Read Online Where the Red Fern Grows by Wilson Rawls - Free Book Online

OF A YOUNG BOY never cease. Now that I had my pups another obstacle had cropped up. This one looked absolutely impossible. I had to have a coonskin so I could train them.
        With my three little traps and a bulldogged determination, I set out to trap Mister Ringtail. For three solid weeks I practically lived on the river. I tried every trick I knew. It was no use. I just couldn't catch the wiley old coons.
        In desperation I went to my grandfather. He smiled as he listened to my tale of woe. "Well, we'll have to do something about that," he said. "To train those dogs right, you'll need that coon hide, that's for sure. Now you watch the store while I go over to my tool shed. I'll be right back."
        After what seemed like an eternity I saw him coming. He was carrying a brace and bit, that was all.
        With a mischievous little smile on his face, he said, "You wouldn't think a fellow could catch a coon with this brace and bit, would you?"
        I thought he was kidding me and it made me feel bad. "Why, Grandpa," I said, "you couldn't catch a  coon in a jillion years with that thing. You just don't have any idea how smart they are."
        "Yes, you can," he said. "You bet your boots you can. Why, when I was a boy I caught coons on top of coons with one of these things."
        I saw Grandpa was serious and I got interested.
        He laid the brace down on the counter, picked up a small paper sack, and filled it about half-full of horseshoe nails,
        "Now you do everything exactly as I tell you," he said, "and you'll catch that coon."
        "Yes, sir, Grandpa," I said, "I will. I'll do anything to catch one of them."
        "Now the first thing you'll need is some bright objects," he said. "The best thing is bright shiny tin. Cut out some little round pieces, a little smaller than this bit. Do you understand?"
        I nodded my head.
        "Now," he said, "you go down along the river where there are a lot of coon tracks. Find a good solid log close by and bore a hole down about six inches. Drop one of the bright pieces of tin down in the hole, and be sure it's laying right on the bottom."
        I was all ears. I didn't want to miss one word my grandfather said. Now and then I would glance at him to see if he was kidding me.
        In a serious voice, he went on talking. "Now pay close attention," he said, "because this is the main part of the trap."
        With eyes as big as a hoot owl's, I looked and listened.
        He took four of the horseshoe nails from the sack. With the thumb and forefinger of his left hand he made a small "o" about the size of the bit, which was an inch and half in diameter.
        "Now, we'll say this is the hole you bored in the log," he said. "About,an inch apart, drive these nails in on a slant opposite each other."
        Holding one of the nails in his right hand, he showed me the right angle.
        "The ends of the nails will enter the hole about halfway between the top and the piece of tin," he continued. "Leave an opening between the sharp points big enough for a coon to get his paw through."
        He asked me if I understood.
        Again I nodded my head and moved a little closer to him.
        "How is that going to catch a coon, Grandpa?" I asked.
        "It'll catch him all right," he said, "and it won't fail. You see a coon is a curious little animal. Anything that is bright and shiny attracts him. He will reach in and pick it up. When his paw closes on the bright object it balls up, and when he starts to pull it from the hole, the sharp ends of the nails will gouge into his paw and he*s caught."
        He looked over at me.
        "Well, what do you think of it?" he asked.
        I closed my eyes and in my mind I could see the funnel-like entrance of the hole, and the sharp slanting points of the nails. I could see the coon reaching in for the shiny piece of metal. Naturally his paw would be much larger when