126 SPECKLED TROUT. 



etc., beyond their reach, but of the prickly night- 

 walker himself we feared we should not get ? view. 



We had lain down some half-hour, and I was just 

 on the threshold of sleep, ready, as it were, to pass 

 through the open door into the land of dreams, when 

 I heard outside somewhere that curious sound, a 

 sound which I had heard every night I spent in these 

 woods, not only on this but on former expeditions, 

 and which I had settled in my mind as proceeding 

 from the porcupine, since I knew the sounds our 

 other common animals were likely to make, a 

 sound that might be either a gnawing on some hard, 

 dry substance, or a grating of teeth, or a shrill grunt- 

 ing. 



Orville heard it also, and, raising up on his elbow, 

 asked, " What is that ? " 



" What the hunters call a ' porcupig,' " said I. 



" Sure ? " 



" Entirely so." 



" Why does he make that noise ? " 



" It is a way he has of cursing our fire," I replied. 

 " I heard him last night also." 



" Where do you suppose he is ? " inquired my 

 companion, showing a disposition to look him up. 



" Not far of, perhaps fifteen or twenty yards from 

 our fire, where the shadows begin to deepen." 



Orville slipped into his trousers, felt for my gun, 

 and in a moment had disappeared down through the 

 scuttle hole. I had no disposition to follow him, but 

 wras rather annoyed than otherwise at the disturbance 



