No trail lies before me in this inky dark timber. I sweep headlamp to and fro in search for a glimmering eye. Ahead a tricolor hound bawls savagely, raking claws in an effort to scale a cottonwood. I splash deep into the river—chest deep in the icy current. The December air rushes to meet my wet skin and the Carhartt canvas only does so much. I make it to the towering tree only to see the raccoon bound from limb to limb. The dog, experienced in this game, trots alongside the shrewd foe. 2 a.m. has never felt so exhilarating. A barred owl’s hooting is interrupted by the crack of a .22.
One pelt for the wall
Southern pleasure as men sleep—
baying in the night
(Photograph is used under Fair Use Law 17 U.S.C. § 107. I offer the following commentary on the photo. This is a classic photo of a beautiful Treeing Walker. The original content may be found at http://i33.tinypic.com/vijfrp.jpg).
