"The Little Sly One had never heard tell of catnip, but she knew right off it was something good for every kind of cat. When she had had _quite_ enough of it, she felt kind of light and silly, and not afraid of anything. So, as bold as you please, she marched right up to the cabin. "The door was shut. She climbed upon the roof. There was an old bark chimney, with a great hole rotted in its base. She looked in. "It was pleasantly shadowy inside, with a musty smell and no sign of danger. She dropped upon a narrow shelf. From the shelf, sniffing and glancing this way and that, she sprang to a kind of wider shelf close under the eaves. "That was a bunk, of course, where one of the lumbermen used to sleep, though _she_ didn't know _that_. It was full of old dry hay, very warmy and cozy. And the hay, as the Little Sly One observed at once, was full of mice. "She pounced on one at once and ate it. Decidedly, this was the place for her. She curled herself up in the warm hay and went to sleep without fear of any enemies coming to disturb her." "But what would she do when the lumbermen came back?" demanded the Babe anxiously. "By _that_ time," answered Uncle Andy, putting away his pipe and rising to go, "she would no longer be the _Little_ Sly One! She'd be big enough to take care of herself--and run away as soon as she heard them coming." CHAPTER XIV THE DARING OF STRIPES TERROR-TAIL "What would you do if a bear came at you, Uncle Andy?" inquired the Babe. "Run," said Uncle Andy promptly, "unless I had a gun!" 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.