EVERYDAY ADVENTURES 5 
now tenanted by a fat woodchuck, who would never 
have ventured near the den if the owners had not left 
it. Mrs. Fox had evidently feared the worst from my 
visit, and in the night had moved her whole family 
to some better-hidden home. This was three years 
ago, and, although I visit the place every winter, no 
tell-tale tracks ever show that she has moved back. 
It is not necessary to go to the forest for adven- 
tures: they lie in wait for us at our very doors. My 
home is in a built-up suburb of a large city, appar- 
ently hopelessly civilized. The other morning I 
was out early for some before-breakfast chopping, 
the best of all setting-up exercises. As I turned the 
corner of the garage, I suddenly came face to face 
with a black-and-white animal with a pointed nose, 
a bushy tail, and an air of justified confidence. I 
realized that I was on the brink of a meeting which 
demanded courage but not rashness. “Be brave, be 
brave, but not too brave,”’ should always be the motto 
of the man who meets the skunk. From my past 
experience, however, I knew that the skunk is a good 
sportsman. Unless rushed, he always gives three 
warnings before he proceeds to extremities. 
As I came near, he stopped and shook his head 
sadly, as if saying to himself, “I’m afraid there’s going 
to be trouble, but it isn’t my fault.”’ As I still came 
on, he gave me danger signal number one by suddenly 
stamping his forepaws rapidly on the hard ground. 
Upon my further approach followed signal number 
two, to wit, the hoisting aloft of his aforesaid long, 
