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Seton, Ernest Thompson, 1860-1946

"Being the adventures of two boys who lived as Indians and what they learned"

The Skunk recoiled and stared stupidly, but not long;
nothing was "long" about it. Her every superb muscle was tingling with
force and mad with hate as the mother Cat closed like a swooping
Falcon. The Skunk had no time to aim that dreadful gun, and in the
excitement fired a volley of the deadly musky spray backward,
drenching her own young as they huddled in the trail.
[Illustration: "The Cat and the Skunk"]
Tooth and claw and deadly grip--the old Cat raged and tore, the black
fur flew in every direction, and the Skunk for once lost her head and
fired random shots of choking spray that drenched herself as well as
the Cat. The Skunk's head and neck were terribly torn. The air was
suffocating with the poisonous musk. The Skunk was desperately wounded
and threw herself backward into the water. Blinded and choking, though
scarcely bleeding, the old Cat would have followed even there, but the
Kitten, wedged under the log, mewed piteously and stayed the mother's
fury. She dragged it out unharmed but drenched with musk and carried
it quickly to the den in the hollow log, then came out again and stood
erect, blinking her blazing eyes--for they were burning with the
spray--lashing her tail, the image of a Tigress eager to fight either
part or all the world for the little ones she nursed.


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