Skunked! Read Online Free PDF Page A

the train, none of my brothers or I had seen it.
    â€œBut the tide turned at the Battle of San Jacinto on April 21, 1836. That’s where our own General Sam Houston led his ragged army of volunteers against the much larger Mexican forces commanded by General Santa Anna.”
    Then something happened that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up: Travis’s satchel moved. On its own. Which satchels aren’t supposed to do.
    The flap lifted an inch, then fell shut. Then it lifted a couple of inches and fell shut. It lifted a third time and, to my horror, out poked a pointy black muzzle with twitching whiskers.
    Miss Harbottle grew louder as she got to the exciting parts of the battle.
    Then to my double horror, another, smaller black muzzle poked out beside the first one. The mind reeled. I couldn’t believe it.
    â€œTravis,” I hissed, “what have you done?”

    â€œHuh?”
    â€œYou can’t bring skunks to school.”
    He looked down just in time to stop them making their escape. He gently nudged them back with his foot. I glanced around. Nobody seemed to have noticed. All eyes were on Miss Harbottle.
    I whispered, “Have you lost your mind?”
    He turned halfway in his chair and murmured, “Winky stopped eating. I couldn’t just leave him at home; he’s way too skinny. I’m trying to tempt his appetite with raisins. Normally he’s a real raisin hog, but for some reason he won’t eat them.”
    â€œBut both? You had to bring them both ?”
    A couple of students glared at us.
    â€œI couldn’t separate them. They get so upset.”
    â€œYou get them out of here right now.”
    Lula elbowed me to be quiet.
    I thought fast and hard. Maybe I could scoop up the satchel and run for the door. And keep running all the way back to the barn. But what would Miss Harbottle say about my behavior? I’d have to plead illness. And what would my parents do? It would mean the cod-liver oil or the doctor. Was it worth it? To save Travis from his overwhelming love of animals and his own incredibly stupid decision?
    I weighed my choices.
    Miss Harbottle said, “General Houston led his soldiers on their surprise attack, crossing the high grass fields around the Mexican camp. General Santa Anna was so confident of victory that he had not posted any sentries to keep watch during their afternoon siesta. The Texians were only yards away when they opened fire, shouting, ‘Remember the Alamo! Remember Goliad!’”

    She jumped and screamed at the top of her lungs: “ Eeeeeeee! ”
    We all jumped along with her.
    She ran to the corner for the broom and held it up before her like a rifle. Gosh! Her re-enactment was so vivid and thrilling. Why couldn’t all our lessons be like this? Instead of droning on about five times five—
    â€œSkunks!” she yelled. “Skunks!”
    I looked down. Stinky and Winky were scurrying between the desks and heading right for her.
    She might as well have yelled “Bomb!” for the effect it had. Piercing screams filled the air. The students erupted in panic. They started rushing for the door and dropping books and knocking over chairs.
    â€œTravis,” I yelled, “ do something.”
    â€œDo? What should I do?”
    â€œ Get them.”
    Stinky had made it to Miss Harbottle’s desk, where he hunkered down underneath in safety. Winky, slower and confused by the noise, didn’t get there in time. Miss Harbottle jabbed him with the broom and moaned, “Go away, you. Oh, please go away.”
    â€œNo, don’t,” pleaded Travis, “please don’t upset them.”
    I also could have told Miss Harbottle that upsetting a skunk was not the best course of action and that she should just stay calm and be still, but she was from the big city of Austin and had never had to face down multiple skunks before. She took a swipe at Winky and sent him skidding into