The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1903-10-11

other game quadruped, and when the
female is nursing her young during the
summer months her scent is hardly per-
ceptible to the dogs, thus saving her and
her litter from many race for life. The
scent of the coon grows stronger as the
cold weather advances, and through No
vember and December the dogs follow it
with comparatively little difficulty.
While the female coon is social and
domestic, the male is quite the reverse. He
is surly and solitary, ranges entirely alone,
and gives no care or attention to family
matters. If two males meet in the woods
they fight furiously and not infrequently
TO the death. An old southern Indiana
coon hunter tells how he once surprised two
male coons fighting in a cornfield. They
were so frantically in earnest that they
flew at each other even after the dogs had
jumped upon them and taken a hand in the
dispute. The male makes his range for
forage much wider than the female does,
and. having one to look after but him.
SELF more frequently escapes the hunter.
In spring and summer the margin of
| brooks and ponds and soft mud in the
swamps in every coon country are always
thickly indented with the graceful foot
prints of the coon, for in these months he
| SPENDS his nights catching frogs, fish,
| lizards, grubs and mussels, which are then
| his chief subsistence.
HE KNOWS GOOD THING.
| Later on he ranges among the buckle
berry and blackberry patches and feasts
| on the fruit. When the milk comes in the
corn is the coons gala time, for he loves
| the tender succulent grains, as the farmer
| knows to his sorrow, and great are the
| risks he will take to forage i'm the fields.
II is not until the berries are gone and
| the corn is grown tough in the ear that the
| coon begins to look about for his winter
stores. These he lays by plentifully from
| the beechnut, chestnut and acorn crops,
and on these depends the hunting of the
coon when he is at his best. During the
| hunting season he is fat and solid and wide
| awake, provided there are plenty of nuts
| and persimmons. If the crops are failure
and he goes to his winter quarters thin
and miserable, poorly prepared for the
| long winters sleep aud fast, he wanders
| forth on every day of thaw, although the
| snow may lie deep on the ground, in search
| of such flag ends OF provender as may fall
| to his lot. At such times the unfortunate
| coon may be seen lowering, worn and hag-
| gered, on the edge of the farm and door,
yards, waiting for opportunity to pick
| up scraps from the kitchen, the poultry
| yard or the pigsty. One popularity of the
| coon which, like most of his peculiarities
| have escaped the naturalists who write
| books, is that he never touches food until
| he has quaffed at some spring brook,
| even if he is compelled to go far to find 1t.
] Old coon hunters down in the southern
| Indiana knobs declare that the coon dips
| every mouthfu of food into water before
| eating it, but like all old hunters, old coon
| hunters say many things that it would
! bother them to prove.
| 1t is doubtful whether there are many
| people who know that in no other country
| on the globe besides the American CONT
| nent can the coon be found, and. although
| he is a favorite game in the South, he is
| nowhere so gamy and excellent in coudi-
| ton as i'm the middle States, and particu-
| larry in the southern Indiana knobs When
the coon grows inordinately fat and large
| he lessons his chance of falling a victim to
| the hunter, for then he ventures but a
short distance from his hiding place and
gives the dog small opportunity for finding
his trail II was rare for this season, even
| in the days when coon hunting was a
| science. that a coon over twenty pounds
| in weight was ever bagged although they
! have been known to attain a weight OF
| forty pounds.
| The knobs. hills and valleys OF southern
Indiana were always great retreats for the
| coon, but never were these maligned ami
| mails so plentiful as this year. The man
ner in which the opportunities they offer
| for rare good sport are neglected enough
| to make the bones of the dead-and-gonf
lovers of the starlit chase TO turn and rattle
| in their graves. Hunters go out on the
| barren hills daily and stand shiverine OF
a fha fno,
| that never comes. or tramp from mornins
till night through swampy wales or BRAN.
bly, thickets hunting the quail that fail Il
rise, while sport that famous men loved
| and elevated and grew enthusiastic over
| years ago. and from which no hunter car
! return without pleasure and profit goe:
begging on every side. What the countr,
| needs is sportSmen with less affectatior
and more snap. and more of the coon dog:
of our fathers. WILL DIETZ
| Charlestown. Ind.