THE NGOMBAS, OR PORCUPINES
One day two porcupines were getting ready to go out of their dark
burrow, to seek for food, for they were hungry. They were near the
entrance, and listened. Hearing no noise, and scenting no danger, one
said to his mate, “All is quiet; so we can safely leave our home.”
After they were out, they raised their quills, many of which were about
one foot long, hard and sharp, and shook them against each other and
made a rattling noise.
Then the big ngomba said to his mate: “Dear, we porcupines are not
blood-thirsty; we do not attack the animals of the forest, and drink
their blood, and feed upon them; neither do we fight them. We are
harmless. We feed on roots, nuts, and vegetable things. What a precious
gift our coat is! Its quills are our weapons of defence. No animals in
this great forest possess such a valuable coat. When we walk, our quills
lie quietly on our back or sides. When we fear danger, we roll ourselves
into a ball, and raise them upright, and we feel safe and fear no animal
of the forest, no matter how fierce he may be.”
His mate replied, thoughtfully, however: “You forget; there is one enemy
we have, and we dread him much, though he is very small. It is the
bashikouay ant. When they attack us, their number is so great that they
can penetrate between our quills, attack our bellies, which are not
protected, and our eyes, and well-nigh devour us. How we hate and fear
the bashikouays!”
The big porcupine that day went farther than usual from his burrow. He
heard heavy footsteps, and said to himself: “These are the footsteps of
the njokoo. Perhaps he is coming my way.” The footsteps came nearer and
nearer, and the porcupine rolled himself up, not daring to walk farther.
The njokoo came nearer, looked at him, and then stopped. The poor
porcupine, as he heard the footsteps of the elephant nearing him, stood
still, as if he were dead; but his quills were erect.
The njokoo looked at the ngomba, for he had never seen one before. He
was suspicious, and did not like the looks of his sharp-pointed quills,
and trumpeted, which meant: “I am not going to toss you about with my
trunk. I am not going to play ball with you. Neither will I trample upon
you, and try to crush your body under my feet. I do not fancy these
sharp-pointed quills. They would hurt my trunk if I got hold of you, and
lame me for life and perhaps cause my death if I trampled upon you. So
do not be afraid. I will not try to hurt you.”
After this the njokoo left, and for a while the porcupine could hear his
heavy footsteps or the cracking of saplings which he broke as he walked
through them.
The porcupine did not know what the trumpeting of the njokoo meant, and
did not know what the big and powerful njokoo said to him. But he had
been so scared by the elephant that he did not dare for a long while to
unroll himself and go about. At last, when he was sure that he was safe,
he continued his rambling in search of food.
He soon came to the den of two leopards who were out in search of prey
for their three baby leopards, who were walking round outside. As soon
as these saw the poor porcupine, they started for him, and he had just
time to roll himself up, for their steps were so light that he had not
heard them.
[Illustration: [Leopards]]
The little leopards were so young that they had no experience, and
thought they would play with the much-frightened porcupine with their
paws, just as a cat does with a mouse. But they did not try it twice,
when they felt the pricking of the porcupine’s quills.
As soon as the tiny little leopards went back to their den, the
porcupine unrolled himself and ran away as fast as his short legs would
let him. After he had settled down into a walk, he passed a big snake of
the color of the dead leaves, hiding among them and waiting for prey.
When he heard the noise the porcupine was making, he was delighted, for
he said, “Surely I am going to have something to eat;” but the porcupine
had not yet wholly got over his fright, and was walking with his quills
standing up. The snake, with his sharp, small eyes, said: “It is of no
use to try to swallow this creature, for his quills would pierce and
kill me. I shall let him alone.”
It was late, and though the porcupine was far away from his burrow, he
knew the way there well, for he was acquainted with the surrounding
country, and was in a hurry to go to meet his mate, whom he loved
tenderly.
Hurrying along, he suddenly heard a noise above his head, and, being
scared, he rolled himself once more and raised his quills. The noise had
been made by a ngina (gorilla) on a tree laden with fruit that he had
been eating, and he was coming down. The ngina was unaware of the
presence of the porcupine. He had reached the lower branch of the tree,
and was hanging to it before stepping on the ground. As his left arm was
ready to let the branch go, he stepped on the porcupine, and gave a
terrific yell of pain, as the quills went deeply into the sole of one of
his feet. Quick as a flash, he tried to take away the porcupine from his
foot with one of his hands. Then he gave another terrific groan of pain,
for some of the quills entered the palm of his hand. The blood was
dripping from both his hand and foot. Then, hanging to the branch he had
not quitted, he lifted himself up and shook his legs several times with
great force, and with a mighty kick sent the porcupine flying to a long
distance. The porcupine was terribly scared. Never in his life had he
been attacked and buffeted in this way. Nor had he ever heard such
terrific yells and groans.
[Illustration: [Gorilla]]
All his muscles were called into play in order to keep his body in
ball-shape and his quills standing upright, for the ngina was furious,
yelling and roaring by him; but fortunately he did not dare to handle
him, though the frightened porcupine thought his last day had come.
At last the ngina went away. The porcupine remained coiled for a long
time, for he had never been so frightened in his life. Then, when he
thought there was no more danger, having listened carefully and heard no
noise, he continued his way toward his burrow.
The porcupine met with no farther adventures on that day, and finally
came to his burrow and saw his mate waiting for him. She said, “What
makes you so late? I began to feel anxious.”
“Dear,” he replied, “I have had an awful time to-day. The wonder to me
is that I have come back at all. I have never met with so many
adventures and dangers in my life before; but, thanks to my wonderful
coat, I am safe.” And after they had retreated into their burrow, he
recounted to his mate what had happened to him during the day.