Part 25 (1/2)

They were well provided with fat pine torches and armed with axes. Bim was full of eager excitement, and dashed away into the darkness the moment they set foot on sh.o.r.e. His incessant barking showed him to be first on this side and then on that, while once in a while they caught a glimpse of his white form glancing across the outer rim of their circle of torchlight.

”Isn't he hunting splendidly?” cried Billy Brackett, with enthusiasm.

”Yes, sah,” replied Solon; ”but him huntin' too loud. We ain't gettin'

to de place yet, an' ef he don' quit he barkin', him skeer off all de 'c.o.o.n in de State.”

So Bim was called in, and restrained with a bit of rope until a corn-field was reached that Solon p.r.o.nounced the right kind of a place from which to make a start. Then the eager dog was again set free, and in less than a minute was heard giving utterance to the peculiar yelping note that announced his game as ”treed.”

”What did I tell you?” shouted Billy Brackett, triumphantly, as he started on a run for the point from which the sounds proceeded. ”How's that for--” but at that instant the speaker tripped over a root, and measured his length on the ground with a crash that knocked both breath and powers of speech from his body. The others were so close behind that they fell on top of him like a row of bricks, and in the resulting confusion their torch was extinguished.

Hastily picking themselves up, and without pausing to relight the pine splinters, they rushed pell-mell towards the sound of barking, b.u.mping into trees, stumbling over logs, scratching their faces and tearing their clothes on th.o.r.n.y vines. But no one minded. Bim had treed a 'c.o.o.n in the shortest time on record, and now if they could only get it, the triumph would be ample reward for all their trials.

Finally, bruised, battered, and ragged, they reached the tree which Bim, with wild leapings, was endeavoring to climb. Their first move was to illumine the scene with a huge bonfire. By its light they proceeded to a closer examination of the situation. The tree was a huge moss-hung water-oak, evidently too large to be chopped down, as all the 'c.o.o.n trees of Solon's stories had been. So Winn offered to climb it and shake out the 'c.o.o.n. As yet they had not discovered the animal, but Bim was so confident of its presence that they took his word for it.

Solon had raised a false alarm as the first gleam of firelight penetrated the dark ma.s.s of foliage above them by exclaiming:

”Dar he! Me see um! Lookee, Ma.r.s.e Brack, in dat ar crutch!”

But what the old negro saw proved to be a bunch of mistletoe, and when Winn began his climb the 'c.o.o.n's place of concealment was still unknown. Up went the boy higher and higher, carefully examining each limb as he pa.s.sed it, until he was among the very topmost branches of the tree. The others stood on opposite sides of the trunk, with axes or clubs uplifted, and gazed anxiously upward until their necks ached.

At length Winn became aware that from the outermost end of a slender branch just above his head a pair of green eyes were glaring at him.

The glare was accompanied by an angry spitting sound. ”I've found him, fellows! Look out below!” he shouted, and began a vigorous shaking of the branch. All at once the animal uttered a sound that caused a sudden cessation of his efforts. It also caused Winn to produce a match from his pocket, light it, and hold the tiny flame high above his head. Then, without a word, he began to descend the tree.

As he dropped to the ground the others exclaimed in amazement, ”What's the matter, Winn? Where's the 'c.o.o.n? Why didn't you shake him down?”

”He's up there,” replied Winn, ”but I don't want him. If any of you do, you'd better go up and shake him down. I'd advise you to take a torch along, though.”

Not another word of explanation would he give them, and finally Binney Gibbs, greatly provoked at the other's stubbornness, declared he would go up and shake that 'c.o.o.n down--in a hurry, too. He so far accepted Winn's advice as to provide himself with a blazing knot, and then up he started. In a few minutes he too returned to the ground, saying that he guessed Winn was about right, and they didn't want that 'c.o.o.n after all.

”What in the name of all foolishness do you mean?” cried Billy Brackett, impatiently. ”Speak out, man, and tell us, can't you?”

But Binney acted precisely as Winn had done, and advised any one who wanted that 'c.o.o.n to go and get it.

”Well, I will!” exclaimed the young engineer, almost angrily; ”and I only hope I can manage to drop him on top of one of your heads.”

With this he started up the tree, and disappeared among its thick brandies. He quickly made his way to the top. Then the rustling of leaves ceased, there was a moment of silence, followed by a muttered exclamation, and Billy Brackett came hastily down to where the others were expectantly awaiting him.

”Let's go home, boys,” he said, as he picked up his axe and started in the direction of the river. ”Come, Bim; your reputation as a 'c.o.o.n dog is so well established that there is no need to test it any further.”

Poor Solon, who was too old and stiff to climb the tree, was completely mystified by these strange proceedings; but his expostulation of,

”Wha--wha's de meanin' ob dish yer--!” was cut short by the departure of his companions, and he was obliged to hasten after them.

A few minutes after the 'c.o.o.n hunters had gone a big boy, and a little girl with a tear-stained face, who had come from a house just beyond the corn-field, reached the spot, to which they had been attracted by the firelight. As they did so, the child uttered a cry of joy, sprang to the water-oak, and caught up a frightened-looking little black and white kitten that was cautiously descending the big trunk backward.

To this day the outcome of that 'c.o.o.n hunt remains a sealed mystery to poor Solon, while Bim has never been invited to go on another.

CHAPTER x.x.xVIII.