THE PORCUPj^Tfi :r*V*:*;:\ 



shoe and stocking, I searched for the cause of 

 the paralyzing pain. The foot was free from 

 mark or injury, but what was that little thorn or 

 fang of thistle doing on the ankle ? I pulled it 

 out and found it to be one of the lesser quills of 

 the porcupine. By some means, during our " cir- 

 cus," the quill had dropped inside my stocking, 

 the thing had " taken," and the porcupine had 

 his revenge for all the indignities we had put 

 upon him. I was well punished. The nerve 

 which the quill struck had unpleasant memories 

 of it for many months afterward. 



When you come suddenly upon the porcupine 

 in his native haunts, he draws his head back and 

 down, puts up his shield, trails his broad tail, and 

 waddles slowly away. His shield is the sheaf of 

 larger quills upon his back, which he opens and 

 spreads out in a circular form so that the whole 

 body is quite hidden beneath it. The porcu- 

 pine's great chisel-like teeth, which are quite as 

 formidable as those of the woodchuck, he does 

 not appear to use at all in his defense, but relies 

 entirely upon his quills, and when those fail him 

 he is done for. 



I once passed a summer night alone upon the 

 highest peak of the Catskills, Slide Mountain. I 

 soon found there were numerous porcupines that 

 desired to keep me company. The news of my 



