April I have found the young of the previous year creeping about the
fields, so reduced by starvation as to be quite helpless, and offering
no resistance to my taking them up by the tail and carrying them home.

The old ones also become very much emaciated, and come boldly up to the
barn or other out-buildings in quest of food. I remember, one morning in
early spring, hearing old Cuff, the farm-dog, barking vociferously
before it was yet light. When we got up we discovered him at the foot of
an ash-tree, which stood about thirty rods from the house, looking up at
some gray object in the leafless branches, and by his manners and his
voice evincing great impatience that we were so tardy in coming to his
assistance. Arrived on the spot, we saw in the tree a coon of unusual
size. One bold climber proposed to go up and shake it down. This was
what old Cuff wanted, and he fairly bounded with delight as he saw his
young master shinning up the tree. Approaching within eight or ten feet
of the coon, the climber seized the branch to which it clung and shook
long and fiercely. But the coon was in no danger of losing its hold; and
when the climber paused to renew his hold it turned toward him with a
growl, and showed very clearly a purpose to advance to the attack. This
caused its pursuer to descend to the ground again with all speed. When
the coon was finally brought down with a gun, it fought the dog, which
was a large, powerful animal, with great fury, returning bite for bite
for some moments; and after a quarter of an hour had elapsed, and its
unequal antagonist had shaken it as a terrier does a rat, making his
teeth meet through the small of its back, the coon still showed fight.

The coon is very tenacious of life, and like the badger will always whip
a dog of its own size and weight. A woodchuck can bite severely, having
teeth that cut like chisels, but a coon has agility and power of limb as
well.

Coons are considered game only in the fall, or towards the close of
summer, when they become fat and their flesh sweet. At this time,
cooning is a famous pastime in the remote interior. As these animals are
entirely nocturnal in their habits, they are hunted only at night. A
piece of corn on some remote side-hill near the mountain, or between two
pieces of woods, is most apt to be frequented by them. While the corn is
yet green they pull the ears down like hogs, and, tearing open the
sheathing of husks, eat the tender, succulen