After we had crossed the river, we
had another embarrassment. The rich grass tempted our animals to stray
off to feed, and, but for our dogs, we should never have been able to
muster them again. But, for fear of further accident, I commanded my
advanced guard to take the road by the coast, which offered no
temptation to our troops.
We had scarcely left the high grass when our dogs rushed back into it,
barking furiously, and howling as if in combat; Fritz immediately
prepared for action, Ernest drew near his mother, Jack rushed forward
with his gun over his shoulder, and I cautiously advanced, commanding
them to be discreet and cool. But Jack, with his usual impetuosity,
leaped among the high grass to the dogs; and immediately returned,
clapping his hands, and crying out, "Be quick, papa! a huge porcupine,
with quills as long as my arm!"
When I got up, I really found a porcupine, whom the dogs were warmly
attacking. It made a frightful noise, erecting its quills so boldly,
that the wounded animals howled with pain after every attempt to seize
it. As we were looking at them Jack drew a pistol from his belt, and
discharged it directly into the head of the porcupine, which fell dead.
Jack was very proud of his feat, and Fritz, not a little jealous,
suggested that such a little boy should not be trusted with pistols, as
he might have shot one of the dogs, or even one of us.
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