.

"And then shoot them at more travelers? No; that won't do. You must
promise me to stop throwing quills at people."

"I won't promise anything of the sort," declared Chiss.

"Why not?"

"Because it is my nature to throw quills, and every animal must do what
Nature intends it to do. It isn't fair for you to blame me. If it were
wrong for me to throw quills, then I wouldn't be made with quills to
throw. The proper thing for you to do is to keep out of my way."

"Why, there's some sense in that argument," admitted the Shaggy Man,
thoughtfully; "but people who are strangers, and don't know you are
here, won't be able to keep out of your way."

"Tell you what," said Scraps, who was trying to pull the quills out of
her own body, "let's gather up all the quills and take them away with
us; then old Chiss won't have any left to throw at people."

"Ah, that's a clever idea. You and Ojo must gather up the quills while I
hold Chiss a prisoner; for, if I let him go, he will get some of his
quills and be able to throw them again."

So Scraps and Ojo picked up all the quills and tied them in a bundle so
they might easily be carried. After this the Shaggy Man released Chiss
and let him go, knowing that he was harmless to injure anyone.

"It's the meanest trick I ever heard of," muttered the porcupine
gloomily. "How would you like it, Shaggy Man, if I took all your shags
away from you?"

"If I threw my shags and hurt people, you would be welcome to capture
them," was the reply.

Then they walked on and left Chiss standing in the road sullen and
disconsolate. The Shaggy Man limped as he walked, for his wound still
hurt him, and Scraps was much annoyed because the quills had left a
number of small holes in her patches.

When they came to a flat stone by the roadside the Shaggy Man sat down
to rest, and then Ojo opened his basket and took out the bundle of
charms the Crooked Magician had given him.

"I am Ojo the Unlucky," he said, "or we would never have met that
dreadful porcupine. But I will see if I can find anything among these
charms which will cure your leg."

Soon he discovered that one of the charms was labelled: "For flesh
wounds," and this the boy separated from the others. It was only a bit
of dried root, taken from some unknown shrub, but the boy rubbed it upon
the wound made by the quill and in a few moments the place was healed
entirely and the Shaggy Man's leg was as good as ever.

"Rub it on the holes