A NIGHT HUNT FOR COONS.
"What do you think," said Thad, one afternoon, after they had been
nearly a week at the plantation, "tonight the major's going to
take us out on a regular old 'coon hunt. I've tried to get 'coons
that way lots of times up home, but never had the right kind of
dog. But that yellow Spider of his is the best in the county, he
says, while Crusoe is a good second."
"That sounds fine, and I sure will be glad to go along. But is it
Robinson Crusoe he means when he calls that poor white dub?" asked
Maurice, looking up from the book he was reading after work hours.
"Yes; you see he found the poor chap with a broken leg on an
island in the swamp. He would have starved to death only Mr.
Buckley happened along in a canoe. And so he named him Crusoe.
They make a splendid pair for the business, he says," went on the
excited Thad.
"Who says--Crusoe?" asked the other. "Oh, shucks! You know I mean
the major. Now, there's his bear dogs, they're a different
proposition, eh; all of 'em big and fierce, just like you'd expect
to find when it comes to stopping a black bear in the canebrake.
And he says we might try a chance with him tomorrow after Bruin.
He's got a rifle to loan us apiece!"
"I suppose you mean the major has, and not the bear. All right,
I'm in anything like that. Never saw a wild bear in my life, and
perhaps I'll be so scared that I won't know which end of the gun
to aim at him; but I'm game to try, Thad; just let him give me a
chance."
"Here he comes now," declared Thad.
"Good gracious! the bear?" cried his chum, in pretended alarm.
"Rats! Major Buckley, of course."
The planter was never tired of the company of the two boys. He had
no children of his own and enjoyed the coming of these two bright
lads so much that he declared it was quite a revelation to him.
"I don't see how I'm going to stand it after you leave here, boys,
he said, as he came up; "I never before realized what it meant to
have young blood around. Tell you what I proposed to the missus
last night after you went to bed. I've got some nephews and nieces
down in Natchez, children of my younger brother, Larry. Don't
believe they're getting along as well as they might since poor
Larry lost his life while out duck hunting in a bayou four years
back. I'm thinking seriously of running down to see my kith and
kin, and, if I fancy 'em as much as I think I will from the
pictures they sent me awhile back, I'm going to bring 'em here,
bag and baggage, to make their home with us. And that's what comes
of knowing you two lads. They'll have to thank you for their good
fortune."
"But we never even heard of them, major," protested Maurice.
"That's so, my lad, but you've made such an impression on my old
heart that my eyes are opened, and I see it isn't right for us to
live on in this fine place while poor old Larry's children and
widow are possibly in want. My mind is quite made up on that
score, and if they don't come it won't be my fault," the planter
went on.
"Then I'm glad for one that we visited your plantation," asserted
Maurice.
"Here, too," echoed his chum, immediately.
Then they fell to talking of the anticipated night's sport with
the 'coon pack in the woods.
"It's late for the best hunting in that line," remarked the owner
of Crusoe and Spider; "you see the 'coons are fattest along about
the ripe corn full moon, and that's when we go after 'em most.
Still, I reckon we can scare up a few, though our way of finding
'em may be off color a bit. But I thought you wouldn't mind that,
so long as you saw how it was done."
Both boys immediately declared that they were indebted to him for
thinking so much about their pleasure.
"Humbug!" said the gentleman, vigorously; "why, your coming has
given me more pleasure than I could ever return. It's wakened me
up, my wife says, and given me a new lease of life. Why, just to
meet one of old Ambrose's nephews has been a tonic for me. Haven't
I spent nearly every evening in retailing old stories of our
doings over on that blessed island of Cuba, when we were with the
insurrectos and fighting against the power of Spain? No, I just
couldn't do too much for such fine lads as you are."
Such talk was enough to make both boys blush. But they were
growing to like Major Buckley more and more with each passing day,
and the recollection of their delightful experiences while his
guests would always remain as a happy era in their southward
voyage.
"No use going out right after supper, boys. Better wait a little.
It's true that the half moon will have about set by then, but we
can use torches just as well. Besides, I always think they add to
the picturesque character of the hunt. I've had them all prepared
of pitch pine, full of resin, and able to give us all the light we
want."
Of course, both boys knew considerable about 'coon hunting at
night--they would not have been true sons of old Kentucky
otherwise. But it happened that neither had ever been fortunate
enough to participate in a genuine chase, and the chance appealed
to them vigorously.
About nine o'clock the major announced that it was time to make a
start.
The barking of the eager dogs that scented the coming fun told
that time was passing slowly for them as well. Soon the little
party had assembled and started for the edge of the big cornfield.
Here several shocks of the white corn had been left as a tempting
bait for a late hunt, and it was at such a point they anticipated
having the dogs pick up the scent.
Besides the major and the boys there were three colored brothers.
One of these was named Black Joe, and he was a faithful old white-
headed negro, who had served the major's father through the civil
war. When Buckley married and settled down, Ms first act had been
to hunt up old Joe and bring him to his plantation as a sort of
major-domo or general overseer, and Joe made good every time.
He was a quaint darky, with a fund of original observations that
sometimes made it hard for the boys to keep straight faces.
Besides, this Black Joe could quote Scripture by the yard, and
nothing ever happened but what he had a verse ready. Why, one day
when Thad was walking with him over some newly cleared ground, old
Joe suddenly clutched his arm, drawing him back and pointing to a
little but ugly ground adder that lay in the path, instantly said:
"Man mus' watch as well as pray!"
And no one could manage the 'coon pack as well as Black Joe. When
the excitement raged, and the best trained dogs were frantic, the
master might command without obtaining obedience; but let old Joe
tell a dog to stop barking, or to get out of sight, and it was
simply wonderful how his words bore fruit.
A trail was immediately struck by the first shock of corn--this was
the flint variety, and as such generally used for hominy
throughout the entire south.
Away went the pack with a chorus of eager yelps, while the hunters
trailed after them.
"No hurry, boys," said the major, leisurely; "when they get him
treed they'll let us know. Then's the time for us to get near and
decide whether the tree shall be chopped or a nigger climb up to
knock the critter down to the dogs. We never shoot a 'coon 'less
the dogs prove unable to master him."
"Then that does sometimes happen, sir?" questioned Thad.
"Occasionally, but not often. A big 'coon may have unusually sharp
claws and tear the dogs bad. Then he jumps another tree before
they can stop him. After that we think it best to knock him down,
rather than risk the lives of the dogs. They's plenty of 'coons,
you see, but mighty few good dogs,"
Maurice smiled at the sentiment expressed, and yet it covered the
ground from the standpoint of the man. The 'coon's opinion was not
worth asking, it seemed.
Suddenly the yelping changed its tenor.
"Does that mean that the 'coon has got away?" asked Maurice.
"Not by a jug full. He's taken to a tree. I reckon they hit it up
so fast after him he couldn't reach his own tree, so he bounced up
the nearest one. We'll soon see," said the major, as they moved in
the direction of the clamor.
"What if he gets to his home tree?" continued Thad, who wanted to
know it all, even though not from Missouri.
"That we call good luck, because, you see, boys, sometimes we get
three or four varmints out of the one stand. Why, I remember once
we kept smoking 'em out till nine had been shook by the dogs. It
was what I called the colony tree," laughed the planter.
Presently they drew close to the spot where the racket was being
maintained by the dogs. The 'coon was silent, but doubtless his
eyes glowed maliciously as he squatted on a limb or in'a fork and
surveyed the yelping crew below.
"I sees 'im!" exclaimed one of the negroes, pointing upward,
'right on dat 'ere limb nigh whar it fo'ks, sah. Dat Mistah Coon,
foh suah, 'deed it am!" exclaimed the discoverer.
"You're right, Klem," said the major, upon looking closely; "see,
boys, you can detect the yellow gleam of his eyes as he watches
us; but not a blessed movement does he make. Hey, Klem, you saw
him first, and it's your chance to climb up and knock him out."
The negro hardly waited for permission, knowing the rules under
which his master usually hunted at night. He had a club in his
hand, which he transferred to his teeth as he started to climb.
The tree was rather large and would have taken too much time to
fell for one coon; so another method was resorted to in order to
get the animal down to where the eager dogs could pounce upon him.
"Look at the dogs!" said Maurice to his chum, while the climber
was cautiously approaching the animal on the limb, so as to
prevent it from ascending higher into the tree.
They were almost frantic, licking their chops, whining and
actually shivering with eagerness. Well did they know that
presently there would come to the ground a furry mass with sharp
claws and teeth, on which they were expected to leap and finish
with a few bites directed either at the throat or the backbone.
"Watch out dar!" came in a thrilling tone from above.
Klem was now close upon the coon, which had retreated further out
on the limb. When the negro climber had gone as far as he dared he
suddenly gave a shake that sent the wretched animal in a
struggling heap down through space.
The dogs were waiting. They saw the coon coming and were on the
spot ere he landed, so that almost before he could attempt any
resistance both Crusoe and Spider were at his throat.
There was a short, if furious, tussle, for a coon is gifted with
considerable strength and agility, though seldom a match for the
right, kind of a dog.
Then it was all over.
The major lifted the still quivering animal.
"Pretty fat critter. A few more like him will pay us for coming
out, boys," he declared.
Then they once more returned to the cornfield, where the keen
nosed dogs speedily caught up another scent.
Again the party followed leisurely until the signal came that the
quarry had been safely treed. This time they found that it was
only a small tree, so it was cut down.
"I want you to see all the phases of coon hunting, boys,"
explained the planter, while the chips were flying under the axes
of Klein and Cudjo.
Of course, the instant the swaying tree commenced to topple the
animal made a frantic leap; but those sharp eyes of the dogs had
never once lost track of the quarry, and they were quickly after
the coon, which, unable to scurry up another tree, had to turn at
bay.
It was soon over, and a second victim had been added to the score,
much to the delight of the blacks, who knew they would surely have
their share of the spoils of the night hunt.
The next coon turned out to be a fat 'possum, and loud were the
exclamations of joy on the part of Klem and his comrades when this
fact was made plain. Indeed, Maurice believed he would not have
taken any great stock in this method of hunting, which seemed so
unfair to the game, only on account of the chances it gave the
negroes for a square meal in the line of the greatest delicacies
they knew. So the hunt went on for several hours.
When about midnight they concluded to return to the house, seven
coons and two 'possums were loaded upon the shoulders of the three
attendants. And the dogs lagged behind, quite tired out with their
exertions; though ready to prick up their ears at ike slightest
suspicious sound from the gloomy woods around them.
"How did you like it, Maurice," asked Thad later on, as they were
getting ready for bed.
"Oh, it was an interesting experience," returned the other; "but I
don't know that I'd give much to repeat the dose."
And Thad was of the same mind. "But that bear hunt will be
something different, you bet," he observed.
It was.