THE RACCOON 



dig a fiery wake-robin bulb nor to catch 

 a frog nor harry a late brood of ground- 

 nesting birds, but only to call some lag- 

 gard, or distant clansfolk. So one fan- 

 cies, when the quavering cry is repeated 

 and when it ceases, that all the free- 

 booters have gained the cornfield and are 

 silent with busy looting. Next day's ex- 

 amination of the field may confirm the 

 fancy with the sight of torn and trampled 

 stalks and munched ears. These are 

 the nights when the coon hunter is 

 abroad and the robbers' revel is likely 

 to be broken up in a wild panic. 



Hunted only at night, to follow the 

 coon the boldest rider must dismount, 

 yet he who risks neck and limbs, or 

 melts or freezes for sport's sake, and 

 deems no sport manly that has not a 

 spice of danger or discomfort in it, must 

 not despise this humble pastime for such 

 reason. 



On leaving the highway that leads 

 nearest to the hunting ground, the way 

 of the coon hunters takes them, in dark- 

 ness or feeble lantern light, over rough 

 and uncertain footing, till the cornfield's 

 edge is reached and the dogs cast off. 



