As his foemen entered he turned on them a
hideous visage of inexpressible fear and hate, rage and horror.
His eyes glanced back green fire in the lantern light; he
strained in renewed efforts to escape; the air was rank with his
musky smell. The impotent fury of his struggle made a picture
that continued in Rolf's mind. Quonab took a stick and with a
single blow put an end to the scene, but never did Rolf forget
it, and never afterward was he a willing partner when the
trapping was done with those relentless jaws of steel.
A week later another hen was missing, and the door of the hen
house left open. After a careful examination of the dust, inside
and out of the building, Quonab said, "Coon." It is very unusual
for coons to raid a hen house. Usually it is some individual with
abnormal tastes, and once he begins, he is sure to come back.
The Indian judged that he might be back the next night, so
prepared a trap. A rope was passed from the door latch to a
tree; on this rope a weight was hung, so that the door was
selfshutting, and to make it self-locking he leaned a long pole
against it inside. Now he propped it open with a single
platform, so set that the coon must walk on it once he was
inside, and so release the door.
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