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1THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
PRESENTED BY
PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND
MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOIDtON THE BRIDGE
By
HENRY ABBOTT
NEW YORK
1923

H
SYV5r
\Copyright 1923
by
HENRY ABBOTT
BMBBMÜON THE BRIDGE v w
By
HENRY ABBOTT
THE apex of the beaver dam was
sharp as the ridge of a steep roof.
Also it was absolutely level. The engi-
neer who constructed that dam had his
“spirit-level” always at hand during its
building, as well as for use in the repairs
that were daily made. The water level
above the dam always was within one
inch of overflowing, throughout its hun-
dred and fifty feet of length; while in the
spillway (about six feet wide) at one
end of the dam, the overflow was never
less than two inches deep.
The top of this dam was, therefore, a
somewhat difficult and precarious foot-
path, and required one to watch his step
while crossing on it. Nevertheless, it
was preferable to wading the stream be-
low. The dam had backed the water up
a half mile. Just above, the water was
several feet deep and the only possible
3Water Level above Dam
Cross Section of Beaver Damway of crossing above the dam was to
swim.
We were marking a trail to Salmon
Pond; so, when we reached the river and
it became necessary to get to the other
side of the stream, we decided to cross
on the beaver dam. We, of course, had
in the back of our heads a somewhat
vague and indefinite thought that when
we got ready to use the trail for constant
travel, we might improve the top of that
dam and make a better footpath thereon.
We considered this an unimportant de-
tail which we should attend to at the
proper time, and the dam builders; were
not consulted. Later events proved this
omission on our part to be a tactical
error.
Salmon Pond was about six miles from
our headquarters and it was up hill and
rough country all the way. This pond
is in a beautiful basin surrounded by
steep, rocky and spruce-covered hills.
The water is deep, clear and cold. Thirty
years ago, when lumbering operations
5were conducted in that part of the forest,
log-roads were built for use in winter,
when hauling the logs over the snow
down to the lake. In summer, even in
those days, these log-roads were rough,
in many places swampy and difficult for
the foot traveler to negotiate. Now,
through long disuse, they were filled with
a dense growth of saplings. Hemlock,
spruce, birch and maples, the size of one’s
wrist, were growing so close together
that it was difficult to force one’s body
between them. Indeed, travel anywhere
else in the woods would be easier than
in those old log-roads.
Salmon Pond had been put on our pro-
gram. We expected to do some fishing
and hunting up there. Would have to
travel up and back many times during
the season, so we set about the work of
making a trail. We selected a route,
marked the trees and cut out brush. This,
of course, involved some strenuous labor
and kept Bige and me busy for the better
part of a week.
6Salmon RiverSalmon Pond is well up among the
hills in a wild part of the forest. There
are no human habitations in many miles
of it, and it is near the top of the
Raquette watershed. Wolf Pond, a mile
farther on, is on the other side of the
divide and its waters find their way into
the Hudson River and run south, while
Salmon water, through the Raquette and
a chain of lakes, ultimately reaches the
Gulf of St. Lawrence toward the north.
Having completed our trail we carried
in a tent, blankets and a lot of provisions,
making the crossing on the beaver dam
with no more serious mishap than wet
feet. Sam said that in the previous sum-
mer he had left an old boat hidden in the
bushes near the pond, and gave us per-
mission to use it. We did not find the
boat where Sam had cached it. Some-
one else had borrowed it, had broken a
hole through one side and left it in the
water. On the following morning we
went back over the trail to the lake to
bring up one of our own boats.
8The “Adirondack Guide Boat” has
been developed during the past ninety
years, to meet the requirements of service
in that region. The boats are built by
men who live in that country, who know
by experience the conditions and the need
for a type of boat which will safely car-
ry one over the waters of the wilderness
and which may itself be easily carried
over land from one body of water to
another.
At first sight, one would know instinc-
tively that these boats were not invented,
designed and perfected suddenly.
Through years of experience in forest
travel, they have been improved bit by
bit, as the need for such changes in de-
sign became apparent. During the pass-
ing years many boat builders have con-
tributed to these refinements in efficiency
of this most useful tool of the camper
and forest traveler. Also, the materials
of which these boats are made are native
to these forests.
Sentimentalists still write in poetic
9language of the beauties of the Indian
bark canoe. It is fair to concede that,
considering the very crude tools he had
to work with, Mr. Lo, the poor Indian,
did remarkably well in the construction
of his birch bark pirogue. But it was
always more picturesque than useful and
has not been improved for two hundred
years. The manufacturer who now, with
machinery, produces in quantity, alleged
real “Indian canoes,” also by advertising
propaganda encourages and keeps alive
the sentimental demand for a type of
boat that, long ago, should have become
obsolete.
The best quality of Adirondack boat
is made chiefly of white cedar, a very
light weight and durable wood. The
sides are three-sixteenths of an inch
thick. The bottom board three-quarters
and the gunwale one inch thick. The
knees are one-half inch thick and are
made of spruce roots (the part that
grows above ground) carefully selected,
so that the natural curve of the root shall
10conform to the required curve in the
knee. These curves, of course, vary in
every knee from the center to the ends
of the boat. The lap joints of the siding
are as carefully fitted as are the sections
of a split bamboo rod, are caulked with
white lead and riveted with small copper
rivets. A few of these boats are painted,
but the better ones are rubbed down and
varnished, showing the natural grain of
the wood. Paddles or oars may be used,
at either end, or in the middle. Every
boat is also provided with a yoke which
can be placed across the centre. The boat
may then be turned upside down, with
the yoke resting on the shoulders. One
may walk erect and carry such a boat
through trees and brush with compara-
tive ease.
The boat which we carried to Salmon
Pond was fourteen feet long and, with-
out oars and paddle, weighed forty-five
pounds. Six miles is an unusually long
carry. The average distance from one
lake to another in this country is less
11Salmon PondI than a mile. But we were ambitious and
I hunting for work, the more strenuous
the better; also there was no need to hur-
ry, and we could rest as often as neces-
sary.
In due time we reached the beaver
dam, a little more than half way to our
destination. Bige carried the boat and
I the oars and paddle. The obvious
thing to do, would, of course, be to put
the boat in the water above the dam and
paddle it across the beaver pond. But
the bushes on the shore would have to be
cut away to make a landing place, so Bige
proceeded to carry across, on the dam.
Beavers have a habit of weaving into
the dams they build, poplar sticks, from
which during the previous winter they
have peeled the bark for food. Brush,
sod, stones and mud also contribute to
this concrete. This dam was no excep-
tion to the rule. There were many of
these smooth peeled sticks along the
ridge of the dam, and when wet they
were slippery.
13About the middle of the dam Bige
slipped on one of these wet peeled sticks,
one foot shot out toward the upper side,
and the boat and Bige came down to-
gether with a crash on the lower side of
the dam.
A careful inventory disclosed no brok-
en bones, but several bruises, one broken
knee in the boat and a hole through the
thin siding that one could put a foot
through. Having devoted some time to
dispensing unprintable remarks, we then
proceeded to carry that boat four milesi
back to the boat shop where we were told
that repairs would be completed in about
a week.
On our next trip we carried an axe
and stopped long enough at the beaver
dam to cut some small logs. Two of
these we laid across the spillway. Others
were laid lengthwise along the top of the
dam. These, we decided, would make of
the dam a perfectly safe foot bridge, on
which we could cross the river and keep
our feet dry.
14The next day we came again to the
dam and found that the beavers had re-
moved every log we had placed on the
dam. Those we had put over the spill-
way, by the simple method of gnawing
them until they broke in the middle and
the two parts dropped in the overflowing
water and floated down’ stream. The
others, surely, at an expenditure of much
labor, doubtless by the combined efforts
of several animals, had been dragged off
of the dam and down to the swift water
below it. Some of the logs were visible
lodged against the shore several rods
below the dam.
Bige and I thought that while we had
improved the dam so as to make it safer
for our own use, we had also made it
stronger and better for the use and pur-
poses of the beavers. Seemingly the con-
struction engineers did not agree with
our views. Judging by their acts, they
had no place in their structure for any
lumber cut by an axe and contaminated
|>y the scent of human hands. Several
15times we put on the top of that dam
sticks and stones for stepping places, and
each time they were promptly removed.
Doubtless these dams are inspected
dailHby their owners. We know that
signs of fresh repairs are seen every time
we pass one of them. We also know
that beavers always have in the well-hole
in the floor of their dining room, a water-
gauge, which enables them instantly to
detect any lowering of the water level
without going outside of their hut. Thus,
when a leak in the dam is indicated by a
recession of the water, a gang of workers
is promptly sent out to repair the break.
The first time we crossed on this dam
we noticed tracks of other animals in the
soft earth near the shore. Indeed, sev-
eral deer-trails could be traced through
the bushes, converging toward the end
of the dam. Also on the opposite side of
the river similar deer paths spread out
toward different points of the compass.
One day Bige had gone hunting over
on Wolf Mountain and I, in accord with
16agreement, took my gun and wandered
down along the bank of the river. When
I reached the crossing place, I hid in the
bushes on the leeward side, resolved to
watchfully wait there until I learned who
besides us two was making use of this
bridge to cross the river.
In a few minutes a small black wood-
chuck climbed up on the end of the dam
and slowly, carefully placing his feet,
testing the solidity of each stick before
bearing his full weight upon it, he
worked his way as far as the spillway.
Here he hesitated, dipped one foot in
the water, then shook it and placed the
other foot in and as promptly shook the
water off of that. Then he looked slowly
and carefully all around for some other
possible way; finding none, he plunged
in, quickly swam across and coming up
on the bank, shook himself as does a dog
who has just come out of the water.
Half an hour later, when I was nearly
asleep, I heard the breaking of dry sticks
and the rattling of bushes on the oppo-
17Building a Guide Boatsite side of the river, and presently a doe
and two fawns came out of the woods
and stood on the bank. The doe cau-
tiously looked up and down stream,
smelled about on the ground, held her
head high and sniffed the air, moved her
big ears backward and forward, intently
listening, then walked out on the dam.
Carefully placing every step the doe
crossed on this bridge to my side of the
river. The two spotted fawns boldly
plunged into the water, swam about,
chased each other up and down in the
shallow water along the edges of the
beaver pond, splashing water like a
couple of human youngsters.
The mother deer began nibbling young
shoots on some maple saplings, pushed
into a clump of raspberry bushes, bit off
a top of new growth here and there and
ate some witch-hopple leaves. Moving
slowly about, she was approaching my
hiding place and presently pushed her
nose through the bushes directly over my
head, looking down in my face, with her
19head not five feet away. I have never
seen on the face of any animal or human
a more amazed or incredulous look than
was expressed in that face which I could
almost touch with outstretched hand.
For an appreciable period of time, per-
haps a few seconds, the deer stared at
me, then with a convincing sniff, head up
and tail up, snorting loudly, she bounded
off into the woods, jumping high, easily
clearing stumps, rocks, and fallen trees
that happened to be in her path. At the
first note of warning sounded by the
mother, the two baby deer ceased play
and instantly followed.
A few minutes later Bige came stum-
bling down the trail and crossed on the
beaver dam. I promptly called him down
for hunting on my allotted territory,
He allowed that there was nothing on
Wolf Mountain, so he came back. Found
fresh deer signs up the river and fol-
lowed the tracks all the way (about two
miles) down to where they ended at the
beaver dam. Had I seen any deer? I
20had; but they were my pet deer, on my
private preserve and not to be hunted any
more that day. Also, we 'were not sup-
posed to be hunting mothers with babies.
But Bige had seen only tracks and none
of the small ones. Then we returned to
camp and made preparations for supper.
During that night, there came up a
violent thunder shower accompanied by
wind which blew down a yellow birch
tree. The tree fell across the spillway,
its top resting on the dam. The tree
trunk was above the water high enough
so beavers could swim under it. Doubt-
less, knowing that this tree was not
placed on their dam by the hand of a
suspected enemy, but that it was put there
by an act of God, the beavers allowed it
to remain. They did, however, trim up
the top and made some use of the limbs.
This trimming made the tree more avail-
able for the completion of our foot bridge
and thereafter we were able to cross the
river dry shod.
The following day, as usual, we sepa-
21rated for the hunt, Bige going up toward
Tongue Mountain while I tramped
through the valley between Buck and
Blue Mountains. In mid-afternoon I
came again to the crossing place and,
sheltered from view, sat down to rest and
to watch what crossed on the bridge.
First to appear was a hen partridge with
seven half-grown chickens. It would
seem that these travelers did not need a
bridge. Each had a pair of good wings
and one of the easiest things a partridge
does is to fly a distance equal to the
width of the river. But there they were,
eight of them, carefully balancing on
the smooth, round sticks of which the
dam was made, hopping from one stick to
another, in solemn procession making
way slowly across the dam. When they
reached the birch tree a flying hop took
them across and the entire flock passed
out of sight under the bushes on my side
of the river. The old bird was still lead-
ing and continually warning the others to
Quit! Quit! Quit!
22
Carrying a Guide BoatTen minutes later a fox appeared upon
the dam, coming toward the place where
I was hiding. His nose was close to the
ground, while his feathery, carnelian col-
ored tail was gracefully carried in a per-
fectly horizontal position, so that no hair
of it should get wet. Foxy was coming
swiftly, but no swifter than my thoughts,
which in rapid succession ran thus: He
is hunting. He is on the trail of some-
thing. It's the partridges. It’s not yet
time to shoot foxes. The fur is not good
now. But I must not let him get those
birds. Til give him a warning. Up to
shoulder comes the rifle—click—bang!
That fox is surely the champion vertical
high jumper of his clan. With the crack
of the rifle a three-inch stick was split
directly under him, and Foxy went
straight up, four feet above the dam.
When he hit the ground again, he was
headed the other way and was running.
At least what appeared upon the retina
of the eye was a red streak about ten
feet long.
24For a considerable period of time a
chipmunk had engaged my attention. He
was very busy carrying from a nearby
tree, beechnuts which he was packing
down in his storehouse underground, for
use next winter. Finding his movements
were not disturbed, he fearlessly passed,
many times, close to where I sat. Each
time he entered his hole he assayed some
remark about the weather or the abund-
ance of the beechnut crop this season;
but his cheeks were so swollen and so
stuffed with nuts that I could not be sure
just what he was trying to say.
While the chipmunk was making his
nineteenth trip, I became aware that some
fellow was crossing the river on the
beaver bridge. Cautiously looking
through the bushes at the moving figure,
I thought I recognized something famil-
iar in outline and gait. It was a four-
footed individual, and as he came nearer
to the bank on my side, I knew it was
Duffy. He came on, sniffing the ground,
and his nose led him direct to my clump
25of bushes, where he licked my hand,
wagged his tail, looked up in my face
and lay down beside me with his head in
my lap. Duffy and I were old friends.
We had known each other a long time.
We had hunted together, and Duffy un-
derstood the rules of the chase. Before
he discovered my hiding place, he had
been hunting on his own account, but
now he cheerfully obeyed my order when
I said keep quiet.
Duffy was a dog:—a peculiar dog in
appearance. He was long of body and
head but short in legs. Duffy was not
only unique among dogs in appearance,
but also he was unconventional in habits
and disposition. He not only looked like
a joke dog, one of the kind that the
newspaper joke writers put in a picture
with links of sausage, but Duffy had a
well-developed sense of humor of his
own and he was fond of practical jokes,
especially when played upon some other
fellow. Although usually having a seri-
ous and thoughtful cast of countenance,
26I have many times seen a twinkle in his
eye and a grin upon his face which, when
it was observed, he made an effort to
dissipate by violently sneezing.
Duffy was fond of hunting in the
woods. He preferred company, either a
man with a gun or some other dog. Fail-
ing to get either, he would wander off by
himself and every day spend an hour or
two chasing some of the inhabitants of
the forest. Duffy was peculiarly adapted
by his shape to run rabbits. His legs
were so short that he could never run
fast enough to catch a rabbit; neither
would he allow bunny to stop long
enough to hide in the bushes. He would
always start the game up again and keep
it moving until the circuit was completed
and the “cotton tail” brought back within
range of his master’s gun. In the absence
of the man with a gun, Duffy would run
rabbits just to give them and him a little
exercise. Whenever he struck the trail
of a squirrel or coon the quarry promptly
climbed a tree and then Duffy’s bark took
27George, thè Boat Builderan entirely different note. He seemed
displeased at being deprived of the
chance to run. Listening to his bark up
on the mountain side, always we could be
quite sure whether he was running or
looking up into a tree, while speaking.
We never had any doubt about its being
Duffy. No other dog ever had a voice
just like his, and he had a distinctly dif-
ferent note for each different animal he
started up; so that, in time, by listening
we learned to know when Duffy had
started a deer, a rabbit, a partridge, a
woodchuck or a coon.
Early in life Duffy must have had sad
experience with porcupines, since, after
my acquaintance with him, he never was
known to go near one. He was, how-
ever, fond of egging on other dogs and
watching their fights with a “quill pig.”
Duffy lived at a summer resort in the
mountains. He lived there throughout
the year and was, in consequence, full
of experience and knowledge of wood-
craft, while some of the city dogs who
29came up with their owners for a few
weeks in summer were not so well in-
formed.
One morning I noticed Duffy rubbing
noses with several city dogs and in sub-
dued tones conversing with them in dog
language. He was doubtless telling them
of the joys of the chase, for presently
they all started up the trail toward the
woods with Duffy in the lead. In about
a half hour a chorus of barks was heard
from the hillside toward which they had
gone, indicating that game was afoot.
In another half hour Duffy was seen,
alone, trotting down the path toward the
hotel, where he mounted the steps to the
porch, lay down, and with an open,
pleased, satisfied expression on his face
pounded the floor with his tail. A few
minutes later the four other dogs of
Duffy’s party appeared, punctuating their
slow progress down hill with yelps and
ki-yies and pawings of faces filled with
gray whiskers in the form of porcupine
quills.
30Sympathetic friends rushed to the
rescue of the poor city dogs, and while
two persons held a kicking, struggling
dog, a third, with a pair of pliers, pulled
out of nose, lips, and mouth the cruel
barbed porcupine quills. Duffy, mean-
while, sitting on haunches nearby, inter-
estedly watched proceedings with a
happy expression on his face, while his
tail gently pounded the floor.
There were no human witnesses of
what occurred in the woods on that occa-
sion, but an acquaintance with Duffy and
a limited knowledge of porcupines would
enable one to reproduce the picture as
follows: Duffy leading the procession of
city dogs into that part of the woods
where he knows a porcupine lives, shows
them a fresh trail which they enthusias-
tically and noisily follow, while Duffy
generously drops back to the rear of the
squad. “Porky,” slowly traveling
through the woods, hears the vociferous
approach of a lot of dogs, does not run—
he never runs. He does not climb a tree,
31which he could do and thus avoid an
enemy. He calmly awaits their approach
and as each dog in turn comes within
range, a lightning-like stroke of a spine-
covered tail swats that dog across the
nose and permanently puts him out of
business. Duffy, having witnessed this
encounter, trots back home to gloat over
the initiation of four city dogs into the
mysteries of porcupine hunting. Duffy,
also, has been known to introduce other
dogs to a skunk, while he himself kept
at a safe distance.
While Duffy remained, the chipmunk
discreetly kept under cover, postponing
his harvesting operations till a more con-
venient occasion. Duffy and I saw a
flock of nine black ducks, in single file,
with funereal tread, solemnly marching
across the dam. Now, the most natural
thing for a duck would be to swim across,
but for some unexplained reason, they
seemed to think it their duty to utilize
the engineering structure provided by the
beavers.
32When it came time to go, I gave Duffy
what remained of my lunch, led him a
short distance down the trail and advised
him to go home, which, with some show
of reluctance, he did. By his actions,
Duffy plainly said he would like to stay
and hunt with us tomorrow. But in
“still hunting” a dog is likely to queer
everything, so we had to refuse him that
pleasure. Having started toward camp,
I looked back to see Duffy slowly mov-
ing homeward, but with head turned and
face showing a most human expression
of disappointment.
While our boat was undergoing re-
pairs, we were not able to fish on the
pond, so a large part of our time was de-
voted to hunting and exploration. Thus,
I found myself nearly every day return-
ing toward camp early, and going by way
of the beaver dam on which our trail
crossed the river. When, as sometimes
happened, I had been working in a far
distant part of the forest, I was obliged
to make a long detour. As, for example,
34if one should go from Albany to New
York City by the way of Philadelphia.
I once knew a traveling salesman who
did that; but then he had a girl in the
latter city.
Sitting hidden in my clump of bushes
one afternoon, I saw .a raccoon creeping
up toward the river bank on my side of
the stream, with an ear of corn in her
mouth. The nearest growing corn that
I knew of was in a garden by the saw-
mill, more than three miles away. There
could be no doubt that the lady coon had
carried the corn all that distance.
She sat down on the river bank, held
the ear of corn in the left hand with the
butt end of the ear resting against her
shoulder and with the right hand stripped
off the husks, one at a time. The coon
used her forepaws as handily as does a
monkey. When the last husk had been re-
moved she walked out on the bridge and
very carefully washed the com in the
water above the dam. After this, carry-
ing the clean ear of com in her mouth,
35she proceeded across the bridge and into
the woods on the opposite side of the
river, where, doubtless, she climbed to
her nest in a hollow tree and fed the
corn to her young coon kittens. It is
highly probable that she had eaten all the
corn required by her own appetite nearer
the source of supply.
During the period of our camping at
Salmon Pond, we continued our explora-
tion of the wilderness, within a radius of
five miles, on one occasion going over
Dun Brook Mountain and returning
through the valley west of Fishing Brook
Mountain. We fished many trout streams
we had never before seen, and which it
is probable few men ever fished, because
these brooks are remote from known
trails. There is a charm in this type of
outing that I find it difficult to express
in words that would be understood by
those who have not experienced it. One
who always fishes from a boat never
would appreciate the story, even though
reams were written.
36Nevertheless, we missed our boat. We
felt confident that in the deep parts of
the pond, where the water was cold, we
should find some big ones. Those were
the chaps we wanted to capture, but
without a, boat we could not reach them.
While playing the detective at the bea-
ver dam, we learned that it had become
a highway for man)H>f the forest folk;
that they often choose to travel long
distances up or down stream in order to
cross over on this bridge. This seemed
to be as true of those animals who were
fond of the water and often played or
hunted food in it, as it was of others
who hesitated to wet their feet. A long
legged blue heron, who habitually wades
in shallow water looking for frog or fish
for food, one day stalked across the
bridge, looking very dignified and ma-
jestic. This chap could have waded
across the river anywhere except in the
deep water above the dam. Also, he
knew how to use his wings.
There was never any such procession
37as one sees in the springtime, when the
Bamum and Bailey Circus, preceding the
Menagerie, parades into town. Nor was
it at all like that historic pageant which
on one occasion entered Noah’s house-
boat. But at discreet intervals, singly or
in family groups, practically every animal
who lived in that forest, sooner or later,
at one time or at another time, passed in
review, going or coming, over that bea-
ver bridge.
This fact, doubtless, furnished a rea-
son for the frequent repairs which the
beavers found it necessary or desirable
to make. Probably the heavier animals
or humans in crossing disturbed the posi-
tion of some sod or stick and thus started
a small leak, which it was important to
repair before the leak grew to be a big
one.
Tracks found in the soft ground at
either end of the dam, furnished occasion
for study to determine the names of their
makers and the length of time the im-
pressions had been standing. Were the
38tracks made last night or ten minutes
ago? The ability to decide with a fair
degree of accuracy the question whether
or not a track is fresh, is an indication of
skill in an important feature of wood-
craft. Many times we arrived just a
few minutes too late to meet some im-
portant denizen of the forest whose
acquaintance we wished to renew.
One day a porcupine appeared at the
western end of the beaver bridge, and
started in his slow, deliberate manner to
travel across the river, going toward the
east. At about the same moment, a skunk
arrived at the eastern end of the bridge
with the apparent intention of crossing
the river going westward. To the writer,
concealed in the bushes, it seemed that
both of these fellows were headed for
trouble. But both continued slowly and
cautiously to move forward. Knowing
a little of the habits and dispositions of
the two animals, they seemed to us the
embodiment of the two elements in the
famous problem in physics. I felt sure
39I was soon to witness a collision between
“an irresistible force and an immovable
body.”
No forest animal, however big- or
fierce, has ever yet made a porcupine
hurry up. Nor have I ever known one
of his neighbors to compel Porky to
move out of the path he intended to tra-
vel. Under normal conditions his barbed
quills are carried lying flat against the
body and tail, overlapping one another
like the feathers on a bird. But when
danger impends or when his angry pas-
sions rise, these quills assume a vertical
position, and with his nose tucked in be-
tween the forelegs, the porcupine resem-
bles a mammoth unopened chestnut burr.
He may be attacked, but he knows that
whatever bites him, or hits him, will sure-
ly carry away a mouthful or a pawful of
his barbed and poisonous spines. He also
knows how to make one quick move-
ment. Whenever his enemy comes with-
in range, his heavily loaded tail, which
has assumed the shape of a spiked club,
40moves with incredible swiftness and in-
flicts terrible punishment upon whomso-
ever it hits. Porky also knows that his
poison-pointed spines cause great pain,
that they are not easily pulled out, but
because of their many barbs, with every
motion made by the victim they pene-
trate deeper; that they always discourage
the assailant and often cause his death.
This seems to account for the perfect
confidence and seeming fearlessness of
the porcupine in the presence of a power-
ful enemy.
During the late World War, the Ger-
mans boasted of having invented and in-
troduced a method of warfare that was
more deadly, and that exceeded in
frightfulness, any weapon theretofore
employed. Thereupon, the Chinese filed
evidence in a counterclaim to the doubt-
ful honor, asserting that a similar meth-
od of fighting, though on a less extensive
scale, was employed in China five hun-
dred years ago.
Every nature student knows that both
41



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End of the Trailwere wrong and that the skunk was the
original and first inventor of that par-
ticular form of cussedness. Also that he
employed it in warfare more than five
thousand years ago. Moreover, that as
a means of defense he still employs it.
Most animals, both domestic and wild,
also know about the skunk's armament;
some of them by experience, others by
animal tradition or instinct.
It has thus come about that whatever
the skunk desires he acquires, without
discussion or contest. If he wants the
middle of the road, he takes it and he has
grown to feel very sure of his inalienable
right to it.
When, therefore, these two cocky deni-
zens of the same forest met on the beaver
bridge, there was none of that obsequious!
“After you, my dear Alfonse.” “No,
after you, my dear Gaston!” Rather, if
their native speech were converted into
our language it would sound more like:
“Me first, Bill; back up till I get over!”
“Not on your life, Jim Skunk; you go
43back. I found this bridge first. I cross
here every day.” “I don’t care if you
do cross every day, Bill; I’m on this
bridge now and I’m going over. Get
out of my way!” “So am I on this
bridge and I’m going over; you better
watch your step or you’ll get your feet
wet.”
Bill Porcupine is usually silent and
seemingly of an unamiable and morose
disposition; but on this occasion he was
excessively vocal. He was making snuf-
fing, growling and chattering noises.
Occasionally he uttered a curious squeal-
ing cry, and his teeth were snapping all
the time.
Jim'Skunk is generally quicker and
more lively in his movements. Facing
the porcupine, he was stamping his fore
feet with an air of impatience, and emit-
ting low growling sounds.
The animals were threatening each
other, on a single track bridge, with no
switch, or turn out, or room for passing.
Both could swim, but neither would do
44so. Each had refused to go back and so
they stood, with noses about a foot apart,
and cussed and swore and called each
other hard names. In another race, they
had noble precedents for such procedure.
Men have fought and died “for a prin-
ciple,,, equally foolish and unimportant.
Diplomatic relations between peoples
have been severed because some one
went in to dinner out of his proper order.
Nations have gone to war with each other
for no better reason than that some man
in power had a single track mind and
refused to “back up” to avoid a collision.
So Bill and Jim for a long time stood
facing one another, with menace in atti-
tude and threat in tones of voice. They
seemed stationary, but I soon discovered
1 that they had somehow, very slowly, ap-
proached till their noses were only a few
inches apart. Their heads seemed not to
change in relative positions, but with in-
credible swiftness Bill’s body bent like a
letter U while his swollen spiked tail
made a flail-like stroke that smote Jim
45squarely across the nose. At the same
instant, Jim’s body twisted in the oppo-
site direction and two jets of suffocating
poison gas were shot into the fg.ce and
eyes of Bill.
No, I do not know which animal first
crossed the bridge. I had important busi-
ness back at the camp and I very prompt-
ly left the scene of battle and did not
return till a week later.
46










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