282 WILD NEIGHBORS CHAP, 
before eating it. Various explanations of this have 
been given; but it is probable that the simplest — 
namely, that it seeks to wash the food—is the 
nearest the truth. An acquaintance of mine was 
once mischievous enough to give a captive ’coon a 
raisin covered with cayenne pepper, which kept the 
poor animal sneezing for half an hour. The next 
day he was given another; but this time he sniffed 
at it in advance, and discovering more pepper, took 
the raisin to his dish and washed it. Smelling of 
it cautiously, he was not satisfied with his work, 
but continued to rub it between his palms and 
wash it under the water until he was sure nothing 
remained upon it to annoy his throat and nose. 
The animal is partial to the water, being a good 
swimmer and loving to dwell near streams or the 
sea and to dabble in the shallows, fishing many a 
morsel out of the pools and capturing agile crabs 
and crayfish by overturning the stones. 
His partiality for crayfish is notorious, those liv- 
ing in the far Southwest subsisting almost wholly 
upon these subterranean creatures, which they 
scratch out of their tubular burrows. This taste 
has given rise to a fable among the Ojibways, 
related by Dr. Henry Schoolcraft, long ago, in his 
“Algic Tales.” The Indian story regards it as 
the result of an enmity between the two animals, 
in the fabulous antiquity, which caused such wari- 
ness on the part of the latter that the poor raccoon, 
with all his stealthiness, was at last put into great 
