I have met in the wilderness several white men whose hobby was to raise strange pets, either for their own pleasure or to add a little to what ever income they derived from the country they lived in. But old C...
was the star of them all.
During all the years I have known him, I have never seen him once without some peculiar animal at his door step.
First it was a bear. The brute was full grown and tied to a tree by a chain. It allowed his master to stroke him but was dangerous to anyone else. It had made friends with a little Indian dog and used to sleep with the pup clasped between its front paws. After that, it was a family of skunks—a mother and five young ones. They were as tame as cats and roamed in and out of the shack at their own free will. It was a good thing that the neighbors were few and far between for, if the wood pussies did not pay the slightest attention to C..., on the other hand they resented bitterly the presence of any stranger on the premises.