The raccoon is a tree-climber of the first quality. It climbs with its sharp-curved claws, not by hugging, as is the case with the bear tribe. Its lair, or place of retreat, is in a tree—some hollow, with its entrance high up. Such trees are common in the great primeval forests of America. In this tree-cave it has its nest, where the female brings forth three, four, five, or six “cubs” at a birth. This takes place in early spring—usually the first week in April.
The raccoon is a creature of the woods. On the prairies and in treeless regions it is not known. It prefers heavy “timber,” where there are huge logs and hollow trees in plenty. It requires the neighbourhood of water, and in connection with this may be mentioned a curious habit it has, that of plunging all its food into the water before devouring it. It will be remembered that the otter has a similar habit. It is from this peculiarity that the raccoon derives its specific name of Lotor (washer). It does not always moisten its morsel thus, but pretty generally. It is fond, moreover, of frequent ablutions, and no animal is more clean and tidy in its habits.
The raccoon is almost omnivorous. It eats poultry or wild fowls. It devours frogs, lizards, lame, and insects without distinction. It is fond of sweets, and is very destructive to the sugar-cane and Indian corn of the planter. When the ear of the maize is young, or, as it is termed, “in the milk,” it is very sweet. Then the raccoon loves to prey upon it. Whole troops at night visit the corn-fields and commit extensive havoc. These mischievous habits make the creature many enemies, and in fact it has but few friends. It kills hares, rabbits, and squirrels when it can catch them, and will rob a bird’s nest in the most ruthless manner. It is particularly fond of shell-fish; and the unios, with which many of the fresh-water lakes and rivers of America abound, form part of its food. These it opens as adroitly with its claws as an oyster-man could with his knife. It is partial to the “soft-shell” crabs and small tortoises common in the American waters.
Jake told us of a trick which the ’coon puts in practice for catching the small turtles of the creek. We were not inclined to give credence to the story, but Jake almost swore to it. It is certainly curious if true, but it smacks very much of Buffon. It may be remarked, however, that the knowledge which the plantation negroes have of the habits of the raccoon surpasses that of any mere naturalist. Jake boldly declares that the ’coon fishes for turtles! that it squats upon the bank of the stream, allowing its bushy tail to hang over into the water; that the turtles swimming about in search of food or amusement, spies the hairy appendage and lays hold of it; and that the ’coon, feeling the nibble, suddenly draws the testaceous swimmer upon dry land, and then “cleans out de shell” at his leisure!
The ’coon is often domesticated in America. It is harmless as a dog or cat except when crossed by children, when it will snarl, snap, and bite like the most crabbed cur. It is troublesome, however, where poultry is kept, and this prevents its being much of a favourite. Indeed, it is not one, for it is hunted everywhere, and killed—wherever this can be done—on sight.
There is a curious connection between the negro and the raccoon. It is not a tie of sympathy, but a kind of antagonism. The ’coon, as already observed, is the negro’s legitimate game. ’Coon-hunting is peculiarly a negro sport. The negro is the ’coon’s mortal enemy. He kills the ’coon when and wherever he can, and cats it too. He loves its “meat,” which is pork-tasted, and in young ’coons palatable enough, but in old ones rather rank. This, however, our “darkie” friend does not much mind, particularly if his master be a “stingy old boss,” and keeps him on rice instead of meat rations. The negro, moreover, makes an odd “bit” (twelve and a half cents) by the skin, which he disposes of to the neighbouring “storekeeper.”
The ’coon-hunt is a “nocturnal” sport, and therefore does not interfere with the negro’s regular labour. By right the night belongs to him, and he may then dispose of his time as he pleases, which he often does in this very way.
The negro is not, allowed to carry fire-arms, and for this reason the squirrel may perch upon a high limb, jerk its tail about and defy him; the hare may run swiftly away, and the wild turkey may tantalise him with its incessant “gobbling.” But the ’coon can be killed without fire-arms. The ’coon can be overtaken and “treed.” The negro is not denied the use of an axe, and no man knows better how to handle it than he. The ’coon, therefore, is his natural game, and much sport does he have in its pursuit. Nearly the same may be said of the opossum (Didelphis Virginiana); but the “’possum” is more rare, and it is not our intention now to describe that very curious creature. From both ’coon and ’possum does the poor negro derive infinite sport—many a sweet excitement that cheers his long winter nights, and chequers with brighter spots the dull and darksome monotony of his slave-life. I have often thought what a pity it would be if the ’coon and the opossum should be extirpated before slavery itself became extinct. I had often shared in this peculiar sport of the negro, and joined in a real ’coon-chase, but the most exciting of all was the first in which I had been engaged, and I proffered my comrades an account of it.