Grunting and squealing it pulled back and lashed its terrible
tail. To what effect? Merely to fill the log around with quills.
With all its strength the quill-pig pulled and writhed, but the
fisher was stronger. His claws enlarged the hole and when the
victim ceased from exhaustion, the fisher made a forward dash and
changed his hold from the tender nose to the still more tender
throat of the porcupine. His hold was not deep enough and square
enough to seize the windpipe, but he held on. For a minute or
two the struggles of Kahk were of desperate energy and its
lashing tail began to be short of spines, but a red stream
trickling from the wound was sapping its strength. Protected by
the log, the fisher had but to hold on and play a waiting game.
The heaving and backward pulling of Kahk were very feeble at
length; the fisher had nearly finished the fight. But he was
impatient of further delay and backing out of the hole he mounted
the log, displaying a much scratched nose; then reaching down
with deft paw, near the quill-pig's shoulder, he gave a sudden
jerk that threw the former over on its back, and before it could
recover, the fisher's jaws closed on its ribs, and crushed and
tore.
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