Then up he jumped and ran over to Chiss, putting
his foot on the monster's neck and holding it a
prisoner. The body of the great porcupine was now
as smooth as leather, except for the holes where
the quills had been, for it had shot every single
quill in that one wicked shower.
"Let me go!" it shouted angrily. "How dare
you put your foot on Chiss?"
"I'm going to do worse than that, old boy,"
replied the Shaggy Man. "You have annoyed
travelers on this road long enough, and now
I shall put an end to you."
"You can't!" returned Chiss. "Nothing can
kill me, as you know perfectly well."
"Perhaps that is true," said the Shaggy Man
in a tone of disappointment. "Seems to me I've
been told before that you can't be killed. But if
I let you go, what will you do?"
"Pick up my quills again," said Chiss in a
sulky voice.
"And then shoot them at more travelers? No;
that won't do. You must promise me to stop
throwing quills at people."
"I won't promise anything of the sort," declared
Chiss.
"Why not?"
"Because it is my nature to throw quills, and
every animal must do what Nature intends it
to do. It isn't fair for you to blame me. If it were
wrong for me to throw quills, then I wouldn't
be made with quills to throw.
Pages:
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132