290 WILD NEIGHBORS CHAP, 
clansfolk. So one fancies, when the quavering cry 
is repeated and when it ceases, that all the free- 
booters have gained the cornfield and are silent 
with busy looting.” 
Now is the time when ’coon-hunting is most fun 
and best rewarded, for now the animal is so fat 
that a large one may weigh twenty-five pounds, and 
his flesh is tender, juicy, and well-flavored, whereas, 
at other times of the year, it is rather poor proven- 
der, even for a stew, and sometimes as rank as that 
of a muskrat; nevertheless, our colored friends in 
the South are willing to eat it at any time. 
’Coon-hunting is one of the truly American sports 
of the chase, though its devotees have found diffi- 
culty in persuading folks to take their sport seri- 
ously. It is, in truth, a comical aspect of hunting, 
and is scarcely less wanting in dignity than a 
*possum chase, which confessedly has none at all. 
If ’coon-hunting be regarded as a step higher than 
that, it loses the advantage at the end, for a fat 
‘possum is certainly better eating than a ’coon, 
however rotund. The chase, nevertheless, calls 
for endurance, since an old ’coon may run four 
or five miles after he has been started, zigzagging 
hither and yon, circling round and round trees, 
leaving a track calculated to make a dog dizzy, 
swimming streams, and running along the tops of 
logs and snake-fences, hiding his trail with the 
craftiness of a fox. 
The hunt is always organized late at night. 
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