An episode appeared twice a month
in The Michigan Farmer magazine.
Whitepaw Gets Help
"The next day the little bear came out of the den with the quills
still in his nose," Uncle Joe continued when we visited him the
following morning. "He seemed in great pain and the flies took
delight in torturing his swollen nose."
"What happens if the quills aren't taken out?" Jerry asked.
"The animal usually dies," Uncle Joe said. "I had a
dog, once, that met a porcupine. It was several days before he came
home. I pulled the quills out with a pair of pliers. He seemed to be
getting better, but one day he developed blood poisoning and died. If
the quills are taken out at once, though, the animal has a good chance
to get well.
"Well, Whitepaw seemed to grow worse," Uncle Joe continued.
"That afternoon I talked the matter over with Mrs. Spence. We both
felt that helping animals was as much in the line of duty as watching
for fires. She offered to take my place in the tower until I got back.
She said she could see me while I was on my way.
"Mrs. Spence and I took turns looking over the woods with the
binoculars. Not seeing the mother bear or Blackpaw nearby I decided
that it was a good time to go to help Whitepaw.
" 'You'd better ride Ranger,' Mrs. Spence suggested as I was leaving.
'A hurt bear is like a wounded dog. It might not understand that you
are trying to help it. Then, too, the mother bear may return more quickly
than you expect.' "
"Did she?" Jerry asked.
"Now, now; you're trying to get ahead of the story," Uncle
Joe laughed.
"Whitepaw was lying outside of the cave when I arrived,"
Uncle Joe continued. "He was trying to sleep but he whimpered as
if he were in great pain.
"I had left the horse a short distance back in the woods and now,
with a blanket in one hand and a pair of pliers in the other, I stood
within a few feet of the little fellow. The wind was blowing from Whitepaw
to me so he couldn't smell me as I approached.
"I hesitated an instant. Then, placing the pliers in my pocket,
I crept closer to Whitepaw with the blanket outspread between my hands.
"I don't believe Whitepaw was fully awake until after I had him
securely rolled up in the blanket. Then he pawed. He kicked. He grunted.
"I had three of those ten quills out when I paused. I had heard
Ranger neigh. I listened. Ranger neighed again. This time there was
a note of terror in his voice and I knew what that meant. The mother
bear had either smelled us or heard Whitepaw's squeal. If I left, there
were still seven quills in Whitepaw's nose. If I stayed, the mother
bear would think I was trying to hurt her cub and an enraged bear is
more than a match for a man armed with nothing but a pair of pliers.
"I picked the little bear up, blanket and all, and ran to where
I had tied Ranger. How the horse snorted when he smelled bear at close
range. He danced around the tree to which he was tied. Three times I
went around the tree after him, talking quietly as I went. Finally he
seemed to understand and allowed me to mount with Whitepaw in the saddle
in front of me.
"Mrs. Spence said later that we left not an instant too soon.
She had watched the whole thing from the tower. The mother bear reached
the cave just as we were riding off.
"Once at home I took out the rest of the quills. We decided to
keep Whitepaw for a few days until his nose healed and then take him
back to the cave. But it turned out otherwise for Whitepaw did not see
the cave for some time to come. In fact he was to leave Friendly Forest
altogether for awhile. And it was all on account of his nose."
Click HERE to read "Whitepaw
Goes On a Journey"
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© 2004 Leo VanMeer
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