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PRANKS OF 
one day and left a bit of fixing solution in 
a crock, outside the tent. A porcupine 
came along in the night and drank this 
up clean. They did not find him, so it is 
not known whether he was well fixed after 
taking his medicine. 
In this connection I reprint a portion of 
an article on the porcupine which was 
written by S. N. Leek, of Jackson, Wyo., 
and which appeared in Recreation for 
June, 1900: 
Some years ago it was a common oc- 
currence to have to catch both cattle 
and horses and pull porcupine quills 
out of their noses or out of the heels of 
the horses. They probably would try to 
smell Porky and get within reach of his 
unerring tail. This led ranchmen to kill 
all the porcupines they saw, which has 
materially reduced their numbers. I 
have seen a horse step on a porcupine 
in a trail overgrown with grass and get 
all his legs full of quills. Once a friend 
dismounted from his horse to photo- 
graph a Porky. The beast made.a break 
for cover, which happened to be the 
doctor’s horse that was quietly gazing 
near. On feeling something prick his 
leg the horse struck out and kicked 
poor Porky, transferring the quills to 
his own legs. 
One spring while hunting bear at the 
foot of the Teton mountains I saw more 
porcupines than ever before or since. 
We usually put everything they could 
harm in the tent, but one night, coming 
in late, I forgot my saddle. They didn’t 
eat it quite up, but nearly so. The next 
evening, in walking around camp, I 
met 8 of them coming in to finish the 
saddle. Of*course*l turned them down. 
One day while going along the road 
I passed the carcass of a horse that had 
died the fall before, and there were 8 
Porkies gnawing at the bones. Farther 
on I saw 10 of them at work at one time 
on the bones of an elk. 
I put in a small saw mill at the foot 
of the Tetons and there we had trouble 
with the porcupines. We could not 
sleep while one was gnawing at the cor- 
ner of the house. We would stand it 
as long as we could; then someone 
would get up, steal outdoors and whack 
him. It is wonderful what pounding 
they can stand. One night while alone 
at the mill I killed 7, and about mid- 
PORCUPINES. 
night I got 3 more. The first one in 
front of the door on the porch gnawing. 
I got him. Then I heard one on a big 
box beside the door. He was eating a 
saddle blanket. I got him also, and was 
about to go in when I nearly ran my 
face against a big one clinging to the 
porch post, on a level with my head. 
He gave me such a start I missed him 
with an iron rod I had and _ nearly 
knocked the post out, but I got him the 
next trip. 
We never found anything they 
wouldn’t eat. They gnawed the whole 
end off the little porch we had on the 
house. At the creek where we washed 
they took the soap we left lying on the 
bank. A bar of soap just makes a 
porky a lunch. All tools had to be put 
in the house or the porcupines would 
eat the handles; and for saddle blankets 
or harness they had a weakness. The 
men working the road had their shovel 
and pick handles gnawed, all over and 
the plow handles nearly eaten up by 
porcupines. A man who left a wagon 
box on the Teton pass had one corner 
of it eaten entirely out and a hole 18 
inches across cut through the bottom. 
In skinning bears, mountain lions, 
lynx, wolverines and coyotes I have 
found porcupine quills embedded in the 
flesh. Once in skinning a mink I found 
him full of quills; but he had probably 
got too close by mistake. I have seen 
dogs get quills in them by rolling where 
a porcupine had been killed. 
The porcupine makes several different 
noises. One is a sort of singing made 
when the old and young ones are out 
together. Once I slipped out from 
camp about sundown, with my rifle, 
across a small meadow and through the 
woods 300 or 400 yards, after a strange 
calling noise I heard, to find it was a 
porky who was probably lonesome. 
I have seen these animals voluntarily 
swim a creek 75 feet wide. They seem 
to hear better than they see. A porky 
will either raise his quills and sit where 
he is, disdaining to run, or will make 
for cover, get to a log, stick his head 
under it and flirt his tail at anything 
that comes within striking distance: 
or he will climb a tree. 
Verily, the quill pig is an amusing little 
cuss. 
“Have you submitted this poem to any- 
one else?” 
“No, sir.” 
“Then where did you get that black eye?” 
—Life. 
421 
