The Beaver And The Porcupine

: 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
< r /> 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.]