THE RACCOON 



wanderers, he follows it to their last 

 tarrying place. If it be a cave, they are 

 safe except from the trap when they 

 come forth to begin another journey; but 

 if it is a hollow tree, woe betide the poor 

 wretches. The hunter saps the founda- 

 tion of their castle, and when it crashes 

 to its fall he ignominiously knocks the 

 dazed inmates on the head. It is fashion- 

 able for others to wear the coat which 

 becomes the raccoon much better than 

 them and which once robbed of he can 

 never replace. 



During the spring and early summer 

 little is seen of the raccoon. His tracks 

 may be found on a sandy shore or margin 

 of a brook and occasionally his call can 

 be heard, if indeed it be his, but beyond 

 these he gives little evidence of his exist- 

 ence. There must be nocturnal excur- 

 sions for food, but for the most part old 

 and young abide in their rocky fortress 

 or wooden tower. They are reported to 

 be a playful family, and the report is 

 confirmed by the pranks of domesticated 

 members of it. Sometimes there will be 

 found in one of their ravaged homes a 

 rounded gnarl worn smooth with much 



