The Porcupine Year Read Free

look…ahhhh, ahhhh.” The quill on the end of his nose undid her and she fell down laughing again.“Hiyn, brother, I am sorry for you. Let me help.”
    Pinch was savagely pulling the quills out with his own fingers, screaming with every one. In his pain, he grabbed the quills so carelessly that they stuck his hands. Now his fingers were also quilled.

    â€œOh, Quillboy, my brother, let me help you. Please, be still.”
    But first, Omakayas lifted her knife yet another time to deal with the little porcupine, which was trying to sneak away. To her surprise, Pinch, or Quill, as he’d be known once this story was told, said, “No, leave it.”
    â€œGaawiin, I’m hungry!” said Omakayas.
    â€œMe too, but I’ll catch something else,” said Pinch.
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œA warrior does not take revenge on the helpless,” said Pinch solemnly. “I shall spare its life.”
    â€œWell, I’ll leave it for now,” said Omakayas, eyeing the juicy creature, “but once you suffer the removal of these quills you may decide to revenge yourself. This porcupine wasn’t all that helpless.”Pinch let his sister pluck out the quills with careful fingers, making a noise as each one came out.
    â€œOw! Wah! Ow-wahee- oooh !”
    Omakayas put each quill on a piece of bark until she had a little stack, and when she was finished she meticulously wrapped the quills in the bark and put them in the pouch at her waist.
    By now the porcupine was watching them curiously, no longer interested in leaving. Quill plucked a little soft bark from the base of a green stick and gave it to the trusting creature. It made a happy little clucking sound and began to munch.
    â€œPerhaps,” he said in a portentous voice, “this will be my medicine animal.”
    â€œI will make you something with these quills, to honor your great battle with the gaag,” said Omakayas.
    â€œAhhh, sister, you do me too much honor,” said Quillboy. “Way too much. I wish you’d just forget about the battle, but let’s keep this little gaag.”
    â€œAlas, I can’t forget,” said Omakayas. “The memory of your fierce display is burned into my heart!” It was bad of her, but she still wanted to laugh. Now poor Quillboy was pocked with little holes all over his arm and shoulders. The hole in his nose made him even more ridiculous.
    â€œYou look like you were in a battle with a thousand miniature warriors. And they hit you with their arrows. Tiny ones.” Omakayas twisted her face to stop her laughter,but a snort escaped. She pretended to control herself. “My brother, I am in awe of the great deed you did today!”
    â€œThen I’m making a fire,” said Pinch. “Give me your striker. If our enemies discover us, I’ll quill them to death. I am not Quillboy, but Quill. Just Quill. The great Quill! We’re going to feast on my courage now.”
    Omakayas turned, though she didn’t much feel like killing the little porcupine. She lifted her knife one last time.
    â€œNo! Don’t kill my porcupine! I’ll find some other food!”
    Pinch strode out into the lake until the water was thigh-deep. Omakayas was exasperated with her brother’s odd behavior and was now even hungrier. Pinch stood dramatically in the shallows and said, “Look!”
    He plunged his hand down and, to his shock, came up with a fish.
    â€œWhat?” he said, gaping at the fish in his hand. He ran to shore. “How? Look, sister! The porcupine is definitely a helping spirit!”
    Omakayas looked down at the little porcupine. It gazed shyly up at her. It blinked. You really can’t pet a porcupine, thought Omakayas. What would Quill do with it?
    Quill threw the fish at Omakayas’s feet with an annoying grunt, just like the grown-up warriors sometimes did when they killed a moose or a massive beaver.
    â€œIt’s