The Babyhood of Wild Beasts/Chapter 10

by Georgia McNally

CHAPTER X

baby skunks

MY first recollection of skunks is a rather painful one. During my childhood I lived at the outpost of civilisation and many of the wild animals in our vicinity were trapped for their pelts.

A canny old woodchuck had been foraging in our neighbourhood for some time. The little the old fellow took to keep soul and body together certainly wouldn't bankrupt even the humblest landlord and the pleasure of the old woodchuck's company wasn't considered at all. The plaintiff was simply "red eyed" for the woodchuck's skin, so a trap was set to catch the offender.

A cruel trap it was with yawning steel jaws hungry for the blood of the poor little trespasser.

The next morning my little brother came home in a great state of excitement conveying between gasps of hurried breaths that a "Terrible big 'chuck" had been caught in the trap and that he was a black and white one.

We both raced as fast as our short legs would carry us to the battle ground. The sight that met my eyes made me crouch beside a big rock some distance from the sufferer. With both little fore paws pinioned fast in the brutal trap, was a beautiful white and black animal with a lovely waving plume-like tail. His black eyes were dilated with pain and fear and he strggled with all his might to free himself from the thing that was torturing him, but it just wouldn't let go.

The belligerent party arrived on the scene and with a club crept forward to dispatch the animal but he reckoned without his host. As he lifted the club a stream of amber-coloured fluid struck him full in the face. The scent was stifling and terrible. The man, throwing both hands over his face, stumbled to the near-by stream wherein to bathe his burning eyes and clean his face from the stinking, acrid stuff. It was useless to wash his clothing. It never could be used again and a kindly burial was the only thing that remained to be done. With his fighting blood at the boiling point he returned to the scene of his discomfiture and dispatched the valiant little fighter, vowing vengeance on every "pesky skunk" in the country.

The Skunk is a courageous animal. He carries himself well and seems to be proud of his personal appearance. When full-grown he is about the size of a large cat. He is shaped more like the raccoon, his hind-quarters being his tallest point. This gives him the appearance of walking on his toes. He is plantigrade (flat-footed), like the bear family. His fur is a thick, glossy black, beautifully trimmed with snow-white. A narrow white ribbon separates his jet black nose. The back of his neck and shoulders are handsomely trimmed with the same pure white. He holds his handsome, plume-like tail, with its white tassel—like a big snow-ball stuck on the end of it—very high.

In habit he is not much given to walks during the day, but takes his exercise in the early morning and evening. Our musky friend is no vegetarian, his visits to the hen house is one of his worst crimes. He has a perfectly marvellous appetite for frogs, toads and serpents, with his pig-like snout sniffing cautiously he roots up snake and turtle eggs, which are a great luxury to him. He is ever on the look-out for wood mice and the eggs of birds that nest on the ground.

The babies are from six to ten in number and live in and around the burrow until the following spring. They appear to be full-grown at this time and make homes for themselves. When taken early, baby Skunks make fine pets. The Indians discovered that. So also has Dr. Merriam, who says, "They are cleanly, attractive, gentle, playful and affectionate." He writes: "These Skunks would climb up my legs and get into my arms. They liked to be caressed and never offered to bite."

Of his pet skunk "Meph" he writes: "After supper I commonly took a walk. Meph always followed close to my heels. If I chanced to walk too fast, he would scold and stamp his fore-feet; and if I persisted in keeping too far ahead, would turn about disgusted and make off in another direction. But if I stopped and called him, he would hurry along at an ambling pace and soon

Courtesy of the American Museum of Natural History

Mother Skunk has led her black and white children out of the burrow to take a peep at the world and perchance to catch a few grasshoppers. Papa Skunk sneaked out early and has brought the youngsters a fat, juicy mouse for a treat.

overtake me. We used to walk through the woods to a large meadow that abounded in grass-hoppers. Here Meph would fairly revel in his food and it was rich sport to watch his manœuvres. When a grasshopper jumped, he jumped, and I have seen him with as many as three in his mouth and two under his fore-paws at a time. He would eat so much that his over-distended little belly would drag upon the ground; and when so full he could eat no more, he would still catch and slay them. When so small he could scarcely toddle about, he never hesitated to tackle the large powerful beetle known as the 'horned bug,' and got many smart nips for his audacity. He was such a courageous little fellow it wasn't long before he learned to handle them with impunity, and it was very amusing to see him kill one. Ere many weeks he ventured to catch a mouse and the ferocity displayed in its destruction was truly astonishing. He devoured the entire body of his victim and growled and stamped his feet if any one came near before his repast was over."

The Skunk rarely uses its voice, although a baby Skunk gave Thoreau quite a severe talking to when he stood between it and its destination; writes Thoreau: "Saw a little skunk coming up the river bank in the woods by the white oaks. A funny little fellow about six inches long and nearly as broad. It faced me and actually compelled me to retreat before it for five minutes. Perhaps I was between it and its hole. Its broad, black tail, tipped with white, was erect like a kitten's.

"It raised its back, sometimes ran a few feet forward and a few feet backwards and repeatedly turned its tail to me, prepared to discharge its fluid like the old ones. Such was its instinct and all the while it kept up a fine grunting like a little pig or a red squirrel."

The Skunk is fearless and calm in the face of danger. He is a splendid digger and can burrow out of sight in a jiffy. His "artillery" is his chief weapon of defence. That musky secretion is most painful when coming in contact with the eyes and face. Dogs howl in agony when hit with it. All the Mustelidæ have a musky smell, the mink being equal to the skunk in this respect. In the far Northeast, he is known as the "essence peddler." Skunks are found throughout the temperate zone, northward to the Barren Lands, and in Alaska as far as the lower Yukon, and southward to Mexico. His enemies are the puma, lynx, wildcat, hawk and wolf, who stalk him for food, and man, who desires his beautiful fur and valuable oil.

The flesh is edible and is eaten by Indians and trappers. The white backed skunk of Central and South America is larger than our species; and a smaller specie is found in Texas and the Southwest and differently marked.