Unattractive as the fretful porcupine appears when considered as a means
of satisfying man's hunger, it is hunted throughout North America for
the sake of its flesh, which forms an especially dainty dish, not only
in the opinion of the Indians, but in that of every European who has
partaken of it. The creature dwells in small caverns, either under a
pile of boulders, or amid the roots of large trees; but it also, with
its sharp claws, easily climbs up the trunks, and may sometimes be seen
reposing on their very summits, where it feeds on the bark of the young
branches, or the berries when they become ripe.
The Canadian porcupine is also known as the cawquaw or urson. It is
nearly four feet long altogether, the head and body measuring upwards of
three feet, while the tail is about three inches in length. It is less
completely defended with spines than the porcupines of other countries--
part of its body being covered with long, coarse brown hair, which
almost conceals the deeply-set, short, pointed quills, except those on
the head, hind-quarters, and tail. The spines are about three inches
long. When the animal is brought to bay, it sets them up in a fan-like
shape, and presents a formidable row of points turned towards its
opponent. When attacked, it defends itself with its thick, muscular
tail; and wherever it strikes, it leaves a number of its easily-detached
quills, with barbed points, sticking firmly in its opponent's body.
These spines are of a dull white colour, the points being dark. Awkward
as the porcupine looks, it can gallop along at considerable speed; and
when surprised, generally escapes to its rocky den--or if it gains a
tree, scrambles up the trunk at a rapid rate. A broad trail leads to
the porcupine's den, by which it is easily discovered, as also by the
ordure outside the entrance. A number of these paths lead from the den
to its feeding-ground: in the autumn to a beech grove, on the mast or
nuts of which it revels; and in the winter-time, to some tall hemlock or
spruce trees. The Indian hunter also discovers it by the marks of its
claws on the bark; and should he be unfortunate in his search for larger
game, he seldom fails to obtain a roast of porcupine. The creature is
hunted by the Indians with little dogs, which seem to take great delight
in the sport, and, in spite of the formidable weapons of their
opponents, will rush in and draw them out of their dens without injury
to themselves. Even the settlers' dogs exhibit the same strong fancy
for hunting porcupines, but are not so successful in coming off without
injury; indeed, they often issue from the combat covered over with
spines sticking in their flesh.
Captain Hardy gives us an anecdote of the extraordinary fancy the Indian
dogs have for hunting porcupines. One of these dogs was quite blind;
and yet, if the porcupine "treed," the little animal would sit down
beneath, occasionally barking to inform his master where lodged the
fretful one. Another dog was not to be beaten when once on a porcupine.
If the animal was in its den, in he went, and, if possible, would haul
it out by the tail; if not strong enough, his master would fasten a
handkerchief round his middle, and attach to it a long twisted withe.
The dog would go in, and presently, between the two, out would come the
porcupine.
By the end of the "fall," the animal becomes loaded with fat, from
feeding on the berries found in the "barrens." Its cry is a plaintive,
whining sound, not very dissimilar to that of a calf moose. The female
produces two at a birth early in the spring. The porcupine can easily
be tamed; and Audubon mentions one which was so entirely domesticated,
that it would come voluntarily to its master, and take fruit or
vegetables out of his hand, rubbing against him as does an affectionate
cat. The same animal, however, showed considerable courage. On one
occasion it was attacked by a ferocious mastiff. One morning the dog
was seen making a dash at some object in the corner of the fence. This
proved to be the tame porcupine, which had escaped from its cage. The
dog seemed regardless of all its threats, and probably supposing it to
be an animal not more formidable than a cat, sprang at it with open
mouth. The porcupine seemed to swell up, in an instant, to nearly
double its size; and as the dog sprang upon it, dealt him such a
sidewise blow with the tail, as to cause the mastiff to relinquish his
hold instantly, and set up a howl of pain. His mouth and nose were full
of quills. He could not close his jaws, but hurried, open-mouthed, off
the premises. Although the servants instantly extracted the spines from
the mouth of the dog, his head was terribly pierced, and it was several
weeks before he recovered. The porcupine, however, suffered severely
from the combat; and as the hot weather came on, showed great signs of
distress, and finally died of heat.
The quills of the porcupine are brilliantly stained by the Indians with
a variety of colours, and are extensively used by their squaws in
ornamenting with fanciful patterns the birch-bark ware which they sell
to the white settlers.