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[Illustration: Standing once more in front of the stone pile he shook
himself until his fur stood out all over him, that fur for which any
dealer would give a big price]
STRIPED COAT
THE SKUNK
by
Joseph Wharton Lippincott
_Author of_ "Bun, a Wild Rabbit"
"Red Ben, the Fox of Oak Ridge"
and "Gray Squirrel"
[Illustration: Skunk]
Illustrated by the author
THE PENN PUBLISHING
COMPANY PHILADELPHIA
MCMXXII
COPYRIGHT
1922 BY
THE PENN
PUBLISHING
COMPANY
[Illustration: Striped Coat, the Skunk]
Striped Coat, the Skunk
MADE IN U. S. A.
INTRODUCTION
Lest I be misunderstood in calling this wonderful little animal man's
best friend among the furry creatures of the wood, let me at the outset
draw attention to the fact that, far from putting a bounty on its
destruction as some people might think desirable, many states have laws
protecting it, as much for its usefulness to the farmers as for the
value of its very beautiful fur.
The large black and white striped skunks we or our pet dogs often
encounter, sometimes to our disaster, belong only in North America. Our
friend Striped Coat was one of these. In the southern and western states
lives also a little cousin of his--the spotted skunk--whose fur though
attractive is not so valuable; but neither he nor the broad-striped
skunk of Central and South America enter the pages of this story, for
Striped Coat lived his life farther north than the range of either.
All of the skunk family still seem to be considered unpleasant and
almost unmentionable creatures merely because of their ability to throw
in self-defence a liquid, in the form of a spray, possessing anything
but the fragrance of roses. Admitting that the odor is indescribably
awful and that to get it on one's clothing is anything but a reason for
joy, it may still be claimed that the skunk himself is by no means a
"smelly" animal and that his recourse to this means of defending his
life is quite permissible as proved by our own methods of warfare.
In the ocean the otherwise defenceless little squid, when attacked,
throws out a dark liquid which spreads in the water and either blinds
its pursuer momentarily or so confuses his vision that the active squid
has time to escape. It is the same thing in the case of the skunk. Let a
fierce dog rush at him, and when a show of his little teeth and a brave
stand have failed to save the poor fellow, deny him if you can the right
to use as a last resort this stinging, pungent musk which, properly
aimed at the eyes of his big enemy will have just enough effect to allow
him a safe and bloodless retreat.
I do not doubt that there are many skunks who have never had occasion to
pollute the air in this way. Several have lived for years in drains
around my country home, and because my dogs are tied at night, have only
twice made their presence known by throwing musk--once when one of their
number was run over by an automobile and once when some kind of a fight
occurred among the animals feeding together at night around the garbage
barrel.
That they have done me great service in killing rats, field mice,
beetles and grubs, is only too evident. On all sides are small holes in
the earth and otherwise unobtrusive signs of their diligence in my
behalf. They are my friends and I am theirs. To me no other pretty
creature of the woods is more interesting.
In the past the skunk has been badly treated by authors. It was so easy
to take a humorous but barbed fling at the poor wood pussy! But that day
is past, for facts will out and our debt of gratitude is too great
longer to be ignored. If my own words in tracing a part of the life
history of Striped Coat, prove at all illuminating, I shall be happy. I
have come across several skunks of his peculiar marking; one of them,
partly tamed, is shown in the illustrations; but the story itself is
largely fictional though following throughout the habits and true
characteristics of these wild little friends of man. Belonging as they
do to the elusive weasel tribe and being largely nocturnal in their
habits, to chronicle all the actual happenings in the natural, wild life
of one of them would seem an impossible task.
Including this little creature in my wild animal series is somewhat
contrary to the advice of my publishers who naturally believe in "best
sellers" rather than in "best smellers," but I have a fond hope that
Striped Coat will win his way with readers to a place beside Bun, Red
Ben, Gray Squirrel and those to follow. I might add that a young skunk
readily becomes a very tame, unusually interesting and beautiful pet, a
safe one however only if accidents are provided against by "disarming,"
that is, by the removal of the two scent sacs.
J. W. L.
Bethayres, Pa.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. The Wood Pussy's Journey 13
II. Strong Medicine 24
III. Under the Brush Pile 34
IV. Every Animal Must Eat 45
V. The Burning Woods 56
VI. Good Hunting 65
VII. Strange Happenings 75
VIII. The Mystery Solved 85
IX. Fifty Dollars on His Head 97
X. Captured at Last 107
XI. The Winter Sleep 117
XII. The Spring Awakening 125
XIII. Raising a Family 133
XIV. Master of the Woods 144
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Standing once more in front of the stone pile he shook himself
until his fur stood out all over him, that fur for which
any dealer would give a big price _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
Striped Coat's foot-prints; front and hind foot (Pen and Ink) 26
The wood pussy examined it very carefully 28
The mouse ... had left in the nest her whole family of five
young ones 51
Several times she looked out and wandered about uneasily 64
Where he had been a moment before, now stood the big bird, its
eyes glaring, wings ready for another dash and strike 72
He approached with caution 89
In much the same way as a young hawk before it acquires its full
plumage 104
Under the persimmon and wild apple trees he picked up ripe
fruit, often shaken down by Possum 119
The friendliness of this beautiful and entirely free creature of
the woods delighted many a visitor 122
Side by side they neared the entrance 132
The three tugging, biting, squealing and pulling each other this
way and that until they burst from under the barn and
had it out on the flat ground 141
Skunk Tracks (Pen and Ink) 148
"That big black skunk of yours was the one that did the trick" 149
Striped Coat, the Skunk
CHAPTER I
THE WOOD PUSSY'S JOURNEY
The full moon was shining over the narrow waters of Goose Creek. Here
and there, its light slipped between the seemingly endless branches of
the cedars, pines and oaks, and lay in silvery patches on the sand along
the banks and on the carpet of dead leaves which extended from either
side of the stream on and on, into the big silent woods. Wherever the
light could not pierce the foliage, there were black shadows in streaks
and squares and checker board patterns--black on white, white on
black--just two colors all through the quiet woods.
But presently one of these patterns seemed to move. The keen round eyes
of Screech Owl who was perching on a dead limb overhead, soon made out
the form of an animal, about the size of a small cat, moving quietly
along the woods path; but even Screech Owl had to look very hard, for
this little animal was all black and white itself and therefore like a
part of the woods carpet.
Along the path it ambled until another animal about the same size but
gray in color appeared from the opposite direction. Then the little
black and white one slowed down to a walk until the other, a 'possum,
had passed, but it might have been noted that it was the 'possum which
moved out of the path. When, a little further on, a larger animal, Gray
Fox, came trotting through the shadows and not seeing the black and
white one, nearly bumped into it, the haste with which Gray Fox leaped
aside to make the way clear was almost comical. Since both Possum and
Gray Fox felt such respect for the little black and white animal it was
very evident that there was something most important or formidable about
it.
This same feeling was even shared by two big does who with their young
fawns close at heel were walking to the creek to drink. With snorts of
surprise and of warning to their tender charges, they stood in the path
for an instant, at bay, the young ones peeping with wide spread ears
from behind their flanks. But the black and white animal, acknowledging
the right of every woods mother to protect her young, stopped just long
enough to allow the deer to see who it was and gracefully to step out of
the way. Then on it ambled.
Two old coons shuffled out of the path without any hesitation, so did
the mate of Gray Fox--all feared to come to close quarters with a full
grown wood pussy; but a mother mink who was hungry and in a bad temper
anyway, halted directly in the center of the wood pussy's trail and
curled back her lips in an evil snarl which showed every tooth in her
head.
The skunk, taken by surprise, slowed down to a walk, her long fur
bristling just a little and her bright, beady little eyes and sharp nose
trying their best to search out some reason for this menace. She had
often passed the slim-bodied mink at a distance, and knew her well as
one of the woods creatures that belonged in that part of the wood.
Surely the mink recognized her.
With bushy tail raised well over her back and every muscle ready to meet
an attack the skunk sidled cautiously forward. She was not afraid, but
she was good natured and hated a fuss. Nearer she came, then suddenly
stamped a front foot so fiercely and with such a show of anger that the
mink instinctively drew back. Past her then grandly sailed the skunk in
the very center of the path, all fluffed up like a ship under full sail.
If she saw the furious gleam in the mink's eyes she did not show it, but
went on about her business as unconcernedly as before.
It was to be sure, the custom among the little wild things not to
interfere with anyone in the woods unless he was a playmate or unless he
looked good to eat. The little gnawing tribe of grass and nut eaters,
the mice, the squirrels, the rabbits and their kind nearly always looked
like a good meal to meat eaters such as the fox, skunk, mink, owl,
'possum, 'coon and cat. Therefore the little nut and grass eaters always
had to be careful to keep entirely out of the way of the killers;
otherwise they were seen no more. But a mink would not care to eat an
old skunk unless starvation stared him in the face, nor would he go
outside of the mink family in search of a playmate.
These, however, were strange, exciting days for the woods folk. It was
spring time and nearly all of them were hunting mates or, like the
mother mink, taking care of families of hungry little ones. Only the
wood pussy seemed all alone and unhurried as she travelled steadily
through the moonlight.
Before very long, the path she followed ended in a fenced clearing. This
was new to her, so she proceeded cautiously, with many stops to test the
night air through her keen nose. Strange things had happened since she
had been there before. Trees had been cut down and dragged into heaps; a
house and a barn had been built; and worst of all for the wood pussy,
the hollow stump for which she had headed so confidently all this time,
was uprooted and gone from its old place. Now she too grew worried and
ran this way and that hunting for this cozy, safe den which, during the
Spring before, had been her home.
Well she remembered where it had stood, among beds of sweet fern and
blackberry bushes, now all plowed under or, if their ends did stick up
from the furrows, reeking with the smell of man and of his constant
companion the dog.
As the poor wood pussy looked about, a new fear swept through her. It
was growing light in the East; soon the shadows would be gone and she
would be caught without a den far from the woodchuck burrow from which,
early in the night, she had made this journey with such assurance.
She turned back, slowly retracing her steps to the edge of the wood
where stood the rows of brush piles. Here she began to hunt for a
temporary hiding place. The brush piles had not been there long enough
to have settled into tight, safe retreats; but one of them had a base of
logs under which the wood pussy found a narrow hole. Into this she
pushed her way only to be startled by the sudden scampering of some
animal which had already made this a home.
It was Bun, the woods rabbit. He was big, but his teeth and mouth were
shaped for gnawing soft grass and bark, not fighting, so he made way
very quickly for the skunk and waited outside until she should leave.
But this she did not do, so after a while he grew impatient and peeped
inside only to find her curled up in his bed of leaves fast asleep.
Bun angrily thumped his hind feet against the earth and complained a bit
to himself, but finally had to go away and find another bed. He knew of
several, for he was used to this kind of treatment on the part of the
powerful meat eaters and was always ready for a quick change,
inconvenient though it sometimes seemed.
Through the day, while the sun shone warmly on the wood pile and the
little birds hopped about it, there was no sign of the weary wood pussy.
Once she looked out to see whether it was safe yet to make the trip back
to the woodchuck's burrow, but finding the sun high overhead returned to
Bun's nest. Several times she moved uneasily and pulled more leaves
about her for bedding. But she did not leave the woodpile that day nor
the night following, and when in the morning the birds awoke with the
dawn and chirruped among the twigs, there were five wood pussies instead
of one, in Bun's old nest, four of them hairless, blind babies only a
few hours old, over whom the old wood pussy was already keeping
faithful, tireless guard.