FOREST AND STREAM. 
GAME RAG AND GUN 
[APRIL 14, 1906. 

Black Boys and ’Possums. 
Wuy it is we know not, and yet it is wonder- 
fully fascinating to roam the woods at night after 
ever so plebeian game. 
Men, to whom real sport does not appeal, can 
be readily toled off into the woods at night and 
made to wear themselves mentally, morally and 
physically thread-bare in this the greatest of 
bunco games. ee 
Sweet young girls who ordinarily need the 
assistance of a carriage to go three blocks to a 
dance, though they can dance forty miles without 
stopping for breath after they get there, will grow 
hysterical with delight at the bare thought of a 
°coon hunt, and will endure fatigue and surmount 
difficulties on such a trip that would stagger a 
professional mountain climber. And we old sea- 
soned fellows, who hoot at the very mention of 
‘coon and ‘possum hunting, styling it a pastime 
fit only for darkeys and cur dogs, we go, and go 
again, and protesting and. grumbling, go again. 
The only attribute of real sport this indulgence 
can boast is that it is strenuous. Football is more 
so only by reason of its more general indulgence. 
And the wounds of war and wars of love pale 
into insignificance when compared with those of 
the individual addicted to hunting in the woods 
at night. All of this and much. more appertain- 
ing to this questionable practice I have known for 
many years, and yet I recall very few tempta- 
tions successfully resisted. y 
My last indulgence was my last opportunity, and 
not long enough ago for me to have entirely for- 
gotten either the main facts of the calamity or 
the next morning’s feeling—something like you 
would expect to enjoy after falling foul of a rock 
crusher in action. 
I had been spending the summer with friends 
in the country, wheeling and driving to and from 
business, and the weather holding good we had 
continued our stay until the “frost was on the 
pumpkin.” a 
“Ain’ you a hunter, suh?” inquired Willis, the 
colored man-of-all-work, one evening. 
Acknowledging my weakness along that line, 
he invited me to accompany him and his brother- 
in-law on a “possum hunt. 
“*Simmons is ripe,’ said he, “and me and my 
brother-in-law has caught five already back heah 
on de ridges. He is got three good dogs and we 
will go any night you say.” 
There is one marked distinction between the 
white and black man’s night game, the former 
always hunts ’coons, the latter ‘possums. Your 
normal African is a gentle fellow. No lover of 
fighting or bloodshed. His hunting, generally, 1s 
for the game. Your educated, refined Caucasian 
is yet in many ways a savage. He hunts for the 
lust of blood and love of sport. 
In actual need of meat he would prefer that the 
game treed be valiant rather than succulent. To 
see a well-built ’coon roll over on its soft, round 
back and reach up its little baby-like hands in 
mild protest and gentle supplication to meet the 
fierce rush of a thoroughly aroused fighting dog; 
and to see it suddenly transformed into a bunch 
of red hot steel springs, sizzling and cutting like 
an electric sausage grinder, as it flashes over the 
entire superficial ‘area of the dog, scattering his 
howls and hair generously over the.scene, is bet- 
ter than food—yes,’ than a feast. I.yjelded to the 
temptation and set the following night for the 
time, 7. 
My friend Jack White—and if White be not 
his cognomen, but his characteristic, what’s the 
odds—accompanied me home to participate in the 
event. By & o’clock we were stumbling around 
in the woods following Waillis:.and his brother- 
in-law, Steve, who in turn were being led by a 
large hound, a medium-sized cur and a diminu- 
tive fice dog. 
After falling into all the holes, running into, 
over and against all the stumps, logs and trees 
in the woods, and suffering more or less mutila- 
tion of features from coming into violent contact 
with swinging limbs and brush, released. by -the 
fellow walking just the wrong distance in ad- 
vance, the dogs finally gave notice of something 
doing off at a distance. As the first sound from 
them reached us there was a crashing through the 
underbrush in the direction of Willis and Steve, 
and before we could definitely locate the direction 
they had taken they were out of hearing. 
Jack and I stumbled along guided by the bark- 
ing of the dogs, and finally found dogs and men 
gathered around a tree in which Steve confi- 
dently assured us “a ’possum was sure a roostin’.” 
The two large dogs were on opposite sides of the 
tree, baying lustily, while. the small one was 
making frantic rushes up the trunk of the tree, 
falling back with such force and persistency as 
would have discouraged any brute with even 
ordinary instinct. 
Willis drove them all off with a club, while 
Steve set to work felling the tree with an ax, 
which in some mysterious way he had carried 
concealed about his person. 
At a safe distance, and in the direction we 
judged the tree would fall, Jack and I started a 
fire with a handful of dry leaves and some small 
brush. The tree was not large, and Steve was a 
handy boy. with the ax, and soon we heard the 
warning crack ofthe falling *possum haven. As 
soon as it struck the ground the dogs dashed into 
the thick foliage thrashing about at a great rate, 
and a moment later the big dog backed out carry- 
ing in his mouth what at first glance looked like 
an overgrown rat. 
“Heah!” shouted Willis, meeting him with a 
rap on the head from his club. “Drap hit, you 
rascal.’ The dog promptly obeyed the re- 
enforced order. Picking up the diminutive 
quarry and holding it at arm’s length Willis said: 
“Dah now, ain’ nothin’ but a mis’ble no ’count 
kitten. Wan wuth cuttin’ tree for.” (foe 
“Nah,” grumbled Steve, “all de fat in he little 
att wouldn’ be ’nough to grease patch for rifle 
yall 
The tree had fallen across a road on which 
showed fresh wheel -tracks, and I insisted that 
we decrease the enormity of our trespass by re- 
moving*the obstruction. 
“Tl hold the ‘possum while you do it,” said 
Jack, promptly securing the game and retreating 
to the fire. 
Profiting by his unselfish example I appro- 
priated. the next most responsible position—that 
of walking boss—and Willis and Steve went to 
work. 
As with the Indian and white man who hunted 
together, agreeing to divide the game, and killed 
a turkey and a crow. “You can take the crow 
and I will take the turkey,’ said the wiley pale 
face, “or I will take the turkey and you can take 
the crow.” There was no other alternative. 
While wearing myself out telling the men to 
pull now at this, now at that end of the heavy 
tree, which *with much straining and grunting 
they were gradually getting off the road, I heard 
the little dog barking at a great rate, and looking 
toward the fire discovered my unselfish friend 
wilfully adding to his already heavy responsibili- 
ties by amusing it. Holding the ’possum by the 
tail he would lower it slowly to within the dog’s 
reach, then when the dog made a wild spring to 
catch it he would jerk it up again as high as his 
arm would reach, leaving the small dog leaping 
and shrieking in great excitement, he laughing 
méanwhile, like*a, care-free boy, at the dog’s 
anti¢s. In afmoment I observed another actor 
coming on-toxthesstage to take apparently the 
heavy villain’s part. The big dog was sneaking 
up from the rear. 
Belly to earth, stretched full length and with 
the stealth of a stalking cat, he crept on. When 
the ‘possum was lowered in front of the little 
. dog he moved forward a few quick steps. When 
it was jerked away he crouched motionless. 
My first inclination was to call out and ap- 
prise my friend of the other dog’s approach, but 
on reflection I concluded that it would be taking 
unnecessary trouble;/as he would probably learn 
of the fact himself -in.a very few moments, and 
he did. wes 
Never-hurrying nor changing his antics, the big 
dog finally reached a position just behind the un- 
conscious and care-free game keeper, and the 
next time the. little *~possum was lowered over 
the head of the’ small dog he leaped for it, 
snatched it from the hand of the astonished man 
and fled. rad 
Jack was game and immediately gave chase, 
commanding and _ beseeching the dog: “Bring 
back my ’possum,” until he came to grief over a 
fallen tree. , 
When I had explained it all to the darkeys they 
thought as I did, that the game was worth the 
candle, and we had only sympathy, albeit hilari- 
ous, for the bereaved one when he came limping 
back. 
“Go after him, Steve,” he begged. 
bring our *possum back,” 
“No use now, boss,” said Steve with a smoth- 
ered snort of laughter. 
“What will he do with it?” Jack anxiously in- 
quired. 
_ “Nothin’ now, suh. He done done it—he eat 
tt 
With a spirit of perseverance worthy a better 
cause we started afresh, and had about used up 
our remaining stock of endurance when the dogs 
again gave tongue. 
When we came up with them they had some- 
thing treed in an old log lying on the ground, 
and on investigation we found it hollow with a 
hole about midway. The boys cut a long switch 
with which to probe the hole, and Willis with his 
club drove the dogs away. Steve bent the switch 
and inserted it to the left only to find that the 
hole extended in that direction but a foot or so. 
Withdrawing it he tried the other direction and 
found the hollow extending eight or ten feet. 
Crowding around we watched anxiously while 
he thrust vigorously, and were greatly excited 
when he announced: “He in dah; I feel him.” 
“Give me the stick,’ I ordered, pushing him 
aside. “Let me try him.” Shoving the stick back 
and forth I plainly felt something moving about 
in the hole, and excited thereby, jabbed viciously. 
I am now of the opinion that a ’possum is very 
sensitive, and I know it is a fool pure and simple, 
for instead of acting in any of the many ways a 
varmint might have been expected to do, this 
brute, under the stimulating influence of the 
sharp-pointed probe, came scrambling out of the 
hole tail first. I have heretofore admitted that 
I am possessed with a foolish and wholly un- 
controllable fear of snakes, and as the cold, bare 
tail of the possum was trust out of the hole and 
twined around my hand, small wonder that I 
jumped to the conclusion that it was nothing less 
than a snake, and acted accordingly. 
My first shriek of terror raised every man off 
the ground, and caused even the dogs to slink 
away, growling in protest. I will match the back- 
ward jump I then made, both for height and dis- 
tance, against any on record. 
“He jumped plum over me,” said Willis in de- 
scribing the scene later, “an’ I wan’ stoopin’ 
much, either. An’ I believe he bus’ my ear drum 
wid dat fus yell, for I ain’ hear good since.” | 
The boys got the ’possum, a fairly good-sized 
one, and we concluded to quit and go home. I 
nearly fainted at every contact with a stick or 
bush on the return trip, and when safe abed 
spent the night in restless naps, waking each 
time trying to shake an imaginary cold snake 
from around my wrist. 
“Make him 
