The Three Bears of Porcupine Ridge

by Jean M. Thompson

One autumn evening Unk-Wunk visited the marsh pool; his desire for a feast of lily roots, before the pool froze over, was keen upon him. To his dismay he found the pool already occupied by the blue heron family who were wading about upon their long, stilt-like legs for minnows or crawfish. Unk-Wunk realized well enough that he would be at the mercy of the herons’ long, sword-like beaks once he entered the water, so he just stood behind the shelter of a spruce bush and thought out a plan to get rid of the herons, and have the pool to himself.

Waddling clumsily back into the deep woods, Unk-Wunk found a bed of dry beech leaves, and then deliberately laying himself down among them, he rolled his spiky body back and forth among them until every quill held a leaf; he was completely coated over with dry leaves, so that even his head was concealed. Then he crept warily back toward the pool and suddenly uttering a loud “Unk-Wunk, Unk-Wunk,” he appeared right in plain view of the herons. Ordinarily the sight of a mere stupid hedgehog would never have stirred the wise herons, and they would simply have flown at him, flapping their great wings in his face, and sent him off. But as soon as they caught a glimpse of the strange appearing thing, all covered with leaves, and heard it actually cry out, with shrill, terrified screams they all spread their wings and flew off over the mountain, perfectly panic-stricken at the strange thing they had seen. It did not take the sly Unk-Wunk long to rid himself of the leaves, and plunge into the pool which he now had all to himself.

Now among the kindred of the wild Red-Brush, the Fox, is reckoned as the wisest of the wise. Still, in spite of his reputation for wisdom, he too had once been an easy mark for Unk-Wunk. In his travels Red-Brush was wont to seek his prey in all manner of curious places. He never failed to investigate hollow logs along the trail, for times without number he had run across an apparently vacant log, and discovered it to be occupied by a rabbit or some other easy prey.

Unk-Wunk had feasted well. A covey of partridges had strayed to his very door after beechnuts, and he had chanced to come home just in time to catch them. In vain did the brave little cock partridge drum at him, trying to mislead Unk-Wunk and turn his attention away from the mother partridge and her little brood, which scattered like fallen beech leaves in all directions. Unk-Wunk simply stood still and let the father Partridge bluster until he had become more emboldened by the seeming passivity of the hedgehog, which did not offer to molest him, and foolishly drew nearer, drumming in his very face, and so fell an easy prey to sly Unk-Wunk. After his feast all he desired was a safe, quiet spot to take a nap in. A hollow beech log lay conveniently at hand, and inside this Unk-Wunk crawled.

“Pat, pat, pat,” came Red-Brush the crafty one, swinging jauntily over the trail, even before Unk-Wunk had a chance to close his eyes. They had sighted the fox, however, long before he arrived at the log, and instantly Unk-Wunk changed his position inside the log. Turning about he took care to leave the mere tip of his tail showing from the entrance. Then, with his little dull eyes twinkling, grunting softly to himself over the cruel joke he would play upon sly Red-Brush, Unk-Wunk waited for him.

Red-Brush advanced very cautiously. Ah, surely something had moved inside the entrance of the log. Soon the inquisitive yellow eyes were close to the opening. A sudden swift slap, and Unk-Wunk had played his joke. He grunted derisively as the fox tore off back to his burrow with a snout full of terrible quills.

Everybody knows that in an actual trial of wits the fox might really outwit a hedgehog. Humiliated enough was Red-Brush at the mean joke which Unk-Wunk had played upon him, and made up his mind, fox fashion, that he would one day get even with him. At last he took to dodging the trail of Unk-Wunk, hoping to catch him napping, for he had conceived a plan. The longed-for opportunity came at last. Chancing to stroll to the pool, the fox concealed himself in a leafy thicket to wait for game, which often came to the pool, and peering out from behind the rushes whom should he see but Unk-Wunk grubbing for lily roots. The sly fellow finished his feast, and so gorged himself with his favorite delicacy that instead of going home he settled himself at the top of a hill, just above the pool, for a nap.

The golden eyes of Red-Brush never left him; he bided his time until the hedgehog was fast asleep, then stole softly to the top of the hill. Unk-Wunk lay curled there in a round ball, and Red-Brush, with a swift blow of his paw, started the ball rolling swiftly down-hill. Unk-Wunk would uncurl himself before he reached water, for this they always do; with a bound Red-Brush reached the pool ahead of the ball, and just as Unk-Wunk gave a swift twist of his body to uncurl, the jaws of Red-Brush snapped together with a click, finding the unprotected throat of the hedgehog, and Unk-Wunk, the cruel joker, had at last met his match.