Two Little Savages

by Ernest Thompson Seton

  XXX

  A New Kind of Coon

  A merry meal now followed, chaffing and jokes passed several hoursaway, but the boys were rested and restless by nine o'clock and eagerfor more adventures.

  "Aren't there any Coons 'round here, Mr. Clark?"

  "Oh, I reckon so. Y-e-s! Down a piece in the hardwood bush near WiddyBiddy Baggs's place there's lots o' likely Cooning ground."

  That was enough to stir them all, for the place was near at hand.Peetweet alone was for staying in camp, but when told that he mightstay and keep house by himself he made up his mind to get all the funhe could. The night was hot and moonless, Mosquitoes abundant, andin trampling and scrambling through the gloomy woods the hunters hadplenty of small troubles, but they did not mind that so long as Turkwas willing to do his part. Once or twice he showed signs of interestin the trail, but soon decided against it.

  Thus they worked toward the Widdy Baggs's till they came to a drybrook bed. Turk began at once to travel up this, while Caleb triedto make him go down. But the Dog recognized no superior officer whenhunting. After leading his impatient army a quarter of a mile awayfrom the really promising heavy timber, Turk discovered what _he_was after, and that was a little muddy puddle. In this he calmly laydown, puffing, panting and lapping with energy, and his humble humanfollowers had nothing to do but sit on a log and impatiently awaithis lordship's pleasure. Fifteen minutes went by, and Turk was stillenjoying himself, when Sam ventured at last:

  "'Pears to me if I owned a Dog I'd own him."

  "There's no use crowdin' him," was the answer. "He's runnin' thishunt, an' he knows it. A Dog without a mind of his own is no 'count."

  So when Turk had puffed like a Porpoise, grunted and wallowed likea Hog, to his heart's content and to the envy of the eight who satsweltering and impatient, he arose, all dribbling ooze, probably toseek a new wallowing place, when his nose discovered something on thebank that had far more effect than all the coaxings and threats of the"waiting line," and he gave a short bark that was a note of joy forthe boys. They were all attention now, as the old Hound sniffed itout, and in a few moments stirred the echoes with an opening blast ofhis deepest strain.

  "Turk's struck it rich!" opined Caleb.

  The old Dog's bawling was strong now, but not very regular, showingthat the hunted animal's course was crooked. Then there was a longbreak in it, showing possibly that the creature had run a fence orswung from one tree to another.

  "That's a Coon," said Yan eagerly, for he had not forgotten any detailof the other lesson.

  Caleb made no reply.

  The Hound tongued a long way off, but came back to the pond and hadone or two checks.

  "It's a great running for a Coon," Yan remarked, at length in doubt.Then to Caleb, "What do you think?"

  Caleb answered slowly: "I dunno what to think. It runs too far for aCoon, an' 'tain't treed yet; an' I kin tell by the Dog's voice he'smad. If you was near him now you'd see all his back hair stannin' up."

  Another circle was announced by the Dog's baying, and then the long,continuous, high-pitched yelping told that the game was treed at last.

  "Well, that puts Fox and Skunk out of it," said the Trapper, "but itcertainly don't act like a Coon on the ground."

  "First there gets the Coon!" shouted Blackhawk, and the boys skurriedthrough the dark woods, getting many a scratch and fall. As it was,Yan and Wesley arrived together and touched the tree at the samemoment. The rest came straggling up, with Char-less last and Guy alittle ahead of him. Guy wanted to relate the full particulars of hislatest glorious victory over Char-less, but all attention was now onold Turk, who was barking savagely up the tree.

  "Don't unnerstan' it at all, at all," said Caleb. "Coony kind o' tree,but Dog don't act Coony."

  "Let's have a fire," said the Woodpecker, and the two crowds of boysbegan each a fire and strove hard to get theirs first ablaze.

  The firelight reached far up into the night, and once or twice thehunters thought they saw the shining eyes of the Coon.

  "Now who's to climb?" asked the Medicine Man.

  "I will, I will," etc., seven times repeated; even Guy and Char-lesschimed in.

  "You're mighty keen hunters, but I want you to know I can't tell whatit is that's up that tree. It may be a powerful big Coon, but seems tome the Dog acts a little like it was a Cat, and 'tain't so long sincethere was Painter in this county. The fact of him treeing for Turkdon't prove that he's afraid of a Dog; lots of animals does that'cause they don't want to be bothered with his noise. If it's a Cat,him as climbs is liable to get his face scratched. Judging by theactions of the Dog, _I think it's something dangerous_. Now whowants the job?"

  For awhile no one spoke. Then Yan, "I'll go if you'll lend me therevolver."

  "So would I," said Wesley quickly.

  "Well, now, we'll draw straws"--and Yan won. Caleb felled a thin treeagainst the big one and Yan climbed as he had done once before.

  There was an absence of the joking and chaffing that all had keptup when on the other occasion Yan went after the Coon. There was atension that held them still and reached the climber to thrill himwith a weird sense of venturing into black darkness to face a fearfuland mysterious danger. The feeling increased as he climbed from theleaning tree to the great trunk of the Basswood, to lose sight of hiscomrades in the wilderness of broad leaves and twisted tree-arms.The dancing firelight sent shadow-blots and light-spots in a dozendirections with fantastic effect. Some of the feelings of the night atGarney's grave came back to him, but this time with the knowledge ofreal danger. A little higher and he was out of sight of his friendsbelow. The danger began to appal him; he wanted to go back, and tojustify the retreat he tried to call out, "No Coon here!" but hisvoice failed him, and, as he clung to the branch, he rememberedCaleb's words, "There's nothing ahead of grit, an' grit ain't so muchnot bein' scairt as it is goin' straight ahead when you _are_scairt." No; he would go on, come what would.

  "Find anything?" drawled a cheery voice below, just at the right time.

  Yan did not pause to answer, but continued to climb into the gloom.Then he thought he heard a Coon snarl above him. He swung to a higherbranch and shouted, "Coon here, all right!" but the moment he did soa rattling growl sounded close to him, and looking down he saw a hugegrey beast spring to a large branch between him and the ground, thencome climbing savagely toward him. As it leaped to a still nearerplace Yan got a dim view of a curious four-cornered face, shaggyand striped, like the one he saw so long ago in Glenyan--it was anenormous _Lynx_.

  Yan got such a shock that he nearly lost his hold, but quicklyrecovering, he braced himself in a crotch, and got out the revolverjust as the Lynx with a fierce snarl leaped to a side branch thatbrought it nearly on a level with him. He nervously cocked the pistol,and scarcely attempting to sight in the darkness, he fired and missed.The Lynx recoiled a little and crouched at the report. The boys belowraised a shout and Turk outdid them all in racket.

  "A Lynx!" shouted Yan, and his voice betrayed his struggle with fear.

  "Look out!" Caleb called. "You better not let him get too close."

  The Lynx was growling ferociously. Yan put forth all his will-power tocontrol his trembling hand, took more deliberate aim, and fired. Thefierce beast was struck, but leaped wildly at the boy. He threw up hisarm and it buried its teeth in his flesh, while Yan clung desperatelyto the tree with the other arm. In a moment he knew he would bedragged off and thrown to the ground, yet felt less fear now than hehad before. He clutched for the revolver with the left hand, but itfound only the fur of the Lynx, and the revolver dropped from hisgrasp. Now he was indeed without hope, and dark fear fell on him. Butthe beast was severely wounded. Its hind quarters were growing heavy.It loosed its hold of Yan and struggled to get on the limb. A kick fromhis right foot upset its balance; it slipped from the tree and floppedto the ground below, wounded, but full of fight. Turk rushed at it, butgot a blow from its armed paw that sent him off howling.

  "He nervously fired
and missed."]

  A surge of reaction came over Yan. He might have fainted, but again heremembered the Trapper's words, "Bravery is keeping on even when you_are_ skairt." He pulled himself together and very cautiouslyworked his way back to the leaning tree. Hearing strange sounds,yells, growls, sounds of conflict down below, expecting every momentto hear the Lynx scramble up the trunk again, to finish him, dimlyhearing but not comprehending the shouts, he rested once at theleaning tree and breathed freely.

  "Hurry up, Yan, with that revolver," shouted Blackhawk.

  "I dropped it long ago."

  "Where is it?"

  Yan slid down the sapling without making reply. The Lynx had gone,but not far. It would have got away, but Turk kept running around andbothering it so it could not even climb a tree, and the noise theymade in the thicket was easy to follow.

  "Where's the revolver?" shouted Caleb, with unusual excitement.

  "I dropped it in the fight."

  "I know. I heard it fall in the bushes," and Sam soon found it.

  Caleb seized it, but Yan said feebly, "Let me! Let me! It's my fight!"

  Caleb surrendered the pistol, said "Look out for the Dog!" and Yancrawled through the bushes till that dark moving form was seen again.Another shot and another. The sound of combat died away, and theIndians raised a yell of triumph--all but Little Beaver. A giddinesscame over him; he trembled and reeled, and sank down on a root. Caleband Sam came up quickly.

  "What's the matter, Yan?"

  "I'm sick--I----"

  Caleb took his arm. It was wet. A match was struck.

  "Hallo, you're bleeding."

  "Yes, he had me--he caught me up the tree. I--I--thought I was agoner."

  All interest was now turned from the dead Lynx to the wounded boy.

  "Let's get him to the water."

  "Guess the camp well is the nearest."

  Caleb and Sam took care of Yan, while the others brought the Lynx.Yan grew better as they moved slowly homeward. He told all about theattack of the Lynx.

  "Gosh! I'd 'a' been scared out o' my wits," said Sam.

  "Guess I would, too," added Caleb, to the surprise of the Tribe; "upthere, helpless, with a wounded Lynx--I tell you!"

  "Well, I _was_ scared--just as scared as I could be," admittedYan.

  At camp a blazing fire gave its lurid light. Cold water was handy andYan's bleeding arm was laid bare. He was shocked and yet secretlydelighted to see what a mauling he had got, for his shirt sleeve wassoaked with blood, and the wondering words of his friends was sweetestmusic to his ears.

  Caleb and the city boy dressed his wounds, and when washed they didnot look so very dreadful.

  They were too much excited to sleep for an hour at least, and as theysat about the fire--that they did not need but would not dream ofdoing without--Yan found no lack of enthusiasm in the circle, andblushed with pleasure to be the hero of the camp. Guy didn't seeanything to make so much fuss about, but Caleb said, "I knowed it; Ialways knowed you was the stuff, after the night you went to Garney'sgrave."