THE LIFE OF MAMMALS 
creatures, which they scratch out of their tubular burrows, 
so that the name ‘crab eater” has been given to the very 
similar species of South and Central America. One of the 
singularities of the raccoon is its habit of dip- 
ping its food in water or washing it, to which it owes 
its specific name, —/otor, the washer. Various explanations of 
this have been given; but it is probable that the simplest — 
namely, that it seeks to cleanse the food —is the nearest the 
truth. Bears do much the same thing on occasion, and will 
soak bread and similar dry, stiff food in water whenever they 
can before eating it. 
The prime delicacy of the world in the coon’s opinion is 
Indian corn, when in that milky condition of sweet half-ripe- 
ness which so attracts the squirrels, the mice, the birds, and 
you and me, if you please; and when he has found it he strips 
back the husk as deftly as any ‘‘neat-handed Phyllis,’ and 
disposes of the succulent kernels with ease and rapidity. This 
is his occupation and delight in the still, hot August nights, 
and this is the time when coon hunting is most fun and best 
rewarded, for then 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 provender, 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. 
Habits. 
Coon hunting is one of the truly American sports of the chase, though 
its devotees have found difficulty in persuading folks to take their sport 
seriously. It is, in truth, a comical sort of hunting, yet calls for endur- 
ance, 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, and consists of a headlong 
scramble after a pack of curs known as ‘‘coon dogs,” because good for noth- 
ing else, by the aid of flaring torches or the uncertain moon; and ends in 
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