The boys heeded his warning, and saw a small black animal on one of the limbs. It seemed to be gnawing the bark, and was evidently entirely unaware of their approach.
“What is it?” asked Ed.
“Porcupine,” explained Bill.
“Can’t we go over to it?” pleaded George.
“We’ll try; I’d like you to see one close by,” and the trapper urged the canoe shoreward.
“‘What funny things you see when you haven’t got a gun,’” quoted Ed, laughing.
“And usually on Sunday,” added George, “when you couldn’t shoot if you had one.”
Bill handled the canoe carefully until he got it in line with a large tree, which shielded them from the sight of the porcupine. Then he dug his paddle hard into the water and sent the light craft toward the bank at top speed.
As the boys were scrambling hastily ashore, they heard a scratching of bark, followed by a peculiar, complaining sort of grunt, which apparently came from the direction of the hemlock.
“He’s climbing down! Hurry after him, he can’t run fast!” shouted Bill, as he jumped from the canoe.