Things began to look more promising and Unk-Wunk and his mate were so busy with their foraging, they utterly failed to hear the soft, velvet, padded footsteps of another, who had been following their trail from the first. They failed also to catch the gleam of a pair of blazing, yellow eyes which peered out at them maliciously from behind the blackened background of a stump, watching, watching their every movement. It was a large tawny wildcat. For some time the cat watched the porcupines, lashing its tail softly against the pliant ferns; each instant the tail seemed to switch a trifle more impatiently; the wildcat was making ready for an attack. Finally, unable to endure their grunts of joy an instant longer, for the cat was gaunt with hunger, it crouched low, then shot right into the very centre of the camp. Spitting, snarling, yelling its horrid wails, which echoed through the woods, it charged upon the porcupines. Regardless of Unk-Wunk's raised, quilly armour it flew straight at him, tussling, scuffling, spitting and snarling, eager to take away the bone. [Illustration: SPITTING, SNARLING, YELLING ... IT CHARGED UPON THE PORCUPINES.] "Slap." The tail of the porcupine, laden with its most deadly quills, landed right between the blazing, yellow eyes of the wildcat, almost blinding it. Then a terrific battle took place; the whirling wildcat, mad with pain, tore about in a wide circle, scattering blackened firebrands in all directions. It looked, for a time, as if a small cyclone had struck the camp. All the while the cat kept up its uncanny screams which struck sudden terror to many a small wild thing along the trails, sending them cowering back into their dens and hidden coverts. Under the whirling rain of ashes and embers, wise Unk-Wunk and his mate managed to sneak off into the woods unobserved. And at last the wildcat, angry and defeated, slunk away, rubbing its snout, trying to rid itself of the awful quills, spitting and scolding as it went. But the really tragic part of all this was what followed. Back in the deserted camp had lain one sullen, smouldering firebrand. It might have died out of its own accord in time had it not been disturbed. But the wild scuffle between the wildcat and the porcupine had revived it, tossing it right into a bed of dry leaves and sun-baked ferns.