And still Striped Coat ran, dodging and threatening his pursuers when they came too close, but ever getting nearer to the Henry cabin. At the open doorway stood Mr. Henry, a pipe in his mouth; he did not move a muscle as the wood pussy crossed the little clearing, eyed him inquiringly and then slipped by and into his nest behind the woodbox, with all his old dignity suddenly returned.
Outside the cabin a howl of joy went up from the pursuers.
“We’ve got him now!” they shouted. But Mr. Henry still quietly smoked in the doorway and eyed them composedly.
“The skunk,” he said, at last, “is in my house. It is safe with me.”
“But that’s the black skunk! That’s old Striped Coat!” shouted one. They stood about arguing until another of their number called disgustedly. “Ah! can’t you see? He wants all the reward for himself. Come on back.” Then they trooped away, vowing all kinds of vengeance; but Mr. Henry still smoked.
He was however thinking very hard. Unless he did exactly the right thing he saw very clearly that this splendid little animal of the woods would sooner or latter be killed or captured. The news of where it had last been seen would spread only too quickly. Presently he called in the reluctant Mike and helped him make a hole in one corner of the cabin floor to serve as a safer retreat for Striped Coat who by using it could go under the cabin itself.
And Striped Coat seemed to understand, for all that night he could be heard digging under the floor to make the place even more cozy and safe.
Mr. Henry had taken such a liking to Striped Coat that he wanted to make sure the wild wood pussy would like the cabin well enough to make it a permanent home. With this in mind he built an underground drain leading under it to a pile of stones nearby. Safety was even more important than comfort in the matter of a den, and through this back door Striped Coat could feel able to go or come when he chose. The stone pile hid the entrance and allowed no animal larger than he, to enter through its cracks.
It was a fine arrangement and Striped Coat liked it. He built a big nest of dry grass, leaves and cotton waste under the cabin and slept there instead of in his corner back of the wood box, but at night he often came out of the hole in the floor and walked around the room while Mr. Henry was eating supper, showing friendliness but in a dignified, distant way. After eating a few scraps he would go back to the hole, then out through the drain to the stone pile around which he would walk for a time scenting the air and making very sure all was well before leaving for the woods.
Under the persimmon and wild apple trees he picked up ripe fruit, often shaken down by Possum
Under the persimmon and wild apple trees he picked up ripe fruit, often shaken down by Possum
He was growing bigger and finer every day. By the time the frosts of October had turned the leaves red, sweetened the acorns and numbed the big insects so that they were more easily caught, his winter coat of fur to keep him warm in the coming icy weather, was almost at its full prime, long, almost like velvet in softness, and black as coal, yet so glossy that it fairly glittered in the sunlight. On his head and neck stood out the pretty white markings which had given him his name.
His hunts in the woods now were wonderful picnics. In the grassy spots he could find big, full grown grasshoppers and crickets, as well as luscious white grubs which dry weather had brought up within an inch or two of the surface of the ground. Around the grape-vine tangles, and under the persimmon and wild apple trees he picked up ripe fruit often shaken down by Possum, and under the white oaks, acorns almost as sweet as chestnuts, while many other plants, bushes, vines and trees bore edible things which he liked, such as tubers, berries or seeds. He found many mice too in their nests of grass, and more yellow jacket and bumble bee combs than he could eat. No wonder therefore that he was able to store up a lot of surplus food in the form of fat, to help him live through the coming winter when bad weather might keep him from finding more food for weeks at a time.
It is well that Autumn is a time of plenty, for in the North it enables the animals and even some birds which do not migrate to the warm South, to gather much more food than they need at the moment. When the cold winds blow and the ground is frozen it is badly needed. Red Squirrel hid nuts in forks of limbs and in hollows and crevices, Grey Squirrel buried a supply in good safe places, Ground Hackie made a granary for himself underground, the foxes buried things like dead mice, pieces of rabbit, frogs, snakes, fish and even apples, but creatures like Bear, Woodchuck, Possum, Coon and Striped Coat just stored, in layers of rich fat around their body, enough nourishment to carry them through the hard months, until warm, pleasant days came. Those that were not wise enough to gather a supply in some form, had a terrible time and often died before spring.
As Mr. Henry kept open house at the cabin every Sunday, it was usual for at least one canoe party of his family and friends to come for luncheon and a walk around the interesting woods. But more interesting to them than anything else was an occasional glimpse of Striped Coat, who though usually sleeping in the day time was waked up by the new voices and often induced to come out for a dainty piece of meat or fish. The friendliness of this beautiful and entirely free creature of the woods delighted many a visitor.
When really cold weather set in, Mr. Henry prepared to leave the cabin until Spring, so he anxiously watched Striped Coat in the hope that before leaving time came, the wood pussy would hibernate, that is to say, go to sleep for the winter in the safe, warm nest. His fat would feed him while he slept, for without exercise he would not need much nourishment. The woods were well sprinkled with traps and a snow for tracking might come at any time and help Farmer Slown or other woodsman to locate his den and set the traps more dangerously unless he was guarded.
The friendliness of this beautiful and entirely free creature of the woods delighted many a visitor
The friendliness of this beautiful and entirely free creature of the woods delighted many a visitor
At length a very cold day came and Striped Coat could be heard remodeling his nest and digging energetically. Mr. Henry watched for him and was surprised once or twice to see the head of an entirely strange wood pussy thrust out of the hole in the floor as it looked around. What it was hunting for, was soon shown by Striped Coat who presently came out and began dragging at the rug as if to carry it away with him.
“Ah! so that’s it,” thought the watcher, “you have brought in a friend to stay with you and need more covers to make him comfortable. Well, you shall have them!” And as often as Striped Coat came up, he was handed a ball of cotton waste. Soon he appeared no more and all was quiet except for the sighing of the north wind outside. Striped Coat had gone comfortably to sleep, and with him, as in the days when he was little, was his mother.
December and January passed without Striped Coat waking up for more than an occasional peep at the woods whenever the warm south wind was blowing; but the last days of February found him uneasy and on the watch for good weather; then there came a gentle warm rain which brought a new scent into the woods—the scent of Spring.
Striped Coat caught it and was lured out as soon as darkness came; his mother followed eagerly. They were both anxious to get food but also interested in looking around and hunting up the old places which they had frequented in the summer. The mother travelled to the deserted woodchuck burrow under the holly tree, and finding it pleasantly dry and homelike, rearranged the nest and slept there instead of returning to the cabin.
Striped Coat however went further; he made a great circle through the woods which carried him far beyond Farmer Slown’s field to a sandy hill where, because the ground was dryer and warmer than below, many animals had their winter dens and where therefore it was not as lonely as nearer the Creek. Here he found the trails of Possum and of Coon and even of Gray Fox, but of none of his own kind. Wherever he went he saw others of the woods folk, all hungry, all in a hurry and none interested in him.
That day he spent in a hollow log far in the pines. It was an uncomfortable place, so he left it early on the following night and restlessly resumed his trip through the dripping, scented woods, on and on with scarcely a stop for rest. The long sleep had left him lonely, he knew that somewhere were companions, and he would keep on going until he found them.
Nearly all of the food of the last year had already been gathered by the woods creatures and the new year’s food had not begun to grow, but here and there he picked up something to stave off hunger—a half awakened insect or two, a dead shrew, scattered acorns and some grass bulbs. Here and there, too, he found good dens and spent more than one day in comfortably sleeping in them, only to start out again at dusk.
His seemed now almost a hopeless task, due to the success of trappers and especially to Farmer Slown’s relentless work against the wood pussies; yet still he searched.
At length his circle brought him back to the Goose Creek country where he knew the trails and felt a longing once more to sleep safely in his home under the cabin. For ten nights he had been travelling, and now disheartened, footsore and thin, he was back where he started, after finding the world a lonely place. But here would at least be his mother, or was she too gone now and he left, the last of the wood pussies on Goose Creek?
Ahead loomed the cabin. Striped Coat, dragging himself gloomily through the bushes scarcely looked at it until, near the stone pile, he caught on a breath of wind an unfamiliar scent—very faint, very elusive but at the same time unmistakably telling him that a strange wood pussy had been there.
In an instant it reawakened his interest in life and made of him a different looking creature. Again he was alert, quick footed, eager. Again his wonderful fur fluffed up, until his body looked like a perfect muff.
Cautiously, he entered the drain, following the elusive scent which led under the cabin and showed that in his absence the other wood pussy had actually slept in his cozy nest. Now the den was empty, he had come back too late.
Striped Coat moved about, noting all the places where the other had walked also. Little changes had been made here and there—a burrow started, some earth moved away from the nest and the nest itself made smaller as if to fit around a smaller body. Presently he came again to the drain and started out, determined to go in search of this other, where he did not know.
And then he noticed the scent more strongly, and coming out of the stone pile found it stronger still, as if the other had been there only a moment before. Searching this way and that he picked up the trail and followed it into the woods. Had the other come back to the cabin and, finding the rightful owner in possession tried to escape unobserved? But how escape Striped Coat, whose nose was as keen as a knife blade was sharp; Striped Coat, the fame of whose fur had travelled over a whole country and who yet lived; Striped Coat who could travel a whole night without growing tired; Striped Coat who was lonely!
And did the other really wish very much to escape? Was not she too lonely? If not, why should she have gone so slowly into the woods as to be scarcely out of sight of the cabin when Striped Coat came rushing along her trail. Pretty little wood pussy! Was not she as thrilled as he at this meeting and timidly anxious to make friends?
And yet she pretended with all her might that she did not care the least bit about him and wanted to continue her lonely way, and only when Striped Coat seemed on the point of turning back would she look around and hesitate and lead him on again. And somehow it happened that instead of going further into the big woods, they made a circle which brought them back to the cabin. Side by side they neared the entrance, and just as the sun lit up the sky in the East they vanished that way into the stone pile, and Striped Coat had found a companion.
Side by side they neared the entrance
Side by side they neared the entrance
When the early pink and white flowers of the trailing arbutus brightened the ground in many parts of the slowly awakening woods, Mr. Henry returned to the cabin. It was there that he found it possible to do his best work, for he was a writer, who needed the quiet and solitude of a place like this. Nothing really unpleasant ever seemed to happen there, and interesting things were always cropping up. For instance there was Striped Coat! And now Striped Coat had a mate!
But the other little wood pussy did not like the noise of footsteps on the floor over her head. They frightened her. So after two days of nervous watchfulness, she could bear it no longer and slipped out under cover of the twilight, picking her way into the woods until she reached an uprooted pine under whose trunk a large woodchuck had dug a burrow. This old fellow had only recently awakened from his winter sleep and was at that moment in his snug nest, dreaming no doubt of the time when the woods would again be full of eatable green things.
It could not be said therefore that he was overjoyed when he heard scratching at his front door and caught the scent of the wood pussy as she descended towards him. Knowing from experience that to steal a burrow like this was a great temptation to the meat eaters who needed dens for themselves, he at once began to make unpleasant remarks in woodchuck language and to threaten with his teeth, the longest of which being arranged like a rat’s in the front of his mouth, could give a fearful bite.
But the wood pussy had come there because she already knew that this burrow was just the right size for her, a smaller woodchuck’s home would not have been comfortable. Moreover an old woodchuck’s den was usually well hidden and made with plenty of protection against rain and dampness as well as with a second entrance for escape in case of danger. It would not be an easy matter to drive out the old fighter who was quite as large as herself, but her need was urgent and this burrow suited her exactly.
Showing her teeth and threatening with the musk bath made no difference however to this woodchuck, indeed he worked himself into such a rage that he even drove her back inch by inch until he had her almost at the entrance again. This fighting spirit however proved his undoing, for suddenly he was attacked from the rear and with a force which there was no resisting. Striped Coat had followed the trail of his companion and, finding her fighting in the burrow, had run in too and tried to push past in order to help. The burrow being much too narrow for this, he had then rushed out of that entrance and in at the back door so quickly that he was able to surprise the old chuck before he could return to his usual fighting position in a corner with back protected.
Now, there was nothing for him to do but get out of his burrow as quickly as he could and go somewhere else where he might hope to have a little peace before being found again and driven out by some den hunter. It sounded like a hard life, but Ground Hog’s claws and feet were so powerful that in soft earth he could dig a fairly good den in a day. He was lucky this time, for had it been a fox instead of a wood pussy, he would surely have been eaten.
And so with Striped Coat still living under the cabin, his mate got a fine den all to herself, which came in handy a few weeks later when six little ones arrived, three of them like the mother and three with the dark body and the markings of Striped Coat, their father, already showing in their skin. Healthy little things they were too, with plenty of appetite which their mother was usually able to supply, for almost her only thought now was of these helpless, hairless little youngsters.
She had carried into the den and stored away conveniently, several half eaten mice, lizards and little snakes which, for a day or two, made it unnecessary for her to do much hunting, but on the fourth day she felt very hungry and wandered all the way to Farmer Slown’s field.
Striped Coat, coming across her trail, followed her there and arrived at almost the same moment, so together they explored the edge of the field for beetles and at length reached the barn under which Striped Coat slipped, as in the old days; but now things were changed, there were vile odors and diggings of rats on all sides.
Even as they entered, a huge male rat ran past them and sulkily entered a burrow. Striped Coat turned towards him, but not as quickly as his mate who dashed after the flying tail. She was still ravenously hungry and here was meat.
The rat however was now in his narrow den, feeling quite safe enough to turn and chatter furiously at his pursuers who accepted his challenge by beginning to dig. The burrow ran close to the surface of the ground, so they made the dirt fairly fly and took short cuts by skipping over some sections. This was the kind of work they were built for and the eagerness of his mate had now thoroughly aroused Striped Coat.
From one hole to another they chased the clever rat until it seemed as if at any moment they would have him cornered and force him to fight, but he knew what he was about and kept one thing in reserve, a dash to Farmer Slown’s own house, under which he had a hole leading into the kitchen. He reckoned however without the experienced wisdom of Striped Coat.
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
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
When what seemed to him the right moment had come, the rat poked his battle scarred gray nose out of the hidden hole, saw that the way seemed clear and made a rush, but Striped Coat had been waiting for just this move and made a rush too. He and the rat bumped into each other amid furious squeals, and the rat was thrown off his feet. In that moment the other wood pussy reached him and landed on top with both front paws and all her weight, but without so much as knocking the breath out of the powerful, big fellow who rolled over and would have escaped had not Striped Coat caught him suddenly by the skin on the back of his head.
Then the fight became furious. 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 directly in front of the Farmer’s house. Here the moon shone on the battle and helped the mother wood pussy to see her chance to get the death grip on the rat’s thick neck and finish him.
They did not hear a window open over their heads nor see the Farmer’s face appear; in the heat of the fighting they had forgotten all else. But now Striped Coat, who still had his grip on the rat’s head, began to drag him under the fence and then to the bushes and then to a dark thicket where they seemed safe.
Striped Coat lay down to lick a badly bitten paw and to free his wonderful fur from dirt, which he did by carefully shaking, scratching and much work with his mouth. But his mate began at the left hind leg of the rat and ate as long as she could find anything tender enough to chew. It was not as tasty a meal as she would have liked, but it all went to keep her strong and so to help the six little ones to get all the milk they needed.
It was early morning. Under the cabin, Striped Coat was in his big bed curled up asleep but twitching occasionally as he dreamed of battles with old warrior rats. In the woodchuck’s burrow under the uprooted pine, Striped Coat’s mate was giving all the little “striped coats” their morning bath, using her wet tongue as the wash rag. And in the old den under the holly tree Striped Coat’s mother was doing much the same with four little ones which made up her new family; pretty youngsters, but all showing signs of having as much white as black in their markings, when they grew up.
Over their heads the woods was now a mass of green. Birds were singing, bees were buzzing around numberless flowers, far and wide there was the hum of the insect army now come again to feed on the plant life. How this army would spread and grow and ravage the land, if birds by day were not constantly after it on the ground, in the trees and in the air, and if at night its ranks were not attacked by the active little shrews, the swift flying bat, and the wood pussies, not to mention other woodsfolk like the fox, the mole, old Possum and even Screech Owl, who all helped! In the water the fish did their part. Yes, everything must eat to live.
And the farmers were cultivating their crops and raising chickens and other live stock, for man too must eat; and they were fighting everywhere the insects and the other vermin which would like to take all these things for themselves. One of these farmers was Ben Slown of Goose Creek. Upon him on this beautiful morning Mr. Henry made a call.
It was not very formal; the Farmer sat on his cultivator in the field and Mr. Henry leaned against the fence nearby.
“Well, how’s life at the cabin?” asked the Farmer.
“Very interesting. The wild creatures are growing tame again. They are around or in my cabin most of the day and night; it’s on account of them that I came to see you; I wondered whether you and I, working together, couldn’t stop the trapping that’s going on around here. Woods animals that do a lot of good are being killed off; there are the skunks for example, only a few old ones are left. Can’t we save them? What do you say?” Mr. Henry spoke seriously and the Farmer listened equally so. Once he looked up rather sharply, as if wondering how much the other man suspected the part he had taken in trapping during the autumn and winter, but he did not interrupt.
“I’ve been thinking about those skunks, Mr. Henry,” he replied. “I know you kept a watchful eye over the black one last autumn and I’m kind of glad of it now. All last year I saw their tracks over my field. I calculated they’d eat every vegetable and ear of corn I raised, and yet somehow I never had a better crop anywhere. I’ll admit it. No cutworms, no grubs, none of those big brown beetles, even no mice to speak of.
Skunk tracks.
Skunk tracks.
“I didn’t know just what was doing the good work until I—that is, the trappers—caught off the skunks last autumn. I can tell you that after that the mice and rats nearly ate me up. Well, I still hadn’t studied it out when the other night I saw the queerest thing ever! Two skunks killing a sewer rat almost on my doorstep, and it an old fellow half as big as one of them. Such squealing you never heard, I guess! That big black skunk of yours was the one that did the trick; he wouldn’t let go, the other one just helped finish things. I tell you it was a real fight!” Farmer Slown chuckled at the recollection.
“That big black skunk of yours was the one that did the trick”
“That big black skunk of yours was the one that did the trick”
“That rat,” he continued, “had done a heap of damage already, gnawing and digging and carrying off little chickens; and neither I nor that dog of mine could ever get a hold of him. I have a feeling that the skunks take an egg whenever it’s left lying around, but they never come into my hen house like that rat.
“I’m a farmer and haven’t time to fool with wild animals the way you can, but I like to have people like you around to buy things I raise and I have a change of feeling about those skunks. I’m all for them since that rat business. Yes sir! And what’s more you needn’t worry about traps any longer.” Having said which Farmer Slown stood up to resume work as if the matter were now ended.
Mr. Henry, however, jumped the fence to give his hand a hearty shake.
“I hope we’ll be neighbors a long time!” he cried. As he strode back through the woods, the Farmer looked after him for a moment or two.
“It’s funny,” he said. “Who would have thought I would ever find that neighbors and skunks were any good!”
That night Striped Coat took a long trip. He wandered far below the Farmer’s field and then to the sandy hill in the pines and lastly along the bank of Goose Creek. He met Mink and Coon and old Possum, Gray Fox, Brown Weasel, Bun and the deer from Cranberry Swamp. All looked at him and then gave him the path. Yes, there were many animals, but after all this was his range and he was master of them all.
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. Some day his children, and perhaps later his children’s children, with black fur like his, would wander at night through the woods of Goose Creek chasing the elusive mice and beetles; but he was the first of the new order, he was Striped Coat, the Black Skunk!
As he stood there, a pale light spread over the sky, the protecting black shadows grew fainter. He knew that he, a creature of the night, must now bid farewell for a while to all the outside world. Reluctantly, he bowed his head and entered the low arch of the stone pile. Slowly his body moved out of sight, then the long tail until not even the tip remained in view.
THE END