TWO DIANAS IN ALASKA 271 



very breath of the wilderness, freed of aught that is 

 in civilization counted as unspeakable. 



One fine evening I shot a porcupine. I slew him as 

 he made a meal of a piece of bark gnawed from off a 

 cotton wood-tree. My quarry made no attempt to 

 get away, or to conceal itself, trusting to its deadly 

 quills, I conclude, for protection. They were very 

 much in evidence, and their serrated edges were ready 

 and waiting for immediate reprisals. The natives told 

 me that as winter approaches the porcupine in these 

 regions acquires a long growth of hair, which conceals 

 the quills entirely. 



Ned carried my trophy back to camp by fastening 

 it to a stout bough, which he carried across his 

 shoulder, and the prickly porcupine swung to and fro 

 a few inches from my henchman's back. All the way 

 home I thought how best to make an appetizing meal 

 of this innovation in our larder. One always hears of 

 this Northern porcupine as being such a delicacy, 

 especially in autumn and winter when they are very 

 fat. 



I was like Brillat-Savarin and his first wild turkey- 

 cock. 



" I," said he, " was lost in profound reflection, and 

 I thought of how I should cook my turkey-cock." 



I wrestled with a similar problem with regard to my 

 trophy, and went on puzzling as to the most reason- 

 able manner of cooking it, until it was time to intro- 

 duce it to the fire somehow or other. Finally the 

 animal was stewed to a condition resembling leather, 

 and it was a mass of little sinews of the toughest 



