ork of one of the pines, he perceived a singular
and hideous-looking animal--such as he had never before seen. It was of
a brown colour, about the size of a terrier-dog, with thick shaggy hair,
and clumped up in the fork of the tree--so that its head and feet were
scarcely distinguishable. Its odd appearance, as well as the peculiar
cry which it had uttered, would have alarmed many a one of less courage
than our young hunter, and Basil was at first, as he afterwards
confessed, "slightly flurried;" but a moment's reflection told him what
the animal was--one of the most innocent and inoffensive of God's
creatures--the Canada porcupine. It was this, then, that had barked the
scrub-pines--for they are its favourite food; and it was its track--
which in reality very much resembles that of a child--that Basil had
seen in the sand.

The first thought of the young hunter was to throw up his rifle, and
send a bullet through the ungainly animal; which, instead of making any
effort to escape, remained almost motionless, uttering, at intervals,
its child-like screams. Basil, however, reflected that the report of
his rifle would frighten any large game that might chance to be near;
and as the porcupine was hardly worth a shot, he concluded, upon
reflection, it would be better to leave it alone. He knew--for he had
heard Lucien say so--that he would find the porcupine at any time, were
it a week, or even a month after--for these creatures remain sometimes a
whole winter in the same grove. He resolved, therefore, should no other
game turn up, to return for it; and, shouldering his rifle again, he
continued his course through the woods.

As he proceeded, the timber became thinner. The scrub-pines gave place
to poplar-trees, with here and there an undergrowth of willows. The
trees stood far apart, and the willows grew only in clumps or "islands,"
so that the view was nearly open for many hundred yards around. Basil
walked on with all the silence and watchfulness of a true "still"
hunter--for, among backwoodsmen, this species of hunting is so called.
He ascended a low hill, and keeping a tree in front of him, looked
cautiously over its crest. Before him, and stretching from the bottom
of the hill, was a level tract of considerable extent. It was bounded
on one side by the edge of the lake, and on all the others by thin
woods, similar to those through which the hunter had been for some time
travelling. Here and there, over th