IX
The Cat And The Skunk
Sam was away on a "massacree" to get some bread. Guy had been trappedby his natural enemy and was serving a term of hard labour in thegarden; so Yan was alone in camp. He went around the various mudalbums, but discovered nothing new, except the fact that tracks weregetting more numerous. There were small Skunk and Mink tracks with thelarge ones now. As he came by the brush fence at the end of the blazedtrail he saw a dainty little Yellow Warbler feeding a great lubberlyyoung Cow-bird that, evidently, it had brought up. He had often heardthat the Cow-bird habitually "plays Cuckoo" and leaves its egg in thenest of another bird, but this was the first time he had actuallyseen anything of it with his own eyes. As he watched the awkwardmud-coloured Cow-bird flutter its ungrown wings and beg help from thebrilliant little Warbler, less than half its size, he wondered whetherthe fond mother really was fooled into thinking it her own young, orwhether she did it simply out of compassion for the foundling. He nowturned down creek to the lower mud album, and was puzzled by a newtrack like this.
Track of small mud turtle]
He sketched it, but before the drawing was done it dawned on him thatthis must be the track of a young Mud-turtle. He also saw a lot ofvery familiar tracks, not a few being those of the common Cat, and hewondered why they should be about so much and yet so rarely seen. Ofcourse the animals were chiefly nocturnal, but the boys were partlyso, and always on the ground now, so that explanation was notsatisfactory. He lay down on his breast at the edge of the brook,which had here cut in a channel with steep clay walls six feet highand twenty feet apart. The stream was very small now--a mere threadof water zigzagging over the level muddy floor of the "canon," as Yanloved to call it. A broad, muddy margin at each side of the water madea fine place of record for the travelling Four-foots, and tracks newand old were there in abundance.
The herbage on the bank was very rank and full of noisy Grasshoppersand Crickets. Great masses of orange Jewelweed on one side werevariegated with some wonderful Cardinal flowers. Yan viewed all thiswith placid content. He knew their names now, and thus they weretransferred from the list of tantalizing mysteries to that of engagingand wonderful friends. As he lay there on his breast his thoughtswandered back to the days when he did not know the names of anyflowers or birds--when all was strange and he alone in his hunger toknow them, and Bonnerton came back to him with new, strange force ofreminder. His father and mother, his brother and schoolmates werethere. It seemed like a bygone existence, though only two months ago.He had written his mother to tell of his arrival, and once since tosay that he was well. He had received a kind letter from his mother,with a scripture text or two, and a postscript from his father withsome sound advice and more scripture texts. Since then he had notwritten. He could not comprehend how he could so completely driftaway, and yet clearly it was because he had found here in Sanger thewell for which he had thirsted.
As he lay there thinking, a slight movement nearer the creek caughthis eye. A large Basswood had been blown down. Like most of its kind,it was hollow. Its trunk was buried in the tangle of rank summergrowth, but a branch had been broken off and left a hole in the mainstem. In the black cavern of the hole there appeared a head withshining green eyes, then out there glided onto the log a common grayCat. She sat there in the sunshine, licked her paws, dressed her furgenerally, stretched her claws and legs after the manner of her kind,walked to the end of the log, then down the easy slope to the bottomof the canon. Here she took a drink, daintily shook the water fromher paws, and set the hair just right with a stroke. Then to Yan'samusement she examined all the tracks much as he had done, though itseemed clear that her nose, not her eyes, was judge. She walked downstream, leaving some very fine impressions that Yan mentally resolvedto have in his note-book, very soon suddenly stopped, looked upwardand around, a living picture of elegance, sleekness and grace, witheyes of green fire then deliberately leaped from the creek bed to thetangle of the bank and disappeared.
This seemed a very commonplace happening, but the fact of a house Cattaking to the woods lent her unusual interest, and Yan felt much ofthe thrill that a truly wild animal would have given him, and had gonefar enough in art to find exquisite pleasure in the series of picturesthe Cat had presented to his eyes.
He lay there for some minutes expecting her to reappear; then far upthe creek he heard slight rattling of the gravel. He turned and saw,not the Cat, but a very different and somewhat larger animal. Low,thick-set, jet black, with white marks and an immense bushy tail--Yanrecognized the Skunk at once, although he had never before met a wildone in daylight. It came at a deliberate waddle, nosing this way andthat. It rounded the bend and was nearly opposite Yan, when threelittle Skunks of this year's brood came toddling after the mother.
The old one examined the tracks much as the Cat had done, and Yan gota singular sense of brotherhood in seeing the wild things at his ownstudy.
Then the old Skunk came to the fresh tracks of the Cat and paused solong to smell them that the three young ones came up and joined in.One of the young ones went to the bank where the Cat came down. As itblew its little nose over the fresh scent, the old Skunk waddled tothe place, became quite interested, then climbed the bank. The littleones followed in a disjointed procession, varied by one of themtumbling backward from the steep trail.
The old Skunk reached the top of the bank, then mounted the log andfollowed unerringly the Cat's back trail to the hole in the trunk.Down this she peered a minute, then, sniffing, walked in, till nothingcould be seen but her tail. Now Yan heard loud, shrill mewing from thelog, "_Mew, mew, m-e-u-w, m-e-e-u-w,"_ and the old Skunk camebacking out, holding a small gray Kitten.
The little thing mewed and spit energetically, holding on to theinside of the log. But the old Skunk was too strong--she dragged itout. Then holding it down with both paws, she got a good firm gripof its neck and turned to carry it down to the bed of the brook.The Kitten struggled vigorously, and at last got its claws into theSkunk's eye and gave such a wrench that the ill-smelling villainloosened its hold a little and so gave the Kitten another chance tosqueal, which it did with a will, putting all its strength into asuccession of heartrending _mee-ow--mee-ows._ Yan's heartwas touched. He was about to dash to the rescue when there was ascrambling in the far grass, a rush of gray, and the Cat--the oldmother Cat was on the scene, a picture of demon rage, eyes ablaze, furerect, ears back. With the spring of a Deer and the courage of a Lionshe made for the black murderer. Eye could not follow the flashingsof her paws. The Skunk recoiled and stared stupidly, but not long;nothing was "long" about it. Her every superb muscle was tingling withforce and mad with hate as the mother Cat closed like a swoopingFalcon. The Skunk had no time to aim that dreadful gun, and in theexcitement fired a volley of the deadly musky spray backward,drenching her own young as they huddled in the trail.
"The Cat and the Skunk"]
Tooth and claw and deadly grip--the old Cat raged and tore, the blackfur flew in every direction, and the Skunk for once lost her head andfired random shots of choking spray that drenched herself as well asthe Cat. The Skunk's head and neck were terribly torn. The air wassuffocating with the poisonous musk. The Skunk was desperately woundedand threw herself backward into the water. Blinded and choking, thoughscarcely bleeding, the old Cat would have followed even there, but theKitten, wedged under the log, mewed piteously and stayed the mother'sfury. She dragged it out unharmed but drenched with musk and carriedit quickly to the den in the hollow log, then came out again and stooderect, blinking her blazing eyes--for they were burning with thespray--lashing her tail, the image of a Tigress eager to fight eitherpart or all the world for the little ones she nursed. But the oldSkunk had had more than enough. She scrambled off down the canon. Herthree young ones had tumbled over each other to get out of the waywhen they got that first accidental charge of their mother's battery.She waddled away, leaving a trail of blood and smell, and they waddledafter, leaving an odour just as strong.
"The old Cat raged a
nd tore"]
Yan was thrilled by the desperate fight of the heroic old Cat. Herwhole race went up higher in his esteem that day; and the fact thatthe house Cat really could take to the woods and there maintainherself by hunting was all that was needed to give her a place in hislist of animal heroes.
Pussy walked uneasily up and down the log, from the hole where theKittens were to the end overlooking the canon. She blinked very hardand was evidently suffering severely, but Yan knew quite well thatthere was no animal on earth big enough or strong enough to frightenthat Cat from her post at the door of her home. There is no couragemore indomitable than that of a mother Cat who is guarding her young.
At length all danger of attack seemed over, and Pussy, shaking herpaws and wiping her eyes, glided into her hole. Oh, what a shock itmust have been to the poor Kittens, though partly prepared by theirbrother's unsavoury coming back. There was the mother, whose returnhad always been heralded by a delicious odour of fresh Mouse or bird,interwoven with a loving and friendly odour of Cat, that was in itselfa promise of happiness. Scent is the main thing in Cat life, and nowthe hole was darkened by a creature that was rank with every nasalguarantee of deadly enmity. Little wonder that they all fled puffingand spitting to the dark corners. It was a hard case; all the littlestomachs were upset for a long time. They could do nothing but makethe best of it and get used to it. The den never smelt any betterwhile they were there, and even after they grew up and lived elsewheremany storms passed overhead before the last of the Skunk smell leftthem.