rage; and so brave a
front did they oppose to their enemies that for a few moments the dogs
were cautious in attack. Then the black and white mongrel sprang in;
and the big setter, realizing that these were no such antagonists as
their parents had been, followed, and was astonished to learn that he
could stand a bite from those sharp teeth and resist the impulse to
howl and run away. In less time than it takes to describe, one of the
raccoons was shaken to death in the setter's great jaws, and then the
other three scattered in flight.

One was overtaken in two seconds by the black and white mongrel, and
bitten through the back. The second ran past the farmer, and was
killed by a quick blow with his gun-barrel. The third, full of courage
and resource, flew straight at the setter's throat, and so alarmed him
that he jumped away. Then, seeing no tree within reach, and probably
realizing that there was no escape by any ordinary course, he fled
straight to the farmer.

The farmer, however, mistook this action for the ferocity of despair.
He struck out with his gun-barrel, missed his aim, swore
apprehensively, and caught the little animal a kick, which landed it
within a couple of yards of the spot where stood the young
schoolmaster, watching the scene with mingled interest and pity. His
sympathies now went out warmly to this brave and sole survivor of the
little people of the sycamore. His quick intuitions had understood the
appeal which had been so cruelly repulsed.

For a second the young raccoon stood still where he had fallen, and
his keen, dark eyes flashed a glance on each of his enemies in turn.
Both dogs were now rushing upon him. The ever-imminent doom of the
wild kindred was about to lay hold of him. He half-turned, as if to
die fighting, then changed his mind, darted to the feet of the young
schoolmaster, ran up his trouser-leg, and confidently took refuge
under his coat.

"Shake him off! Shake him off! A 'coon's bite is pizen!" shouted the
farmer, in great excitement.

"Not much!" said the young schoolmaster, with decision, gathering his
coat snugly around his panting guest. "This 'coon hunt's over. This
little chap's coming home to live with me!"

The farmer stared, and then laughed good-naturedly.

"Jest as you say," said he. "Recken ye've 'arned the right to have a
say in the matter. But ye'll find 'coons is mighty mischeevous 'round
a house. Fetch the karkisses, Jake. Reckon we've done pretty well fo