The Skunk Man

You ever hear about the Skunk Man? No? Then I'll tell it to you the way it was told to me. I got it from the grandson of the Skunk Man's last partner, Jim-Bob Tucker. When Joe Thompson headed west that year, he was leading a mule train. They were packing everything he needed to set up a homestead for one man. ‘I've had enough of this racket,' he said. ‘Tis time to set down in one place now, till I dies.'

Joe had had his fair share of partners, alright. None of ‘em seemed to last long though. Joe always had some complaint or other, some reason to git rid of every one. They were either too lazy, too ornery to git along with, or dumb as a mule. Of course, everyone knew that the problem was Joe hisself. He was just too greedy.

You see, Joe Thompson was a prospector. He'd hire on with some outfit just long enough to earn the money for his next grub stake. Then he'd hitch up his mules and high tail it for some place in the mountains that he hadn't yet tried. Why, he must have blasted more holes in them mountains than a pack o' gophers in a meadow. Spent his whole life at it!

So, anyway, Joe was gettin' on in years and figured it was time to set down some roots. Said he was goin' to plant a garden and raise mules. Now, that made most folks think Joe had gone loco. There wasn't a lazy bone in his body but Joe tendin' a garden just didn't sound right. And besides, everyone knows ya can't breed mules ‘cause they can't produce no offspring.

After Joe had been gone a year, there was a few fellows got curious enough to go look for him. Sure enough, they found Joe living in a small one-room soddie, just on the outskirts of Juniper East. He had a garden - big enough to raise all the potatoes and corn he needed for hisself. He lived He also had a sod barn and a corral with six or seven young mules. There was no sign of prospecting or mining tools anywhere in sight. Them fellows was surprised alright but they figured Joe was doin' what he'd said he would.

The one thing they couldn't understand was the skunks! There were several dozen of ‘em tied to stakes all around his place. I'm sure you can imagine what the stink was like! Well, word got around. Some even said as how they saw Joe walking the skunks on a leash. Everyone kept their distance from Joe, ‘The Skunk-Man', after that - for about ten years.

By now, Jim-Bob Tucker's wife had passed on. His son and daughter had married and gone east. Jim-Bob got to thinkin' ‘bout his old partner and decided to see how he was doin'. He knew, from the descriptions he'd heard, that he was at the right place. The skunks were gone but he could see where they'd bin tied to and there was no sign of any mules. In fact, the place looked deserted. There was no sound when he called out so Jim-Bob went on in. He pushed open the door and, when his eyes got adjusted to the dim light, he started to laugh. And he laughed till he cried. Joe Thompson had bin smarter than any of them had guessed.

The soddie, which was built against a hill, had no back to it, just a big tunnel going back into the hill. At the mouth of the tunnel stood Joe's pick and shovel, and some other stuff. He'd found his gold alright and covered the mine by building a soddie over the entrance. The rest of it, the garden, the mules and skunks had been part of his plan.

Sadly, Joe Thompson's greed had done him no good in the end. No one knew what happened to him, but he could be lying under the rubble where part of the tunnel roof had collapsed. Joe had no family so Jim-Bob claimed the gold which he found in a wooden trunk, under a trap door in the soddie floor. Jim-Bob went east where he, his son and daughter, and their families lived in comfort for the rest of their lives.