the fight.

Whirling round and round, now under, now over, dog and coon rolled
presently forth from the bushes, nearer to the feet of the spectators.
Then Neal and Dol could get a clearer view of the strange animal. A
breeze of exclamations came from them, mingling with the yelping,
snarling, and clucking of the combatants.

"Good gracious! Look at the stout body and funny little legs of the
fellow!"

"Doesn't he fight like a spitfire?"

"I'm glad he's not clawing me!"

"He's not much like any picture of a raccoon I ever saw in a Natural
History!"

"I guess he wouldn't resemble them greatly, especially in that attitude,
Dol," said Cyrus, as soon as there was a lull in the boys' comments.

The raccoon had now rolled on his back, and was fighting so fiercely
with teeth and claws that a despairing cry broke from Uncle Eb,--

"Yah! He's makin' Tiger's wool fly!"

It was then that the old guide began to deliberate about rushing forward
and despatching his coonship with the butt end of his rifle. Cyrus would
gladly have stopped the tussle long before, for there was too much
savagery about it to suit him; but he could only have done so by