Way-Atcha, the Coon-Raccoon 
ous musky smell on a stone by the shore, well! he 
was not, and that was all about it. 
They had gone for their usual supper hunt one 
night. After smelling the wind, mother had de- 
cided on going downstream, but Way-atcha had been 
enjoying visions of the pool with its varied game. 
He held back, and when his mother called, he 
had followed only a little way. Then his keen eyes 
sighted a movement in the edge of the near water. 
He sprang on it with the vigor of a growing hunter, 
and dragged out a fine big crawfish. Then he pro- 
ceeded to wash it thoroughly and ate it body and 
bones, not heeding the call of his mother as she led 
the others away. He was perfectly delighted with 
himself for this small victory, and felt so set up and 
independent that he turned in spite of mother’s 
invitation and set out to visit the upper pool as 
he had planned. 
After one or two little captures he reached the 
jumping water. That very day another visitor 
had been there. Indian Pete, a trapper, had found 
the pool, and all about it had seen the tracks of 
_Coon and Muskrat. At this season fur is worth- 
less, but Pete used these creatures for his food, so 
hid a big steel trap in the mud, and on a little stick 
farther out in the water he rubbed a rag with a 
mixture of animal oils and musk. 
105 
