  The next day found the farm still rich with the bitter odor of musk. The Farmer’s brisk scrubbing in the waters of Goose Creek removed the worst of the scent from his own limbs, but plenty remained to keep him reminded of the night’s experience. So he and his hound went about with sore noses hating themselves and brooding over the mean treatment they thought they had received. Each vowed vengeance in his own way, but neither felt especially anxious to again meet the little wood pussy face to face. There was enough perfume around the farm already. It was all very well to get an occasional whiff of an odor so interestingly awful, but to have it follow them about everywhere and almost live with them, was quite another affair. On the second day, however, a strong breeze carried away much of the objectionable smell and Farmer Slown breathed easier. He even plucked up enough courage to hunt around his field and in the neighboring thickets for the wood pussy’s den, which he was shrewd enough to guess was nearby. The brush piles quickly caught his eye. He poked around the first one, then moved to the next and finally reached the very one under which slept the baby skunks and their mother. This one looked more promising than the others, so the Farmer got down on his hands and knees and cautiously—oh, exceedingly carefully—peered under the logs. Inside, the mother, hearing the heavy footsteps and the cracking of the brush, stood up in readiness to defend the little ones with her musk and with her own life if necessary. She made no sound, the young ones absorbing her fear, also keeping very still, waiting, as if knowing that terrible danger was near. And Farmer Slown looked and listened and sniffed but could discover nothing. He was not entirely satisfied, however, and so took the risk of moving closer. He was well within the wood pussy’s fatal aim, but still did not know it. Then he poked his red face so close to the ground that a low briar pricked his nose. With an exclamation he drew back only to find that another had caught his ear and become partly wound around his neck. At once his quick temper broke loose. Tearing himself free he kicked about him to destroy the offending bushes, and failing in this, strode away. Thus the meddlesome Farmer was saved from a much worse dose of musk than he received the first time. But more trouble was brewing; the man had made up his mind that the brush heaps were bad things to have near his fields, he had decided to burn them. That day, however, he did not have time, and on the next it rained, so the wood pussies lived on; and every day the little ones grew bigger and stronger. But while Farmer Slown did not find the little family, the nest was not hidden from the prying eyes and keen noses of the woodsfolk. Gray Fox, trotting by on the first night, had at once caught the faint scent of the baby skunks and turned to investigate. He had, however, found the mother on guard and so that time had passed on. Another who found the place was the mother mink with whom the wood pussy had already had trouble. As usual Mink was hungry; she had four little ones of her own in a burrow under a cedar whose roots dipped into Goose Creek. Therefore she sneaked under the woodpile and might have carried off one or all of the baby skunks if their mother had not returned suddenly and sprung upon her. Mink, knowing herself in the wrong, backed off snarling, then flashed out of the woodpile and away. Both she and Gray Fox, however, remembered that here was something young, helpless and good to eat. Sometime when they came in that direction the mother might not be near and then—but somehow the wise faithful mother seemed to know their designs and to try always to be on guard. However this was a very unprotected place for the little skunks and none felt it more than the mother. After Farmer Slown’s visit she became too uneasy to stay there any longer and thought only of making a move all the way back to the woodchuck’s deep burrow which had been her safe home all winter. Indeed, no sooner had night come again than she seized the nearest young one in her teeth and started out with it. This young one was not like the others. To begin with he was stouter. Then, too, instead of having a black and white back like his brothers and sisters he was pure black all over except where two narrow white stripes came from the top of his head down either side of his neck. This little fellow was also peculiar in his habits. Nearly all night, while the others nervously crawled about, he lay happily on his back or flat on his stomach resting. But no sooner would the mother return to feed them than he would hear or smell her and spring up so quickly that he would be eating with furious energy before the others knew quite what was happening. And so he got much food and rest and grew very fast. All over his body the fur was beginning to show. It was short, thick and soft. Now the mother, in her anxious state had started on an impossible task. The woodchuck’s burrow was much too far away to be reached in a night by a mother skunk with four youngsters that had to be carried one at a time. She had gone scarcely fifty yards with this one when her jaws and neck became very tired from lugging the fat, furry little fellow. He was slippery as well as heavy. Laying him down in the path, she rested, and at that moment caught a glimpse of Mink galloping through the woods towards the brush pile. The wood pussy looked after this ruthless enemy and started to follow, forgetting the baby at her feet until by luck she tripped over him. Instantly picking him up by the neck she hurried back towards the nest. She was not as swift as Mink, but fear for the other young ones spurred her on until it seemed as if the youngster in her mouth would nearly be torn to pieces by the bushes they sped through, or choked by her tight hold. Suddenly the brush pile was directly in front of them, and the mother slowed up as if afraid to face the sight she might find. In the next instant, however, she had rushed underneath, every hair on end, every nerve keyed for battle. But Mink was not there, she had returned in time! A noise at the entrance caught her ear. She whirled around only to find that the young one she had dropped there in coming in, had gotten back some of his breath and was crawling shakily to the nest. Quickly picking him up she placed him among the others and then sprawled herself over them, panting, almost exhausted but ready for Mink. And Mink came, smelled about outside, found to her surprise that the mother was again on guard and hastily bounded away to other hunting grounds. But for an hour or more the wood pussy stayed there resting and assuring herself through the feel of all those moving little bodies underneath her, that all were really safe. She had wisely given up the idea of moving them to the woodchuck burrow. When, later on hunger drove her forth, she chose another direction, and did not go further than the edge of the field where big, buzzing bugs were laying eggs in the grass, and where lizards often hid for the night. |
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