Carrying Skunks. 
West Park, N. Y., Jan. io. — Editor Forest 
and Stream: In your issue of Dec. 14 Mr. Ray¬ 
mond S. Spears quotes from the writings of 
two well known naturalists, W. H. Hudson and 
C. Hart Merriam, to the effect that skunks can¬ 
not be safely carried by the tail, calling it “the 
old farmer notion” that they can. I return to 
the attack with pleasure. 
In the first place it is not only unfair for Mr. 
Spears to quote Hudson, a writer on South 
American subjects, concerning the skunks of 
which country I made no allusion, but Hudson 
is far from reliable as a naturalist; for instance, 
to quote a sample from Hudson, he describes 
(Naturalist on La Plata, p. 193), a savage kind 
of spider, which rushes out to attack persons 
passing near its lair, going on to state how 
one pursued him when he happened near, trot¬ 
ting by on horseback. He struck at this on¬ 
coming spider with his whip, only to have the 
spider seize the lash as it bit the air near it 
and come at him up the whip. He only escaped 
by flinging away whip, spider and all. In an¬ 
other place (ibid, page 48), in speaking of the 
puma or mountain lion, he gives an account of 
lassoing a puma which made no resistance or 
attempt to get away, but looked reproachfully 
at the hunter, realizing that it had to die, whin¬ 
ing piteously while tears rolled down its cheeks! 
Just read what President Roosevelt has to say 
about Hudson (“Outdoor Pastimes of an Ameri¬ 
can Hunter,” page 18). 
Now for Dr. Merriam: You will notice in 
the paragraph that Mr. Spears quotes from Dr. 
Merriam that he held the skunk safely until the 
dog seized the skunk by the head. To hold the 
tail end of a skunk while a dog holds—and not 
very gently, I’ll warrant—the head end is not 
holding a skunk by the tail as I meant in “the 
old farmer notion” and can have but one re¬ 
sult; namely, that so well described by Dr. 
Merriam. If Mr. Spears will kindly look again at 
my letter in Forest and Stream that started 
this discussion he will see that the hunter that 
allowed the skunk to get his front feet on the 
wall while holding his tail, suffered as did Dr. 
Merriam. If Dr. Merriam had left his dog at 
home he would have been unharmed. Now, hav¬ 
ing like ex-Speaker Reed, “embalmed these two 
flies,” etc., let us apply a little common sense 
to this unholy joke and clear the air once and 
for all. 
Skunks, in common with other members of 
the weasel family, have two glands holding this 
ill-smelling fluid, and though they alone can eject 
it to a distance, their fluid is not nearly so 
nauseating as that for instance of a mink. They 
eject their fluid through two little teats inside 
the anus, thrusting these teats outside when 
squirting. When held in mid air by the tail they 
can only throw their fluid two or three feet 
and only at the expense of getting it on them¬ 
selves, something any skunk is more than loath 
to do. Secondly, skunks, like all other things in 
this world, show individual variations, and that 
ninety-nine skunks can be carried by the tail is 
not saying that the one hundredth can. 
Mr. Ernest Harold Baynes (secretary of the 
American Bison Society) says he has often car¬ 
ried skunks by their tails and once carried one 
around a small lake by the nape of its neck. At 
another time he held one at bay in a field while 
he took pictures of it. He had no difficulty in 
getting the one I had in a cage by the nape of 
its neck, the only remonstrance the skunk made 
was in showing its teeth. 
I wish Mr. Spears could have been here one 
evening about six weeks ago. I stepped out to 
go to my hen house and almost stepped on a 
large handsome skunk. I chased the skunk under 
my shed and into a pile of planks. I immediately 
set some traps where he went in and was so 
fortunate as to be present when he came out 
about an hour later. By lantern light I saw one 
trap leap from its bed and fetch the skunk up 
short. I took the string that was tied to the 
trap, the skunk keeping as far from me as string 
and trap chain allowed. Catching the string over 
a broom handle I carried the skunk to a barrel 
where I liberated him from the trap. He was 
a handsome creature with a broad, arched back 
and slim “cute” face. He was so attractive 
looking it was hard tb keep from picking him 
up and petting him. The next morning I took 
him out of the barrel, put him in a bag, and, I 
am ashamed to relate, drowned him. Nothing 
happened. 
Another skunk, a young one, that I kept in a 
box for a month or more last fall in my work¬ 
shop, afforded us much amusement. He would 
not eat rats, but would take mice and Eng¬ 
lish sparrows from my hand. He also ate 
sweet apples. He did not grow very much, 
showing that wild skunks must eat a great deal. 
He finally escaped into my workshop by per¬ 
forming the apparently incredible feat of cutting 
a hole through good, new, fine-meshed chicken 
wire. I recaught him with a steel trap, whereat 
he made a smell. When I drowned him there 
was more smell. 
A friend of mine here has trapped and hunted 
skunks since boyhood, sometimes catching forty 
or fifty every fall. He says that as a rule skunks 
will not shoot unless you hurt them. When 
caught and killed by a dead fall they will some¬ 
times discharge their essence and sometimes not. 
This is also true of skunks caught in steel traps; 
also drowning them. He says skunks and cats 
are very fond of skunk carcasses. Every car¬ 
cass he has he drags about a field and sets in 
a “house,” catching every skunk or cat that 
comes into that field. Skunks can discharge 
their fluid apparently all day, or as he expresses 
it, “until they’re dead.” To carry one by the 
tail, he says, go slowly and make no sudden 
motions, taking care to hold the animal clear 
of everything—especially dogs. 
Julian Burroughs. 
White Bear Lake, Minn., Jan. 15 .—Editor 
Forest and Stream: On page 51 of Forest and 
Stream I read that W. W. Brown had some 
trouble with a skunk throwing its fluid into his 
face and eyes and could see in the dark going 
home. I have had thirteen skunks throw their 
fluid into my face and eyes and to my surprise 
I could not see for two days either day or night, 
so it may be the unlucky thirteen was too much 
for me. When I got home I was told it was too 
much. I had to get out and change clothes in 
the back yard, and it was none too warm either. 
It must have been that Mr. Brown got just 
enough and in the right place to have that effect 
on his eyes, for I am sure that if Mr. Brown 
had all I got he would not look across the valley 
or any other that night, so I am sorry that my 
experience did not turn out as Mr. Brown’s and 
was a failure. R. G. Brachvogel. 
Animals Doctor Themselves. 
Amid the flood of extraordinary animal stories, 
credible and incredible, that get into print now¬ 
adays, it is interesting to read some extraordi¬ 
nary ones that we can feel sure are true. In 
the Medical Times for January, 1908, appears the 
following letter from Dr. Stanley M. Ward, ol 
Hampton, N. H. He says: 
“One hot day during the summer of 1906 an 
eletric car running at full speed struck a small, 
black female cat of mine, removing her left hind 
leg near the hip joint. Now, we all know whai 
would have taken place had one of our patients 
been thus treated. There would have been a 
council of surgeons, anaesthesia, picking up 0 
vessels, cutting away of dead tissue, preparation 
of flaps, etc.; all under full antisepsis, of course 
and mayhap a death certificate as the ultimatum! 
Not so with my feline. She crawled away anc, 
hid herself under a bush somehow. She was 
half covered with grass, leaves and earth wher, 
I found her, twenty-four hours afterward. She 
licked the wound almost continuously, but re 
fused any food or attention whatever. Appar 
ently she had decided to keep cool and abstem¬ 
ious, and to lick that wound religiously. Now 
if our patient, after many anxious days anc 
nights on the part of all concerned, had beer, 
able to resume business after three months, then, 
would have been congratulations all around 
probably well merited. But my cat, after lyin; 
still for a few days, managed to crawl up a stej 
or two of a high porch and to drink a little milk 
I noticed, however, that above all things, she 
sought the shade. In less than two weeks sh' 
hobbled around on the advent in my yard of : 
butcher’s cart. The next spring she gave birtl 
to a litter of kittens, and as I write the three 
legged cat purrs contentedly under the stove ; 
few feet away. I call that good surgery. I may 
add that on several occasions the cat becaim 
very offensive on account of pus forming in th> 
wound. Under these circumstances she wouli 
absent herself—not always, it is true, reluctant! 
—for a short time, returning in a clean, aseptk 
condition. I have seen nothing in modern sur 
gery surpassing this ‘category,’ either in re 
suits or in the time taken to accomplish them 
But then they say ‘a cat has nine lives.’ ” 
