THE NIGHT WE BAGGED OLD FOXIE
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THE NIGHT WE BAGGED OLD FOXIE

THE NIGHT WE BAGGED OLD FOXIE




      

THE NIGHT WE BAGGED OLD FOXIE


THE NIGHT WE BAGGED OLD FOXIE

It was the 21st of November; I was sitting by the stove in my home reading Fur News, when I heard a well-known whistle. I soon gave the answer and in came my partner, Roy Ritter, all rigged out for a hunt. I said to him, "I'm glad you came, as I did not want to miss this night. I think this is the night we bag Old Foxie;" and Roy said, "If we do bag him we will be doing a good night's work."

Old Foxie, as we called him, was an old raccoon that had put it over on us several times, and we were just crazy to put one over on him. Well, I got ready and called old Boss and we started. Roy told Boss if he treed Old Foxie he would buy him a big pudding. The dog barked just as though he understood what Roy said. We walked about three miles, when Boss barked treed. When we got to him he was barking up a big chestnut tree. I gave Roy the light and he tried for a shine. He could not get one; he told me to try. As I walked around the tree I got the shine. I told Roy to shoot him, as I thought it might be the big one. Roy shot four times and did not bring him down. He said, "It seems that I cannot do anything to-night; you try. I fired twice and down he came and started down the hill. I called the dog; as he was not there, I ran down the hill and kicked the 'coon up the hill. I saw that it had one leg broken. By that time Boss came in and he soon had the 'coon down and out. It was a bitch 'coon and it was not old Foxie.

We started down the creek. We walked about a mile, when we heard old Boss barking ahead. We started down the creek and found that the dog was across the creek; but luckily for us there was a cable bridge where we had to hold on to one wire and walk on the other. We got about half way across, when splash, in the creek went Mr. 'Coon. The dog started after him. I called to the dog to keep out of the water, as I had to wade in once and help a dog when the water was anything btit boiling hot and I don't approve of it. We got across and I started after the dog, calling to him to keep out of the water. The 'coon was swimming about eight feet from shore. As I ran I picked up a club; I knew that there was a den tree right below and I wanted to get there before him.

We arrived at the den tree about the same time; I could not use the club, as I might his the dog; but he was game and he came in for the tree, which stood about four feet away from the creek. The dog could not wait for him land; he jumped in the water after him. Tit water was about eight inches deep and boots on I went in to. The 'coon started for the other shore. I called to Roy to flash the light on him. The dog got him; the 'coon tried to get on the dog's back, but the dog was to smart for that. He was there before. I could see that he was a big fellow and Roy said h: was sure it was Old Foxie and this was our chance. I tried to get hold of his tail; but he would turn on me as quick as lightning. The dog would get a hold on him; but he could not hold it. All this time we were moving slowly down the creek. The first thing I knew I stepped into a hole and went down up to my waist. I forgot the 'coon for a minute; but I had just as soon forgot the water. We got on a big flat rock in the water, where the water was not over three inches deep.

The 'coon jumped for the shore. Roy kicked him back in the water; old Boss got him again; the 'coon got away from Boss; he jumped for the shore. I told Roy to let him come out, as the dog was so close to him we could not get a chance to hit him. When he got on land he started for a tree. Roy kicked him away from the tree; old Boss was right on him and how they did fight. I tried to help the dog; but he growled at me as much as saying, "This is my fight; keep out." I let them fight it out; they fought for twenty minutes and Roy said we had better take a hand in it, as I might take a cold standing there all wet. But I did not mind the cold at that time. We started to help Boss, but he growled. Just then Boss gave an awful shake; the 'coon started to cry; then another shake and we saw that Boss had him pinned to the ground and all was still. Old Boss looked up at me and wagged his tail as much as to say, "I told you I could do it." I picked up the 'coon and he was a big one. Roy said he would weigh thirty pounds. I started to get cold and we went home. I weighed him and he was twenty-eight pounds strong, which is a big one for these parts.

C. A. P. Forrest.

Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.

Fur, News. Fur News, January 1916.

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