"There is! There is! I see the end of a big, bushy tail. It isn't a squirrel's tail either!" returned the scout in a fever of mystification. "Let's go softly, so that we won't frighten the thing whatever it is--then we can have a good look at it!" "Suppose it should be a wildcat, then we'd 'scat'!" gasped Colin, feeling his wildest hopes and tremors fulfilled. "I see its nose--a black nose--over the edge of the hollow! It's like--Gee! it can't be another coon from the swamp--like the dead one that Toiney found in the hencoop?" Simultaneously the terrier, Blink, was launching himself like a white arrow toward the spreading nut-tree, which stood upon a grassy knoll, while the woods rang with his fusillade of barking. And from the hollow in the tree came a shrill whimpering cry, remarkably like that of a small and frightened child. Starrie Chase fairly gambolled with excitement: "That's where you're right, Col," he panted. "If it isn't a coon--another young coon--I'm a Dutchman! I hunted one in the woods, by night, with my brother, last year!" "He keeps on singing," breathed Coombsie. "Isn't his cry like a two-year-old child's?" "Oh! if we only had my brother's coon dog here--and could get him down from the tree--the dog might finish him!" Leon seemed emitting sparks of excitement from his pointed elbows and other quivering joints. "Go for him, Blink!" he raved, hardly knowing what he said. "You're not afraid of anything--you feel like a mastiff! Oh! we _must_ get him out of that tree-hollow on to the ground." "Caw! Caw!... Caw!... Quock! Quock!" At the approach of the boys and dog the crows set up a wilder din, describing broader circles round the tree or fluttering upward to its loftier branches. Again came that petulant whimpering cry from the hollow of the chestnut, where a young raccoon (probably brother to the intruder which had made a short bee-line through the woods, guided by instinct and its nose, to Toiney's hencoop) now wailed and quailed, finding himself between two sets of enemies: the barking dog and excited boys below, the pestering crows above. Abandoning the wise nocturnal habits of his forefathers, with the rashness of youth, he too had strayed at sunrise from that secluded hole among the ledges on the borders of Big Swamp, filled with dreams of juicy cornfields and other delicacies. Not readily finding such a land of milk and honey, he climbed into the hollow of this chestnut tree, flanked by a young ash upon the knoll, and there composed himself to sleep. But thither the crows, flocking, found him; and recognizing in him an hereditary enemy of their eggs and nestlings, set to work to make his life a burden. Nevertheless Raccoon Junior preferred their society to that of the boys and dog which instinct warned him to dread above all other foes.