He stamped sharply with his forefeet. This had been sufficient warning for the farmer's dog but, though the fox looked uneasy, he clung to the duck. Surprised, the skunk raised his plumy tail like a flag of battle. The fox backed an inch, keeping his eyes on the enemy, but still inclined to ignore the hint. Amazed at this defiance, the skunk glared at him a moment. There was no need of further demonstration, however. The courage of the fox seemed suddenly to fail, for he relinquished his hold upon the duck and fled, not pausing until he had put the ridge between himself and the dangerous black and white poultry thief. The victor then calmly picked up his prize and retired to his den among the rocks, where he feasted royally. The next sunshiny day found the skunk abroad. Though the snow-crust had frozen once more, and the air was biting cold, there was a feeling in the atmosphere which stirred the blood of the skunk. He stepped blithely forth, gobbling up a plump wood mouse that had rashly ventured forth from its safe retreat under the snow. High up in a sapling a fat porcupine swayed contentedly with the motion of the branches as he uttered a peculiar sound between a grunt and a squeal. It was his "Spring Song" and, though to sensitive ears it might have been entirely lacking in melody, to the ears of the forest world it was sweetest music, for it presaged the breaking up of winter. The skunk paused a moment to gaze up at the contented little beast, then went on his way strangely light of heart. Meanwhile, a gaunt gray form was drifting southward through the forest, its passing as silent as a shadow. The lone wolf, having been injured and separated from the pack, had found it increasingly difficult to secure food. Now, emboldened by hunger, he had thrown caution to the winds and was about to invade the haunts of man, and that in broad daylight. Suddenly the wolf paused, his uplifted muzzle searching the breeze. Then, his eyes glowing with a fierce fire, he glided forward, a sinister shadow. Between the trees a short distance away he had glimpsed a small black and white animal trotting down the trail. It was Pal, returning from an excursion of his own into the woods. For a short distance the wolf slipped along parallel to the dog, but to leeward so that no scent betrayed his presence. Several times he could have sprung upon his unsuspecting prey, but caution restrained him. He had seen Pal before but always protected by a man with a heavy club or gun. Now, though the man was not visible, the wolf was suspicious, and not inclined to rush into danger. It was not long, however, before he decided that the Hermit was not about. Gradually he closed in, and Pal, for the first time scenting this deadly enemy, gave a frightened bark, then bravely turned at bay with his back against a tree. He was no match for the wolf and all would have been over in a moment had not the big skunk unwittingly stepped between them.