down as he went, an axe which had been propped close beside the
entrance. Kagh sampled the axe-helve and, finding to his liking the
faint taste of salt from the hand of the man who had wielded it, he
succeeded in rendering it almost useless before his interest flagged.
His inquisitive nose now drew him to a small bag of tobacco beside which
lay a much blackened cob pipe. Whether Kagh did not care for tobacco, or
whether some new fancy at that moment took possession of him, no one can
tell. At any rate he nosed the pipe from its place, scattered the
tobacco to the four winds, and then shambled from the tent and
disappeared among the trees.

Ten minutes later he was sound asleep in a poplar sapling. What the
hunter said when he returned to camp and beheld the work of his visitor
is not recorded.

Kagh's was a restless spirit. Moonrise again found him abroad in search
of food and adventure. This time he traveled far for a slow old fellow.
At length he came to the zigzag fence of split rails which prevented the
wilderness from encroaching upon the clearing of the Hermit.

From the top rail of the fence he could see the gray roof of the
Hermit's cabin, silvered with the radiance of the full moon. At no time
was Kagh troubled with bashfulness and now, under the influence of that
flooding radiance, he decided to investigate the cabin and the
clearing. The fence, ending in a rough wall of field stone, made a
capital highway along which he shuffled happily until brought to an
abrupt halt by the appearance of another fence traveler. The white
quills with their dark points erected themselves from his blackish-brown
fur until he looked twice his normal size. This time, however, his armor
failed to strike terror to the heart of the enemy.

Kagh, the porcupine, was scornful of man and feared but one beast, the
one who now advanced toward him along the wall. That long, silky fur,
jet black save for two broad white stripes running down the back, and
that plumy tail, could belong to but one creature. The skunk, returning
from a neighborly visit to the Hermit's cabin, probably with a view to a
meal of fat chicken, advanced with its usual air of owning the earth.
This time the porcupine did not dispute the passage. Instead, he curled
up and dropped to the ground, whence he proceeded on his way,
complaining peevishly to himself.

All was still about the cabin. Kagh circled it until he came to the
lean-to at the back that served the He