The Bamberg herald. [volume] (Bamberg, S.C.) 1891-1972, 1915-07-01


enjoyed to the full his corn on the
cob. AS he finished his lunch and
was washing his hands, there came
another crow from the rooster
nearer this time, just beyond the
field of corn. 1t would have been the
safer and saner thing from the view
point of a sly old coon to have trav-
eled around the corn on the topmost
ridges of the zig-zag fence but the
hunger call overcame his usual eau
ton, and he loped straight over the
corn rows, in the direction Of the
farm yard. In a few seconds he
reached the other side, and there in
the moonlight stood the chicken
house, the mecca of his pilgrimage!
Stealthily climbing the picket fence,
still keeping in the shadows, he slow
ly reconnoiters the premises, to make
sure the coast was clear. The fowl
house door stood open and, there was
nothing between him and his ban
quet. With muscles tense drawn, he
drew nearer and nearer. Just here
things began to happen. A sleepy
old hound, wandering around, won
dering if it were worth his while to
bark at that big yellow moon hang
ing low over the barn, caught
glimpse of a dark form moving
across the chicken yard. The moon
was forgotten and with bugle like
bay, sandwiched between a snarl and
a growl, he made a dash for the in
truder. with a lunge so frantic that
he was carried partly through the
palings of the fence. While he was
shaking himself free from the en-
tangling pickets, the raccoon was
half way across the corn and max
ing for the friendly shadows of the
swamp. Gaining this as the dog was
Aoundering and numbering through
the corn stalks, he springs on the
trunk Of a fallen tree, runs rapidly
down its length. leaps at right an
giles, as far as he can, climbs tree,
crosses by over tapping branches to
another, which stands on the bank
OF the creek. From a hanging limb
he drops without moments hesita-
ton into the water. Half SWIM
ming and half wading, he makes his
way up stream, scrambling over the
scaly coils of more than one moe
casin, hiding among the rocks. Once
more in his native angle Of vines
briars. cane and undergrowth-with
the friendly track effacing stream
nearby he feels safer. and takes
time to pause, catch his breath and
listen. Only an occasional bell like
note reaches his ears. as the hound
f1oundering aimlessly in the edge of
the swamp-picks up the trail for a
moment, only to lose it again. Our
friend of the gum tree hollow, dis
gusted with himself, dogs, chickens,
and the world in general strikes the
back trail through. the swamp.
While skirting the edge of sedgy
pool with spiteful grab, he seized
and devcured the first tenor of the
Frog-Pond Orchestra. Remember
ing about those blue black musca-
dimes, hanging so low he makes his
way there-and after feasting pushes
on up the trail that follows the wind
ing of the creek. In the dense
growth of stunted reeds he stumbleS
upon the carelessly built nest of
marsh hen. The mother bird with
harsh clacking cries, flutters away.
half flying, half running. Left in
possession of the nest. with its treas
ure of mottled eggs the coon makes
a hearty meal. unheeding the loud
calls of the frantic mother. Arriving
in the vicinity of his usual haunts,
the trail becomes palmer and sur
rounding objects more familiar.
There being no need now for hurry
or caution. he very deliberately takes
up his position just above the en-
trance of a wood mouse's burrow,
and sits, solemnly and patiently
awaiting the home coming of the
little earth dweller. He did not have
long to wait-as the trembling grass
stems marked a movement in the
covered runaway to the burrow. A
quick dip of the raccoon's claws
faint little squeak Of terror and
there was one less member of wood
mouse colony. and one less pang of
hunger in Mr.. Raccoon's stomach. A
spreading glow in the eastern sky
warned him that another day was
coming so with a feeling Of failure
and chagrin he clambered up to his
bachelor apartments in the big gum
tree. to doze until another sunset in
the swamp.-Greenville News.