An otter, when attacked, will defend itself with desperation, snapping furiously at the Indian, and then shaking its head violently as a dog does when destroying a rat. Their bite is severe—sufficient indeed to snap off a man’s finger—and when once its jaws are closed, no power is capable of making it

relinquish its grasp. The Canadians do not attempt to tame the otter; but the persevering Chinese not only contrive to domesticate the species found in their country, but teach them to capture fish for their benefit.

The Skunk.

Rambling amid the woods, even in the neighbourhood of settlements, we may occasionally come upon a curious little animal, with a party-coloured coat and bushy tail, and an amiable and gentle appearance. The creature appears to be in no way timid, and will very likely await our approach. As we draw near it, however, it is apt to turn round and erect its bushy tail perpendicularly. Let us beware of what we are about, for, in a moment, the creature may send over us a shower of a substance so horribly odious, that not only may we be blinded and sickened by the effluvium, but our clothes will be made useless, from the difficulty of getting rid of the odour.

The creature is the skunk, and is about the size of a cat. It possesses short round ears, black cheeks, and a white stripe extending from the nose to the back. The upper part of the neck and the whole back are white, divided by a black line. Below, it is black, as are the legs; and it has a full tail of coarse black hair, occasionally tipped with white. Its legs are short, and it does not possess much activity. Its feet are armed with claws, somewhat like those of the badger.

It appears to use this horrid effluvium—which is generated in glands near the tail—as a means of defence. All other animals have a due horror of it. Anything which it touches is tainted: provisions are destroyed; and clothes, though often washed, will retain the smell for many weeks. At one time this substance was used for medicinal purposes. The mode of defence bestowed on the skunk is somewhat similar to that employed by the cuttle-fish, which emits a dark liquor when pursued. Those who have once smelt the horribly fetid odour of the skunk will not easily forget it.

The Pekan, or Wood-Shock.

Still keeping to the lakes and streams, we may often fall in with a creature of curious habits, which, unlike those just described, lives almost entirely among the branches of the trees. In shape it is somewhat like a weasel, and is the largest of the tree martens. It is known as the wood-shock or pekan, and is also called the black cat, and fisher. This last term is inappropriate, as it is not in any way piscivorous. It is of a dark brown hue, with a line of black shining hair reaching from the neck to the extremity of the tail. The under parts are lighter; some entirely white. It possesses also a very large, full, and expressive eye.

Though spending its time among the trees, hunting for its prey, it forms a burrow in the ground for its usual habitation. It lives upon squirrels and rabbits, as well as grouse and other birds and their eggs. Not only does it venture to attack the well-armed porcupine, but it kills the animal, and eats it up, quills and all. The difficulty of accomplishing this appears very great, but there are numerous instances in which pekans have been killed, when their bodies were found full of quills, from which they did not appear to have suffered. They eat up, indeed, both the flesh and bones of the porcupine—the latter being so strong that a small bird cannot crack them. Mr Downs, the naturalist of Nova Scotia, states that he has frequently found porcupine quills in the stomach of the fisher.