His leg was torn to the bone, but the bone itself was untouched.

He waited until the moon had risen before he crawled out of his hole.
His leg had grown stiff, but it had stopped bleeding, though his whole body was racked by a terrible pain.

A dozen Papayuchisews, all holding right to his ears and nose, could not have hurt him more.

Every time he moved, a sharp twinge shot through him; and yet he persisted in moving.
Instinctively he felt that by traveling away from the hole he would get away from danger.

This was the best thing that could have happened to him, for a little later a porcupine came wandering along, chattering to itself in its foolish, good-humored way, and fell with a fat thud into the hole.