NIGHT IN A MEXICAN JUNGLE 
fond of a certain kind of hard, round fruit. When four or five of them 
were among the branches of a small sapling, the young tree suffered severely. 
They hunted mice in the open spaces of the woods, and I sometimes saw 
several crouched here and there, waiting for the first signs of life among the 
leaves. With a dog they were easily treed, and they fought fiercely when 
cornered. When playing and leaping about each other they uttered low, 
harsh grunts, and we never heard any other utterance. The Mexicans 
delight to hunt these coati mondi, treeing them with dogs and killing them 
with revolvers. They work themselves up to a high pitch of excitement, 
shouting, as a kind of hunting cry, ‘Adios, Tejon!’ — the latter name 
being the Mexican name of the animal. 
“How perfectly the actions and general mien of these nocturnal creatures 
reflect the efficiency of their means of defense! The life of the little mice, 
the prey of all, is one great fear; they nibble, wash their fur, scamper 
about, but ever with large fearful eyes, ever with feet braced to spring to 
the protection of their holes. The opossums start at every sound and 
slink tremblingly away. The coatis make little show of defense, but when 
there is any avenue of escape flee quickly. The ring-tailed cats turn a 
moment and bare their teeth in a defiant snarl before taking to flight. 
The armadillos potter serenely on their way, heeding little to right or left, 
respectful of others’ rights, but calmly confident in their tooth-and-claw- 
proof armor of scales. The skunk alone dares to herald his presence with 
flourishing tail.” 
229 
