The offensive odor was now so powerful in that vicinity that nearly all of the young hunters fell hack to another position some distance away.  In the meantime the skunk ran for the bushes and disappeared from view.

“Oh, dear!  Oh, this is—–­is fearful!” gasped Ham Spink, putting his thumb and forefinger to his nose.  “Wha-what am I to do?”

“Ham has caught it and no mistake!” whispered Snap.

“He’ll be as sweet as a bag of bone fertilizer after this,” was Shep’s comment.

“You’ll be able to smell him ten miles off,” vouchsafed Whopper.  “You’ll recognize him in the dark with your eyes closed.”

“Hi, you!  Don’t you make fun of me!” bawled the dudish youth, turning wrathfully on our friends.

“I hope the shooting was good, Ham,” said Snap, drily.

“Don’t be afraid to bury yourself, Ham, if you feel like it!” added Shep.

“I—–­I’ll bury you!” stormed the unfortunate youth.  “Oh, what a mess!” he groaned.  “Dick, what shall I do?”

“I don’t know,” was the answer.  “Only please keep away from me.  The—–­er—–­the odor makes me sick, really it does.”

“Huh!  I’m sick myself.  I didn’t know it was a skunk.  Why didn’t somebody warn me?”

“Take off your clothes and bury them,” suggested Giant.  “That sometimes takes the smell away.”

“Oh, hang the clothes!  I’ll burn them up!” growled Ham.  “What shall I do for myself?”

“Wash yourself with carbolic soap,” suggested Shep.

“I haven’t any.”

“Then take a mud bath,” came from Whopper.  “After that use common soap, and you’ll be rid of the worst of it.”

“I suppose you think you’ve got the laugh on me,” grunted Ham Spink.  He was about as angry and helpless as he could be.

“Oh, we are weeping for you, Ham!” said Shep.  “Come on, fellows!” and he started off and soon his friends followed him.

“Oh, but he does smell prime!” said Whopper, when they were out of bearing.  “He’d down a cologne factory in one round!”

“It is certainly awful!” answered Snap.  “It was too bad to spoil that nice suit of clothes.”

“I am thankful that we didn’t meet the skunk,” came from Giant.

“I remember meeting a skunk years ago—–­when I was a little boy,” said Shep.  “I thought it was a cat and wanted to pick it up.  I think the skunk was getting ready for me when our dog came along and scared the thing away.”

Ham Spink was indeed in a sorry plight.  The smell was so bad that none of his friends wanted to go near him, and they begged him to keep his distance.  In anger he stalked back to his camp, and there took off the almost ruined suit and buried it in the ground for forty-eight hours, which removed the worst of the odor.  Following the advice given, he washed himself in a mud paste, allowing the mud to dry on him at the heat of the fire.  Later he washed the mud off and used some heavily scented toilet soap, and thus removed the worst of the odor from his person.  But it was a good week before he felt as clean as he had previous to the encounter with the obnoxious animal.