ANIMAL KINGDOM: (continued 4)

A tame Beaver in the Zoological Gardens of London.—"This animal arrived in England, in the winter of 1825, very young, being small and woolly, and without the covering of long hair which marks the adult beaver. It was the sole survivor of five or six, which were shipped at the same time, and was in a very pitiable condition. Good treatment soon made it familiar. When called by its name, 'Binny,' it generally answered with a little cry, and came to its owner. The hearth-rug was its favorite haunt, upon which it would lie stretched out, sometimes on its back, and sometimes flat on its belly, but always near its master. The building instinct showed itself immediately after it was let out of its cage, and materials were placed in its way,—and this before it had been a week in its new quarters. Its strength, even before it was half grown, was great. It would drag along a large sweeping-brush, or a warming-pan, grasping the handle with its teeth, so that the load came over its shoulder; it then advanced in an oblique direction, till it arrived at the point where it wished to place it. The long and large materials were always taken first; two of the longest were generally laid crosswise, with one of the ends of each touching the wall, and the other ends projecting out into the room. The area formed by the crossed brushes and the wall, he would fill up with hand-brushes, rush-baskets, books, boots, sticks, cloths, dried turf, or any thing portable. As the work grew high, he supported himself on his tail, which propped him up admirably; and he would often, after laying on one of his building materials, sit up over against it, apparently to consider his work, or, as the country people say, 'judge it.' This pause was sometimes followed by changing the position of the material 'judged,' and sometimes it was left in its place.

"After he had piled up his materials in one part of the room,—for he generally chose the same place,—he proceeded to wall up the space between the feet of a chest of drawers, which stood at a little distance from it, high enough on its legs to make the bottom a roof for him, using for this purpose dried turf and sticks, which he laid very even, and filling up the interstices with bits of coal, hay, cloth, or any thing he could pick up. This last place he seemed to appropriate for his dwelling; the former work seemed to be intended for a dam. When he had walled up the space between the feet of the chest of drawers, he proceeded to carry in sticks, clothes, hay, cotton, and to make a nest; and, when he had done, he would sit up under the drawers, and comb himself with the nails of his hind-feet. In this operation, that which appeared at first to be a malformation was shown to be a beautiful adaptation to the necessities of the animal. The huge webbed hind-feet often turn in, so as to give the appearance of deformities; but, if the toes were straight, instead of being incurved, the animal could not use them for the purpose of keeping its fur in order, and cleansing it from dirt and moisture. Binny generally carried small and light articles between his right fore-leg and his chin, walking on the other three legs; and large masses, which he could not grasp readily with his teeth, he pushed forwards, leaning against them with his right fore-paw and his chin. He never carried any thing on his tail, which he liked to dip in water, but he was not fond of plunging in his whole body. If his tail was kept moist, he never cared to drink; but if it was kept dry, it became hot, and the animal appeared distressed, and would drink a great deal. It is not impossible that the tail may have the power of absorbing water, like the skin of frogs; though it must be owned that the scaly integument which invests that member has not much of the character which generally belongs to absorbing surfaces. Bread, and bread and milk, and sugar, formed the principal part of Binny's food; but he was very fond of succulent fruits and roots. He was a most entertaining creature; and some highly comic scenes occurred between the worthy, but slow, beaver, and a light and airy macauco, that was kept in the same apartment."

THE PORCUPINE.

Of this animal there are several species. The common porcupine of Europe is about two feet long, and covered with long spines or quills. In defending itself, it lies on one side, and rolls over upon its enemy. The quills of the American porcupine are used by the Indians in ornamenting their dress.

Curious Playmates.—We are told that Sir Ashton Lever had a tame porcupine, a domesticated hunting leopard, and a Newfoundland dog, which he used frequently to turn out together, to play in a green behind his house. No sooner were the dog and leopard let loose, than they began to chase the porcupine, who uniformly, at the outset, tried to escape by flight, but when he found there was no chance of doing so, he would thrust his head into some corner, and make a snorting noise, and erect his spines. His pursuers, if too ardent, pricked their noses, which made them angry; and in the quarrel which usually ensued, the porcupine effected his escape.

Le Vaillant says that a wound from a porcupine's quill is difficult to cure, from some poisonous quality it possesses; he mentions that a Hottentot, who was pricked in the leg by one of these, was ill for upwards of six months afterwards; and that a gentleman at the Cape kept his bed for about four months, and nearly lost his limb, in consequence of a wound inflicted by one of these animals.

THE HARE.

Of this slender, graceful creature, there are several species. The animal which passes by the name of rabbit, in America, and is common in our woods, is a hare. The pursuit of this animal is a favorite sport in England, and some other countries of Europe.

Miscellaneous Anecdotes.—In the "Annals of Sporting," for 1822, we find the following interesting account of a hare: "Two years ago, a doe hare produced two young ones in a field adjoining my cottage; and the three were occasionally seen, during the summer, near the same spot; but the leverets were, I have reason to believe, killed at the latter end of September of the same year. The old doe hare was also coursed, and, making directly for my cottage, entered the garden, and there blinked the dogs. I repeatedly afterwards saw her sitting, sometimes in the garden, which is one hundred and ten yards by forty-three, but more frequently in the garden-hedge. She was repeatedly seen by greyhounds when she sat at some distance, but uniformly made for the garden, and never failed to find security. About the end of the following January, puss was no longer to be seen around the garden, as she had probably retired to some distance with a male companion. One day, in February, I heard the hounds, and shortly afterwards observed a hare making towards the garden, which it entered at a place well known, and left not the least doubt on my mind, that it was my old acquaintance, which, in my family, was distinguished by the name of Kitty. The harriers shortly afterwards came in sight, followed Kitty, and drove her from the garden.

"I became alarmed for the safety of my poor hare, and heartily wished the dogs might come to an irrecoverable fault. The hare burst away with the fleetness of the wind, and was followed, breast high, by her fierce and eager pursuers. In about twenty minutes I observed Kitty return towards the garden, apparently much exhausted, and very dirty. She took shelter beneath a small heap of sticks, which lay at no great distance from the kitchen door. No time was to be lost, as, by the cry of the hounds, I was persuaded they were nearly in sight. I took a fishing-net, and, with the assistance of the servant, covered poor Kitty, caught her, and conveyed the little, panting, trembling creature into the house. The harriers were soon at the spot, but no hare was to be found. I am not aware that I ever felt greater pleasure than in thus saving poor Kitty from her merciless pursuers. Towards evening I gave her her liberty; I turned her out in the garden, and saw her not again for some time.

"In the course of the following summer, however, I saw a hare several times which I took to be my old friend; and, in the latter end of October, Kitty was again observed in the garden. Henceforward, she was occasionally seen as on the preceding winter. One morning, in January, when I was absent, a gun was fired near my cottage. Kitty was heard to scream, but, nevertheless, entered the garden vigorously. The matter was related to me on my return home; and I was willing to hope that Kitty would survive. However, I had some doubt on the subject; and, the next morning, as soon as light permitted, I explored the garden, and found that my poor, unfortunate favorite had expired. She was stretched beneath a large gooseberry tree; and I could not help regretting very much her death."

Borlase informs us that he had a hare so completely tamed as to feed from the hand. It always lay under a chair in the ordinary sitting-room, and was as much domesticated as a cat. It was permitted to take exercise and food in the garden, but always returned to the house to repose. Its usual companions were a greyhound and a spaniel, with whom it spent its evenings. The whole three seemed much attached, and frequently sported together, and at night they were to be seen stretched together on the hearth. What is remarkable, both the greyhound and spaniel were often employed in sporting, and used secretly to go in pursuit of hares by themselves; yet they never offered the least violence to their timid friend at home.

Dr. Townson, the traveller, when at Gottingen, brought a young hare into such a state of domestication, that it would run and jump about his sofa and bed. It leaped on his knee, patted him with its fore feet; and frequently, while he was reading, it would knock the book out of his hands, as if to claim, like a fondled child, the preference of his attention.

One Sunday evening, five choristers were walking on the banks of the River Mersey, in England. Being somewhat tired, they sat down, and began to sing an anthem. The field where they sat had a wood at its termination. While they were singing, a hare issued from this wood, came with rapidity towards the place where they were sitting, and made a dead stand in the open field. She seemed to enjoy the harmony of the music, and turned her head frequently, as if listening. When they stopped, she turned slowly towards the wood. When she had nearly reached the end of the field, they again commenced an anthem, at which the hare turned round, and ran swiftly back, to within the same distance as before, where she listened with apparent rapture till they had finished. She then bent her way towards the forest with a slow pace, and disappeared.

A hare, being hard run by a pack of harriers in the west of England, and being nearly exhausted, happened to come upon another hare in her form. She instantly drew out the latter, and slipped in herself; the pack followed the newly-started hare, and the huntsmen, coming up, found the animal they had been chasing, lying down in the form, panting very hard, and covered with mud.

A gentleman, actuated by curiosity, put one male and two female hares in a large garden, walled entirely round, where they had plenty to eat. Judge his surprise, when he opened the gate of the garden in a year from the time that he had shut in the animals, to find that his family had increased to the number of forty-seven!

A hare was once seen to start from its form at the sound of the hunting horn, run towards a pool of water at a considerable distance, plunge in, and run to some rushes in the middle, where it lay down, and concealed itself. By this ingenious trick, the animal balked its pursuers, and effected its escape.

ORDER VII.

EDENTATA,

ANIMALS WITHOUT FRONT TEETH.

The animals in this order are not numerous, but they are marked with very peculiar characteristics. The chief species are the sloths, armadilloes, ant-eaters, and pangolins, of South America, and the platypus of Australia. Most of these are too little known to have furnished us with characteristic anecdotes.

THE SLOTH.

This singular animal is destined by nature to live upon the trees. He is rare and solitary; and, as he is good for food, he is much sought after by the Indians and negroes. He is ill at ease on the ground, having no soles to his feet, which are so formed as to enable him to cling to the branches of trees, from which he suspends himself.

Mr. Waterton kept one of these animals in his room for several months. "I often took him out of the house," says he, "and placed him on the ground, in order to get a good opportunity of observing his motions. If the ground was rough, he would pull himself forward, by means of his fore legs, at a pretty good pace; but he invariably shaped his course towards the nearest tree. But if I put him upon a smooth and well-trodden part of the road, he appeared to be in trouble and distress: his favorite abode was on the back of a chair; and after getting all his legs in a line upon the topmost part of it, he would hang there for hours together, and often, with a low and inward cry, would seem to invite me to take notice of him."

The same author thus describes an adventure with a sloth: "One day, as we were crossing the Essequibo, I saw a large two-toed sloth on the ground upon the bank. How he got there was a mystery. The Indian who was with me said that he never surprised a sloth in such a situation before. He could hardly have come there to drink; for, both above and below, the branches of the trees touched the water, and afforded him a safe and easy access to it. Be this as it may, he could not make his way through the sand time enough to escape before we landed. As soon as we got up to him, he threw himself upon his back, and defended himself in gallant style with his fore legs. 'Come, poor fellow,' said I to him, 'if thou hast had a hobble to-day, thou shalt not suffer for it; I'll take no advantage of thee in misfortune. The forest is large enough for thee and me to rove in; go thy ways up above, and enjoy thyself in these endless wilds. It is more than probable thou wilt never again have an interview with man. So, fare thee well!'

"Saying this, I took up a long stick which was lying there, held it for him to hook on, and then conveyed him to a high and stately tree. He ascended with wonderful rapidity, and in about a minute he was at the top. He now went off in a side direction, and caught hold of the branch of a neighboring tree. He then proceeded towards the heart of the forest. I stood looking on, lost in amazement at his singular mode of progression, and followed him with my eyes till I lost sight of him."

THE PLATYPUS.

Among the strange and interesting productions of Australia, no one is more wonderful than the ornithorynchus, platypus, or water-mole. It is aquatic in its habits, frequenting quiet streams, where it excavates burrows to a great depth. It is about eighteen inches long, and is covered with fur. It is web-footed, at the same time that its feet are well fitted for burrowing in the earth. Its head terminates in a broad bill, like that of a duck.

Mr. G. Bennett procured several specimens of this curious creature, but did not succeed in taking them to England. One of them was caught at the mouth of its burrow, and taken by Mr. B. to Lansdowne Park. "Here," says he, "I availed myself of the vicinity of some ponds, to give my platypus a little recreation. On opening the box where I kept it, it was lying in a corner, contracted into a very small compass, and fast asleep. I tied a very long cord to its hind leg, and roused it; in return for which, I received numerous growls. When placed on the bank, it soon found its way into the water, and travelled up the stream, apparently delighting in those places which most abounded in aquatic weeds. Although it would dive in deep water, yet it always preferred keeping close to the bank, occasionally thrusting its beak into the mud, and at the roots of the various weeds on the margin of the pond, as if in search of insects.

"After it had wandered some time, it crawled up the bank, and enjoyed the luxury of scratching itself, and rolling about. In the process of cleaning itself, the hind claws were alone brought into use for the operation—first the claws of one hind leg, then the claws of the other. The animal remained for more than an hour cleaning itself, after which, it had a more sleek and glossy appearance than before. It never became familiar, and always manifested the greatest reluctance to be placed in the box. One night it escaped, and I was never able to find it again."

ORDER VIII.

PACHYDERMATA,

THICK-SKINNED ANIMALS.

THE ELEPHANT.

This is the largest quadruped at present extant on the earth. It is nine feet high, and in some cases has risen to the height of fifteen feet. Its weight varies from four to nine thousand pounds. Nor is it more distinguished for its size than its sagacity. When tamed, it becomes the most gentle, obedient, and affectionate of domestic animals, capable of being trained to any service which may be required of it.

There are two species of elephant—the Asiatic and the African. The former is the largest and best known. In the mighty forests which they inhabit, they hold undisputed sway; their immense size, strength, and swiftness, enabling them to dislodge all intruders from their abodes. Even the lion and tiger fear their united attacks, and avoid being in their vicinity. They are excellent swimmers, and are capable of crossing the largest rivers. This power seems essential, for the quantity of food they consume renders it necessary for them to remove often from one region to another.

Miscellaneous Anecdotes.—Bishop Heber, in his approach to Dacca, saw a number of elephants bathing, which he thus describes: "At a distance of about half a mile from those desolate palaces a sound struck my ear, as if from the water itself on which we were riding—the most solemn and singular I can conceive. It was long, loud, deep, and tremulous—something like the blowing of a whale, or, perhaps, more like those roaring buoys which are placed at the mouths of some English harbors, in which the winds make a noise to warn ships off them. 'O,' said Abdallah, 'there are elephants bathing; Dacca much place for elephant.' I looked immediately, and saw about twenty of these fine animals, with their heads and trunks just appearing above the water. Their bellowing it was which I had heard, and which the water conveyed to us with a finer effect than if we had been on shore."

The manner of hunting and taming the wild elephant, in Asia, is curious. In the middle of a forest, where these animals are known to abound, a large piece of ground is marked out, and surrounded with strong stakes driven into the earth, interwoven with branches of trees. One end of this enclosure is narrow, and it gradually widens till it takes in a great extent of country. Several thousand men are employed to surround the herd of elephants, and to prevent their escape. They kindle large fires at certain distances; and, by hallooing, beating drums, and playing discordant instruments, so bewilder the poor animals, that they allow themselves to be insensibly driven, by some thousands more Indians, into the narrow part of the enclosure, into which they are decoyed by tame female elephants, trained to this service. At the extreme end of the large area is a small enclosure, very strongly fenced in, and guarded on all sides, into which the elephants pass by a long, narrow defile. As soon as one enters this strait, a strong bar is thrown across the passage from behind.

He now finds himself separated from his neighbors, and goaded on all sides by huntsmen, who are placed along this passage, till he reaches the smaller area, where two tame female elephants are stationed, who immediately commence disciplining him with their trunks, till he is reduced to obedience, and suffers himself to be conducted to a tree, to which he is bound by the leg, with stout thongs of untanned elk or buckskin. The tame elephants are again conducted to the enclosure, where the same operation is performed on the others, till all are subdued. They are kept bound to trees for several days, and a certain number of attendants left with each animal to supply him with food, by little and little, till he is brought by degrees to be sensible of kindness and caresses, and thus allows himself to be conducted to the stable.

So docile and susceptible of domestication is the elephant, that, in a general way, fourteen days are sufficient to reduce the animals to perfect obedience. During this time, they are fed daily with cocoa-nut leaves, of which they are excessively fond, and are conducted to the water by the tame females. In a short time, they become accustomed to the voice of their keeper, and at last quietly resign their freedom, and great energies, to the dominion of man.

The mode employed by the Africans, to take elephants alive, is by pits. Pliny, whose accounts were in general correct, mentions that, when one of the herd happened to fall into this snare, his companions would throw branches of trees and masses of earth into the pit, with the intention of raising the bottom, so that the animal might effect his escape. Although this appears to be a species of reasoning hardly to be expected from an animal, yet it has in a great measure been confirmed by Mr. Pringle, who says,—"In the year 1821, during one of my excursions in the interior of the Cape Colony, I happened to spend a few days at the Moravian missionary settlement of Enon, or White River. This place is situated in a wild but beautiful valley, near the foot of the Zuurberg Mountains, in the district of Uiterhage, and is surrounded on every side by extensive forests of evergreens, in which numerous herds of elephants still find food and shelter.

"From having been frequently hunted by the Boors and Hottentots, these animals are become so shy as scarcely ever to be seen during the day, except amongst the most remote and inaccessible ravines and jungles; but in the night time they frequently issue forth in large troops, and range, in search of food, through the inhabited farms in the White River valley; and on such occasions they sometimes revenge the wrongs of their race upon the settlers who have taken possession of their ancient haunts, by pulling up fruit-trees, treading down gardens and cornfields, breaking their ploughs, wagons, and so forth. I do not mean, however, to affirm, that the elephants really do all this mischief from feelings of revenge, or with the direct intention of annoying their human persecutors. They pull up the trees, probably, because they want to browse on their soft roots; and they demolish the agricultural implements merely because they happen to be in their way.

"But what I am now about to state assuredly indicates no ordinary intelligence. A few days before my arrival at Enon, a troop of elephants came down, one dark and rainy night, close to the outskirts of the village. The missionaries heard them bellowing, and making an extraordinary noise, for a long time, at the upper end of the orchard; but, knowing well how dangerous it is to encounter these powerful animals in the night, they kept close within their houses till daylight. Next morning, on their examining the spot where they had heard the elephants, they discovered the cause of all this nocturnal uproar. There was at this spot a ditch or trench, about four or five feet in width, and nearly fourteen feet in depth, which the industrious missionaries had recently cut through the banks of the river, on purpose to lead out water to irrigate some part of their garden, and to drive a corn-mill. Into this trench, which was still unfinished, and without water, one of the elephants had evidently fallen, for the marks of his feet were distinctly visible at the bottom, as well as the impress of his huge body on the sides.

"How he had got into it, was not easy to conjecture; but how, being once in, he ever contrived to get out again, was the marvel. By his own unaided efforts it was obviously impossible for such an animal to have extricated himself. Could his comrades, then, have assisted him? There can be no question that they had, though by what means, unless by hauling him out with their trunks, it would not be easy to conjecture; and, in corroboration of this supposition, on examining the spot myself, I found the edges of this trench deeply indented with numerous vestiges, as if the other elephants had stationed themselves on either side,—some of them kneeling, and others on their feet,—and had thus, by united efforts, and probably after many failures, hoisted their unlucky brother out of the pit."

We are told that the Emperor Domitian had a troop of elephants disciplined to dance to the sound of music; and that one of them, which had been beaten for not having his lesson perfect, was observed, on the following night, to be practising by himself in a meadow.

The elephant recently exhibited in New York was fed by a young girl with cakes and apples. While in the act of pulling an apple from her bag, she drew out her ivory card-case, which fell, unobserved, in the sawdust of the ring. At the close of the performances, the crowd opened to let the elephant pass out; but, instead of proceeding as usual, he turned aside, and thrust his trunk in the midst of a group of ladies and gentlemen, who, as might be supposed, were very much alarmed. The keeper at this moment discovered that the animal had something in his trunk: upon examination, it was found to be the young lady's card-case, which the elephant had picked up, and was now seeking out the fair owner.

A female elephant, belonging to a gentleman at Calcutta, being ordered from the upper country to Chittagong, broke loose from her keeper, and was lost in the woods. The excuses which the man made were not admitted. It was supposed that he had sold the elephant. His wife and family were, therefore, sold as slaves, and he was himself condemned to work upon the roads. About twelve years after, this man was ordered into the country to assist in catching wild elephants. In a group that he saw before him, the keeper thought that he recognized his long-lost elephant. He was determined to go up to it; nor could the strongest representations of the danger dissuade him from his purpose.

When he approached the creature, she knew him and, giving him three salutes by waving her trunk in the air, knelt down and received him on her back. She afterwards assisted in securing the other elephants, and likewise brought with her three young ones, which she had produced during her absence. The keeper recovered his character; and, as a recompense for his sufferings and intrepidity, an annuity was settled on him for life. This elephant was afterwards in the possession of Warren Hastings.

Of the attachment of elephants to their keepers, or to those who have done them a kindness, many instances are on record. Ælian relates that a man of rank in India, having very carefully trained up a female elephant, used daily to ride upon her. She was exceedingly sagacious, and much attached to her master. The prince, having heard of the extraordinary gentleness and capacity of this animal, demanded her of her owner. But so attached was this person to his elephant, that he resolved to keep her at all hazards, and fled with her to the mountains. The prince, having heard of his retreat, ordered a party of soldiers to pursue, and bring back the fugitive with his elephant. They overtook him at the top of a steep hill, where he defended himself by throwing stones down upon his pursuers, in which he was assisted by his faithful elephant, who threw stones with great dexterity. At length, however, the soldiers gained the summit of the hill, and were about to seize the fugitive, when the elephant rushed amongst them with the utmost fury, trampled some to death, dashed others to the ground with her trunk, and put the rest to flight. She then placed her master, who was wounded in the contest upon her back, and conveyed him to a place of security.

When Pyrrhus, king of Epirus, attacked the territory of Argos, one of his soldiers, who was mounted upon an elephant, received a dangerous wound, and fell to the ground. When the elephant discovered that he had lost his master in the tumult, he furiously rushed among the crowd, dispersing them in every direction, till he had found him. He then raised him from the ground with his trunk, and, placing him across his tusks, carried him back to the town.

Some years ago, an elephant at Dekan, from a motive of revenge, killed its conductor. The wife of the unfortunate man was witness to the dreadful scene; and, in the frenzy of her mental agony, took her two children, and threw them at the feet of the elephant, saying, "As you have slain my husband, take my life, also, as well as that of my children!" The elephant became calm, seemed to relent, and, as if stung with remorse, took up the eldest boy with its trunk, placed him on its neck, adopted him for its cornac, and never afterwards allowed another to occupy that seat.

A soldier, in India, was in the habit of giving to an elephant, whenever he received his pay, a certain quantity of arrack. Once, being intoxicated, this soldier committed some excesses, and was ordered to be sent to the guard-house; but he fled from the soldiers who were sent to apprehend him, and took refuge under the body of his favorite elephant, where he laid himself down quietly, and fell asleep. In vain the guard attempted to seize upon him, and draw him from his place of refuge; for the grateful elephant defended him with his trunk, and they were obliged to abandon their attempt to secure him. When the soldier awoke next morning from his drunken slumber, he was very much alarmed at finding himself under the belly of such an enormous animal; but the elephant caressed him with his trunk, so as to quiet his apprehensions, and he got up and departed in safety.

The author of the "Twelve Years' Military Adventures" says,—"I have seen the wife of a mohout give a baby in charge to an elephant, while she was on some business, and have been highly amused in observing the sagacity and care of the unwieldy nurse. The child, which, like most children, did not like to lie still in one position, would, as soon as left to itself, begin crawling about, in which exercise it would probably get among the legs of the animal, or entangle itself in the branches of the trees on which he was feeding, when the elephant would, in the most tender manner, disengage his charge, either by lifting it out of the way with his trunk, or by removing the impediments to his free progress. If the child had crawled to such a distance as to verge upon the limits of his range,—for the animal was chained by the leg to a peg driven into the ground,—he would stretch out his trunk, and lift it back, as gently as possible, to the spot whence it had started."

The elephant is not less disposed to resent an injury than to reward a benefit. It has been frequently observed, by those who have had the charge of these animals, that they seem sensible of being ridiculed, and seldom miss an opportunity of revenging themselves for the insults they receive in this way. An artist in Paris wished to draw the elephant in the menagerie at the Jardin des Plantes in an extraordinary attitude, which was with his trunk elevated in the air, and his mouth open. An attendant on the artist, to make the elephant preserve the attitude, threw fruits into his mouth, and often pretended to throw them, without doing so. The animal became irritated, and, seeming to think that the painter was the cause of his annoyance, turned to him, and dashed a quantity of water from his trunk over the paper on which the painter was sketching the portrait.

An amusing anecdote is related, by Captain Williamson, of an elephant, which went by the name of the paugal, or fool, who, by his sagacity, showed he could act with wisdom. This animal, when on a march, refused to carry on his back a larger load than was agreeable to him, and pulled down as much of the burden as reduced it to the weight which he conceived proper for him to bear. One day, the quarter-master of brigade became enraged at this obstinacy in the animal, and threw a tent-pin at his head. A few days afterwards, as the creature was on his way from camp to water, he overtook the quarter-master, and, seizing him in his trunk, lifted him into a large tamarind-tree, which overhung the road, and left him to cling to the branches, and to get down the best way he could.

We shall conclude our anecdotes of the elephant with one which shows it in a most amiable light. The Rajah Dowlah chose once to take the diversion of hunting in the neighborhood of Lucknow, where there was a great abundance of game. The grand vizier rode his favorite elephant, and was accompanied by a train of Indian nobility. They had to pass through a ravine leading to a meadow, in which several sick persons were lying on the ground, in order to receive what benefit they could from exposure to the air and the rays of the sun. As the vizier approached with his numerous hunting party, the attendants of these sick persons betook themselves to flight, leaving the helpless patients to their fate. The nabob seriously intended to pass with his elephants over the bodies of these poor wretches. He therefore ordered the driver to goad on his beast. The elephant, as long as he had a free path, went on at full trot; but, as soon as he came to the first of the sick people, he stopped. The driver goaded him, and the vizier cursed; but in vain. "Stick the beast in the ear!" cried the nabob. It was done; but the animal remained steadfast before the helpless human creatures. At length, when the elephant saw that no one came to remove the patients, he took up one of them with his trunk, and laid him cautiously and gently to a side. He proceeded in the same way with a second and a third; and, in short, with as many as it was necessary to remove, in order to form a free passage, through which the nabob's retinue could pass without injuring any of them. How little did this noble animal deserve to be rode by such an unfeeling brute in human form!

THE HIPPOPOTAMUS.

This is among the largest of quadrupeds, being sometimes twelve feet long, and six feet high. Its body is very massive, its legs short, and its head large. The skin is extremely thick. It lives on the muddy banks of rivers in Africa, diving on the approach of danger. It eats grass, and generally feeds at night. It swims well, and walks on the bottom with ease. The negroes of Africa hunt this animal for his flesh, and when one of them is captured, it is the signal for a general feast.

Effect of Music.—The enterprising and lamented traveller Clapperton informs us that, when he was departing on a warlike expedition from Lake Muggaby, he had convincing proofs that the hippopotami are sensibly affected by musical sounds. "As the expedition passed along the banks of the lake at sunrise," says he, "these uncouth and stupendous animals followed the drums the whole length of the water, sometimes approaching so close to the shore, that the spray they spouted from their mouths reached the persons who were passing along the banks. I counted fifteen, at one time, sporting on the surface of the water."

Hunting the Hippopotamus.—Dr. Edward Russell gives us the following account of a hunt of the hippopotamus in Dongola: "One of the animals that we killed was of an enormous size. We fought with him for four good hours by night, and were very near losing our large boat, and probably our lives too, owing to the fury of the animal. As soon as he spied the huntsmen in the small canoe, he dashed at them with all his might, dragged the canoe with him under water, and smashed it to pieces. The two huntsmen escaped with difficulty. Of twenty-five musket-balls aimed at the head, only one pierced the skin, and the bones of the nose; at each snorting, the animal spouted out large streams of blood on the boat. The rest of the balls stuck in the thick hide.

"At last, we availed ourselves of a swivel; but it was not till we had discharged five balls from it, at the distance of a few feet, that the colossus gave up the ghost. The darkness of the night increased the danger of the contest; for this gigantic animal tossed our boat about in the stream at his pleasure; and it was at a fortunate moment indeed for us that he gave up the struggle, as he had carried us into a complete labyrinth of rocks, which, in the midst of the confusion, none of our crew had observed."

THE RHINOCEROS.

In common with the lion and elephant, the rhinoceros frequents the vast deserts of Asia and Africa. Its appearance is chiefly remarkable, from possessing one solid conical horn on the nose, sometimes three feet in length, and from having the skin disposed about the neck in large plaits or folds. The body of this animal is little inferior in size to the elephant, but he is much shorter in the legs; his length, from the muzzle to the tail, is nearly twelve feet, and the girth about the same measurement: from the shortness of his legs, the belly nearly touches the ground.

The rhinoceros can run with great swiftness; and, from his strength, and hard, impenetrable hide, he is capable of rushing through the thickets with resistless fury, almost every obstacle being quickly overturned in his track. There is a two-horned species in Africa, but little is known of it.

In India, the hunting of the rhinoceros is famous sport. The people go out mounted on elephants, and usually find five or six of these animals in a drove. Their hides are so thick that it is difficult to kill them. One will often receive twenty bullets before he falls. The rhinoceros attacks an elephant fearlessly, and endeavors to get his horn under him, so as to rip him open. But the elephant, finding what he would be at, turns his rear to the assailant, who gives him a hunch behind, and tumbles his huge enemy upon his knees. Then the men upon the elephants fire their guns, and pepper the thick hide of the rhinoceros with their bullets.

Anecdotes.—In the year 1790, a rhinoceros arrived in England, about five years old, and was purchased by Mr. Pidcock, of Exeter 'Change, for seven hundred pounds. He was very mild, and allowed himself to be patted on the back by strangers. He was quite obedient to the orders of his keepers, and would move through the apartment to exhibit himself. His daily allowance of food was twenty-eight pounds' weight of clover, besides an equal provision of ship bread, and a great quantity of greens; he drank five pails of water every twenty-four hours. He liked sweet wines, and was sometimes indulged with a few bottles. His voice resembled that of a calf, which he usually exerted at the sight of fruit, or any favorite food. This animal suffered much from a dislocation of the joint of one of his fore-legs, which induced inflammation, and he died nine months afterwards.

The following particulars of a rhinoceros, exhibited at Exeter 'Change, were obtained, by the late Sir Everard Home, from the person who kept him for three years. "It was so savage," says he, "that, about a month after it came, it endeavored to kill the keeper, and nearly succeeded. It ran at him with the greatest impetuosity; but, fortunately, the horn passed between his thighs, and threw the keeper on its head; the horn came against a wooden partition, into which the animal forced it to such a depth as to be unable for a minute to withdraw it; and, during this interval, the man escaped. Its skin, though apparently so hard, is only covered with small scales, of the thickness of paper, with the appearance of tortoise-shell; at the edges of these, the skin itself is exceedingly sensible, either to the bite of a fly or the lash of a whip. By discipline, the keeper got the management of it, and the animal was brought to know him; but frequently, more especially in the middle of the night, fits of frenzy came on; and, while these lasted, nothing could control its rage,—the rhinoceros running with great swiftness round the den, playing all kinds of antics, making hideous noises, knocking every thing to pieces, disturbing the whole neighborhood, and then, all at once, becoming quiet. While the fit was on, even the keeper durst not make his approach. The animal fell upon its knee when it wished to strike any object with its horn. It was quick in all its motions, ate voraciously all kinds of vegetables, appearing to have no selection. It was chiefly fed on branches of willow. Three years' confinement made no alteration in its habits."

THE WILD BOAR.

This is the original from which all the different kinds of the tame hog have sprung. He is not subject to the varieties of the domestic races, but is uniformly of a brindled or dark gray, inclining to black. His snout is longer than that of the tame hog, his ears short, and pricked. He has formidable tusks in each jaw, sometimes nearly a foot long,—those in the upper jaw bending upwards in a circular form, exceedingly sharp, being those with which the animal defends himself, and frequently inflicts mortal wounds.

The wild boar is to be met with in various parts of Europe, Asia, and Africa. The hunting of this animal has always afforded a rather barbarous sport to the natives of the countries in which it is to be found. The season for this sport is in the beginning of winter. The huntsmen ride with the dogs, and encourage them at the same time that, by the spear, they endeavor to dishearten the boar. The weapon is generally directed towards the front of the animal's head, but cautiously; for, were the boar to seize the spear, which it attempts to do, it would wrest it from the hand of the hunter; and the latter, unless supported, would fall a victim to its strength and ferocity. There are generally more hunters than one; the boar is called off by each man as he provokes it, and the animal thus generally perishes by a series of attacks.

Anecdotes.—A boar from Ethiopia was, in 1765, sent by the governor of the Cape of Good Hope to the Prince of Orange. From confinement and attention he became tolerably mild and gentle, except when offended, in which case even those persons to whose care he was intrusted were afraid of him. In general, however, when the door of his cage was opened, he came out in perfect good-humor, frisked about in search of food, and greedily devoured whatever was given him. He was one day left alone in the court-yard for a few minutes; and, on the return of the keeper, was found busily digging into the earth, where, notwithstanding the cemented bricks of the pavement, he had made a very large hole, for the purpose, as was afterwards conceived, of reaching a common sewer that passed at a considerable depth below. When, after long confinement, he was set at liberty, for a little while he was very gay, and leaped about in an entertaining manner.

During Sparman's residence in Africa, he witnessed a curious method by which the wild hogs protected their young, when pursued. The heads of the females, which, at the commencement of the chase, had seemed of a tolerable size, appeared, on a sudden, to have grown larger and more shapeless than they were. This he found to have been occasioned by the fact, that each of the old ones, during its flight, had taken up and carried forward a young pig in its mouth; and this explained to him another subject of surprise, which was, that all the pigs he had just before been chasing with the old ones, had suddenly vanished.

THE DOMESTIC HOG.

The effect of domestication on the larger animals seems to be a diminution of their powers of resistance or defence, no longer necessary to their safety; and, on account of the want of free exercise, an increase of size, attended by a relaxation of the fibres and frame of the body. In this way, domestication has told with considerable disadvantage on the hog. By the diminution of the size of its tusks, and of its inclination or power to use them, it ceases to be very formidable; and by luxurious habits, by overfeeding, and indolence, the animal that fearlessly ranges the forest becomes one whose sole delight it seems to be to rise to eat, and to lie down to digest, and one whose external appearance, beyond that of any other quadruped, testifies the gluttony of its disposition and of its practices. The hog uses considerable selection in its vegetable diet, but it compensates itself for the loss which its appetite might thus sustain, by occasional recourse to animal food.

Miscellaneous Anecdotes.—The following statement, made a few years ago by a gentleman in Stanbridge, England, develops the carnivorous propensities which the hog sometimes discovers, even in a condition of perfect domestication,—the variety too of animals which it is inclined to devour. "I had a pig," says this writer, "of the Chinese species, a most voracious fellow; but through necessity I have lately been obliged to have him killed, finding that he endangered the safety of my rabbits, hens, and ducks. Previous to possessing him, I had a small warren of about forty yards square, walled in, and well stocked with various-colored rabbits, which I had been at infinite pains to collect. But, unfortunately, one day a rabbit having intruded into his sty, the pig immediately caught and devoured it. This having given him an opportunity of knowing the agreeable flavor of rabbit, he next day, when let out, directed his course to the warren, and soon was successful in securing another; he then returned to his sty, and consumed it with the greatest avidity.

"After this circumstance occurred, he was confined three weeks; but being again set at liberty, he immediately returned to his favorite pursuit, and, after trying various manœuvres for the space of a quarter of an hour he seized another rabbit, and was returning, when I ordered my servant to take it away. Unluckily for the servant, the pig, after trying many devices to get by him, crouched for a moment, and then, running furiously at him, seized on his leg, lacerating it so severely, that he was confined to the house for six weeks. So greedy was the pig, that, while the man was limping towards the house, he actually went back to his prey, and carried it off victoriously.

"Being at a party the next day, and relating the above, a gentleman in company appeared to doubt the veracity of the account. I asked him, with the rest of the party, to dine with me the following day, that they might witness the exploits of the creature. They all attended at an early hour. No sooner had we released him, than off he went with the most voracious eagerness, and entered the warren through a hole in the wall; but he was not quite so successful to-day, for, after making many fruitless attempts, most of the rabbits were driven to their burrows. He now seemed as we supposed, despairing of success, as he lay down amongst some furze; but, on our returning to the house, we were surprised by the cry of his victim, and, immediately turning round, saw him coming through the hole in the wall with a fine black rabbit. The gentleman who doubted the facts over-night nearly met the fate of my servant; but by actively springing over him, at the moment the furious animal was seizing his legs, he escaped unhurt. After showing his dexterity to many more gentlemen, I devised means to keep him out of the warren. The carnivorous animal then took to my ducks and hens. Still, however, I put up with his depredations while he confined himself to my own yard; but having visited a neighbor's, and killed two ducks and a favorite Guinea-hen, and much frightened the lady who went to drive him away, I was obliged to kill him the next morning."

A gamekeeper of Sir Henry Mildmay, of England, broke a black sow to find game, back, and stand to her point, nearly as steadily as a well-bred dog. The sow was a thin, long-legged animal, of the New Forest breed. When young, she manifested a great partiality for some pointer puppies; and it occurred to the gamekeeper, that, as he had often succeeded with obstinate dogs, he might attempt to break a pig. He enticed her to follow him by bits of barley-meal pudding, which he carried in one of his pockets, while the other was filled with stones, which he threw at his pupil when she misbehaved, as she would not allow herself to be caught and corrected, like a dog. Under this system she proved tolerably tractable. When she came on the cold scent of game, she slackened her trot, and gradually dropped her ears and tail till she was certain, and then fell down on her knees. As soon as the game rose, she returned, grunting, for her reward of pudding.

When the gamekeeper died, his widow sent the pig to Sir Henry Mildmay, who kept it for three years, and often amused his friends by hiding a fowl among the fern in some part of the park, and bringing out the pig, which never failed to point at it in the manner described. Some time after, a great number of lambs were lost nearly as soon as they were dropped; and a person, being sent to watch the flock, detected the sow in the act of devouring a lamb. This carnivorous propensity was ascribed to her having been accustomed to feed with the dogs on flesh; but it obliterated the memory of her singular sagacity, and she was killed for the benefit of the widow of the gamekeeper who had trained her.

THE TAPIR.

This quadruped resembles the hog in shape, but is much larger. It is of a brown color, and has a long, flexible nose, somewhat like the elephant's trunk. It sleeps during the day, and goes forth at night in search of pasture, melons, and vegetables. One species is found in South America, and one in Malacca and Sumatra. It is docile, is easily tamed, and capable of strong attachments.

A young specimen of this animal was sent from Sumatra to Bengal, which became very tractable. It was allowed to roam in the park, and frequently entered the ponds, and walked along on the bottom, making no attempt to swim.

A full-grown tapir was recently at the Zoological Gardens, in London, which seemed to thrive very well. From its curious formation, and its gentle, inoffensive manners, it became an object of great attraction.

THE HORSE.

This animal is now only known in a domestic state, or, if wild, but as the offspring of domestic varieties. Most countries possess races of this animal peculiar to themselves. The finest breed is that of Arabia. The horse may be considered the most valuable of all the brute creation to man. He combines strength, speed, and docility, beyond any other animal. The wild herds in the western regions, Mexico, and South America, are sprung from horses brought into the country by the Spaniards.

The Arabian horse is a hardy animal, "left exposed," says Chateaubriand, "to the most intense heat of the sun, tied by the four legs to stakes set in the ground, and refreshed generally only once in the twenty-four hours. Yet," continues the same writer, "release his legs from the shackles, spring upon his back, and he will paw in the valley; he will rejoice in his strength; he will swallow the ground in the fierceness of his rage, and you recognize the original picture of Job."

Miscellaneous Anecdotes.—The Arab has a strong affection for his horse; nor is it wonderful, when we consider that he is his support and comfort—his companion through many a dreary day and night, enduring hunger and thirst in his service. From their constant community, a kind of sociality of feeling exists between them. The terms in which he addresses his horse are thus given by Clarke: "Ibrahim went frequently to Rama to inquire news of the mare, whom he dearly loved; he would embrace her, wipe her eyes with his handkerchief, would rub her with his shirt sleeves, would give her a thousand benedictions during whole hours that he would remain talking to her. 'My eyes! my soul! my heart!' he would say; 'must I be so unfortunate as to have thee sold to many masters, and not keep thee myself? I am poor, my antelope! I brought thee up in my dwelling as a child; I did never beat nor chide thee.'" But the poverty of the Arabs, and the desire of foreigners to possess their horses, frequently compel them to do what they so much deprecate—to sell their horse. A horse he may be tempted by a large sum to part with, but to sell a mare is a heart-rending trial to an Arab. "When the envoy," says Sir John Malcolm, "was encamped near Bagdad, an Arab rode a bright bay mare, of extraordinary shape and beauty, before his tent, until he attracted his attention. On being asked if he would sell her, 'What will you give me?' was the reply. 'That depends upon her age; I suppose she is past five.' 'Guess again,' said he. 'Four?' 'Look at her mouth,' said the Arab, with a smile. On examination, she was found to be rising three. This, from her size and symmetry, greatly enhanced her value. The envoy said, 'I will give you fifty tomans,' (a coin nearly of the value of a pound sterling.) 'A little more, if you please,' said the fellow, a little entertained. 'Eighty—a hundred.' He shook his head and smiled. The officer at last came to two hundred tomans. 'Well,' said the Arab, 'you need not tempt me further. You are a rich elchee, (nobleman;) you have fine horses, camels, and mules, and I am told you have loads of silver and gold. Now,' added he, 'you want my mare; but you shall not have her for all you have got.'"

Nor does the Arabian horse fail to repay the attachment of his master. It not only flies with him over the desert, but, when he lies down to sleep, the faithful animal will browse on such herbage as is near the spot; will watch its master with solicitude; and, if a man or animal approaches, will neigh loudly till he is awakened. "When I was at Jerusalem," says Chateaubriand, "the feats of one of these steeds made a great noise. The Bedouin to whom the animal, a mare, belonged, being pursued by the governor's guards, rushed with him from the top of the hills that overlooked Jericho. The mare scoured at full gallop down an almost perpendicular declivity without stumbling, and left the soldiers lost in admiration and astonishment. The poor creature, however, dropped down dead on entering Jericho; and the Bedouin, who would not quit her, was taken, weeping over the body of his faithful companion. Ali Aga religiously showed me, in the mountains near Jericho, the footsteps of the beast that died in the attempt to save her master!"

The powers of the horse, as evinced in certain cases, appear almost incredible. At four o'clock in the morning, a gentleman was robbed at Gadshill, on the west side of Chatham, England, by a highwayman named Nicks, who rode a bay mare. Nicks set off instantly for Gravesend, where he was detained nearly an hour by the difficulty of getting a boat—an interval which he employed to advantage in baiting his horse. From thence he got to Essex and Chelmsford, where he again stopped about half an hour, to refresh his horse. He then went to Braintree, Bocking, Westerfield, and over the downs to Cambridge, and, still pursuing the cross roads, he went to Huntingdon, where he again rested about half an hour. Proceeding now on the north road, and at full gallop most of the way, he arrived at York the same afternoon, put off his boots and riding clothes, and went dressed to the bowling-green, where, among other promenaders, happened to be the lord mayor of the city. He there studied to do something particular, that his lordship might remember him, and, asking what o'clock it was, the mayor informed him that it was a quarter past eight. Upon prosecution for the robbery, the whole safety of the prisoner rested upon this point. The gentleman swore positively to the time and place; but, on the other hand, the proof was equally clear of his being at York at the time specified. The jury acquitted him on the supposed impossibility of his having got so great a distance from Kent by the time he was seen in the bowling-green. Yet it appeared afterwards that he was the robber, and had performed this feat of horsemanship to escape conviction.

Very extraordinary performances of the horse, in swimming, are on record. A violent gale of wind, at the Cape of Good Hope, setting in from north and northwest, a vessel in the road dragged her anchors, was forced on the rocks, and bilged; and, while the greater part of the crew fell an immediate sacrifice to the waves, the remainder were seen, from the shore, struggling for their lives by clinging to the different pieces of the wreck. The sea ran dreadfully high, and broke over the sailors with such amazing fury that no boat whatever could venture off to their assistance. Meanwhile a planter, considerably advanced in life, had come from his farm to be a spectator of the shipwreck. His heart melted at the sight of the unhappy seamen; and, knowing the bold and enterprising spirit of his horse, and his particular excellence as a swimmer, he instantly determined to make a desperate effort for their deliverance. He alighted, and blew a little brandy into his horse's nostrils, and again seating himself in the saddle, he instantly pushed into the midst of the breakers. At first both disappeared; but it was not long before they floated on the surface, and swam up to the wreck; when, taking with him two men, each of whom held by one of his boots, he brought them safe to shore. This perilous expedition he repeated no less than seven times, and saved fourteen lives; but, on his return the eighth time, his horse being much fatigued, and meeting a most formidable wave, he lost his balance, and was overwhelmed in a moment. The horse swam safely to land, but his gallant rider was no more!

The effects of habit and discipline upon the horse are exemplified by the following anecdotes:—An old cavalry horse has been known to stop, in the midst of a rapid gallop, on hearing the word Halt, uttered by an officer in the ranks. The Tyrolese, in one of their insurrections in 1809, took fifteen Bavarian horses, on which they mounted as many of their own soldiers. A rencounter occurring with a squadron of the regiment of Bubenhoven, these horses, on hearing the trumpet and recognizing the uniform of their corps, set off at full gallop, and carried their riders, in spite of all their resistance, into the midst of the Bavarian ranks, where they were made prisoners.

Previously to the erection of the cavalry barracks in Glasgow, the detachment of horse for the west of Scotland was sometimes divided between Hamilton and Kilmarnock. Those assigned to the latter place, having been sent to the fine grass fields in the vicinity of Loudon Castle, presented on one occasion a most striking appearance. The day was heavy and sultry; the thunder, which had at first been heard only at a distance, began to increase in loudness and frequency, and drew the marked attention of the horses. As it still became more loud, and the numerous peals, echoed along the extensive slopes of Galston Moor, crept along the water of the Irvine, or were reverberated through the woods, the horses became animated with the same enthusiasm which seizes them on hearing the rolling sounds emitted from numerous cannon. They rushed together, and, rapidly arranging themselves in their accustomed ranks, presented the front of a field of battle.

In the following case, related by Professor Kruger, of Halle, the horse has rivalled the most remarkable examples of the sagacity and fidelity of the dog. "A friend of mine," says he, "who was, one dark night, riding home through a wood, had the misfortune to strike his head against the branch of a tree, and fell from his horse stunned by the blow. The horse immediately returned to the house they had left, which stood about a mile distant. He found the door closed—the family had retired to bed. He pawed at the door, till one of them, hearing the noise, arose and opened it, and, to his surprise, saw the horse of his friend. No sooner was the door opened than the horse turned round; and the man, suspecting there was something wrong, followed the animal, which led him directly to the spot where his master lay on the ground in a fainting fit."

A horse in England, among other bad propensities, constantly resented the attempts of the groom to trim his fetlocks. This circumstance had been mentioned in a conversation, during which a young child, a very few years old, was present, when its owner defied any man to perform the operation singly. The father, next day, in passing through the stable-yard, beheld, with the utmost distress, the infant employed, with a pair of scissors, in clipping the fetlocks of the hind legs of this vicious hunter—an operation which had been always hitherto performed with great danger, even by a number of men. But the horse, in the present case, was looking with the greatest complacency on the little groom, who soon after, to the very great relief of his father, walked off unhurt.

A gentleman in Bristol had a greyhound which slept in the same stable, and contracted a very great intimacy, with a fine hunter. When the dog was taken out, the horse neighed wistfully after him; he welcomed him home with a neigh; the greyhound ran up to the horse and licked him; the horse, in return, scratched the greyhound's back with his teeth. On one occasion, when the groom had the pair out for exercise, a large dog attacked the greyhound, bore him to the ground, and seemed likely to worry him, when the horse threw back his ears, rushed forward, seized the strange dog by the back, and flung him to a distance.

That the horse is much affected by musical sounds, must be evident to every one who has paid attention to its motions, and the expression of its countenance, while listening to the performances of a military band. It is even said that, in ancient times, the Libyan shepherds were enabled to allure to them wild horses by the charms of music. That this is at least not entirely improbable, is evident from an experiment made by a gentleman, in the year 1829, on some of the Duke of Buccleuch's hunters. The horses being shy of his approach, and, indeed, retreating from it, he sounded a small musical instrument, called the mouth Eolian harp. On hearing it, they immediately erected their heads, and turned round. On his again sounding it, they approached nearer him. He began to retreat, and they to follow. Having gone over a paling, one of the horses came up to him, putting its mouth close to his breast, and seemingly delighted with the sounds which he continued to produce. As the other horses were coming up, apparently to follow the example of their more confident comrade, the gentleman retired.

A farmer in England, on his way home one evening, having drank rather hard at an alehouse, could not keep an erect position on his horse, and rolled off the animal into the road. His horse stood still; but, after remaining patiently for some time, and not perceiving any disposition in his rider to get up and proceed farther, he took him by the collar and shook him. This had little or no effect, for the farmer only gave a grumble of dissatisfaction at having his repose disturbed. The horse was not to be put off with any such evasion, and so he applied his mouth to one of his coat-laps, and after several attempts, by dragging at it, to raise him upon his feet, the coat-lap gave way. Three individuals who witnessed this extraordinary proceeding then went up, and assisted in putting him on his horse, putting the one coat-lap into the pocket of the other, when the horse trotted off and safely reached home. He was said to be very fond of his master, and to gambol with him like a dog.

As a gentleman was proceeding from a survey at Fort Augustus to his own house,—a distance of about sixteen miles,—the road became completely blocked up by snow, and nearly indiscernible. In this dilemma, he thought it best to trust to his horse, and, loosing the reins, allowed him to choose his own course. The animal made way, cautiously and slowly, till, coming to a gully or ravine, both horse and rider suddenly disappeared in a snow wreath several fathoms deep. The gentleman, on recovering, found himself nearly three yards from the dangerous spot, with his faithful horse standing over him and licking the snow from his face. He supposed that the bridle must have been attached to his person, by means of which he had been drawn out of the pit.

A cart-horse belonging to a Mr. Leggat, of Glasgow had been several times afflicted with the bots, and as often cured by a farrier by the name of Dawine. He had not, however, been troubled with that disease for a considerable time; but on a recurrence of the disorder, he happened, one morning, to be employed nearly a mile from the farrier's house. He was arranged in a row with other horses engaged in the same work, and, while the carters were absent, he went, unattended by any driver, through several streets, and up a narrow lane, when he stopped at the farrier's door. As neither Mr. Leggat nor any one else appeared with the horse, it was surmised that he had been seized with his old complaint. Being unyoked from the cart, he lay down, and showed, by every means of which he was capable, that he was in distress. He was treated as usual, and sent home to Mr. Leggat, who had by that time sent persons in all directions in search of him.

A curious instance of instinct occurred at Bristol, England, some years ago, which proves the great local memory possessed by horses. A person, apparently a townsman, recognized a horse, bestrode by a countryman, to be one which he had lost about nine months before. He seized his property, and put in his claim: "This is my horse. I will prove it in two minutes, or quit my claim." He then set the horse free, and declared his proof to be that the horse would be found at his stables, at some distance—a fact that was attested, in a few minutes, by the two claimants, and several bystanders, repairing to the stables, where they found the horse "quite at home."

The celebrated Polish General Kosciusko once wished to send some bottles of good wine to a clergyman at Solothurn; and, as he hesitated to send them by his servant, lest he should smuggle a part, he gave the commission to a young man of the name of Zeltner, and desired him to take the horse he usually rode. Young Zeltner, on returning, said that he would never ride his horse again without he gave him his purse at the same time. Kosciusko asking him what he meant, he answered, "As soon as a poor man on the road takes off his hat, and asks for charity, the horse immediately stands still, and will not stir till something is given to the petitioner; and as I had no money about me, I was obliged to make a motion as if I had given something, in order to satisfy the horse." A higher eulogy could hardly be pronounced upon the owner of the horse.

The wild horses of the western country are thus described by Mr. Catlin: "There is no other animal on the prairies so wild and sagacious as the horse, and none so difficult to come up with. So remarkably keen is their eye, that they will generally run 'at sight' a mile distant; and, when once in motion, they seldom stop short of three or four miles. I made many attempts to approach them by stealth, when they were grazing, and playing their gambols, without succeeding more than once. In this instance I left my horse, and skulked through a ravine for a couple of miles, until I was within gunshot of a fine herd of them. These were of all colors—some milk-white, some jet-black; others were sorrel, and bay, and cream color; and many were of an iron-gray. Their manes were profuse, and hanging in the wildest confusion over their faces and necks, while their long tails swept the ground."

The Camanches and other tribes of Indians capture great numbers of wild horses. The process is described by Catlin as follows: "The Indian, when he starts for a wild horse, mounts one of the fleetest he can get, and, coiling his lasso under his arm, which consists of a thong of cowhide ten or fifteen yards long, with a noose at the end of it, he starts under 'full whip' till he can enter the drove, when he soon gets the noose over the neck of one of them. He then dismounts, leaving his own horse, and runs as fast as he can, letting the lasso pass out gradually and carefully through his hands, until the horse falls for want of breath, and lies helpless on the ground. The Indian then advances slowly towards his head, keeping the lasso tight upon his neck, until he fastens a pair of hobbles on his two fore feet, and also loosens the lasso, and moves it round the under jaws; by which he gets great power over the affrighted animal, which is constantly rearing and plunging. He then advances, hand over hand, towards the horse's nose, and places one hand over his eyes; he then breathes in his nostrils, when he soon becomes conquered and docile, and allows himself to be led or ridden to the camp."

It appears that horses are subject to a kind of panic, which in the western prairies is called stampede. The instances of this frenzy, as described by travellers, sometimes present the most terrific spectacles. Mr. Kendall, in his "Narrative," gives us the following lively sketch:—

"As there was no wood about our camping-ground, some half a dozen men pushed on in search of it. One of them had a wild, half-broken Mexican horse, naturally vicious, and with difficulty mastered. His rider found a small, dry tree, cut it down with a hatchet, and very imprudently made it fast to his horse's tail by means of a rope. The animal took it unkindly from the first, and dragged his strange load with evident symptoms of fright; but when within a few hundred yards of the camp, he commenced pitching, and finally set off into a gallop, with the cause of all his uneasiness and fear still fast to his tail. His course was directly for the camp; and, as he sped along the prairie, it was evident that our horses were stricken with a panic at his approach. At first they would prick up their ears, snort, and trot majestically about in circles; then they would dash off at the top of their speed, and no human power could arrest their mad career.

"'A stampede!' shouted some of the old campaigners,—a stampede! Look out for your horses, or you'll never see them again,' was heard on every side. Fortunately for us, the more intractable horses had been not only staked, but hobbled, before the panic became general, and were secured with little difficulty; else we might have lost half of them. Frequent instances have occurred where a worthless horse has occasioned the loss of hundreds of valuable animals.

"Nothing can exceed the grandeur of the scene when a large cavallada, or drove of horses, takes a 'scare.' Old, weather-beaten, time-worn, and broken-down steeds—horses that have nearly given out from hard work and old age—will at once be transformed into wild and prancing colts. With heads erect, tails and manes streaming in the air, eyes lit up, and darting beams of fright,—old and jaded hacks will be seen prancing and careering about with all the buoyancy which characterizes the action of young colts. Then some one of the drove, more frightened than the rest, will dash off in a straight line, the rest scampering after him, and apparently gaining fresh fear at every jump. The throng will then sweep along the plain with a noise which may be likened to something between a tornado and an earthquake; and as well might feeble man attempt to arrest the earthquake as the stampede."

THE PONY.

This is a variety of the horse—its small stature being the result of the climate in which it is bred. The most remarkable kinds are produced in Wales, the Highlands of Scotland, and the Shetland Isles.

Miscellaneous Anecdotes.—One afternoon in September, a gentleman in England, mounted on a favorite old shooting pony, had beaten for game all day without meeting with any success, when, on a sudden, to his great astonishment, his pony stopped short, and he could not persuade him to move, either by whip or spur. He desired his keeper to go forward. He did. A covey of fifteen partridges rose. They were, of course, killed by the astonished sportsman. The pony had been accustomed to carry his master for many years on shooting expeditions, and had, no doubt, acquired a knowledge of the scent of birds.

A little girl, the daughter of a gentleman in Warwickshire, England, playing one day on the banks of a canal which ran through the grounds, had the misfortune to fall in, and in all probability would have been drowned, had not a little pony, which was grazing near, and which had been kept by the family many years, plunged into the stream, and, taking the child up by her clothes, brought her safely to shore without the slightest injury.

A gentleman was some time since presented with a Shetland pony, which was only seven hands in height, and very docile and beautiful. He was anxious to convey his present home as soon as possible, but, being at a considerable distance, he was at a loss how to do so easily. The friend who presented it to him said, "Can you not convey him home in your chaise?" He accordingly made the experiment. The pony was lifted into the bottom of the gig, and covered up with the boot—some bits of bread being given him, to keep him quiet. He lay quite peaceably till his master had reached his place of destination; thus exhibiting the novel spectacle of a horse riding in a gig.

A pony mare belonging to Mr. Evans, of Montgomeryshire, England, had a colt, and they both grazed in a field adjoining the River Severn. One day, the pony made her appearance in front of the house, making a clattering with her feet, and other noises, to attract attention. Observing this, a person went out, and the pony immediately galloped off. Mr. Evans desired he should be followed. On reaching the field, the pony was found looking into the river, where the colt was drowned.

THE ASS.

When the ass is brought into comparison with the horse, in respect to external form, every thing appears to be in favor of the latter animal. The ass is inferior to the horse in size, less sprightly in its motions, its head is heavy, and it stoops in its gait. The horse generally moves with its head erect, looks freely abroad on the skies and earth, with an eye expressive of lively emotions. The ass is seen trudging slowly along, as if sensible of the hopelessness of a cessation from toil; and, full of melancholy thoughts, its leaden eye is fixed on the ground. Yet its shape and its habits, in its state of servitude, present something that is pleasing, though, on the whole, they are somewhat untoward and ungainly.

Miscellaneous Anecdotes.—The ass is far from being incapable of understanding the nature of the employments in which he is engaged, or disobedient to the commands of his master. An ass was employed, at Carisbrook, in the Isle of Wight, in drawing water by a large wheel from a deep well, supposed to have been sunk by the Romans. When his keeper wanted water, he would call the ass by his name, saying, "I want water; get into the wheel;" which wish the ass immediately complied with; and there can be no doubt but that he knew the precise number of times necessary for the wheel to revolve upon its axis in order to complete his labor; for every time he brought the bucket to the surface of the well, he stopped and turned round his head to observe the moment when his master laid hold of the bucket to draw it towards him, because he had then a nice motion to make either slightly forward or backward, as the situation of the bucket might require.

In 1816, an ass belonging to Captain Dundas was shipped on board the Ister, bound from Gibraltar to Malta. The vessel struck on a sand-bank off the Point de Gat, and the ass was thrown overboard into a sea which was so stormy that a boat that soon after left the ship was lost. In the course of a few days, when the gates of Gibraltar were opened in the morning, the guard was surprised by the same ass, which had so recently been removed, presenting itself for admittance. On entering, it proceeded immediately to the stable which it had formerly occupied. The ass had not only swam to the shore, but found its own way from Point de Gat to Gibraltar, a distance of more than two hundred miles, through a mountainous and intricate country intersected by streams, which it had never passed before, but which it had now crossed so expeditiously that it must have gone by a route leading the most directly to Gibraltar.

A few years ago, at Swalwell, England, a man set his bull-dog to attack an ass, that for a while gallantly defended itself with its heels, which it was agile enough to keep presented to the dog. Suddenly turning round on its adversary, it caught it with its teeth, in such a manner that the dog was unable to retaliate. It then dragged the assailant to the River Derwent, into which it plunged it overhead, and lying down upon it, kept it in the water till it was drowned.

Though the ass is frequently the subject of ill treatment, yet it seems to be an animal not without affection for its master, which in many cases we may suppose to be returned by kindness and care on his part. A pleasing instance to this effect we have in the following anecdote: "An old man, who some time ago sold vegetables in London, had an ass which carried his baskets from door to door. He frequently gave the poor industrious creature a handful of hay, or some pieces of bread or greens, by way of refreshment and reward. The old man had no need of any goad for the animal, and seldom, indeed, had he to lift up his hand to drive it on. His kind treatment was one day remarked to him, and he was asked whether the beast was not apt to be stubborn. 'Ah!' he said, 'it is of no use to be cruel; and as for stubbornness, I cannot complain, for he is ready to do any thing or go any where. I bred him myself. He is sometimes skittish and playful, and once ran away from me: you will hardly believe it, but there were more than fifty people after him, attempting in vain to stop him; yet he turned back of himself, and never stopped till he ran his head kindly into my bosom.'"

The following is a pleasing anecdote of the sagacity of the ass, and the attachment displayed by the animal to his master. Thomas Brown travelled in England as a pedler, having an ass the partner of his trade. From suffering under paralysis, he was in the habit of assisting himself on the road by keeping hold of the crupper of the saddle, or more frequently the tail of the ass. During a severe winter some years ago, whilst on one of his journeys, the old man and his ass were suddenly plunged into a wreath of snow. There they lay far from help, and ready to perish.

At last, after a severe struggle, the poor ass got out; but, finding his unfortunate master absent, he eyed the snow-bank some time with a wistful look, and at last forced his way through it to where his master lay, when, placing his body in such a position as to allow him to lay a firm hold on his tail, the honest pedler was enabled to grasp it, and was actually dragged out by the faithful beast to a place of safety!

THE ZEBRA.

The zebra possesses some of the characteristics of the horse;—smaller in size, it strongly resembles it in the shape of its body, its head, its limbs, and its hoofs. It moves in the same paces, with a similar activity and swiftness. But it discovers none of that docility which has rendered the services of the horse so invaluable to man. On the contrary, it is proverbially untamable; it is ever the most wild even among those ferocious animals which are ranged in the menagerie, and it preserves in its countenance the resolute determination never to submit.

In the year 1803, General Dundas brought a female zebra from the Cape of Good Hope, which was deposited in the Tower, and there showed less than the usual impatience of subordination. The person who had accompanied her home, and attended her there, would sometimes spring on her back, and proceed thus for about two hundred yards, when she would become restive, and oblige him to dismount. She was very irritable, and would kick at her keeper. One day she seized him with her teeth, threw him down, and showed an intention to destroy him, which he disappointed by rapidly extricating himself. She generally kicked in all directions with her feet, and had a propensity to seize with her teeth whatever offended her. Strangers she would not allow to approach her, unless the keeper held her fast by the head, and even then she was very prone to kick.

The most docile zebra on record was burnt at the Lyceum, near Exeter 'Change. This animal allowed its keeper to use great familiarities with it,—to put children on its back, without discovering any resentment. On one occasion, a person rode it from the Lyceum to Pimlico. It had been bred in Portugal, and was the offspring of parents half reclaimed.

The zebra of the plain differs from the other species in having the ground color of the body white, the mane alternately striped with black and white, and the tail of a yellowish white. A specimen of this animal was a few years since in the Tower of London, where it was brought to a degree of tameness seldom reached by the other variety. It ran peaceably about the Tower, with a man by its side, whom it did not attempt to leave except for the purpose of breaking off to the canteen, where it was sometimes regaled with a glass of ale, a liquor for which it discovered a considerable fondness.

ORDER IX.

RUMINANTIA,

RUMINATING ANIMALS—THOSE THAT CHEW THE CUD.

THE CAMEL.

Of this quadruped there are two species, the dromedary, and the Bactrian camel, which has two hunches on the back. It has been used from the earliest ages, and is one of the most useful of all the animals over which the inhabitants of Asia and Africa have acquired dominion. These continents are intersected by vast tracts of burning sand, the seats of desolation and drought; but by means of the camel, the most dreary wastes are traversed. The camel's great strength, and astonishing powers of abstinence both from food and drink, render it truly invaluable in these inhospitable countries. Denon tells us that, in crossing the Arabian Desert, a single feed of beans is all their food for a day. Their usual meal is a few dates, or some small balls of barleymeal, or, occasionally, the dry and thorny plants they meet with, at remote intervals, during their progress across the desert. With these scanty meals, the contented creature will lie down to rest amid the scorching sands, without exhibiting either exhaustion or a desire for better fare. Well may the Arab call the camel "the ship of the desert!"

Mr. McFarlane says, "I have been told that the Arabs will kiss their camels, in gratitude and affection, after a journey across the deserts. I never saw the Turks, either of Asia Minor or Roumelia, carry their kindness so far as this; but I have frequently seen them pat their camels when the day's work was done, and talk to them on their journey, as if to cheer them. The camels appeared to me quite as sensible to favor and gentle treatment as is a well-bred horse. I have seen them curve and twist their long, lithe necks as their driver approached, and often put down their tranquil heads toward his shoulder. Near Smyrna, and at Magnesia and Sardes, I have occasionally seen a camel follow his master like a pet dog, and go down on his knees before him, as if inviting him to mount. I never saw a Turk ill-use the useful, gentle, amiable quadruped; but I have frequently seen him give it a portion of his own dinner, when, in unfavorable places, it had nothing but chopped straw to eat. I have sometimes seen the devidjis, on a hot day, or in passing a dry district, spirt a little water in the camels' nostrils; they pretend it refreshes them."

The same writer says that, upon his first camel adventure, he was so taken by surprise by the creature's singular rising behind, that he was thrown over his head, to the infinite amusement of the Turks, who were laughing at his inexperience. "I was made acquainted with this peculiarity of the animal's movement, in a striking manner, the first time I mounted a camel out of curiosity. I ought to have known better—and, indeed, did know better; but when he was about to rise, from old habits associated with the horse, I expected he would throw out his fore legs, and I threw myself forward accordingly—when up sprang his hind legs, and clean I went over his ears, to the great delight of the devidjis."

The following interesting story of the sufferings of a caravan, from thirst, is related by Burckhardt: "In the month of August, a small caravan prepared to set out from Berber to Daraou. They consisted of five merchants and about thirty slaves, with a proportionate number of camels. Afraid of the robber Naym, who at that time was in the habit of waylaying travellers about the wells of Nedjeym, and who had constant intelligence of the departure of every caravan from Berber, they determined to take a more easterly road, by the well of Owareyk. They had hired an Ababde guide, who conducted them in safety to that place, but who lost his way from thence northward, the route being little frequented. After five days' march in the mountains, their stock of water was exhausted, nor did they know where they were. They resolved, therefore, to direct their course towards the setting sun, hoping thus to reach the Nile. After experiencing two days' thirst, fifteen slaves and one of the merchants died: another of them, an Ababde, who had ten camels with him, thinking that the animals might know better than their masters where water was to be found, desired his comrades to tie him fast upon the saddle of his strongest camel, that he might not fall down from weakness; and thus he parted from them, permitting his camels to take their own way; but neither the man nor his camels were ever heard of afterwards. On the eighth day after leaving Owareyk, the survivors came in sight of the mountains of Shigre, which they immediately recognized; but their strength was quite exhausted, and neither men nor beasts were able to move any farther. Lying down under a rock, they sent two of their servants, with the two strongest remaining camels, in search of water. Before these two men could reach the mountain, one of them dropped off his camel, deprived of speech, and able only to move his hands to his comrade, as a sign that he desired to be left to his fate. The survivor then continued his route; but such was the effect of thirst upon him, that his eyes grew dim, and he lost the road, though he had often travelled over it before, and had been perfectly acquainted with it. Having wandered about for a long time, he alighted under the shade of a tree, and tied the camel to one of its branches; the beast, however, smelt the water, (as the Arabs express it,) and, wearied as it was, broke its halter, and set off galloping in the direction of the spring, which, as afterwards appeared, was at half an hour's distance. The man, well understanding the camel's action, endeavored to follow its footsteps, but could only move a few yards; he fell exhausted on the ground, and was about to breathe his last, when Providence led that way, from a neighboring encampment, a Bisharye Bedouin, who, by throwing water upon the man's face, restored him to his senses. They then went hastily together to the water, filled their skins, and, returning to the caravan, had the good fortune to find the sufferers still alive. The Bisharye received a slave for his trouble."

DEER.

Of this genus there are many species, as the elk, moose, stag, fallow-deer, reindeer, &c. They are characterized by timidity, a love of retirement in the solitudes of the forest, a general capacity for domestication, and great swiftness of foot.

The Moose.—In the immense forests of North America, this animal is hunted by the Indians with such relentless perseverance, that all its instincts are called forth for the preservation of its existence. Tanner tells us that, "in the most violent storm, when the wind, the thunder, and the falling timber, are making the loudest and most incessant roar, if a man, either with his foot or hand, breaks the smallest dry limb in the forest, the moose will hear it; and though he does not always run, he ceases eating, and gives all his attention to the sounds he may hear, and he does not relax this till after three or four hours of the keenest vigilance."

The American Elk.—This stately creature is easily domesticated, and will then come at the call of his master, follow him to a distance from home, and return with him quietly. Although of a gentle disposition, instances have occurred of its turning upon its pursuers. A wounded one was once known to turn and face a hunter in the woods of Canada; the man was found next day pounded to a jelly, his bones being broken to pieces; the deer, having exhausted its fury, was found dead by his side.

The Red Deer.—The stag is said to love music, and to show great delight at hearing any one sing. If a person happens to whistle, or call some one at a distance, the creature stops short, and gazes upon the stranger with a kind of silent admiration; and if he perceives neither fire-arms nor dogs, he slowly approaches him with apparent unconcern. He seems highly delighted with the sound of the shepherd's pipe. Playford says, "Travelling some years since, I met, on the road near Royston, a herd of about twenty bucks, following a bagpipe and violin. While the music continued, they proceeded; when it ceased, they all stood still."