“Where did he come from, Toiney? Do you suppose he strayed from the coon’s hole that you found in the woods, among some ledges near Big Swamp?” Colin, together with the other boys, was stooping down to examine the dead body of the wild animal which measured nearly a foot and a half from the tip of its sharp nose to the beginning of the bushy tail that was handsomely ringed with black and a shading buff-color.
“Yaas, he’ll com’ out f’om de forêt—f’om among heem beeg tree.” Toiney Leduc, letting his axe fall to the ground, waved an eloquent right arm in its flannel shirt-sleeve toward the woods beyond the clearing.
“Isn’t his fur long and thick—more like coarse gray hair than fur?” Nixon stroked the raccoon’s shaggy coat.
“Tell us how to find those ledges where the hole is? There may be some live ones in it. I’d give anything to see a live coon,” urged Coombsie.
“Ah! la! la! You no fin’ dat ledge en dat swamp. Eet’s littal black in dere, in gran’ forêt—in dem big ole hood,” came the dissuading answer.
“He always says ‘hood’ for ‘wood,’” explained Marcoo sotto voce.
“Ciel! w’en you go for fin’ dat hole, dat’s de time you get los’—engh?” urged Toiney, suddenly very earnest. “You walkee, walkee—lak wit’ eye shut—den you haf so tire’ en so lonesam’ you go—deaded.”
He flung out his hands with an eloquent gesture of blind despair upon the last word, which shot a warning thrill to the boys’ hearts. Three of them looked rather apprehensively toward the dense woods that stretched away interminably beyond the clearing.
But the fourth, Leon, was not to be intimidated by anything short of Toiney brandishing the woodchopper’s axe.