THE NIGHT-HUNT IN RECESS. 83 
Suddenly the reverberations die away. Old Sambo halts. 
When we get into ear-shot the only word we hear is, “Tree’d!” 
This from the oracle is sufficient. We have another long 
scramble, in which we are led by the monotonous baying of a 
single dog. 
We have reached the place at last all breathless. Our 
torches have been nearly extinguished. One of the young 
dogs is seated at the foot of a tree, and looking up, it bays 
incessantly. Old Sambo. pauses for awhile to. survey the 
scene. The old dogs are circling round and round, jumping 
up against the side of every tree, smelling as high as they 
can reach. They are not satisfied, and Sambo waits for his 
tried oracles to solve the mystery. He regards them steadily 
and patiently for awhile; then steps forward quickly, and 
beats off the young dog who had “lied” at the “tree.” 
The veterans now have a quiet field to themselves, and 
after some further delay in jumping up the sides of the sur- 
rounding trees, to find the scent, they finally open in full 
burst upon the trail. Old Sambo exclaims curtly, as we set 
off in the new chase, 
“Dat looks like coon! but cats is about !” 
Now the whole pack opens again, and we are off after it. 
We all understand the allusion to the cats—for we know that, 
like the raccoon, this animal endeavors to baffle the dogs by 
running some distance up a tree, and then springing off upon 
another, and so on until it can safely descend. The young 
dogs take it for granted that he is in the first tree, while the 
older ones sweep circling round and round until they are 
convinced that the animal has not escaped. They thus baffle 
the common trick which they have learned through long ex- 
perience, and recovering the trail of escape, renew the 
chase. 
. Under ordinary circumstances we would already have been 
sufficiently exhausted; but the magnetism of the scene lifts 
our feet as if they had been shod with wings. Another 
