414 



'HE RACOON. 



The color of this animal is rather peculiar, and not very easy to describe. 



The general tint of the body and limbs is an undecided blackish gray, the gray and 

 black predominating according to the position of the observer and the arrangement of 

 the fur. The hairs that form the coat of the Racoon are of two kinds, the one of a soft 

 and woolly character, lying next to the skin, and the other composed of long and rather 

 stiff hairs that project through the wool for some distance. The woolly fur is of a uni- 

 form gray, while the longer hairs are alternately marked with black and grayish white. 

 Upon the top of the head and across the eyes the fur is of a very dark blackish brown ; 

 and upon the knee-joint of each, leg the fur is of a darker tint than on the rest of the 

 body. The tail is rather short and bushy in character, and is marked with five, or 

 sometimes six, blackish rings upon a ground of dark gray. In the British Museum is 

 preserved a specimen of the Racoon, which is entirely white, its fur being of as pure a 

 whiteness as that of the ermine itself. 



In its gait and general carriage is visible an admixture of the plantigrade with the 

 digitigrade ; for when it stands or sits it plants the entire sole of its foot upon the 

 ground, but when it runs in haste it only touches the earth with the tips of its toes. 

 Generally, it is nocturnal in its habits, passing the whole of the daytime in sleep, snugly 

 curled up in the warm blanket of its own rich fur, and slumbering heavily with its head 

 sunk between its hinder limbs. 



As is indicated by the peculiar nature of its teeth, the Racoon is capable of feeding 

 on animal or vegetable food, but seems to prefer the latter. Indeed, there seem to be 

 few things which the Racoon will not eat. One of these animals ate a piece of cedar 

 pencil which it snatched out of my hand, and tried very hard to eat the envelope of a 

 letter on which I was making notes. Not succeeding in the attempt, it consoled itself 

 by tearing the paper into minute morsels, employing teeth and paws in the attempt. 

 It did its best to get a ring off my finger, by hitching one of its crooked claws into 

 the ring and pulling with all its strength, which was very considerable in proportion 

 to the size of the animal. Its brown eyes lighted up with animation when engaged in 

 play, and it was very fond of pushing its paw through the bars of its cage, in order to 

 attract attention. 



A Racoon that was kept in a barrack-yard in Canada, in company with a bear, an 

 owl, and various finned and feathered creatures, was considered to be the most interest- 

 ing of all the little menagerie. It was extremely tame, but could not be trusted near 

 poultry, as it had a bad habit of pouncing suddenly upon them, grasping them in its 

 hand-like paws, and biting off their heads in a moment. It would then devour the 

 head and afterwards the body in a leisurely manner. There were many bats in the 

 neighborhood, and the soldiers were in the habit of capturing those nocturnal depre- 

 dators, and throwing them on the ground within reach of the Racoon's chain. Before 

 the bat could flap its wings, the Racoon would leap upon it, roll it rapidly in its paws 

 for a while, and then despatch it with a single bite. 



It was rather a vengeful animal, and possessed of a tenacious memory for an insult. 

 The great owl that was partaker of the same residence had one day been irritated with 

 the Racoon and had pecked it on the back. The Racoon treasured the insult in its heart, 

 and waited a favorable time for revenge. The opportunity was not long delayed, for 

 on the first occasion that the owl ventured within reach of the Racoon's chain, the ag- 

 grieved animal crept slily towards its foe, and adroitly snatched out all the feathers of 

 the owl's tail. 



In its native state it is a great devourer of oysters, crabs, and other similar animals, 

 displaying singular ingenuity in opening the stubborn shells of the oysters, or in 

 despatching the crabs without suffering from their ready claws. Sometimes it is said 

 to fall a victim to the oyster, and to be held so firmly by the closing shells that it can- 

 not extricate itself, and perishes miserably by the rising tide. Its oyster-eating pro- 

 pensities have been questioned, but are now clearly proven. The sand and soil that 

 fringe the oyster-beds are frequently seen to be covered with the footmarks of this 

 animal. 



It is always fond of water, drinking largely, and immersing its food, so as to moisten 

 it as much as possible. When engaged in this curious custom it grasps the food in both 



