Way-Atcha, the Coon-Raccoon 
with them ever learning, and teaching too, till the 
inner urge asserts itself and he breaks with the 
band, to cleave to a mate from the band. So they 
leave their kind, and seek, as their parents sought, 
some quiet spot where huge and hollow trunks hold 
yet the ground, where the precious land is made 
beautiful by its very worthlessness. And here, 
by the All-mother led, they raise their brood and 
teach a little more than they were taught, for times 
have changed. The leagues of big tall woods are 
gone, only the skimpy remnants by the water stay, 
only the useless trunks on the useless land, as 
ploughmen think. They give no harbor to the - 
one-time forest kings, but lure the black-masked 
dweller of the hollow trunk, and wise is he with 
growing need for wisdom. He comes not forth by 
day; he goes not far by night. He runs the top of 
every fence, so leaves a broken trail. He lives on 
woodland creekside food. He shuns all clash with 
men. He never shows himself to them unless they 
chance to know his way. High in the noonday sun 
he lies at times to take the sunning that is balm for 
many an ill; and in the night, when the moon is 
sinking, he may splash and forage by the swampy 
shores. There tracks of divers size next day give 7” 
record of the night prowl. But ye may not see him 
unless by rare mischance; he is more alert than 
117 
\ 
~N 
me Vie 
a 
