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diff --git a/38208-h/38208-h.htm b/38208-h/38208-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..db3ddbd --- /dev/null +++ b/38208-h/38208-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,14005 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Animal Story Book, edited by Andrew Lang. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + p.break {margin-top: 2.5em;} + + h1 {text-align: center; clear: both; font-weight: normal; margin-top: 3em;} + h2,h3 {text-align: center; clear: both; margin-top: 2em;} + + div.centered table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + + a {text-decoration: none;} + + img {border: none;} + + em {font-style: italic;} + em.em2 {font-style: normal;} + + .hidden {display: none;} + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-style: normal; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .amends {margin-left: 8%; margin-right: 8%;} + + .bbox {border: 2px black solid; padding: 1em; margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 3em;} + .bookbox {border: 2px black solid; padding: 2em; margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 3em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; width: 70%;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold; text-align: center; padding-bottom: 2em; font-size: 90%;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em;} + + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {text-align: left; padding-right: .3em;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: .2em; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + div.cenpoem {width: 23em; margin: auto; font-style: italic; max-width: 96%;} + div.cenpoem2 {width: 29em; margin: auto; max-width: 96%;} + div.cenpoem3 {width: 33em; margin: auto; max-width: 96%;} + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + .tdl {text-align: left; vertical-align: top; font-style: italic; padding-right: 2em;} /* left align cell */ + .tdr {text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom;} /* right align cell */ + + .lrgfont {font-size: 140%;} + .smlfont {font-size: 90%;} + .vsmlfont {font-size: 75%;} + .tinyfont {font-size: 50%;} + + .padtop {padding-top: 3em;} + .padbase {padding-bottom: 3em;} + .ipadbase {padding-bottom: 2em;} + + .hang {margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 1em; padding-right: 1em; text-indent: -1em;} + + .source {text-align: center; font-size: 90%; margin-bottom: 1.5em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Animal Story Book, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Animal Story Book + +Author: Various + +Editor: Andrew Lang + +Illustrator: H. J. (Henry Justice) Ford + +Release Date: December 4, 2011 [EBook #38208] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ANIMAL STORY BOOK *** + + + + +Produced by Louise Davies, Sam W. and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<div class="figcenter ipadbase" style="width: 406px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="406" height="600" +alt="Front cover of the book" /> +</div> + + + +<h1><span class="tinyfont">THE</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Animal Story Book</span></h1> + +<p class="center padtop"><span class="smlfont">EDITED BY</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="lrgfont">ANDREW LANG</span></p> + + +<p class="center padtop"><i>WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS BY H. J. FORD</i></p> + + +<div class="figcenter ipadbase" style="width: 416px;"> +<img src="images/asb01.jpg" width="416" height="360" +alt="Two oran otans" /> +</div> + + +<p class="center"><span class="lrgfont">LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.</span><br /> +FOURTH AVENUE & 30TH STREET, NEW YORK<br /> +<span class="smlfont">LONDON, BOMBAY, CALCUTTA AND MADRAS</span><br /> +1914</p> + + +<p class="center padtop smlfont">Copyright, 1896,<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Longmans, Green, & Co.</span><br /> +——<br /> +All rights reserved.</p> + +<p class="center padtop padbase"><span class="smcap">First Edition, September, 1896.<br /> +Reprinted, November, 1896, July, 1899,<br /> +June, 1904, February, 1909,<br /> +September, 1914.</span></p> + + + +<div class="bookbox"> +<p class="center"><span class="lrgfont">THE FAIRY BOOK SERIES</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Edited by Andrew Lang</span><br /> +<span class="smlfont">New and Cheaper Issue</span><br /> +————<br /> +EACH VOLUME, $1.00 NET<br /> +————</p> + +<div class="hang"> +<p>THE BLUE FAIRY BOOK. With 138 Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE RED FAIRY BOOK. With 100 Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE GREEN FAIRY BOOK. With 101 Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE GREY FAIRY BOOK. With 65 Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE YELLOW FAIRY BOOK. With 104 Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE PINK FAIRY BOOK. With 67 Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE BLUE POETRY BOOK. With 100 Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE TRUE STORY BOOK. With 66 Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE RED TRUE STORY BOOK. With 100 Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE ANIMAL STORY BOOK. With 67 Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE RED BOOK OF ANIMAL STORIES. With 65 Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE ARABIAN NIGHTS ENTERTAINMENTS. With 66 Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE VIOLET FAIRY BOOK. With 8 Coloured Plates and 54 other Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE CRIMSON FAIRY BOOK. With 8 Coloured Plates and 43 other Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE BROWN FAIRY BOOK. With 8 Coloured Plates and 42 other Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE OLIVE FAIRY BOOK. With 8 Coloured Plates and 43 other Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE ORANGE FAIRY BOOK. With 8 Coloured Plates and 50 other Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE BOOK OF ROMANCE. With 8 Coloured Plates and 44 other Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE RED ROMANCE BOOK. With 8 Coloured Plates and 44 other Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE BOOK OF PRINCES AND PRINCESSES. By Mrs. Lang. With 8 Coloured Plates and 43 other Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE RED BOOK OF HEROES. By Mrs. Lang. With 8 Coloured Plates and 40 other Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE LILAC FAIRY BOOK. With 6 Coloured Plates and 46 other Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE ALL SORTS OF STORIES BOOK. By Mrs. Lang. With 5 Coloured Plates and 43 other Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE BOOK OF SAINTS AND HEROES. By Mrs. Lang. With 12 Coloured Plates and 18 other Illustrations.</p> +<p>THE STRANGE STORY BOOK. By Mrs. Lang. With Portrait of Andrew Lang, 12 Coloured Plates and 18 other Illustrations.</p> +</div> + +<p class="center">————<br /> +LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO., NEW YORK</p> +</div> + + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 393px;"> +<img src="images/asb02.jpg" width="393" height="600" +alt="Androcles with his arms around the lion" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">ANDROCLES IN THE ARENA</p> + + + + +<p class="center padtop">To<br /> +<br /> +<span class="lrgfont">MASTER FREDERICK LONGMAN</span><br /> +</p> + + +<div class="cenpoem"> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This year our Book for Christmas varies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deals not with History nor Fairies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(I can’t help thinking, children, you<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Prefer a book which is <em class="em2">not</em> true).<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We leave these intellectual feasts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To talk of Fishes, Birds, and Beasts.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">These—though his aim is hardly steady—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">These are, I think, a theme for Freddy!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trout, though he is not up to fly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He soon will catch—as well as I!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So, Freddy, take this artless rhyme,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And be a Sportsman in your time!<br /></span> +</div> +</div> +</div> + + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>vii]</a></span></p> + +<h2>PREFACE</h2> + + +<p>Children who have read our Fairy Books may have +noticed that there are not so very many fairies in +the stories after all. The most common characters +are birds, beasts, and fishes, who talk and act like +Christians. The reason of this is that the first people +who told the stories were not very clever, or, if +they were clever, they had never been taught to read +and write, or to distinguish between Vegetable, Animal, +and Mineral. They took it that all things were +‘much of a muchness:’ they were not proud, and +held that beast and bird could talk like themselves, +only, of course, in a different language.</p> + +<p>After offering, then, so many Fairy Books (though +the stories are not all told yet), we now present you +(in return for a coin or two) with a book about the +friends of children and of fairies—the beasts. The +stories are all true, more or less, but it is possible +that Monsieur Dumas and Monsieur Théophile +Gautier rather improved upon their tales. I own +that I have my doubts about the bears and serpents +in the tales by the Baron Wogan. This gentleman’s +ancestors were famous Irish people. One of them +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>viii]</a></span> +held Cromwell’s soldiers back when they were pursuing +Charles II. after Worcester fight. He also +led a troop of horse from Dover to the Highlands, +where he died of a wound, after fighting for the King. +The next Wogan was a friend of Pope and Swift; +he escaped from prison after Preston fight, in 1715, +and, later, rescued Prince Charlie’s mother from confinement +in Austria, and took her to marry King +James. He next became Governor of Don Quixote’s +province, La Mancha, in Spain, and was still alive +and merry in 1752. Baron Wogan, descended from +these heroes, saw no longer any king to fight for, so +he went to America and fought bears. No doubt he +was as brave as his ancestors, but whether all his +stories of serpents are absolutely correct I am not +so certain. People have also been heard to express +doubts about Mr. Waterton and the Cayman. The +terrible tale of Mr. Gully and his deeds of war I know +to be accurate, and the story of Oscar, the sentimental +tyke, is believed in firmly by the lady who wrote it. +As for the stories about Greek and Roman beasts, +Pliny, who tells them, is a most respectable author. +On the whole, then, this is more or less of a true +story-book.</p> + +<p>There ought to be a moral; if so, it probably is +that we should be kind to all sorts of animals, and, +above all, knock trout on the head when they are +caught, and don’t let the poor things jump about till +they die. A chapter of a very learned sort was written +about the cleverness of beasts, proving that there must +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>ix]</a></span> +have been great inventive geniuses among beasts long +ago, and that now they have rather got into a habit +(which I think a very good one) of being content +with the discoveries of their ancestors. This led +naturally to some observations on Instinct and +Reason; but there may be children who are glad that +there was no room for this chapter.</p> + +<p>The longer stories from Monsieur Dumas were +translated from the French by Miss Cheape.</p> + +<p>‘A Rat Tale’ is by Miss Evelyn Grieve, who +knew the rats.</p> + +<p>‘Mr. Gully’ is by Miss Elspeth Campbell, to +whom Mr. Gully belonged.</p> + +<p>‘The Dog of Montargis,’ ‘More Faithful than +Favoured,’ and ‘Androcles’ are by Miss Eleanor +Sellar.</p> + +<p>Snakes, Bears, Ants, Wolves, Monkeys, and some +Lions are by Miss Lang.</p> + +<p>‘Two Highland Dogs’ is by Miss Goodrich Freer.</p> + +<p>‘Fido’ and ‘Oscar’ and ‘Patch’ are by Miss A. M. +Alleyne.</p> + +<p>‘Djijam’ is by his master.</p> + +<p>‘The Starling of Segringen’ and ‘Grateful Dogs’ +are by Mr. Bartells.</p> + +<p>‘Tom the Bear,’ ‘The Frog,’ ‘Jacko the Monkey’ +and ‘Gazelle’ are from Dumas by Miss Blackley.</p> + +<p>All the rest are by Mrs. Lang.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>xi]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Table of contents"> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"> </td> + <td class="tdr"><small>PAGE</small></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">‘Tom’: an Adventure in the Life of a Bear in Paris</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Saï the Panther</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_14">14</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Buzzard and the Priest</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Cowper and his Hares</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">A Rat Tale</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Snake Stories</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">What Elephants can Do</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Dog of Montargis</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">How a Beaver builds his House</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_64">64</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The War Horse of Alexander</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Stories about Bears</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Stories about Ants</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_82">82</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Taming of an Otter</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_88">88</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Story of Androcles and the Lion</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Monsieur Dumas and his Beasts</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_99">99</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Adventures of Pyramus</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_154">154</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Story of a Weasel</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Stories about Wolves</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_163">163</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Two Highland Dogs</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_174">174</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Monkey Tricks and Sally at the Zoo</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_191">191</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">How the Cayman was killed</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_194">194</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Story of Fido</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_200">200</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Beasts Besieged</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_205">205</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Mr. Gully</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_209">209</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Stories from Pliny</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_213">213</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Strange History of Cagnotte</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_215">215</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Still Waters Run Deep; or, the Dancing Dog</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_219">219</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Theo and his Horses: Jane, Betsy, and Blanche</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Madame Théophile and the Parrot</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_231">231</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Battle of the Mullets and the Dolphins</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_233">233</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Monkey Stories</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_237">237</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Eccentric Bird Builders</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_245">245</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Ship of the Desert</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_248">248</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Hame, hame, hame, where I fain wad be</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_253">253</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Nests for Dinner</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_257">257</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Fire-eating Djijam</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_259">259</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Story of the Dog Oscar</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_264">264</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Dolphins at Play</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_274">274</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Starling of Segringen</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_278">278</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Grateful Dogs</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_280">280</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Gazelle</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_282">282</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Cockatoo Stories</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_289">289</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Otter who was reared by a Cat</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_292">292</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Stories about Lions</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_295">295</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Builders and Weavers</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_307">307</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>xii]</a></span>More Faithful than Favoured</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_310">310</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Dolphins, Turtles, and Cod</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_316">316</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">More about Elephants</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_321">321</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Bungey</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_329">329</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Lions and their Ways</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_333">333</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The History of Jacko I.</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_338">338</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Signora and Lori</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_348">348</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Of the Linnet, Popinjay, or Parrot, and other Birds that can Speak</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_351">351</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Patch and the Chickens</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_354">354</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Fierce Falcon</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_356">356</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Mr. Bolt, the Scotch Terrier</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_360">360</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">A Raven’s Funeral</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_364">364</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">A Strange Tiger</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_368">368</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Halcyons and their Biographers</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_373">373</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Story of a Frog</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_375">375</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Woodpecker Tapping on the Hollow Oak Tree</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_384">384</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Dogs Over the Water</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_387">387</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Capocier and his Mate</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_394">394</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Owls and Marmots</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_396">396</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Eagles’ Nests</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_399">399</a></td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>xiii]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</i></h2> + + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="List of illustrations"> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"> </td> + <td class="tdr"><small>PAGE</small></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Tom is invited to the Ball</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo01">3</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">‘The Minuet was Tom’s greatest Triumph’</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo02">9</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Tom discovered in the Box</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo03">12</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">‘They at last all took hold of his Tail’</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo04">16</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Terror of the Orang-outang at Saï</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo05">17</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Saï has to take a Pill</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo06">21</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Cats no match for the Buzzard</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo07">27</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Buzzard carries off Hat and Wig</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo08">28</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">‘Seeing such a number of Rats, he left his Horses and ran for his Life’</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo09">37</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Rats in the Larder</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo10">41</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Baron kills the Snake</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo11">44</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Baron slays the Horned Snake</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo12">46</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">How the Indians make the Horned Snake disgorge his Dinner</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo13">48</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Elephant helps the Gardener</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo14">53</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">De Narsac recognises his Friend’s Dog</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo15">57</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Dog flies at Macaire in the presence of the King</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo16">61</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Baron kills the Bear</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo17">75</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Grizzly</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo18">79</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Androcles in the Lion’s Cave</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo19">93</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Androcles in the Arena</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo20">97</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">‘Monsieur Dumas, may I accommodate you with my Monkey and my Parrot?’</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo21">107</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Auvergnat and his Monkey</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo22">111</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Last of the Laidmanoirs and Mademoiselle Desgarcins</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo23">120</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Dumas arrives at Stora with his Vulture</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo24">127</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">‘It’s a regular Kennel’</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo25">131</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Jugurtha becomes Diogenes</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo26">135</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Pritchard and the Hens</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo27">142</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">‘Pritchard reappeared next moment with a Hare in his Mouth’</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo28">145</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Cartouche outwits Pyramus</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo29">156</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Mademoiselle de Laistre and her Weasel</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo30">161</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">‘When Day broke’</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo31">166</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>xiv]</a></span>The Death of the Famous Wolf of Gévaudan</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo32">171</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">‘The Long Vigil’</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo33">187</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Capture of the Cayman</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo34">197</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Wounding of Fido</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo35">201</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Dream of the Hungry Lion</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo36">207</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Cagnotte comes out of his Skin</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo37">217</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">‘And what do you Think she Saw’</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo38">221</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Blanche telling Ghost Stories to Jane in the Stable</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo39">227</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">How the Dolphins helped the Fishermen to catch the Mullets</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo40">234</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Two Oran Otans</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo41">238</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Baboons who stole the Poor Man’s Dinner</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo42">241</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Birds’ Nests for Dinner</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo43">258</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">‘In the full enjoyment of a large lighted Log on the Dining-room Carpet’</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo44">261</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">‘Oscar would charge and rout them’</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo45">265</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">‘Oscar felt rather Frightened’</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo46">269</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">‘Oh, Oscar, Oscar, lad what <em class="em2">have</em> you Done?’</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo47">271</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Boy goes to School on the Dolphin’s back</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo48">275</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Dumas finds Joseph standing on Gazelle’s back</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo49">284</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Dumas brings Gazelle to No. 109 Faubourg St.-Denis</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo50">288</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Lion caught in the Pit</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo51">297</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Ambush</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo52">300</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">‘All Three stopped to gaze at the Man who dared to put himself in their Path’</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo53">303</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">‘And pinned Him to the Ground’</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo54">314</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">‘Long, Long Ago.’ The Elephant dreams of his Old Companions</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo55">323</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Elephant falls on his knees before the little Scotch Terrier</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo56">327</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Bungey at the Spanish Ambassador’s House</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo57">331</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Hottentot noticed a huge Lion lying in the Water</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo58">335</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Annoyance of the Captain on finding his Flask of Rum upset</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo59">339</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Lori refuses to Share with the Signora</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo60">349</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">A Raven’s Funeral</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo61">365</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Tiger and his Friend</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo62">369</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Love’s disgraceful Behaviour out Shooting</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo63">377</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Sole Result of his Day’s Sport</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo64">380</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Mademoiselle Camargo becomes a Barometer</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo65">381</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Faithful Spaniel</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#illo66">389</a></td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>1]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>‘TOM’</i><br /> +<i>AN ADVENTURE IN THE LIFE OF +A BEAR IN PARIS</i></h2> + +<p class="source">From Alexandre Dumas.</p> + + +<p>Some sixty years ago and more, a well-known artist named +Décamps lived in Paris. He was the intimate friend of +some of the first authors, artists, and scientific men of the +day, and was devotedly fond of animals of all sorts. He +loved to paint them, and he kept quite a small ménagerie +in his studio where a bear, a monkey, a tortoise, and a +frog lived (more or less) in peace and harmony together.</p> + +<p>The bear’s name was ‘Tom,’ the monkey was called +‘Jacko I.,’<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> the frog was ‘Mademoiselle Camargo,’ and +the tortoise ‘Gazelle.’</p> + +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> +To distinguish him from Jacko II., a monkey belonging to Tony +Johannot, the painter.</p> +</div> + +<p>Here follows the story of Tom, the bear.</p> + +<p>It was the night of Shrove Tuesday in the year 1832. +Tom had as yet only spent six months in Paris, but he +was really one of the most attractive bears you could wish +to meet.</p> + +<p>He ran to open the door when the bell rang, he +mounted guard for hours together, halberd in hand, +standing on his hind legs, and he danced a minuet with +infinite grace, holding a broomstick behind his head.</p> + +<p>He had spent the whole day in the exercise of these +varied accomplishments, to the great delight of the frequenters +of his master’s studio, and had just retired to the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>2]</a></span> +press which did duty as his hutch, to seek a little repose, +when there was a knock at the street door. Jacko instantly +showed such signs of joy that Décamps made a shrewd +guess that the visitor could be no other than Fan, the +self-elected tutor in chief to the two animals—nor was he +mistaken. The door opened, Fan appeared, dressed as a +clown, and Jacko flung himself in rapture into his arms.</p> + +<p>‘Very good, very good,’ said Fan, placing the monkey +on the table and handing him a cane. ‘You’re really +a charming creature. Carry arms, present arms, make +ready, fire! Capital!’</p> + +<p>‘I’ll have a complete uniform made for you, and you +shall mount guard instead of me. But I haven’t come +for you to-night; it’s your friend Tom I want. Where may +he be?’</p> + +<p>‘Why, in his hutch, I suppose,’ said Décamps.</p> + +<p>‘Tom! here, Tom!’ cried Fan.</p> + +<p>Tom gave a low growl, just to show that he knew very +well who they were talking of, but that he was in no +hurry to show himself.</p> + +<p>‘Well!’ exclaimed Fan, ‘is this how my orders are +obeyed? Tom, my friend, don’t force me to resort to +extreme measures.’</p> + +<p>Tom stretched one great paw beyond the cupboard +without allowing any more of his person to be seen, and +began to yawn plaintively like a child just wakened from +its first sleep.</p> + +<p>‘Where is the broomstick?’ inquired Fan in threatening +tones, and rattling the collection of Indian bows, +arrows, and spears which stood behind the door.</p> + +<p>‘Ready!’ cried Décamps, pointing to Tom, who, on +hearing these well known sounds, had roused himself +without more ado, and advanced towards his tutor with a +perfectly innocent and unconscious air.</p> + +<p>‘That’s right,’ said Fan: ‘now be a good fellow, particularly +as one has come all this way on purpose to fetch +you.’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>3]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="illo01" id="illo01"></a> +<img src="images/asb03.jpg" width="600" height="393" +alt="Fan and Tom shake hands" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">TOM IS INVITED TO THE BALL</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>5]</a></span> +Tom waved his head up and down.</p> + +<p>‘So, so—now shake hands with your friends:—first +rate!’</p> + +<p>‘Do you mean to take him with you?’ asked +Décamps.</p> + +<p>‘Rather!’ replied Fan; ‘and give him a good time into +the bargain.’</p> + +<p>‘And where are you going?’</p> + +<p>‘To the Carnival Masked Ball, nothing less! Now +then Tom, my friend, come along. We’ve got a cab outside +waiting by the hour.’</p> + +<p>As though fully appreciating the force of this argument, +Tom trundled down stairs four steps at a time +followed by his friend. The driver opened the cab door, +and Tom, under Fan’s guidance, stepped in as if he had +done nothing else all his life.</p> + +<p>‘My eye! that’s a queer sort of a fancy dress,’ said +cabby; ‘anyone might take him for a real bear. Where +to, gentlemen?’</p> + +<p>‘Odéon Theatre,’ said Fan.</p> + +<p>‘Grrrooonnn,’ observed Tom.</p> + +<p>‘All right,’ said the cabman. ‘Keep your temper. +It’s a good step from here, but we shall get there all in +good time.’</p> + +<p>Half an hour later the cab drew up at the door of the +theatre. Fan got down first, paid the driver, handed out +Tom, took two tickets, and passed in without exciting any +special attention.</p> + +<p>At the second turn they made round the crush-room +people began to follow Fan. The perfection with which +the newcomer imitated the walk and movements of the +animal whose skin he wore attracted the notice of some +lovers of natural history. They pressed closer and +closer, and anxious to find out whether he was equally +clever in imitating the bear’s voice, they began to pull his +hairs and prick his ears—‘Grrrooonnn,’ said Tom.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>6]</a></span> +A murmur of admiration ran through the crowd—nothing +could be more lifelike.</p> + +<p>Fan led Tom to the buffet and offered him some little +cakes, to which he was very partial, and which he proceeded +to swallow with so admirable a pretence of voracity +that the bystanders burst out laughing. Then the mentor +poured out a tumbler full of water, which Tom took gingerly +between his paws, as he was accustomed to whenever +Décamps did him the honour of permitting him to appear +at table, and gulped down the contents at one draught. +Enthusiasm knew no bounds! Indeed such was the +delight and interest shown that when, at length, Fan +wished to leave the buffet, he found they were hemmed +in by so dense a crowd that he felt nervous lest Tom +should think of clearing the road with claws and teeth. +So he promptly led his bear to a corner, placed him with +his back against the wall, and told him to stay there till +further orders.</p> + +<p>As has been already mentioned, this kind of drill was +quite familiar to Tom, and was well suited to his natural +indolence, and when a harlequin offered his hat to complete +the picture, he settled himself comfortably, gravely +laying one great paw on his wooden gun.</p> + +<p>‘Do you happen to know,’ said Fan to the obliging +harlequin, ‘<em>who</em> you have lent your hat to?’</p> + +<p>‘No,’ replied harlequin.</p> + +<p>‘You mean to say you don’t guess?’</p> + +<p>‘Not in the least.’</p> + +<p>‘Come, take a good look at him. From the grace of +all his movements, from the manner in which he carries +his head, slightly on one side, like Alexander the Great—from +the admirable imitations of the bear’s voice—you +don’t mean to say you don’t recognise him?’</p> + +<p>‘Upon my word I don’t.’</p> + +<p>‘Odry!’<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> whispered Fan mysteriously; ‘Odry, in his +costume from “The Bear and the Pacha”!’</p> + +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> +A well-known actor of the time.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>7]</a></span> +‘Oh, but he acts a <em>white</em> bear, you know.’</p> + +<p>‘Just so; that’s why he has chosen a brown bear’s skin +as a disguise.’</p> + +<p>‘Ho, ho! You’re a good one,’ cried harlequin.</p> + +<p>‘Grrooonnn,’ observed Tom.</p> + +<p>‘Well, now you mention it, I <em>do</em> recognise his voice. +Really, I wonder it had not struck me before. Do ask +him to disguise it better.’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, yes,’ said Fan, moving towards the ball-room, +‘but it will never do to worry him. However, I’ll try to +persuade him to dance a minuet presently.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, could you really?’</p> + +<p>‘He promised to do so. Just give a hint to your +friends and try to prevent their teasing him.’</p> + +<p>‘All right.’</p> + +<p>Tom made his way through the crowd, whilst the +delighted harlequin moved from one mask to another, +telling his news with warnings to be discreet, which were +well received. Just then, too, the sounds of a lively galop +were heard, and a general rush to the ball-room took place, +harlequin only pausing to murmur in Tom’s ear: ‘I know +you, my fine mask.’</p> + +<p>‘Grroooonnn,’ replied Tom.</p> + +<p>‘Ah, it’s all very well to growl, but you’ll dance a +minuet, won’t you, old fellow?’</p> + +<p>Tom waved his head up and down as his way was +when anyone asked him a question, and harlequin, satisfied +with this silent consent, ran off to find a columbine +and to dance the galop.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Tom remained alone with the waiters; +motionless at his post, but with longing eyes turned +towards the counter on which the most tempting piles +of cake were heaped on numerous dishes. The waiters, +remarking his rapt attention, and pleased to tempt a +customer, stretched out a dish, Tom extended his paw +and gingerly took a cake—then a second—then a third: +the waiters seemed never tired of offering, or Tom of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>8]</a></span> +accepting these delicacies, and so, when the galop ended +and the dancers returned to the crush-room, he had made +short work of some dozens of little cakes.</p> + +<p>Harlequin had recruited a columbine and a shepherdess, +and he introduced these ladies as partners for the promised +minuet. With all the air of an old friend he whispered a +few words to Tom, who, in the best of humours after so +many cakes, replied with his most gracious growl. The +harlequin, turning towards the gallery, announced that his +lordship had much pleasure in complying with the universal +request, and amidst loud applause, the shepherdess +took one of Tom’s paws and the columbine the other. +Tom, for his part, like an accomplished cavalier, walked +between his two partners, glancing at them by turns with +looks of some surprise, and soon found himself with them +in the middle of the pit of the theatre which was used as +a ball-room. All took their places, some in the boxes, +others in the galleries, the greater number forming a +circle round the dancers. The band struck up.</p> + +<p>The minuet was Tom’s greatest triumph and Fan’s +masterpiece, and with the very first steps success was +assured and went on increasing with each movement, +till at the last figure the applause became delirious. Tom +was swept off in triumph to a stage box where the +shepherdess, removing her wreath of roses, crowned him +with it, whilst the whole theatre resounded with the +applause of the spectators.</p> + +<p>Tom leant over the front of the box with a grace all +his own; at the same time the strains of a fresh dance +were heard, and everyone hurried to secure partners +except a few courtiers of the new star who hovered round +in hope of extracting an order for the play from him, but +Tom only replied to their broadest hints with his perpetual +‘Grroonnn.’</p> + +<p>By degrees this became rather monotonous, and gradually +Tom’s court dwindled away, people murmuring that, +though his dancing powers were certainly unrivalled, his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>9]</a></span> +conversation was a trifle insipid. An hour later Tom was +alone! So fleeting is public favour.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="illo02" id="illo02"></a> +<img src="images/asb04.jpg" width="400" height="460" +alt="Tom dancing with two women" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">‘THE MINUET WAS TOM’S GREATEST TRIUMPH’</p> + +<p>And now the hour of departure drew near. The pit +was thinning and the boxes empty, and pale rays of +morning light were glinting into the hall when the box-opener, +who was going her rounds, heard sounds of snoring +proceeding from one of the stage boxes. She opened +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>10]</a></span> +the door, and there was Tom, who, tired out after his eventful +night, had fallen fast asleep on the floor. The box-opener +stepped in and politely hinted that it was six +o’clock and time to go home.</p> + +<p>‘Grrooonnn,’ said Tom.</p> + +<p>‘I hear you,’ said the box-opener; ‘you’re asleep, my +good man, but you’ll sleep better still in your own bed. +Come, come, your wife must be getting quite anxious! +Upon my word I don’t believe he hears a word I say. +How heavily he sleeps!’ And she shook him by the +shoulder.</p> + +<p>‘Grrrooonnn!’</p> + +<p>‘All right, all right! This isn’t a time to make believe. +Besides, we all know you. There now, they’re putting out +the lights. Shall I send for a cab for you?’</p> + +<p>‘Grrroooonnn.’</p> + +<p>‘Come, come, the Odéon Theatre isn’t an inn; come, +be off! Oh, <em>that’s</em> what you’re after, is it? Fie, Monsieur +Odry, fie! I shall call the guard; the inspector hasn’t +gone to bed yet. Ah, indeed! You won’t obey rules! +You are trying to beat me, are you? You would beat a +woman—and a former artiste to M. Odry, would you? For +shame! But we shall see. Here, help—police—inspector—help!’</p> + +<p>‘What’s the matter?’ cried the fireman on duty.</p> + +<p>‘Help!’ screamed the box-opener, ‘help!’</p> + +<p>‘What’s the matter?’ asked the sergeant commanding +the patrol.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, it’s old mother what’s her name, shrieking for help +in one of the stage boxes.’</p> + +<p>‘Coming!’ shouted the sergeant.</p> + +<p>‘This way, Mr. Sergeant, this way,’ cried the box-opener.</p> + +<p>‘All right, my dear, here I am. But where are you?’</p> + +<p>‘Don’t be afraid; there are no steps—straight on this +way—he’s in the corner. Oh, the rascal, he’s as strong +as a Turk!’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>11]</a></span> +‘Grrrooonnn,’ said Tom.</p> + +<p>‘There, do you hear him? Is that to be called a Christian +language?’</p> + +<p>‘Come, come, my friend,’ said the sergeant, who had +at last managed to distinguish Tom in the faint twilight. +‘We all know what it is to be young—no one likes a joke +better than I do—but rules are rules, and the hour for +going home has struck, so right about face, march! and +quick step too.’</p> + +<p>‘Grrrooonnn’—</p> + +<p>‘Very pretty; a first-rate imitation. But suppose we try +something else now for a change. Come, old fellow, step +out with a good will. Ah! you won’t. You’re going to +cut up rough, are you? Here, my man, lay hold and turn +him out.’</p> + +<p>‘He won’t walk, sergeant.’</p> + +<p>‘Well, what are the butt ends of your muskets for? +Come, a tap or two will do no harm.’</p> + +<p>‘Grrrooonnn—Grrrooonnn—Grrrooonnn—’</p> + +<p>‘Go on, give it him well!’</p> + +<p>‘I say, sergeant,’ said one of the men, ‘it strikes me +he’s a <em>real</em> bear. I caught hold of him by the collar just +now, and the skin seems to grow on the flesh.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, if he’s a real bear treat him with every consideration. +His owner might claim damages. Go and fetch +the fireman’s lantern.’</p> + +<p>‘Grrrooonnn.’</p> + +<p>‘Here’s the lantern,’ said a man; ‘now then, throw +some light on the prisoner.’</p> + +<p>The soldier obeyed.</p> + +<p>‘It is certainly a real snout,’ declared the sergeant.</p> + +<p>‘Goodness gracious me!’ shrieked the box-opener as +she took to her heels, ‘a real live bear!’</p> + +<p>‘Well, yes, a real live bear. Let’s see if he has any +name or address on him and take him home. I expect he +has strayed, and being of a sociable disposition, came in +to the Masked Ball.’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>12]</a></span> +‘Grrrooonnn.’</p> + +<p>‘There, you see, he agrees.’</p> + +<p>‘Hallo!’ exclaimed one of the soldiers.</p> + +<p>‘What’s the matter?’</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 407px;"> +<a name="illo03" id="illo03"></a> +<img src="images/asb05.jpg" width="407" height="430" +alt="The box-opener and sergeant discover Tom asleep" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">TOM DISCOVERED IN THE BOX</p> + +<p>‘He has a little bag hung round his neck.’</p> + +<p>‘Open the bag.’</p> + +<p>‘A card.’</p> + +<p>‘Read the card.’</p> + +<p>The soldier took it and read:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>13]</a></span> +‘My name is Tom. I live at No. 109 Rue Faubourg +St.-Denis. I have five francs in my purse. Two for a cab, +and three for whoever takes me home.’</p> + +<p>‘True enough; there are the five francs,’ cried the sergeant. +‘Now then, two volunteers for escort duty.’</p> + +<p>‘Here!’ cried the guard in chorus.</p> + +<p>‘Don’t all speak at once! Let the two seniors have +the benefit of the job; off with you, my lads.’</p> + +<p>Two of the municipal guards advanced towards Tom, +slipped a rope round his neck and, for precaution’s sake, +gave it a twist or two round his snout. Tom offered no +resistance—the butt ends of the muskets had made him +as supple as a glove. When they were fifty yards from +the theatre, ‘Bah!’ said one of the soldiers, ‘’tis a fine +morning. Suppose we don’t take a cab. The walk will +do him good.’</p> + +<p>‘Besides,’ remarked the other, ‘we should each have +two and a half francs instead of only one and a half.’</p> + +<p>‘Agreed.’</p> + +<p>Half an hour later they stood at the door of 109. After +some knocking, a very sleepy portress looked out.</p> + +<p>‘Look here, Mother Wideawake,’ said one of the guard; +‘here’s one of your lodgers. Do you recognise him?’</p> + +<p>‘Why, I should rather think so. It’s Monsieur +Décamps’ bear!’</p> + +<p>The same day, Odry the actor received a bill for little +cakes, amounting to seven francs and a half.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>14]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>SAÏ THE PANTHER</i></h2> + +<p class="source">From Loudon’s <i>Magazine of Natural History</i>.</p> + + +<p>About seventy or eighty years ago two little panthers +were deserted by their mother in one of the forests of +Ashantee. They were too young to get food for themselves, +and would probably have died had they not been +found by a passing traveller, and by him taken to the +palace as a present to the king. Here they lived and +played happily for several weeks, when one day the elder +and larger, whose name was Saï, gave his brother, in fun, +such a dreadful squeeze that, without meaning it, he suffocated +him. This frightened the king, who did not care to +keep such a powerful pet about him, and he gave him away +to Mr. Hutchison, an English gentleman, who was a sort +of governor for the English traders settled in that part of +Africa.</p> + +<p>Mr. Hutchison and Saï took a great fancy to each +other, and spent a great deal of time together, and when, +a few months later, Mr. Hutchison returned to Cape +Coast he brought Saï with him. The two friends always +had dinner at the same time, Saï sitting at his master’s +side and eating quietly whatever was given him. In +general he was quite content with his portion, but once or +twice, when he was hungrier than usual, he managed to +steal a fowl out of the dish. For the sake of his manners +the fowl was always taken from him, although he was +invariably given some other food to satisfy his hunger.</p> + +<p>At first the inhabitants of the castle and the children +were much afraid of him, but he soon became very tame, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>15]</a></span> +and his teeth and claws were filed so that he should not hurt +anyone, even in play. When he got a little accustomed +to the place, he was allowed to go where he liked within +the castle grounds, and a boy was told off to look after +him. Sometimes the boy would go to sleep when he +ought to have been watching his charge, and then Saï, +who knew perfectly well that this was not at all right, +would steal quietly away and amuse himself till he thought +his keeper would be awake again. One day, when he returned +from his wanderings, he found the boy, as usual, +comfortably curled up in a cool corner of the doorstep +sound asleep. Saï looked at him for a moment, and then, +thinking that it was full time for him to be taught his +duty, he gave him one pat on his head, which sent the +boy over like a ninepin and gave him a good fright, though +it did not do him any harm.</p> + +<p>Saï was very popular with everybody, but he had his +own favourites, and the chief of these was the governor, +whom he could not bear to let out of his sight. When +his master went out he would station himself at the +drawing-room window, where he could watch all that was +going on, and catch the first sight of his returning friend. +Being by this time nearly grown up, Saï’s great body took +up all the space, to the great disgust of the children, who +could see nothing. They tried to make him move, first by +coaxings and then by threats, but as Saï did not pay the +smallest attention to either one or the other, they at last +all took hold of his tail and pulled so hard that he was +forced to move.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 348px;"> +<a name="illo04" id="illo04"></a> +<img src="images/asb06.jpg" width="348" height="510" +alt="The three children try to get Saï to move from the window seat" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">‘THEY AT LAST ALL TOOK HOLD OF HIS TAIL’</p> + +<p>Strange to say, the black people were a great deal +more afraid of Saï than any of the white ones, and one of +his pranks nearly caused the death of an old woman who +was the object of it. It was her business to sweep out +and keep clean the great hall of the castle, and one morning +she was crouching down on all fours with a short +broom in her hand, thinking of nothing but how to get +the dust out of the floor, when Saï, who had hidden +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>16]</a></span> +himself under a sofa, and was biding his time, suddenly sprang +on to her back, where he stood triumphantly. The old +woman believed her last hour had come, and the other +servants all ran away shrieking, lest it should be their +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"><!-- original location of Terror illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>19]</a></span> +turn next. Saï would not budge from his position till the +governor, who had been alarmed by the terrible noise, came +to see what was the matter, and soon made Master Saï +behave himself.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 412px;"> +<a name="illo05" id="illo05"></a> +<img src="images/asb07.jpg" width="412" height="600" +alt="A sailor tries to stop the orang-outang hiding in the ship's rigging" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">TERROR OF THE ORANG-OUTANG AT SAÏ</p> + +<p>At this time it was settled that Saï was to travel to +England under the care of one of his Cape Coast friends +and be presented to the Duchess of York, who was very +fond of animals. In those days, of course, journeys took +much longer than they do now, and there were other +dangers than any which might arise from storms and +tempests. While the strong cage of wood and iron was +being built which was to form Saï’s house on the way to +England, his lady keeper thought it would be a good +opportunity to make friends with him, and used to spend +part of every day talking to him and playing with him; +for this, as everyone knows, is the only way to gain +the affection of bird or beast. It was very easy to love +Saï; he was so gentle and caressing, especially with +children; and he was very handsome besides in his silky +yellow coat with black spots, which, as the French say, +does not spoil anything. Many creatures and many men +might have made a great fuss at being shut into a cage +instead of being allowed to walk about their own house +and grounds, but everyone had always been kind to Saï, +so he took for granted it was all right, and made himself +as comfortable as he could, and was quite prepared to +submit to anything disagreeable that he thought reasonable. +But it very nearly happened that poor Saï had no +voyage at all, for while he was being hauled from the +canoe which had brought him from the shore into the ship, +the men were so afraid to come near him that they let +his cage fall into the sea, and if the sailors from the vessel +had not been very quick in lowering a boat it would have +been too late to save him. As it was, for many days he +would not look up or eat or speak, and his friend was +quite unhappy about him, although the same symptoms +have sometimes been shown by human beings who have +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>20]</a></span> +only been <em>on</em> the sea instead of <em>in</em> it. At last he was +roused from his sad condition by hearing the lady’s voice. +He raised his head and cocked his ears, first a little, then +more; and when she came up to the cage he rolled over +and over with delight, and howled and cried and tried to +reach her. When he got a little calmer she told him to +put his paws through the bars and shake hands, and from +that moment Saï was himself again.</p> + +<p>Now it was a very strange taste on the part of a +panther whose fathers and grandfathers had lived and +died in the heart of African forests, but Saï loved nothing +so much as lavender water, which white people use a +great deal in hot countries. If anyone took out a handkerchief +which had been sprinkled with lavender water, +Saï would instantly snatch it away, and in his delight +would handle it so roughly that it was soon torn to atoms. +His friend in charge knew of this odd fancy, and on the +voyage she amused herself regularly twice a week with +making a little cup of paper, which she filled with the +scent and passed through the bars, taking care never to +give it him till he had drawn back his claws into their +sheaths. Directly he got hold of the cup Saï would roll +over and over it, and would pay no attention to anyone as +long as the smell lasted. It almost seemed as if he liked +it better than his food!</p> + +<p>For some reason or other the vessel lay at anchor for +nearly two months in the river Gaboon, and Saï might +have been allowed to leave his cage if he had not been an +animal of such very strong prejudices. Black people he +could not endure, and, of course, they came daily in swarms +with food for the ship. Pigs, too, he hated, and they ran +constantly past his cage, while as for an orang-outang +monkey about three feet high, which a black trader once +tried to sell to the sailors, Saï showed such mad symptoms +at the very sight of it that the poor beast rushed in terror +to the other end of the vessel, knocking down everything +that came in its way. If the monkey took some time to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"><!-- original location of Pill illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>23]</a></span> +recover from his fright, it was very long before Saï could +forget the shock he had received. Day and night he +watched and listened, and sometimes, when he fancied his +enemy was near, he would give a low growl and arch his +back and set up his tail; yet, as far as we know, he had +never from his babyhood killed anything.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="illo06" id="illo06"></a> +<img src="images/asb08.jpg" width="600" height="370" +alt="A sailor helps his keeper give Saï his medicine" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">SAÏ HAS TO TAKE A PILL</p> + +<p>But when at last the winds were favourable, and the +ship set sail for the open sea, other adventures were in +store for the passengers. Pirates infested the coast of +Africa in those days, and they came on board and carried +off everything of value, including the stores of provisions. +The only things they did not think worth removing were +the parrots, of which three hundred had been brought +by the sailors, and as these birds could not stand the cold, +and died off fast as the ship steered north, Saï was allowed +one a day, which just managed to keep him alive. Still, +there is very little nourishment to be got out of a parrot, +especially when you eat it with the feathers on, and Saï +soon became very ill and did not care even for parrots. +His keeper felt his nose and found it dry and feverish, so +she begged that she might take him out of his cage and +doctor him herself. A little while before, Saï would have +been enchanted to be free, but now he was too ill to +enjoy anything, and he just stretched himself out on deck, +with his head on his mistress’s feet. Luckily she had +some fever medicine with her, good for panthers as well +as men and women, and she made up three large pills +which she hoped might cure Saï. Of course it was not to +be expected that he would take them of his own free will, +so she got the boy who looked after him to hold open his +mouth, while she pushed down the pills. Then he was +put back into his cage, the boy insisting on going with +him, and both slept comfortably together. In a few days, +with the help of better food than he had been having, he +got quite well, and on his arrival in England won the +admiration of the Duchess of York, his new mistress, by +his beauty and gentle ways. As his country house was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>24]</a></span> +not quite ready for him, he was left for a few weeks +with a man who understood animals, and seemed contented +and happy, and was allowed to walk about as he +liked. Here the Duchess of York used constantly to visit +him and play with him, even going to see him the very +day before he—and she—were to move into the country. +He was in excellent spirits, and appeared perfectly well, +but he must somehow have taken a chill, for when, on the +following day, the Duchess’s coachman came to fetch him, +he found poor Saï had died after a few hours’ illness from +inflammation of the lungs.</p> + +<p>After all he is not so much to be pitied. He had had +a very happy life, with plenty of fun and plenty of kindness, +and he had a very rapid and painless death.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>25]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>THE BUZZARD AND THE PRIEST</i></h2> + +<p class="source">Bingley’s <i>Animal Biography</i>.</p> + + +<p>About one hundred and forty years ago a French priest +received a present of a large brown and grey bird, which +had been taken in a snare intended for some other +creature, and was very wild and savage. The man who +brought it was quite ignorant what kind of bird it was, +but the priest knew it to be the common buzzard, and +made up his mind to try to tame it. He began by +keeping it shut up, and allowing it to take no food except +out of his hand, and after about six weeks of this treatment +it grew much quieter, and had learnt to know its +master. The priest then thought it would be safe to give +the buzzard a little more freedom, and after carefully +tying its wings, so that it could not fly away, he turned it +out into the garden. Of course it was highly delighted to +find itself in the sun once more, and hopped about with +joy, and the time passed quickly till it began to get +hungry, when it was glad to hear its master calling it to +come in to dinner. Indeed, the bird always seemed so fond +of the priest, that in a few days he thought he might +leave it quite free, so he unfastened its wings and left them +loose, merely hanging a label with his own name round +its neck, and putting a little bell round its leg. But what +was the poor man’s disgust, to see the buzzard instantly +spread out its great wings and make for the neighbouring +forest, deaf to all his calls! He naturally expected that, +in spite of his trouble and precautions, the bird had +flown away for ever, and sat sadly down to prepare his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>26]</a></span> +next day’s sermon. Now sermons are things that take +up a great deal of attention, and he had almost forgotten +his lost favourite when he was startled by a tremendous +noise in the hall outside his study, and on opening the +door to see what was the matter, he saw his buzzard +rushing about, followed by five others, who were so +jealous of its copper plate and bell, that they had tried to +peck them off, and the poor thing had flown as fast as it +could to its master’s house, where it knew it was safe.</p> + +<p>After this it took care not to wander too far from +home, and came back every night to sleep on the priest’s +window sill. Soon it grew bolder still, and would sit on +the corner of the table when he was at dinner, and now and +then would rub his head against his shoulder, uttering +a low cry of affection and pleasure. Sometimes it would +even do more, and follow him for several miles when he +happened to be riding.</p> + +<p>But the buzzard was not the only pet the priest had +to look after. There were ducks, and chickens, and dogs, +and four large cats. The ducks and chickens it did not +mind, at least those that belonged to the house, and it +would even take its bath at the same time with the +ducklings, and never trod upon them when they got in +its way, or got cross and pecked them. And if hawks or +any such birds tried to snap up the little ones who had +left their mother’s wing to take a peep at the world, +the buzzard would instantly fly to their help, and never +once was beaten in the battle. Curiously enough, however, +it seemed to think it might do as it liked with the +fowls and ducks that belonged to other people, and so +many were the complaints of cocks and hens lamed and +killed, that the priest was obliged to let it be known that +he would pay for all such damage, in order to save his +favourite’s life. As to dogs and cats, it always got the +better of <em>them</em>; in any experiment which it amused the +priest to make. One day he threw a piece of raw meat +into the garden where the cats were collected, to be +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>27]</a></span> +scrambled for. A young and active puss instantly seized +it and ran away with her prize, with all the other cats +after her. But quick as she was, the buzzard, who had +been watching her movements from the bough of a tree, +was quicker still. Down it pounced on her back, squeezed +her sides with its claws, and bit her ears so sharply, that +she was forced to let go. In one moment another cat +had picked the morsel up in its teeth, but it did not hold +it long. The process that had answered for one cat +would answer for a second, as the buzzard very well +knew. Down he swooped again, and even when the +whole four cats, who saw in him a common enemy, +attacked the bird at once, they proved no match for him, +and in the end they were clever enough to find that out.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 404px;"> +<a name="illo07" id="illo07"></a> +<img src="images/asb09.jpg" width="404" height="295" +alt="The buzzard pecks at one of the cats" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE CATS NO MATCH FOR THE BUZZARD</p> + +<p>It is not easy to know what buzzards in general think +about things, but this one hated scarlet as much as any +bull. Whenever he saw a red cap on any of the peasants’ +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>28]</a></span> +heads, he would hide himself among the thick boughs +overhanging the road where the man had to pass, and +would nip it off so softly that the peasant never felt his +loss. He would even +manage to take off +the wigs which every +one wore then, and +that was cleverer +still, and off he would +carry both wigs and +caps to a tall tree in a +park near by, and hang +them all over it, like a +new kind of fruit.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 422px;"> +<a name="illo08" id="illo08"></a> +<img src="images/asb10.jpg" width="422" height="530" +alt="A man reacts with shock as his wig and hat are stolen" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE BUZZARD CARRIES OFF HAT AND WIG</p> + +<p>As may be imagined, +a bird so bold made +many enemies, and was +often shot at by the +keepers, but for a long +time it appeared to bear +a charmed life, and nothing +did it any harm. +However, one unlucky +day a keeper who was +going his rounds in the +forest, and who did not +know what a strange and +clever bird this buzzard +was, saw him on the back +of a fox which he had attacked +for want of something +better to do, and +fired two shots at them. One shot killed the fox; the +other broke the wing of the buzzard, but he managed to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>29]</a></span> +fly out of reach of the keeper, and hid himself. Meanwhile +the tinkling of the bell made the keeper guess +that this must be the priest’s pet, of which he had so +often heard; and being anxious to do what he could to +repair the damage he had done, he at once told the +priest what had happened. The priest went out directly +to the forest, and gave his usual whistle, but neither +on that evening nor on several others was there any +reply. At last on the seventh night he heard a low +answer, and on searching narrowly all through the wood, +the priest found the poor buzzard, which had hopped +nearly two miles towards its old home, dragging its broken +wing after it. The bird was very thin, but was enchanted +to see his old master, who carried him home and nursed +him for six weeks, when he got quite well, and was able +to fly about as boldly as ever.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>30]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>COWPER AND HIS HARES</i></h2> + +<p class="source">From Bingley’s <i>British Quadrupeds</i>.</p> + + +<p>No one was fonder of animals, or kinder to them, than +Cowper the poet, who lived towards the end of the last +century; but of all creatures he loved hares best, perhaps +because he, like them, was timid and easily frightened. +He has left a very interesting account of three hares that +were given to him when he was living in the country in +the year 1774, and as far as possible the poet shall tell +his own story of the friendship between himself and his +pets—Puss, Tiney, and Bess, as he called them.</p> + +<p>Cowper was not at all a strong man, and suffered +terribly from fits of low spirits, and at these times he +could not read, and disliked the company of people, who +teased him by giving him advice or asking him questions. +It was during one of these seasons of solitude and +melancholy that he noticed a poor little hare belonging +to the children of one of his neighbours, who, without +meaning really to be unkind, had worried the little thing +almost to death. Soon they got tired even of playing +with it, and the poor hare was in danger of being starved +to death, when their father, whose heart was more tender +than theirs, proposed that it should be given to their +neighbour Mr. Cowper.</p> + +<p>Now Cowper, besides feeling pity for the poor little +creature, felt that he should like to teach and train it, +and as just then he was too unhappy to care for his usual +occupations, he gladly accepted the present. In a very +short time Puss was given two companions, Tiney and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>31]</a></span> +Bess, and could have had dozens more if Cowper had +wanted them, for the villagers offered to catch him enough +to have filled the whole countryside if he would only give +the order.</p> + +<p>However, Cowper decided that three would be ample +for his purposes, and as he wished them to learn nice +clean habits, he began with his own hands to build them +a house. The house contained a large hall and three +bedrooms, each with a separate bed, and it was astonishing +how soon every hare knew its own bedroom, and +how careful he was (for in spite of their names they were +all males) never to go into those of his friends.</p> + +<p>Very soon all three made themselves much at home +in their comfortable quarters, and Puss, the first comer, +would jump on his master’s lap and, standing up on +his hind legs, would bite the hair on his temples. He +enjoyed being carried about like a baby, and would even +go to sleep in Cowper’s arms, which is a very strange +thing for a hare to do. Once Puss got ill, and then the +poet took care to keep him apart from the other two, for +animals have a horror of their sick companions, and are +generally very unkind to them. So he nursed Puss himself, +and gave him all sorts of herbs and grasses as medicine, +and at last Puss began to get better, and took notice +of what was going on round him. When he was strong +enough to take his first little walk, his pleasure knew no +bounds; and in token of his gratitude he licked his +master’s hand, first back, then front, and then between +every finger. As soon as he felt himself quite strong +again, he went with the poet every day, after breakfast, +into the garden, where he lay all the morning under a +trailing cucumber, sometimes asleep, but every now and +then eating a leaf or two by way of luncheon. If the +poet was ever later than usual in leaving the house, Puss +would down on his knees and look up into his eyes with +a pleading expression, or, if these means failed, he would +seize his master’s coat between his teeth, and pull as +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>32]</a></span> +hard as he could towards the window. Puss was, perhaps, +the pleasantest of all the hares, but Bess, who died +young, was the cleverest and most amusing. He had his +little tempers, and when he was not feeling very well, he +was glad to be petted and made much of; but no sooner +had he recovered than he resented any little attentions, +and would growl and run away or even bite if you attempted +to touch him. It was impossible really to tame +Tiney, but there was something so serious and solemn in +all he did, that it made you laugh even to watch him.</p> + +<p>Bess, the third, was very different from the other two. +He did not need taming, for he was tame from the beginning, +as it never entered into his head that anyone +could be unkind to him. In many things he had the +same tastes as his friends. All three loved lettuces, +dandelions, and oats; and every night little dishes were +placed in their bedrooms, in case they might feel hungry. +One day their master was clearing out a birdcage while +his three hares were sitting by, and he placed on the floor +a pot containing some white sand, such as birds use +instead of a carpet. The moment they saw the sand, +they made a rush for it and ate it up greedily. Cowper +took the hint, and always saw, after that, that sand was +placed where the hares could get at it.</p> + +<p>After supper they all spent the evenings in the parlour, +and would tumble over together, and jump over each +other’s backs, and see which could spring the farthest, +just like a set of kittens. But the cleverest of them all +was Bess, and he was also the strongest.</p> + +<p>Poor Bess! he was the first to die, soon after he +was grown up, and Tiney and Puss had to get on as best +they could without him, which was not half as much fun. +There was no one now to invent queer games, or to keep +the cat in order when it tried to take liberties; and no +one, too, to prevent Tiney from bullying Puss, as he was +rather fond of doing. Tiney lived to be nine, quite a respectable +age for a hare, and died at last from the effects +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>33]</a></span> +of a fall. Puss went on for another three years, and +showed no signs of decay, except that he was a little +less playful, which was only to be expected. His last act +was to make friends with a dog called Marquis, to whom +he was introduced by his master; and though the spaniel +could not take the place of Puss’s early companions, +he was better than nobody, and the two got on quite +happily together, till the sad day (March 9, 1796) when +Puss stretched himself at his master’s feet and died +peacefully and without pain, aged eleven years and +eleven months.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>34]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>A RAT TALE</i></h2> + + +<p>Huggy was an old rat when he died—very old indeed. +He was born in the middle of a corn-rick, and there he +might have lived his little life had not the farmer who +owned the rick caused it to be pulled down. That was +Huggy’s first experience of flitting, and it was done in +such a hurry that he had hardly time to be sorry. It +was pitch dark when his mother shook him up roughly +and told him to ‘come along, or he would be killed by +the farmer,’ and poor Huggy, blinking his sleepy eyes, +struggled out of his snug little bed into the cold black +night.</p> + +<p>Several old rats met him at the entrance, and sternly +bade him stay where he was and make no noise, for the +leader was about to speak. Huggy was wide-awake by +this time. The rat spirit of adventure was roused within +him by the scent of coming danger, and eagerly he +listened to the shrill, clear voice of the leader:</p> + +<p>‘Friends, old and young, this is not a time for many +words, but I want you all to know the cause of this +sudden disturbance. Last night I was scavenging round +the farmer’s kitchen, seeking what I might devour, when +in came the stable-boy tapping an empty corn-sieve +which he had in his hand. He said a few words to +the farmer, who rose hastily, and together they left the +kitchen, I following at a convenient distance. They went +straight to the stable, and talked for some time with their +backs to the corn-bin, which was standing open in the +window. After a while I managed to scramble up and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>35]</a></span> +peer into it, only to confirm what I dreaded most—the +corn-bin was empty! To-morrow they will pull down +this rick, thresh the corn, and replenish the empty bin. +So, my friends, unless we mean to die by dog, stick, or +fork, we had better be off as soon as it is daylight.’</p> + +<p>There was a shuffle of feet all round, and a general +rush of anxious mothers into the rick to fetch out their +young. Huggy was waiting at the entrance; so, as soon +as he caught sight of his mother, he raced off with her to +join the fast-assembling crowd at the back of the rick. +The leader ranged them in lines of ten abreast, and, after +walking up and down to see that all were in their places, +he gave a shrill squeak, and the column started. They +marched steadily for about two miles—slowly, of course, +because of the young ones. Nothing proved an obstacle +to them. Sometimes a high wall crossed their path, but +they merely ran up one side and down the other, as if it +was level road. Sometimes it was a broad river which +confronted them, but that they swam without hesitation—rats +will not stop at such trifles.</p> + +<p>At length they came to a field where a man with a +pair of horses was ploughing. His coat, in which his +dinner was wrapt, lay on the wall some little distance from +him. Seeing such a number of rats, he left his horses +and ran for his life, and hid behind a knoll, whence he +could view the proceedings without himself being seen. +To his great disgust, he saw the creatures first crowd +round his coat, then run over it, and finally eat out of his +pocket the bread and cheese his wife had provided for his +dinner!</p> + +<p>That was a stroke of luck for the rats. They had not +counted on so early a breakfast; so it was with lightsome +hearts they performed the rest of their journey.</p> + +<p>Huggy was very glad when it was over. He had never +been so far in his life—he was only three weeks old. +Their new home proved to be a cellar, which communicated +on one side with sundry pipes running straight to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>36]</a></span> +the kitchen, and on the other with a large ventilator +opening to the outside air. A paradise for rats! and as +to the inhabitants of the house—we shall see.</p> + +<p>It was early in the afternoon when they arrived, so +they had plenty of time to settle down before night. +Huggy, having selected his corner, left his mother to +make it comfortable for him, and scampered off for ‘a +poke round,’ as he called it. First he went to the +kitchen, peeped up through a hole in the floor, and, +seeing no one about, cautiously crept out and sniffed into +all the cupboards. As he was emerging from the last +he beheld a sight which made his little heart turn sick. +There, in a corner which Huggy had not noticed before, lay +a huge dog half asleep! And so great was Huggy’s fright +that he squeaked, very faintly indeed, yet loud enough to +set Master Dog upon his feet. Next minute they were +both tearing across the kitchen. Huggy was a wee bit in +front, but so little that he could feel the dog’s hot breath +behind him. There was the hole—bump—scrabble, +scrabble—Huggy was safe! Safe! yes—but oh, so +frightened!—and what made him smart so dreadfully? +Why, his tail ... was gone—bitten off by the dog! Ah, +Huggy, my poor little rat, if it had not been for that +foolish little squeak of fright you might have been as +other rats are—but now! Huggy almost squeaked again, +it was so very sad—and painful. Slowly he crept back +to the cellar, where he had to endure the jeers of his +young companions and the good advice of his elders.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="illo09" id="illo09"></a> +<img src="images/asb11.jpg" width="600" height="363" +alt="The ploughman runs away from the horde of rats" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">‘SEEING SUCH A NUMBER OF RATS, HE LEFT HIS HORSES AND RAN FOR HIS LIFE’</p> + +<p>It was some weeks before Huggy fully recovered himself, +and more weeks still before he could screw up his +courage to appear among his companions as the ‘tailless +rat;’ but at long and at last he did crawl out, and, +because he looked so shy and frightened, the other rats +were merciful, and let him alone. The old rat, too—the +leader—took a great fancy to him, and used to allow +Huggy to accompany him on his various exploits, which +was considered a great privilege among the older rats, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37"><!-- original location of Horses illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>39]</a></span> +and Huggy was very proud of it. One night he and the +leader were out together, when their walk happened to +take them (as it generally did) round by the pantry. As +a matter of course, they went in, and had a good meal off +a loaf which the careless table-maid had left standing on +the shelf. Beside the loaf was a box of matches, and +Huggy could not be happy till he had found out what was +inside. First he gnawed the box a little, then he dragged +it up and down, then he gnawed a little more, and, finding +it was not very good to eat, he began to play with it. +Suddenly, without any warning, there was a splutter and +a flare. Huggy and the leader were outside in a twinkling, +leaving the pantry in a blaze. Luckily no great +damage was done, for the flames were seen and put out +in time.</p> + +<p>So, little by little, Huggy was led on. In vain did his +mother plead with him to be careful. He was ‘a big rat +now, and could look after himself,’ he said. The following +week the leader organised a party to invade the hen-house. +Of course Huggy was among the number chosen. It required +no little skill to creep noiselessly up the broken +ladder, visiting the various nests ranged along each side +of the walls; for laying hens are nervous ladies, and, if +startled, make enough noise to waken a town. But the +leader had selected his party well, and not a sound was +made till the proper time came. Once up the ladder, each +rat took it in turn to slip in behind the hen, and gently +roll one egg at a time from under her. The poor birds +rarely resisted; experience had taught them long since +the futility of such conduct. It was the young and ignorant +fowls who gave all the trouble; they fluttered about +in a fright and disturbed the whole house. But the rats +knew pretty well which to go to; so they worked on without +interruption. When they had collected about a dozen +eggs, the next move was to take them safely down the +ladder into the cellar. This was very soon done. Huggy +lay down on his back, nestled an egg cosily between himself +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>40]</a></span> +and his two front paws; a feather was put through his +mouth, by which means a rat on either side dragged him +along. Huggy found it rather rough on his back going +down the ladder, but, with a good supper in view, he could +bear most things. The eggs having been brought thus to +the level of the ground, the rats dragged them in the same +way slowly and carefully down to the cellar.</p> + +<p>So time went on. Night after night parties of rats went +out, and each morning they returned with tales of adventure +and cunning—all more or less daring. But the leader +was getting old. Huggy had noticed for some time how +grey and feeble he was becoming; nor was he much surprised +when, one day, the leader told him that he (Huggy) +would have to take his place as leader of the rats. Two +days after this the old rat died, leaving Huggy to succeed +him; and a fine lot of scrapes did that rat and his +followers get into.</p> + +<p>The larder was their favourite haunt, where joints of +meat were hung on hooks ‘quite out o’ reach o’ them rats,’ +as the cook said. But Huggy thought differently, and in +a trice ten large rats had run up the wall and down the +hook, and were gobbling the meat as fast as they could. +But there was one hook in the centre of the ceiling which +Huggy could not reach; from this hook a nice fat duck +was suspended by a string. ‘If only I could get on to +that hook I should gnaw the string, and the duck would +fall, and——’</p> + +<p>Huggy got no further. An idea had come to him +which he communicated quickly to the others. The plan +seemed to be appreciated, for they all ran to an old chair, +which was standing just under this difficult centre hook. +The strongest rat went first, climbed up the back of the +chair, and balanced himself on the top; Number 2 followed, +and carefully balanced on Number 1; Number 1 then +squeaked, which meant he could bear no more. It was +a pity he could not stand <em>one</em> more; for, as they were, the +topmost rat could just reach the prize, and though he +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>41]</a></span> +nibbled all round as far as he +could, it was not what might +be called ‘a square meal.’ +The cook was indeed amazed +when, next morning, she +found only three-fourths of +her precious duck remaining. +‘Ah!’ she said, ‘I’ll be even +with you yet, you cunning +beasts!’ And that night she +sliced up part of a duck with +some cheese, and put it in +a plate on the larder floor. +At his usual hour, when all +was dark and quiet, Huggy +and his followers arrived, +and, seeing their much-coveted +prize under their +very noses, were cautious. +But Huggy was up to the +trick. ‘To-night and to-morrow +night you may eat +it,’ he said, ‘but beware of +the third.’ So they partook +of the duck, and enjoyed it +that night and the next, but +the third the dish was left +untouched.</p> + +<div class="figcenter ipadbase" style="width: 172px;"> +<a name="illo10" id="illo10"></a> +<img src="images/asb12.jpg" width="172" height="600" +alt="The rats in the larder" /> +</div> + +<p>The cook was up betimes +that morning, so that she +might bury the corpses before +breakfast. Her dog (the +same who had robbed Huggy +of his tail), according to his +custom, followed her into the +larder. On seeing the plate +just as she had left it the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>42]</a></span> +night before, the cook, in her astonishment, forgot the +dog, who, finding no one gainsay him, licked the dish +with infinite relish. Poor dog! In spite of all efforts to +save him he died ten minutes afterwards; and the cook +learnt her lesson also, for she never tried poisoning rats +again.</p> + +<p>Here end the chief events of Huggy’s life—all, at least, +that are worth recording.</p> + +<p>Some years after the death of the dog I was sitting in +the gloaming close to a steep path which led from the +cellar down to the river, when what should I see but +three large rats coming slowly towards me. The middle +one was the largest, and evidently blind, for he had in his +mouth a long straw, by which the other two led him carefully +down the path. As the trio passed I recognised the +centre one to be Huggy the Tailless.</p> + +<p>Next morning my little Irish terrier, Jick, brought him +to me in his mouth, dead; and I buried him under a Gloire +de Dijon in a sunny corner of the garden.</p> + + +<p class="break">Fantastic as some of the incidents may sound, they are, +nevertheless, true, having been collected mainly from an +old rat-catcher living in the town of Hawick.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>43]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>SNAKE STORIES</i></h2> + + +<p>In 1850 Baron de Wogan, a French gentleman, left his +native land and set sail for North America, to seek his +fortune and adventures. He was descended from two +noble adventurers, the Wogan who led a cavalry troop +from Dover to the Highlands, to fight for Charles II., and +the Wogan who rescued Queen Clementina, wife of James +III., from prison in Innspruck. In 1850 adventures, wild +beasts, and Red Indians were more plentiful than now, and +Wogan had some narrow escapes from snakes and bears. +Soon after coming to North America he had his first +adventure with a rattlesnake; he was then camping at the +gold fields of California, seeking for gold in order to have +money enough to start on his voyages of discovery. His +house was a log hut, built by himself, and his bed a sack +filled with dry oak leaves.</p> + +<p>One day, finding that his mattress required renewing, +he went out with the sack and his gun. Having filled the +sack with leaves, he went off with his gun in search of +game for his larder, and only came home at nightfall. +After having cooked and eaten his supper, he threw himself +on his new mattress, and soon was asleep. He +awoke about three, and would soon have fallen asleep +again, but he felt something moving in the sack. His +first thought was that it was a rat, but he soon felt by the +way it moved that it was no quadruped, but a reptile, no +rat, but a snake! He must have put it in the sack with +the leaves, as might easily happen in winter when these +creatures are torpid from the cold, and sleep all curled +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>44]</a></span> +up. With one leap the Baron was out of its reach, but +wishing to examine it more closely, he took his gun to +protect him in case of danger, and came near the bed +again; but the ungrateful beast, forgetting that they had +been bedfellows, threw itself on the gun and began to bite +the muzzle. Fearing that it might turn and bite him next +the Baron pulled the trigger, and hitting the serpent, +literally cut it in two. It measured two feet long, and +when the Baron cut off its tail, he found a quantity of +scales which made the +rattling sound from +which this serpent gets +its name.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 411px;"> +<a name="illo11" id="illo11"></a> +<img src="images/asb13.jpg" width="411" height="450" +alt="The Baron shoots at the snake" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE BARON KILLS THE SNAKE</p> + +<p>As soon as the Baron +had found enough gold, +he bought a mule whom +he called Cadi, and +whom he became very +fond of, and set off into +the backwoods in search +of sport and adventure. +(Poor Cadi eventually +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>45]</a></span> +met a terrible end, but that is a Bear story.) He soon +added another companion, a young Indian girl, Calooa by +name. She was the daughter of a chief of the Utah +tribe, and had been taken prisoner, with several other +women, by a tribe of hostile Indians whom the Baron +fell in with. She would have been tortured and then +burnt with the other prisoners had the Baron not saved +her life by buying her for a silk handkerchief, a knife +and fork, and some coloured pictures. She wandered +with him and shared all his adventures, till she was found +again by her tribe and taken back to them. One hot day +they had been marching together about thirty miles +through a country infested with panthers and pumas. The +Baron was heading the little procession, when suddenly a +cry from Calooa that she only used in moments of danger +made him turn round. Then he saw that what he had +taken to be a huge rotten branch of a tree, and had even +thought of taking with him for their camp fire, that evening, +was in reality an enormous serpent. It lay across +the path asleep, its head resting on the trunk of a tree. +The Baron raised his gun to his shoulder, and came nearer +the monster to get a good aim. He fired, but missed. +The horrid creature reared itself nearly on end and looked +at him with that fixed stare by which the serpent fascinates +and paralyses its victim. The Baron felt all the +fascination, but conquering it, he fired a second time, +and this time wounded the creature without killing it +outright. Though mortally wounded, the snake’s dying +struggles were so violent that the young trees all round +were levelled as if they had been cut with a scythe. As +soon as they were sure that life was extinct, Calooa and +the Baron came nearer to examine the snake’s dead body. +Though part of his tail was missing, he measured nevertheless +five yards long and eighteen inches round. +Thinking that it seemed of unusual girth, the Baron cut +it open with an axe, and found inside the body of a young +prairie wolf, probably about a week old. The peculiarity +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>46]</a></span> +of this snake was that +it gave out a strong +odour of musk, like +the sea serpent in Mr. +Kipling’s book.</p> + +<div class="figcenter ipadbase" style="width: 375px;"> +<a name="illo12" id="illo12"></a> +<img src="images/asb14.jpg" width="375" height="600" +alt="The Baron slays the horned snake" /> +</div> + +<p>The most horrible +serpent that the Baron +encountered and slew +was the horned snake; +he learned afterwards +from the Indians that +it is the most deadly +of all the snakes of +North America, for +not only is its bite +venomous, but its tail +has a sting which contains +the same poison. It +crawls like other snakes, +but when it attacks it +forms itself into a circle, +and then suddenly unbending +itself flings itself +like a lion on its victim, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>47]</a></span> +head forward and tail raised, thus attacking with both +ends at once. If by chance it misses its aim and its +tail strikes a young tree and penetrates the bark, that +tree immediately begins to droop, and before long withers +and dies. On the occasion when the Baron encountered +it, Calooa and he had been fleeing all night fearing an +attack of hostile Indians. About daylight they ventured +to stop to take rest and food. While Calooa lit the fire +the Baron took his gun and went in search of game. In +about half an hour he returned with a wild turkey. +When they had cooked and eaten it, he lay down and +fell asleep, but had only slept two hours when he awoke, +feeling his hand touched. It was Calooa, who woke him +with a terror-stricken face. Looking in the direction she +pointed, he saw about fifty yards away an enormous +horned snake wound round a branch of sassafras. It +was lying in wait for a poor little squirrel, that cowered +in the hollow of an oak. As soon as the squirrel dared +to show even the tip of its nose, the serpent flung itself +at it, but in vain, as its great head could not get into the +hole.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 344px;"> +<a name="illo13" id="illo13"></a> +<img src="images/asb15.jpg" width="344" height="380" +alt="A man attacks the snake with a club" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">HOW THE INDIANS MAKE THE HORNED SNAKE DISGORGE HIS DINNER</p> + +<p>‘Fortunately,’ the Baron says, ‘my gun was by my +side. I rose and went to the rescue of the defenceless +little creature. When the serpent saw me he knew he had +another sort of enemy to deal with, and hissing furiously +hurled himself in my direction, though without quitting his +branch. I stopped and took aim. The serpent evidently +understood my attitude perfectly, for unwinding himself +he began to crawl with all his speed towards me. Between +us there was fortunately an obstacle, a fallen chestnut tree; +to reach me he must either climb over it or go round, and +he was too furious to put up with any delay. Ten paces +from the tree I waited for him to appear, one knee on +the ground, my gun at my shoulder, and the other elbow +resting on my knee to steady my aim. At last I saw his +horrid head appear above the fallen tree, at the same +moment I fired, and the ball pierced his head through +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>48]</a></span> +and through, though without instantly killing him. +Quick as lightning he wound himself round a branch, +lashing out with his tail in all directions. It was his dying +struggle; slowly his fury subsided, and uncoiling himself +he fell dead alongside the tree. I measured him and +found he was eight feet long, and seven or eight inches +round. He was dark brown, and his head had two horns, +or rather hard knobs. Wishing to carry away some +souvenir to remember him by when I should be at home +again in France, I tried to cut off his horns, but found +it impossible. Out of curiosity I then took an axe and +cut him open, when I found inside a little bird, dazed +but living. Presently it revived and began to flutter +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>49]</a></span> +about, and soon flew away among the bushes and was +lost to sight. I did not then know that this is a common +occurrence, and that when the Indians find a serpent +asleep, as is generally the case after the creature has +gorged itself, they hit it on the head with a stick, which +makes it throw up what it has swallowed whole, and +its victims are often still living.’</p> + +<p>Calooa on one occasion had a narrow escape. She had +put her hand into a hollow in a branch of a cherry-tree +where was a blue jay’s nest, to take eggs as she thought. +Hardly had she put in her hand when she screamed with +pain; a rattlesnake that had taken possession of the nest +had stung her. The Baron, much alarmed, expected to +see Calooa die before his eyes. He did not know of the +remedy the Indians use for snake bites. Calooa herself +was quite undisturbed, and hunted about among the +bushes till she found the plant she knew of, then crushing +some of the leaves between two stones, she applied them +to the bite, and in a couple of hours was completely +cured.</p> + +<p>Besides these snakes the Baron learned from the +Indians that there is another even more dangerous, not +from its sting, which is not poisonous, but because it +winds itself round its victim, and strangles him to death. +Fortunately the Baron never met one, or he would probably +not have lived to tell his snake stories.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>50]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>WHAT ELEPHANTS CAN DO</i></h2> + + +<p>Long, long ago the earth was very different from what +it is now, and was covered with huge forests made up +of enormous trees, and in these forests there roamed +immense beasts, whose skeletons may sometimes be seen +in our museums.</p> + +<p>Of all these beasts there is only one remaining, and +that is the elephant. Now the elephant is so big and +shapeless that he makes one think he has been turned +out by a child who did not know how to finish his work +properly. He seems to need some feet badly and to want +pinching about his body. He would also be the better +for a more imposing tail; but such as he is, the elephant +is more useful and interesting than many creatures of ten +times his beauty. Large and clumsy though he may be, +he alone of all animals has ‘between his eyes a serpent +for a hand,’ and he turns his trunk to better account than +most men do their two hands.</p> + +<p>Ever since we first read about elephants in history +they were just the same as they are now. They have not +learnt, from associating with men, fresh habits which they +hand down from father to son; each elephant, quick though +he is to learn, has to be taught everything over again.</p> + +<p>Yet there is no beast who has lived in such unbroken +contact with man for so many thousands of years. We +do not know when he first began to be distinguished for +his qualities from the other wild animals, but as far back +as we can trace the sculptures which adorn the Indian +temples the elephant has a place. Several hundred years +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>51]</a></span> +before Christ, the Greek traveller Herodotus was passing +through Babylon and found a large number of elephants +employed in the daily life of the city, and from time to +time we catch glimpses of them in Eastern warfare, +though it was not till the third century <small>B.C.</small> that they +were introduced into Europe by Alexander the Great. +The Mediterranean nations were quick to see the immense +profit to which the elephant could be put, both in respect +to the great weights he could carry, and also for his +extraordinary teachableness. In India at the present day +he performs all kinds of varied duties, and many are the +stories told about his cleverness, for he is the only animal +that can be taught to push as well as pull.</p> + +<p>Most of us have seen elephants trained to perform in +a circus, and there is something rather sad in watching +their great clumsy bodies gambolling about in a way that +is unnatural as well as ungraceful. But there is no +question as to the amount that elephants can be taught, +particularly by kindness, or how skilfully they will revenge +themselves for any ill-treatment.</p> + +<p>In the early part of this century an elephant was sent +by a lady in India as a present to the Duke of Devonshire, +who had a large villa at Chiswick.</p> + +<p>This lucky captive had a roomy house of its own, +built expressly for it in the park, a field to walk about in, +and a keeper to look after it, and to do a little light +gardening besides. This man treated the elephant (a +female) with great kindness, and they soon became the +best of friends. The moment he called out she stopped, +and at his bidding would take a broom in her trunk and +sweep the dead leaves off the grass; after which she +would carefully carry after him a large pail of water for +him to re-fill his watering pot—for in those days the +garden-hose was not invented. When the tidying up was +all done, the elephant was given a carrot and some of the +water, but very often the keeper would amuse himself +with handing her a soda-water bottle tightly corked, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>52]</a></span> +telling her to empty it. This she did by placing the +bottle in an inclined position on the ground and holding +it at the proper angle with her foot, while she twisted the +cork out with her trunk. This accomplished, she would +empty all the water into her trunk without spilling a drop, +and then hand the bottle back to her keeper.</p> + +<p>In India small children are often given into the charge +of an elephant, and it is wonderful to see what care +the animals take of them. One elephant took such a +fancy to a small baby, that it used to stand over its +cradle, and drive away the flies that teased it while it +slept. When it grew restless the elephant would rock the +cradle, or gently lift it to the floor and let it crawl about +between its legs, till the child at last declined to take any +food unless her friend was by to see her eat it.</p> + +<p>Amazing tales have been told of what elephants can +be trained to do, but none is stranger than a story related +by a missionary named Caunter, about some wild +elephants in Ceylon. Some native soldiers who had been +set to guard a large storehouse containing rice, were +suddenly ordered off to put down a rising in a village a +little distance away. Hardly were their backs turned +when a wild elephant was seen advancing to the storehouse, +which was situated in a lonely place, and after +walking carefully round it, he returned whence he came. +In a short time he was noticed advancing for the second +time, accompanied by a whole herd of elephants, all +marching in an orderly and military manner.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="illo14" id="illo14"></a> +<img src="images/asb16.jpg" width="600" height="376" +alt="The elephant carries a heavy barrel" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE ELEPHANT HELPS THE GARDENER</p> + +<p>Now in order to secure the granary as much as possible, +the only entrance had been made in the roof, and had +to be reached by a ladder. This was soon found out by +the elephants, who examined the whole building attentively, +and being baffled in their designs, retired to consult +as to what they should do next. Finally one of the +largest among them began to attack one of the corners +with his tusks, and some of the others followed his +example. When the first relay was tired out, another set +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53"><!-- original location of Gardener illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>55]</a></span> +took its place, but all their efforts seemed useless; the +building was too strong for them. At length a third +elephant came forward and attacked the place at which +the others had laboured with such ill-success, and, by a +prodigious effort, he managed to loosen one brick. After +this it did not take long to dig a hole big enough to let +the whole herd pass through, and soon the two spectators, +hidden in a banyan-tree, saw little companies of three or +four enter the granary and take their fill of rice until +they all were satisfied. The last batch were still eating +busily, when a shrill noise from the sentinel they had +set on guard caused them to rush out. From afar they +could perceive the white dress of the soldiers who had +subdued the unruly villagers and were returning to their +post, and the elephants, trunks in air, took refuge in the +jungle, and only wagged their tails mockingly at the bullets +sent after them by the discomfited soldiers.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>56]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>THE DOG OF MONTARGIS</i></h2> + + +<p>For three days Aubrey de Montdidier had not been seen +by his friends and comrades in arms. On Sunday morning +he had attended mass in the Church of Our Lady, +but it was noticed that in the afternoon he was absent from +the great tournament which was held at Saint Katherine’s. +This astonished his friend the young Sieur de Narsac, +who had appointed to meet him there, that they might +watch together the encounter between a Burgundian +knight and a gentleman from Provence, both renowned +in tilting, who were to meet together for the first time +that day in Paris. It was unlike Aubrey to fail to be +present on such an occasion, and when for three successive +days he did not appear at his accustomed haunts, his +friends grew anxious, and began to question among themselves +whether some accident might not have befallen +him. Early on the morning of the fourth day De Narsac +was awakened by a continuous sound, as of something +scratching against his door. Starting up to listen, he +heard, in the intervals of the scratching, a low whine, as +of a dog in pain. Thoroughly aroused, he got up and +opened the door. Stretched before it, apparently too +weak to stand, was a great, gaunt greyhound, spent with +exhaustion and hunger. His ribs stood out like the bars +of a gridiron beneath his smooth coat; his tongue hung +down between his jaws, parched and stiff; his eyes were +bloodshot, and he trembled in every limb.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 378px;"> +<a name="illo15" id="illo15"></a> +<img src="images/asb17.jpg" width="378" height="490" +alt="De Narsac pets the emaciated dog" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">DE NARSAC RECOGNISES HIS FRIEND’S DOG</p> + +<p>On seeing De Narsac the poor creature struggled to +his feet, feebly wagged his tail, and thrust his nose into +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>57]</a></span> +the young man’s hands. Then only did De Narsac recognise +in the half-starved skeleton before him the +favourite dog and constant companion of his friend, +Aubrey de Montdidier. It was clear from the poor +animal’s emaciated appearance that it was in the last +stage of exhaustion. Summoning his servant, De Narsac +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>58]</a></span> +ordered food and water to be brought at once, and the +dog devoured the huge meal set before it. From his +starved appearance, and from the voracity with which he +devoured the food set before him, it was evident that +he had had nothing to eat for some days. No sooner +was his hunger appeased than he began to move uneasily +about the room. Uttering low howls of distress from +time to time, he approached the door; then, returning +to De Narsac’s side, he looked up in his face and gently +tugged at his mantle, as if to attract attention. There +was something at once so appealing and peculiar in the +dog’s behaviour that De Narsac’s curiosity was aroused, +and he became convinced that there was some connection +between the dog’s starved appearance and strange manner +and the unaccountable disappearance of his master. +Perhaps the dog might supply the clue to Aubrey’s place +of concealment. Watching the dog’s behaviour closely, +De Narsac became aware that the dumb beast was inviting +him to accompany him. Accordingly he yielded to +the dog’s apparent wish, and, leaving the house, followed +him out into the streets of Paris.</p> + +<p>Looking round from time to time to see that De +Narsac was coming after him, the greyhound pursued +its way through the narrow, tortuous streets of the +ancient city, over the Bridge, and out by the Porte St.-Martin, +into the open country outside the gates of the +town. Then, continuing on its track, the dog headed for +the Forest of Bondy, a place of evil fame in those far-off +days, as its solitudes were known to be infested by bands +of robbers. Stopping suddenly in a deep and densely +wooded glade of the wood, the dog uttered a succession +of low, angry growls; then, tugging at De Narsac’s +mantle, it led him to some freshly turned-up earth, beneath +a wide-spreading oak-tree. With a piteous whine the +dog stretched himself on the spot, and could not be induced +by De Narsac to follow him back to Paris, where he +straightway betook himself, as he at once suspected foul +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>59]</a></span> +play. A few hours later a party of men, guided to the +spot by the young Sieur de Narsac, removed the earth +and dead leaves and ferns from the hole into which they +had been hastily flung, and discovered the murdered body +of Aubrey de Montdidier. Hurriedly a litter was constructed +of boughs of trees, and, followed by the dog, the +body was borne into Paris, where it was soon afterwards +buried.</p> + +<p>From that hour the greyhound attached himself to the +Sieur de Narsac. It slept in his room, ate from his table, +and followed close at his heels when he went out of doors. +One morning, as the two were threading their way through +the crowded Rue St.-Martin, De Narsac was startled by +hearing a low, fierce growl from the greyhound. Looking +down he saw that the creature was shaking in every limb; +his smooth coat was bristling, his tail was straight and +stiff, and he was showing his teeth. In another moment +he had made a dart from De Narsac’s side, and had +sprung on a young gentleman named Macaire, in the +uniform of the king’s bodyguard, who, with several +comrades in arms, was sauntering along on the opposite +side of the street. There was something so sudden in +the attack that the Chevalier Macaire was almost thrown +on the ground. With their walking-canes he and his +friends beat off the dog, and on De Narsac coming up, +it was called away, and, still trembling and growling, +followed its master down the street.</p> + +<p>A few days later the same thing occurred. De Narsac +and the Chevalier Macaire chanced to encounter each +other walking in the royal park. In a moment the dog +had rushed at Macaire, and, with a fierce spring at his +throat, had tried to pull him to the ground. De Narsac +and some officers of the king’s bodyguard came to Macaire’s +assistance, and the dog was called off. The rumour of +this attack reached the ears of the king, and mixed +with the rumour were whisperings of a long-standing +quarrel between Macaire and Aubrey de Montdidier. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>60]</a></span> +Might not the dog’s strange and unaccountable hatred for +the young officer be a clue to the mysterious murder of +his late master? Determined to sift the matter to the +bottom, the king summoned De Narsac and the dog to +his presence at the Hôtel St.-Pol. Following close on his +master’s heels, the greyhound entered the audience-room, +where the king was seated, surrounded by his courtiers. +As De Narsac bowed low before his sovereign, a short, +fierce bark was heard from the dog, and, before he could +be held back, he had darted in among the startled courtiers, +and had sprung at the throat of the Chevalier Macaire, +who, with several other knights, formed a little group +behind the king’s chair.</p> + +<p>It was impossible longer to doubt that there was some +ground for the surmises that had rapidly grown to suspicion, +and that had received sudden confirmation from +the fresh evidence of the dog’s hatred.</p> + +<p>The king decided that there should be a trial by the +judgment of God, and that a combat should take place +between man, the accused, and dog, the accuser. The +place chosen for the combat was a waste, uninhabited +plot of ground, frequently selected as a duelling-ground +by the young gallants of Paris.</p> + +<p>In the presence of the king and his courtiers the +strange unnatural combat took place that afternoon. The +knight was armed with a short thick stick; the dog was +provided with an empty barrel, as a retreating ground +from the attacks of his adversary. At a given signal the +combatants entered the lists. The dog seemed quite to +understand the strange duel on which it was engaged. +Barking savagely, and darting round his opponent, he +made attempts to leap at his throat; now on this side, +now on that he sprang, jumping into the air, and then +bounding back out of reach of the stick. There was such +swiftness and determination about his movements, and +something so unnatural in the combat, that Macaire’s +nerve failed him. His blows beat the air, without hitting +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61"><!-- original location of Macaire illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>63]</a></span> +the dog; his breath came in quick short gasps; there +was a look of terror on his face, and for a moment, overcome +by the horror of the situation, his eye quailed and +sought the ground. At that instant the dog sprang at his +throat and pinned him to the earth. In his terror, he +called out and acknowledged his crime, and implored the +king’s mercy. But the judgment of God had decided. +The dog was called off before it had strangled its victim, +but the man was hurried away to the place of execution, +and atoned that evening for the murder of the faithful +greyhound’s master.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 390px;"> +<a name="illo16" id="illo16"></a> +<img src="images/asb18.jpg" width="390" height="600" +alt="The King watches as the dog attacks Macaire" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE DOG FLIES AT MACAIRE IN THE PRESENCE OF THE KING</p> + +<p>The dog has been known to posterity as the Dog of +Montargis, as in the Castle of Montargis there stood for +many centuries a sculptured stone mantelpiece, on which +the combat was carved.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>64]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>HOW A BEAVER BUILDS HIS HOUSE</i></h2> + +<p class="source">Bingley’s <i>Animal Biography</i>.</p> + + +<p>If we could look back and see England and Wales as they +were about a thousand years ago, we should most likely +think that the best houses and most prosperous villages +were the work not of the Saxon or British natives, but of +the little beavers, which were then to be found in some of +the rivers, though they have long ceased to exist there. +Those who want to see what beavers can do, must look +to America, and there, either in Canada or even as far +south as Louisiana, they will find the little creatures +as busy as ever and as clever at house-building as when +they taught our forefathers a lesson in the time of Athelstan +or Canute.</p> + +<p>A beaver is a small animal measuring about three feet, +and has fine glossy dark brown hair. Its tail, which is +its trowel, and call bell, and many other things besides, +is nearly a foot long, and has no hair at all, and is +divided into little scales, something like a fish. Beavers +cannot bear to live by themselves, and are never happy +unless they have two or three hundred friends close at +hand whom they can visit every day and all day, and +they are the best and most kindly neighbours in the world, +always ready to help each other either in building new +villages or in repairing old ones.</p> + +<p>Of course the first thing to be done when you wish to +erect a house or a village is to fix on a suitable site, and +the spot which every beaver of sense thinks most desirable +is either a large pond or, if no pond is to be had, a flat +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>65]</a></span> +low plain with a stream running through, out of which a +pond can be made.</p> + +<p>It must be a very, very long while since beavers first +found out that the way to make a pond out of a stream +was to build a dam across it so strong that the water +could not break through. To begin with, they have +to know which way the stream runs, and in this they +never make a mistake. Then they gather together stakes +about five feet long, and fix them in rows tight into the +ground on each side of the stream; and while the older and +more experienced beavers are doing this—for the safety of +the village depends on the strength of the foundation—the +younger and more active ones are fetching and heaping +up green branches of trees. These branches are plaited +in and out of the rows of stakes, which by this time stretch +right across the river, and form a dam often as much as a +hundred feet from end to end. When the best workmen +among them declare the foundation solid, the rest form a +large wall over the whole, of stones, clay, and sand, which +gradually tapers up from ten or twelve feet at the bottom, +where it has to resist the pressure of the stream, to two +or three at the top, so that the beavers can, if necessary, +pass each other in comfort. And when the dam is pronounced +finished, the overseer or head beaver goes carefully +over every part, to see that it is the proper shape and +exactly smooth and even, for beavers cannot bear bad +work, and would punish any of their tribe who were lazy +or careless.</p> + +<p>The dam being ready and the pond made, they can +now begin to think about their houses, and as all beavers +have a great dislike to damp floors and wet beds, they +have to raise their dwellings quite six or eight feet above +the level of the stream, so that no sudden swelling of the +river during the rainy season shall make them cold and +uncomfortable. Beavers are always quite clear in their +minds as to what they want, and how to get it, and they +like to keep things distinct. When they are in the water +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>66]</a></span> +they are perfectly happy, but when they are out of it they +like to be dry, and in order to keep their houses warm +and snug they wait till the water is low during the +summer, and then they can drive piles into the bed of the +stream with more safety and less trouble than if the +river is running hard. It generally takes two or three +months before the village is finished, and the bark and +shoots of young trees, which is their favourite food, +collected and stored up. But the little round huts, not +unlike beehives, are only intended for winter homes, as +no beaver would think of sleeping indoors during the +summer, or, indeed, of staying two days in the same place. +So every three or four years they spend the long days in +making their village of earth, stones, and sticks, plastered +together with some kind of mortar which they carry about +on their tails, to spread neatly over the inside of their +houses. All that a beaver does is beautifully finished as +well as substantial. The walls of his house are usually +about two feet thick, and sometimes he has as many as +three stories to his house, when he has a large family or +a number of friends to live with him. One thing is quite +certain: no beaver will ever set up housekeeping alone; +but sometimes he will be content with one companion, +and sometimes he will have as many as thirty. But +however full the hut may be, there is never any confusion; +each beaver has his fixed place on the floor, which +is covered with dried leaves and moss, and as they manage +to keep open a door right below the surface of the +stream, where their food is carefully stored up, there is +no fear that they will ever be starved out. And there +they lie all through the winter, and get very fat.</p> + +<p>Once a French gentleman who was travelling through +Louisiana, was very anxious to see the little beaver +colony at work, so he hid himself with some other men +close to a dam, and in the night they cut a channel about a +foot wide right through, and very hard labour they found it.</p> + +<p>The men had made no noise in breaking the dam, but +the rush of the water aroused one beaver who slept more +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>67]</a></span> +lightly than the rest, and he instantly left his hut and +swam to the dam to examine what was wrong. He then +struck four loud blows with his tail, and at the sound of +his call every beaver left his bed and came rushing to see +what was the matter. No sooner did they reach the dam +and see the large hole made in it, than they took counsel, +and then the one in whom they put the most trust gave +orders to the rest, and they all went to the bank to make +mortar. When they had collected as much as they could +carry, they formed a procession, two and two, each pair +loading each others’ tails, and so travelling they arrived +at the dam, where a relay of fresh labourers were ready to +load. The mortar was then placed in the hole and bound +tight by repeated blows from the beavers’ tails. So hard +did they work and so much sense did they show, that in +a short time all was as firm as ever. Then one of the +leading spirits clapped his tail twice, and in a moment +all were in bed and asleep again.</p> + +<p>Beavers are very hard-working, but they know how to +make themselves comfortable too, and if they are content +with bark and twigs at home, they appreciate nicer food if +they can get it. A gentleman once took a beaver with +him to New York, and it used to wander about the house +like a dog, feeding chiefly upon bread, with fish now and +then for a treat. Not being able to find any moss or +leaves for a bed, it used to seize upon all the soft bits of +stuff that came in its way, and carry them off to its +sleeping corner. One day a cat discovered its hiding +place, and thought it would be a nice comfortable place +for her kittens to sleep, and when the beaver came back +from his walk he found, like the three bears, that someone +was sleeping in his bed. He had never seen things +of that kind before, but they were small and he was big, +so he said nothing and lay down somewhere else. Only, +if ever their mother was away, he would go and hold one +of them to his breast to warm it, and keep it there till its +mother came back.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>68]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>THE WAR HORSE OF ALEXANDER</i></h2> + +<p class="source">Part of the story of Bucephalus is taken from Plutarch.</p> + + +<p>There are not so many stories about horses as there are +about dogs and cats, yet almost every great general has +had his favourite horse, who has gone with him through +many campaigns and borne him safe in many battle-fields. +At a town in Sicily called Agrigentum, they set such +store by their horses, that pyramids were raised over +their burial-place, and the Emperor Augustus built a +splendid monument over the grave of an old favourite.</p> + +<p>The most famous horse, perhaps, who ever lived, was +one belonging to Alexander the Great, and was called +Bucephalus. When the king was a boy, Bucephalus was +brought before Philip, King of Macedon, Alexander’s +father, by Philonicus the Thessalian, and offered for sale +for the large sum of thirteen talents. Beautiful though he +was, Philip wisely declined to buy him before knowing +what manner of horse he was, and ordered him to be led +into a neighbouring field, and a groom to mount him. +But it was in vain that the best and most experienced +riders approached the horse; he reared up on his hind +legs, and would suffer none to come near him. So Philonicus +the Thessalian was told to take his horse back +whence he came, for the king would have none of him.</p> + +<p>Now the boy Alexander stood by, and his heart went +out to the beautiful creature. And he cried out, ‘What a +good horse do we lose for lack of skill to mount him!’ +Philip the king heard these words, and his soul was vexed +to see the horse depart, but yet he knew not what else to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>69]</a></span> +do. Then he turned to Alexander and said: ‘Do you +think that you, young and untried, can ride this horse +better than those who have grown old in the stables?’ +To which Alexander made answer, ‘This horse I know I +could ride better than they.’ ‘And if you fail,’ asked +Philip, ‘what price will you pay for your good conceit of +yourself?’ And Alexander laughed out and said gaily, +‘I will pay the price of the horse.’ And thus it was +settled.</p> + +<p>So Alexander drew near to the horse, and took him by +the bridle, turning his face to the sun so that he might +not be frightened at the movements of his own shadow, +for the prince had noticed that it scared him greatly. +Then Alexander stroked his head and led him forwards, +feeling his temper all the while, and when the horse began +to get uneasy, the prince suddenly leapt on his back, and +gradually curbed him with the bridle. Suddenly, as +Bucephalus gave up trying to throw his rider, and only +pawed the ground impatient to be off, Alexander shook +the reins, and bidding him go, they flew like lightning +round the course. This was Alexander’s first conquest, +and as he jumped down from the horse, his father exclaimed, +‘Go, my son, and seek for a kingdom that is +worthy, for Macedon is too small for such as thee.’</p> + +<p>Henceforth Bucephalus made it clear that he served +Alexander and no one else. He would submit quietly to +having the gay trappings of a king’s steed fastened on his +head, and the royal saddle put on, but if any groom tried +to mount him, back would go his ears and up would go +his heels, and none dared come near him. For ten years +after Alexander succeeded his father on the throne of +Macedon (<small>B.C.</small> 336), Bucephalus bore him through all his +battles, and was, says Pliny, ‘of a passing good and +memorable service in the wars,’ and even when wounded, +as he once was at the taking of Thebes, would not suffer +his master to mount another horse. Together these two +swam rivers, crossed mountains, penetrated into the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>70]</a></span> +dominions of the Great King, and farther still into the +heart of Asia, beyond the Caspian and the river Oxus, +where never European army had gone before. Then +turning sharp south, he crossed the range of the Hindoo +Koosh, and entering the country of the Five Rivers, he +prepared to attack Porus, king of India. But age and the +wanderings of ten years had worn Bucephalus out. One +last victory near the Hydaspes or Jelum, and the old +horse sank down and died, full of years and honours (<small>B.C.</small> +326). Bitter were the lamentations of the king for the +friend of his childhood, but his grief did not show itself +only in weeping. The most splendid funeral Alexander +could devise was given to Bucephalus, and a gorgeous +tomb erected over his body. And more than that, Alexander +resolved that the memory of his old horse should +be kept green in these burning Indian deserts, thousands +of miles from the Thessalian plains where he was born, +so round his tomb the king built a city, and it was +called</p> + +<p class="center smcap">‘Bucephalia.’</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>71]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>STORIES ABOUT BEARS</i></h2> + + +<p>Baron de Wogan, a French gentleman, whose adventures +with snakes are also curious, was the hero of some encounters +with the grizzly bear of North America. First, +I would have you understand what sort of a creature +he had for an opponent. Imagine a monster measuring +when standing upright eight or nine feet, weighing 900 +lbs., of a most terrifying appearance, in agility and +strength surpassing all other animals, and cruel in proportion. +Like his cousin the brown bear, whom he +resembles in shape, he is a hermit and lives alone in the +immense trackless forests which covered the Rocky Mountains, +and indeed (at least in olden times) the greater part +of North America. During the day he sleeps in the +depths of some mountain cavern, and wakes up at dusk to +go out in search of prey. All the beasts of the forest live +in terror of him—even the white bear flies before him. +He would go down to the valleys and attack the immense +herds of buffaloes which grazed there, and which were +powerless against him, in spite of their numbers and +their great horns. They join themselves closely together +and form one compact rank, but the grizzly bear hurls +himself at them, breaks their ranks, scatters them, and +then pursuing them till he catches them up, flings himself +on the back of one, hugs it in his iron embrace, breaks +its skull with his teeth, and so goes slaying right and left +before he eats one. Before the Baron’s first, so to say, +hand-to-hand encounter with a grizzly, he had been long +enough in the country to know something of their ways, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>72]</a></span> +and how worse than useless a shot is unless in a fatal +spot.</p> + +<p>After the return to her tribe of Calooa, a young Indian +girl, who had been his one human companion in many +days of wandering, the Baron was left with only his mule +Cadi for friend and companion, and naturally felt very +lonely. He set his heart on getting to the top of the +Rocky Mountains, at the foot of which he then happened +to be. Their glittering summits had so irresistible an +attraction for him, that he did not stay to consider the +difficulties which soon beset him at every step. No +sooner did he conquer one than another arose, added to +which the cold of these high regions was intense, and it +constantly snowed. After three days he had to declare +himself not only beaten, but so worn out that he must +take a week’s rest if he did not want to fall ill. First it +was necessary to have some sort of a shelter, and by +great good luck he found just at hand a cavern in the +rock, which, without being exactly a palace, seemed as if +it would answer his purpose.</p> + +<p>Upon closer examination he found that it had more +drawbacks than he cared about. All round were scattered +gnawed bones of animals, and the prints of bear’s +claws on the ground left no doubt as to who the last inmate +had been. The Baron, however, preferred to risk an +invasion rather than seek another abode, and prepared +for probable inroads by making across the entrance to +the cave a barricade of branches of oak tied together +with flax, a quantity of which grew near. He then lit +a good fire inside the cave, but as the last tenant had +not considered a chimney necessary; the dense smoke soon +obliged him to beat a hasty retreat. Besides he had to +go out to get supplies for his larder, at present as bare as +Mother Hubbard’s. With his usual good luck the Baron +found, first, a large salmon flapping wildly in its effort to +get out of a pool, where the fallen river had left it. This +he killed, and next he shot a young deer about a mile +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>73]</a></span> +away and carried it to camp on his back. In order to +preserve these eatables he salted some of them with salt +that he had previously found in a lake near, and had +carefully preserved for future use. He then dug a hole in +a corner of the cave, putting a thick layer of dry hay at +the bottom, and buried his provisions Indian fashion, in +order to preserve them.</p> + +<p>As it was still only twelve o’clock, the Baron thought +he would spend the rest of the day in exploring the +neighbourhood; first he examined the cave, which he +found to be formed of big blocks of rock firmly joined +together; above the cave rose the cliff, and in front +of it grew a fir-tree, which served at the same time to +defend the entrance, and as a ladder to enable him to +mount the cliff. As he could not take Cadi with him, he +fastened him to the fir-tree by his halter and girth joined +together, so as to leave him plenty of room to graze. +Then he put some eatables in his game bag, and set off +on a tour of discovery. When he had walked about three +hours, and had reached a rocky point from which he +had a fine view of the surrounding country, he sat +down to rest under an oak-tree. He knew nothing more +till the cold awoke him—it was now six o’clock, and +he had slept three hours. He started with all the haste +he could to get back to his cave and Cadi before dark, +but so tired and footsore was he that he was obliged to +give in and camp where he was, for night was coming on +fast. It was bitterly cold and snow fell constantly, so he +lit a large fire, which at the same time warmed him, +and kept away the bears whom he heard wandering round +the camp most of the night. As soon as the sun was up +in the morning, he set off with all his speed to see what had +become of Cadi; but though fifteen miles is not much to +bears balked of their prey, it is much to a weary and footsore +man, and when he had hobbled to within half a mile +of the camp, he saw that it was too late: the bears, whom +he had driven away from his camp in the night with +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>74]</a></span> +fire-brands, had scented poor Cadi, and four of them were now +devouring him—father, mother, and two cubs. Imagine +his rage and grief at seeing his only friend and companion +devoured piecemeal before his very eyes!</p> + +<p>His first impulse was to fire, but he reflected in time +that they were four to one, and that, instead of avenging +Cadi, he would only share his fate. He decided to wait on +a high rock till the meal was ended. It lasted an hour, +and then he saw the whole family set off to climb the mountain, +from the top of which he had been watching them. +They seemed to be making straight for him, and as it would +be certain death to sit and wait for them, he slipped into a +cranny in the rock, hoping that he might not be perceived; +even if he was, he could only be attacked by one at a time. +He had not long to wait: soon all four bears passed in +single file, without smelling him or being aware of him; +for this he had to thank poor Cadi: their horrid snouts +and jaws being smeared with his blood prevented their +scenting fresh prey.</p> + +<div class="figcenter ipadbase" style="width: 370px;"> +<a name="illo17" id="illo17"></a> +<img src="images/asb19.jpg" width="370" height="600" +alt="The Baron kills the bear" /> +</div> + +<p>When he had seen them at a safe distance, he ventured +to go down to the cave he could no longer call his own. +Of Cadi, nothing remained but his head, still fastened to +the tree by his halter. The barricade was gone, too, and +from the cave came low but unmistakable growls. With +one bound the Baron was up the tree, and from the tree +on to the cliff. From there he threw stones down before +the entrance to the cave, to induce the present inmate to +come out, in order that he might take possession again. +The bear soon came out, and, perceiving him, made for the +fir-tree. By its slow and languid movements the Baron +saw that it was curiosity more than anger that prompted it, +and, moreover, it was evidently a very old bear, probably +a grandfather, whose children and grandchildren had been +to pay it a visit. Curiosity or not, the Baron had no wish +to make a closer acquaintance, and fired a shot at the brute +by way of a hint to that effect. This immediately turned +his curiosity into wrath. Seizing the fir-tree, which he was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75"><!-- original location of Bear illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>77]</a></span> +going to use as a ladder, he began to climb up. A second +shot hit him in the shoulder. He fell mortally wounded, but +even after a third shot, which took him in the flank, his +dying struggles lasted twenty minutes, during which he tore +at the roots of the fir-trees with his terrific claws. The +Baron did not care to waste any of his bullets, now getting +scarce, in putting out of his pain one of Cadi’s murderers. +When finally the bear was dead, the Baron came down to +take possession of his cave, and at the same time of the +bear’s skin. On penetrating into the cave, he found that +the rascal had paid him out in his own coin, and, in revenge +for the Baron taking his cave, had eaten his provisions. +The Baron was quits in the end, however, as the bear’s +carcase furnished him meat enough for several days. The +Baron cut off pounds of steak, which he salted and dried +over the fire. The useless remains he threw over the +nearest precipice, so that they should not attract wild +beasts, to keep him awake all night with their cries. +Then, having made a huge fire in front of the entrance, +which, moreover, he barricaded with branches, he threw +himself on his bed of dry leaves to sleep the sleep of +exhaustion.</p> + +<p>Some time passed before the Baron’s next encounter +with a bear. He was camping one night in a dense forest, +sleeping, as usual, with one eye and one ear open, and +his weapon at hand, all ready loaded. His rest was broken +by the usual nightly sounds of the forest, of leaves +crunched and branches broken, showing that many of the +inmates of the woods were astir; but he did not let these +usual sounds disturb him, till he heard in the distance +the hoarse and unmistakable cry of the bear; then he +thought it time to change the shot in his gun for something +more worthy of such a foe. This preparation made, he +set off at dawn on his day’s march, which up to midday +led him along the bank of a large river. He thought no +more of the blood-curdling howls of the night, till suddenly +he heard from a distance terror-stricken cries. He put +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>78]</a></span> +his ear to the ground, Indian fashion, to listen better, and +as the danger, whatever it was, seemed to be coming +nearer, he jumped into a thicket of wild cherry and willow +trees, and waited there in ambush, gun in hand. In a few +minutes, a band of Indians with their squaws appeared +on the opposite bank of the river, and straightway leaped +into the water, like so many frogs jumping into an undisturbed +swamp. At first he thought he was being attacked, +but soon saw it was the Indians who were being pursued, +and that they all, men and women, were swimming for +dear life; moreover, the women were laden with their +children, one, and sometimes two, being strapped to their +backs in a sort of cradle of birch bark. This additional +weight made them swim slower than the men, who soon +reached the opposite shore, and then took to their heels +helter-skelter, except three, who remained behind to encourage +the women.</p> + +<div class="figcenter ipadbase" style="width: 408px;"> +<a name="illo18" id="illo18"></a> +<img src="images/asb20.jpg" width="408" height="400" +alt="The Grizzly" /> +</div> + +<p>The Baron at first thought it was an attack of other +Indians, and that it would be prudent to beat a retreat, +when suddenly the same terrible cry that had kept him +awake in the latter part of the night resounded through +the forest, and at the same time there appeared on a +high bank on the other shore a huge mass of a dirty +grey colour, which hurled itself downhill, plunged into +the river, and began to swim across at a terrific speed. +It was a grizzly bear of tremendous size. So fast did it +swim, that in no time it had nearly caught up with the +last of the squaws, a young woman with twin babies at +her back, whose cries, often interrupted by the water +getting into their mouths, would have melted the heart of +a stone. The three Indians who had remained on the +bank did their utmost to stop the bear by shooting their +poisoned arrows at it; but the distance was too great, and +the huge animal came on so fast that in another minute +mother and children would be lost. The Baron could not +remain a spectator of so terrible a scene. He came out +of the thicket where he was hidden, and frightened the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>79]</a></span> +Indians almost as much as if he had been another bear. +Resting his gun on the trunk of a tree, he fired at the +distance of 125 yards, and hit the animal right on the +head. It dived several times, and the water all round +was dyed red with blood; but the wound was not mortal, +and it continued on its way, only more slowly. After +urging the Indian, who seemed to be the unhappy woman’s +husband, to go into the water to help her—for, through +terror and fatigue, she could no longer swim—the Baron +took deliberate aim again and fired. The second shot, +like the first, hit the bear on the head, but again without +killing it. It stopped the brute, however, long enough to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>80]</a></span> +let the poor woman get to shore, where she fainted, and +was carried away by the men to the forest, leaving the +Baron and the bear to fight out their duel alone. The +Baron had barely time to reload and climb to the top of +one of the trees, when the bear was already at the foot +of it. So near was he when he stood upright, that the +Baron could feel his horrid breath. Up to then the +Baron thought that all bears could climb like squirrels; +fortunately for him he was mistaken. Expecting to be +taken by storm, he fired straight in the creature’s face. +The two balls took a different course: one went through +the jaw and came out by the neck, the other went into +the chest. The bear uttered a terrific roar, stiffened +itself in a last effort to reach him, and fell heavily on its +back at the foot of the tree. The Baron might have thought +him dead had he not already seen such wonderful resurrections +on the part of bears; but the four shots, though at +first they dazed and troubled the beast, seemed afterwards +to act as spurs, and he rose furious and returned to the +charge. The Baron tried to use his revolver, but, finding +it impossible, he drew out his axe from his belt, and dealt +a violent blow at the bear’s head, which nearly split it in +two, and sent the blood splashing in all directions. The +bear again fell to the ground, this time to rise no more. +The Baron being now convinced that the grizzly bear is +no tree-climber, took his time to draw out his revolver, to +take aim and fire. The shot put out one of the bear’s +eyes, the axe had already taken out the other. This +finished him, but his death struggles lasted twenty minutes, +during which the tree was nearly uprooted. When +all was at an end the Baron came down; he cut off the +formidable claws, and broke off the teeth with an axe to +make a trophy in imitation of the Indians, and then proceeded +to skin him and cut him up. The Indians, who +had been watching the combat at a safe distance, now +came back, enthusiastic. They surrounded them, the +victor and the vanquished, and danced a war-dance, singing +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>81]</a></span> +impromptu words. The Baron, seated on the bear’s +carcase, joined in the chorus; but the Indians, not content +with that, insisted on his joining in the dance as well. +The rejoicing over, the Baron divided among the twenty +Indians the flesh of the bear—about 15 lb. or 20 lb. fell +to each. The skin he kept to himself, and the claws, of +which the Indians made him a warrior’s necklace, hanging +it round his neck like an order of knighthood.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> +The young reader must no longer expect such adventures as the +Baron de Wogan achieved.</p> +</div> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>82]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>STORIES ABOUT ANTS</i></h2> + + +<p>If any one will watch an ant-hill on a fine day in April, +he will see the little inhabitants begin to rouse themselves +from their winter’s sleep, which lasts from the +month of October, with the red ant at all events. Groups +of them come out to the top of the ant-hill to warm and +thaw themselves in the rays of the sun. Some, more +active and robust, run in and out, waking up the lazy, +hurrying the laggards, and rousing all the little community +to begin their summer habits. But this activity does +not last long; they are as yet only half awake, and still +numb and torpid from the winter’s cold, and the little +throng increases or diminishes as the sun shines or disappears +behind a cloud. As two, half-past two, and three +o’clock arrive, they have nearly all disappeared inside the +ant-heap, leaving only a few warriors, of a larger make +and tried courage, to watch over the well-being of the little +republic and to close up all openings with tiny chips of +wood, dry leaves, and shreds of moss, so as to hide the entrances +from human eye. Two or three sentinels wander +round to see that all is secure. And then they enter, and +all is still.</p> + +<p>If we come back again in about a week, we shall +find the ants in the middle of their regular migration +to their summer quarters, not far from their winter +ones. This takes place, with the red ant, at all events, +with great regularity every April and October. The red +ant is beyond doubt a slave-owner; the slaves may be +easily recognised from their masters by being of a smaller +make and light yellow colour. As soon as the masters +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>83]</a></span> +have fixed the day of their ‘flitting,’ they begin probably +to ensure the consent of the slaves by violently seizing +them, and rolling them into a ball, and then grasping them +firmly they set off towards the summer quarters at full +gallop, if an ant can be said to gallop. The master ant +is in a great hurry to get rid of his living burden; he goes +straight ahead in spite of all obstacles, avoiding all interruptions +and delays, and as soon as he arrives at +the summer ant-heap, plunges in, deposits the slave all +breathless and terrified from his forced journey, and sets +off back for another.</p> + +<p>Darwin, who closely studied the migrations of the +ant, says that they differ in their means of transport: +one sort is carried by the slaves; the other, our friend the +red ant, scientifically called ‘formica sanguinea,’ carries +his property carefully in his mouth. It seems strange +to us that the master should carry the slave, but no +stranger than it would appear to the ants if they should +begin to study our habits, that some of us should sit in +a carriage and be driven by the coachman. The slave, +once installed in his summer quarters, seldom appears +again before the autumn exodus, unless in the event of +some disturbance in the camp, or its invasion by some ants +of a hostile tribe, when the slaves take part in the defence +and especially watch over the young ones. The slaves +seem to be carpenters and miners, and warriors when +necessary. They build the dwelling, repair it, of which +it has constant need, and defend it in case of attack with +dauntless courage. But their principal duties seem to be +to take charge of the development of the young, and to +feed the masters—no small task, as there seem to be ten +masters to one slave, and they seem incapable of eating +unless fed. Experiments have been tried of removing +the slaves from them, and though sugar and every sort of +tempting food is put down beside them, they will starve +rather than help themselves. In fact, one wonders what +the masters can be left for but to drive the slaves, which +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>84]</a></span> +they do with great ardour. A French gentleman who +spent years studying the habits of the ants, tried one +day, by way of experiment, to take a slave away from its +master; he had great difficulty in removing it from its +bearer, who struggled furiously and clung to its burden. +When at last the slave was set free, instead of profiting by +its liberty, it turned round and round in a circle as if dazed, +then hid itself under a dead leaf. A master ant presently +came along, an animated conversation took place, and the +slave ant was seized upon and borne off again to bondage. +The same gentleman another day observed a slave ant venture +out to the entrance to the ant-hill to enjoy the warmth +of the sun. A great master ant spied it and set to with +blows of its horns (antennæ they are called) to persuade it +that that was not its place. Finding the slave persisted +in not understanding, the master resorted to force, and +seizing it by its head, without taking the trouble to roll it +up, as they are generally carried, he hurled it into the +ant-hill, where no doubt it received the punishment it +deserved.</p> + +<p>If we came back to the ant-heap a week after our last +visit, we should find the migration finished if the weather +has been fine; but ants, especially after their first awaking, +are extremely sensitive to wind and rain, and only +work well in fine weather. They are equally affected by +weather before a storm: even though the sun may be +shining, they will remain in the ant-heap with closed +doors. If it is shut before midday, the storm will burst +before evening; if it is shut before eight or nine in the +morning, the rain will fall before noon.</p> + +<p>All this time we have been speaking only of the red +ant; but there are any number of different kinds in Europe, +not to mention the enormous ants of the tropics, who +march in such armies that the people fly before them, +deserting their villages. Different species differ totally +in their habits and ways of building and living. The +greater number of species live apart, and not in a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>85]</a></span> +community with an elaborately constructed house like the +red ant. The little black ant is the commonest in this +country, and the busiest and most active. She is the +first to awake, in March, sometimes in February, and the +last to sleep, sometimes not till November. Their instincts +and habits of activity, however, are apt to deceive them, +and they get up too soon. The French gentleman already +mentioned observed an instance of the kind. On February +24, after an unusually mild winter, the sun shone as +if it were already summer, and it was difficult to persuade +oneself that it was not, except that there were no leaves +on the trees, no birds singing in the branches, and no +insects humming in the air. First our friend went to +examine the red-ant heap, which was closed as usual, all +the inhabitants being still plunged in their winter sleep. +The black ants, on the contrary, were all awake and +lively, and seemed persuaded that the fine weather had +come to stay. Their instincts deceived them, for that night +it froze; rain, snow, and fog succeeded each other in turn, +and when next he visited the ant-heap he found them +lying in masses, stiff and dead, before the entrance to +their dwelling.</p> + +<p>Between the red and black ants there is great enmity, +and terrible combats take place. When they fight they +grasp each other like men wrestling, and each tries to +throw the other down, and break his back. The conquered +remain on the battlefield, nearly broken in two, +and feebly waving their paws, till they slowly expire in +agonies. The conqueror, on the other hand, carries away +his dead to burial and his wounded to the camp, and then, +entering triumphantly himself, closes the doors after him. +The gentleman already quoted witnessed the funeral of +an ant. He had passed the ant-heap about a quarter +of an hour, and left, as he thought, all the inhabitants +behind him, when he saw what appeared to be an enormous +red ant making for home. On stooping to look +more closely, he saw that it was one ant carrying another. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>86]</a></span> +He succeeded in separating them from each other, and +then saw that the burden was neither a slave nor a +prisoner, but a dead comrade being carried back to the +ant-heap for a decent burial; for if ants fall into the hands +of the enemy, they are subjected if alive to the most cruel +tortures and if dead to mutilations. Usually, when an +ant is relieved of anything it is carrying—whether it be a +slave, a wounded ant, or some eatable—it will set off at +full speed and let the burden be picked up by the next +passing ant; but this one made no attempt to run away, +and only turned round and round in a perplexed and irresolute +way, till its dead friend was put down beside it, +then it seized its precious burden and set off homewards +with it. Travellers even tell that in Algeria there are ant +cemeteries near the ant-heaps.</p> + +<p>No lover of animals doubts that they have a language +of their own, which we are too stupid or deaf to understand. +Anyone who studies the ways of the ants sees, +beyond a doubt, that they too have a way of communicating +with each other. For instance, an ant was one day +seen at some distance from the ant-hill, and evidently in +no hurry to go back to it. In the middle of the path she +perceived a large dead snail. She began by going round +and round it, then climbed on its back, and walked all +over it. Having satisfied herself that it was a choice +morsel, but too large for her to carry home alone, she +set off at once to seek help. On the way she met one of +her companions; she ran at once to her; they rubbed +their antennæ together, and evidently an animated conversation +took place, for the second ant set off immediately +in the direction of the snail. The first one continued on +her way home, communicating with every ant she met in +the same way; by the time she disappeared inside the +ant-heap, an endless file of busy little ants were on their +way to take their share of the spoil. In ten minutes the +snail was completely covered by the little throng, and by +the evening every trace of it had vanished.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>87]</a></span> +Recent observations have proved that the time-honoured +idea of the ant storing up provision for the winter +is a delusion, a delusion which La Fontaine’s famous +fable, ‘Le Fourmis et la Cigale,’ has done much to +spread and confirm. It is now known, as we have already +seen, that ants sleep all winter, and that the food +which we constantly see them laden with is for immediate +consumption in the camp. They eat all kinds of insects—hornets +and cockchafers are favourite dishes—but the +choicest morsel is a fine fat green caterpillar, caught +alive. They seize it, some by its head, some by its tail; +it struggles, it writhes, and sometimes succeeds in freeing +itself from its enemies; but they do not consider themselves +beaten, and attack it again. Little by little it +becomes stupefied from the discharges of formic acid +the ants throw out from their bodies, and presently it +succumbs to their renewed forces. Finally, though the +struggle may last an hour or more, it is borne to the +ant-heap and disappears, to be devoured by the inmates. +Perhaps these short ‘Stories about Ants’ may induce some +of you to follow the advice of the Preacher, and ‘go +to the ant’ yourselves for more.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>88]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>THE TAMING OF AN OTTER</i></h2> + +<p class="source">From Bingley’s <i>British Quadrupeds</i>.</p> + + +<p>Otters used once to be very common in England in the +neighbourhood of rivers, and even in some instances of +the sea, but in many places where they once lived in great +numbers they have now ceased to exist. They destroy +large quantities of fish, though they are so dainty that +they only care for the upper parts of the body. If the +rivers are frozen and no fish are to be had, they will eat +poultry, or even lambs; and if these are not to be found, +they can get on quite well for a long time on the bark of +trees or on young branches.</p> + +<p>Fierce though otters are when brought to bay, they +can easily be tamed if they are caught young enough. +More than a hundred years ago the monks of Autun, in +France, found a baby otter only a few weeks old, and took +it back to the convent, and fed it upon milk for nearly two +months, when it was promoted to soup and fish and +vegetables, the food of the good monks. It was not very +sociable with strange animals, but it made great friends +with a dog and cat who had known it from a baby, and +they would play together half the day. At night it had a +bed in one of the rooms, but in the day it always preferred +a heap of straw when it was tired of running about. +Curious to say, this otter was not at all fond of the water, +and it was very seldom that it would go near a basin of +water that was always carefully left near its bed. When +it did, it was only to wash its face and front paws, after +which it would go for a run in the court-yard, or curl +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>89]</a></span> +itself to sleep in the sun. Indeed it seemed to have such +an objection to water of all kinds, that the monks wondered +whether it knew how to swim. So one day, when +they were not so busy as usual, some of the brothers took +it off to a good-sized pond, and waited to see what it would +do. The otter smelt about cautiously for a little, and then, +recognising that here was something it had seen before, +ducked its head and wetted its feet as it did in the mornings. +This did not satisfy the monks, who threw it right +in, upon which it instantly swam to the other shore, and +came round again to its friends.</p> + +<p>All tame otters are not, however, as forgetful of the +habits and manners of their race as this one was, and in +some parts they have even been taught to fish for their +masters instead of themselves. Careful directions are +given for their proper teaching, and a great deal of patience +is needful, because if an animal is once frightened or +made angry, there is not much hope of training it afterwards. +To begin with, it must be fed while it is very young on +milk or soup, and when it gets older, on bread and the +heads of fishes, and it must get its food from one person +only, to whom it will soon get accustomed and attached. +The next step is to have a sort of leather bag made, stuffed +with wool and shaped like a fish, large enough for the +animal to take in its mouth. Finally, he must wear a collar +formed on the principle of a slip noose, which can tighten +when a long string that is fastened to it, is pulled. This +is, of course, to teach the otter to drop the fish after he +has caught it.</p> + +<p>The master then leads the otter slowly behind him, +till by this means he has learned how to follow, and then +he has to be made to understand the meanings of certain +words and tones. So the man says to him, ‘Come here,’ +and pulls the cord; and after this has been repeated +several times, the otter gradually begins to connect the +words with the action. Then the string is dropped, and +the otter trots up obediently without it. After that, the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>90]</a></span> +sham fish is placed on the ground, and the collar, which +seems rather like a horse’s bit, is pulled so as to force the +mouth open, while the master exclaims ‘Take it!’ and +when the otter is quite perfect in this (which most likely +will not happen for a long time) the collar is loosened, +and he is told to ‘drop it.’</p> + +<p>Last of all, he is led down to a river with clear shallow +water, where a small dead fish is thrown in. This he +catches at once, and then the cord which has been +fastened to his neck is gently pulled, and he gives up his +prize to his master. Then live fish are put in instead of +the dead one, and when they are killed, the otter is given +the heads as a reward.</p> + +<p>Of course some masters have a special talent for +teaching these things, and some otters are specially apt +pupils. This must have been the case with the otter +belonging to a Mr. Campbell who lived near Inverness. +It would sometimes catch eight or ten salmon in a day, +and never attempted to eat them; while a man in Sweden, +called Nilsson, and his family, lived entirely on the fish +that was caught for them by their otter. When he is in +his wild state, the otter lives in holes in the rocks, or among +the roots of trees, though occasionally he has been known +to burrow under ground, having his door in the water, and +only a very tiny window opening landwards, so that he +may not die of suffocation.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>91]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>THE STORY OF ANDROCLES AND THE LION</i></h2> + + +<p>Many hundred years ago, there lived in the north of Africa +a poor Roman slave called Androcles. His master held +great power and authority in the country, but he was a +hard, cruel man, and his slaves led a very unhappy life. +They had little to eat, had to work hard, and were often +punished and tortured if they failed to satisfy their master’s +caprices. For long Androcles had borne with the hardships +of his life, but at last he could bear it no longer, +and he made up his mind to run away. He knew that it +was a great risk, for he had no friends in that foreign +country with whom he could seek safety and protection; +and he was aware that if he was overtaken and caught +he would be put to a cruel death. But even death, he +thought, would not be so hard as the life he now led, and +it was possible that he might escape to the sea-coast, and +somehow some day get back to Rome and find a kinder +master.</p> + +<p>So he waited till the old moon had waned to a tiny +gold thread in the skies, and then, one dark night, he +slipped out of his master’s house, and, creeping through +the deserted forum and along the silent town, he passed +out of the city into the vineyards and corn-fields lying +outside the walls. In the cool night air he walked rapidly. +From time to time he was startled by the sudden barking +of a dog, or the sound of voices coming from some late +revellers in the villas which stood beside the road along +which he hurried. But as he got further into the country +these sounds ceased, and there was silence and darkness +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>92]</a></span> +all round him. When the sun rose he had already +gone many miles away from the town in which he had +been so miserable. But now a new terror oppressed him—the +terror of great loneliness. He had got into a wild, +barren country, where there was no sign of human habitation. +A thick growth of low trees and thorny mimosa +bushes spread out before him, and as he tried to thread +his way through them he was severely scratched, and his +scant garments torn by the long thorns. Besides the +sun was very hot, and the trees were not high enough to +afford him any shade. He was worn out with hunger +and fatigue, and he longed to lie down and rest. But to +lie down in that fierce sun would have meant death, and +he struggled on, hoping to find some wild berries to eat, +and some water to quench his thirst. But when he came +out of the scrub-wood, he found he was as badly off as +before. A long, low line of rocky cliffs rose before him, +but there were no houses, and he saw no hope of finding +food. He was so tired that he could not wander further, +and seeing a cave which looked cool and dark in the side +of the cliffs, he crept into it, and, stretching his tired +limbs on the sandy floor, fell fast asleep.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he was awakened by a noise that made his +blood run cold. The roar of a wild beast sounded in his +ears, and as he started trembling and in terror to his feet, +he beheld a huge, tawny lion, with great glistening white +teeth, standing in the entrance of the cave. It was impossible +to fly, for the lion barred the way. Immovable +with fear, Androcles stood rooted to the spot, waiting for +the lion to spring on him and tear him limb from limb.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 385px;"> +<a name="illo19" id="illo19"></a> +<img src="images/asb21.jpg" width="385" height="600" +alt="Androcles cowers in fear as the lion enters the cave" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">ANDROCLES IN THE LION’S CAVE</p> + +<p>But the lion did not move. Making a low moan as if +in great pain, it stood licking its huge paw, from which +Androcles now saw that blood was flowing freely. Seeing +the poor animal in such pain, and noticing how gentle +it seemed, Androcles forgot his own terror, and slowly +approached the lion, who held up its paw as if asking +the man to help it. Then Androcles saw that a monster +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93"><!-- original location of Cave illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>95]</a></span> +thorn had entered the paw, making a deep cut, and causing +great pain and swelling. Swiftly but firmly he drew the +thorn out, and pressed the swelling to try to stop the +flowing of the blood. Relieved of the pain, the lion +quietly lay down at Androcles’ feet, slowly moving his +great bushy tail from side to side as a dog does when it +feels happy and comfortable.</p> + +<p>From that moment Androcles and the lion became +devoted friends. After lying for a little while at his feet, +licking the poor wounded paw, the lion got up and limped +out of the cave. A few minutes later it returned with a +little dead rabbit in its mouth, which it put down on the +floor of the cave beside Androcles. The poor man, who +was starving with hunger, cooked the rabbit somehow, +and ate it. In the evening, led by the lion, he found a +place where there was a spring, at which he quenched his +dreadful thirst.</p> + +<p>And so for three years Androcles and the lion lived +together in the cave; wandering about the woods together +by day, sleeping together at night. For in summer the +cave was cooler than the woods, and in winter it was +warmer.</p> + +<p>At last the longing in Androcles’ heart to live once +more with his fellow-men became so great that he felt he +could remain in the woods no longer, but that he must +return to a town, and take his chance of being caught and +killed as a runaway slave. And so one morning he left +the cave, and wandered away in the direction where he +thought the sea and the large towns lay. But in a few +days he was captured by a band of soldiers who were +patrolling the country in search of fugitive slaves, and he +was put in chains and sent as a prisoner to Rome.</p> + +<p>Here he was cast into prison and tried for the crime +of having run away from his master. He was condemned +as a punishment to be torn to pieces by wild beasts on +the first public holiday, in the great circus at Rome.</p> + +<p>When the day arrived Androcles was brought out of +his prison, dressed in a simple, short tunic, and with a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>96]</a></span> +scarf round his right arm. He was given a lance with +which to defend himself—a forlorn hope, as he knew that +he had to fight with a powerful lion which had been kept +without food for some days to make it more savage and +bloodthirsty. As he stepped into the arena of the huge +circus, above the sound of the voices of thousands on +thousands of spectators he could hear the savage roar of +the wild beasts from their cages below the floor on which +he stood.</p> + +<p>Of a sudden the silence of expectation fell on the spectators, +for a signal had been given, and the cage containing +the lion with which Androcles had to fight had +been shot up into the arena from the floor below. A +moment later, with a fierce spring and a savage roar, the +great animal had sprung out of its cage into the arena, +and with a bound had rushed at the spot where Androcles +stood trembling. But suddenly, as he saw Androcles, the +lion stood still, wondering. Then quickly but quietly it +approached him, and gently moved its tail and licked +the man’s hands, and fawned upon him like a great dog. +And Androcles patted the lion’s head, and gave a sob of +recognition, for he knew that it was his own lion, with +whom he had lived and lodged all those months and years.</p> + +<p>And, seeing this strange and wonderful meeting between +the man and the wild beast, all the people marvelled, and +the emperor, from his high seat above the arena, sent for +Androcles, and bade him tell his story and explain this +mystery. And the emperor was so delighted with the +story that he said Androcles was to be released and to be +made a free man from that hour. And he rewarded him +with money, and ordered that the lion was to belong to +him, and to accompany him wherever he went.</p> + +<p>And when the people in Rome met Androcles walking, +followed by his faithful lion, they used to point at them +and say, ‘That is the lion, the guest of the man, and that +is the man, the doctor of the lion.’<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> +Apparently this nice lion did not bite anybody, when he took his +walks abroad. Or, possibly, he was muzzled.—<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>97]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 393px;"> +<a name="illo20" id="illo20"></a> +<img src="images/asb02.jpg" width="393" height="600" +alt="Androcles with his arms around the lion" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">ANDROCLES IN THE ARENA</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>99]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>MONSIEUR DUMAS AND HIS BEASTS</i></h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>Most people have heard of Alexandre Dumas, the great +French novelist who wrote ‘The Three Musketeers’ +and many other delightful historical romances. Besides +being a great novelist, M. Dumas was a most kind and +generous man—kind both to human beings and to animals. +He had a great many pets, of which he gives us the history +in one of his books. Here are some of the stories +about them in his own words.</p> + +<p>I was living, he says, at Monte Cristo (this was the +name of his villa at St.-Germains); I lived there alone, +except for the visitors I received. I love solitude, for +solitude is necessary to anyone who works much. However, +I do not like complete loneliness; what I love is +that of the Garden of Eden, a solitude peopled with animals. +Therefore, in my wilderness at Monte Cristo, without +being quite like Adam in every way, I had a kind of small +earthly paradise.</p> + +<p>This is the list of my animals. I had a number of +dogs, of which the chief was Pritchard. I had a vulture +named Diogenes; three monkeys, one of which bore the +name of a celebrated translator, another that of a famous +novelist, and the third, which was a female, that of a +charming actress. We will call the writer Potich, the +novelist the Last of the Laidmanoirs, and the lady Mademoiselle +Desgarcins. I had a great blue and yellow macaw +called Buvat, a green and yellow parroquet called Papa +Everard, a cat called Mysouff, a golden pheasant called +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>100]</a></span> +Lucullus, and finally, a cock called Cæsar. Let us give +honour where honour is due, and begin with the history +of Pritchard.</p> + +<p>I had an acquaintance named M. Lerat, who having +heard me say I had no dog to take out shooting, said, +‘Ah! how glad I am to be able to give you something +you will really like! A friend of mine who lives in Scotland +has sent me a pointer of the very best breed. I will +give him to you. Bring Pritchard,’ he added to his two +little girls.</p> + +<p>How could I refuse a present offered so cordially? +Pritchard was brought in.</p> + +<p>He was an odd-looking dog to be called a pointer! +He was long-haired, grey and white, with ears nearly +erect, mustard-coloured eyes, and a beautifully feathered +tail. Except for the tail, he could scarcely be called a +handsome dog.</p> + +<p>M. Lerat seemed even more delighted to give the +present than I was to receive it, which showed what a +good heart he had.</p> + +<p>‘The children call the dog Pritchard,’ he said; ‘but if +you don’t like the name, call him what you please.’</p> + +<p>I had no objection to the name; my opinion was that +if anyone had cause to complain, it was the dog himself. +Pritchard, therefore, continued to be called Pritchard. +He was at this time about nine or ten months old, and +ought to begin his education, so I sent him to a gamekeeper +named Vatrin to learn his duties. But, two hours +after I had sent Pritchard to Vatrin, he was back again at +my house. He was not made welcome; on the contrary, +he received a good beating from Michel, who was my +gardener, porter, butler, and confidential servant all in +one, and who took Pritchard back to Vatrin. Vatrin was +astonished; Pritchard had been shut up with the other +dogs in the kennel, and he must have jumped over the +enclosure, which was a high one. Early the next morning, +when the housemaid had opened my front door, there +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>101]</a></span> +was Pritchard sitting outside. Michel again beat the dog, +and again took him back to Vatrin, who this time put a +collar round his neck and chained him up. Michel came +back and informed me of this severe but necessary +measure. Vatrin sent a message to say that I should not +see Pritchard again until his education was finished. +The next day, while I was writing in a little summer-house +in my garden, I heard a furious barking. It was +Pritchard fighting with a great Pyrenean sheepdog which +another of my friends had just given me. This dog was +named Mouton, because of his white woolly hair like a +sheep’s, not on account of his disposition, which was remarkably +savage. Pritchard was rescued by Michel from +Mouton’s enormous jaws, once more beaten, and for the +third time taken back to Vatrin. Pritchard, it appears, +had eaten his collar, though how he managed it Vatrin +never knew. He was now shut up in a shed, and unless +he ate the walls or the door, he could not possibly get +out. He tried both, and finding the door the more +digestible, he ate the door; and the next day at dinner-time, +Pritchard walked into the dining-room wagging his +plumy tail, his yellow eyes shining with satisfaction. +This time Pritchard was neither beaten nor taken back; +we waited till Vatrin should come to hold a council of +war as to what was to be done with him. The next day +Vatrin appeared.</p> + +<p>‘Did you <em>ever</em> see such a rascal?’ he began. Vatrin +was so excited that he had forgotten to say ‘Good morning’ +or ‘How do you do?’</p> + +<p>‘I tell you,’ said he, ‘that rascal Pritchard puts me in +such a rage that I have crunched the stem of my pipe +three times between my teeth and broken it, and my wife +has had to tie it up with string. He’ll ruin me in pipes, +that brute—that vagabond!’</p> + +<p>‘Pritchard, do you hear what is said about you?’ +said I.</p> + +<p>Pritchard heard, but perhaps did not think it mattered +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>102]</a></span> +much about Vatrin’s pipes, for he only looked at me +affectionately and beat upon the ground with his tail.</p> + +<p>‘I don’t know what to do with him,’ said Vatrin. ‘If +I keep him he’ll eat holes in the house, I suppose; yet I +don’t like to give him up—he’s only a dog. It’s humiliating +for a man, don’t you know?’</p> + +<p>‘I’ll tell you what, Vatrin,’ said I. ‘We will take him +down to Vésinet, and go for a walk through your preserves, +and then we shall see whether it is worth while +to take any more trouble with this vagabond, as you call +him.’</p> + +<p>‘I call him by his name. It oughtn’t to be Pritchard; +it should be Bluebeard, it should be Blunderbore, it +should be Judas Iscariot!’</p> + +<p>Vatrin enumerated all the greatest villains he could +think of at the moment.</p> + +<p>I called Michel.</p> + +<p>‘Michel, give me my shooting shoes and gaiters; we +will go to Vésinet to see what Pritchard can do.’</p> + +<p>‘You will see, sir,’ said Michel, ‘that you will be better +pleased than you think.’ For Michel always had a liking +for Pritchard.</p> + +<p>We went down a steep hill to Vésinet, Michel following +with Pritchard on a leash. At the steepest place I turned +round. ‘Look there upon the bridge in front of us, +Michel,’ I said, ‘there is a dog very like Pritchard.’ +Michel looked behind him. There was nothing but the +leather straps in his hand; Pritchard had cut it through +with his teeth, and was now standing on the bridge +amusing himself by looking at the water through the +railing.</p> + +<p>‘He <em>is</em> a vagabond!’ said Vatrin. ‘Look! where is +he off to now?’</p> + +<p>‘He has gone,’ said I, ‘to see what my neighbour +Corrège has got for luncheon.’ Sure enough, the next +moment Pritchard was seen coming out of M. Corrège’s +back door, pursued by a maid servant with a broom. He +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>103]</a></span> +had a veal cutlet in his mouth, which he had just taken +out of the frying-pan.</p> + +<p>‘Monsieur Dumas!’ cried the maid, ‘Monsieur +Dumas! stop your dog!’</p> + +<p>We tried; but Pritchard passed between Michel and +me like a flash of lightning.</p> + +<p>‘It seems,’ said Michel, ‘that he likes his veal underdone.’</p> + +<p>‘My good woman,’ I said to the cook, who was still +pursuing Pritchard, ‘I fear that you are losing time, and +that you will never see your cutlet again.’</p> + +<p>‘Well, then, let me tell you, sir, that you have no right +to keep and feed a thief like that.’</p> + +<p>‘It is you, my good woman, who are feeding him to-day, +not I.’</p> + +<p>‘Me!’ said the cook, ‘it’s—it’s M. Corrège. And +what will M. Corrège say, I should like to know?’</p> + +<p>‘He will say, like Michel, that it seems Pritchard likes +his veal underdone.’</p> + +<p>‘Well, but he’ll not be pleased—he will think it’s my +fault.’</p> + +<p>‘Never mind, I will invite your master to luncheon +with me.’</p> + +<p>‘All the same, if your dog goes on like that, he will +come to a bad end. That is all I have to say—he will +come to a bad end.’ And she stretched out her broom +in an attitude of malediction towards the spot where +Pritchard had disappeared.</p> + +<p>We three stood looking at one another. ‘Well,’ said I, +‘we have lost Pritchard.’</p> + +<p>‘We’ll soon find him,’ said Michel.</p> + +<p>We therefore set off to find Pritchard, whistling and +calling to him, as we walked on towards Vatrin’s shooting +ground. This search lasted for a good half-hour, Pritchard +not taking the slightest notice of our appeals. At last +Michel stopped.</p> + +<p>‘Sir,’ he said, ‘look there! Just come and look.’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>104]</a></span> +‘Well, what?’ said I, going to him.</p> + +<p>‘Look!’ said Michel, pointing. I followed the direction +of Michel’s finger, and saw Pritchard in a perfectly +immovable attitude, as rigid as if carved in stone.</p> + +<p>‘Vatrin,’ said I, ‘come here.’ Vatrin came. I showed +him Pritchard.</p> + +<p>‘I think he is making a point,’ said Vatrin. Michel +thought so too.</p> + +<p>‘But what is he pointing at?’ I asked. We cautiously +came nearer to Pritchard, who never stirred.</p> + +<p>‘He certainly is pointing,’ said Vatrin. Then making +a sign to me—‘Look there!’ he said. ‘Do you see anything?’</p> + +<p>‘Nothing.’</p> + +<p>‘What! you don’t see a rabbit sitting? If I only had +my stick, I’d knock it on the head, and it would make a +nice stew for your dinner.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh!’ said Michel, ‘if that’s all, I’ll cut you a +stick.’</p> + +<p>‘Well, but Pritchard might leave off pointing.’</p> + +<p>‘No fear of him—I’ll answer for him—unless, indeed, +the rabbit goes away.’</p> + +<p>Vatrin proceeded to cut a stick. Pritchard never +moved, only from time to time he turned his yellow eyes +upon us, which shone like a topaz.</p> + +<p>‘Have patience,’ said Michel. ‘Can’t you see that +M. Vatrin is cutting a stick?’ And Pritchard seemed to +understand as he turned his eye on Vatrin.</p> + +<p>‘You have still time to take off the branches,’ said +Michel.</p> + +<p>When the branches were taken off and the stick was +quite finished, Vatrin approached cautiously, took a good +aim, and struck with all his might into the middle of +the tuft of grass where the rabbit was sitting. He had +killed it!</p> + +<p>Pritchard darted in upon the rabbit, but Vatrin took it +from him, and Michel slipped it into the lining of his coat. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>105]</a></span> +This pocket had already held a good many rabbits in its +time!</p> + +<p>Vatrin turned to congratulate Pritchard, but he had +disappeared.</p> + +<p>‘He’s off to find another rabbit,’ said Michel.</p> + +<p>And accordingly, after ten minutes or so, we came +upon Pritchard making another point. This time Vatrin +had a stick ready cut; and after a minute, plunging his +hands into a brier bush, he pulled out by the ears a second +rabbit.</p> + +<p>‘There, Michel,’ he said, ‘put that into your other +pocket.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh,’ said Michel, ‘there’s room for five more in this +one.’</p> + +<p>‘Hallo, Michel! people don’t say those things before +a magistrate.’ And turning to Vatrin I added, ‘Let us try +once more, Vatrin—the number three is approved by the +gods.’</p> + +<p>‘May be,’ said Vatrin, ‘but perhaps it won’t be approved +by M. Guérin.’</p> + +<p>M. Guérin was the police inspector.</p> + +<p>Next time we came upon Pritchard pointing, Vatrin +said, ‘I wonder how long he would stay like that;’ and +he pulled out his watch.</p> + +<p>‘Well, Vatrin,’ said I, ‘you shall try the experiment, +as it is in your own vocation; but I am afraid I have not +the time to spare.’</p> + +<p>Michel and I then returned home. Vatrin followed +with Pritchard an hour afterwards.</p> + +<p>‘Five-and-twenty minutes!’ he called out as soon as +he was within hearing. ‘And if the rabbit had not gone +away, the dog would have been there now.’</p> + +<p>‘Well, Vatrin, what do you think of him?’</p> + +<p>‘Why, I say he is a good pointer; he has only to learn +to retrieve, and that you can teach him yourself. I need +not keep him any longer.’</p> + +<p>‘Do you hear, Michel?’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>106]</a></span> +‘Oh, sir,’ said Michel, ‘he can do that already. He +retrieves like an angel!’</p> + +<p>This failed to convey to me an exact idea of the way +in which Pritchard retrieved. But Michel threw a handkerchief, +and Pritchard brought it back. He then threw +one of the rabbits that Vatrin carried, and Pritchard +brought back the rabbit. Michel then fetched an egg and +placed it on the ground. Pritchard retrieved the egg as +he had done the rabbit and the handkerchief.</p> + +<p>‘Well,’ said Vatrin, ‘the animal knows all that human +skill can teach him. He wants nothing now but practice. +And when one thinks,’ he added, ‘that if the rascal would +only come in to heel, he would be worth twenty pounds +if he was worth a penny.’</p> + +<p>‘True,’ said I with a sigh, ‘but you may give up hope, +Vatrin; that is a thing he will never consent to.’</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>I think that the time has now come to tell my readers +a little about Mademoiselle Desgarcins, Potich, and the +Last of the Laidmanoirs. Mademoiselle Desgarcins was a +tiny monkey; I do not know the place of her birth, but +I brought her from Havre, where I had gone—I don’t +know why—perhaps to look at the sea. But I thought +I must bring something home with me from Havre. I +was walking there on the quay, when at the door of a bird-fancier’s +shop I saw a green monkey and a blue and yellow +macaw. The monkey put its paw through the bars of its +cage and caught hold of my coat, while the blue parrot +turned its head and looked at me in such an affectionate +manner that I stopped, holding the monkey’s paw with +one hand, and scratching the parrot’s head with the other. +The little monkey gently drew my hand within reach of +her mouth, the parrot half shut its eyes and made a little +purring noise to express its pleasure.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>107]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 402px;"> +<a name="illo21" id="illo21"></a> +<img src="images/asb22.jpg" width="402" height="525" +alt="The shopman shows the animals to Dumas" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">‘MONSIEUR DUMAS, MAY I ACCOMMODATE YOU WITH MY MONKEY AND +MY PARROT?’</p> + +<p>‘Monsieur Dumas,’ said the shopman, coming out +with the air of a man who was more decided to sell than +I was to buy; ‘Monsieur Dumas, may I accommodate +you with my monkey and my parrot?’ It would have +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>108]</a></span> +been more to the purpose if he had said, ‘Monsieur +Dumas, may I <em>incommode</em> you with my monkey and my +parrot?’ However, after a little bargaining, I bought +both animals, as well as a cage for the monkey and a +perch for the parrot; and as soon as I arrived at home, +I introduced them to Michel.</p> + +<p>‘This,’ said Michel, ‘is the green monkey of Senegal—<i>Cercopithecus +sabæa</i>.’</p> + +<p>I looked at Michel in the greatest astonishment. ‘Do +you know Latin, Michel?’</p> + +<p>‘I don’t know Latin, but I know my “Dictionary of +Natural History.”’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, indeed! And do you know what bird this is?’ +I asked, showing him the parrot.</p> + +<p>‘To be sure I know it,’ said Michel. ‘It is the blue +and yellow macaw—<i>Macrocercus arararanna</i>. Oh, sir, +why did you not bring a female as well as a male?’</p> + +<p>‘What is the use, Michel, since parrots will not breed +in this country?’</p> + +<p>‘There you make a mistake, sir; the blue macaw will +breed in France.’</p> + +<p>‘In the south, perhaps?’</p> + +<p>‘It need not be in the south, sir.’</p> + +<p>‘Where then?’</p> + +<p>‘At Caen.’</p> + +<p>‘At Caen? I did not know Caen had a climate which +permits parrots to rear their young. Go and fetch my +gazetteer.’</p> + +<p>‘You will soon see,’ said Michel as he brought it. I +read: ‘Caen, capital of the department of Calvados, upon +the Orne and the Odon: 223 kilomètres west of Paris, +41,806 inhabitants.’</p> + +<p>‘You will see,’ said Michel, ‘the parrots are coming.’</p> + +<p>‘Great trade in plaster, salt, wood—taken by English +in 1346—retaken by the French &c., &c.—never mind +the date—That is all, Michel.’</p> + +<p>‘What! Your dictionary never says that the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>109]</a></span> +arararanna, otherwise called the blue macaw, produces young +at Caen?’</p> + +<p>‘No, Michel, it does not say that here.’</p> + +<p>‘What a dictionary! Just wait till I fetch you mine +and you will see.’</p> + +<p>Michel returned in a few minutes with his book of +Natural History.</p> + +<p>‘You will soon see, sir,’ he said, opening his dictionary +in his turn. ‘Parrot—here it is—parrots are monogamous.’</p> + +<p>‘As you know Latin, Michel, of course you know +what monogamous means.’</p> + +<p>‘That means that they can sing scales—gamut, I +suppose?’</p> + +<p>‘Well, no, Michel, not exactly. It means that they +have only one “wife.”’</p> + +<p>‘Indeed, sir? That is because they talk like us most +likely. Now, I have found the place: “It was long +believed that parrots were incapable of breeding in Europe, +but the contrary has been proved on a pair of blue +macaws which lived at Caen. M. Lamouroux furnishes +the details of these results.”’</p> + +<p>‘Let us hear the details which M. Lamouroux +furnishes.’</p> + +<p>‘“These macaws, from March 1818 until August 1822, +including a period of four years and a half, laid, in all, +sixty-two eggs.”’</p> + +<p>‘Michel, I never said they did not lay eggs; what I said +was—’</p> + +<p>‘“Out of this number,”’ continued Michel in a loud +voice, ‘“twenty-five young macaws were hatched, of +which only ten died. The others lived and continued +perfectly healthy.”’</p> + +<p>‘Michel, I confess to having entertained false ideas +on the subject of macaws.’</p> + +<p>‘“They laid at all seasons of the year,”’ continued +Michel, ‘“and more eggs were hatched in the latter than +in the former years.”’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>110]</a></span> +‘Michel, I have no more to say.’</p> + +<p>‘“The number of eggs in the nest varied. There +have been as many as six at a time.”’</p> + +<p>‘Michel, I yield, rescue or no rescue!’</p> + +<p>‘Only,’ said Michel, shutting the book, ‘you must be +careful not to give them bitter almonds or parsley.’</p> + +<p>‘Not bitter almonds,’ I answered, ‘because they contain +prussic acid; but why not parsley?’</p> + +<p>Michel, who had kept his thumb in the page, reopened +the book. ‘“Parsley and bitter almonds,”’ he read, +‘“are a violent poison to parrots.”’</p> + +<p>‘All right, Michel, I shall remember.’</p> + +<p>I remembered so well, that some time after, hearing +that M. Persil had died suddenly (persil being the French +for parsley), I exclaimed, much shocked: ‘Ah! poor man, +how unfortunate! He must have been eating parrot!’ +However, the news was afterwards contradicted.</p> + +<p>The next day I desired Michel to tell the carpenter +to make a new cage for Mademoiselle Desgarcins, who +would certainly die of cramp if left in her small travelling +cage. But Michel, with a solemn face, said it was +unnecessary. ‘For,’ said he, ‘I am sorry to tell you, sir, +that a misfortune has happened. A weasel has killed +the golden pheasant. You will, however, have it for your +dinner to-day.’</p> + +<p>I did not refuse, though the prospect of this repast +caused me no great pleasure. I am very fond of game, +but somehow prefer pheasants which have been shot to +those killed by weasels.</p> + +<p>‘Then,’ said I, ‘if the cage is empty, let us put in the +monkey.’ We brought the little cage close to the big +cage, and opened both doors. The monkey sprang into +her new abode, bounded from perch to perch, and then +came and looked at me through the bars, making grimaces +and uttering plaintive cries.</p> + +<p>‘She is unhappy without a companion,’ said Michel.</p> + +<p>‘Suppose we give her the parrot?’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>111]</a></span> +‘You know that little boy, an Auvergnat, who comes +here with his monkey asking for pennies. If I were you, +sir, I would buy that monkey.’</p> + +<p>‘And why that monkey rather than another?’</p> + +<p>‘He has been so well educated and is so gentle. He +has a cap with a feather, and he takes it off when you give +him a nut or a bit of sugar.’</p> + +<div class="figcenter ipadbase" style="width: 246px;"> +<a name="illo22" id="illo22"></a> +<img src="images/asb23.jpg" width="246" height="400" +alt="The Auvergnat and his monkey" /> +</div> + +<p>‘Can he do anything else?’</p> + +<p>‘He can fight a duel.’</p> + +<p>‘Is that all?’</p> + +<p>‘No, he can also catch fleas on his master.’</p> + +<p>‘But, Michel, do you think that that youth would part +with so useful an animal?’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>112]</a></span> +‘We can but ask him, and there he is at this moment!’ +And he called to the boy to come in. The monkey was +sitting on a box which the little boy carried on his back, +and when his master took off his cap, the monkey did the +same. It had a nice gentle little face, and I remarked to +Michel that it was very like a well-known translator of +my acquaintance.</p> + +<p>‘If I have the happiness to become the owner of this +charming animal,’ I continued, ‘we will call it Potich.’ +And giving Michel forty francs, I left him to make his +bargain with the little Auvergnat.</p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>I had not entered my study since my return from Havre, +and there is always a pleasure in coming home again +after an absence. I was glad to come back, and looked +about me with a pleased smile, feeling sure that the furniture +and ornaments of the room, if they could speak, +would say they were glad to see me again. As I glanced +from one familiar object to another, I saw, upon a seat +by the fire, a thing like a black and white muff, which I +had never seen before. When I came closer, I saw that +the muff was a little cat, curled up, half asleep, and purring +loudly. I called the cook, whose name was Madame +Lamarque. She came in after a minute or two.</p> + +<p>‘So sorry to have kept you waiting, but you see, sir, I +was making a white sauce, and you, who can cook yourself, +know how quickly those sauces curdle if you are not +looking after them.’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, I know that, Madame Lamarque; but what I +do not know is, where this new guest of mine comes +from.’ And I pointed to the cat.</p> + +<p>‘Ah, sir!’ said Madame Lamarque in a sentimental +tone, ‘that is an antony.’</p> + +<p>‘An antony, Madame Lamarque! What is that?’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>113]</a></span> +‘In other words, an orphan—a foundling, sir.’</p> + +<p>‘Poor little beast!’</p> + +<p>‘I felt sure that would interest you, sir.’</p> + +<p>‘And where did you find it, Madame Lamarque?’</p> + +<p>‘In the cellar—I heard a little cry—miaow, miaow, +miaow! and I said to myself, “That <em>must</em> be a cat!”’</p> + +<p>‘No! did you actually say that?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, and I went down myself, sir, and found the poor +little thing behind the sticks. Then I recollected how +you had once said, “We ought to have a cat in the +house.”’</p> + +<p>‘Did I say so? I think you are making a mistake, +Madame Lamarque.’</p> + +<p>‘Indeed, sir, you did say so. Then I said to myself, +“Providence has sent us the cat which my master wishes +for.” And now there is one question I must ask you, sir. +What shall we call the cat?’</p> + +<p>‘We will call it Mysouff, if you have no objection. +And please be careful, Madame Lamarque, that it does not +eat my quails and turtle-doves, or any of my little foreign +birds.’</p> + +<p>‘If M. Dumas is afraid of that,’ said Michel, coming +in, ‘there is a method of preventing cats from eating +birds.’</p> + +<p>‘And what is the method, my good friend?’</p> + +<p>‘You have a bird in a cage. Very well. You cover +three sides of the cage, you make a gridiron red-hot, you +put it against the uncovered side of the cage, you let out +the cat, and you leave the room. The cat, when it makes +its spring, jumps against the hot gridiron. The hotter +the gridiron is the better the cat is afterwards.’</p> + +<p>‘Thank you, Michel. And what of the troubadour +and his monkey?’</p> + +<p>‘To be sure; I was coming to tell you about that. +It is all right, sir; you are to have Potich for forty francs, +only you must give the boy two white mice and a guinea-pig +in return.’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>114]</a></span> +‘But where am I to find two white mice and a guinea-pig?’</p> + +<p>‘If you will leave the commission to me, I will see that +they are found.’</p> + +<p>I left the commission to Michel.</p> + +<p>‘If you won’t think me impertinent, sir,’ said Madame +Lamarque, ‘I should so like to know what <em>Mysouff</em> +means.’</p> + +<p>‘Mysouff just means Mysouff, Madame Lamarque.’</p> + +<p>‘It is a cat’s name, then?’</p> + +<p>‘Certainly, since Mysouff the First was so-called. It +is true, Madame Lamarque, you never knew Mysouff.’ +And I became so thoughtful that Madame Lamarque was +kind enough to withdraw quietly, without asking any +questions about Mysouff the First.</p> + +<p>That name had taken me back to fifteen years ago, +when my mother was still living. I had then the great +happiness of having a mother to scold me sometimes. At +the time I speak of, I had a situation in the service of the +Duc d’Orléans, with a salary of 1,500 francs. My work +occupied me from ten in the morning until five in the +afternoon. We had a cat in those days whose name was +Mysouff. This cat had missed his vocation—he ought to +have been a dog. Every morning I started for my office +at half-past nine, and came back every evening at half-past +five. Every morning Mysouff followed me to the +corner of a particular street, and every evening I found +him in the same street, at the same corner, waiting for +me. Now the curious thing was that on the days when +I had found some amusement elsewhere, and was not +coming home to dinner, it was no use to open the door +for Mysouff to go and meet me.<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> Mysouff, in the attitude +of the serpent with its tail in its mouth, refused to stir +from his cushion. On the other hand, the days I did +come, Mysouff would scratch at the door until someone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>115]</a></span> +opened it for him. My mother was very fond of Mysouff; +she used to call him her barometer.</p> + +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> +A remarkable instance of telepathy in the Cat.—A. L.</p> +</div> + +<p>‘Mysouff marks my good and my bad weather,’ my +dear mother would say; ‘the days you come in are my +days of sunshine; my rainy days are when you stay +away.’</p> + +<p>When I came home, I used to see Mysouff at the street +corner, sitting quite still and gazing into the distance. As +soon as he caught sight of me, he began to move his tail; +then as I drew nearer, he rose and walked backwards and +forwards across the pavement with his back arched and +his tail in the air. When I reached him, he jumped up +upon me as a dog would have done, and bounded and +played round me as I walked towards the house; but +when I was close to it he dashed in at full speed. Two +seconds after, I used to see my mother at the door.</p> + +<p>Never again in this world, but in the next perhaps, I +shall see her standing waiting for me at the door.</p> + +<p>That is what I was thinking of, dear readers, when +the name of Mysouff brought back all these recollections; +so you understand why I did not answer Madame Lamarque’s +questions.</p> + +<p>Henceforth Mysouff II. enjoyed the same privileges +that Mysouff I. had done, although, as will be seen later, +he was not distinguished by similar virtues, but was, in +fact, a very different sort of cat.</p> + + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<p>The following Sunday, when my son Alexandre and +one or two intimate friends were assembled in my room, a +second Auvergnat boy, with a second monkey, demanded +admittance, and said that a friend having told him that +M. Dumas had bought his monkey for forty francs, two +white mice, and a guinea-pig, he was prepared to offer +his for the same price. My friends urged me to buy the +second monkey.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>116]</a></span> +‘Do buy this charming creature,’ said my artist friend +Giraud.</p> + +<p>‘Yes, do buy this ridiculous little beast,’ said Alexandre.</p> + +<p>‘Buy him, indeed,’ said I; ‘have I forty francs to give +away every day, to say nothing of a guinea-pig and two +white mice?’</p> + +<p>‘Gentlemen,’ said Alexandre, ‘I am sorry to tell you +that my father is, without exception, the most avaricious +man living.’</p> + +<p>My guests exclaimed, but Alexandre said that one day +he would prove the truth of his assertion. I was now +called upon to admire the monkey, and to remark how +like he was to a friend of ours. Giraud, who was painting +a portrait of this gentleman, said that if I would let the +monkey sit to him, it would help him very much in his +work, and Maquet, another of my guests, offered, amidst +general applause, to make me a present of it.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> This decided +me.</p> + +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> +Maquet. The immortal Augustus MacKeat.</p> +</div> + +<p>‘You see,’ said Alexandre, ‘he accepts.’</p> + +<p>‘Come, young man,’ said I to the Auvergnat, ‘embrace +your monkey for the last time, and if you have any tears +to shed, shed them without delay.’</p> + +<p>When the full price was paid, the boy made an attempt +to do as I told him, but the Last of the Laidmanoirs refused +to be embraced by his former master, and as soon +as the latter had gone away, he seemed delighted and +began to dance, while Mademoiselle Desgarcins in her +cage danced, too, with all her might.</p> + +<p>‘Look!’ said Maquet, ‘they like each other. Let us +complete the happiness of these interesting animals.’</p> + +<p>We shut them up in the cage together, to the great +delight of Mademoiselle Desgarcins, who did not care for +Potich, and much preferred her new admirer. Potich, +indeed, showed signs of jealousy, but, not being armed +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>117]</a></span> +with the sword which he used to have when he fought +duels, he could not wash out his affronts in the blood +of his rival, but became a prey to silent melancholy and +wounded affection.</p> + +<p>While we were still looking at the monkeys, a servant +came in bringing a tray with wine and seltzer water.</p> + +<p>‘I say,’ said Alexandre, ‘let us make Mademoiselle +Desgarcins open the seltzer-water bottle!’ and he put the +bottle inside the cage on the floor. No sooner had he +done so, than all three monkeys surrounded it and looked +at it with the greatest curiosity. Mademoiselle Desgarcins +was the first to understand that something would happen +if she undid the four crossed wires which held down the +cork. She accordingly set to work, first with her fingers, +and then with her teeth, and it was not long before she +undid the first three. She next attacked the fourth, +while the whole company, both men and monkeys, +watched her proceedings with breathless attention. Presently +a frightful explosion was heard: Mademoiselle +Desgarcins was knocked over by the cork and drenched +with seltzer water, while Potich and the Last of the +Laidmanoirs fled to the top of their cage, uttering piercing +cries.</p> + +<p>‘Oh!’ cried Alexandre, ‘I’ll give my share of seltzer +water to see her open another bottle!’ Mademoiselle +Desgarcins had got up, shaken herself, and gone to rejoin +her companions, who were still howling lamentably.</p> + +<p>‘You don’t suppose she’ll let herself be caught a second +time,’ said Giraud.</p> + +<p>‘Do you know,’ said Maquet, ‘I should not wonder if +she would. I believe her curiosity would still be stronger +than her fear.’</p> + +<p>‘Monkeys,’ said Michel, who had come in on hearing +their cries, ‘are more obstinate than mules. The more +seltzer-water bottles you give them, the more they will +uncork.’</p> + +<p>‘Do you think so, Michel?’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>118]</a></span> +‘You know, of course, how they catch them in their +own country.’</p> + +<p>‘No, Michel.’</p> + +<p>‘What! you don’t know <em>that</em>, gentlemen?’ said +Michel, full of compassion for our ignorance. ‘You know +that monkeys are very fond of Indian corn. Well, you +put some Indian corn into a bottle, the neck of which is +just large enough to admit a monkey’s paw. He sees the +Indian corn through the glass——’</p> + +<p>‘Well, Michel?’</p> + +<p>‘He puts his hand inside, and takes a good handful +of the Indian corn. At that moment the hunter shows +himself. They are so obstinate—the monkeys, I mean—that +they won’t let go what they have in their hand, but +as they can’t draw their closed fist through the opening, +there they are, you see, caught.’</p> + +<p>‘Well, then, Michel, if ever our monkeys get out, you +will know how to catch them again.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh! no fear, sir, that is just what I shall do.’</p> + +<p>The seltzer-water experiment was successfully repeated, +to the triumph of Michel and the delight of Alexandre, +who wished to go on doing it; but I forbade him, +seeing that poor Mademoiselle Desgarcins’ nose was +bleeding from the blow of the cork.</p> + +<p>‘It is not that,’ said Alexandre; ‘it is because you +grudge your seltzer water. I have already remarked, +gentlemen, that my father is, I regret to say, an exceedingly +avaricious man.’</p> + + +<h3>V</h3> + +<p>It is now my painful duty to give my readers some +account of the infamous conduct of Mysouff II. One +morning, on waking rather late, I saw my bedroom door +gently opened, and the head of Michel thrust in, wearing +such a concerned expression that I knew at once that +something was wrong.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>119]</a></span> +‘What has happened, Michel?’</p> + +<p>‘Why, sir, those villains of monkeys have managed to +twist a bar of their cage, I don’t know how, until they +have made a great hole, and now they have escaped.’</p> + +<p>‘Well—but, Michel, we foresaw that that might occur, +and now you have only to buy your Indian corn, and +procure three bottles the right size.’</p> + +<p>‘Ah! you are laughing, sir,’ said Michel, reproachfully, +‘but you won’t laugh when you know all. They +have opened the door of the aviary——’</p> + +<p>‘And so my birds have flown away?’</p> + +<p>‘Sir, your six pairs of turtle doves, your fourteen +quails, and all your little foreign birds, are eaten up!’<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> +Let the reader compare the conduct of Mr. Gully, later!</p> +</div> + +<p>‘But monkeys won’t eat birds!’</p> + +<p>‘No, but Master Mysouff will, and he has done it!’</p> + +<p>‘The deuce he has! I must see for myself.’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, go yourself, sir; you will see a sight—a field of +battle—a massacre of St. Bartholomew!’</p> + +<p>As I was coming out, Michel stopped me to point to +Potich, who had hung himself by the tail to the branch +of a maple, and was swinging gracefully to and fro. +Mademoiselle Desgarcins was bounding gaily about in +the aviary, while the Last of the Laidmanoirs was practising +gymnastics on the top of the greenhouse. ‘Well, +Michel, we must catch them. I will manage the Last of +the Laidmanoirs if you will get hold of Mademoiselle +Desgarcins. As to poor little Potich, he will come of his +own accord.’</p> + +<p>‘I wouldn’t trust him, sir; he is a hypocrite. He has +made it up with the other one—just think of that!’</p> + +<p>‘What! he has made friends with his rival in the +affections of Mademoiselle Desgarcins?’</p> + +<p>‘Just so, sir.’</p> + +<p>‘That is sad indeed, Michel; I thought only human +beings could be guilty of so mean an action.’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>120]</a></span> +‘You see, sir, these monkeys have frequented the +society of human beings.’</p> + +<div class="figcenter ipadbase" style="width: 407px;"> +<a name="illo23" id="illo23"></a> +<img src="images/asb24.jpg" width="407" height="580" +alt="The Last of the Laidmanoirs and Mademoiselle Desgarcins" /> +</div> + +<p>I now advanced upon the Last of the Laidmanoirs +with so much precaution that I +contrived to shut him into the +greenhouse, where he retreated +into a corner and prepared to +defend himself, while Potich, from +the outside, encouraged his friend +by making horrible faces at me +through the glass. At this moment +piercing shrieks were heard +from Mademoiselle Desgarcins; +Michel had just caught her. +These cries so enraged the Last +of the Laidmanoirs that he dashed +out upon me; but I parried his +attack with the palm of my hand; +with which he came in contact +so forcibly that he lost breath +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>121]</a></span> +for a minute, and I then picked him up by the scruff +of the neck.</p> + +<p>‘Have you caught Mademoiselle Desgarcins?’ I shouted +to Michel.</p> + +<p>‘Have you caught the Last of the Laidmanoirs?’ +returned he.</p> + +<p>‘Yes!’ we both replied in turn. And each bearing +his prisoner, we returned to the cage, which had in the +meantime been mended, and shut them up once more, +whilst Potich, with loud lamentations, fled to the top of +the highest tree in the garden. No sooner, however, did +he find that his two companions were unable to get out +of their cage, than he came down from his tree, approached +Michel in a timid and sidelong manner, and with clasped +hands and little plaintive cries, entreated to be shut up +again with his friends.</p> + +<p>‘Just see what a hypocrite he is!’ said Michel.</p> + +<p>But I was of opinion that the conduct of Potich was +prompted by devotion rather than hypocrisy; I compared +it to that of Regulus, who returned to Carthage to keep +his promised word, or to King John of France, who +voluntarily gave himself up to the English for the Countess +of Salisbury’s sake.</p> + +<p>Michel continued to think Potich a hypocrite, but on +account of his repentance he was forgiven. He was put +back into the cage, where Mademoiselle Desgarcins took +very little notice of him.</p> + +<p>All this time Mysouff, having been forgotten, calmly +remained in the aviary, and continued to crunch the +bones of his victims with the most hardened indifference. +It was easy enough to catch <em>him</em>. We shut him into the +aviary, and held a council as to what should be his +punishment. Michel was of opinion that he should be +shot forthwith. I was, however, opposed to his immediate +execution, and resolved to wait until the following Sunday, +and then to cause Mysouff to be formally tried by my +assembled friends. The condemnation was therefore +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>122]</a></span> +postponed. In the meantime Mysouff remained a +prisoner in the very spot where his crimes had been +committed. He continued, however, to refresh himself +with the remains of his victims without apparent remorse, +but Michel removed all the bodies, and confined him to a +diet of bread and water.</p> + +<p>Next Sunday, having convoked a council of all my +friends, the trial was proceeded with. Michel was +appointed Chief Justice and Nogent Saint-Laurent was +counsel for the prisoner. I may remark that the jury +were inclined to find a verdict of guilty, and after the +first speech of the Judge, the capital sentence seemed +almost certain. But the skilful advocate, in a long and +eloquent speech, brought clearly before us the innocence +of Mysouff, the malice of the monkeys, their quickness +and incessant activity compared with the less inventive +minds of cats. He showed us that Mysouff was incapable +of contemplating such a crime; he described him wrapped +in peaceful sleep, then, suddenly aroused from this +innocent slumber by the abandoned creatures who, living +as they did opposite the aviary, had doubtless long +harboured their diabolical designs. We saw Mysouff but +half awake, still purring innocently, stretching himself, +opening his pink mouth, from which protruded a tongue +like that of a heraldic lion. He shakes his ears, a proof +that he rejects the infamous proposal that is being made +to him; he listens; at first he refuses—the advocate +insisted that the prisoner had begun by refusing—then, +naturally yielding, hardly more than a kitten, corrupted +as he had been by the cook, who instead of feeding him +on milk or a little weak broth, as she had been told to do, +had recklessly excited his carnivorous appetite by giving +him pieces of liver and parings of raw chops; the +unfortunate young cat yields little by little, prompted +more by good nature and weakness of mind than by +cruelty or greed, and, only half awake, he does the bidding +of the villainous monkeys, the real instigators of the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>123]</a></span> +crime. The counsel here took the prisoner in his arms, +showed us his paws, and defied any anatomist to say that +with paws so made, an animal could possibly open a door +that was bolted. Finally, he borrowed Michel’s Dictionary +of Natural History, opened it at the article ‘Cat,’ +‘Domestic Cat,’ ‘Wild Cat’; he proved that Mysouff was +no wild cat, seeing that nature had robed him in white, +the colour of innocence; then smiting the book with +vehemence, ‘Cat!’ he exclaimed, ‘Cat! You shall now +hear, gentlemen, what the illustrious Buffon, the man +with lace sleeves, has to say about the cat.</p> + +<p>‘“The cat,” says M. de Buffon, “is not to be trusted, +but it is kept to rid the house of enemies which cannot +otherwise be destroyed. Although the cat, especially +when young, is pleasing, nature has given it perverse and +untrustworthy qualities which increase with age, and +which education may conceal, but will not eradicate.” +Well, then,’ exclaimed the orator, after having read this +passage, ‘what more remains to be said? Did poor +Mysouff come here with a false character seeking a +situation? Was it not the cook herself who found him—who +took him by force from the heap of sticks behind +which he had sought refuge? It was merely to interest +and touch the heart of her master that she described him +mewing in the cellar. We must reflect also, that those +unhappy birds, his victims—I allude especially to the +quails, which are eaten by man—though their death is +doubtless much to be deplored, yet they must have felt +themselves liable to death at any moment, and are now +released from the terrors they experienced every time +they saw the cook approaching their retreat. Finally, +gentlemen, I appeal to your justice, and I think you will +now admit that the interesting and unfortunate Mysouff +has but yielded, not only to incontrollable natural instincts, +but also to foreign influence. I claim for my client the +plea of extenuating circumstances.’</p> + +<p>The counsel’s pleading was received with cries of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>124]</a></span> +applause, and Mysouff, found guilty of complicity in the +murder of the quails, turtle-doves, and other birds of +different species, but with extenuating circumstances, was +sentenced only to five years of monkeys.</p> + + +<h3>VI</h3> + +<p>The next winter, certain circumstances, with which I +need not trouble my readers, led to my making a journey +to Algiers. I seldom make any long journey without +bringing home some animal to add to my collection, and +accordingly I returned from Africa accompanied by a +vulture, which I bought from a little boy who called himself +a Beni-Mouffetard. I paid ten francs for the vulture, +and made the Beni-Mouffetard a present of two more, +in return for which he warned me that my vulture was +excessively savage, and had already bitten off the thumb +of an Arab and the tail of a dog. I promised to be very +careful, and the next day I became the possessor of a +magnificent vulture, whose only fault consisted in a strong +desire to tear in pieces everybody who came near him. I +bestowed on him the name of his compatriot, Jugurtha. +He had a chain fastened to his leg, and had for further +security been placed in a large cage made of spars. In this +cage he travelled quite safely as far as Philippeville, without +any other accident than that he nearly bit off the finger +of a passenger who had tried to make friends with him. +At Philippeville a difficulty arose. It was three miles +from Stora, the port where we were to embark, and the +diligence did not go on so far. I and several other gentlemen +thought that we would like to walk to Stora, the +scenery being beautiful and the distance not very great; +but what was I to do about Jugurtha? I could not ask +a porter to carry the cage; Jugurtha would certainly +have eaten him through the spars. I thought of a plan: +it was to lengthen his chain eight or ten feet by means of +a cord; and then to drive him in front of me with a long +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>125]</a></span> +pole. But the first difficulty was to induce Jugurtha to +come out of his cage; none of us dared put our hands +within reach of his beak. However, I managed to fasten +the cord to his chain, then I made two men armed with +pickaxes break away the spars. Jugurtha finding himself +free, spread out his wings to fly away, but he could of +course only fly as far as his cord would permit.</p> + +<p>Now Jugurtha was a very intelligent creature; he saw +that there was an obstacle in the way of his liberty, and +that I was that obstacle; he therefore turned upon me +with fury, in the hope of putting me to flight, or devouring +me in case of resistance. I, however, was no less +sagacious than Jugurtha; I had foreseen the attack, and +provided myself with a good switch made of dogwood, as +thick as one’s forefinger, and eight feet long. With this +switch I parried Jugurtha’s attack, which astonished but +did not stop him; however, a second blow, given with all +my force, made him stop short, and a third caused him to +fly in the opposite direction, that is, towards Stora. Once +launched upon this road, I had only to use my switch +adroitly to make Jugurtha proceed at about the same pace +as we did ourselves, to the great admiration of my fellow-travellers, +and of all the people whom we met on the road. +On our arrival at Stora Jugurtha made no difficulty about +getting on board the steamer, and when tied to the mast, +waited calmly while a new cage was made for him. He +went into it of his own accord, received with gratitude the +pieces of meat which the ship’s cook gave him, and three +days after his embarkation he became so tame that he +used to present me with his head to scratch, as a parrot +does. I brought Jugurtha home without further adventure, +and committed him to the charge of Michel.</p> + +<p>It was not until my return from Algiers on this occasion +that I went to live at Monte Cristo, the building of +which had been finished during my absence. Up to this +time I had lived in a smaller house called the Villa +Medicis, and while the other was building, Michel made +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>126]</a></span> +arrangements for the proper lodging of all my animals, +for he was much more occupied about their comfort than +he was about mine or even his own. They had all plenty +of room, particularly the dogs, who were not confined by +any sort of enclosure, and Pritchard, who was naturally +generous, kept open house with a truly Scottish hospitality. +It was his custom to sit in the middle of the road +and salute every dog that passed with a little not unfriendly +growl; smelling him, and permitting himself to +be smelt in a ceremonious manner. When a mutual +sympathy had been produced by this means, a conversation +something like this would begin:</p> + +<p>‘Have you a good master?’ asked the strange dog.</p> + +<p>‘Not bad,’ Pritchard would reply.</p> + +<p>‘Does your master feed you well?’</p> + +<p>‘Well, one has porridge twice a day, bones at breakfast +and dinner, and anything one can pick up in the +kitchen besides.’</p> + +<p>The stranger licked his lips.</p> + +<p>‘You are not badly off,’ said he.</p> + +<p>‘I do not complain,’ replied Pritchard. Then, seeing +the strange dog look pensive, he added, ‘Would you like +to dine with us?’</p> + +<p>The invitation was accepted at once, for dogs do not +wait to be pressed, like some foolish human beings.</p> + +<p>At dinner-time Pritchard came in, followed by an unknown +dog, who, like Pritchard, placed himself beside +my chair, and scratched my knee with his paw in such +a confiding way that I felt sure that Pritchard must +have been commending my benevolence. The dog, after +spending a pleasant evening, found that it was rather too +late to return home, so slept comfortably on the grass +after his good supper. Next morning he took two or three +steps as if to go away, then changing his mind, he inquired +of Pritchard, ‘Should I be much in the way if I stayed +on here?’</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="illo24" id="illo24"></a> +<img src="images/asb25.jpg" width="600" height="385" +alt="Dumas walks along the dockside with the vulture on a leash" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">DUMAS ARRIVES AT STORA WITH HIS VULTURE</p> + +<p>Pritchard replied, ‘You could quite well, with management, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127"><!-- original location of Vulture illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>129]</a></span> +make them believe you are the neighbour’s dog, +and after two or three days, nobody would know you did +not belong to the house. You might live here just as well +as those idle useless monkeys, who do nothing but amuse +themselves, or that greedy vulture, who eats tripe all day +long, or that idiot of a macaw, who is always screaming +about nothing.’</p> + +<p>The dog stayed, keeping in the background at first, +but in a day or two he jumped up upon me and followed +me everywhere, and there was another guest to feed, that +was all. Michel asked me one day if I knew how many +dogs there were about the place. I answered that I did +not.</p> + +<p>‘Sir,’ said Michel, ‘there are thirteen.’</p> + +<p>‘That is an unlucky number, Michel; you must see +that they do not all dine together, else one of them is sure +to die first.’</p> + +<p>‘It is not that, though,’ said Michel, ‘it is the expense +I am thinking of. Why, they would eat an ox a day, all +those dogs; and if you will allow me, sir, I will just take +a whip and put the whole pack to the door, to-morrow +morning.’</p> + +<p>‘But, Michel, let us do it handsomely. These dogs, +after all, do honour to the house by staying here. So give +them a grand dinner to-morrow; tell them that it is the +farewell banquet, and then, at dessert, put them all to the +door.’</p> + +<p>‘But after all, sir, I cannot put them to the door, +because there isn’t a door.’</p> + +<p>‘Michel,’ said I, ‘there are certain things in this world +that one must just put up with, to keep up one’s character +and position. Since all these dogs have come to me, let +them stay with me. I don’t think they will ruin me, +Michel. Only, on their own account, you should be careful +that there are not thirteen.’</p> + +<p>‘I will drive away one,’ suggested Michel, ‘and then +there will only be twelve.’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>130]</a></span> +‘On the contrary, let another come, and then there +will be fourteen.’</p> + +<p>Michel sighed.</p> + +<p>‘It’s a regular kennel,’ he murmured.</p> + +<p>It was, in fact, a pack of hounds, though rather a +mixed one. There was a Russian wolfhound, there was +a poodle, a water spaniel, a spitz, a dachshund with +crooked legs, a mongrel terrier, a mongrel King Charles, +and a Turkish dog which had no hair on its body, only a +tuft upon its head and a tassel at the end of its tail. Our +next recruit was a little Maltese terrier, named Lisette, +which raised the number to fourteen. After all, the expense +of these fourteen amounted to rather over two +pounds a month. A single dinner given to five or six of +my own species would have cost me three times as much, +and they would have gone away dissatisfied; for, even if +they had liked my wine, they would certainly have found +fault with my books. Out of this pack of hounds, one +became Pritchard’s particular friend and Michel’s favourite. +This was a dachshund with short crooked legs, a +long body, and, as Michel said, the finest voice in the +department of Seine-et-Oise. Portugo—that was his +name—had in truth a most magnificent bass voice. I used +to hear it sometimes in the night when I was writing, and +think how that deep-toned majestic bark would please +St. Hubert if he heard it in his grave. But what was +Portugo doing at that hour, and why was he awake while +the other dogs slumbered? This mystery was revealed +one day, when a stewed rabbit was brought me for dinner. +I inquired where the rabbit came from.</p> + +<p>‘You thought it good, sir?’ Michel asked me with a +pleased face.</p> + +<p>‘Excellent.’</p> + +<p>‘Well, then, you can have one just the same every +day, sir, if you like.’</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="illo25" id="illo25"></a> +<img src="images/asb26.jpg" width="600" height="382" +alt="Dumas, Michel and the fourteen dogs" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">‘IT’S A REGULAR KENNEL’</p> + +<p>‘Every day, Michel? Surely that is almost too much +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131"><!-- original location of Kennel illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>133]</a></span> +to promise. Besides, I should like, before consuming so +many rabbits, to know where they come from.’</p> + +<p>‘You shall know that this very night, if you don’t mind +coming out with me.’</p> + +<p>‘Ah! Michel, I have told you before that you are a +poacher!’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, sir, as to that, I am as innocent as a baby—and, +as I was saying, if you will only come out with me to-night—’</p> + +<p>‘Must I go far, Michel?’</p> + +<p>‘Not a hundred yards, sir.’</p> + +<p>‘At what o’clock?’</p> + +<p>‘Just at the moment when you hear Portugo’s first +bark.’</p> + +<p>‘Very well, Michel, I will be with you.’</p> + +<p>I had nearly forgotten this promise, and was writing +as usual, when Michel came into my study. It was about +eleven o’clock, and a fine moonlight night.</p> + +<p>‘Hallo!’ said I, ‘Portugo hasn’t barked yet, has he?’</p> + +<p>‘No, but I was just thinking that if you waited for +that, you would miss seeing something curious.’</p> + +<p>‘What should I miss, Michel?’</p> + +<p>‘The council of war which is held between Pritchard +and Portugo.’</p> + +<p>I followed Michel, and sure enough, among the fourteen +dogs, which were mostly sleeping in different attitudes, +Portugo and Pritchard were sitting up, and seemed +to be gravely debating some important question. When +the debate was ended, they separated; Portugo went out +at the gate to the high road, turned the corner, and disappeared, +while Pritchard began deliberately, as if he had +plenty of time before him, to follow the little path which +led up to a stone quarry. We followed Pritchard, who +took no notice of us, though he evidently knew we were +there. He went up to the top of the quarry, examined and +smelt about over the ground with great care, and when he +had found a scent and assured himself that it was fresh, he +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>134]</a></span> +lay down flat and waited. Almost at the same moment, +Portugo’s first bark was heard some two hundred yards +off. Now the plan the two dogs had laid was clear to us. +The rabbits came out of their holes in the quarry every +evening to go to their feeding ground; Pritchard found +the scent of one; Portugo then made a wide circuit, found +and chased the rabbit, and, as a rabbit or a hare always +comes back upon its former track, Pritchard, lying in +ambush, awaited its return. Accordingly, as the sound +of Portugo’s barking came closer, we saw Pritchard’s +yellow eyes light up and flame like a topaz; then all of +a sudden he made a spring, and we heard a cry of fright +and distress.</p> + +<p>‘They’ve done it!’ said Michel, and he went to Pritchard, +took out of his mouth a nice plump rabbit, gave it +a blow behind the ears to finish it, and, opening it on the +spot, gave the inside to the two dogs, who shared their +portion contentedly, although they probably regretted +Michel’s interference. As Michel told me, I could have +eaten a stewed rabbit every day for dinner, if such had +been my desire.</p> + +<p>But after this, events of a different kind were taking +place, which obliged me to leave my country pursuits, +and I spent about two months in Paris. The day before I +returned to St.-Germains I wrote and told Michel to +expect me, and found him waiting for me on the road +half way from the station.</p> + +<p>‘I must tell you, sir,’ he said, as soon as I was within +hearing, ‘that two important events have happened at +Monte Cristo since you went away.’</p> + +<p>‘Well, Michel, let me hear.’</p> + +<p>‘In the first place, Pritchard got his hind foot into a +snare and instead of staying where he was as any other +dog would have done, he bit off his foot with his teeth, +and so he came home upon three legs.’</p> + +<p>‘But,’ said I, much shocked, ‘is the poor beast dead +after such an accident?’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>135]</a></span> +‘Dead, sir? Was not I there to doctor him?’</p> + +<p>‘And what did you do to him then?’</p> + +<p>‘I cut off the foot properly at the joint with a pruning +knife. I then sewed the skin neatly over it, and now +you would never know it was off! Look there, the rascal +has smelt you and is coming to meet you.’</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 411px;"> +<a name="illo26" id="illo26"></a> +<img src="images/asb27.jpg" width="411" height="420" +alt="The vulture in his tub" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">JUGURTHA BECOMES DIOGENES</p> + +<p>And at that moment Pritchard appeared, coming at full +gallop, so that, as Michel had said, one would hardly +have noticed that he had only three feet. My meeting +with Pritchard was, as may be supposed, full of deep +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>136]</a></span> +emotion on both sides. I was sorry for the poor animal. +When I had recovered a little, I asked Michel what his +other piece of news was.</p> + +<p>‘The latest news, sir, is that Jugurtha’s name is no +longer Jugurtha.’</p> + +<p>‘What is it then?’</p> + +<p>‘It is Diogenes.’</p> + +<p>‘And why?’</p> + +<p>‘Look, sir!’</p> + +<p>We had now reached the little avenue of ash-trees +which formed the entrance to the villa. To the left of +the avenue the vulture was seen walking proudly to and +fro in an immense tub, which Michel had made into a +house for him.</p> + +<p>‘Ah! now I understand,’ said I. ‘Of course, directly +he lives in a tub——’</p> + +<p>‘That’s it!’ said Michel. ‘Directly he lives in a tub, +he cannot be Jugurtha any more; he <em>must</em> be Diogenes.’</p> + +<p>I admired Michel’s historical learning no less than I +did his surgical skill, just as the year before, I had bowed +before his superior knowledge of natural history.</p> + + +<h3>VII</h3> + +<p>In order to lead to more incidents in the life of Pritchard +I must now tell my readers that I had a friend called +Charpillon, who had a passion for poultry, and kept the +finest hens in the whole department of Yonne. These +hens were chiefly Cochins and Brahmapootras; they laid +the most beautiful brown eggs, and Charpillon surrounded +them with every luxury and never would allow them to be +killed. He had the inside of his hen-house painted green, +in order that the hens, even when shut up, might fancy +themselves in a meadow. In fact, the illusion was so +complete, that when the hen-house was first painted, the +hens refused to go in at night, fearing to catch cold; but +after a short time even the least intelligent among them +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>137]</a></span> +understood that she had the good fortune to belong to a +master who knew how to combine the useful with the +beautiful. Whenever these hens ventured out upon the +road, strangers would exclaim with delight, ‘Oh! what +beautiful hens!’ to which some one better acquainted +with the wonders of this fortunate village would reply, +‘I should think so! These are M. Charpillon’s hens.’ Or, +if the speaker were of an envious disposition, he might +add, ‘Yes indeed! hens that <em>nothing</em> is thought too good +for!’</p> + +<p>When my friend Charpillon heard that I had returned +from Paris, he invited me to come and stay with him to +shoot, adding as a further inducement that he would give +me the best and freshest eggs I had ever eaten in my life. +Though I did not share Charpillon’s great love of poultry, +I am very fond of fresh eggs, and the nankeen-coloured +eggs laid by his Brahma hens had an especially delicate +flavour. But all earthly pleasures are uncertain. The +next morning Charpillon’s hens were found to have only +laid three eggs instead of eight. Such a thing had never +happened before, and Charpillon did not know whom to +suspect; however he suspected every one rather than his +hens, and a sort of cloud began to obscure the confidence +he had hitherto placed in the security of his enclosures. +While these gloomy doubts were occupying us, I observed +Michel hovering about as if he had something on his mind, +and asked him if he wanted to speak to me.</p> + +<p>‘I should be glad to have a few words with you, sir.’</p> + +<p>‘In private?’</p> + +<p>‘It would be better so, for the honour of Pritchard.’</p> + +<p>‘Ah, indeed? What has the rascal been doing +now?’</p> + +<p>‘You remember, sir, what your solicitor said to you one +day when I was in the room?’</p> + +<p>‘What did he say, Michel? My solicitor is a clever +man, and says many sensible things; still it is difficult for +me to remember them all.’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>138]</a></span> +‘Well, sir,’ he said, ‘find out whom the crime benefits, +and you will find the criminal.’</p> + +<p>‘I remember that axiom perfectly, Michel. Well?’</p> + +<p>‘Well, sir, whom can this crime of stolen eggs benefit +more than Pritchard?’</p> + +<p>‘Pritchard? You think it is he who steals the eggs? +Pritchard, who brings home eggs without breaking them!’</p> + +<p>‘You mean who <em>used</em> to bring them. Pritchard is an +animal who has vicious instincts, sir, and if he does not +come to a bad end some day, I shall be surprised, that’s +all.’</p> + +<p>‘Does Pritchard eat eggs, then?’</p> + +<p>‘He does; and it is only right to say, sir, that that is +<em>your</em> fault.’</p> + +<p>‘What! my fault? My fault that Pritchard eats +eggs?’</p> + +<p>Michel shook his head sadly, but nothing could shake +his opinion.</p> + +<p>‘Now really, Michel, this is too much! Is it not enough +that critics tell me that I pervert everybody’s mind with +my corrupt literature, but you must join my detractors +and say that my bad example corrupts Pritchard?’</p> + +<p>‘I beg pardon, sir, but do you remember how one day, +at the Villa Medicis, while you were eating an egg, M. +Rusconi who was there said something so ridiculous that +you let the egg fall upon the floor?’</p> + +<p>‘I remember that quite well.’</p> + +<p>‘And do you remember calling in Pritchard, who was +scraping up a bed of fuchsias in the garden, and making +him lick up the egg?’</p> + +<p>‘I do not remember him scraping up a bed of fuchsias, +but I do recollect that he licked up my egg.’</p> + +<p>‘Well, sir, it is that and nothing else that has been +his ruin. Oh! he is quick enough to learn what is wrong; +there is no need to show it him twice.’</p> + +<p>‘Michel, you are really extremely tedious. How have +I shown Pritchard what is wrong?’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>139]</a></span> +‘By making him eat an egg. You see, sir, before that +he was as innocent as a new-born babe; he didn’t know +what an egg was—he thought it was a badly made golf +ball. But as soon as you make him eat an egg, he learns +what it is. Three days afterwards, M. Alexandre came +home, and was complaining to me of his dog—that he was +rough and tore things with his teeth in carrying them. +“Ah! look at Pritchard,” I said to him, “how gentle +<em>he</em> is! you shall see the way he carries an egg.” So I +fetched an egg from the kitchen, placed it on the ground, +and said, “Fetch, Pritchard!” Pritchard didn’t need +to be told twice, but what do you think the cunning rascal +did? You remember, some days before, Monsieur —— the +gentleman who had such a bad toothache, you know. +You recollect his coming to see you?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, of course I remember.’</p> + +<p>‘Well, Pritchard pretended not to notice, but those +yellow eyes of his notice everything. Well, all of a +sudden he pretended to have the same toothache that +that gentleman had, and crack! goes the egg. Then he +pretends to be ashamed of his awkwardness—he swallows +it in a hurry, shell and all! I believed him—I thought +it was an accident and fetched another egg. Scarcely +did he make three steps with the egg in his mouth than +the toothache comes on again, and crack! goes the second +egg. I began then to suspect something—I went and got +a third, but if I hadn’t stopped then he’d have eaten +the whole basketful. So then M. Alexandre, who likes his +joke, said, “Michel, you may possibly make a good +musician of Pritchard, or a good astronomer, but he’ll +never be a good incubator!”’</p> + +<p>‘How is it that you never told me this before, +Michel?’</p> + +<p>‘Because I was ashamed, sir; for this is not the +worst.’</p> + +<p>‘What! not the worst?’</p> + +<p>Michel shook his head.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>140]</a></span> +‘He has developed an unnatural craving for eggs; he +got into M. Acoyer’s poultry-yard and stole all his. M. +Acoyer came to complain to me. How do you suppose +he lost his foot?’</p> + +<p>‘You told me yourself—in somebody’s grounds where +he had forgotten to read the notice about trespassing.’</p> + +<p>‘You are joking, sir—but I really believe he can +read.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh! Michel, Pritchard is accused of enough sins +without having <em>that</em> vice laid to his charge! But about +his foot?’</p> + +<p>‘I think he caught it in some wire getting out of a +poultry-yard.’</p> + +<p>‘But you know it happened at night, and the hens +are shut up at night. How could he get into the hen-house?’</p> + +<p>‘He doesn’t need to get into the hen-house after eggs; +he can charm the hens. Pritchard is what one may call +a charmer.’</p> + +<p>‘Michel, you astonish me more and more!’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, indeed, sir. I knew that he used to charm +the hens at the Villa Medicis; only M. Charpillon has +such wonderful hens, I did not think they would have +allowed it. But I see now all hens are alike.’</p> + +<p>‘Then you think it is Pritchard who——’</p> + +<p>‘I think he charms M. Charpillon’s hens, and that is +the reason they don’t lay—at least, that they only lay for +Pritchard.’</p> + +<p>‘Indeed, Michel, I should much like to know how he +does it!’</p> + +<p>‘If you are awake very early to-morrow, sir, just look +out of your window—you can see the poultry-yard from +it, and you will see a sight that you have never seen +before!’</p> + +<p>‘I have seen many things, Michel, including sixteen +changes of governments, and to see something I have +never seen before I would gladly sit up the whole night!’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>141]</a></span> +‘There is no need for that—I can wake you at the +right time.’</p> + +<p>The next day at early dawn, Michel awoke me.</p> + +<p>‘I am ready, Michel,’ said I, coming to the window.</p> + +<p>‘Wait, wait! let me open it very gently. If Pritchard +suspects that he is watched, he won’t stir; you have no +idea how deceitful he is.’</p> + +<p>Michel opened the window with every possible precaution. +From where I stood, I could distinctly see the +poultry-yard, and Pritchard lying in his couch, his head +innocently resting upon his two fore-paws. At the slight +noise which Michel made in opening the window, Pritchard +pricked up his ears and half opened his yellow eye, +but as the sound was not repeated he did not move. Ten +minutes afterwards we heard the newly wakened hens +begin to cluck. Pritchard immediately opened both eyes, +stretched himself and stood upright upon his three feet. +He then cast a glance all round him, and seeing that all +was quiet, disappeared into a shed, and the next moment +we saw him coming out of a sort of little window on the +other side. From this window Pritchard easily got upon +the sloping roof which overhung one side of the poultry-yard. +He had now only to jump down about six feet, +and having got into the inclosure he lay down flat in front +of the hen-house, giving a little friendly bark. A hen +looked out at Pritchard’s call, and instead of seeming +frightened she went to him at once and received his compliments +with apparent complacency. Nor did she seem +at all embarrassed, but proceeded to lay her egg, and that +within such easy reach of Pritchard that we had not time +to see the egg—it was swallowed the same instant. She +then retired cackling triumphantly, and her place was +taken by another hen.</p> + +<p>‘Well, now, sir,’ said Michel, when Pritchard had +swallowed his fourth egg, ‘you see it is no wonder that +Pritchard has such a clear voice. You know great singers +always eat raw eggs the first thing in the morning.’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>142]</a></span> +‘I know that, Michel, but what I don’t know is how +Pritchard proposes to get out of the poultry-yard.’</p> + +<p>‘Just wait and see what the scoundrel will do.’</p> + +<p>Pritchard having finished his breakfast, or being a +little alarmed at some noise in the house, stood up on his +hind leg, and slipping one of his fore-paws through the +bars of the gate, he lifted the latch and went out.</p> + +<p>‘And when one thinks,’ said Michel, ‘that if anybody +asked him why the yard door was left open, he would say +it was because Pierre had forgotten to shut it last night!’</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 397px;"> +<a name="illo27" id="illo27"></a> +<img src="images/asb28.jpg" width="397" height="215" +alt="Pritchard investigates an egg" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">PRITCHARD AND THE HENS</p> + +<p>‘You think he would have the wickedness to say <em>that</em>, +Michel?’</p> + +<p>‘Perhaps not to-day, nor yet to-morrow, because he is +not come to his full growth, but some day, mind you, I +should not be surprised to hear him speak.’</p> + + +<h3>VIII</h3> + +<p>Before going out to shoot that day, I thought it only +right to give M. Charpillon an account of Pritchard’s +proceedings. He regarded him, therefore with mingled +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>143]</a></span> +feelings, in which admiration was more prominent than +sympathy, and it was agreed that on our return the dog +should be shut up in the stable, and that the stable-door +should be bolted and padlocked. Pritchard, unsuspicious +of our designs, ran on in front with a proud step and with +his tail in the air.</p> + +<p>‘You know,’ said Charpillon, ‘that neither men nor +dogs are allowed to go into the vineyards. I ought as +a magistrate to set an example, and Gaignez still more, +as he is the mayor. So mind you keep in Pritchard.’</p> + +<p>‘All right,’ said I, ‘I will keep him in.’</p> + +<p>But Michel, approaching, suggested that I should send +Pritchard home with him. ‘It would be safer,’ he said. +‘We are quite near the house, and I have a notion that +he might get us into some scrape by hunting in the vineyards.’</p> + +<p>‘Don’t be afraid, Michel; I have thought of a plan to +prevent him.’</p> + +<p>Michel touched his hat. ‘I know you are clever, +sir—very clever; but I don’t think you are as clever as +that!’</p> + +<p>‘Wait till you see.’</p> + +<p>‘Indeed, sir, you will have to be quick, for there is +Pritchard hunting already.’</p> + +<p>We were just in time to see Pritchard disappear into +a vineyard, and a moment afterwards he raised a covey +of partridges.</p> + +<p>‘Call in your dog,’ cried Gaignez.</p> + +<p>I called Pritchard, who, however, turned a deaf ear.</p> + +<p>‘Catch him,’ said I to Michel.</p> + +<p>Michel went, and returned in a few minutes with +Pritchard in a leash. In the meantime I had found a +long stake, which I hung crosswise round his neck, and +let him go loose with this ornament. Pritchard understood +that he could no longer go through the vineyards, +but the stake did not prevent his hunting, and he only +went a good deal further off on the open ground.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>144]</a></span> +From this moment there was only one shout all along +the line.</p> + +<p>‘Hold in your dog, confound him!’</p> + +<p>‘Keep in your Pritchard, can’t you! He’s sending all +the birds out of shot!’</p> + +<p>‘Look here! Would you mind my putting a few pellets +into your brute of a dog? How can anybody shoot if he +won’t keep in?’</p> + +<p>‘Michel,’ said I, ‘catch Pritchard again.’</p> + +<p>‘I told you so, sir. Luckily we are not far from the +house; I can still take him back.’</p> + +<p>‘Not at all. I have a second idea. Catch Pritchard.’</p> + +<p>‘After all,’ said Michel, ‘this is nearly as good fun as if +we were shooting.’</p> + +<p>And by-and-bye he came back, dragging Pritchard by +his stake. Pritchard had a partridge in his mouth.</p> + +<p>‘Look at him, the thief!’ said Michel. ‘He has +carried off M. Gaignez’s partridge—I see him looking +for it.’</p> + +<p>‘Put the partridge in your game-bag, Michel; we will +give him a surprise.’</p> + +<p>Michel hesitated. ‘But,’ said he, ‘think of the opinion +this rascal will have of you!’</p> + +<p>‘What, Michel? do you think Pritchard has a bad +opinion of me?’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, sir! a shocking opinion.’</p> + +<p>‘But what makes you think so?’</p> + +<p>‘Why, sir, do you not think that Pritchard knows in +his soul and conscience that when he brings you a bird +that another gentleman has shot, he is committing a +theft?’</p> + +<p>‘I think he has an idea of it, certainly, Michel.’</p> + +<p>‘Well, then, sir, if he knows he is a thief, he must take +you for a receiver of stolen goods. Look at the articles +of the Code; it is said there that receivers are equally +guilty with thieves, and should be similarly punished.’</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="illo28" id="illo28"></a> +<img src="images/asb29.jpg" width="600" height="375" +alt="Pritchard brings the stolen hare to his master" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">‘PRITCHARD REAPPEARED NEXT MOMENT WITH A HARE IN HIS MOUTH’</p> + +<p>‘Michel, you open my eyes to a whole vista of terrors. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145"><!-- original location of Hare illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>147]</a></span> +But we are going to try to cure Pritchard of hunting. +When he is cured of hunting, he will be cured of +stealing.’</p> + +<p>‘Never, sir! You will never cure Pritchard of his vices.’</p> + +<p>Still I pursued my plan, which was to put Pritchard’s +fore-leg through his collar. By this means, his right fore-foot +being fastened to his neck, and his left hind-foot +being cut off, he had only two to run with, the left fore-foot +and the right hind-foot.</p> + +<p>‘Well, indeed,’ said Michel, ‘if he can hunt now, the +devil is in it.’</p> + +<p>He loosed Pritchard, who stood for a moment as if +astonished, but once he had balanced himself he began to +walk, then to trot; then, as he found his balance better, +he succeeded in running quicker on his two legs than +many dogs would have done on four.</p> + +<p>‘Where are we now, sir?’ said Michel.</p> + +<p>‘It’s that beast of a stake that balances him!’ I +replied, a little disappointed. ‘We ought to teach him to +dance upon the tight-rope—he would make our fortunes +as an acrobat.’</p> + +<p>‘You are joking again, sir. But listen! do you hear +that?’</p> + +<p>The most terrible imprecations against Pritchard were +resounding on all sides. The imprecations were followed +by a shot, then by a howl of pain.</p> + +<p>‘That is Pritchard’s voice,’ said Michel. ‘Well, it is +no more than he deserves.’</p> + +<p>Pritchard reappeared the next moment with a hare in +his mouth.</p> + +<p>‘Michel, you said that was Pritchard that howled.’</p> + +<p>‘I would swear to it, sir.’</p> + +<p>‘But how could he howl with a hare in his mouth?’</p> + +<p>Michel scratched his head. ‘It was he all the same,’ +he said, and he went to look at Pritchard.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, sir!’ he said, ‘I was right. The gentleman he +took the hare from has shot him. His hind-leg is all over +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>148]</a></span> +blood. Look! there is M. Charpillon running after his +hare.’</p> + +<p>‘You know that I have just put some pellets into your +Pritchard?’ Charpillon called out as soon as he saw me.</p> + +<p>‘You did quite right.’</p> + +<p>‘He carried off my hare.’</p> + +<p>‘There! You see,’ said Michel, ‘it is impossible to +cure him.’</p> + +<p>‘But when he carried away your hare, he must have +had it in his mouth?’</p> + +<p>‘Of course. Where else would he have it?’</p> + +<p>‘But how could he howl with a hare in his mouth?’</p> + +<p>‘He put it down to howl, then he took it up again and +made off.’</p> + +<p>‘There’s deceit for you, gentlemen!’ exclaimed +Michel.</p> + +<p>Pritchard succeeded in bringing the hare to me, but +when he reached me he had to lie down.</p> + +<p>‘I say,’ said Charpillon, ‘I hope I haven’t hurt him +more than I intended—it was a long shot.’ And forgetting +his hare, Charpillon knelt down to examine Pritchard’s +wound. It was a serious one; Pritchard had received +five or six pellets about the region of his tail, and was +bleeding profusely.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, poor beast!’ cried Charpillon. ‘I wouldn’t +have fired that shot for all the hares in creation if I had +known.’</p> + +<p>‘Bah!’ said Michel; ‘he won’t die of it.’ And, in +fact, Pritchard, after spending three weeks with the +vet. at St.-Germains, returned to Monte Cristo perfectly +cured, and with his tail in the air once more.</p> + + +<h3>IX</h3> + +<p>Soon after the disastrous event which I have just +related the revolution of 1848 occurred in France, in +which King Louis Philippe was dethroned and a republic +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>149]</a></span> +established. You will ask what the change of government +had to do with my beasts? Well, although, happily, +they do not trouble their heads about politics, the revolution +did affect them a good deal; for the French public, +being excited by these occurrences, would not buy my +books, preferring to read the ‘Guillotine,’ the ‘Red +Republic,’ and such like corrupt periodicals; so that I +became for the time a very much poorer man. I was +obliged greatly to reduce my establishment. I sold my +three horses and two carriages for a quarter of their +value, and I presented the Last of the Laidmanoirs, Potich, +and Mademoiselle Desgarcins to the Jardin des Plantes +in Paris. I had to move into a smaller house, but my +monkeys were lodged in a palace; this is a sort of thing +that sometimes happens after a revolution. Mysouff also +profited by it, for he regained his liberty on the departure +of the monkeys.</p> + +<p>As to Diogenes, the vulture, I gave him to my worthy +neighbour Collinet, who keeps the restaurant Henri IV., +and makes such good cutlets à la Béarnaise. There was +no fear of Diogenes dying of hunger under his new master’s +care; on the contrary, he improved greatly in health and +beauty, and, doubtless as a token of gratitude to Collinet, +he laid an egg for him every year, a thing he never +dreamt of doing for me. Lastly, we requested Pritchard +to cease to keep open house, and to discontinue his daily +invitations to strange dogs to dine and sleep. I was +obliged to give up all thoughts of shooting that year. It +is true that Pritchard still remained to me, but then +Pritchard, you must recollect, had only three feet; he had +been badly hurt when he was shot by Charpillon, and the +revolution of February had occasioned the loss of one +eye.</p> + +<p>It happened one day during that exciting period, that +Michel was so anxious to see what was going on that he +forgot to give Pritchard his dinner. Pritchard therefore +invited himself to dine with the vulture, but Diogenes, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>150]</a></span> +being of a less sociable turn, and not in a humour to be +trifled with, dealt poor Pritchard such a blow with his +beak as to deprive him of one of his mustard-coloured +eyes. Pritchard’s courage was unabated; he might be +compared to that brave field marshal of whom it was +said that Mars had left nothing of him whole except +his heart. But it was difficult, you see, to make much +use of a dog with so many infirmities. If I had wished +to sell him I could not have found a purchaser, nor +would he have been considered a handsome present had +I desired to give him away. I had no choice, then, but +to make this old servant, badly as he had sometimes +served me, a pensioner, a companion, in fact a friend. +Some people told me that I might have tied a stone +round his neck and flung him into the river; others, that +it was easy enough to replace him by buying a good +retriever from Vatrin; but although I was not yet poor +enough to drown Pritchard, neither was I rich enough to +buy another dog. However, later in that very year, I +made an unexpected success in literature, and one of +my plays brought me in a sufficient sum to take a shooting +in the department of Yonne. I went to look at this +shooting, taking Pritchard with me. In the meantime +my daughter wrote to tell me that she had bought an +excellent retriever for five pounds, named Catinat, and +that she was keeping him in the stable until my return. +As soon as I arrived, my first care was to make Catinat’s +acquaintance. He was a rough, vigorous dog of three or +four years old, thoughtless, violent, and quarrelsome. He +jumped upon me till he nearly knocked me down, upset +my daughter’s work-table, and dashed about the room to +the great danger of my china vases and ornaments. I +therefore called Michel and informed him that the superficial +acquaintance which I had made with Catinat would +suffice for the time, and that I would defer the pleasure +of his further intimacy until the shooting season began +at Auxerre.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>151]</a></span> +Poor Michel, as soon as he saw Catinat, had been seized +with a presentiment of evil.</p> + +<p>‘Sir,’ he said, ‘that dog will bring some misfortune +upon us. I do not know yet what, but something will +happen, I know it will!’</p> + +<p>‘In the meantime, Michel,’ I said, ‘you had better +take Catinat back to the stable.’ But Catinat had already +left the room of his own accord and rushed downstairs +to the dining-room, where I had left Pritchard. Now +Pritchard never could endure Catinat from the first moment +he saw him; the two dogs instantly flew at one +another with so much fury that Michel was obliged to +call me to his assistance before we could separate them. +Catinat was once more shut up in the stable, and Pritchard +conducted to his kennel in the stable-yard, which, +in the absence of carriages and horses, was now a poultry-yard, +inhabited by my eleven hens and my cock Cæsar. +Pritchard’s friendship with the hens continued to be as +strong as ever, and the household suffered from a scarcity +of eggs in consequence. That evening, while my daughter +and I were walking in the garden, Michel came to meet +us, twisting his straw hat between his fingers, a sure sign +that he had something important to say.</p> + +<p>‘Well, what is it, Michel?’ I asked.</p> + +<p>‘It came into my mind, sir,’ he answered, ‘while I was +taking Pritchard to his kennel, that we never have any +eggs because Pritchard eats them; and he eats them +because he is in direct communication with the hens.’</p> + +<p>‘It is evident, Michel, that if Pritchard never went into +the poultry-yard, he would not eat the eggs.’</p> + +<p>‘Then, do you not think, sir,’ continued Michel, ‘that if +we shut up Pritchard in the stable and put Catinat into +the poultry-yard, it would be better? Catinat is an animal +without education, so far as I know; but he is not +such a thief as Pritchard.’</p> + +<p>‘Do you know what will happen if you do that, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>152]</a></span> +Michel?’ I said. ‘Catinat will not eat the eggs, perhaps, +but he will eat the hens.’</p> + +<p>‘If a misfortune like that were to occur, I know a +method of curing him of eating hens.’</p> + +<p>‘Well—but in the meantime the hens would be eaten.’</p> + +<p>Scarcely had I uttered these words, when a frightful +noise was heard in the stable-yard, as loud as that of a +pack of hounds in full cry, but mingled with howls of rage +and pain which indicated a deadly combat.</p> + +<p>‘Michel!’ I cried, ‘do you hear that?’</p> + +<p>‘Oh yes, I hear it,’ he answered, ‘but those must be +the neighbours’ dogs fighting.’</p> + +<p>‘Michel, those are Catinat and Pritchard killing each +other!’</p> + +<p>‘Impossible, sir—I have separated them.’</p> + +<p>‘Well, then, they have met again.’</p> + +<p>‘It is true,’ said Michel, ‘that scoundrel Pritchard can +open the stable-door as well as any one.’</p> + +<p>‘Then, you see, Pritchard is a dog of courage; he’ll +have opened the stable-door for Catinat on purpose to +fight him. Be quick, Michel, I am really afraid one of +them will be killed.’</p> + +<p>Michel darted into the passage which led to the stable, +and no sooner had he disappeared than I knew from the +lamentations which I heard that some misfortune had +happened. In a minute or two Michel reappeared sobbing +bitterly and carrying Pritchard in his arms.</p> + +<p>‘Look, sir! just look!’ he said; ‘this is the last we +shall see of Pritchard—look what your fine sporting dog +has done to him. Catinat, indeed! it is Catilina he +should be called!’</p> + +<p>I ran up to Pritchard, full of concern—I had a great +love for him, though he had often made me angry. He +was a dog of much originality, and the unexpected things +he did were only a proof of genius.</p> + +<p>‘What do you think is the matter?’ I asked Michel.</p> + +<p>‘The matter?—the matter is that he is dead!’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>153]</a></span> +‘Oh no, surely not!’</p> + +<p>‘Anyhow, he’ll never be good for anything again.’ +And he laid him on the ground at my feet.</p> + +<p>‘Pritchard, my poor Pritchard!’ I cried.</p> + +<p>At the sound of my voice, Pritchard opened his yellow +eye and looked sorrowfully at me, then stretched out his +four legs, gave one sigh, and died. Catinat had bitten +his throat quite through, so that his death was almost +immediate.</p> + +<p>‘Well, Michel,’ said I, ‘it is not a good servant, it is +a good friend that we have lost. You must wash him +carefully—you shall have a towel to wrap him in—you +shall dig his grave in the garden and we will have a +tombstone made for him on which shall be engraved this +epitaph:</p> + +<div class="cenpoem2"> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">‘Like conquering Rantzau, of courage undaunted,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pritchard, to thee Mars honour has granted,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On each field of fight of a limb he bereft thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till nought but thy gallant heart scatheless was left thee.’<br /></span> +</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>As my habit was, I sought consolation for my grief in +literary labours. Michel endeavoured to assuage his with +the help of two bottles of red wine, with which, mingled +with his tears, he watered the grave of the departed. I +know this because when I came out early next morning +to see if my wishes with regard to Pritchard’s burial had +been carried out, I found Michel stretched upon the +ground, still in tears, and the two bottles empty by his +side.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>154]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>THE ADVENTURES OF PYRAMUS</i></h2> + + +<p>Pyramus was a large brown dog, born of a good family, +who had been given, when a mere pup, to Alexandre +Dumas, the great French novelist, then quite a young +man. Now the keeper to whom Pyramus first belonged +had also a tiny little fox-cub without any relations about +the place, so both fox-cub and dog-pup were handed over +to the same mother, who brought them up side by side, +until they were able to do for themselves. So when the +keeper made young Dumas a present of Pyramus, he +thought he had better bestow Cartouche on him as well.</p> + +<p>Of course it is hardly necessary to say that these fine +names were not invented by the keeper, who had never +heard of either Pyramus or Cartouche, but were given to +his pets by Dumas, after he had spent a little time in +observing their characters.</p> + +<p>Certainly it was a very curious study. Here were two +animals, who had never been apart since they were born, +and were now living together in two kennels side by +side in the court-yard of the house, and yet after the first +three or four months, when they were mere babies, every +day showed some difference, and soon they ceased to be +friends at all and became open enemies.</p> + +<p>The earliest fight known to have taken place between +them happened in this way. One day some bones were +thrown by accident within the bounds of Cartouche’s +territory, and though if they belonged to anybody, it was +clearly Cartouche, Pyramus resolved most unfairly to get +hold of them. The first time Pyramus tried secretly to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>155]</a></span> +commit this act of piracy, Cartouche growled; the second +time he showed his teeth; the third time he bit.</p> + +<p>It must be owned that Cartouche had shown some +excuse for his violent behaviour, because he always remained +chained up, whereas Pyramus was allowed +certain hours of liberty; and it was during one of these +that he made up his mind to steal the bones from Cartouche, +whose chain (he thought) would prevent any +attempt at reprisals. Indeed, he even tried to make out +to his conscience that probably the bones were not dainty +enough for Cartouche, who loved delicate food, whereas +anything was good enough for him, Pyramus. However, +whether he wanted to eat the bones or not, Cartouche had +no intention of letting them be stolen from him, and +having managed to drive off Pyramus on the first occasion, +he determined to get safely hold of the bones before +his enemy was unchained again.</p> + +<p>Now the chains of each were the same length, four +feet, and in addition to that, Pyramus had a bigger head +and longer nose than Cartouche, who was much smaller +altogether. So it follows that when they were both +chained up, Pyramus could stretch farther towards any +object that lay at an equal distance between their kennels. +Pyramus knew this, and so he counted on always getting +the better of Cartouche.</p> + +<p>But Cartouche had not been born a fox for nothing, +and he watched with a scornful expression the great +Pyramus straining at his chain with his eyes nearly jumping +out of his head with greed and rage. ‘Really,’ said +Cartouche to himself, ‘if he goes on like that much +longer, I shall have a mad dog for a neighbour before the +day is out. Let me see if <em>I</em> can’t manage better.’ But as +we know, being a much smaller animal than Pyramus, his +nose did not come nearly so close to the bones; and after +one or two efforts to reach the tempting morsel which +was lying about six feet from each kennel, he gave it up, +and retired to his warm bed, hoping that he might somehow +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>156]</a></span> +hit upon some idea which would enable him to reach +the ‘bones of contention.’</p> + +<p>All at once he jumped up, for after hard thought he +had got what he wanted. He trotted merrily to the +length of his chain, and now it was Pyramus’s turn to look +on and to think with satisfaction: ‘Well, if <em>I</em> can’t get +them, <em>you</em> can’t either, which is a comfort.’</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 405px;"> +<a name="illo29" id="illo29"></a> +<img src="images/asb30.jpg" width="405" height="265" +alt="Cartouche pulls the bone closer with his hind foot" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">CARTOUCHE OUTWITS PYRAMUS</p> + +<p>But gradually his grin of delight changed into a +savage snarl, as Cartouche turned himself round when he +had got to the end of his chain, and stretching out his +paw, hooked the bone which he gradually drew within +reach, and before Pyramus had recovered from his +astonishment, Cartouche had got possession of all the +bones and was cracking them with great enjoyment inside +his kennel.</p> + +<p>It may seem very unjust that Cartouche was always +kept chained up, while Pyramus was allowed to roam +about freely, but the fact was that Pyramus only ate or +stole when he was really hungry, while Cartouche was by +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>157]</a></span> +nature the murderer of everything he came across. One +day he broke his chain and ran off to the fowl-yard of +Monsieur Mauprivez, who lived next door. In less than +ten minutes he had strangled seventeen hens and two +cocks: nineteen corpses in all! It was impossible to find +any ‘extenuating circumstances’ in his favour. He was +condemned to death and promptly executed.</p> + +<p>Henceforth Pyramus reigned alone, and it is sad to +think that he seemed to enjoy it, and even that his appetite +grew bigger.</p> + +<p>It is bad enough for any dog to have an appetite like +Pyramus when he was at home, but when he was out +shooting, and should have been doing his duty as a +retriever, this fault became a positive vice. Whatever +might be the first bird shot by his master, whether it +happened to be partridge or pheasant, quail or snipe, +down it would go into Pyramus’s wide throat. It was +seldom, indeed, that his master arrived in time to see +even the last feathers.</p> + +<p>A smart blow from a whip kept him in order all the +rest of the day, and it was very rarely that he sinned +twice in this way while on the same expedition, but unluckily +before the next day’s shooting came round, he +had entirely forgotten all about his previous caning, and +justice had to be done again.</p> + +<p>On two separate occasions, however, Pyramus’s greediness +brought its own punishment. One day his master +was shooting with a friend in a place where a small +wood had been cut down early in the year, and after the +low shrubs had been sawn in pieces and bound in +bundles, the grass was left to grow into hay, and this hay +was now in process of cutting. The shooting party +reached the spot just at the time that the reapers were +having their dinner and taking their midday rest, and +one of the reapers had laid his scythe against a little +stack of wood about three feet high. At this moment +a snipe got up, and M. Dumas fired and killed it. It +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>158]</a></span> +fell on the other side of the stack of wood against which +the scythe was leaning.</p> + +<p>As it was the first bird he had killed that day, he knew +of course that it would become the prey of Pyramus, so +he did not hurry himself to go after it, but watched with +amusement, Pyramus tearing along, even jumping over +the stack in his haste.</p> + +<p>But when after giving the dog the usual time to +swallow his fat morsel, Monsieur did not see Pyramus +coming back to him as usual in leaps and bounds, he +began to wonder what could have happened, and made +hastily for the stack of wood behind which he had disappeared. +There he found the unlucky Pyramus lying on +the ground, with the point of the scythe right through his +neck. The blood was pouring from the wound, and he +lay motionless, with the snipe dead on the ground about +six inches from his nose.</p> + +<p>The two men raised him as gently as possible, and +carried him to the river, and here they bathed the wound +with water. They then folded a pocket-handkerchief into +a band, and tied it tightly round his neck to staunch the +blood, and when this was done, and they were wondering +how to get him home, a peasant fortunately passed +driving a donkey with two panniers, and he was laid +in one of the panniers and taken to the nearest village, +where he was put safely into a carriage.</p> + +<p>For eight days Pyramus lay between life and death. +For a whole month his head hung on one side, and it was +only after six weeks (which seems like six years to a dog) +that he was able to run about as usual, and appeared to +have forgotten his accident.</p> + +<p>Only, whenever he saw a scythe he made a long round +to avoid coming in contact with it.</p> + +<p>Some time afterwards he returned to the house with +his body as full of holes as a sieve. On this occasion +he was taking a walk through the forest, and, seeing a +goat feeding, jumped at its throat. The goat screamed +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>159]</a></span> +loudly, and the keeper, who was smoking at a little distance +off, ran to his help; but before he could come up +the goat was half dead. On hearing the steps of the +keeper, and on listening to his strong language, Pyramus +understood very well that this stout man dressed in blue +would have something very serious to say to him, so he +stretched his legs to their fullest extent, and started off +like an arrow from a bow. But, as Man Friday long ago +remarked, ‘My little ball of lead can run faster than thou,’ +the keeper’s little ball of lead ran faster than Pyramus, +and that is how he came home with all the holes in +his body.</p> + +<p>There is no denying that Pyramus was a very bad +dog, and as his master was fond of him, it is impossible +to believe that he can <em>always</em> have been hungry, as, for +instance, when he jumped up in a butcher’s shop to steal +a piece of meat and got the hook on which it was hung +through his own jaws, so that someone had to come and +unhook him. But hungry or not, Monsieur Dumas had +no time to be perpetually getting him out of scrapes, and +when a few months later an Englishman who wanted a +sporting dog took a fancy to Pyramus, his master was not +altogether sorry to say good-bye.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>160]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>THE STORY OF A WEASEL</i></h2> + +<p class="source">Bingley’s <i>Animal Biography</i>.</p> + + +<p>Weasels are so sharp and clever and untiring, that their +activity has been made into a proverb; and, like many +other sharp and clever creatures, they are very mischievous, +and fond of killing rabbits and chickens, and +even of sucking their eggs, which they do so carefully that +they hardly ever break one.</p> + +<p>A French lady, called Mademoiselle de Laistre, a friend +of the great naturalist, Monsieur de Buffon, once found a +weasel when he was very young indeed, and, as she was +fond of pets, she thought she would bring him up. Now +a weasel is a little creature, and very pretty. It has short +legs and a long tail, and its skin is reddish brown above +and white below. Its eyes are black and its ears are +small, and its body is about seven inches in length. But +this weasel was much smaller than that when it went to +live with Mademoiselle de Laistre.</p> + +<p>Of course it had to be taught: all young things have, +and this weasel knew nothing. The good lady first began +with pouring some milk into the hollow of her hand and +letting it drink from it. Very soon, being a weasel of +polite instincts, it would not take milk in any other way. +After its dinner, when a little fresh meat was added to the +milk, it would run to a soft quilt that was spread in its +mistress’s bedroom, and, having soon discovered that it +could get inside the quilt at a place where the stitches +had given way, it proceeded to tuck itself up comfortably +for an hour or two. This was all very well in the day, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>161]</a></span> +but Mademoiselle de Laistre did not feel at all safe in +leaving such a mischievous creature loose during the night, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>162]</a></span> +so whenever she went to bed, she shut the weasel up in +a little cage that stood close by. If she happened to wake +up early, she would unfasten the cage, and then the weasel +would come into her bed, and, nestling up to her, go to +sleep again. If she was already dressed when he was let +out, he would jump all about her, and would never once +miss alighting on her hands, even when they were held +out three feet from him.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 282px;"> +<a name="illo30" id="illo30"></a> +<img src="images/asb31.jpg" width="282" height="575" +alt="The weasel perches on Mademoiselle's shoulder" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">MADEMOISELLE DE LAISTRE AND HER WEASEL</p> + +<p>All his ways were pretty and gentle. He would sit +on his mistress’s shoulder and give little soft pats to her +chin, or would run over a whole room full of people at the +mere sound of her voice. He was very fond of the sun, +too, and would tumble about and murmur with delight +whenever it shone on him. The little weasel was rather +a thirsty animal, but he would not drink much at a time, +and, when he had once tasted milk, could not be persuaded +to touch rain-water. Baths were quite new to him, too, +and he could not make up his mind to them, even in the +heat, from which he suffered a good deal. His nearest +approach to bathing was a wet cloth wrapped round him, +and this evidently gave him great pleasure.</p> + +<p>Cats and dogs about the place condescended to make +friends with him, and they never quarrelled nor hurt each +other. Indeed, in many of their instincts and ways, +weasels are not very unlike cats, and one quality they +have in common is their curiosity. Nothing was dull or +uninteresting to this little weasel. It was impossible to +open a drawer or take out a paper without his little sharp +nose being thrust round the corner, and he would even +jump on his mistress’s hands, the better to read her letters. +He was also very fond of attracting attention, and in the +midst of his play would always stop to see if anyone was +watching. If he found that no one was troubling about +him, he would at once leave off, and, curling himself up, +go off into a sleep so sound that he might be taken up by +the head and swung backwards and forwards quite a long +time before he would wake up and be himself again.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>163]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>STORIES ABOUT WOLVES</i></h2> + + +<p>Wolves are found in the colder and more northern parts +of Asia and North America, and over the whole of Europe, +except the British Isles, where they were exterminated +long ago. Some say Lochiel killed the last wolf in Scotland, +some say a gamekeeper was the hero. The wolf +very much resembles the dog in appearance, except +that his eyes are set in obliquely, and nearer his nose. +His coat is commonly of a tawny grey colour, but sometimes +black or white, and he varies in size according +to the climate. Some wolves only measure two and a +half feet in length, not counting the tail, others are much +larger. They have remarkably keen sight, hearing, and +sense of smell, and such a stealthy gait, that their way +of slinking along has passed into a proverb in countries +where wolves are common. They live in rocky +caverns in the forest, sleep by day like other beasts of +prey, and go out at night to forage for food. They eat +small birds, reptiles, the smaller animals, such as rats and +mice, some fruits, grapes among others, and rotten apples; +they do not disdain even dead bodies, nor garbage of any +sort. But in times of famine or prolonged snow, when +all these provisions fail them, and they feel the pinch of +hunger, then woe betide the flocks of sheep or the human +beings they may encounter. In 1450 wolves actually +came into Paris and attacked the citizens. Even so lately +as the long and severe winter of 1894-5, the wolves came +down into the plains of Piedmont and the lower Alpes +Maritimes in such numbers that the soldiery had to be +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>164]</a></span> +called out to destroy them. In such times a wolf in +broad daylight will steal up to a flock of sheep peacefully +feeding, seize on a fine fat one, and make away with it, +unseen and unsuspected even by the watchful sheep dog. +Should a first attempt prove successful, he will return +again and again, till, finding he can no longer rob that +flock unmolested, he will look out for another one still unsuspicious. +If he once gets inside a sheep-fold at night, +he massacres and mangles right and left. When he has +slain to his heart’s content, he goes off with a victim +and devours it, then comes back for a second, a third, and +a fourth carcase, which he carries away to hide under a +heap of branches or dead leaves. When dawn breaks, +he returns gorged with food to his lair, leaving the +ground strewn with the bodies of the slain. The wolf +even contrives to get the better of his natural enemy, +the dog, using stratagem and cleverness in the place of +strength. If he spies a gawky long-legged puppy swaggering +about his own farmyard, he will come closer and +entice him out to play by means of every sort of caper and +gambol. When the young simpleton has been induced +to come out beyond the farmyard, the wolf, throwing off +his disguise of amiable playfulness, falls upon the dog and +carries him away to make a meal of. In the case of a +dog stronger and more capable of making resistance the +stratagem requires two wolves; one appears to the dog in +its true character of wolf, and then disappears into an +ambush, where the other lies hidden. The dog, following +its natural instinct, pursues the wolf into the ambush, +where the two conspirators soon make an end of it.</p> + +<p>So numerous have wolves always been in the rural +districts of France, that from the earliest times there has +been an institution called the <i>Louveterie</i>, for their extermination. +Since the French Revolution this has been +very much modified, but there is still a reward of so much +per head for every wolf killed. Under ordinary circumstances +the wolf will not only not attack man, but will +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>165]</a></span> +flee from him, for he is as cowardly as he is crafty. But if +driven by hunger he will pursue, or rather he will follow +a solitary traveller for miles, dogging his footsteps, and +always keeping near, sometimes on one side, sometimes +on the other, till the man, harassed and worn out by +fatigue and fright, is compelled to halt; then the wolf, +who had been waiting for this opportunity, springs on him +and devours him.</p> + +<p>Audubon, in his ‘Quadrupeds of America,’ tells a story +of two young negroes who lived on a plantation on the +banks of the Ohio in the State of Kentucky, about the year +1820. They each had a sweetheart, whom they used to go +to visit every evening after their work was done. These +negresses lived on another plantation about four miles +away, but a short cut led across a large cane brake. +When winter set in with its long dark nights no ray of +light illuminated this dismal swamp. But the negroes +continued their nightly expeditions notwithstanding, arming +themselves by way of precaution with their axes. +One dark night they set off over a thin crust of snow, the +reflection from which afforded all the light they had to +guide them on their way. Hardly a star appeared through +the dense masses of cloud that nearly covered the sky, +and menaced more snow. About half way to their destination +the negroes’ blood froze at the sound of a long and +fearful howl that rent the air; they knew it could only +come from a pack of hungry and perhaps desperate +wolves. They paused to listen, and only a dismal silence +succeeded. In the impenetrable darkness nothing was +visible a few feet beyond them; grasping their axes they +went on their way though with quaking hearts. Suddenly, +in single file, out of the darkness sprang several wolves, +who seized on the first man, inflicting terrible wounds +with their fangs on his legs and arms; others as ravenous +leapt on his companion, and dragged him to the ground. +Both negroes fought manfully, but soon one had ceased to +move, and the other, despairing of aiding his companion, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>166]</a></span> +threw down his axe and sprang on to the branch of a tree, +where he found safety and shelter for the rest of that +miserable night. When day broke, only the bones of his +friend lay scattered on the blood-stained, trampled snow; +three dead wolves lay near, but the rest of the pack had +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>167]</a></span> +betaken themselves to their lair, to sleep away the effects +of their night’s gorge.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 375px;"> +<a name="illo31" id="illo31"></a> +<img src="images/asb32.jpg" width="375" height="510" +alt="The man finds the remains of his friend and three dead wolves" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">‘WHEN DAY BROKE’</p> + +<p>A sledge journey through the plains of Siberia in +winter is a perilous undertaking. If a pack of hungry +wolves get on the track of a sledge, the travellers know, +as soon as they hear the horrid howls and see the grey +forms stealing swiftly across the snow, that their chances +of escape are small. If the sledge stops one instant men +and horses are lost; the only safety is in flight at utmost +speed. It is indeed a race for life! The horses, mad with +terror, seem to have wings; the wolves, no less swift, +pursue them, their cruel eyes gleaming with the lust for +blood. From time to time a shot is fired, and a wolf falls +dead in the snow; bolder than the others, he has tried to +climb into the sledge and has met his reward. This incident +gives a momentary respite to the pursued, for the +murderous pack will pause to tear in pieces and devour +their dead comrade; then, further inflamed with the taste +of blood, they will continue the headlong pursuit with +redoubled vigour.</p> + +<p>Should the travellers be able to reach a village or +friendly farmhouse before the horses are completely exhausted, +the wolves, frightened by the lights, will slink +away into the forest, balked this time of their prey. On +the other hand, should no refuge be near, the wolves will +keep up with the horses till the poor beasts stumble and +fall from fatigue, when the whole pack will instantly +spring upon men and horses, and in a few moments the +blood-stained snow alone tells the tale.</p> + +<p>There have been instances, but fortunately few, of +wolves with a perfect craving for human flesh. Such +was the notorious Bête (or beast) du Gévaudan, that from +the year 1764 and onwards ravaged the district of that +name, in Auvergne, to the south of the centre of France. +This wolf was of enormous size, measuring six feet from +the point of its nose to the tip of its tail. It devoured +eighty-three persons, principally women and children, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>168]</a></span> +seriously wounded twenty-five or thirty others. It was +attacked from first to last by between <em>two and three +hundred thousand</em> hunters, probably not all at once. With +half a dozen wolves, each equal to 200,000 men, a country +could afford to do without an army. But the wolf of +Gévaudan was no common wolf. He never married, +having no leisure, fortunately for the human race. The +whole of France was in a state of alarm on its account; +the peasants dared no longer go to their work in the fields +alone and unarmed. Every day brought tidings of some +fresh trouble; in the morning he would spread terror and +confusion in some village in the plains, in the evening +he would carry off some hapless victim from some mountain +hamlet fifteen or twenty leagues away. Five little +shepherd boys, feeding their flocks on the mountain-side, +were attacked suddenly by the ferocious beast, who made +off with the youngest of them; the others, armed only with +sticks, pursued the wolf, and attacked it so valiantly that +they compelled it to drop its prey and slink off into the +wood. A poor woman was sitting at her cottage door +with her three children, when the wolf came down on +them and attempted to carry off each of the children in +turn. The mother fought so courageously in defence of +her little ones that she succeeded in putting the wolf to +flight, but in so doing was terribly bitten herself, and the +youngest child died of his wounds.</p> + +<p>Sometimes twenty or thirty parishes joined forces to +attack the beast, led by the most experienced huntsmen +and the chief <i>louvetier</i> of the kingdom. On one occasion +twenty thousand hunters surrounded the forest of Preinières, +where it lay concealed; but on this, as well as every +other occasion, the wolf escaped in the most surprising—one +might almost say miraculous—manner, disappearing +as if he had been turned into smoke. Some hunters declared +that their bullets had rebounded off him, flattened +and harmless. Others alleged that when he had been +shot, like the great Dundee, with a silver bullet (a well-known +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>169]</a></span> +charm against sorcery) at such close quarters that +it appeared impossible he should not be mortally wounded, +in a day or two some fresh horror would announce that +the creature was still uninjured. The very dogs refused +at length to go after him, and fled howling in the opposite +direction. The belief became general that it was no +ordinary wolf of flesh and blood, but the Fiend himself +in beast shape. Prayers were put up in the churches, +processions took place, and the Host remained exhibited +as in the times of plague and public calamity.</p> + +<p>The State offered a reward of 2,000 francs to whosoever +should slay the monster; the syndics of two neighbouring +towns added 500 francs, making a total of 100<i>l.</i> +English money, a large sum in those days. The +young Countess de Mercoire, an orphan, and châtelaine +of one of the finest estates of the district, offered her +hand and fortune in marriage to whoever should rid the +country of the scourge. This inspired the young Count +Léonce de Varinas, who, though no sportsman by nature, +was so deeply in love with the Countess that he +determined to gain the reward or perish in the attempt. +Assisted by a small band of well-trained hunters, and +by two formidable dogs, a bloodhound and a mastiff, +he began a systematic attack on the wolf. After many +fruitless attempts they succeeded one day in driving the +creature into an abandoned quarry of vast size, the sides +of which were twenty or thirty feet high and quite precipitous, +and the only entrance a narrow cart track blasted +out of the rock. The young Count, determined to do or +die alone, sternly refused to allow his men to accompany +him into the quarry, and left them posted at the entrance +with orders only to fire on the beast should it attempt to +force its way out. Taking only the dogs with him, and +having carefully seen to the state of his weapons, he went +bravely to the encounter. The narrow defile was so completely +hemmed in on every side that, to the vanquished, +there was no escape nor alternative but death. Here and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>170]</a></span> +there, on patches of half-melted snow, were footprints, +evidently recent, of the huge beast; but the creature remained +invisible, and for nearly ten minutes the Count +had wandered among the rocks and bushes before the +dogs began to give sign of the enemy’s presence.</p> + +<p>About a hundred yards from where he stood was a +frozen pool, on the edge of which grew a clump of bulrushes. +Among their dry and yellow stalks Léonce suddenly +caught a glimpse of a pair of fiery eyes—nothing +more; but it was enough to let him know that the longed-for +moment had at length arrived. Léonce advanced +cautiously, his gun cocked and ready to fire, and the dogs +close at his heels, growling with rage and fear. Still the +wolf did not stir, and Léonce, determining to try other +tactics, stopped, raised his gun to his shoulder, and aimed +between the gleaming eyes, nothing more being yet visible. +Before he could fire the beast dashed from among +the crackling reeds and sprang straight at him. Léonce, +nothing daunted, waited till it was within ten paces and +then fired. With a howl of anguish the wolf fell as if +dead. Before Léonce had time to utter a shout of joy, it +was on its feet again. Streaming with blood and terrible +in its rage it fell on the young man. He attempted to +defend himself with his bayonet, which, though of tempered +steel, was broken as if it had been glass; his gun, too, +was bent, and he himself was hurled to the ground. But +for his faithful dogs it would soon have been all over with +him. They flew at the wolf’s throat, who quickly made +an end of the bloodhound; one crunch broke his back, +while one stroke of the ruthless paw disembowelled him. +Castor, the mastiff, had, however, the wolf by the throat, +and a fearful struggle ensued over the prostrate body of +Léonce. They bit, they tore, they worried, they rolled +over and over each other, the wolf, in spite of its wounds, +having always the advantage. Half stunned by the fall, +suffocated by the weight of the combatants, and blinded +by the dust and snow they scattered in the fray, Léonce +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171"><!-- original location of Wolf illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>173]</a></span> +had just sufficient strength to make one last effort in self-defence. +Drawing his hunting-knife, he plunged it to the +hilt in the shaggy mass above him. From a distance he +seemed to hear shouts of ‘Courage, Monsieur! Courage, +Castor! We are coming!’ then conscious only of an +overwhelming weight above him, and of iron claws tearing +at his chest, he fainted away. When he came to +himself he was lying on the ground, surrounded by his +men. Starting up, he exclaimed, ‘The beast! where is +the beast?’</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 382px;"> +<a name="illo32" id="illo32"></a> +<img src="images/asb33.jpg" width="382" height="600" +alt="Léonce and Castor struggle with the wolf" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE DEATH OF THE FAMOUS WOLF OF GÉVAUDAN</p> + +<p>‘Dead, Monsieur! stone dead!’ answered the head-keeper, +showing him the horrid creature, all torn and +bloody, stretched out on the snow beside the dead bloodhound. +Castor, a little way off, lay panting and bruised, +licking his wound. The Count’s knife was firmly embedded +in the beast’s ribs; it had gone straight to the +heart and death had been instantaneous. A procession +was formed to carry the carcase of the wolf in triumph to +the castle of the Countess. The news had flown in advance, +and she was waiting on the steps to welcome the conquering +hero. It was not long before the Countess and +the gallant champion were married; and, as the wolf left +no family, the country was at peace. Are you not rather +sorry for the poor wolf?</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>174]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>TWO HIGHLAND DOGS</i></h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>Righ and Speireag were two Highland dogs who lived in +a beautiful valley not far from the west coast of Scotland, +where high hills slope down to the shores of a blue loch, +and the people talk a strange language quite different +from English, or even from French, or German, or Latin, +which is called Gaelic.</p> + +<p>The name ‘Righ,’ means a king, and ‘Speireag’ +means a sparrow-hawk, but they are words no one, except +a Highlander, can pronounce properly. However, the +dogs had a great many friends who could not talk Gaelic, +and when English-speaking people called them ‘Ree’ and +‘Spearah,’ they would always answer.</p> + +<p>Righ was a great tawny deerhound, tall and slender, +very stately, as a king should be, and as gentle as he was +strong. He had a rough coat and soft brown eyes, set +rather near together, and very bright and watchful. His +chief business in life was to watch the faces of his friends, +and to obey their wishes quickly, to take his long limbs +away from the drawing-room hearth-rug when the butler +came in to put on the coals, not to get in the way more +than so big a dog could help, and not to get too much +excited when anything in the conversation suggested the +likelihood of a walk. But his father and all his ancestors +had led very different lives; they had been trained to go +out on the mountains with men who hunted the wild +deer, and to help them in the chase, for the deerhounds +run with long bounds and are as fleet as the stag himself. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>175]</a></span> +Then, when the beautiful creature had been killed, it was +their duty to guard the body, and to see that carrion +crows, and eagles, and other wild birds should not molest +it. But Righ’s master was a Bishop, who, though he lived +quite near to a great deer forest, and often took his dogs +over the hills to where the deer lived, never killed anything, +but loved to see all his fellow-creatures happy +among the things they liked best.</p> + +<p>Speireag was a very little dog, of the kind that is called +a Skye terrier, though the island of Skye is one of the +few places in which a long-haired terrier is very rare. +He was quite small, what his Highland friends called ‘a +wee bit doggie;’ he was very full of life and courage, +wonderfully plucky for his size, like the fierce little bird +whose name he bore. Like a good many little people he +lacked the dignity and repose of his big companion, and, +though very good-tempered among his friends, was quite +ready to bite if beaten, and did not take a scolding with +half the gentleness and humility with which Righ would +submit to punishment, perhaps because he needed it +oftener, for he was so busy and active that he sometimes +got into scrapes. He was only three years old at the +time of this story and Righ was seven, so it was perhaps +natural that Righ should be the wiser of the two.</p> + +<p>They lived in a beautiful house quite near the loch, +and they had a large garden to play in, and they could +go in and out of the house and do just as they liked so +long as they came when they were called and did as they +were bid, and did not climb on the sofa cushions when +their feet were muddy. There were very few houses on +their side the water, and as their friends went about in +boats as often as other people go out in carriages, the dogs +were used to the water, and could swim as easily as +walk, and what is more, knew how to sit still in a boat, +so that they were allowed to go everywhere with their +friends because they gave no trouble.</p> + +<p>They had a very happy life, for there was always +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>176]</a></span> +something going on, which is what dogs like, and plenty +of people to go walks with. Their young masters sometimes +went out with guns, and a dog, a country dog, loves +a gun better than anything in the world, because he +knows it means business in which he can help. Sometimes +their mistress took them for a walk, and then they +knew that they must be on their best behaviour, and not +wander too far away from the road and have to be +whistled back, and not fight with the collies at the cottage +doors, nor chase cats, nor be tiresome in any way; they +generally kept close beside her, Righ walking very slowly +so as to accommodate his big strides to the progress of a +poor human thing with only two legs, and Speireag trotting +along with tiny little footsteps that seemed to make +a great fuss and to be in a great hurry about nothing at all.</p> + +<p>There was nothing, however, so delightful as going for +walks with their own master, the Bishop. For one thing, +they generally knew he really meant to do something +worth while. Pottering about with a gun or escorting a +lady is pleasant enough, but it generally means coming +home to lunch or tea, and the real joy of a dog’s walk is +to feel that you are getting further and further away from +home, and that there are miles of heather and pine-wood +behind you, and yet you are still going on and on, with +chances of more hares and more squirrels to run after. +Sometimes the Bishop would stop at a shepherd’s hut or +a lonely cottage under the lee of a hill, and sometimes he +would sit down to examine a flower he had gathered in +the wood, but they forgave him very good-temperedly, and +could always find something to interest them while they +waited.</p> + +<p>Righ generally sat down beside his master and +stretched out his great limbs on the heather, for he liked +to think he was taking care of somebody or something. +Speireag would lie down for a minute, panting, with his +little red tongue hanging out and his hairy little paws all +wet and muddy; but he never rested for long, but would +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>177]</a></span> +dart off, pretending to have found a rat or a squirrel, even +if none really existed.</p> + +<p>It was in December, 1887, the weather was raw and +cold, there was ice floating about on the loch, and the sea +gulls used to come up to the garden terrace to be fed. +The young masters were away, and mistress could only +take walks along the road, there was nothing to tempt her +to a mountain scramble or a saunter in the woods. The +Bishop was very busy, and day after day the dogs would +start up from the rug at the sound of the opening of his +study door upstairs, and after a minute’s anxious listening, +with ears cocked and heads erect, they would lie +down again with a sigh of disappointment, for there was +no sound of approach to the hat-stand nor of whistled +invitation for a walk.</p> + +<p>Finally came a sad day when the Bishop went away, +and dog-life threatened to become monotonous. Then, +one Saturday, hope revived, for a visitor came to the house, +an old friend whom they loved and trusted as a good dog +always loves what is trustworthy. He was a frequent +visitor, and had, in fact, left the house but three weeks +before. He was there for a holiday rest, and had leisure +to bestow on dogs and on long walks, which they always +shared.</p> + +<p>He was very thoughtful for them, not the sort of man +who would set off on a whole afternoon’s ramble and say, +when half a mile on his way, ‘I wish I’d remembered +Righ and Speireag!’ He always remembered them, and +thought for them; and when he fed them after dinner, +would always give big bits of biscuit to the big dog, and +little bits to the little dog, and it is not every one who has +the sense for that!</p> + +<p>Every day, and often twice a day, he took them out, +down to the church or the pier, or across the lake and up +to the Pass of Glencoe, where stern grey hills and hovering +eagles and a deep silent valley still seem to whisper +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>178]</a></span> +together of a sad true story that happened there in just +such weather as this two hundred years ago.</p> + +<p>These were very happy days for dogs, for they did not +mind the cold, it was only an excuse for wild scampering +and racing, and they were very grateful for their friend’s +return. He had been ill, but was able to enjoy his walks +and though about sixty years of age he had all those +qualities of youth which endear a man to a dog or a child. +He was brave and unselfish, and strong to love and to +endure, and they loved him without knowing why; without +knowing that he had lost his health from overwork in +the service of the poor and suffering, and among outcasts +so low as to be beyond the sympathy of any heart less +loving than that of a dog or of a very good man. ‘Father’ +Mackonochie he was always called, and though he had +never had wife or children of his own, many a fatherless +child, and many a lonely grown-up man or woman, felt +that it was quite easy and natural to call him by a name +so sacred.</p> + +<p>On the Wednesday after he came, he took Righ and +Speireag for a glorious walk through the shrubberies and +out through a gate on to the road at the foot of the hills +behind, a road that winds on and on for many miles, the +mountains rising steeply above, the lake being cold and +grey below; the bank, that slopes away from the road to +the water, in places covered with gorse and low bushes +and heather, where an enterprising dog may hunt for rats +and rabbits, or rush headlong after a pee-wit or moor-fowl +as it rises with a scream at his approach and flutters off +high into the air, and then descending to within a few +feet of him, skims low before him, hopelessly far, yet +tantalisingly near.</p> + +<p>The way was familiar to them by land or by water. +Often had they sailed up the loch in the same direction, +further and further into the heart of the mountains, the +valley becoming more and more narrow, the shores of +the lake nearer and nearer to each other, till, had they +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>179]</a></span> +gone far enough, they would have reached the Dog’s Ferry, +a spot where the water is so narrow that a dog may easily +swim across. Righ, strong swimmer that he was, had +often crossed the loch near his master’s house, where the +ferry boats ply, and needed no Dog’s Ferry, but few dogs +made such powerful strokes in the water as he.</p> + +<p>This day, however, they did not reach the Dog’s +Ferry. The afternoon was closing in, there were streaks +of gold in the dull grey sky, and it was, the good Father +thought, time to return. ‘Never mind, little man,’ he +said as Speireag looked reproachfully at him with wistful +brown eyes gleaming through overhanging silvery locks, +‘we’ll do it to-morrow, only we must set off earlier.’</p> + +<p>This was good news, and the little dog started home +gaily, running, as little dogs will, ten miles, at least, to +every one of the road, and tired enough when home was +reached at last. Dinner was a welcome feast, and Righ +and Speireag slept sound till it was time for evening +service. They always attended chapel night and morning, +and took their places at the foot of the steps, half-way, +when both were present, between mistress in her +seat and master at the place of his sacred office. To-night, +as usual, they remained perfectly quiet and apparently +indifferent to what was going on till, at the words +‘Lighten our darkness,’ bed-time came into immediate +prospect, and they started into expectant attitudes, awaiting +the final ‘Amen.’</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>The next morning, though cold, was fine and fairly bright, +and the dogs watched eagerly for signs of the promised +walk. The service in chapel was rather long this morning, +for, as it was Advent, the ‘Benedicite’ was read, and +though Righ and Speireag noticed only that they had +time for a longer nap than usual, there were some present +who will never forget, as the season comes round again +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>180]</a></span> +each year, the special significance of part of that song of +praise—</p> + +<div class="cenpoem3"> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O ye frost and cold—O ye ice and snow—O ye nights and days<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O ye light and darkness, O ye mountains and hills,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O ye beasts and cattle, O ye holy and humble men of heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bless ye the Lord, praise Him and magnify Him for ever!<br /></span> +</div> +</div> +</div> + +<p>But at last the service was over and the dogs trotted out +into the hall, and followed mistress and their friend to the +front door to see ‘what the weather was like.’ It was not +a specially pleasant morning, but it would do for a walk, +and after waiting a few minutes to have some sandwiches +cut, the only detention that could be endured with +patience, the three set out. After about six miles they +were on new ground, but on they went, the lake to the +right of the road getting narrower—on past the Dog’s +Ferry and still on, till the loch had become a river, and +could be crossed by a bridge.</p> + +<p>Righ and Speireag knew, by a more certain method +than looking at clocks, that it was lunch time, half past +one at least, and they never thought of doubting that they +would cross the bridge and turn homewards along the +other side the loch, and so get in about tea-time; or, +for their friend was enterprising, by a longer way also on +the further side, either of which would involve a delightful +long walk, but with just that hint of a homeward turn +which, even to dogs, is acceptable when breakfast has +become a mere memory.</p> + +<p>They accordingly followed the road on to the bridge, +but as Father Mackonochie did not overtake them, Righ, +ever watchful of his friends, turned to look back and saw +him speaking to a girl, after which, to their surprise, he +whistled them back, and instead of continuing along the +road as it turned off to the right, kept straight on, though +there was now only a rough track leading through a gate +into the wood beyond.</p> + +<p>When they had advanced a few paces into the wood, he +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>181]</a></span> +sat down under a tree and took out his packet of sandwiches. +Righ and Speireag, sitting close beside him, had +their share, or perhaps more, for their wistful brown eyes +hungrily reminded him that they had multiplied the +distance many times over, and that an unexpected +luncheon out of doors is a joy in a dog’s day, of a kind +for which a man may well sacrifice a part of his minor +pleasure.</p> + +<p>Starting off again was a fresh delight. On they went, +further and further, always climbing higher and getting +deeper into the wood. To the left, the steep mountain-side +rose abruptly above them; to the right, below the +path, the river tore its way between steep banks down, +down to its home in the lake. Now and then the trees +parted and made way for a wild mountain torrent leaping +from rock to rock down the hill side, and rushing across +their path to join the river below. As they climbed +further these became more frequent. Their friend could +stride across, setting an occasional foot upon a stepping-stone, +and Righ, too, could cross safely enough, long-limbed +as he was, though now and then he had to swim, +and the streams were so rapid that it needed all his +strength to cross the current. Sometimes he helped +Speireag, for the brave little dog would always try to +follow his big companion, and sometimes, with an anxious +bark, would give warning that help was needed, and then +the kind Father would turn back to pick up the little dog +and carry him till they were in safety.</p> + +<p>It was very hard work, they were always climbing, +and in many places the road was polished with a thin +coating of ice, but the dogs feared nothing and kept on +bravely.</p> + +<p>The path dwindled to a mere track, and the climbing +became steeper still. The streams crossed their road still +oftener, and the stones were slippery with ice. The wood +became thinner, and as they had less shelter from the +trees, great flakes of half-frozen snow were driven against +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>182]</a></span> +their faces. There was no thought now of hares or stags, +Righ and Speireag had no energies left for anything but +patient following. Poor little Speireag’s long coat was +very wet, and as it dried a little, it became hard and crisp +with frost. The long hair falling over his eyes was +matted together and tangled with briers, and his little feet +were sore and heavy with the mud that had caked in the +long tassels of silky hair. Even Righ was very weary, +and he followed soberly now instead of bounding along in +front, his ears and tail drooped, and each time he crossed +the ice-cold water he seemed more and more dejected.</p> + +<p>As they left the wood behind them, the snow fell +thick and blinding, but just at first, as they came out into +the open, it seemed not quite so dark as under the trees. +There was nothing to be seen but grey sky and grey moor, +even the river had been left behind, and only blackened +patches remained to show where, in summer, the ground +was spread with a gay carpet of purple heather and sweet +bog-myrtle. They got deeper at each step into half-frozen +marsh; there was no sound or sign of life. The +dogs felt hungry and weary, and they ached with the cold +and wet. But they were following a friend, and they +trusted him wholly. Well they knew that each step was +taking them farther from home, and farther into the cold +and darkness. But dog-wisdom never asserts itself, and +in trustful humility they followed still, and the snow +came down closer and closer around them, and even the +grey sky and the grey moor were blotted out—and the +darkness fell.</p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>It was a disappointing home-coming for the Bishop that +Thursday evening! There was no hearty handshake from +waiting friend, no rejoicing bay of big dog or extravagant +excitement of little dog to welcome him. The three had +been out the whole day, he was told, and had not yet +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>183]</a></span> +reappeared. A long walk had been projected, but they +had been expected home long before this. When dinner-time +came, and they did not appear, two servants had +been sent out with lanterns to meet them, as the road, +though not one to be missed, was dark, and some small +accident might have happened. The men were not back +yet, but doubtless the missing party would soon return.</p> + +<p>The night was dark and stormy, and Father Mackonochie +had been for some time somewhat invalided, and +as time passed the Bishop became increasingly anxious. +At length he ordered a carriage, and with the gardener +set off towards Kinloch, the head of the loch, thinking +that accident or weariness might have detained his friend, +and the carriage might be useful. On the way they met +the first messengers returning with the news that nothing +could be heard at Kinloch of the missing three, except +that they had passed there between one and two o’clock +in the afternoon. The Bishop and his men sought along +the road, and inquired for tidings at the very few houses +within reach, but in vain. The night was dark and little +could be done, and there was always the hope that on +their return they might find that some tidings had been +heard, that the lost friends might have come back by the +other side of the lake.</p> + +<p>So at last they turned back, reaching home about four +o’clock in the morning. No news had been heard, and +all felt anxious and perplexed, but most believed that +some place of shelter had been reached, as the dogs had +not come home. They could find their way home from +anywhere, and there seemed little doubt that, overtaken +by darkness, all three had found shelter in a shepherd’s +or gamekeeper’s hut, perhaps on the other side of the lake, +as they had almost certainly crossed the bridge, no one +having met them on the road by which they had started.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless all that was possible must be done in +case of the worst, and as soon as daylight returned four +parties of men were despatched in different directions, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>184]</a></span> +the Bishop himself choosing that which his friend and +his dogs were known to have taken the day before.</p> + +<p>A whole day of search over miles and miles of the +desolate wintry mountains revealed but one fact, that the +party had eaten their luncheon under a tree in the wood, +beyond the bridge. The squirrels had left the sandwich +paper there to tell the tale, and for the first time it seemed +likely that they had not turned homewards on reaching +the head of the lake, either by the same road they had +come, or by that on the other side of the water and +through Glencoe.</p> + +<p>One by one, the search parties came home with no +tidings. No trace of the wanderers had been seen, no +bark of dogs had been heard, no help had been found +towards the discovery of the sad secret. Weary and +heartsick as all felt, no time was to be lost, every hour +made the anxiety greater, and all were ready in a very +short time to start afresh.</p> + +<p>Again, for the second time, all through the long night +they wandered over the mountains, through the wood, +and across the deer-forest beyond. It was an awful +night. Again and again were their lights blown out; the +snow lay deep in all the hollows; where the streams had +overflowed their banks, the path was a sheet of solid ice; +the rocks, polished and slippery, were climbed with +utmost difficulty. At every opening in the hills an ice-cold +wind whirled down glen and corrie, sleet and hail-stones +beat against their faces, the frozen pools in the +marshes gave way beneath their feet. The night was +absolutely dark, not a star shone out to give them +courage. The silence and the sounds were alike awful. +Sometimes they could hear each other’s laboured breathing +as they tottered on the ice or waded through the +snow, sometimes all other sounds were lost in the shrieking +of the whirlwinds, the crackling of the ice, and the +roaring of the swollen, angry streams.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>185]</a></span> +What could have happened? Even if accident had +occurred, either or both of the dogs would surely have +returned, and how could even a Highland dog, hungry +and shelterless, live through such a night as this?</p> + +<p>Morning came again, and returning to the point, near +the bridge at which the carriage had been left, two of the +parties met, and drove home for food and dry clothing, +and to learn what others might have to tell.</p> + +<p>There was no news, and again the same earnest +friends, with many more kind helpers, set out on their +almost hopeless journey. The trackless wilds of the +deer-forest seemed the most likely field for search, and +all now, in various groups, set off in this direction.</p> + +<p>Hour after hour passed without any gleam of hope, +and even the Bishop began to feel that everything possible +had been done, and was turning sadly homewards. +A second party, a few hundreds yards behind, +had almost come to the same resolve, many of the men +had been without rest since Thursday, and even the dog, +who with one of the keepers of the deer-forest had +joined the party, was limping wearily and was exhausted +by the cold and the rough walking.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he stopped, and, with ears pricked and head +erect, listened. No one knows better than a Highlander +the worth of a collie’s opinion, and more than one stopped +to listen too. Not far away, and yet faint, came the bark +of a dog! Among the men was Sandy, one of the +Bishop’s stablemen, who knew and loved Righ and +Speireag, and his heart leapt up as he recognised the +deerhound’s bay!</p> + +<p>Away, to their left, the mountains were cleft by a +narrow glen, the sound came from the bank on the hither +side. The Bishop and his party had climbed to the +further side, but a shout reached them, alert and watchful +as they were.</p> + +<p>They turned back wondering, scarcely daring to hope. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>186]</a></span> +The men who had called to them were hastening to a +given point, the dog, nose to ground, preceding them. +There is no mistaking the air of a dog on business. The +collie’s intentness was as different from his late dejection +as was the present haste of the men from the anxious +watchful plodding of their long search.</p> + +<p>In another moment they came in sight of something +which made them hold back the dog, and which arrested +their own footsteps. The Bishop himself must be the +first to tread on what all felt was holy ground.</p> + +<p>There, on the desolate hillside, lay the body of Father +Mackonochie, wreathed about with the spotless snow, a +peaceful expression on his face. One on either side sat +the dogs, watching still, as they had watched through +the two long nights of storm and darkness. Even the +approach of friends did not tempt them to forsake their +duty. With hungry, weary faces they looked towards the +group which first came near them, but not till their own +master knelt down beside all that remained of his old +friend, did they yield up their trust, and rise, numbed +and stiff, from the posts they had taken up, who knows +how long before?</p> + +<p>To say a few words of prayer and thanksgiving was +the Bishop’s first thought, his second to take from his +pocket the sandwiches he carried, and to give all to Righ +and Speireag.</p> + +<p>A bier was contrived of sticks from a rough fence +that marked the boundary of the deer-forest, and the +body was lifted from the frozen ground on which it lay. +The return to Kinloch, where the carriage waited, was +very difficult, and the bearers had to change places very +often.</p> + +<p>Slow as was their progress, it was as rapid as Righ +could manage, numbed with cold, and exhausted with +hunger. The little dog was easily carried, and for once +little Speireag was content to rest.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="illo33" id="illo33"></a> +<img src="images/asb34.jpg" width="600" height="326" +alt="The two dogs watch over their master's body in the snowstorm" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">‘THE LONG VIGIL’</p> + +<p>No one will ever know what those faithful dogs felt +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187"><!-- original location of Vigil illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>189]</a></span> +and endured during those two days and nights of storm +and loneliness. Those who sought them in the darkness +of that second awful night must have passed very near +the spot where they lay, sleeping perhaps, or deafened +by the storm, or even, possibly, listening anxiously with +beating hearts to the footsteps which came so near, and +yet turned away, leaving them, faithful to their post, in +the night.</p> + +<p>They in their degree, like the man whose last sleep +they guarded, were ‘true and faithful servants.’</p> + + +<p class="break">It is pleasant to know that Righ and Speireag did not +suffer permanently for all they had undergone! They +lived for five years and a half after, and had many and +many a happy ramble when the sun was bright and the +woods were green, and squirrels and hares were merry. +They could not be better cared for than they had always +been, but, if possible, they were more indulged. If they +contrived to get a dinner in the kitchen as well as in the +dining-room, their friends remembered the days when +they had none, and nobody told tales. If they lay in the +sun quite across the front door, or took up the whole of +the rug before the winter fire, everyone felt that there +were arrears of warmth to be made up to them. Their +portraits were painted, and in the sculpture which in his +own church commemorates Father Mackonochie’s death, +the dogs have not been forgotten.</p> + +<p>Righ was the elder of the two, and towards the end +of his thirteen years showed signs of old age and became +rheumatic and feeble, but Speireag, though three years +younger, did not long survive him.</p> + +<p>They rest now under a cairn in the beautiful garden +they loved so well; dark green fir trees shelter their grave, +a gentle stream goes merrily by on its way to the lake +below, and in the crannies of the stones of which the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>190]</a></span> +cairn is built, fox-gloves and primroses and little ferns +grow fresh and green.</p> + +<p>On the cairn is this inscription:</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">In Memory Of</span><br /> +<br /> +15th December, 1887.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Righ</span> died 19th January, 1893.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Speireag</span> died 28th August, 1893.<br /> +</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>191]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>MONKEY TRICKS AND SALLY AT THE ZOO</i></h2> + +<p class="source"><i>Naturalist’s Note-book.</i></p> + + +<p>Some monkeys are cleverer and more civilised than +others, and the chiefs have their followers well in hand; +every monkey having his own especial duties, which +he is very careful to fulfil. When the stores of food +which have been collected are getting low, the elders of +the tribe—grey beards with long manes—meet together +and decide where they shall go to lay in fresh supplies. +This important point being settled, the whole body of +monkeys, even down to the very little ones, leave the +woods or mountain ravine where they live, and form into +regular order. First scouts are posted; some being sent +on to places in advance, others being left to guard the +rear, while the main body, made up of the young and +helpless monkeys, follow the chiefs, who march solemnly +in front and carefully survey every precipice or doubtful +place before they suffer anyone to pass over it.</p> + +<p>It is not at all easy, even for an elderly and experienced +monkey, to keep order among the host of lively chattering +creatures for whose safety he is responsible, and indeed it +would often be an impossible task if it were not for the +help of the rear-guard. These much-tried animals have +to make up quarrels which often break out by the way; +to prevent the greedy ones from stopping to eat every +scrap of fruit or berry that hangs from the trees as they +pass, and to scold the mothers who try to linger behind +in order to dress their children’s hair and to make them +smart for the day.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>192]</a></span> +Under these conditions, it takes a long time even for +monkeys to reach their destination, which is generally a +corn-field, but, once there, scouts are sent out to every +rock or rising ground, so as to guard against any surprise. +Then the whole tribe fall to, and after filling their cheek +pouches with ears of corn, they make up bundles to tuck +under their arms. After the long march and the hasty +picking, they begin to get thirsty as well as hungry, and +the next thing is to find some water. This is very soon +done, as they seem able to detect it under the sand, however +deep down it may be, and by dint of taking regular +turns at digging, it does not take long before they have +laid bare a well that is large enough for everybody.</p> + +<p>Monkeys love by nature to imitate what they see, and +have been known to smoke a pipe, and to pretend to read +a book that they have seen other people reading. But +sometimes they can do a great deal more than this, and +show that they can calculate and reason better than many +men. A large Abyssinian monkey was one day being +taken round Khartoum by its master, and made to perform +all sorts of tricks for the amusement of the bystanders. +Among these was a date-seller, who was squatting on the +ground beside his fruit. Now the monkey was passionately +fond of dates, but being very cunning was careful not to +let this appear, and went on performing his tricks as usual, +drawing little by little nearer to the date basket as he did +so. When he thought he was near enough for his purpose, +he first pretended to die, slowly and naturally, and then, +after lying for a moment on the sand as stiff as a corpse, +suddenly bounded up with a scream straight in front of +the date-seller’s face, and stared at him with his wild eyes. +The man looked back at him spell-bound, quite unaware +that one of the monkey’s hind feet was in the date basket, +clawing up as much fruit as its long toes could hold. +By some such trick as this the monkey managed to steal +enough food daily to keep him fat and comfortable.</p> + +<p>No cleverer monkey ever lived than the ugly old Sally, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>193]</a></span> +who died at the Zoological Gardens of London only a few +years ago. Her keeper had spent an immense deal of +time and patience in training her up, and it was astonishing +what she was able to do. ‘Sally,’ he would say, +putting a tin cup full of milk into her hands, with a spoon +hanging from it, ‘show us how you used to drink when +you were in the woods,’ upon which Sally stuck all her +fingers into the milk and sucked them greedily. ‘Now,’ +he continued, ‘show us how you drink since you became +a lady,’ and then Sally took the spoon and drank her milk +in dainty little sips. Next he picked up a handful of +straw from the bottom of the cage, and remarked carelessly, +‘Here, just tear those into six, will you, all the +same length.’ Sally took the straws, and in half a minute +the thing was done. But she had not come to the end of +her surprises yet. ‘You’re very fond of pear, I know,’ +said the keeper, producing one out of his pocket and +cutting it with his knife; ‘well, I’m going to put some on +my hand, but you’re not to touch it until I’ve cut two +short pieces and three long ones, and then you may take +the second long one, but you aren’t to touch any of the +rest.’ The man went on cutting his slices without stopping, +and was quite ready to begin upon a sixth, when +Sally stretched out her hand, and took the fourth lying +along the row, which she had been told she might have. +Very likely she might have accomplished even more +wonderful things than this, but one cold day she caught a +chill, and died in a few hours of bronchitis.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>194]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>HOW THE CAYMAN WAS KILLED</i></h2> + +<p class="source">Waterton’s <i>Wanderings in S. America</i>.</p> + + +<p>In the year 1782 there was born in the old house of +Walton, near Pontefract, in Yorkshire, a boy named +Charles Waterton, who afterwards became very famous +as a traveller and a naturalist. As soon as he could walk, +he was always to be found poking about among trees, or +playing with animals, and both at home and at school he got +into many a scrape through his love of adventure. He +was only about ten when some other boys dared him to +ride on a cow, and of course he was not going to be +beaten. So up he got while the cow was only thinking +how good the grass tasted, but the moment she felt a +strange weight on her back, she flung her heels straight +into the air, and off flew Master Waterton over her head.</p> + +<p>Many years after this, Waterton was travelling in +South America, seeing and doing many curious things. +For a long time he had set his heart on catching a cayman, +a kind of alligator that is found in the rivers +of Guiana. For this purpose he took some Indians with +him to the Essequibo, which falls into the sea not far +from Demerara, and was known to be a famous place for +caymans. It was no good attempting to go after them +during the long, bright day. They were safely in hiding, +and never thought of coming out till the sun was below +the horizon.</p> + +<p>So Waterton and his Indians waited in patience till +the moon rose, and everything was still, except that +now and then a huge fish would leap into the air and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>195]</a></span> +plunge again under water. Suddenly there broke forth +a fearful noise, unlike the cry of any other creature. As +one cayman called another answered; and although +caymans are not very common anywhere, that night you +would have thought that the world was full of them.</p> + +<p>The three men stopped eating their supper of turtle +and turned and looked over the river. Waterton could +see nothing, but the Indian silently pointed to a black log +that lay in the stream, just over the place where they +had baited a hook with a large fish, and bound it on a +board. At the end of the board a rope was fastened, and +this was also made fast to a tree on the bank. By-and-bye +the black log began to move, and in the bright +moonlight he was clearly seen to open his long jaws and +to take the bait inside them. But the watchers on shore +pulled the rope too soon, and the cayman dropped the +bait at once. Then for an hour he lay quite still, thinking +what he should do next, but feeling cross at having lost +his supper, he made up his mind to try once more, and +cautiously took the bait in his mouth. Again the rope +was pulled, and again the bait was dropped into the river; +but in the end the cayman proved more cunning than the +Indians, for after he had played this trick for three or +four times he managed to get the fish without the hook, +and when the sun rose again, Waterton knew that cayman +hunting was over for that day.</p> + +<p>For two or three nights they watched and waited, but +did not ever get so near success as before. Let them +conceal a hook in the bait ever so cleverly, the cayman +was sure to be cleverer than they, and when morning +came, the bait was always gone and the hook always left. +The Indians, however, had no intention of allowing the +cayman to beat them in the long run, and one of them +invented a new hook, which this time was destined to +better luck. He took four or five pieces of wood about a +foot long, barbed them at each end, and tied them firmly +to the end of a rope, thirty yards long. Above the barb +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>196]</a></span> +was baited the flesh of an acouri, a creature the size of +a rabbit. The whole was then fastened to a post driven +into the sand, and the attention of the cayman aroused +to what was going on by some sharp blows on an empty +tortoiseshell, which served as a drum.</p> + +<p>About half-past five the Indian got up and stole out +to look, and then he called triumphantly to the rest to +come up at once, for on the hook was a cayman, ten feet +and a half long.</p> + +<p>But hard as it had been to secure him, it was nothing +to the difficulty of getting him out alive, and with his scales +uninjured, especially as the four Indians absolutely refused +to help, and that left only two white men and a negro, to +grapple with the huge monster. Of these, too, the negro +showed himself very timid, and it was not easy to persuade +him to be of any use.</p> + +<p>The position was certainly puzzling. If the Indians +refused their help, the cayman could not be taken alive +at all, and if they gave it, it was only at the price of +injuring the animal and spoiling its skin. At length a +compromise occurred to Waterton. He would take the +mast of the canoe, which was about eight feet long, and +would thrust it down the cayman’s throat, if it showed +any signs of attacking him. On this condition, the +Indians agreed to give their aid.</p> + +<p>Matters being thus arranged, Waterton then placed +his men—about seven in all—at the end of the rope and +told them to pull till the cayman rose to the surface, +while he himself knelt down with the pole about four +yards from the bank, ready for the cayman, should he +appear, roaring. Then he gave the signal, and slowly +the men began to pull. But the cayman was not to be +caught without a struggle. He snorted and plunged +violently, till the rope was slackened, when he instantly +dived below. Then the men braced all their strength for +another effort, and this time out he came and made +straight for Waterton.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>197]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="illo34" id="illo34"></a> +<img src="images/asb35.jpg" width="600" height="372" +alt="The men force the cayman out of the water" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE CAPTURE OF THE CAYMAN</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>199]</a></span> +The naturalist was so excited by his capture, that he +lost all sense of the danger of his position. He waited +till the cayman was within a few feet of him, when he +flung away his pole, and with a flying leap landed on the +cayman’s back, twisting up the creature’s feet and holding +tightly on to them. The cayman, very naturally, could +not in the least understand what had happened, but he +began to plunge and struggle, and to lash out behind +with his thick scaly tail, while the Indians looked on from +afar, and shouted in triumph.</p> + +<p>To Waterton the only fear was, lest the rope should +prove too weak for the strain, in which case he and the +cayman would promptly disappear into the depths of the +Essequibo. But happily the rope was strong, and after +being dragged by the Indians for forty yards along the +sand, the cayman gave in, and Waterton contrived to tie +his jaws together, and to lash his feet on to his back. +Then he was put to death, and so ended the chase of the +cayman.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>200]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>THE STORY OF FIDO</i></h2> + + +<p>Fido’s master had to go a long journey across the country +to a certain town, and he was carrying with him a large +bag of gold to deposit at the bank there. This bag he +carried on his saddle, for he was riding, as in those days +there were no trains, and he had to travel as quickly as he +could.</p> + +<p>Fido scampered cheerfully along at the horse’s heels, +and every now and then the man would call out to her, +and Fido would wag her tail and bark back an answer.</p> + +<p>The sun was hot and the road dusty, and poor Fido’s +little legs grew more and more tired. At last they came +to a cool, shady wood, and the master stopped, dismounted, +and tied his horse to a tree, and took his heavy +saddle-bags from the saddle.</p> + +<p>He laid them down very carefully, and pointing to +them, said to Fido, ‘Watch them.’</p> + +<p>Then he drew his cloak about him, lay down with his +head on the bags, and soon was fast asleep.</p> + +<p>Little Fido curled herself up close to her master’s +head, with her nose over one end of the bags, and +went to sleep too. But she did not sleep very soundly, +for her master had told her to watch, and every few +moments she would open her eyes and prick up her ears, +in case anyone were coming.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 376px;"> +<a name="illo35" id="illo35"></a> +<img src="images/asb36.jpg" width="376" height="600" +alt="The master looks down from his horse at Fido" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE WOUNDING OF FIDO</p> + +<p>Her master was tired and slept soundly and long—much +longer than he had intended. At last he was +awakened by Fido’s licking his face. The dog saw that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201"><!-- original location of Fido illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>203]</a></span> +the sun was nearly setting, and knew that it was time for +her master to go on his journey.</p> + +<p>The man patted Fido and then jumped up, much +troubled to find he had slept so long. He snatched up +his cloak, threw it over his horse, untied the bridle, sprang +into the saddle, and calling Fido, started off in great +haste. But Fido did not seem ready to follow him. She +ran after the horse and bit at his heels, and then ran back +again to the woods, all the time barking furiously. This +she did several times, but her master had no time to heed +her and galloped away, thinking she would follow him.</p> + +<p>At last the little dog sat down by the roadside, and +looked sorrowfully after her master, until he had turned +a bend in the road. When he was no longer in sight she +sprang up with a wild bark, and ran after him again. +She overtook him just as he had stopped to water his +horse at a brook that flowed across the road. She stood +beside the brook and barked so savagely that her master +rode back and called her to him; but instead of coming +she darted off down the road still barking.</p> + +<p>Her master did not know what to think, and began to +fear that his dog was going mad. Mad dogs are afraid of +water, and act in a strange way when they see it. While +the man was thinking of this, Fido came running back +again, and dashed at him furiously. She leapt at the legs +of his horse, and even jumped up and bit the toe of her +master’s boot. Then she ran down the road again, barking +with all her might.</p> + +<p>Her master was now sure that she was mad, and, +taking out his pistol he shot her. He rode away quickly, +for he loved her dearly and could not bear to see her +die.</p> + +<p>He had not ridden very far when he stopped suddenly. +He felt under his coat for his saddle-bags. They were +not there!</p> + +<p>Could he have dropped them, or had he left them +behind in the wood where he had rested? He felt sure +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>204]</a></span> +they must be in the wood, for he could not remember +having picked them up or fastening them to his saddle.</p> + +<p>He turned his horse and rode back again as hard as +he could.</p> + +<p>When he came to the brook he sighed and said, ‘Poor +Fido!’ but though he looked about he could see nothing +of her. When he crossed the brook he saw some drops +of blood on the ground, and all along the road he still saw +drops of blood. Tears came into his eyes, and he felt +very sad and guilty, for now he understood why little +Fido had acted so strangely. She knew that her master +had left behind his precious bags of gold, and so she +had tried to tell him in the only way she could.</p> + +<p>All the way to the wood lay the drops of blood. At +last he reached the wood, and there, all safe, lay the bags +of gold, and beside them, with her little nose lying over +one end of them, lay faithful Fido, who, you will be pleased +to hear, recovered from her wound, and lived to a great age.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>205]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>BEASTS BESIEGED</i></h2> + +<p class="source">Adapted from Théophile Gautier.</p> + + +<p>Twenty-five years ago (in the winter of 1870-1871) +Paris was closely besieged by the Germans, who had +beaten one French army after another on the frontier, +and had now advanced into the very heart of the country. +The cold was frightful, and no wood could be got, and as +if this was not enough, food began to give out, and the +people inside the city soon learned to know the tortures +of hunger. There was no hay or corn for the horses; +after sheep and oxen they were the first animals to be +eaten, and then whispers were heard about elephants and +camels and other beasts in the Jardin des Plantes, which +is the French name for their Zoological Gardens.</p> + +<p>Now it is quite bad enough to be taken from the +forests and deserts where you never did anything but just +what you chose, and to be shut up in a small cage behind +bars; but it is still worse not to have enough food to eat, +and worst of all to be made into food for other people. +Luckily the animals did not know what was being talked +about in the world outside, or they would have been more +uncomfortable than they were already.</p> + +<p>Any visitor to the Jardin des Plantes about Christmas +time in 1870, and for many weeks later, would have seen +a strange sight. Some parts of the Gardens were set +aside for hospitals, and rows of beds occupied every +sheltered building. Passing through these, the visitor +found himself in the kingdom of the beasts, who were +often much more gentle than their gaolers.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>206]</a></span> +After coming from the streets where nothing was the +same as it had been six months before, and everything +was topsy-turvy, it was almost soothing to watch the +animals going on in their usual way, quite regardless of +what men might be doing outside. There was the white +bear swinging himself from side to side and rubbing his +nose against the bars, just as he had done on the day +that he had first taken up his abode there. There was +a camel still asking for cakes, and an elephant trumpeting +with fury because he didn’t get any. Nobody had cakes +for themselves, and it would have been far easier to place +a gold piece in the twirling proboscis. An elephant who +is badly fed is not a pretty spectacle. Its skin is so large +that it seems as if it would take in at least three or four +extra bodies, and having only one shrunken skeleton to +cover, it shrivels up into huge wrinkles and looks like +the earth after a dry summer. On the whole, certain +kinds of bears come off best, for they can sleep all the +winter through, and when they wake up, the world will +seem the same as when they last shut their eyes, and +unless their friend the white bear tells them in bear +language all that has happened they will never be any +the wiser.</p> + +<p>Still it is not all the bears who are lucky enough to +have the gift of sleep. Some remained broad awake, and +stood idly about in the corners of their dens, not knowing +how to get rid of the time that hung so heavily on their +paws. What was the use for the big brown marten to go +up to the top of his tree, when there was no one to tickle +his nose with a piece of bread at the end of a string? +Why should his brother take the trouble to stand up on +his hind legs when there was nobody to laugh and clap +him? Only one very young bear indeed, with bright +eyes and a yellow skin, went on his own way, regardless +of spectators, and he was busily engaged in looking at himself +in a pail of water and putting on all sorts of little airs +and graces, from sheer admiration of his own beauty.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>207]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 408px;"> +<a name="illo36" id="illo36"></a> +<img src="images/asb37.jpg" width="408" height="400" +alt="The lion dreams of antelope at the waterhole" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE DREAM OF THE HUNGRY LION</p> + +<p>Perhaps the most to be pitied of all were the lions, +for they do not know how to play, and could only lie about +and remember the days when towards sunset they crept +towards the cool hill, and waited till the antelopes came +down for their evening drink. And then, ah <em>then</em>! but +that is only a memory, while stretched out close by is +the poor lioness in the last stage of consumption, and +looking more like those half-starved fighting lions you +see on royal coats of arms than a real beast. At such +times most children would give anything to catch up the +Zoological Gardens and carry them right away into the +centre of Africa, and let out the beasts and make them +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>208]</a></span> +happy and comfortable once more. But that was not +the feeling of the little boy who had been taken by his +mother to see the beasts as a treat for his birthday. At +each cage they passed he came to a standstill, and +gazing at the animal with greedy eyes, he said, ‘Mother, +wouldn’t you like to eat that?’ Every time his mother +answered him, ‘No one eats these beasts, my boy; they +are brought from countries a long way off, and cost a +great deal of money.’ The child was silent for a moment, +but at the sight of the zebra, the elk, or the little hyæna, +his face brightened again, and his voice might be heard +piping forth its old question, ‘Mother, wouldn’t you like +to eat that?’</p> + +<p>It is a comfort to think that the horrid greedy boy +was disappointed in his hopes. Whatever else he may +have eaten, the taste of lions and of bears is still strange +to him, for the siege of Paris came to an end at last, and +the animals were made happy as of old with their daily +portions.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>209]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>MR. GULLY</i></h2> + + +<p>He was a herring gull, and one of the largest I have ever +seen. He was beautiful to look at with his soft grey +plumage, never a feather of which was out of place. Of +his character I will say nothing; that can be best judged +by reading the following truthful biography of my ‘dove +of the waters.’</p> + +<p>I cannot begin at the beginning. Of his youth, which +doubtless, in every sense of the word, was a stormy +one, I know nothing. He had already acquired the +wisdom, or perhaps in his case slyness is a better word, of +years by the time that he came to us.</p> + +<p>Gully was found one day in a field near our house +in a very much exhausted condition. He had probably +come a long distance, which he must have accomplished +on foot, as he was unable to fly owing to his wing having +been pinioned.</p> + +<p>He was very hungry and greedily bolted a small fish +that we offered him, and screamed for more. We then +turned him into the garden, where he soon found a +sheltered corner by our dining-room window and went to +sleep standing on one leg. The other one he always kept +tucked away so that was quite invisible.</p> + +<p>Next morning I came out to look for Gully and feed +him. He had vanished! I thought of the pond where I +kept my goldfish, forty beautiful goldfish. There sure +enough was Mr. Gully swimming about contentedly, but +where were the goldfish? Instead of the crystal clear +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>210]</a></span> +pond, was a pool of muddy water; instead of forty goldfish, +all that I could make out, when Mr. Gully had been +chased away and the water given time to settle, was one +miserable little half-dead fish, the only survivor of the +forty.</p> + +<p>This was the first of Gully’s misdeeds. To look at +Gully, no one could believe him to be capable of hurting +a fly. He had the most lovely gentle brown eyes you +ever saw, and seemed more like a benevolent old professor +than anything else. He generally appeared to be half +asleep or else sunning himself with a contented smile on +his thoughtful countenance.</p> + +<p>Gully next took to killing the sparrows; he was very +clever at this. When he had finished eating, the sparrows +were in the habit of appropriating the remnants of the +feast. This Gully strongly disapproved of, so when he +had eaten as much as he wanted, he retired behind a +chair and waited till the sparrows were busy feasting, +then he would make a rush and seize the nearest offender. +He sometimes used to kill as many as from two to four +sparrows a day in this manner. The pigeons then took +to coming too near his reach. At first he was afraid of +them and left them alone; but the day came when a +young fan-tail was foolish enough to take his airing on +the terrace, close to Mr. Gully’s nose. This was too +much for Mr. Gully, who pounced upon the unfortunate +‘squeaker’ and slew him. <i>L’appétit vient en mangeant</i>, +and after this Mr. Gully took the greatest delight in +hunting these unfortunate birds and murdering them. +No pigeon was too large for him to attack. I only just +succeeded in saving the cock-pouter, a giant among +pigeons, from an untimely death, by coming up in time to +drive Mr. Gully away from his victim.</p> + +<p>After this we decided to shut Mr. Gully up. We +thought he would make a charming companion for the +guinea-pigs. At that time I used to keep about fifty +of various species in a hen-run. So to the guinea-pigs +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>211]</a></span> +Gully was banished. At first the arrangement answered +admirably, Gully behaved as nicely as possible for about +a month, and we were all congratulating ourselves on +having found such a good way out of our difficulty, when +all at once his thirst for blood was roused afresh. One +day he murdered four guinea-pigs and the next day three +more of these unfortunate little beasts.</p> + +<p>We then let him join the hens and ducks. He at +once constituted himself the leader of the latter; every +morning he would lead them down to a pond at the +bottom of the fields, a distance of about a quarter of a +mile; and every evening he would summon them round +him and lead them home. At his cry the ducks and +drakes would come waddling up to him with loud quacks; +he used always to march in the most stately manner +about two yards ahead of them. Of the cocks and hens +Gully deigned to take no notice. On two occasions he +made an exception to this rule of conduct. On the first, +he and a hen had a dispute over the possession of a worm. +This dispute led to a fight of which Gully was getting +the best when the combatants were separated. On the +second occasion Gully was accused of decapitating a hen. +No one saw him do it, but it looked only too like his +work. He had a neat clean style.</p> + +<p>One day he led his ducks to the pond as usual, but in +the evening they returned by themselves. We came to +the conclusion that the poor old bird must be dead. We +quite gave him up for lost, and had mourned him for two +or three weeks, when what should we see one day but +Mr. Gully leading his ducks as usual to his favourite +pond, as if he had never been away.</p> + +<p>Where he had spent all the time he was absent remains +a mystery to this day. After this he remained with us +some time, during which he performed no new feat of +valour with the exception of one fight which he had with +a cat. In this fight he had some feathers pulled out, but +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>212]</a></span> +ultimately succeeded in driving her off after giving her +leg such a bite that she was lame for many a long +day.</p> + +<p>Since then he has again disappeared. Will he ever +return? Mysterious was his coming and mysterious his +going.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>213]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>STORIES FROM PLINY</i><br /> +<br /> +<span class="vsmlfont">HOW DOGS LOVE</span></h2> + + +<p>Now there was living at Rome, under the Emperors Vespasian +and Titus (<small>A.D.</small> 69-81) a man called Pliny, who gave +up his life to the study of animals and plants. He not only +watched their habits for himself, but he listened eagerly +to all that travellers would tell him, and sometimes +happened to believe too much, and wrote in his book +things that were not true. Still there were a great many +facts which he had found out for himself, and the stories +he tells about animals are of interest to every one, partly +because it seems strange to think that dogs and horses +and other creatures were just the same then as they are +now.</p> + +<p>The dogs that Pliny writes about lived in all parts of +the Roman Empire, and were as faithful and devoted to +their masters as our dogs are to us. One dog called +Hyrcanus, belonging to King Lysimachus, one of the +successors of Alexander the Great, jumped on to the +funeral pyre on which lay burning the dead body of his +master. And so did another dog at the burial of Hiero of +Syracuse. But during the lifetime of Pliny himself, a +dog’s devotion in the heart of Rome had touched even the +Roman citizens, ashamed though they generally were +of showing their feelings. It had happened that a plot +against the life of Nero had been discovered, and the chief +conspirator, Titus Sabinus by name, was put to death, +together with some of his servants. One of these men +had a dog of which he was very fond, and from the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>214]</a></span> +moment the man was thrown into prison, the dog could +not be persuaded to move away from the door. At last +there came a day when the man suffered the cruel death +common in Rome for such offences, and was thrown down +a steep flight of stairs, where he broke his neck. A crowd +of Romans had gathered round the place of execution, in +order to see the sight, and in the midst of them all the dog +managed to reach his master’s side, and lay there, howling +piteously. Then one of the crowd, moved with pity, +threw the dog a piece of meat, but he only took it, and +laid it across his master’s mouth. By-and-bye, the men +came for the body in order to throw it into the river +Tiber, and even then the dog followed and swam after it, +and held it up and tried to bring it to land, till the people +came out in multitudes from the houses round about, to +see what it was to be faithful unto death—and beyond it.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>215]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>THE STRANGE HISTORY OF CAGNOTTE</i></h2> + +<p class="source"><i>Ménagerie Intime.</i></p> + + +<p>In the early part of this century, a little boy of three years +old, named Théophile Gautier, travelled with his parents +from Tarbes, in the south of France, to Paris. He was so +small that he could not speak any proper French, but +talked like the country people; and he divided the world +into those who spoke like him and were his friends, and +those who did not, and were strangers.</p> + +<p>But though he was only three, and a great baby in +many ways, he loved his home dearly, and everything +about it, and it nearly broke his heart to come away. His +parents tried to comfort him by giving him the most +beautiful chocolates and little cakes, and when that failed +they tried what drums and trumpets would do. But +drums and trumpets succeeded no better than cakes and +chocolates, for the greater part of poor Théophile’s tears +were shed for the ‘dog he had left behind him,’ called +Cagnotte, which his father had given away to a friend, as +he did not think that any dog who had been accustomed +to run along the hills and valleys above Tarbes, could +ever make himself happy in Paris.</p> + +<p>Théophile, however, did not understand this, but cried +for Cagnotte all day long; and one morning he could +bear it no longer. His nurse had put out all his tin +soldiers neatly on the table, with a little German village +surrounded by stiff green trees just in front of them, +hoping Théophile might play at a battle or a siege, and +she had also placed his fiddle (which was painted bright +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>216]</a></span> +scarlet) quite handy, so that he might play the triumphal +march of the victor. Nothing was of any use. As soon +as Josephine’s back was turned Théophile threw soldiers +and village and fiddle out of the window, and then prepared +to jump after them, so that he might take the +shortest way back to Tarbes and Cagnotte. Luckily, just +as his foot was on the sill, Josephine came back from +the next room, and saw what he was about. She rushed +after him and caught him by the jacket, and then took +him on her knee, and asked him why he was going to do +anything so naughty and dangerous. When Théophile +explained that it was Cagnotte whom he wanted and must +have, and that nobody else mattered at all, Josephine was +so afraid he would try to run away again, that she told +him that if he would only have patience and wait a little +Cagnotte would come to him.</p> + +<p>All day long Théophile gave Josephine no peace. +Every few minutes he came running to his nurse to know +if Cagnotte had arrived, and he was only quieted when +Josephine went out and returned carrying a little dog, +which in some ways was very like his beloved Cagnotte. +Théophile was not quite satisfied at first, till he remembered +that Cagnotte had travelled a long, long way, and it was +not to be expected that he should look the same dog as +when he started; so he put aside his doubts, and knelt +down to give Cagnotte a great hug of welcome. The new +Cagnotte, like the old, was a lovely black poodle, and had +excellent manners, besides being full of fun. He licked +Théophile on both cheeks, and was altogether so friendly +that he was ready to eat bread and butter off the same +plate as his little master.</p> + +<p>The two got on beautifully, and were perfectly happy +for some time, and then gradually Cagnotte began to lose +his spirits, and instead of jumping and running about the +world, he moved slowly, as if he was in pain. He breathed +shortly and heavily, and refused to eat anything, and even +Théophile could see he was feeling ill. One day Cagnotte +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>217]</a></span> +was lying stretched out on his master’s lap, and Théophile +was softly stroking his skin, when suddenly his hand +caught in what seemed to be string, or strong thread. +In great surprise, Josephine was at once called, to explain +the strange matter. She stooped down, and peered closely +at the dog’s skin, then took her scissors and cut the thread. +Cagnotte stretched himself, gave a shake, and jumped +down from Théophile’s lap, leaving a sort of black sheep-skin +behind him.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 346px;"> +<a name="illo37" id="illo37"></a> +<img src="images/asb38.jpg" width="346" height="325" +alt="Josephine cuts off the dog's sheep-skin" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">CAGNOTTE COMES OUT OF HIS SKIN</p> + +<p>Some wicked men had sewn him up in this coat, so +that they might get more money for him; and without it +he was not a poodle at all, but just an ugly little street +dog, without beauty of any kind.</p> + +<p>After helping to eat Théophile’s bread and butter and +soup for some weeks, Cagnotte began to grow fatter, and +his outside skin became too tight for him, and he was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>218]</a></span> +nearly suffocated. Once delivered from it, he shook his +ears for joy, and danced a waltz of his own round the +room, not caring a straw how ugly he might be as long as +he was comfortable. A very few weeks spent in the +society of Cagnotte made the memory of Tarbes and its +mountains grow dim in the mind of Théophile. He learnt +French, and forgot the way the country people talked, and +soon he had become, thanks to Cagnotte, such a thorough +little Parisian, that he would not have understood what +his old friends said, if one of them had spoken to him.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>219]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>STILL WATERS RUN DEEP; OR THE +DANCING DOG</i></h2> + +<p class="source"><i>Ménagerie Intime.</i></p> + + +<p>When Little Théophile became Big Théophile, he was as +fond as ever of dogs and cats, and he knew more about +them than anybody else. After the death of a large white +spaniel called Luther, he filled the vacant place on his +rug by another of the same breed, to whom he gave the +name of Zamore. Zamore was a little dog, as black as +ink, except for two yellow patches over his eyes, and a +stray patch on his chest. He was not in the least handsome, +and no stranger would ever have given him a second +thought. But when you came to know him, you found +Zamore was not a common dog at all. He despised all +women, and absolutely refused to obey them or to follow +them, and neither Théophile’s mother nor his sisters could +get the smallest sign of friendship from him. If they +offered him cakes or sugar, he would accept them in a +dignified manner, but never dreamed of saying ‘thank you,’ +still less of wagging his tail on the floor, or giving little +yaps of delight and gratitude, as well-brought-up dogs +should do. Even to Théophile’s father, whom he liked +better than anyone else, he was cold and respectful, though +he followed him everywhere, and never left his master’s +heels when they took a walk. And when they were fishing +together, Zamore would sit silent on the bank for hours +together, and only allowed himself one bark when the fish +was safely hooked.</p> + +<p>Now no one could possibly have guessed that a dog of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>220]</a></span> +such very quiet and reserved manners was at heart as +gay and cheerful as the silliest kitten that ever was born, +but so he was, and this was how his family found it out.</p> + +<p>One day he was walking as seriously as usual through +a broad square in the outskirts of Paris, when he was +surprised at meeting a large grey donkey, with two panniers +on its back, and in the panniers a troop of dogs, +some dressed as Swiss shepherdesses, some as Turks, +some in full court costume. The owner of the animals +stopped the donkey close to where Zamore was standing, +and bade the dogs jump down. Then he cracked his +whip; the fife and drum struck up a merry tune, the +dogs steadied themselves on their hind legs, and the dance +began.</p> + +<p>Zamore looked on as if he had been turned into stone. +The sight of these dogs, dressed in bright colours, this one +with his head covered by a feathered hat, and that one by +a turban, but all moving about in time to the music, and +making pirouettes and little bows; were they really <em>dogs</em> +he was watching or some new kind of men? Anyway he +had never seen anything so enchanting or so beautiful, +and if it was true that they were only dogs—well, <em>he</em> was +a dog too!</p> + +<p>With that thought, all that had lain hidden in Zamore’s +soul burst forth, and when the dancers filed gracefully +before him, he raised himself on his hind legs, and in spite +of staggering a little, prepared to join the ring, to the +great amusement of the spectators.</p> + +<p>The dog-owner, however, whose name was Monsieur +Corri, did not see matters in the same light. He raised +his whip a second time, and brought it down with a crack +on the sides of Zamore, who ran out of the ring, and with +his tail between his legs and an air of deep thought, he +returned home.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 405px;"> +<a name="illo38" id="illo38"></a> +<img src="images/asb39.jpg" width="405" height="600" +alt="The girl finds Zamore practising his dancing" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">‘AND WHAT DO YOU THINK SHE SAW?’</p> + +<p>All that day Zamore was more serious and more gloomy +than ever. Nothing would tempt him out, hardly even +his favourite dinner, and it was quite plain that he was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221"><!-- original location of She Saw illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>223]</a></span> +turning over something in his mind. But during the +night his two young mistresses were awakened by a +strange noise that seemed to come from an empty room +next theirs, where Zamore usually slept. They both lay +awake and listened, and thought it was like a measured +stamping, and that the mice might be giving a ball. But +could little mice feet tread so heavily as that? Supposing +a thief had got in? So the bravest of the two girls got +up, and stealing to the door softly opened it and looked +into the room. And what do you think she saw? Why, +Zamore, on his hind legs, his paws in the air, practising +carefully the steps that he had been watching that +morning!</p> + +<p>This was not, as one might have expected, a mere fancy +of the moment, which would be quite forgotten the next +day. Zamore was too serious a dog for that, and by dint +of hard study he became in time a beautiful dancer. As +often as the fife and drum were heard in the streets, +Zamore rushed out of the house, glided softly between the +spectators, and watched with absorbed attention the +dancing dogs who were doing their steps: but remembering +the blow he had had from the whip, he took care not +to join them. He noted their positions, the figures, and +the way they held their bodies, and in the night he copied +them, though by day he was just as solemn as ever. Soon +he was not contented with merely copying what he saw, +he invented for himself, and it is only just to say that, in +stateliness of step, few dogs could come up to him. Often +his dances were witnessed (unknown to himself) by +Théophile and his sisters, who watched him through the +crack of the door; and so earnest was he, that at length, +worn out by dancing, he would drink up the whole of a +large basin of water, which stood in the corner of the +room.</p> + +<p>When Zamore felt himself the equal of the best of +the dancing dogs, he began to wish that like them he +might have an audience.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>224]</a></span> +Now in France the houses are not always built in a +row as they are in England, but sometimes have a square +court-yard in front, and in the house where Zamore lived, +this court was shut in on one side by an iron railing, which +was wide enough to let dogs of a slim figure squeeze +through.</p> + +<p>One fine morning there met in this court-yard fifteen +or twenty dogs, friends of Zamore, to whom the night +before he had sent letters of invitation. The object of the +party was to see Zamore make his <i>début</i> in dancing, and +the ball-room was to be the court-yard, which Zamore had +carefully swept with his tail. The dance began, and the +spectators were so delighted, that they could not wait for +the end to applaud, as people ought always to do, but +uttered loud cries of ‘Ouah, ouah,’ that reminded you of +the noises you hear at a theatre. Except one old water +spaniel who was filled with envy at Zamore’s talents, and +declared that no decent dog would ever make an exhibition +of himself like that, they all vowed that Zamore was the +king of dancers, and that nothing had ever been seen to +equal his minuet, jig, and waltz for grace and beauty.</p> + +<p>It was only during his dancing moments that Zamore +unbent. At all other times he was as gloomy as ever, and +never cared to stir from the rug unless he saw his old +master take up his hat and stick for a walk. Of course, +if he had chosen, he might have joined Monsieur Corri’s +<i>troupe</i>, of which he would have made the brightest ornament; +but the love of his master proved greater than his +love of his art, and he remained unknown, except of his +family. In the end he fell a victim to his passion for +dancing, and he died of brain fever, which is supposed to +have been caused by the fatigue of learning the schottische, +the fashionable dance of the day.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>225]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>THEO AND HIS HORSES; JANE, BETSY, +AND BLANCHE</i></h2> + +<p class="source">From <i>Ménagerie Intime</i>.</p> + + +<p>After Théophile grew to be a man, he wrote a great +many books, which are all delightful to read, and everybody +bought them, and Théophile got rich and thought +he might give himself a little carriage with two horses to +draw it.</p> + +<p>And first he fell in love with two dear little Shetland +ponies who were so shaggy and hairy that they seemed +all mane and tail, and whose eyes looked so affectionately +at him, that he felt as if he should like to bring them into +the drawing-room instead of sending them to the stable. +They were charming little creatures, not a bit shy, and +they would come and poke their noses into Théophile’s +pockets in search for sugar, which was always there. +Indeed their only fault was, that they were so very, very +small, and that, after all, was <em>not</em> their fault. Still, they +looked more suited to an English child of eight years old, +or to Tom Thumb, than to a French gentleman of forty, +not so thin as he once was, and as they all passed +through the streets, everybody laughed, and drew pictures +of them, and declared that Théophile could easily +have carried a pony on each arm, and the carriage on his +back.</p> + +<p>Now Théophile did not mind being laughed at, but +still he did not always want to be stared at all through +the streets, whenever he went out. So he sold his ponies +and began to look out for something nearer his own +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>226]</a></span> +size. After a short search he found two of a dapple grey +colour, stout and strong, and as like each other as two +peas, and he called them Jane and Betsy. But although, +to look at, no one could ever tell one from the other, +their characters were totally different, as Jane was very +bold and spirited, and Betsy was terribly lazy. While +Jane did all the pulling, Betsy was quite contented just +to run by her side, without troubling herself in the least, +and, as was only natural, Jane did not think this at all +fair, and took a great dislike to Betsy, which Betsy +heartily returned. At last matters became so bad that, +in their efforts to get at each other, they half kicked the +stable to pieces, and would even rear themselves upon +their hind legs in order to bite each other’s faces. +Théophile did all he could to make them friends, but +nothing was of any use, and at last he was forced to sell +Betsy. The horse he found to replace her was a shade +lighter in colour, and therefore not quite so good a match, +but luckily Jane took to her at once, and lost no time in +doing the honours of the stable. Every day the affection +between the two became greater: Jane would lay her +head on Blanche’s shoulder—she had been called Blanche +because of her fair skin—and when they were turned out +into the stable-yard, after being rubbed down, they played +together like two kittens. If one was taken out alone, +the other became sad and gloomy, till the well-known +tread of its friend’s hoofs was heard from afar, when it +would give a joyful neigh, which was instantly answered.</p> + +<p>Never once was it necessary for the coachman to +complain of any difficulty in harnessing them. They +walked themselves into their proper places, and behaved +in all ways as if they were well brought up, and ready to +be friendly with everybody. They had all kinds of pretty +little ways, and if they thought there was a chance of +getting bread or sugar or melon rind, which they both +loved, they would make themselves as caressing as a +dog.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>227]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 434px;"> +<a name="illo39" id="illo39"></a> +<img src="images/asb40.jpg" width="434" height="600" +alt="Jane is surrounded by imaginary ghosts and monsters" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">BLANCHE TELLING GHOST STORIES TO JANE IN THE STABLE</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>229]</a></span> +Nobody who has lived much with animals can doubt +that they talk together in a language that man is too +stupid to understand; or, if anyone <em>had</em> doubted it, they +would soon have been convinced of the fact by the +conduct of Jane and Blanche when in harness. When +Jane first made Blanche’s acquaintance, she was afraid +of nothing, but after they had been together a few months, +her character gradually changed, and she had sudden +panics and nervous fits, which puzzled her master greatly. +The reason of this was that Blanche, who was very timid +and easily frightened, passed most of the night in telling +Jane ghost stories, till poor Jane learnt to tremble at +every sound. Often, when they were driving in the +lonely alleys of the Bois de Boulogne after dark, +Blanche would come to a dead stop or shy to one side as +if a ghost, which no one else could see, stood before her. +She breathed loudly, trembled all over with fear, and +broke out into a cold perspiration. No efforts of Jane, +strong though she was, could drag her along. The only +way to move her was for the coachman to dismount, and +to lead her, with his hand over her eyes for a few steps, +till the vision seemed to have melted into air. In the +end, these terrors affected Jane just as if Blanche, on +reaching the stable, had told her some terrible story of +what she had seen, and even her master had been known +to confess that when, driving by moonlight down some +dark road, where the trees cast strange shadows, Blanche +would suddenly come to a dead halt and begin to tremble, +he did not half like it himself.</p> + +<p>With this one drawback, never were animals so charming +to drive. If Théophile held the reins, it was really +only for the look of the thing, and not in the least +because it was necessary. The smallest click of the +tongue was enough to direct them, to quicken them, to +make them go to the right or to the left, or even to stop +them. They were so clever that in a very short time +they had learned all their master’s habits, and knew his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>230]</a></span> +daily haunts as well as he did himself. They would +go of their own accord to the newspaper office, to the +printing office, to the publisher’s, to the Bois de Boulogne, +to certain houses where he dined on certain days in +the week, so very punctually that it was quite provoking; +and if it ever happened that Théophile spent longer than +usual at any particular place, they never failed to call +his attention by loud neighs, or by pawing the ground, +sounds of which he quite well knew the meaning.</p> + +<p>But alas, the time came when a Revolution broke out +in Paris. People had no time to buy books or to read +them; they were far too busy in building barricades +across the streets, or in tearing up the paving stones to +throw at each other. The newspaper in which Théophile +wrote, and which paid him enough money to keep his +horses, did not appear any more, and sad though he was +at parting, the poor man thought he was lucky to find +some one to buy horses, carriage, and harness, for a fourth +part of their worth. Tears stood in his eyes as they +were led away to their new stable; but he never forgot +them, and they never forgot him. Sometimes, as he sat +writing at his table, he would hear from afar a light +quick step, and then a sudden stop under the windows.</p> + +<p>And their old master would look up and sigh and say +to himself, ‘Poor Jane, poor Blanche, I hope they are +happy.’</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>231]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>MADAME THÉOPHILE AND THE PARROT</i></h2> + +<p class="source"><i>Ménagerie Intime.</i></p> + + +<p>After the death of Cagnotte, whose story you may have +read, Théophile was so unhappy that he would not have +another dog, but instead, determined to fill the empty place +in his heart with cats. One of those that he loved the best +was a big yellowy-red puss, with a white chest, a pink +nose, and blue eyes, that went by the name of Madame +Théophile, because, when he was in the house, it never left +his side for a single instant. It slept on his bed, dreamed +while sitting on the arm of Théophile’s chair while he was +writing (for Théophile was by this time almost a grown-up +man), walked after him when he went into the garden, +sat by his side while he had his dinner, and sometimes +took, gently and politely, the food he was conveying to +his own mouth.</p> + +<p>One day, a friend of Théophile’s, who was leaving +Paris for a few days, brought a parrot, which he begged +Théophile to take care of while he was away. The bird +not feeling at home in this strange place, climbed up to +the top of his cage and looked round him with his funny +eyes, that reminded you of the nails in a sofa. Now +Madame Théophile had never seen a parrot, and it was +plain that this curious creature gave her a shock. She +sat quite still, staring quietly at the parrot, and trying to +think if she had ever seen anything like it among the +gardens and roofs of the houses, where she got all her +ideas of the world. At last she seemed to make up her +mind:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>232]</a></span> +‘Of course, it must be a kind of green chicken.’</p> + +<p>Having set the question at rest, Madame Théophile +jumped down from the table where she had been seated +while she made her observations, and walked quickly to +the corner of the room, where she laid herself flat down, +with her head bent and her paws stretched out, like a +panther watching his prey.</p> + +<p>The parrot followed all her movements with his round +eyes, and felt that they meant no good to him. He ruffled +his feathers, pulled at his chain, lifted one of his paws in +a nervous way, and rubbed his beak up and down his +food tin. All the while the cat’s blue eyes were talking +in a language the parrot clearly understood, and they +said: ‘Although it is green, that fowl would make a nice +dinner.’</p> + +<p>But Madame Théophile had not lain still all this +while. Slowly, without even appearing to move, she had +drawn closer and closer. Her pink nostrils trembled, her +eyes were half shut, her claws were pushed out and pulled +into their sheaths, and little shivers ran down her back.</p> + +<p>Suddenly her back rounded itself like a bent bow, and +with one bound she leapt on the cage. The parrot knew +his danger, and was too frightened to move; then, calling +up all his courage, he looked his enemy full in the face, +and, in a low and deep voice he put the question: ‘Jacky, +did you have a good breakfast?’</p> + +<p>This simple phrase struck terror into the heart of the +cat, who made a spring backwards. If a cannon had been +fired close to her ear, or a shopful of glass had been broken, +she could not have been more alarmed. Never had she +dreamed of anything like this.</p> + +<p>‘And what did you have—some of the king’s roast +beef?’ continued the parrot.</p> + +<p>‘It is not a chicken, it is a man that is speaking,’ thought +the cat with amazement, and looking at her master, +who was standing by, she retired under the bed. Madame +Théophile knew when she was beaten.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>233]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>THE BATTLE OF THE MULLETS AND +THE DOLPHINS</i></h2> + + +<p>Many singular stories may be found in Pliny, but +the most interesting is how men and dolphins combine +together on the coast of France, near Narbonne, to catch +the swarms of mullet that come into those waters at +certain seasons of the year.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 398px;"> +<a name="illo40" id="illo40"></a> +<img src="images/asb41.jpg" width="398" height="530" +alt="The dolphins drive the fish into the nets" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">HOW THE DOLPHINS HELPED THE FISHERMEN TO CATCH THE MULLETS</p> + +<p>‘In Languedoc, within the province of Narbonne, there +is a standing pool or dead water called Laterra, wherein +men and dolphins together used to fish; for at one certain +time of the year an infinite number of fishes called mullets, +taking the vantage of the tide when the water doth ebb, +at certain narrow weirs and passages with great force +break forth of the said pool into the sea; and by reason +of that violence no nets can be set and pitched against +them strong enough to abide and bear their huge weight +and the stream of the water together, if so be men were +not cunning and crafty to wait and espie their time and +lay for them and to entrap them. In like manner the +mullets for their part immediately make speed to recover +the deep, which they do very soon by reason that the +Channel is near at hand; and their only haste is for this, +to escape and pass that narrow place which affordeth +opportunities to the fishers to stretch out and spread their +nets. The fishermen being ware thereof and all the people +besides (for the multitude knowing when fishing time is +come, run thither, and the rather for to see the pleasant +sport), cry as loud as ever they can to the dolphins for +aid, and call “Simo, Simo,” to help to make an end of this +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>234]</a></span> +their game and pastime of fishing. The dolphins soon +get the ear of their cry and know what they would have, +and the better if the north winds blow and carry the +sound unto them; for if it be a southern wind it is later +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>235]</a></span> +ere the voice be heard, because it is against them. Howbeit, +be the wind in what quarter soever, the dolphins +resort thither flock-meal, sooner than a man would think, +for to assist them in their fishing. And a wondrous +pleasant sight it is to behold the squadrons as it were of +those dolphins, how quickly they take their places and be +arranged in battle array, even against the very mouth of +the said pool, where the mullets are to shoot into the sea, +to see (I say) how from the sea they oppose themselves +and fight against them and drive the mullets (once +affrighted and scared) from the deep on the shelves. +Then come the fishers and beset them with net and toile, +which they bear up and fortify with strong forks; howbeit, +for all that, the mullets are so quick and nimble that +a number of them whip over, get away, and escape the +nets. But the dolphins are ready to receive them; who, +contenting themselves for the present to kill only, make +foul work and havoc among them, and put off the time of +preying and feeding upon, until they have ended the battle +and achieved the victory. And now the skirmish is hot, +for the dolphins, perceiving also the men at work, are the +more eager and courageous in fight, taking pleasure to +be enclosed within the nets, and so most valiantly charging +upon the mullets; but for fear lest the same should give +an occasion unto the enemies and provoke them to retire +and fly back between the boats, the nets, and the men +there swimming, they glide by so gently and easily that +it cannot be seen where they get out. And albeit they +take great delight in leaping, and have the cast of it, yet +none essayeth to get forth but where the nets lie under +them, but no sooner are they out, but presently a man +shall see brave pastime between them as they scuffle and +skirmish as it were under the ramparts. And so the +conflict being ended and all the fishing sport done, the +dolphins fall to spoil and eat those which they killed in +the first shock and encounter. But after this service +performed, the dolphins retire not presently into the deep +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>236]</a></span> +again, from whence they were called, but stay until +to-morrow, as if they knew very well they had so carried +themselves as that they deserved a better reward than +one day’s refection and victuals; and therefore contented +they are not and satisfied unless to their fish they have +some sops and crumbs of bread given them soaked in +wine, and had their bellies full.’</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>237]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>MONKEY STORIES</i></h2> + + +<p>Before telling you more stories about monkeys, we must +tell you some dry facts about them, in order that you may +understand the stories. There are three different kinds +of monkeys—apes, baboons, and monkeys proper. The +difference is principally in their tails, so that when you +see them at the Zoo (for there are none wild in Europe, +except at Gibraltar), you will know them by the apes +having no tails and walking upright; baboons have short +tails and go on all fours; and monkeys have tails sometimes +longer than their whole bodies, by which they can +swing themselves from tree to tree. Apes and monkeys +are so ready to imitate everything which men do, that the +negroes believe that they are a lazy race of men, who will +not be at the trouble to work. Baboons, on the contrary, +can be taught almost nothing.</p> + +<p>There are two kinds of apes, called oran otans and +chimpanzees. They are both very wild and fierce, and +difficult to catch, but, when caught, become not only tame, +but very affectionate, and can be taught anything. Nearly +two hundred years ago, in 1698, one was brought to +London that had been caught in Angola. On board ship +he became very fond of the people who took care of him, +and was very gentle and affectionate, but would have nothing +to do with some monkeys who were on the same +ship. He had had a suit of clothes made for him, probably +to keep him warm. As the ship got into colder +regions he took great pleasure in dressing himself in them, +and anything he could not put on for himself he used to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>238]</a></span> +bring in his paw to one of the sailors, and seem to ask him +to dress him. He had a bed to sleep in, and at night used +to put his head on the pillow and tuck himself in like a +human being. His story is unfortunately a short one, for +he died soon after coming to London. He could not long +survive the change from his native forests to the cage of +a menagerie.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 416px;"> +<a name="illo41" id="illo41"></a> +<img src="images/asb01.jpg" width="416" height="360" +alt="Two oran otans sitting on the deck of a ship" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">TWO ORAN OTANS</p> + +<p>Another, a female, was brought to Holland nearly a +hundred years later, in 1776, but she, too, pined and died +after seven months’ captivity. She was very gentle and +affectionate, and became so fond of her keeper that when +they left her alone, she used to throw herself on the ground +screaming, and tearing in pieces anything in her reach, +just like a naughty child. She could behave as well as +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>239]</a></span> +any lady in the land when she liked. When asked out to +tea, she used to bring a cup and saucer, put sugar in the +cup, pour out the tea, and leave it to cool; and at dinner +her manners were just as good. She used her knife and +fork, table napkin, and even toothpick, as if she had been +accustomed to them all her life, which, of course, in her +native forest was far from being the case. She learnt all +her nice habits either from watching people at table, or +from her keeper’s orders. She was fond of strawberries, +which she ate very daintily, on a fork, holding the plate in +the other hand. She was particularly fond of wine, and +drank it like a human being, holding the glass in her hand. +She was better behaved than two other oran otans, who, +though they could behave as well at table as any lady, and +could use their knives and forks and glasses, and could +make the cabin boy (for it was on board ship) understand +what they wanted, yet, if he did not attend to them at +once, they used to throw him down, seize him by the arm, +and bite him.</p> + +<p>A French priest had an oran otan that he had brought +up from a baby, and who was so fond of his master that +he used to follow him about like a dog. When the priest +went to church he used to lock the oran otan up in a room; +but one day he got out, and, as sometimes happens with +dogs, who cannot get reconciled to Sunday, he followed +his master to church. He managed, without the priest’s +seeing him, to climb on the sounding board above the +pulpit, where he lay quite still till the sermon began. +He then crept forward till he could see his master in the +pulpit below, and imitated every one of his movements, +till the congregation could not keep from laughing. The +priest thought they were making fun of him, and was +naturally very angry. The more angry he became the +more gestures he used, every one of which the ape overhead +repeated. At last a friend of the priest stood up in +the congregation, and pointed out the real culprit. When +the priest looked up and saw the imitation of himself, he +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>240]</a></span> +could not keep from laughing either, and the service could +not go on till the disturber had been taken down and +locked up again at home.</p> + +<p>Another kind is called the Barbary ape, because they +are found in such numbers in Barbary that the trees in +places seem nearly covered with them, though there are +quantities as well in India and Arabia. They are very +mischievous and great fighters. In India the natives sometimes +amuse themselves by getting up a fight among them. +They put down at a little distance from each other baskets +of rice, with stout sticks by each basket, and then they go +off and hide themselves among the trees to watch the fun. +The apes come down from the trees in great numbers, +and make as though they were going to attack the baskets, +but lose courage and draw back grinning at each other. +The females are generally the boldest, and the first to +seize on the food; but as soon as they put their heads +down to eat, some of the males set-to to drive them off. +Others attack them in their turn. They all seize on the +sticks, and soon a free fight begins, which ends in the +weakest being driven off into the woods, and the conquerors +enjoying the spoil. They are not only fierce but +revengeful, and will punish severely any person who kills +one of them. Some English people who were driving +through a country full of these apes in the East Indies, +wished, out of sheer wantonness, to have one shot. The +native servants, knowing what the consequences would +be, were afraid; but, as their masters insisted, they had +to obey, and shot a female whose little ones were clinging +to her neck. She fell dead from the branches, and the +little ones, falling with her, were killed too. Immediately +all the other apes, to the number of about sixty, came +down and attacked the carriage. They would certainly +have killed the travellers if the servants, of whom there +was fortunately a number, had not driven the apes off; +and though the carriage set off as fast as the horses could +lay legs to the ground, the apes followed for three miles.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>241]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 404px;"> +<a name="illo42" id="illo42"></a> +<img src="images/asb42.jpg" width="404" height="540" +alt="The baboons eat as the man looks on" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE BABOONS WHO STOLE THE POOR MAN’S DINNER</p> + +<p><em>Baboons</em> are as ugly, revolting creatures as you could +wish to see, and very fierce, so they can seldom be tamed +nor even caught. There are, of course, few stories about +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>242]</a></span> +them. When people try to catch them, they let their +pursuers come so near that they think they have them, +and then they bound away ten paces at once, and look +down defiantly from the tree-top as much as to say, ‘Don’t +you wish you may get me?’ One baboon had so wearied +his pursuers by his antics that they pointed a gun at him, +though with no intention of firing. He had evidently +seen a gun before, and knew its consequences, and was +so frightened at the bare idea, that he fell down senseless +and was easily captured. When he came to himself again +he struggled so fiercely that they had to tie his paws +together, and then he bit so that they had to tie his +jaws up.</p> + +<p>Baboons are great thieves, and come down from the +mountains in great bodies to plunder gardens. They cram +as much fruit as they possibly can into their cheek pouches +to take away and eat afterwards at their leisure. They +always set a sentinel to give the alarm. When he sees +anyone coming, he gives a yell that lasts a minute, and +then the whole troop sets off helter-skelter.</p> + +<p>They will rob anyone they come upon alone in the +most impudent way. They come softly up behind, snatch +away anything they can lay their hands on, and then run +off a little way and sit down. Very often it is the poor +man’s dinner that they devour before his eyes. Sometimes +they will hold it out in their hands and pretend +they are going to give it back, in such a comic way that I +would defy you not to laugh, though it were your own +dinner that had been snatched away and then offered to +you.</p> + +<p><em>Monkeys</em> live in the tree-tops of the forests of India +and South Africa, where they keep up a constant chattering +and gambolling, all night as well as all day, playing games +and swinging by their tails from tree to tree. One kind, +the four-fingered monkey, can pass from one high tree-top +to another, too far even for a monkey to jump, by making +themselves into a chain, joined to each other by their tails. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>243]</a></span> +They can even cross rivers in this way. There are any +number of different kinds of monkeys, as you can see any +day in the monkey house at the Zoo. One kind is well +named the howling monkey, because they howl in chorus +every morning two hours before daylight, and again at +nightfall. The noise they make is so fearful that, if you +did not know, you would think it was a forest full of ferocious +beasts quite near, thirsting for their prey, instead of +harmless monkeys a mile or two away. There is always +a leader of the chorus, who sits on a high branch above +the others. He first howls a solo, and then gives a signal +for the others to join in; then they all howl together, till +he gives another signal to stop.</p> + +<p>The egret monkeys are great thieves. When they set +to work to rob a field of millet, they put as many stalks +as they can carry in their mouths, in each paw, and under +each arm, and then go off home on their hind legs. If +pursued, and obliged for greater speed to go on all their +four legs, they drop what they carry in their paws, but +never let go what they have in their mouths. The Chinese +monkey is also a great thief, and even cleverer about +carrying away his booty. They always set a sentinel on +a high tree; when he sees anyone coming, he screams +‘Houp, houp, houp!’ The others then seize as much as +they can carry in their right arm, and set off on three legs. +They are called Chinese, not because they come from +China, but because the way the hair grows on their heads +is like a Chinese cap. It is long and parts in the middle, +spreading out all round.</p> + +<p>In many parts of India monkeys are worshipped by +the natives, and temples are erected for them. But monkeys +of one tribe are never allowed to come into any of +these sanctuaries when another tribe is already in possession. +A large strong monkey was once seen by some +travellers to steal into one of these temples; as soon as +the inhabitants saw that he did not belong to their tribe, +they set on him to drive him out. As he was only one +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>244]</a></span> +against many, though bigger and stronger than the others, +he saw that he had no chance, and bounded up to the top, +eleven stories high. As the temple ended in a little round +dome just big enough for himself, he was master of the +situation, and every monkey that ventured to climb up he +flung down to the bottom. When this had happened three +or four times, his enemies thought it best to let him alone, +and he stayed there in peace till it was dark and he could +slip away unseen.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>245]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>ECCENTRIC BIRD BUILDERS</i></h2> + +<p class="source">From Jones’ <i>Glimpses of Animal Life</i>.</p> + + +<p>Everybody knows how fond birds are of building their +nests in church, and if we come to think of it, it is a very +reasonable and sensible proceeding. Churches are so +quiet, and have so many dark out-of-the-way corners, +where no one would dream of poking, certainly not the +woman whose business it is to keep the church clean. +So the birds have the satisfaction of feeling that their +young are kept safe and warm while they are collecting +food for them, and there is always some open door or +window to enable the parents to fly in or out.</p> + +<p>But all birds have not the wisdom of the robins, and +swallows, and sparrows that have selected the church for +a home, and some of them have chosen very odd places +indeed wherein to build their nests and lay their eggs. +Hinges of doors, turning lathes, even the body of a dead +owl hung to a ring, have all been used as nurseries; but +perhaps the oddest spot of all to fix upon for a nest is the +outside of a railway carriage, especially when we remember +how often railway stations are the abode of cats, who +move safely about the big wheels, and even travel by +train when they think it necessary.</p> + +<p>Yet, in spite of all the drawbacks, railway carriages +remain a favourite place for nesting birds, and there is a +curious story of a pair of water-wagtails which built a +snug home underneath a third-class carriage attached to +a train which ran four times daily between Cosham and +Havant. The father does not seem to have cared about +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>246]</a></span> +railway travelling, which, to be sure, must appear a +wretched way of getting about to anything that has wings; +for he never went with the family himself, but spent the +time of their absence fluttering restlessly about the platform +to which the train would return. He was so plainly +anxious and unhappy about them, that one would have +expected that he would have insisted on some quieter +and safer place the following year when nesting time +came round again; but the mother apparently felt that +the situation had some very distinct advantages, for she +deliberately passed over every other spot that her mate +pointed out, and went back to her third-class carriage.</p> + +<p>Yet a railway carriage seems safety itself in comparison +with a London street lamp, where a fly-catcher’s +nest was found a few years ago. Composed as it was of +moss, hair, and dried grass, it is astonishing that it never +caught fire, but no doubt the great heat of the gas was +an immense help in hatching the five eggs which the +birds had laid.</p> + +<p>Those fly-catchers had built in a hollow iron ornament +on the top of the lamp, but some tomtits are actually +known to have chosen such a dangerous place as the spot +close to the burner of a paraffin street lamp. And even +when the paraffin was exchanged for gas, the birds did +not seem to mind, and would sit quite calmly on the nest, +while the lamplighter thrust his long stick past them to +put out the light.</p> + +<p>Birds reason in a different way from human beings, +for a letter-box would not commend itself to us as being +a very good place to bring up a family, with letters and +packages tumbling on to their heads every instant. A +pair of Scotch tomtits, however, thought otherwise, and +they made a comfortable little nest at the back of a +private letter-box, nailed on to the trunk of a tree in +Dumfriesshire. The postman soon found out what was +going on, but he took great pains not to disturb them, for +he was fond of birds, and was very curious to see what +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>247]</a></span> +the tomtits would do. What the tomtits did was to go +peacefully on with their nest, minding their own business, +and by-and-bye eight little eggs lay in the nest. By this +time the mother had got so used to the postman, that she +never even moved when he unlocked the door, only +giving his hand a friendly peck when he put it in to take +out the letters, and occasionally accepting some crumbs +which he held out to it. But no sooner did the little +birds break through their shells than the parents became +more difficult to deal with. They did not mind knocks +from letters for themselves, but they grew furiously angry +if the young ones ever were touched by so much as a +corner, and one day, when a letter happened to fall plump +on top of the nest, they tore it right to pieces. In fact, it +was in such a condition, that when the postman came as +usual to make his collection, he was obliged to take the +letter back to the people who had written it, for no Post +Office would have sent it off in such a state.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>248]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>THE SHIP OF THE DESERT</i></h2> + +<p class="source">From Burckhardt’s <i>Travels in Nubia</i>.</p> + + +<p>Of all animals under the sun, perhaps the very ugliest is +the camel; but life in the deserts of Africa and Arabia +could not go on at all without the constant presence of this +clumsy-looking creature. Some African tribes keep camels +entirely for the use of their milk and flesh; and it is +noticeable that these animals are much shyer and more +timid than their brothers in Syria and Arabia, who will +instantly come trotting up to any fresh camel that appears +on the scene, or obey the call of any Bedouin, even if he +is a stranger.</p> + +<p>In general, the camel is merely employed as a beast +of burden, and from this he gets his name of the ‘ship of +the desert.’ Like other ships, he sways from side to side, +and his awkward motion is apt to make his rider feel very +sick, till he gets accustomed to this way of travelling. +Camels are wonderfully strong and enduring animals, +and can stow up water within them for several days, +besides having an extraordinary power of smelling any +water or spring that is far beyond the reach of man’s eyes. +These qualities are naturally very valuable in the burning +deserts which stretch unbroken for hundreds of miles, +where everything looks alike, and the sun as he passes +across the heavens is the traveller’s only guide.</p> + +<p>Partly from fear of warlike tribes, which wander +through the deserts of Arabia and Nubia, and partly from +the help and protection which a large body can give, the +one to the other, it is the custom for merchants and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>249]</a></span> +travellers to band together and travel in great caravans +of men and camels. They try, if possible, to find some +well by which they can encamp, and every man fills his +own skins with water before starting afresh on his journey. +More quarrels arise about water than people who live in +countries with plenty of streams and rivers can have any +idea of. One man will sell his skinful to another at a +very high price, while if a traveller thinks he will be very +prudent and lay in a large store, the rest are certain to +take it from him directly their own supply runs short. +Foods they can do without on those burning plains, but +not water.</p> + +<p>Some of these misfortunes befel a traveller of the name +of Burckhardt, who left Switzerland in the opening years +of this century, to pass several years in Africa and the +East. After going through Syria, he began to make his +way up the Nile, and even penetrated as far as Nubia, +joining for that purpose a caravan of traders under the +leadership of a Ababde—an Arab race who from the +earliest days have been acknowledged to be the best +guides across the desert.</p> + +<p>Owing to the intense heat which prevails in those +countries, the marches always take place in the small +hours of the morning, and midnight seems to have been +the usual hour for the start. Very commonly the march +would continue for eleven hours, during which time the +men were only allowed to drink twice, while the asses, +who with the camels formed part of the caravan, were +put on half their allowance. Sometimes a detachment +was sent on to wells that were known to lie along the +route, to get everything ready for the rest when they +came up; but it often happened that the springs were so +choked up by drifting sand that no amount of digging +would free them. Then there was nothing for it but to +go on again.</p> + +<p>It was in the month of March that Burckhardt and +his companions had their hardest experience of the dreadful +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>250]</a></span> +desert thirst. The year had been drier than was +common even in Nubia, and even in the little oases or +fertile spots, most of the trees and acacias were withered +and dead. Hour after hour the travellers toiled on, and +soon the asses gave out, and their riders were forced to +walk over the scorching sand. Burckhardt had been a +little more careful of his stock of water than the other +members of the caravan, and for some days had cooked +no food or eaten anything but biscuits, so that he had been +able to spare a draught every now and then for his own +ass, and still had enough to last both of them for another +day. However, it was quite clear that unless water was +quickly found they must all die together, and a council +was held as to what was best to be done. The Ababde +chief’s advice was—and always had been—to send out a +company of ten or twelve of the strongest camels, to try +to make their way secretly to the Nile, through the +ranks of unfriendly Arab tribes encamped all along its +eastern shore.</p> + +<p>This was agreed upon; and about four in the afternoon +the little band set out, loaded with all the skins in the +caravan. The river was a ride of five or six hours distant; +so that many hours of dreadful suspense must pass before +the watchers left behind could know what was to be their +fate. Soon after sunset a few stragglers came in, who had +strayed from the principal band; but they had not reached +the river, and could give no news of the rest. As the night +wore on, several of the traders came to Burckhardt to beg +for a taste of the water he was believed to have stored up; +but he had carefully hidden what remained, and only +showed them his skins which were empty. Then the +camp gradually grew silent, and all sat and waited under +the stars for the verdict of life or death. It was three in +the morning when shouts were heard, and the camels, +refreshed by deep draughts of the Nile water, came along +at their utmost speed, bearing skins full enough for +many days’ journey. Only one man was missing; but +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>251]</a></span> +traders are a cruel race, and these cared nothing about his +fate, giving themselves up to feasting and song, and joy +at their deliverance.</p> + +<p>Yet only a year later, the fate that had almost overtaken +them befel a small body of merchants who set out +with their camels from Berber to Daraou. The direct +road, which led past the wells of Nedjeym, was known to +be haunted at that date by the celebrated robber Naym, +who waylaid every caravan from Berber; so the merchants +hired an Ababde guide to take them by a longer and more +easterly road, where there was another well at which they +could water. Unluckily the guide knew nothing of the +country that lay beyond, and the whole party soon lost +themselves in the mountains. For five days they wandered +about, not seeing a creature who could give them help, or +even direct them to the right path. Then, their water +being quite exhausted, they turned steadily westwards, +hoping by this means soon to reach the Nile. But the +river at this point takes a wide bend, and was, if they had +known it, further from them than before; and after two +days of dreadful agony, fifteen slaves and one merchant +died. In desperation, another merchant, who was an +Ababde, and owner of ten camels, had himself lashed firmly +on to the back of the strongest beast, lest in his weakness +he should fall off, and then ordered the whole herd to be +turned loose, thinking that perhaps the instinct of the +animals would succeed where the knowledge of man had +failed. But neither the Ababde nor his camels were ever +seen again.</p> + +<p>The merchants struggled forwards, and eight days after +leaving the well of Owareyk they arrived in sight of some +mountains which they knew; but it was too late, and +camels and merchants sank down helpless where they lay. +They had just strength to gasp out orders for two of their +servants to make their way on camels to the mountains +where water would be found, but long before the mountains +were reached, one of the men dropped off his camel and, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>252]</a></span> +unable to speak, waved his hands in farewell to his comrade. +The other mechanically rode on, but his eyes grew +dim and his head dizzy, and well though he knew the +road, he suffered his camel to wander from it. After +straying aimlessly about for some time, he dismounted +and lay down in the shade of a tree to rest, first tying +his camel to one of the branches. But a sudden puff +of wind brought the smell of the water to the camel’s +nostrils, and with a furious bound, he broke the noose +and galloped violently forward, and in half an hour was +sucking in deep draughts from a clear spring. The man, +understanding the meaning of the camel’s rush, rose up +and staggered a few steps after him, but fell to the ground +from sheer weakness. Just at that moment a wandering +Bedouin from a neighbouring camp happened to pass +that way, and seeing that the man still breathed, dashed +water in his face, and soon revived him. Then, laden +with skins of water, the two men set out for those left +behind, and hopeless though their search seemed to be, +they found they had arrived in time, and were able to +save them from a frightful death.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>253]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>‘HAME, HAME, HAME, WHERE I FAIN +WAD BE’</i></h2> + + +<p>Nothing in nature is more curious or more difficult of +explanation than the stories recorded of animals conveyed +to one place, finding their way back to their old home, +often many hundreds of miles away. Not very long ago, +a lady at St. Andrews promised to make a present to a +friend who lived somewhere north of Perth, of a fine cat +which she wished to part with. When the day arrived, +the cat was tied safely up in a hamper, put in charge of +the guard, and sent on its way. It was met at the station +by its new mistress, who drove it home, and gave it an +excellent supper and a comfortable bed. This was on +Friday. All Saturday it poked about, examining everything +as cats will, but apparently quite happy and content +with its quarters. About seven on Sunday morning, as +the lady drew up her blind to let in the sunshine, she saw +the new puss trotting down the avenue. She did not pay +much attention to the fact till the day went on, and the +cat, who generally had a good appetite, did not come in +to its meals. When Monday came, but the puss did not, +the lady wrote to her friend at St. Andrews saying she +feared that the cat had wandered away, but she would +make inquiries at all the houses round, and still hoped to +find it. On Tuesday evening loud mews were heard outside +the kitchen door of the St. Andrews house, and when +it was opened, in walked the cat, rather dirty and very +hungry, but otherwise not at all the worse for wear. Now +as anybody can see if he looks at the map, it is a long way +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>254]</a></span> +from St. Andrews to Perth, even as the crow flies. There +are also two big rivers which <em>must</em> be crossed, the Tay +and the Eden, or if the cat preferred coming by train, at +least two changes have to be made. So you have to +consider whether, granting it an instinct of <em>direction</em>, +which is remarkable enough in itself, the animal was +sufficiently strong to swim such large streams; or whether +it was so clever that it managed to find out the proper +trains for it to take, and the places where it must get out. +Any way, home it came, and was only two days on the +journey, and there it is still in St. Andrews, for its +mistress had not the heart to give it away a second time.</p> + +<p>Trains seem to have a special fascination for cats, +and they are often to be seen about stations. For a long +while one was regularly to be seen travelling on the +Metropolitan line, between St. James’s Park and Charing +Cross, and a whole family of half-wild kittens are at this +moment making a play-ground of the lines and platforms +at Paddington. One will curl up quite comfortably on the +line right under the wheel of a carriage that is just going +to start, and on being disturbed bolts away and hides +itself in some recess underneath the platform. Occasionally +you see one with part of its tail cut off, but as a rule +they take wonderfully good care of themselves. The +porters are very kind to them, and they somehow contrive +to get along, for they all look fat and well-looking, +and quite happy in their strange quarters.</p> + +<p>Of course cats are not the only animals who have what +is called the ‘homing instinct.’ Sheep have been known +to find their way back from Yorkshire to the moors north +of the Cheviots where they were born and bred, although +sheep are not clever beasts and they had come a roundabout +journey by train. But there are many such stories +of dogs, and one of the most curious is told by an English +officer who was in Paris in the year 1815. One day, as +the officer was walking hastily over the bridge, he was +annoyed by a muddy poodle dog rubbing up against him, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>255]</a></span> +and dirtying his beautifully polished boots. Now dirty +boots were his abhorrence, so he hastily looked round +for a shoe-black, and seeing one at a little distance off, at +once went up to him to have his boots re-blacked. A few +days later the officer was again crossing the bridge, when +a second time the poodle brushed against him and spoilt +his boots. Without thinking he made for the nearest +shoe-black, just as he had done before, and went on his +way; but when the same thing happened a third time, his +suspicions were aroused, and he resolved to watch. In a +few minutes he saw the dog run down to the river-side +and roll himself in the mud, and then come back to the +bridge and keep a sharp look-out for the first well-dressed +man who would be likely to repay his trouble. The officer +was so delighted with the poodle’s cleverness, that he +went at once to the shoe-black, who confessed that the +dog was his and that he had taught him this trick for the +good of trade. The officer then proposed to buy the dog, +and offered the shoe-black such a large sum that he agreed +to part with his ‘bread-winner.’</p> + +<p>So the officer, who was returning at once to England, +carried the dog, by coach and steamer to London, where +he tied him up for some time, in order that he should +forget all about his old life, and be ready to make himself +happy in the new one. When he was set free, however, +the poodle seemed restless and ill at ease, and after two +or three days he disappeared entirely. What he did then, +nobody knows, but a fortnight after he had left the +London house, he was found, steadily plying his old trade, +on the Pont Henri Quatre.</p> + +<p>A Northumbrian pointer showed a still more wonderful +instance of the same sagacity. He was the property of +one Mr. Edward Cook, who after paying a visit to his +brother, the owner of a large property in Northumberland, +set sail for America, taking the dog with him. They +travelled south together as far as Baltimore, where excellent +shooting was to be got; but after one or two days’ +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>256]</a></span> +sport the dog disappeared, and was supposed to have +lost itself in the woods. Months went by without +anything being known of the dog, when one night a dog +was heard howling violently outside the quiet Northumberland +house. It was admitted by the owner, Mr. +Cook, who to his astonishment recognised it as the pointer +which his brother had taken to America. They took care +of him till his master came back, and then they tried +to trace out his journey. But it was of no use. How the +pointer made its way through the forest, from what port +it started, and where it landed, remain a mystery to +this day.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>257]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>NESTS FOR DINNER</i></h2> + + +<p>However wonderful and beautiful nests may be, very +few English people would like to eat them; yet in China +the nest of a particular variety of swallow is prized as a +great delicacy.</p> + +<p>These nests are chiefly gathered from Java, Sumatra, +and other islands of the Malay Archipelago, and are +carried thence to China, where they fetch a large price. +Although, within certain limits, they are very plentiful, +they are very difficult and dangerous to get, for the +swallows build in the depths of large and deep caverns, +mostly on the seashore, and the men have to be let +down from above by ropes, or descend on ladders of +bamboo. In Java, so many men have lost their lives in +nest gathering, that in some parts a regular religious +ceremony is held, twice or three times a year, before the +expedition is undertaken; prayers are said, and a bull +is sacrificed.</p> + +<p>It is not easy to know what the nests are really made +of, because from the time that Europeans first noticed the +trade—about two hundred years ago—they have differed +among themselves in their accounts of the jelly-like +substance used by the swallows. Some naturalists have +thought it is the spawn of the fish, which floats thickly +on the surface of these seas; others, that it is a kind of +deposit of dried sea foam gathered by the birds from the +beach, while others again think that the substance is +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>258]</a></span> +formed of sea plants chewed by the birds into a jelly; +but, whatever it may be, the Chinese infinitely prefer nests +to oysters +or anything +else, and are +willing to +pay highly +for them.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 293px;"> +<a name="illo43" id="illo43"></a> +<img src="images/asb43.jpg" width="293" height="575" +alt="Bird's nests for dinner" /> +</div> + +<p>The nests, +which take +about two +months to +build, are always +found +to be of two +sorts: an oblong one just +fitted to the body of the +male bird, and a rounder +one for the mother and +her eggs. The most +valuable nests are those +which are whitest, and +these generally belong to +the male; they are very +thin, and finely worked. +The birds are small and +feed chiefly on insects, which are +abundant on these islands; their +colour is grey, and they are wonderfully +quick in their movements, like +the humming birds, which are about +their own size. They are sociable, +and build in swarms, but they seldom +lay more than two eggs, which take +about a fortnight to hatch.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>259]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>FIRE-EATING DJIJAM</i></h2> + + +<p>Some curious notes about walking unharmed through +fire, in the November (1894) number of ‘Longman’s +Magazine,’ under the heading ‘At the Sign of the Ship,’ +suggested that a record might be kept of Djijam’s +eccentricities, especially as they differed somewhat from +those of most other dogs. Anyone accustomed to animals +knows, and anyone who is not can imagine, that dogs differ +as much in their behaviour and ways as human beings. +Djijam was as unlike any dog I have ever had, seen, or +heard of, as could be. My wife, who is a patient and successful +instructor of animals, never managed to teach him +anything, any attempt to impart usual or unusual accomplishments +being met with the most absolute, impenetrable +idiocy, which no perseverance could conquer or diminish +in the least degree. That this extreme stupidity was +really assumed is now pretty clear, though at the time it +was attributed to natural density.</p> + +<p>It was at Christmas-tide, about two years ago, that +my wife and I drove over to a village some few miles +away, to choose one of a litter of four fox-terrier pups, +which we heard were on sale at a livery stable. We found +the mother of the lively litter almost overpowered by her +boisterous progeny, who though nearly three months old +had not yet found other homes. Without any particular +objection on the part of the parent we examined the pups, +and selected and brought away one which seemed to have +better points than the rest, whom we left to continue their +gambols in the straw, unconscious probably that any other +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>260]</a></span> +means of warming themselves were possible. The journey +home was accomplished with the customary puppish endeavors +to escape restraint. The same evening, after the +servants had retired to bed, Master Djijam was placed in +the kitchen, out of harm’s way as it was thought. The +last thing at night we went to inspect the little animal, +and could not at first discover his whereabouts. When a +thing is lost it is customary to hunt about in unlikely +places, so we looked into the high cinder-box under the +kitchener, and found the object of our search comfortably +curled up directly under the red-hot fire. It was fairly +warm work fishing him out.</p> + +<p>For another reason, not connected with heat, he was +subsequently christened Djijam, a truly oriental name, +which some of our friends think may have helped to develop +his original taste for fire.</p> + +<p>When Djijam was about six months old we observed +that he frequently jumped up to people who were seated +smoking. This induced a humorous friend one day to +offer him the lighted end of a cigarette, which Djijam +promptly seized in his mouth and extinguished. After +that triumph Djijam usually watched for, and plainly +demanded the lighted fag ends of cigarettes and cigars, so +that his might be the satisfaction of finishing them off. +This led to lighted matches being offered to him, which +he eagerly took in his mouth, and if wax vestas, swallowed +as a welcome addition to his ordinary diet. From matches +to lighted candles was an easy step, and these he rapidly +extinguished with great gusto as often as they were presented +to him. He would also attack lighted oil lamps if +placed on the floor, but they puzzled him, and defied his +efforts to bite or breathe them out. A garden bonfire +used to drive him wild with delight, and snatching brands +from the fire, indoors or out, was a delirious joy. My wife +discovered him once in the full enjoyment of a large +lighted log on the dining-room carpet. Red-hot cinders +he highly relished, though in obtaining them he frequently +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261"><!-- original location of Dining-room illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>263]</a></span> +singed off his moustaches. Perhaps the oddest of his +fiery tricks was performed one day when he wished the +cook to hand him some dainty morsel on which she +chanced to be operating. This was against the rules, as +he well knew, so she declined to accept the hint. Djijam +was at once provoked to anger and cast round for some +way of obtaining compensation, at the same time hoping, +perhaps, to retaliate. He naturally went for the kitchen +fire, out of which he drew a red-hot cinder and carried it +in his mouth across the kitchen, through a small lobby +into the scullery, to his box-bed, into the straw of which +he must have speedily dropped the live coal, and jumped +in after it. Soon after, the cook smelt wood burning and +searched the lower part of the house lest anything were +afire. Finding nothing wrong, she last of all visited the +scullery, and found Djijam enjoying the warmth of his +smouldering straw bed and wooden box.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="illo44" id="illo44"></a> +<img src="images/asb44.jpg" width="600" height="414" +alt="Djijam pulls a log out of the fire" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">‘IN THE FULL ENJOYMENT OF A LARGE LIGHTED LOG ON THE DINING-ROOM CARPET’</p> + +<p>Alas, Djijam grew snappish even to his best friends, +and although it was suggested that he might be found +an engagement on the Variety stage of the Westminster +Aquarium, as a fire-eating hound, it was reluctantly decided +that he should go the way of all flesh. I am sure +if he had been asked, he would in some way have indicated +that he preferred cremation to any other mode of disposal. +But it was not to be, yet it was a melancholy satisfaction +to learn that his end was peaceful though commonplace.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>264]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>THE STORY OF THE DOG OSCAR</i></h2> + + +<p>In the north-west of Scotland there is a very pretty loch +which runs far up into the land. On one side great hills—almost +mountains—slope down into the water, while on the +opposite side there is a little village, with the road along +which the houses straggle, almost part of the loch shore. +At low tide, banks of beautiful golden seaweed are left at +the edges of the water, and on this seaweed huge flocks +of sea-gulls come and feed.</p> + +<p>A few years ago there lived in this village a minister +who had a collie-dog named Oscar. He lived all alone in +his little cottage, and as Jean, the woman who looked +after him, was a very talkative person, by no means congenial +to him. Oscar was his constant companion and +friend.</p> + +<p>He seemed to understand all that was said to him, and +in his long, lonely walks across the hills, it cheered him +to have Oscar trotting quietly and contentedly beside him. +And when he came home from visiting sick people, and +going to places where he could not take Oscar, he would +look forward to seeing the soft brown head thrust out of +the door, peering into the darkness, ready to welcome +him as soon as he should come in sight.</p> + +<p>One of Oscar’s favourite games was to go down to the +shore when the tide was low, and with his head thrown up +and his tail straight out, he would run at the flocks of +gulls feeding on the seaweed, and scatter them in the air, +making them look like a cloud of large white snow-flakes. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265"><!-- original location of Rout illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>267]</a></span> +In a minute or two the gulls would settle down again to +their meal, and again Oscar would charge and rout them.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="illo45" id="illo45"></a> +<img src="images/asb45.jpg" width="600" height="360" +alt="Oscar chases after the gulls" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">‘OSCAR WOULD CHARGE AND ROUT THEM’</p> + +<p>This little manœuvre of his would be repeated many +times, till a long clear whistle was heard from the road +by the loch. Then the gulls might finish their supper in +peace, for Oscar’s master had called him, and now he was +walking quietly along by his side, looking as if there were +no such things in the world as gulls.</p> + +<p>‘No, Oscar, lad! Not to-day! not to-day!’ said the +minister one afternoon, as he put on his hat and coat and +took his stick from the dog who always fetched it when +he saw preparations being made for a walk.</p> + +<p>‘I can’t take you with me; you must stay in the +paddock. No run by the loch this afternoon, lad. ’Tis +too long, and you are not so strong as you were. We +are growing old together, Oscar.’</p> + +<p>The dog watched his master till he disappeared over +the little bridge and up the glen, and then he went and +lay down by the paling which surrounded the bit of field. +Jean soon went out to a friend’s house to have a little +gossip, and Oscar was left alone.</p> + +<p>He felt rather forlorn. Across the road he heard the +distant splashing of the waves as they ran angrily up the +beach of the loch, and the whistling of the wind down the +glen.</p> + +<p>He watched the grey clouds scudding away overhead, +and he envied the children he heard playing in the street, +or racing after the tourist coach on its way up the Pass.</p> + +<p>He began to feel drowsy.</p> + +<p>‘The gulls will be feeding on the banks now! How I +wish ...’ and his eyes closed, and he dreamt a nice +dream, that he was dashing along through shallow pools +of water towards the white chattering flock, when—what +was this in front of him? White feathers! Two gulls! +Was he dreaming still? No the gulls were real! What +luck! He could not go to the gulls, so the gulls had come +to him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>268]</a></span> +In a moment he was wide awake, and made a rush at +the two birds who were gazing at him inquiringly with +their heads on one side. But after two or three rushes, +‘What stupid gulls these are!’ thought Oscar. ‘They +can scarcely fly.’</p> + +<p>And, indeed, the birds seemed to have great difficulty +in lifting themselves off the ground, and appeared to grow +more and more feeble after each of Oscar’s onslaughts. +At last one of them fell.</p> + +<p>‘Lazy creature! you have had too much dinner! Up +you get!’</p> + +<p>But the gull lay down gasping.</p> + +<p>Oscar made for the other. Why, that was lying down +too! He went to the first one. It was quite still and +motionless, and after one or two more gasps its companion +was the same.</p> + +<p>Oscar felt rather frightened. Was it possible that he +had killed them? What would his master say? How +was he to tell him it was quite a mistake? That he had +only been in fun? He must put the gulls out of sight.</p> + +<p>He dragged them to one side of the cottage where the +minister used to try every year to grow a few cherished +plants, and there in the loose earth he dug a grave for the +birds.</p> + +<p>Then he went back to his old place, and waited for +his master’s return.</p> + +<p>When the minister came back, for the first time in his +life, Oscar longed to be able to speak and tell him all +that had happened. How could he without speech explain +that the death of the birds was an accident—an +unfortunate accident?</p> + +<p>He felt that without an explanation it was no use +unearthing the white forms in the border.</p> + +<p>‘Sir, sir!’ cried Jean, putting her head in at the door. +‘Here’s Widow McInnes come to see you. She’s in sore +trouble.’</p> + +<p>The minister rose and went to the door.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>269]</a></span> +‘Stay here, Oscar,’ he said, for Widow McInnes was +not fond of Oscar.</p> + +<p>In a few minutes the minister came back.</p> + +<p>He patted Oscar’s soft head.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 424px;"> +<a name="illo46" id="illo46"></a> +<img src="images/asb46.jpg" width="424" height="440" +alt="Oscar looks at the two dead white pigeons" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">‘OSCAR FELT RATHER FRIGHTENED’</p> + +<p>‘She wanted to accuse thee, Oscar lad, of killing the +two white pigeons which her son sent her yesterday from +the south, and which escaped this afternoon from their +cage. As if you would touch the bairnies, as the poor +woman calls them! Eh, lad?’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>270]</a></span> +Oscar wagged his tail gratefully. Then in a sudden +flash it came upon him that he <em>had</em> killed the pigeons. +Now he saw the birds were pigeons, not gulls, and, worse +than killing them, he had, all unknowingly, told his master +a lie; and he could not undo it. He whined a little as if +in pain, and moved slowly out of the room. The minister +sat on, deep in thought, and then went outside the house +to see the sunset. Great bands of thick grey cloud +wrapped the hill-tops in their folds, and lay in long bands +across the slopes, while here and there in the rifts were +patches of pale lemon-coloured sky. The loch waters +heaved sullenly against the shore. The minister looked +away from the sunset, and his eye fell on a little mound +in the bed by the cottage.</p> + +<p>‘What did I plant there?’ he thought, and began +poking it with his stick.</p> + +<p>‘Oscar, Oscar!’</p> + +<p>Oscar was bounding down the path. He had just +determined to unbury the pigeons and bring them to his +master, and, even if he received a beating, his master +would know he had not meant to deceive.</p> + +<p>But now, hearing the call, and the tone of the minister’s +voice, he knew it was too late. He stopped, and then +crept slowly towards that tall black figure standing in the +twilight, with the two white pigeons lying at his feet.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, Oscar, Oscar lad, what <em>have</em> you done?’</p> + +<p>At that moment a boy came running to the gate.</p> + +<p>‘Ye’ll be the minister that Sandy Johnston is speiring +after. He says, “Fetch the minister, and bid him come +quick.”’</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 402px;"> +<a name="illo47" id="illo47"></a> +<img src="images/asb47.jpg" width="402" height="600" +alt="Oscar's master finds the buried pigeons" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">‘OH, OSCAR, OSCAR LAD, WHAT <em>HAVE</em> YOU DONE?’</p> + +<p>The minister gave a few directions to Jean, and in a +moment or two was ready to go with the boy. It was +a long row to the head of the loch, and a long walk to +reach the cottage where Sandy Johnston lay dying. The +minister stayed with him for two nights, till he seemed +to need his help no more, and then started off to come +home. But while he was being rowed along the loch, a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271"><!-- original location of Oscar illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>273]</a></span> +fierce snowstorm came on. The boat made but little way, +and they were delayed two or three hours. Cold and +tired, the minister thought with satisfaction of his warm +fireside, with Oscar lying down beside his cosy chair. +Then, for the first time since it had happened, he thought +of the pigeons, and he half smiled as he recalled Oscar’s +downcast face as he came up the path.</p> + +<p>With quick steps he hurried along the street from the +landing-place. The snow was being blown about round +him, and the night was fast closing in. He was quite +near his own gate now, and he looked up, expecting to +see the familiar brown head peering out of the door for +him; but there was no sign of it.</p> + +<p>He opened the gate and strode in. Still no Oscar to +welcome him.</p> + +<p>‘Jean, Jean!’ he called. Jean appeared from the +kitchen, and even in the firelight he could see traces of +tears on her rough face.</p> + +<p>‘Where is Oscar?’</p> + +<p>‘Ah, sir, after ye were gone wi’ the lad, he wouldna’ +come into the house, and wouldna’ touch a morsel o’ food. +He lay quite still in the garden, and last night he died. +An’ it’s my belief, sir, he died of a broken heart, because +ye did na’ beat him after killing the pigeons, and he +couldna’ make it up wi’ ye.’</p> + +<p>And the minister thought so, too; and when Jean was +gone, he sat down by his lonely fireside and buried his +face in his hands.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>274]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>DOLPHINS AT PLAY</i></h2> + + +<p>For some reason or other, dolphins, those queer great +fish that always seem to be at play, have been subjects for +many stories. Pliny himself has told several, and his old +translator’s words are so strange, that, as far as possible, +we will tell the tale as he tells it.</p> + +<p>‘In the days of Augustus Cæsar, the Emperor,’ says +Pliny, ‘there was a dolphin entered the gulf or pool +Lucrinus, which loved wondrous well a certain boy, a +poor man’s son; who using to go every day to school +from Baianum to Puteoli, was wont also about noon-tide +to stay at the water side and call unto the dolphin, +“Simo, Simo,” and many times would give him fragments +of bread, which of purpose he ever brought with him, and +by this means allured the dolphin to come ordinarily unto +him at his call. Well, in process of time, at what hour +soever of the day this boy lured for him and called +“Simo,” were the dolphin never so close hidden in any +secret and blind corner, out he would and come abroad, +yea, and scud amain to this lad, and taking bread and +other victuals at his hand, would gently offer him his +back to mount upon, and then down went the sharp-pointed +prickles of his fins, which he would put up as it +were within a sheath for fear of hurting the boy. Thus, +when he once had him on his back, he would carry him +over the broad arm of the sea as far as Puteoli to school, +and in like manner convey him back again home; and +thus he continued for many years together, so long as the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275"><!-- original location of Dolphin illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>277]</a></span> +child lived. But when the boy was fallen sick and dead +yet the dolphin gave not over his haunt, but usually came +to the wonted place, and missing the lad seemed to be +heavy and mourn again, until for very grief and sorrow +he also was found dead upon the shore.’</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="illo48" id="illo48"></a> +<img src="images/asb48.jpg" width="600" height="334" +alt="The dolphin carries the boy across the water" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE BOY GOES TO SCHOOL ON THE DOLPHIN’S BACK</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>278]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>THE STARLING OF SEGRINGEN</i></h2> + +<p class="source">Translated from the German of Johann Peter Hebel.</p> + + +<p>In a little German village in Suabia, there lived a barber, +who combined the business of hair-cutting and shaving +with that of an apothecary; he also sold good brandy, so +that he had no lack of customers, not to speak of those +who merely wished to pass an hour in gossiping.</p> + +<p>Not the least of the attractions, however, was a tame +starling, named Hansel, who had been taught to speak, +and had learnt many sayings which he overheard, either +from his master, the barber, or from the idlers who +gathered about the shop. His master especially had some +favourite sayings, or catchwords, such as, ‘Truly, I am +the barber of Segringen’—for this is the name of the +village—‘As heaven will,’ ‘By keeping bad company,’ +and the like; and these were most familiar to the +starling.</p> + +<p>Everybody for miles round had at least heard of +Hansel, and many came on purpose to see him and hear +him talk, for Hansel would often interpose a word into +the conversation, which came in very aptly.</p> + +<p>But it happened one day, Hansel’s wings—which had +been cut—having grown again, that he thought to himself: +‘I have now learnt so much, I may go out and see the +world.’ And when nobody was looking, whirr!—away he +went out of the window.</p> + +<p>Seeing a flock of birds, he joined them, thinking: +‘They know the country better than I.’</p> + +<p>But alas! this knowledge availed them little, for all +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>279]</a></span> +of them, with Hansel, fell into a snare which had been +laid by a fowler, who soon came to see what was in his +net. Putting in his hand, he drew out one prisoner after +another, callously wringing their necks one by one.</p> + +<p>But suddenly, when he was stretching out his murderous +fingers to seize another victim, this one cried out: +‘I am the barber of Segringen!’</p> + +<p>The man almost fell backwards with astonishment +and fright, believing he had to do with a sorcerer at least; +but presently recovering himself a little, he remembered +the starling, and said: ‘Eh, Hansel, is it you! How did +you come into the net?’</p> + +<p>‘By keeping bad company,’ replied Hansel.</p> + +<p>‘And shall I carry you home again?’</p> + +<p>‘As heaven will,’ replied the starling.</p> + +<p>Then the fowler took him back to the barber, and +related the manner of his capture, receiving a good reward.</p> + +<p>The barber also reaped a fine harvest, for more people +came to his shop on purpose to see the clever bird, who +had saved his life by his ready tongue.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>280]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>GRATEFUL DOGS</i></h2> + +<p class="source">From ‘Das Echo,’ June 8, 1895. Letter to the editor, signed +G. M., Mexico, purporting to be an extract from a letter of his brother +in Nebraska. I have translated and recast it.</p> + + +<p>A farmer in Nebraska—one of the Western States of +North America—possessed two dogs, a big one called +Fanny, and a small one who was named Jolly. One +winter day the farmer went for a walk and took with him +his two pets; they came to a brook that ran through the +farm, and was now frozen up.</p> + +<p>Fanny crossed it without much ado, but Jolly, who +was always afraid of water, distrusted the ice, and refused +to follow. Fanny paused at the other side, and barked +loudly to induce her companion to come, but Jolly pretended +not to understand.</p> + +<p>Then Fanny ran back to him, and tried to explain that +it was quite safe, but in vain, Jolly only looked after his +master, and whimpered; upon which, Fanny, losing +patience, seized him by the collar, and dragged him over.</p> + +<p>For this kindness Jolly showed himself grateful some +time afterwards.</p> + +<p>Fanny, greedy creature, was fond of fresh eggs. When +she heard a hen cackle she always ran to look for the +nest, and one day she discovered one under the fruit-shed. +But, alas! she could not get the beloved dainty +because she was too large to go under the shed. Looking +very pensive and thoughtful, she went away, and soon +returned with Jolly, bringing him just before the hole.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>281]</a></span> +Jolly, however, was stupid and did not understand; +Fanny put her head in, and then her paws, without being +able, with all her efforts, to reach the egg; the smaller +dog, seeing that there was something in the hole, went +in to look, but not caring for eggs, came out empty-handed.</p> + +<p>Thereupon Fanny looked at him in such a sad and +imploring way, that her master, who was watching them, +could scarcely suppress his laughter.</p> + +<p>At last Jolly seemed to understand what was wanted; +he went under the shed again, brought out the egg, and +put it before Fanny, who ate it with great satisfaction, +and then both dogs trotted off together.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>282]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>GAZELLE</i><br /> +<br /> +<span class="vsmlfont">PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF A TORTOISE</span></h2> + + +<p>Alexandre Dumas, in whose book, as I told you, I read +the story of Tom the Bear, as well as those of other +animals, was one day walking past the shop of a large +fishmonger in Paris. As he glanced through the window +he saw an Englishman in the shop holding a tortoise, +which he was turning about in his hands. Dumas felt an +instant conviction that the Englishman proposed to make +the tortoise into turtle soup, and he was so touched by +the air of patient resignation of the supposed victim that +he entered the shop, and with a sign to the shopwoman +asked whether she had kept the tortoise for him which he +had bespoken.</p> + +<p>The shopwoman (who had known Dumas for many +years) understood with half a word, and gently slipping +the tortoise out of the Englishman’s grasp, she handed it +to Dumas, saying, ‘Pardon, milord, the tortoise was sold +to this gentleman this morning.’</p> + +<p>The Englishman seemed surprised, but left the shop +without remonstrating, and Dumas had nothing left for it +but to pay for his tortoise and take it home.</p> + +<p>As he carried his purchase up to his rooms on the +third floor he wondered what could have possessed him +to buy it, and what on earth he was to do with it now he +had got it. It was certainly a remarkable tortoise, for +the moment he put it down on the floor of his bedroom it +started off for the fireplace at such a pace as to earn for +itself the name of ‘Gazelle.’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>283]</a></span> +Once near the fire, Gazelle settled herself in the +warmest corner she could find, and went to sleep.</p> + +<p>Dumas, who wished to go out again and was afraid of +his new possession coming to any harm, called his servant +and said: ‘Joseph, whilst I am out you must look after +this creature.’</p> + +<p>Joseph approached with some curiosity. ‘Ah!’ he +remarked, ‘why, it’s a tortoise; that creature could bear +a carriage on its back.’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, yes, no doubt it might, but I beg you won’t try +any experiments with it.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, it wouldn’t hurt it,’ assured Joseph, who enjoyed +showing off his information. ‘The Lyons diligence might +drive over it without hurting it.’</p> + +<p>‘Well,’ replied his master, ‘I believe the great sea +turtle <em>might</em> bear such a weight, but I doubt whether this +small variety——’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, <em>that’s</em> of no consequence,’ interrupted Joseph; +‘it’s as strong as a horse, and small though it is, a cartload +of stones might pass——’</p> + +<p>‘Very good, very good; never mind that now. Just +buy the creature a lettuce and some snails.’</p> + +<p>‘Snails! why, is its chest delicate?’</p> + +<p>‘No, why on earth do you ask such a thing?’</p> + +<p>‘Well, my last master used to take an infusion of +snails for his chest—not that it prevented——’</p> + +<p>Dumas left the room without waiting for the end. +Before he was half-way downstairs he found that he had +forgotten his handkerchief, and on returning surprised +Joseph standing on Gazelle’s back, gracefully poised on +one leg, with the other out-stretched behind him in such +a way that not an ounce of his eleven-stone weight was +lost on the poor creature.</p> + +<p>‘Idiot! what are you about?’</p> + +<p>‘There, sir, didn’t I say so?’ rejoined Joseph, proudly.</p> + +<p>‘There, there, give me a handkerchief and mind you +don’t touch that creature again.’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>284]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 389px;"> +<a name="illo49" id="illo49"></a> +<img src="images/asb49.jpg" width="389" height="575" +alt="Joseph balances precariously on one leg" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">DUMAS FINDS JOSEPH STANDING ON GAZELLE’S BACK</p> + +<p>‘There, sir,’ said the irrepressible Joseph, bringing the +handkerchief. ‘But indeed you need not be at all afraid; +a waggon could drive over——’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>285]</a></span> +Dumas fled.</p> + +<p>He returned rather late at night, and no sooner took +a step into his room than he felt something crack under +his boot. He hastily raised his foot and took a further +step with the same result: he thought he must be treading +on eggs. He lowered his candlestick—the carpet was +covered with snails.</p> + +<p>Joseph had obeyed orders literally. He had bought +the lettuces and the snails, had placed them all in a basket +and Gazelle on the top, and then put the basket in the +middle of his master’s bedroom. Ten minutes later the +warmth of the fire thawed the snails into animation, and +the entire caravan set forth on a voyage of discovery round +the room, leaving silvery tracks behind them on carpet and +furniture.</p> + +<p>As for Gazelle, she was quietly reposing at the bottom +of the basket, where a few empty shells proved that all +the fugitives had not been brisk enough to make their +escape.</p> + +<p>Dumas, feeling no fancy for a possible procession of +snails over his bed, carefully picked up the stragglers one +by one, popped them back into the basket, and shut down +the lid. But in five minutes’ time he realised that sleep +would be out of the question with the noise going on, +which sounded like a dozen mice in a bag of nuts. He +decided to move the basket to the kitchen.</p> + +<p>On the way there it occurred to him that if Gazelle +went on at this rate she would certainly die of indigestion +before morning. He remembered that the owner of the +restaurant on the ground floor had a tank in the back +yard where he often put fish to keep till wanted, and it +struck him that the tank would be the very place for his +tortoise. He at once put his idea into execution, got back +to his room and to bed, and slept soundly till morning.</p> + +<p>Joseph woke him early.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, sir, such a joke!’ he exclaimed, standing at the +foot of the bed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>286]</a></span> +‘What joke?’</p> + +<p>‘Why, what your tortoise has been up to!’</p> + +<p>‘What on earth do you mean?’</p> + +<p>‘Well, sir, could you believe that it got out of your +room—goodness knows how—and walked downstairs and +right into the tank?’</p> + +<p>‘You owl! you might have guessed I put it there +myself.’</p> + +<p>‘Did you indeed, sir? Well, you certainly <em>have</em> made +a mess of it then.’</p> + +<p>‘How so?’</p> + +<p>‘Why the tortoise has eaten up a tench—a superb +tench weighing three pounds—which the master of the +restaurant put into the tank only last night. The waiter +has just been telling me about it.’</p> + +<p>‘Go at once and fetch me Gazelle and the scales.’</p> + +<p>During Joseph’s absence his master took down a volume +of Buffon, and consulted that eminent authority on the +subject of tortoises and turtles. There seemed to be no +doubt, according to the celebrated naturalist, that these +creatures did eat fish voraciously when they got the +chance.</p> + +<p>‘Dear, dear,’ thought Dumas, ‘I fear the owner of +the tank has Buffon on his side.’</p> + +<p>Just then Joseph returned with the accused in one +hand and the kitchen scales in the other.</p> + +<p>‘You see,’ began the irrepressible valet, ‘these sort of +creatures eat a lot. They need it to keep up their strength, +and fish is particularly nourishing. Only see how strong +sailors are, and they live so much on fish——’</p> + +<p>His master cut him short.</p> + +<p>‘How much did you say that tench weighed?’</p> + +<p>‘Three pounds. The waiter asks nine francs for it.’</p> + +<p>‘And Gazelle ate it all?’</p> + +<p>‘Every bit except the head, the back-bone, and the +inside.’</p> + +<p>‘Quite correct, Monsieur Buffon had said as much. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>287]</a></span> +Very well—but still—three pounds seems a good +deal.’</p> + +<p>He put Gazelle in the scale. She weighed exactly +two pounds and a half! The deduction was simple. +Either Gazelle had been falsely accused or the theft had +been much smaller than was represented. Indeed the +waiter readily took this view of the matter, and was quite +satisfied with five francs as an indemnity.</p> + +<p>The varied adventures of Gazelle had become rather +a bore, and her owner felt that he must try to find some +other home for her. She spent the following night in his +room, but thanks to the absence of snails all went well. +When Joseph came in next morning, his first act as usual +was to roll up the hearth-rug, and, opening the window, +to shake it well out in the air. Suddenly he uttered an +exclamation and flung himself half out of the window.</p> + +<p>‘What’s the matter, Joseph?’ asked his master, only +half awake.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, sir—it’s your tortoise. It was on the rug, and I +never saw it—and——’</p> + +<p>‘Well! and——?’</p> + +<p>‘And I declare, before I knew what I was about, I +shook it out of the window.’</p> + +<p>‘Imbecile!’ shouted Dumas, springing out of bed.</p> + +<p>‘Ah!’ cried Joseph with a sigh of relief. ‘See, she’s +eating a cabbage!’</p> + +<p>And so she was. Her fall had been broken by a +rubbish heap, and after a few seconds in which to recover +her equanimity, she had ventured to thrust her head out, +when finding a piece of cabbage near, she at once began +her breakfast.</p> + +<p>‘Didn’t I say so, sir?’ cried Joseph, delighted. +‘Nothing hurts those creatures. There now, whilst she’s +eating that cabbage a coach-and-four might drive over +her——’</p> + +<p>‘Never mind, never mind; just run down and fetch +her up quick.’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>288]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 398px;"> +<a name="illo50" id="illo50"></a> +<img src="images/asb50.jpg" width="398" height="305" +alt="Dumas introduces the tortoise to the other inhabitants" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">DUMAS BRINGS GAZELLE TO NO. 109 FAUBOURG ST.-DENIS</p> + +<p>Joseph obeyed, and as soon as his master was dressed +he called a cab, and taking Gazelle with him, drove off to +No. 109 in the Faubourg St.-Denis. Here he climbed to +the fifth floor and walked straight into the studio of +his friend, who was busy painting a delightful little +picture of performing dogs. He was surrounded by a +bear, who was playing with a log as he lay on his back, +a monkey, busy pulling a paint brush to pieces, and a frog, +who was half-way up a little ladder in a glass jar. You +will, I dare say, have guessed already that the painter’s +name was Décamps, the bear’s Tom, the monkey’s +Jacko I., and the frog’s Mademoiselle Camargo, and you +will not wonder that Dumas felt that he could not better +provide for Gazelle than by leaving her as an addition to +the menagerie in his friend’s studio.<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> +See p. <a href="#Page_375">375</a>.</p></div> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>289]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>COCKATOO STORIES</i></h2> + +<p class="source"><i>Naturalist’s Note-Book.</i> Reeves & Turner: 1868.</p> + + +<p>About thirty years ago a gentleman, who was fond of +birds and beasts, took into his head to try if parrots could +not be persuaded to make themselves at home among the +trees in his garden. For a little while everything seemed +going beautifully, and the experimenter was full of hope. +The parrots built their nests in the woods, and in course +of time some young ones appeared, and gradually grew +up to their full size. Then, unluckily, they became tired +of the grounds which they knew by heart, and set off to +see the world. The young parrots were strong upon the +wing, and their beautiful bright bodies would be seen +flashing in the sun, as much as fifteen miles away, and, +then, of course, some boy or gamekeeper with a gun in +his hand was certain to see them, and covet them for the +kitchen mantel-shelf or a private collection.</p> + +<p>The cockatoos however did not always care to choose +trees for their building places. One little pair, whose +grandparents had whisked about in the heat of a midsummer +day in Australia, found the climate of England +cold and foggy, and looked about for a warm cover for their +new nest. They had many conversations on the subject, +and perhaps one of these may have been overheard by a +jackdaw, who put into their minds a brilliant idea, for the +very next morning the cockatoos were seen carrying their +materials to one of the chimneys, and trying to fasten +them together half-way up. But cockatoos are not as +clever as jackdaws about this kind of thing, and before +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>290]</a></span> +the nest had grown to be more than a shapeless mass, +down it came, and such a quantity of soot with it, that the +poor cockatoos were quite buried, and lay for a day and +night nearly smothered in soot, till they happened to be +found by a housemaid who had entered the room. But +in spite of this mishap they were not disheartened, and +as soon as their eyes and noses had recovered from their +soot bath, they began again to search for a more suitable +spot. To the great delight of their master, they fixed +upon a box which he had nailed for this very purpose +under one of the gables, and this time they managed to +build a nest that was as good as any nest in the garden. +Still, they had no luck, for though the female laid two +eggs, and sat upon them perseveringly, never allowing +them to get cold for a single instant, it was all of no use, +for the eggs turned out to be both bad!</p> + +<p>Some cousins of theirs, a beautiful white cockatoo and +his lovely rose-coloured wife, were more prosperous in +their arrangements. They scooped out a most comfortable +nest with their claws and bills in the rotten branch of an +acacia tree, and there they brought up two young families, +all of them white as snow, with flame-coloured crests. +The eldest son, unhappily for himself, got weary of his +brothers and sisters, and the little wood on the outskirts +of the garden, where he was born, and one winter day +took a flight towards the town. His parents never +quite knew what occurred, but the poor young cockatoo +came back severely wounded, to the great fury of all +his family, who behaved very unkindly to him. It is +a curious fact that no animals and very few birds can +bear the sight of illness, and these cockatoos were no +better than the rest. They did not absolutely ill-treat +him, but they refused to let him enter their nest, and insisted +that he should live by himself in a distant bush. +At last his master took pity on him, and brought him into +the garden, but this so enraged the cockatoos who were +already in possession, that they secretly murdered him. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>291]</a></span> +However it is only just to the race of cockatoos to observe +that they are not always so bad as this, for during the +very same season an unlucky young bird, whose wing +and leg were broken by an accident, was adopted by an +elderly cockatoo who did not care for what her neighbours +said, and treated him as her own son. The following year, +when nesting time came round, the white cockatoos went +back to their acacia branch, but were very much disgusted +to find a pair of grey parrots there before them, and a +little pair of bald round heads peeping over the edge. +These little parrots grew up with such very bad tempers +that no one would have anything to do with them, and as +for their own relations, they looked upon them with the +contempt that a cat often shows to a man. To be sure +these relations were considered to be rather odd themselves, +for they did not care to be troubled with a family +of their own, so had taken under their protection two little +kittens, who had been born in one of the boxes originally +set apart for the parrots. The two birds could not endure +to see the old cat looking after her little ones, and whenever +she went out for a walk or to get her food, one of the +parrots always took her place in the box. It would have +been nice to know how long this went on, and if the +kittens adopted any parrot-like ways. Luckily, there was +one peculiarity of the parrots which it was beyond their +power to imitate, and that was the horrible voice which +renders the society of a parrot, and still more of a cockatoo, +unendurable to most people.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>292]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>THE OTTER WHO WAS REARED BY A CAT</i></h2> + +<p class="source"><i>Naturalist’s Note-Book.</i></p> + + +<p>There is still living in the kingdom of Galloway a wonderful +cat who is so completely above all the instincts +and prejudices of her race, that she can remain on friendly +terms with young rabbits, and wile away a spare hour +by having a game with a mouse. A <em>real</em> game, where +the fun is not all on one side, but which is enjoyed by +the mouse as much as by the cat.</p> + +<p>Hardly less strange, from the opposite point of view, +is the friendship that existed between two cats and an +otter, which had been taken from its mother when only a +few hours old, to be brought up by hand by a gentleman. +This was not a very easy thing to manage. It was too +young to suck milk out of a spoon, which was the first +thing thought of, but a quill passed through a cork and +stuck into a baby’s bottle proved a success, and through +this the little otter had its milk five times every day, until +he was more than five weeks old. Then he was introduced +to a cat who had lately lost a kitten, and though +not naturally very good-tempered, the puss took to him +directly, evidently thinking it was her own kitten grown +a little bigger. In general this cat, which was partly +Persian, and, as I have said, very cross, did not trouble +herself much about her young ones, which had to take +care of themselves as well as they could; but she could +not make enough of the little otter, and when he was as +big as herself she would walk with him every day to the +pond in the yard, where he had his bath, watching his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>293]</a></span> +splashings and divings with great anxiety, and never +happy till he got out safe.</p> + +<p>But, like human children, the baby otter would have +been very dull without someone to play with, and as +there were no little otters handy, he made friends with a +young cat called Tom.</p> + +<p>All through the long winter, when the pond was +frozen, and diving and swimming were no longer possible, +he and Tom used to spend happy mornings playing hide +and seek among the furniture in the dining-room, till +Tom began to feel that the otter was getting rather rough, +and that his teeth were very sharp, and that it would be +a good thing to get out of his reach, on the top of a high +cupboard or chimney piece.</p> + +<p>But at last the snow melted, and the ice became water +again, and the first day the sun shone, the otter and the +old cat went out for a walk in the yard. After the little +fellow had had his dive, which felt delicious after all the +weeks that he had done without it, he wandered carelessly +into a shed where he had never been before, and to +his astonishment he suddenly heard a flutter of wings, +and became conscious of a sharp pain in his neck. This +was produced by the beak of a falcon, who always lived +in the shed, and seeing the strange creature enter his +door, at once made up his mind that it was its duty to +kill it. The cat and the gentleman who happened to +come in at the same moment rushed forward and beat +off the bird, and then, blinded by excitement, like a great +many other people, and not knowing friends from foes, +the cat rushed at her master. In one moment she had +severely bitten the calf of his leg, given his thigh a fearful +scratch, and picked up the otter and carried him outside. +Then, not daring to trust him out of her sight, she +marched him sternly up the hill, keeping him all the +while between her legs, so that no danger should come +near him.</p> + +<p>As the otter grew bigger the cats became rather afraid +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>294]</a></span> +of his claws and teeth, which grew bigger too, and inflicted +bites and scratches without his knowing it. But if the +cats tired of him, he never tired of the cats, and was +always dull and unhappy when they were out of his way. +Sometimes, when his spirits were unusually good (and +his teeth unusually sharp), the poor playfellows were +obliged to seek refuge in the bedrooms of the house, or +even upon the roof, but the little otter had not lived so +long with cats for nothing, and could climb nearly as well +as they. When he had had enough of teasing, he told +them so (for, of course, he knew the cat language), and +they would come down, and he would stretch himself +out lazily in front of the fire, with his arms round Tom’s +neck.</p> + +<p>It would be nice to know what happened to him +when he really grew up, whether the joys of living in +a stream made him forget his old friends at the farm, or +whether he would leave the chase of the finest trout at +the sound of a mew or a whistle. But we are not told +anything about it, so everybody can settle it as they like.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>295]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>STORIES ABOUT LIONS</i></h2> + + +<p>The lion in its wild state is a very different animal from +the lion of menageries and wild-beast shows. The latter +has probably been born in captivity, reared by hand, and +kept a prisoner in a narrow cage all its life, deprived not +only of liberty and exercise, but of its proper food. The +result is a weak, thin, miserable creature, with an unhappy +furtive expression, and a meagre mane, more like a poodle +than the king of beasts in a savage state.</p> + +<p>The lion of South Africa differs in many points from +that of Algeria, of whom we are going to speak. In +Algeria there are three kinds of lions—the black, the +tawny, and the grey. The black lion, more rarely met +with than the two others, is rather smaller, but stronger +in build. He is so called from the colour of his mane, +which falls to his shoulder in a heavy black mass. The +rest of his coat is the colour of a bay horse. Instead of +wandering like the other two kinds, he makes himself a +comfortable dwelling, and remains there probably all his +life, which may last thirty or forty years, unless he falls a +victim to the hunter. He rarely goes down to the plains +in search of prey, but lies in ambush in the evening and +attacks the cattle on their way down from the mountain, +killing four or five to drink their blood. In the long +summer twilights he waits on the edge of a forest-path for +some belated traveller, who seldom escapes to tell the tale.</p> + +<p>The tawny and grey lion differ from each other only +in the colour of their mane; all three have the same habits +and characteristics, except those peculiar to the black lion +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>296]</a></span> +just described. They all turn night into day, and go out +at dusk to forage for prey, returning to their lair at dawn +to sleep and digest in peace and quiet. Should a lion, for +any reason, shift his camp during the day, it is most +unlikely that he will attack, unprovoked, any creature, +whether human or otherwise, whom he may chance to +meet; for during the day he is ‘full inside,’ and the lion +kills not for the sake of killing, but to satisfy his hunger. +The lion is a devoted husband; when a couple go out on +their nightly prowl, it is always the lioness who leads the +way; when she stops he stops too, and when they arrive at +the fold where they hope to procure their supper, she lies +down, while he leaps into the midst of the enclosure, and +brings back to her the pick of the flock. He watches her +eat with great anxiety lest anything should disturb her, +and never begins his own meal till she has finished hers. +As a father he is less devoted; the old lion being of a +serious disposition, the cubs weary him with their games, +and while the family is young the father lives by himself, +but at a short distance, so as to be at hand in case of +danger. When the cubs are about three months old, and +have finished teething (a process which often proves fatal +to little lionesses), their mother begins to accustom them +to eat meat by bringing them mutton to eat, which she +carefully skins, and chews up small before giving to them. +Between three and four months old they begin to follow +their mother at night to the edge of the forest, where their +father brings them their supper. At six months the whole +family change their abode, choosing for the purpose a very +dark night. Between eight months and a year old they +begin to attack the flocks of sheep and goats that feed by +day in the neighbourhood of their lair, and sometimes +venture to attack oxen, but being still young and awkward, +they often wound ten for one killed, and the father lion is +obliged to interfere. At the age of two years they can slay +with one blow an ox, horse, or camel, and can leap the +hedges two yards high that surround the folds for protection. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>297]</a></span> +This period in the history of the lion is the most +disastrous to the shepherds and their flocks, for then the +lion goes about killing for the sake of learning to kill. At +three years they leave their parents and set up families of +their own, but it is only at the age of eight that they attain +their full size and strength, and, in the case of the male, +his full mane.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 410px;"> +<a name="illo51" id="illo51"></a> +<img src="images/asb51.jpg" width="410" height="520" +alt="The lion roars at the villagers looking down at him" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE LION CAUGHT IN THE PIT</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>298]</a></span> +The question is sometimes asked, why does the lion +roar? The answer is, for the same reason that the bird +sings. When a lion and lioness go out together at night, +the lioness begins the duet by roaring when she leaves her +den, then the lion roars in answer, and they roar in turn +every quarter of an hour, till they have found their supper; +while they are eating they are silent, and begin roaring +as soon as satisfied, and roar till morning. In summer +they roar less and sometimes not at all. The Arabs, who +have good reason to know and dread this fearsome sound, +have the same word for it as for the thunder. The herds +being constantly exposed to the ravages of the lion, the +natives are obliged to take measures to protect them, but, +the gun in their unskilled hands proving often as fatal to +themselves as to their enemy, they are forced to resort to +other means. Some tribes dig a pit, about ten yards deep, +four or five wide, and narrower at the mouth than the +base. The tents of the little camp surround it, and round +them again is a hedge two or three yards high, made of +branches of trees interlaced; a second smaller hedge +divides the tents from the pit in order to prevent the flocks +from falling into it. The lion prowling in search of food +scents his prey, leaps both hedges at one bound, and falls +roaring with anger into the pit digged for him. The whole +camp is aroused, and so great is the rejoicing that no one +sleeps all night. Guns are let off and fires lit to inform +the whole district, and in the morning all the neighbours +arrive, not only men, but women, children, and even dogs. +When it is light enough to see, the hedge surrounding +the pit is removed in order to look at the lion, and to +judge by its age and sex what treatment it is to receive, +according to what harm it may have done. If it is a +young lion or a lioness the first spectators retire from the +sight disgusted, to make room for others whose raptures +are equally soon calmed. But if it is a full-grown lion +with abundant mane, then it is a very different scene; +frenzied gestures and appropriate cries spread the joyful +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>299]</a></span> +news from one to another, and the spectators crowd in +such numbers that they nearly edge each other into the +pit. When everyone has thrown his stone and hurled his +imprecation, men armed with guns come to put an end +to the noble animal’s torture; but often ten shots have +been fired before, raising his majestic head to look contemptuously +on his tormentors, he falls dead. Not till long +after this last sign of life do the bravest venture to let themselves +down into the pit, by means of ropes, to pass a net +under the body of the lion, and to hoist it up to the surface +by means of a stake planted there for the purpose. When +the lion is cut up, the mothers of the tribe receive each a +small piece of his heart, which they give to their sons to +eat to make them strong and courageous; with the same +object they make themselves amulets of hairs dragged out +from his mane.</p> + +<p>Other tribes make use of the ambush, which may be +either constructed underground or on a tree. If underground +a hole is dug, about one yard deep, and three or +four wide, near a path frequented by the lion; it is +covered with branches weighted down by heavy stones, +and loose earth is thrown over all. Four or five little +openings are left to shoot through, and a larger one to +serve as a doorway, which may be closed from within by +a block of stone. In order to ensure a good aim the Arabs +kill a boar and lay it on the path opposite the ambush; +the lion inevitably stops to sniff this bait, and then they +all fire at once. Nevertheless he is rarely killed on the +spot, but frantically seeking his unseen enemies, who are +beneath his feet, he makes with frenzied bounds for the +nearest forest, there sometimes to recover from his +wounds, sometimes to die in solitude. The ambush in a +tree is conducted on the same lines as the other, except +that the hunters are above instead of below their quarry, +from whom they are screened by the branches.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 349px;"> +<a name="illo52" id="illo52"></a> +<img src="images/asb52.jpg" width="349" height="370" +alt="The hunters, in their underground hole, fire at the lion" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE AMBUSH</p> + +<p>There are, however, in the province of Constantine +some tribes of Arabs who hunt the lion in a more +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>300]</a></span> +sportsmanlike manner. When a lion has made his presence +known, either by frequent depredations or by roarings, +a hunting party is formed. Some men are sent in advance +to reconnoitre the woods, and when they return with +such information as they have been able to gather as to +the age, sex, and whereabouts of the animal, a council +of war is held, and a plan of campaign formed. Each +hunter is armed with a gun, a pistol, and a yataghan, and +then five or six of the younger men are chosen to ascend +the mountain, there to take their stand on different commanding +points, in order to watch every movement of +the lion, and to communicate them to their companions +below by a pre-arranged code of signals. When they are +posted the general advance begins; the lion, whose hearing +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>301]</a></span> +is extremely acute, is soon aware of the approach of +enemies, who in their turn are warned by the young men +on the look-out. Finally, when the lion turns to meet the +hunters the watchers shout with all their might ‘Aoulikoum!’ +‘Look out!’ At this signal the Arabs draw +themselves up in battle array, if possible with their backs +to a rock, and remain motionless till the lion has +approached to within twenty or thirty paces; then the +word of command is given, and each man, taking the best +aim he can, fires, and then throws down his rifle to seize +his pistol or yataghan. The lion is generally brought to +the ground by this hail of bullets, but unless the heart +or the brain have been pierced he will not be mortally +wounded; the hunters therefore throw themselves upon +him before he can rise, firing, stabbing right and left, +blindly, madly, without aim, in the rage to kill. Sometimes +in his mortal agony the lion will seize one of the +hunters, and, drawing him under his own body, will +torture him, almost as a cat does a mouse before killing +it. Should this happen, the nearest relation present +of the unhappy man will risk his own life in the +attempt to rescue him, and at the same time to put an +end to the lion. This is a perilous moment; when the +lion sees the muzzle of the avenger’s rifle pointed at his +ear he will certainly crush in the head of his victim, +even if he has not the strength left to spring on his assailant +before the latter gives him the <i>coup de grâce</i>.</p> + +<p>The Arabs in the neighbourhood of Constantine used, +about fifty years ago, to send there for a famous French +lion-hunter, Jules Gérard by name, to rid them of some +unusually formidable foe. They never could understand +his way of going to work—alone and by night—which +certainly presented a great contrast to their methods. +On one occasion a family of five—father, mother, and three +young lions—were the aggressors. The Arab sheik, leading +Monsieur Gérard to the river, showed him by their +footprints on the banks where this fearful family were in +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>302]</a></span> +the habit of coming to drink at night, but begged him not +to sacrifice himself to such fearful odds, and either to +return to the camp, or to take some of the tribe with him. +Gérard declining both suggestions, the sheik was obliged +to leave, as night was at hand, and the lions might appear +at any moment. First he came near the hunter, and +spoke these words low: ‘Listen, I have a counsel to give +thee. Be on thy guard against the Lord of the Mighty +Head; he will lead the way. If thy hour has come, he +will kill thee, and the others will eat thee.’ Coming still +nearer the sheik whispered: ‘<em>He</em> has stolen my best mare +and ten oxen.’ ‘Who? who has stolen them?’ asked +Monsieur Gérard. ‘<em>He</em>,’ and the sheik pointed for +further answer to the mountain. ‘But name him, name +the thief.’ The answer was so low as to be barely audible: +‘The Lord of the Mighty Head,’ and with this ominous +counsel the sheik departed, leaving Gérard to his vigil.</p> + +<p>As the night advanced the moon appeared, and lit up +the narrow ravine. Judging by its position in the +heavens it might be eleven o’clock, when the tramp of +many feet was heard approaching, and several luminous +points of reddish light were seen glittering through the +thicket. The lions were advancing in single file, and the +lights were their gleaming eyes. Instead of five there +were only three, and the leader, though of formidable +dimensions, did not come up to the description of the +Lord of the Mighty Head. All three stopped to gaze in +wonder at the man who dared to put himself in their path. +Gérard took aim at the shoulder of the leader and fired. +A fearful roar announced that the shot had told, and the +wounded lion began painfully dragging himself towards +his assailant, while the other two slunk away into the +wood. He had got to within three paces when a second +shot sent him rolling down into the bed of the stream. +Again he returned to the charge, but a third ball right in +the eye laid him dead. It was a fine, large, young lion of +three years, with formidable teeth and claws. As agreed +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303"><!-- original location of Gaze illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>305]</a></span> +upon with the sheik, Monsieur Gérard immediately lit a +bonfire in token of his victory, in answer to which shots were +fired to communicate the good news to all the surrounding +district. At break of day two hundred Arabs arrived +to insult their fallen enemy, the sheik being the first to +appear, with his congratulations, but also with the information +that at the same hour that the young lion had been +shot, the Lord of the Mighty Head had come down and +taken away an ox. These devastations went on unchecked +for more than a year, one man alone, Lakdar by name, +being robbed of forty-five sheep, a mare, and twenty-nine +oxen. Finally he lost heart, and sent to beg Monsieur +Gérard to come back and deliver him if possible of his +tormentor. For some nights the lion made no sign, but +on the thirteenth evening Lakdar arrived at the lion-hunter’s +camp, saying: ‘The black bull is missing from +the herd; to-morrow morning I shall find his remains and +thou wilt slay the lion for me.’</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="illo53" id="illo53"></a> +<img src="images/asb53.jpg" width="600" height="292" +alt="The hunter faces the three lions" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">‘ALL THREE STOPPED TO GAZE AT THE MAN WHO DARED TO PUT HIMSELF IN THEIR PATH’</p> + +<p>Accordingly next morning at dawn Lakdar returned +to announce that he had found the dead bull. Gérard +rose and, taking his gun, followed the Arab. Through +the densest of the forest they went, till at the foot of a +narrow rocky ravine, close to some large olive trees, they +found the partially devoured carcase. Monsieur Gérard +cut some branches the better to conceal himself, and took +up his position under one of the olive trees, there to await +the approach of night, and with it the return of the lion +to the spoil. Towards eight o’clock, when the feeble light +of the new moon barely penetrated into the little glade, a +branch was heard to crack at some distance. The lion-hunter +rose and, shouldering his weapon, prepared to do +battle. From about thirty paces distant came a low growl, +and then a guttural sound, a sign of hunger with the lion, +then silence, and presently an enormous lion stalked from +the thicket straight towards the bull, and began licking +it. At this moment Monsieur Gérard fired, and struck +the lion within about an inch of his left eye. Roaring +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>306]</a></span> +with pain, he reared himself up on end, when a second +bullet right in the chest laid him on his back, frantically +waving his huge paws in the air. Quickly reloading, +Monsieur Gérard came close to the helpless monster, and +while he was raising his great head from the ground fired +two more shots, which laid the lion stone dead, and thus +brought to an end the career of the ‘Lord of the Mighty +Head.’</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>307]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>BUILDERS AND WEAVERS</i></h2> + + +<p>No one can examine birds and their ways for long together +without being struck by the wonderful neatness and +cleverness of their proceedings. They make use of a +great many different kinds of materials for their nests, +and manage somehow to turn out a nest which not only +will hold eggs, but is strong and of a pretty shape. Rotten +twigs are, curiously enough, what they love best for the +outside, and upon the twigs various substances are laid, +according to the species and taste of the builder. The +jay, for instance, collects roots and twists them into a firm +mass, which he lays upon the twigs; the American starling +uses tough wet rushes and coarse grass, and after +they are matted together, somehow ties the nest on to +reeds or a bush; while the missel thrush lines the casing +of twigs with tree moss, or even hay. To these they often +add tufts of wool, and lichen, and the whole is fastened +together by a kind of clay. The favourite spot chosen by +the missel thrush is the fork of a tree in an orchard, where +lichens are large and plentiful enough to serve as a covering +for the nests.</p> + +<p>Still, if the account given by Vaillant and Paterson is +true, the sociable grosbeaks surpass all the other birds in +skill and invention. They have been known to cover the +trunks of trees with a huge kind of fluted umbrella, made +of dry, fine grass, with the boughs of the trees poking +through in various places. No doubt in the beginning +the nest was not so large, but it is the custom of these +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>308]</a></span> +birds to live together in clans, and each year fresh ‘rooms’ +have to be added. When examined, the bird city was +found to have many gates and regular streets of nests, +each about two inches distant from the other. The +structure was made of ‘Boshman’s’ grass alone, but so +tightly woven together that no rain could get through. +The nests were all tucked in under the roof, which, by +projecting, formed eaves, thus keeping the birds warm and +dry. Sometimes the umbrella has been known to contain +as many as three hundred separate nests, so it is no +wonder that the tree at last breaks down with the weight, +and the city has to be founded again elsewhere.</p> + +<p>Now in the nests of all these birds there has been a +good deal of what we called ‘building’ and ‘carpentry’ +when we are talking of our own houses and our own +trades. But there are a whole quantity of birds spread +over the world, who are almost exclusively weavers, and +can form nests which hang down from the branch of a +tree without any support. To this class belongs the +Indian sparrow, which prefers to build in the tops of the +very highest trees (especially on the Indian fig) and particularly +on those growing by the river-side. He weaves +together tough grass in the form of a bottle, and hangs it +from a branch, so that it rocks to and fro, like a hammock. +The Indian sparrow, which is easily tamed, does not +like always to live with his family, so he divides his nest +into two or three parts, and is careful to place its entrance +underneath, so that it may not attract the notice of the +birds of prey. In these nests glow-worms have frequently +been found, carefully fastened into a piece of fresh clay, +but whether the bird deliberately tries in this way to light +up his dark nest, or whether he has some other use for +the glow-worm, has never been found out. But it seems +quite certain that he does not <em>eat</em> it, as Sir William Jones +once supposed.</p> + +<p>The Indian sparrow is a very clever little bird, and +can be taught to do all sorts of tricks. He will catch a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>309]</a></span> +ring that is dropped into one of the deep Indian wells, +before it reaches the water. He can pick the gold ornament +neatly off the forehead of a young Hindu woman, or carry +a note to a given place like a carrier pigeon. At least so +it is said; but then very few people have even a bowing +acquaintance with the Indian sparrow.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>310]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>‘MORE FAITHFUL THAN FAVOURED’</i></h2> + + +<p>There never was a more faithful watch-dog than the +great big-limbed, heavy-headed mastiff that guarded Sir +Harry Lee’s Manor-house, Ditchley, in Oxfordshire.<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> The +sound of his deep growl was the terror of all the gipsies +and vagrants in the county, and there was a superstition +among the country people, that he was never known to +sleep. Even if he was seen stretched out on the stone +steps leading up to the front entrance of the house, with +his massive head resting on his great fore-paws, at the +sound of a footfall, however distant, his head would be +raised, his ears fiercely cocked, and an ominous stiffening +of the tail would warn a stranger that his movements +were being closely watched, and that on the least suspicion +of anything strange or abnormal in his behaviour, he +would be called to account by Leo. Strangely enough, +the mastiff had never been a favourite of his master’s. +The fact that dogs of his breed are useless for purposes of +sport, owing to their unwieldy size and defective sense +of smell, had prevented Sir Harry from taking much notice +of him. He looked upon the mastiff merely as a +watch-dog. The dog would look after him, longing to be +allowed to join him in his walk, or to follow him when +he rode out, through the lanes and fields round his house, +but poor Leo’s affection received little encouragement. +So long as he guarded the house faithfully by day and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>311]</a></span> +night, that was all that was expected of him: and as in +doing this he was only doing his duty, and fulfilling the +purpose for which he was there, little notice was taken +of him by any of the inmates of the house. His meals +were supplied to him with unfailing regularity, for his +services as insuring the safety of the house were fully +recognised; but as Sir Harry had not shown him any +signs of favour, the servants did not think fit to bestow +unnecessary attention on him. So he lived his solitary +neglected life, in summer and winter, by night and day, +zealous in his master’s interests, but earning little +reward in the way of notice or affection.</p> + +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> +More about this gentleman and his dog may be read in <i>Woodstock</i>, +by Sir Walter Scott.</p> +</div> + +<p>One night, however, something occurred that suddenly +altered the mastiff’s position in the household, and from +being a faithful slave, he all at once became the beloved +friend and constant companion of Sir Harry Lee. It was +in winter, and Sir Harry was going up to his bedroom as +usual, about eleven o’clock. Great was his astonishment +on opening the library door, to find the mastiff stretched +in front of it. At sight of his master Leo rose, and, wagging +his tail and rubbing his great head against Sir Harry’s +hand, he looked up at him as if anxious to attract his +attention. With an impatient word Sir Harry turned +away, and went up the oak-panelled staircase, Leo +following closely behind him. When he reached his bedroom +door, the dog tried to follow him into the room, and +if Sir Harry had been a more observant man, he must +have noticed a curious look of appeal in the dog’s eyes, +as he slammed the door in his face, ordering him in commanding +tones to ‘Go away!’ an order which Leo did +not obey. Curling himself up on the mat outside the +door, he lay with his small deep-sunk eyes in eager watchfulness, +fixed on the door, while his heavy tail from time +to time beat an impatient tattoo upon the stone floor of +the passage.</p> + +<p>Antonio, the Italian valet, whom Sir Harry had brought +home with him from his travels, and whom he trusted +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>312]</a></span> +absolutely, was waiting for his master, and was engaged +in spreading out his things on the toilet table.</p> + +<p>‘That dog is getting troublesome, Antonio,’ said Sir +Harry. ‘I must speak to the keeper to-morrow, and tell +him to chain him up at night outside the hall. I cannot +have him disturbing me, prowling about the corridors and +passages all night. See that you drive him away, when +you go downstairs.’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, signor,’ replied Antonio, and began to help +his master to undress. Then, having put fresh logs of +wood on the fire, he wished Sir Harry good-night, and +left the room. Finding Leo outside the door, the valet +whistled and called gently to him to follow him; and, as +the dog took no notice, he put out his hand to take hold +of him by the collar. But a low growl and a sudden flash +of the mastiff’s teeth, warned the Italian of the danger of +resorting to force. With a muttered curse he turned away, +determined to try bribery where threats had failed. He +thought that if he could secure a piece of raw meat from +the kitchen, he would have no difficulty in inducing the +dog to follow him to the lower regions of the house, where +he could shut him up, and prevent him from further importuning +his master.</p> + +<p>Scarcely had Antonio’s figure disappeared down the +passage, when the mastiff began to whine in an uneasy +manner, and to scratch against his master’s door. Disturbed +by the noise, and astonished that his faithful valet +had disregarded his injunctions, Sir Harry got up and +opened the door, on which the mastiff pushed past him +into the room, with so resolute a movement that his master +could not prevent his entrance. The instant he got into +the room, the dog’s uneasiness seemed to disappear. +Ceasing to whine, he made for the corner of the room +where the bed stood in a deep alcove, and, crouching +down, he slunk beneath it, with an evident determination +to pass the night there. Much astonished, Sir Harry was +too sleepy to contest the point with the dog, and allowed +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>313]</a></span> +him to remain under the bed, without making any further +attempt to dislodge him from the strange and unfamiliar +resting-place he had chosen.</p> + +<p>When the valet returned shortly after with the piece +of meat with which he hoped to tempt the mastiff downstairs, +he found the mat deserted. He assumed that the +dog had abandoned his caprice of being outside his master’s +door, and had betaken himself to his usual haunts in the +basement rooms and passages of the house.</p> + +<p>Whether from the unaccustomed presence of the dog +in his room, or from some other cause, Sir Harry Lee was +a long time in going to sleep that night. He heard the +different clocks in the house strike midnight, and then +one o’clock; and as he lay awake watching the flickering +light of the fire playing on the old furniture and on the +dark panels of the wainscot, he felt an increasing sense of +irritation against the dog, whose low, regular breathing +showed that he, at any rate, was sleeping soundly. Towards +two in the morning Sir Harry must have fallen +into a deep sleep, for he was quite unconscious of the +sound of stealthy steps creeping along the stone corridor +and pausing a moment on the mat outside his room. +Then the handle of the door was softly turned, and the +door itself, moving on its well-oiled hinges, was gently +pushed inward. In another moment there was a tremendous +scuffle beneath the bed, and with a great bound the +mastiff flung himself on the intruder, and pinned him +to the floor. Startled by the unexpected sounds, and +thoroughly aroused, Sir Harry jumped up, and hastily lit +a candle. Before him on the floor lay Antonio, with the +mastiff standing over him, uttering his fierce growls, and +showing his teeth in a dangerous manner. Stealthily the +Italian stole out his hand along the floor, to conceal something +sharp and gleaming that had fallen from him, on +the dog’s unexpected onslaught, but a savage snarl from +Leo warned him to keep perfectly still. Calling off the +mastiff, who instantly obeyed the sound of his master’s +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>314]</a></span> +voice, though with bristling hair and stiffened tail he still +kept his eyes fixed on the Italian, Sir Harry demanded +from the valet the cause of his unexpected intrusion into +his bedroom at that hour, and in that way. There was so +much embarrassment and hesitation in Antonio’s reply, +that Sir Harry’s suspicions were aroused. In the meantime +the unusual sounds at that hour of the night had +awakened the household. Servants came hurrying along +the passage to their master’s room. Confronted by so +many witnesses, the Italian became terrified and abject, +and stammered out such contradictory statements, that it +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>315]</a></span> +was impossible to get at the truth of his story, and Sir +Harry saw that the only course open to him was to have +the man examined and tried by the magistrate.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 395px;"> +<a name="illo54" id="illo54"></a> +<img src="images/asb54.jpg" width="395" height="410" +alt="The mastiff stands over Antonio" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">‘AND PINNED HIM TO THE GROUND’</p> + +<p>At the examination the wretched valet confessed that +he had entered his master’s room with the intention of +murdering and robbing him, and had only been prevented +by the unexpected attack of the mastiff.</p> + +<p>Among the family pictures in the possession of the +family of the Earls of Lichfield, the descendants of Sir +Harry Lee, there is a full-length portrait of the knight +with his hand on the head of the mastiff, and beneath this +legend, ‘More faithful than favoured.’</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>316]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>DOLPHINS, TURTLES, AND COD</i><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap vsmlfont">Stories from Audubon</span></h2> + +<p class="source">From <i>Audubon’s Life</i>, by Robert Buchanan. Sampson Low & Co.</p> + + +<p>In the excellent life of Mr. Audubon, the American naturalist +(published in 1868 by Sampson Low, Marston & +Co.), some curious stories are to be found respecting the +kinds of fish that he met with in his voyages both through +the Atlantic and the Gulf of Mexico. Audubon’s remarks +about the habits of dolphins are especially interesting, and +will be read with pleasure by everybody who cares for +‘the sea and all that in them is.’</p> + +<p>Dolphins abound in the Gulf of Mexico and the neighbouring +seas, and are constantly to be seen chasing flying +fish, which are their food. Flying fish can swim more +rapidly than the dolphins, which of course are far larger +creatures; but if they find themselves much outnumbered, +and in danger of being surrounded, they spread the fins +that serve them for wings, and fly through the air for a +short distance. At first this movement throws out the +dolphins, who are unable to follow the example of their +prey, but they soon contrive to keep up with the flying +fish by giving great bounds into the air; and as the flying +fish’s powers are soon exhausted, it is not long before the +hunt comes to an end and the dolphins seize the fish as +they tumble into the sea.</p> + +<p>Sailors are fond of catching dolphins, and generally +bait their hooks with a piece of shark’s flesh. When the +fish is taken, its friends stay round it till the last moment, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>317]</a></span> +only swimming away as the dolphin is hauled on board. +For its size, which is generally about three feet long and +has rarely been known to exceed four feet, the dolphin +has a remarkably good appetite, and sometimes he eats so +much that he is unable to escape from his enemy, the +bottle-nosed porpoise. A dolphin that was caught in the +Gulf of Mexico was opened by the sailors, and inside him +were counted twenty-two flying fish, each one six or seven +inches long, and all arranged quite neatly with their tails +foremost. Before they have their dinner they are full of +fun, and their beautiful blue and gold bodies may often be +seen leaping and bounding and diving about the ship—a +sight which the sailors always declare portends a gale. +Indeed, the stories to which dolphins give rise are many +and strange. The negroes believe that a silver coin, fried +or boiled in the same water as the fish, will turn into +copper if the dolphin is in a state unfit for food; but as +no one can swear that he has ever seen the transmutation +of the metal, it may be suspected that the tale was +invented by the cook for the sake of getting an extra +dollar.</p> + + +<p class="break">About eighty miles from the Peninsula of Florida are +a set of low, sandy banks known as the <em>Tortuga</em> or <em>Turtle +Islands</em>, from the swarms of turtles which lay their +eggs in the sand, and are eagerly sought for by traders.</p> + +<p>Turtles are of many sorts, but the green turtle is +considered the best, and is boiled down into soup, which +is both rich and strengthening. They are cautious +creatures, and never approach the shore in the daylight, +or without watching carefully for some time to see if +the coast is indeed clear. They may be seen on +quiet moonlight nights in the months of May and June, +lying thirty or forty yards from the beach, listening +intently, and every now and then making a loud hissing +noise intended to frighten any enemies that may be +lurking near. If their quick ears detect any sound, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>318]</a></span> +however faint, they instantly dive and swim to some +other place; but if nothing is stirring, they land on the +shore, and crawl slowly about with the aid of their flappers, +until they find a spot that seems suitable for the hatching +of their eggs, which often number two hundred, laid at +one time. The operations are begun by the turtle scooping +out a hole in the burning sand by means of her hind +flappers, using them each by turns, and throwing up the +sand into a kind of rampart behind her. This is done so +quickly that in less than ten minutes she will often have +dug a hole varying from eighteen inches to two feet. +When the eggs are carefully placed in separate layers, +the loose sand is laid over them, and the hole not only +completely hidden but made to look exactly like the rest +of the beach, so that no one could ever tell that the surface +had been disturbed at all. Then the turtle goes away and +leaves the hot sand to do the rest.</p> + +<p>In course of time the young turtles, hardly bigger +than a five-shilling piece, leave their shells, and make +their way to the water, unless, before they are hatched, +their nest has been discovered by men, or by the +cougars and other wild animals, who feed greedily on +them. If they belong to the tribe of the green turtles, +they will at once begin to seek for sea plants, and +especially a kind of grass, which they bite off near the +roots, so as to get the tenderest parts. If they are young +hawk-bills, they will nibble the seaweed, and soon go on to +crabs and shell-fish, and even little fishes. The loggerheads +grow a sharp beak, which enables them to crack the +great conch shells, and dig out the fish that lives inside, +while the trunk turtle, which is often of an immense size +but with a very soft body, loves sea-urchins and shell-fish. +All of them can swim so fast that they often seem to be +flying, and it needs much quickness of eye and hand to +spear them in the water. Even to catch them on shore +is a matter of great difficulty, and in general more than +one man is required for the service. The turtle is raised +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>319]</a></span> +up from behind by a man on his knee, pushing with all +his might against her shoulder; but this has to be done +with great caution, or else the hunter may get badly bitten. +When the turtle is fully raised up, she is thrown over on +her back, and, like a sheep in a similar position, can seldom +recover herself without help. The turtles, when caught, +are put into an enclosure of logs with a sandy or muddy +bottom through which the tide flows, and here they are +kept and fed by their captors till they are ready for the +market. Unlike most creatures, their price is out of all +proportion to their weight, and a loggerhead turtle weighing +seven hundred pounds has been known to cost no +more than a green turtle of thirty.</p> + + +<p class="break">Early in May, and well into June, the seas extending +northwards from Maine to Labrador are alive with ships +just starting for the cod fishing. Their vessels are mostly +small but well stocked, and a large part of the space below +is filled with casks, some full of salt and others empty. +These empty ones are reserved for the oil that is procured +from the cod.</p> + +<p>Every morning, as soon as it is light, some of the crew +of each ship enters a small boat, which can be sailed or +rowed as is found necessary. When they reach the cod +banks every man boards up part of his boat for the fish +when caught, and then takes his stand at the end with +two lines, baited at the opening of the season with salted +mussels, and later with gannets or capelings. These lines +are dropped into the sea on either side of the boat, and when +the gunwale is almost touching the water and it is dangerous +to put in any more fish, they give up work for the +morning and return to the harbour. In general, fishing is +a silent occupation, but cod fishers are rather a talkative +race, and have bets with each other as to the amount of +the ‘takes’ of the respective crews. When they get back +to their vessels, often anchored eight or ten miles away, +they find that the men who have been left behind have set +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>320]</a></span> +up long tables on deck, carried the salt barrels on shore, +placed all ready the casks for the livers, and cleared the +hold of everything but a huge wedge of salt for the salting. +Then, after dinner, some of the men row back to the cod +banks, while the others set about cleaning, salting, and +packing the fish, so as to be quite finished when the men +return from their second journey. It is almost always +midnight before the work is done, and the men can turn in +for their three hours’ sleep.</p> + +<p>If, as often happens, the hauls have been very large, the +supply soon threatens to become exhausted, so on Sunday +the captain sails off for a fresh bank. Then, the men who +are the laziest or most unskilful in the matter of fishing +take out the cargo that has been already salted, and lay it +out on scaffolds which have been set up on the rocks. +When the sun has dried the fish for some time, they are +turned over; and this process is repeated several times in +the day. In the evening they are piled up into large stacks, +and protected from the rain and wind. In July the men’s +work is in one way less hard than before, for this is the +season when the capelings arrive to spawn upon the shores, +and where capelings are, cod are sure to follow. Now +great nets are used, with one end fastened to the land, +and these nets will sometimes produce twenty or thirty +thousand fish at a haul.</p> + +<p>With so many men engaged in the cod fishing, and +considering the number of diseases to which cod are subject, +it is perhaps quite as well that each fish should +lay such a vast supply of eggs, though out of the eight +million laid by one fish which have been counted, it is +calculated that, from various causes, only about a hundred +thousand come to maturity.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>321]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>MORE ABOUT ELEPHANTS</i></h2> + +<p class="source">From <i>The Wild Elephant</i>. Sir J. Emerson Tennent.</p> + + +<p>Long, long ago, when the moon was still young, and +some of the stars that we know best were only gradually +coming into sight, the earth was covered all over with a +tangle of huge trees and gigantic ferns, which formed the +homes of all sorts of enormous beasts. There were no +men, only great animals and immense lizards, whose +skeletons may still be found embedded in rocks or frozen +deep down among the Siberian marshes; for, after the +period of fearful heat, when everything grew rampant, +even in the very north, there came a time of equally intense +cold, when every living creature perished in many +parts of the world.</p> + +<p>When the ice which crushed down life on the earth +began to melt, and the sun once more had power to pierce +the thick cold mists that had shrouded the world, animals +might have been seen slowly creeping about the young +trees and fresh green pastures, but their forms were +no longer the same as they once were. The enormous +frames of all sorts of huge monsters, and the great +lizard called the ichthyosaurus, had been replaced by +smaller and more graceful creatures, who could move +lightly and easily through this new world. But changed +though it seemed to be, one beast still remained to tell the +story of those strange old times, and that was the elephant.</p> + +<p>Now anybody who has ever stood behind a big, clumsy +cart-horse going up a hill cannot fail to have been struck +with its likeness to an elephant; and it is quite true that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>322]</a></span> +elephants and horses are nearly related. Of course in the +East, where countries are so big and marches are so long, +it is necessary to have an animal to ride of more strength +and endurance than a horse, and so elephants, who are, +when well treated, as gentle as they are strong, were very +early trained as beasts of burden, or even as ‘men-of-war.’</p> + +<p>In their wild condition they have a great many curious +habits. They roam about the forests of India or +Africa in herds, and each herd is a real family, who have +had a common grandfather. The elephants are very +particular as to the number of their herd; it is never less +than ten, or more than twenty-one, but being very sociable +they easily get on terms of civility with other herds, and +several of these groups may be seen moving together towards +some special pond or feeding ground. But friendly +as they often are, each clan keeps itself as proudly distinct +from the rest as if they were all Highlanders. Any +unlucky elephant who has lost his own herd, and tries to +attach himself to a new one, is scouted and beaten away +by every member of the tribe, till, like a man who is +punished and scorned for misfortunes he cannot help, the +poor animal grows desperate, and takes to evil courses, +and is hunted down under the name of ‘a rogue.’</p> + +<p>Elephants have a great idea of law and order, and +carefully choose a leader who is either strong enough or +clever enough to protect the herd against its enemies. +Even a female has sometimes been chosen, if her wisdom +has been superior to that of the rest; but male or female, +the leader once fixed upon, the herd never fails to give +him absolute obedience, and will suffer themselves to be +killed in their efforts to save his life.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 377px;"> +<a name="illo55" id="illo55"></a> +<img src="images/asb55.jpg" width="377" height="600" +alt="An elephant dreams of mammoths, dinosaurs and other prehistoric creatures" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">‘LONG, LONG AGO.’ THE ELEPHANT DREAMS OF HIS OLD COMPANIONS</p> + +<p>As everyone knows, during the dry season in India +water becomes very scarce, and even the artificial tanks +that have been built for reservoirs are very soon empty. +About the middle of this century, an English officer, +Major Skinner by name, had drawn up to rest on the embankment +of a small Indian tank, which, low though it +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323"><!-- original location of Dreams illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>325]</a></span> +was, contained the only water to be found for a great distance. +On three sides of the tank there was a clearing, +but on the fourth lay a very thick wood, where the herd +lay encamped all day, waiting for darkness to fall, so that +they might all go to drink. Major Skinner knew the +habits of elephants well, and what to expect of them, so he +sent all his natives to sleep, and climbed himself into a +large tree that sheltered the tank at one corner. However, +it appeared that the elephants were unusually cautious +that night, for he sat in his tree for two hours before a +sound was heard, though they had been lively enough as +long as the sun was shining.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a huge elephant forced his way through the +thickest part of the forest, and advanced slowly to the +tank, his ears at full cock, and his eyes glancing stealthily +round. He gazed longingly at the water for some minutes, +but did not attempt to drink—perhaps he felt it would be +a mean advantage to take of his comrades—and then he +quietly retraced his steps backwards till he had put about +a hundred yards between himself and the water, when +five elephants came out of the jungle and joined him. +These he led forward, listening carefully as before, and +placed them at certain spots where they could command +a view both of the open country and the forest. This +done, and the safety of the others provided for, he went to +fetch the main body of the herd, which happened to be four +or five times as large as usual. Silently, as if preparing +for an assault, the whole of this immense body marched +up to where the scouts were standing, when a halt was +signalled, so that the leader might for the last time make +sure that no hidden danger, in the shape of man, lion, or +tiger, awaited them. Then permission was given, and +with a joyful toss of their trunks in the air, in they dashed, +drinking, wallowing, and rolling over with delight, till +one would have thought it had been years since they had +tasted a drop of water, or known the pleasures of a bath.</p> + +<p>From his perch in the tree Major Skinner had been +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>326]</a></span> +watching with interest the movements of the herd, and +when he saw that they had really had their fill, he gently +broke a little twig and threw it on the ground. It seemed +hardly possible that such a tiny sound could reach the +ears of those great tumbling, sucking bodies, but in one +instant they were all out of the tank, and tearing towards +the forest, almost carrying the little ones between them.</p> + +<p>Of course it is not always that elephants can find tanks +without travelling many hundreds of miles after them, +and on these occasions their wonderful sagacity comes to +their aid. They will pause on the banks of some dried-up +river, now nothing but a sandy tract, and feel instinctively +that underneath that sand is the water for which they +thirst. But then, how to get at it? The elephants know +as well as any engineer that if they tried to dig a hole +straight down, the weight of their bodies would pull down +the whole side of the pit with them, so that is of no use. +In order to get round this difficulty, long experience has +taught them that they must make one side to their well a +gentle slope, and when this is done they can wait with +perfect comfort for the water, whose appearance on the +surface is only a question of time.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 575px;"> +<a name="illo56" id="illo56"></a> +<img src="images/asb56.jpg" width="575" height="332" +alt="The elephant kneels after the dog bites its trunk" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE ELEPHANT FALLS ON HIS KNEES BEFORE THE LITTLE SCOTCH TERRIER</p> + +<p>Much might be written about the likes and dislikes of +elephants, which seem as a rule to be as motiveless as +the likes and dislikes of human beings. Till they are +tamed and treated kindly by some particular person, +elephants show a decided objection to human beings, and +in Ceylon have a greater repugnance to a white skin than +to a brown one. In fact, they are shy of anything new +or strange, but will put up with any animal to which they +are accustomed. Elks, pigs, deer, and buffaloes are their +feeding companions, and the elephants take no more notice +of their presence than if they were so many canaries. +Indeed, as far as can be gathered, the elephant is much +more afraid of the little domestic animals with which it +is quite unacquainted than of the huge vegetable-eating +beasts with which both it and its forefathers were on +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>327]</a></span> +intimate terms. Goats and sheep it eyes with annoyance; +they are new creatures, and were never seen in jungles or +forests; but, bad as they might be, dogs, the shadows of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>328]</a></span> +men, were worse still. They were so quick, so lively, and +had such hideous high voices, which they were always +using, not keeping them for special occasions like any +self-respecting quadruped. Really they might almost as +well be parrots with their incessant chatter. But of all +kinds of dogs, surely the one called a Scotch terrier was +the most alarming and detestable. One day an animal +of this species actually seized the trunk of an elephant in +its teeth, and the elephant was so surprised and frightened +that it fell on its knees at once. At this the dog was a +little frightened too, and let go, but recovered itself again +as the elephant rose slowly to its feet, and prepared to +charge afresh. The elephant, not knowing what to make +of it, backed in alarm, hitting out at the dog with its front +paws, but taking care to keep his wounded trunk well +beyond its reach. At last, between fright and annoyance +he lost his head completely, and would have fairly run +away if the keeper had not come in and put a stop to the +dog’s fun.</p> + +<p>If Æsop had known elephants—or Scotch terriers—he +might have made a fable out of this; but they had not +visited Greece in his day.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>329]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>BUNGEY</i></h2> + +<p class="source">From Jesse’s <i>British Dogs</i>.</p> + + +<p>During the reigns of Queen Elizabeth and James, there +lived a brave and accomplished knight called Sir John +Harington, who had been knighted on the field of battle by +the famous Earl of Essex, and had translated into English +a long poem, by an Italian called Ariosto. But busy +though he was in so many ways, Sir John still had time +to spare for his ‘raw dogge’ Bungey, and in the year 1608 +he writes a long letter to Prince Henry, elder brother of +Charles I., full of the strange doings of his favourite. +Bungey seems to have been used by Sir John as a sort of +carrier pigeon, and he tells how he would go from Bath +to Greenwich Palace, to ‘deliver up to the cowrte there +such matters as were entrusted to his care.’ The nobles +of the court made much of him, and sometimes gave him +errands of their own, and it was never told to their ‘Ladie +Queen, that this messenger did ever blab ought concerning +his highe truste, as others have done in more special matters.’ +More wonderful even than this was his behaviour concerning +two sacks of wheat which Bungey had been commissioned +by Sir John’s servant Combe, to carry from Bath +to his own house at Kelston, a few miles distant. The +sacks were tied round the dog’s body by cords, but on the +way the cords got loose, and Bungey, clever though he was, +could not tie them up again. However he was not to be +beaten, and hiding one ‘flasket’ in some bushes that grew +near by, he bore the other in his teeth to Kelston, and then +returning, fetched the hidden one out of the rushes and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>330]</a></span> +arrived with it in good time for dinner. Sir John is plainly +rather afraid that Prince Henry may not quite believe this +instance of sagacity, for he adds, ‘Hereat your Highnesse +may perchance marvell and doubte; but we have living +testimonie of those who wroughte in the fields, and espied +his work, and now live to tell they did muche long to +plaie the dogge, and give stowage to the wine themselves, +but they did refraine, and watchede the passinge of this +whole business.’</p> + +<p>As may be well guessed, the fame of Bungey’s talents +soon spread, and then, as now, there were many dog +stealers in the country. On one occasion, as Sir John was +riding from Bath to London, Bungey was tempted to leave +his side by the sight of a pond swarming with wild duck +or mallard. Unluckily other people besides Bungey thought +it good sport to hunt wild fowl, and did not mind seizing +valuable dogs, so poor Bungey was caught and bound, till +it could be settled who would give the highest price for +him.</p> + +<p>At last his captors decided that they would take him to +London, which was not very far off, and trust to chance +for finding a buyer. As it happened, the Spanish Ambassador +was on the look out for a dog of that very kind, +and he was so pleased with Bungey, that he readily agreed +to give the large sum asked by the men who brought him. +Now Bungey was a dog who always made the best of +things, and as Sir John tells the Prince, ‘suche was the +courte he did pay to the Don, that he was no lesse in good +likinge there than at home.’ In fact, everybody grew so +fond of him, that when after six weeks Sir John discovered +where he was and laid claim to him, no one in the house +could be prevailed on to give him up. Poor Sir John, who, +as we know, was very much attached to Bungey, was at his +wit’s end what to do, when it suddenly occurred to him to +let the dog himself prove who was his real master. So, +having the Ambassador’s leave to what he wished in the +matter, he called all the company together at dinner-time +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>331]</a></span> +and bade Bungey go into the hall where dinner was already +served, and bring a pheasant from the dish. This, as Sir +John says, ‘created much mirthe; but much more, when +he returned at my commandment to the table, and put it +again in the same cover.’ After such a proof there was +no more to be said, and Sir John was allowed to be the +dog’s master. But Bungey’s life was not destined to be +a very long one, and his death was strange and sudden. +As he and his master were once more on the road from +London to Bath on their return journey, he began jumping +up on the horse’s neck, and ‘was more earneste in fawninge +and courtinge my notice, than what I had observed +for time backe; and after my chidinge his disturbing my +passinge forwardes, he gave me some glances of such +affection as moved me to cajole him; but alas! he crept +suddenly into a thorny brake, and died in a short time.’</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 408px;"> +<a name="illo57" id="illo57"></a> +<img src="images/asb57.jpg" width="408" height="275" +alt="Bungey carries a pheasant to his master" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">BUNGEY AT THE SPANISH AMBASSADOR’S HOUSE</p> + +<p>It is impossible to guess what kind of illness caused +the death of poor Bungey, but it is pleasant to think that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>332]</a></span> +Sir John never forgot him, and also loved to talk of him +to his friends. ‘Now let Ulysses praise his dogge Argus,’ +he writes to Prince Henry, ‘or Tobit be led by that dogge +whose name doth not appear; yet could I say such things +of my Bungey as might shame them both, either for good +faith, clear wit, or wonderful deedes; to say no more than +I have said of his bearing letters to London and Greenwich, +more than a hundred miles. As I doubt not but +your Highness would love my dogge, if not myselfe, I +have been thus tedious in his storie; and again saie, that +of all the dogges near your father’s courte, not one hathe +more love, more diligence to please, or less paye for +pleasinge, than him I write of.’</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>333]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>LIONS AND THEIR WAYS</i></h2> + +<p class="source">Bingley’s <i>Animal Biography</i>.</p> + + +<p>Although it would not be safe to put one’s self into the +power of a lion, trusting to its generosity to make friends, +there are a great many stories of the kindness of lions to +other creatures which are perfectly true. One day, more +than a hundred years ago, a lion cub only three months +old was caught in one of the great forests near the river +Senegal, and brought to a Frenchman as a gift. The +Frenchman, who was fond of animals, undertook to train +it, and as the cub was very gentle and quiet this was easily +done. He soon grew very fond of his master, and enjoyed +being petted both by him and his friends, and what was +more strange in a beast whose forefathers had passed all +their lives in solitude, the lion hated being by himself. The +more the merrier was clearly <em>his</em> motto, and whether the +company consisted of dogs, cats, ducks, sheep, geese, or +monkeys (which were his bedfellows), or men and women, +did not matter to him; and you may imagine his joy, +when one night as he went to bed he found two little new-born +pups in his straw. He was quite as pleased as if he +had been their mother; indeed he would hardly let the +mother go near them, and when one of them died, he +showed his grief in every possible way, and became still +more attached to its brother.</p> + +<p>After six months the lion, now more than a year old, +was sent off to France, still with the little pup for company. +At first his keepers thought that the strangeness +of everything would make him frightened and savage, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>334]</a></span> +but he took it quite calmly and was soon allowed to +roam about the ship as he pleased. Even when he +landed at Havre, he only had a rope attached to his +collar, and so he was brought to Versailles, the pup trotting +happily by his side. Unfortunately, however, the +climate of Europe did not agree with the dog as with the +lion, for he gradually wasted away and died, to the terrible +grief of his friend. Indeed he was so unhappy that +another dog was put into the cage to make up for the +lost one, but this dog was not used to lions, and only knew +that they were said to be savage beasts, so he tried to hide +himself. The lion, whose sorrow, as often happens, only +made him irritable and cross, was provoked by the dog’s +want of confidence in his kindness, and just gave him one +pat with his paw which killed him on the spot. But he +still continued so sad, that the keepers made another +effort, and this time the dog behaved with more sense, +and coaxed the lion into making friends. The two lived +happily together for many years, and the lion recovered +some of his spirits, but he never forgot his first companion, +or was quite the same lion again.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="illo58" id="illo58"></a> +<img src="images/asb58.jpg" width="600" height="321" +alt="The lion roars at the man" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">‘THE HOTTENTOT NOTICED A HUGE LION LYING IN THE WATER’</p> + +<p>Many hundreds of miles south of Senegal a Hottentot +who lived in Namaqualand was one evening driving down +a herd of his master’s cattle, to drink in a pool of water, +which was fenced in by two steep walls of rock. It had +been a particularly hot summer, and water was scarce, +so the pool was lower than usual, and it was not until the +whole herd got close to the brink, that the Hottentot +noticed a huge lion, lying right in the water, preparing to +spring. The Hottentot, thinking as well as his fright +would let him think at all, that anything would serve as +supper for the lion, dashed straight through the herd, and +made as fast as he could for some trees at a little distance. +But a low roar behind him told him that he had been wrong +in his calculations, and that the lion was of opinion that +man was nicer than bull. So he fled along as quickly as +his trembling legs would let him, and just reached one of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335"><!-- original location of Hottentot illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>337]</a></span> +the tree aloes in which some steps had been cut by the +natives, as the lion bounded into the air. However the +man swung himself out of his enemy’s range, and the lion +fell flat upon the ground. Now the branches of the tree +were covered with hundreds of nests of a kind of bird +called the Sociable Grosbeak, and it was to get these nests +that the natives had cut in the smooth trunk the steps +which had proved the salvation of the Hottentot. Behind +the shelter of the nests the Hottentot cowered, hoping +that when he was no longer seen, the lion would forget +him and go in search of other prey. But the lion seemed +inclined to do nothing of the sort. For a long while he +walked round and round the tree, and when he got tired +of that he lay down, resolved to tire the man out. The +Hottentot hearing no sound, peeped cautiously out, to see +if his foe was still there, and almost tumbled down in +terror to meet the eyes of the lion glaring into his. So +the two remained all through the night and through the +next day, but when sunset came again the lion could bear +his dreadful thirst no longer, and trotted off to the nearest +spring to drink. Then the Hottentot saw his chance, +and leaving his hiding place he ran like lightning to his +home, which was only a mile distant. But the lion did +not yield without a struggle; and traces were afterwards +found of his having returned to the tree, and then scented +the man to within three hundred yards of his hut.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>338]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>THE HISTORY OF JACKO I.</i></h2> + + +<p>The ship ‘Roxalana’ of Marseilles lay anchored in the +Bay of Loando, which as we all know is situated in South +Guinea. The ‘Roxalana’ was a merchant vessel, and a +brisk traffic had been going on for some time with the +exchange of the European goods with which the ship had +been laden, for ivory and other native produce. All hands +were very busy getting on board the various provisions +and other stores needed for a long voyage, for it was in +the days of sailing vessels only, and it would be some +time before they could hope to return to Marseilles.</p> + +<p>Now the captain of the ‘Roxalana’ was a mighty +hunter, and seeing that all was going on well under the +first officer’s direction, he took his gun and a holiday and +went up country for one more day’s sport.</p> + +<p>He was as successful as he was brave, and he had the +great good luck to meet a tiger, a young hippopotamus, +and a boa constrictor. All these terrible creatures fell +before the unerring aim of the Provençal Nimrod, and +after so adventurous a morning’s work the captain +naturally began to feel tired and hungry, so he sat down +under the shade of some trees to rest and have some +lunch.</p> + +<p>He drew a flask of rum out of one pocket, and having +uncorked it placed it on his right side; from his other +pocket he produced a huge guava, which he laid on his +left side, and finally he drew a great wedge of ship biscuit +from his game bag and put it between his knees. Then +he took out his tobacco pouch and began to fill his pipe +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339"><!-- original location of Rum illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>341]</a></span> +so as to have it ready at hand when he had finished his +meal.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 390px;"> +<a name="illo59" id="illo59"></a> +<img src="images/asb59.jpg" width="390" height="600" +alt="The Captain stares in outrage at the spilled rum" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">ANNOYANCE OF THE CAPTAIN ON FINDING HIS FLASK OF RUM UPSET</p> + +<p>Imagine his surprise when, having filled his pipe, he +found the flask had been upset and the guava had disappeared!</p> + +<p>I am afraid the captain made use of some very strong +language, but there was nothing for it but to make the +best of the biscuit, the sole relic of his feast. As he +munched it he warily turned his head from side to side, +watching for the thief, when all of a sudden something +fell upon his head. The captain put up his hand and +found—the skin of his guava. Then he raised his eyes +and saw a monkey dancing for joy at his own pranks in +the tree just above him.</p> + +<p>As I have already shown the captain was an excellent +shot. Without stirring from his seat, he took up his gun +and with a shot snapped the end of the branch on which +his persecutor was sitting.</p> + +<p>Down came branch and monkey, and the captain at +once captured the latter before it had time to recover from +the surprise of its rapid fall.</p> + +<p>He was small and quite young, only half grown, but +of a rather rare kind, as the captain, who had an ever-ready +eye to the main chance, at once perceived.</p> + +<p>‘Ah ha!’ said he, ‘this little fellow will be worth fifty +francs if he’s worth a farthing by the time we get back to +Marseilles.’</p> + +<p>So saying he popped the monkey into his game-bag +and buttoned it carefully up. Then, feeling that a piece of +biscuit was not quite a sufficient lunch after the fatigues of +his morning’s sports, he retraced his steps and returned to +his ship in company with his monkey, whom he named +‘Jacko.’</p> + +<p>Before leaving Loando the captain, who was fond of +pets, bought a beautiful white cockatoo with a saffron +crest and jet black beak. ‘Cataqua’ (that was his harmonious +name) was indeed a lovely creature and extremely +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>342]</a></span> +accomplished into the bargain. He spoke French, +English, and Spanish equally well, and sang ‘God save +the King,’ the ‘Marseillaise,’ and the Spanish National +Anthem with great perfection.</p> + +<p>The aptitude for languages made him a ready pupil, +and his vocabulary was largely increased by daily association +with the crew of the ‘Roxalana,’ so that before they +had been very long at sea Cataqua swore freely in the +purest Provençal, to the delight and admiration of his +captain.</p> + +<p>The captain was very fond of his two pets, and every +morning, after inspecting the crew and giving each man +his orders for the day, he would go up to Cataqua’s cage, +followed by Jacko, and give the cockatoo a lesson. When +this was well said he would reward his pupil by sticking +a lump of sugar between the wires of the cage, a reward +which delighted Cataqua whilst it filled Jacko with +jealousy.</p> + +<p>He too loved sugar, and the moment the captain’s +back was turned he would draw near the cage and pull +and pinch till the lump of sugar generally changed its +destination, to the despair of Cataqua, who, crest erect +and with brandished claw, rent the air with shrieks of rage +mingled with angry oaths.</p> + +<p>Jacko meanwhile stood by affecting an innocent air +and gently sucking the sugar which he had stowed away +in one of his pouches. Unluckily none of Cataqua’s +owners had taught him to cry ‘stop thief’ and he soon +realised that if Jacko were to be punished he must see to +it himself.</p> + +<p>So one day, when the monkey after safely abstracting +the sugar pushed a paw between the bars of the cage +to gather up some remaining crumbs, Cataqua, who was +gently swinging, head down, and apparently unconscious +of what was going on, suddenly caught Jacko’s thumb in +his beak and bit it to the bone.</p> + +<p>Jacko uttered a piercing shriek, rushed to the rigging +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>343]</a></span> +and climbed as far as he could, when he paused, clinging +on by three paws and piteously brandishing the fourth in +the air.</p> + +<p>Dinner-time came, and the captain whistled for Jacko, +but contrary to all customs no Jacko came. The captain +whistled again, and this time he thought he heard an +answering sound which seemed to come from the sky. +He raised his eyes and beheld Jacko still waving his +injured paw. Then began an exchange of signals, with +the result that Jacko firmly refused to come down. Now +the captain had trained his crew to habits of implicit +obedience and had no notion of having his orders resisted +by a monkey, so he took his speaking trumpet and called +for Double Mouth.</p> + +<p>Double Mouth was the cook’s boy, and he had well +earned his nickname by the manner in which he took +advantage of his culinary position to make one meal +before the usual dinner hour without its interfering in +the least with his enjoyment of a second at the proper +time. At the captain’s call Double Mouth climbed on +deck from the cook’s galley and timidly approached his +chief.</p> + +<p>The captain, who never wasted words on his subordinates, +pointed to Jacko, and Double Mouth at once +began to give chase with an activity which proved that +the captain had chosen well. As a matter of fact Jacko +and Double Mouth were dear friends, the bond of sympathy +which united them being one of greediness, for +many a nice morsel Jacko had to thank the cook’s boy +for. So when the monkey saw who was coming, instead +of trying to escape him he ran to meet him, and in a few +minutes the two friends, one in the other’s arms, returned +to the deck where the captain awaited them.</p> + +<p>The captain’s one treatment for wounds of all kinds +consisted of a <em>compress</em> steeped in some spirit, so he at +once dipped a piece of rag in rum and bandaged the +patient’s thumb with it. The sting of the alcohol on the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>344]</a></span> +wound made Jacko dance with pain, but noticing that the +moment the captain’s back was turned Double Mouth +rapidly swallowed the remains of the liquid in which the +rag had been dipped, he realised that however painful as +a dressing it might possibly be agreeable to the palate. +He stretched out his tongue and very delicately touched +the bandage with its tip. It was certainly rather nice, +and he licked more boldly. By degrees the taste grew on +him, and he ended by putting his thumb, bandage and all, +into his mouth and sucking it bodily.</p> + +<p>The result was that (the captain having ordered the +bandage to be wetted every ten minutes) by the end of a +couple of hours Jacko began to blink and to roll his head, +and as the treatment continued he had at length to be +carried off by Double Mouth, who laid him on his own +bed.</p> + +<p>Jacko slept without stirring for some hours. When he +woke the first thing which met his eyes was Double Mouth +busy plucking a fowl. This was a new sight, but Jacko +seemed to be particularly struck by it on this occasion. +He got up from the bed and came near, his eyes steadily +fixed on the fowl, and carefully watched how the whole +operation proceeded. When it was ended, feeling his head +a little heavy still, he went on deck to take the air.</p> + +<p>The weather was so settled and the wind so favourable +that the captain thought it only a waste to keep the +poultry on board alive too long, so he gave orders that a +bird should be served daily for his dinner in addition to +his usual rations. Soon after a great cackling was heard +amongst the hencoops and Jacko climbed down from the +yard where he was perched at such a rate that one might +have thought he was hastening to the rescue. He tore into +the kitchen, where he found Double Mouth already plucking +a newly killed fowl, till not an atom of down was left +on it.</p> + +<p>Jacko showed the deepest interest in the process, +and on returning to deck he, for the first time since his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>345]</a></span> +accident, approached Cataqua’s cage, carefully keeping +beyond range of his beak however. After strolling +several times round, he at last seized a favourable moment +and clutching hold of one of Cataqua’s tail feathers, +pulled hard till it came out regardless of the cockatoo’s +screams and flappings. This trifling experiment caused +Jacko the greatest delight, and he fell to dancing on all +fours, jumping up and falling back on the same spot +which all his life was the way in which he showed his +supreme content about anything.</p> + +<p>Meantime the ship had long lost sight of land and +was in full sail in mid ocean. It appeared unnecessary +to the captain, therefore, to keep his cockatoo shut up in +a cage, so he opened the door and released the prisoner, +there being no means of escaping beyond the ship. +Cataqua instantly took advantage of his freedom to climb +to the top of one of the masts, where, with every appearance +of rapture, he proceeded to regale the ship’s company +with his entire large and varied vocabulary, making quite +as much noise by himself as all the five-and-twenty +sailors who formed his audience.</p> + +<p>Whilst this exhibition was taking place on deck a +different scene was being enacted below. Jacko had as +usual approached Double Mouth at plucking time, but +this time the lad, who had noticed the extreme attention +with which the monkey watched him, thought that +possibly there might be some latent talent in him which +it was a pity not to develop.</p> + +<p>Double Mouth was one of those prompt and energetic +persons who waste no time between an idea and its +execution. Accordingly he quietly closed the door, put +a whip into his pocket in case of need, and handed Jacko +the duck he was about to pluck, adding a significant +touch to the handle of the whip as a hint.</p> + +<p>But Jacko needed neither hint nor urging. Without +more ado he took the duck, placed it between his knees +as he had seen his tutor do, and fell to with a will. As +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>346]</a></span> +he found the feathers giving place to down and the down +to skin, he became quite enthusiastic, so much so that +when his task was done he fell to dancing for joy exactly +as he had done the day before by Cataqua’s cage.</p> + +<p>Double Mouth was overjoyed for his part. He only +regretted not having utilised Jacko’s talents sooner, but +he determined to do so regularly in the future. Next day +the same operation took place, and on the third day, +Double Mouth, recognising Jacko’s genius, took off his +own apron and tied it round his pupil, to whom from that +moment he resigned the charge of preparing the poultry +for the spit. Jacko showed himself worthy of the confidence +placed in him, and by the end of a week he had +quite distanced his teacher in skill and quickness.</p> + +<p>Meantime the ship was nearing the Equator. It was +a peculiarly sultry day, when the very sky seemed to sink +beneath its own weight; not a creature was on deck but +the man at the helm and Cataqua in the shrouds. The +captain had flung himself into his hammock and was +smoking his pipe whilst Double Mouth fanned him with +a peacock’s tail. Even Jacko seemed overcome by the +heat, and instead of plucking his fowl as usual, he had +placed it on a chair, taken off his apron, and appeared lost +in slumber or meditation.</p> + +<p>His reverie, however, did not last long. He opened +his eyes, glanced round him, picked up a feather which +he first stuck carelessly in his mouth and then dropped, +and at length began to slowly climb the ladder leading on +deck, pausing and loitering at each step. He found the +deck deserted, which apparently pleased him, as he gave +two or three little jumps whilst he glanced about to look +for Cataqua, who with much gesticulation was singing +‘God save the King’ at the top of his voice.</p> + +<p>Then Jacko seemed to forget his rival’s existence +altogether, and began lazily to climb the rigging on the +opposite side, where he indulged in various exercises, +swinging by his tail head down, and generally appearing +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>347]</a></span> +to have only come with a view to gymnastics. At +length, seeing that Cataqua took no notice of him, he +quietly sidled that way, and at the very moment that the +performance of the English National Anthem was at its +height, he seized the singer firmly with his left hand just +where the wings join the body.</p> + +<p>Cataqua uttered a wild note of terror, but no one was +sufficiently awake to hear it.</p> + +<p>‘By all the winds of heaven!’ exclaimed the captain +suddenly. ‘Here’s a phenomenon—snow under the +Equator!’</p> + +<p>‘No,’ said Double Mouth, ‘that’s not snow, that’s—ah, +you rascal!’ and he rushed towards the companion.</p> + +<p>‘Well, what is it then?’ asked the captain, rising in +his hammock.</p> + +<p>‘What is it?’ cried Double Mouth from the top of the +ladder. ‘It’s Jacko plucking Cataqua!’</p> + +<p>The captain was on deck in two bounds, and with a +shout of rage roused the whole crew from their slumbers.</p> + +<p>‘Well!’ he roared to Double Mouth, ‘what are you +about, standing there? Come, be quick!’</p> + +<p>Double Mouth did not wait to be told twice, but was +up the rigging like a squirrel, only the faster he climbed +the faster Jacko plucked, until when the rescuer reached +the spot it was a sadly bare bird which he tore from +Jacko’s vindictive hands and carried back to his master.</p> + +<p>Needless to say that Jacko was in dire disgrace after +this exploit. However, in time he was forgiven and often +amused the captain and crew with his pranks.</p> + +<p>When the ‘Roxalana’ reached Marseilles after a quick +and prosperous voyage, he was sold for seventy-five francs +to Eugène Isabey the painter, who gave him to Flero for +a Turkish hookah, who in his turn exchanged him for a +Greek gun with Décamps.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>348]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>SIGNORA AND LORI</i></h2> + +<p class="source">Translated from <i>Deutsche Blätter</i>, 1867. No. 10.</p> + + +<p>A gentleman living at Güstrow, in Mecklenburg, who +was very fond of animals, possessed a fine parrot, which +had beautiful plumage, and could talk better than most +of his kind. Besides the parrot, he had a poodle, called +Signora Patti, after the great singer, whom the gentleman +had once heard when he was upon a visit to Rostock; +after his return home he bestowed the name upon his +dear poodle.</p> + +<p>Under the tuition of her master, the poodle began to +be an artist in her way. There was no trick performed +by dogs too difficult for her to learn. The parrot, whose +name was Lori, paid the greatest attention whilst the +Signora’s lessons were going on, and he soon had all the +vocabulary, which the Signora carried in her head, not +only in his memory, but on his tongue.</p> + +<p>When the dog was told by her master to ‘go to the +baker,’ then Lori could croak out the words also. Signora +Patti would hasten to fetch the little basket, seat herself +before her master, and, looking up at him with her wise +eyes, scrape gently upon the floor with her paw, which +signified: ‘Please put in the money.’ Her master +dropped in a few coins, the Signora ran quickly to the +baker with the basket, and brought it back filled with +little cakes; placing it before her master, she awaited her +reward, a good share of the dainties.</p> + +<p>Often, for a variety in the lessons, she had to go to +the baker without money; then her master simply gave +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>349]</a></span> +the order, ‘on tick!’ and the Signora, who knew that the +cakes would be sent, obeyed the command at once.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 404px;"> +<a name="illo60" id="illo60"></a> +<img src="images/asb60.jpg" width="404" height="305" +alt="Lori sits on the handle of the basket to stop Patti reaching the cakes" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">LORI REFUSES TO SHARE WITH THE SIGNORA</p> + +<p>The parrot made a droll use of these practisings, +turning to account his knowledge of speech in the slyest +way. If he found himself alone with the poodle, who +was perhaps comfortably stretched on her cushion, Lori +would cry—imitating his master’s voice—as if he quite +understood the joke: ‘Go out!’ Poor Patti would get +up in obedience to the order and slink out of the door +with her ears drooping. And immediately Lori would +whistle, just in the tone used by his master, and the +Signora then returned joyfully into the room.</p> + +<p>But it was not only for pastime that Lori exercised +his gift; the cunning bird used it for the benefit of his +greedy beak. It began to happen often to the master to +find that his private account-book, carefully kept in the +smallest details, did not agree well with that of his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>350]</a></span> +neighbour the baker. The Signora, declared the baker, +had become most accomplished in the art of running up +a long bill, and always, of course, at her master’s orders. +Only he, the master, when he looked over the reckoning, +growled to himself: ‘My neighbour is a rogue; he chalks +up the amount double.’</p> + +<p>How very much was he astonished, then, and how +quickly were his suspicions turned into laughter, when +he beheld, through a half-open door, the following absurd +scene.</p> + +<p>It was one fine morning, and Lori sat upon the top +of his cage, calling out in his shrillest tones: ‘Signora, +Signora!’ The poodle hastened to present herself before +him, wagging her tail, and Lori continued, ‘Go to the +baker.’ The Signora fetched the little basket from its +place, and put it before her tyrant, scratching her paw on +the floor to ask for money.</p> + +<p>‘On tick!’ was Lori’s prompt and brief remark; the +Signora seized the basket, and rushed out of the door. +Before long she returned, laid the basket, full of the little +cakes, before the parrot, and looked with a beseeching +air for the reward of her toil.</p> + +<p>But the wicked Lori received her with a sharp ‘get +out,’ putting her to flight, and proceeded to enjoy his ill-gotten +gains in solitude.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>351]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>OF THE LINNET, POPINJAY, OR PARROT, +AND OTHER BIRDS THAT CAN SPEAK</i></h2> + + +<p>The linnets be in manner the best birds of all others, +howbeit, they be very docible. Do they will whatsoever +they are taught and bidden, not only with their voice, but +also with their feet and bills, as if they were hands. In +the territory about Arelate (Arles) there is a bird called +Taurus (because it loweth like a bull or cow, for otherwise +a small bird it is). There is another also named Anthus, +which likewise resembleth the neighing of horses; and if +haply by the approach of horses they be driven from their +grass whereof they feed, they will seem to neigh, and flying +unto them, chase them away, and to be revenged of +them again. But above all other birds of the air, the +parrots pass for counterfeiting a man’s voice, insomuch as +they will seem to parle and prate our very speech. This +fowl cometh out of the Indies; it is all the body over +green, only it hath a collar about the neck of vermilion +red, different from the rest of her feathers. The parrot +can skill to salute emperors, and bid good-morrow: yea, +and to pronounce what words she heareth. She loveth +wine well, and when she hath drunk freely, is very pleasant +and playful. She hath an head as hard as is her beak. +When she learns to speak, she must be beaten about the +head with a rod of iron; for otherwise she careth for no +blows. When she taketh her flight down from any place, +she lighteth upon her bill, and resteth thereupon, and +by that means saveth her feet, which by nature are but +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>352]</a></span> +weak and feeble, and so carrieth her own weight more +lightly.</p> + +<p>There is a certain pie, of nothing so great reckoning +and account as the parrot, because she is not far set, but +here by near at hand: howbeit, she pronounces that which +is taught her more plainly and distinctly than the other. +These take a love to the words that they speak; for they +not only learn them as a lesson, but they learn them with +a delight and pleasure, insomuch that a man shall find +them studying thereupon, and conning the said lesson; +and by their careful thinking upon that which they learn +they show plainly how mindful and intentive they be +thereto. It is for certain known that they have died for +very anger and grief that they could not learn to pronounce +some hard words; as also unless they hear the same +words repeated often unto them, their memory is so shittle, +they will soon forget the same again. If they miss a word +and have lost it, they will seek to call it again to remembrance; +and if they fortune to hear the same word in the +meantime, they will wonderfully joy thereat. As for their +beauty, it is not ordinary, although it be not very lovely. +But surely amiable enough are they in this, that they can +so well resemble man’s speech. It is said that none of +their kind are good to be made scholars, but such only as +feed upon mast; and among them, those that have five +toes to their feet. But even these also are not fit for that +purpose, after the first two years of their age. And their +tongue is broader than ordinary; like as they be all that +counterfeit man’s voice, each one in their kind, although +it be in manner general to birds whatsoever to be broad-tongued.</p> + +<p>Agrippina the Empress, wife to Claudius Cæsar, had +a black-bird or a throstle at what time I compiled this +book, which could counterfeit man’s speech; a thing never +seen or known before. The two Cæsars also, the young +princes (to wit, Germanicus and Drusus,) had one stare, +and sundry nightingales, taught to parle Greek and Latin. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>353]</a></span> +Moreover, they would study upon their lessons, and meditate +all day long; and from day to day come out with new +words still, yea, and are now able to continue a long speech +and discourse. Now for to teach them the better, these +birds must be in a secret place apart by themselves, when +they can hear no other voice; and one is to sit over them, +who must repeat often that which he would have them to +learn; yea, and please them also with giving them such +meat as they best love.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>354]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>PATCH AND THE CHICKENS</i></h2> + + +<p>On a farm up in Durham, there were six little chickens +who were deserted by the mother hen as soon as they +were hatched. So the farmer’s wife put them in a basket +and carried them into the cottage to keep them warm by +the fire.</p> + +<p>There they were discovered by a smooth-coated terrier, +named Patch, who was at that time very sad because her +little puppy had just died, and she began to look after +the chickens as if they were her own children. The little +chicks also turned to her quite naturally for care and +protection.</p> + +<p>She used to treat them very gently, and would sit and +watch them feed with the greatest interest. She would +curl herself up, and then let them climb about her, and +go to sleep between her paws. Sometimes she did not +seem to consider the floor comfortable enough for her +adopted family, and would jump on to a wooden settle +which stood in the kitchen, and then with her feet she +would pat the cushions into a cosy bed, and very carefully +would take one chicken after another in her mouth, and +place them on the softest part.</p> + +<p>Soon the time came for the chickens to be sent out into +the world.</p> + +<p>One day when Patch was out for a walk they were +taken to the farmyard.</p> + +<p>When the poor little dog returned she was quite broken-hearted, +and ran whining about the cottage. Then, as if +seized with a sudden thought, she walked out of the door, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>355]</a></span> +and in a very short time she reappeared, followed by her +feathered family, and again they took up their abode in +the cottage. Every morning Patch used to take them +out for a walk, and it was a most amusing sight to see +the little terrier followed by a procession of six stately +hens.</p> + +<p>At last their living in the house became such an inconvenience +to the farmer’s wife that poor Patch’s children +had to be killed.</p> + +<p>For some time Patch was very unhappy, and would +still go into the farmyard to look for her six chickens.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>356]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>THE FIERCE FALCON</i></h2> + +<p class="source">From <i>Wild Sports of the Highlands</i>. By C. St. John.</p> + + +<p>There are not nearly so many stories about birds as +about dogs and cats, because birds can fly away, and it is +more difficult to know what becomes of them. Perhaps, +properly speaking, stories about birds have no business in +a ‘Beast Book,’ but as long as the story is interesting, it +does not do to be too particular.</p> + +<p>A good many years ago, a gentleman named St. John +was exploring the high hills near the source of the Findhorn, +in Inverness-shire, when he found a young falcon +which was being reared as a pet by a shepherd boy, who +gave her trout to eat. There was not much beauty about +the falcon when Mr. St. John first saw her, for her +plumage was dark-brown, with long-shaped spots on the +breast, but in spite of that he took a fancy to her, and +persuaded her master to sell her to him. When, however, +she had passed her second birthday, and might be considered +grown up, she put on all her finest feathers, and +was very much admired by everyone. Her throat became +a lovely soft cream colour, and the brown on her back +changed into a lovely dark grey, while on her bosom, each +little feather was crossed by a bar. But lovely though +she was, Mr. St. John felt her to be a great care, for she +was very strong as well as very brave, and would never +think twice about attacking dogs or even people, if they +offended her. As for the fowls, she soon made such short +work of <em>them</em>, that her master was obliged to chain her +up in the kitchen garden, which had hitherto formed the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>357]</a></span> +property of a tame owl. Luckily for the owl, the falcon +at once made friends with him, and he was even allowed +to finish up any of the falcon’s dinner which she did not +want herself.</p> + +<p>Matters went quite smoothly for some weeks, and Mr. +St. John was beginning to flatter himself that his pet was +quieting down, and becoming quite a home bird, when one +day a duck, tempted by the sight of the garden, whose +gate had been carelessly left open, advanced a few steps +along the path. Seeing nothing and nobody (for being +daylight, the owl was asleep and the falcon too cunning +to move) the duck became bolder, and walked merrily on, +pecking at anything that took her fancy, and making funny +little noises of satisfaction, unconscious of a pair of bright +eyes that were watching her from behind a bush. Indeed, +so absorbed was the duck in her afternoon tea, that she +never even saw the falcon steal softly out and soar a little +way up into the air, and suddenly swoop down with great +force, and before the victim had time to be frightened she +was dead, and her body was carried away in the falcon’s +claws, to serve for her supper.</p> + +<p>Now the duck was the mother of a large family, all +newly hatched, and it would have fared very badly with +them in their babyhood, had it not been for the kindness +of a guinea-fowl, who adopted them as her own, directly +she heard that they were left orphans and helpless. The +guinea-fowl, indeed, was quite glad of the chance, because +she had a warm heart, and had mourned sadly for her husband, +who had been lately condemned to death on account +of a series of horrible murders he had committed among the +young chickens. So the good creature thought the duck’s +sad accident quite providential, and at once set about filling +her place. Like many other mothers, instead of making +the little ducklings fall into <em>her</em> ways, <em>she</em> fell into theirs, +and never left their sides, except on urgent business. And +they had, even then, only to call to her if they saw great +clumsy animals such as dogs or children coming their way, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>358]</a></span> +and down she would rush in a frightful hurry, half scrambling, +half flying over bushes and palings, and making +furious pecks at the children’s legs, if they ventured too +close to her little ones.</p> + +<p>Still, not all her love nor all her courage would have +prevented the guinea-fowl falling a victim to the falcon, if +once the bird had got loose, and as it was, the falcon continued +to do a good deal of damage to the creatures about +the farmyard. A cock, who had hitherto crowed very +loudly and declared himself king of the birds, was foolish +enough to give battle to our falcon. An hour after, a few +feathers were all that remained of <em>him</em>, and as to the +pigeons, if they ever happened to get within the length of +her chain, their doom was certain. At last the gaps in the +poultry yard became so serious that Mr. St. John made up +his mind that the falcon must be fastened up in a still more +out-of-the-way place, and while he was altering her chain +away she flew. Of course he thought she was gone for +ever, and he watched her circling about the house with a +very sad heart, for he still was fond of her, though she was +such a very bad bird, and gave him so much trouble; but +as it was getting dark, he had to go in, and stealing a +last look at her as he entered the house, he saw her +settling down for the night, in the top of a tall tree.</p> + +<p>For five days no more was seen or heard of the wanderer, +and it was not until the fifth morning that Mr. St. +John observed her, high in the air, fighting fiercely with +some hooded crows. He stood out on the grass, where +there was nothing to hide him, and whistled loudly. In +an instant the falcon heard him, busily engaged though +she was, and wheeled down to her old master, perching on +his arm, and rubbing her beak against him. She did not +seem to have been softened or improved by her taste of +liberty, for she showed herself quite as ready as of old to +attack everything within reach of her chain, first killing +them, and then pulling off their hair or plucking out their +feathers, before she began her meal. The only animal +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>359]</a></span> +which she could not swallow was a mole, and one day +she swooped down on a Skye terrier, and it would certainly +not have escaped alive, had not its master come to the +rescue. But it is time we thought of something nicer +than this dreadful bird.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>360]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>MR. BOLT, THE SCOTCH TERRIER</i></h2> + +<p class="source">Jesse’s <i>British Dogs</i>.</p> + + +<p>All children who know anything of dogs or cats will have +found out very soon that the ugly ones are generally far +cleverer and more sensible than the pretty ones, who are +very apt to think too much of themselves, and will spend +a long time admiring themselves in the glass, just as if +they were vain men and women. Perhaps it is not altogether +their fault if they are stupid, for when they are +shaped well, and have fine glossy coats, their masters and +mistresses spoil them, and give them too much to eat, so +they grow lazy and greedy and disobedient, and like +better to lie on the hearth-rug than to do tricks or jump +over fences.</p> + +<p>Now, luckily for himself, Mr. Bolt, the hero of this +story, was quite a plain dog. There could be no doubt +about it; and those who loved him did so because he +was useful and good company, and not because he was +elegant or graceful. Bolt was a large Scotch terrier, +rough and hairy, with a thick sort of grey fringe, and +great dark eyes looking out from underneath the fringe. +His tail and his legs were very short, and his back was +very long, so long that he reminded one of a furniture +van more than anything else.</p> + +<p>But, clever though he was, Bolt had his faults, and +the worst of them was that he was very apt to take offence +when none was intended, and was far too ready to pick a +quarrel, and to hit out with all his might. He probably +owed some of this love of fighting to the country in which +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>361]</a></span> +he was born; for, although a Scotch dog by descent, he +was Irish by birth, and his earliest home was near Dublin. +As everybody knows, the happiest moment of an Irishman’s +life is when he is fighting something or somebody, +and Bolt in his youth was as reckless as any Irishman of +them all. He was hardly a year old when he turned upon +his own mother, who had done something to displease +him when they were chained together in a stable, and +never let her throat go until she was stone dead. Cats, +too, were his natural enemies, whom he fought and +conquered when no dogs were at hand, and sometimes he +would steal out at night from his master’s bed, where he +always slept, and go for a chase by the light of the moon. +Early one morning a fearful noise was heard in the house, +and when his master, unable to bear it any longer, got +out of bed to see what had happened, he found a strange +cat lying on the stairs quite dead, and the house-cat, with +which Bolt was barely on speaking terms, sitting in a +friendly manner by the side of the conqueror. It is +supposed that the strange cat had been led either by +motives of curiosity or robbery to enter by some open +window, and that the house-cat, unable to drive him out, +had welcomed Bolt’s ready help for the purpose. Fighter +though he was by nature, Bolt had inherited enough +Scotch caution not to begin a quarrel unless he had a +fair chance of victory; but he was generous, and seldom +attacked dogs smaller than himself, unless he was forced +into it, or really had nothing better to do. He always +began by seizing his enemy’s hind leg, which no other +dog had been known to do before, and he had such a +dislike to dogs whose skins were yellow, that not even +the company of ladies, and the responsibility weighing +upon him as their escort, would stop Bolt’s wild rush at +his yellow foe. He hated being shut up too, and showed +amazing cleverness in escaping from prison. If that was +<em>quite</em> impossible, he did the next best thing, which was to +gnaw and destroy every article he could in any way reach. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>362]</a></span> +One day when he had behaved so oddly that his family +feared he must be going mad (children have been known +to frighten their parents in a similar way), he was chained +up in a little room, and, feeling too angry to sleep, he +amused himself all night with tearing a Bible, several +shoes, and a rug, while he gnawed a hole through the +door, and bit through the leg of a table. In the morning, +when his master came to look at him, he seemed quite +recovered, and very well pleased with himself.</p> + +<p>As you will see, Bolt had plenty of faults, but he also +had some very good qualities, and when he did not think +himself insulted by somebody’s behaviour, he could show +a great deal of sense. One night the cook had been +sitting up very late, baking bread for the next day, and +being very tired, she fell asleep by the kitchen fire, and a +spark fell out on her woollen dress. As there was no +blaze, and the girl was a heavy sleeper, she would most +likely never have waked at all till it was too late, only +luckily for her, the smell reached Bolt’s nose as he was +lying curled up on his master’s bed, near the door which +always stood open. Before rousing the house, and giving +them all a great fright, he thought he had better make +sure exactly what was wrong, so he ran first down to the +kitchen from which the smell seemed to come, and finding +the cook half stupefied by the smoke, he rushed back to +call his master. This he managed to do by tearing up +and down the room, leaping on the bed, and pulling off +all the clothes, so that the poor man was quite cold. His +master was much astonished at the state of excitement +Bolt was in, and feared at first that he had gone mad, but +after a few minutes he decided that he would get up and +see what was the matter. Bolt went carefully before him +into the kitchen and sat down by the side of the sleeping +girl, turning his face anxiously to the door, to make sure +that his master should make no mistake. So in a few +seconds the fire was put out, and the girl escaped with +nothing worse than a slight scorching.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>363]</a></span> +I might tell you many stories of Bolt and his funny +ways, but I have only room for one now. After some +time his mistress and her daughter left the house in which +Bolt had spent so many years, and took lodgings in +Dublin. Bolt went with them, but when they all arrived, +the landlady declared she did not like dogs, and Bolt +must be placed elsewhere. Now this was very awkward; +of course it was out of the question that Bolt could be +left behind, yet it was too late to make other arrangements, +so after some consideration he was sent back to +some lodgings near by, where his master had formerly +lived, and where they promised to take great care of him. +His young mistress called every day to carry him off for +a walk, and she often tried to get him to enter the house +she herself was living in, but nothing would persuade the +offended Bolt to go inside the door. He would sit on the +step for some time, hoping she would be persuaded to +return with <em>him</em>, but when he found <em>that</em> was hopeless, he +walked proudly back to his own rooms. His mistresses +stayed in that house for nearly a year, and in all that +time Bolt never forgot or forgave the slight put upon +him, or could be induced to enter the house. Indeed, his +feelings were so bitterly hurt, that even when they all set +up house again, it was months before Bolt could be got to +do anything more than pay his family a call now and +then, and sometimes dine with them. So you see it is a +serious thing to offend a dog, and he needs to be as +delicately handled as a human being.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>364]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>A RAVEN’S FUNERAL</i></h2> + + +<p>In the days of Tiberius the Emperor, there was a young +raven hatched in a nest upon the church of Castor and +Pollux; which to make a trial how he could fly, took his +first flight into a shoemaker’s shop just over against the +said church. The master of the shop was well enough +content to receive this bird, as commended to him from so +sacred a place, and in that regard set great store by it. +This raven in short time being acquainted to man’s speech, +began to speak, and every morning would fly up to the +top of the Rostra, or public pulpit for orations, when, +turning to the open Forum or market place, he would +salute and bid good-morrow to Tiberius Cæsar, and after +him to Germanicus and Drusus, the young princes, every +one by their names: and anon the people of Rome also +that passed by. And when he had so done, afterwards +would fly again to the shoemaker’s shop aforesaid. This +duty practised, yea and continued for many years together, +to the great wonder and admiration of all men.</p> + +<p>Now it fell out so, that another shoemaker who had +taken the next shop unto him, either upon a malicious +envy or some sudden spleen and passion of anger, killed +the raven. Whereat the people took such indignation, +that they, rising in an uproar, first drove him out of that +street, and made that quarter of the city too hot for him; +and not long after murdered him for it. But contrariwise, +the carcase of this raven was solemnly interred, and the +funeral performed with all the ceremonial obsequies that +could be devised. For the corpse of this bird was bestowed +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365"><!-- original location of Funeral illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>367]</a></span> +in a coffin, couch, or bed, and the same bedecked with +chaplets of fresh flowers of all sorts, carried upon the +shoulders of two blackamoors, with minstrels before, +sounding the haut-boys, and playing on the fife, as far as +the funeral fire, which was piled and made in the right +hand of the causey Appia, in a certain plain or open +field.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="illo61" id="illo61"></a> +<img src="images/asb61.jpg" width="600" height="360" +alt="The people accompany the body of the raven through the streets" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">A RAVEN’S FUNERAL</p> + +<p>So highly reputed the people of Rome that ready wit +and apt disposition in a bird, as they thought it a sufficient +cause to ordain a sumptuous burial therefore.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>368]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>A STRANGE TIGER</i></h2> + +<p class="source">Bingley’s <i>Animal Biography</i>.</p> + + +<p>In the year 1790, a baby tiger only six weeks old, +whose skin was most beautifully marked in black and +yellow, and whose figure was as perfectly modelled as the +figure of any tiger could be, was put on board a large +East India Company’s ship called the ‘Pitt,’ to be brought +to London as a present to George III. Of course, in +those days, no one ever thought of coming through the +Red Sea, but all vessels sailed all the way round by the +Atlantic, so the voyage naturally took many months, +especially if the winds were unfavourable. Under these +circumstances it was as well to choose your fellow-passengers +carefully, as you had to live such a long time with +them.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="illo62" id="illo62"></a> +<img src="images/asb62.jpg" width="600" height="331" +alt="The tiger stretches out in his cage with his friend the dog" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE TIGER AND HIS FRIEND</p> + +<p>Unlike most of its tribe, the little tiger soon made +itself at home on board ship, and as it was too small to +do much harm, it was allowed to run about loose and +played with anybody who had time for a game. It generally +liked to sleep with the sailors in their hammocks, +and they would often pretend to use it for a pillow, as +it lay at full length on the deck. Partly out of fun, +and partly because it was its nature so to do, the tiger +would every now and then steal a piece of meat, if it found +one handy. One day it was caught red-handed by the +carpenter, who took the beef right out of its mouth, and +gave it a good beating, but instead of the man getting +bitten for his pains, as he might have expected, the tiger +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369"><!-- original location of Tiger illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>371]</a></span> +took his punishment quite meekly, and bore the carpenter +no grudge after. One of its favourite tricks was to run +out to the very end of the bowsprit, and stand there looking +over the sea, and there was no place in the whole +ship to which it would not climb when the fancy took it. +But on the whole, the little tiger preferred to have company +in its gambols, and was especially fond of dogs, of +which there were several on board. They would chase each +other and roll over together just like two puppies, and +during the ten months or so that the voyage from China +lasted, they had time enough to become fast friends. +When the vessel reached London, the tiger was at once +taken to the Tower, which was the Zoological Gardens of +those days. The little fellow did not mind, for he was +always ready to take what came and make the best of it, +and all the keepers grew as fond of him as the sailors had +been.</p> + +<p>No more is known about him for eleven months, when +he was quite grown up, and then one day, just after he +had had his dinner, a black rough-haired terrier pup was +put into his cage. Most tigers would have eaten it at +once, but not this one, who still remembered his early +friends on board ship. He used to watch for the pup +every day, and lick it all over, taking care never to hurt it +with his rough tongue. In general, the terrier had its +food outside the cage, but sometimes it was forgotten, and +then it would try to snatch a bit of the tiger’s meat; but +this the tiger thought impertinent, and made the dog +understand that it was the one thing he would not stand.</p> + +<p>After several months of close companionship, the +terrier was for some reason taken away, and one day, +when the tiger awakened from his after-dinner nap, he +found the terrier gone, and a tiny Dutch mastiff in its +place. He was surprised, but as usual made no fuss, +and proceeded to give it a good lick, much to the alarm of +the little mastiff. However, its fright soon wore off, and +in a day or two it might be seen barking round him and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>372]</a></span> +even biting his feet, which the tiger never objected to, +perhaps because he could hardly have felt it.</p> + +<p>Two years after the tiger had been settled in the Tower, +the very same carpenter who had beaten him for stealing +the beef came back to England and at once paid a visit +to his old friend. The tiger was enchanted to see him, +and rushing to the grating, began rubbing himself against +it with delight. The carpenter begged to be let into the +cage, and though the keepers did not like it, he declared +there was no danger, and at last they opened the door. +In a moment the tiger was by his side, nearly knocking +him down with joy and affection, licking his hands and +rubbing his head on his shoulders, and when, after two +or three hours, the carpenter got up to go, the tiger would +hardly let him leave the den, for he wanted to keep him +there for ever.</p> + +<p>But all tigers cannot be judged by this tiger.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>373]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>HALCYONS AND THEIR BIOGRAPHERS</i></h2> + + +<p>Some of the old writers, such as Pliny, Plutarch, Ovid, +and Aristotle, tell a pretty story about a bird called the +halcyon, which flew sporting over the seas, and in midwinter, +when the days were shortest, sat on its nest and +brooded over its eggs. And Neptune, who loved these +small, gay-plumaged creatures, took pity on them, and +kept the waves still during the time of their sitting, so +that by-and-bye the days in a man’s life that were free +from storm and tempest became known as his ‘halcyon +days,’ by which name you will still hear them called.</p> + +<p>Now after a careful comparison of the descriptions of +the ancient writers, modern naturalists have come to the +conclusion that the ‘halcyon’ of Pliny and the rest was +no other than our beautiful kingfisher, which flashes its +lovely green and blue along the rivers and cascades both +of the Old World and the New. It is now known that the +kingfisher is one of the burrowing birds, and that it scoops +out in the sand or soft earth of the river banks a passage +which is often as much as four feet long and grows +wider as it recedes from the water. It feeds upon fish, and +fish bones may be found in large numbers on the floor of the +kingfisher’s house, which, either from laziness or a dislike +to change, he inhabits for years together. His eyes are +wonderfully quick, and he can detect a fish even in turbulent +waters from the bough of a tree. Then he makes a +rapid dart, and rarely misses his prey. No bird has been +the subject of so many superstitions and false stories as +the kingfisher, which attracted much attention from its +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>374]</a></span> +great beauty. Ovid changes the king of Magnesia and his +wife Alcyone into kingfishers, Pliny talks of the bird’s +sweet voice (whereas its note is particularly harsh and +ugly), and Plutarch mistakes the sea-urchin’s shell for +that of the halcyon. Even the Tartars have a story to tell +of this bird, and assure us that a feather plucked from a +kingfisher and then cast into the water will gain the love +of every woman it afterwards touches, while the Ostiacs +held that the possession of the skin, bill, and claws of +the kingfisher will ensure the owner a life made up of +‘halcyon days.’</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>375]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>THE STORY OF A FROG</i></h2> + + +<h3>PART I</h3> + +<p>Everyone knows what excitement the approach of the +shooting season causes to a certain class of people in +Paris. One is perpetually meeting some of them on their +way back from the canal where they have been ‘getting +their hands in’ by popping at larks and sparrows, dragging +a dog after them, and stopping each acquaintance to +ask: ‘Do you like quails and partridges?’ ‘Certainly.’ +‘Ah, well, I’ll send you some about the second or third of +next month.’ ‘Many thanks.’ ‘By the way I hit five +sparrows out of eight shots just now. Not bad, was it?’ +‘First rate indeed!’</p> + +<p>Well, towards the end of August, 1830, one of these +sportsmen called at No. 109, in the Faubourg St.-Denis, +and on being told that Décamps was at home, climbed to +the fifth floor, dragging his dog up step by step, and +knocking his gun against every corner till he reached +the studio of that eminent painter. However, he only +found his brother Alexandre, one of those brilliant +and original persons whose inherent laziness alone +prevented his bringing his great natural gifts to +perfection.</p> + +<p>He was universally voted a very good fellow, for his +easy good nature made him ready to do or give whatever +anyone asked. It was not surprising, therefore, that the +new comer soon managed to persuade Alexandre that +nothing could be more delightful than to attend the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>376]</a></span> +opening of the shooting season on the plains of St.-Denis, +where, according to general report, there were swarms of +quails, clouds of partridges, and troops of hares.</p> + +<p>As a result of this visit, Alexandre Décamps ordered a +shooting coat from his tailor, a gun from the first gun-maker’s +in Paris, and a pair of gaiters from an equally +celebrated firm; all of which cost him 660 francs, not to +mention the price of his licence.</p> + +<p>On August 31 Alexandre discovered that one important +item was still wanting to his outfit—a dog. He went at +once to a man who had supplied various models to his +brother Eugène’s well-known picture of ‘performing +dogs,’ and asked if he happened to have any sporting +dogs.</p> + +<p>The man declared he had the very thing, and going to +the kennel promptly whipped off the three-cornered hat +and little coat worn by a black and white mongrel whom +he hastened to present to his customer as a dog of the +purest breed. Alexandre hinted that it was not usual for +a pointer to have such sharp-pointed ears, but the dealer +replied that ‘Love’ was an English dog, and that it was +considered the very best form for English dogs to have +pointed ears. As this statement <em>might</em> be true, Alexandre +made no further objections, but paid for the dog and took +Love home with him.</p> + +<p>At five o’clock next morning Alexandre was roused up +by his sporting friend, who, scolding him well for not +being ready earlier, hurried him off as fast as possible, +declaring the whole plain would be shot before they could +get there.</p> + +<p>It was certainly a curious sight; not a swallow, not +even the meanest little sparrow, could rise without a +volley of shots after it, and everyone was anxiously on the +look-out for any and every sort of bird that could possibly +be called game.</p> + +<p>Alexandre’s friend was soon bitten by the general +fever and threw himself energetically amidst the excited +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>377]</a></span> +crowd, whilst Alexandre strolled along more calmly, +dutifully followed by Love. Now everyone knows that +the first duty of any sporting dog is to scour the field and +<em>not</em> to count the nails in his master’s boots. This thought +naturally occurred to Alexandre, and he accordingly made +a sign to Love and said: ‘Seek!’</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"> +<a name="illo63" id="illo63"></a> +<img src="images/asb63.jpg" width="350" height="490" +alt="Love dances around on his hind legs" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">LOVE’S DISGRACEFUL BEHAVIOUR OUT SHOOTING</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>378]</a></span> +Love promptly stood up on his hind legs and began +to dance.</p> + +<p>‘Dear me,’ said Alexandre, as he lowered his gun and +contemplated his dog: ‘It appears that Love unites the +lighter accomplishments to his more serious education. +I seem to have made rather a good bargain.’ However, +having bought Love to point and not to dance, he waited +till the dance was over and repeated in firm tones: +‘Seek!’</p> + +<p>Love stretched himself out at full length and appeared +to be dead.</p> + +<p>Alexandre put his glass into his eye and inspected +Love. The intelligent creature was perfectly immovable; +not a hair on his body stirred, he might have been dead +for twenty-four hours.</p> + +<p>‘This is all very pretty,’ said Alexandre, ‘but, my +friend, this is not the time for these jokes. We are here +to shoot—let us shoot. Come! get up.’</p> + +<p>Love did not stir an inch.</p> + +<p>‘Wait a bit,’ remarked Alexandre, as he picked up a +stick from the ground and took a step towards Love, +intending to stir him up with it: ‘Wait a bit.’ But no +sooner did Love see the stick in his master’s hand than +he sprang to his feet and eagerly watched his movements. +Alexandre thinking the dog was at last going to obey, held +the stick towards him, and for the third time ordered him +to ‘seek.’</p> + +<p>Love took a run and sprang gracefully over the stick.</p> + +<p>Love could do three things to perfection—dance on +his hind legs, sham dead, and jump for the king!</p> + +<p>Alexandre, however, who did not appreciate the third +accomplishment any more than he had done the two +others, broke the stick over Love’s back, which sent him +off howling to his master’s friend.</p> + +<p>As fate would have it the friend fired at that very +moment, and an unfortunate lark fell right into Love’s +jaws. Love thankfully accepted this windfall, and made +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>379]</a></span> +but one mouthful of the lark. The infuriated sportsman +threw himself on the dog, and seizing him by the throat +to force open his jaws, thrust in his hand and drew out—three +tail feathers: the bird itself was not to be thought +of.</p> + +<p>Bestowing a vicious kick on the unhappy Love, he +turned on Alexandre, exclaiming: ‘Never again do you +catch me shooting with you. Your brute of a dog has +just devoured a superb quail. Ah! come here if you +dare, you rascal!’</p> + +<p>Poor Love had not the least wish to go near him. He +ran as fast as he could to his master, a sure proof that he +preferred blows to kicks.</p> + +<p>However, the lark seemed to have whetted Love’s +appetite: and perceiving creatures of apparently the same +kind rise now and then from the ground, he took to +scampering about in hopes of some second piece of good +luck.</p> + +<p>Alexandre had some difficulty in keeping up with him, +for Love hunted his game after a fashion of his own, that +is to say with his head up and his tail down. This would +seem to prove that his sight was better than his scent, +but it was particularly objectionable to his master, for he +put up the birds before they were within reach, and then +ran barking after them. This went on nearly all day.</p> + +<p>Towards five o’clock Alexandre had walked about +fifteen miles and Love at least fifty; the former was +exhausted with calling and the latter with barking, when, +all of a sudden Love began to point, so firmly and steadily +that he seemed changed to stone.</p> + +<p>At this surprising sight Alexandre, forgetful of all his +fatigues and disappointments, hurried up, trembling lest +Love should break off before he could get within reach. +No fear; Love might have been glued to the spot. Alexandre +came up to him, noted the direction of his eyes +and saw that they were fixed on a tuft of grass, and that +under this grass there appeared to be some greyish object. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>380]</a></span> +Thinking it must be a young bird which had strayed from +its covey, he laid down his gun, took his cap in his hand, +and cautiously creeping near, like a child about to catch +a butterfly, he flung the cap over the unknown object, put +in his hand and drew out—a frog!</p> + +<p>Anyone else would have flung the frog away, but +Alexandre philosophically reflected that there must certainly +be some great future in store for this, the sole result +of his day’s sport; so he accordingly put the frog carefully +into his game bag and brought it home, where he +transferred it to an empty glass jam jar and poured the +contents of his water-bottle on its head.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 224px;"> +<a name="illo64" id="illo64"></a> +<img src="images/asb64.jpg" width="224" height="195" +alt="A frog" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE SOLE RESULT OF HIS DAY’S SPORT</p> + +<p>So much care and trouble for a frog may appear +excessive; but Alexandre knew what this particular frog +had cost him, and he treated it accordingly.</p> + +<p>It had cost him 660 francs, without counting his +licence.</p> + + +<h3>PART II</h3> + +<p>‘Ah, ah!’ cried Dr. Thierry as he entered the studio +next day, ‘so you’ve got a new inmate.’ And without +paying any attention to Tom’s friendly growls or to +Jacko’s engaging grimaces, he walked straight up to the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>381]</a></span> +jar which contained Mademoiselle Camargo—as she had +already been named.<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> +A fashionable dancer in Paris.</p> +</div> + +<p>Mademoiselle Camargo, unaware that Thierry was not +only a learned doctor, but also a most intellectual and +delightful person, fell to swimming round and round her +jar as fast as she could go, which however did not prevent +her being seized by one of her hind legs.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 228px;"> +<a name="illo65" id="illo65"></a> +<img src="images/asb65.jpg" width="228" height="350" +alt="The frog in a tall jar with water and a ladder" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">MADEMOISELLE CAMARGO BECOMES A BAROMETER</p> + +<p>‘Dear me,’ said Thierry, as he turned the little creature +about, ‘a specimen of the <i>Rana temporaria</i>. See, +there are the two black spots near the eyes which give it +the name. Now if you only had a few dozens of this +species, I should advise you to have a fricassée made of +their hind legs, to send for a couple of bottles of good +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>382]</a></span> +claret, and to ask me to dinner. But as you only happen +to have one, we will, with your leave, content ourselves +with making a barometer.</p> + +<p>‘Now,’ said Thierry, opening a drawer, ‘let us attend +to the prisoner’s furniture.’ Saying which he took out +two cartridges, a gimlet, a penknife, two paint-brushes, +and four matches. Décamps watched him without in the +least understanding the object of all these preparations, +which the doctor was making with as much care as though +for some surgical operation.</p> + +<p>First he emptied the powder out of the cartridges into +a tray and kept the bullets. Then he threw the brushes +and ties to Jacko and kept the handles.</p> + +<p>‘What the deuce are you about?’ cried Décamps, +snatching his two best paint-brushes from Jacko. ‘Why +you’re ruining my establishment!’</p> + +<p>‘I’m making a ladder,’ gravely replied Thierry.</p> + +<p>And true enough, having bored holes in the bullets, +he fixed the brush handles into them so as to form the +sides of the ladder, using the matches to make the rungs. +Five minutes later the ladder was completed and placed +in the jar, where the weight of the bullets kept it firmly +down.</p> + +<p>No sooner did Mademoiselle Camargo find herself the +owner of this article of furniture than she prepared to test +it by climbing up to the top rung.</p> + +<p>‘We shall have rain,’ said Thierry.</p> + +<p>‘You don’t say so,’ replied Décamps, ‘and there’s my +brother who wanted to go out shooting again to-day.’</p> + +<p>‘Mademoiselle Camargo does not advise his doing so,’ +remarked the doctor.</p> + +<p>‘How so?’</p> + +<p>‘My dear friend, I have been providing you with an +inexpensive but reliable barometer. Each time you see +Mademoiselle Camargo climb to the top of her ladder it’s +a sure sign of rain; when she remains at the bottom you +may count on fine weather, and if she goes up half-way, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>383]</a></span> +don’t venture out without your umbrella; changeable, +changeable.’</p> + +<p>‘Dear me, dear me,’ said Décamps.</p> + +<p>During the next six months Mademoiselle Camargo +continued to foretell the weather with perfect and unerring +regularity. But for painful reasons into which we +need not inquire too closely, Mademoiselle’s useful career +soon closed, and she left a blank in the ménagerie.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>384]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>THE WOODPECKER TAPPING ON THE +HOLLOW OAK TREE</i></h2> + + +<p>Most children who were taught music forty or fifty years +ago, learnt as one of their first tunes an air called ‘The +Woodpecker Tapping on the Hollow Oak Tree.’ Oak trees +are not the only ones that woodpeckers, and especially +American woodpeckers, ‘tap’ on. There is hardly any +old tree which they disdain to work upon, sometimes for +food, sometimes for nesting purposes, sometimes it would +seem merely for the sake of employment and of keeping +their bills in order.</p> + +<p>For the woodpecker’s bill is a very powerful instrument, +and can get through a great deal of work. In the +case of the ‘ivory-billed woodpecker,’ it is not only white, +and hard, and strong, but it has a ribbed surface, which +tends to prevent its breaking, and even if he does not form +one of this class, the woodpecker is as clever in his own +line as any carpenter, and more industrious than many. +The moment that he notices symptoms of decay in any +tree, he flies off to make a careful examination of it, and +when he has decided on the best mode of attack, he loses +no time, and has even been known to strip all the bark +off a dead pine tree of thirty feet long in less than twenty +minutes. And this not in little bits, but in sheets five or +six feet long, and as whole as the fleece of a sheep when +it is sheared.</p> + +<p>Of course different varieties of woodpeckers have little +differences in their habits, in the same way that habits +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>385]</a></span> +differ in different families; but certain customs and ways +of digging are common to them all. Every woodpecker, +for instance, when placed in a wooden cage, will instantly +set to work to dig himself out of it, and to keep him safe, +he needs to be surrounded by wire, against which his bill +is utterly useless. In general the male and female work +by turns at the hole, which is always begun by the male, +and is as perfectly round as if it had been measured and +drawn from one point to another. For a while the boring +is quite straight, and then it takes a sloping direction, so +as to provide a partial shelter against the rain. Sometimes +the bird will begin by a slope, and end in a direct +line, but the hole is never straight all through, and the +depth varies from two to five feet, according to the kind +of woodpecker that is digging. The inside of the nest and +the passage to it are as smooth as if they had been +polished with a plane, and the chips of wood are often +thrown down in a careless manner, at some distance, in +order that attention may not be attracted to the spot. +Often the bird’s labours have to begin, especially in +orchards, which are favourite nesting places with them, +with having to turn out swarms of insects, nestling comfortably +between the bark and the tree. These he either +kills or eats; anyhow he never rests until they are safely +got rid of.</p> + +<p>The woodpecker is never still, and, in many respects, +is like a mischievous boy; so, as can be imagined, he is +not very easy to make a pet of. One adventurous person, +however, captured a woodpecker in America, and has +left us a history of its performances during the three +days it lived in captivity. The poor bird was very +miserable in its prison, and cried so like a child that many +persons were completely taken in. Left alone for a short +time in the room while his captor had gone to look after +his horse, he examined the room carefully to see where +lay his best chance of escape. His quick eye soon +detected the plaster between the window and the ceiling, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>386]</a></span> +and he began at once to attack the weak place. He +worked so hard that when his master returned he had laid +bare the laths, and had bored a hole bigger than his own +head, while the bed was strewn with big fragments of +plaster. A very little while longer and he would have +been free, and what a pity that he was disturbed in his +work! But his master was most anxious to keep him a +little longer, to observe his ways, so he tied him to the +leg of the table, and went off to get him some food. By +the time the man came back the mahogany table was +lying in bits about the floor, and the woodpecker was +looking eagerly round to see what other mischief he could +do. He would not eat food of any kind, and died in three +days, to the great regret of his captor.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>387]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>DOGS OVER THE WATER</i></h2> + + +<p>No animal, not even the horse, has made itself so many +friends as the dog. A whole library might be filled with +stories about what dogs have done, and men could learn +a great deal from the sufferings dogs have gone through +for masters that they love.</p> + +<p>Whatever differences there may be between foreigners +and Englishmen, there is at any rate none in the behaviour +of British and foreign dogs. ‘Love me, love my dog,’ the +proverb runs, but in general it would be much more to the +point to say ‘love my dog, love me.’ We do not know +anything of the Austrian officer of whose death I am going +to tell you, but after hearing what his dog did, we should +all have been pleased to make the master’s acquaintance.</p> + +<p>In the early years of this century, when nearly every +country in Europe was turned into a battlefield by +Napoleon, there was a tremendous fight between the +French and the Austrians at Castiglione in Lombardy, +which was then under the Austrian yoke. The battle was +hard fought and lasted several hours, but at length the +Austrian ranks were broken and they had to retreat, after +frightful losses on both sides. After the field had been +won, Napoleon, as his custom was, walked round among +the dead and dying, to see for himself how the day had +gone. Not often had he performed this duty amidst a +greater scene of blood and horror, and as he came to a +spot where the dead were lying thickest, he saw to his +surprise a small long-eared spaniel standing with his feet +on the breast of an Austrian officer, and his eyes fixed on +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>388]</a></span> +his face, waiting to detect the slightest movement. Absorbed +in his watch, the dog never heard the approach of +the Emperor and his staff, but Napoleon called to one of +his attendants and pointed out the spaniel. At the sound +of his voice the spaniel turned round, and looked at the +Emperor, as if he knew that to him only he must appeal +for help. And the prayer was not in vain, for Napoleon +was very seldom needlessly cruel. The officer was dead +and beyond any aid from him, but the Emperor did what +he could, and gave orders that the dog should be looked +after by one of his own men, and the wounded Austrians +carefully tended. <em>He</em> knew what it was to be loved as +blindly by men as that officer was loved by his dog.</p> + +<p>Nearly two years before this time, France was trembling +in the power of a set of bloody ruffians, and in Paris +especially no man felt his head to be safe from one hour +to the other. Hundreds of harmless people were clapped +into prison on the most paltry charges, and if they were +not torn to pieces by infuriated crowds, they ended their +lives on the guillotine.</p> + +<div class="figcenter ipadbase" style="width: 412px;"> +<a name="illo66" id="illo66"></a> +<img src="images/asb66.jpg" width="412" height="565" +alt="The faithful spaniel" /> +</div> + +<p>Among the last of the victims before the fall of Robespierre, +which finished the Reign of Terror, was a magistrate +in one of the departments in the North of France +whom everyone looked up to and respected. It may be +thought that it would not have been easy to find a pretext +for throwing into prison a man of such an open and +honourable life, but when other things failed, a vague +accusation of conspiracy against the Government was +always possible, and accordingly the magistrate was arrested +in his own house. No one was there to help him +or to share his confinement. He had long sent away his +children to places of safety; some of his relations were in +gaol like himself, and his friends dared not come forward. +They could have done him no good, and would only have +shared his fate. In those dark days every man had to suffer +alone, and nobly they did it. Only one friend the magistrate +had who ventured openly to show his affection, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389"><!-- original location of Spaniel illustration --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390"><!-- blank page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>391]</a></span> +even <em>he</em> might go no farther than the prison doors, namely, +his spaniel, who for twelve years had scarcely left his side; +but though dogs were not yet proscribed, the spaniel’s +whinings availed nothing, and the gates were shut against +him. At first he refused to believe that his master would +never come back, and returned again and again with the +hopes of meeting the magistrate on his way home. At last +the dog’s spirits gave way, and he went to the house of a +friend of the family who knew him well, and received him +kindly. Even here, however, he had to be carefully hidden +lest his protector should be charged with sheltering the dog +of an accused person, and have to pay the penalty on the +guillotine. The animal seemed to know what was expected +of him, and never barked or growled as dogs love to +do; and indeed he was too sad to take any interest in +what was going on around him. The only bright spot in +his day was towards evening when he was secretly let out, +and he made straight for the gate of the prison. The gate +was never opened, but he always hoped that <em>this</em> time it +would be, and sat on and on till he felt that his chance +was gone for that day. All the prison officials knew him +by sight, and were sorry for him, and one day the gaoler’s +heart was softened, and he opened the doors, and led him +to his master’s cell. It would be difficult to say which of +the two was the happier, and when the time came for the +prisoners to be locked up for the night, the man could +scarcely tear away the dog, so closely did he cling to his +master. However, there was no help for it, he had to be +put outside, lest it should occur to some one in authority +to make a visit of inspection to the prison. Next evening +the dog returned at the same hour and was again admitted, +and when his time was up, he went home with a light +heart, sure that by sunset next day he would be with his +beloved master.</p> + +<p>This went on for several weeks, and the dog, at any +rate, would have been quite satisfied if it had gone on for +ever. But one morning the magistrate was told that he +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>392]</a></span> +was to be brought before his judges to make answer to +his charge and receive his sentence. In the midst of a +vast crowd, which dared not show sympathy even if it +felt it, the magistrate pleaded for the last time, without a +friend to give him courage except his dog, which had +somehow forced himself through guards and crowd, and +lay crouched between his legs, happy at this unexpected +chance of seeing his master.</p> + +<p>Sentence of death was pronounced, as was inevitable, +and the hour of execution was not long delayed. In the +wonderful way that animals always <em>do</em> know when something +out of the common is passing, the spaniel was +sitting outside the door when his master walked out for +the last time, although it was long before the hour of his +daily visit. Alone, of all the friends that he had known +and loved, his dog went with him, and stood beside him +on the steps of the guillotine, and sat at his feet when his +head fell. Vaguely the spaniel was aware that something +terrible had happened; his master, who had never failed +him before, would not speak to him now. It was in vain +to lick his hand: he got no pat in answer. But if his +master was asleep, and his bed was underground, then +he too must sleep by his side till the morning came and +the world awoke again.</p> + +<p>So two nights passed, and three. Then his friend, +who had sheltered him during these long weeks, came to +look for him, and, after much coaxing and caressing, persuaded +him to return to his old hiding-place. With great +difficulty he was induced to swallow some food, but the +moment his protector’s back was turned, he rushed out +and fought his way to his master’s grave.</p> + +<p>This lasted for three months, and every day the dog +looked sadder and thinner than the day before. At length +his friend thought he would try a new plan with him, +and tied him firmly up. But in the morning he found +that the dog had, like Samson, broken through his bonds, +and was lying on the grave, which he never left again. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>393]</a></span> +Food was brought to him—he never came to seek it himself, +and in time he refused even what was lying there +before him. One day his friends found him trying to +scratch up the earth where his master lay; and all at +once his strength gave way, and with one howl he died, +showing the two men who stood around of love that was +stronger than death, and fidelity that lasted beyond the +grave.<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> +From <i>Observations in Natural History</i>.</p> +</div> + +<p>One more story of a little dog—this time an English +one—and I have done.</p> + +<p>It was on February 8, 1587, that Mary Queen of Scots +ended her eighteen years of weary captivity upon a scaffold +at Fotheringay. Carefully dressed in a robe of black velvet, +with a long mantle of satin floating above it, and her head +covered with a white crape veil, Mary ascended the platform, +where the executioner was awaiting her. Some +English nobles, sent by Queen Elizabeth to see that her +orders were carried out, were standing by, and some of +Queen Mary’s faithful women. But besides these was one +whose love for her was hardly less—the Queen’s little +dog, who had been her constant companion in the prison. +‘He was sitting there the whole time,’ says an eye-witness, +‘keeping very quiet, and never stirring from her side; +but as soon as the head was stricken off and placed upon +the seat, he began to bestir himself and cry out; afterwards +he took up a position between the body and the +head, which he kept until some one came and removed +him, and this had to be done by violence.’ We are not +told who took him away and tenderly washed off the +blood of Mary which was staining his coat, but we may +be sure that it was one of the Queen’s ladies who cherished +everything that belonged to her, and in memory of her +mistress would care for her little dog to the end of its +days.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>394]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>THE CAPOCIER AND HIS MATE</i></h2> + + +<p>When Vaillant the traveller was in Africa, he made the +acquaintance of a bird to which he gave the name of +capocier. It was a small creature, which was in the +habit of coming with its mate several times a day into +Vaillant’s tent; a proceeding which he thought arose +from pure friendship, but which he soon found sprang +from interested motives. Vaillant was making a collection +of birds, and his table was strewn about with moss, wool, +and such things as he used for stuffing. The capocier, +with more sense than might have been expected of him, +found out very soon that it was much easier to steal +Vaillant’s soft material than to collect it laboriously for +himself, and the naturalist used to shut his eyes with +amusement while the birds flew off with a parcel of stuffing +as big as themselves.</p> + +<p>He followed them, and tracked them to a bush which +grew by a spring in the corner of a deserted garden. Here +they had placed a thick layer of moss, in a fork of one of +the branches, and were now engaged in weaving in grass, +cotton, and flax. The whole of the second day the little +pair worked hard, the male making in all forty-six journeys +to Vaillant’s room, for thieving purposes. The spoil was +always laid either on the nest itself, or within the reach +of the female, and when enough had been collected, they +both trampled it in, and pressed it down with their +bodies.</p> + +<p>At last the male got tired, and tried to prevail on his +wife to play a game. She declined, and said she had no +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>395]</a></span> +time for such things; so, to revenge himself, the male +proceeded to pull to pieces her work. Seeing that he +would have his own way, the female at length consented +to play for a little, and fluttered from bush to bush, while +her mate flew after her, but she always managed to keep +just out of his reach. When he had had enough, he let +her go back to her work, while he sang a song for a little, +and then made ready to help build the nest. He found, +or stole, the materials necessary, and carried them back +to his wife, who packed them firmly in and made all tidy. +But her husband was much more idle than she, and he +soon tired of steady labour. He complained of the heat, +and laughed at her for being in such a hurry, and said +there was plenty of time before them, and he wanted a +little fun. So eight times during that one morning the +poor wife had to leave off her building, and hide her impatience, +and pretend to play, when she would much +rather have been doing something else, and it was three +days before the bottom was finished and the sides begun.</p> + +<p>Certainly the making of the bottom <em>was</em> rather a +troublesome business; for the birds had to roll over every +part of it, so as to get it firm and hard. Then, when all +was right, they made a border, which they first trimmed +round, and next overlaid with cotton, pressing it all together +with their breasts and shoulders. The twigs of +the bush in which the nest was built were interlaced into +the sides to prevent the whole structure being blown +down, and particular care was taken that none of them +should stick out in the inside of the nest, which was +absolutely smooth and solid. After seven days it was +done, and very pretty it was. It was perfectly white in +colour, and about nine inches high on the outside where +it had been made very thick, and not more than five +inches within. However that was quite big enough for +two such little people.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>396]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>OWLS AND MARMOTS</i></h2> + + +<p>It is curious, when we come to think of it, how very few +of the creatures that live upon the earth ever take the +trouble to build any kind of house to live in. For the most +part, they are contented to find out some cave or hole or +convenient place where they can be hidden, and from +which they can steal forth to get their food, but as for +collecting materials from the outside to make their +dwelling place stronger or more beautiful, as do the +beavers, for instance, why, we might all look for many +years before we should find a horse or a tiger employing +himself like that!</p> + +<p>Yet we all know that all the birds that live (the +cuckoo excepted) manage to build some kind of a nest, +and so do some fishes and many insects. It would take +too long to write about them all, but we will just see +how some of the cleverest among them go to work.</p> + +<p>One of the first things that struck Europeans travelling +sixty or seventy years ago in the wild country beyond +the great Mississippi, was the fact that whole districts, +sometimes several acres in extent and sometimes several +miles, were covered with little mounds of the shape of a +pyramid, about two feet wide at the bottom, and at +the most eighteen inches high. These are the houses of +the marmots or prairie dogs, and when deserted as they +often are by their original inhabitants, they become the +homes of burrowing owls.</p> + +<p>Now a neat, comfortable, well-built house is really quite +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>397]</a></span> +necessary for the marmot, as he goes fast to sleep when +the weather begins to get cold, and does not wake up till +the sun is shining warmly again on the earth above him. +Then he sets to work, either to repair the walls of his +house which have been damaged by the heavy rains and +hard frosts, or if that seems useless labour, to dig a fresh +one somewhere else. But industrious as he is, the hard +work does not make the marmot at all a ‘dull boy,’ and +he can still spare time for a good game now and then.</p> + +<p>Of course, as we are talking about birds, perhaps we +ought not to be describing marmots, which are naturally +not birds at all; but as they build for the burrowing owls +to inhabit, a description of the houses may not be out of +place.</p> + +<p>The entrance to the marmot’s house is either at the +top or on the side of the little mound above ground. +Then he hollows out a passage straight down for one, or +sometimes two feet, and this passage is continued in a +sloping direction for some distance further, when it +leads, like a story in the ‘Arabian Nights,’ into a large +warm room, built of soft dry grass, which has been +packed into a tight, firm mass. In general the outside of +the little mounds is covered with small plants and +grasses, so that the marmot always has his food near at +hand, but occasionally they prefer to make their villages +in barren spots, as being safer from enemies. Still, +wherever they are, the sociable little colony of marmots +are said to be haunted by at least one burrowing owl, a +bird about nine inches long, and from a distance not very +unlike the marmot itself, when it is sitting up, listening +for the approach of danger. If no burrow seems likely to +be vacant at the time he wants one, the owl does not +scruple to turn out the owner, who has to begin all his +labour over again. Sometimes, when affairs above ground +are more than usually disturbed, and foes of all kinds are +prowling about, seeking whom they may devour, owls and +marmots and rattlesnakes, and lizards rush helter-skelter +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>398]</a></span> +into the underground city, taking refuge from the dangers +of the upper world. It would be a strange sight if we +could see it, and it would be stranger still if the fugitives +manage to separate without some of the party having +gone to make the dinners of the rest.</p> + + + +<p class="padtop"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>399]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>EAGLES’ NESTS</i></h2> + + +<p>Eagles, as a rule, build their nests on the shelves of +rocks, high out of reach of any but the boldest climbers. +There are, however, some species among them who prefer +the tops of trees, at a height varying from fifteen to fifty +feet. These nests are constructed of long sticks, grass, +and even reeds, and are often as much as five or six feet +high, and at least four broad. Soft pine tops form the +lining, and a bed for the young. Many eagles are clever +divers, and like the excitement of catching their own fish, +instead of merely forcing the fish-hawks to give up their +prey, and an American naturalist gives an interesting +account of the sporting proceedings of two eagles on the +Green River in Kentucky. The naturalist had been lying +hidden among the rocks on the bank of the river for about +two hours, when suddenly far above his head where the +eagle had built his nest, he heard a loud hissing, and on +looking up, saw that the little eaglets had crawled to +the edge of the nest, and were dancing with hope +and excitement at the idea of a good dinner. In a few +moments the parent eagle reached the rock and balancing +himself on the edge by the help of his wings and tail, +handed over his spoil to the young ones. The little eagles +seemed in luck that day, for soon their mother appeared +in sight carrying in her claws a perch. But either the +watcher below made some movement, or else her eyes +were far sharper than her mate’s, for with a loud cry she +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[<span class="hidden">Pg </span>400]</a></span> +dropped her fish, and hovered over the nest to protect it +in case of an attack. When all was quiet again, the +naturalist went out cautiously to examine the perch, which +he found to weigh as much as 5½ lbs. You do not catch +such big perch in England.</p> + + +<p class="center padtop padbase">THE END.</p> + + + +<div class="bbox"> +<p><b>Transcriber's Note</b></p> + +<p>Some stories have a source provided, which appeared as footnotes in the original book. +The transcriber has instead presented them as subtitles below the main chapter title.</p> + +<p>Archaic and variant spelling is preserved as printed.</p> + +<p>Minor punctuation errors have been repaired.</p> + +<p>Hyphenation has been made consistent.</p> + +<p>The following typographic errors have been repaired:</p> + +<div class="amends"> +<p>Page <a href="#Page_7">7</a>—wrapt amended to rapt—"The waiters, remarking his rapt attention, ..."</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_77">77</a>—be amended to he—"Then, having made a huge fire in front of the entrance, which, moreover, he barricaded ..."</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_144">144</a>—by-and-by amended to by-and-bye, for consistency—"And by-and-bye he came back, dragging Pritchard by his stake."</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_250">250</a>—Then amended to The—"The Ababde chief’s advice was—and always had been—to send out ..."</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_255">255</a>—Northumbriam amended to Northumbrian—"A Northumbrian pointer showed a still more wonderful instance ..."</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_287">287</a>—idemnity amended to indemnity—"... and was quite satisfied with five francs as an indemnity."</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_290">290</a>—quiet amended to quite—"His parents never quite knew what occurred, ..."</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_301">301</a>—coupe amended to coup—"... before the latter gives him the <i>coup de grâce</i>."</p> +</div> + +<p>Illustrations have been moved where necessary so that they are not in the middle of +a paragraph. Omitted page numbers were the original locations of these illustrations +or blank pages.</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Animal Story Book, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ANIMAL STORY BOOK *** + +***** This file should be named 38208-h.htm or 38208-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/2/0/38208/ + +Produced by Louise Davies, Sam W. and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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