VIII THE SKUNK, CALMLY CONSIDERED 241 
drop falling upon its own fur. Sometimes the 
wind blows the liquid back; but the animal never 
soils itself or its companions or its bed if it can 
avoid it. A skunk’s den is as nearly odorless as 
is that of any wild musteline animal. Moreover, 
it seems to regard the secretion as exceedingly 
precious, and not to be used except as a very last 
resort. Many a dog gets a good grip before the 
emission occurs, and under those circumstances 
it is likely to be quite wasted. “When caught in 
steel traps,” says Merriam, “not more than one in 
twenty will smell, and the remaining nineteen 
suffer themselves to be tormented to an astonish- 
ing degree before ‘opening the valve.’” Men 
who make a business of trapping and breeding 
skunks seem to have little fear of them so long 
as they approach them quietly and handle them 
gently, and they know many ways of putting them 
to death without causing a discharge. 
It seems to me, therefore, that as a weapon of 
defence the discharge of the skunk is not as 
unfailing and complete as has been supposed; 
that as many active enemies seek to kill the 
animal, and probably succeed in killing it, as if it 
did not have such a weapon; that, on the other 
hand, it sometimes serves as an advertisement of 
its presence and leads to its discovery by enemies 
that might otherwise overlook it; that in resisting 
the tactics of certain antagonists this ‘weapon ” 
is, as a rule, practically useless, since they keep 
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