This animal is peculiar to America. He resembles the bear, but is much
smaller and more elegantly formed. He is an active and lively animal;
an excellent climber of trees, in which the sharpness of his claws
greatly aids him; and he will even venture to the extremity of slender
branches. He is a good-tempered animal, and, consequently, easily
tamed; but his habit of prying into every thing renders him rather
troublesome, for he is in constant motion, and examining every object
within his reach. He generally sits on his hinder parts when feeding,
conveying all his food to his mouth with his fore paws. He will eat
almost every kind of food, but is particularly fond of sweetmeats, and
will indulge in spirituous liquors even to drunkenness. He feeds
chiefly at night, in a wild state, and sleeps during the day.
Brickell gives an interesting account, in his "History of North
Carolina," of the cunning manifested by the raccoon in pursuit of its
prey. "It is fond of crabs, and, when in quest of them, will take its
station by a swamp, and hang its tail over into the water, which the
crabs mistake for food, and lay hold of it; as soon as the raccoon
feels them pinch, it pulls up its tail with a sudden jerk, and they
generally quit their hold upon being removed from the water. The
raccoon instantly seizes the crabs in its mouth, removes them to a
distance from the water, and greedily devours its prey. It is very
careful how it takes them up, which it always does from behind, holding
them transversely, in order to prevent their catching its mouth with
their nippers."
When enraged, or desirous of attacking a person, the raccoon advances
with arched back and bristling hair, and with its chin or under jaw
close to the ground, uttering gruff sounds of displeasure. If once
injured, it seldom forgives its enemy. On one occasion, a servant
struck a tame raccoon with a whip: in vain did he afterwards attempt a
reconciliation; neither eggs, nor food most coveted by the animal,
availed in pacifying it. At his approach, it flew into a sort of fury;
it darted at him with sparkling eyes, uttering loud cries.
Its accents of anger were very singular; sometimes one might fancy them
the whistling of the curlew, at others, the hoarse bark of an old dog.
If any one beat it, it opposed no resistance; it concealed its head and
its paws, like the hedgehog, by rolling itself into a ball. In this
position it would suffer death. When its chain broke, it would allow no
one to approach it, and it was with great difficulty refettered.