near my cabin considered me a good neighbour. One mated pair lived near me for three years. These gave me good glimpses of skunk life. Their clothes were ever clean and bright; often in front of the den I stood near while they polished their shining black and white fur. A few times I saw the old ones carry grasshoppers and mice into the den for the waiting little ones. A few times I saw the entire family start afield—off for a hunt or for fun.

The last time I saw this pair before the old spruce blew over and ruined their den, both mother and father were out playing with the children. She was shooing and brushing the little skunks with her tail, and they were trying to grab it. He was on his back in the grass, feet in the air, with two or three youngsters tossing and tumbling about on his kicking feet.

Skunks have a home territory—a locality in which they may spend their lives. The territory over which skunks hunt or ramble for amusement is about a thousand feet in diameter. Rarely were tracks five hundred feet from the dens of the several families near me. But twice a skunk had gone nearly a mile away; both of these were outings, evidently pleasure trips and not hunts.

Once when a Mr. and Mrs. Skunk wandered up the mountainside seeking adventure and amusement I trailed them—read their record in the snow. They climbed more than two thousand feet among the crags and explored more than a mile into the wilderness. They found and ate a part of the contents of a mouse nest. They killed other mice and left these uneaten. This outing was a frolic and not a foraging expedition.

Homeward, Mr. and Mrs. Skunk chose a different route from the one taken in going up the mountain. They travelled leisurely, going the longest way, pausing at one place to play and at another to sit and possibly to doze in the sunshine.