The Babe thought deeply for a moment.
"And what would you do if a little, teeny, black-and-white striped skunk came at you?" he asked.
"Run like sixty!" responded Uncle Andy, still more promptly.
"But a skunk's so little!" persisted the Babe. "Will he bite?"
"Bite!" retorted Uncle Andy scornfully. "He doesn't have to. It appears to me you don't know skunks very well!"
"Huh!" said the Babe. "I've smelt 'em. But smells can't hurt anybody."
"With your notions of skunks," answered Uncle Andy, "you're going to get yourself into a heap of trouble one of these days. I'd better tell you about what happened once when a small young skunk, out walking all by himself in the dewy twilight, happened to meet a large young bear."
Now, the Babe had a great respect for bears.
"Huh!" said he scornfully. "What could he do to a bear?"
"The little skunk's name," said Uncle Andy, paying no heed to the interruption, "was Stripes Terror-Tail. He was a pretty fellow, black and glossy, with two clear white stripes down his back on each side of his backbone. His tail was long and bushy, and carried high in a graceful curve; and he was about the size of a half-grown kitten.