We had to get real quiet -- and stay that way -- for over twenty minutes before anything got brave enough to come out, again. But we did it. On account of we had figured out the wild things were way more afraid of us than we were of them. Besides that, we were up in a tree. So, even though we knew we didn't have any mountain lions in our area for the past hundred years (unless one escaped from the zoo-- yikes!), we put a lid on it and stayed quiet. Because we wanted to see what kind of wildlife lived out in our piece of the wilderness.
And -- sure, enough -- that thing came back, again.
My heart felt like it was gonna jump right out my throat, but I got hold of myself, and turned the flashlight on without dropping it in the water, this time. Which made me feel pretty silly when we finally saw what it was. A raccoon. Washing his dinner down at the creek. Can you believe that? We saw his bandit mask and everything. He looked right at our light for about three seconds and then high-tailed it back into the woods. Sort of a fast waddle. Which made me think animals must spend a whole lot of time worrying about survival, too. I actually thought he might mention to his family to stay away from the creek for the rest of the night, because there were human-type monsters down there right then. He could have, because we didn't see anymore raccoons. Which is why I asked Buddy's Uncle Joe if he ever heard of animals warning each other about dangerous people.
And -- man -- did he ever tell us a whopper of a story about that.
Which I am gonna tell you about right here on this blog over the next couple of days. And -- no -- I am not getting off the subject of campfires for this week. On account of every campfire has to have at least one good story to go along with it.
So, see you tomorrow.
W.K.
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