CHAPTER XXV

SKOBIA THE SKUNK

Quite an interesting legend is the one describing how Skobia the Skunk came to be so small as he is:

A long time ago there lived a pole-cat who was the parent of all the race of skunks. He was a great skunk. In size he approached the cinnamon bear; his perfume was strong in proportion, while his tread was correspondingly heavy and loud. Many were the nightly visits of “Skobia,” as the skunk is called by the Indian, to their camps and great was the damage to life and comfort caused by him.

The Indians were at a loss to know what to do with Skobia, but at length they thought of old S’Beow and sent for him. Upon his arrival on the scene S’Beow caused them all to get in a great potlatch house, a large building used by the Indians of the Northwest coast on their ceremonial occasions. Then they all set themselves to cutting a big pile of vine maple wood and bringing it into the potlatch house. At length when a sufficient pile of wood had been gathered together they built a great and very hot fire of the wood. They fastened up all the doors and each Indian cut himself a cudgel about six feet long. All but old S’Beow went to bed and pretended to be asleep.

Along about midnight, after the fire had burned to a bed of live coals the heavy tread of Skobia was heard approaching the potlatch house. To illustrate the heavy tread of Skobia, the Indian will get down on all fours and slap the palm of his hands heavily on the ground after the fashion of the bear, skunk, weasel and other flat-footed quadrupeds.

Skobia came to the door and demanded admittance, but no one paid any attention to him. He then begged of them and plead with them and told them that he was their friend and wanted to come in to see them. At length old S’Beow pretended to rouse up and, like one just waking from a deep sleep, he stretched and yawned and inquired of Skobia what he wanted. “I am your friend and I want to come in and visit you,” replied Skobia.

“You’re a skunk and will stink us out!” said old S’Beow. “I’m your friend! I won’t hurt you,” replied Skobia. At last S’Beow told Skobia how he might enter the house. Skobia was advised to go up on the roof, blindfold himself and just reach his toes down through the opening in the smoke hole so that S’Beow could catch hold of them. He did so and S’Beow caught hold of them and quickly opened up the smoke hole and threw Skobia down on the bed of burning coals.

The Indians then who pretended to have been asleep all this time, but who had not been asleep at all, sprung to their feet, grabbed their cudgels and turned Skobia over and over on the live coals and they kept turning him over, and turning him over, and Skobia kept growing smaller, and growing smaller, a long time until he was no larger than a rat and would not stink enough to hurt anybody. They then opened the door, kicked him out and ever since then the skunk has been a very small animal and no Indian has been afraid of him.