348 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Nov, 20, 1890. 



THE COON HUNTERS. 



YOU promise coon hunters a separate page next week. 

 Will this go? Last summer, when we were return- 

 ing from a camping trip in Bedford county, Pa, , a coon 

 dropped from a tree along the roadside, our noise evi- 

 dently frightening him down. The great coon dog Path 

 Finder (a full-blood great Dane) and beagle Topsey were 

 soon in full cry on the trail. It was a race from start to 

 finish. For about 200yds. the coon ran; then, as we 

 thought, it was safely up a tree. Path Finder came up, 

 and with a mighty jump caught the coon, when it was 

 fully 8ft. up the tree. Dog and coon came down to- 

 gether, and the fun was over, for that awful back hold 

 gave the coon no chance. Allegheny, 

 Philadelphia. 



" BRE'R COON." 



OUT here in western New York we do not shoot a 

 coon when treed — unless in a very high tree— but 

 he is shaken out and given a fair chance for his life and 

 liberty with the dogs below, and they often outwit both 

 dogs and men, I remember an instance where two dogs 

 were fairly vanquished by one, and that a female, with 

 four young cubs in attendance. Four of us had started 

 out one evening early in the fall. There was quite a 

 moon, and objects were dimly visible as shadows m the 

 edge of the woods, but no further in. We had struck 

 the edge of the woods and had stopped to listen. We 

 heard the dogs below us yipping about in an excited way, 

 and as we stood very quietly awaiting further develop- 

 ments, we heard the patter of feet on the leaves coming 

 our way. I admonished the boys in a whisper to keep 

 very still, when to our surprise within two rods of us we 

 saw four young coons and their mother behind making 

 all speed to a large maple growing close by. As the first 

 youngster hustled up the tree urged on by repeated 

 growls and spits of the old one, the dogs came bounding 

 into the little space under the tree, and ' with howls of 

 satisfaction prepared to "do up" the whole tribe. 



Surprising events were taking place so rapidly that we 

 had not stirred, and we waited to see the rest of the 

 show. As the foremost dog bounded toward the coon, 

 instead of her making a bolt for the tree she made a dive 

 for his face, and raked both her sharp-clawed forefeet 

 the whole length of his head. To say he was surprised, 

 does not half tell it, as he was accustomed to seeing that 

 game run unless cornered; and he turned tail with a 

 howl. By this time the other dog had appeared on the 

 scene — a young one, not yet versed in the arts of "coon," 

 and he was treated to a surprise party greater than the 

 other had been. With a growl and a spit she sprang 

 right on to his head and commenced to scratch and bite. 

 He made a bolt for home, accelerated by a dig in the 

 back as he turned, and we never saw him again that 

 night. The way he made the woods ring with bis howls 

 was a caution. All this had happened in less time than 

 it takes to write it; and before the old dog could collect 

 Iris senses enough to tackle such a fury, the young ones 

 were up the tree, and with a bound she followed and was 

 in the branches before you could say "scat." 



"That old coon has earned her liberty and we won't 

 touch her," said I; nor did we. Possibly the fact that the 

 young were quite small had something to do with my 

 magnanimity. She was fighting in defense of her young 

 to give them an opportunity to escape, but she certainly 

 conjured up more bravery and spunk than I have ever 

 seen since in a coon that had a chance to run. 



A good coon dog is a scarce article, and the mistakes 

 of a young dog in trailing and fighting one are many. 

 He only learns by experience. B. H. W, 



Buffalo, N. Y. 



A PENNSYLVANIA NIGHT RUN. 



"T~I OW are you, boys; we thought you would not 

 XX come," were the greetings we received after 

 riding about seven miles over a country road near Pitts- 

 burgh, to go coon hunting. 



The party who received us were young men from the 

 neighborhood, accompanied by all kinds of dogs of very 

 uncertain parentage, while each particular owner was 

 willing to swear that his cur was the best coon dog that 

 had ever lived; but as we had been disappointed before 

 in believing such assertions, we had brought three dogs 

 upon which we could depend. We gave notice that all 

 the dogs except our own should be tied and led until we 

 had treed a coon, as we did not want ours to be led off 

 by the others on a fox or a rabbit trail. This gave offense 

 to the other owners of dogs, and they quietly dropped 

 out of our party, except one who had a three-quarter 

 bred foxhound which he wanted to teach to hunt coons. 

 There were thirteen men in the company when we started 

 to hunt, two or three going ahead with the dogs, while 

 the rest followed at some distance, so as not to disturb 

 the game. 



The dogs were scarcely released when they struck a 

 trail up a steep hill; a rail fence also led up this hill, and 

 the coon had traveled on the top of the fence to mislead 

 the dogs. But one of our dogs knew that trick well. He 

 would jump on the rail fence, ascertain which way the 

 coon went, then leap to the ground and run along the 

 fence for about 100yds. and then repeat the maneuver. 



In a short time we heard them having in the distance, 

 a,nd the joyful cry, "We've got him", he's treed in that 

 orchard," was heard by the leading men. We found the 

 dogs howling and trying to climb an apple tree, while 

 two of our party were up among the leafy branches with 

 torches hunting for the coon. But we could not find 

 him; the dogs would circle around the tree and then 

 howl, but still no coon, while the owner of the dogs 

 would swear that it was the first time they bad ever- 

 fooled him. The coon had gone up the tree, walked out 

 on a branch, and from there had gotten on a high paling 

 fence, which the dogs could not reach, and by doing so 

 had delayed the dogs long enough to escape further up 

 the hill to an abandoned coal mine, where we could not 

 follow with our dogs. It was an old trick of that coon, 

 and we were not the first ones fooled. There we stood ; 

 our dogs were gone, we did not know where; occasion- 

 ally we would hear a bark in the distance, which some 

 said was ours, and others declared it was Farmer So- 

 andso's. 



The majority thought that our hunt was a failure, and 

 we concluded to return to thehoitse in a roundabout way. 

 When we had traveled about three-fourths of a mile 



through the wet, cold dew, which drenched us to the 

 skin and did not improve our spirits, we suddenly heard 

 our dogs again, and in a style that told us they had treed 

 a coon. Wet, cold and all discomforts were forgotten as 

 we rushed down through the woods to a very large oak 

 tree about 4ft. in diameter. When we had all arrived at 

 the tree, a consultation was held to decide in which man- 

 ner the coon should be taken. 



Some suggested to go for an ax and cut down the tree, 

 and inquiring if the owner would have no objection, the 

 assuring answer was given that the owner lived 250 miles 

 away. 



Another allowed that Jake, one of our party, could 

 climb that tree, to which one-half answered, "Impossible." 

 They got to disputing over Jake's ability till they had 

 worked Jake's feelings up to such an excitable pitch that 

 he threw off his coat and declared he would "climb that 

 'ar tree" or break his neck in the attempt. 



He was kindly helped in the rear by three of the party 

 with fence rails' until he reached the lowest limb. Up he 

 climbed almost to the top, declaring he could not see the 

 coon: up higher he went, and at last to our great relief he 

 yelled that he saw the coon. "No; two, three— great 

 Scott, boys! there are four coons on this tree." This was 

 answered from below with a whoop that would have put 

 to shame any Indian war cry. Jake was told to come 

 further down and get behind the trunk, while we would 

 try to shoot the coons, which we did, but did not hit the 

 coons; neither did we hit Jake. 



Jake was then given a long pole with instructions to 

 poke them down, commencing with the lowest one. 

 Below a circle was formed by a dozen men, six torches, 

 and four dogs divided among the circle. The dog which 

 I held had killed a skunk the night before, and the dew 

 brought the aroma out wonderfully, and when he got ex- 

 cited he would snap at my hands to try and make me let 

 him go. When all was in readiness Jake was told to poke 

 one down, which he did without any trouble. Zip, zip 

 he came down through the branches and landed with a 

 thump on the leaves below. At the same time four dogs 

 and twelve men were let loose, and such scrambling, 

 yelling, and growling of dogs, coon and men with torches 

 cannot be described, but as he was only three-fourths 

 grown, he was easily dispatched. With the next one the 

 same scene was repeated. While the dogs were fighting 

 the third one, the fourth or old one, becoming alarmed 

 at the proceedings, sprang down from the tree and made 

 off down the hill, followed by the men but unnoticed by 

 the dogs, which were tearing at the now nearly dead 

 coon, and could not be called off. Heroic measures were 

 necessary in such an important cause, and I rushed in 

 and grabbed the dead coon from the snarling dogs and 

 held it high above my head, while the calls of the others 

 brought them on the trail of the old coon, and none too 

 soon; she had almost reached her den, an immense dry 

 tree which was hollow near the top, where she would 

 have been comparatively safe. She showed much more 

 fight than the other three, and the dogs had all they could 

 do to finish her. 



When the fray was over, Jake gathered the spoils and 

 they disappeared into the unfathomable recess of his 

 large overcoat, while the dogs started in quest of new 

 game. We followed down the classic banks of Moon Eun 

 about one mile, when the dogs gave tongue again, raising 

 our hopes of more coons; but alas! that three-fourth fox- 

 hound that Jake had brought along to learn the higher 

 art of coon hunting had struck a fox trail, and away he 

 went with our coon dogs over the hills and through the 

 valley, at times so far away that we could not hear them, 

 and then again, circling so near that if it had been day- 

 light we could have shot the fox. 



For more than two hours they kept us waiting, wet, 

 cold and shivering, and trying to get the dogs off the 

 trail, while near us a small screech-owl was seemingly 

 laughing at our discomfort, and Jake was sitting in the 

 wet grass, where he went peacefully to sleep snoring in 

 all the different modulations of tone that were possible. 



If the dogs had had their homes in the neighborhood 

 we would have left them, but having brought them from 

 Pittsburg we were afraid, of losing them. All misery 

 must have an end, and so it was with us. By a good 

 chance and a ruse we caught the dogs, and wended our 

 way homeward as the faint streaks of dawn began to show 

 in the east, a tired, but satisfied party, as four coons 

 caught in one night attested. 



A "DANVIS" COON HUNT. 



YEARS ago, along in the latter part of the fifties, I 

 was a boy living at home, near the green hills of 

 Vermont, and in close vicinity to the town of "Danvis," 

 since become famous through "Uncle Lisha's Shop" and 

 "Sam Lovel's Camps;" in fact, it was the ancient city of 

 Vergennes mentioned in those unique works, a quiet, 

 lovely spot, around which still lingers tales and legends 

 of ( Ethan; Allen, Seth Warner, Benedict Arnold. Com- 

 modore McDonough, and of the "days that stirred men's 

 souls." 



Among many intimate friends was one Geo. P,, a young 

 law student, with plenty of time on his hands and a 

 strong appetite for something to take the musty flavor of 

 the law out of his mouth. How he came to hit upon coon 

 hunting as a means of moistening the arid wastes of 

 Blackstone, Chitty and the rest of the worthies I can not 

 for the life of me tell. Whether following a coon, routed 

 from his nightly marauding in the farmer's cornfield, was 

 suggested by the thought of tracing the devious ways of 

 some hardened criminal to his final conviction and incar- 

 ceration; or whether he had become so befogged and be- 

 clouded in the intricacies of the law, in fact so in the 

 dark about the whole matter, that night hunting was the 

 only way to illumine his mind, I don't know. But that 

 fall he borrowed Uncle David Middlebrook's "old hound" 

 and went coon hunting, and with the not unusual luck 

 of tyros got one or two coons each night. It was at this 

 time he approached me with an invitation to join him on 

 a certain night. George said we were sure to tree a coon 

 and equally sure to get him if we could only get him out 

 of the tree. I laughed and told him I would agree to get 

 down all the coons he got up in a tree. There was where 

 I was rash. 



Upon the night appointed we struck for the cornfield 

 bordering Burrough's Swamp. Dark? Yes! I carrying 

 my double-barrel and George handling the dog. We 

 stumbled on for perhaps an hour when the dog gave 

 tongue. We were then in the center of a cornfield, the I 



chase led toward Meigs' Hill and soon from the sharp 

 short notes we knew the coon was treed. Eeaching the 

 spot we found the dog at the foot of an immense hem- 

 lock, standing on a point of a limestone ledge, 30 or 40ft. 

 high, which fell off abruptly to the level ground below. 

 Scrambling up the ledge we found the hemlock quite 

 70ft. high, throwing out its straight horizontal branches 

 at regular intervals, beginning quite close to the ground 

 and making it quite easy to climb. 



After scanning the tree as well as we could in the pitchy 

 darkness and firing one or two random shots, George, half 

 in jest, half in earnest, insisted that I should, fulfill my 

 promise and get the coon down. I then began to Tealize 

 that I had been rash in making any promise. So mount- 

 ing the tree, which was easy enough to a nimble boy of 

 16, I climbed up about half way, when I discovered his 

 coonship stretched out on one of the horizontal limbs, 

 facing the body of the tree, and five or six feet from it. 

 The branches were about 3in. in diameter where they 

 joined the body of the tree, tapering easily toward the 

 ends. Seizing the one the coon was on with my hands, 

 and putting my feet upon the next below, which just 

 brought my chin on a level with my hands, I cautiously 

 made my way out from the body of the tree to within a 

 foot or so of the coon, who began snapping and snarling. 

 My weight was bending the branch in an alarming man- 

 manner, and strange to say the coon did not shake off 

 worth a cent, while I became painfully conscious that 

 there was but an inch and a half of twig between me and 

 the foot of the ledge, some 80ft. below. So marking the 

 height and general direction as well as I could, I scram- 

 bled back and down to the ground. 



A few ineffectual shots in the direction I had marked, 

 set George to browbeating me in good set terms for not 

 getting down the coon, untile my ire and my courage 

 (such as I had) were fully aroused. 



Again I mounted the tree, and on reaching my former 

 position found he had changed bis quarters. As I could 

 see to the end of each branch as I climbed past, I was in 

 no danger of overrunning, or rather overclimbing, my 

 quarry. Up and up I went, till the branches seemed like 

 pipe stems, and the trunk itself a mere whipstock, while 

 the fact that I was a hundred feet from the foot of the 

 ledge would constantly thrust its unpleasant realization 

 upon me. I had now reached a place where I had to 

 grasp the main shaft of the tree; the branches were coo 

 small, and my slightest motion swayed it several inches 

 out of perpendicular. But there, just above my head, 

 sat the coon with his haunches on a little twig of a 

 branch, his fore paws and bead close to the tree, snarling 

 and snapping. I tried to shake him off by swaying the 

 top of that old hemlock back and forth, expecting every 

 moment to hear it crack beneath me, but it was of no 

 use; the coon had the best hold and the most confidence; 

 and if it had not been for the dread of George's tongue I 

 should have turned and gone down again. 



As it was I stopped and considered the matter. After 

 a bit a plan occured to me, I could easily reach him 

 with my hand. Swaying the treetoxJ again back and 

 forth as far as I dared, I gave the coon all the business 

 he could well attend to to hold on to his frail perch. 

 Letting go with one hand but still keeping up the 

 swaying motion I dealt him several blows with my 

 fist in quick succession. The second rolled him over on 

 the branch, the third loosened his fore feet, and the 

 fourth sent him crashing through the branches to the 

 ground below. Hastening down I reached the ground in 

 time to see a fight of three or four minutes between the 

 coon and hound before the former was killed. He 

 weighed 231bs. H. 

 Inhiana. 



SOME POINTS ON COON HUNTING. 



THERE are a great many "points" in coon hunting 

 which are only gained by experience, and then 

 only after a great deal of observation. There are many 

 characteristics possessed by the old male coon which are 

 entirely lacking in the younger members of the family. 

 Many old coons become as sly and cunning as a fox, and 

 are equally hard to take. I remember one case in partic- 

 ular. My hounds used to run hot trails in about the 

 same locality every once in a while. They would take 

 up the trail, run it for perhaps ten minutes and then lose 

 it in a most unaccountable manner. This had happened 

 several times in succession, until one night a good track- 

 ing snow fell. The next morning I went out to the same 

 place and succeeded after many a twist and turn in track- 

 ing my old quarry to his den. We cut the tree and found 

 him to be as I thought, an old male of quite large caliber. 

 Another case I remember, where the hounds crossed and 

 recrossed the creek several times, taking up the trail 

 each time after crossing, running it a short distance and 

 then crossing back again, finally treeing in a huge hick- 

 ory. . ' . . - 



One can easily distinguish an old coon by the size of 

 the tree he climbs as a last resort to escape the hounds. I 

 have no doubt that the motto of the young and inexperi- 

 enced coon is "Any port in a storm." JNot so, however, 

 w r ith the older ones, who have perhaps succeeded more 

 than once in throwing the keenest hounds off the track. 

 I remember one night in particular. The hounds took 

 up a fresh trail, and after running it a short time treed in 

 what is called in the West a bush, a small tree, about 5 

 or 6in. in diameter. On jumping the coon we found him 

 to be a young one, and from all appearances hardly a 

 year old. 



We had hardly left the spot when the dogs took up a 

 fresh trail and ran at full cry straight for the creek. 

 Here they crossed, ran along on the opposite bank for 

 some 200yds., crossed back again and struck out into the 

 timber. 



We followed them slowly for a while and then sat 

 down on a fallen tree trunk to a.wait further develop- 

 ments. I had made up my mind that they were running 

 an old-timer by the way the trail led. We had not been 

 seated long when we heard the hounds getting nearer, 

 and presently we saw a dark object rush past and heard 

 a scratching sound as it disappeared up the side of a large 

 elm. 



I think the coon had had this tree in mind from the 

 time the hounds took up the trail. He had crossed the 

 creek to throw the dogs off, struck out into the timber, 

 circled and made for this tree, perhaps an old favorite 

 with him, where it may be he had taken refuge before to 

 escape his keen-scented pursuers. I have noticed in 

 almost every case the old coons are treed in the largest 



