An Uninvited Visitor
“You’ll excuse me, boys,” observed Tubby, naively, “if I stop to tie
my shoe lace. I’ll catch up with you right away, or hang on to your
wake, which will answer just as well.”
Sim chuckled as though amused.
“Bless his heart,” he remarked to Ralph, who had not exactly
understood, “Tubby has a natural prejudice against skunks. It was
honestly earned, too.”
Then he rapidly went on to sketch the adventure that had taken place
once upon a time when Tubby was green to the woods, telling how the
other upon running across a skunk for the first time thought it a
“cute” little animal just such as he wanted for a camp pet; and
after trying to get it in a corner so as to pounce on it, Tubby
wished he hadn’t--also how he was banished from active participation
in the delightful times they had later on simply because the other
fellows refused to associate with him.
All this amused Ralph greatly.
“Well, I admit that it’s mighty dangerous for any one to bother with
skunks, for they are timid animals, and mistrust every one they
don’t know,” he stated. “I move around among them without any
trouble. They feed from my hand, and I’ve taken up several of them
just as you would a tabby at home. I admit that eternal vigilance is
the price of safety when near them. You must be on the alert
continually, and never do anything to startle them.”
“Well, a bee man near our town told me bees were handled along the
same lines,” Andy Bowles added. “Those who handle the frames full of
honeycomb, and swarming with bees must be cool chaps. Smoking helps
some, for bees seem to think the hive is in danger, and begin to
load up with honey right away. It seems that when a bee is carrying
all the honey it can stagger under it isn’t liable to get busy with
its sting.”
They now arrived at the part of the big enclosure given over to the
striped animals with the bushy tails and the small heads. Tubby
stayed far back, and kept on the anxious seat all the time. No
inducement could tempt him to join the others.
“I’m not immune, if you fellows are,” he called out, when they tried
to coax him along. “I know when I’m well enough off, too, and some
people don’t seem to understand that fine point. Don’t bother with
me, boys; go ahead and investigate; but I hope you’ll be wise enough
to let Ralph do all the handling of his pets. Ugh!”
So they left Tubby there to await their return. Ralph showed them
through the skunk preserve, explaining many things connected with
the curing of skins so that they would have a marketable value.
“You see, there’s getting to be a shorter crop of the best skins
every year to meet a growing demand,” he proceeded, after the manner
of one who had the points at his fingers’ ends from constant study.
“That means commoner pelts have to take the place of those that are
falling off. Many of these are muskrat and skunk skins, and even the
common house tabby is called on to help tide over the shortage. What
with a skillful use of dyes, and even the sewing of white hairs in
black skins, they manage to deceive the public.”
He showed them how he could feed some of his queer pets. Tubby at a
distance was holding his hands together, and looking very much
distressed when he saw a dozen of the striped animals all around
Ralph, and acting like chickens on the farm when grain was being
thrown to them.
Later on, when the boys were thinking of turning away and continuing
their investigations further, they heard a great outcry from near at
hand.
“Hey! Ralph, everybody come quick, and chase this skunk away! He’s
bent on making up to me, and I can see from the way he looks that he
just knows I’m a hater of his species. Oh! please hurry and save
me!”
Laughing at the frantic appeal in Tubby’s voice, they hastened
toward him, to find that the fat boy in desperation had actually
climbed a tree, while a very small specimen of the inmates of the
corral was moving about below, now and then looking upward, as if
wondering why he was not given something to eat, as usual.
They rescued Tubby by Ralph coaxing the “terrible beast” to move
away. Tubby looked red in the face, and also seemed to be a little
ashamed at having shown the white feather.
“Well, I admit it was a bad case of rattles with me,” he said, with
a grimace; “but, then, there’s a reason. I’ve been there before, and
I know that the smaller they are the more likely you may be to get
them angry. But all’s well that ends well. I’m glad you’re done with
this particular pen. Now show us your mink and otter, won’t you,
Ralph?”
“I can show you where I keep them, and what I’ve done to induce them
to feel at home and multiply,” replied the other, “but I doubt
whether we catch sight of a single member of the community. They are
that shy they seldom come out in the daytime. As to feeding them,
all we have to do is to see that there are plenty of fish in the
brook that runs through the lot.”
“But if that brook comes and goes, what’s to prevent your
high-priced mink and otter from following it out?” inquired Andy,
who never liked to puzzle over anything unnecessarily when the
answer could be obtained simply by asking.
“Oh! we’ve fixed that by a regular barred gate at either end,”
explained Ralph. “The water can escape, ditto very small fish; but
we keep larger ones stocked in the stream; and those fur-coated
fishers can always get a mess.”
“And I suppose,” suggested Rob, deeply interested, “that if you ever
do think they’ve increased in number, and you feel like taking your
toll of the bunch, you’ll have to set regular mink and otter traps
in the water to catch them with?”
“That’s what it’ll amount to,” admitted the other, “but understand
that I’m not building any great hopes of more than getting my money
back on this mink and otter venture. I don’t believe any one has, so
far, been very successful raising them artificially. Some animals,
you know, will not breed in captivity. But I’m making the
experiment, and later on will let you know how it turns out.”
“Show us how that water gate works, will you, Ralph?” suggested his
cousin, who always liked to examine anything that excited his
interest--Tubby had also been that way once, but since a bitter
experience he had shown more commendable caution, and was ready to
take some things for granted.
“Certainly, if you come this way with me,” the fur farmer replied.
“Here’s the creek, you see, and in some of these little burrows
among the rocks and in the earth the mink and otter lie in safety.
Right now I warrant you more than one pair of bright eyes watches
every move we make, though you couldn’t discover the animal if you
had a field-glass along.”
In this fashion he continued to tell them many interesting things
connected with his study of wild animal life; some of which were new
even to Rob, who had had an extended acquaintance with such subjects
ranging over a long experience. The subject was very fascinating to
all of the scouts, even Tubby declaring that he was beginning to
take quite some stock in the study of small game animals, “all but
one kind that somehow don’t seem to appeal to me,” he went on to
say, whereupon, of course, Sim had to hastily remark:
“Huh! some of the boys are still of the opinion that they _do_
appeal to you pretty strongly, Tubby; but there, let it pass. I just
couldn’t help saying it, you know.”
They saw the tracks of the timid mink and otter along the edge of
the stream where they fished for their dinners daily, but did not
catch even a fleeting view of a member of the little fur colony.
Coming to the high fence among the trees, they found where the brook
passed out. The “gate” mentioned by Ralph was a well-built one, made
of stout lumber, and with iron bars close together, between which
the water could always pass, but no animal find either an exit or
entrance.
“Sometimes, after a storm, we have to clear this grating,” Ralph
told them, “for it catches and holds all sorts of floating stuff,
such as dead wood and the like. So far it seems to answer our
purpose. Our last census of the inmates showed that they were all
here, and that there was a pair of whelps with one set of the
mink--if that is what you call them, perhaps cubs, eh, Rob?”
“Well, I hardly know how to answer that,” confessed the other. “If I
wanted to speak of them, I’d likely say baby mink, or youngsters. It
would be a feather in your cap, Ralph, if you did succeed where so
many others have fallen down. I’m sure we all wish you the best luck
going.”
“That’s right!” declared Tubby, emphatically. “I admire pluck
wherever I see it; and somebody has always got to be a pioneer in
every movement that succeeds over many failures.”
“You see, the woods are pretty dense over in this section,”
explained the fur farmer, “and there’s always danger that some wild
beast may slip in here when Pete and myself are away, to make a haul
of my property. It would be a hard blow if I came along here some
day and found that my mink colony had been cleaned out.”
As though his words had been carried to hostile ears and aroused a
storm of protest, at that very moment there came a growl so savage
that it made Tubby tremble. He stared straight up into the tree from
which the sound seemed to proceed, pointed a quivering finger, and
gasped the one word:
“Wildcat!”