ample bridge,--the porcupine
crawled, never troubling himself to inquire if another passenger might
chance to be crossing from the other side.

At the very same moment, indeed, another passenger raised furtive,
padded paws, and took possession of the opposite end of the bridge. It
was a huge bob-cat, with stubby tail and wide, pale green, unwinking
eyes. It had come stealing down from the thick woods to visit the
farmyard,--driven, perhaps, by the same moon-madness that stirred the
porcupine. But at the edge of the silent farmyard, white and tranquil
under the flooding radiance, the man-smell on the bars had brought the
bob-cat to a sudden halt. No moon-madness could make the cautious cat
forget the menace of that smell. It had turned in its tracks, and
concluded to look for woodchucks in the corn-field.

When the bob-cat had taken a few paces along the log, it paused and
glared at the porcupine vindictively, its eyes seeming to emit faint,
whitish flames. The porcupine, on the other hand, came right on,
slowly and indifferently, as if unaware of the bob-cat's presence. The
latter crouched down, flattened back its ears, dug long, punishing
claws into the bark, opened its sharp-toothed jaws, and gave a savage
spitting snarl. Was it possible that this insignificant, blundering,
sluggish creature, this pig of the tree-tops, was going to demand the
right of way? The porcupine, unhurried, continued to advance, nothing
but an increased elevation of his quills betraying that he was aware
of an opponent. The cat's absurd stub of a tail twitched
spasmodically, and for a few seconds it seemed as if rage might get
the better of discretion. But all the wild creatures know the
qualities of that fine armory of quills carried by the porcupine. The
big cat pulled himself together with a screech, ran back, and sprang
off to a rock on the bank, whence he spat impotently while the
porcupine crawled by.

So leisurely was the progress of the bristling little adventurer that
it was a good half-hour ere he reached the farmyard bars. Here he
stopped, and sniffed curiously. But it was no dread of the dreaded
man-smell that delayed him. The bars had been handled by many hot,
toiling hands; and the salt of their sweat had left upon the wood a
taste which the porcupine found pleasant. Here and there, up and down,
he gnawed at the discoloured surfaces. Then, when the relish was
exhausted, he climbed down on the inside, and marched deliberately