THE SCARCITY OF SKUNKS 87 



down this poignant message from the wood-lot. 

 The first spring skunk was out ! I knew the very 

 stump out of which he had come — the stump of 

 his winter den. Yes, and the day before, I had 

 actually met the creature in the woods, for he 

 had been abroad now something like a week. 

 He was rooting among the exposed leaves in a 

 sunny dip, and I approached to within five feet 

 of him, where I stood watching while he grubbed 

 in the thawing earth. Buried to the shoulders in 

 the leaves, he was so intent upon his labor that he 

 got no warning of my presence. My neighbors 

 would have knocked him over with a club, — 

 would have done it eagerly, piously, as unto the 

 Lord. What did the Almighty make such ver- 

 min for, anyway ? No one will phrase an answer; 

 but every one will act promptly, as by command 

 and revelation. 



I stood several minutes watching, before the 

 little wood-pussy paused and pulled out his 

 head in order to try the wind. How shocked he 

 was ! He had been caught off his guard, and in- 

 stantly snapped himself into a startled hump, for 

 the whiff he got on the wind said danger ! — and 

 nigh at hand ! Throwing his pointed nose straight 



