"I have often warned you against stories of ghosts and hobgoblins, and shown you on how frail a foundation they generally rest. There is a story in which a cat was one of the principal actors, which contains the elements of as marvellous a tale of this description as could be desired. It happened in the west of Scotland.

"Some years ago, a poor man whose habits of life had always been of the most retired description, giving way to the natural despondency of his disposition, put an end to his existence. The only other inmate of his cottage was a favourite cat, When the deed was discovered, the cat was found assiduously watching over her late master's body, and it was with some difficulty she could be driven away.

"The appalling deed naturally excited a great deal of attention in the surrounding neighbourhood; and on the day after the body was deposited in the grave, which was made at the outside of the church-yard, a number of school-boys ventured thither, to view the resting-place of one who had at times been the subject of village wonder, and whose recent act of self-destruction was invested with additional interest. At first, no one was brave enough to venture near; but at last, the appearance of a hole in the side of the grave irresistibly attracted their attention. Having been minutely examined, it was at length determined that it must have been the work of some body-snatcher, and the story having spread, the grave was minutely examined, but as the body had not been removed, the community considered themselves fortunate in having made so narrow an escape. The turf was replaced, and the grave again carefully covered up.

"On the following morning the turf was again displaced, and a hole, deeper than before, yawned in the side of the sad receptacle. Speculation was soon busy at work, and all sorts of explanations were suggested. In the midst of their speculations, alarmed perhaps by the noise of the disputants, poor puss darted from the hole, much to the confusion of some of the most noisy and dogmatic expounders of the mystery. Again the turf was replaced, and again and again was it removed by the unceasing efforts of the faithful cat to share the resting-place of her deceased master. It was at last found necessary to shoot her, it being found impossible otherwise to put a stop to her unceasing importunities."

"Poor puss! What a pity it should have been necessary to destroy such a faithful animal. I wonder no one tried to gain its affections, and thus charm it from its dreary abode. Uncle Thomas, did you ever hear Dr. Good's account of a very extraordinary instance of sagacity exemplified by his cat? I was very much struck with it when I saw it a day or two ago in his 'Book of Nature.' If you please, I will read it to you."

"Very well, Harry, I shall be glad to hear it; I dare say it is an old acquaintance of mine. I have been such a diligent searcher after stories of this description, that I think very few have escaped me."

"A favourite cat, that was accustomed from day to day to take her station quietly at my elbow, on the writing table, sometimes for hour after hour, whilst I was engaged in study, became at length less constant in her attendance, as she had a kitten to take care of. One morning she placed herself in the same spot, but seemed unquiet, and, instead of seating herself as usual, continued to rub her furry sides against my hand and pen, as though resolved to draw my attention, and make me leave off. As soon as she had accomplished this point, she leaped down on the carpet, and made towards the door, with a look of great uneasiness. I opened the door for her, as she seemed to desire, but, instead of going forward, she turned round, and looked earnestly at me, as though she wished me to follow her, or had something to communicate. I did not fully understand her meaning, and, being much engaged at the time, shut the door upon her, that she might go where she liked.

"In less than an hour afterwards, however, she had again found an entrance into the room, and drawn close to me, but, instead of mounting the table, and rubbing herself against my hand, as before, she was now under the table, and continued to rub herself against my feet, on moving which I struck them against a something which seemed to be in their way, and, on looking down, beheld with equal grief and astonishment the dead body of her little kitten which I supposed had been alive and in good health, covered over with cinder dust. I now entered into the entire train of this afflicted cat's feelings. She had suddenly lost the nursling she doated on, and was resolved to make me acquainted with it,—assuredly that I might know her grief, and probably also that I might inquire into the cause, and, finding me too dull to understand her expressive motioning that I would follow her to the cinder heap, on which the dead kitten had been thrown, she took the great labour of bringing it to me herself, from the area on the basement floor, and up a whole flight of stairs, and laid it at my feet. I took up the kitten in my hand, the cat still following me, made inquiry into the cause of its death, which I found, upon summoning the servants, to have been an accident, in which no one was much to blame; and the yearning mother having thus obtained her object, and gotten her master to enter into her cause, and divide her sorrows with her, gradually took comfort, and resumed her former station by my side."

"Thank you, Harry, I do not think I ever heard that story before. Here is one that will match it however, displaying considerable ingenuity in a cat in the protection of her young.

"A cat belonging to Mr. Stevens, of the Red Lion Hotel, Truro, having been removed from that town to a barn at some distance, soon afterwards produced four kittens. Not wishing the stock increased, Mr. Stevens desired three of them to be drowned, next morning, before opening their eyes on the world. Puss was deeply affected by this bereavement, and resolved on moving her remaining offspring to a place of security. When the person appointed to feed grimalkin went with her breakfast next day, no traces of her or her kitten were to be found. He called; but all was silent as the tomb; every corner was searched in vain; no cat was forthcoming. Here the matter rested for several days, when, at length, early one morning, puss made her appearance in the court of her master's house, a melancholy picture of starvation. Having satisfied her hunger, and loitered about the house during the day, late in the evening she took her departure, carrying away some meat. For several days she continued her visits in the same manner, taking care never to leave home empty-mouthed at night. Her proceedings having excited attention, she was followed by two men, in one of her nocturnal retreats, and traced to the top of a wheat stack, at some distance. On obtaining a ladder, her surviving kitten was found, in a curiously constructed hole, sleek and plump, but as wild as a young tiger, and would allow no one to touch it. A few days afterwards, the mother finding, perhaps, that her own daily journeys were rather fatiguing, or thinking it was time that the object of her solicitude should be introduced into the world, or, probably, that the kitten had attained an age when it could protect itself, she took advantage of a dark and silent night, when cat-worrying dogs and boys were reposing, to convey it safely to Truro, where tabby and her kitten found a welcome reception.

"Though from bad education the cat and dog are generally the most determined enemies, some instances have occurred of the greatest friendship subsisting between these animals. Here is an instance recorded by a French author on the Language of Brutes.

"I had a cat and dog, which became so attached to each other, that they would never willingly be asunder. Whenever the dog got any choice morsel of food, he was sure to divide it with his whiskered friend. They always ate sociably out of one plate, slept in the same bed, and daily walked out together. Wishing to put this apparently sincere friendship to the proof, I, one day, took the cat by herself into my room, while I had the dog guarded in another apartment. I entertained the cat in a most sumptuous manner, being desirous to see what sort of a meal she would make without her friend, who had hitherto been her constant table companion. The cat enjoyed the treat with great glee, and seemed to have entirely forgotten the dog. I had had a partridge for dinner, half of which I intended to keep for supper. My wife covered it with a plate, and put it into a cupboard, the door of which she did not lock. The cat left the room, and I walked out upon business. My wife, meanwhile, sat at work in an adjoining apartment. When I returned home, she related to me the following circumstances:—The cat, having hastily left the dining room, went to the dog, and mewed uncommonly loud, and in different tones of voice; which the dog, from time to time, answered with a short bark. They both then went to the door of the room where the cat had dined, and waited till it was opened. One of my children opened the door, and immediately the two friends entered the apartment. The mewing of the cat excited my wife's attention. She rose from her seat, and stepped softly up to the door, which stood ajar, to observe what was going on. The cat led the dog to the cupboard which contained the partridge, pushed off the plate which covered it, and, taking out my intended supper, laid it before her canine friend, who devoured it greedily. Probably the cat, by her mewing, had given the dog to understand what an excellent meal she had made, and how sorry she was that he had not participated in it; but, at the same time, had explained to him that something was left for him in the cupboard, and persuaded him to follow her thither. Since that time I have paid particular attention to these animals, and am perfectly convinced that they communicate to each other whatever seems interesting."

"Oh! indeed, Uncle Thomas, do you think that animals understand each other?"

"I have no doubt that they do to a limited extent, Harry, but I cannot go the whole length of Monsieur Wenzel, who records the story I have just told you.

"I will now tell you some stories about some of the other animals of the cat kind, such as the lion, tiger, &c.; and though these animals differ so much from the domestic cat, they all belong to the same family; the huge lion, which carries off with ease a buffalo from the herd, or makes the forest tremble with his hoarse roar is no more than an enormous cat.

"I dare say you have all heard the story of 'Androcles and the Lion,' which is recorded in that most delightful book, 'Sandford and Merton.' It is so captivating a tale, that I must repeat it to you as much for my own gratification as for yours. I will just observe, however, that it is a fiction, and not a real story, though I can tell you one or two very similar ones, which occurred in real life."

"There was a certain slave named Androcles, who was so ill treated by his master that his life became insupportable. Finding no remedy from what he suffered, he at length said to himself:—'It is better to die than to continue to live in such hardships and misery as I am obliged to suffer. I am determined, therefore, to run away from my master; if I am taken again, I know that I shall be punished with a cruel death, but it is better to die at once, than to live in misery. If I escape, I must betake myself to deserts and woods, inhabited only by wild beasts, but they cannot use me more cruelly than I have been by my fellow-creatures, therefore I will rather trust myself to them, than continue to be a miserable slave.

"Having formed this resolution, he took an opportunity of leaving his master's house, and hid himself in a thick forest, which was some miles distant from the city. But here the unhappy man found that he had only escaped from one kind of misery to experience another. He wandered about all day through a vast and trackless wood, where his flesh was continually torn by thorns and brambles. He grew hungry, but he could find no food in this dreary solitude. At length he was ready to die with fatigue, and lay down in despair in a large cavern.

"The unfortunate man had not been long quiet in the cavern, before he heard a dreadful noise, which seemed to be the roar of some wild beast, and terrified him very much. He started up with a design to escape, and had already reached the mouth of the cave, when he saw coming towards him a lion of prodigious size, which prevented any possibility of retreat. He now believed his destruction to be inevitable, but to his great astonishment the beast advanced towards him with a gentle pace, without any mark of enmity or rage, and uttered a kind of mournful voice, as if he demanded the assistance of the man.

"Androcles, who was naturally of a resolute disposition, acquired courage from this circumstance to examine his monstrous guest, who gave him sufficient leisure for this purpose. He saw, as the lion approached him, that he seemed to limp upon one of his legs, and that the foot was extremely swelled, as if it had been wounded. Acquiring still more fortitude from the gentle demeanour of the beast, he advanced towards him, and took hold of the wounded part as a surgeon would examine his patient. He then perceived that a thorn of uncommon size had penetrated the ball of the foot, and was the occasion of the swelling and the lameness which he had observed. Androcles found that the beast, far from resenting his familiarity, received it with the greatest gentleness, and seemed to invite him by his blandishments to proceed. He therefore extracted the thorn, and, pressing the swelling, discharged a considerable quantity of matter, which had been the cause of so much pain. As soon as the beast felt himself thus relieved, he began to testify his joy and gratitude by every expression in his power. He jumped about like a wanton spaniel, wagged his enormous tail, and licked the feet and hands of his physician. Nor was he contented with these demonstrations of kindness. From this moment Androcles became his guest; nor did the lion ever sally forth in quest of his prey, without bringing home the produce of his chase, and sharing it with his friend.



"In this savage state of hospitality did the man continue to live during several months. At length, wandering unguardedly through the woods, he met with a company of soldiers sent out to apprehend him, and was by them taken prisoner, and conducted back to his master. The laws of that country being very severe against slaves, he was tried and found guilty of having fled from his master, and as a punishment for his pretended crime, he was sentenced to be torn in pieces by a furious lion, kept many days without food, to inspire him with additional rage.

"When the destined moment arrived, the unhappy man was exposed, unarmed, in the middle of a spacious arena, inclosed on every side, round which many thousand people were assembled to view the mournful spectacle. Presently a dreadful yell was heard, which struck the spectators with horror, and a monstrous lion rushed out of a den, which was purposely set open, with erected mane and flaming eyes, and jaws that gaped like an open sepulchre. A mournful silence instantly prevailed. All eyes were turned upon the destined victim, whose destruction seemed inevitable. But the pity of the multitude was soon converted into astonishment, when they beheld the lion, instead of destroying its defenceless enemy, crouch submissively at his feet, fawn upon him as a faithful dog would do upon his master, and rejoice over him as a mother that unexpectedly recovers her offspring. The governor of the town, who was present, then called out with a loud voice, and ordered Androcles to explain to them this unintelligible mystery, and how a savage of the fiercest and most unpitying nature should thus in a moment have forgotten his innate disposition, and be converted into a harmless and inoffensive animal. Androcles then related to the assembly every circumstance of his adventures, and concluded by saying, that the very lion which now stood before them, had been his friend and entertainer in the woods. All present were astonished and delighted with the story, to find that even the fiercest beasts are capable of being softened by gratitude; and, being moved by humanity, they unanimously joined to entreat for the pardon of the unhappy man, from the governor of the place. This was immediately granted to him, and he was also presented with the lion, which had twice saved the life of Androcles."

"Oh, what a delightful story, Uncle Thomas! What a pity it is that it is not true."

"I can tell you one which is true, John which is hardly, if at all, inferior in interest:—

"Sir George Davis, who was English consul at Naples about the middle of the seventeenth century, happening on one ocassion to be in Florence, visited the Menagerie of the Grand Duke. At the farther end of one of the dens he saw a lion which lay in sullen majesty, and which the keepers informed him they had been unable to tame, although every effort had been used for upwards of three years. Sir George had no sooner reached the gate of the den, than the lion ran to it, and evinced every demonstration of joy and transport. The animal reared himself up, purred like a cat when pleased, and licked the hand of Sir George, which he had put through the bars. The keeper was astonished and frightened for the safety of his visitor, entreated him not to trust an apparent fit of frenzy, with which the animal seemed to be seized; for he was, without exception, the most fierce and sullen of his tribe which he had ever seen. This, however, had no effect on Sir George, who, notwithstanding every entreaty on the part of the keeper, insisted on entering the lion's den. The moment he got in, the delighted lion threw his paws upon his shoulders, licked his face, and ran about him, rubbing his head on Sir George, purring and fawning like a cat when expressing its affection for its master. This occurrence became the talk of Florence, and reached the ears of the Grand Duke, who sent for Sir George, and requested an interview at the menagerie, that he might witness so extraordinary a circumstance, when Sir George gave the following explanation; 'A captain of a ship from Barbary gave me this lion, when quite a whelp. I brought him up tame; but when I thought him too large to be suffered to run about the house, I built a den for him in my court-yard. From that time he was never permitted to be loose, except when brought to the house to be exhibited to my friends. When he was five years old, he did some mischief by pawing and playing with people in his frolicsome moods. Having griped a man one day a little too hard, I ordered him to be shot, for fear of myself incurring the guilt of what might happen. On this a friend, who happened to be then at dinner with me, begged him as a present. How he came here, I know not.' The Grand Duke of Tuscany, on hearing his story, said it was the very same person who had presented him with the lion."

"Oh! Uncle Thomas: I should have been terribly afraid to have ventured into the lion's den!"

"I dare say you would, John, and so should I. But some stories are recorded of the gentleness of the lion, as almost to justify such acts of what would otherwise appear fool-hardiness.

"Part of a ship's crew being sent ashore on the coast of India for the purpose of cutting wood, the curiosity of one of the men having led him to stray to a considerable distance from his companions, he was much alarmed by the appearance of a large lioness, who made towards him; but, on her coming up, his fear was allayed, by her lying down at his feet, and looking very earnestly, first in his face, and then at a tree some little distance off. After repeating these looks several times, she arose, and proceeded towards the tree, looking back, as if she wished the sailor to follow her. At length he ventured, and, coming to the tree, perceived a huge baboon, with two young cubs in her arms, which he immediately supposed to be those of the lioness', as she crouched down like a cat, and seemed to eye them very stedfastly. The man being afraid to ascend the tree, decided on cutting it down, and having his axe with him, he set actively to work, when the lioness seemed most attentive to what he was doing. When the tree fell, she pounced upon the baboon, and, after tearing her in pieces, she turned round, and licked the cubs for some time. She then returned to the sailor, and fawned round him, rubbing her head against him in great fondness, and in token of her gratitude for the service done her. After this, she carried the cubs away one by one, and the sailor rejoined his companions, much pleased with the adventure.



"Another author tells such a graphic story of a lion's entertaining a hunter, that I must let you hear it also, though I must say that I think he has rather overstrained it.

"A hunter on one occasion having gone in search of a lion, and having penetrated a considerable distance into a forest, happened to meet with two whelps of a lion that came to caress him. The hunter stopped with the little animals, and waiting for the coming of the sire or the dam, took out his breakfast, and gave them a part. The lioness arrived, unperceived by the huntsman, so that he had not time, or perhaps wanted the courage, to take his gun. After having for some time looked at the man who was thus feasting her young, the lioness burst away, and soon after returned, bearing with her a sheep, which she came and laid at the huntsman's feet. The hunter, thus become one of the family, took occasion to make a good meal,—skinned the sheep, made a fire, and roasted a part, giving the entrails to the young. The lion, in his turn, came also; and, as if respecting the rights of hospitality, showed no tokens whatever of ferocity. Their guest, the next day, having finished his provisions, returned home, and came to a resolution never more to kill any of these animals, the noble generosity of which he had so fully experienced. He stroked and caressed the whelps at taking leave of them, and the dam and sire accompanied him till he was safely out of the forest."

"Well, Uncle Thomas, I cannot believe that. I think the man would have been too glad to escape, to have staid so long with such unsafe companions."

"You are quite right, Harry, I cannot expect that you should give credit to a story which I myself disbelieve. Here is a story about the ferocity of the lion, which is, however, beyond all, doubt.

"In the year 1816 the horses which were dragging the Exeter mail coach were attacked in the most furious manner by a lioness, which had escaped from a travelling menagerie.

"At the moment when the coachman pulled up, to deliver his bags at one of the stages a few miles from the town of Salisbury, one of the leading horses was suddenly seized by a ferocious animal. This produced a great confusion and alarm. Two passengers, who were inside the mail, got out and ran into the house. The horse kicked and plunged violently; and it was with difficulty the driver could prevent the coach from being overturned. It was soon observed by the coachman and guard, by the light of the lamps, that the animal which had seized the horse was a huge lioness. A large mastiff dog came up and attacked her fiercely, on which she quitted the horse and turned upon him. The dog fled, but was pursued and killed by the lioness, within about forty yards of the place. It appears that the beast had escaped from a caravan, which was standing on the road side, and belonged to a menagerie, on its way to Salisbury fair. An alarm being given, the keepers pursued and hunted the lioness, carrying the dog in her teeth, into a hovel under a granary, which served for keeping agricultural implements. About half past eight, they had secured her effectually, by barricading the place, so as to prevent her escape. The horse, when first attacked, fought with great spirit; and if he had been at liberty, would probably have beaten down his antagonist with his fore feet but in plunging he entangled himself in the harness. The lioness, it appears, attacked him in front, and springing at his throat, had fastened the talons of her fore feet on each side of his gullet, close to the head, while the talons of her hind feet were forced into the chest. In this situation she hung, while the blood was seen streaming, as if a vein had been opened by a lancet. The furious animal missed the throat and jugular vein; but the horse was so dreadfully torn, that he was not at first expected to survive. The expressions of agony, in his tears and moans, were most piteous and affecting. Whether the lioness was afraid of her prey being taken from her, or from some other cause, she continued a considerable time after she had entered the hovel, roaring in a dreadful manner, so loud, indeed, that she was distinctly heard at the distance of half a mile. She was eventually secured and led back in triumph to her cell."

"It was fortunate that it did not attack the passengers, Uncle Thomas."

"Very much so, indeed; it might have turned out a very serious affair, Frank."



CHAPTER VI.

Uncle Thomas tells about the Tiger; its Ferocity and Power; and of the Curious Modes which are adopted for its Capture and Destruction.—Also about the Puma or American Lion, and introduces some Hunting Scenes in North and South America, with other Interesting and Entertaining Adventures.

"Long as the stories were, Boys, which I told you last night about the lion, I have not yet quite done with the animals of the cat kind; there are still one or two stories about the tiger and the puma or American lion, which I wish to tell you of, if you do not think we have already had enough of them."

"Oh, no, Uncle Thomas, pray do continue."

"Very well, I will first tell you about the tiger.

"The tiger, which inhabits the rich jungles of India, nearly equals the lion in strength, and perhaps excels him in activity and ferocity. A very affecting instance of his ferocity, by which a fine young man, the only son of Sir Hector Munro, lost his life, is thus related by one of the party:

"Yesterday morning, Captain George Downey, Lieutenant Pyefinch, poor Mr. Munro (of the Honourable East India Company's service), and myself (Captain Consar), went on shore, on Saugur Island, to shoot deer. We saw innumerable tracks of tigers and deer; but still we were induced to pursue our sport; and did so the whole day. About half past three, we sat down on the edge of the jungle, to eat some cold meat, sent to us from the ship, and had just commenced our meal, when Mr. Pyefinch and a black servant told us there was a fine deer within six yards of us. Captain Downey and I immediately jumped up, to take our guns; mine was nearest, and I had but just laid hold of it, when I heard a roar like thunder, and saw an immense royal tiger spring on the unfortunate Munro, who was sitting down; in a moment his head was in the beast's mouth, and he rushed into the jungle with him, with as much ease as I could lift a kitten, tearing him through the thickest bushes and trees, every thing yielding to his monstrous strength. The agonies of horror, regret, and, I must say, fear (for there were two tigers), rushed on me at once; the only effort I could make was to fire at him, though the poor youth was still in his mouth. I relied partly on Providence, partly on my own aim, and fired a musket. The tiger staggered, and seemed agitated, which I took notice of to my companions. Captain Downey then fired two shots, and I one more. We retired from the jungle, and, a few minutes after, Mr. Munro came up to us all over blood and fell. We took him on our backs to the boat, and got every medical assistance for him from the Valentine Indiaman, which lay at anchor near the Island; but in vain. He lived twenty-four hours in the utmost torture; his head and skull were all torn and broken to pieces, and he was also wounded, by the animal's claws, all over his neck and shoulders; but it was better to take him away, though irrecoverable, than leave him to be mangled and devoured. We have just read the funeral service over his body, and committed it to the deep. Mr. Munro was an amiable and promising youth. I must observe, there was a large fire blazing close to us, composed of ten or a dozen whole trees. I made it myself on purpose to keep the tigers off, as I had always heard it would. There were eight or ten of the natives about us; many shots had been fired at the place; there was much noise and laughing at the time; but this ferocious animal disregarded all. The human mind cannot form an idea of the scene; it turned my very soul within me. The beast was about four feet and a half high, and nine long. His head appeared as large as that of an ox; his eyes darting fire, and his roar, when he first seized his prey, will never be out of my recollection. We had scarcely pushed our boat from that cursed shore, when the tigress made her appearance, raging, almost mad, and remained on the sand, as long as the distance would allow me to see her."

"Oh, dreadful, Uncle Thomas! I declare it makes my hair stand on end!"

"It is a fearful tale, John, and shows you what a scourge such an animal must be to the inhabitants of the country in which it is found. It frequents the deserts of Asia, but in some places where civilization has commenced, it prowls about the villages and commits great havoc among the herds of the inhabitants, who therefore find it necessary to adopt various schemes for its destruction; some of these devices are very curious.

"A large cage of strong bamboos is constructed, and fastened firmly to the ground, in a place which the tigers frequent. In this a man takes up his station for the night. He is generally accompanied by a dog or a goat, which by its extreme agitation is sure to give notice of the tiger's approach. His weapons consist of two or three strong spears, and thus provided he wraps himself in his quilt, and very composedly goes to steep in the full confidence of safety. By and by the tiger makes his appearance, and after duly reconnoitring all round, begins to rear against the cage, seeking for some means of entering. The hunter, who watches his opportunity, thrusts one of his spears into the animal's body, and seldom fails to destroy it."

"That is a very good plan, Uncle Thomas, and does not seem to be attended with much danger, if the cage be strong enough."

"No, Boys, it is not very dangerous, but I don't think any of you would like to trust yourselves so exposed. Here, however, is another mode of destroying the tiger, which is practised in some parts of India.

"The track of a tiger being ascertained, which though not invariably the same, may yet be known sufficiently for the purpose, the peasants collect a quantity of the leaves of the prous, which are like those of the sycamore, and are common in most underwoods, as they form the largest portion of most jungles in India. These leaves are smeared with a species of bird-lime, made by bruising the berries of a tree by no means scarce. They are then strewed, with the gluten uppermost, near to the spot to which it is understood the tiger usually retires during noon-tide heat. If by chance the animal should tread on one of these smeared leaves his fate is certain. He commences by shaking his paw, with the view to remove the adhesive incumbrance, but finding no relief from that expedient, he rubs the nuisance against his jaw with the same intention, by which means his eyes, ears, &c. become covered with the same substance. This occasions such uneasiness as causes him to roll perhaps among many more smeared leaves, till at length he becomes completely enveloped, and he is deprived of sight, and in this situation may be compared to a man who has been tarred and feathered. The anxiety produced by this strange and novel predicament, soon discovers itself in dreadful howlings, which serve to call the watchful peasants, who in this disabled state find no difficulty in shooting the object of detestation."

"That is better still, Uncle Thomas; I think that is the most ingenious way of catching an animal that I ever heard of."

"I must now tell you something about the puma or American lion, which is also taken in a very ingenious manner by the natives of South America. It is generally hunted by means of dogs. When they unkennel a lion or a tiger, they pursue him till he stops to defend himself. The hunter, who is mounted on a good steed, follows close behind, and if the dogs seize upon the animal, the hunter jumps off his horse, and, while the lion is engaged in contending with the dogs, strikes him on the head, and thus dispatches him. If, however, the dogs are afraid to attack him, the hunter uses his lasso, dexterously fixes it round some part of the animal, and gallops away, dragging it after him. The dogs now rush in and tear him, when he is soon dispatched.

"When wounded the puma grows furious and irresistible. Here is a story which shows the fierceness of the animal:—Two hunters having gone in quest of game to the Catskill mountains, province of New York, each armed with a gun, and accompanied by a dog, they agreed to go in contrary directions round the base of the hill, which formed one of the points of that chain of mountains; and it was settled that, if either discharged his piece, the other should hasten to the spot whence the report proceeded as speedily as possible, to join in the pursuit of whatever game might fall to their lot. They had not been long asunder, when the one heard the other fire, and, agreeably to promise, hastened to join his companion. He looked for him in every direction; but to no purpose. At length, however, he came upon the dog of his friend, dead, and dreadfully lacerated. Convinced by this, that the animal his comrade had shot at was ferocious and formidable, he felt much alarm for his fate, and sought after him with great anxiety. He had not proceeded many yards from me spot where the dog lay prostrate, when his attention was arrested by the ferocious growl of some wild animal. On raising his eyes to the spot whence the sound proceeded, he discovered a large puma couching on the branch of a tree, and under him the body of his friend. The animal's eyes glared at him, and he appeared hesitating whether he should descend, and make an attack on the survivor also, or relinquish his prey, and decamp. The hunter, aware of the celerity of the puma's movements, knew that there was no time for reflection, levelled his piece, and mortally wounded the animal, when it and the body of the man fell together from the tree. His dog then attacked the wounded puma, but a single blow from its paw laid it prostrate. In this state of things, finding his comrade was dead, and knowing it was dangerous to approach the wounded animal, he went in search of assistance, and on returning to the spot he found his companion, the puma, and the two dogs, all lying dead.

"The celebrated naturalist Audubon gives an interesting account of a hunt which he had after the puma, in one of the back settlements of North America. In the course of his rambles he arrived at the cabin of a squatter on the banks of Cold-Water River, and after a hospitable reception, and an evening spent in relating their adventures in the chase, it was agreed in the morning to hunt the puma which had of late been making sad ravages among the squatter's pigs.

"The hunters accordingly made their appearance just as the sun was emerging from the horizon. They were five in number, and fully equipped for the chase, being mounted on horses which in some parts of Europe might appear sorry nags, but which, in strength, speed, and bottom, are better fitted for pursuing a puma or bear through woods and morasses than any in that country. A pack of large ugly curs were already engaged in making acquaintance with those of the squatter. He and myself mounted his two best horses, whilst his sons were bestriding others of inferior quality.

"Few words were uttered by the party until we had reached the edge of the swamp where it was agreed that all should disperse and seek for the fresh track of the puma, it being previously settled that the discoverer should blow his horn, and remain on the spot until the rest should join him. In less than an hour, the sound of the horn was clearly heard, and, sticking close the squatter, off we went through the thick woods, guided only by the moon and the repeated call of the distant huntsman. We soon reached the spot, and in a short time the rest of the party came up. The best dog was sent forward to attack the animal, and in a few minutes the whole pack were observed diligently tracking and bearing in their course for the interior of the swamp. The rifles were immediately put in trim, and the party followed the dogs at separate distances, within sight of each other, determined to shoot at no other game than the puma.

"The dogs soon began to mouth, and suddenly quickened their pace. My companions concluded that the beast was on the ground, and putting our horses to a gentle gallop, we followed the curs, guided by their voices. The noise of the dogs increased, when all of a sudden their mode of barking became altered, and the squatter, urging me to push on, told me the beast was treed, by which he meant that it had got upon some low branch of a large tree, to rest for a few moments, and that should we not succeed in shooting him while thus situated we might expect a long chase of it. As we approached the spot, we all by degrees united into a body, but on seeing the dogs at the foot of a large tree, separated again, and galloped off to surround it.

"Each hunter now moved with caution, holding his gun ready, and allowing the bridle to dangle on the neck of his horse, as it advanced slowly towards the dogs. A shot from one of the party was heard, on which the puma was seen to leap to the ground and bound off with such velocity as to show that he was very unwilling to stand our fire longer. The dogs set off in pursuit with the utmost eagerness and a deafening cry; the hunter who had fired came up, and said that his ball had hit the monster, and had probably broken one of his fore legs near the shoulder, the only place at which he could aim; a slight trail of blood was discovered on the ground, but the curs proceeded at such a rate, that we merely noticed this and put spurs to our horses, which galloped on towards the centre of the swamp. One bayou (a part of the swamp in which the water accumulates) was crossed, then another still larger and more muddy, but the dogs were brushing forward, and as the horses began to pant at a furious rate, we judged it expedient to leave them and advance on foot. These determined hunters knew that the animal, being wounded, would shortly ascend another tree, where in all probability he would remain for a considerable time, and that it was easy to follow the track of the dogs. We dismounted, took off the saddles and bridles, set the bells attached to the horses, necks at liberty to jingle, hoppled the animals (fastening the bridle to one of their legs so that they could not stray far), and left them to shift for themselves.

"After marching for a couple of hours, we again heard the dogs. Each of us pressed forward, elated at the thought of terminating the career of the puma; some of the dogs were heard whining, although the greater part barked vehemently. We felt assured that the animal was treed, and that he would rest for some time to recover from his fatigue. As we came up to the dogs we discovered the furious animal lying across a large branch close to the trunk of a cotton-wood tree. His broad breast lay towards us, his eyes were at one time bent on us, and again on the dogs, beneath, and around him; one of his fore-legs hung down loosely by his side, and he lay crouched with his ears lowered close to his head, as if he thought he might remain undiscovered. Three balls were fired at him at a given signal, on which he sprung a few feet from the branch, and tumbled headlong to the ground. Attacked on all sides by the enraged curs, the infuriated animal fought with desperate valour; but the squatter advancing in front of the party, and almost in the midst of the dogs, shot him immediately behind and beneath the left shoulder. He writhed for a moment in agony, and in another lay dead."

"It must be very exciting employment, hunting the puma, Uncle Thomas."

"And not a little dangerous too, Boys, for you hear how fiercely he maintains his ground. With all their fierceness, however, the fear of man is over even this relentless race of animals. Captain Head, who has written an amusing book called 'Rough Notes of Rapid Rides across the Pampas,' thus speaks on this subject:

"The fear which all wild animals in America have of man is very singularly exhibited in the Pampas. I often rode towards the ostriches and zamas, crouching under the opposite side of my horse's neck; but I always found that, although they would allow my loose horse to approach them, they, even when young, ran from me, though little of my figure was visible; and when I saw them all enjoying themselves in such full liberty, it was at first not pleasing to observe that one's appearance was every where a signal to them that they should fly from their enemy. Yet it is by this fear 'that man hath dominion over the beasts of the field,' and there is no animal in South America that does not acknowledge this instinctive feeling. As a singular proof of the above, and of the difference between the wild beasts of America and of the old world, I will venture to relate a circumstance which a man sincerely assured me had happened to him in South America.

"He was trying to shoot some wild ducks, and, in order to approach them unperceived, he put the corner of his poncho (which is a sort of long narrow blanket) over his head, and crawling along the ground upon his hand and knees, the poncho not only covered his body, but trailed along the ground behind him. As he was thus creeping by a large bush of reeds, he heard a loud, sudden noise, between a bark and a roar; he felt something heavy strike his feet, and, instantly jumping up, he saw to his astonishment, a large puma actually standing on his poncho; and, perhaps, the animal was equally astonished to find himself in the immediate presence of so athletic a man. The man told me he was unwilling to fire, as his gun was loaded with very small shot; and he therefore remained motionless, the puma standing on his poncho for many seconds; at last the creature turned his head, and walking very slowly away about ten yards, stopped, and turned again: the man still maintained his ground, upon which the puma tacitly acknowledged his supremacy, and walked off."

"I dare say the man was very glad to be so easily quit of such a formidable visitor, Uncle Thomas."



"No doubt of it, Frank. I have one other story to tell you about the puma, which fortunately exhibits it in a more favourable light than some of those which I have told you.

"During the government of Don Diego de Mendoza, in Paraguay, a dreadful famine raged at Buenos Ayres; yet Diego, afraid to give the Indians a habit of spilling Spanish blood, forbade the inhabitants, on pain of death, to go into the fields, in search of relief, placing soldiers at all the outlets to the country, with orders to fire upon those who should attempt to transgress his orders. A woman, however, called Maldonata, was artful enough to elude the vigilance of the guards, and to effect her escape. After wandering about the country for a long time, she sought shelter in a cavern; but she had scarcely entered it, when she became dreadfully alarmed, on observing a puma occupying the same den. She was, however, soon quieted by the animal approaching and caressing her. The poor brute was very ill, and scarcely able to crawl towards her. Maldonata soon discovered what was the cause of the animal's illness, and kindly ministered to it. It soon recovered, and was all gratitude and attention to its kind benefactress, never returning from searching after its daily subsistence without laying a portion of it at the feet of Maldonata.

"Some time after, Maldonata fell into the hands of the Spaniards; and, being brought back to Buenos Ayres, was conducted before Don Francis Ruez de Galen, who then commanded there. She was charged with having left the city contrary to orders. Galen was a man of a cruel and tyrannical disposition, and condemned the unfortunate woman to a death which none but the most cruel tyrant could have devised. He ordered some soldiers to take her into the country, and leave her tied to a tree, either to perish with hunger, or to be torn to pieces by wild beasts. Two days after, he sent the same soldiers to see what had been her fate, when, to their great surprise, they found her alive and unhurt, though surrounded by pumas and jaguars, while a female puma at her feet kept them at bay. As soon as the puma saw the soldiers, she retired to some distance and they unbound Maldonata, who related to them the history of this puma, whom she knew to be the same she had formerly relieved in the cavern. On the soldiers taking Maldonata away, the animal approached, and fawned upon her, as if unwilling to part. The soldiers reported what they had seen to their commander, who could not but pardon a woman who had been so singularly protected, without the danger of appearing more inhuman than pumas themselves.



CHAPTER VII.

Uncle Thomas tells about the Migrating Instinct of Animals.—Of the House Swallow of England; and the Esculent Swallow, whose Nest is eaten by the Chinese.—He tells also about the Passenger Pigeon of America; of the Myriads which are found in various parts of the United States; of the Land-Crab and its Migrations, and of those of the Salmon and the Common Herring.

"Uncle Thomas, I heard to-day of a swallow which for many years returned to the same window, and built its nest in the same corner. Now as I believe swallows are birds of passage, and leave this country to spend the winter in warmer climates, I wish you to explain to me how it is that they can return from such distances to the same spot."

"That is a question, Frank, which I cannot very well answer, but so many instances of the kind have been observed as to leave no doubt as to the fact. It has sometimes been known even to penetrate into the house, and attach its nest to articles of furniture.

"At Camerton Hall, near Bath, a pair of swallows built their nest on the upper part of the frame of an old picture over the chimney; and, coming into the room through a broken pane in one of the windows, they continued to use the same place for their nest for three successive years, and would probably have continued to do so, but the room having been put into repair, they could no longer obtain access to it."

"Is it want of food which makes birds migrate, Uncle Thomas?"

"Principally, I should say that it is so, Frank, but in shifting from one place to another they only fulfil an instinct impressed on them by their Creator for the preservation of their species. Thus, for instance, an old swallow might know by experience, that when its food fails here, it begins to become plentiful elsewhere, but the young bird which had never been more than a few miles from the place where it was hatched, can have no such experimental knowledge; yet, when the season arrives, we find the whole flock ready to set out. I dare say you have all seen them, Boys, gathering in flocks and resting on the house tops, as if taking breath before setting out on their long journey."

"Oh, yes, Uncle Thomas, I have often seen them doing so, but I have heard that they dive to the bottom of lakes and ponds, and remain there till winter is over."

"Many foolish stories are told of swallows being found in such situations, Harry, but they are now well known to be fables. There is no doubt that they migrate in the same way as many other birds. Last autumn I watched with great pleasure the movements of a flock, which was evidently preparing for their arduous flight.

"For several evenings they assembled in large numbers on a tree at a short distance from my house, and, after remaining seated for some time, one of them, who appeared to be commander-in-chief, kept flying about in all directions, and at length, with a sharp and loudly repeated call, he darted up into the air. In an instant the whole congregation were on the wing, following their leader in a sort of spiral track. In a little time they had risen so high that I lost sight of them, but after a short absence they again returned and took up their position on the tree which they had just left.

"This manoeuvre they continued for some time, till one day they set off in reality, and I saw no more of them for the winter."

"I read, somewhere, Uncle Thomas, that the Chinese eat swallows' nests. I cannot understand this, Sir; surely the mud and clay, of which swallows' nests are composed, would make but an indifferent repast."

"I dare say they would, Frank, if they were made of clay and mud, as the nests of our swallows are; but such is not the case. Various opinions are entertained as to the substance of which the nest of the esculent swallow is made. Sir George Staunton, who accompanied Lord Macartney in his embassy to China, gives a very interesting account both of the swallow and of its nest.

"In the Cass," says Sir George, "a small island near Sumatra, we found two caverns running horizontally into the side of the rock, and in these were a number of those birds' nests so much prized by the Chinese epicures. They seemed to be composed of fine filaments, cemented together by a transparent viscous matter, not unlike what is left by the foam of the sea upon stones alternately covered by the tide, or those gelatinous animal substances found floating on every coast. The nests adhere to each other and to the sides of the cavern, mostly in horizontal rows, without any break or interruption, and at different depths from fifty to five hundred feet. The birds that build these nests are small grey swallows, with bellies of a dirty white. They were flying about in considerable numbers, but were so small, and their flight was so quick, that they escaped the shot fired at them. The same sort of nests are said to be also found in deep caverns at the foot of the highest mountains in the middle of Java, at a distance from the sea; from which source it is thought that the birds derive no materials, either for their food, or the construction of their nests, as it does not appear probable they should fly in search of either over the intermediate mountains, which are very high, or against the boisterous winds prevailing thereabouts. They feed on insects, which they find hovering over stagnated pools between the mountains, and for the catching of which their wide opening beaks are particularly adapted. They prepare their nests from the best remnants of their food. Their greatest enemy is the kite, who often intercepts them in their passage to and from the caverns, which are generally surrounded with rocks of grey limestone or white marble. The colour and value of the nests depend on the quantity and quality of the insects caught, and perhaps also on the situation where they are built. Their value is chiefly ascertained by the uniform fineness and delicacy of their texture; those that are white and transparent being most esteemed, and fetching often in China their weight in silver.

"These nests are a considerable object of traffic among the Javanese, many of whom are employed in it from their infancy. The birds, after having spent nearly two months in preparing their nests, lay each two eggs, which are hatched in about fifteen days. When the young birds become fledged, it is thought the proper time to seize upon their nests, which is done regularly three times a year, and is effected by means of ladders of bamboo and reeds, by which the people descend into the caverns; but when these are very deep, rope-ladders are preferred. This operation is attended with much danger, and several perish in the attempt. The inhabitants of the mountains generally employed in this business begin always by sacrificing a buffalo, which custom is observed by the Javanese on the eve of every extraordinary enterprise. They also pronounce some prayers, anoint themselves with sweet-scented oil, and smoke the entrance of the cavern with gumbenjamin. Near some of the caverns a tutelar goddess is worshipped, whose priest burns incense, and lays his projecting hands on every person preparing to descend. A flambeau is carefully prepared at the same time, with a gum which exudes from a tree growing in the vicinity, and which is not easily extinguished by fixed air or subterraneous vapours."

"But how are the nests eaten, Uncle Thomas? Are they prepared in any way, or are they fit for use as they are taken down?"

"They are always prepared before they are eaten. The finest sort, which are of a clear colour, and not unlike isinglass, are dissolved in broth, to which they are said to give an exquisite flavour. After being soaked, they are sometimes introduced into the body of a fowl and stewed; but I am not quite versed in all the mysteries of a Chinese kitchen, so you must be satisfied with these two modes of preparation."

"Thank you, Uncle Thomas."

"I have only one more story to tell you about the swallow, Boys, and then I must turn to two or three other animals, whose peregrinations exhibit as strong instances of instinct as it does."

"A swallow's nest, built in the west corner of a window facing the north, was so much softened by the rain beating against it, that it was rendered unfit to support the superincumbent load of five pretty full grown swallows. During a storm the nest fell into the tower corner of the window, leaving the young brood exposed to all the fury of the blast. To save the little creatures from an untimely death, the owner of the house benevolently caused a covering to be thrown over them, till the severity of the storm was past. No sooner had it subsided, than the sages of the colony assembled, fluttering round the window, and hovering over the temporary covering of the fallen nest. As soon as this careful anxiety was observed, the covering was removed, and the utmost joy evinced by the group, on finding the young ones alive and unhurt. After feeding them, the members of this assembled community arranged themselves into working order. Each division taking its appropriate station, commenced instantly to work, and before night-fall they had jointly completed an arched canopy over the young brood in the corner where they lay, and securely covered them against a succeeding blast. Calculating the time occupied by them in performing this piece of architecture, it appeared evident that the young must have perished from cold and hunger, before any single pair could have executed half the job."

"How very kind, Uncle Thomas! Had they been reasoning creatures, they could not have behaved more properly."

"I dare say not, Frank. Such traits overstep the limits of instinct, and almost trespass on that of reason."

"You asked, Frank, if it was want of food which prompted the flight of migratory animals from one place to another. In some cases it is so, undoubtedly; as for instance, in that which I am now going to tell you about, the American passenger pigeon; it is from the work of the great naturalist, Wilson.

"The migrations of these pigeons appear to be undertaken rather in quest of food than merely to avoid the cold of the climate; since we find them lingering in the northern regions around Hudson's Bay so late as December, and since their appearance is so casual and irregular, sometimes not visiting certain districts for several years in any considerable numbers, while at other times they are innumerable. I have often witnessed these migrations in the Genesee country, often in Pennsylvania, and also in various parts of Virginia, with amazement; but all that I have seen of them are mere straggling parties, when compared with the congregated millions which I have since beheld in the western forests in the states of Ohio, Kentucky, and the Indiana territory. These fertile and extensive regions abound with the nutritious beech nut, which constitutes the chief food of the wild pigeon. In seasons when these nuts are abundant, corresponding multitudes of pigeons may be confidently expected. It sometimes happens, that having consumed the whole produce of the beech trees in an extensive district, they discover another at the distance of perhaps sixty or eighty miles, to which they regularly repair every morning, and return as regularly in the course of the day, or in the evening, to their place of general rendezvous, or, as it is generally called, the roosting place. These roosting places are always in the wood, and sometimes occupy a large extent of forest. When they have frequented one of these places for some time, the appearance it exhibits is surprising. The ground is covered to the depth of several inches with their droppings; all the tender grass and underwood destroyed; the surface strewed with large limbs of trees, broken down by the weight of the birds clustering one above another, and the trees themselves, for thousand of acres, killed as completely as if girdled with an axe. The marks of this desolation remain for many years on the spot, and numerous places could be pointed out, where for several years after scarcely a single vegetable made its appearance.

"When these roosts are first discovered, the inhabitants from considerable distances visit them in the night with guns, clubs, long poles, pots of sulphur, and various other engines of destruction. In a few hours they fill many sacks, and load their horses with them. By the Indians, a pigeon roost or breeding place is considered an important source of national profit and dependence for the season, and all their active ingenuity is exercised on the occasion. The breeding place differs from the former in its greater extent. In the western countries before mentioned, these are generally in beech woods, and often extend in nearly a straight line across the country for a great way. Not far from Shelbyville, in the state of Kentucky, about five years ago, there was one of these breeding places, which stretched through the woods in nearly a north and south direction, which was several miles in breadth, and was said to be upwards of forty miles in extent. In this tract almost every tree was furnished with nests wherever the branches could accommodate them. The pigeons made their first appearance there about the 10th of April, and left it altogether with their young before the 25th of May.

"As soon as the young were fully grown, and before they left the nests, numerous parties of the inhabitants, from all parts of the adjacent country, came with waggons, axes, beds, cooking utensils, many of them accompanied by the greater part of their families, and encamped for several days in this immense nursery. Several of them informed me that the noise in the woods was so great as to terrify their horses, and that it was difficult for one person to hear another speak without bawling in his ear. The ground was strewed with broken limbs of trees, eggs, and young squab pigeons which had been precipitated from above, and on which herds of hogs were fattening; hawks, buzzards, and eagles were sailing about in great numbers, and seizing the squabs from their nests at pleasure; while from twenty feet upwards to the tops of the trees, the view through the woods presented a perpetual tumult of crowding and fluttering multitudes of pigeons, their wings roaring like thunder, mingled with the frequent crash of falling timber; for now the axemen were at work, cutting down those trees which seemed to be most crowded with nests, and contrived to fell them in such a manner, that in their descent they might bring down several others, by which means the falling of one large tree sometimes produced two hundred squabs, little inferior in size to the old pigeons, and almost one mass of fat. On some single trees, upwards of one hundred nests were found, each containing one young only, a circumstance in the history of this bird not generally known to naturalists. It was dangerous to walk under these fluttering and flying millions, from the frequent fall of large branches, broken down by the weight of the multitudes above, and which in their descent often destroyed numbers of the birds themselves.

"I had left the public road to visit the remains of the breeding place near Shelbyville, and was traversing the woods with my gun on my way to Frankfort, when about one o'clock, the pigeons which I had observed flying the greater part of the morning northerly, began to return in such immense numbers as I never before had witnessed; coming to an opening by the side of a creek called the Benson, where I had a more uninterrupted view, I was astonished at their appearance. They were flying with great steadiness and rapidity, at a height beyond gun-shot, and several strata deep, and so close together, that could shot have reached them, one discharge could not have failed in bringing down several individuals. From right to left as far as the eye could reach, the breadth of this vast procession extended, seeming every where equally crowded. Curious to determine how long this appearance would continue, I took out my watch to note time, and sat down to observe them. It was then half-past one; I sat for more than an hour, but instead of a diminution of this prodigious procession, it seemed rather to increase both in numbers and rapidity, and anxious to reach Frankfort before night, I arose and went on. About four o'clock in the afternoon, I crossed the Kentucky river at the town of Frankfort, at which time the living torrent above my head seemed as numerous and as extensive as ever; and long after this, I observed them in large bodies that continued to pass for six or eight minutes, and these again were followed by other detached bodies, all moving in the same south-east direction, till after six in the evening. The great breadth of front which this mighty multitude preserved would seem to intimate a corresponding breadth of their breeding place, which, by several gentlemen who had lately passed through part of it, was stated to me at several miles. It was said to be in Green County, and that the young began to fly about the middle of March. On the 17th of April, forty-nine miles beyond Danville, and not far from Green River, I crossed this same breeding place, where the nests for more than three miles spotted every tree; the leaves not being yet out, I had a fair prospect of them, and was really astonished at their numbers. A few bodies of pigeons lingered yet in different parts of the woods, the roaring of whose wings was heard in various quarters around me.

"The vast quantity of food which these multitudes consume is a serious loss to the other animals, such as bears, pigs, squirrels, which are dependent on the fruits of the forest. I have taken from the crop of a single wild pigeon a good handful of the kernels of beech nuts intermixed with acorns and chesnuts. To form a rough estimate of the daily consumption of one of these immense flocks, let us first attempt to calculate the numbers above mentioned, as seen in passing between Frankfort and the Indian Territory. If we suppose this column to have been one mile in breadth (and I believe it to have been much more), and that it moved at the rate of one mile in a minute, four hours, the time it continued passing, would make its whole length two hundred and forty miles. Again, supposing that each square yard of this moving body comprehended three pigeons, the square yards in the whole space, multiplied by three, would give two thousand two hundred and thirty millions two hundred and seventy-two thousand pigeons!—an almost incredible multitude, and yet far below the actual amount. Computing each of these to consume half a pint of mast (nuts, and other seeds of trees) daily, the whole quantity, at this rate, would equal seventeen millions four hundred and twenty-four thousand bushels per day! Heaven has wisely and graciously given to these birds rapidity of flight, and a disposition to range over vast uncultivated tracts of the earth; otherwise they must have perished in the districts where they resided, or devoured the whole productions of agriculture, as well as those of the forests.

"The appearance of large detached flocks of these birds in the air, and the various evolutions they display, are strikingly picturesque and interesting. In descending the Ohio by myself, I often rested on my oars to contemplate their aerial manoeuvres. A column of eight or ten miles in length would appear from Kentucky high in air, steering across to Indiana. The leaders of this great body would sometimes gradually vary their course, till it formed a large bend of more than a mile in diameter, those behind tracing the exact route of their predecessors. This would continue sometimes long after both extremities were beyond the reach of sight; so that the whole with its glittering undulations marked a space on the face of the heavens resembling the windings of a vast majestic river. When this bend became very great, the birds, as if sensible of the unnecessarily circuitous route they were taking, suddenly changed their direction, so that what was in column before became an immense front, straightening all its indentures until it swept the heavens in one vast and infinitely extended line. Other lesser bodies also united with each other as they happened to approach, and with such ease and elegance of evolution, forming new figures and varying these as they united or separated, that I was never tired of contemplating them. Sometimes a hawk would sweep on a particular part of the column from a great height, when almost as quick as lightning that part shot downwards out of the common track, but soon rising again, continued advancing at the same height as before. This inflection was continued by those behind, who, on arriving at this point, dived down almost perpendicularly to a great depth, and, rising, followed the exact path of those that went before.

"Happening to go ashore one charming afternoon to purchase some milk at a house that stood near the river, and while talking with the people within doors, I was suddenly struck with astonishment at a loud rushing roar, succeeded by instant darkness, which for the first moment I took for a tornado about to overwhelm the house, and every thing around, in destruction. The people observing my surprise, coolly said, 'It is only the pigeons,' and on running out, I beheld a flock thirty or forty yards in width, sweeping along very low between the house and the mountain or height that formed the second bank of the river. These continued crossing for more than a quarter of an hour, and at length varied their bearing, so as to pass over the mountain, behind which they disappeared before the rear came up."

"That is amazing, Uncle Thomas; two thousand millions of live birds! I can scarcely form an adequate idea of such a mass of living creatures."

"There is something almost overwhelming in the idea, Frank; and yet in some parts of the world are to be found flocks of animals hardly less surprisingly numerous, when we consider how much less they are fitted for moving about, travelling at stated intervals from the mountains to the sea coast, and returning again to their old habitations, after having fulfilled the purposes for which this instinctive feeling was implanted in them."

"Which animals do you mean, Uncle Thomas?"

"I allude to the land-crab, which is a native of the Bahamas, and also of most of the other islands between the tropics. They live in clefts of the rocks, or holes which they dig for themselves among the mountains, and subsist on vegetables. About the months of April and May, they descend to the sea coast in a body of millions at a time, for the purpose of depositing their spawn. They march in a direct line towards their destination, and seldom turn out of their way, even should they encounter a wall or a house, but boldly attempt to scale it. If, however, they arrive at a river, they wind along the course of the stream, and thus reach the sea.

"In their procession they are as regular as an army under the command of an experienced general, and are usually divided into three battalions. The first body consists of the strongest males, which march forward to clear the route and face the greatest dangers. The main body is composed of females, which are formed into columns, sometimes extending fifty or sixty yards in breadth and three miles in depth. Three or four days after these follows the third division or rear guard, a straggling undisciplined tribe, consisting both of males and females, but neither so robust nor so vigorous as the former.

"Though easily drowned, a certain proportion of moisture seems necessary to the existence of these animals, and the advanced guard is often obliged to halt from the want of rain. The females, indeed, never leave the mountains till the rainy season has fairly set in. They march chiefly during the night, but if it happens to rain during the day, they always profit by it. When the sun is hot they halt till evening. They march very slowly, and are sometimes three months in gaining the shore. When alarmed they run in a confused and disorderly manner, holding up and clattering their nippers with a threatening attitude, and if suffered to take hold of the hand they bite severely. If in their journey any of them should be so maimed as to be unable to proceed, the others fall upon it and devour it.

"Arrived at the coast, they prepare to cast their spawn. They go to the edge of the water, and suffer the waves to wash twice or thrice over their bodies, and then withdraw to seek a lodging upon the land. After a short time the spawn becomes ready for being deposited, when they again seek the sea-side, and leave the spawn to be brought to maturity by the heat of the sun. Much of the spawn, which exactly resembles the roe of a herring, is devoured by the fishes; that which escapes soon arrives at maturity, and millions of little crabs are then to be seen slowly travelling towards the mountains.

"The old ones in the mean time seek to return to their old haunts, but so feeble are they that they seem scarcely able to crawl along. Some of them, indeed, are obliged to remain in the level parts of the country till they recover, making holes in the earth, which they block up with leaves and dirt. In these they cast their old shells, after which they soon recover, and become so fat as to be delicious food.

"At the season of their descent from the mountains, the natives of the islands which they inhabit, eagerly wait for them and destroy them in thousands. On their descent they are only taken for the roe or spawn, the flesh being then poor and lean: on their return from the sea-side they are in greatest repute, being then fat and high flavoured.

"The crab-catchers adopt various modes of securing them, but they are obliged to be very cautious, for when the animals perceive themselves attacked, they throw themselves on their back, and snap their claws about, pinching whatever they lay hold of very severely. The crab-catchers, however, soon learn to seize them by the hind legs, in such a manner as that the nippers cannot reach them."

"You said, Uncle Thomas, that the fishes watched the descent of the crabs, that they might feed on the spawn. Do you think that they are endowed with reasoning powers, as well as the higher classes of animals, Uncle Thomas?"

"No doubt of it, Frank. Old Isaac Walton, the most amusing author on angling who ever wrote, tells many curious stories about fishes, of their coming to be fed at the sound of a bell, and so forth.

"Many fishes exhibit the migratory instinct quite as distinctly as those animals which I have just told you about. The salmon leaves the sea, and seeks its way up the rivers, stemming their most rapid currents, and scaling highest waterfalls with a pertinacity which can only be the result of an instinct implanted in them by their Creator."

"And the herring, Uncle Thomas; does not it come every year from the Polar seas to spawn on our shores? I read a very interesting account of their progress southwards somewhere lately."

"I can tell you where, Frank; I will show it you, and when you have read it aloud, I will point out one or two mistakes, which it is as well to clear your mind of. It is in old Pennant's work; here it is; will you read it to us, John?"

"With pleasure, Uncle Thomas.

"This mighty army begins to put itself in motion in the spring. They begin to appear off the Shetland Islands in April and May. This is the first check this army meets in its march southward. There it is divided into two parts; one wing of those destined to visit the Scottish coast takes to the east, the other to the western shores of Great Britain, and fill every bay and creek with their numbers; others proceed towards Yarmouth, the great and ancient mart of herrings; they then pass through the British channel, and after that in a manner disappear. Those which take to the west, after offering themselves to the Hebrides, where the great stationary fishery is, proceed towards the north of Ireland, where they meet with a second interruption and are obliged to make a second division; the one takes to the western side and is scarcely perceived, being soon lost in the immensity of the Atlantic, but the other, which passes into the Irish sea, rejoins, and feeds the inhabitants of most of the coasts that border on it. The brigades, as we call them, which are separated from the greater columns, are often capricious in their motions, and do not show an invariable attachment to their haunts."

"Thank you, John. Now all this sounds very fine, and seems very systematic. It has but one objection—it is quite untrue. It is in the first place more than doubtful if the herring frequents the Polar seas at all; and in the second place, the most distinguished naturalists are of opinion that it never leaves the neighbourhood of our own shores, but merely retires to the deep water after it has spawned, and there remains till the return of another season calls it again to the shores to undergo a similar operation. So you see, Frank, it does not follow that an interesting account of an animal's habits is necessarily a true one."



CHAPTER VIII.

Uncle Thomas tells about the Baboons, and their Plundering Excursions to the Gardens at the Cape of Good Hope, also about Le Vaillant's Baboon, Kees, and his Peculiarities; the American Monkeys; and relates an amusing Story about a young Monkey deprived of its Mother, putting itself under the Fostering Care of a Wig-Block.

"Oh, Uncle Thomas, I saw such a strange looking creature to-day. It was so ugly. It seemed to be a very large monkey, it was as big as a boy."

"I heard of it, Boys, though I did not see it. It was a baboon, and one of the largest of the species.—It was what is called the dog-faced baboon."

"Where do such animals come from, Uncle Thomas."

"From Africa, John, and I believe they are not to be found elsewhere. They are very fierce and mischievous creatures, and are said sometimes even to attack man, but this I believe to be an exaggeration. Immense troops of them inhabit the mountains in the neighbourhood of the Cape of Good Hope, whence they descend in bands to plunder the gardens and orchards. In these excursions they move on a concerted plan, placing sentinels on commanding spots to give notice of the approach of an enemy. On the appearance of danger, the sentinel utters a loud yell, upon which the whole troop retreats with the utmost precipitation."

"Do they carry the spoil with them when they are thus disturbed, Uncle Thomas?"

"When disturbed they are said to break in pieces the fruit which they have gathered, and cram it into their cheek pouches—receptacles with which nature has furnished them for keeping articles of food till they are wanted.

"Le Vaillant, a traveller in Africa, had a dog-faced baboon which accompanied him on his journey, and he found its instinct of great service to him in various ways. As a sentinel he was better than any of the dogs. So quick was his sense of danger, that he often gave notice of the approach of beasts of prey, when every thing else seemed sunk in security. He was also very useful in guarding the people of the expedition from danger, from using unwholesome or poisonous fruits. The animal's name was Kees. Here is the very interesting account which his master gives of him.

"Whenever we found fruits or roots, with which my Hottentots were unacquainted, we did not touch them till Kees had tasted them. If he threw them away, we concluded that they were either of a disagreeable flavour, or of a pernicious quality, and left them untasted. The ape possesses a peculiar property, wherein he differs greatly from other animals, and resembles man,—namely, that he is by nature equally gluttonous and inquisitive. Without necessity, and without appetite, he tastes every thing that falls in his way, or that is given to him. But Kees had a still more valuable quality,—he was an excellent sentinel; for, whether by day or night, he immediately sprang up on the slightest appearance of danger. By his cry, and the symptoms of fear which he exhibited, we were always apprized of the approach of an enemy, even though the dogs perceived nothing of it. The latter at length learned to rely upon him with such confidence, that they slept on in perfect tranquillity. I often took Kees with me when I went a hunting; and when he saw me preparing for sport, he exhibited the most lively demonstrations of joy. On the way he would climb into the trees, to look for gum, of which he was very fond. Sometimes he discovered to me honey, deposited in the clefts of rocks, or hollow trees. But if he happened to have met with neither honey nor gum, and his appetite had become sharp by his running about, I always witnessed a very ludicrous scene. In those cases, he looked for roots, which he ate with great greediness, especially a particular kind, which, to his cost, I also found to be very well tasted and refreshing, and therefore insisted upon sharing with him. But Kees was no fool. As soon as he found such a root, and I was not near enough to seize upon my share of it, he devoured it in the greatest haste, keeping his eyes all the while riveted on me. He accurately measured the distance I had to pass before I could get to him; and I was sure of coming too late. Sometimes, however, when he had made a mistake in his calculation, and I came upon him sooner than he expected, he endeavoured to hide the root, in which case I compelled him, by a box on the ear, to give me up my share. But this treatment caused no malice between us; we remained as good friends as ever. In order to draw these roots out of the ground, he employed a very ingenious method, which afforded me much amusement. He laid hold of the herbage with his teeth, stemmed his fore feet against the ground, and drew back his head, which gradually pulled out the root. But if this expedient, for which he employed his whole strength, did not succeed, he laid hold of the leaves as before, as close to the ground as possible, and then threw himself heels over head, which gave such a concussion to the root, that it never failed to come out.

"When Kees happened to tire on the road, he mounted upon the back of one of my dogs, who was so obliging as to carry him whole hours. One of them, which was larger and stronger than the rest, hit upon a very ingenious artifice, to avoid being pressed into this piece of service. As soon as Kees leaped upon his back he stood still, and let the train pass, without moving from the spot. Kees still persisted in his intention, till we were almost out of his sight, when he found himself at length compelled to dismount, upon which both the baboon and dog exerted all their speed to overtake us. The latter, however, gave him the start, and kept a good look-out after him, that he might not serve him in the same manner again. In fact, Kees enjoyed a certain authority with all my dogs, for which he perhaps was indebted to the superiority of his instinct. He could not endure a competitor; if any of the dogs came too near him when he was eating, he gave them a box on the ear, which compelled him immediately to retire to a respectful distance.

"Serpents excepted, there were no animals of whom Kees stood in such great dread as of his own species,—perhaps owing to a consciousness, that he had lost a portion of his natural capacities. Sometimes he heard the cry of the other apes among the mountains, and, terrified as he was, he yet answered them. But if they approached nearer, and he saw any of them, he fled, with a hideous cry, crept between our legs, and trembled over his whole body. It was very difficult to compose him, and it required some time before he recovered from his fright.

"Like all other domestic animals, Kees was addicted to stealing. He understood admirably well how to loose the strings of a basket, in order to take victuals out of it, especially milk, of which he was very fond. My people chastised him for these thefts; but that did not make him amend his conduct. I myself sometimes whipped him; but then he ran away, and did not return again to the tent, until it grew dark. Once as I was about to dine, and had put the beans which I had boiled for myself upon a plate, I heard the voice of a bird, with which I was not acquainted. I left my dinner standing, seized my gun, and run out of my tent. After the space of about a quarter of an hour, I returned, with the bird in my hand; but to my astonishment, found not a single bean upon the plate. Kees had stolen them all, and taken himself out of the way. When he had committed any trespass of this kind, he used always, about the time when I drank tea, to return quietly, and seat himself in his usual place, with every appearance of innocence, as if nothing had happened; but this evening he did not let himself be seen; and on the following day, also, he was not seen by any of us; and in consequence, I began to grow seriously uneasy about him, and apprehensive that he might be lost for ever, but on the third day, one of my people, who had been to fetch water, informed me that he had seen Kees in the neighbourhood; but that as soon as the animal espied him, he had concealed himself again. I immediately went out and beat the whole neighbourhood with my dogs. All at once, I heard a cry, like that which Kees used to make when I returned from my shooting, and had not taken him with me. I looked about and at length espied him, endeavouring to hide himself behind the large branches of a tree. I now called to him in a friendly tone of voice, and made motions to him to come down to me. But he would not trust me, and I was obliged to climb up the tree to fetch him. He did not attempt to fly, and we returned together to my quarters; here he expected to receive his punishment; but I did nothing, as it would have been of no use.

"When exhausted with the heat of the sun, and the fatigues of the day, with my throat and mouth covered with dust and perspiration, I was ready to sink gasping to the ground, in tracts destitute of shade, and longed even for the dirtiest ditch-water; but after seeking long in vain, lost all hopes of finding any in the parched soil. In such distressing moments, my faithful Kees never moved from my side. We sometimes got out of our carriage, and then his sure instinct led him to a plant. Frequently the stalk was fallen off, and then all his endeavours to pull it out were in vain. In such cases, he began to scratch in the earth with his paws; but as that would also have proved ineffectual, I came to his assistance with my dagger, or my knife, and we honestly divided the refreshing root with each other.

"An officer, wishing one day to put the fidelity of my baboon, Kees, to the test, pretended to strike me. At this Kees flew in a violent rage, and, from that time, he could never endure the sight of the officer. If he only saw him at a distance, he began to cry and make all kinds of grimaces, which evidently showed that he wished to revenge the insult that had been done to me; he ground his teeth, and endeavoured, with all his might, to fly at his face, but that was out of his power, as he was chained down. The offender several times endeavoured, in vain, to conciliate him, by offering him dainties, but he remained long implacable.