that he had come suddenly upon something in the
corn-field.

"`A varmint!' cried Abe; and the next moment appeared the dog, running
up full tilt among the maize plants and up to the fence. I could see
some dark object before him, that passed over the rails with a sudden
spring, and bounded into the timbers.

"`A varmint, massa!' repeated Abe, as he lifted the dog over, and
followed himself.

"I knew that in Abe's vocabulary--for that night at least--a `varmint'
meant a 'coon; and as we dashed through the brushwood, following the
dog, I felt all the excitement of a 'coon-chase.

"It was not a long one--I should think of about five minutes' duration;
at the end of which time the yelp of the dog which had hitherto guided
us, changed into a regular and continuous harking. On hearing this, Abe
quietly announced--

"`The varmint am treed.'

"Our only thought now was to get to the tree as speedily as possible,
but another thought entered our minds as we advanced; that was, what
sort of a tree had the 'coon taken shelter in?

"This was an important question, and its answer involved the success or
failure of our hunt. If a very large tree, we might whistle for the
'coon. Abe knew this well, and as we passed on, expressed his doubts
about the result.

"The bark of Pompo sounded some hundred yards off, in the very heaviest
of the bottom timber. It was not likely, therefore, that the 'coon had
taken to a small tree, while there were large ones near at hand. Our
only hope was that he had climbed one that was not `hollow.' In that
case we might still have a chance with the double-barrel and buck-shot.
Abe had but little hope.

"`He hab reach him own tree, massa; an' that am sartin to be a big un
wi' a hole near um top. Wagh! 'twar dat ar fence. But for de dratted
fence ole Pomp nebber let um reach um own tree. Wagh!'

"From this I learned that one point in the character of a good 'coon-dog
was speed. The 'coon runs well for a few hundred yards. He rarely
strays farther from his lair. If he can beat his pursuer for this
distance he is safe, as his retreat is always in a hollow tree of great
size. There is no way of getting at him there, except by felling the
tree, and this the most zealous 'coon-hunter would not think of
attempting. The labour of cutting down such a tree would be worth a
dozen 'coons. A swift dog, therefore, will overtake the raccoon, and
force him to the nearest tree--often a small one,