Way-Atcha, the Coon—Raccoon 
Next day a lesson was given again for both, and 
both learned other things: Way-atcha that that 
hole, the kennel, was a safe refuge; the cur, that 
the Coon could clutch as well as bite. 
The third day came and the third lesson. Wait- 
ing for the cool of the evening, the hunter dropped 
the Coon into a bag, took down his gun, called 
the noisy dog, and made for the nearest stretch 
of woods, for the trailing and treeing of the Coon 
was to be the climax of the course of training. 
Arrived at the timberland, Pete’s first care was 
to tie the dog to a tree. Why? Certainly not 
out of consideration for the Coon, but for this: 
the Coon must be allowed to run and get out of 
sight, otherwise the dog does not try to follow it 
by track. Once he has to do this to find his prey, 
his own instinctive prompting makes him a trailer 
and he follows till he sights the quarry, then at- 
tacks, or if it trees, as is usual, he must ramp and 
rage against the trunk to let the hunter know the 
Coon is there. This is the training of a Coon dog; 
this was the plan of Indian Pete. 
So the dog was chained to a sapling; the Coon 
was carried out of reach, and tumbled from the 
sack. Bewildered at first, but brave, he glared 
about, then seeing his tall enemy quite near he 
rushed open-mouthed at him. The half-breed 
113 
