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Updated: May 9, 2025
And then there are the windfalls and the old burnings, where the sun beats fiercely down among the fallen trees till the blackened soil is hot as a city pavement, and where dead trunks and half-burned logs lie thrown together in the wildest confusion places which are almost impassable for men, and which even the land-lookers avoid whenever they can, but which a cat will thread as readily as the locomotive follows the rails.
At other times there were from one to half a dozen porkies in the trees close by, and when they happened to feel like it they would call back and forth to each other in queer, harsh, and often querulous voices. One afternoon, when he and another porcupine were occupying trees next each other, two land-lookers came along and camped for the night between them.
The porcupine not ours, but the other one had caught the fragrance of coffee and bacon. Here were new odors different from anything that had ever before tickled his nostrils strange, but indescribably delicious. He waited till the land-lookers were snoring, and then he started down the tree. Half-way to the ground he encountered the cloud of smoke that rose from the camp-fire.
Next morning the land-lookers had porcupine soup for breakfast, and they told me afterward that it was very good indeed. Our Porky had seen it all. He waited till the men had tramped away through the woods, with their packs on their backs and their snow-shoes on their feet, and then he, too, came down from his tree on a tour of investigation.
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