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The Beaver And The Porcupine

from The Strange Story Book

Once upon a time there lived in the North West of America a beaver and a
porcupine, who were great friends; and, as often happens, they loved
each other all the better because they were so different. To begin with,
the porcupine as no doubt you know is stuck over like a pin-cushion with
long prickly quills, while the beaver is smooth-haired. Then the beaver
had his house in the middle of a great lake, and the porcupine much
preferred to dwell on land among the mountains, and if the beaver had
not been able to swim, the two would never have met at all.

Now the beaver was often to be seen at the door of the porcupine's
house, and was continually urging him to return the visit; but so far
the porcupine had always refused.

'How can I?' he would ask. 'You know quite well that in a moment I
should have swallowed so much water that my body would sink to the
bottom, and I should never come up again. No, no! it is
impossible--totally impossible--sorry as I am to give up the pleasure of
seeing all the wonderful things you have told me of.' And try as he
might, the beaver never could get another answer.

But one day he thought of a very clever plan, and he lost no time in
putting it into practice. He had noticed from his house that the
porcupine was sitting on the shore, enjoying the sun, so he instantly
set off to swim to him.

'You are coming to see my house this minute,' said he.

'To see your house?' repeated the porcupine in amazement; 'but how am I
to do that? I have told you a hundred times I should be drowned before I
had gone ten yards.'

'Oh, no, you wouldn't!' replied the beaver, 'for I am going to carry
you. Be quick and get on my back, and hold fast round my neck.'

'But I shall die! I know I shall!'

'I tell you, you won't die. I will take care of that! Oh, don't be
such a coward!' And at length, very slowly, the porcupine climbed up and
seated himself.

'Hold tight round my neck,' said the beaver again; 'I am just going to
start.' But he need not have troubled to give that advice, for the
porcupine's grasp nearly choked him. Still, so long as the beaver kept
on the surface, the porcupine really had nothing to complain of; but
when he dived as he did once or twice, the water got into the rider's
eyes and nose and down his throat, and almost suffocated him.

No words could tell how thankful he was to reach the beaver's house, but
he could not think how he should ever have the courage to make that
dreadful journey a second time.

* * * * *

'You seem tired; you must have something to eat,' said the beaver as the
porcupine lay down feebly on his side. The porcupine was very glad to
hear that, for he was certainly hungry; but great was his disappointment
when the beaver took out of a hole a bundle of sticks and placed them
before his guest.

'They are quite young twigs--you will find them very good,' said he, and
the poor porcupine did not know how to refuse, and ate them silently and
without making more faces than he could help, for he did not like them
at all.

Next morning, when the porcupine awoke, the beaver was standing by him.

'Let us have a game, friend,' he cried; 'I know ever so many!'

'What sort of game is it?' asked the porcupine, and the beaver answered:
'You shall get on my back, and put your nose well down on the nape of my
neck, and four times will I dive to the bottom of the lake, and four
times will I come up!'

This did not sound a very good game to the porcupine, and he would have
preferred something quite different, but he did not like to be rude or
ill-natured, so he agreed to play it. But when it came to the point,
the game proved even worse than he thought, for before the beaver
started he splashed about with his tail, and filled the porcupine's eyes
and nose with water; and not content with that he stayed below at each
dive so very long that, when they rose to the surface for the fourth
time, the porcupine was nearly dead.

'I will take you home now,' said the beaver; 'I have enjoyed my game so
much.'

* * * * *

No sooner had the porcupine touched dry land than he went up to join his
tribe, and bade them come to a feast in his house. As soon as they were
all assembled he told them of the terrible sufferings he had gone
through at the hands of the beaver, whom he had always looked on as a
friend, though he could do so no more.

'He really almost killed me,' he said mournfully; and his guests replied
smilingly, 'Well, invite him to come and play with you.'

The porcupine was well pleased with their words, and next day sent a
message to the beaver, begging for the honour of a visit as early as
possible. The beaver lost no time in setting out, and the porcupine who
was keeping watch soon saw him coming up the valley.

'Come in! come in!' cried he, and gave the fire a switch with his tail,
so that some sparks flew right into the eyes of the guest. 'Do you feel
inclined for some food?' inquired the porcupine; 'you have had a long
walk and I am sure you must be hungry.'

'Thank you, I should like some,' replied the beaver; but he did not
fancy the bark and pine needles that the porcupine placed before him.
However, the porcupine did not seem to notice his guest's unwillingness,
and only said:

'Eat a little faster, my friend, for I am longing to have a game with
you'; so the beaver was forced to swallow some of the bark, which he did
not like any better than the porcupine had liked the twigs.

'What game is it, and where do you play?' he asked when he had
finished.

'Do you see that tree on the slope over there? That is my play-ground.
But, perhaps, as it is getting late and you may be tired, it would be as
well to put it off till to-morrow. I will show you where you are to
sleep.' And as they walked along, the porcupine said something to the
sky and the clouds vanished, and in the morning the ground was covered
with ice.

The following day he told the beaver he had prepared another feast for
him, but as it was just like the last, the beaver would rather have been
without it.

'I have finished now,' he observed as soon as he could, and the
porcupine answered:

'Very well; now we will go out to play.'

So the two went down towards the slope and came to a frozen stream which
had to be crossed. The porcupine easily got over with his long claws,
but the beaver's feet were smooth, and had nothing to hold on with, thus
he slid from one side to the other and was very uncomfortable.

'Come along,' said the porcupine, 'it is all right'; but the beaver
could not 'come along,' and at last the porcupine had to go back and
take him by the hand and lead him over.

'Now you will be able to walk,' remarked the porcupine, and they went on
to the place where the tree was standing.

* * * * *

'Here we are!' said the porcupine, stopping beneath it.

'But what is the game?' asked the beaver.

'Oh, you have to climb this tree.'

'But I have never climbed a tree in my life,' replied the beaver
anxiously. 'How do you begin?'

'I will go first, and you have only to watch me and see how I do it,'
answered the porcupine, and he climbed and climbed till he reached the
very top of the tree. Then he let go the branch he was on, and dropped
straight to the ground.

'There, it is not very difficult,' he said to the beaver; 'but as you
are not used to climbing I will take you up on my back, and you can come
down by yourself. Be sure you cling tight round my neck.' And the beaver
did--very tight indeed.

It took them some time to reach the top of the tree and then the
porcupine put the beaver on to a branch. But the beaver was not much
more comfortable than when he was crossing the ice, for his smooth hands
could not dig into the bark like the porcupine's claws.

'Hold fast to the tree, and I will go down first,' said the porcupine,
and as he spoke he let the branch go, and fell down to the earth. Then
he got up, and ran about at the foot of the tree, watching the beaver
who was still on his branch, too frightened to move.

'Oh, don't be afraid! Look at me! I am alive as you see,' so at last the
beaver let go as the porcupine bade him. But he did not know the proper
way to fall as the porcupine did, and his head struck on a rock, and the
blow killed him.

Then the porcupine went home.

[Tsimshian Texts, by Franz Boas.]

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