To-night Unk-Wunk was very keen upon a new trail, but you would never have suspected it from his manner, because he never hurried. Still, if you knew him very well indeed, you might detect that his gait was rather more confident than usual, that in spite of his devious turnings aside, he always returned again to the same trail. All day the two porcupines had slept well in the round, deeply hollowed-out hole of a spruce tree, and between naps Unk-Wunk had watched with growing interest a thin, blue spiral of smoke as it filtered and wavered through the tops of the tall spruces far above. Upon several occasions the porcupine had seen similar trails of mysterious blue smoke, and whenever, out of sheer curiosity, he had followed the smoke to its lair, always had he been repaid for his long journey, because smoke usually meant a camp, and campers recklessly threw away much food, more especially bones, bacon rinds, and even, pieces of mouldy pork or ham. So Unk-Wunk, the wise one, lifted his blunt muzzle from time to time and sniffed deeply of the faint, delicious odours which sudden winds blew in whiffs from the far-off camp. As soon as it commenced to grow dusky down below, Unk-Wunk grunted to his mate to follow, and together they started off upon their raids. Naturally selfish of nature and secretive is the porcupine, and when an inquisitive intruder ventured to cross Unk-Wunk's trail, he would hold his own ground, never stirring from his tracks, but, standing sullenly in the path, force everything to turn out for him. Or, should they presume to show courage enough to face him, he would simply drop right down in his tracks, roll himself into the well-known prickly ball, and let them come on. This they usually decided not to do in the end, for most wanderers along the trails were not deceived; well they knew that out of his small, dull-appearing eyes Unk-Wunk was craftily watching their every movement, waiting for them to come near enough to him to slap them with his barb-laden tail. Thus Unk-Wunk and his mate grubbed along, not too hurriedly, which would have been a mistake, for some other watcher might have its curiosity aroused and follow them, and they would perhaps be compelled to share their find with another. Finally following devious trails, the porcupines reached the deserted camp. Unk-Wunk was glad there was no one there, because once, when he had gnawed very loudly, a sleeping man had been awakened and fired a gun at him. Wandering in and out among the blackened embers groped Unk-Wunk, grunting impatiently while nosing over a pile of empty tins cans. But soon, to his joy, he discovered a bone which he rasped and rasped, pushing away his mate when she presumed to touch it. Next, oh, joy, he found a long bacon rind. He actually fought with his mate for this, forcing her to go back to a greasy board which he had been gnawing.