THE SCARCITY OF SKUNKS 89 



further to frighten the innocent creature. I had 

 met many a skunk before this, and nothing of 

 note ever had happened. Here was one, taken 

 suddenly and unawares, and what did he do? 

 He merely winked and blinked vacantly at me 

 over the snow, trying vainly to adjust his eyes to 

 the hard white daylight, and then timidly made 

 off as fast as his pathetic legs could carry him, 

 fetching a compass far around toward his den. 



I accompanied him, partly to see him safely 

 home, but more to study him on the way, for 

 my neighbors would demand something else 

 than theory and poetry of my new gospel : they 

 would require facts. Facts they should have. 



I had been a long time coming to my mind 

 concerning the skunk. I had been thinking years 

 about him; and during the previous summer 

 (my second here on the farm) I had made a care- 

 ful study of the creature's habits, so that even 

 now I had in hand material of considerable bulk 

 and importance, showing the very great useful- 

 ness of the animal. Indeed, I was about ready to 

 embody my beliefs and observations in a mono- 

 graph, setting forth the need of national protec- 

 tion — of a Committee of One Hundred, say, of 



