But the raccoon had by this time reached a dark stream of water which coursed through the over-arching forest at the foot of the hill, as if it was flowing through a tunnel.  Here this astute animal crossed and recrossed under the gloom of interlocking trees, mid dense undergrowth, until its trail was altogether lost.

Tiger, having further “fits,” nosing about, darting hither and thither, venting short, baffled barks, finally gave up in despair.

The pursuing party turned back to camp.

“Did ye ever see ennyting to ekal de cunnin’ o’ de critter,” said Uncle Eb gloomily; “runnin’ up dat tree on’y to jump off, so as he’d break de scent an’ fool de dog?  Ye’ll learn a heap o’ queer tings in dese woods, chillun, ’fore ye get t’rough,” he added, addressing the English lads.

“We’ve learned queerer things than we ever imagined or dreamed of, already, Uncle Eb,” Neal answered.

Meanwhile, Cyrus and Dol had begun to discuss the size of the escaped coon.

“I should think it measured about two feet from the tip of its nose to the beginning of the tail, and that would add ten or eleven inches.  Probably it weighed over thirty pounds,” said the experienced Garst.

“A fine tail it had too!” answered Dol; “all ringed with black and buff—­not black and white as the books say.  There was hardly an inch of white about the animal anywhere.  Its thick gray hair was marked here and there with black; wasn’t it, Cy?”

“Rather with a darker shade of gray, bordering on black.  I think old Tiger can testify that the creature had capable teeth; and it possesses a goodly number of them—­forty in all; that’s only two less than a bear, an animal that might make six of it in size.”

“Whew!  No wonder it’s a good fighter!” ejaculated Dol.

“But the funniest of the coon’s or—­to give the animal its proper name—­the raccoon’s funny habits is, that while it eats anything and everything, it souses all meat in water before beginning a feed.  That’s what it would have done with our bit of pork,—­dragged it to a stream, and washed it well before swallowing a morsel.

“I caught glimpses of a raccoon chasing a jack-rabbit in this very section of the woods, last year,” went on the student, seeing that Dol was breathlessly listening.  “The big animal killed the little one under a dead limb; and I traced its tracks through some mud, where it tugged the rabbit to the brink of the nearest brook to be dipped and devoured.

“After the meal, Mr. Coon halted on an old bit of stump as gray as himself, close to where I lay under cover, trying to get a peep at his operations, but, unluckily, in my excitement I touched a bush, and broke a twig not as big as my little finger.  I tell you he just jumped off that stump as if it scorched him, and disappeared.”

“What about that tame coon you owned, Cy?” Dol asked.  “You haven’t got him now.”