Nov. 26, 1910.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
849 
pocosin back of the woods and in the woods 
further around the lake, but it was very quiet 
out there—until something rather unusual hap¬ 
pened. 1 was sitting perfectly still, meditating 
on how I was going to shoot the deer when he 
did come out to me, when a movement in the 
thin, scattering reeds attracted my attention. A 
’coon came into the open, heading for the woods. 
I started to grab my rifle, when it suddenly oc¬ 
curred to me that I should like to see for my¬ 
self how fast a ’coon could run. 
The ’coon was passing at about twenty yards 
distance when I made a dash to cut him off from 
the woods, fully expecting to see him pull him¬ 
self together and run like a scared cat. Noth¬ 
ing of the kind happened. I am no spring 
chicken and weighed at the time 175 pounds, but 
I had that ’coon under my wing from the start. 
When it came to quick turns and dodging, he 
had the best of me though, and it was only in 
speed that I excelled. Over a space of some 
seventy-five yards square we had it. The going 
will bear telling. He was on a deer stand, the 
same north drive before mentioned being the one 
covered that day. The stands usually occupied 
at that time were nearer to the lake than those 
in use at present and before described, most of 
them being in the big woods that encircle the 
lake on this side. The hunter was occupying one 
known as the holly stand, and had seated him¬ 
self on the exposed roots of the great holly tree 
that gave the stand its name. He had been there 
some time, perfectly quiet and hardly moving, 
when a slight rustle behind him caused him to 
turn his head. There, just in the act of leaping 
at him, was a large wildcat. The hunter dodged 
and the cat went on over his head, only to fall 
a moment after to the ready gun. B.’s explana¬ 
tion of the affair was that the cat noticed a 
movement of his gray corduroy cap—his body 
being nearly hidden behind the tree—and mis¬ 
took it for a gray squirrel just slipping around 
the trunk. He found out his mistake too late 
and B. collected the cat. 
The hunt seemed to be over, but I heard no 
horn. K., who had been stationed on the marsh 
within sight of me had moved on toward camp 
two and a half miles away. Soon I heard his 
rifle, he being out of my sight at the time. I 
waited and waited and followed his example. It 
was getting dusk by this time, but I had worked 
my way out of these woods before when it was 
dark sure enough, so that phase of the situation 
was not particularly disquieting. It was good and 
dark by the time the open places were reached, 
and then I heard the horn at camp. On arriv¬ 
ing there I found that everybody had come in 
long before, and that the horn had been blown 
right opposite my stand. There seem to be most 
peculiar acoustic features connected with that 
place. Often sounds from the pocosin beyond 
the woods are much more distinct than those 
originating in the woods themselves. It had 
been noticed, too, that the voices of the dogs 
were often heard clearly by one man when en¬ 
tirely out of hearing of others nearby. None 
THREE GATORS KILLED BY MR. BRIMLEY AND HENRY. 
From photographs by H. H. Brimley. 
IN THESE THICKETS THE BEARS STAY. 
was fairly firm and the reeds and grass rather 
thin, but I dare not stop for a stick or he would 
have been out of sight and reach in a moment. 
When I got too close he would dodge so sud¬ 
denly that I would overrun the trail every time. 
Several times he turned on me so quickly that 
I had to jump over him, and that would give 
him another fresh start. Once or twice he 
showed fight, but not very aggressive. Finally, 
at the opportune moment, I grabbed him by the 
back of his neck, just missing the quick snap he 
made at my hand. 
This does not sound very strenuous, but it 
was, all the same, and I was about all in for a 
minute or two. Altogether it was rather disap¬ 
pointing. My notion of a ’coon, gathered more 
from hearsay than from actual experience, was 
that he could whip a couple of good dogs at 
a time—and rather enjoyed the opportunity—and 
that he could run; that he was, in fact, a speedy 
and ferocious beast for his size. And here I had 
caught one by hand, with but little trouble and 
with no glorious scars to show as a mark of 
skill and courage. I knew that tame ’coons were 
tame, but had expected to find wild ones a little 
wild. 
The ’coon’s gray coat set me to thinking of 
wildcats, a not uncommon animal in these woods, 
though seldom seen. B. had rather a funny ex¬ 
perience with a wildcat a few seasons ago that 
I have seen wildcat tracks a number of times, 
but have yet to see in the wild state the indi¬ 
vidual that made them. I have had several live 
ones from that region and the skins of more 
than one that were not alive. I take them to 
be pretty shy beasts and not often seen except 
by accident. 
All this comes in while resting up after catch¬ 
ing the ’coon. On returning to my seat and 
stand everything was found to be very quiet. 
The voices of the dogs had died away in the 
distance, but soon came into hearing again along 
the west side of the lake. Out further and fur¬ 
ther from shore they came, and I began to think 
that they were bringing the deer my way. It 
seemed impossible for them to be where they 
were—not half a mile away and along the edge 
of the marsh and among the little bushy islands 
—without the deer coming within range of my 
vision. At last I heard the splash, splash of a 
leaping deer and presently saw two bounding 
easily along through the shallows, but heading 
away to the northward. They would stop and 
listen to the dogs, though only a short distance 
ahead of them and apparently in full view, and 
then go on again with easy leaps for a few hun¬ 
dred yards, only to repeat the performance. At 
last they disappeared from my sight against the 
further marsh, and the dogs’ voices finally faded 
away, too. 
of us could explain it, so we gave it up, but the 
knowledge of the fact accounted for several ap¬ 
parent discrepancies in the accounts given by in¬ 
dividuals of the running of the dogs and of the 
direction and character of some of the shots 
heard at various times. On several occasions 
one or the other of us identified shotgun reports 
as those of rifles and vice versa. 
No game had been brought in except my ’coon. 
K.’s shot had been at another ’coon which he 
declared he had shot at about forty yards “right 
behind the foreshoulder.” This was the first 
game to fall before his new rifle which we 
promptly named “ ’Coon Killer.” I am afraid 
we guyed him rather too much on the ’coon 
question. At last he began to talk back and 
finally told me that anyway it had not taken 
him ten shots to bag his game. This was one 
at me, and I suppose I will have to tell the rest 
of it now, for fear of the worst being suspected, 
so here goes: 
Last winter K. and I were at the same camp 
together. One day the hunt was over what they 
called the S. drive. The first stand went by the 
name of the burnt chimney, from the ruins of 
an old burnt house nearby. K. had that. Mine 
was the next, and that went by the name of the 
cattle break stand from the fact that the herds 
of half wild cattle ranging the woods thereabout 
had broken down the steep banks of the drain- 
