rock. It rolled and down he went.
As the cold river water touched his body, he let out a yell that could have been heard for miles. He looked so funny we couldn't keep from laughing.
Papa and the judge helped him to his feet. Laughing every step of the way, we finally reached the other side. Grandpa kept going in his wet clothes until we reached the tree where the dogs were.
After killing the coon, we built a large fire so Grandpa could dry his clothes. He'd get up as close to the fire as he could, and turn this way and that. He looked so funny standing there with his long underwear steaming. I started rolling with laughter.
He looked over at me and snapped, 'What's so funny?'
I said, 'Nothing.'
'Well, why are you laughing?' he said.
At this remark, Papa and the judge laughed until their eyes watered.
Mumbling and grumbling, Grandpa said, 'If you fellows were as cold as I am, you wouldn't be laughing.'
We knew we shouldn't be laughing, but we couldn't help ourselves.
The judge looked at his watch. 'It's after three o'clock,' he said. 'Do you think they'll tree another one?'
As if to throw the words back in the judge's face, Old Dan opened up. I stood up and whooped. 'Whoo-e-e! Get him, Dan! Get him! Put him up a little tree.'
There was a mad scramble. Grandpa tried to put his britches on backwards. The judge and Papa ran over to help him with his shoes. Each one tried to put a shoe on the wrong foot. I was laughing so hard I could do nothing.
A hundred yards from the fire, I realized we had forgotten the coonskins. I ran back for them.
My dogs had jumped the coon in swampland. He tore out for the river bottoms. I could tell they were close to him by their fast bawling. All at once their baying stopped. We stood still and listened. Old Dan bawled treed a few more times and then stopped.
Grandpa asked, 'What's happened?'
I told him the coon had probably pulled some kind of trick.
Coming up to my dogs, we saw they were working up and down an old rail fence. We stood and watched. Every now and then, Old Dan would rear up on a large hackberry tree that was standing about seven feet from the fence and bawl treed.
As yet Little Ann had not bawled the tree bark. We watched her. She was working everywhere. She climbed up on the rail fence and followed its zigzag course until she disappeared in the darkness.
I told Papa I was sure the coon had walked the rail fence and in some way had fooled my dogs.
Old Dan would keep coming back to the hack-berry tree. He would rear up on it and bawl treed. We walked up to him. Looking the tree over, we could see that the coon wasn't in it.
The judge said, 'It looks like he has them fooled.'
'Maybe you had better call them off,' Grandpa said. 'We can go someplace else and hunt. We've got to get one more coon, even if I have to tree it myself.'
For some reason, no one laughed at his remark.
'It's almost daylight,' Papa said.
'Yes, that's what has me worried,' I said. 'We don't have time to do any more hunting. If we lose this one, we're beat.'
Hearing the word beat, Grandpa began to fidget. He asked me, 'What do you think happened? How did that coon fool them?'
'I don't know for sure,' I said. 'He walked that rail fence. The hackberry tree has something to do with his trick, but I don't know what.'
