BIM'S 'COON.
Through the last week of November and the first three of December our
raftmates drifted steadily southward down the great river. Although it
was the most unpleasant season of the year, and they encountered both
cold rains and bitter winds that chilled them to the marrow, the boys
thoroughly enjoyed their experience. They could always retreat to the
"shanty," which Solon kept well filled with warmth and comfort, and
they had the satisfaction of an uninterrupted progress. The management
of the raft called for a vast amount of hard and monotonous work; but
it gave them splendid muscles and tremendous appetites. They were
obliged to maintain a constant lookout for bars, reefs, snags, and
up-bound river craft, and by means of the long sweeps at either end of
the raft head it this way or that to avoid these obstacles and keep the
channel. They were always on the move from sunrise to sunset, and
generally travelled on moonlit nights as well. If the night promised
to be dark or stormy they tied up at the nearest bank.
At such times the outside blackness, the howling wind, driving
rain-squalls, and dashing waves only heightened the interior cosiness,
the light, warmth, and general comfort of their floating home. In it
they played games, sang songs to the accompaniment of Solon's banjo,
told stories, taught the dogs tricks; or, under Billy Brackett's
direction, pegged away at engineering problems, such as are constantly
arising in the course of railway construction. Even Winn tried his
hand at these; for under the stimulus of his companions' enthusiasm he
was beginning to regard the career of an engineer as one of the most
desirable and manly in which a young fellow could embark.
This voyage into the world, with such guides and associates as Billy
Brackett, Glen Elting, and Binney Gibbs, was proving of inestimable
value to this boy. Not only were his ideas of life broadened and his
stock of general information increased by it, but he was rapidly
learning to appreciate the beauty of modest pretensions, and a
self-reliance based upon knowledge and strength, as compared with the
boastfulness and self-conceit of ignorance.
Sometimes the _Venture_ was tied up for the night near other rafts, and
its crew exchanged visits with theirs. The regular river raftsmen were
generally powerful young giants, rough and unlettered, but a
good-natured, happy-go-lucky lot, full of tales of adventure in the
woods or on the river, to which the boys listened with a never-failing
delight. Nor were the raftmates at all behindhand in this interchange
of good stories; for they could tell of life on the Plains or in
California, of Indians, buffalo, mountains, deserts, and gold-mines, to
which their auditors listened with wide-open eyes and gaping mouths.
During the pauses Solon was always ready with some account of the
wonderful performances of his long-ago 'coon dog Bijah.
So wise did our raftmates become concerning 'coons and their habits,
from Solon's teachings, that finally nothing would satisfy them but a
'coon hunt of their own. Billy Brackett was certain that Bim, who by
this time had fully recovered from the effects of his burns, would
prove as good at finding 'coons as he had at everything else in which
he had been given a chance. Solon was doubtful, because of Bim's color
and the length of his tail.
"I hain't nebber see no fust-class 'coon dawg wha' warn't yallar an'
stumpy tail lak my Bijah war," he would remark, gazing reflectively at
Bim, and shaking his head. "Of cose dish yer Bim dawg uncommon
knowin', an' maybe him tree a 'coon 'mos' ez good ez Bijah; but hit's a
gif, an' a mighty skurce gif 'mong dawgs."
"Oh, come off, Solon!" Billy Brackett would answer. "You just wait
till you see Bim tree a 'coon. He'll do it so quick, after we once get
into a 'coon neighborhood, that your Bijah would be left a thousand
miles behind, and you won't ever want to mention his name again."
So one night when the _Venture_ was well down towards the lower end of
the State of Arkansas a grand 'coon hunt was arranged. They drew lots
to decide who should be left behind in charge of the raft, and, much to
his disgust, the unwelcome task fell to Glen. So he remained on board
with Nanita and Cherub, as the pup had been named in honor of Bim,
though it was generally called "Cheer-up," and the others sallied forth
into the woods.
They were well provided with fat pine torches and armed with axes. Bim
was full of eager excitement, and dashed away into the darkness the
moment they set foot on shore. His incessant barking showed him to be
first on this side and then on that, while once in a while they caught
a glimpse of his white form glancing across the outer rim of their
circle of torchlight.
"Isn't he hunting splendidly?" cried Billy Brackett, with enthusiasm.
"Yes, sah," replied Solon; "but him huntin' too loud. We ain't gettin'
to de place yet, an' ef he don' quit he barkin', him skeer off all de
'coon in de State."
So Bim was called in, and restrained with a bit of rope until a
corn-field was reached that Solon pronounced the right kind of a place
from which to make a start. Then the eager dog was again set free, and
in less than a minute was heard giving utterance to the peculiar
yelping note that announced his game as "treed."
"What did I tell you?" shouted Billy Brackett, triumphantly, as he
started on a run for the point from which the sounds proceeded. "How's
that for--" but at that instant the speaker tripped over a root, and
measured his length on the ground with a crash that knocked both breath
and powers of speech from his body. The others were so close behind
that they fell on top of him like a row of bricks, and in the resulting
confusion their torch was extinguished.
Hastily picking themselves up, and without pausing to relight the pine
splinters, they rushed pell-mell towards the sound of barking, bumping
into trees, stumbling over logs, scratching their faces and tearing
their clothes on thorny vines. But no one minded. Bim had treed a
'coon in the shortest time on record, and now if they could only get
it, the triumph would be ample reward for all their trials.
Finally, bruised, battered, and ragged, they reached the tree which
Bim, with wild leapings, was endeavoring to climb. Their first move
was to illumine the scene with a huge bonfire. By its light they
proceeded to a closer examination of the situation. The tree was a
huge moss-hung water-oak, evidently too large to be chopped down, as
all the 'coon trees of Solon's stories had been. So Winn offered to
climb it and shake out the 'coon. As yet they had not discovered the
animal, but Bim was so confident of its presence that they took his
word for it.
Solon had raised a false alarm as the first gleam of firelight
penetrated the dark mass of foliage above them by exclaiming:
"Dar he! Me see um! Lookee, Marse Brack, in dat ar crutch!"
But what the old negro saw proved to be a bunch of mistletoe, and when
Winn began his climb the 'coon's place of concealment was still
unknown. Up went the boy higher and higher, carefully examining each
limb as he passed it, until he was among the very topmost branches of
the tree. The others stood on opposite sides of the trunk, with axes
or clubs uplifted, and gazed anxiously upward until their necks ached.
At length Winn became aware that from the outermost end of a slender
branch just above his head a pair of green eyes were glaring at him.
The glare was accompanied by an angry spitting sound. "I've found him,
fellows! Look out below!" he shouted, and began a vigorous shaking of
the branch. All at once the animal uttered a sound that caused a
sudden cessation of his efforts. It also caused Winn to produce a
match from his pocket, light it, and hold the tiny flame high above his
head. Then, without a word, he began to descend the tree.
As he dropped to the ground the others exclaimed in amazement, "What's
the matter, Winn? Where's the 'coon? Why didn't you shake him down?"
"He's up there," replied Winn, "but I don't want him. If any of you
do, you'd better go up and shake him down. I'd advise you to take a
torch along, though."
Not another word of explanation would he give them, and finally Binney
Gibbs, greatly provoked at the other's stubbornness, declared he would
go up and shake that 'coon down--in a hurry, too. He so far accepted
Winn's advice as to provide himself with a blazing knot, and then up he
started. In a few minutes he too returned to the ground, saying that
he guessed Winn was about right, and they didn't want that 'coon after
all.
"What in the name of all foolishness do you mean?" cried Billy
Brackett, impatiently. "Speak out, man, and tell us, can't you?"
But Binney acted precisely as Winn had done, and advised any one who
wanted that 'coon to go and get it.
"Well, I will!" exclaimed the young engineer, almost angrily; "and I
only hope I can manage to drop him on top of one of your heads."
With this he started up the tree, and disappeared among its thick
brandies. He quickly made his way to the top. Then the rustling of
leaves ceased, there was a moment of silence, followed by a muttered
exclamation, and Billy Brackett came hastily down to where the others
were expectantly awaiting him.
"Let's go home, boys," he said, as he picked up his axe and started in
the direction of the river. "Come, Bim; your reputation as a 'coon dog
is so well established that there is no need to test it any further."
Poor Solon, who was too old and stiff to climb the tree, was completely
mystified by these strange proceedings; but his expostulation of,
"Wha--wha's de meanin' ob dish yer--!" was cut short by the departure
of his companions, and he was obliged to hasten after them.
A few minutes after the 'coon hunters had gone a big boy, and a little
girl with a tear-stained face, who had come from a house just beyond
the corn-field, reached the spot, to which they had been attracted by
the firelight. As they did so, the child uttered a cry of joy, sprang
to the water-oak, and caught up a frightened-looking little black and
white kitten that was cautiously descending the big trunk backward.
To this day the outcome of that 'coon hunt remains a sealed mystery to
poor Solon, while Bim has never been invited to go on another.