A little way down the shore, close to the water’s edge, something round and white caught the mink’s eye. Against the soft browns and dark greys of the wet soil, the object fairly shone in its whiteness, and seemed absurdly out of place. It was a hen’s egg, either dropped there by a careless hen from the pioneer’s cabin near by, or left by a musk-rat disturbed in his poaching. However it had got there, it was an egg; and the canoeists saw that they no longer held the mink’s undivided attention. Gently the steersman sheered out a few feet farther from 253 the bank, and at the same time checked the canoe’s headway. He wanted to see how the mink would manipulate the egg when he got to it.
The egg lay at the foot of a little path which led down the bushy bank to the water––a path evidently trodden by the pioneer’s cattle. Down this path, stepping daintily and turning his long inquisitive nose and big, bright, mischievous eyes from side to side, came a raccoon. He was a small raccoon, a little shorter than the mink, but looking heavier by reason of his more stocky build and bushier, looser fur. His purpose was to fish or hunt frogs in the pool at the foot of the path; but when he saw the egg gleaming through the misty air, his eyes sparkled with satisfaction. A long summer passed in proximity to the pioneer’s cabin had enabled him to find out that eggs were good. He hastened his steps, and with a sliding scramble, which attracted the attention of the men in the canoe, he arrived at the water’s edge. But to his indignant astonishment he was not the first to arrive.
The mink was just ahead. He reached the egg, laid one paw upon it in possession, and turned with a snarl of defiance as the raccoon came down the bank. The latter paused to note the threatening fangs and malign eyes of his slim rival. Then, with that brisk gaiety which the raccoon carries into the most serious affairs of his life, and particularly into 254 his battles, he ran to the encounter. The men in the canoe, eagerly interested, stole nearer to referee the match.
Quick as the raccoon was, his snake-like adversary was quicker. Doubling back upon himself, the mink avoided that confident and dangerous rush, and with a lightning snap fixed hold upon his enemy’s neck. But it was not, by half an inch, the hold he wanted; and his long, deadly teeth sank not, as he had planned, into the foe’s throat, but into the great tough muscles a little higher up. He dared not let go to try for the deadlier hold, but locked his jaws and whipped his long body over the other’s back, hoping to evade his antagonist’s teeth.
The raccoon had lost the first point, and his large eyes blazed with pain and anger. But his dauntless spirit was not in the least dismayed. Shaking the long, black body from his back, he swung himself half round and caught his enemy’s slim loins between his jaws. It was a cruelly punishing grip, and under the stress of it the mink lashed out so violently that the two, still holding on with locked jaws, rolled over into the water, smashing the egg as they fell. The canoe, now close beside them, they heeded not at all.
“Two to one on the mink!” whispered the traveller in the bow of the canoe, delightedly. But the steersman smiled, and said “Wait!”
To be in the water suited the mink well enough. A 255 hunter of fish in their holes, he was almost as much at home in the water as a fish. But the raccoon it did not suit at all. With a splutter he relinquished his hold on the mink’s loins; and the latter, perceiving the advantage, let go and snapped again for the throat. But again he miscalculated the alertness of the raccoon’s sturdy muscles. The latter had turned his head the instant that the mink’s jaws relaxed, and the two gnashed teeth in each other’s faces, neither securing a hold. The next moment the raccoon had leaped back to dry land, turning in threatening readiness as he did so.
Though there was no longer anything to fight about, the mink’s blood was up. His eyes glowed like red coals, his long, black shape looked very fit and dangerous, and his whole appearance was that of vindictive fury. The raccoon, on the other hand, though bedraggled from his ducking, maintained his gay, casual air, as if enjoying the whole affair too much to be thoroughly enraged. When the mink darted upon him, straight as a snake strikes, he met the attack with a curious little pirouette; and the next instant the two were once more locked in a death grapple.
It was some moments before the breathless watchers in the canoe could make out which was getting the advantage, so closely were the grey body and the black intertwined. Then it was seen that the raccoon was using his flexible, hand-like 256 paws as a bear might, to hold his foe down to the punishment. Both contestants were much cut, and bleeding freely; but the mink was now getting slow, while the raccoon was as cheerfully alert as ever. At length the mink tore loose and made one more desperate reach for his favourite throat-hold. But this time it was the raccoon who avoided. He danced aside, flashed back, and caught the mink fairly under the jaw. Then, bracing himself, he shook his foe as a terrier might. And in a minute or two the long, black shape straightened out limply amid the sand and dead leaves.
When the body was quite still the raccoon let go and stood over it expectantly for some minutes. He bit it several times, and seeing that this treatment elicited no retort, suffered himself to feel assured of his victory. Highly pleased, he skipped back and forth over the body, playfully seized it with his fore-paws, and bundled it up into a heap. Then seeming to remember the origin of the quarrel, he sniffed regretfully at the crumbled fragments of egg-shell. His expression of disappointment was so ludicrous that in spite of themselves the men in the canoe exploded with laughter.