ut stooping down to examine them more closely, when a voice
sounded in his ears exactly like the cry of a child! This brought him
suddenly to an erect attitude again, and he looked all round to discover
who or what had uttered that strange cry. He could see no one--child or
man--and strange, too, for he had a clear view through the tree-trunks
for several hundred yards around. He was filled with curiosity, not
unmixed with alarm; and, stepping forward a few paces, he was about to
bend down and examine the tracks a second time, when the singular cry
again startled him.

This time it was louder than before, as if he was closer to whatever had
uttered it, but Basil now perceived that it proceeded from above him.
The creature from which it came was certainly not upon the ground, but
high up among the tops of the trees. He looked up, and there, in the
fork 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 ag