Before he realized what was going to happen, Pero, the porcupine, came at him backwards, and suddenly Jock was pierced in over a dozen places by those sharp, cruel quills.

In an instant his barking and snarls were changed to dismal howls of pain.  In vain he tried to turn and run away.  He was fastened to the porcupine as though with so many nails, and his agony was almost unbearable.

Pero suddenly walked away from him, and, without once looking back, shambled in her clumsy, plantigrade[Footnote:  A plantigrade is an animal which walks on the soles of its feet.-Author.] fashion back to the mound of earth, where she had been carefully burrowing a hole for her winter home.  It would have been finished by this time if Jock had not disturbed her, and she was naturally angry.

[Illustration:  “JOCK HAD NEVER SEEN ANYIHING LIKE IT BEFORE”]

She cared nothing whatever for the dog’s howls or moans of pain.  She had done with him now and had left him several of her quills as mementoes of the occasion.

In vain Jock tried to get rid of them, but Pero had driven them well in, and was wise enough to know that where she once drove her quills there they stayed, until, perhaps, they worked themselves out in the opposite direction.

For the quills of a porcupine are so peculiarly made that when once they are driven into the flesh, instead of working their way out, they go deeper and deeper, often boring right into the vital parts of an animal, and so killing it.

In days gone by some people believed that the porcupine was a most dangerous animal, and that whenever it saw an enemy approaching it just threw some of its little, pointed spears at him and so killed him.  But this belief came from an old fable, for the porcupine cannot throw its quills, but he can push them in, in the same way that Pero pushed her’s into the terrier, and then leave them to work their mischief.

Had Jock been a wiser dog, he would have known better than to have had anything to do with the porcupine.  But he was only an ordinary English terrier, and, as I told you, had not been long in West Africa.

A horse would have known better, for all horses are afraid of porcupines, and will never face an irritated one if they can possibly get away.  As a rule, the very rustle of a porcupine’s quills will make a horse take to his highest speed in terror.

Neither leopards or tigers care to face this animal, for they seem to know instinctively how dangerous its quills are.

Once having inserted her quills, Pero paid no further attention to Jock, but went on burrowing and burrowing with her curious, snout-like nose, and never rested until she had made a nice little cave in the earth, where she could be warm and comfortable all through the winter.

She was in a great hurry, for it would soon be time to go to sleep, and before going to sleep she had some important duties to perform and would be very busy.