`May I have the beautiful skin, father? And will you tell me what will be the best use to make of it?'
`I advise you to skin the animal very carefully, and of the handsome black and yellow tail, make a hunting-belt for yourself. The paws--let me see--why, I fancy the paws might be made famous cases for knife, fork and spoon, and look well hanging from the belt. The skin of the body you had better preserve until you find some suitable use for it.'
`Oh, father, what a splendid plan!' cried Jack. `Do tell me some good use for my porcupine.'
`I think its feet may make cases also; at least, you may try. The quills, I am sure, may be used for packing needles, and for tipping arrows, and I should try to make defensive armour for the dogs out of the rest. They may fall in with foes more dangerous than any we have yet seen.'
`To be sure, father, the very thing!' shouted Jack in high glee. `I have seen pictures of boar-hunts, in which the dogs were protected by a sort of leather coat of mail. That will be grand!'
After giving this advice, I got no peace until I had shown my boys how to act upon it, and in a short time each had his prize fastened up by the hind legs, and carefully slitting the skin, was stripping it from the carcase.
Ernest, meanwhile, was fetching large flat stones in order to form a fire-place, while Franz gathered sticks, as his mother was anxious to prepare some food.
`What sort of tree do you suppose this to be, father?' inquired Ernest, seeing me examining that under which we were encamping. `Is not the leaf something like a walnut?'
`There is a resemblance, but in my opinion these gigantic trees must be mangroves or wild figs. I have heard their enormous height described, and also the peculiarity of the arching roots supporting the main trunk raised above the soil.'
Just then little Franz came up with a large bundle of sticks, and his mouth full of something he was eating with evident satisfaction.
`Oh, mother!' cried he, `this is so good! So delicious!'
`Greedy little boy!' exclaimed she in a fright. `What have you got there? Don't swallow it, whatever you do. Very likely it is poisonous! Spit it all out this minute!' And his anxious mother quickly extracted from the rosy little mouth the remains of a small fig.