THE FRETFUL PORCUPINE 89 



that our canoe had scattered were re-gathered from 

 amongst the river sedges by the eager quacking of 

 the mother bird. The musical call of the whipoorwill 

 evoked answers from the very heart of the forest : 



m 



The notes, oft repeated, still remain with me. 

 Ellick had spread a bed of balsam beneath my 

 blankets. It is a species of pine where the needles 

 run in straight lines, and do not prick or become 

 bulky. There is an aromatic odour about it which 

 is delightfully pleasant and said to be soporific, a 

 medicine wholly supererogatory .as far as I was 

 concerned. I had scarcely put my head down when 

 I was off. 



How long I slept I know not, but I was awaked 

 by a sound like a stick drawn sharply round the 

 canvas of the tent. " What is it, Ellick } " I asked. 

 There was a feeble answer in which I caught the first 

 and last syllables, por — pine. Porcupines ! The 

 Indian had taken the precaution to bring our pro- 

 visions into the tent. But in the morning I learned 

 that, to get at the food at the head of Ellick's bed, 

 they walked over my person, and returned by the 

 same route. I neither heard nor felt them. It may 

 have been the effect of the aromatic balsam, but an 

 earthquake would not have disturbed my repose. 



