SKOBIA THE SKUNK
Quite an interesting legend is the one describing how Skobia the Skunk
came to be so small as he is:
A long time ago there lived a pole-cat who was the parent of all the race
of skunks. He was a great skunk. In size he approached the cinnamon bear;
his perfume was strong in proportion, while his tread was correspondingly
heavy and loud. Many were the nightly visits of “Skobia,” as the skunk is
called by the Indian, to their camps and great was the damage to life and
comfort caused by him.
[Illustration: CHARM MASK AGAINST THE EVIL EYE—OLD-MAN-HOUSE TRIBE]
The Indians were at a loss to know what to do with Skobia, but at length
they thought of old S’Beow and sent for him. Upon his arrival on the
scene S’Beow caused them all to get in a great potlatch house, a large
building used by the Indians of the Northwest coast on their ceremonial
occasions. Then they all set themselves to cutting a big pile of vine
maple wood and bringing it into the potlatch house. At length when a
sufficient pile of wood had been gathered together they built a great and
very hot fire of the wood. They fastened up all the doors and each Indian
cut himself a cudgel about six feet long. All but old S’Beow went to bed
and pretended to be asleep.
Along about midnight, after the fire had burned to a bed of live coals
the heavy tread of Skobia was heard approaching the potlatch house. To
illustrate the heavy tread of Skobia, the Indian will get down on all
fours and slap the palm of his hands heavily on the ground after the
fashion of the bear, skunk, weasel and other flat-footed quadrupeds.
Skobia came to the door and demanded admittance, but no one paid any
attention to him. He then begged of them and plead with them and told
them that he was their friend and wanted to come in to see them. At
length old S’Beow pretended to rouse up and, like one just waking from
a deep sleep, he stretched and yawned and inquired of Skobia what he
wanted. “I am your friend and I want to come in and visit you,” replied
Skobia.
“You’re a skunk and will stink us out!” said old S’Beow. “I’m your
friend! I won’t hurt you,” replied Skobia. At last S’Beow told Skobia
how he might enter the house. Skobia was advised to go up on the roof,
blindfold himself and just reach his toes down through the opening in the
smoke hole so that S’Beow could catch hold of them. He did so and S’Beow
caught hold of them and quickly opened up the smoke hole and threw Skobia
down on the bed of burning coals.
[Illustration: STONE AND COPPER WAR CLUBS—TAKEN FROM SKOKOMISH INDIANS]
The Indians then who pretended to have been asleep all this time, but who
had not been asleep at all, sprung to their feet, grabbed their cudgels
and turned Skobia over and over on the live coals and they kept turning
him over, and turning him over, and Skobia kept growing smaller, and
growing smaller, a long time until he was no larger than a rat and would
not stink enough to hurt anybody. They then opened the door, kicked him
out and ever since then the skunk has been a very small animal and no
Indian has been afraid of him.