Afar in the Forest

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“I said that I would if you asked me, so they will not be expecting me at home again,” he answered.

In ten minutes we were on as friendly terms as if we had known each other all our lives. Next day we started with our guns, accompanied by Mike and Quambo, and our three dogs. The sky was bright, the air calm, and, except for the snow and the leafless trees, we might have supposed ourselves to have been in the middle of summer.

We had not gone far when we caught sight of an animal making its way along the trunk of a fallen tree. I soon recognised it to be a marten, and was just going to fire, when I perceived another creature coming out of a hole hard by. The former animal was evidently bent on attacking the latter. The marten immediately stopped, and carefully eyed the hermit, the character of which I could not at first make out on account of the distance it was from us. Quambo would probably have known, but he and Mike were some way behind us. Of the marten I had no doubt; I recognised it by its agile and graceful movements, by its length, which was about a foot and a half, with a bushy tail somewhat under a foot long, and by its dark tawny coat and white throat, its pointed muzzle, and bright and lively eyes. We stopped to watch what would take place, keeping back the dogs, which were about to rush forward and seize the animals.

The marten soon made up its mind to assault its opponent, which, instead of retreating into its hole, came boldly forward and ascended the fallen trunk. I at once saw that it was an “urson,” or porcupine; although my companion supposed it to be another animal, as he could not see the long quills with which the English porcupine is armed. This creature was fully two feet long. Its back was covered with thick hair of a dusky brown colour; its head was short, and its nose blunt; it had small round ears, very powerful teeth, short limbs, and feet armed with strong crooked claws. These particulars I was afterwards able to exhibit to him.

The porcupine stood eyeing its opponent for nearly a minute; then the marten began the attack by showing its teeth, erecting its hairs, and springing forward with graceful bounds. At the same time the porcupine, erecting an armour of quills, which had till then been concealed under its thick hair, appeared all at once to become twice its former size. The marten had too much impetus to stop its attempt to seize the porcupine by the snout; but the latter, suddenly whisking round, dealt the marten a tremendous blow with its tail, filling its body with short darts, and sending it off the trunk sprawling among the snow.

The marten was now animated by rage as well as by the desire to capture its foe. It again sprang up, ran along the boughs of the fallen tree, and advanced once more towards the porcupine; but its courage and agility did not avail it. Another blow from that formidable tail cast it once more into the snow; while the porcupine looked down with contempt on its defeated antagonist. Reuben, taking good aim with his rifle, put the marten out of misery; while I killed the victorious porcupine. The dogs then rushed forward; but Snap, the most eager, had reason to repent his eagerness, as before we could keep him off the animal he had received several sharp quills in his jaws. These we immediately extracted, but he never again attempted to seize either a living or a dead porcupine.

We killed another marten and some squirrels, and were returning home just at sundown, when we met Uncle Mark, who had followed our trail—no difficult thing to do over the snow, even for a white man. He had just before caught sight of an opossum, which had escaped him. It had evidently paid a visit to our poultry-yard a short time previously, and having succeeded in carrying off one of the inhabitants, was making its way with its prey to its mate or hungry family when Uncle Mark overtook it. He had knocked it over with his stick, and supposed it dying or dead, as it lay with open mouth, extended tongue, and dim eyes. At that moment he had caught sight of a marten or some other animal moving through the forest. The creature thereupon proved that it was only “’possuming;” for the instant his eye was withdrawn it sprang up, and set off at a rate which showed that its powers of locomotion, at least, had not been impaired by the blows it had received.

He was telling us this, when the dogs began to yelp, and presently right ahead of us appeared a creature of the size of a large cat.

“Dere a ’possum,” exclaimed Quambo; and we hurried after it with the dogs.

“Master ’Possum” was not going to be caught so easily, however. In an instant it was up a tree, and lost to sight amid the branches, while the dogs yelped around it.