bay, there being some little ponds left. 
I was looking for ducks or snipe and 
saw what I thought was a muskrat. 
I went over to the place where it was, 
and to my astonishment, I saw a big 
grey squirrel. That was not the stran- 
gest part of it. When I went towards 
it, it did not turn from me, but jumped 
at me and bit me twice, once, on the 
hand and once on my leg. When it 
made another move for me, I shot the 
poor thing. I have seen hundreds of 
black and red and a few white squirrels, 
but a grey squirrel in my boyhood days 
was almost a curiosity. 
Rev. FRANK F. W. GREENE, 
Aberdeen, Wash. 
My First Skunk 
DEAR FOREST AND STREAM: 
ROUND the middle of November, 
on one of those clear, cold, crisp 
afternoons, when the sky is wrapt in a 
tinted blue which makes one feel that 
he would like to go tramping in the 
woods, I came home with high pros- 
pects of going trapping for the first 
time. 
I loaded my cumbersome traps over 
my back and with all the cheerfulness 
one could expect, I started out. 
I had known of several ground holes 
which were frequented by fur-bearing 
animals, and to these I went, taking all 
the precautions known to me at the 
time, and so after setting six or seven 
traps, I came home anxious for the 
morning’s secrets to be revealed. 
I was up early, in fact long before 
the sun, which made it even more try- 
ing, for I had to wait for daylight to 
see my way about. At the first hole, 
much to my disappointment, I did not 
discover anything but a cold steel trap 
chained to a stump as I had left it the 
night before. But still my hopes were 
high, so boldly I plodded on to the next 
hole. Upon nearing it I thought surely 
I had heard something helplessly jump- 
ing about. But upon disclosing it, I 
found nothing but an idle trap glaring 
up at me. In blank despair, I resolved 
not to let my ears run away with me 
again. I again continued to seek the 
prize, but at the third hole, which was 
in a fence, I had considerable trouble in 
finding the trap, but upon looking more 
closely I was able to see it under a 
clump of leaves, but—empty to be sure. 
Now you can imagine how discour- 
aged I was, but thinking surely to find 
something in my trap at the next hole, 
I went on. It was getting late—half 
past seven in fact—and I was begin- 
ning to think of school, which opened at 
eight-thirty, for I had to walk two miles. 
Suddenly all my school worries and 
discouragements of the past hour were 
shattered as if by a bomb, for directly 
in front of me I heard my prey squirm- 
ing about, and this time I knew it 
wasn’t my imagination, for plainly 
against the early morning sun I dis- 
cerned a furry black and white form, 
writhing about in the dirt, and although 
I did not know it at the time, it turned 
out to be a skunk with all its deadly 
scents and perfumes concealed; per- 
haps, if I had known it, I wouldn’t have 
been so bold in my proceedings. 
Immediately I saw the furry animal, 
I set myself about to kill this glorious 
prize. I had a hammer which I had 
brought along and with this I pro- 
ceeded to open the fight. I crept cau- 
tiously up upon the creature, had raised 
the hammer, and was about to strike 
when—well, it all happened so quickly 
that even if I had had my wits about 
me, I would not have been able to use 
them, for he wheeled about and in less 
time than it takes to wink I was grop- 
ing blindly about in the most ridiculous 
fashion imaginable! My eyes and nose 
were suffering with the results. I must 
give him credit, he had fooled me com- 
pletely, but after I had cleared my eyes 
of this most generous supply of juice, 
I tried again. This time I was care- 
ful to protect the windows of my soul, 
but in my excitement I forgot all about 
my clothes. He shot his perfume at me 
several times, and saturated my gar- 
ments well before I had succeeded in 
landing the death blow. He had fought 
a good fight and had been conquered. 
I then took him from the trap and 
started home, satisfied to leave the re- 
maining traps. I did not realize the 
condition of my clothes, until I had al- 
most reached home. I had on my school 
suit and was beginning to imagine the 
reception I was to receive from my 
adoring family. And sure enough—I 
got it good—for neither my clothes nor 
I were allowed in the house, much to 
my regret. 
A suit of clothes and other necessary 
garments for a complete change were 
thrown from the window plus the com- 
mand to keep well out of smelling dis- 
tance, but I guess I had enough of the 
precious scent about me to keep the 
flavor even after vigorous efforts on 
the part of my mother. Sure enough, 
for after I had managed to acquire a 
little breakfast through the window, I 
started off to school anxious for the 
close of the afternoon session so I could 
skin my reward. 
Upon entering the classroom every- 
body began to sniff the air, then every- 
one pointed to me, except the teacher, 
who pointed to the door. I knew what 
she meant and made my escape. But 
I was satisfied. I had gotten my first 
skunk. 
THORBURN RAND. 
Easy Coon Hunting 
DEAR FoREST & STREAM: 
HAVE just read, with interest, the 
article by Bleeker entitled ‘“Ring- 
tail.”” Thinking that possibly you would 
not mind a brief article from the Far 
West I am going to give you a bit of 
story that happened at our own door 
on Sunday evening, as wife and I were 
reading by the lamp light. Our dog, 
“Boy,” was apparently sleeping on the 
front porch. It was about nine o’clock 
and quite dark. All at once I heard 
the dog growl and spring from the 
porch and run to a little thicket not 
more than a hundred and fifty feet 
from the house. I stepped to the porch 
and heard him rushing about in the 
thicket, and soon his announcing bark 
telling that something was doing over 
there. Thinking he had a skunk cor- 
nered, I took my shot gun and flash- 
light and made my way in his direction, 
being somewhat careful of my ap- 
proach, expecting to be met with an un- 
pleasant odor. I went down across the 
little creek and started up on the other 
side and as I did so I caught sight of 
Boy trying to climb a pine tree. Then 
I knew that it was not a skunk. I went 
up to the tree and tried to see with the 
flashlight, what he had treed. I could 
not get a glimpse of anything but just 
pine tree. Then I climbed up on the 
bank above the tree and casting my 
light up in the top of the tree I caught 
sight of what looked like fire balls. 
There seemed to be several of them and 
they were moving about in the top of 
the tree. I called to my wife to come 
over and hold the flashlight. Then I 
began to shoot at the balls of fire. Each 
shot brought something down, I did not 
know what it was, but Boy was down 
by the foot of the tree ready to care 
for anything that came down. So I 
kept on shooting as long as I could see 
any fire balls. I had shot the third 
time and not being able to locate any 
more fire balls, I made my way down 
below the tree where Boy was on guard. 
In a cowpath running along the hill- 
side below the pine tree I found that 
the dog had five big coon stretched out 
for my inspection. We had a coop of 
small chickens not far from the house, 
and it is probable that the coon were 
looking for a feast, but had not counted 
on the dog. One coon weighed 24lbs. 
We have other animals that seek to 
feed on our white leghorns, but the dog, 
Boy, rounds them up and calls me out 
at any old time of the night to deal 
with them. The flashlight and the shot 
gun soon ends the encounter and the 
danger of a raid on the chicken coop. 
S. B. CHASE, 
Peck, Idaho. 
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