THE SNOW-WALKERS 59 



before he can get into his hole if you can. You 

 hurl a stone at him, and "No you didn't!" comes 

 up from the depth of his retreat. 



In February another track appears upon the 

 snow, slender and delicate, about a third larger than 

 that of the gray squirrel, indicating no haste or 

 speed, but, on the contrary, denoting the most im- 

 perturbable ease and leisure, the footprints so close 

 together that the trail appears like a chain of curi- 

 ously carved links. Sir Mephitis mephitica, or, 

 in plain English, the skunk, has woke up from his 

 six weeks' nap, and come out into society again. 

 He is a nocturnal traveler, very bold and impudent, 

 coming quite up to the barn and outbuildings, and 

 sometimes taking up his quarters for the season un- 

 der the haymow. There is no such word as hurry 

 in his dictionary, as you may see by his path upon 

 the snow. He has a very sneaking, insinuating 

 way, and goes creeping about the fields and woods, 

 never once in a perceptible degree altering his gait, 

 and, if a fence crosses his course, steers for a break 

 or opening to avoid climbing. He is too indolent 

 even to dig his own hole, but appropriates that of 

 a woodchuck, or hunts out a crevice in the rocks, 

 from which he extends his rambling in all direc- 

 tions, preferring damp, thawy weather. He has 

 very little discretion or cunning, and holds a trap 

 in utter contempt, stepping into it as soon as beside 

 it, relying implicitly for defense against all forms of 

 danger upon the unsavory punishment he is capable 

 of inflicting. He is quite indifferent to both man 



