Rowdy has a pretty voice, a high-pitched chop that turns into a frantic, yodeling bawl when the coon goes to tree. "Kinda like a souped-up beagle," figures Ronnie Baker. He is layered in cotton duck, with his belt sagging from the weight of a headlamp battery pack, remote electronic collar controllers, a radio tracking system, and two knives. Baker turns his head at an angle to the sound, trying to glean the details from Rowdy's baying. "Tell me about it, Rowdy," he whispers. "Talk to me."

We're in a damp stretch of black-dark woods somewhere west of the Sinks of Bluewater, which is somewhere east of Muscle Shoals in that part of northern Alabama that lies between the Tennessee River and Tennessee proper. But where we are doesn't matter nearly so much as where we're going: straight to the dogs.

On a bitter February night with ground fog shrouding the woods, a foursome of Alabama coon hunters-Baker, Mark Carroll, Greg Johnston, and Kenny Holden-are here to loose the hounds and let 'em run. Coon hunting is experiencing a renaissance of sorts. A growing interest in competition coon hunting, in which dogs and handlers compete for titles or cash, has helped bring in a generation of younger hunters to this old-time staple of rural life.

But none of that matters at the moment. These hunters aren't here for points and prizes. Instead, they seek what remains the heart and soul of the sport: a small group of friends, a handful of hounds, and a dark night full of possibility. By now, Rowdy has changed his mind four times in the 15 minutes since Baker slipped him off his leash. He's ranged to the left, over and beyond a high ridge that turned his steady, trailing barks into barely audible pings, and then coursed far right through the cutover swamp and nearly out of hearing range. Now, his voice rolls through the woods like distant cannon fire. Rowdy has struck, and Ox and Buzz join in the chase. Their voices coalesce into a strident, ringing pinpoint of steady barks, an urgent, ancient rhythm that even a newcomer to coon hunting can interpret: It's time to go.