“There,” said Old Mother Nature, pointing to Prickly Porky the
Porcupine, “is next to the largest member of your order, which is?”
“Order of Rodents,” piped up Striped Chipmunk.
“He is not only next to the largest, but is the stupidest,” continued
Old Mother Nature. “At least that is what people say of him, though
I suspect he isn't as stupid as he sometimes seems. Anyway, he
manages to keep well fed and escape his enemies, which is more than
can be said for some others who are supposed to have quick wits.”
“Escaping his enemies is no credit to him. They are only too glad
to keep out of his way; he doesn't have to fear anybody,” said
Chatterer the Red Squirrel to his cousin, Happy Jack.
His remark didn't escape the keen ears of Old Mother Nature. “Are
you sure about that?” she demanded. “Now there's Pekan the Fisher-”
She was interrupted by a great rattling on the old stump. Everybody
turned to look. There was Prickly Porky backing down as fast as he
could, which wasn't fast at all, and rattling his thousand little
spears as he did so. It was really very funny. Everybody had to
laugh, even Old Mother Nature. You see, it was plain that he was
in a great hurry, yet every movement was slow and clumsy.
“Well, Prickly Porky, what does this mean? Where are you going?”
demanded Old Mother Nature.
Prickly Porky turned his dull-looking eyes towards her, and in them
was a troubled, worried look. “Where's Pekan the Fisher?” he asked,
and his voice shook a little with something very much like fear.
Old Mother Nature understood instantly. When she had said, “Now
there's Pekan the Fisher,” Prickly Porky had waited to hear no
more. He had instantly thought that she meant that Pekan was
right there somewhere. “It's all right, Prickly Porky,” said she.
“Pekan isn't anywhere around here, so climb back on that stump and
don't worry. Had you waited for me to finish, you would have saved
yourself a fright. Chatterer had just said that you didn't have
to fear anybody and I was starting to explain that he was wrong,
that despite your thousand little spears you have reason to fear
Pekan the Fisher.”
Prickly Porky shivered and this made the thousand little spears in
his coat rattle. It was such a surprising thing to see Prickly Porky
actually afraid that the other little folks almost doubted their own
eyes. “Are you quite sure that Pekan isn't anywhere around?” asked
Prickly Porky, and his voice still shook.
“Quite sure,” replied Old Mother Nature. “If he were I wouldn't
allow him to hurt you. You ought to know that. Now sit up so
that every one can get a good look at you.”
Prickly Porky sat up, and the others gathered around the foot of
the stump to look at him. “He certainly is no beauty,” murmured
Happy Jack Squirrel.
Happy Jack was quite right. He was anything but handsome. The
truth is he was the homeliest, clumsiest-looking fellow in all
the Green Forest. He was a little bigger than Bobby Coon and his
body was thick and heavy-looking. His back humped up like an
arch. His head was rather small for the size of his body, short
and rather round. His neck was even shorter. His eyes were small
and very dull. It was plain that he couldn't see far, or clearly
unless what he was looking at was close at hand. His ears were
small and nearly hidden in hair. His front teeth, the gnawing
teeth which showed him to be a Rodent, were very large and bright
orange. His legs were short and stout. He had four toes on each
front foot and five on each hind foot, and these were armed with
quite long, stout claws.
But the queerest thing and the most interesting thing about Prickly
Porky was his coat. Not one among the other little people of the
Green Forest has a coat anything like his. Most of them have a
soft, short under fur protected and more or less hidden by longer,
coarser hair. Prickly Porky had the long coarse hair and on his
back it was very long and coarse, brownish-black in color up to
the tips, which were white. Under this long hair was some soft
woolly fur, but what that long hair hid chiefly was an array of
wicked-looking little spears called quills. They were white to the
tips, which were dark and very, very sharply pointed. All down the
sides were tiny barbs, so small as hardly to be seen, but there
just the same. On his head the quills were about an inch long,
but on his back they were four inches long, becoming shorter
towards the tail. The latter was rather short, stout, and covered
with short quills.
As he sat there on that old stump some of Prickly Porky's little
spears could be seen peeping out from the long hair on his back,
but they didn't look particularly dangerous. Peter Rabbit
suddenly made a discovery. “Why!” he exclaimed. “He hasn't any
little spears on the under side of him!”
“I wondered who would be the first to notice that,” said Old Mother
Nature. “No, Prickly Porky hasn't any little spears underneath,
and Pekan the Fisher has found that out. He knows that if he can
turn Prickly Porky on his back he can kill him without much danger
from those little spears, and he has learned how to do that very
thing. That is why Prickly Porky is afraid of him. Now, Prickly
Porky, climb down off that stump and show these little folks what
you do when an enemy comes near.”
Grumbling and growling, Prickly Porky climbed down to the ground.
Then he tucked his head down between his front paws and suddenly
the thousand little spears appeared all over him, pointing in
every direction until he looked like a giant chestnut burr. Then
he began to thrash his tail from side to side.
“What is he doing that for?” asked Johnny Chuck, looking
rather puzzled.
“Go near enough to be hit by it, and you'll understand,” said Old
Mother Nature dryly. “That is his one weapon. Whoever is hit by
that tail will find himself full of those little spears and will
take care never to go near Prickly Porky again. Once those little
spears have entered the skin, they keep working in deeper and
deeper, and more than one of his enemies has been killed by them.
On account of those tiny barbs they are hard to pull out, and
pulling them out hurts dreadfully. Just try one and see.”
But no one was anxious to try, so Old Mother Nature paused only a
moment. “You will notice that he moves that tail quickly,” she
continued. “It is the only thing about him which is quick. When
he has a chance, in time of danger, he likes to get his head
under a log or rock, instead of putting it between his paws as he
is doing now. Then he plants his feet firmly and waits for a
chance to use that tail.”
“Is it true that he can throw those little spears at folks?”
asked Peter.
Old Mother Nature shook her head. “There isn't a word of truth in
it,” she declared. “That story probably was started by some one
who was hit by his tail, and it was done so quickly that the victim
didn't see the tail move and so thought the little spears were
thrown at him.”
“How does he make all those little spears stand up that way?”
asked Jumper the Hare.
“He has a special set of muscles for just that purpose,” explained
Old Mother Nature.
“When those quills stick into some one they must pull out of
Prickly Porky's own skin; I should think that would hurt him,”
spoke up Striped Chipmunk.
“Not at all,” replied Old Mother Nature. “They are very loosely
fastened in his skin and come out at the least little pull. New
Ones grow to take the place of those he loses. Notice that he
puts his whole foot flat on the ground just as Buster Bear and
Bobby Coon do, and just as those two-legged creatures called men
do. Very few animals do this, and those that do are said to be
plantigrade. Now, Prickly Porky, tell us what you eat and where
you make your home, and that will end today's lesson.”
“I eat bark, twigs and leaves mostly,” grunted Prickly Porky
ungraciously. “I like hemlock best of all, but also eat poplar,
pine and other trees for a change. Sometimes I stay in a tree for
days until I have stripped it of all its bark and leaves. I don't
see any sense in moving about any more than is necessary.”
“But that must kill the tree!” exclaimed Peter Rabbit.
“Well, what of it?” demanded Prickly Porky crossly. “There are
plenty of trees. In summer I like lily pads and always get them
when I can.”
“Can you swim?” asked Peter eagerly.
“Of course,” grunted Prickly Porky.
“I never see you out on the Green Meadows,” said Peter.
“And you never will,” retorted Prickly Porky. “The Green Forest
for me every time. Summer or winter, I'm at home there.”
“Don't you sleep through the cold weather the way Buster Bear and
I do?” asked Johnny Chuck.
“What should I sleep for?” grumbled Prickly Porky. “Cold weather
doesn't bother me. I like it. I have the Green Forest pretty much
to myself then. I like to be alone. And as long as there are trees,
there is plenty to eat. I sleep a great deal in the daytime because
I like night best.”
“What about your home?” asked Happy Jack.
“Home is wherever I happen to be, most of the time, but Mrs. Porky
has a home in a hollow log or a cave or under the roots of a tree
where the babies are born. I guess that's all I've got to tell you.”
“You might add that those babies are big for the size of their
mother and have a full supply of quills when they are born,” said
Old Mother Nature. “And you forgot to say how fond of salt you
are, and how often this fondness gets you into trouble around the
camps of men. Your fear of Pekan the Fisher we all saw. I might
add that Puma the Panther is to be feared at times, and when he
is very hungry Buster Bear will take a chance on turning you on
your back. By the way, don't any of you call Prickly Porky a
Hedgehog. He isn't any thing of the kind. He is sometimes called
a Quill Pig, but his real name, Porcupine, is best. He has no
near relatives. Tomorrow morning, instead of meeting here, we'll
hold school on the shore of the pond Paddy the Beaver has made.
School is dismissed.”