were hiding in an old hollow log close by.

Peter had whispered the news in the ear of each of the little forest
and meadow people and had told them how Prickly Porky was even then
sitting with his back against the opening in the hollow log.

Every one had thought this the best joke ever, for, of course, they
all knew that Reddy Fox and Shadow the Weasel could not get out past
the thousand little spears hidden in the long coat of Prickly Porky.

Prickly Porky settled himself very comfortably and began to tell
stories about his home, way up in the North Woods. Every few minutes
he would rattle the thousand little spears in his coat, and though no
one could see Reddy Fox and Shadow the Weasel inside the hollow log,
every one could guess just how little shivers were running up and down
the backbones of the two little scamps held prisoners there.

Prickly Porky told how in the cold, cold winter the snow piled up and
piled up in his far northern home, until nearly all the forest folk
who lived there had to make a long journey into the South, or else
went into warm, snug hollows in the trees or caves in the rocks and
slept the long winter through, just as Johnny Chuck does. He told how
the Indians came through the great forest on big webbed shoes, that
kept them from sinking into the snow, and hunted for Lightfoot the
Deer, and how they never bothered Prickly Porky, but always treated
him with the greatest respect. He told so many, many interesting
things about the great North Woods, that all the little meadow people
and forest folk gathered close around to listen, but every few
minutes, while he was talking, he would shake his thousand little
spears, and then every one would smile.