"The opossum can hardly be classed among the game animals of America, yet its pursuit in the South in old plantation days used to afford the staple amusement for the dusky toilers of the cotton states. It was the custom in ante-bellum times, as often as the revolving year brought round the late fall days with their ripened fruit and golden grain, for the dark population of the plantation, occasionally accompanied by young 'massa,' to have a grand 'possum hunt _a la mode_. This custom, through desuetude, and change of circumstances, has been well-nigh consigned to oblivion. "Its food, upon which it becomes fat and toothsome to the dusky palate, is persimmons and wild grapes, together with the various berries and fruits that abound in the Southern states. After the first hoar frost has whitened the hills the 'possum is most eagerly sought for by Cæsar, Pluto and Mars. At night the darkies start forth _en masse_, armed to the teeth with every available weapon, and accompanied by a number of nondescript dogs, generally well trained for 'possum or coon hunting. "These dogs have some hound blood in their composition, and understand the requirements of the occasion perfectly. Some ancient shade of Dis with snowy hair is selected as leader, and he controls the dogs and manipulates the horn. The favorite haunts of the "varmint" are familiar to the negroes, and the "meet" is generally held on the borders of the swamp, where persimmons abound, or, if the moon shine too brightly for the game to venture far from cover, in the darker vales where the luscious grapes run wild and plenty. "The dogs range far from the party, and the moment one of them strikes the "trail ob an ole 'possum" he gives the signal note to the expectant party by a short yelp. This sets the sable hunters wild with excitement; they listen for the second sound, sure to come, which will betoken that the varmint is treed. They are not long kept in suspense, for faint, away down in the valley, comes the joyful bay, and at the signal the whole party stampede, spite of all 'ole uncle Cæsar's' attempts to restrain them, and rush pellmell through bush and brake in the direction of the sound. They arrive panting and breathless from the wild race, in twos and threes, and are soon all assembled at the foot of a small sapling, in the branches of which the 'possum has taken temporary refuge from his pursuers. "Soon a nimble young buck shins the tree, and the marsupial is shaken off after some difficulty, for he clings with the utmost tenacity to the limb, using the tail not the least in this battle for freedom. The anxious dogs below await his fall, and his death is compassed in less time than it takes to tell it. This is the only method employed in the capture of the opossum, and this is rapidly becoming traditional."