Chapter 30 - The Adventures of a Lost Family in the Wilderness by Mayne Reid
The Biters Bit
“Our next was a fishing excursion. As I have said, Cudjo had already discovered that our stream contained fish, and had caught several of them. They were something like bass, although differing considerably from the common species. Nevertheless they were very delicious eating, and we were all very fond of them.
“We set forth in the morning, but on this occasion we left Pompo and his cart behind, as we had not far to go—only a short distance down the stream, where Cudjo knew a large pool in which the fish were plenty. We took with us lines, made out of the wild flax that grows in the valley, and which, Mary tells us, is found in all countries that border upon the Rocky Mountains. Our rods were long tapering canes such as grew in abundance around us. For hooks we used pins bent into the proper shape; and our bait consisted of a variety of worms. All these things were carried by Harry and Frank, while Cudjo and I took the younger ones in our arms, and Mary was left free to botanise as we passed along. Castor and Pollux accompanied us of course; and Pompo, as he saw us leave the house, ran neighing around his enclosure, as if quite vexed at our leaving him behind. Cudjo, of course, became our guide, taking us through the woods to that part of the stream where was his favourite fishing-ground.
“After travelling at our leisure about a quarter of a mile, we were all brought to a sudden halt by an exclamation from my wife, who stood pointing at some trees a little to one side of the path.
“‘What, mamma!’ cried Harry, ‘another fine tree? Why, the real bread-fruit and the cocoa-nuts will turn up yet, I believe, in spite of our latitude.’
“‘I am sorry for your sake, Harry,’ replied his mamma, ‘as well as our own, that I have not made the discovery of another fine tree. No, it is quite another thing, and not a very useful discovery. But it may be curious to you; and papa, here, can read you a chapter of natural history upon it. It is in his line. It is a four-footed animal.’
“‘Animal!’ exclaimed Harry; ‘I see no animal. Where is it, mamma?’
“‘Nor do I,’ replied his mother; ‘but I see indications of the presence of one, and a very destructive one, too. Look there!’
“As Mary said this, she pointed to a grove of young cotton-wood trees, from which the bark and leaves were stripped off as cleanly as if they had been gnawed by goats, or scraped with a knife. Some of the trees were quite dead, while others of them were freshly peeled, and only waited for a little time to go to decay also.
“‘Oh, I see what you mean now, mamma,’ said Harry. ‘Some animal has done this—but what one? The beavers cannot climb; and I am sure neither squirrels, raccoons, nor opossums, would take the bark from trees in that manner.’
“‘No; it was none of them. Your papa can best inform you what sort of animal has been so destructive to these young trees, which, you perceive, are of the beautiful cotton-wood species,—the populus angulatus of botanists.’
“‘Come, Harry,’ said I, ‘let us first find the animal if we can.’
“We all turned toward the leafless grove. We had not walked many steps in that direction, when the very animal we were in search of appeared on the ground before us. It was quite three feet long, thick, broad in the back, and arched from the nose to the tail. It was of a speckled grey colour, but with the roughest coat of hair that could possibly be imagined. Its head and nose were very small for the size of its body; and its short, stout legs, with their long claws, were scarcely visible under the thick, shaggy hair. Its ears were also buried under the hair; and it looked more like a round tufted mass than an animal. It was down upon the ground; and had evidently perceived our approach, as it was making off through the grass as fast as it could. That, however, was not very fast—not faster than a frog could go—for the animal in question is one of the very slowest travellers.
“As soon as I caught sight of it, and saw that it was upon the ground—and not among the branches, where I had expected to find it—I turned round to secure the dogs. I was too late, for these unreasoning animals had already seen it, and, forgetful of the lesson which the skunk had taught them, were dashing forward in full cry. I endeavoured to call them off; but, heedless of our shouts, both rushed on the strange creature at once. The latter, seeing them approach, immediately stopped, buried its head under its breast, seemed suddenly to swell upward and outward to twice its natural size—while its rough thick tail was brandished from side to side in a furious and threatening manner.
“We could all now see that that which had appeared to be coarse thick hair was nothing else than long bristling spines, and Harry at once cried out,—
“‘A porcupine! a porcupine!’
“The dogs, unfortunately for themselves, did not know what it was; nor did they stop to consider, but lashed upon it open-mouthed, as they usually do with any strange animal. They did not hold it long; for the next moment they dropped it, and came running back more open-mouthed than ever—uttering the most piteous howls—and we saw that their noses, lips, and jaws, were sticking full of the sharp quills! Meanwhile the porcupine again stretched himself out; and, crawling to the foot of a tree, commenced climbing up. But Cudjo, who was highly incensed with the treatment which his favourites had received, rushed after; and, knocking down the animal with his spear, soon despatched him.
“Harry, who had grown much wiser since his adventure with the skunk, was rather shy of approaching the porcupine—particularly as he had heard that this animal possesses the power of shooting his quills to some distance, and sticking them like arrows into his enemies. Frank inquired if this were true.
“‘No,’ I replied; ‘it is only one of those fabulous stories which the ingenious French naturalist, Buffon, so much delighted to recount. The porcupine’s quills may be pulled out easily by anything which presses too rudely against them, such as the mouth of a mastiff; and this because they are very slightly attached by their roots, and have a barb upon their tops that takes hold upon any enemy that may attempt to touch them. This is the only defence the poor animal has got—as it is so slow of foot that any of its enemies can easily come up with it. But, notwithstanding its slowness, most of the fierce creatures find it better to leave the porcupine to himself, and his innocent occupation of “barking” the trees. He generally proves more than a match for any of them; and, in fact, neither wolf, panther, nor wildcat, can kill him—as there is not a spot of his body which they can touch when he prepares himself for their attack. On the other hand, he frequently kills them—only in self-defence, however, as he never attacks any animal, but lives altogether on his simple food, the bark and leaves of trees. The cougar is often found dead in the woods,—his death occasioned by the porcupine’s quills that are seen sticking in his mouth and tongue. So also the lynx has been found, as well as many dogs and wolves.’
“So much of the natural history of this strange animal I related to my companions at the time; but, shortly after, an incident was witnessed by Harry and myself which showed us that the porcupine, notwithstanding his bristling armour, had one enemy, at least, who could master him upon occasions. Although it occurred some months after our fishing excursion, now that we are speaking of the porcupine, I shall relate it.”