AMES 1C 
 
 II 
 
EDUCAf IOH IIBR 
 
 V 
 

"The groves were God's first temples." 
 
NATURAL HISTORY READER 
 
 FOB SCHOOL AND HOME. 
 
 COMPILED AND ARRANGED BY 
 
 JAMES JOHOOTOT, 
 
 AUTHOR OP 
 
 "PRINCIPLES AND PRACTICE OF TEACHING," "A GEOGRAPHICAL READER,' 
 "COUNTRY SCHOOL-HOUSES," ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 
 
 1, 3, AND 5 BOND STREET. 
 1883. 
 
COPYRIGHT BY 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. 
 
 1883. 
 
 EDUCATION IIBB J 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 THE philosophy which underlies the art of reading may 
 be briefly stated. In the process of mental development 
 objects are observed, and the perceptive faculties are there- 
 by cultivated. In this way the mind comes in possession 
 of the bundles of related ideas which we term thoughts. 
 These thoughts seek expression, and in the endeavor to ex- 
 press, speech is cultivated. The form of speech is a matter 
 of imitation. A thought is expressed by a sentence, and 
 the child, in learning to speak, uses either fragmentary or 
 complete sentences. When sentences are written, the pro- 
 cess of obtaining and expressing the contained thought is 
 reading. 
 
 Under the old system, which, happily, is now rapidly 
 becoming obsolete, the mechanical pronunciation of the 
 words of a sentence in their proper order was called read- 
 ing ; but most improperly so, as the apprehension and ren- 
 dition of the thought, which constitute the very essence 
 of reading, formed no part of the process. The means were 
 mistaken for the end, and the true end was not reached. 
 In consequence of this mistaken notion, reading exercises, in 
 the schools where it prevailed, were dull, distasteful, and 
 unprofitable to the pupil, and monotonous and unpleasant 
 to the hearer. 
 
 The means employed in these schools were as vicious as 
 the theory adopted. The pupil was required to pronounce 
 
 M577CE9 
 
iv PREFACE. 
 
 words which he did not understand, a process not only 
 negatively barren and wasteful, but positively evil, as it en- 
 gendered the habit of regarding words as disassociated from 
 ideas. Again, he was required to attempt to read that 
 which was quite beyond his mental grasp, or which was so 
 foreign to his experience that, understanding being hope- 
 less, he ceased to try to understand, each successive lesson 
 more widely separating language and thought. The diet 
 of husks, unfortunately, was not confined to the prodigal 
 who had wasted his substance in riotous living. 
 
 Under the later system, the truth is recognized that the 
 object of all school exercises is to promote mental growth, 
 to which end ideas and thoughts are indispensable. Words, 
 like bank-notes, are regarded, not for their intrinsic, but 
 for their representative value. In so far as they clearly re- 
 veal the gold of thought, they may be taken for genuine coin, 
 but, failing in this, they are worthless counterfeits. The 
 kinds of ideas and thoughts are also a matter of serious 
 moment. In each stage of the mind's growth those only 
 should be used that will command the attention by the in- 
 terest excited, that will stimulate the reflective activities of 
 the mind, and that will incite to further observation and 
 investigation. 
 
 With these objects kept clearly in view, reading, and the 
 general acquisition of language, become secondary, and not 
 primary processes. They are incident to the general objects 
 of instruction. Reading matter is selected upon the same 
 principles as studies that which will interest, stimulate, 
 and incite. At every stage of growth it is such as will best 
 serve the present purposes of the mind, and, at the same 
 time, promote the next step in advance. The pupil reads 
 because he is anxious to know. His progress is rapid be- 
 cause he is interested. His manner of reading is correct, 
 because he understands the thought, and thought controls 
 the expression. 
 
PREFACE. v 
 
 The present work has been prepared as a companion to 
 the Geographical Reader, to furnish reading matter of this 
 desirable kind. Natural History, whether considered in its 
 relations to mental development or as furnishing the mind 
 with useful knowledge, can scarcely be overestimated. It 
 deals with life in all its varied forms, and from concrete 
 facts it rises to a consideration of those principles upon 
 which human existence depends. Its common facts are 
 such as come under the cognizance of every pupil, giving a 
 basis of personal observation which makes the treatment of 
 every department intelligible and of the greatest interest. 
 
 In selecting the articles, an endeavor has been made to 
 secure the interest which comes from variety. Care has 
 been taken also that the statements shall be scientifically 
 correct, though mere scientific abstracts have been avoided. 
 The poetry and general literature of natural history have 
 also received due consideration. In many of the articles it 
 will be found that the statements are clear and precise, 
 answering the demands of science, but at the same time are 
 crisp and sparkling, stimulating the imagination, and giv- 
 ing that nameless charm which appeals to the sense of beauty 
 and arouses the finer emotions and sentiments. In beauty 
 of literary form, and in variety of literary expression, the 
 work will be found fully equal to the reading books that 
 have an unlimited scope of subjects. 
 
 Another point has been kept in view. The old primal 
 animal instinct in man to hunt and killj necessary in savage 
 life, still persists, and is sufficiently strong without special 
 cultivation. At present the lower animals need no longer 
 be regarded as enemies to be destroyed, but rather as friends 
 to be cultivated, or as curious objects to be studied. Most 
 of the articles selected, it will be seen, are pervaded by a 
 strong humanitarian sentiment, which is felt as an under- 
 lying principle, and is all the more effective from not being 
 formally expressed. The tenderness and finer emotions 
 
vi PREFACE. 
 
 which come from the study and care of creatures inferior 
 to ourselves are elements essential to the highest character. 
 It will be seen that the general subjects follow each 
 other in an ascending series, conforming in the main to 
 scientific treatment. In each branch the topics relating to 
 home life are first presented, to the end that instruction 
 may be based upon experience, that greater interest may 
 be excited, and that the pupils may be led to make careful 
 and accurate observations a most necessary step in true 
 mental development. These details of life about home are 
 followed by a series of sketches, which, while exciting pres- 
 ent interest, have a tendency to produce a hunger that 
 only large reading and reflection will satisfy. 
 
 PRINCETON, N. J., March 3, 1883. 
 
INTRODUCTOEY. 
 
 To TEACHERS. Mechanical and unintelligent reading 
 is the great reproach of our schools at the present time. 
 In the process of instruction, whenever the attention is al- 
 most exclusively directed to words, such reading inevitably 
 results. The cause of the evil at once suggests the remedy : 
 make thought the primary object of attention, and regard 
 words as important only as containing the thought. When 
 the subject is intelligible and interesting, it takes full pos- 
 session of the mind, compelling the proper delivery. Pro- 
 ductive effort on the part of teachers will therefore be di- 
 rected to the end that the pupils clearly understand what 
 they read. 
 
 When pernicious habits are once formed, the task of the 
 teacher is a difficult one. He must not only teach the 
 right way, but he must eradicate the false notions, and 
 correct the consequent false practice. 'Of one thing, how- 
 ever, he may be sure : one factor indispensable to his suc- 
 cess is the use of reading matter which will interest the 
 pupils and thereby arouse mental activity. The greater the 
 interest, the more quickly will the best results be obtained. 
 
 The tones of reading usually should be those of com- 
 mon conversation. The general law in regard to reading 
 is that it should be like speech under similar circumstances. 
 When the pupil reads a sentence which he has used in ex- 
 
viii INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 pressing a thought, the delivery will conform to speech 
 with great exactness. When reading the thoughts of 
 others, this conformity will be in the exact ratio of the con- 
 formity of the thought and form of expression to the men- 
 tal habits of the reader. In impassioned reading, the in- 
 tense emotions need be indicated rather than acted, the 
 reading becoming speech moderated. Giving full weight 
 to all these modifying and exceptional circumstances, the 
 statement that "reading is speaking from the book" is 
 true. 
 
 In using this book, something more than mere reading 
 should be accomplished. It can be made instrumental in 
 development and training in many different ways. 
 
 First. At the close of each lesson the subject-matter 
 should be familiarly discussed in class, for the purpose of 
 ascertaining whether all the points are understood, and of 
 exciting a greater interest. Obscure points should be 
 cleared up by the teacher. 
 
 Second. If there are literary allusions, they should be 
 briefly noticed and explained, just enough to awaken curi- 
 osity, but not enough to satisfy it. A great mistake may 
 be made by dwelling too much upon mere accessories and 
 side-issues : the perspective is destroyed, the attention is 
 diverted from the main topic and dissipated on irrelevant 
 details, and continuity of thought is broken up. 
 
 Third. Immediately after the lesson, or the next day, 
 the pupils may be called upon to state orally the main 
 points. Care should be taken that thoughts, not lan- 
 guage, are reproduced. In this way accuracy and fluency 
 in speech are cultivated, and a test is made of both under- 
 standing and memory. 
 
 Fourth. Each topic and sub-topic may be made the 
 basis of a composition exercise. In the effort to reproduce, 
 the use of capitals, punctuation, and all the mechanics of 
 construction are mastered, and the practice tends to clear- 
 
INTRODUCTORY. ix 
 
 ness and precision in expression. By both the oral and the 
 written exercises another good results : the pupil incident- 
 ally and unconsciously learns the art of arrangement in 
 thought. This art may afterward be supplemented by the 
 science which gives the reason for the order. 
 
 Fifth. When the topics relating to familiar things are 
 read, let the pupil describe some similar thing, or relate 
 some incident bearing upon the subject, which has come 
 under his own observation or has been told him. Such an 
 exercise associates the school-lesson with personal experi- 
 ence, and produces that functional activity of the mind 
 which is one of the principal ends of education. 
 
 Sixth. Special topics suggested by the lesson may be 
 given out which will require careful observation, and some- 
 times investigation extending over considerable time. 
 Notes of results may be made, and the whole topic finally 
 presented in the form of a report. This trains the percep- 
 tion, and calls into active exercise all the higher faculties 
 of the mind. 
 
 Seventh. Attention may next be called to the litera- 
 ture of the subject, and books may be searched for further 
 information upon this and kindred topics. Items in news- 
 papers that touch upon the points under consideration 
 may be clipped and preserved, and magazines laid under 
 contribution. When the mind is awake and alert, it is sur- 
 prising how much valuable matter may be found that would 
 otherwise have escaped notice. 
 
 As resultants of such a course as is here pointed out, 
 pupils will become eager to pursue studies of which they 
 have obtained a smattering and in which they have taken so 
 much interest, and education will be rescued from the re- 
 proach of being a mere process of cramming words, or un- 
 related facts, and will become in fact what it is in name 
 the means by which all the functions of the mind are 
 aroused into healthful activity. 
 
X INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS. In many cases, for the purposes 
 of this work, it has been found necessary to abridge articles 
 as they originally appeared. Whenever the language of 
 the author has been preserved throughout, or when slight 
 changes, rendered necessary by the abridgment, only have 
 been made, the author's name has been appended to the 
 article. Where both language and arrangement have been 
 changed to a considerable extent, or when the facts from 
 different authorities have been made into a kind of mosaic, 
 no names in justice could be given. 
 
 It will be seen that several of the articles are credited 
 to the magazines from which they were selected ; in these 
 cases the names of the authors were not given. It must 
 not be thought, however, that our indebtedness to the maga- 
 zines is confined to the few selections directly ascribed to 
 them. A large majority of the articles in the book first 
 made their appearance in some one of the English or 
 American periodicals. Some of these have been collected 
 into books, forming an important part of the literature 
 of the subject, and some of them still remain waifs and 
 estrays. In this country the "Atlantic Monthly," "Har- 
 per's Magazine," and the "Century" have been the me- 
 diums through which much of the best literature of natu- 
 ral history has been given to the public. 
 
 Through the magazines, John Burroughs, at once sci- 
 entific observer and poet, first became known ; and we are 
 sure that the few beautiful extracts which we have made 
 from his essays will lead to a desire for a more general 
 perusal of the volumes which he has published ; and we 
 are equally sure that taste thus developed will be in the 
 direction of purity and refinement, both of thought and 
 diction. The faculty of understanding the language of 
 birds, which Oriental fancy in the Arabian tales ascribed to 
 magical art, seems to have been inborn with Mr. Burroughs, 
 and he, more than any other writer of the present day, may 
 
INTRODUCTORY. xi 
 
 be considered the accredited interpreter of the feathered 
 creation. 
 
 We are most largely indebted, however, to the " Popu- 
 lar Science Monthly " for the material used. Many of the 
 articles credited to different authors first appeared in its 
 pages, and the most valuable productions from the English 
 magazines were given to the American public through its 
 mediumship. That its articles are not confined to dry state- 
 ments of scientific facts is sufficiently attested by the ad- 
 mirable sketches from the pen of Rev. Samuel Lockwood. 
 This amateur observer has a poetic insight and a sense of 
 humor which invests every subject with which he deals 
 with a peculiar human interest. 
 
 While thus expressing our obligations, we would say 
 that in return we have endeavored to put good matter to 
 the best of uses that of instructing and inspiring the 
 voung. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 HOME PLANTS AND THEIR WA YS. PAGE 
 
 Prelude to the Forest Hymn Bryant. 1 
 
 The Pride of New England Atlantic Monthly. 2 
 
 How Plants Travel M. ScJiele De Vere. 6 
 
 Twining Plants Francis Darwin. 1 1 
 
 Hook-Climbers Francis Darwin. 15 
 
 The Hospitality of Plants M. Schele De Vere. 25 
 
 The Rhodora Emerson. 30 
 
 PART II. 
 STRANGE PLANTS AND THEIR WAYS. 
 
 The Builder's Tree of China World of Wonders. 31 
 
 The Scholar's Plant of Egypt World of Wonders. 32 
 
 A Migratory Rose Chambers' s Journal. 35 
 
 Refreshment-Trees 39 
 
 The Monarch of African Forests * Figuier. 42 
 
 The Sacred Tree of India 45 
 
 The Eucalyptus 48 
 
 The Sensitive-Plant Shelley. 52 
 
 PART III. 
 
 LOW LIFE IN THE SEA. 
 
 Animated Jellies World of Wonders. 54 
 
 Flowers of the Sea. . . .Rev. Samuel Lockwood. 57 
 
xiv CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Stars of the Sea 62 
 
 Builders in the Ocean 66 
 
 Corals, and How they are Studied Mrs. Elizabeth C. Agassiz. 70 
 
 The Coral Grove Percival. 76 
 
 Crabs and their Ways Rev. Samuel Lockwood. 78 
 
 Fiddlers upon the Shore Rev. Samuel Lockwood. 81 
 
 Sea-Hermits and their Homes . . Rev. Samuel Lockwood. 83 
 
 PART IV. 
 HIGHER LIFE IN WATERS. 
 
 The Devil-Fish and his Kin 86 
 
 Shooting and Angling Fishes Francis Francis. 91 
 
 Hunting-Fishes Francis Francis. 94 
 
 Fishes Armed with Lightning 97 
 
 PART V. 
 PIGMY WORKERS AND BUILDERS. 
 
 Ants : their Homes and Habits 101 
 
 The Aphides and their Keepers Rev. J. G. Wood. 105 
 
 Spinners of the Mulberry-Trees 109 
 
 Honey-Gatherers 113 
 
 The Bumblebee Emerson. 119 
 
 PART VI. 
 QUEER LITTLE FOLKS. 
 
 The Pit-Digger and its Victims T. W. Higginson. 122 
 
 How Mosquitoes Manage Reaumur. 123 
 
 Plant-Eating and Omnivorous Ants 128 
 
 Carnivorous and Agricultural Ants 132 
 
 The Praying Mantis Science Monthly. 137 
 
 The Katydid Holmes. 140 
 
 PART VII. 
 CURIOUS DWELLERS OF SWAMP AND FOREST. 
 
 The Monarch of the Swamp 142 
 
 Capture of a Cayman Charles Waierton. 148 
 
CONTENTS. xv 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Tussle with a Constrictor Charles Waterton. 152 
 
 Chameleons; their Habits and Color-Changes Science Monthly. 157 
 
 The Chameleon. . . .Merrick. 162 
 
 PART VIII. 
 
 OUR FOREST CHORISTERS. 
 
 Songsters of the Garden James Russell Lowell. 164 
 
 The Song of Birds /. Elliot Cabot. 172 
 
 Life and Song in the Woods John Burroughs. 177 
 
 Bird Life and Motion Atlantic Monthly. 183 
 
 Birds in Autumn Atlantic Monthly. 188 
 
 Robert of Lincoln Bryant. 190 
 
 The Mocking-Bird Alexander Wilson. 194 
 
 The Persevering Songster Boston. Traveler, 1851. 199 
 
 Bird-Notes White's Selborne. 201 
 
 Ode to the Sky-lark Shelley. 204 
 
 PART IX. 
 OTHER NEIGHBORS IN THE TREES. 
 
 Homes in the Woods John Burroughs. 207 
 
 Humming-Birds James H. Partridge. 211 
 
 My Aerial Visitor Atlantic Monthly. 215 
 
 Rare and Beautiful Nests John BurrougJis. 218 
 
 Bird-Ways Atlantic Monthly. 220 
 
 The Bank-Swallow Ernest Ingersoll. 225 
 
 Jays and their Mission Jared P. Kirtland. 229 
 
 Summary Justice Chambers^ Journal. 233 
 
 The Bird of Night Rev.' Samuel Lockwood. 236 
 
 The Owl-Critic James T. Fields. 240 
 
 PART X. 
 
 STRANGE BIRDS AND THEIR WA TS. 
 
 The Flamingo 244 
 
 Birds-of -Paradise James H. Partridge. 247 
 
 Talking Birds and their Ways N. S. Dodge. 252 
 
 The Apteryx 257 
 
xvi CONTENTS. 
 
 PAOE 
 
 The Stork Hermann Masius. 260 
 
 Three Views of the Eagle 265 
 
 PART XI. 
 UR FO UR-FO TED COMPANIONS. 
 
 The Pet of the Household /. W. De Forest. 271 
 
 Our Canine Servants Chambers' s Journal. 275 
 
 Conscience in Animals G. J. Romanes. 283 
 
 Puss with a Mission J. W. De Forest. 288 
 
 Canine Justice Chambers^ Journal. 289 
 
 Helping a Friend Chambers^ Journal. 292 
 
 Pierrot the Faithful Arsene Homsaye. 293 
 
 Emotional Expression diaries Darwin. 298 
 
 To Flush, my Dog Mrs. Browning. 303 
 
 PART XII. 
 OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 
 
 How Rats Manage T. W. Higginson. 306 
 
 The Chipmunk at Home Charles C. Abbott. 310 
 
 An Excavator John BurrougJis. 314 
 
 Forest Engineers T. W. Higginson 316 
 
 Elephants, and how they are Caught T. W. Higginson. 321 
 
 The Force of Instinct Mss Cooper. 327 
 
 Curious Friendships Chambers^ Journal. 330 
 
 The Lion and the Spaniel Henry Brooke. 336 
 
 Home Life of Scottish Deer Charles Edward Stuart. 338 
 
 Deer-Stalking in the Scottish Highlands Charles Edward Stuart. 343 
 
 PART XIII. 
 
 STRANGE ANIMALS AND THEIR WATS. 
 
 Musical Mice Rev. Samuel Lockwood. 352 
 
 Bats and their Habits Prof. Burt G. Wilder. 355 
 
 The Lemming and its Migrations Temple Bar. 358 
 
 The Coati Mondi Rev. Samuel Lockwood. 362 
 
 Jemmy Frank Buckland. 369 
 
CONTENTS. xvii 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Aard-vark From the French of Oustalet. 374 
 
 The Ornithorhynchus 377 
 
 Grizzly Bret ffarte. 380 
 
 PAET XIV. 
 
 FOUR-HANDED FOLKS. 
 
 House-Pets in Trinidad Charles Kingsley. 381 
 
 The Living Bridge Adventures in the Tropics. 384 
 
 Jacko Frank Auckland. 387 
 
 PART XV. 
 ADVENTURES AND INCIDENTS. 
 
 Our Hunting- Lodge and Neighbors Charles Edward Stuart. 394 
 
 The Sloth Charles Waterton. 401 
 
 Illustrative Stories 407 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 "THE GROVES WERE GOD'S FIRST TEMPLES." (Frontispiece.') 
 
 CLASPING LEAVES . . . . . .17 
 
 TENDRIL HOOKS . . . . . . . 18 
 
 TENDRIL COIL ........ 21 
 
 COIL AND DISK ....... 22 
 
 THE PAPYRUS ....... 34 
 
 THE ROSE OF JERICHO . . . . ... 36 
 
 THE TRAVELER'S TREE . . . . . .40 
 
 THE BAOBAB-TREE ...... 43 
 
 THE BANYAN-TREE ....... 46 
 
 THE MEDUSA ....... 55 
 
 SEA-ANEMONES ........ 59 
 
 UPPER AND UNDER VIEW OF STAR-FISH .... 63 
 
 SERPENT STAR-FISH ....... 65 
 
 CORAL MADREPORE . . . . . . 67 
 
 AN ATOLL . . . . * . . .69 
 
 CORAL PORITE . . . .... 73 
 
 EDIBLE CRAB ........ 79 
 
 FIDDLER-CRAB ....... 82 
 
 HERMIT-CRAB . . . . . . . .84 
 
 THE OCTOPUS ....... 87 
 
 OCTOPUS RUNNING . . . . ... .88 
 
 THE ANGLER-FISH ...... 92 
 
 THE TORPEDO . 99 
 
xx LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE SILK-WORM ....... Ill 
 
 MOSQUITOES . . . . . . . .125 
 
 WARRIOR TERMITES . . . . . . 130 
 
 THE PRAYING MANTIS . . . . . .138 
 
 ALLIGATORS IN FLORIDA SWAMP . ... 144 
 
 THE NILE CROCODILE . . . . . . .146 
 
 THE CHAMELEON . . . . . . . 158 
 
 A FOREST WARBLER . . . . . . .179 
 
 BOBOLINK ....... 192 
 
 HUMMING-BlRDS . . . . . . .216 
 
 BANK-SWALLOWS AND THEIR NESTS . . ... 226 
 
 A GROUP OF OWLS . . > . . . 238 
 
 FLAMINGO AND NEST . . , . . . 245 
 
 BIRD OF PARADISE . . ' "... . . . . 249 
 
 THE APTERYX . ... ... . . . ' 258 
 
 THE STORK ... / . . .261 
 
 THE EAGLE . . ^ . . . ' . 266 
 
 PIERROT THE FAITHFUL . . . . . . 295 
 
 A FIERCE DOG .... ,-. . . 299 
 
 AN AFFECTIONATE DOG . . . . . . 300 
 
 A CAT, SAVAGE, AND READY TO FIGHT . . . . 302 
 
 AN AFFECTIONATE CAT . ... . . 303 
 
 AMERICAN CHIPMUNK . , , . . . 311 
 
 BEAVER DAM ... . . . . . .317 
 
 THE STAG . *-.:". . . . . 349 
 
 THE LEMMING, OR NORWAY RAT ..... 359 
 
 COATI-MONDI . . . . . 364 
 
 COATI-MONDI ASLEEP . . . . . . .365 
 
 THE SURICATE (JEMMY) . . . . . . 370 
 
 THE AARD-VARK . . . . . . 376 
 
 THE ORNITHORHYNCHUS ...... 378 
 
NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 PART I. 
 HOME PLANTS AND THEIR WAYS. 
 
 PRELUDE TO "A FOREST HYMN." 
 
 1. THE groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned 
 To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, 
 
 And spread the roof above them, ere he framed 
 The lofty vault, to gather and roll back 
 The sound of anthems ; in the darkling wood, 
 Amid the cool and silence, he knelt down, 
 And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks 
 And supplication. 
 
 2. For his simple heart 
 Might not resist the sacred influences 
 Which, from the stilly twilight of the place, 
 
 And from the gray old trunks that high in heaven 
 Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound 
 Of the invisible breath that swayed at once 
 All their green tops, stole over him, and bowed 
 His spirit with the thought of boundless power 
 And inaccessible majesty. 
 
2 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 3. Ah, why 
 
 Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect 
 
 God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore 
 
 Only among the crowd, and under roofs 
 
 That our frail hands have raised ? Let me, at least, 
 
 Here, in the shadow of this aged wood, 
 
 Offer one hymn thrice happy, if it find 
 
 Acceptance in His ear. 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 THE PRIDE OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 1. ABOVE all the trees of the New World, the elm de- 
 serves to be considered the sovereign tree of New England. 
 It is abundant both in field and forest, and forms the most 
 remarkable feature in our cleared and cultivated grounds. 
 Though the elm is found in almost all parts of the coun- 
 try, in no other is it so conspicuous as in the Northeastern 
 States, where, from the earliest settlement of the country, 
 it has been planted as a shade- tree, and has been valued as 
 an ornament above the proudest importations from a foreign 
 clime. It is the most remarkable of the drooping trees ex- 
 cept the willow, which it surpasses in stateliness and in the 
 variety of its growth. 
 
 2. When I look upon a noble elm, though I feel no dis- 
 position to condemn the studies of those who examine its 
 flowers and fruit with the scrutinizing eye of science, or the 
 calculations of those who consider only its practical use, it 
 is to me an object of pleasing veneration. I look upon it 
 as the embodiment of some benign intention of Providence, 
 who has adapted it in numerous ways to the wants of his 
 creatures. While admiring its grace and majesty, I think 
 of the great amount of human happiness and of comfort to 
 the inferior animals of which it has been the blessed in- 
 
HOME PLANTS AND THEIR WA YS. 3 
 
 strument. How many a happy assemblage of children and 
 young persons has been, during the past century, repeated- 
 ly gathered under its shade in the sultry noons of summer ! 
 How many a young May-Queen has been crowned under its 
 roof, when the greensward was just daisied with the early 
 flowers of spring ! And how many a weary traveler has 
 rested from his journey in its benevolent shade, and, from 
 a state of weariness and vexation, when o'erspent by heat 
 and length of way, has subsided into one of quiet thank- 
 fulness and content ! 
 
 3. Though the elm has never been consecrated by the 
 Muse, or dignified by making a figure in the paintings of 
 the old masters, the native inhabitant of New England 
 associates its varied forms with all that is delightful in 
 the scenery of his own land, or memorable in its history. 
 He has beheld many a noble avenue formed of elms, when 
 standing in rows in the village, or by the rustic road-side. 
 He has seen them extending their broad and benevolent 
 arms as a protection over many a spacious old farm-house 
 and many an humble cottage, and equally harmonizing 
 with all. They meet his sight in the public grounds of 
 the city, with their ample shade and flowing spray, invit- 
 ing him to linger under their pleasant umbrage in sum- 
 mer ; and in winter he has beheld them among the rude 
 hills and mountains, like spectral figures keeping sentry 
 among their passes, and, on the waking of the year, sud- 
 denly transformed into towers of luxuriant verdure and 
 beauty. Every year of his life has he seen the beautiful 
 hang-bird weave his pensile habitation upon the long and 
 flexible branches of the elm, secure from the reach of 
 every living creature. From its vast dome of interwoven 
 branches and foliage he has listened to the songs of the 
 earliest and latest birds ; and under its shelter he has 
 witnessed many a merry-making assemblage of children, 
 employed in the sportive games of summer. 
 
4 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 4. To a native of New England, therefore, the elm 
 has a value more nearly approaching that of sacredness 
 than any other tree. Setting aside the pleasure derived 
 from it as an object of visual heauty, it is intimately asso- 
 ciated with the familiar scenes of home and the events of 
 his early life. In my own mind it is pleasingly allied with 
 those old dwelling-houses which were built in the early 
 part of the last century, and form one of the marked feat- 
 ures of New England home architecture during that pe- 
 riod. They are known by their broad and ample, but low- 
 studded rooms, their numerous windows with small panes, 
 their single chimney in the center of the roof, that sloped 
 down to the lower story in the back part, and, in their 
 general unpretending appearance, reminding one vividly of 
 that simplicity of life~Tvhich characterized our people be- 
 fore the revolution. Their very homeliness is delightful, 
 by leaving the imagination free to dwell upon their pleas- 
 ing suggestions. Not many of these charming old houses 
 are now extant ; but whenever we see one, we are almost 
 sure to find it accompanied by its elm, standing upon the 
 green open space that slopes up to it in front, and wav- 
 ing its long branches in melancholy grandeur over the ven- 
 erable habitation which it seems to have taken under its 
 protection, while it droops with sorrow over the infirmi- 
 ties of its old companion of a century. 
 
 5. The elm is remarkable for the variety of forms which 
 it assumes in different situations. Often it has a droop- 
 ing spray only when it has attained a large size ; but it 
 almost invariably becomes subdivided into several equal 
 branches, diverging from a common center, at a consid- 
 erable elevation from the ground. One of these forms is 
 that of a vase, the base being represented by the roots of 
 the tree that project above the soil and join the trunk, 
 the middle by the lower part of the principal branches, as 
 they swell out with a graceful curve, then gradually di- 
 
HOME PLANTS AND THEIR WAYS. 5 
 
 verge, until they bend downward and form the lip of the 
 vase by their circle of terminal branches. Another of its 
 forms is that of a vast dome, as represented by those trees 
 that send up a single shaft to the height of twenty feet or 
 more, and then extend their branches at a wide divergency, 
 and to a great length. The elms which are remarkable for 
 their drooping character are usually of this shape. 
 
 6. At other times the elm assumes the shape of a plume, 
 presenting a singularly fantastical appearance. It rises up- 
 ward, with an undivided shaft, to the height of fifty feet or 
 more, without a limb, and bending over with a gradual 
 curve from about the middle of its height to its summit, 
 which is sometimes divided into two or three terminal 
 branches. The whole is covered, from its roots to its sum- 
 mit, with a fringe of vine-like twigs, extremely slender, 
 twisted, and irregular, and resembling a parasitic growth. 
 Sometimes it is subdivided at the usual height into three or 
 four long branches, which are wreathed in the same man- 
 ner, and form a compound plume. 
 
 7. Unlike other trees that send up a single undivided 
 shaft, the elm, when growing in the forest, as well as in the 
 open plain, becomes subdivided into several slightly diver- 
 gent branches, running up almost perpendicularly until 
 they reach the level of the tree-tops, when they suddenly 
 spread themselves out, and the tree exhibits the parasol 
 shape more nearly even than the palm. When one of these 
 forest elms is left by the woodman, arid is seen standing 
 alone in the clearing, it presents to our sight one of the 
 most graceful and beautiful of all arborescent forms. 
 
 Atlantic MontUy. 
 
NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 HOW PLANTS TRAVEL 
 
 1. PLANTS have both life and motion ; we dare not as 
 yet say whether it be the effect of a mere dream, of a me- 
 chanical pressure from without, or of instinctive life with- 
 in. For what do we as yet know of the simplest functions 
 of the inner life of plants ? Who has not, however, ob- 
 served how the pale sap courses through the colossal stems 
 of gigantic trees and the delicate veins of a frail leaf, as 
 rapidly and marvelously as through the body of man ? 
 Take a microscope, and you will see the plant full of life 
 and motion. All its minute cells are filled with countless 
 little currents, now rotary and now up and down, often 
 even apparently lawless, but always distinctly marked by 
 tiny grains which are seen to turn in them or to rise with- 
 out ceasing. 
 
 2. But plants move not only where they stand, they 
 travel also. They migrate from land to land, sometimes 
 slowly, inch by inch, then again on the wings of the storm. 
 Botanists tell us of actual migrations of plants, and a suc- 
 cessive extension of the domain of particular floras, just as 
 we speak of the migration of idioms and races. Individual 
 plants, however, travel only as man ought to travel, when 
 they are young. If they have once found a home, they 
 settle quietly down, grow, blossom, and bear fruit. There- 
 fore it is that plants travel only in the seed. For this pur- 
 pose, seeds possess often special organs for a long journey 
 through the air. 
 
 3. Sometimes they are put, like small bomb-shells, into 
 little mortars, and fired off with great precision. Thus 
 arise the well-known emerald rings on our greenswards, and 
 on the vast prairies of the West, which some ascribe to elec- 
 tricity, while the poet loves to see in them traces of the 
 moonlight revels of fairies. The truth is scarcely less po- 
 
HOME PLANTS AND THEIR WA Y8. 7 
 
 etical. A small circular fungus squats down on a nice bit 
 of turf ; it prospers, and fills with ripening seed ; when it 
 matures, it discharges the tiny balls already mentioned in 
 a circle all around, and then sinks quietly in the ground 
 and dies. Another season, and its place is marked by an 
 abundance of luxuriant grass, feeding upon its remains, 
 while around it a whole ring of young fungi have begun to 
 flourish. They die in their turn, and so the circle goes on 
 enlarging and enlarging, shifting rapidly, because the fungi 
 exhaust the soil soon of all matter necessary for their 
 growth, and closely followed by the rich grass that fills up 
 their place and prevents them from ever retracing their 
 steps. 
 
 4. A similar irritability enables other plants also to scat- 
 ter their seeds far and near, by means of springs bent back, 
 until a breath of wind, a falling leaf, or the wing of an in- 
 sect, causes them to rebound, and thus to send the pollen 
 with which they are loaded often to a great distance. The 
 so-called touch-me-not balsam scatters its ripe seeds, by 
 such a contrivance, in all directions, and the squirting cu- 
 cumber is furnished, for the same purpose, with a complete 
 fire-engine. Some of the geraniums, also, of our green- 
 houses have their fruit-vessels so curiously constructed 
 that the mere contact with another object, and frequently 
 the heat of the sun alone, suffices to detach the carpels, one 
 by one, with a snapping sound, and so suddenly as to cause 
 a considerable jerk, which sends the seeds far away. 
 
 5. Other fruit-vessels, again, have, as is well known, 
 contrivances the most curious and ingenious by which 
 they press every living thing that comes near them into 
 their service, and make it convey them whithersoever they 
 please. Everybody is familiar with the bearded varieties 
 of wheat and other grain ; they are provided with the little 
 hooks which they cunningly insert into the wool or hair of 
 grazing cattle, and thus they are carried about until they 
 
8 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 find a pleasant place for their future home. Some, who do 
 not like to obtain services thus by hook and crook, succeed 
 by pretended friendship, sticking closely to their self -chosen 
 companions. They cover their little seeds with a most ad- 
 hesive glue, and when the busy bee comes to gather honey 
 from their sweet blossoms, which they jauntily hang out to 
 catch the unwary insect, the seeds adhere to its body, and 
 travel thus on four fine wings through the wide, wide 
 world. Bee-fanciers know very well the common disease 
 of their sweet friends, when so much pollen adheres to their 
 head that they can not fly, and most miserably perish, one 
 by one, under the heavy burden which these innocent-look- 
 ing plants have compelled them to carry. 
 
 6. We have but little knowledge as yet of the activity 
 of life in the vegetable world, and of its momentous influ- 
 ence on the welfare of our own race. Few only know that 
 the gall-fly of Asia Minor decides on the existence of ten 
 thousands of human beings. As our clippers and steamers 
 carry the produce of the land from continent to continent, 
 so these tiny sailors of the air perform, under the direction 
 of Divine Providence, the important duty of carrying pol- 
 len, or fertilizing dust, from fig-tree to fig-tree. Without 
 pollen there come no figs ; and, consequently, on their ac- 
 tivity and number depend the productiveness of these 
 trees; they therefore regulate, in fact, the extensive and 
 profitable fig trade of Smyrna. 
 
 7. When neither quadruped nor insect can be coaxed or 
 forced to transport the young seeds that. wish to see the 
 world, they sometimes launch forth on their own account, 
 and trust to a gentle breeze or a light current of air rising 
 from the heated surface of the earth. It is true, nature 
 has given them wings to fly with, such as man never yet 
 was skillful enough to devise for his own use. The maple 
 our maple, I mean has genuine little wings with which 
 it flies merrily about in its early days ; others, like the dan- 
 
HOME PLANTS AND THEIR WATS. 9 
 
 delion and the anemone, have light downy appendages, or 
 little feathery tufts and crowns, by which they are floated 
 along on the lightest breath of air, and enjoy, to their 
 hearts' content, long autumnal wanderings. These airy ap- 
 pendages are marvelously well adapted for the special pur- 
 pose of each plant some but just large enough to waft the 
 tiny grain up the height of a mole-hill, others strong enough 
 to carry the seed of the cedar from the low valley to the 
 summit of Mount Lebanon. 
 
 8. The proudest princes of the vegetable kingdom often 
 depend for their continuance on these little feathery tufts, 
 which but few observers are apt to notice. A recent writer 
 tells us that, a few years ago, the only palm-tree the city 
 of Paris could then boast of suddenly bore fruit. Botan- 
 ists were at a loss how to explain the apparent miracle, and 
 skeptics began to sneer, and declared that the laws of na- 
 ture had failed. An advertisement appeared in the papers, 
 inquiring for the unknown mate of the solitary tree. And 
 behold, in an obscure court-yard away off, there had lived, 
 unknown and unnoticed, another small palm ; it also had 
 blossomed apparently alone, and in vain but a gentle 
 breeze had come, and carried its flower-dust to its distant 
 companion, and the first palm-fruit ever seen in France 
 was the result of this silent mediation. 
 
 9. Reckless wanderers, also, there are among the plants, 
 who waste their substance, and wildly rove about the world. 
 The rose of Jericho, and a club-moss of "Peru, are such er- 
 ratic idlers that wander from land to land. When they 
 have blossomed and borne fruit, and when the dry season 
 comes, they wither, fold their leaves together, and draw up 
 their roots, so as to form a light, little ball. In this form 
 they are driven hither and thither on the wings of the wind, 
 rolling along the plains in spirit-like dance, now whirling 
 in great circles about, now caught by an eddy and rising 
 suddenly high into the air. It is not until they reach a moist 
 
10 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 place that they care to rest awhile, but then they settle 
 down at once, send down their roots, unfold their leaves, 
 assume a bright green, and become quiet, useful citizens in 
 their own great kingdom of plants. 
 
 10. Seeds that have not learned to fly with their own or 
 other people's wings, it seems are taught to swim. Trees 
 and bushes which bear nuts love low grounds and river- 
 banks. Why ? Because their fruit is shaped like a small 
 boat, and the rivulet, playing with its tiny ripples over sil- 
 ver sands, as well as the broad wave of the Pacific, carry 
 their seed alike, safely and swiftly, to new homes. Rivers 
 float down the fruits of mountain regions into deep valleys 
 and to far-off coasts, and the Gulf Stream of our Atlantic 
 carries annually the rich products of the torrid zone of 
 America to the distant shores of Iceland and Norway. 
 Seeds of plants growing in Jamaica and Cuba have been 
 gathered in the quiet coves of the Hebrides. 
 
 11. But we need not go to far-off countries to see plants 
 wandering about in the world : our own gardens afford us, 
 though on a smaller scale, many an instance of the reckless- 
 ness of those very plants that are so much commiserated 
 because they can not move about and choose their own home. 
 Every casual observer even knows that many bulbs, like 
 those of crocus, tulips, or narcissus, rise or sink by form- 
 ing new bulbs above or below, until they have reached 
 the proper depth of soil which best suits their constitution 
 or perhaps their fancy. Some orchids have a regular 
 locomotion : the old root dies, the new one forms invaria- 
 bly in one and the same direction, and thus they proceed 
 onward year after year, though at a very modest, stage- 
 coach rate. Strawberries, on the contrary, put on seven- 
 league boots, and often escape from the rich man's garden 
 to refresh the weary traveler by the wayside. Raspberries, 
 again, mine their way stealthily under ground by a sub- 
 terranean, mole-like process ; blind but not unguided, for 
 
HOME PLANTS AND THEIR WAYS. H 
 
 they are sure to turn up in the brightest, sunniest spot 
 they could have chosen had their eyes been wide open and 
 their proceedings above ground. 
 
 M. Schele de Vere. 
 
 TWINING PLANTS. 
 
 1. CLIMBING plants are, first of all, divided roughly 
 into those which twine and those which do not twine ; 
 twiners are represented by the hop and the honeysuckle, 
 and all those plants which climb up a stick by winding 
 spirally round it. Those which are not twiners that is, 
 which do not wind spirally round a stick are such as sup- 
 port themselves by seizing hold of any neighboring object 
 with various kinds of grasping organs ; these may be simple 
 hooks, or adhering roots, or they may be elaborate and sen- 
 sitive tendrils, which seize hold of a stick with a rapidity 
 more like the action of an animal than of a plant. I wish 
 now to insist on the importance of distinguishing between 
 these two methods of climbing, in one of which the plant 
 ascends a support by traveling spirally round it ; in the 
 other, fixes on to the support by seizing it at one place, and 
 continuing to seize it higher and higher up as its stem in- 
 creases in length. 
 
 2. I have heard the curator of a foreign botanic garden 
 bitterly complain of his gardeners that 'they never could 
 learn the difference between these two classes of climbing 
 plants, and that they would only give a few bare sticks to 
 some tendril-bearing plant, expecting it to twine up them 
 like a hop, while the plant really wanted a twiggy branch, 
 up which it might creep, seizing a twig with each of its 
 delicate tendrils, as it climbed higher and higher. These 
 two kinds of climbers twiners and non-twiners may be 
 seen growing up their appropriate supports in any kitchen- 
 
12 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 garden, where the scarlet-runners twine spirally up tall 
 sticks, while the peas clamber up the bushy branches stuck 
 in rows in the ground. 
 
 3. A hop-plant will supply a good example of the mode 
 of growth of true twining plants. Let us imagine that we 
 have a young hop-plant growing in a pot ; we will suppose 
 that it has no stick to twine up, and that its pot stands in 
 some open place where there are no other plants to interfere 
 with it. A long, thin shoot will grow out, and, not being 
 strong enough to support itself in the upright position, will 
 bend over to one side. So far we have not discovered any- 
 thing remarkable about our hop ; it has sent out a strag- 
 gling shoot, which has behaved as might be expected, by 
 falling over to one side. But now, if we watch the hop- 
 plant closely, a very remarkable thing will be seen to take 
 place. 
 
 4. Supposing that we have noticed the shoot, when it 
 began to bend over, pointed toward the window say a 
 north window and that, when we next look at it after 
 some hours, it points into the room, that is to say, south, 
 and again north after another interval, we shall have dis- 
 covered the curious fact that the hop-plant has a certain 
 power of movement by which its shoot may sometimes 
 point in one direction, sometimes in another. But this is 
 only half the phenomenon, and, if we examine closely, we 
 shall find that the movement is constant and regular, the 
 stem first pointing north, then east, then south, then west, 
 in regular succession, so that its tip is constantly traveling 
 round and round like the hand of a watch, making on an 
 average, in warm August weather, one revolution in two 
 hours. Here, then, is a most curious power possessed by 
 the shoots of twining plants, which is worth inquiring fur- 
 ther into, both as regards the way in which the movement 
 is produced, and as to how it can be of any service to the 
 plant. 
 
HOME PLANTS AND THEIR WAYS. 13 
 
 5. Questions are often asked in gardening periodicals as 
 to how hops or other climbing plants always manage to 
 grow precisely in the direction in which they will find a 
 support. This fact has surprised many observers, who 
 have supposed that climbing plants have some occult sense 
 by which they discover the whereabouts of the stick up 
 which they subsequently climb. But there is in reality no 
 kind of mystery in the matter : the growing shoot simply 
 goes swinging round till it meets with a stick, and then it 
 climbs up it. Now, a revolving shoot may be more than 
 two feet long, so that it might be detained in its swinging- 
 round movements by a stick fixed into the ground at a dis- 
 tance of nearly two feet. There would then be a straight 
 bit of stem leading from the roots of the plant in a straight 
 line to the stick up which it twines, so that an observer 
 who knew nothing of the swinging -round movement might 
 be pardoned for supposing that the plant had in some way 
 perceived the stick and grown straight at it. This same 
 power of swinging round slowly comes into play in the very 
 act of climbing up a stick. 
 
 6. Suppose I take a rope and swing it round my head : 
 that may be taken to represent the revolving of the young 
 hop-shoot. If, now, I allow it to strike against a rod, the 
 end of the rope which projects beyond the rod curls freely 
 round it in a spiral. And this may be taken as a rough 
 representation of what a climbing plant does when it meets 
 a stick placed in its way. That is to say, the part of the 
 shoot which projects beyond the stick continues to curl in- 
 ward till it comes against the stick ; and, as growth goes 
 on, the piece of stem which is projecting is, of course, all 
 the while getting longer and longer ; and, as it is continu- 
 ally trying to keep up the swinging-round movement, it 
 manages to curl round the stick. But there is a difference 
 between the rope and the plant in this that the rope curls 
 round the stick at the same level as that at which it is 
 
14 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 swung, so that, if it moves round in a horizontal plane at 
 aimiform height above ground, it will curl round the stick 
 at that level, and thus will not climb up the stick it strikes 
 against. But the climbing plant, although it may swing 
 round, when searching for a stick, at a fairly uniform level, 
 yet, when it curls round a stick, does not retain a uniform 
 distance from the ground, but by winding round like a 
 corkscrew it gets higher and higher at each turn. 
 
 7. As plants have no muscles, all their movements are 
 produced by unequal growth ; that is, by one half of an 
 organ growing in length quicker than the opposite half. 
 Now, the difference between the growth of a twining plant 
 which bends over to one side and an ordinary plant which 
 grows straight up in the air lies in this, that in the upright 
 shoot the growth is nearly equal on all sides at once, where- 
 as the twining plant is always growing much quicker on 
 one side than the other. 
 
 8. It may be shown by means of a simple model how 
 unequal growth can be converted into revolving movement. 
 The stem of a young hop is represented by a flexible rod, of 
 which the lower end is fixed, the upper one being free to 
 move. At first the rod is supposed to be growing vertically 
 upward, but when it begins to twine one side begins to 
 grow quicker than any of the others : suppose the right 
 side to do so, the result will be that the rod will bend over 
 toward the left side. Now, let the region of quickest 
 growth change, and let the left side begin to grow quicker 
 than all the others, then the rod will be forced to bend back 
 over to the other side. Thus, by an alternation of growth, 
 the rod will bend backward and forward from right to left. 
 
 9. But now imagine that the growth of the rod on the 
 sides nearest to and farthest from us enters into the com- 
 bination, and that, after the right side has been growing 
 quickest for a time, the far side takes it up, then the rod 
 will not bend straight back toward the right, as it did be- 
 
HOME PLANTS AND THEIR WAYS. 15 
 
 fore, but will bend to the near side. Now the old move- 
 ment, caused by the left side growing quickest, will come 
 in again, to be followed by the near side growing quick- 
 est. Thus, by a regular succession of growth on all the 
 sides, one after another, the swinging-round movement is 
 produced, and by a continuation of this action, as I have 
 explained, the twining movement is produced. 
 
 10. I have spoken as if the question of how plants twine 
 were a completely solved problem, and in a certain sense it 
 is so. I think that the explanation which I have given will 
 remain as the fundamental statement of the case. But 
 there is still much to be made out. We do not in the least 
 know why every single hop-plant in a field twines like a 
 left-handed screw, while every single plant in a row of 
 beans twines the other way ; nor why in some rare instances 
 a species is divided, like the human race, into right- and 
 left-handed individuals, some twining like a lext-handed, 
 others like a right-handed screw. Or, again, why some 
 very few plants will twine half-way up a stick in one direc- 
 tion, and then reverse the spiral and wind the other way. 
 Nor, though we know that in all these plants the twining 
 is caused by the change in the region of quickest growth, 
 have we any idea what causes this change of growth. 
 
 Francis Darwin. 
 
 HOOK-CLIMBERS. 
 
 1. THE common bramble climbs or scrambles up through 
 thick underwood, being assisted by the recurved spines 
 which allow the rapidly growing shoot to creep upward as 
 it lengthens, but prevent it from slipping backward again ; 
 the common goose-grass ( Galium) also climbs in this way, 
 sticking like a burr to the side of a hedge-row up which it 
 climbs. Most country boys will remember having taken 
 
16 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 advantage of this burr-like quality of Galium in making 
 sham birds' nests, the prickly stems adhering together in 
 the desired form. Such plants as the bramble or Galium 
 exhibit none -of the swinging-round movement of climbers : 
 they simply grow straight on, trusting to their hooks to re- 
 tain the position gained. 
 
 2. In some species of clematis we find a mechanism 
 which reminds one of a simple hook-climber, but is in real- 
 ity a much better arrangement. The } oung leaves project- 
 ing outward and slightly backward from the stem may re- 
 mind us of the hooked spines of a bramble, and, like them, 
 easily catch on neighboring objects, and support the trailing 
 stem. Or the leaf of a species of clematis may serve as an 
 example of a leaf acting like a hook. The main stalk of 
 the leaf is bent angularly downward at the points where 
 each successive pair of leaflets is attached, and the leaflet at 
 the end of the leaf is bent down at right angles, and thus 
 forms a grappling apparatus. 
 
 3. The clematis does not, like the bramble, trust to mere 
 growth to thrust itself among tangled bushes, but possesses 
 the same powers of revolving in search of a support which 
 simple or true twining plants possess. Indeed, many species 
 of clematis are actually twining plants, and can wind spi- 
 rally up a stick placed in their way. And the same revolv- 
 ing movement which enables them thus to wind spirally 
 also helps them to search for some holding-place for their 
 hook- or grapple-like leaves, and in many species the search 
 is carried on by the leaves swinging round, quite independ- 
 ently of the revolving movement of the stem on which they 
 are borne. 
 
 4. If a leaf of a clematis succeed by any means in hook- 
 ing on to a neighboring object, the special characteristic of 
 leaf -climbing plants comes into play. The stalk of the leaf 
 curls strongly over toward the object touching it, and clasps 
 it firmly. It is obvious how great is the advantage thus 
 
HONE PLANTS AND THEIR WAYS. 17 
 
 gained over a mere hook. A leaf might be made to catch 
 on to a neighboring twig by its bent stalk in such a way 
 that, although it managed to stay where it was, it could 
 
 Clasping Leaves. 
 
 bear none of the weight of the plant, and would be liable to 
 be displaced by a strong wind or other disturbance. But 
 when the stalk of the leaf has curled round the twig, noth- 
 ing could displace it, and it could take its share in the work 
 of sustaining tne plant. 
 
 5. The genus Tropceolum, whose cultivated species are 
 often called nasturtiums, also consists of leaf-climbing 
 plants, which climb like clematis by grasping neighboring 
 objects with their leaf-stalks. In some species we find 
 climbing organs developed, which can not logically be dis- 
 tinguished from tendrils ; they consist of little filaments, 
 not green like a leaf, but colored like the stem. Their 
 tips are a little flattened and furrowed, but never develop 
 into leaves ; and these filaments are sensitive to a touch, 
 and bend toward a touching object, which they clasp se- 
 curely. Filaments of this kind are borne by the young 
 plant, but it subsequently produces filaments with slightly 
 
18 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 enlarged ends, then with rudimentary or dwarfed leaves, 
 and finally with full-sized leaves ; when these are developed 
 they clasp with their leaf -stalks, and then the first-formed 
 filaments wither and die off ; thus the plant, which in its 
 youth was a tendril-climber, gradually develops into a true 
 leaf-climber. During the transition, every gradation be- 
 tween a leaf and a tendril may be seen on the same plant. 
 
 6. The family of the Biynonias is one of the most inter- 
 esting of the class of tendril-climbers, on account of the 
 
 variety of adaptation which is found 
 among them. In one species the leaf 
 bears a pair of leaflets, and ends in a 
 tendril having three branches. The 
 main tendril may be compared to a 
 bird's leg with three toes, each bear- 
 ing a small claw. And this compari- 
 son seems apt enough, for, when the 
 tendril comes against a twig, the three 
 Tendril Hooks. toes curl round it like those of a perch- 
 ing bird. Besides the toes or tendrils, 
 the leaf-stalk is sensitive, and acts like that of a regular 
 leaf-climber, wrapping itself round a neighboring object. 
 
 7. In some cases the young leaves have no tendrils at 
 their tips, but clasp with their stalks, and this is a case ex- 
 actly the reverse of Tropceoluma tendril-climber whose 
 young leaves have no tendrils, instead of a leaf-climber 
 whose young climbing organs are not leaves. Thus the 
 close relationship that exists between leaf- and tendril- 
 climbers is again illustrated. This plant also combines the 
 qualities of another class of climbers, namely, twiners, for 
 it can wind spirally round a support as well as a hop or any 
 other true twiner. Another species also helps to support 
 itself by putting out roots from its stems, which adhere 
 to the stick up which the plant is climbing. So that here 
 are four different methods of climbing twining, leaf, ten- 
 
HOME PLANTS AND THEIR WATS. 19 
 
 dril, and root-climbing which are usually characteristic of 
 different classes of climbers, combined in a single species. 
 
 8. The tendrils of the Virginia creeper may here be 
 worth noticing. This plant can climb up a flat wall, and 
 is not adapted to seize sticks or twigs ; its tendrils do occa- 
 sionally curl round a stick, but they often let go again. 
 They, like bignonia tendrils, are sensitive to the light, and 
 grow away from it, and thus easily find out where the wall 
 lies up which they have to climb. A tendril which has 
 come against the wall is often seen to rise and come down 
 afresh, as if not satisfied with its first position. In a few 
 days after a tendril has touched a wall the tip swells up, 
 becomes red, and forms one of the little feet or sticky cush- 
 ions by which the tendrils adhere. The adherence is caused 
 by a resinous cement secreted by the cushions, and which 
 forms a strong bond of union between the wall and the ten- 
 dril. After the tendril has become attached it becomes 
 woody, and is in this state remarkably durable, and may 
 remain firmly attached and quite strong for as many as 
 fifteen years. 
 
 9. Besides this sense of touch, by which a bignonia ten- 
 dril distinguishes between the objects which it touches, 
 there are other instances of much more perfect and incom- 
 prehensible sensibility. Thus, some tendrils, which are so 
 sensitive that they curl up when a weight of one thirtieth 
 or even one fiftieth of a grain is placed on them, do not 
 take the least notice of a shower of rain whose falling drops 
 must cause a much greater shock to the tendrils. 
 
 10. Again, some tendrils seem to have the power of dis- 
 tinguishing between objects which they wish to seize and 
 their brother tendrils which they do not wish to catch. A 
 tendril may be drawn repeatedly over another without caus- 
 ing the latter to contract. 
 
 11. The tendrils of another excellent climber (Cobcea 
 scandens) possess some curious properties. The tendrils are 
 
20 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 much divided, and end in delicate branchlets, as thin as 
 bristles, and very flexible, each bearing a minute double 
 hook at its tip. These are formed of a hard, woody sub- 
 stance, and are as sharp as needles ; a single tendril may 
 bear between ninety and a hundred of these beautiful little 
 grappling-hooks. The flexibility of the tendrils is of ser- 
 vice in allowing them to be blown about by a bre"ath of 
 wind, and they can thus be made to seize hold of objects 
 which are out of reach of the ordinary revolving movements. 
 Many tendrils can only seize a stick by curling round it, 
 and this, even in the most sensitive tendril, must take a min- 
 ute or two ; but with Cobcea the sharp hooks catch hold of 
 little irregularities on the bark the moment the tendril 
 comes into contact with it, and afterward the tendril can 
 curl round and make the attachment permanent. 
 
 12. The movement of the little hook-bearing branches 
 is very remarkable in this species. If a tendril catches an 
 object with one or two hooks, it is not contented, but tries 
 to attach the rest of them in the same way. Now, many 
 of the branches will chance to be so placed that their hooks 
 do not naturally catch, either because they come laterally, 
 or with their blunt backs against the wood, but after a 
 short time, by a process of twisting and adjusting, each 
 little hook becomes turned, so that its sharp point can get 
 a hold on the wood. 
 
 13. The sharp hook on the tendrils of Cobcea is only a 
 very perfect form of the bluntly curved tip which many 
 tendrils possess, and which serves the same purpose of tem- 
 porarily holding the object caught until the tendril can 
 curve over and make it secure. There is a curious proof 
 of the usefulness of even this blunt hook in the fact that 
 the tendril is only sensitive to a touch on the inside of the 
 hook. The tendril, when it comes against a twig, always 
 slips up it till the hook catches on it, so that it would be 
 of no use to be sensitive on the convex side. Some ten- 
 
HOME PLANTS AND THEIR WAYS. 21 
 
 drils, on the other hand, have no hook at the end, and here 
 the tendrils are sensitive to the touch on any side. 
 
 14. There is a remarkable movement which occurs in 
 tendrils after they have caught an object, and which ren- 
 ders a tendril a better climbing organ than any sensitive 
 leaf. This movement is called spiral contraction. When 
 a tendril first seizes an object it is quite straight, with the 
 exception of the extreme tip, which is firmly curled round 
 the object seized. But in a day or two the tendril begins 
 to contract, and ultimately assumes the corkscrew-like 
 form represented in the figures. It is clear that in spirally 
 contracting the tendril has become considerably shorter ; 
 
 Tendril Coil. 
 
 and, since the end of the tendril is fixed to a branch, it is 
 obvious that the stem must be dragged nearer to the object 
 which its tendril has caught. Thus, if a shoot of bryony 
 seizes a support above it, the contraction of the tendril will 
 pull up the shoot in the right direction, So that in this 
 respect the power of spiral contraction gives a tendril- 
 climber an advantage over leaf-climbers which have no con- 
 tracting power, and, therefore, no means of hauling them- 
 selves up to supporting objects. 
 
 15. But the spiral contraction of tendrils has another 
 use, and this is probably the most important one. This 
 use depends on the fact that a contracted tendril acts like 
 a spiral spring, and is thus converted into a yielding instead 
 
22 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 of an unyielding body. The spirally wound tendril yields 
 like an elastic thread to a pull which would break the ten- 
 dril in its original condition. The meaning of this arrange- 
 
 Coil and DisL 
 
 ment is to enable the plant to weather a gale which would 
 tear it from its support by snapping the tendrils, if they 
 were not converted into spiral springs. After the tendril 
 has taken hold of a support, spiral coils can be made in it 
 only by the middle part of the tendril turning, and this 
 will cause the coils to be turned one half in one direction 
 and one half in the other. 
 
HOME PLANTS AND THEIR WAYS. 23 
 
 16. As in the process of natural selection the hook- 
 climbers appear to have grown out of the twiners, the 
 question may occur, Why is hook-climbing a more perfect 
 method of climbing than turning ? Why, when a plant 
 had become a twining plant, did it not rest satisfied ? The 
 fact that leaf- and tendril-climbers had been developed out 
 of twiners, and not vice versa, is a proof that climbing by 
 leaves or tendrils is a more advantageous habit than twin- 
 ing ; but we do not see why it should be so. If we inquire 
 why any plant has become a climber, we shall see the rea- 
 son. Light is a necessity for all green plants ; and a plant 
 which can climb is enabled to escape from the shadow of 
 other plants with a far less waste of material than a forest- 
 tree, which only pushes its branches into the light by sheer 
 growth. Thus, the weak, straggling stem of a climbing 
 plant gets all the advantages gained by the solid, column - 
 like tree-trunk. If we apply this test which is the most 
 economical plan of climbing, twining or leaf-climbing we 
 see at once that a plant which climbs by seizing wastes far 
 less material than one which twines. Thus, a kidney-bean, 
 which had climbed up a stick to a height of two feet, when 
 unwound from its support was found to be three feet in 
 length, whereas a pea which had climbed up two feet by its 
 tendrils was hardly longer than the height reached. Thus, 
 the bean had wasted considerably more material by its 
 method of climbing by twining round a stick, instead of 
 going straight up, supported by its tendrils, like the pea. 
 
 17. There are several other ways in which climbing by 
 tendrils is a much better plan than twining. It is a safer 
 method, as any one may convince himself by comparing 
 the security of a tendril-bearer in a heavy wind with the 
 ease with which a twiner is partly blown from its support. 
 Again, by looking at those leaf-climbing plants which still 
 possess in addition the power of twining, it will be seen 
 how incomparably better they grasp a stick than does a 
 
24 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 simple twiner. And again, a twiner from being best fitted 
 to climb bare stems often has to start in the shade, whereas 
 a leaf- or tendril-climber can ramble for the whole extent of 
 its growth up the sunny side of a bush. 
 
 18. To repeat once more the steps which it is believed 
 have occurred in the evolution of climbing plants : It is 
 probable that plants have become twiners by exaggerating 
 a swinging-round or revolving movement, which occurred 
 in a rudimentary form, and in a useless condition, in some 
 of their ancestors. This movement has been utilized for 
 twining, the stimulus which has driven the process of 
 change in this direction having been the necessity for 
 light. 
 
 19. The second stage has been the development of sen- 
 sitive leaves by a twining plant. No doubt at first no leaf- 
 climber depended entirely on its leaves it was merely a 
 twiner which helped itself by its leaves. Gradually the 
 leaves became more perfect, and then the plant could leave 
 off the wasteful plan of growing spirally up a stick, and 
 adopt the more economical and more effective one of pure 
 leaf -climbing. 
 
 20. Finally, from sensitive leaves were developed the 
 marvelously perfect tendrils which can perceive one fiftieth 
 of a grain, and can show distinct curvature within twenty- 
 five seconds after being touched, tendrils with delicate, 
 sticky ends, or endowed with the power of moving toward 
 the dark, or of creeping into little cracks, or with that 
 mysterious sense of touch by which a tendril can distin- 
 guish a brother tendril from an ordinary twig, and can dis- 
 tinguish the weight of a rain-drop hanging to it from that 
 of a bit of thread in short, all the delicate contrivances 
 which place tendril-bearers so eminently at the head of the 
 climbing plants. 
 
 Francis Darwin. 
 
HOME PLANTS AND THEIR WATS. 25 
 
 THE HOSPITALITY OF PLANTS. 
 
 1. As if in return for the manifold services which plants 
 require and receive from their fellow-creatures, they show 
 kindness of their own to animal life, and shelter and feed 
 the most timid as well as the noblest of beings with the 
 hospitality of their generous life. In early childhood al- 
 ready we are taught that even the smallest of seeds the 
 mustard-seed grows up to be a tree, "in whose branches the 
 fowls of the heavens have their habitation/' that "both 
 Judah and Israel dwelt safely, every man under his vine 
 and under his fig-tree, all the days of Solomon," and that 
 Deborah, the prophetess, " dwelt under a palm-tree." Mod- 
 ern science has furnished as numerous striking and detailed 
 instances of the great variety of life which is thus inti- 
 mately connected with the vegetable kingdom. 
 
 2. It is not only that the plaintive nightingale sings 
 in the murmuring poplar, while the gay butterfly loves the 
 sweet-scented rose, that the somber yew hides the owl's 
 nest, and the dark northern pine harbors the fur-clad 
 squirrel. Animals, invisible to the naked eye, have been 
 found to float in the sap of trees, and even the smallest 
 moss has its own tiny insect, which it boards and lodges. 
 Aphides and gall-insects live, in every sense of the word, 
 on the leaves of plants, flies and butterflies on their flow- 
 ers, and ants and worms crowd upon them, after death, in 
 countless multitudes. Every plant, moreover, is inhabited 
 by some insect to which it affords an exclusive home. Many 
 caterpillars are born and die with the leaf on which they 
 live, while, on the other hand, the proud monarch oak 
 alone supports seventy different kinds of insects, a swarm 
 which sets all measurement at defiance, and, moreover, re- 
 places by numbers and the enormous voracity with which 
 they are endowed, what they want in bodily magnitude. 
 
26 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 3. Plants have to support guests of every size and shape. 
 The butterfly and its less gaudy relations drink with their 
 long trunks sweet honey out of gorgeously colored flower- 
 cups ; four-winged bees carry away the precious dust of 
 anthers in large spoons fastened to their thighs ; gall-insects 
 pierce with sharp daggers the tender leaf, drink its refresh- 
 ing juice, and deposit their eggs in the delicate texture ; 
 beetles gnaw and saw with a hundred curiously shaped in- 
 struments through the hardest wood of noble trees ; naked, 
 helpless-looking worms make the very trunk their cover 
 and their home, and with sharp augers often destroy whole 
 forests. The ingenious ant of South America has its winter 
 residence in the warm ground, and its cool summer-house 
 on tall plants. For there grows on the banks of the Ama- 
 zon River a gigantic reed, nearly thirty feet high, which is 
 frequently crowned with a large ball of earth, like the 
 golden globe on the utmost end of a lofty church-steeple. 
 This is the comfortable home of myriads of ants, which re- 
 tire to these safe dwellings, high and dry, at the time of 
 rains, and during the period of inundation, rising and de- 
 scending in the hollow of the reed, and living on what they 
 find swimming on the surface of the water. 
 
 4. Another curious lodger of a South American plant 
 is the famous cochineal-bug, well known from the precious 
 red color that bears its name, and which it draws from a 
 certain cactus until its body becomes impregnated with the 
 brilliant scarlet. It is probably the most sedentary of all 
 insects, making but one short journey in early life, and 
 then settling down for ever upon one and the same spot. 
 As soon, namely, as the young insect leaves its egg, it 
 manifests great activity and a restless desire to travel. 
 But, alas ! it finds itself upon a prickly, thorny stem, 
 hanging high in the air, and in contact with no other. 
 But Nature soon comes to its aid, and sends a small spider 
 to spin a silken thread from branch to branch. Upon this 
 
HOME PLANTS AND THEIR WAYS. 27 
 
 slender, trembling bridge, the young cochineal wanders 
 boldly out to a new world, seeks a promising spot, delib- 
 erately sinks its fragile trunk into the juicy leaf, and never 
 draws it back again drinking, drinking, like a toper as 
 he is, through his whole existence. 
 
 5. Even larger inhabitants are often found on quite 
 small plants. Thus, England produces a slight but well- 
 supported thistle, which is frequently found to have little 
 elaborate nests hanging down at an elevation of a few 
 inches from the ground. These contain not insects, but 
 mice, though of the smallest variety known, and are occa- 
 sionally large enough to hold as many as nine young ones, 
 carefully stowed away and well secured against all enemies 
 and dangers. 
 
 6. Birds seem, of course, the most natural lodgers of 
 plants ; they find there abundance of nourishment, all the 
 material for building their nests, and a well-protected home. 
 The eagle gathers the knotted branches of oaks or pines, to 
 bring up his fierce brood upon the hard, uncushioned couch ; 
 the thorn tears a handful of wool from the passing sheep 
 for its tiny inhabitants ; and the despised mullein covers 
 its broad leaves with the softest of downs to line the bed of 
 the delicate children of the humming-bird. There is prob- 
 ably no bush and no tree that has not its own particular 
 bird ; everywhere do the fowls of the air find a foliage, 
 thicker or thinner, to shelter them against rain, heat, and 
 cold ; a hollow trunk affords safe and warm lodgings ; soft 
 moss carpets their dwellings, and insects and worms swarm 
 around, to offer, at the same time, food in abundance. 
 They give, in return, life and sound to the immovable 
 plant. Song-birds of many kinds perch and sing their 
 beautiful anthems on every spray ; locusts trill their mo- 
 notonous and yet pleasing note among a world of leaves 
 through long summer noons, and the katydid utters its 
 shrill cry during sultry nights. They all love their home, 
 
28 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 making it their dwelling by night and by day, and many 
 are the instances in which birds, that had long lived in 
 certain trees, have died from homesickness when they were 
 felled. 
 
 7. Nor has man himself neglected to avail himself of 
 trees as a dwelling or a home. Already Lucinius Mutia- 
 nus, an ex-consul of Lycia, took special pleasure in feasting 
 twenty-one guests in a hollow plane-tree ; and modern 
 travelers tell us of a gigantic baobab in Senegambia, the 
 interior of which is used as a public hall for national meet- 
 ings, while its portals are ornamented with rude, quaint 
 sculptures, cut out of the still living wood. The sacred 
 fig-tree of India, which, as Milton says, 
 
 "Branching so broad along, that in the ground 
 The bending twigs take root, and daughters grow 
 About the mother-tree a pillar's shade 
 High overarched, with echoing walks between," 
 is worshiped as sacred, and the lazy, helpless priest, the 
 Bonze, builds himself a hut, not unlike a bird's cage, in its 
 branches, where he spends his life dreaming, in contempla- 
 tive indolence, under its cool, pleasant shade. 
 
 8. Nay, whole nations live in the branches of trees. 
 There is a race of natives of South America, west of the 
 mouth of the Orinoco, the Guaranis, who have never yet 
 been completely subdued, thanks mainly to their curious 
 habitations. The great Humboldt tells us that they twine 
 most skillfully the leaf-stalks of the Mauritius palm into 
 cords, and weave them with great care into mats. These 
 they suspend high in the air from branch to branch, and 
 cover them with clay ; here they dwell, and in a dark night 
 the amazed and bewildered traveler may see the fires of 
 their dwellings high in the tops of lofty trees. 
 
 9. Thus it is that vegetable and animal life go hand in 
 hand, showing that beautiful bond of love which pervades 
 all nature, even in its minor parts. Where there is life, there 
 
HOME PLANTS AND THEIR WAYS. 29 
 
 are plants, and on land and on water, on the loftiest mount- 
 ain-top and in the very bowels of the earth everywhere 
 does man find a plant to minister to his support and enjoy- 
 ment, everywhere he sees plants quietly and mysteriously 
 perform their humble duty in the great household of na- 
 ture. Plants alone it would at first sight appear have 
 no home, for they seem to be at home everywhere. Turn 
 up the soil where you will, to any depth, and such a rich 
 abundance of vegetable life is mixed with the loam that 
 almost instantaneously plants innumerable spring up from 
 seeds, which may have lain slumbering for thousands of 
 years in the warm bosom of our mother earth. 
 
 10. Man himself can not master this exuberance of 
 vegetable life. He may change it by cultivation, it is true, 
 but that also only for a time. And what is a generation or 
 two in comparison with the eternal earth ? Do not even 
 in our day, and before our eyes, lofty trees raise their 
 proud heads where our fathers cut the green turf with 
 their sharp plow ? In vain does man take the Alpine rose 
 from the banks of its pure mountain brook and plant it in 
 the lowly valley ; in vain does he bring costly seeds from 
 the Indies, and the warm climes of the tropics, even to the 
 ice-clad coast of Norway. They live and pine and die. It 
 is true he sometimes seeks to reverse Nature itself. He 
 places bubbling fountains on the top of high hills, and 
 plants lime-trees and poplars between great masses of rocks ; 
 vineyards must adorn his valleys, and meadows spread their 
 soft velvet over mountain-sides. But the poet of old al- 
 ready has taught us that you may drive out Nature even 
 with the pitchfork, and yet she will ever return. 
 
 11. A few years' neglect, and how quickly she resumes 
 her sway ! Artificial lakes become gloomy marshes, bowers 
 are filled with countless briers, and stately avenues are over- 
 grown with reckless profusion. The plants of the soil de- 
 clare war against the intruders from abroad, and claim once 
 
30 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 more their birthright to the land of their fathers. The 
 fine, well- trimmed turf is smothered under a thousand 
 coarser plants, rank grass and fat clover overspread the 
 exotics ; briers climb up with the aid of hooks and ladders, 
 as if they were storming a fortress ; nettles fill the urns of 
 statues with their thick tufts, and unsightly mosses creep 
 up the very faces of marble beauties. Wild cherry-trees 
 and maples seize on every cornice and cleft of every stately 
 mansion, hardy, invincible roots penetrate into the slightest 
 opening, until at last victory is declared, and the trees of 
 the forest wave their rich foliage over the high turrets, and 
 raise triumphantly on spire and pinnacle the gorgeous 
 banner of Nature. 
 
 M. Schele de Vere. 
 
 THE RHODORA. 
 
 1. IN May, when sea- winds pierced our solitudes, 
 I found the fresh rhodora in the woods, 
 Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook, 
 To please the desert and the sluggish brook. 
 The purple petals, fallen in the pool, 
 
 Made the black waters with their beauty gay : 
 
 Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool, 
 
 And court the flower that cheapens his array. 
 
 2. Rhodora ! if the sages ask thee why 
 
 This charm is wasted on the earth and sky, 
 Tell them, dear, that if eyes were made for seeing, 
 Then Beauty is its own excuse for being. 
 Why thou wert there, rival of the rose ! 
 
 I never thought to ask, I never knew ; 
 But in my simple ignorance suppose 
 
 The self -same Power that brought me there brought you. 
 
 JZmerson. 
 
PART II. 
 STRANGE PLANTS AND THEIR WAYS. 
 
 THE BUILDER'S TREE OF CHINA. 
 
 1. A TREE of great importance in the uses of daily life 
 to those who dwell in the localities of its growth is the bam- 
 boo. It is found in Asia and the West Indies, but it is in 
 the eastern portion of the former continent that it enters 
 most largely into the needs of the people. It has a hard 
 texture, with hollow, jointed stems, and grows to a height 
 of about fifty feet. Strictly speaking, the bamboo is a gi- 
 gantic grass, but, as great numbers grow together to a lofty 
 height, it has the aspect of a noble tree. It rarely attains 
 to a thickness of more than ten inches, or a distance be- 
 tween the joints of more than five feet. 
 
 2. The Chinese have developed the art of bamboo cul- 
 ture, for with them it is the national plant to such a de- 
 gree that they produce black as well as yellow bamboo, 
 and the Emperor has an officer whose special duty it is to 
 look after his bamboo gardens. It is said that a famine 
 was prevented in India in 1812 by the sudden flowering 
 of the bamboo-trees, and fifty thousand people were in the 
 jungles gathering the seed for food. To reach the blos- 
 soming time takes thirty years, when the plant produces 
 seed profusely and then dies. 
 
 3. The young and tender shoots of the bamboo are 
 
32 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 cooked as vegetables, and made into delicious sweetmeats 
 by the confectioners. But it is the application of the 
 bamboo in the industrial arts which marks its highest im- 
 portance. Houses, boats, the yards, cordage, and sails of 
 vessels, telescopes, aqueduct-pipes, water-proof thatching 
 and clothing, water-wheels, fences, chairs, tables, book- 
 cases, boxes, hats, umbrellas, fans, cups, measures, shields, 
 pikes and spears, paper, and pipes, are all made from this 
 protean tree, which almost rivals the palm in its usefulness. 
 The pith is used for lamp- wicks ; and exquisite carvings, 
 inlaid with gold and silver, and far more elegant than ivory- 
 work, are cut from their hard stems. The wood, indeed, is 
 so full of silex that thin slices serve the purpose of knives. 
 By experiment, Mr. Edison has found that the carbonized 
 fibers of the bamboo furnish the best material for the in- 
 candescent electric lamp, and are now used in his system 
 of electric lighting. In some of the East Indian countries, 
 as in Burmah and Siam, whole cities are built from the 
 bamboo, houses being lashed together, and capable of being 
 taken apart- like a tent. 
 
 World of Wonders. 
 
 THE SCHOLAR'S PLANT OF EGYPT. 
 
 1. O^E of the most interesting plants of the Eastern Con- 
 tinent is the papyrus, from which is derived our word pa- 
 per. It was called papu by the ancient Egyptians, whence 
 the Greek word papuros and the English word paper come. 
 The old historian Herodotus called it bublos, and from this 
 the old Greeks derived their name for a book, UUion, 
 which word we have perpetuated in our Bible. 
 
 2. The paper reed, or papyrus plant, belongs to the 
 family of sedges, and it is found now on the marshy banks 
 of rivers in Abyssinia, Syria, and Sicily. It is now rarely 
 found in the Nile, though it is from its Egyptian associa- 
 
STRANGE PLANTS AND THEIR WAYS. 33 
 
 tion that the historic interest of the papyrus plant began. 
 During the long servitude of Egypt under the warlike races 
 which overran it, and the loss of interest in literature, it is 
 probable that the culture of the papyrus plant utterly 
 ceased. 
 
 3. The part played by the papyrus plant in the early 
 history of civilization was a very important one. With 
 the exception of parchment, made from the skins of ani- 
 mals, it was the only material used by the most intel- 
 lectual of the ancient nations the Egyptians, the Greeks, 
 and Romans for the purpose of books. The papyrus, 
 being far more easily obtained and easy to use than the 
 parchment, thus became the indispensable fact in the pres- 
 ervation of ancient literature. Papyrus rolls are now fre- 
 quently found wrapped around the mummies taken out 
 of the catacombs on the Nile, and these have furnished 
 a great insight into the manners and customs of the old 
 Egyptians. 
 
 4. The stem of the papyrus is smooth, triangular in 
 shape, and attains a height of from five to twenty-five feet. 
 It bears long, grassy leaves springing from near the base, 
 and its flowers form small, flattened spikes of from six to 
 eight flowers each, clustered in great numbers in a compo- 
 nent head from fifteen to twenty inches long, supported at 
 its base by a many-leaved cup. The stalks are always half 
 submerged in the marsh or water, and the whole appear- 
 ance of the plant is very graceful. It is now cultivated oc- 
 casionally as a hot-house plant, both as a curiosity and for 
 decoration. 
 
 5. The right of growing and selling the papyrus was a 
 government monopoly in Egypt, and was directly under 
 the charge of the priests, who cultivated it in large quanti- 
 ties near their temples, which were generally located on the 
 banks of the Nile. It was used for a great variety of pur- 
 poses. Its graceful plumes crowned the statues of the gods 
 
NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 and decorated their temples ; its pith was eaten as food ; 
 wickerwork boats, baskets, and boxes were woven of its 
 stalk, and of its bark were made sails, cordage, mats, cloth, 
 and sandals, for the priests ; it was applied as medicine 
 for the cure of ulcers ; it furnished materials for torches 
 
 and candles, and its 
 roots were used for fuel 
 and manufactured into 
 utensils and furniture. 
 6. But it was in the 
 manufacture of paper 
 that it was put to its 
 most important use. 
 The mode of manufac- 
 ture was as follows : The 
 inner skin of the stalk 
 was divided by means 
 of a sharp needle into 
 as many thin plates as 
 the size would admit. 
 
 .yrflwra-n wi / -: = These were placed on 
 
 I 
 
 a table, and kept con- 
 tinually moistened by 
 Nile water. Over these 
 slips a transverse layer 
 was placed, after which 
 the whole was subject- 
 ed to pressure, till the 
 The Papyrus. plates adhered closely 
 
 together in a sheet. 
 
 The sheets were then dried in the sun, beaten smooth and 
 firm with a mallet, and polished with a piece of ivory or 
 shell. The breadth of the sheet was limited by the length 
 of the papyrus slips, but its length could be extended in- 
 definitely. 
 
STRANGE PLANTS AND THEIR WAYS. 35 
 
 7. When finished, the papyrus sheets were rolled on a 
 wooden cylinder, the ends of which, projecting beyond the 
 papyrus roll, were beautifully decorated by painting and 
 carving. Such was the material on which the most impor- 
 tant results of ancient thought were inscribed. 
 
 8. Papyrus was used for writing purposes at a very re- 
 mote period in Egypt, and during the time of Herodotus it 
 was an important article of commerce, which it continued 
 to be for seven or eight centuries. The Romans, it is said, 
 imported all their papyrus from Egypt, but improved the 
 manufacture of it. It was believed that nowhere else than 
 in Egypt did the plant grow in its full perfection and fine- 
 ness of fiber. During the early days of the Roman empire 
 a papyrus famine gave great alarm to learned men, and the 
 senate was obliged to regulate its distribution by edict. 
 
 World of Wonders. 
 
 A MIGRATORY ROSE. 
 
 1. STRANGE as the heading of this paper may appear to 
 the reader, the flower is nevertheless an entity a thing 
 that exists, and may be handled ; a plant almost as regular 
 as the swallow in its flittings to and fro ; one that travels 
 many miles annually ; and, what is more, a fashionable 
 one resorting to the sea-side during the hottest season, 
 to indulge in a swim among the cool billows of the Medi- 
 terranean. The name of this remarkable vegetable phe- 
 nomenon is the Rose of Jericho with the unlearned. Very 
 many superstitions are connected with this extraordinary 
 plant in the minds of Bedouins and other Arab tribes. 
 The ancients attributed miraculous virtues to it. 
 
 2. To behold this little rose, it is not necessary to tell 
 you "to go to Jericho"; no such uncomplimentary jour- 
 ney is required. In the arid wastes of Egypt, by the bor- 
 
36 
 
 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 ders of the Gaza desert, in Arabia's wilderness of sands, on 
 the roofs of houses and among rubbish in Syria, abundant 
 specimens are to be met with. But, like many other things 
 of insignificant exterior, few pause to look upon or handle 
 this wayside shrub, which nevertheless carries with it a les- 
 son and a moral. 
 
 3. By the laws of germination, there are, we are 
 told, these three things necessary for a plant humidity, 
 
 heat, and oxy- 
 genized air. The 
 first of them is 
 indispensable, in- 
 asmuch as with- 
 out it the grain 
 or seed would 
 not swell, and, 
 without swelling, 
 could not burst 
 its shell or skin; 
 and heat, in union 
 with water, brings 
 various gases to young plants 
 especially oxygen which 
 are necessary for their ex- 
 istence. 
 
 4. With these facts be- 
 fore us, and a knowledge that rain seldom falls in most 
 places where the rose of Jericho thrives, how are we to 
 account for the extraordinary circumstance of this plant 
 being periodically abundant and flowering at precisely the 
 same season year after year, when, by the acknowledged 
 laws of germination, there has been that succor wanting 
 which is indispensable to propagate vegetation ? Now ap- 
 pears the most remarkable and most direct interposition 
 of Nature for her offspring an interposition little short 
 
 The Rose of Jericho. 
 The dead plant and a leafy branch. 
 
STRANGE PLANTS AND THEIR WAYS. 37 
 
 of miraculous, and, indeed, apparently so fabulous as to be 
 unworthy of record. But the fact has been established 
 beyond doubt that, for its own purposes, this little plant 
 performs annual journeys over a large extent of country, 
 and into the ocean, whence, at a stated period, it, or rather 
 its offspring, returns to the original haunts, takes root, 
 thrives, and blossoms. 
 
 5. In the height of spring, when Nature casts her brill- 
 iant vesture, set with flowers and flowerets of a hundred 
 varied hues, over the fertile valleys and hills of Syria and 
 part of Palestine ; when every breeze is laden with rich in- 
 cense from orange groves or honeysuckle dells then, un- 
 heeded amid the rich profusion of vegetation, or isolated 
 amid the desert sands, blossoms the tiny rose of Jericho. 
 On house-tops, where the sun's fierce rays rend crevices ; on 
 dust-heaps, where half-starved, wretched curs prowl and dig 
 for food or a resting-place ; where multitudes throng the 
 streets, and where neither foot of man nor beast has ever 
 left imprint on the broiling sand there sprouts this wonder- 
 ful little plant. 
 
 6. When summer has fairly set in, and flowering shrubs 
 have ceased to blossom about the same season of the year 
 that Mr. Bull and his family are meditating a month's trip 
 to the sea-side for fresh breezes and sea-bathing, when the 
 whole house is turned topsy-turvy in the pleasurable excite- 
 ment of packing for the month's holiday the rose of Jeri- 
 cho begins to show symptoms of a migratory disposition also. 
 How astonished Mr. Brown would be if his gardener rushed 
 in with the startling intelligence that some favorite rose- 
 bush or other plant in the garden had evinced sudden signs 
 of restlessness, and, after a few preliminary efforts, had qui- 
 etly taken itself off for the season ! 
 
 7. Hadji Ismail, the Bedouin camel-driver, who wit- 
 nesses this phenomenon annually, encountering scores of 
 roses while migrating, simply pauses to stroke his prolific 
 
38 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 beard and fresh charge his pipe, while he pours into the 
 eager ears of some untraveled novice legends about this 
 wonderful rose legends replete with fairy romance, in 
 which almost invariably a certain unmentionable gentle- 
 man comes in for a volley of invectives, as being the insti- 
 gator of this mysterious freak of nature. 
 
 8. The first symptom the rose of Jericho gives of an 
 approaching tour is the shedding of all her leaves ; the 
 branches then collapse, apparently wither, and roll them- 
 selves firmly into the shape of a ball. Like the fairies that 
 traveled in nut-shells, this plant ensconces itself in its own 
 frame-work of a convenient shape, size, and weight for un- 
 dertaking the necessary journey. Not long has the flower 
 assumed this shape when strong land-breezes sweep over 
 the land, blowing hot and fiercely toward the ocean. In 
 their onward course, these land-winds uproot and carry 
 with them the bulbs or frame-work of our rose ; and, once 
 uprooted, these are tossed and blown over many and many 
 a dreary mile of desert sand, till they are finally whirled 
 up into the air, and swept over the coast into the ocean. 
 
 9. Soon after the little plant comes into contact with 
 the water, it unpacks again, unfolds itself, expands its 
 branches, and expels its seeds from the seed-vessels. Then, 
 I presume, the mother -plant finishes her career, or is 
 stranded a wreck upon the sea-beach. However this may 
 be, it seems evident that the seeds, after having been thor- 
 oughly saturated with water, are brought back by the 
 waves, and cast high and dry upon the beach. When the 
 westerly winds set in with violence from the sea they carry 
 these seeds back with them, scattering them far and wide 
 over the desert, and among inhabited lands ; and so surely 
 as the spring-time comes round will the desolate borders of 
 the desert be enlivened by the tiny blossoms of the rose of 
 Jericho. 
 
 Chambers^ Journal. 
 
STRANGE PLANTS AND THEIR WAYS. 39 
 
 REFRESHMENT-TREES. 
 
 1. ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT first made known to 
 the civilized world, on his return from South America, the 
 remarkable qualities of the cow-tree. Of the delicious sap 
 produced by this tree for the thirsty traveler he thus writes : 
 " We were assured that the negroes on the farm, who are in 
 the habit of drinking large quantities of this vegetable milk, 
 consider it is highly nutritious ; an assertion which startled 
 me the more as almost all lactescent vegetable fluids are 
 acrid, bitter, and somewhat poisonous. Experience, how- 
 ever, proved to us during our residence at Barbula that 
 the virtues of the cow-tree had not been exaggerated." 
 
 2. This strange tree is an evergreen which is found in 
 the mountains of Venezuela. The sap flows freely when the 
 bark is wounded, and it is safe to drink freely, for the fluid, 
 which has the color and taste of milk, is not only cool 
 and refreshing, but is full of nutriment. The natives of 
 Venezuela all know this tree well, and find in its delicious 
 sap a substitute for both food and water in time of need. 
 Some attempt was made, indeed, at one time by the Venezu- 
 elan government to extend its growth in parts of the coun- 
 try where it was not natural, but, like all efforts of South 
 Americans which exact watchfulness and trouble, it speedily 
 died out without accomplishment. 
 
 3. The traveler's tree of Madagascar, is another example 
 of the kindly provision of nature for the requirements of 
 the human kind. This tree is very abundant throughout 
 the island, and rises from the ground with a thick, succu- 
 lent stem like that of a plantain. Long, broad leaves grow 
 from opposite sides of the stalk, so that the tree looks like 
 a huge, green, open fan. " Many of the trees," says a trav- 
 eler, "reach thirty feet from the ground to the lowest 
 leaves. I frequently counted from twenty to twenty-four 
 
40 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 leaves on a single tree, the stalk of each leaf being eight 
 feet long, and the broad leaf itself being about six feet long. 
 
 The Traveler's Tree. 
 
 The whole of these twenty-four ^" 
 
 bright-green, gigantic leaves, *'l 
 
 spread out like a fern at the 
 
 top of a trunk thirty feet high, presented a spectacle as 
 
 impressive as it was rare and beautiful." 
 
 4. The chief distinction of the tree is that during the 
 most arid season it contains a large quantity of pure, fresh 
 
STRANGE PLANTS AND THEIR WAYS. 41 
 
 water, supplying to the traveler the place of wells in the 
 desert. So abundant and pure is the water that the natives 
 will not take the trouble to go to a spring or well, but draw 
 off and drink the fluid of this tree. The Kev. William El- 
 lis, in his account of a visit to Madagascar, says he was 
 skeptical of these accounts, and resolved to test their truth. 
 Passing a clump of the trees, one of his bearers thrust his 
 spear-head several inches deep into the thick, firm end of 
 the leaf-stalk, where it joined the trunk. Instantly a stream 
 of water gushed forth, about a quart of which was caught 
 in a pitcher. The water was found to be almost ice-cold, 
 clear, and perfectly sweet. 
 
 5. "But," says Mr. Ellis, "in Madagascar this tree 
 might with propriety be called the builder's instead of the 
 traveler's tree. Its leaves form the thatch of all the 
 houses on the eastern side of the island. The stems of 
 the leaves form the partitions and oftentimes the sides of 
 the houses, and the hard outside bark, having been beaten 
 out flat, is laid for flooring. I have seen the entire floor 
 of a long, well-built house covered with its bark, each 
 piece being at least eighteen feet wide and twenty or thirty 
 feet long. The leaves make water-proof wrappers, when 
 green, and they also serve the purpose of table-cloths and 
 plates at meals." 
 
 6. Charles Kingsley gives this description of a climbing 
 plant valuable to travelers, which is found in the tropical 
 forests of Trinidad: "You walk on and are suddenly 
 stopped by a gray, lichen-covered bar as thick as your ankle. 
 You follow it up with your eye, and find it entwine itself 
 with three or four other bars, and roll over with them in 
 great knots and festoons, and loops twenty feet high, and 
 then go up with them into the green cloud over your head 
 and vanish, as if a giant had thrown a ship's cable into the 
 tree-tops. 
 
 7. "At one of the loops your companion, if you have a 
 
42 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 forester with you, will spring joyfully. With a few blows 
 with his cutlass he will sever it as high up as he can reach, 
 and again below, some three feet down ; and, while you are 
 wondering at this seemingly wanton destruction, he lifts the 
 bar on high, throws his head back, and pours down his 
 thirsty throat a pint or more of pure cold water. This 
 hidden treasure is, strange as it may seem, the ascending 
 sap, or rather the ascending pure rain-water which has been 
 taken up by the roots, and is hurrying aloft to be elaborat- 
 ed into sap, and leaf, and flower, and fruit, and fresh tissue 
 for the very stem which it originally climbed, and therefore 
 it is that the woodman cuts the water- vine at the top of the 
 piece which he wants first, and not at the bottom, for so 
 rapid is the ascent of the sap that if he cut the stem below, 
 the water would all have fled upward before he could have 
 cut it off above." 
 
 THE MONARCH OF AFRICAN FORESTS. 
 
 1. Is the tropical forests of Africa, extending across 
 the entire continent, one tree is found of such immense 
 size and longevity as to be justly considered the monarch 
 of the forests. This is the baobab, or, as it is called by the 
 French settlers on the Senegal, the monkey-bread tree. 
 The trunk of this tree usually does not exceed from fifteen 
 to thirty feet in height, though it sometimes attains an 
 elevation of sixty feet. In girth, however, it reaches the 
 enormous size of forty to seventy-five feet. The branches 
 are from fifty to seventy-five feet long, their extremities 
 bending toward the ground and often touching it, so as to 
 completely conceal the trunk. The leaves are large, com- 
 pound, and star-shaped, being divided into five radiating 
 leaflets. They are very abundant, and of a dark-green 
 color, the entire foliage casting a dense shade. 
 
STRANGE PLANTS AND THEIR WAYS. 43 
 
 2. At a little distance the baobab presents the appear- 
 ance of a dome of verdure, covering an area of one hundred 
 and sixty feet in diameter. Adanson, the first naturalist 
 who studied and described this tree, estimated that some of 
 
 The Baobab- Tree. 
 
 the specimens that he observed were at least six thousand 
 years old. This is now considered an exaggeration, though 
 undoubtedly some of them have reached an immense age, 
 rivaling in this particular the big trees of California and 
 
44 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 the eucalyptus of Australia. Livingston estimated that 
 one of these trees which he examined was fourteen hun- 
 dred years old. 
 
 3. In tenacity of life this tree is remarkable. Having 
 once obtained a foothold in the soil, it retains its position 
 with great persistence. When stripped of its bark, a new 
 growth will appear ; and when the entire inside of the 
 trunk has decayed, or has been eaten out by insects, the 
 thin outer section retains sufficient vitality to give nurture 
 to the foliage above. Fire will not destroy it, and even 
 after it has fallen it continues to grow in length, the roots 
 retaining their vitality, and sending up new shoots. 
 
 4. Like the palm, the baobab is remarkable as furnish- 
 ing a great variety of articles useful to man. The fruit, 
 which grows in great abundance, is soft and pulpy, and is 
 inclosed in a long, dark-green, woody pod about the size of 
 a quart bottle. It is edible, of an agreeable flavor, but 
 rather dry. It forms an important part of the food of the 
 natives, and is transported across the desert, where it makes 
 its appearance on the shores of the Mediterranean. The 
 pulp between the seeds tastes like cream of tartar, and is 
 used by the natives for its medicinal qualities in case of 
 fevers. From the fibers of the bark a strong cord is manu- 
 factured, and to obtain this material the tree is frequently 
 stripped of its entire bark, which, however, does not appear 
 to disturb its growth, as a new bark directly makes its ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 5. The superstitions connected with this tree are of an 
 entirely different character from those associated with the 
 banyan by the natives of India. The musicians and poets 
 who preside at all ceremonies performed at the tombs of 
 the negro kings are called Guerrots. During their life, 
 their talent gives them influence and a certain kind of re- 
 spect ; but they are regarded as sorcerers, and after death 
 the respect is succeeded by a deep-seated horror for their 
 
STRANGE PLANTS AND THEIR WAYS. 45 
 
 supposed connection with malignant powers. The people 
 think that if one of these evil beings were to be buried in 
 the earth, like the bodies of other men, celestial vengeance 
 would descend upon all those who committed the sacrilege. 
 So, to avert divine wrath, they select the trunk of some 
 baobab-tree already partially hollowed out by insects or 
 fungi, increase the cavity to a sufficient size, and in it sus- 
 pend the body of the Guerrot, closing the entrance with a 
 plank. The body here becomes perfectly dry, and is changed 
 into a mummy without further preparation. 
 
 6. In ancient Egypt the body was regarded as sacred, 
 and an endeavor was made to preserve it for all time. To 
 this end the bodies of the great were embalmed, and de- 
 posited in tombs hewn out of the solid rock. In central 
 Africa the body is preserved through detestation instead of 
 reverence, the baobab-tree taking the place of the rocky 
 sepulchre. Mgui&) . 
 
 THE SACRED TREE OF INDIA. 
 
 1. THE majestic banyan-tree is lord of the forests of 
 India, and is one of the marvels of the vegetable world. 
 Its seeds are carried by the winds or dropped by the birds 
 in crevices in the rocks, or even in buildings or on trees, 
 and, when there is sufficient moisture, they germinate and 
 send rootlets downward to the earth, where they secure a 
 permanent foothold. If the long root reaches down from 
 the top of a tree, it speedily enlarges, and in a short time de- 
 stroys the original stalk which gave it life and nourishment. 
 
 2. The banyan rarely attains a great height, from sixty 
 to a hundred feet being the maximum. During its first hun- 
 dred years it behaves very much like other trees, develop- 
 ing a sturdy trunk, and an immense, dome-like head spread- 
 ing far out on all sides. Its leaves are smooth and glossy, 
 
46 
 
 NATURAL HTSTORY READER. 
 
 and of a bright green. Its foliage is so dense as to afford a 
 cooling shade and effectually prevent the growth of under- 
 brush. It produces an abundance of mild, insipid, fig-like 
 fruit, which is used both for food and for medicinal purposes. 
 3. At the end of the first century of its life the banyan 
 begins to exhibit its eccentric propensities. Its arms have 
 grown so long as to be no longer capable of supporting 
 
 The Banyan-Tree. 
 
 themselves, and they bend downward until their ends rest 
 upon the earth. Now, the little twigs, which have hitherto 
 been contented with producing leaves, send forth rootlets 
 which find lodgment in the ground ; the sap, changing its 
 direction and flowing upward, converting the small stems 
 into trunks, and affording an effectual support to the over- 
 weighted branches. The great horizontal masses are now 
 
STRANGE PLANTS AND THEIR WA YS. tf 
 
 supported at both extremities, as a bridge by its piers. 
 The main limbs reach gigantic size, and send out lateral 
 branches, which, in turn, take root and form new sup- 
 ports. These new trunks often rival or surpass the par- 
 ent stem, and this process continues for ages, until the 
 tree covers acres of ground, and presents the appearance 
 of a marvelous colonnade of stems supporting numberless 
 living rafters, and all covered with a dense canopy of per- 
 ennial green. 
 
 4. There is a banyan in Ceylon which measures fifteen 
 hundred feet around the branches more than a quarter of 
 a mile. Under the shade of a still larger tree on the banks 
 of the Nerbuddah, in India, which measures a circuit of 
 twenty-two hundred feet, whose large trunks number three 
 hundred and fifty-four, whose small ones exceed three thou- 
 sand, and whose foliage makes a home for thousands of birds 
 and monkeys, the chief of Putnah used to encamp in mag- 
 nificent style. 
 
 5. Here he would entertain his guests on his tiger-hunt- 
 ing expeditions. Separate tents were gorgeously fitted up 
 as bed-chambers, and each guest having one had three 
 servants at his command. Saloons, drawing-rooms, dining- 
 rooms, smoking-rooms, kitchens all were perfectly ap- 
 pointed. Including all the animals and servants, there 
 were seven thousand individuals in the retinue, yet the 
 great banyan easily sheltered them all. Here, when the 
 glow and flush of the fierce sun had given way to the cool 
 dews of evening, the guests of the Oriental prince sipped 
 their sherbet or champagne, and watched the movements 
 of the dancing girls, while the monkeys chattered and the 
 night-birds sang in the leafage above, and the pale moon- 
 shine glinted down through the openings in the vast roof. 
 
 6. Such is the gigantic fig-tree of India, truly one of 
 the wonders of the world, and not to be matched even in a 
 country where a hot sun combines with a rich soil to pro- 
 
48 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 duce the most striking and luxuriant forms of life. It may 
 be safely asserted that some of these trees now standing 
 were in existence when Porus drove his squadrons of ele- 
 phants against the Macedonian phalanx of Alexander the 
 Great, in the hope to save his kingdom from the dominion 
 of the world's conqueror. 
 
 7. The Hindoos regard these trees as sacred, and un- 
 der their shade perform many acts of religious signifi- 
 cance. It is a singular fact that the banyan is frequent- 
 ly found sprouting up on the spot where the Hindoo 
 widow has committed suttee a fact which causes the 
 ignorant native to regard it with tenfold superstitious rev- 
 erence. The natural explanation of this phenomenon is, 
 that the birds, attracted to the spot where the suttee is 
 performed, in search of food, drop the seeds, which speed- 
 ily spring up from the congenial soil. 
 
 THE EUCALYPTUS. 
 
 1. A FKEKCH botanist, who accompanied an expedi- 
 tion in search of the lost navigator, La Perouse, about the 
 year 1790, first described a hitherto unknown tree, which 
 he found constituting the chief part of the forests around 
 Botany Bay, Australia. From the fact that the flower- 
 bud has on it a cover not unlike the lid of a tiny sugar- 
 bowl, he called it the Eucalyptus which means "well 
 covered." The shape of the flower-bud above was very 
 much like the globular brass buttons then in use, and 
 hence he gave to the variety the specific name of glolulus ; 
 so the bluegum-tree is known to-day in science as the Eu- 
 calyptus globulus. 
 
 2. As Australia and the adjacent islands became better 
 known, it was found that a large part of the forests was 
 
STRANGE PLANTS AND THEIR WAYS. 49 
 
 composed of this and similar trees, to which the general 
 name of eucalypts has been applied. About one hundred 
 and fifty varieties of these trees have been discovered and 
 described. Most of them are evergreen, but the leaves 
 vary greatly in form in the different varieties, some being 
 grass-shaped, long, and narrow, while others are nearly as 
 broad as long. The leaf of the E. globulus is of a bluish 
 green, and hence it is popularly called the bluegum-tree. 
 They have great tenacity of life, and grow to an immense 
 size. The largest tree that is known is one in the province 
 of Victoria, which measures four hundred and eighty feet 
 in height, which is considerably higher than the tallest of 
 the sequoias of California. 
 
 3. These trees all belong to the great order of myrtle- 
 blooms, and are cousins to the pomegranate, pimento, and 
 clove. They yield an abundance of a highly aromatic gum, 
 which gives to them the universal common name of gum- 
 tree. This gum, and the oils and resins obtained by distill- 
 ing the bark and wood, have valuable medicinal proper- 
 ties. Diffused in the sick-room, they purify the air and 
 germinate ozone. 
 
 4. The eucalypts are among the most rapid of grow- 
 ers. Bluegums have been known to reach the height of 
 sixty-five feet, with a trunk more than three feet and a 
 half in circumference, in seven years. But, with all this 
 rapidity of growth, the young eucalypt seems doggedly re- 
 solved, for some years at least, to resemble its parent in 
 no particular save in the aromatic odor of its leaves. The 
 stem of the young tree is four-sided ; the leaves have no 
 appreciable petiole, half inclose the stalk, and are placed 
 opposite each other. They are also set at right angles 
 with the pairs above and below. The leaves are wide 
 and heart-shaped, and the two sides are essentially differ- 
 ent, the upper being exposed to the sun, and the lower 
 kept in the shade and containing the breathing organs. 
 
 3 
 
50 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 The leaves are thin, soft, and succulent, and of a bright 
 grassy green. 
 
 5. The old tree seems to eschew all the indiscretions of 
 its youth. The stalk becomes round, the leaves elongate, 
 have a long petiole, and are placed alternate on the stalk. 
 But a greater change takes place in the character of the 
 leaf. It now becomes thick, leathery, dry, and of a bluish 
 green ; and it turns so that one edge is up, exposing both 
 sides equally to the sunlight. To accomplish this change 
 of position, the petiole actually twists itself as if it knew 
 what it was about. The two sides of the leaf now become 
 alike both in organs and function. The ribs and veins are 
 alike prominent on each side, much as if the roof of a house 
 should have beams and rafters inside and out. Breathing 
 organs appear on both sides, and this is what gives to the 
 eucalyptus one of its most peculiar characteristics. Both 
 sides of the leaf work equally, and the tree becomes a 
 double-cylinder pumping-engine, instead of a single one as 
 in xother trees. 
 
 tk- The wood of the tree when freshly cut is soft ; but 
 the gum soon hardens, and it becomes well-nigh imperish- 
 able. The terrible ship-worm, which destroys most timber 
 exposed to its ravages, lets it alone, making it invaluable 
 for ship-timber, docks, and all marine structures. It is 
 proof against that fearful scourge of tropical regions, the 
 white ant ; hence, in India it is used for the sleepers of 
 railways and a multitude of other purposes. It furnishes 
 valuable timber to the wheelwright, carpenter, and cabinet- 
 maker. While the tree usually holds tenaciously to its 
 leaves, it readily sheds its outer bark, and such immense 
 pieces are sometimes detached that the natives make a rude 
 hut from a single piece. It is specially valuable for shingles, 
 as it does not easily burn, and the gum makes it lasting 
 when exposed to the air. The bark of many species is ser- 
 viceable for paper-making. 
 
STRANGE PLANTS AND THEIR WAYS. 51 
 
 7. With all its utilities, the eucalyptus is most widely 
 known for its sanitary qualities. From observation and 
 experiment, it seems to deserve the name by which it is 
 often known the fever-tree. Its hygienic qualities have 
 long been known in Australia, and this has led to exten- 
 sive plantings in malarious regions where the climate will 
 permit their growth. They are semi-tropical, and the 
 ordinary varieties can not endure the cold. They nour- 
 ish well in California, and in other like warm regions. 
 A plantation in Algiers cleared a region of miasma where, 
 previous to its introduction, the French garrison had to 
 be changed every five days on account of malaria. Some 
 of the most unhealthful parts of the Campagna near 
 Rome have been rendered inhabitable by the eucalyptus 
 groves. 
 
 8. The sanitary effects of the eucalyptus are twofold. 
 From the peculiar structure of its leaves, as above shown, 
 it has an enormous pumping power, it being estimated 
 that a tree will eliminate from a swampy soil eight times 
 its own weight in water every twenty-four hours. This 
 moisture is delivered to the atmosphere in the condition 
 of pure water, all deleterious substances being strained 
 out by the tissues of the wood. In addition to this health- 
 ful drainage, the aroma of the leaves acts beneficially in 
 two ways : first, by directly furnishing an invigorating 
 tonic through the lungs, and, second, by creating ozone, 
 and thus indirectly stimulating healthful action of the 
 nerves and tissues. 
 
 9. The demonstrated value of the eucalyptus has made 
 its spread very rapid, so that it now has become quite com- 
 mon in all civilized countries where the conditions are fa- 
 vorable to its growth. By care in cultivation, it will doubt- 
 less in time become acclimated -to colder regions. But 
 restricted as it now is, its value is so great that it may be 
 considered as the great tree of the future. 
 
52 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 THE SENSITIVE-PLANT. 
 
 1. A SENSITIVE-PLANT in a garden grew, 
 And the young winds fed it with silver dew, 
 And it opened its fan-like leaves to the light, 
 And closed them beneath the kisses of night. 
 
 2. And the Spring arose on the garden fair, 
 And the Spirit of Love fell everywhere ; 
 
 And each flower and herb on earth's dark breast 
 Eose from the dreams of its wintry rest. 
 
 3. But none ever trembled and panted with bliss 
 In the garden, the field, or the wilderness, 
 
 Like a doe in the noontide with love's sweet want, 
 As the companionless sensitive-plant. 
 
 4. The snowdrop, and then the violet, 
 
 Arose from the ground with warm rain wet, 
 And their breath was mixed with fresh odor sent 
 From the turf, like the voice and the instrument. 
 
 5. Then the pied windflowers and tulip tall, 
 And narcissi, the fairest among them all, 
 Who gaze on their eyes in the stream's recess, 
 Till they die of their own dear loveliness ; 
 
 6. And the Naiad-like lily of the vale, 
 
 Whom youth makes so fair and passion so pale, 
 That the light of its tremulous bells is seen 
 Through their pavilions of tender green ; 
 
 7. And the hyacinth purple, and white, and blue, 
 Which flung from its bells a sweet peal anew 
 Of music so delicate, soft, and intense, 
 
 It was felt like an odor within the sense ; 
 
STRANGE PLANTS AND THEIR WA YS. 53 
 
 8. And the rose like a nymph to the bath addressed, 
 Which unveiled the depth of her glowing breast, 
 Till, fold after fold, to the fainting air 
 
 The soul of her beauty and love lay bare ; 
 
 9. And the wand-like lily, which lifted up, 
 As a Maenad, its moonlight-colored cup, 
 Till the fiery star, which is its eye, 
 
 Gazed through the clear dew on the tender sky ; 
 
 10. And the jessamine faint, and the sweet tuberose, 
 The sweetest flower for scent that blows ; 
 And all rare blossoms from every clime 
 Grew in that garden in perfect prime. 
 
 Shelley. 
 
PART III. 
 LOW LIFE IN THE SEA. 
 
 ANIMATED JELLIES. 
 
 1. THE visitor to the sea-shore will rarely fail to find 
 among the growing sea- weeds little plant-like clusters, which 
 at first appear to be vegetable, but they are really the 
 curious little sea-animals called hydroids or jelly-fish. 
 From each little plant there arise buds, which soon en- 
 large, float away, and become beautiful jelly-fish. There 
 are other hydroids, in the shape of bells, and some which 
 appear like miniature trees with all their foliage massed 
 at the top, and from beneath which there depend bunches, 
 as it were, of grapes or other fruit. These fruit-like clus- 
 ters are jelly-fishes that stick fast, instead of detaching 
 themselves and becoming free jelly-fishes, as in some other 
 varieties. 
 
 2. The name medusa is applied to the most numerous, 
 remarkable, and beautiful varieties of the jelly-fish. These 
 graceful animals may be observed anywhere, in our summer 
 waters, generally not far from the shore. Seeming to the 
 careless sight to be mere floating plants, a closer inspection 
 discovers in them animal forms of the rarest beauty of 
 form and color, that sail hither and thither, and appar- 
 ently have even a certain power of controlling their move- 
 ments against the set of wind and current. 
 
LOW LIFE IN THE SEA. 55 
 
 3. The general name of the medusa was applied to 
 this animal on account of the snake-like filaments which 
 it possesses, highly suggestive of the serpent locks of the 
 Greek Medusa, one of the Gorgons ; perhaps, also, from 
 
 The Medusa. 
 
 the danger of contact which all too-curious observers in- 
 cur. The property common to nearly all the jelly-fish 
 that of a most severe and painful sting is in some of 
 the medusae a paralyzing power against which the strongest 
 
56 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 men stand no chance. It is believed by scientific men 
 that many of the cases of the sudden drowning of expe- 
 rienced swimmers is owing in as large degree to the attack 
 of these beautiful and inoffensive-looking sea-creatures as to 
 cramp. 
 
 4. Floating on the bosom of the waters, the medusa 
 resembles a bell, an umbrella, or, better still, a floating 
 mushroom, the stalk of which has been separated into 
 lobes more or less divergent, sinuous, twisted, shriveled, 
 fringed, the edges of the cup being delicately cut, and 
 provided with long thread-like appendages, which descend 
 vertically into the water like the drooping branches of the 
 weeping willow. 
 
 5. The gelatinous substance of which the body of the 
 medusa is formed is sometimes as clear as crystal, some- 
 times opaline, and sometimes bright blue or pale rose-color. 
 Indeed, almost every color of the solar spectrum is repre- 
 sented in these little creatures. The shining tissue, decked 
 out in the finest tints, is so fragile that, when washed up 
 on the beach, it disappears in the sun without leaving a 
 trace behind. Yet these living soap-bubbles of the sea 
 make long voyages, and in some parts of the ocean abound 
 in such enormous quantity that they make the principal 
 food of the greatest of sea-animals, the whale. 
 
 6. They swim by their long tentacles and by contraction 
 and dilatation of their bodies ; and the ancients, from this 
 peculiar movement of the medusae, named them sea-lungs. 
 Wandering over the seas in immense battalions, if an ob- 
 stacle arrests them or an enemy touches them, the umbrella 
 contracts, the tentacles are folded up, and the timid ani- 
 mals sink into the depths of the ocean. 
 
 7. The medusas are furnished with a mouth, placed ha- 
 bitually in the middle of the umbrella-like head ; a mouth, 
 too, which is rarely empty, for the animal is voracious in 
 the extreme, devouring even shell-fish, and attacking sue- 
 
LOW LIFE IN THE SEA. 57 
 
 cessfully fish four or five inches in length. In respect to 
 size the medusae vary immensely, some being very small, 
 while others attain more than a yard in diameter. 
 
 8. They breathe through the skin, and the organs of 
 digestion are very peculiar. The walls of the stomach are 
 furnished with a great multitude of vibrating hairy appen- 
 dages, which secrete a juice supposed to decompose the food 
 and make it digestible. Scientists also assert that these 
 creatures have a distinct circulation, organs of sense, and 
 something like a nervous system. The medusae, for the 
 most part, reproduce themselves.* Few fishes are more 
 marvelous in their construction, more beautiful and grace- 
 ful in form, than the medusa, and there is none which can 
 be more easily studied by the frequenter of the sea-side. 
 
 World of Wonders. 
 
 FLOWERS OF THE SEA. 
 
 1. OUR object now is to say something of one of these 
 flower-like types of marine life, namely, the sea-anemone. 
 It is significant, as showing the suggestiveness of these 
 creatures, that, however diverse the nomenclature of sci- 
 ence may be in regard to them, it is often almost poetical, 
 and the words used are always expressive, and even possess 
 pictorial significance. De Blainville named them Zoantha- 
 ria, from which comes animal-flower. Dr. Johnson's term 
 took a wider latitude, and, although quite formidable-look- 
 ing, and not in the best taste, was very significant. He 
 gave the name Zoophyte heUanthoidea, which is to say, the 
 sunflower-like animal-plant. 
 
 2. In these terms the animal nature and the flower-like 
 
 * By simply detaching a portion of its body, each part becomes a per- 
 fect animal. 
 
58 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 form are intended. The creature is really a polyp, a soft, 
 almost pulpy, sac-like structure, with a fringe of tentacles, 
 like a halo of rays, around the upper end ; in the center of 
 the circular fringe, the mouth, or oral aperture, being situ- 
 ated. Hence, it is often spoken of as an actinia, which 
 really means possessing rays. The word is now worked 
 into another word, Actinozoa, meaning rayed animals, that 
 is to say, animals with rays around an oral disk. But the 
 term is used to designate a class ; hence, it includes all the 
 polyps, those that construct coral, and the others. This 
 class is again divided into several orders, one of which is 
 named Zoantharia, or, as it is sometimes called, the Heli- 
 anthoid polyps. It is in this order that the actinia proper 
 is found ; and, therefore, it is there that we must find our 
 sea-anemone. 
 
 3. Taken in the hand, the sea-anemone imparts a slip- 
 pery feeling, and it seems to have the consistency of leather. 
 As the actinia erects itself, attached to a rock or stone, it 
 looks like one of the purses formerly fashionable, if one 
 such could be made to stand of itself erect, and have the 
 frill around the upper end to project in a circle. But we 
 must be more particular than this. The upright part, that 
 which is called by naturalists the column, is hollow, like a 
 sack. Its base is really a sucking surface, enabling it to 
 adhere to any hard object. By this sucking base it can 
 glide, or travel along, much like a snail. 
 
 4. And, as it thus moves, it can keep its flower spread 
 out, and its many tentacles in constant play in fact, fish- 
 ing on the way. Their movement is, however, very slow. 
 Indeed, a "snail-pace" would be alarmingly fast for an 
 actinia. We have watched them attentively, and have 
 found that an inch in an hour was a very satisfactory per- 
 formance. At the top is an opening, called the oral cavity, 
 which, in the rosea, is surrounded just inside with a bead- 
 ing of little dots. This opening may be called the mouth, 
 
LOW LIFE IN THE SEA. 
 
 59 
 
 because the food is passed at this aperture into the stomach, 
 which is a cylindrical sac, suspended below, and reaching 
 about half-way down the great cavity of the column. 
 Around the oral cavity, and external to it, is a plain sur- 
 
 Sea- Anemones. 
 
 face, which is technically known as the "disk." Around 
 the disk, on its outer edge, is the fringe of tentacles. Each 
 one of these is a little hollow cylinder, opening into the 
 great cavity of the column immediately under the edge of 
 
60 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 the disk. In fact, these tentacles, or feelers, connect with 
 the interior of the stem of the anemone, just as the fingers 
 of a glove do with the interior of the same. 
 
 5. Let me invite you to a sight I have many times be- 
 held. I have in captivity a hungry sea-flower. Knowing 
 well what suits its palate, I take a delicate morsel like a 
 pilule, and let it fall into the water. It descends upon the 
 waving petals, or tentacula, on the point of one of which 
 the pretty creature has caught it in an instant. How deli- 
 cate the adjustment upon its more than fairy fingers ! For 
 a few moments it is balanced with the nicest poise on that 
 dactylic petal. Ah ! a voracious and unmannerly little 
 bummer of a minnow sees the delicious morsel, and makes 
 a rapid dash to snatch it from my pet. " Good ! good ! 
 Well done, my bonnie ! " I did not see the slightest motion 
 of that indignant flower-creature ; yet assuredly there was 
 a movement, and an effective one, too : for the zoophyte 
 had shot one of its invisible shafts, and the ichthyic thief 
 dashes off like one frantic with pain. 
 
 6. Is he hurt ? Likely. His is an urticated experience. 
 He is stung in the snout ! See how he seems to shake his 
 nose ! He fairly seems to sneeze again, and actually con- 
 ducts himself much like a puppy that, uninvited, has put 
 his nose into a bowl of hot soup. Ah, ha ! He is rubbing 
 his fishy proboscis against a frond of sea-lettuce. Perhaps 
 the salad may cool his burning paini Mr. Fish soon recov- 
 ers his equanimity of mind ; and it is observable that his 
 deference to Mrs. Actinia since that affair has been of a 
 decidedly distant character. 
 
 7. Generally the sea-anemone will not spread her beau- 
 tiful form in a bright light. Often, when all seemed sulky 
 and there was a general collapse, we have restored the whole 
 coterie to good-humor, simply by covering up the aquaria 
 for an hour or two, and then uncovering, when the flowers 
 will fully open. It was a great transformation to see, when 
 
LOW LIFE IN THE SEA. 61 
 
 this change took place with our favorite a fine, large, fawn- 
 colored one, obtained from Newport. When in health- 
 ful expansion it was larger than a good-sized dahlia ; and, 
 although of a subdued neutral tint, yet in form and color 
 we thought our marine flower the superior of its terrestrial 
 rival. 
 
 8. Somewhere we read the lucubration of a philosopher 
 that there was no humor in Nature, but all was serious. 
 The observation struck us as very learned, but very silly. 
 No humor in Nature ? Nonsense ! Come out from your 
 candle-light cogitations unto some real observations in the 
 sunny light of Nature's beaming face, and I can show you 
 humor. Ay, fun, if you will yes, even practical jokes. A 
 large actinia took a notion to swallow a large scallop, which 
 it had captured. After considerable stretching, it got the 
 bivalve down into its stomach, and in due time the con- 
 tained mollusk was digested. But what about the shell ? 
 Why, this it could not get it up again ! It was a double 
 disaster literally as to the scallop, and metaphorically as 
 to the polyp : both were sadly taken in. Actinia now 
 looked very serious comically so like one in an evil 
 strait. Perhaps it felt as bad as a hen-pecked subject, for 
 it had got itself around a pecten, and a pecten maximus at 
 that. If a guest at tea should swallow the tea-saucer, mat- 
 ters would look alarming. And this bolted scallop was as 
 big as a saucer. 
 
 9. The effect upon the actinia's lopks was ludicrous, 
 since there was a narrow, bulging, equatorial belt, strongly 
 significant of an undue centrifugal force in activity at that 
 place. Get rid of the saucer it could not ; so it seemed, 
 with a saucy air, to have made up its mind to resort to an 
 expediency that should fairly checkmate the strange exi- 
 gency. And this expediency was a change of base. In 
 fact, it transformed its old base entirely. Tentacles grew 
 out around it, an oval aperture appeared, and, in a word, 
 
62 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 it became a double actinia, and the large scallop-shell was 
 made a double base, and was accepted ever after as the de- 
 markation of the two individualities. No fun in Nature ? 
 If this, despite a smack of sauciness, was not a practical 
 joke of the first water, then bring out your specimen-brick, 
 old Sober-sides ! ^ 8amud Loe1emodm 
 
 STARS OF THE SEA. 
 
 1. IF the visitor to the sea-shore will go down among 
 the big rocks left bare by the retiring tide, and will lift up 
 the long sea-weeds which hang from their sides, he will 
 find the curious "star-fishes," or "sea-stars," in some cases 
 in great profusion, and clinging to the surface of the rock 
 so firmly that they often leave some of their locomotive 
 suckers attached when too quickly lifted from their places. 
 
 2. When seen out of water, the star-fish appears to have 
 no power of motion. But such is not the case, as it moves 
 along the bottom of the ocean with ease. The body so 
 gradually merges into the arms or rays that one can hardly 
 tell where the body ends and the arms begin. The rays are 
 perforated by great numbers of membranous tubes, which 
 issue from apertures. These are the feet of the animal, and 
 consist of two parts a bladder-like portion within the body, 
 and the tubular part projecting outside and terminating in 
 a disk-shaped sucker. 
 
 3. In progression the animal extends a few of its feet, 
 attaches its suckers to the rocks or stones, and then, by 
 retracting its feet, draws the body forward. The mode of 
 movement is something like that of a ship dragging its 
 anchor. The arms are usually kept on the same level, but 
 the creature has the power of raising any of them to pass 
 over an obstruction. The pace is slow, but, like that of the 
 
LOW LIFE IN THE SEA. 
 
 63 
 
 tortoise, it is sure. The back or upper part of the star-fish 
 is armed with spine-like projections, and is hard and rough, 
 
 Upper and Under View of Star-Fish. 
 
 forming a kind of crusty shell, while the under side is soft, 
 containing all the organs of life and movement. The mouth 
 
64 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 is in the center of the under side, and an eye is situated at 
 the end of each of its five rays. 
 
 4. Star-fishes are very voracious, and feed mainly on 
 mollusks. They are very destructive to oysters in many 
 places, and thus come in direct competition with man for 
 the possession of this delicious bivalve. Instead of swallow- 
 ing their food as other animals do, they turn the stomach 
 out of the mouth and over the animal which they wish to 
 devour. 
 
 5. Star-fishes have a wonderful power of reproducing 
 lost parts. If an arm is bitten off by a hungry fish, an- 
 other grows in its place ; and cases are known where all 
 the arms but one have been detached, and the remaining 
 arm and central portion of the body lived on and repro- 
 duced all the destroyed parts. 
 
 6. One of the most interesting traits about this low or- 
 ganized creature is its devotion to its young. The eggs 
 are contained in little pouches at the base of the rays ; and, 
 when emitted, the mother star, instead of abandoning them, 
 gathers them together and forms a kind of protecting arch 
 over them, like a hen brooding her chickens. If the eggs 
 are accidentally scattered, they are brought together again 
 with great care. 
 
 7. In the same localities inhabited by these star-fishes 
 we often find the " serpent stars," so called because their 
 arms are long and slender, and curl at the end like a ser- 
 pent's tail. They are also called " brittle stars," because 
 they break so easily. One curious feature about the brittle 
 stars is, that they break not only when they are exposed to 
 some outside force, but they have the power to disjoint 
 themselves, and they do so whenever they are in danger of 
 capture or destruction. This ability and disposition to 
 commit suicide is shared by no other animal with which 
 we are acquainted. But as a compensation, and so that 
 the species may not be destroyed, each part, in time, de- 
 
LOW LIFE IN THE SEA. 
 
 65 
 
 velops into a perfect animal with all the parts complete ; 
 so that the self-destruction is but one step in the process of 
 multiplication. 
 
 8. Professor Edward Forbes gives the following account 
 of his efforts to capture a Luidea, one of the rarest species 
 of brittle stars : " The first 
 
 time that I took one of 
 these creatures I succeed- 
 ed in placing it entire in 
 my boat. Not having seen 
 one before, and being ig- 
 norant of its suicidal pow- 
 ers, I spread it out on a 
 rowing-bench, the better 
 to admire its form and 
 colors. On attempting to 
 remove it for preservation, 
 to my surprise and disap- 
 pointment I found only 
 an assemblage of detached 
 members. My conservative endeavors were all neutralized 
 by its destructive exertions ; and the animal is now badly 
 represented in my cabinet by a diskless arm and an armless 
 disk. 
 
 9. " The next time I went to dredge I determined not 
 to be cheated out of my specimen a second time. I carried 
 with me a bucket of fresh water, for which the star-fishes 
 evince a great antipathy. As I hoped, a Luidea came up in 
 the dredge a most gorgeous specimen. As the animal 
 does not generally break up until it is raised to the surface 
 of the sea, I carefully and anxiously plunged my bucket 
 to a level with the dredge's mouth, and softly introduced 
 the Luidea into the fresh water. Whether the cold was too 
 much for it, or the sight of the bucket too terrific, I do not 
 know ; but in a moment it began to dissolve its corpora- 
 
 Serpent Star-Fish. 
 
66 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 tion, and I saw its limbs escaping through every mesh of 
 the dredge. In my despair, I seized the largest piece, and 
 brought up the extremity of an arm and a terminal eye^ 
 the spinous eyelids of which opened and closed with some- 
 thing exceedingly like a wink of derision." 
 
 BUILDERS IN THE OCEAN. 
 
 1. IN the ocean within tropical regions are multitudes of 
 little sea-animals resembling the sea-anemone in structure, 
 known as coral polyps. They are made up of gelatinous 
 matter, and consist of a sack-like body with a mouth at 
 one extremity, surrounded by a row of radiating tentacles. 
 These tentacles reach out and grasp the food necessary for 
 the sustenance of the animal which the water brings. Un- 
 like the sea-anemone, the coral polyp is attached at one ex- 
 tremity to the rock, and has no power of movement save 
 the swaying of the body and the reach of the tentacles. 
 
 2. This animal takes from the water not only food, but 
 it has the power of taking up the lime which is dissolved in 
 the water, and of reconverting it into a solid substance. 
 This lime is deposited in part at the bottom of its body 
 next the rock to which it is attached, and in part between 
 the tissues of the body itself. When the lime solidifies, the 
 part of the animal which incloses the hard mass dies, so 
 that coral is at once the framework and the tomb of the 
 polyp. 
 
 3. Above the solid part the animal keeps alive, so that 
 the coral is constantly growing upward and outward. A 
 polyp with a single mouth multiplies itself by a kind of 
 budding. A small bunch will appear upon the side of its 
 body, which will soon develop into a perfect animal, with 
 mouth and tentacles complete, as in the original animal. 
 
LOW LIFE IN THE SEA. 67 
 
 Successive buds will appear upon both parent and child, un- 
 til there is formed a community of polyps, each one perfect 
 in itself, yet all united by the solid secretions, and by a 
 common cavity in the softer parts. 
 
 4. This figure represents one of the immense variety of 
 coral products, showing the work of the individual polyp, 
 
 Coral Madrepore. 
 
 the relations of one polyp with another, the branching of 
 stems, and the general connections which form the com- 
 munity. The branch coral appears in hundreds of beauti- 
 ful and fantastic forms ; and, besides this, there are varie- 
 ties which are hard and compact, like the ordinary rocks 
 which we see on land. In every specimen of coral which 
 
68 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 we examine, we will find small cavities which mark the 
 work of a single polyp, and which give to coral its char- 
 acteristic appearance. 
 
 5. The coral-workers are found in all the tropical seas 
 where the water is shallow enough for their operations. 
 Although each one is tiny and insignificant, yet in the ag- 
 gregate, from their vast numbers and ceaseless workings, 
 they build up immense reefs in the ocean. Their building 
 goes on in the water from the surface to a depth of one 
 hundred and fifty feet, the hardier varieties building be- 
 low, and the tender ones carrying on the work successively 
 above. The necessary conditions in regard to depth of 
 water are found only in the vicinity of the land, and hence 
 the coral-workers are found near the coasts of continents 
 and islands in tropical regions. 
 
 6. In many parts of the ocean, and especially in por- 
 tions of the Pacific, long-continued investigation has shown 
 that the land is gradually sinking. Among the islands, 
 the low lands along the shore will first disappear, and it 
 thus happens that the coral rock constructed next to the 
 land is gradually changed to a reef at some distance from 
 the land. The coral polyps meantime continue to build up- 
 ward, keeping the coral rock nearly even with the surface, 
 and this is changed to dry land above the surface by the 
 dashing of the waves, which break off fragments and pile 
 them upon the top of the undisturbed portion of the rock. 
 
 7. Some of the islands have only sunk a little way, leav- 
 ing a reef partially or entirely inclosing it at a distance 
 varying from half a mile to several miles from the land ; 
 some have sunk so that only the tops of the hills appear 
 above the water, the coral-reef appearing now to surround 
 several islands ; and some of the islands have entirely dis- 
 appeared, leaving a ring of coral-reef inclosing a lagoon, 
 known as a lagoon-island, or atoll. 
 
 8. These circular reefs are found from one mile to 
 
LOW LIFE IN THE SEA. 
 
 69 
 
 one hundred miles in diameter. The ring is usually from 
 half a mile to one mile in width, with openings on the lee- 
 ward side, through which vessels may pass. Seeds of plants 
 
 An Atoll. 
 
 are brought to these reefs by the waves and by birds, and 
 there springs up a vegetation which covers the barren rocks 
 and converts the reefs into lands suitable for human habita- 
 tion. A coral-reef below the surface of the water, extend- 
 ing from the Caroline Islands toward Australia, is said to 
 be continuous for five thousand miles, rivaling in extent 
 the great mountain-ranges of the world. . 
 
 9. This bit of animal life, which is but little more than 
 a speck of animated jelly, is thus seen to be a necessary link 
 in the chain of causes which are slowly but surely changing 
 the whole surface of the earth. The rains fall upon the 
 land and form streams, which channel their way to the 
 sea. The water, percolating through the soil, slowly dis- 
 solves the lime of the rocks, the solution forming one of 
 the constituents of sea-water. Day by day the mountains 
 
70 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 diminish, and the continents become less. As a compensa- 
 tion to these destructive forces, the coral- workers take up 
 this solution and reconvert it into a solid form, construct- 
 ing new lands and laying the foundations for new conti- 
 nents. 
 
 CORALS, AND HOW THEY ARE STUDIED. 
 
 1. NOT very many years ago naturalists knew little 
 about corals. The reef-building corals have their home in 
 warm tropical seas, and they were chiefly known in Europe 
 through the dried specimens brought home by seafaring 
 men and given to their friends or stored in museums. 
 These were either the solid, rocky masses called coral-heads, 
 or fragments of the lighter branching kinds known as fan- 
 corals and the like. There was a vague idea that these 
 masses were originally inhabited by animals, but no one 
 knew anything of their nature, their process of growth, or 
 their appearance when alive. Even the red Mediterranean 
 coral, so famous on account of the ornaments made from it, 
 was more familiar to the fisherman who brought it up from 
 the sea, and to the jeweler who wrought it into a thousand 
 attractive forms, than to the naturalist. Indeed, there 
 were few naturalists in those days living upon the sea- shore ; 
 their homes were chiefly in the central parts of Europe, in 
 the large cities, where they found occupation as professors 
 and teachers in the universities, and they depended chiefly 
 upon museum collections for their knowledge of marine 
 animals. The existence of the host of minute creatures 
 living singly or in communities along every sea-shore was 
 hardly known to science in those days. 
 
 2. A French physician residing at Montpelier, Peyssonel 
 by name, first discovered the nature of these singular little 
 beings. Having his home near the coast of the Mediter- 
 
LOW LIFE IN THE SEA. 71 
 
 ranean, he could keep his specimens alive, and study them 
 in their natural condition. He made his investigations 
 upon corals, as well as upon what are called Hydroids. 
 This name is given to a variety of small animals most of 
 which live in communities. The facts discovered by Peys- 
 sonel were so interesting that naturalists began to feel, as 
 they had never felt before, the importance of studying these 
 seemingly insignificant creatures, and of studying them 
 alive in their natural element. Since then a vast deal has 
 been learned about them ; and it was in the course of these 
 researches that the corals were found to be allied with all 
 the radiated animals, to have essentially the same structure 
 as the sea-anemones, star-fishes, sea-urchins, and countless 
 smaller animals belonging to the group of Hydroids. 
 
 3. In learning about the corals, we ought to know some- 
 thing about the men who have taught us the most about 
 them. The first who studied the coral islands of the Pacific 
 was Charles Darwin, the great English naturalist, and he 
 wrote a charming and excellent book concerning them upon 
 his return home from the exploring expedition in the ship 
 Beagle around the world. Professor Dana, of Yale College, 
 who accompanied the United States exploring expedition, 
 made corals his especial study, and published an elaborate 
 and valuable book concerning them, which is now consid- 
 ered an authority. And, lastly, Milne-Edwards, the French 
 naturalist, though he has not had the living specimens be- 
 fore him, has taught us more than any onje else of the hard 
 parts of these animals that is, of those portions of their 
 structure which after their death are still preserved in the 
 solid masses built by them. 
 
 4. Until he came to this country, Mr. Agassiz, like 
 most European naturalists, had lived far from the sea-shore. 
 It is true that in the heart of Switzerland he had gathered 
 marine shells and corals, and had studied them ; but they 
 were the dead shells and corals of past ages, belonging to 
 
72 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 a time when the countries which now shut Switzerland 
 from the sea did not exist, and her western boundary was a 
 sea-shore where corals built their reefs and shells lived on 
 the beaches. When you learn something about the forma- 
 tion of mountains, you will see how such beaches may be 
 raised from their natural level, so that the shells of animals 
 which lived upon them are found at last among the mount- 
 ains. On arriving in America, Mr. Agassiz began the study 
 of the jelly-fishes, star-fishes, sea-anemones, and like objects 
 living along our northern shore animals which he had 
 never before had the opportunity of watching alive. And, 
 among other things, he became deeply interested in study- 
 ing the structure of the little corals found about Martha's 
 Vineyard Sound. 
 
 5. He procured living specimens, kept them alive in 
 glass jars, changing the water frequently, and watched 
 them during a whole summer, having drawings made from 
 them to show the different parts of their body, their ap- 
 pearance when open or closed, and, in short, all the details 
 of their structure. Thus it happened that he was quite 
 familiar with these corals of our coast when he was invited 
 by Professor Bache, then Superintendent of the Coast Sur- 
 vey, to make an examination of the coral-reef of Florida, 
 in order to ascertain certain facts about it, the knowledge 
 of which was important to the interests of navigation. 
 
 6. While making this survey he had, of course, the best 
 opportunity for studying the animals themselves. He ar- 
 ranged a working-room, or laboratory, at Key West, and 
 provided himself with a number of glass jars and large glass 
 tubs, some of them so wide and deep that he could keep in 
 them masses of living corals measuring two feet in diame- 
 ter, completely immersed in water. This is a necessary 
 condition. If you take a coral out of the water, he dies. 
 There are some kinds so sensitive that, merely in order to 
 take them from the sea and drop them into your jar, you 
 
LOW LIFE IN THE SEA. 
 
 73 
 
 must place your jar under the water. The instant of tran- 
 sit while you lift the coral from his natural home would 
 otherwise be sufficient to kill him. 
 
 7. Having arranged his working materials, Mr. Agassiz 
 passed weeks in studying these minute creatures. He had 
 microscopes, one or two assistants, and an artist, so that the 
 work went on with a certain rapidity. But under the most 
 favorable circumstances the progress is slow, because you 
 must wait the moods 
 
 of these capricious lit- 
 tle creatures, who will 
 hide themselves for 
 hours, drawing in all 
 their soft parts, and clos- 
 ing themselves against 
 investigation. One day 
 he sat watching a mass 
 of living porites, which 
 form the foundation of 
 the reef. A specimen 
 of this is shown in the 
 figure. Every spot on 
 the surface marks a sep- 
 arate individual, while 
 the lines disposed about 
 it like a star indicate the feelers. The animals are exceed- 
 ingly small, scarcely larger than the head of a pin. 
 
 8. On this occasion Mr. Agassiz had been looking for 
 a long time with a magnifying-glass at the minute creat- 
 ures forming this singular community, when suddenly he 
 saw a little, round, yellowish object so small that it would 
 scarcely have been noticed without the magnifier pro- 
 trude from the mouth of one of them. It was a new 
 feature ; he had never observed anything of the kind be- 
 fore, and he watched it with intense curiosity. It ad- 
 
 Coral Porite. 
 
74 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 vanced more and more, creeping slowly out, and pres- 
 ently parted from the coral stock and floated free in the 
 water, an independent being, oval in shape, a mere bubble 
 for transparency and lightness, but evidently a living thing, 
 since it moved about quite rapidly. He had seen the birth 
 of a coral animal. While he followed its motions with 
 wonder and interest, he perceived that the same process was 
 going on over the whole mass. It was a birthday in this 
 great family, for now from the countless mouths, crowding 
 the surface of the coral-head, the same little objects began 
 to appear, and were cast off like the first, till hundreds of 
 new beings floated in the water around the parent community. 
 
 9. Mr. Agassiz had chanced upon the moment of breed- 
 ing in a coral stock. He had never seen it, nor had any 
 naturalist ever seen it before ; he has never seen it since ; 
 he might watch for months, perhaps, and never see it again. 
 This is what I mean when I say that these investigations 
 are so baffling and slow. The patient waiting of years may 
 give you only one such hour. Still, the time is not lost, 
 for it is by intimate familiarity with the structure of ani- 
 mals, by constant comparison of one with another by un- 
 wearied study, in short that the observer acquires the 
 knowledge which enables him to understand some entirely 
 new fact when it suddenly presents itself. 
 
 10. Mr. Agassiz was unable to follow the history of his 
 new brood beyond its first stages, because it was impossible 
 to maintain the conditions necessary to rear them, and they 
 soon died. But having ascertained that the young corals 
 begin their existence as free, independent beings, and re- 
 semble the young of the soft-bodied radiates, so much is 
 known of the latter, and of later stages in the life of the 
 corals, that it was easy to put these facts together and make 
 out the whole story. 
 
 11. Suppose such a being to be born into the sea and 
 no doubt they are cast in swarms from the coral stocks into 
 
LOW LIFE IN TSE SEA. Y5 
 
 the water surrounding a reef. Independent and able to 
 move about freely at first, it presently selects a suitable 
 spot, and attaches itself to the rocks or to the sea-bottom 
 by one end. This end flattens and adheres to the ground 
 just as in the sea-anemone, fitting itself gradually to the 
 surface on which it rests, while the upper end spreads and 
 becomes a little depressed at the center. That depression 
 marks where the mouth is presently to be, and it deepens 
 until it becomes a hole, and feelers or tentacles gradually 
 develop around it. 
 
 12. And now begins that phase in the life of a coral 
 animal by which it differs from all the other radiates, 
 and is enabled, notwithstanding its diminutive size, to play 
 so important a part in the history of the world. There are 
 hard particles of lime in its substance, and these accumu- 
 late, first, at the base of the body where it is attached to 
 the ground, so that it becomes firm and immovable, after- 
 ward on the outside wall, and between the partitions. Now 
 the whole has a solid frame, the only parts of the little coral 
 which remain soft being the stomach within the body, the 
 mouth, and feelers. These latter retain their flexible con- 
 tractile character through life, and decompose when the 
 animal dies. 
 
 13. There is one fact in the nature of the coral animals 
 which affects their choice of a resting-place, and has a di- 
 rect bearing on the strength and solidity of the structures 
 they build. The more compact kinds, those which grow 
 closely together and form the rounded, rocky masses known 
 as coral-heads, like the deep sea. They settle at a depth of 
 ten or twelve fathoms, while the lighter branching kinds 
 prefer shallower waters. Thus it happens that the founda- 
 tion of a reef is always laid by those coral animals which, 
 from their very nature and mode of growth, secure the 
 soundest basis for the structure ; while the upper part is 
 built by the lighter branching kinds. 
 
76 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 14. We have seen the birth of an independent coral. 
 But these animals have two ways of multiplying : one by 
 which new communities are founded, another by which they 
 spread and increase. A little germ, like the one described 
 above, having undergone the changes I have mentioned, and 
 assumed his permanent character, begins to put out little 
 buds from either side, which grow into new beings exactly 
 like himself, and multiply in their turn, till the community 
 which he has founded is numbered by hundreds, thousands, 
 nay, millions of distinct beings. All the members of this 
 innumerable family are organically connected ; that is, the 
 cavities of their bodies open into each other, so that they 
 lead a common life, the food absorbed by each one circu- 
 lating through the whole mass, and nourishing all the rest. 
 
 15. There is a great diiference in the mode of budding 
 among the different kinds of coral. Some spread horizon- 
 tally, budding from the base and pushing outward. In 
 others, each animal gradually widens toward the summit as 
 it grows, assuming a sort of trumpet-shape, and then divides, 
 so that where there was but one mouth there are now two. 
 All the curious and fantastic kinds of coral which we find 
 in cabinets are the results of these different methods of bud- 
 ding. The study of the dead specimens, however, can con- 
 vey a very inadequate idea of the beauty and wonder of the 
 submarine wall, and of the living shrubbery which crowns 
 its summit, as seen upon the reefs of Florida. 
 
 Mrs. Elizabeth C. Agassiz. 
 
 THE CORAL GROVE. 
 
 1. DEEP in the wave is a coral grove, 
 
 Where the purple mullet and gold-fish rove, 
 Where the sea-flower spreads its leaves of blue, 
 That never are wet with the falling dew, 
 
LOW LIFE IN THE SEA. Y? 
 
 But in bright and changeful beauty shine 
 Far down in the green and glassy brine. 
 
 2. The floor is of sand, like the mountain's drift, 
 
 And the pearl-shells spangle the flinty snow ; 
 From coral rocks the sea-plants lift 
 
 Their boughs where the tides and billows flow ; 
 The water is calm and still below, 
 
 For the winds and waves are absent there, 
 And the sands are bright as the stars that glow 
 
 In the motionless fields of upper air. 
 
 3. There, with its waving blade of green, 
 
 The sea-flag streams through the silent water, 
 And the crimson leaf of the dulse is seen 
 
 To blush like a banner bathed in slaughter. 
 There, with a light and easy motion, 
 
 The fan-coral sweeps through the clear, deep sea ; 
 And the yellow and scarlet tufts of ocean 
 
 Are bending, like corn on the upland lea. 
 
 4. And life in rare and beautiful forms 
 
 Is sporting amid those bowers of stone, 
 And is safe, when the wrathful spirit of storms 
 
 Has made the top of the wave his own . 
 And when the ship from his fury flies, 
 
 Where the myriad voices of ocean roar, 
 When the wind-god frowns in the murky skies, 
 
 And demons are waiting the wreck on the shore 
 Then, far below in the peaceful sea, 
 
 The purple mullet and gold-fish rove, 
 There the waters murmur tranquilly 
 
 Through the bending twigs of the coral grove. 
 
 Percival. 
 
78 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 CRABS AND THEIR WAYS. 
 
 1. WITH one's eyes kept open, how very much there is 
 to excite interest in a summer stroll beside the sea ! Ma- 
 rine life the creatures that represent the life-zone that 
 belts or fringes the great murmuring world of waters is so 
 peculiar, some exquisitely beautiful, as the sea-anemones, 
 others droll and grotesque, as the great class known as the 
 Crustacea. The tide is out. See that bird with bill curv- 
 ing upward. A beautiful functional adaptation it is for 
 with it small stones are turned over so deftly, and thus its 
 food, the sheltered worms, are exposed. It is the avocet 
 
 2. So we turn avocet, using a stick in the operation. 
 Ah ! we have disturbed a poor polydactyled refugee in his 
 retreat. See how threateningly he snaps at us his two 
 pairs of pincers like formidable blacksmith-tongs. What a 
 crusty-looking fellow he is ! Now he is off, running side- 
 wise ; for they can go "forward, backward, and oblique." 
 There is speed enough, but the gait is so comical. But 
 crabs are given to flank movements. We determine to try 
 one on him ; so with the stick just touching him laterally, 
 and a fillip, and he is on his back . 
 
 3. At this point, Frank, who is always facetious, and 
 who had just been saying that he had come from the bowl- 
 ing green (he meant alley), says we have knocked the poor 
 fellow off his pins, and that it was a ten-strike, adding for 
 our enlightenment, " Don't you see that crab stands on ten 
 pins ? " Now, it so happens in this connection that it is 
 just on this "ten-pin" arrangement that the naturalist 
 founds his division Decapoda as one of the three orders of 
 the great class Crustacea. The decapods, or ten-footed, 
 include the crabs and lobsters, and rank the highest in 
 their class. 
 
 4. All crustaceans exuviate, or cast their hard, shelly 
 
LOW LIFE IN THE SEA, 
 
 79 
 
 covering at least once a year. It has been said quite graph- 
 ically that "the new integument is so soft and yielding, 
 and the muscles in such a flaccid condition, that the limbs 
 are drawn through the small openings at the joints, much 
 as a sack nearly filled with some fluid may be drawn 
 through an opening much smaller than the sack itself." 
 It should not be forgotten, however, that the neck in 
 the great claws, or nippers, is crossed by thin, knife-like 
 blades, or plates of shell ; and it is certain that in draw- 
 ing out the thumbs 
 they are cut into long 
 shreds, which doubt- 
 less, when drawn out, 
 come together imme- 
 diately and heal. 
 
 5. As giving a 
 peep at the private 
 life of the European 
 crabs, let us skim off 
 the cream of a para- 
 graph from Gosse. 
 
 The naturalist has been exploring the rocks on the English 
 coast, and says : " Peering into a hole, I saw a fine large 
 crab. I pulled him out, and carried him home. There 
 came out with him the claw of a crab of similar size, but 
 quite soft, which I supposed might have been carried in 
 there by my gentleman to eat. After I had got him out 
 it was a male I looked in, and saw another at the bottom 
 of the hole. 
 
 6. "Arrived at home, I found that I had left my 
 pocket-knife at the mouth of the crab-hole. I returned ; 
 the crab had not moved. I drew it out. But lo ! it was a 
 soft crab, the shell being of the consistence of wet parch- 
 ment. It was a female, too, and had lost one claw. What, 
 then, are we to infer from this association ? Do the com- 
 
 Edible Crab. 
 
80 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 mon crabs live in pairs ? And does one keep guard at the 
 mouth of the cavern, while its consort is undergoing its 
 change of skin ? I have no doubt that the claw of its mate 
 was unintentionally torn off in its efforts to effect some 
 hold, when resisting my tugs in dragging him out." 
 
 7. But it is in America, after all, that the habits of 
 crabs at their time of exuviation should be the best known. 
 The soft-shell crab is condemned as food in Europe, it 
 being considered as in a sickly state at that time, just as 
 birds are when moulting. And may not this be so ? How- 
 ever, in this country the procuring of the soft-shell crab is 
 a great and profitable industry. Hence, any intelligent 
 "crabber" knows a good deal of their habits. For many 
 years we knew an old fisherman. He was quite illiterate, 
 but of more than the average intelligence of his class. He 
 was an old "crabber," too. As he long supplied my family 
 with fish, I often got him into conversation. 
 
 8. "I hev ketched soft crabs for market many a year. 
 The crab sheds every year, chiefly in early summer. At 
 that time the he one is mighty kind to his mate. When 
 she shows signs of shedding, the he one comes along, and 
 gets on the she one's back, quite tenderly like, and entirely 
 protects her from all enemies, whether of fishes or of their 
 own kind. She is now getting ready to shed, and is called 
 a shedder. Soon the back begins to burst nigh to the tail. 
 She is then called a buster.* The he one is then very anx- 
 ious to find a good place for her, either by digging a hole 
 in the sand or mud, or else looking up a good cover under 
 some sea-weed. Here he brings her, all the time hovering 
 nigh, and doing battle for her, if anything comes along. 
 She now and it only takes a few minutes withdraws 
 from the old shell. And she comes out perfect in every 
 part, even to the inside of the hairs, the eyes, and long 
 feelers, almost like the whiskers of a cat. At the first tide 
 she is fat, and the shell is soft, just like a thin skin. She 
 
LOW LIFE IN THE SEA. 81 
 
 is then called a soft-shell, and it's the first- tiders that bring 
 the high price. At the second tide she is perfectly watery 
 and transparent, and is then called a buckler ; but she is 
 not worth much then. At the third tide she is again a 
 hard-shell, as she always was, only bigger." 
 
 9. As mentioned, our edible crab literally backs out of 
 the shell ; that is, it comes out at an opening behind. 
 The Limulus, or horseshoe-crab, acts directly contrariwise. 
 The shell cracks open at the front, and the animal emerges 
 forward, instead of from behind, or backward. In fact, 
 the structure of the shell makes this the only possible 
 mode. A few years ago the officers superintending the 
 building of the fort at Sandy Hook became greatly in- 
 terested at witnessing this exuviation of the shell of Li- 
 mulus Polyphemus, and they declared that the fellow 
 was spewing himself out of his mouth ! 
 
 Rev. Samuel Lockwood. 
 
 FIDDLERS UPON THE SHORE. 
 
 1. THE fiddler-crab is truly a queer customer. Some 
 call him the soldier-crab ; and certainly, if agility and 
 seeming courage make up the martial element, then a val- 
 orous little fellow he is. The males have one hand enor- 
 mously large. This, when closed upon the front of the 
 body, is suggestive of the attitude of a violinist hence we 
 boys used to call it the fiddler-crab. The naturalist names 
 it Gelasimus vocans, a name highly expressive of its attri- 
 butes. Some have rendered the words "calling-crab." 
 This is too far short of their significance. The words are 
 intended to indicate both the action of the crab and its 
 effect upon the beholder. When alarmed, they go scuttling 
 over the mud to their burrows, the males each holding his 
 
82 
 
 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 great claw aloft, and waving it in a manner that looks 
 ludicrously like beckoning, or challenging, and at the same 
 time threatening, and this, too, while in full and masterly 
 retreat. 
 
 2. Each seems, as it might be, a Liliputian Falstaff ; 
 and, if rendered in Homeric strain, Gelasimus vocans 
 would signify the " laughter-provoking challenger." In- 
 deed, Gelasimus never sees anybody, whether great or small, 
 but forth he hurls his challenge in pantomime, for up goes 
 that threatening huge member, so that its owner appears 
 to be habitually bent on something high-handed. As 
 this swaying of the great fiddle-like claw seems to start and 
 
 direct or animate 
 the retreat, it is lu- 
 dicrously suggestive 
 of a musical conduc- 
 tor beating time by 
 swaying a bass-viol 
 instead of his Mton, 
 the effect of his ec- 
 centricity being to 
 cause a stampede of 
 all the fiddlers. 
 
 3. This crab ex- 
 cavates holes in the earth, a male and a female occupying 
 one hole. Into this retreat it retires with astonishing ce- 
 lerity when alarmed, and, having gained its hole, it liter- 
 ally barricades the entrance, by turning round and closing 
 it up with its big hand, leaving just room enough for the 
 little keen eyes to keep a sharp lookout at whatever may 
 be passing. In these burrows they spend the winter, prob- 
 ably in hibernation. More than once, when pursuing the 
 fiddler, who, with fiddle aloft, ran swiftly, has the writer 
 had the luxury of a slip and fall on the slimy clay of Fid- 
 dler Town, as we called a certain place in the salt-meadows, 
 
 Fiddler- Crab. 
 
LOW LIFE IN THE SEA. 83 
 
 where these fiddlers lived. Those mishaps were really en- 
 joyable that is, to those who looked on. 
 
 Rev. Samuel Lockwood. 
 
 SEA-HERMITS AND THEIR HOMES. 
 
 1. THERE is a group of crabs which has a curious habit, 
 made necessary on account of the unprotected condition 
 of the hinder part of their bodies. This is entirely naked ; 
 hence these crabs occupy the empty shells of sea-snails, 
 winkles, and such univalves. It is called the hermit-crab, 
 or Pagurus. The most common species on the Atlantic 
 coast is the little hermit. A pair of nippers at the ex- 
 tremity of the tail, or naked abdomen,, enables it to grip 
 the columella, or upper part of the inside of the shell that 
 it occupies, thus keeping itself snugly in place. As the 
 crab increases in size by growth, it has to change its home 
 for one more roomy ; and this leads to some remarkable 
 exhibitions of its instincts. The sight, which we have 
 often beheld, is one of exciting interest. Watch, now, if 
 you please. 
 
 2. Here is a fat little hermit-crab, whose domicile, like 
 a strait-jacket, has become decidedly uncomfortable, and 
 he is somewhat distracted about it. He is out a house- 
 hunting that is a literal fact. See, he has found an empty 
 shell. It is not so handsome as the one he now occupies, 
 but it is a little larger. Look, how he almost lifts it up 
 among his ten feet, every one of which is an interested 
 inspector, as each must bear its part in sustaining the 
 establishment. Now he rolls it round and round, all 
 over and over, delicately manipulating its sculpture occa- 
 sionally ; he is not only testing its specific gravity like a 
 philosopher, but also seems to have an eye to appearances. 
 
84 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 Now comes the most essential, the inspection of the inte- 
 rior. Will it fit ? That is the chief consideration. He 
 inserts his longest finger, and thoroughly probes the whole 
 matter. One more trial and now it seems that the an- 
 tennae, or feelers, enter into the consultation. And what 
 an amount of feeling deliberation does this step involve ! 
 Well, the thing appears to be satisfactory. It is evidently 
 decided that the new house will answer. 
 
 Hermit- Grab. 
 
 3. And now comes the most trying time of all for 
 "moving" is a trying time. But Pagurus is actuated by 
 considerations that fall not to the lot of migratory mor- 
 tals of the bipedal sort. His accountability is of the ten- 
 talent order. With his eyes he surveys the entire situation. 
 What ! Yes, it is so ! He has moved, and settled, and 
 has got the house "all to rights." The whole thing was 
 done in the twinkling of an eye. It vacates the old house, 
 whisks its tail round, and enters the new one backward, as 
 if shot into it from a gun. In fact, unless watching in- 
 tently, the whole movement will elude the eye, like a trick 
 
LOW LIFE IN THE SEA. 85 
 
 of legerdemain. And the cause is not far to seek. If that 
 soft, nude, defenseless body were exposed but for an in- 
 stant, it might become the prey of some darting fish. 
 
 4. These hermit-crabs are highly pugnacious. We once 
 took a pair of them that we suspected of being anxious to 
 change their houses. They were put in a vessel of sea- 
 water, and, full in sight of them, was placed an empty 
 winkle-shell, which we supposed was of the right size. 
 How they did fight for it ! It was a battle for life. One 
 succumbed at last, and died. The survivor coolly sur- 
 veyed his victim, and then surveyed the new premises. 
 After this, he promptly entered into possession ; and then, 
 pitiful to relate, he fell to eating his defunct comrade. Oh, 
 the cannibal ! The cut given of a hermit-crab shows ac- 
 tinea, or zoophite, upon the shell. These are sometimes 
 called sea-anemones, and animal flowers, on account of 
 their being real animals, with a flower-like form. 
 
 Rev. Samuel Lockwood. 
 
PART IV. 
 HIGHER LIFE IN WATERS. 
 
 THE DEVIL-FISH AND HIS KIN. 
 
 1. THE cuttle-fish has been an object of curiosity al- 
 most from time immemorial, both on account of its strange 
 form and its habits. It seems to be a connecting link be- 
 tween the fishes and the lower forms of life in the waters. 
 Like the sea-anemone, it consists of a sack-like body with 
 tentacles, only with the cuttle-fish the body has attained a 
 much greater consistency, and is provided with a bony sub- 
 stance known as cuttle-fish shell, and the tentacles are de- 
 veloped into ten long leathery arms, provided with suckers 
 which can attach themselves to any hard substance. Just 
 where the arms are attached to the body are two large, 
 staring eyes, which give to the fish a very sinister appear- 
 ance. 
 
 2. The cuttle-fish seeks its prey in the open sea, and is 
 very voracious. Fishermen dread its presence in their nets, 
 as it bites and mutilates other fish savagely. It is provided 
 with a receptacle containing a dark-colored fluid, which it 
 discharges when attacked, coloring the water, and so render- 
 ing itself invisible to its enemy. This fluid is sepia, from 
 which sepia or India ink is made. The cuttle-fish some- 
 times attains the size of three feet in length. 
 
 3. A much more formidable member of this family of 
 
HIGHER LIFE IN WATERS. 
 
 87 
 
 fishes is the octopus, or devil-fish proper. This animal 
 consists of a mouth and stomach combined, with usually 
 eight, but sometimes ten long arms. The eyes are like 
 those of the cuttle-fish. It can readily be seen how this 
 creature seizes its prey. The arms are tough and leathery, 
 and can not be easily cut with a knife. They are furnished 
 their whole length with two rows of perfect sucking disks, 
 or some two thousand air-pumps. The edges are sharp 
 and saw-like, burying themselves in the flesh of their vic- 
 tims. With some of their arms attached to a rock, they 
 throw out the oth- 
 ers as lassos, and 
 while in this posi- 
 tion scarcely any- 
 thing can resist their 
 force. 
 
 4. The long ap- 
 pendages are used 
 both as arms antl 
 legs. All the octo- 
 pods swim freely at 
 will, and associate 
 in numbers, but the 
 larger ones, as they 
 become older, fly 
 
 from community life and retire into the clefts and hol- 
 lows of the rocks which have been worn by the waves, gen- 
 erally in places only a few feet below the level of low water. 
 There, with one arm clasped close to the wall of its dwell- 
 ing, the watchful savage extends the others, alert, like the 
 boa-constrictor, for the approach of prey, and no less dead- 
 ly in the crushing force of its folds. Its movements in 
 seizing its victims are swift as an arrow. 
 
 5. When the animal is swimming, its long tentacles 
 would be in the way if extended or left pendent, so they 
 
 The Octopus. 
 
88 
 
 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 are drawn close alongside and allowed to float behind, 
 where they act as the tail to a kite. Motion in the water 
 is gained by drawing in and expelling water from the loco- 
 motory tube. The octopus thus swims backward instead 
 of forward. Its food consists of crustaceans, fishes, and 
 other mollusks ; every kind of animal, in fact, which 
 comes within its reach. But it disdains carrion flesh, 
 and feeds only on living victims. The general life of the 
 octopus, as of the other cuttle-fish, is about five or six 
 years ; and it lays eggs, which are large, and generally 
 found in clusters. Fishermen call them sea-grapes. 
 
 6. The locomotion of the devil-fish is as easy on land as 
 in the water. They have been known frequently to run 
 
 up perpendicular 
 cliffs, two hundred 
 feet high, as easily 
 as the fly runs up a 
 wall, the machinery 
 "of attachment be- 
 ing very similar. 
 They are said to 
 move as fast on 
 land as a man can 
 run, and they fre- 
 quently pursue their prey out of the sea, though on the 
 land they are far more timid than in the water. The vul- 
 nerable portion of the octopus is the neck, and fishermen 
 and others, who know their habits when attacked, always 
 strive, if possible, to seize them by the throttle-valve, when 
 they are easily killed. This is comparatively easy on land, 
 but nearly impossible in the water. 
 
 7. The octopus grows to an immense size, when it 
 merits its name of devil-fish. Some years since one was 
 cast ashore at Newfoundland with arms fifty feet in length. 
 But the largest one of which we have an authentic account 
 
 Octopus Running. 
 
HIGHER LIFE IN WATERS. 89 
 
 was the one encountered near the Madeira Islands by the 
 French steamer Alecton. This monster was estimated to 
 be fifty feet long without reckoning its eight formidable 
 arms, covered with suckers, and about twenty feet in cir- 
 cumference at its largest part, the head terminating in 
 many arms of enormous size, the other extremity in two 
 fleshy lobes or fins of great size, the weight of the whole 
 being estimated at four thousand pounds ; the flesh was 
 soft, glutinous, and of reddish-brick color. 
 
 8. The commandant, wishing in the interests of science 
 to secure the monster, actually engaged it in battle. Nu- 
 merous shots were aimed at it, but the balls traversed its 
 flaccid and glutinous mass without causing it any vital in- 
 jury. But after one of these attacks the waves were ob- 
 served to be covered with foam and blood, and, singular 
 thing, a strong odor of musk was inhaled by the spectators. 
 This musk odor is peculiar to many of the cephalopods. 
 
 9. The musket-shots not having produced the desired 
 results, harpoons were employed, but they took no hold on 
 the soft, impalpable flesh of the marine monster. When it 
 escaped from the harpoon, it dived under the ship, and 
 came up again at the other side. They succeeded at last 
 in getting the harpoon to hold, and in passing a bowling 
 hitch round the posterior part of the animal. But when 
 they attempted to hoist it out of the water the rope pene- 
 trated deeply into the flesh, and separated it into two parts, 
 the head with the arms and tentacles dropping into the sea 
 and making off, while the fins and posterior parts were 
 brought on board ; they weighed about forty pounds. 
 
 10. Rev. Mr. Harvey, of Newfoundland, published an 
 account a few years ago of the adventure of two fishermen 
 in Conception Bay. Their boat passed near what appeared 
 to be a floating bale of goods, which was presumed to be 
 flotsam from some wreck. One of them struck the mass 
 with the boat-hook, when it instantly opened, like a gigan- 
 
90 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 tic umbrella without a handle, and a huge head, with fiery, 
 threatening eyes that protruded ominously, and a long, 
 curved beak, raised itself from the surface. While they 
 stood paralyzed with fear, the monster flung at them a 
 tentacle of livid, corpse-like hue, thirty feet long, which 
 went far beyond the boat, or they would have been en- 
 gulfed. 
 
 11. One of the fishermen seized a sharp hatchet, and, 
 by a well-directed blow, severed this terrible lasso before 
 another could be used, on which the savage apparition of 
 the sea swiftly darted backward, and was lost to sight 
 amid the ink-like discharge with which it blackened the 
 waters. The tentacle was given to Mr. Harvey, and the 
 fishermen avowed that there must have been at least ten 
 feet more of it next the body of their assailant. The col- 
 ored discharge would indicate that this monster was a kind 
 of cuttle-fish rather than an octopus. 
 
 12. These terrible animals draw their prey to their for- 
 midable mouths and swallow it whole, where it is slowly 
 digested as in the case of the boa. The soft elastic mate- 
 rial of their body admits of an almost indefinite amount of 
 extension, so that prey of almost any size is easily disposed 
 of. Nature here, as elsewhere, however, has its compen- 
 sations. All the cuttle-fish are the favorite food of the 
 whale, the dolphin, and the porpoise. Michelet says : 
 "These lords of the ocean are so delicate in their taste 
 that they eat only the heads and arms, which are easy of 
 digestion. The coasts are frequently covered with thou- 
 sands of the mutilated cuttle-fish. The porpoises take 
 most incredible bounds, at first, to frighten them, and 
 afterward to run them down. After making a meal, they 
 seem to express their satisfaction by a series of gymnas- 
 tics." 
 
HIGHER LIFE IN WATERS. 91 
 
 SHOOTING AND ANGLING FISHES. 
 
 1. THE Eton boy hastening home for the holidays pro- 
 vides himself with a tin tube and a pocketful of peas. We 
 beg the present Etonian's pardon ; we should have said he 
 used to do so formerly, when there were boys at Eton, 
 and, backed by some skill as a marksman, therewith con- 
 stituted himself an intolerable nuisance to every village 
 and vehicle he passed on his road home. The Macoushee 
 Indian makes a better use of his blow-tube ; he puffs small 
 arrows and hardened balls of clay through it with unerring 
 aim, doing great execution among birds and other small 
 game. 
 
 2. Now, the chsetodon, which is an inhabitant of the 
 Eastern seas from Ceylon to Japan, rather, perhaps, resem- 
 bles the Macoushee Indian than the Eton boy, though his 
 gun, shooting-tube, or blow-pipe, or whatever it may be 
 termed, is a natural one. His nose is really a kind of 
 "beak," through which he has the power of propelling a 
 small drop of water with some force and considerable ac- 
 curacy of aim. Near the edge of the water is perhaps a 
 spray of weed, a twig, or a tuft of grass ; on it sits a fly, 
 making its toilet in the watery mirror below. Eostratus 
 advances cautiously under the fly ; then he stealthily pro- 
 jects his tube from the water, takes a deadly aim, and pop 
 goes the watery bullet. 
 
 " Poor insect, what a little day of sunny bliss is thine I" 
 Knocked over by the treacherous missile, drenched, stunned, 
 half drowned, she drops from her perch into the waters be- 
 low, to be sucked in by the chaetodon. 
 
 3. But if we have fishes who can shoot their game, we 
 have also fishes who can fish for it ; ay, and fish for it with 
 rod and line, and bait, as deftly as ever angler coaxed 
 gudgeons from the ooze of the New River or salmon from 
 
92 
 
 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 the flashing torrent of the Spey. Witness this clumsy- 
 looking monster the fishing-frog, or angler-fish. 
 
 The Angrier-Fish. 
 
 4. Frightful and hideous is he, according to our vulgar 
 notions of loveliness, which the lophius possibly might 
 disagree with. The beast is sometimes five or six feet in 
 length, with an enormous head in proportion to the rest 
 of its body, and with huge sacks like bag-nets attached to its 
 gill-covers, in which it stows its victims ; and what a cav 
 ernous mouth ! 
 
 5. Surely a fish so repulsive, and with a capacity so 
 vast and apparently omnivorous, would frighten from its 
 
HIGHER LIFE IN WATERS. 93 
 
 neighborhood all other fish, and would, if its powers of 
 locomotion were in accordance with its size, be the terror 
 of the seas to fish smaller than itself ; but Providence 
 knoweth how to temper its gifts, and the lophius is but 
 an indifferent swimmer, and is too clumsy to support a 
 predatory existence by the fleetness of its motions. How, 
 then, is this huge capacity satisfied ? Mark those two 
 elongated tentacles which spring from the creature's nose, 
 and how they taper away like veritable fishing-rods. To 
 the end of them is attached, by a line or a slender fila- 
 ment, a small glittering morsel of membrane. This is the 
 bait. The hooks are set in the mouth of the fisherman 
 down below. But how is the animal to induce the fish to 
 venture within reach of those formidable hooks ? 
 
 6. Now mark this perfect feat of angling. How does 
 the Thames fisherman attract the gudgeons ? They are 
 shy ; he must not let them see him, yet he must draw 
 them to him, and he does it by stirring up the mud upon 
 the bottom. "In that cloud of mud is food," say the 
 gudgeons. Then the angler plies his rod and bait. Just 
 so the lophius proceeds, and he too stirs up the mud with 
 his fins and tail. This serves not only to hide him, but to 
 attract the fish. Then he plies his rod, and the glittering 
 bait waves to and fro like a living insect glancing through 
 the turbid water. The gudgeons, or rather gobies, rush 
 toward it. " Beware ! beware !" But when did gudgeon 
 attend to warning yet ? Suddenly, up rises the cavernous 
 Nemesis from the cloud below, and "snap !" the gobies are 
 entombed in the bag-net, thence to be transferred to the 
 lophius's stomach, when there are enough of them collected 
 to form a satisfactory mouthful. 
 
 7. The angler-fish is not left entirely undisturbed to 
 carry on his work of destruction. A kind of eel ensconces 
 himself in the branchial sack of the angler and makes it 
 his permanent home, levying a toll upon all food which the 
 
94 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 angler catches, and at the same time resists the efforts of 
 the angler to convert him into food. Henceforth the 
 angler is obliged to fish for two, and, in case of scarcity, 
 it is not the eel that will first suffer from hunger. 
 
 Francis Francis. 
 
 HUNTING-FISHES. 
 
 1. MANY fish hunt their prey singly, as the pike and 
 trout, and the way in which a large fish of these kinds will 
 course and run down a smaller fish resembles nothing so 
 much as a greyhound coursing a hare. Now the unhappy 
 little fish turns from side to side in its efforts to escape, 
 while its pursuer bends and turns to every motion, follow- 
 ing close upon its track, and cutting him off exactly as the 
 greyhound does the hare. Now he rushes among a shoal 
 of lus' fellows, hoping to be lost sight of in the crowd and 
 confusion ; but the grim foe behind is not to be baffled or 
 deceived, and, singling him out, and scattering the small 
 fry, which fly in all directions, ruffling the surface of the 
 water like a sudden squall of wind in their fright, follows 
 up his victim with unerring instinct. In an agony of ter- 
 ror, the poor little quarry springs again and again fran- 
 tically from the water, only to fall at last, exhausted, into 
 the gaping jaws of his ravenous foe, who, griping his body 
 crosswise, sails steadily away to his lair, there to devour his 
 prey at leisure. 
 
 2. Some fish hunt their food, like dogs and wolves, in 
 packs. The bonito hunting the flying-fish is an example. 
 But the fiercest, most savage, and resolute of all the 
 leagued banditti of the deep is the pirai of South Amer- 
 ica. So savage are these little pirates that, when their size 
 and apparent capabilities are taken into consideration, their 
 feats of destructiveness are little short of the marvelous. 
 
HIGHER LIFE IN WATERS. 95 
 
 3. Let us take the portrait of this fish. Doubtless the 
 reader figures to himself a fish of "a lean and hungry 
 look," a very Oassius of a fish, with the Ian tern -jaws of a 
 pike. But, in fact, the pirai is somewhat aldermanic and 
 like a bream in figure, with a fighting-looking kind of 
 nose, and a wondrously expressive eye. The jaw is square, 
 powerful, and locked into a very large head for the size of 
 the fish ; and that is a fat, plump head too, but radiated 
 over with strong bone and gristle. The teeth ah ! they 
 would condemn him anywhere, for here is a fish sixteen 
 inches long with the teeth almost of a shark. 
 
 4. This voracious fish is found plentifully in all the 
 rivers in Guiana, and is dreaded by every other inhabit- 
 ant or visitant of the river. Their jaws are so strong that 
 they are able to bite off a man's finger or toe. They at- 
 tack fish of ten times their own weight, and devour all but 
 the head. They begin with the tail, and the fish, being 
 left without the chief organ of motion, is devoured with 
 ease, several going to participate of the meal. Indeed, 
 there is scarcely any animal which it will not attack, man 
 not excepted. Large alligators which have been wounded 
 on the tail afford a fair chance of satisfying their hunger, 
 and even the toes of this formidable animal are not free 
 from their attacks. The feet of ducks and geese, where 
 they are kept, are almost invariably cut off, and young 
 ones devoured altogether. In these places it is not safe to 
 bathe, or even to wash clothes, many cases having occurred 
 of fingers and toes being cut off by them. 
 
 5. Of course, the lines which are used to capture them 
 have to be armed with metal, to prevent their being cut 
 through. Their voracity is marvelous, and any bait will 
 attract them the instant it is thrown into the water. Pre- 
 caution is necessary, however, when the fish is lifted out 
 of the water, or it will inflict serious wounds in its 
 struggles. The fisherman, therefore, has a small bludgeon 
 
96 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 ready, with which he breaks their skulls as soon as they 
 are caught. 
 
 6. Some fish-hunters use other fish to hunt their game, 
 as we use pointers and setters, such as the little pilot-fish, 
 which leads the huge shark to his prey ; though this has 
 been disputed, because the pilot-fish has been known to 
 follow and play about a vessel just as it does usually about 
 the body of a shark. The probability is, that the pilot-fish 
 is a species of parasite or diner-out, who will make particu- 
 lar friends with any big person who will feed him, and no 
 doubt would find food in the refuse cast from the vessel, 
 even as he would from the fragments torn off by the shark 
 when feeding on any large body. Doubtless, too, there is 
 a certain amount of protection obtained from consorting 
 with monsters against other predaceous fish. The fact of 
 the pilot-fish conducting the shark to his prey has been 
 disputed, but veritable instances related by eye-witnesses 
 leave no doubt that at times it does fulfill this office for 
 the shark. Nor is there anything singular in the fact. 
 The pilot-fish is on the lookout for his own dinner, proba- 
 bly, but will not venture on it until his protector has 
 helped himself. We have numerous similar instances both 
 in human and in beast life. 
 
 7. The reader, possibly, has never witnessed a skall in 
 Scandinavia. It is a species of hunt in which a number 
 of sportsmen take in a wide space of ground where game 
 exists, drawing a cordon around it, narrowing their cir- 
 cle little by little, and driving the game together into 
 a flock, when they shoot them down. Now there are fish 
 who hunt their game in the same way. Mr. Lonee, while 
 fishing off the Channel Islands, witnessed a skall of this 
 kind. His attention was called to several porpoises, which 
 seemed to be engaged in a water-frolic, swimming after one 
 another in a circle, and he pointed it out to Peter, the fish- 
 erman who accompanied him. 
 
HIGHER LIFE IN WATERS. 97 
 
 8. "That is no frolic, but very sober earnest for the 
 sand-eels," said Peter. "Now," he continued, "I will 
 show you a sight which I have only chanced to see two 
 or three times in my life, and you are therefore very lucky 
 to have the opportunity of seeing it at all. There is a 
 great shoal of sand-eels yonder, and the porpoises are 
 driving them into a mass ; for you see the sand-eel is only 
 a very small morsel for a porpoise, and to pick them up 
 one by one would not suit Mr. Porpoise, who would get 
 hungry again by the time he had done feeding on them 
 singly ; so they drive the eels into a thick crowd, in order 
 that when they make a dash at them they may get a dozen 
 or two at a mouthful. But as we want some for bait, we 
 will join in the hunt." 
 
 9. They edged down to the spot until they were within 
 the circle. The porpoises, following one another pretty 
 closely, were swimming around, now rising to the surface, 
 now diving below, and gradually contracting the circle. 
 The terrified sand-eels were driven closer and closer, and 
 in their fear came to the surface all about the boat, and, 
 just as two or three porpoises made a dash into the crowd, 
 snapping right and left, the fishermen plunged their nets 
 into the water, and brought them up quite full of these 
 little fish. The shoal was soon dispersed, but the skill with 
 which the skall had been conducted looked very much like 
 
 reasoning. Frauds Francis. 
 
 FISHES ARMED WITH LIGHTNING. 
 
 1. AMONG other powers, offensive and defensive, com- 
 manded by fish and men alike, is the very remarkable one 
 of electricity. Several species of fish are literally armed 
 with lightning, which they can discharge at enemies or 
 
 prey with fatal effect. These animated electric batteries 
 5 
 
98 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 are so powerful that even the shark, the terror of all the fin- 
 ny tribe, after one encounter never seeks another, but gives 
 them a wide berth. As all varieties of the electric fishes 
 live quietly, and usually in the mud in shallow waters, they 
 would be peculiarly exposed to the attacks of the larger fish, 
 but their power of self-defense renders them invulnerable. 
 For purposes other than defense it is not certainly known 
 how this peculiar apparatus serves the fish, but the most 
 reasonable hypothesis appears to be that the shock both 
 stuns the prey so that it is easily caught, and effects a 
 change by which digestion is facilitated. In support of 
 this latter point, we have the fact that the alimentary canal 
 in the electric fishes, where digestion takes place, is much 
 shorter than in any other of the vertebrated animals. 
 
 2. The electric discharge from the fish is precisely the 
 same as that from a battery, as is shown by rendering the 
 needle magnetic, by its effect upon chemical compounds, 
 and by the heat evolved and the electric spark obtained. 
 Upon an examination of the fishes, the electric apparatus 
 is found to consist of cells arranged and connected as in 
 a galvanic battery, the electric conditions probably being 
 maintained through the nervous structure of the animal. 
 
 3. The most widely scattered of the electric fishes is 
 the torpedo, which belongs to the rays or skates. The 
 body is smooth and rounded, the tail short and thick, 
 cylindrical at the end and keeled on the sides. The tor- 
 pedo, take it all in all, is an innocent-looking fish, and the 
 quizzical expression of its face adds to the harmlessness of 
 its aspect. But woe be unto man or animal which ventures 
 to trench on its dignity ! 
 
 4. The electrical apparatus is arranged in two masses, 
 one on each side of the skull. It is composed of a multi- 
 tude of perpendicular columns, in the shape of eight-sided 
 prisms, separated by walls of membrane containing a fluid 
 freely supplied with blood, and laced with an immense 
 
HIGHER LIFE IN WATERS. 99 
 
 number of nervous filaments. This apparatus is some- 
 thing like the galvanic pile. John Hunter counted twelve 
 hundred columns in a very large fish, and about one hun- 
 dred and fifty plates to the inch. In one specimen, Pro- 
 fessor Wyman estimated the number of plates in an Ameri- 
 can torpedo, a species which sometimes reaches a length 
 of four and one half feet, and a width of three feet, at the 
 enormous number of three hundred thousand, the prisms 
 being about two inches in height and containing one hun- 
 dred plates to the inch. The intervals between the plates 
 
 The Torpedo. 
 
 were filled with an albuminous fluid, mostly water, but 
 containing salt in solution. 
 
 5. In the torpedo the shock is most powerful when con- 
 nection is made between the back and the abdomen. Act- 
 ual contact with the fish, however, is not necessary, as it 
 is well known by the Neapolitan fishermen that the shock 
 is felt when the water is dashed on it, the electric current 
 passing up along the stream, the circuit being completed 
 through the earth to the stomach of the fish. The tor- 
 pedo never uses its power for aggressive uses, as it is rather 
 a timid fish ; but it makes itself dreaded by other fish, 
 which soon learn to let this living electric battery alone. 
 
100 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 It lives on small fish, and keeps near the bottom, preferring 
 a muddy bed to any other. There are about twenty spe- 
 cies of the torpedo found in the different seas of the world. 
 
 6. The most powerful of all the electric fishes, how- 
 ever, is the gymnotus, or electric eel, of the South Ameri- 
 can rivers. It has been well described as an electric bat- 
 tery with an eel attachment. The electric apparatus of 
 this strange creature occupy a large portion of the length 
 of the body, and are four in number, two on each side. 
 They consist of an assemblage of membranous, horizontal 
 plates, intersected by delicate vertical plates, and the cells 
 thus formed are filled with a glutinous matter. Each inch 
 in length of the gymnotus contains, according to Hunter, 
 two hundred and forty cells. There is thus an enormous 
 surface of the electric machinery. The discharge is so 
 great that it is computed by Professor Faraday as equal 
 to that of fifteen Leyden-jars of three thousand five hun- 
 dred square-inch surfaces. 
 
 7. This creature is rather sluggish in its movements, 
 and is only dangerous when disturbed by interference. It 
 differs from other eels in the completeness of its jaws and 
 in the possession of ribs. The skin is smooth and scaleless, 
 and the head is flat and oval, like that of a venomous ser- 
 pent. It has more than a hundred sharp-pointed teeth, 
 but it never bites, except when eating its food. 
 
 8. In the rivers of tropical South America it is fre- 
 quently found in such numbers as to render both bathing 
 and fishing extremely dangerous. It is found, however, 
 that after five or six discharges it becomes exhausted, and 
 can produce no more shocks until after a period of rest. 
 The Indians have learned to take advantage of this, and 
 they drive wild horses into the streams, who trample about 
 in the mud, receiving the electric discharges until the eels 
 are exhausted. In this condition they are speared without 
 inconvenience. 
 
PART V. 
 PYGMY WORKERS dJVD BUILDERS. 
 
 ANTS: THEIR HOMES AND HABITS. 
 
 1. "Go to the ant, thou sluggard, observe her ways, 
 and be wise," is an injunction as old as Solomon, but it 
 may be followed as profitably to-day as when first made 
 three thousand years ago. When we go to the ants, we 
 observe a well-ordered community, each individual per- 
 forming its allotted task for the good of the whole, and ex- 
 amples of constructive ability, industry, thrift, and the wise 
 adaptation of means to ends perfectly marvelous in so tiny 
 a creature. What we are accustomed to call instinct here 
 seems to approach human reason, and it may be questioned 
 whether the ants do not possess an intelligence that places 
 them in a very high rank among organized beings. 
 
 2. Observe the little ants of our fields and paths, and 
 see how they work. Watch how they dig *their tunnels and 
 cover them in, like so many railway engineers. See how 
 they stop, every now and then, to study out their plans ; 
 how they consider all obstacles, and avoid them ; how they 
 use every leaf and stick and straw to make a wall or a roof 
 for their galleries. Who is the foreman, or "boss," as men 
 sometimes say ? Sometimes a single ant has hit upon a 
 new plan ; he goes to work on it ; the others soon adopt 
 the improvement, and help the skillful inventor ; they are 
 
102 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 all as busy as possible, and yet they all have their common 
 plan. The queen lays her eggs ; the workers take care of 
 them, and keep running with them from place to place, 
 always with some object. Almost all ants have several 
 stories or sets of cells for their houses in this way. 
 
 3. Then they watch the state of the weather very care- 
 fully. If the sun is warm, and it will do the eggs good to 
 be in the upper galleries, every little ant begins tugging 
 them along to put them in a warm place. Then if it grows 
 very hot indeed, so as to make the upper galleries too sul- 
 try, the eggs are carried down into the next row, where it 
 is cooler. Then if a sudden rain comes, making these mid- 
 dle galleries too damp, up run the little busy workers, and 
 carry all the eggs to safe chambers far underground. We 
 sometimes think that a single baby makes a great deal of 
 work in a house. But suppose that in every house there 
 were a thousand babies, and that every baby had a nurse, 
 and that all these nurses were running to and fro all day 
 with the babies in their arms, carrying them from room to 
 room, to sun them or air them or dry them, what a scene 
 there would be, and how the nurses and babies would tum- 
 ble over each other, up stairs and down ! And yet that is 
 what goes on all the time in the ants' nurseries. 
 
 4. With almost human intelligence ants also show hu- 
 man passion and pugnacity. Henry Thoreau once saw a 
 battle between two tribes of ants which exhibited all the 
 rage and destructive tendencies usually seen upon battle- 
 fields. He says : " One day when I went out to my wood- 
 pile I observed two large ants, the one red, the other much 
 larger, nearly half an inch long, and black, fiercely con- 
 tending with one another. Having once got hold, they 
 never let go, but struggled and wrestled and rolled on the 
 chips incessantly. Looking farther, I was surprised to find 
 that the chips were covered with such combatants, that it 
 was a war between two races of ants, the red always pitted 
 
PYGMY WORKERS AND BUILDERS. 103 
 
 against the black, and frequently two red ones to one black. 
 On every side they were engaged in deadly combat, yet 
 without any noise that I could hear, and human soldiers 
 never fought so resolutely. I watched a couple that were 
 fast locked in each other's embraces, in a little sunny valley 
 amid the chips, now at noonday prepared to fight till the 
 sun went down, or life went out. 
 
 5. " The smaller red champion had fastened himself 
 like a vise to his adversary's front, and through all the 
 tumblings on that field never for an instant ceased to gnaw 
 at one of his feelers near the root, having already caused 
 the other to go by the board ; while the stronger black one 
 dashed him from side to side, and, as I saw on looking 
 nearer, had already divested him of several of his members. 
 They fought with more pertinacity than bull-dogs. Neither 
 manifested the least disposition to retreat. It was evident 
 that their battle-cry was ' Conquer or die. 7 In the mean 
 time there came along a single red ant on the hillside of 
 this valley, evidently full of excitement, who either had 
 dispatched his foe or had not yet taken part in the battle. 
 He saw this unequal combat from afar for the blacks were 
 nearly twice the size of the reds he drew near with rapid 
 pace till he stood on his guard within half an inch of the 
 combatants ; then, watching his opportunity, he sprang 
 upon the black warrior, and commenced his operations 
 near the root of his right fore-leg, leaving the foe to select 
 among his own members ; and so there were three united 
 for life, as if a new kind of attraction had been invented 
 which put all other locks and cement to shame. 
 
 6. "I should not have wondered by this time to find 
 that they had their respective musical bands stationed on 
 some eminent chip, and playing their national airs the 
 while to excite the slow and cheer the dying combatants. 
 I was myself excited somewhat as if they had been men. 
 The more you think of it, the less the difference. I never 
 
104 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 learned which party was victorious, nor what the cause of 
 the war ; but I felt for the rest of that day as if I had had 
 my feelings excited and harrowed by witnessing the strug- 
 gle, the ferocity and carnage of a human battle before my 
 door." 
 
 7. In another respect ants show their kinship to the 
 human. Some ant tribes make a business of capturing and 
 holding slaves. At the head of the slave-makers are the 
 little red ants, known as the Amazon ants. They set about 
 their raids in a systematic manner, always starting at night- 
 fall. Their victims are usually the industrious little miner 
 ants. When they have issued from their abode, the Ama- 
 zons array themselves in serried columns, and their army 
 takes its way to the ants' nest which they are about to de- 
 spoil. In vain do the vrarriors of the beleaguered city seek 
 to bar the entrance ; in spite of all such eiforts the others 
 penetrate into the very heart of the place, and pry into all 
 the compartments in order to choose their victims, the 
 larvae and nymphs, this latter being the name given to the 
 larvae after they have spun their cocoons, whence they are 
 to emerge perfect insects. The workers which oppose those 
 raids are simply thrown down ; they a_*3 not made prison- 
 ers, because they would adapt themselves with difficulty to 
 the yoke ; the assailants want only young individuals which 
 they can mold to their will. 
 
 8. \Yhen the place is completely sacked, each conqueror 
 takes a nymph or larva delicately between its teeth and 
 prepares to return. Those who can not find nymphs or 
 larvae, carry off the mutilated dead bodies of their enemies 
 in order to feed on them. Then the whole army, laden 
 with booty, and sometimes stretching out in a line of a 
 hundred and fifty feet in length, triumphantly regains its 
 city in the same order as at its departure. 
 
 9. As soon as the young ants torn from their homes 
 reach the abode of their spoilers, the slaves already there 
 
PYGMY WORKERS AND BUILDERS. 105 
 
 lavish the most attentive care upon them ; they give them 
 food, cleanse them, and warm their chilled bodies. 
 
 10. In the slave-making republics conquerors and slaves 
 finish by changing places. The warrior-robbers only dis- 
 play courage in fighting. The instant they have stowed 
 away their booty in the nest, the Amazons refresh them- 
 selves after battle by the pleasures of laziness. But they 
 soon become enervated, and the spoilers pass under the 
 yoke of those they have conquered. This dependence is so 
 great that, if they were deprived of their slaves, privations 
 and inaction would speedily destroy the tribe. 
 
 11. The warrior ants, ardent in battle and the chase, 
 revolt against all domestic work, for they only understand 
 fighting. Incapable of building their own abodes, or nour- 
 ishing their young, they leave these duties to their slaves. 
 When the tribe is forced to abandon a nest on account of 
 its being too old or too small, the slaves decide the question 
 of emigration. They do not, however, run oif and leave 
 their helpless tyrants, but each one takes one of its degen- 
 erate masters in its mandibles and bears it to the new 
 dwelling, just as a cat carries its kitten in its mouth. 
 
 THE APHIDES AND THEIR KEEPERS. 
 
 1. THE aphides are the small green 'insects, generally 
 known as plant-lice, which infest our gardens. Insignifi- 
 cant as may be a single aphis, these insects are most for- 
 midable from their numbers, as all gardeners know to their 
 cost. Eoses are often so thickly covered with these pesti- 
 lential insects that the leaves and buds are completely 
 hidden, the latter never being permitted to develop them- 
 selves into flowers. 
 
 2. These insects are prolific almost beyond belief. As 
 
106 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 a general rule, insects lay eggs which are hatched, pass 
 through the state of larva and pupa, and then become per- 
 fect insects. But the plant-lice go on a very different plan. 
 A female aphis takes her place on a branch say of the 
 rose plunges her beak into the tender bark, and begins to 
 suck the sap. After a short time she begins to produce 
 young aphides at an average rate of fourteen per diem. 
 These young creatures are just like their mother, only 
 less, and immediately follow her example by first sucking 
 the sap of the plant and then producing fresh young. 
 
 3. It is in consequence of this remarkable mode of pro- 
 duction that the twigs and buds become so rapidly covered 
 with aphides, the quickly succeeding generations crawling 
 over the backs of their predecessors, so as to arrive at an 
 unoccupied spot of bark in which they can drive their 
 beaks. Thus, at the beginning of a week, say on Mon- 
 day, a rose-tree may be apparently free from aphides, or 
 have at the most six or seven of the "blight" upon it, 
 but by Thursday the whole plant will be so thickly covered 
 with aphides that scarcely a particle of the bark can be 
 seen, the whole being crowded with the green bodies of the 
 insect, each with its beak dug deeply into the plant, and 
 draining it of its juices. 
 
 4. The natural foe of the aphides is the bright little 
 spotted beetle known as the lady-bug, or lady-bird. Beau- 
 tiful as are the lady-birds, it is not for their beauty alone 
 that they are valued, inasmuch as they are among the 
 greatest benefactors of civilized man, and preserve many 
 a harvest which, but for their aid, would be hopelessly 
 lost. For in their larval state they feed upon the aphides, 
 and, being exceedingly voracious, devour vast numbers of 
 these destructive insects. Few persons would suppose, on 
 looking at the coccinella larva, what was its real condition 
 of life. It looks as harmless, dull, sluggish a creature as 
 can be imagined, and much more likely to be eaten itself 
 
PYGMY WORKERS AND BUILDERS. 107 
 
 than to eat other insects. Yet, with all this innocence of 
 aspect, it is so ruthless a destroyer of animal life that, if a 
 few of them be placed on a bush or plant which is infested 
 with aphides, in a day or two not an aphis will be left. 
 
 5. From the back of the aphides, and toward the tail, 
 there are two slender projections. These are tubes, from 
 which exudes a sweet liquid, which, with the aid of the 
 microscope, can be seen starting, in minute drops, from the 
 end of each tube. When the aphides are in great profusion 
 upon a tree, this liquid falls from them, and covers the 
 leaves with the sweet, sticky substance which is so familiar 
 to us under the name of "honey-dew." Trees thus distin- 
 guished are always overrun by swarms of ants, which lick 
 the sweet droppings from the leaves and hold high revels 
 on this substance, whose origin was once so mysterious. 
 
 6. The ants even go farther than this. Not content 
 with taking the honey-dew that has fallen from the aphides, 
 they anticipate its fall, and eagerly lap up the sweet secre- 
 tion as it exudes from the insects. In fact, they make 
 much the same use of the aphides as we do of cows, and 
 even carry off the ant-cows, as they may be called, to their 
 own nests, and there keep them. That the ants do this 
 has long been known, but the notion of keeping milch- 
 cows seemed so far beyond the capacities of an insect that 
 many persons refused to give credence to so romantic a 
 story. 
 
 7. I have often watched an ant go from one aphis to 
 another, stand behind each, and gently squeeze the body 
 with its fore-legs ; perhaps one aphis in ten, not more, 
 will give out a small drop of honey as clear as crystal, which 
 the ants instantly swallow. The ants take much more care 
 of the aphides than the aphides do of themselves ; they are 
 sad, dull, stupid creatures. It is very pretty to see the 
 licking and washing and cleaning and caressing which the 
 ants constantly bestow on them. When the aphides cast 
 
108 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 their skin, the ants instantly carry it away, nor will they 
 let any dirt or rubbish remain among them or on them. 
 
 8. But the most amusing care of the ant is guarding 
 the aphides from the attacks of that little parasitic fly 
 whose operations Mr. Haliday has so well described. You 
 must have seen a sheep-dog run over the backs of a whole 
 flock of sheep, when closely crowded together, in order to 
 bring back some sinner that has gone astray ; so will the 
 ants, in the hot sunshine, run about over an establishment 
 of aphides, driving away the rascally parasite that is for- 
 ever hovering over to destroy them. 
 
 9. The mode in which the ichneumon-flies operate on 
 the aphis is very remarkable. As may be inferred from 
 the size of the aphides, on which they are parasitic, they 
 are of very small dimensions, and one of these tiny creat- 
 ures, when standing on the back of an aphis which it is 
 about to wound, looks much liks a rook perched on a 
 sheep's back. 
 
 10. When the fatal egg has been introduced under the 
 skin of the aphis, the wounded insect, like the stricken 
 hart, separates itself from its fellows and passes to the 
 under-side of a leaf, and there fixes itself. Its body soon 
 begins to swell, and at last becomes quite globular and 
 horny, the change being caused by the death of the aphis 
 and the rapid growth of the parasite within it. The ich- 
 neumon passes rapidly through its changes, and in a short 
 time assumes the perfect form, always with its head next 
 the tail of its victim, pushes off the last two or three seg- 
 ments of the dead aphis, and makes its escape into the 
 world. The dead and empty skins of such hapless aphides 
 may be found plentifully toward the end of summer stick- 
 ing firmly to the leaf, and showing the round aperture 
 through which the destroying parasite has crept. 
 
 11. Sometimes there is a sort of contest between the 
 aphis and the ichneumon-fly ; the former, however, hav- 
 
PYGMY WORKERS AND BUILDERS. 109 
 
 ing no more chance against its tiny foe than has a rab- 
 bit against a weasel. If the aphis have its beak deeply 
 plunged into the bark, the ichneumon-fly has an easy task, 
 for the aphis can do nothing but kick and struggle, while 
 anchored to the spot by its proboscis, and all that the ich- 
 neumon-fly has to do is to make its deadly lunge. But, if 
 the aphis be wandering about the plant, the ichneumon- 
 fly has to walk about with it, and try first one side and 
 then the other, until she can find an opportunity of deposit- 
 ing her egg. Rev. J. a. Wood. 
 
 SPINNERS OF THE MULBERRY-TREES. 
 
 1. OF all the insect tribes, the ways and transformations 
 of the mulberry silk-worm are probably the best known. 
 The accurate and minute knowledge which we have of this 
 insect is owing to the fact that success in the production 
 of silk is rendered possible only by carefully studying every 
 phase of the life of the silk- worm, and by providing the 
 conditions necessary to its healthful development. There 
 are many varieties of silk-producing worms, each feeding 
 upon the leaves of some special plant, but only a few whose 
 products can be successfully and economically manufac- 
 tured. Within a short time past successful experiments 
 have been made with the varieties which feed upon the oak 
 and the ailanthus, but still the spinners* of the mulberry- 
 trees continue to furnish the greater part of the world's 
 supply of silk. 
 
 2. The silk-worms are hatched from eggs about the size 
 of a mustard-seed, an ounce of eggs producing from thirty 
 thousand to forty thousand worms. Scarce is the worm 
 born than he begins to eat. Indeed, it has no time to lose, 
 for, before reaching maturity, it must gain seventy-two 
 thousand times its own weight ; so, to acquit itself con- 
 
110 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 scientiously of its task, it does nothing but eat, digest, and 
 sleep. In about five days this devouring appetite ceases ; 
 the little worm becomes almost motionless, hangs itself by 
 its hind feet, raising and holding a little inclined the 
 anterior part of its body. This repose lasts twenty-four, 
 thirty-six, or forty-eight hours, according to temperature ; 
 then the dvied-up skin splits open behind the head, and 
 soon along the length of the body. The caterpillar comes 
 out with a new skin, which has been formed during this 
 sleep. 
 
 3. The process of insects shedding their old skin and 
 emerging in a new one is usually termed moulting, but in 
 silk-culture it is termed sickness; for this is a critical 
 period in the life of a silk-worm, and many of the weaker 
 ones do not survive it. Before reaching maturity, the skin 
 is changed four times, in periods varying from three to 
 eight days, the worm eating voraciously after each moult- 
 ing, and becoming nearly dormant for a brief period before 
 the next change. After the skin is shed for the last time, 
 the growth becomes very rapid, and maturity is reached in 
 about ten days, giving the insect a life of about thirty- two 
 days in the larva state. 
 
 4. At this point it ceases to eat, and the alimentary 
 canal is entirely emptied of food ; it appears restless, 
 wanders about, and seeks to climb. When furnished with 
 a proper kind of branch, it mounts upon it, and, choosing 
 a convenient place, it hangs itself by its hind feet, and 
 soon through its spinner a thread of silk makes its appear- 
 ance. This is at first cast out in any direction, and forms 
 a collection of cords, which shall attach the cocoon to be 
 spun to the surrounding twigs. Next the form of the co- 
 coon is outlined, and then for some hours we can see the 
 worker performing his task through the transparent gauze 
 with which he surrounds himself. Little by little this 
 gauze thickens and grows opaque, until finally it becomes 
 
PYGMY WORKERS AND BUILDERS. 
 
 Ill 
 
 a perfect cocoon. At the end of about seventy-two hours 
 the work is done. 
 
 5. Having once commenced, the worm continues to 
 spin, and the thread is unbroken from one end to the 
 other. The cocoon is thus seen to be really a ball wound 
 
 The Silk-worm. 
 
 from the inside. The thread which forms it is eleven 
 miles long, and weighs about six grains. Let us for a mo- 
 ment consider the prodigious activity of the silk-worm 
 while spinning its thread. To dispose of the silk, it moves 
 its head in all directions, each movement being about one 
 
112 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 sixth of an inch. To finish his task in the seventy-two 
 hours requires about three hundred thousand motions in a 
 day, or sixty-nine every minute. No weaver can equal this 
 in activity for a single hour, and much less would any one 
 be able to keep up to the highest rate of speed for three 
 days in succession. 
 
 6. The silk-worm has now changed from the larva to 
 the pupa state. After finishing his cocoon he becomes 
 torpid once more. His body is inclosed in a kind of shell, 
 the color of which is a golden yellow. A very slight move- 
 ment of the posterior part, which requires the closest at- 
 tention to observe, is the only sign of life. Yet, within, a 
 most remarkable change is taking place, and in about fif- 
 teen days is complete. The shell of the pupa now splits 
 open, as did the skin of the larva, and there emerges a 
 complete butterfly a creature as unlike the forms through 
 which it has already passed as can well be imagined. 
 
 7. This butterfly is almost an inch long and two inches 
 across when its wings are spread. It is of a whitish or 
 pale yellow color. Sex in the silk-worm is developed only 
 in the butterfly form. The male flies about chiefly in the 
 evening, but the females have but little activity. In three 
 days the female deposits about five hundred eggs, and as 
 her work is ended she immediately dies ; the life of the 
 male has about the same duration. 
 
 8. When the cocoons are spun they are separated into 
 two parts those which are to be wound, and those which 
 are reserved for hatching the butterflies from which the 
 new supply of eggs is to be obtained. The former are 
 placed in hot water, which kills the pupa within, and the 
 silk is wound off from the outside. 
 
 9. Such is a brief history of the life of an insect which 
 forms the basis of one of the greatest industries of the 
 world. Silk-making probably originated in China, and is 
 now extensively carried on in that country and in Japan. 
 
PYGMY WORKERS AND BUILDERS. 113 
 
 In Europe the principal silk-producing countries are France 
 and Italy. The manufacture has spread into other coun- 
 tries, and it is becoming a quite important industry in the 
 United States. 
 
 10. In raising cocoons, two things are necessary a 
 climate and soil that will produce mulberry- trees (and 
 this is found in the United States almost anywhere south 
 of latitude 43), and intelligent care during- the brief 
 period of the silk-worm's existence. This part of the 
 silk-culture is essentially a home industry. The silk- 
 worms require such delicate and individual care that the 
 best results are attained from small orchards of mulberries 
 and a limited amount of worms in one establishment. By 
 devoting an acre or two to the cultivation of the trees, the. 
 children and unproductive members of the family can do 
 the very light work necessary during the six weeks' care of 
 the worms. In this way the family can receive a substan- 
 tial benefit, the profits often being greater from this small 
 number of trees than from all the remainder of the farm. 
 The demand for cocoons is so great that there is no danger 
 of overstocking the market. 
 
 HONEY-GATHERERS^ 
 
 1. IN all ages the bee communities have been regarded 
 with great interest by observers of nature. The facts re- 
 sulting from even a cursory observation are such as to 
 excite admiration and astonishment. Here, among di- 
 minutive insects, is found a society perfectly organized 
 and well ordered ; the members continually industrious 
 and showing a wise thrift in regard to the future, and 
 displaying a high degree of seeming intelligence in adapt- 
 
114 NATURAL BISTORT READER. 
 
 ing means to ends. It is observed, also, that they are archi. 
 tects of no mean order, constructing communal homes per- 
 fectly adapted to the needs of the individual, and serving 
 in the highest degree the wants of the whole. In con- 
 structing hexagonal cells, they choose the only form that 
 would economically fill the entire space, leaving no waste 
 room, and in this they show that they possess geometric 
 art, though they may not be acquainted with geometric 
 science. 
 
 2. A little closer observation reveals other facts of great 
 interest* A single queen is found in each community, 
 who is at once the mother and the ruler of the society, 
 and to her loyal homage is paid by all the members. The 
 society itself is divided into drones and workers, the for- 
 mer males and few in number, and the latter neuters, con- 
 stituting the mass of the community. It is seen, also, that 
 the cells are used for different purposes, and for each use 
 they are of somewhat different structure. The mass of the 
 cells are for the purpose of storing honey, and this forms 
 the honey-comb which is brought to the table. In other 
 cells the eggs are deposited and the young bees kept while 
 in their pupa state. These cells are of three kinds, as 
 adapted, respectively, to the queen, the workers, and the 
 drones, the royal cell being several times larger than the 
 others. In other cells is stored the food known as bee- 
 bread, upon which the larva is fed, the royal jelly, fed to 
 prospective queens exclusively, being kept by itself. 
 
 3. The workers gather honey principally from flowers, 
 storing it in the honey-cells for food during the winter ; 
 and at a certain time before the honey season ends they ex- 
 pel the drones from the hive, and leave them to perish for 
 want of food. The phenomenon of swarming is also well 
 known. At a period, usually in early summer, the whole 
 hive seems to be in a state of commotion, and great num- 
 bers of bees collect in masses upon the outside of their hive. 
 
PYGMY WORKERS AND BUILDERS. 115 
 
 After hanging there for a time they set off together to find 
 a new home, leaving a portion still in possession of the old 
 one. Those who take care of bees prepare for this, and 
 have a home ready for the new swarm. 
 
 4. So far, these facts, patent to every observer, have 
 long been well known, but the more minute details of bee 
 life were revealed for the first time about the close of the 
 last century by Francis Huber, the Swiss naturalist, who 
 devoted most of his life to the study of their ways. What 
 is most remarkable about these discoveries is that Huber 
 was blind, and was obliged to see exclusively through the 
 eyes of others. He had a mind, however, wonderfully 
 keen, alert, and well trained, and his affliction obliged him 
 to verify his work at every step, so as to preclude the pos- 
 sibility of mistake. His discoveries, published in 1792, 
 were first received with incredulity, but all subsequent ob- 
 servation has served to confirm them. Indeed, since his 
 time nothing has been added to our knowledge of the bees 
 save the settlement of a few points which he raised, and 
 about which he expressed some doubt. Some of the most 
 interesting of his discoveries are as follows : 
 
 5. The neuter or worker bees are all imperfectly de- 
 veloped females, and, with proper treatment, the larva of 
 any one of them may become a queen. The queen, when 
 perfectly developed, lays its eggs, from which the diiferent 
 kinds of bees are hatched, without mistake, in the cells pre- 
 pared for each ; but when the queen is imperfect she makes 
 mistakes, and deposits drones' eggs in worker cells, and 
 vice versa. The workers, however, rectify these mistakes, 
 and change the cells to meet the new conditions. In one 
 respect, however, they are at fault : if a drone's egg is de- 
 posited in a royal cell, they dose the poor fellow to death 
 trying to make a queen of him. 
 
 6. Just before the swarming season begins the workers 
 construct royal cells, sometimes to the number of twenty- 
 
116 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 seven. In these the queen deposits eggs on successive 
 days, so that when she leads off the new swarm another 
 queen will be ready to take her place ; and also that, if 
 the swarm be vigorous enough to throw off several colonies, 
 each may be provided with a leader. About the time the new 
 queens are coming out the old queen seems to be possessed 
 with a complete frenzy, fiercely attacking the royal cells 
 and stinging the occupants to death. The first new queen 
 that comes out also shows the same rage, and endeavors to 
 kill all the larvae in the other queen cells. At this time the 
 instinct of the workers seems reversed ; they no longer im- 
 plicitly obey, but, gathering about the royal cells, they in- 
 terpose their bodies in such a manner as to frustrate the 
 intentions of the queen until the paroxysm of her anger has 
 passed. Their resistance is entirely passive, and as soon as 
 she becomes quiet they again become faithful and obedient 
 subjects. 
 
 7. If a swarm of bees finds itself suddenly queenless, 
 the workers immediately select the larva of a worker bee, 
 not over three days old, and enlarge the cell by cutting 
 down the partition-walls between it and two adjoining cells, 
 destroying the inmates, and then they supply the larva thus 
 selected with royal jelly. The nursery of the royal heir is 
 thus elongated, and is capped over with a peculiar covering. 
 In sixteen days from the time it is hatched it becomes a 
 queen. Under such circumstances, the new queen, upon her 
 birth, is allowed to kill all her possible rivals in the royal 
 cells. Should two queens emerge at the same time, the 
 workers form a ring, so as to insure fair play, and let them 
 fight until one is killed, when they give their adhesion to 
 the other. 
 
 8. If a strange queen be introduced into a swarm pos- 
 sessing one of their own, the workers surround her and 
 quietly detain her as prisoner until she perishes with hunger, 
 but they offer her no direct violence. Should the strange 
 
PYGMY WORKERS AND BUILDERS. H7 
 
 queen pass all the sentinels and guards, until she comes in 
 presence of the old queen, a battle is inevitable, as the 
 workers will detain either if they seem disposed to fly. 
 
 9. After the loss of a queen by a swarm, if a strange 
 queen be introduced, her reception will depend entirely 
 upon the time which has elapsed since their bereavement. 
 At first they refuse to be comforted, and reject any attempt 
 to replace their loss. After eighteen hours they begin to 
 consider the matter, and in twenty-four receive, with royal 
 honors, any queen which may be offered them. 
 
 10. A common bee, when it reaches its maturity, emerges 
 from its cell without help, but for some time it is too weak 
 to fly. A queen, however, is guarded by the workers ; she is 
 closely watched, and constantly fed through a small aper- 
 ture in the covering of her cell, until she has attained suf- 
 ficient strength to fly. The presence of a developed and 
 imprisoned queen is generally made known by a peculiar 
 note which she utters, called "piping." Above the busy 
 hum of the hive this sound may be distinguished ; it seems 
 to be the expression of her impatience at her imprisonment, 
 and is the usual precursor of swarming. 
 
 11. When the swarming season arrives, and the drones 
 and some of the new queens have nearly arrived at matu- 
 rity, the old queen becomes violently agitated, and rapidly 
 passes over the combs, communicating her agitation to all 
 she meets. In a short time the whole swarm appears to be 
 in a violent state of excitement. Within the hive the ther- 
 mometer rises from between 90 and 95 to 104, a heat in- 
 tolerable to the bees, and, with the queen at their head, they 
 rush impetuously out of the hives. The initial cause of 
 the queen's agitation is not known, but the swarming is as 
 much occasioned by the excessive heat as by the overstocked 
 hive. 
 
 12. Honey is not directly obtained from flowers, but is 
 a saccharine substance which is worked over bv the inter- 
 
118 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 nal organs of the bees. The pollen of flowers is collected 
 in a like manner, swallowed, and regurgitated in the form 
 of bee-bread or food for the larva. When wax is needed, 
 the bees gorge themselves with honey and hang suspended 
 in festoons or curtains for about twenty-four hours, when 
 the wax is found secreted in the form of a little scale be- 
 tween the overlapping rings of the abdomen, which spaces 
 are called wax-pockets. So that when we see bees hang in 
 clusters in other than the swarming season we may know 
 that they are engaged in the manufacture of wax. 
 
 13. Of the treatment of these wax-scales Huber says : 
 " The worker disengages it by means of pincers on his legs, 
 and by seizing it in his mouth. We remarked that with 
 its claws it turned the wax in every necessary direction ; 
 that the edge of the scale was immediately broken down, 
 and the fragments, having been accumulated in the hollow 
 of the mandibles, issued forth like a very narrow ribbon, 
 impregnated with a frothy liquid by the tongue. The 
 tongue assumed the most varied shapes, and performed the 
 most complicated operations, being sometimes flattened 
 like a trowel, and at other times pointed like a pencil ; 
 and, after imbuing the whole substance of the ribbon, 
 pushing it forward into the mandibles, where it was drawn 
 out a second time, but in an opposite direction." 
 
 14. The lenses of the bees' eyes are not adjustable, and, 
 though they can see accurately at great distances, they seem 
 blind to objects close by. Bees dart down to the door of 
 their hives with a precision that is generally unerring, but 
 if, from any cause, they miss the opening, they are obliged 
 to rise in the air in order to take another observation. If 
 bees hear at all, it is only such sounds as affect their own 
 welfare. Their sense of smell appears to be very keen : the 
 presence of honey they detect in the most carefully con- 
 cealed places. The sense which appears to be the most 
 perfect with them is touch, which resides wholly in the 
 
PYGMY WORKERS AND BUILDERS. 119 
 
 antennae. In the language of Huber, "the bee constructs 
 its comb in darkness ; it pours its honey into the maga- 
 zines, feeds its young, judges of their age and necessities, 
 recognizes its queen all by aid of its antennas, which are 
 much less adapted for becoming acquainted with objects 
 than our hands. Therefore, shall we not grant to this 
 sense modifications and perfections unknown to the touch 
 of man ? " 
 
 THE HUMBLEBEE. 
 
 1. BURLY, dozing humblebee, 
 Where thou art is clime for me. 
 Let them sail for Porto Rique, 
 Far-off heats through seas to seek ; 
 I will follow thee alone, 
 
 Thou animated torrid zone ! 
 Zigzag steerer, desert cheerer, 
 Let me chase thy waving lines ; 
 Keep me nearer, me thy hearer, 
 Singing over shrubs and vines. 
 
 2. Insect lover of the sun, 
 Joy of thy dominion ! 
 Sailer of the atmosphere ; 
 Swimmer through the waves' of air ; 
 Voyager of light and noon ; 
 Epicurean of June ; 
 
 Wait, I prithee, till I come 
 Within earshot of thy hum 
 All without is martyrdom. 
 
 3. When the south wind in May days, 
 With a net of shining haze, 
 
]20 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 Silvers the horizon wall, 
 And, with softness touching all, 
 Tints the human countenance 
 With the color of romance ; 
 And, infusing subtle heats, 
 Turns the sod to violets 
 Thou, in sunny solitudes, 
 Rover of the underwoods, 
 The green silence doth displace 
 With thy mellow, breezy bass. 
 
 4. Hot midsummer's petted crone, 
 Sweet to me thy drowsy tone 
 Tells of countless sunny hours, 
 Long days, and solid banks of flowers 
 Of gulfs of sweetness without bound 
 In Indian wildernesses found ! 
 
 Of Syrian peace, immortal leisure, 
 Firmest cheer, and bird-like pleasure. 
 
 5. Aught unsavory or unclean 
 Hath my insect never seen ; 
 But violets and bilberry-bells, 
 Maple-sap and daffodels, 
 
 Grass with green flag half-mast high 5 
 Succory to match the sky, 
 Columbine with horn of honey, 
 Scented fern and agrimony, 
 Clover, catchfly, adder's-tongue, 
 And briar-roses, dwelt among ; 
 All beside was unknown waste, 
 All was picture as he passed. 
 
 6. Wiser far than human seer, 
 Yellow-breeched philosopher ! 
 
PYGMY WORKERS AND BUILDERS. 121 
 
 Seeing only what is fair, 
 Sipping only what is sweet, 
 Thou dost mock at fate and care, 
 Leave the chaff and take the wheat. 
 When the fierce northwestern blast 
 Cools sea and land so far and fast, 
 Thou already slumberest deep ; 
 Woe and want thou canst outsleep ; 
 Want and woe, which torture us, 
 Thy sleep makes ridiculous. 
 
 Emerson. 
 
PART VI. 
 QUEER LITTLE FOLKS. 
 
 THE PIT-DIGGER AND ITS VICTIM. 
 
 1. WHEtf I lived in a tent in South Carolina, I had all 
 around me the curious little holes of a creature that feeds 
 on ants, though it is no bigger than they are the ant-lion. 
 I had read about this little insect, as most children have, 
 but I had never before seen it, except in its complete state, 
 when it is a pretty lace-winged fly. But the remarkable 
 part of its life is passed in the grub or larva state. Then it 
 is a soft, heavy little thing, with feeble legs, and nothing 
 strong about it but its appetite and jaws. But how is it to 
 get its living ? It feeds on other insects, but as it can not 
 chase them, it must find a way to bring them to it ; just as 
 if we should sit at table, and the turkeys and chickens 
 should come flying into our mouths. This is the way. 
 
 2. The ant-lion chooses a sandy place, and then crawls 
 round in a circle two or three inches in diameter. Then it 
 makes another round inside of the first a little deeper and 
 jerks the sand outward with its head. Then it makes an 
 inner circle deeper still, and so on, always scooping up the 
 sand and throwing it out, until at last it has made a regular 
 little pitfall, shaped like a cone, and then it lies at the bot- 
 tom with its jaws and forceps just sticking out of the sand, 
 waiting for dinner to come. 
 
QUEER LITTLE FOLKS. 123 
 
 3. Dinner comes by and by in the shape of some little 
 ant, roaming round for its own dinner, and attracted by 
 this queer little pit. Almost all animals have some curi- 
 osity, and so the ant looks over the edge. His feet slip in 
 the soft sand, the more he struggles the faster he slips down, 
 and the ant-lion, wriggling up half-way to meet him, soon 
 has him in his strong jaws, that never let go. In the strug- 
 gle the sand is thrown about, and the pitfall is often so de- 
 stroyed that it is easier to make a new one than to repair 
 the old. 
 
 4. I have seen a hundred of these tiny burrows beside 
 each other in the woods, and have often put into them little 
 pieces of stick or straw, that I might see how easily these 
 obstructions slid down, and how eagerly the little ant-lion 
 seized upon them. It seemed a selfish and lonely way of 
 getting one's food, besides the treacherousness of it. For I 
 never saw two ant-lions in the same dining-room, and you 
 can not have as much sympathy for them as for those who 
 are collecting food to keep their families from starving. At 
 any rate, it shows that if ants have sharp wits, they are 
 needed to resist such very intelligent enemies. 
 
 T. W. Higgimon. 
 
 HOW MOSQUITOES MANAGE. 
 
 1. THE following account of the mosqfuito is condensed 
 from Keaumur, the distinguished French naturalist, and is 
 mostly in his own language : 
 
 2. The mosquito is our declared enemy, and a very 
 troublesome enemy it is. However, it is well to make its 
 acquaintance ; for, if we pay a little attention, we shall be 
 forced to admire it, and even to admire the instrument 
 with which it wounds us. Besides which, throughout the 
 whole course of its life, it offers most interesting matter of 
 
124: NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 investigation to those who are curious to know the wonders 
 of nature. During a period in its life the observer, forget- 
 ting it will at some time annoy him, feels the greatest in- 
 terest in its life-history. 
 
 3. The body of the mosquito is long and cylindrical. 
 When in a state of repose, one wing is crossed over the 
 other. The eyes are so large as to cover nearly the whole 
 of the head. The instrument which it uses for punctur- 
 ing the skin, and which is called the trunk, is well worthy 
 of attention. Under the microscope the trunk appears to be 
 straight and cylindrical, terminating in a small knob at the 
 end. This is only the case, which opens and allows the 
 stings, which are six in number, to come in play. These 
 stings are exceedingly minute, pointed, and are used very 
 much like a surgeon's lancet. This little instrument in 
 itself would scarcely be felt, but the sting is accompanied 
 by the emission of a fluid, which causes the irritation which 
 we know so well. 
 
 4. The mosquito is not always in the form of a winged 
 insect greedy for our blood. After its brief but very active 
 life of from two to three weeks the female lays its eggs and 
 dies. These eggs are in clusters, which when magnified 
 appear like a fragment of honey-comb, with from fifty to 
 one hundred and fifty cells. They are deposited in the 
 water, or as close to it as possible. In wet seasons the 
 water rises and floats the eggs, producing an abundant har- 
 vest ; but in dry seasons many fail to reach the water, and 
 so perish. 
 
 5. When first hatched in the water, they are very small, 
 and remarkably active. They get all the food necessary 
 for their sustenance from the water, and they seem to be 
 incessantly in the search of it. While in the larva state, 
 in the course of two or three weeks, they change their skin 
 three times, each change being preceded by a period of 
 repose, and succeeded by one of activity and voracity. 
 
QUEER LITTLE FOLKS. 
 
 125 
 
 6. When it throws off its skin for the fourth time, it 
 changes its shape and condition, and passes into the pupa 
 state. Its body is shortened and rounded, presenting a 
 much plumper appearance. It has lost the little fan-like 
 
 Mosquitoes. 
 
 membrane which the larva possessed, but is still able to 
 swim by bending its body and straightening it again. 
 While in this state it does not eat, and has no digestive 
 apparatus. Its outside covering is a kind of sack, within 
 
126 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 which the perfect insect develops itself in the course of 
 two or three days. While in the water the larva and pupa 
 are both familiarly known as wigglers. 
 
 7. When about to undergo its last change, the pupa 
 lies extended on the surface of the water with its thorax a 
 little raised. In a moment the skin splits, beginning at 
 the head and extending along the back. As soon as it is 
 enlarged and to do so sufficiently is but the work of a 
 moment the forepart of the perfect insect is not long 
 in showing itself ; and soon afterward the head appears, 
 rising above the opening. But this moment, and those 
 that follow, until the mosquito has entirely left its cover- 
 ing, are most critical, and when it is exposed to great 
 danger. This insect, which lately lived in the water, is 
 suddenly in a position in which it has nothing to fear so 
 much as the water. If it were upset on the water, and the 
 water were to touch its thorax or body, it would be fatal. 
 
 8. This is the way in which it acts in this critical po- 
 sition : As soon as it has got out its head and thorax, it 
 lifts them as high as it is able above the opening through 
 which they had emerged, and then draws the posterior 
 part of the body toward the same opening ; or, rather, 
 that part pushes itself forward by contracting a little, and 
 then lengthening again, the roughness of the covering from 
 which it desires to extricate itself serving as an assistance. 
 
 9. A large portion of the mosquito is thus uncovered, 
 and at the same time the head is advanced farther to- 
 ward the anterior end of the covering ; but as it advances 
 in this direction it rises more and more, both ends of the 
 sheath thus becoming quite empty. The sheath is now 
 a kind of boat, into which the water does not enter ; and 
 it would be fatal if it did. Large boats, which pass under 
 bridges, have masts which can be lowered ; as soon as the 
 boat has passed the bridge, the mast is hoisted up by de- 
 grees until it is vertical. The mosquito rises until it be- 
 
QUEER LITTLE FOLKS. 127 
 
 comes the mast of its own little boat, and a vertical mast 
 also. 
 
 10. The forepart of the boat is much more loaded than 
 the other, but it is also much broader. It is difficult to 
 imagine how the insect is able to put itself in such a sin- 
 gular, though for it necessary, position, and how it can 
 keep it. Any one who observes how deep the forepart of 
 the boat is, and how near the edges of its sides are to the 
 water, forgets, for the time being, that the mosquito is an 
 insect that he would willingly destroy at other times. One 
 feels uneasy for its fate ; and the more so if the wind happens 
 to arise so as to disturb the surface of the water. But one 
 sees with pleasure that there is air enough to carry the 
 mosquito along quickly ; it is carried from side to side ; it 
 makes voyages in the boat in which it is borne. The boat, 
 as yet, has only a mast, because its wings and legs are fixed 
 close to its body, but in proportion it is a larger sail than 
 one would dare to put on a real vessel ; one can not help 
 fearing that the little boat will capsize. Should the boat 
 capsize, there is no chance for the mosquito. I have seen 
 the water covered with mosquitoes which had perished as 
 soon as they were born. Happily, all dangers may be 
 passed over in a minute. 
 
 11. The mosquito, after raising itself perpendicularly, 
 draws its two front legs from the sheath and brings them 
 forward, and then draws out the two next. It now no 
 longer tries to maintain its erect position, but leans to- 
 ward the water, gets near it, and places its feet upon it ; 
 the water is sufficiently firm and solid to support the in- 
 sect's body. As soon as it is thus in the water it is safe ; 
 its wings are unfolded and dried, which is done sooner than 
 it takes to tell it, and it then is in a condition to fly away 
 and commence experiments on the observer. 
 
 Reaumur. 
 
128 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 PLANT-EATING AND OMNIVOROUS ANTS. 
 
 1. A:NT communities everywhere have the same general 
 characteristics in regard to orderly government, to the con- 
 struction of communal habitations, to the care of the young, 
 to industry, and to the division of labor ; but it is in trop- 
 ical regions only that they exhibit some of their most re- 
 markable peculiarities. The plant-eating ant is the pest of 
 the agriculturist, but the omnivorous ants are such fearful 
 scourges that they frequently render large sections of coun- 
 try entirely uninhabitable by man. In Africa the owners 
 of large and nourishing plantations have been driven away 
 by these ants, and upon the banks of the Parana, in Brazil, 
 a large territory has been almost transformed into a desert. 
 
 2. In South America, the sauba, or leaf-cutting ants, 
 are among the pests which make regular farming almost 
 impossible. These ants build nests about two feet high and 
 often forty feet in diameter. The interiors are divided into 
 galleries, some of which extend deep into the ground. It 
 is said that these ants always build where they can have di- 
 rect access to water, and in one instance it was found that 
 they had constructed a well twelve inches in diameter and 
 thirty feet deep. These ants ascend trees and plants in 
 immense swarms, taking possession of the entire plant. 
 Then each ant cuts a circular piece from a leaf, and, de- 
 scending, bears it away to the nest. In this way the tree is 
 soon denuded of its leaves, and the vast army of ants, follow- 
 ing the same route, form regular beaten paths. "While en- 
 gaged in this work their columns are said to look like a 
 multitude of animated leaves on a march. 
 
 3. The leaves are stored up in chambers constructed for 
 that purpose, and for a long time the object of this accumu- 
 lation was a matter of conjecture. Late investigations, how- 
 ever, have shown that in the moist and warm atmosphere 
 
QUEER LITTLE FOLKS. 129 
 
 of the nests the leaves ferment and produce minute fungi, 
 upon which the larva of the ants feed. In eifecting this 
 object they seem to have long anticipated man in the con- 
 struction of under-ground beds for the production of mush- 
 rooms and truffles. To a large extent these insects decide 
 upon the kind of vegetation which shall grow in the regions 
 which they inhabit. Only the kinds which the ants do not 
 use can survive. The farm crop to which they take a fancy 
 is destroyed at once. 
 
 4. One of the most noted of the destructive insect com- 
 munities are the termites, which, though scientifically placed 
 in another genus, are usually ranked among the ants, and 
 are popularly known as white ants. In organization the 
 termites resemble the bees, each community owing alle- 
 giance to a single queen, and otherwise divided into males 
 or drones and workers. Unlike the bees, they have a dis- 
 tinct class of soldiers to preserve order and to defend the 
 home. The queen grows to such monstrous size that she 
 can not move, but devotes herself to the business of laying 
 eggs, which she does at the rate of eighty thousand per 
 day. 
 
 5. Some varieties of these termites build dwellings often 
 twenty feet high, pyramidal in shape, and frequently 
 adorned with turrets. These structures are so solid that 
 the wild cattle often climb upon them without crushing 
 their walls. The interiors are divided into chambers, with 
 galleries, that often extend many feet under ground. A vil- 
 lage consisting of the dwellings of the termites presents a 
 very remarkable appearance, and it is almost impossible to 
 believe that it is the work of so diminutive an insect. 
 Were man to build as high proportionally, his structures 
 would be five times as high as the pyramids of Egypt. 
 
 6. Another variety of termites do not build for them- 
 selves, but take possession of human habitations. From 
 their galleries under ground they make their way into 
 
130 
 
 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 dwellings in myriads. They do not appear to the sight, 
 but eat their way into the wood through tiny holes which 
 would be scarcely observable even by minute investigation. 
 Once inside, they literally eat up the whole woody fiber, 
 leaving nothing but a thin outside shell. The posts, the 
 
 Warrior Termites. 
 
 beams, the rafters of the houses, and every wooden thing 
 connected with them, share the same fate. To the eye 
 everything seems right, but suddenly the whole collapses 
 like the Deacon's one - horse shay, nothing remaining but 
 dust, and the uneaten wafer-like surface of the wood. 
 
 7. In Sierra Leone, after a short absence from home, 
 
QUEER LITTLE FOLKS. 131 
 
 the owner will return and find only the ghosts of furniture 
 remaining, which disappear at the first rude touch. A 
 whole staircase is destroyed in two weeks, and tables, chairs, 
 and book-cases in much less time. In Southern France, 
 where the termites have lately made their appearance, pa- 
 pers and clothing have to be protected in metal safes as 
 against burglars. On one occasion the wooden supports of 
 a dining-room were eaten through, and the flooring gave 
 way while a party were dining, much to the derangement 
 of the dinner and to the consternation of the host and 
 guests. 
 
 8. The fire-ants of the Amazon, another omnivorous 
 tribe, are even a worse scourge than the termites. Mr. 
 Bates, the naturalist, says : "The village of Aveyros may 
 be called the head-quarters of the fire-ant, which may be 
 fittingly termed the scourge of this fine river. It is found 
 only in sandy soil and in open places, and seems to thrive 
 most in the neighborhood of houses and weedy villages ; it 
 does not make its home in the shades of the forest. Avey- 
 ros was deserted a few years before my visit on account of 
 this little tormentor, and the inhabitants had only recently 
 returned to their houses, thinking its numbers had de- 
 creased. It is a small species, not greatly differing from 
 the red ant of our own country, except that the pain and 
 irritation caused by its sting are much greater. 
 
 9. "The soil of the whole village is undermined by 
 them ; the ground is perforated with the, entrances to their 
 subterranean galleries, and a little sandy dome shows itself 
 here and there, where the insects bring their young to re- 
 ceive warmth near the surface. The houses are overrun 
 with them ; they dispute every fragment of food with the 
 inhabitants, and destroy clothing for the sake of the starch. 
 All eatables are obliged to be suspended in baskets from the 
 rafters, and the cords well soaked in copaiba-balsam, which 
 is the only means known to prevent them from climbing. 
 
132 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 10. " They seem to attack persons out of sheer malice. 
 If we stood a few moments in the street, even at a distance 
 from their nests, we were sure to be overrun with them, and 
 severely punished, for the moment an ant touched the skin 
 he secured himself with his jaws, doubled in his tail, and 
 stung with all his might. When we were seated on chairs 
 in the evenings, in front of the house, to enjoy a chat with 
 our neighbors, we had stools to support our feet, the legs of 
 which, as well as those of the chairs, were well anointed 
 with the balsam. The cords of hammocks were obliged to 
 be smeared in the same way, to prevent the ants from pay- 
 ing sleepers a visit." 
 
 CARNIVOROUS AND AGRICULTURAL ANTS. 
 
 1. Du CHAILLU has given an admirable description of 
 the driver or army ant of tropical Africa. These ants col- 
 lect in vast armies and march off together in search of food. 
 They belong to the true carnivora, and do no injury to 
 vegetation. The marching column is usually about two 
 inches wide, and it often is several miles in length. They 
 shun the glare of the day, and take up their line of travel by 
 night, or in the dense shade of the woods. When possible, 
 they form covered passage-ways, as through hollow logs 
 and under the fallen leaves, and through these the entire 
 army moves. They attack every form of animal life. 
 When they strike a decayed log, or a heap of vegetable 
 refuse, they at once spread out and enter every crevice, 
 so that the object appears to be a living mass of ants inside 
 and out. They find and instantly devour every insect, grub, 
 and larva which may exist, and then they fall into line and 
 resume their march. 
 
 2. Lions, tigers, and elephants flee at their approach, 
 
QUEER LITTLE FOLKS. 133 
 
 and woe to any crippled animal that is unable to get out of 
 their way; he is doomed, and the ants never leave him 
 until the very marrow is picked out of his bones. The 
 carcass of an elephant or a rhinoceros would stay the 
 march but a few hours. The huge python, lying dor- 
 mant after he has gorged himself, often falls a prey to 
 these marching hordes and is literally eaten up alive. 
 They destroy vast quantities of the eggs of serpents and 
 crocodiles, and so help man by keeping down the numbers 
 of these obnoxious reptiles. 
 
 3. Their visit to a human domicile is both welcomed 
 and dreaded. Their presence is first made known by 
 squeakings and an unusual commotion among the vari- 
 ous pests which infest such habitations. The young and 
 the old now lay hands on their household gods and flee for 
 their lives, happy if they escape from personal molestation 
 from the advanced guards of the grand army. The ants 
 enter into possession, and the work of purgation is soon 
 finished. Rats, mice, and roaches are tracked to their 
 most secret lairs and ruthlessly devoured ; nor do flees and 
 other such small deer escape. The ants are literally every- 
 where ; and, when they leave, the house is swept of every 
 living thing, a condition which, on the whole, amply pays 
 for the brief inconvenience to which the family has been 
 subjected. In some cases sick and aged people have 
 been abandoned in the hasty flight of the family, and have 
 shared the fate of all animal life which, comes in the way 
 of these ants. 
 
 4. The ecitons, or foraging ants of tropical Ameri- 
 ca, in habits are nearly allied to the drivers. Of these 
 Mr. Belt, the naturalist of Nicaragua, says : " The mov- 
 ing columns of ecitons are composed almost entirely 
 of workers of different sizes, but, at intervals of two or 
 three yards, there are larger and lighter-colored individ- 
 uals that often stop and sometimes run a little backward, 
 
134 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 stopping and touching some of the ants with their an- 
 tennae. . They look like officers giving orders and direct- 
 ing the march of the column. 
 
 5. " My attention was generally first called to them by 
 the twittering of some small birds belonging to different 
 species. On approaching, a dense body of the ants, three 
 or four yards wide, and so numerous as to blacken the 
 ground, would be seen moving rapidly in one direction, 
 examining every cranny and underneath every fallen leaf. 
 On the flanks, and in advance of the main body, smaller 
 columns would be pushed out. These smaller columns 
 would generally first flush the cockroaches, grasshoppers, 
 and spiders. The pursued insects would rapidly make off, 
 but many, in their confusion and terror, would bound 
 right into the midst of the main body of ants. At first, 
 the grasshopper, when it found itself in the midst of its 
 enemies, would give vigorous leaps, with perhaps two or 
 three of the ants clinging to its legs. Then it would stop 
 a moment to rest, and that moment would be fatal, for the 
 tiny foes would swarm over the prey, and, after a few more 
 ineffectual struggles, it would succumb to its fate, and 
 soon be bitten to pieces and carried off to the rear. 
 
 6. "The greatest catch of the ants was, however, when 
 they got among some fallen brushwood. The cockroaches, 
 spiders, and other insects, instead of running right away, 
 would ascend the fallen branches and remain there, while 
 the host of ants were occupying all the ground beneath. 
 By and by, up would come some of the ants, following 
 every branch, and driving before them their prey to the 
 ends of the small twigs, where nothing remained for them 
 but to leap, and they would alight in the very throng of 
 their foes, with the result of being certainly caught and 
 pulled to pieces. 
 
 7. "The ants send off exploring parties up the trees, 
 which hunt for nests of wasps, bees, and probably birds. 
 
QUEER LITTLE FOLKS. 135 
 
 If they find any, they soon communicate the intelligence 
 to the army below, and a column is sent up immediately to 
 take possession of the prize. I have seen them pulling out 
 the larvae and pupae from the cells of a large wasps' nest, 
 while the wasps hovered about, powerless, before the mul- 
 titude of the invaders, to render any protection to their 
 young. 
 
 8. " One day, when watching a small column of these 
 ants, I placed a little stone on one of them to secure it. 
 The next that approached, as soon as it discovered its situ- 
 ation, ran backward in an agitated manner, and soon com- 
 municated the intelligence to the others. They rushed to 
 the rescue : some bit at the stone and tried to move it ; 
 others seized the prisoner by the legs, and tugged with 
 such force that I thought the legs would be pulled off ; 
 but they persevered until they got the captive free. I next 
 covered one up with a piece of clay, leaving only the ends 
 of the antennae projecting. It was soon discovered by its 
 fellows, who set to work immediately, and, by biting off 
 pieces of the clay, soon liberated it. 
 
 9. "Another time I found a very few of them passing 
 along at intervals. I confined one of these under a little 
 piece of clay, with his head projecting. Several ants passed 
 it, but at last one discovered it, and tried to pull it up, but 
 it could not. It immediately set off at a great rate, and I 
 thought it had deserted its comrade ; but it had only gone 
 for assistance, for in a short time about, a dozen ants came 
 hurrying up, evidently fully informed of the circumstances 
 of the case, for they made directly for their imprisoned 
 comrade, and soon set him free. The excitement and 
 ardor with which they carried on their exertions for the 
 rescue could not have been greater if they had been human 
 beings." 
 
 10. Of all these tribes, however, the claim for greatest 
 intelligence must be accorded to the agricultural ants of 
 
136 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 western Texas. This species, which has been carefully 
 studied by Dr. Lincecum for the space of twelve years, is, 
 save man, the only creature which does not depend for its 
 sustenance on the products of the chase or the spontaneous 
 fruits of the earth. As soon as a colony of these ants have 
 become sufficiently numerous they clear a tract of ground, 
 some four or five feet in width, around their city. In this 
 plot all existing plants are eradicated, all stones and rub- 
 bish removed, and a peculiar species of grass is sown, the 
 seeds of which resemble very minute grains of rice. The 
 field f or go we must call it is carefully tended by the 
 ants, kept free from weeds, and guarded against marauding 
 insects. When mature, the crop is reaped, and the seeds 
 are carried into the nest. If they are found to be too 
 damp, they are carefully carried out, laid in the sunshine 
 till sufficiently dry, and then housed again. 
 
 11. This formation of a plot of cleared land is a critical 
 point in the career of a young community. Any older and 
 larger city which may lie within some fifty or sixty paces 
 looks upon the step as a cause of war, and at once marches 
 its armies to the attack. After a combat ensues, which 
 may be prolonged for days, Providence declares in favor 
 of the largest battalions, and the less numerous community 
 is exterminated, fighting literally to the last ant. When a 
 colony is unmolested, it increases rapidly in population, 
 and undertakes to lay out roads : one of these, from two 
 to three inches in width, has been traced to one hundred 
 yards from the city. These ants are not very carnivorous, 
 nor do they damage the crops of the neighboring farmers. 
 
 12. Persons who intrude upon their premises are bitten 
 with great zeal, but otherwise the species may be regarded 
 as harmless. One creature alone they seem to tolerate near 
 them, and that is the small, black "erratic ant," which 
 Dr. Lincecum conjectures may be of some use to them, and 
 which is therefore allowed to build its small cities in their 
 
QUEER LITTLE FOLKS. 137 
 
 immediate neighborhood. If it becomes too numerous, 
 however, it is got rid of not by open war, but by a course 
 of systematic, and yet apparently unintentional, annoy- 
 ance. The agriculturists suddenly find it necessary to ex- 
 tend their field and enlarge the base of their city. In 
 carrying out these alterations they literally bury the nests 
 of their neighbors under heaps of the small pellets of soil 
 thrown up by the prairie earth-worms, and continue this 
 process until the erratic ants, in sheer despair, remove to a 
 quieter spot. 
 
 THE PRAYING MANTIS. 
 
 1. SPECIES of insects known as mantids belong to the 
 order Orthoptera, which includes crickets, grasshoppers, 
 cockroaches, locusts, etc. The following figure illustrates 
 the appearance of one of these. They are of bright, varie- 
 gated colors, and are sometimes quite large, even three or 
 four inches in length. The mantis lays its eggs at the end 
 of summer, in rounded, fragile shells, which it attaches to 
 the branches of trees, and which do not hatch till the fol- 
 lowing summer. It differs in locomotion from its orthop- 
 terous relatives, which travel by jumps, while the mantis 
 crawls so slowly that its progress can only be appreciated 
 by careful and prolonged watching. This trait is con- 
 nected with another character by which .the mantis differs 
 from the foregoing groups, for, while they are vegetarians, 
 this insect is carnivorous, and its insidious movements are 
 part of the policy by which it captures the various creat- 
 ures upon which it feeds. 
 
 2. But the mantis is not only a carnivore which lives 
 by killing and devouring other insects, it is also a creature 
 of the most quarrelsome disposition ; in fact, it is a fero- 
 cious cannibal. If two of these insects be shut up together, 
 
138 
 
 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 they engage in a desperate combat ; they deal each other 
 blows with their front legs, and do not leave off fighting 
 until the stronger has succeeded in eating off the other's 
 head. From their very birth the larvae attack each other. 
 In their contests, the male, being smaller than the female, 
 
 The Praying Mantis. 
 
 is often the victim. This pugnacity of the mantis is the 
 source of amusement to children in China. Two mantids 
 are shut up together in a bamboo cage, and the young 
 heathen view with delight the inevitable battle, and the 
 resulting cannibal feast. 
 
QUEER LITTLE FOLKS. . 139 
 
 3. And yet, while its inoffensive orthopterous brethren 
 have got but little credit for their virtues, and are gener- 
 ally reviled as nuisances, this atrocious little savage has 
 had the fortune to acquire a peculiar reputation for wis- 
 dom and saintliness. For thousands of years, and in all 
 parts of the world, it has borne this character. The cause 
 has been that it habitually assumes an attitude that appears 
 devotional, and it was supposed to spend a large portion of 
 its life in prayer. Settled on the ground, it raises its head 
 and thorax, clasps together the joints of its front legs (see 
 cut), and raises them as if in supplication, and remains in 
 this posture for hours together. 
 
 4. A naturalist, who has carefully studied his habits, ob- 
 serves : " He is a very remarkable fellow, powerful alike 
 upon wing or leg, but much given to fits of lethargy and 
 brown-study. His traditional religious exercise, indeed, is 
 simply lying in wait for what the gods may send him in 
 the way of food. He fixes himself, as if in rapt contem- 
 plation, upon some convenient stalk or leaf, and then 
 bends up his chest and shoulders into an almost erect po- 
 sition, pressing together his arms in front, and looking 
 well out before him, with the palpi of his lips slightly 
 vibrating. In this expectant mood he allows himself to 
 be coaxed with the finger, merely staggering back a pace 
 or two, and fixing his goggle-eyes upon the biped who 
 vouchsafes this personal attention. If he lights upon a 
 perpendicular window or wall when in this vein of " re- 
 ligious" ecstasy, he seems to remain for hours together 
 without motion, but all the while he mounts imperceptibly 
 up and up until he reaches the ceiling or roof which limits 
 the chamber in the upward direction. 
 
 5. " The closest watching does not show how this most 
 gradual of all climbings is accomplished. Not a limb can 
 be seen to move, yet up, minute after minute, he glides. 
 It is while he is in these fits of expectant ecstasy that he 
 
140 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 seizes his prey. He is essentially a carnivorous feeder, and 
 pounces stealthily upon any unwary insect that settles 
 within convenient reach, seizing the victim between his 
 upraised legs, and fixing it there between the row of 
 spikelets with which these prehensile limbs are fringed. 
 After a deliberate inspection of the morsel held in this 
 position, he goes to work with his jaws." 
 
 Science Monthly. 
 
 THE KATYDID. 
 
 1. I LOVE to hear thine earnest voice, 
 
 Wherever thou art hid, 
 Thou testy little dogmatist, 
 
 Thou pretty katydid ! 
 Thou mindest me of gentlefolks 
 
 Old gentlefolks are they 
 Thou say'st an undisputed thing 
 
 In such a solemn way. 
 
 2. Thou art a female katydid, 
 
 I know it by the trill 
 That quivers through thy piercing notes, 
 
 So petulant and shrill. 
 I think there is a knot of you 
 
 Beneath the hollow tree 
 A knot of spinster katydids 
 
 Do katydids drink tea ? 
 
 3. Dear me ! I'll tell you all about 
 
 My fuss with little Jane, 
 And Ann, with whom I used to walk 
 So often down the lane ; 
 
QUEER LITTLE FOLKS. 141 
 
 And all that tore their hairs of black, 
 
 Or wet their eyes of blue. 
 Pray tell me, sweetest katydid, 
 
 What did poor Katy do ? 
 
 4. Ah, no ! the living oak shall crash, 
 
 That stood for ages still, 
 The rock shall rend its mossy base, 
 
 And thunder down the hill, 
 Before the little katydid 
 
 Shall add one word, to tell 
 The mystic story of the maid 
 
 Whose name she knows so well. 
 
 5. Peace to the ever-murmuring race ! 
 
 And when the latest one 
 Shall fold in death her feeble wings 
 
 Beneath the autumn sun, 
 Then shall she raise her fainting voice 
 
 And lift her drooping lid, 
 And then the child of future years 
 
 Shall hear what Katy did. 
 
 Holmes, 
 
PART VII. 
 CURIOUS DWELLERS OF SWAMP AND FOREST. 
 
 THE MONARCH OF THE SWAMP. 
 
 1. IN" the old, old time geologists tell us that the earth 
 was inhabited by monstrous beasts, birds, and reptiles, 
 compared with which their present representatives are 
 mere pygmies. Prominent among these were many spe- 
 cies of saurians, reptiles with enormous bodies, short legs, 
 huge jaws, and immense tails, who found the earth a con- 
 genial abiding-place before the lands and the waters were 
 separated, and who evidently lorded it over their amphibious 
 companions. They could swim in the water, or paddle 
 through the mud, and even learned to rest upon the dry 
 land for a brief space when it appeared. The alligators 
 are the survivals of these old saurians, wonderfully shrunk 
 from the dimensions of their progenitors, but still suffi- 
 ciently powerful to remain monarch of the swamp, to which 
 position their structure is eminently fitted. 
 
 2. Like the knights of old, all the exposed parts of 
 their bodies are covered with an impenetrable armor, so 
 that they fear neither the claws of the panther, the fangs 
 of the copperhead, nor the close embrace of the constrictor. 
 The scales which constitute this armor are even rifle-proof, 
 and sportsmen along the Florida rivers see their bullets 
 glance off, producing upon the animal probably only a 
 
CURIOUS DWELLERS OF SWAMP AND FOREST. 143 
 
 slightly uncomfortable shock. Achilles could be wounded 
 only in the heel, but the one vulnerable spot of the alli- 
 gator is the eye, which, cold, cruel, and relentless, is al- 
 ways on the lookout for prey. The soft parts of the 
 body, on the under-side, can scarcely be approached by an 
 enemy, and the only danger to which they are exposed is 
 in the waters of Guiana, where the ferocious little pirari 
 fish nips off their toes. 
 
 3. The tail, which is but a tapering elongation of the 
 body, constituting nearly half the length of the animal, is 
 used as a weapon offensive and defensive. One fair blow 
 of the tail of an adult alligator is enough to dampen the 
 ardor of the fiercest of tigers, and to induce a meditative 
 pause on the part of the most thick-hided rhinoceros. 
 Deer and other animals, which come down to the water 
 to drink, are stunned by a blow of this enormous flail, and 
 are easily borne off into the water to appease an appetite 
 which appears to be insatiable. 
 
 4. But if the alligator were interrogated, he would prob- 
 ably claim that he prided himself upon his jaws more than 
 anything else ; and this with good reason. Its jaw ca- 
 pacity is more largely developed than in any other animal. 
 The head is enormous, extending straight forward in a line 
 with the body and ending in a snout. It is protected by 
 the hardest of bones, and furnished with the toughest and 
 strongest of muscles. It literally splits in two from one 
 extremity to the other, the upper half being hung upon a 
 hinge, which enables it to open as freely as a pair of 
 shears. The cavity thus exposed is armed with a formida- 
 ble set of teeth, the whole constituting an apparatus ad- 
 mirably calculated to crush out all opposition when occa- 
 sion requires. The old lady, listening to the description 
 of an alligator from her sailor son, exclaimed, " Oh, la ! 
 wasn't he a horrid-looking critter ?" "Well/' was the re- 
 ply, "he did not have the most amiable expression in the 
 
144 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 world, but there was much openness about his counte- 
 nance when he smiled." 
 
 5. His color is a muddy brown, and, as he slowly swims 
 along the streams or floats down the current, he can scarce- 
 ly be distinguished from driftwood ; or, as he lies stretched 
 out on the shore, he may easily be mistaken for a half-de- 
 
 AlUgators in Florida Swamp. 
 
 cayed log. But let any animal approach him, and the log 
 at once shoots into astonishing activity, one end being 
 changed into a threshing-machine, and the other into a 
 veritable mill ready to crush and grind any grist which 
 may be offered. The larger animals are glad to make off, 
 congratulating themselves if no bones are broken, while 
 
CURIOUS DWELLERS OF SWAMP AND FOREST. 145 
 
 the smaller ones remain, to form a permanent connection 
 with an individual of whose business activity they have had 
 such convincing proofs. 
 
 6. In fierceness of disposition these saurians seem to 
 vary in just the ratio of their length of jaw, and of their 
 ability to make a wide opening for the accommodation of 
 their friends. The crocodiles of Egypt and India have the 
 longest and most pointed snouts, and are the least amiable 
 of all. They attack man and beast with almost uniform 
 success. They grow to the length of twenty feet, the head 
 comprising about one seventh of the body. Unlike their 
 American cousins, they prefer the flow of the streams to 
 the stagnant waters of the swamp. 
 
 7. Next to these are the alligators of our Southern 
 States. They grow to a length of about fifteen feet, with 
 a nose a little less pointed than that of the crocodile. 
 They are formidable enemies, and are dreaded by all who 
 have occasion to visit the swamps-. When captured young, 
 they may be partially tamed, and, while small, they are 
 often treated as household pets. But as they grow up 
 they become too voracious for profit, and there is a con- 
 stant danger of the old instinct asserting itself as against 
 their artificial training. So, on the whole, they are not 
 considered desirable members of a civilized community. 
 
 8. The cayman of South America is smaller than the 
 alligator, has a blunter nose, and is less ferocious. He is 
 savage enough, however, and the natives 'of those regions 
 hold him in great fear. Sometimes a cayman-hunt, will be 
 organized on a grand scale, and then, if one is hooked and 
 killed, there are great rejoicings. It often happens, how- 
 ever, that the hunted cayman either escapes or in his turn 
 becomes hunter, in which case the rejoicings give place to 
 mourning. 
 
 9. The eggs of these saurians are deposited in the sand 
 near the streams. The cayman pays little attention to 
 
 7 
 
146 
 
 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 them when once deposited, but the crocodiles and alliga- 
 tors watch their nests with jealous care. During March, 
 which is the breeding season, the crocodiles deposit their 
 eggs in the sand on the banks, or, in preference, in small 
 sand-banks or islands on the stream. The eggs, which are 
 white and hard, in size resemble those of a domestic goose. 
 One found on the White Nile measured exactly three 
 inches and a half in length, and five inches and thirteen 
 
 The Nile Crocodile. 
 
 sixteenths in circumference. The care and anxiety be- 
 stowed by these ferocious creatures upon their eggs is as- 
 tonishing. When about to lay, the female crocodile will 
 dig with her claws a hole in the sand, six inches deep, drop 
 her egg therein, and cover it up. She will then make 
 several holes around the first, to mislead those in search of 
 her treasure. Every day she will add a fresh egg to her 
 store, at the same time carefully enlarging the excavation, 
 
CURIOUS DWELLERS OF SWAMP AND FOREST. 147 
 
 turning them and re-covering them with sand. After they 
 are hatched by the sun's rays, the mother will place her 
 young in the shallow water of a retired creek, where she will 
 nourish them until they are capable of feeding themselves. 
 
 10. An Egyptian sportsman, who supported himself 
 and his family by the produce of his gun, with three of 
 his neighbors, went to an island a favorite resort of croco- 
 diles to hunt for their eggs. As they were going round 
 the island, three crocodiles escaped into the river. On 
 examining the spot, a quantity of eggs was discovered in 
 the sand. These they secured, and were proceeding back 
 to their tent, when a crocodile who had watched the trans- 
 action rushed to the place of her deposit, and as rapidly 
 returned to the river, and, swimming, followed them oppo- 
 site to their abode, where until nightfall her eyes were seen 
 above the water. The sportsmen feasted sumptuously upon 
 their spoil ; but as soon as the last embers of their fire had 
 died away, the crocodile charged them furiously, repeating 
 her attacks several times during the night ; and it was only 
 by the frequent discharge of their fire-arms that they kept 
 her off at all. 
 
 11. This crocodile, which had hitherto remained harm- 
 less, now became furious, and attacked all the cattle it 
 could catch upon the river-side. Among the victims was a 
 fine mare in a neighboring village, who, as usual, was al- 
 lowed to graze in the coarse, abundant pasturage. One 
 day, while drinking, she was seized in the 'back of the neck 
 by the jaws of the crocodile. The mare, being a powerful 
 animal, in an agony of pain threw up her head. The 
 crocodile dropped upon her back, and with her strange 
 burden the mare galloped off to her stable. The aston- 
 ished villagers immediately set upon the crocodile with their 
 stout sticks, until she was induced to let go her hold and 
 dismount ; but the mare died from the joint effect of her 
 wounds and the fright. 
 
148 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 CAPTURE OF A CAYMAN. 
 
 1. THE cayman is the terror and scourge of all the 
 large rivers in South America near the line. Perhaps no 
 animal in existence bears more decided marks of cruelty 
 and malice than the cayman. His mouth is armed with 
 thirty-two formidable teeth in each jaw, but he has no 
 grinders ; he is made to snatch and swallow. The back of 
 the cayman may be said to be almost impenetrable to a 
 musket-ball, but his sides are not nearly so hard ; indeed, 
 were the sides as hard and unyielding as the other parts of 
 his body, there would not be elasticity enough to admit of 
 expansion after taking in a supply of food. 
 
 2. I was exceedingly anxious to capture a cayman for 
 the purpose of dissection. To this end we went up the 
 Essequibo Eiver to a creek which abounded in the game 
 we were seeking. Here I baited hooks for several nights, 
 and, although caymans were seen in plenty, they were too 
 wary to be caught. Several times they came up and took 
 the bait off the hooks. The Indians told me the cayman 
 would never be captured by a hook like the one we used, 
 and I finally became convinced that this was true. As a 
 last resort, one of the Indians prepared a hook and bait of 
 his own and placed it carefully in the water. He then 
 took the empty shell of a tortoise and gave it some heavy 
 blows with an axe. I asked him why he did that. He said 
 that it was to let the cayman hear that something was 
 going on. In fact, the Indian meant it for the cayman's 
 dinner-bell. 
 
 3. Having done this, we went back to the hammocks, 
 not intending to visit it again till morning. During the 
 night the jaguars roared and grumbled in the forest, as 
 though the world was going wrong with them, and at in- 
 tervals we could hear the distant cayman. The roaring 
 
CURIOUS DWELLERS OF SWAMP AND FOREST. 149 
 
 of the jaguars was awful, but it was music to the dismal 
 noise of these hideous and malicious reptiles. About half 
 past five in the morning the Indian stole off silently to take 
 a look at the bait. On arriving at the place, he set up a 
 tremendous shout. We all jumped out of our hammocks 
 and ran to him. The Indians got there before me, for 
 they had no clothes to put on, and I lost two minutes in 
 looking for my trousers and in slipping into them. 
 
 4. We found a cayman, ten and a half feet long, fast at 
 the end of the rope. Nothing now remained to do but to 
 get him out of the water without injuring his scales. We 
 mustered eight strong. I informed the Indians it was my 
 intention to draw him quietly out of the water, and then 
 secure him. They looked and stared at each other, and 
 said I might do it myself, but they would have no hand in 
 it ; the cayman would worry some of us. On saying this, 
 they squatted on their hams with the most perfect indif- 
 ference. 
 
 5. Daddy Quashi, my negro factotum, was for applying 
 to our guns as usual, considering them our best and safest 
 friends. I immediately offered to knock him down for his 
 cowardice, and he shrunk back, begging that I would be 
 cautious and not get worried. My Indian was now in con- 
 versation with the others, and they asked if I would allow 
 them to shoot a dozen arrows into him, and thus disable 
 him. This would have ruined all. I had come above 
 three hundred miles on purpose to get. a cayman unin- 
 jured, and not to carry back a mutilated specimen. I 
 rejected this proposition with firmness, and darted a dis- 
 dainful eye upon the Indians. 
 
 6. Daddy Quashi was again beginning to remonstrate, 
 and I chased him on the sand-bank for a quarter of a mile. 
 He told me afterward he thought he should have dropped 
 down dead with fright, for he was firmly persuaded, if I 
 had caught him, I should have bundled him into the cay- 
 
150 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 man's jaws. Here, then, we stood in silence. They wanted 
 to kill him, and I wanted to take him alive. 
 
 7. I now walked up and down the sand, revolving a 
 dozen projects in my head. The canoe was at a con- 
 siderable distance, and I ordered the people to bring it 
 round to the place where we were. The mast was eight 
 feet long, and not much thicker than my wrist. I took it 
 out of the canoe and wrapped the sail around the end of it. 
 Now it appeared clear to me that, if I went down upon one 
 knee, and held the mast in the same position as a soldier 
 holds his bayonet when rushing to a charge, I could force 
 it down the cayman's throat, should he come open-mouthed 
 at me. When this was told to the Indians they bright- 
 ened up, and said they would help me pull him out of the 
 river. 
 
 8. " Brave squad!" said I to myself, "now that you 
 have got me between yourselves and danger." I then mus- 
 tered all hands for battle. We were, four South American 
 Indians, two negroes from Africa, a Creole from Trinidad, 
 and myself, a white man from Yorkshire. Daddy Quashi 
 hung in the rear. I showed him a large Spanish knife 
 which I carried ; it spoke volumes to him, and he shrugged 
 his shoulders in absolute despair. 
 
 9. The sun was just peeping over the high forests on 
 the eastern hills, as if coming to look on and bid us act 
 with becoming fortitude. I placed all the people at the 
 end of the rope, and ordered them to pull till the cayman 
 appeared on the surface of the water ; and then, should 
 he plunge, to slacken the rope and let him go again into 
 the deep. I now took the mast in my hand, and sunk 
 down upon one knee about four yards from the water's 
 edge. The people pulled the cayman to the surface ; he 
 plunged furiously as soon as he arrived in these upper re- 
 gions, and went below again on their slackening the rope. 
 I saw enough not to fall in love with him at first sight. 
 
CURIOUS DWELLERS OF SWAMP AND FOREST. 151 
 
 10. I now told them we would run all risks, and have 
 him on land immediately. They pulled again, and out he 
 came. This was an interesting moment. I kept my po- 
 sition firmly, with my eyes fixed steadfast on him. By this 
 time he was within two yards of me. I saw he was in a 
 state of fear and perturbation. I instantly dropped the 
 mast, sprang up, and jumped upon his back, turning half 
 round as I vaulted, so that I gained my seat in the right 
 position. I immediately seized his fore-legs, and, by main 
 force, twisted them on his back ; thus they served me for 
 a bridle. 
 
 11. He now seemed to have recovered from his surprise, 
 and, probably fancying himself in hostile company, he be- 
 gan to plunge furiously, and lashed the sand with his pow- 
 erful tail. I was out of reach of the strokes of it by being 
 near the head. He continued to plunge and strike, and 
 made my seat very uncomfortable. It must have been a 
 fine sight for an unconcerned spectator. The people 
 roared out in triumph, and were so vociferous that it was 
 some time before they heard me tell them to pull me and 
 my steed farther inland. I was apprehensive the rope 
 might break, and then there would be every chance of my 
 going down to the regions under water with the cayman. 
 The people now dragged us about forty feet on the sand ; 
 it was the first and last time I was ever on a cayman's 
 back. 
 
 12. After repeated attempts to regain his liberty, the 
 cayman gave in, and became tranquil through exhaustion. 
 I now managed to tie up his jaws, and firmly secured his 
 fore-feet in the position I had held them. We had now 
 another severe struggle for superiority, but he was soon 
 overcome, and again remained quiet. While some of the 
 people were pressing upon his head and shoulders, I threw 
 myself on his tail, and, by keeping it down in the sand, 
 prevented him from kicking up another dust. He was 
 
152 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 finally conveyed to the canoe, and then to the place where 
 we had suspended our hammocks. Here he was put to 
 death as gently as possible, and, after breakfast was over, 
 I commenced the work of dissection. 
 
 Charles Waterton. 
 
 TUSSLE WITH A CONSTRICTOR. 
 
 1. I WISHED to find a good-sized snake, and capture 
 him if possible, and I offered a reward to any of the 
 negroes who would find one in the forest and come and 
 let me know. One Sunday morning I met one of them 
 in the forest with a little dog with him, and he told me he 
 was going to hunt armadillos. On coming back, about 
 noon, the little dog began to bark at the root of a large 
 tree, and, on going up to see what was the matter, he dis- 
 covered a snake, and hastened back to inform me. 
 
 2. The sun had just passed the meridian in a cloudless 
 sky ; there was scarcely a bird to be seen, for the winged 
 inhabitants of the forest, as though overcome by heat, had 
 retired to the thickest shade ; all would have been like 
 midnight silence were it not for the shrill voice of the 
 pe-pe-yo every now and then resounding from a distant 
 tree. I was sitting on the steps of an old, dismantled 
 building when the negro and his little dog came down the 
 hill in haste, and I was soon informed that a snake had 
 been discovered ; but it was a young one, called the bush- 
 master, a rare and poisonous reptile. 
 
 3. I instantly rose up, and, laying hold of the eight-foot 
 lance, which was close by " Well, then," said I, " we'll go 
 and have a look at the snake." I was barefoot, with a 
 hat and check shirt and trousers on, and a pair of braces 
 to keep them up. The negro had his cutlass, and, as we 
 ascended the hill, another negro, armed with a cutlass, 
 
CURIOUS DWELLERS OF SWAMP AND FOREST. 153 
 
 joined us, judging from our pace that there was something 
 to do. The little dog came along with us, and when we 
 had got about a mile into the forest the negro stopped, 
 and pointed to the fallen tree. I told the negroes not to 
 stir from the place where they were, and to keep the little 
 dog in, and that I would go on and reconnoiter. 
 
 4. I advanced up to the place slowly and cautiously. 
 The snake was well concealed, but at last I made him out ; 
 it was a coulacanara, not poisonous, but large enough to 
 have crushed any of us to death. He was something more 
 than fourteen feet long. This species of snake is very 
 rare, and is much thicker, in proportion to his length, than 
 any other snake in the forest. A coulacanara fourteen 
 feet in length is as thick as a common boa of twenty-four. 
 On ascertaining the size of the snake, I retired slowly the 
 way I came. Aware that the day was on the decline, and 
 that the approach of night would be detrimental to the 
 dissection, a thought struck me that I could take him 
 alive. 
 
 5. When I told this to the negroes, they begged and 
 entreated me to let them go for a gun and more force, as 
 they were sure the snake would kill some of us. But I had 
 been in search of a large serpent for years, and now, having 
 come up with one, it did not become me to turn soft. So, 
 taking the cutlass from one of the negroes, and ranging 
 them both behind me, I told them to follow me, and that 
 I would cut them down if they offered to fly. I smiled as 
 I said this, but they shook their heads in silence, and seemed 
 to have but a bad heart of i fc. 
 
 6. When we got to the place, the serpent had not stirred, 
 but I could see nothing of his head. A species of woodbine 
 had formed a complete mantle over the fallen tree, almost 
 impervious to the rain or the rays of the sun. Probably he 
 had resorted to this sequestered place for a length of time, 
 as it bore the marks of ancient settlement. I now took my 
 
154 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 knife to cut away the woodbine and twigs till I could get 
 a good view of his head. One negro stood guard close be- 
 hind me with the lance, and near him the other with a 
 cutlass. The cutlass which I had taken from the first ne- 
 gro was on the ground close by in case of need. 
 
 7. After working in dead silence for a quarter of an 
 hour, with one knee all the time on the ground, I had 
 cleared away enough to see his head. It appeared coming 
 out between the first and second coil of his body, and was 
 flat on the ground. This was the very position I wished 
 him to be in. I rose in silence, and retreated very slowly, 
 making a sign to the negroes to do the same. The dog 
 was sitting at a distance in mute observance. I could now 
 read in the faces of the negroes that they considered this a 
 very unpleasant affair, and they made another attempt to 
 persuade me to let them go for a gun. I smiled in a good- 
 natured manner, and made a feint to cut them down with 
 the weapon I had in my hand. This was all the answer I 
 made to their request, and they looked very uneasy. 
 
 8. We were now about twenty yards from the snake's 
 den. I ranged the negroes behind me, and told him who 
 stood next me to lay hold of the lance the moment I struck 
 the snake, and that the other must attend to my move- 
 ments. It now only remained for me to take their cut- 
 lasses from them, for I was sure, if I did not disarm them, 
 they would be tempted to strike the snake in time of dan- 
 ger, and thus for ever spoil his skin. They seemed to re- 
 gard this as an act of- intolerable tyranny in me, and 
 probably nothing kept them from bolting but the conso- 
 lation that I was to be between them and the snake. In- 
 deed, my own heart, in spite of all I could do, beat quicker 
 than usual. 
 
 9. We went slowly on in silence, without moving our 
 arms or heads, in order to prevent all alarm as much as 
 possible, lest the snake should glide. off, or attack us in 
 
CURIOUS DWELLERS OF SWAMP AND FOREST. 155 
 
 self-defense. I carried the lance perpendicularly before 
 me, with the point about a foot from the ground. The 
 snake had not moved ; and, on getting up to him, I struck 
 him with the lance on the near side, just behind the neck, 
 and pinned him to the ground. That moment the negro 
 next me seized the lance and held it firmly in its place, 
 while I dashed head foremost into the den to grapple with 
 the snake and get hold of his tail before he could do any 
 mischief. 
 
 10. On pinning him to the ground with the lance, he 
 gave a tremendous loud hiss, and the little dog ran away, 
 howling as he went. We had a sharp fray in the den, the 
 rotten sticks flying upon all sides, and each party strug- 
 gling for superiority. I called out to the second negro to 
 throw himself upon me, as I found I was not heavy enough. 
 He did so, and the additional weight was of great service. 
 I had now got firm hold of his tail, and, after a violent 
 struggle or two, he gave in, finding himself overpowered. 
 This was the moment to secure him. So, while the first 
 negro continued to hold the lance firm to the ground, and 
 the other was helping me, I contrived to unloose my braces, 
 and with them tied up the snake's mouth. 
 
 11. The snake, now finding himself in an unpleasant 
 situation, tried to better himself, and set resolutely to 
 work, but we overpowered him. We contrived to make 
 him twist himself round the shaft of the lance, and then 
 prepared to convey him out of the forest. I stood by the 
 head, and held it firmly under my arm ; one negro sup- 
 ported the middle, and the other the tail. In this order 
 we began to move slowly toward home, and reached it 
 after resting ten times, for the snake was too heavy for us 
 to support him without stopping to recruit our strength. 
 As we proceeded onward with him he fought hard for free- 
 dom, but all in vain. The day was now too far spent to 
 think of dissecting him. If I killed him, a partial putre- 
 
156 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 faction would take place before morning, so I concluded to 
 put him into a very strong bag which I had brought with 
 me, and keep him alive till daylight. After securing his 
 mouth afresh, we forced him into the bag, and left him to 
 his fate. 
 
 12. I can not say that he allowed me to have a very 
 quiet night. My hammock was in the loft just above 
 him, and the floor between us had half gone to decay. 
 He was very restless and fretful ; and, had Medusa been 
 my wife, there could not have been more disagreeable hiss- 
 ing in my bed-chamber that night. At daybreak I bor- 
 rowed ten negroes to assist in taking him out of the bag. 
 We held him down by main force until I killed him. By 
 six in the evening he was completely dissected. On examin- 
 ing his teeth, I observed that they were all bent like tenter- 
 hooks, pointing down his throat, and not large or strong ; but 
 they are exactly suited to what they are intended by nature 
 to perform. The snake does not masticate his food, and 
 thus the only service his teeth have to perform is to seize 
 the prey and hold it till he swallows it alive. 
 
 13. During this fray my old negro, Daddy Quashi, was 
 absent, and returned just in time to help me take off the 
 skin. He had a particular horror for snakes, and the next 
 week I had an opportunity to put this weakness to the test. 
 Having left my umbrella in the forest, I took Daddy Quashi 
 to help me look for it. While he was searching about, I 
 came to the scene of my late conflict, and in an old timber 
 path I observed a young coulacanara, ten feet long, slowly 
 moving onward ; I saw he was not thick enough to break 
 my arm in case he got twisted around it. There was not a 
 moment to be lost. I laid hold of his tail with my left 
 hand ; with my right I took off my hat, and held it as you 
 would hold a shield for defense. 
 
 14. The snake instantly turned and came on to me, 
 with his head about a yard from the ground, as if to ask 
 
CURIOUS DWELLERS OF SWAMP AND FOREST. 157 
 
 me what business I had to take liberties with his tail. I 
 let him come, hissing and open-mouthed, within two feet 
 of my face, and then, with all the force I was master of, I 
 drove my fist, shielded by my hat, full in his jaws. He 
 was stunned and confounded by the blow, and, ere he could 
 recover himself, I had seized his throat with both hands in 
 such a position that he could not bite me ; I then allowed 
 him to coil himself about my body, and marched off with 
 him as my lawful prize. He pressed me hard, but not 
 alarmingly so. Daddy Quashi now came up with the um- 
 brella. As soon as he saw me, and in what company I was, 
 he ran off home, I after him, shouting to increase his fear. 
 On scolding him for his cowardice, the old rogue begged 
 that I would forgive him, for that the sight of the snake 
 had positively made him sick at the stomach. 
 
 Charles Waterton. 
 
 CHAMELEONS; THEIR HABITS AND COLOR- 
 CHANGES. 
 
 1. IN consequence of the incredible stories anciently 
 told of the chameleon, one is hardly disposed to regard 
 that animal as a reality ; it appears to find its proper place 
 in mythology rather than in natural history among fabled 
 dragons, centaurs, and griffins, rather than among the 
 actualities of the animal kingdom. The chameleon, how- 
 ever, has a real existence ; and, after fiction and fable are 
 brushed aside, a very curious creature indeed remains. It 
 belongs to the Saurian order (lizards). The genus Chamceleo 
 embraces about twenty species, none of them American. 
 With one exception, the common chameleon, which is natu- 
 ralized in Southern Spain and in Sicily, these animals are 
 found only in the warmer parts of Africa and Asia. 
 
158 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 2. The chameleon is from ten to fifteen inches in length, 
 whereof one half is represented by the prehensile tail. The 
 body is roughly pyramidal in shape ; the skin is covered 
 with papillous elevations instead of scales, and these, in 
 some of the species, assume the shape of spiny processes 
 along the ridge of the back and the median line of the 
 chest and belly. The toes, five in number, are divided into 
 two opposable sets of two and three, the toes of each set 
 being webbed down to the claws, which are long and sharp. 
 The head is angular, rising into a pyramidal occiput. The 
 
 UH 
 
 The Chameleon. 
 
 eyeball is very large, protruding, covered with a single lid, 
 which has a minute aperture in the center for the very 
 small pupil. There is no external ear. 
 
 3. The tongue is extensible to the length of half of the 
 total length of the animal that is, from five to seven inches. 
 The lungs are large, and connect with air-cells underlying 
 the skin. The neck is so short as to prevent the head be- 
 ing turned from side to side. Though the chameleon is 
 arboreal in its habits, it is very slow in its movements. It 
 is unprovided with any weapons of defense against its ene- 
 
CURIOUS DWELLERS OF SWAMP AND FOREST. 159 
 
 mies. The female lays about thirty eggs, which are de- 
 posited in a hollow in the ground, and covered with loose 
 earth. 
 
 4. The immobility of the chameleon distinguishes it 
 markedly from the rest of the lizard tribe, which are gen- 
 erally active and quick in their movements. Alfred Brehm 
 states that the chameleon never moves at all except from 
 necessity ; it will remain in one position on a branch or 
 twig for hours at a time, firmly grasping with tail and 
 paws the object on which it is perched. The eyes, on the 
 contrary, are nearly always in motion. In their battles 
 they use their teeth, but without doing serious injury ; and 
 they have a curious way of solemnly lashing one another 
 with their tails. But such activity as this is exceptional 
 in the chameleon : it is 'to be seen especially in the pairing 
 season. 
 
 5. When preying on winged insects, the chameleon is 
 seen occasionally to protrude the knobbed end of his tongue, 
 and in an instant that member is shot forth and again re- 
 tracted, bearing the prey into the captor's mouth. The 
 extremity of the tongue exudes a sticky substance on which 
 the prey is caught. When flies and other winged insects 
 are not to be had, the chameleon's swivel-eyes scan the 
 trunk of the tree, and the branches above, below, and on 
 all sides around, to see if any creeping thing may be caught. 
 If any such creature is approaching the spot where the 
 chameleon is lying, he waits till it comes within striking 
 distance, and then "discharges" his tongue at it. 
 
 6. But, if the creature is traveling away from him, he 
 pursues, though with grave deliberation. If the prey comes 
 very near to his muzzle, the chameleon retreats a little, to 
 increase the distance, and then darts out his tongue. In 
 performing this act, the chameleon displays very great 
 activity ; otherwise, all his movements are the reverse of 
 precipitate. Thus, if he would change from his normal 
 
160 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 position of absolute quietude his belly resting on a hori- 
 zontal branch, which he grasps as firmly as he can with all 
 five hands (for his tail is a fifth hand) he first advances 
 one of the fore-paws one step ; then the tail is relaxed, 
 advanced an equal distance, and again coiled tight ; next 
 the other feet are advanced a step, one after another ; and 
 so on. It is not easy to recognize the propriety of the name 
 little lion (Chameleon) given to this reptilian tardigrade by 
 the ancient Greeks. And the animal is as harmless as it is 
 slow of movement, though the ancients supposed that in 
 the dog-days it assumes some of the lion's ferocity. 
 
 7. The large, projecting eyeballs of the chameleon are 
 capable of a great variety of movements ; and, what is very 
 curious, each of them may, and usually does, act inde- 
 pendently of the other. This circumstance compensates 
 for the fixedness of the head, enabling the animal to direct 
 its glances on all sides, without the necessity of calling into 
 play any muscles save those of the eyeball. Still, when 
 about to strike, the chameleon brings both of its eyes to 
 bear upon the object. 
 
 8. " Notwithstanding," says "Weissenbaum, " the strictly 
 symmetrical construction of the chameleon as to its two 
 halves, the eyes move independently of each other, and 
 convey different impressions to the different centers of 
 perception : the consequence is that, when the animal is 
 agitated, its movements appear like those of two animals 
 glued together. Each half wishes to move its own way, 
 and there is no concert of action. The chameleon, there- 
 fore, is not able to swim like other animals ; it is so fright- 
 ened when put into water that the faculty of concentration 
 is lost, and it tumbles about as if in a state of intoxication. 
 Nay, more, the chameleon may be asleep on one side and 
 awake on the other." 
 
 9. The chameleon is often seen to inhale air, gulp after 
 gulp, with great avidity, thus inflating its body enormously, 
 
CURIOUS DWELLERS OF SWAMP AND FOREST. 161 
 
 even to the feet and tail. As has been already stated, the 
 animal's lungs are very large so large, indeed, that it was 
 supposed by Pliny, who simply transcribes the accounts 
 given by Greek authors, that the lungs almost filled the 
 entire cavity of the body ; these lungs connect with the 
 air-cells beneath the skin. By taking air into the lungs, 
 whence it passes into the air-cells, the chameleon is able to 
 innate itself to as much as twice its ordinary size ; and often 
 it remains so inflated for a long time, now slightly collaps- 
 ing, again swelling out, till the skin becomes as tense as the 
 head of a dram. No doubt it was this power of self-infla- 
 tion which led the ancients to suppose that, " alone among 
 animals, the chameleon neither eats nor drinks, its only 
 sustenance being air." 
 
 10. But the color-changes of the chameleon form per- 
 haps the most interesting phenomenon connected with this 
 animal. We need not repeat the fabulous stories told about 
 these color-changes : the facts which can be strictly verified 
 by direct observation are wonderful enough without the 
 adornments of imagination. These changes of color range 
 from whity-yellow, through yellow, bright and dark green, 
 to dull black ; and these diversities of coloration may affect 
 the entire surface of the animal, or one or other of its sides, 
 or may appear only in spots. When the chameleon is asleep, 
 and not exposed to the direct rays of the sun, its color is a 
 whity-yellow ; when basking in the sun, it is a dingy black 
 or dusky brown. On being aroused from sleep, the side 
 which is first awakened assumes a darker shade. There is 
 reason for believing that sunlight, apart from the warmth 
 which accompanies it, is very grateful to the chameleon, 
 and, in response to this stimulus, he at once begins his 
 play of color. Sdence MontUy 
 
162 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 THE CHAMELEON. 
 
 1. OFT has it been my lot to mark 
 
 A proud, conceited, talking spark, 
 Returning from his finished tour, 
 Grown ten times perter than before : 
 Whatever word you chance to drop, 
 The traveled fool your mouth would stop. 
 " Sir, if my judgment you'll allow, 
 I've seen, and sure I ought to know." 
 So begs you pay a due submission, 
 And acquiesce in his decision. 
 
 2. Two travelers of such a cast, 
 
 As o'er Arabia's wilds they passed, 
 And on their way, in friendly chat, 
 Now talked of this, and then of that ; 
 Discoursed a while, 'mongst other matter. 
 Of the chameleon's form and nature. 
 
 3. "A stranger animal," cried one, 
 
 " Sure never lived beneath the sun : 
 A lizard's body, lean and long, 
 A fish's head, a serpent's tongue, 
 Its tooth with triple claws disjoined, 
 And what a length of tail behind ! 
 How slow its pace ! and then its hue, 
 Whoever saw so fine a blue ! " 
 
 4. " Hold there ! " the other quick replies ; 
 " 'Tis green : I saw it with these eyes, 
 As late with open mouth it lay, 
 
 And warmed itself in the sunny ray ; 
 Stretched at its ease the beast I viewed, 
 And saw it eat the air for food." 
 
CURIOUS DWELLERS OF SWAMP AND FOREST. 163 
 
 5. " I've seen it, sir, as well as you, 
 And must again affirm it blue ; 
 At leisure I the beast surveyed, 
 Extended in the cooling shade." 
 
 6. "'Tis green ! 'tip green, sir, I assure ye." 
 " Green ! " cries the other, in a fury ; 
 "Why, sir, d'ye think I've lost my eyes ?" 
 "'Twere no great loss," the friend replies ; 
 "For if they always serve you thus, 
 You'll find them but of little use." 
 
 7. So high at last the contest rose, 
 
 From words they almost came to blows, 
 When luckily came by a third ; 
 To him the question they referred, 
 And begged he'd tell them if he knew 
 Whether the thing was green or blue. 
 
 8. " Sirs," cried the umpire, "cease your pother ; 
 The creature's neither one nor t'other ; 
 
 I caught the animal last night, 
 And viewed him o'er by candle-light ; 
 I marked it well, 'twas black as jet 
 You stare, but, sirs, I've got it yet, 
 And can produce it." "Pray, sir, do ; 
 I'll lay my life the thing is blue." 
 
 9. "And I'll be sworn that when.ye've seen 
 The reptile, you'll pronounce it green." 
 " Well, then, at once to end this doubt," 
 Replies the man, " I'll turn him out ; 
 And when before }^our eyes I've set him, 
 If you don't find him black, I'll eat him," 
 He said ; then full before their sight 
 Produced the beast, and lo ! 'twas white. 
 
 Merriek. 
 
PART VIII. 
 OUR FOREST CHORISTERS. 
 
 SONGSTERS OF THE GARDEN. 
 
 1. FOR many years I have been in the habit of noting 
 down some of the leading events of my embowered soli- 
 tude, such as the coming of certain birds and the like, 
 after the fashion of White of Selborne, rather than prop- 
 erly digested natural history. I thought it not impossible 
 that a few'simple stories of my winged acquaintances might 
 be found entertaining by persons of kindred taste. 
 
 2. The return of the robin is commonly announced by 
 the newspapers, like that of eminent and notorious people to 
 a watering-place, as the first authentic notification of spring. 
 And such his appearance in the orchard and garden un- 
 doubtedly is. But, in spite of his name of migratory 
 thrush, he stays with us all winter, and I have seen him 
 when the thermometer marked fifteen degrees below zero, 
 armed impregnably within like Emerson's titmouse, and as 
 cheerful as he. 
 
 3. The robin has a bad reputation among people, who 
 do not value themselves less, for being fond of cherries. 
 There is, I admit, a spice of vulgarity in him, and his song, 
 rather of the Bloomfield sort, too largely ballasted with 
 prose. His ethics are of the Poor Richard school, and the 
 main chance which calls forth all his energies is altogether 
 
OUR FOREST CHORISTERS. 165 
 
 of the belly. He never has those fine intervals of lunacy 
 into which his cousins, the cat-bird and the mavis, are apt 
 to fall. But, for a 7 that and twice as muckle 's a' that, I 
 would not exchange him for all the cherries that ever came 
 out of Asia Minor. With whatever faults, he has not 
 wholly forfeited that superiority which belongs to the chil- 
 dren of nature. 
 
 4. The robins are not good solo-singers, but their cho- 
 rus, as, like primitive fire-worshipers, they hail the return 
 of light and warmth, is unrivaled. There are a hundred 
 singing like one. They are noisy enough then, and sing, 
 as poets should, with no afterthought. But when they 
 come after cherries to the tree near rny window, they muf- 
 fle their voices, and their faint " pip, pip, pop ! " sounds 
 far away at the bottom of the garden, where they know I 
 shall not suspect them of robbing the great walnut-tree of 
 its bitter-rinded store. They are feathered Pecksniffs, to 
 be sure, but then how brightly their breasts, that look 
 rather shabby in the sunlight, shine on a rainy day against 
 the dark green of the fringe-tree ! After they have pinched 
 and shaken all the life out of an earthworm, as Italian 
 cooks pound all the spirit out of a steak, and then gulp 
 him, they stand up in honest self -confidence, expand their 
 red waistcoats with the virtuous air of a lobby member, 
 and outface you with an eye that calmly challenges inquiry. 
 " Do I look like a bird that knows the flavor of raw ver- 
 min ? I throw myself upon a jury of my peers." 
 
 5. Ask any robin if he ever ate anything less ascetic 
 than the frugal berry of the juniper, and he will answer 
 that " his vows forbid him." Can such a bosom cover such 
 depravity ? Alas, yes ! I have no doubt his breast was 
 redder at that very moment with the blood of my raspber- 
 ries. On the whole, he is a doubtful friend of the garden. 
 He makes his dessert on all kinds of berries, and is not 
 averse to early pears. But when we remember how om- 
 
166 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 nivorous he is, eating his own weight in an incredibly 
 short time, and that Nature seems exhaustless in her inven- 
 tion of new insects hostile to vegetation, perhaps we may 
 reckon that he does more good than harm. For my part, 
 I would rather have his cheerfulness and kind neighbor- 
 hood than many berries. 
 
 6. For his cousin, the cat-bird, I have a still warmer re- 
 gard. Always a good singer, he sometimes nearly equals 
 the brown thrush, and has the merit of keeping up his 
 music later in the evening than any bird of my familiar 
 acquaintance. Ever since I can remember, a pair of them 
 have built in a gigantic syringa near our front door, and 
 I have known the male to sing almost uninterruptedly, 
 during the evenings of early summer, till twilight darkened 
 into dark. They differ greatly in vocal talent, but all have 
 a delightful way of crooning over, and, as it were, rehears- 
 ing their song in an undertone, which makes their near- 
 ness always unobtrusive. Though there is the most trust- 
 worthy witness to the imitative propensity of this bird, I 
 have only once, during an intimacy of more than forty years, 
 heard him indulge it. In that case the imitation was by no 
 means so close as to deceive, but a free reproduction of the 
 notes of some other birds, especially of the oriole, as a kind 
 of variation of his own song. 
 
 7. The cat-bird is as shy as the robin is familiar. Only 
 when his nest or his fledglings are approached does he be- 
 come noisy and aggressive. I have known him to station 
 his young in a thick cornel-bush, on the edge of the rasp- 
 berry-bed, after the fruit began to ripen, and feed them 
 there for a week or more. In such cases he shows none of 
 that conscious guilt which the robin shows. On the con- 
 trary, he will maintain his post in the thicket, and sharply 
 scold the intruder who ventures to steal Ms berries. After 
 all, his claim is only for tithes, while the robin will bag 
 your entire crop if he gets a chance. 
 
OUR FOREST CHORISTERS. 167 
 
 8. Dr. Watts's statement that " birds in their little nests 
 agree," like too many others intended to form the infant 
 mind, is far from being true. On the contrary, the most 
 peaceful relations of the different species to each other is 
 that of armed neutrality. They are very jealous of their 
 neighbors. A few years ago I was much interested in 
 the house-building of a pair of summer yellow-birds. They 
 had chosen a very pretty site near the top of a tall white 
 lilac, within easy eye-shot of a chamber-window. A very 
 pleasant thing it was to see their little home growing with 
 mutual help, to watch their industrious skill interrupted 
 only by little flirts and snatches of endearment, frugally 
 cut short by the common sense of the tiny housewife. 
 They had brought their work nearly to an end, and had 
 already begun to line it with fern-down, the gatherings of 
 which demanded more distant journeys and longer ab- 
 sences. 
 
 9. But, alas ! the syringa, immemorial manor of the cat- 
 birds, was not more than twenty feet away, and these 
 "giddy neighbors" had, as it appeared, been all along 
 jealously watchful, though silent, witnesses of what they 
 deemed an intrusion of squatters. No sooner were the 
 pretty mates fairly gone for a new load of lining than 
 
 " To their unguarded nests these weasel Scots came steal- 
 
 ing." 
 
 Silently they flew back and forth, each giving a vengeful 
 dab at the nest in passing. They did not fall to and delib- 
 erately destroy the nest, for they might have been caught 
 at their mischief. As it was, whenever the yellow-birds 
 came back, their enemies were hidden in their own sight- 
 proof bush. Several times their unconscious victims re- 
 paired damages, but at length, after counsel taken together, 
 they gave it up. Perhaps, like other unlettered folk, they 
 came to the conclusion that the devil was in it, and yielded 
 to the invisible persecutions of witchcraft. 
 
168 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 10. The robins, by constant attacks and annoyances, 
 have succeeded in driving off the blue-jays who used to 
 build in our pines, their gay colors and quaint, noisy ways 
 making them welcome and amusing neighbors. I once had 
 a chance to do a kindness to a household of them, which 
 they received with very friendly condescension. I had had 
 my eye for some time past upon a nest, and was puzzled by 
 a constant fluttering of what seemed full-grown wings in it 
 whenever I drew nigh. At last I climbed the tree, in spite 
 of the angry protests from the old birds against my intru- 
 sion. The mystery had a very simple solution. In build- 
 ing the nest, a long piece of pack-thread had been some- 
 what loosely woven in, three of the young had contrived to 
 entangle themselves in it, and had become full-grown with- 
 out being able to launch themselves into the air. One was 
 unharmed ; another had so tightly twisted the cord about 
 its shank that one foot was curled up and seemed para- 
 lyzed ; the third, in his struggles to escape, had sawn 
 through the flesh of the thigh and so much harmed itself 
 that I thought it humane to put an end to its misery. 
 
 11. When I took out my knife to cut their hempen 
 bonds, the heads of the family seemed to divine my friend- 
 ly intent. Suddenly ceasing their cries and threats, they 
 perched quietly within reach of my hand, and watched me 
 in my work of manumission. This, owing to the flutter- 
 ing terror of the prisoners, was an affair of some delicacy ; 
 but ere long I was rewarded by seeing one of them fly away 
 to a neighboring tree, while the cripple, making a para- 
 chute of his wings, came lightly to the ground, and hopped 
 off as well as he could with one leg, obsequiously waited 
 upon by his elders. A week later I had the satisfaction 
 of meeting him in the pine walk, in good spirits, and 
 already so far recovered as to be able to balance himself 
 with the lame foot. I have no doubt that in his old age 
 he accounted for his lameness by some handsome story of 
 
OUR FOREST CHORISTERS. 169 
 
 a wound received at the famous Battle of the Pines, when 
 one tribe, overcome by numbers, was driven away from its 
 ancient camping-ground. 
 
 12. Orioles are in great plenty with me. I have seen 
 seven males flashing about the garden at once. A merry 
 crew of them swing their hammocks from the pendulous 
 boughs. Last year a pair of orioles built on the lowest 
 trailer of a weeping elm, which hung within ten feet of 
 our drawing-room window, and so low that I could reach 
 it from the ground. The nest was wholly woven and 
 felted with ravelings of woolen carpet, in which scarlet 
 predominated. They were very bold in the quest of cord- 
 age, and I have often watched them stripping the fibrous 
 bark from the honeysuckle growing over the very door. 
 
 13. But, indeed, all my birds look upon me as if I 
 were a mere tenant at will, and they were landlords. With 
 shame I confess it, I have been bullied even by a hum- 
 ming-bird. This spring, as I was cleansing a pear-tree of 
 its lichens, one of these little zigzagging blurs came hur- 
 rying toward me, couching his long bill like a lance, his 
 throat sparkling with angry fire, to warn me off from a 
 Missouri currant whose honey he was sipping. And many 
 a time he has driven me out of a flower-bed. 
 
 14. The bobolinks are generally chance visitors, tink- 
 ling through the garden in blossoming-time ; but this year, 
 owing to the long rains early in the season, their favorite 
 meadow was overflowed, and they were driven to the up- 
 land. So I had a pair of them domiciled in my grass-field. 
 The male used to perch in an apple-tree, then in full 
 bloom, and, while I stood perfectly still close by, he would 
 circle away, quivering round the entire field of five acres, 
 with no break in his song, and settle down again among 
 the blossoms, to be hurried away again almost immediately 
 by a new rapture of music. He had the volubility of an 
 Italian charlatan at a fair, and, like him, appeared to be 
 
170 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 proclaiming the merits of some quack remedy. Opodeldoc- 
 opodeldoc-try-Doctor- Lincoln' s-opodeldoc ! he seemed to re- 
 peat over and over again, with a rapidity that would have 
 distanced the deftest-tongued Figaro that ever rattled. 
 
 15. The bobolinks build in considerable numbers in a 
 meadow within a quarter of a mile of us. When they are 
 breeding, if I chance to pass, one of the male birds always 
 accompanies me like a constable, flitting from post to post 
 of the rail-fence, with a short note of reproof continually 
 repeated till I am fairly out of the neighborhood. Then 
 he will swing away into the air and run down the wind, 
 gurgling music without stint over the unheeding tussocks 
 of meadow-grass and dark clumps of bulrushes that mark 
 his domain. We have no bird whose song will match the 
 nightingale's in compass, none whose note is so rich as 
 that of the European blackbird, but for mere rapture I 
 have never heard the bobolink's rival. 
 
 16. A pair of pewees have built immemorially on a jut- 
 ting brick in the arched entrance of the ice-house. Al- 
 ways on the same brick, and never more than a single pair, 
 though two broods of five each are raised there every 
 summer. How do they settle their claim to the home- 
 stead ? By what right of primogeniture ? Once the chil- 
 dren of the man employed about the place oologized the 
 nest, and the pewees left us for a year or two. I felt 
 toward these boys as the messmates of the Ancient Mariner 
 did toward him after he shot the albatross. But the 
 pewees came back at last, and one of them is now on his 
 wonted perch, so near my window that I can hear the 
 click of his bill as he snaps at a fly with unerring precision. 
 
 17. The pewee is the first bird to pipe in the morning ; 
 and during the early summer he preludes his matutinal 
 ejaculation of pewee with a slender whistle, unheard at any 
 other time. He saddens with the season, and as summer 
 declines he changes his note to cheu, pewee f as if in lam- 
 
OUR FOREST CHORISTERS. 171 
 
 entation. Had he been an Italian bird, Ovid would 
 have had a plaintive tale to tell about him. He is so fa- 
 miliar as often to pursue a fly through the open windows of 
 my library. 
 
 18. There is something inexpressibly dear to me in these 
 old friendships of a lifetime. There is scarce a tree of 
 mine but has had, at some time or other, a happy home- 
 stead among its boughs, to which can I not say, 
 
 " Many light hearts and wings, 
 Which now be dead, lodged in thy living bowers." 
 My walk under the pines would lose half its summer 
 charm were I to miss that shy anchorite, the Wilson's 
 thrush, nor hear in haying-time the metallic ring of his 
 song, that justifies his rustic name of scythe-whet. 
 
 19. I protect my game as jealously as an English squire. 
 If anybody had odlogized a certain cuckoo's-nest I know of, 
 it would have left a sore place in my mind for weeks. I 
 love to bring these aborigines back to the mansuetude they 
 showed to the early voyagers, and before they had grown 
 accustomed to man and his savage ways. And they repay 
 your kindness with a sweet familiarity too delicate ever to 
 breed contempt. I have made a Penn- treaty with them, 
 preferring that to the Puritan way with the natives, which 
 converted them to a little Hebraism and a great deal of 
 Medford rum. If they will not come near enough to me 
 as most of them will I bring them close with an opera- 
 glass, a much better weapon than a gun. I would not, if 
 I could, convert them from their pretty pagan ways. 
 
 20. The only one I sometimes have savage doubts about 
 is the red squirrel. / think he oologizes. I know he eats 
 cherries, and he gnaws off the small ends of the pears to 
 get the seeds. He steals the corn from under the noses of 
 my poultr^. But what would you have ? He will come 
 down upon the limbs of a tree I am lying under till he is 
 within a yard of me. He and his mate will scurry up and 
 
172 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 down the great black-walnut for my diversion, chattering 
 like monkeys. Can I sign his death-warrant who has toler- 
 ated me about his grounds so long ? Not I. Let them 
 steal and welcome. I am sure I should, had I the same 
 bringing up and the same temptation . As for the birds, I 
 do not believe there is one of them but does more good 
 than harm ; and of how many featherless bipeds can this 
 
 be Said ? James Russell Lowell. 
 
 THE SONG OF BIRDS. 
 
 1. IN proportion as we have been trained to be agree- 
 ably affected by the outward forms of nature and the 
 sounds that proceed from the animate and inanimate 
 world, are we capable of being made happy without resort- 
 ing to expensive and vulgar recreations. It ought, there- 
 fore, to be one of the chief points in the education of 
 youth, while teaching them the still more important of- 
 fices of humanity, to cultivate and enliven their suscepti- 
 bility to the charms of natural objects. Then would the 
 aspects of nature, continually changing with the progress 
 of the seasons and the sounds that enliven their march, sat- 
 isfy, in a great measure, that craving for agreeable sensa. 
 tions which leads mankind away from humble and health- 
 ful pursuits to those of a more artificial and exciting life. 
 The value of such pleasures consists not so much in 
 their cheapness as in their favorable moral influences, 
 which improve the heart, while they lead the mind to ob- 
 servations that pleasantly exercise and develop, without 
 tasking its powers. The quiet emotions, half musical and 
 half poetical, which are awakened by listening to the song 
 of birds, belong to this class of refined enjoyments. 
 
 2. But the music of birds, though agreeable to all, con- 
 veys positive and durable pleasure only to those who have 
 
OUR FOREST CHORISTERS. 1Y3 
 
 learned to associate with their notes, in connection with 
 the scenes of nature, a thousand interesting and romantic 
 images. To many persons of this character it affords more 
 delight than the most brilliant music of the opera or the 
 concert. In vain, therefore, will it be said, as an objec- 
 tion, that the notes of birds have no charm save that which 
 is derived from association, and that, considered as music, 
 they do not equal that of the most simple reed or flageolet. 
 
 3. It is sufficient to remark that the most delightful 
 influences of nature proceed from those sights and sounds 
 that appeal to the imagination and affections through the 
 medium of slight and almost insensible impressions made 
 upon the eye and ear. At the moment when these physi- 
 cal impressions exceed a certain mean, the spell is broken, 
 and the enjoyment becomes sensual, not intellectual. How 
 soon, indeed, would the songs of birds lose their effect if 
 they were loud and brilliant, like a band of instruments ! 
 It is their simplicity which gives them their charm. 
 
 4. As a further illustration of this point, it may be re- 
 marked that simple melodies have among all people exer- 
 cised a greater power over the imagination than louder and 
 more complicated music. Nature employs a very small 
 amount of physical sensation to create an intellectual pas- 
 sion, and when an excess is used a diminished effect is pro- 
 duced. I am persuaded that the effect of a great part of 
 our sacred music is lost by an excess of harmony and a too 
 great volume of sound. On the same, principle, a loud 
 crash of thunder deafens and terrifies ; but its low and dis- 
 tant rumbling produces an agreeable emotion of sublimity. 
 
 5. The songs of birds are as intimately allied with 
 poetry as with music. The lark has been aptly denomi- 
 nated a "feathered lyric" by one of the English poets; 
 and the analogy becomes apparent when we consider how 
 much the song of a bird resembles a lyrical ballad in its in- 
 fluence on the mind. Though it utters no words, how 
 
174 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 plainly it suggests a long train of agreeable images of love, 
 beauty, friendship, and home ! 
 
 6. The voice of every singing-bird has its associations 
 in the minds of all susceptible persons who were born and 
 nurtured within the precincts of its untutored minstrelsy. 
 The music of birds is modulated in pleasant unison with 
 all the chords of affection and imagination, filling the soul 
 with a lively consciousness of happiness and beauty, and 
 soothing it with romantic visions of memory of love, when 
 it was an ethereal sentiment of adoration and not a passion, 
 and of friendship, when it was a passion and not an expe- 
 dience ; of dear and simple adventures, and of comrades 
 who had part in them ; of dappled mornings and serene 
 and glowing sunsets, of sequestered nooks and mossy seats 
 in the old wood, of paths by the riverside and flowers that 
 smiled a bright welcome to our rambling, of lingering de- 
 partures from home, and of old by-ways overshadowed by 
 trees and hedged with roses and viburnums, that spread 
 their shade and their perfume around our path to gladden 
 our return. By this pleasant instrumentality has Nature 
 provided for the happiness of those who have learned to be 
 delighted with the survey of her works, and with the 
 sound of those voices which she has appointed to commu- 
 nicate to the human soul the joys of her inferior creation. 
 
 7. The singing-birds, with reference to their songs, 
 may be divided into four classes. First, the rapid singers, 
 whose song is uninterrupted, of considerable length, and 
 uttered with fervor, and in apparent ecstasy. Second, the 
 moderate singers, whose notes are slowly modulated, but 
 without pauses or rests between their different strains. 
 Third, the interrupted singers, who seldom modulate their 
 notes with rapidity, and make decided pauses between their 
 several strains, of which there are in general from five to 
 eight or nine. Fourth, the warblers, whose notes consist 
 of only one or two strains, not combined into a song. 
 
OUR FOREST CHORISTERS. 175 
 
 8. The canary, among foreign birds, and the linnet and 
 bobolink, among American birds, are familiar examples of 
 the first class ; the common robin and the veery of the sec- 
 ond ; the wood-thrush, the cat-bird, and the mocking-bird, 
 of the third ; and the blue-bird, the pewee, and the pur- 
 ple martin, of the fourth class. It may be added that 
 some birds are nearly periodical in their habits of singing, 
 preferring the morning and evening, and occasional periods 
 in other parts of the day, while others sing almost indiffer- 
 ently at all hours. The greater number of species, how- 
 ever, are more tuneful in the early morning than at any 
 other hour. 
 
 9. June, in this part of the world, is the most vocal 
 month of the year. Many of our principal songsters do 
 not arrive until. the middle of May ;" and all, whether they 
 come early or late, continue in song throughout the month 
 of June. The bobolink, which is one of the first to be- 
 come silent, continues vocal until the second week in July. 
 So nearly simultaneous is the discontinuance of the songs 
 of this species, that it might seem as if their silence were 
 preconcerted, and that by a vote they had on a certain day 
 adjourned over to another year. 
 
 10. If an unusually genial day occurs about the seventh 
 of July, we may hear multitudes of them singing merrily 
 on that occasion. Should this time be followed by two or 
 three successive days of chilly and rainy weather, their 
 tunefulness is so generally brought to a close during this 
 period that we may not have another musical note from a 
 single individual after the seventh. The songs of birds 
 are discontinued as soon as their care of their oifspring 
 has ceased. Hence, those birds that raise but one brood 
 of young during the season, like the bobolink, are the first 
 to become silent. 
 
 11. No one of the New England birds is an autumnal 
 warbler, though the song-sparrow often greets the fine 
 
176 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 mornings in October with his lays, and the shore-lark, 
 after spending the summer in Labrador and about the 
 shores of Hudson's Bay, is sometimes heard in autumn, soar- 
 ing and singing at the dawn of day, while on their passage 
 to the South. The bobolink, the veery, or Wilson's thrush, 
 the red thrush, and the golden robin are silent after the 
 middle of July ; the wood-thrush, the cat-bird, and the 
 common robin, not until a month later ; but the song- 
 sparrow alone continues to sing throughout the summer. 
 The tuneful season of the year in New England embraces a 
 period of about four months from the middle of April to 
 the middle of August. 
 
 12. There are certain times of the day, as well as cer- 
 tain seasons of the year, when the birds are most musical. 
 The grand concert of the feathered tribe takes place during 
 the hour between dawn and sunrise. During the re- 
 mainder of the day they sing less in Concert, though many 
 species are very musical at noonday, and seem, like the noc- 
 turnal birds, to prefer the hour when others are silent. 
 At sunset there is an apparent attempt to unite once more 
 in chorus, but this is far from being so loud or so general 
 as in the morning. The little birds which I have classed 
 in the fourth division are a very important accompaniment 
 to the anthem of dawn, their notes, though short, serving 
 agreeably to fill up the pauses made by the other musicians. 
 Thus, the hair-bird has a sharp and trilling note, without 
 any modulation, and not at all melodious when heard 
 alone ; but in the morning it is the chief harmonizer of 
 the whole chorus, and seems, more than any other voice, 
 to give unity and symphony to the multitude of miscella- 
 neous parts. 
 
 13. There are not many birds whose notes could be ac- 
 curately described upon the gamut. The nearest approach 
 we can make to accuracy is to give some general idea of 
 their time and modulation. Their musical intervals can be 
 
OUR FOREST CHORISTERS. 177 
 
 distinguished but with difficulty, on account of the rapid- 
 ity of their utterance. I have often attempted to transcribe 
 some of their notes upon the musical scale, but I am per- 
 suaded that such sketches can be only approximations to 
 literal correctness. As different individuals of the same 
 species sing very differently, the notes as transcribed from 
 the song of one individual will never exactly represent the 
 song of another. If we listen attentively, however, to a 
 number of songs, we will detect in all of them a theme, as it 
 is termed by musicians, of which the different individuals 
 of the species warble their respective variations. Every 
 song is, technically speaking, a fantasia constructed upon 
 this theme, from which none of the species ever departs. 
 
 /. Elliot Cabot. 
 
 LIFE AND SONG IN THE WOODS. 
 
 1. WALKING the other day in an old hemlock wood, I 
 counted over forty varieties of birds, though this is an un- 
 usual number for a single forest. I descended a hill and 
 approached the hemlocks through a large sugar - bush. 
 When twenty rods distant, I hear all along the line of the 
 forest the incessant warble of the red -eyed fly-catcher, cheer- 
 ful and happy as the merry whistle of a school-boy. He is 
 one of our most common and widely distributed birds. 
 Approach any forest, at any hour of the day, in any kind 
 of weather, from May to August, in any of the middle or 
 eastern districts, and the chances are that the first note 
 you hear will be his. Eain or shine, before noon or after, 
 in the deep forest or in the village grove when it is too 
 hot for the thrushes or too cold and windy for the war- 
 blers it is never out of time or place for this little min- 
 strel to indulge his cheerful strain. 
 
178 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 2. There is nothing plaintive or especially musical in 
 his performance, but the sentiment expressed is eminently 
 that of cheerfulness. Indeed, the songs of most birds have 
 some human significance, which, I think, is the source of 
 the delight we take in them. The song of the bobolink, 
 to me, expresses hilarity ; the song-sparrow's, faith ; the 
 bluebird's, love ; the cat-bird's, pride ; the white-eyed fly- 
 catcher's, self -consciousness ; that of the hermit-thrush, 
 spiritual serenity ; while there is something military in the 
 call of the robin, and unalloyed contentment in the warble 
 of the red-eyed vireo. 
 
 3. Passing down through the maple arches, barely 
 pausing to observe the antics of a trio of squirrels two 
 gray ones and a black one 1 cross an ancient brush-fence 
 and am fairly within the old hemlocks, and in one of the 
 most primitive, undisturbed nooks. In the deep inoss I 
 tread as with muffled feet, and the pupils of my eyes dilate 
 in the dim, almost religious light. The irreverent red 
 squirrels, however, run and snicker at my approach, or 
 mock the solitude with their ridiculous chattering and 
 frisking. 
 
 4. This nook is the chosen haunt of the winter wren. 
 This is the only place, and these are the only woods, in 
 which I find him in this vicinity. His voice fills these dim 
 aisles, as if aided by some marvelous sounding-board. In- 
 deed, his song is very strong for so small a bird, and unites 
 in a remarkable degree brilliancy and plaintiveness. I think 
 of a tremulous, vibrating tongue of silver. You may know 
 that it is the song of a wren from its gushing, lyrical char- 
 acter ; but you must needs look sharp to see the little min- 
 strel, especially while in the act of singing. He is nearly the 
 color of the ground and the leaves ; he never ascends the 
 tall trees, but keeps low, flitting from stump to stump, 
 and from root to root, dodging in and out of his hiding- 
 places, and watching all intruders with a suspicious eye. 
 
OUR FOREST CHORISTERS. 
 
 179 
 
 He has a very perk, almost comical look. His tail stands 
 more than perpendicular ; it points straight toward his 
 head. He is the least ostentatious singer I know of. He 
 does not strike an attitude and lift up his head in prepara- 
 
 A Forest Warbler. 
 
 tion, and, as it were, clear his throat ; but he sits there on 
 the log and pours out his music, looking straight before him, 
 or even down at the ground. 
 
 5. I am attracted by another warble in the same locality, 
 and experience a like difficulty in getting a good view of 
 
180 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 the author of it. It is quite a noticeable strain, sharp and 
 sibilant, and sounds well amid the old trees. In the up- 
 land woods of beech and maple it is a more familiar sound 
 than in these solitudes. On taking the bird in your hand, 
 even if you are not a young lady, you will probably ex- 
 claim, " How beautiful ! " So tiny and elegant, the small- 
 est of the warblers ; a delicate blue back, with a slight, 
 bronze-colored, triangular spot between the shoulders ; up- 
 per mandible black ; lower mandible yellow as gold ; throat 
 yellow, becoming a dark bronze on the breast. Blue yel- 
 low-back he is called, though the yellow is much nearer a 
 bronze. He is remarkably delicate and beautiful the 
 handsomest, as he is the smallest, of the warblers known to 
 me. It is never without surprise that I find amid these 
 rugged, savage aspects of nature, creatures so fairy and 
 delicate. But such is the law. Go to the sea or climb 
 the mountain, and with the ruggedest and the savagest you 
 will find likewise the fairest and the most delicate. The 
 greatness and the minuteness of nature pass all understand- 
 ing. 
 
 6. In a little opening quite free from brush and trees I 
 step down to bathe my hands in the brook, when a small, 
 light, slate-colored bird flutters out of the bank, not three feet 
 from my head, as I stoop down, and, as if severely lamed 
 or injured, flutters through the grass and into the nearest 
 bush. As I do not follow, but remain near the nest, she 
 chips sharply, which brings the male, and I see it is the 
 speckled Canada warbler. I find no authority in the books 
 for this bird to build upon the ground, yet here is the nest, 
 made chiefly of dry grass, set in a slight excavation in the 
 bank, not two feet from the water, . and looking a little 
 perilous to anything but ducklings or sandpipers. 
 
 7. There are two young birds and one little speckled 
 egg, just pipped. But how is this ? what mystery is here ? 
 One nestling is much larger than the other, monopolizes 
 
OUR FOREST CHORISTERS. 181 
 
 most of the nest, and lifts its open mouth far above that of 
 its companion, though obviously both are of the same age, 
 not more than a day old. Ah ! I see the old trick of the 
 cow-bunting, with a stinging human significance. Taking 
 the interloper by the nape of the neck, I deliberately drop 
 it into the water, but not without a pang, as I see its 
 naked form, convulsed with chills, float down the stream. 
 Cruel ! So is nature cruel. I take one life to save two. 
 In less than two days this pot-bellied intruder would have 
 caused the death of the two rightful occupants of the nest ; 
 so I step in and divert things into their proper channel 
 again. 
 
 8. It is a singular freak of nature, this instinct which 
 prompts one bird to lay its eggs in the nests of others, and 
 thus shirk the responsibility of rearing its own young. 
 The cow-buntings always resort to this cunning trick, and, 
 when one reflects upon their numbers, it is evident that 
 these little tragedies are quite frequent. In Europe the 
 parallel case is that of the cuckoo, and occasionally our own 
 cuckoo imposes upon a robin or a thrush in the same man- 
 ner. The cow-bunting seems to have no conscience about 
 the matter, and, so far as I have observed, invariably se- 
 lects the nest of a bird smaller than itself. Its egg is usu- 
 ally the first to hatch ; its young overreaches all the rest 
 when food is brought ; it grows with great rapidity, 
 spreads and fills the nest, and the starved and crowded oc- 
 cupants soon perish, when the parent bird removes their 
 dead bodies, giving its whole energy and care to the foster- 
 child. 
 
 9. The warblers and smaller fly-catchers are generally 
 the sufferers, though I sometimes see the slate-colored 
 snow-bird unconsciously duped in like manner ; and the 
 other day, in a tall tree in the woods, I discovered the 
 black-throated, green-backed warbler devoting itself to this 
 dusky, overgrown foundling. An old farmer to whom I 
 
182 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 pointed out the fact was much surprised that such things 
 should happen in his woods without his knowledge. 
 
 10. Ever since I entered the woods, even while listening 
 to the lesser songsters, or contemplating the silent forms 
 about me, a strain has reached my ear from out the depths 
 of the forest that to me is the finest sound in nature the 
 song of the hermit-thrush. I often hear him thus a long 
 way off sometimes over a quarter of a mile away, when 
 only the stronger and more perfect parts of his music reach 
 me ; and through the general chorus of wrens and warblers 
 I detect this sound rising pure and serene, as if a spirit 
 from some remote height were slowly chanting a divine 
 accompaniment. This song appeals to the sentiment of 
 the beautiful in me, and suggests a serene, religious beati- 
 tude as no other sound in nature does. It is, perhaps, more 
 of an evening than a morning hymn, though I hear it at 
 all hours of the day. It is very simple, and I can hardly 
 tell the secret of its charm. "0 spheral, spheral !" he 
 seems to say ; "0 holy, holy ! clear away, clear away ! 
 clear up, clear up ! " interspersed with the finest trills 
 and the most delicate preludes. 
 
 11. It is not a proud, gorgeous strain, like the tanager's 
 or the grosbeak's ; suggests no passion or emotion nothing 
 personal but seems to be the voice of that calm, sweet so- 
 lemnity one attains to in his best moments. It realizes a 
 peace and a deep, solemn joy that only the finest souls may 
 know. A few nights ago I ascended a mountain to see the 
 world by moonlight ; and when near the summit the her- 
 mit commenced his evening hymn a few rods from me. 
 Listening to this strain on the lone mountain, with the 
 full moon just rounded from the horizon, the pomp of 
 your cities and the pride of your civilization seemed trivial 
 and cheap. 
 
 12. But the declining sun and the deepening shadows 
 admonish me that this ramble must be brought to a close. 
 
OUR FOREST CHORISTERS. 183 
 
 In a secluded, swampy corner of the old barkpeeling, where 
 I find the great purple orchis in bloom, and where the foot 
 of man or beast seems never to have trod, I linger long, con- 
 templating the wonderful display of lichens and mosses that 
 overrun both the smaller and the larger growths. Every 
 bush and branch and sprig is dressed up in the most rich 
 and fantastic of liveries ; and, crowning all, the long, 
 bearded moss festoons the branches or sways gracefully 
 from the limbs. Every twig looks a century old, though 
 green leaves tip the end of it. A young yellow birch has a 
 venerable, patriarchal look, and seems ill at ease under 
 such premature honors. A decayed hemlock is draped as 
 if by hands for some solemn festival. 
 
 13. Mounting toward the upland again, I pause rever- 
 ently as the hush and stillness of twilight come upon the 
 woods. It is the sweetest, ripest hour of the day. And, as 
 the hermit's evening hymn goes up from the deep solitude 
 below me, I experience that serene exaltation of sentiment 
 of which music, literature, and religion are but the faint 
 types and symbols. Mn Burroug ^ 
 
 BIRD LIFE AND MOTION. 
 
 1. WHEX one thinks of a bird, one fancies a soft, swift, 
 aimless, joyous thing, full of nervous energy and arrowy 
 motions, a song with wings. So remote from ours their 
 mode of existence, they seem accidental exiles from an un- 
 known globe, banished where none can understand their 
 language ; and men only stare at their darting, inexpli- 
 cable ways, as at the gyrations of the circus. Watch their 
 little traits for hours, and it only tantalizes curiosity. 
 Every man's secret is penetrable, if his neighbor be sharp- 
 sighted. But this bird that hovers and alights beside me, 
 
184 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 peers up at me, takes its food, then looks again, attitudiniz- 
 ing, jerking, flirting its tail, with a thousand inquisitive 
 and fantastic motions, although I have power to grasp it in 
 my hand and crush its life out, yet I can not gain its secret 
 thus, and the center of its consciousness is really farther 
 from mine than the remotest planetary orbit. "We do 
 not steadily bear in mind," says Darwin, with a noble sci- 
 entific humility, "how profoundly ignorant we are of the 
 condition of existence of every animal." 
 
 2. What "sympathetic penetration" can fathom the 
 life, for instance, of yonder mysterious, almost voiceless 
 humming-bird, smallest of feathery things, and loneliest, 
 whirring among birds, insect-like, and among insects, bird- 
 like, his path untraceable, his home unseen ? An image 
 of airy motion, yet it sometimes seems as if there were 
 nothing joyous in him. He seems like some exiled pygmy 
 prince, banished, but still regal, and doomed to wings. 
 Did gems turn to flowers, flowers to feathers, in that long- 
 past dynasty of the humming-birds ? It is strange to come 
 upon his tiny nest, in some gray and tangled swamp, with 
 this brilliant atom perched disconsolately near it, upon 
 some mossy twig ; it is like visiting Cinderella among her 
 ashes. And from humming-bird to eagle, the daily exist- 
 ence of every bird is a remote and bewitching mystery. 
 
 3. Pythagoras has been charged, both before and since 
 the days of Malvolio, with holding that "the soul of our 
 grandam might haply inhabit a fowl," that delinquent 
 men must revisit earth as women, and delinquent women as 
 birds. Malvolio thought nobly of the soul, and in no way 
 approved his opinion ; but I remember that Harriet Rohan, 
 in her school-days, accepted this, her destiny, with glee. 
 "When I saw the oriole," she wrote to me, "from his nest 
 among the plum-trees in the garden, sail over the air and 
 high above the Gothic arches of the elm, a stream of flash- 
 ing light, or watched him swinging silently on pendent 
 
OUR FOREST CHORISTERS. 185 
 
 twigs, I did not dream how near akin we were. Or when 
 a humming-bird, a winged drop of gorgeous sheen and 
 gloss, a living gem, poising on his wings, thrust his dark, 
 slender, honey-seeking bill into the white blossoms of a 
 little bush beside my window, I should have thought it no 
 such bad thing to be a bird, even if one next became a 
 bat, like the colony in our eaves, that dart and drop and 
 skim and skurry, all the length of moonless nights, in such 
 ecstasies of dusky joy." Was this weird creature, the bat, 
 in very truth a bird, in some far primeval time ? and does 
 he fancy, in unquiet dreams at nightfall, that he is one 
 still ? I wonder whether he can enjoy the winged brother- 
 hood into which he has thrust himself victim, perhaps, of 
 some rash quadruped-ambition an Icarus doomed for ever 
 not to fall. 
 
 4. I think that, if required, on pain of death, to name 
 instantly the most perfect thing in the universe, I should 
 risk my fate on a bird's egg. There is, first, its exquisite 
 fragility of material, strong only by the mathematical pre- 
 cision of that form so daintily molded. There is its abso- 
 lute purity from external stain, since that thin barrier 
 remains impassable until the whole is in ruins a purity 
 recognized in the household proverb of "An apple, an egg, 
 and a nut. " 
 
 5. Then, its range of tints, so varied, so subdued, and 
 so beautiful, whether of pure white, like the martin's, or 
 pure green, like the robin's, or dotted and mottled into 
 the loveliest of browns, like the red thrush's, or aqua ma- 
 rine, with stains of moss-agate, like the chipping sparrow's, 
 or blotched with long, weird ink-marks on a pale ground, 
 like the oriole's, as if it bore inscribed some magic clew to 
 the bird's darting flight and pensile nest. Above all, the 
 associations and predictions of this little wonder, that one 
 may bear home between his fingers all that winged splen- 
 dor, all that celestial melody, coiled in mystery within 
 
186 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 these tiny walls ! Even the chrysalis is less amazing, for 
 its form always preserves some trace, however fantastic, of 
 the perfect insect, and it is but molting a skin ; but this 
 egg appears to the eye like a separate unit from some other 
 kingdom of nature, claiming more kindred with the very 
 stones than with feathery existence ; and it is as if a pearl 
 opened and an angel sang. 
 
 6. The nest which is to contain these fair things is a 
 wondrous study also, from the coarse masonry of the robin 
 to the soft structure of the humming-bird, a baby-house 
 among nests. Among all created things, the birds come 
 nearest to man in their domesticity. Their unions are 
 usually in pairs, and for life ; and with them, unlike the 
 practice of most quadrupeds, the male labors for the young. 
 He chooses the locality of the nest, aids in its construc- 
 tion, and rights for it, if needful. He sometimes assists in 
 hatching the eggs. He feeds the brood with exhausting 
 labor, like yonder robin, whose winged picturesque day is 
 spent in putting worms into insatiable beaks, at the rate of 
 one morsel in every three minutes. He has to teach them 
 to fly, as among the swallows, or even to hunt, as among 
 the hawks. His life is anchored to his home. 
 
 7. Yonder oriole fills with light and melody the thou- 
 sand branches of a neighborhood ; and yet the center for 
 all this divergent splendor is always that one drooping 
 dome upon one chosen tree. This he helped to build in 
 May, confiscating cotton as if he were a Union provost-mar- 
 shal, and singing many songs, with his mouth full of plun- 
 der ; and there he watches over his household, all through 
 the leafy June, perched often upon the airy cradle-edge, 
 and swaying with it in the summer wind. And from this 
 deep nest, after the pretty eggs are hatched, will he and 
 his mate extract every fragment of the shell, leaving it, 
 like all other nests, save those of birds of prey, clean and 
 pure, when the young are flown. This they do chiefly 
 
OUR FOREST CHORISTERS. 187 
 
 from an instinct of delicacy, since wood-birds are not 
 wont to use the same nest a second time, even if they rear 
 several broods in a season. 
 
 8. In comparing modes of flight, the most surprising, 
 of course, is that of the swallow tribe, remarkable not 
 merely for its velocity, but for the amazing boldness and 
 instantaneousness of the angles it makes ; so that eminent 
 European mechanicians have speculated in vain upon the 
 methods used in its locomotion, and prizes have been of- 
 fered, by mechanical exhibitions, to him who could best 
 explain it. With impetuous dash, they sweep through our 
 perilous streets, these wild hunters of the air, "so near, 
 and yet so far " ; they bathe flying, and flying they feed 
 their young. In my immediate vicinity, the chimney- 
 swallow is not now common, nor the sand-swallow ; but 
 the cliff-swallow, that strange emigrant from the far West, 
 the barn-swallow, and the white-breasted species, are abun- 
 dant, together with the purple martin. 
 
 9. I know no prettier sight than a bevy of these bright 
 little creatures, met from a dozen different farm-houses to 
 picnic at a wayside pool, splashing and fluttering, with 
 their long wings expanded like butterflies, keeping poised 
 by a constant hovering motion, just tilting upon their feet, 
 which scarcely touch the moist ground. You will seldom 
 see them actually perch on anything less airy than some 
 telegraph-wire ; but, when they do alight, each will make 
 chatter enough for a dozen, as if all the r.ushing hurry of 
 the wings had passed into the tongue. 
 
 10. Between the swiftness of the swallow and the state- 
 liness of the birds of prey, the whole range of bird motion 
 seems included. The long wave of a hawk's wings seems 
 almost to send a slow vibration through the atmosphere, 
 tolling upon the eye as yon distant bell upon the ear. I 
 never was more impressed with the superior dignity of 
 these soarings than in observing a bloodless contest in the 
 
188 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 air last April. Standing beside a little grove, on a rocky 
 hillside, I heard crows cawing near by, and then a sound 
 like great flies buzzing, which I really attributed, for a mo- 
 ment, to some early insect. Turning, I saw two crows 
 flapping their heavy wings among the trees, and observed 
 that they were teasing a hawk about as large as themselves, 
 which was also on the wing. 
 
 11. Presently all three had risen above the branches, 
 and were circling higher and higher in a slow spiral. The 
 crows kept constantly swooping at their enemy, with the 
 same angry buzz, one of the two taking decidedly the lead. 
 They seldom struck at him with their beaks, but kept lum- 
 bering against him, and flapping him with their wings, as 
 if in a fruitless effort to capsize him, while the hawk kept 
 carelessly eluding the assaults, now inclining on one side, 
 now on the other, with a stately grace, never retaliating, 
 but seeming rather to enjoy the novel amusement, as if it 
 were a skirmish in balloons. During all this, indeed, he 
 scarcely seemed once to wave his wings ; yet he soared 
 steadily aloft, till the crows refused to follow, though al- 
 ready higher than I ever saw crows before, dim against the 
 fleecy sky ; then the hawk flew northward, but soon after 
 he sailed over us once again, with loud, scornful chirr, 
 and they only cawed, and left him undisturbed. 
 
 Atlantic Monthly. 
 
 BIRDS IN AUTUMN. 
 
 1. AFTEK July, most of our birds grow silent, and, but 
 for the insects, August would be almost the stillest month 
 in the year stiller than the winter, when the woods are 
 often vocal with the crow, the jay, and the chickadee. 
 But with patient attention one may hear, even far into 
 the autumn, the accustomed notes. As I sat in my boat, 
 
OUR FOREST CHORISTERS. 189 
 
 one sunny afternoon of last September, beneath the shady 
 western shore of our quiet lake, with the low sunlight strik- 
 ing almost level across the wooded banks, it seemed as if 
 the last hoarded drops of summer's sweetness were being 
 poured over all the world. The air was full of quiet sounds. 
 Turtles rustled beside the brink and slid into the water ; 
 cows plashed in the shallows ; fishes leaped from the placid 
 depths ; a squirrel sobbed and fretted on a neighboring 
 stump ; a katydid across the lake maintained its hard, dry 
 croak ; the crickets chirped pertinaciously, but with little 
 fatigued pauses, as if glad that their work was almost done ; 
 the grasshoppers kept up their continual chant, which 
 seemed thoroughly melted and amalgamated into the sum- 
 mer, as if it would go on indefinitely, though the body of 
 the little creature were dried into dust. 
 
 2. All this time the birds were silent and invisible, as 
 if they would take no more part in the symphony of the 
 year. Then, as if by preconcerted signal, they joined in : 
 crows cawed anxiously afar ; jays screamed in the woods ; 
 a partridge clucked to its brood, like the gurgle of water 
 from a bottle ; a kingfisher wound his rattle, more briefly 
 than in spring, as if we now knew all about it and the 
 merest hint ought to suffice ; a fish-hawk flapped into the 
 water, with a great, rude splash, and then flew heavily 
 away ; a flock of wild ducks went southward overhead, and 
 a smaller party returned beneath them, flying low and anx- 
 iously, as if to pick up some lost baggage ; and, at last, 
 a loon laughed loud from behind a distant island, and it 
 was pleasant to people these woods and waters with that 
 wild shouting, linking them with Katahdin Lake and Am- 
 perzand. 
 
 3. But the later the birds linger in the autumn, the 
 more their aspect differs from that of spring. In spring, 
 they come, jubilant, noisy, triumphant, from the South, 
 the winter conquered and the long journey done. In au- 
 
190 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 tumn, they come timidly from the North, and, pausing 
 on their anxious retreat, lurk within the fading copses and 
 twitter snatches of song as fading. Others fly as openly as 
 ever, but gather in flocks, as the robins, most piteous of all 
 birds at this season thin, faded, ragged, their bold note 
 sunk to a feeble quaver, and their manner a mere carica- 
 ture of that inexpressible military smartness with which 
 they held up their heads in May. 
 
 4. Yet I can not really find anything sad even in No- 
 vember. When I think of the thrilling beauty of the sea- 
 son past, the birds that came and went, the insects that 
 took up the choral song as the birds grew silent, the pro- 
 cession of the flowers, the glory of autumn, and when I 
 think that, this also ended, a new gallery of wonder is 
 opening, almost more beautiful, in the magnificence of 
 frost and snow, there comes an impression of affluence and 
 liberality in the universe, which seasons of changeless and 
 uneventful verdure would never give. The catkins already 
 formed on the alder, quite prepared to droop into April's 
 beauty ; the white edges of the May-flower's petals, already 
 visible through the bud show in advance that winter is 
 but a slight and temporary retardation of the life of nature, 
 and that the barrier which separates November from March 
 is not really more solid than that which parts the sunset 
 from the sunrise. Atiardic Monthly 
 
 ROBERT OF LINCOLN. 
 
 MEKRILY swinging on brier and weed, 
 Near to the nest of his little dame, 
 
 Over the mountain-side or mead, 
 
 Robert of Lincoln is telling his name : 
 
OUR FOREST CHORISTERS. 191 
 
 Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
 
 Spink, spank, spink ; 
 Snug and safe is that nest of ours, 
 Hidden among the summer flowers. 
 Ghee, chee, chee. 
 
 2. Robert of Lincoln is gayly drest, 
 
 Wearing a bright black wedding-coat ; 
 White are his shoulders and white his crest. 
 Hear him call in his merry note : 
 Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
 Spink, spank, spink ; 
 Look, what a nice new coat is mine, 
 Sure there was never a bird so fine. 
 Chee, chee, chee. 
 
 3. Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife, 
 
 Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings, 
 Passing at home a patient life, 
 
 Broods in the grass while her husband sings : 
 Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
 Spink, spank, spink ; 
 Brood, kind creature ; you need not fear 
 Thieves and robbers while I am here. 
 Chee, chee, chee. 
 
 4. Modest and shy as a nun is she ; m 
 
 One weak chirp is her only note. 
 Braggart and prince of braggarts is he, 
 Pouring boasts from his little throat : 
 Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
 Spink, spank, spink ; 
 Never was I afraid of man ; 
 Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you can ! 
 Chee, chee, chee. 
 
192 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 5. Six white eggs on a bed of hay, 
 
 Flecked with purple, a pretty sight 
 
 Bobolink. 
 
 There as the mother sits all day, 
 Robert is singing with all his might 
 
OUR FOREST CHORISTERS. 193 
 
 Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
 
 Spink, spank, spink ; 
 Nice good wife, that never goes out, 
 Keeping house while I frolic about. 
 Ghee, chee, chee. 
 
 6. Soon as the little ones chip the shell, 
 
 Six wide mouths are open for food ; 
 Eobert of Lincoln bestirs him well, 
 Gathering seeds for the hungry brood. 
 Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
 Spink, spank, spink ; 
 This new life is likely to be 
 Hard for a gay young fellow like me. 
 Chee, chee, chee. 
 
 7. Robert of Lincoln at length is made 
 
 Sober with work, and silent with care ; 
 Off is his holiday garment laid, 
 Half forgotten that merry air : 
 Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
 Spink, spank, spink ; 
 Nobody knows but my mate and I 
 Where our nest and our nestlings lie. 
 Chee, chee, chee. 
 
 8. Summer wanes ; the children are. grown ; 
 
 Fun and frolic no more he knows ; 
 Robert of Lincoln's a humdrum crone ; 
 Off he flies, and we sing as he goes : 
 Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
 Spink, spank, spink ; 
 When you can pipe that merry old strain,- 
 Robert of Lincoln, come back again. 
 
 Chee, chee, chee. Bryant. 
 
194 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 THE MOCKING-BIRD. 
 
 1. AMONG the many novelties which the discovery of 
 this part of the western continent first brought into notice 
 we may reckon that of the mocking-bird, which is not only 
 peculiar to the new world, but inhabits a very considerable 
 extent of both North and South America, having been 
 traced from the States of New England to Brazil, and also 
 among many of the adjacent islands. These birds are, 
 however, much more numerous in those States south than 
 in those north of the river Delaware, being generally mi- 
 gratory in the latter, and resident in the former. A warm 
 climate, and low country, not far from the sea, seem most 
 congenial to their nature ; accordingly, we find the species 
 less numerous to the west than east of the great range of 
 the Alleghany, in the same parallels of latitude. The ber- 
 ries of the red cedar, myrtle, holly, cassine shrub, many 
 species of smilax, together with gum-berries, gall-berries, 
 and a profusion of others with which the luxuriant swampy 
 thickets of those regions abound, furnish them with a per- 
 petual feast. Winged insects, also, of which they are very 
 fond, and remarkably expert at catching, abound there 
 even in winter, and are an additional inducement to resi- 
 dency. Though rather a shy bird in the Northern States, 
 in the South he appeared almost half domesticated, feeding 
 on the cedars and among the thickets of smilax that lined 
 the roads, while I passed within a few feet ; playing around 
 the planter's door, and hopping along the shingles. 
 
 2. The precise time at which the mocking-bird begins 
 to build his nest varies according to the latitude in which 
 he resides. There are particular situations to which he 
 gives the preference. A solitary thorn-bush, an almost im- 
 penetrable thicket, an orange-tree, cedar- or holly-bush, 
 are favorite spots, and frequently selected. It is no great 
 
OUR FOREST CHORISTERS. 195 
 
 objection with him that these happen, sometimes, to be 
 near the farm- or mansion-house : always ready to defend, 
 but never over-anxious to conceal, his nest, he very often 
 builds within a small distance of the house, and not un- 
 frequently in a pear or apple tree ; rarely at a greater 
 height than six or seven feet from the ground. The nest 
 varies a little with different individuals, according to the 
 conveniency of collecting suitable materials. A very com- 
 plete one is now lying before me, and is composed of the 
 following substances : First, a quantity of dry twigs and 
 sticks ; then withered tops of weeds of the preceding year, 
 intermixed with fine straws, hay, pieces of wool and tow ; 
 and, lastly, a thick layer of fine fibrous roots, of a light- 
 brown color, lines the whole. The eggs are four, sometimes 
 five, of a cinereous blue, marked with large blotches of brown. 
 The female sits fourteen days, and generally produces two 
 broods in the season, unless robbed of her eggs, in which 
 case she will even build and lay the third time. She is, 
 however, extremely jealous of her nest, and very apt to 
 forsake it if much disturbed. It is even asserted by some 
 of our bird dealers that the old ones will actually destroy 
 the eggs, and poison the young, if either the one or the 
 other have been handled. But I can not give credit to 
 this unnatural report. I know, from my own experience, 
 at least, that it is not always their practice ; neither have I 
 ever witnessed a case of the kind above mentioned. 
 
 3. During the period of incubation/ neither cat, dog, 
 animal, or man can approach the nest without being at- 
 tacked. The cats, in particular, are persecuted whenever 
 they make their appearance, till obliged to retreat. But 
 his whole vengeance is most particularly directed against 
 that mortal enemy of his eggs and young, the black-snake. 
 Whenever the insidious approaches of this reptile are dis- 
 covered, the male darts upon it with the rapidity of an 
 arrow, dexterously eluding its bite, and striking it violently 
 
196 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 and incessantly about the head, where it is very vulnerable. 
 The snake soon becomes sensible of its danger, and seeks 
 to escape ; but the intrepid defender of his young redoubles 
 his exertions, and, unless his antagonist be of great magni- 
 tude, often succeeds in destroying him. All its pretended 
 powers of fascination avail it nothing against the vengeance 
 of this noble bird. As the snake's strength begins to flag, 
 the mocking-bird seizes and lifts it up partly from the 
 ground, beating it with his wings, and, when the business 
 is completed, he returns to the repository of his young, 
 mounts the summit of the bush, and pours out a torrent of 
 song in token of victory. 
 
 4. The plumage of the mocking-bird, though none of 
 the homeliest, has nothing gaudy or brilliant in it, and, 
 had he nothing else to recommend him, would scarcely 
 entitle him to notice ; but his figure is well proportioned, 
 and even handsome. The ease, elegance, and rapidity of 
 his movements, the animation of his eye, and the intelli- 
 gence he displays in listening and laying up lessons from 
 almost every species of the feathered creation within his 
 hearing, are really surprising, and mark the peculiarity of 
 his genius. To these qualities we may add that of a voice 
 full, strong, and musical, and capable of almost every 
 modulation, from the clear, mellow tones of the wood-thrush 
 to the savage scream of the bald eagle. In measure and 
 accent he faithfully follows his originals. In force and 
 sweetness of expression he greatly improves upon them. 
 
 5. In his native groves, mounted on the top of a tall 
 bush or half-grown tree, in the dawn of a dewy morning, 
 while the woods are already vocal with a multitude of 
 warblers, his admirable song rises pre-eminent over every 
 competitor. The ear can listen to Ms music alone, to 
 which that of all the others seems a mere accompaniment. 
 Neither is this strain altogether imitative. His own native 
 notes, which are easily distinguishable by such as are well 
 
OUR FOREST CHORISTERS. 197 
 
 acquainted with those of our various song-birds, are bold 
 and full, and varied, seemingly, beyond all limits. They 
 consist of short expressions of two, three, or, at the most, 
 five or six syllables ; generally interspersed with imita- 
 tions, and all of them uttered with great emphasis and ra- 
 pidity ; and continued, with undiminished ardor, for half 
 an hour, or an hour, at a time his expanded wings and 
 tail glistening with white, and the buoyant gayety of his 
 action arresting the eye, as his song most irresistibly does 
 the ear. He sweeps round with enthusiastic ecstasy he 
 mounts and descends as his song swells or dies away ; 
 and, as my friend Mr. Bartram has beautifully expressed 
 it, " He bounds aloft with the celerity of an arrow, as if to 
 recover or recall his very soul, expired in the last elevated 
 strain. " 
 
 6. While thus exerting himself, a bystander destitute 
 of sight would suppose that the whole feathered tribe had 
 assembled together, on a trial of skill, each striving to pro- 
 duce his utmost effect, so perfect are his imitations. He 
 many times deceives the sportsman, and sends him in 
 search of birds that perhaps are not within miles of him, 
 but whose notes he exactly imitates ; even birds themselves 
 are frequently imposed on by this admirable mimic, and 
 are decoyed by the fancied calls of their mates ; or dive, 
 with precipitation, into the depths of thickets, at the 
 scream of what they suppose to be the sparrow-hawk. 
 
 7. The mocking-bird loses little of the power and en- 
 ergy of his song by confinement. In his domesticated 
 state, when he commences his career of song, it is impossi- 
 ble to stand by uninterested. He whistles for the dog ; 
 Caesar starts up, wags his tail, and runs to meet his master. 
 He squeaks out like a hurt chicken, and the hen hurries 
 about, with hanging wings and bristled feathers, cluck- 
 ing to protect its injured brood. The barking of the dog, 
 the mewing of the cat, the creaking of a passing wheel- 
 
L98 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 barrow, follow, with great truth and rapidity. He repeats 
 the tune taught him by his master, though of considerable 
 length, fully and faithfully. He runs over the quiverings 
 of the canary, and the clear whistlings of the Virginia 
 nightingale, or redbird, with such superior execution and 
 effect that the mortified songsters feel their own inferi- 
 ority, and become altogether silent, while he seems to tri- 
 umph in their defeat by redoubling his exertions. 
 
 8. This excessive fondness for variety, however, in the 
 opinion of some, injures his song. His elevated imitations 
 of the brown thrush are frequently interrupted by the crow- 
 ing of cocks ; and the warblings of the bluebird, which he 
 exquisitely manages, are mingled with the screaming of 
 swallows or the cackling of hens ; amid the simple melody 
 of the robin we are suddenly surprised by the shrill reitera- 
 tions of the whip-poor-will ; while the notes of the kildeer, 
 blue jay, martin, baltimore, and twenty others, succeed, 
 with such imposing reality, that we look round for the 
 originals, and discover, with astonishment, that the sole 
 performer in this singular concert is the admirable bird 
 now before us. During this exhibition of his powers he 
 spreads his wings, expands his tail, and throws himself 
 around the cage in all the ecstasy of enthusiasm, seeming 
 not only to sing, but to dance, keeping time to the meas- 
 ure of his own music. Both in his native and domesti- 
 cated state, during the solemn stillness of night, as soon 
 as the moon rises in silent majesty, he begins his delight- 
 ful solo, and serenades us the livelong night with a full 
 display of his vocal powers, making the neighborhood ring 
 with his inimitable medley. 
 
 Alexander Wilson. 
 
OUR FOREST CHORISTERS. 199 
 
 THE PERSEVERING SONGSTER. 
 
 1. A CURIOUS circumstance, quite aside from the ordi- 
 nary dictates of instinct, occurred in the case of a young 
 bobolink, in the family of the Rev. J. W. Turner, of Great 
 Barrington, Massachusetts. He was caged at first apart 
 from a pair of canaries, which were in another cage in the 
 same room. The bobolink never sung at all from June 
 to December, until he was permitted to share in the same 
 cage the civilities and sympathies of his neighbors, the 
 canaries, who had been so long entertaining him with 
 their sweet and unwearied strains. When admitted to the 
 same cage with them, he tried most assiduously to learn 
 their song, at first, however, for a long time, with miser- 
 able success enough. He would stand and watch them 
 with an rgony of attention, and then try to imitate their 
 notes. He would swell out his throat, and stretch up his 
 neck as they did, and then, with a violent effort, try to 
 sound one note, which, in spite of all his zeal and labor, 
 proved to be a mere rough scream. 
 
 2. At this humiliating failure he would be so provoked 
 and enraged that he would fly at his inoffensive and well- 
 meaning mates and teachers, and peck them most unmer- 
 cifully, and drive them from their perch. So he did for 
 three or four weeks, before any apparent progress was 
 made in his studies. But his perseverance was equal to 
 the difficulties he had to overcome. At length he could 
 sound one note well, and one only. And so he continued 
 for some six weeks longer, learning one note at a time, 
 till he had finally completed the whole canary song, and 
 could sing it to perfection. Then he would sing with 
 them in perfect harmony and perfect time, always closing 
 at the exact note with them. 
 
 3. It is also a little singular that, although through all 
 
200 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 this training he was never known to begin to make a sound 
 till the canaries had first struck the key-note, yet, after 
 he had acquired the skill to sing their song, he must al- 
 ways himself now give the signal by a significant cluck, 
 when, instantly, the canaries, generously forgetting or 
 forgiving his former incivilities, would strike in with, and 
 perform the piece with the greatest perfection, and with 
 the highest delight to themselves and the listening family, 
 who enjoyed this singular concert through the early part 
 of every day for the whole summer. 
 
 4. It is also worthy of remark that this successful es- 
 sayist in foreign music was never known to utter a note, 
 or to attempt to utter a note, in his native tongue, till he 
 had mastered the canary. Then, after a few weeks, when 
 he found himself something of an independent singer, and 
 capable, as he thought, of leading the choir, he at last 
 ventured to go without the chorus and attempt his own 
 native melody. In his first attempts at the solo, it was 
 most diverting to hear him in confused notes part in his 
 native bobolink, and part in canary, till at length he was 
 able to expel all foreign element from his style and sing 
 only the pure bobolink. 
 
 5. Having now succeeded in this, he proposed to the 
 canaries to try the chorus again, and gave the "cluck" 
 when the canaries, instant to the sign, started off singing 
 their own native song. But not so the bobolink ; he 
 threw himself on his "reserved rights" and sang bobo- 
 link ; and so they have continued to the present time, he 
 singing bobolink, and they canary. And as he is the chor- 
 ister, they begin when he does, and end when he ends, 
 precisely at the same instant. 
 
 6. When this bobolink was first caught, his colors were 
 a bright, beautiful black and white. After molting, he, 
 for some reason not stated, never resumed his original 
 spring dress, but has continued the plain brown, like the 
 
OUR FOREST CHORISTERS. 201 
 
 female, now for two years ; and sings in the winter as well 
 as in the summer, especially when the sun shines brightly, 
 and the winds whistle in the trees around the dwelling ; 
 and now, since his character is matured, he is a sprightly, 
 happy, gentlemanly sort of a bird. 
 
 Boston Traveler 1851. 
 
 BIRD-NOTES. 
 
 1. THE winged tribes have various sounds and voices, 
 adapted to express their various passions, wants, and feel- 
 ings such as anger, fear, love, hatred, hunger, and the 
 like. All species are not equally eloquent ; some are copi- 
 ous and fluent, as it were, in their utterance, while others 
 are confined to a few important sounds ; no bird, like the 
 fish-kind, is quite mute, though some are rather silent. 
 The language of birds is very ancient, and, like other an- 
 cient modes of speech, very elliptical : little is said, but 
 much is meant and understood. 
 
 2. The notes of the eagle-kind are shrill and piercing, 
 and, about nest-making season, much diversified. The 
 notes of our hawks resemble those of the king of birds. 
 Owls have very expressive notes ; they hoot in a fine vocal 
 sound, much resembling the vox humana, and reducible by 
 a pitch-pipe to a musical key. This note seems to express 
 complacency and rivalry among the males ; they use, also, 
 a quick call and a horrible scream, and can snore and hiss 
 when they mean to menace. Eavens, besides their loud 
 croak, can exert a deep and solemn tone that makes the 
 woods to echo ; the low note of the crow sounds strange 
 and ridiculous ; rooks, in the breeding season, attempt 
 sometimes, in the gayety of their hearts, to sing, but 
 with no great success ; the parrot-kind have many modu- 
 lations of voice, as appears by their aptitude to learn hu- 
 
NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 man sounds ; doves coo in a mournful manner, and are 
 emblems of despairing lovers ; the woodpecker sets up a 
 sort of loud, hearty laugh ; the fern-owl or goat-sucker, 
 from the dusk till daybreak, serenades his mate with the 
 clattering of castanets. 
 
 3. All the tuneful Passeres express their complacency 
 by sweet modulations and a variety of melody. The swal- 
 low, by a shrill alarm, bespeaks the attention of his fellows, 
 and bids them to beware, the hawk is at hand. Aquatic 
 and gregarious birds, especially the nocturnal, that shift 
 their quarters in the dark, are very noisy and loquacious, 
 as cranes, wild geese, wild ducks, and the like : their per- 
 petual clamor prevents them from dispersing and losing 
 their companions. 
 
 4. In so extensive a subject, sketches and outlines are 
 as much as can be expected, for it would be endless to in- 
 stance in all the infinite variety of the feathered tribes. 
 We will, therefore, confine the remainder of this letter to 
 the few domestic fowls of our yards which are most known, 
 and, therefore, best understood. And first the peacock, 
 with his gorgeous train, demands our attention ; but, like 
 most of the gaudy birds, his notes are grating and shock- 
 ing to the ear ; the yelling of cats and the braying of an 
 ass are not more discordant. The voice of the goose is 
 trumpet-like and clanking, and once saved the Capitol at 
 Rome, as grave historians assert ; the hiss, also, of the gan- 
 der is formidable and full of menace, and " protective of 
 his young." 
 
 5. Among ducks the sexual distinction of voice is re- 
 markable, for, while the quack of the female is loud and 
 sonorous, the voice of the drake is inward and harsh and 
 feeble, and scarce discernible. The cock-turkey struts and 
 gobbles in a most uncouth manner ; he hath also a pert 
 and petulant note when he attacks his adversary. When 
 a hen- turkey leads forth her young brood she keeps a 
 
OUR FOREST CHORISTERS. 203 
 
 watchful eye, and if a bird of prey appear, though ever 
 so high in the air, the careful mother announces the enemy 
 with a little inward moan, and watches him with a steady 
 and attentive look ; but, if he approach, her note becomes 
 earnest and alarming, and her outcries are redoubled. 
 
 6. No inhabitants of a yard seem possessed of such a 
 variety of expression and so copious a language as common 
 poultry. Take a chicken of four or five days old and 
 hold it up to a window where there are flies, and it will 
 immediately seize the prey with little twitterings of com- 
 placency ; but if you tender it a wasp or a bee, at once its 
 note becomes harsh, and expressive of disapprobation and 
 a sense of danger. When a pullet is ready to lay, she inti- 
 mates the event by a joyous and easy, soft note. Of all the 
 occurrences of her life, that of laying seems to be the most 
 important ; for no sooner has a hen disburdened herself 
 than she rushes forth with a clamorous kind of joy, which 
 the cock and other hens immediately adopt. The tumult 
 is not confined to the family concerned, but catches from 
 yard to yard, and spreads to every homestead within hear- 
 ing, till at last the whole village is in an uproar. 
 
 7. As soon as a hen becomes a mother, her new relation 
 demands a new language ; she then runs clucking and 
 screaming about, and seems agitated as if possessed. The 
 father of the flock has also a considerable vocabulary. If he 
 finds food, he calls the hens to partake ; and if a bird of prey 
 passes over, with a warning voice he bids his family be- 
 ware. The gallant chanticleer has at command his love- 
 phrases and his terms of defiance. But the sound by 
 which he is best known is his crowing ; by this he has been 
 distinguished in all ages as the countryman's clock or 
 larum, as the watchman that proclaims the divisions of 
 the night. Thus the poet elegantly describes him : 
 
 " . . . . the crested cock, whose clarion sounds 
 The silent hours." 
 
204 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 8. A neighboring gentleman one summer had lost most 
 of his chickens by a sparrow-hawk, that came gliding 
 down between a fagot-pile and the end of his house to the 
 place where the coops stood. The owner, inwardly vexed 
 to see his flock thus diminished, hung a setting-net adroitly 
 between the pile and the house, into which the caitiff 
 dashed and was entangled. Eesentment suggested the 
 law of retaliation ; he therefore clipped the hawk's wings, 
 cut off his talons, and, fixing a cork on his bill, threw 
 him down among the brood-hens. Imagination can not 
 paint the scene that ensued ; the expressions that fear, 
 rage, and revenge inspired were new, or at least such as 
 had been unnoticed before : the exasperated matrons up- 
 braided, they execrated, they insulted, they triumphed. 
 In a word, they never desisted from buffeting their adver- 
 sary till they had torn him into a hundred pieces. 
 
 Willie's Selborne. 
 
 ODE TO THE SKY-LARK. 
 
 1. HAIL to thee, blithe spirit ! 
 
 Bird thou never wert, 
 That from heaven, or near it, 
 
 Pourest thy full heart 
 In profuse strains of unpremeditated art. 
 
 2. Higher still and higher, 
 
 From the earth thou springest 
 Like a cloud of fire ; 
 
 The blue deep thou wingest, 
 And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest. 
 
OUR FOREST CHORISTERS. 205 
 
 3. In the golden lightning 
 
 Of the sunken sun, 
 O'er which clouds are bright'ning, 
 
 Thou dost float and run, 
 Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun. 
 
 4. The pale purple even 
 
 Melts around thy flight ; 
 Like a star of heaven 
 
 In the broad daylight, 
 Thou art unseen, but, yet, I hear thy shrill delight. 
 
 5. What thou art, we know not ; 
 
 What is most like thee ? 
 From rainbow clouds there flow not. 
 
 Drops so bright to see, 
 As from thy presence showers a rain of melody. 
 
 6. Like a poet hidden 
 
 In the light of thought, 
 Singing hymns unbidden, 
 
 Till the world is wrought 
 To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not. 
 
 7. Teach us, sprite or bird, 
 
 What sweet thoughts are thine ; 
 I have never heard 
 
 Praise of love or wine 
 That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine. 
 
 8. Chorus hymeneal, 
 
 Or triumphal chaunt, 
 Matched with thine would be all 
 
 But an empty vaunt 
 A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want. 
 
206 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 9. What objects are the fountains 
 
 Of thy happy strain ? 
 What fields, or waves, or mountains ? 
 
 What shapes of sky or plain ? 
 What love of thine own kind ? what ignorance of pain ? 
 
 10. Waking or asleep, 
 
 Thou of death must deem 
 Things more true and deep 
 Than we mortals dream, 
 Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream ? 
 
 11. We look before and after, 
 
 And pine for what is not : 
 Our sincerest laughter 
 
 With some pain is fraught : 
 Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought. 
 
 12. Teach me half the gladness 
 
 That thy brain must know : 
 Such harmonious madness 
 
 From my lips would flow, 
 The world should listen then as I am listening now. 
 
 Shelley. 
 
OTHER NEIGHBORS 
 THE TREES. 
 
 IN THE WOODS. 
 
 1. OF course, in the deep, primi- 
 tive woods there are nests ; but how 
 rarely we find them ! The simple art 
 of the bird consists in choosing com- 
 mon, neutral-tinted material, as moss, 
 dry leaves, twigs, and various odds 
 and ends, and placing the structure 
 on a convenient branch, where it 
 blends in color with its surround- 
 
208 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 ings ; but how consummate is this art, and how skillfully 
 is the nest concealed ! We occasionally light upon it, but 
 who, unaided by the movements of the bird, could find it 
 out ? During the present season I went to the woods 
 nearly every day for a fortnight, without making any dis- 
 coveries of this kind ; till one day, paying them a farewell 
 visit, I chanced to come upon several nests. 
 
 2. A black and white creeping warbler suddenly became 
 much alarmed as I approached a crumbling old stump in a 
 dense part of the forest. He alighted upon it, chirped 
 sharply, ran up and down its sides, and finally left it with 
 much reluctance. The nest, which contained three young 
 birds nearly fledged, was placed upon the ground at the 
 foot of the stump, and in such a position that the color of 
 the young harmonized perfectly with the bits of bark, 
 sticks, etc., lying about. My eye rested upon them for the 
 second time before I made them out. They hugged the 
 nest very closely, but, as I put down my hand, they all 
 scampered off with loud cries for help, which caused the 
 parent-birds to place themselves almost within my reach. 
 The nest was merely a little dry grass arranged in a thick 
 bed of dry leaves. 
 
 3. This was amid a thick undergrowth. Moving on into 
 a passage of large, stately hemlocks, with only here and there 
 a small beech or maple rising up into the perennial twilight, 
 I paused to make out a note which was entirely new to me. 
 It is still in my ear. Though unmistakably a bird-note, it 
 yet suggested the bleating of a tiny lambkin. Presently 
 the birds appeared a pair of the solitary vireo. They 
 came flitting from point to point, alighting only for a mo- 
 ment at a time, the male silent, but the female uttering 
 this strange, tender note. It was a rendering into some 
 new sylvan dialect of the human sentiment of maidenly 
 love. It was really pathetic in its sweetness and childlike 
 confidence and joy. 
 
OTHER NEIGHBORS IN THE TREES. 209 
 
 4. I soon discovered that the pair were building a nest 
 upon a low branch a few yards from me. The male flew 
 cautiously to the spot and adjusted something, and the 
 twain moved on, the female calling to her mate, at intervals, 
 love-e, love-e, with a cadence and tenderness in the tone 
 that rang in the ear long afterward. The nest was sus- 
 pended to the fork of a small branch, as is usual with the 
 vireos, plentifully lined with lichens, and bound and re- 
 bound with masses of coarse spider-webs. There was no 
 attempt at concealment except in the neutral tints, which 
 made it look like a natural growth of the dim, gray woods. 
 
 5. Continuing my random walk, I next paused in a low 
 part of the woods, where the larger trees began to give 
 place to a thick second growth that covered an old bark- 
 peeling. I was standing by a large maple, when a small 
 bird darted quickly away from it, as if it might have come 
 out of a hole near its base. As the bird paused a few yards 
 from me, and began to chirp uneasily, my curiosity was at 
 once excited. When I saw it was the female mourning 
 ground- warbler, and remembered that the nest of this bird 
 had not yet been seen by any naturalist that not even Dr. 
 Brewer had ever seen the eggs I felt that here was some- 
 thing worth looking for. 
 
 6. So I carefully began the search, exploring inch by 
 inch the ground, the base and roots of the tree, and the 
 various shrubby growths about it, till, finding nothing, and 
 fearing I might really put my foot in it^I bethought me to 
 withdraw to a distance and after some delay return again, 
 and, thus forewarned, note the exact point from which 
 the bird flew. This I did, and, returning, had little 
 difficulty in discovering the nest. It was placed but a 
 few feet from the maple-tree, in a bunch of ferns, and 
 about six inches from the ground. It was quite a massive 
 nest, composed entirely of the stalks and leaves of dry 
 grass, with an inner lining of fine, dark -brown roots. 
 
210 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 The eggs, three in number, were of light flesh-color, uni- 
 formly specked with fine brown specks. The cavity of 
 the nest was so deep that the back of the sitting bird 
 sank below the edge. 
 
 7. In the top of a tall tree, a short distance farther on, 
 I saw the nest of the red-tailed hawk a large mass of 
 twigs and dry sticks. The young had flown, but still lin- 
 gered in the vicinity, and, as I approached, the mother- 
 bird flew about over me, squealing in a very angry, savage 
 manner. Tufts of the hair and other indigestible material 
 of the common meadow-mouse lay around on the ground 
 beneath the nest. 
 
 8. As I was about leaving the woods my hat almost 
 brushed the nest of the red-eyed vireo, which hung basket- 
 like on the end of a low, drooping branch of the beech. 
 I should never have seen it had the bird kept her place. 
 It contained three eggs of the bird's own, and one of the 
 cow-bunting. The strange egg was only just perceptibly 
 larger than the others, yet three days after, when I 
 looked into the nest again and found all but one egg 
 hatched, the young interloper was at least four times as 
 large as either of the others, and with such a superabun- 
 dance of bowels as to almost smother his bed-fellows be- 
 neath them. That the intruder should fare the same as 
 the rightful occupants, and thrive with them, was more 
 than ordinary potluck ; but that it alone should thrive, 
 devouring, as it were, all the rest, is one of those freaks 
 of Nature in which she would seem to discourage the 
 homely virtues of prudence and honesty. Weeds and para- 
 sites have the odds greatly against them, yet they wage a 
 very successful war nevertheless. 
 
 John Burroughs. 
 
OTHER NEIGHBORS IN THE TREES. 211 
 
 HUMMING-BIRDS. 
 
 1. THE discovery of America opened up to the civilized 
 world many new objects of interest in the animal, vege- 
 table, and mineral kingdoms. Not the least in interest was 
 the discovery of an extensive group of birds, consisting of 
 several hundred species, whose diminutive size, quickness 
 of motion, boldness of demeanor, elegance of form, and 
 exquisite beauty of plumage attracted the attention and 
 secured the admiration of every lover of nature. 
 
 2. The larger portion of these birds live in the West 
 Indies and the tropical regions of America. Some occupy 
 only a small island or district ; others, a narrow belt on 
 the side of a mountain : most do not extend their limits 
 beyond a few degrees of latitude, while a few are migratory, 
 and spend the summer in the temperate zone, but return 
 to the tropical regions for the winter. Their food consists 
 of honey and insects ; and, consequently, they must live 
 where flowers grow and insects abound. 
 
 3. The Indians gave to these interesting little creatures 
 fanciful names that expressed the idea of sunbeams, sun- 
 angels, sun-gems, tresses of the day-star, murmuring-birds, 
 and the like. And naturalists have given to them names 
 equally fanciful, expressing the same or similar ideas, such 
 as brilliant birds, light-bearers, sun-seekers, flower-kissers, 
 honey-suckers, living meteors, and many others of similar 
 meaning. They derive their common name from the buz- 
 zing or humming sound which they make with their wings. 
 These vibrate so quickly as to be visible only as a semicir- 
 cular film on each side of the body. The sound made by 
 different species varies with the velocity of their wings. 
 That made by the vervain humming-bird resembles the 
 sound of a large bee, while that made by the polytmus re- 
 sembles the sound of a swiftly revolving wheel. 
 
212 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 4. One of the peculiarities which first strikes a stranger, 
 upon seeing one of these brilliant breathing gems, is the 
 immense power of wing, shown by the quickness of his 
 flight, also by the ease with which he balances himself in 
 the air, whether, foraging unmolested, he is feeding at the 
 flowers, or, attracted by curiosity, he is surveying one's 
 person. He comes so suddenly as to give no warning to 
 the eye ; we hear a buzz, see the bird near us stationary, 
 his form distinct, and when he leaves, so quick and sudden 
 is his flight that the eye can scarcely trace his pathway. 
 The muscles of his wings are more powerful and active, in 
 proportion to his size, than those of any other bird, and 
 the wings are very long and sharp. For this reason he can 
 easily hover, apparently motionless, for any length of time, 
 before a flower whose honey he wishes to obtain. He thus 
 sips the nectar of one flower after another for hours in suc- 
 cession, without showing any signs of weariness, or disturb- 
 ing in the least the most delicate blossom. 
 
 5. If any one wishes to observe these birds and their 
 habits, let him, on a fine, pleasant morning, visit a cluster 
 of gooseberry bushes when in bloom, of whose honey they 
 are exceedingly fond, and he will probably find one or 
 more of them quietly searching the flowers for food. If 
 disturbed, he will frequently rise to a considerable height 
 in an oblique direction, then dart down, almost with the 
 velocity of a bullet, past the place of annoyance, and rise 
 on the opposite side to an equal height ; then return by 
 reversing his course, and so repeat these sweeping move- 
 ments till he sufficiently expresses his disapprobation, 
 drives away his adversary, or retires in disgust. 
 
 6. Their bills are all very slender and sharp. Most of 
 them are long, some are straight, many are curved down- 
 ward, and a few are curved upward. They all appear to 
 be adapted to the kind of flowers from which the birds 
 obtain their food. Their tongue is a slender sucking- tube, 
 
OTHER NEIGHBORS IN THE TREES. 213 
 
 and capable of being thrust out a long distance. It ap- 
 pears as though composed of two minute muscular tubes, 
 lined within by two partial tubes, of a substance resembling 
 parchment, laid side by side, and joined together for about 
 half of their length, but separate toward the tip, near 
 which each partial tube becomes less curved, and appar- 
 ently widened, then tapers to a point, the upper edge being 
 irregularly notched or slit, the barbs pointing backward. 
 
 7. The tongue is constantly moistened by a glutinous 
 saliva, by means of which it is enabled to seize and hold in- 
 sects. Says Martin : "It is by a pumping or sucking ac- 
 tion, as we have every reason to believe, that nectar or 
 fluids are absorbed by the tubular tongue of these birds. 
 In no other vertebrate animals, as far as we know, is the 
 tongue constructed as a tubular sucking-pump : so far, 
 the humming-birds stand alone ; and this circumstance in 
 itself, considering it with reference to organic structure, 
 might be adduced as a reason for regarding these birds as a 
 distinct order." 
 
 8. Mr. Thomas Belt, author of "The Naturalist in 
 Nicaragua," indicates another function performed by the 
 curious cleft tongue of the humming-bird viz., the capture 
 of insects. This organ is, for one half its length, made up 
 of a substance like rather stiff parchment, or horn, and 
 split in two. When at rest, the two halves are laid flat 
 against each other, but they can be separated at the will of 
 the bird, and form a pair of forceps, admirably adapted for 
 picking out minute insects from among the stamens of 
 flowers. 
 
 9. We may admire the elegance of form and the quick- 
 ness of motion of these birds, but the dazzling splendor of 
 their plumage, resembling that of burnished metal or pol- 
 ished gems, changing with every change of position, has a 
 charm for the dullest observer, and a fascination for the 
 more sensitive. The wonderful change in color that takes 
 
214 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 place, according to the position of the light, from brilliant 
 green, through the brightest golden tints, to intense vel- 
 vety black, or from black to emerald, or ruby, or crimson, 
 or flame-color, reminds one of fairy-land, or the tales of 
 the genii. Where a metallic luster prevails, the plumage 
 is always composed of feathers so shaped as to appear to 
 have the form of scales. " The birds vary in respect to the 
 parts that have these feathers. While most have them on 
 the throat, many have them on the breast and head ; others 
 have them also on the back ; some have them on the wing- 
 coverts or tail ; and a few have them on nearly all parts, 
 except the long wing-feathers, which are generally of a pur- 
 plish brown. 
 
 10. It may here be asked, What causes the gorgeous 
 metallic luster of their plumage, and the rich, changing 
 tints of the various colors, representing every hue of the 
 rainbow, purple, amethyst, fiery crimson, brilliant ruby, 
 radiant topaz, emerald green, resplendent blue, and glossy 
 violet, which, in certain lights, often gleam with a reful- 
 gence that almost dazzles the eye ? They have been attri- 
 buted to various causes, but it appears to be the condition 
 of the surface of the feathers that produces the iridescence. 
 The surface is striated, or has minute furrows, like the 
 nacre, or mother-of-pearl of the Haliotis, and other sea- 
 shells, which decompose the light absorbing part, and re- 
 flecting part ; the color of the reflected light depends upon 
 the angle of the incident ray to the surface, and varies as 
 the angle varies. In one direction of the incident ray the 
 light will be wholly absorbed, and none being reflected, the 
 surface will appear intensely black. It will readily be per- 
 ceived that every movement of the bird produces more or 
 less a change of color. Even the heaving of the breast, in 
 breathing, sometimes produces perceptible changes. 
 
 James H. Partridge. 
 
OTHER NEIGHBORS IN THE TREES. 215 
 
 MY AERIAL VISITOR. 
 
 1. TO-DAY, Estelle, your special messenger, the hum- 
 ming-bird, comes darting to our oriel, my Orient. As I 
 sat sewing, his sudden, unexpected whirr made me look up. 
 How did he know that the very first Japan pear-bud opened 
 this morning ? Flower and bird came together by some 
 wise prescience. 
 
 2. He has been sipping honey from your passion-flowers, 
 and now has come to taste my blossoms. What bright- 
 winged thought of yours sent him so straight to me, across 
 that wide space of sea and land ? Did he dart like a sun- 
 beam all the way ? There were many of them voyaged to- 
 gether ; a little line of wavering light pierced the dark that 
 night. 
 
 3. A large, brave heart has our bold sailor of the upper 
 deep. Old Pindar never saw our little pet, this darling of 
 the New World ; yet he says : 
 
 " Were it the will of Heaven, an osier-bough 
 Were vessel safe enough the seas to plow." 
 Here he is, safe enough, not one tiny feather ruffled all 
 the intense life of the tropics condensed into this one live 
 jewel the glance of the sun on emeralds and rubies. Is it 
 soft, downy feathers that take this rich metallic glow, 
 changing their hue with every rapid turn ? . 
 
 4. Other birds fly : he darts quick as the glance of the 
 eye ; sudden as thought, he is here, he is there. No float- 
 ing, balancing motion, like the lazy butterfly, who fans the 
 air with her broad sails. To the point, always to the point, 
 he turns in straight lines. How stumbling and heavy is 
 the flight of the " burly, dozing bumble-bee" beside this 
 quick intelligence ! Our knight of the ruby throat, with 
 lance in rest, makes wild and rapid sallies on this ' ( little 
 mundane bird " this bumble-bee this rolling sailor, never 
 
216 
 
 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 off his sea-legs, always spinning his long homespun yarns. 
 This rich bed of golden and crimson flowers is a handsome 
 
 inq- Birds. 
 
OTHER NEIGHBORS IN THE TREES. 217 
 
 field of tournament. What invisible circle sits round to 
 adjudge the prize ? 
 
 5. What secret does he bring me under those misty 
 wings that busy, birring sound, like neighbor Clark's 
 spinning-wheel ? Is he busy as well this bit of pure light 
 and heat ? Yes ! he too has got a little home down in the 
 swamp over there that bit of a knot on the young oak 
 sapling. Last year we found a nest lined with the floss of 
 willow-catkin stuck all over with lichens, deep enough to 
 secure the two pure round pearls from being thrown out, 
 strongly fastened to the forked branch a home so snug, 
 so warm, so soft ! a home "contrived for fairy needs." 
 
 6. Who but the fairies or Mr. Fine-Ear himself ever 
 heard the tiny tap of the young bird when he breaks the 
 imprisoning shell ? The mother-bird knows well the fine 
 sound. Hours ? Days ? No, weeks she has sat, to hear at 
 last that least wave of sound. What ! this tiny bit of rest- 
 less motion sit there still ? Minutes must be long hours to 
 her quick, panting heart. I will just whisper it in your 
 ear, that the meek-looking mother-bird only comes out be- 
 tween daylight and dark just like other busy mothers I 
 have known, who take a little run out after tea. 
 
 7. Can it be that Mr. Ruby-Throat keeps all the sun- 
 shiny hours for himself, that he may enjoy to the full his 
 own gay flight ? Ah ! you know nothing, hear nothing of 
 woman's rights up there in that well-ordered household. 
 Were it not well if we too could give up our royal right of 
 choice if we could fall back on our strong earth-born in- 
 stincts to be, to know, to do, one thing ? 
 
 8. See how closely our darling curls up his slender 
 black feet and legs, that we may not see this one bit of 
 mortality about him ! No, my little immortal does not 
 touch the earth; he hangs suspended by that long bill 
 which just tethers him to its flowers. Now and then he 
 will let down the little black tendrils of legs and feet on 
 
 10 
 
218 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 some bare twig, and there he rests and presses those already 
 smooth plumules with the long, slender bodkin. Now, just 
 now, he darts into my room, coquets with my basket of 
 flowers, " a kiss, a touch, and then away." I heard the 
 whirr of those gauzy wings ; it was not to the flowers alone 
 he told his story. 
 
 9. I have heard of a lady who reared these little birds 
 from the nest ; they would suck honey from her lips, and 
 fly in and out of her chamber. Only think of seeing these 
 callow fledglings ! It is as if the winged thought could be 
 domesticated, could learn to make its nest with us and rear 
 its young. Bountiful nature has spared to our cold North 
 this one compact bit from the tropics. 
 
 10. Let me, then, go on my bird's-egging, and tell you 
 one more fact about our fairy our humming-bird. Au- 
 dubon says that " an all- wise Providence has made this 
 little hero an exception to a rule which prevails almost 
 universally through nature namely, that the smallest 
 species of a tribe are the most prolific. The eagle lays one, 
 sometimes two eggs ; the small European wren fifteen ; the 
 humming-bird two ; and yet this latter is abundantly more 
 numerous in America than the wren in Europe." All on 
 account of his wonderful courage, admirable instinct, or 
 whatever it is that guards and guides him so unerringly. 
 You see we may well love him who Nature herself loves so 
 
 dearly. Atlantic Monthly. 
 
 RARE AND BEAUTIFUL NESTS. 
 
 1. THE woods hold not such another gem as the nest of 
 the humming-bird. The finding of one is an event to date 
 from. It is the next best thing to finding an eagle's nest. 
 I have met with but two, both by chance. One was placed 
 on the horizontal branch of a chestnut-tree, with a solitary 
 
OTHER NEIGHBORS IN THE TREES. 219 
 
 green leaf, forming a complete canopy, about an inch and 
 a half above it. The repeated spiteful dartings of the bird 
 past my ears, as I stood under the tree, caused me to sus- 
 pect that I was intruding upon some one's privacy ; and, 
 following it with my eye, I soon saw the nest, which was 
 in process of construction. Adopting my usual tactics of 
 secreting myself near by, I had the satisfaction of seeing 
 the tiny artist at work. It was the female, unassisted by 
 her mate. At intervals of two or three minutes she would 
 appear with a small tuft of some cottony substance in her 
 beak, dart a few times through and around the tree, and, 
 alighting quickly in the nest, arrange the material she had 
 brought, using her breast as the model. 
 
 2. The other nest I discovered in a dense forest on the 
 side of a mountain. The sitting bird was disturbed as I 
 passed beneath her. The whirring of her wings arrested 
 my attention, when, after a short pause, I had the good 
 luck to see, through an opening in the leaves, the bird re- 
 turn to her nest, which appeared like a mere wart or ex- 
 crescence on a small branch. The humming-bird, unlike 
 all others, does not alight upon the nest, but flies into it. 
 She enters it as quick as a flash, but as light as any feather. 
 Two eggs are the complement. They are perfectly white, 
 and so frail that only a woman's fingers may touch them. 
 Incubation lasts about ten days. In a week the young 
 have flown. 
 
 3. But the nest of nests, the ideal nest, after we have 
 left the deep woods, is unquestionably that of the Balti- 
 more oriole. It is the only perfectly pensile nest we have. 
 The nest of the orchard oriole is indeed mainly so, but this 
 bird generally builds lower and shallower, more after the 
 manner of the vireos. 
 
 4. The Baltimore oriole loves to attach its nest to the 
 swaying branches of the tallest elms, making no attempt at 
 concealment, but satisfied if the position be high and the 
 
220 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 branch pendent. This nest would seem to cost more time 
 and skill than any other bird-structure. A peculiar flax- 
 like substance seems to be always sought after and always 
 found. The nest, when completed, assumes the form of a 
 large, suspended, gourd-shaped drop. The walls are thin 
 but firm, and proof against the most driving rain. The 
 mouth is hemmed or overhanded with horse-hair, and the 
 sides are usually sewed through and through with the 
 same. 
 
 5. Not particular as to the matter of secrecy, the bird 
 is not particular as to material, so that it be of the nature 
 of strings or threads. A lady friend once told me that, 
 while working by an open window, one of these birds ap- 
 proached during her momentary absence, and, seizing a 
 skein of some kind of thread or yarn, made off with it to 
 its half -finished nest. But the perverse yarn caught fast 
 in the branches, and, in the bird's efforts to extricate it, 
 got hopelessly tangled. She tugged away at it all day, but 
 was finally obliged to content herself with a few detached 
 portions. The fluttering strings were an eyesore to her 
 ever after, and, passing and repassing, she would pause to 
 give them a spiteful jerk, as much as to say, " There is 
 that confounded yarn that gave me so much trouble." 
 
 John BurrougJis. 
 
 BIRD-WAYS. 
 
 1. I BELIEVE we allow that birds are very highly organ- 
 ized creatures next to man, they say. We, with our 
 weary feet plodding always on the earth, our heavy arms 
 pinioned close to our sides, look at this live creature with 
 thinnest wing cutting the fine air ! We, slow in word, slow 
 in thought, look at this quivering flame, kindled by some 
 more passionate glance of Nature ! Next to man ? Yes, we 
 
OTHER NEIGHBORS IN THE TREES. 221 
 
 might say, next above. Had it not been for that fire we 
 stole one day, that Promethean spark, hidden in the ashes, 
 kept alight ever since, it had gone hard with us. Nature 
 might have kept her pet, her darling, high, high above us 
 almost out of reach of our dull senses. 
 
 2. What is our boasted speech, with its harsh, rude 
 sounds, to their gushing melody ? We learn music, cer- 
 tainly, with much pains and care. The bird can not tell 
 whether it be A sharp or B flat, but he sings. Our old 
 friend the friend of our childhood Mr. White of Selborne 
 (who had attended much to the life and conversation of 
 birds), says : " Their language is very elliptical ; little is 
 said, and much is meant and understood." Something like 
 a lady's letter, is it not ? 
 
 3. How wise we might grow if only we could "the bird 
 language rightly spell " ! In the olden times we are told 
 the caliphs and viziers always listened to what the birds 
 said about it before they undertook any new enterprise. I 
 have often thought I heard wise old folk discoursing when 
 a company of hens were busy on the side-hill scratching 
 and clucking together. Perchance some day we shall pick 
 up a leaf of that herb which shall open our ears to these 
 our inarticulate sounds. 
 
 4. Why may we not (just for this summer) believe in 
 transmigrations, and find some elder civilization embodied 
 in this community of birds all those lost arts taken wings, 
 not to fly away, but to come flitting and, building in our 
 trees, picking crumbs from our door-steps ? 
 
 5. Do they say birds are limited ? Who are we that 
 set bounds to this direct knowledge, this instinct ? Mathe- 
 matically constructive they certainly are. What bold archi- 
 tect has builded so snug, so airy a house well concealed, 
 and yet with a good outlook ? We make our dwellings 
 conspicuous ; they hide their pretty art. 
 
 6. We wiseacres, who stay at home instead of following 
 
222 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 the seasons round the globe, should learn the art of making 
 happy homes ; yet what housekeeper will not hang her 
 head in shame and despair to see this nice adaptation of 
 use to wants, shown each year in multitudes of nests ? 
 Now, only look at it ! always just room enough none to 
 spare. First, the four or five eggs lie comfortably in the 
 small round at the bottom of the nest, with room enough 
 for the mother-robin to give them the whole warmth of 
 her broad, red breast, her sloping back and wings making 
 a rain-proof roof over her jewels. Then the callow young- 
 lings raise a little higher into the wider circle. Next the 
 fledglings brim the cup ; at last it runs over ; four large, 
 clumsy robins flutter to the ground with much noise, much 
 anxious calling from papa and mamma much good advice, 
 no doubt. 
 
 7. They are fairly turned out to shift for themselves ; 
 with the same wise, unfathomable eyes which have mir- 
 rored the round world for so many years, which know all 
 things, say nothing older than time, lively and quick as to- 
 day ; with the same touching melody in their long, monoto- 
 nous call ; soon with the same power of wing ; next year 
 to build a nest with the same wise economy, each young 
 robin carrying in his own swelling, bulging breast the model 
 of the hollow circle, the cradle of other young robins. So 
 you see it is a nest within a nest a whole nest of nests. 
 Like Vishnu Saima's fables, or Scheherazade's stories, you 
 can never find where one leaves off and another begins, 
 they shut so one into the other. No wonder the children 
 and philosophers are they who ask whether the egg comes 
 from the bird, or the bird from the egg. Yes, it is a world- 
 circle, a home-circle this nest. 
 
 8. You remember that little, old, withered man who 
 used to bring us eggs. The boys, you know, called him 
 Egg- Pop. When the thrifty housewife complained of the 
 small size of his ware, he always said, t ' Yes, marm, they 
 
OTHER NEIGHBORS IN THE TREES. 223 
 
 be small, but they be monstrous full." Yes, the pack- 
 ing of the nest is close, but closer is the packing of the 
 egg. " As full as an egg of meat " is a wise proverb. 
 
 9. Let us look at these first-fruits which the bountiful 
 spring hangs on our trees. "To break the egg-shell after 
 the meat is out we are taught in our childhood, and prac- 
 tice in all our lives ; which, nevertheless, is but a supersti- 
 tious relic, according to the judgment of Pliny, and the in- 
 tent hereof was to prevent witchcraft (to keep the fairies 
 out) ; for, lest witches should draw or prick their names 
 therein, and veneficiously mischief their persons, they 
 broke the shell, as Dalecampius has observed." This is 
 what Sir Thomas Browne tells us about egg-shells, and Dr. 
 Wren adds : " Lest they (the witches), perchance, might use 
 them for boates to sayle in by night. " But I, who have no 
 fear of witches, would not break them rather use them ; 
 try what an untold variety of forms we may make out of 
 this delicate oval. 
 
 10. By a little skillful turning and reversing, putting 
 on a handle, a lip here, a foot there, always following the 
 sacred oval, we shall get a countless array of pitchers and 
 vases of perfect finished form, handsome enough to be the 
 oval for a king's name. Should they attempt to copy our 
 rare vases in finest parian, alabaster, or jasper their art 
 would fail to hit the delicate tints and smoothness of this 
 fine shell ; and then those dots and dashes, careless as put 
 on by a master's hand ! 
 
 11. Are not these rare lines ? They look to me as wise 
 as hieroglyphics. Who knows what rhyme and reason are 
 written there what subtile wisdom rounded into this 
 small curve repeated on the breasts and backs of the birds 
 their own notes, it may be, photographed on their swell- 
 ing breasts like the musical notes on the harp-shell writ- 
 ten in bright, almost audible colors, on the petals of the 
 flowers harmonies, melodies for ear and eye ? Has this 
 
224: NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 language older than Erse, older than Sanscrit ever got 
 translated ? I am afraid, dear, the key has been turned in 
 the lock and thrown into the well. 
 
 12. The ornithologists tell us that some birds build 
 nicer nests, sing sweeter songs, than their companions of 
 the same species. Can experience add wisdom to instinct ? 
 or is it the right of the elder-born the birthright of the 
 young robin who first breaks the shell ? Who has rightly 
 looked into these things ? 
 
 13. I half remember the story of a beautiful princess 
 who had all imaginable wealth in her stately palace, itself 
 built up of rare and costly jewels. She had everything 
 that heart could desire everything but a roc's egg. Her 
 mind was contracted with sorrow till she could procure 
 this one ornament more to her splendors. I think it turned 
 out that the palace itself was built within the roc's egg. 
 These birds are immense, and take up three elephants at a 
 time in their powerful talons (almost as many as Gordon 
 Cummmgs himself on a good day's hunt), and their eggs are 
 like domes. 
 
 14. Now, do not you be like the foolish princess, and 
 desire a roc's egg ; it will prove a stone the egg of a rock 
 indeed. Be content, rather, with the ostrich-egg I send you. 
 With your own slender fingers lift the lid ; pretty, is it not, 
 the tea-service I send you ? The tidy warblers threw out 
 the emptied shells ; one by one I picked them up, and have 
 made cups and saucers, bowls and pitchers for you. A 
 roc's egg never held anything one half so fine. 
 
 Atlantic Monthly. 
 
OTHER NEIGHBORS IN THE TREES. 225 
 
 THE BANK-SWALLOW. 
 
 1. THE bird which is the subject of this sketch is fa- 
 miliar to all who walk in green pastures and beside still 
 waters ; for in such haunts do the bank-swallows congre- 
 gate in merry companies, making up for their want of com- 
 panionship with man by a large sociability among them- 
 selves. Conservator of ancient ways, it is almost the only 
 swallow which has not attached itself to humanity, as soon 
 as it had an opportunity, and changed from a savage to a 
 civilized bird. Perhaps, too, it has tried it long ago, for 
 our bank-swallow is a cosmopolite, and has watched the 
 rise and fall of all the dynasties and nationalities that have 
 grouped the centuries into eras from Nineveh to San Fran- 
 cisco. 
 
 2. They are at present inhabitants of both continents 
 nearly throughout their whole extent, in summer peopling 
 the banks of Alaskan rivers, and in winter sporting them- 
 selves in the tropical regions of Mexico and Central Amer- 
 ica. So this modest little band is entitled to our respect 
 as a traveler at least ; and to compare the habits and ap- 
 pearance of the representatives in different portions of the 
 globe becomes a most interesting study. 
 
 3. Under the name of bank-swallow, sand-swallow, 
 sand-martin, it is found throughout the northern hemi- 
 sphere wherever the localities are favorable for building 
 their nests. In this distribution they seem to have been 
 influenced by man, though owing him no other favors than 
 the incidental help of railroad cuttings and sand-pits, 
 which have increased the sites suitable for excavating, and 
 have enabled them to spread inland. 
 
 4. Where these and other swallows spend the winter 
 was a hotly debated question among ornithologists at the 
 beginning of the present century, some affirming that they 
 
226 
 
 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 migrated with the sun, while others, believing it impossible 
 that such small and delicate birds could endure the great 
 fatigue and temperatures incident to such a migration, 
 
 -Bank-Swallows and their 
 
 held that they regularly hibernated, during the cold weath- 
 er, sinking into the mud at the bottom of ponds, like 
 frogs, or curling up in deep, warm crannies, like bats, and 
 remaining torpid until revived by the warmth of spring. 
 
OTHER NEIGHBORS IK THE TREES. 227 
 
 5. Of this latter opinion was White, of Selborne, who 
 alludes to it again and again, and Sir Thomas Forster wrote 
 a " Monograph of British Swallows/' apparently with no 
 other object than to present the arguments for and against 
 the theory of their annual submersion and torpidity. One 
 of the difficulties which the subme-rsionists put in the way 
 of the migrationists was the frequent accidental and iso- 
 lated appearance of the swallow before its usual time a fact 
 that has, in nearly every language, given rise to the proverb, 
 "One swallow does not make a summer." The story is 
 well known of a thin brass plate having been fixed on a 
 swallow with this inscription : " Prithee, swallow, whither 
 goest thou in winter ? " The bird returned next spring 
 with the answer subjoined : "To Anthony, of Athens. 
 Why dost thou inquire ? " 
 
 6. Out of this controversy, evidence of their sudden 
 autumnal adjournment to Africa accumulated in England. 
 Wilson, in this country, showed that their advance could 
 be traced in the spring from New Orleans to Lake Superior 
 and back again, and their regular migration soon came to 
 be acknowledged. Then attention was turned to the sea- 
 son, manner, and limits of their migrations, and it was 
 found that, taking advantage of favorable winds, immense 
 flocks of swallows and many other birds of passage as well 
 flying very high, passed each fall from the coast of Eng- 
 land to the coast of Africa, and from Continental Europe 
 across the Mediterranean direct, whence, they spread south- 
 ward almost to the Cape of Good Hope. No sooner had 
 the spring fairly opened than they were suddenly back 
 again, very much exhausted at first with their long-sus- 
 tained effort, but speedily recuperated and " diligent in 
 business." Our own migrants winter in Central America 
 and the West Indies, or still farther south. 
 
 7. Their flight is rapid, but unsteady, " with odd jerks 
 .and vacillations not unlike the motions of a butterfly," as 
 
228 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 White describes it; and continues : "Doubtless the flight 
 of all hirundines is influenced by and adapted to the pecu- 
 liar sort of insects which furnish their food. Hence it 
 would be worth inquiry to examine what particular genus 
 of insects affords the principal food of each respective spe- 
 cies of swallow." They are constantly on the wing, skim- 
 ming low over land and loch, pausing not even to drink or 
 bathe, but simply dropping into some limpid lake as they 
 sweep by to sip a taste of water, or cleanse their dirty coats. 
 It seems strange, then, that birds who sustain the unremit- 
 ting exertion of a flight scarcely less than a hundred miles 
 an hour in speed, during the whole of a long summer's day, 
 should not be thought capable of a transition from England 
 to Africa. 
 
 8. The secret of the local distribution of the bank-swal- 
 low is the presence or absence of vertical banks suitable for 
 them to penetrate for their burrows in which their nests 
 are placed. Firm sand, with no admixture of pebbles, is 
 preferred, and in such a bank, be it on sea-shore, river- 
 bank, sand-pit, or railroad-cutting, the face will be fairly 
 honey-combed with burrows, and here this charming and 
 graceful bird may be seen in hundreds and thousands. 
 Their domiciles are usually very close together, and the 
 wonder is how the birds can distinguish their own doors. 
 If mistakes do occur, I imagine they are very polite about 
 it, for I know of no more peaceable bird than they. 
 
 9. In digging out their burrows they use their hard and 
 sharp beaks, like a pickaxe, to loosen the earth, after which 
 they remove it with their claws. Their burrows usually 
 slope slightly upward, to avoid trouble from the rain, and 
 they extend back from two to ten feet, depending upon 
 the nature of the soil. The burrows will be placed high 
 or low upon the cliff, as the birds have to fear enemies from 
 above or below. The time employed to complete their 
 burrows is from four days to two weeks. 
 
OTHER NEIGHBORS IN THE TREES. 229 
 
 10. The nests are at the extremities of the burrows. 
 When the mother-bird is sitting, you may thrust your arm 
 in and seize her, and she will scarcely struggle or show a 
 sign of life. The young do not leave their nests until able 
 to get their own living. Sometimes they are pushed off by 
 their parents to make room for a new brood. As they pass 
 out into the great world upon inexperienced wings, many 
 of them fall a prey to the crows and hawks which are con- 
 stantly on the lookout for them. Those who escape collect 
 in small companies and roost at night among the river- 
 reeds, until the time comes for their migration, when they 
 join the elder companies and are off over land and sea. 
 
 11. But not the young alone are exposed to enemies. 
 It would seem as though the situation of the nest pre- 
 cluded invasion, yet if they are near the haunts of the 
 house-sparrow they are sure to be dispossessed of their homes 
 by that buccaneer. Snakes, too, can sometimes reach their 
 holes ; weasels, like that one Mr. Hewitson tells us of, are 
 often sharp enough to make their entree from above ; 
 school-boys regard the pink-white eggs a fine prize ; and, 
 last and worst of all, the bank-swallows are many times 
 utterly worried out of their galleries by fleas and young 
 horse-flies, which swarm and increase in their nests until 
 the bird finds endurance no longer a virtue, and digs a new 
 
 burr W - Ernst Ingersoll. 
 
 JAYS AND THEIR MISSION. 
 
 1. " THE mission of birds " has been a favorite study of 
 mine nearly seventy years, and loses none of its interest 
 with the advancement of age. Before I knew anything of 
 ornithology as a science, or had access to the first edition 
 of Wilson in 1813-'14, I had become familiar with the 
 common names and habits of very many of the birds of 
 
230 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 Connecticut, and the summer and autumn of 1810, spent 
 in northern Ohio, furnished me with a starting-point to 
 note the wonderful changes in the animal and vegetable 
 kingdoms, incidental to the conversion of this State from 
 a wilderness into a land of cities, villages, and cultivated 
 farms changes as great and numerous as those which 
 mark the transition of one period into another in geologi- 
 cal history. 
 
 2. In the year 1840 I located on my farm, bordering on 
 Lake Erie, five miles west of Cleveland. Every apple and 
 wild-cherry tree in the vicinity was then extensively im- 
 paired, disfigured, and denuded of its leaves by the bag- 
 worm, called in New England the tent-caterpillar, which 
 annually appeared in numerous colonies. The evil was so 
 extensive that even the most thorough farmers ceased, 
 in despair, to attempt its counteraction. At that period I 
 began to set out evergreen-trees of many species extensive- 
 ly, both for the shelter and the ornament of my grounds 
 an example soon followed by several of my neighbors. 
 Favorable soil and cultivation rapidly developed stately 
 growths, forest-like, in dense clumps. 
 
 3. While these were progressing, extensive ranges of na- 
 tive hemlocks and pines, bordering the precipitous banks 
 of Rocky River, were as rapidly falling before the axe and 
 cultivation. These ranges are from two to seven miles 
 west from my locality, and had long been a favorite resort 
 of the jay, as well as numerous other birds, not to mention 
 quadrupeds and reptiles. 
 
 4. When my Norway spruces had attained to the height 
 of some ten or twelve feet, I was pleased to find them 
 occupied one spring by colonies of these jays, apparently 
 migrating from the perishing evergreen forests along the 
 river, and during the ensuing winter the new tenants, aug- 
 mented in numbers, made these incipient forests their 
 places of abode. Each successive year found them still 
 
OTHER NEIGHBORS IN THE TREES. 231 
 
 more numerous and exempt from the interruption of their 
 enemies, the red squirrel, blue racer, and idle gunners, all 
 of whom were abundant and destructive in their former 
 resorts. They soon became so familiar as to feed about 
 our yards and corn-cribs. 
 
 5. At the dawn of every pleasant day throughout the 
 year, the nesting season excepted, a stranger in my house 
 might well suppose that all the axles in the county were 
 screeching aloud for lubrication, hearing the harsh and 
 discordant utterances of these birds. During the day the 
 poultry might be frequently seen running into their hid- 
 ing-places, and the gobbler with his upturned eye search- 
 ing the heavens for the enemy, all excited and alarmed by 
 the mimic utterances of the adept ventriloquists, the jays 
 simulating the cries of the red-shouldered and the red- 
 tailed hawks. 
 
 6. The domestic circle of the barn-yard evidently never 
 gained any insight into the deception by experience ; for, 
 though the trick was repeated every few hours, the excite- 
 ment would always be re-enacted. 
 
 7. During the period of incubation silence reigned ; not 
 a note or utterance was heard ; and it required close scru- 
 tiny to discover the numerous individual jays concealed in 
 the dense clumps of limbs and foliage. If, however, a 
 stranger, a dog, cat, hawk, or owl chanced to invade these 
 evergreen groups, the scene rapidly changed. 
 
 8. With my person they became so familiar that I could 
 closely approach them, and sit for hours under the shade 
 of these trees without exciting their fears. A family ceme- 
 tery occupies a place beneath the evergreens. On one occa- 
 sion a lady, pensively bent over the grave of a departed 
 friend, strewing flowers, received a smart blow upon the 
 head. Alarmed, she arose, expecting to discover some 
 evil-disposed person in the vicinity. Her eye could not 
 ascertain the source of the blow, and she resumed her oc- 
 
232 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 cupation, when the blow was renewed, and she soon saw 
 her assailant perched on a limb just overhead, threatening 
 to renew the contest. Near by was a female bird, brood- 
 ing over a nest of young, and angrily watching the intru- 
 der. 
 
 9. Soon after they had emigrated to my evergreens, I 
 once noticed one of the birds engaged in tearing open a 
 nest of the bag-worm on an apple-tree. Thinking the act 
 was a mere destructive impulse, I was about walking 
 away, when the bird, with its bill apparently filled with 
 several living and contorting larvae, changed its position to 
 a tree close by where I was standing. After several nerv- 
 ous and angry bows of the head and flirts of the wings, it 
 eyed me sternly, and seemed to say, "You are inquisitive 
 and meddling with that which is none of your business. 
 We wish to be let alone." Its next removal was to an ad- 
 jacent black-spruce-tree, where I could plainly see it dis- 
 tributing the captive bag-worms to sundry open and up- 
 lifted mouths. 
 
 10. From this hint I was led closely to watch the fur- 
 ther proceedings of the community. Before the young 
 birds had passed from the care of the parents, most of the 
 worms' nests had been broken into, many were torn into 
 threads, and the number of occupants evidently diminished. 
 Two or three years afterward not a worm was to be seen in 
 that neighborhood, and more recently I have searched for 
 it in vain, in order to rear some cabinet specimens of the 
 moth. In several adjacent townships it is said to be still 
 common. 
 
 11. Early in the month of April, two years since, my 
 attention was awakened by a commotion among the birds 
 in my evergreens. It involved not only jays and crow- 
 blackbirds, but robins and bluebirds. Combatants seemed 
 to have gathered from the whole country around. At 
 times half a dozen of these several species would engage in 
 
OTHER NEIGHBORS IN THE TREES. 233 
 
 a contest, screaming, biting, and pulling out feathers ; and 
 at length, in many instances, the birds, lost in rage, would 
 actually fall to the ground. For two days this fight con- 
 tinued. At length the jays disappeared, and I have not 
 seen half a dozen individuals on my farm since that period. 
 A numerous colony of crow-blackbirds have reared their 
 young there during the two past seasons, and have been 
 equally assiduous in collecting worms of different species. 
 Whether the abandoning of the locality by the jays was 
 owing exclusively to the intrusion of the blackbirds, or in 
 part to the scarcity of their favorite bag-worms, I can not 
 well determine. Jared p ^ Kirtland ^ 
 
 SUMMARY JUSTICE. 
 
 1. IK his later years the celebrated Cuvier loved to re- 
 count the incident which first turned his attention to the 
 study of natural history. While young, and in want, he 
 was engaged as tutor, and with his pupils inhabited an old 
 chateau in the country. Cuvier's room looked toward the 
 garden, and early each morning he was accustomed to open 
 his window and breathe the fresh air before commencing 
 the instruction of his somewhat undisciplined pupils. One 
 morning he remarked two swallows building a nest in the 
 outer angle of his small casement. The male bird brought 
 moist clay in his beak, which the hen, as it were, kneaded 
 together, and, with the addition of straws and bits of hay, 
 formed their future home. Once the frame-work was 
 completed, both birds hastened to line the interior with 
 feathers, wool, and dried leaves ; and then taking flight 
 together into a neighboring wood, they did not return to 
 their nest until after the lapse of several days. 
 
 2. Meantime, some important events had happened. 
 
234 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 While the two swallows were so busily employed in con- 
 structing their home, Cuvier had remarked two sparrows 
 perched on a neighboring chimney, who seemed to watch 
 the progress of affairs with much curiosity. The treach- 
 erous object of this surveillance speedily became apparent, 
 for no sooner had the poor swallows left the coast clear 
 than the pair of sparrows took possession of the nest, and 
 established themselves in it as comfortably as though it had 
 been their own property. Cuvier remarked that they 
 never absented themselves together from the nest; one 
 always remained on the watch, with its sturdy bill pro- 
 truded through the entrance, prepared to exclude every 
 visitor except its mate. 
 
 3. At the end of the honeymoon the rightful owners 
 returned. What was their surprise to find their nest pre- 
 occupied ! The cock flew indignantly against his dwelling, 
 to expel the intruders, but was met by the formidable beak 
 of the male sparrow, which quickly repulsed the unlucky 
 proprietor with a bleeding head and ruffled feathers. 
 Trembling with rage and shame, and his bright eye dart- 
 ing fire, he returned to his bride, perched on a green bough, 
 and seemed for some moments to hold an anxious colloquy 
 with her. Then they took flight together, and soon disap- 
 peared. 
 
 4. Presently the hen-sparrow returned, and her hus- 
 band began, as Cuvier conjectured, to give her an animated 
 account of his adventure, accompanying the recital with 
 certain curious little cries, which might well pass for de- 
 risive laughter. Be that as it may, the prudent pair did 
 not waste much time in chattering, but hastened out in 
 turns to collect and store up a quantity of provisions. 
 This accomplished, they both remained within, and now 
 two stout beaks were placed ready to defend the entrance. 
 Cries resounded in the air ; crowds of swallows began to 
 assemble on the roof. Cuvier recognized in the midst of 
 
OTHER NEIGHBORS IN THE TREES. 235 
 
 them the expelled householders making their wrongs known 
 to each fresh arrival. 
 
 5. Ere long there were assembled in full conclave up- 
 ward of two hundred swallows. While they were chatter- 
 ing in a style that fully rivaled the performances of many 
 speakers in more ambitious and celebrated meetings, a cry 
 of distress was heard from one of the window-sills. A 
 young swallow, tired, no doubt, of the long parliamentary 
 debate, had betaken himself to the pursuit of some flies 
 who were buzzing about the window. Cuvier's pupils had 
 placed a snare on the sill, and the poor little bird found 
 one of its slender legs entangled by the cruel horse-hair. 
 
 6. At the cry of the captive, about twenty of his breth- 
 ren flew toward him, and tried to set him free ; but in vain. 
 Each effort only served to tighten his bonds, and so in- 
 crease his pain. Suddenly the swallows, as if with one 
 consent, took flight, and, wheeling in the air, came one by 
 one and gave a sharp peck at the snare, which, after re- 
 peated pulls, snapped in two, and the free bird flew joyously 
 away with his kind companions. During this scene, which 
 passed within a few yards of Cuvier, and at about the same 
 distance as the usurped nest, the tutor remained motion- 
 less, and the two sparrows never once stirred their threat- 
 ening, protruded beaks. 
 
 7. Suddenly, and swift as thought, flew a host of swal- 
 lows against the nest : each had his bill filled with mud, 
 which he discharged against the entranee, and then gave 
 place to another, who repeated the same manoeuvre. This 
 they managed to accomplish while two inches distant 
 from the nest, so as to keep out of reach of the beleaguered 
 sparrows. Indeed, the latter were so effectually blinded 
 by the first discharge of mud that they no longer thought 
 of defending themselves. Meantime, the swallows con- 
 tinued to heap mud on the nest, until it was completely 
 covered : the opening would have been quite choked up 
 
236 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 but for the desperate efforts made by the sparrows, who 
 by several convulsive shocks contrived to shake off some of 
 the pellets. But a detachment of the implacable swallows 
 perched on the nest, and with their beaks and claws 
 smoothed and pressed down the tough clay over the open- 
 ing, and at length succeeded in closing it hermetically. 
 Then were heard from hundreds of little throats cries of 
 vengeance and of victory ! 
 
 8. But the swallows did not end their work here. 
 They hastened to bring from all directions materials for a 
 second nest, which they constructed over the blocked-up 
 entrance of the first one ; and, in two hours after the exe- 
 cution of the sparrows, the new nest was inhabited by the 
 ejected swallows. Inexorable justice was now satisfied. 
 Not only were the unfortunate sparrows doomed to expiate 
 their crime by a lingering death, but they were forced 
 during their torments to listen to the joyful song of the 
 two swallows, the cause of their execution. 
 
 Chambers' 's Journal. 
 
 THE BIRD OF NIGHT. 
 
 1. THE owls are rapacious birds, and, in company with all 
 the true birds of prey, belong to the great order Raptores. 
 The order branches into two large groups, known, respec- 
 tively, as the diurnal and the nocturnal birds of prey. To 
 the Diurnes belong the vultures, hawks, and eagles ; to the 
 Nocturnes belong the owls. 
 
 2. If Mrs. Malaprop can not see why the owl is a " rap- 
 turous bird," she can admit its claim to openness of coun- 
 tenance. Once seen, the owl can never be mistaken ; its 
 flat, pussy face, and large, brassy cat-eyes, set square in 
 front of the head, are so un bird-like. It was a London 
 
OTHER NEIGHBORS IN THE TREES. 237 
 
 holiday ; a shop-woman and her daughter stood before the 
 cage of nocturnal Raptor -es at the " Zoo." Said the elder : 
 "See these h eagles !" to which the younger replied : "Them 
 isn't heagles, they're 'awks." " If you please," interposed 
 a servant standing near, " them isn't heagles nor 'awks, 
 they're howls. My maister's son once kept one." 
 
 3. The owls are found nearly the whole world over. The 
 books mention about two hundred species, as species are yet 
 understood, and queer specimens are they, every one. As 
 a rule, how trim, spruce, compact, and graceful are the fal- 
 cons, the typical birds of prey ! How fluffy, squatty, and 
 dowdyish is the typical owl ! Whether it means little or 
 much, it is thus with the diurnal and the nocturnal Lepi- 
 doptera. As the elder naturalist said : "If any analogy is 
 allowable between different tribes of animals, the owls 
 might be said to resemble moths " (the night-fliers), " and 
 to differ from the diurnal birds of prey as these do from the 
 butterflies " (the day-fliers). These birds have been called 
 "feathered cats," for the owl, cat-like, prowls at night, 
 and steals upon its victim by a quick, fluffy, still swoop or 
 spring. With the silent movements of a spirit, and aToice 
 so supernatural, and with certain associations of time and 
 place, the effect is appalling. 
 
 4. The owls are intensely carnivorous. The diminutive 
 ones will feed largely upon insects, and some of the large 
 kinds will eat them occasionally. But nature has made 
 them for prowlers, and as such we find them fond of flesh, 
 fowl, and fish. So immense is their destruction of the 
 smaller rodents that they are worth millions to the agri- 
 culture of our country. They are the feathered Nimrods 
 of the night. Even the American hare, the rabbit wrongly 
 called, falls an easy victim. 
 
 5. Some of the owls can fish, too. But whether hunt- 
 ing, fowling, or fishing, they lack the style of doing it 
 which belongs to the falcon tribe ; and when out bugging 
 
238 
 
 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 A Group of Owls. 
 
 it is but a bungling business compared with the profession- 
 al rdle of the insectivorous birds. Their angling, too, is 
 simply upon quiet waters. They can not brave " the mu- 
 
OTHER NEIGHBORS IN THE TREES. 239 
 
 tinous winds 'twixt the green sea and the azured vault." 
 In common with all the Raptores, they catch their prey 
 with the talons, not with the beak. In eating birds, the 
 owl prefers to tear his prey in piecemeal, but a small ro- 
 dent is swallowed entire, being usually tossed into the air 
 to adjust its position, so that it may fall head first into the 
 bird's mouth. It disappears in one astonishing gulp. A 
 second gulp is usually needed, as the tail is often after the 
 first left hanging from one side of the mouth. 
 
 6. The great horned owl has usually a white collar 
 around its neck. It is truly a magnificent bird, of indomi- 
 table spirit and large size, being about two feet in length. 
 It does not migrate, and is found pretty much all over 
 North America. It breeds in winter and early spring, 
 nesting in hollow trees and crevices of rocks, and is said 
 to build also on some large branch, or in the crotch of a 
 tree. Dr. Coues gives an interesting account of two un- 
 fledged ones, which he captured in Dakota, in the month 
 of June. They were his pets for the whole summer, and 
 traveled with him several hundred miles. For a while 
 they had two different notes, the one of hunger or loneli- 
 ness, a querulous, explosive syllable, and the other a harsh 
 cry of anger, or remonstrance, when rudely handled. 
 
 7. They did not begin to hoot until they were about 
 four months old, and then only while at liberty during the 
 night ; for, says he, they became so thoroughly tame that, 
 as their wings grew, enabling them to take short flights, I 
 used to release them in the evening from the tether by 
 which they were confined. They enjoyed the liberty, and 
 eventually would stay away all night, doubtless foraging 
 for themselves, for their natural prey, and returning for 
 shelter behind my tent in the morning. 
 
 8. The little horned owl is the Scops asio, and is vari- 
 ously known as the American screech-owl, the red owl, and 
 the mottled owl. It is but ten inches long, though that is 
 
24:0 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 even two inches longer than its European relative. It 
 ranges through all the Atlantic States, even up to Green- 
 land. Nor is it driven away by the clearing off of the 
 woods ; and now more than ever it seeks to be a winter 
 denizen of the city parks, attracted, doubtless, by the 
 abundance of English sparrows, which afford it food. 
 
 9. This little screech-owl, with its staring eyes and 
 pert, ear-like tufts, has a decidedly cattish look. In truth, 
 it wears a grave, grimalkin cast of countenance, which, in 
 a bird, is quite uncanny and unnatural. A mounted speci- 
 men in my parlor was an object of dread to a little girl 
 visiting us from the city. It availed nothing to tell the 
 child that little Motley would not hurt her, while the un- 
 bird-like little thing would stare at her so. 
 
 10. To the naturalist Scops asio has been a provoking 
 elf. It is to be hoped that the sage-looking little fellow 
 did not scoff behind his gravity at these learned men, or 
 count any of them asinine whom he so misled by his ec- 
 centric freakiness in dress. Coming before a man of science 
 at one time wearing a suit of sober frieze, again appearing 
 in mottled gray, and anon clad gayly in tawny red, how 
 ludicrously easy and inviting was the trick of specie-mak- 
 ing ! Well, that controversy is over now, and to write the 
 strife down as history would be enough to make Motley 
 bristle to his toes. 
 
 THE OWL-CRITIC. 
 
 1. "Wno stuffed that white owl ? " No one spoke in the 
 
 shop ; 
 
 The barber was busy, and he couldn't stop ; 
 The customers, waiting their turns, were all reading 
 The "Daily," the "Herald," the "Post," little heeding 
 
OTHER NEIGHBORS IN THE TREES. 
 
 The young man who blurted out such a blunt question ; 
 Not one raised a head, or even made a suggestion ; 
 And the barber kept on shaving. 
 
 2. " Don't you see, Mister Brown," 
 Cried the youth, with a frown, 
 
 " How wrong the whole thing is, 
 How preposterous each wing is, 
 
 How flattened the head is, how jammed down the neck is 
 In short, the whole owl, what an ignorant wreck 'tis ? 
 I make no apology ; 
 I've learned owl-eology. 
 
 I've passed days and nights in a hundred collections, 
 And can not be blinded to any deflections 
 Arising from unskillful fingers that fail 
 To stuff a bird right, from his beak to his tail. 
 Mister Brown ! Mister Brown ! 
 Do take that bird down, 
 
 Or you'll soon be the laughing-stock all over town ! " 
 And the barber kept on shaving. 
 
 3. " I've studied owls, 
 And other night fowls, 
 And I tell you 
 
 What I know to be true : 
 An owl can not roost 
 With his limbs so unloosed , 
 No owl in this world 
 Ever had his claws curled, 
 Ever had his legs slanted, 
 Ever had his bill canted, 
 Ever had his neck screwed 
 Into that attitude. 
 He can't do it, because 
 
 'Tis against all bird laws. 
 11 
 
242 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 Anatomy teaches, 
 Ornithology preaches, 
 An owl has a toe 
 That can't turn out so ! 
 I've made the white owl my study for years, 
 And to see such a job almost moves me to tears ! 
 Mister Brown, I'm amazed 
 You should be so gone crazed 
 As to put up a bird 
 In that posture absurd ! 
 
 To look at that owl really brings on a dizziness ; 
 The man who stuffed him don't half know his busi 
 ness!" 
 And the barber kept on shaving. 
 
 4. " Examine those eyes. 
 I'm filled with surprise 
 Taxidermists should pass 
 Off on you such poor glass ; 
 So unnatural they seem, 
 They'd make Audubon scream 
 And John Burroughs laugh 
 To encounter such chaff. 
 
 Do take that bird down ; 
 
 Have him stuffed again, Brown ! " 
 
 And the barber kept on shaving. 
 
 5. "With some sawdust and bark 
 I could stuff in the dark 
 
 An owl better than that. 
 
 I could make an old hat 
 
 Look more like an owl 
 
 Than that horrid fowl, 
 
 Stuck up there so stiff like a side of coarse leather. 
 
 In fact, about him there's not one natural feather, " 
 
OTHER NEIGHBORS IN THE TREES. 243 
 
 6. Just then, with a wink and a sly normal lurch, 
 The owl, very gravely, got down from his perch, 
 Walked round, and regarded his fault-finding critic 
 (Who thought he was stuffed) with a glance analytic, 
 And then fairly hooted, as if he should say : 
 " Your learning's at fault this time, anyway ; 
 Don't waste it again on a live bird, I pray. 
 I'm an owl ; you're another. Sir Critic, good day ! " 
 And the barber kept on shaving. 
 
 James T. Fields. 
 
PART X. 
 STRANGE BIRDS AND THEIR WAYS. 
 
 THE FLAMINGO. 
 
 1. THE coasts of Florida, with semi-tropical and nearly 
 uniform climate, are the favorite resorts of many kinds of 
 aquatic birds which are not found in Northern waters. 
 Conspicuous among these are numerous wading birds which 
 have their homes along the lagoons and shallow waters of 
 the bays. Early in the morning, or late in the afternoon, 
 the visitor to the shore is startled by a trumpet-like noise, 
 immediately followed by a whirr of wings, and he sees a 
 flock of large scarlet birds rising in the air and sailing 
 away in the shape of a triangle, after the fashion of wild 
 geese. These are the flamingoes, and the noise was the 
 warning note of the sentinel which is always on the look- 
 out while the rest of the flock are feeding. 
 
 2. They are shy birds, and to obtain a near view they 
 must be approached with great caution. Snugly ensconced 
 in some protecting bush or tree, the observer will see scar- 
 let flashes high in air as the birds steer toward their accus- 
 tomed resort. When they alight, the triangle is straight- 
 ened out into a line, the sentinel takes his place in some 
 commanding position, and the remainder of the flock set 
 about their search for food. At a little distance they ap- 
 pear like scarlet boats, with enormously long bows, floating 
 
STRANGE BIRDS AND THEIR WAYS. 
 
 245 
 
 in the air. A closer inspection, however, reveals two long, 
 slim legs, so entirely disproportionate to the size of the 
 body as to give to the birds the very ludicrous appearance 
 of walking on stilts. 
 
 3. The observer will see also that the flamingo has a 
 small but graceful body, a finely curved and swan-like 
 neck, and, when flying, or wading in the water, it is one of 
 
 Flamingo and Nest. 
 
 the most beautiful of all aquatic birds. It is adapted to 
 wading, swimming, flying, and walking, and it is only on 
 land that it appears awkward and uncomfortable. It helps 
 itself over the ground with its long neck and bill, and its 
 pace while running is very rapid. 
 
 4. They are web-footed, like the swimmers ; not so 
 much, however, to enable them to swim, as to walk over the 
 
246 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 soft mud at the bottom of the water. They eat after the 
 manner of a duck, their food consisting of such small fish as 
 they may catch, and the mollusks, crustaceans, and marine 
 insects which they may turn up in the mud at the bottom. 
 Their bill is so constructed as to sort the material, and to 
 collect the edible portion in the under mandible as in a 
 spoon. Their tongue is thick, of a soft, oily consistence, 
 and is covered with curved spines pointing backward ; it is 
 considered a very delicate morsel for the table. 
 
 5. Flamingoes are not entirely nocturnal birds, but they 
 avoid the glare of the day. They fly low over the water, 
 but high over the land. Their mode of flight is by alter- 
 nately flapping their wings and sailing ; and, in alighting, 
 they generally sail round the place and come down in shal- 
 low water and wade to the shore. The neck of the bird is 
 very flexible, and it presents an exceedingly beautiful ap- 
 pearance as it is bent in graceful curves to preen every 
 part of its plumage. Its clumsy legs, which in flying are 
 drawn to the breast so as to be nearly invisible, are well 
 under control, for it can scratch its head with its toes as 
 well as a canary. 
 
 6. George W. Curtis, in his "Nile Notes of Howadji," 
 gives the following description of a flight of flamingoes 
 which hfc witnessed in Egypt : " As we sat upon a green 
 clump on the high bank of the river, we saw a dark undu- 
 lating mass upon the edge of the fog-bank that was slowly 
 moving northward away. The mass, now evidently a flight 
 of birds, came sweeping southward toward us, high in the 
 blue air, and veering from side to side like a ship in tack- 
 ing. With every sunward sweep their snow-white bodies 
 shone like a shower of most brilliant silver stars. 
 
 7. " There was a graceful, careless order in their flying, 
 and as they turned from side to side the long lines undu- 
 lated in musical motion. I have never seen movements so 
 delicious to the eye as their turning sweep. The long line 
 
STRANGE BIRDS AND THEIR WAYS. 247 
 
 throbbed and palpitated as if an electric sympathy were 
 emitted from the fine points of their wings. There was 
 nothing tumbling or gay in their impression, but an intense 
 feeling of languid life. Their curves and movements were 
 voluptuous. The southern sun flashed not in vain along 
 their snowiness, nor were they without meaning flying to 
 the south. There was no sound but the whirring of innu- 
 merable wings, as they passed high over our heads, a living 
 cloud between us and the sun. Now it was a streaming 
 whiteness in the blue, now it was as mellowly dark, as they 
 turned to or from the sun, and so advanced, the long lines 
 giving and trembling sometimes, like a flapping sail in a 
 falling breeze, then bellying roundly out again as if the 
 wind had risen. 
 
 8. " When they were directly above us, one only note 
 was dropped from some thoughtful flamingo, to call atten- 
 tion to the presence of strangers below. But beyond mus- 
 ket-shot, even if not beyond fear, as they undoubtedly 
 were, the fair company swept on unheeding, a beautiful 
 boon for the south, and laden with what strange tidings 
 from northern woods ! The bodies were rosy white and 
 the wings black, and the character of the flight imparted an 
 air of delicacy and grace to all their movements and associ- 
 ation ; but the pageant soon passed, and the whirr of beau- 
 tiful wings, and the rose-cloud of flamingoes died away 
 deep in the south." 
 
 BIRDS-OF-PARADISE. 
 
 1. THE birds-of -paradise are a small but renowned fam- 
 ily. They received their name from the idea, entertained 
 at one time, that they inhabited the region of the Mosaic 
 paradise. They live in a small locality in Australasia, in- 
 cluding Papua or New Guinea, and a few adjacent islands. 
 
248 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 2. In form and size they somewhat resemble our crow, 
 or blue-jay ; but some are smaller. They are usually in- 
 cluded in the tribe of conebills, though their bills are 
 quite slender for that group, and a little compressed. The 
 bills are covered at the base with downy or velvety feathers, 
 which extend over the nostrils ; their wings are long and 
 round ; the tail consists of ten feathers, two of them, in 
 some species, very long ; legs and feet very long, large, 
 and strong ; outer toe longer than inner, and joined to the 
 middle one toward the base ; hind-toe very long ; claws 
 long and curved. 
 
 3. But they are chiefly remarkable for the wonderful 
 development of various parts of their plumage, and for the 
 metallic splendor of its rich hues. The sides of the body, 
 and sometimes of the head, neck, breast, or tail, are orna- 
 mented with lengthened, peculiarly developed, and showy 
 feathers. Says Wood : " In all the species, the feathers 
 glow with resplendent radiance ; in nearly all there is some 
 strange and altogether unique arrangement of the plum- 
 age ; and, in many, the feathers are modified into plumes, 
 ribbons, and streamers, that produce the most surprising 
 and lovely effects. " The plumage of the face, breast, and 
 throat is usually the richest in metallic tints, while other 
 parts frequently have very beautiful and brilliant colors. 
 
 4. Their food consists of grasshoppers, butterflies, 
 moths, and other insects ; figs, the berries of various trees 
 and shrubs ; seeds, rice, and other kinds of grain. During 
 the heat of the day they remain concealed in the woods, 
 but in the morning and evening come forth to seek their 
 food. Furious storms frequently bring them to the ground, 
 when they are easily taken by the natives, who also shoot 
 them with blunt arrows, or take them with a noose, like- 
 wise with bird-lime or other glutinous substance, placed 
 on the branches which they frequent. 
 
 5. The greater paradise-bird (Paradisea apoda), fre- 
 
STRANGE BIRDS AND THEIR WAYS. 
 
 249 
 
 queiitly called the 
 Emerald Bird-of- 
 Paradise, is small- 
 er than the crow. 
 Linnaeus gave the 
 specific name apo- 
 da to this bird, 
 which was gener- 
 ally and errone- 
 ously called foot- 
 less, to designate 
 the species, not 
 to perpetuate the 
 error. This bird 
 seeks the thick- 
 est foliage of the 
 loftiest trees, in 
 which to remain 
 concealed during 
 the day. The 
 feathers on the 
 head, throat, and 
 neck are very 
 short and dense. 
 Those round the 
 base of the bill, 
 and on the face, 
 are velvety and 
 black, changing 
 their color to 
 green, as the di- 
 
 Mrd of Paradise. 
 
 rection of the light 
 
 changes ; those on the throat, the front half of the neck, 
 and the upper part of the breast, are of a bright, deep, 
 emerald green ; those on the head, back of the neck, and 
 
250 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 the shoulders, are of a light, golden yellow. The eye is at 
 the common point between these colors. 
 
 6. If lines were drawn from it to the throat, to the 
 forehead, and down the sides of the neck, and curved to a 
 point on the breast, they would indicate very well the lim- 
 its of the colors. The back, wings, tail, and belly are of a 
 bright, reddish chestnut, the breast being a little darker, 
 and inclining to purple. From each side beneath the 
 wings proceed a large number of long, floating, graceful 
 plumes, some eighteen inches in length, of exceeding deli- 
 cacy of texture and appearance. These extend far beyond 
 the tail-feathers, which are about six inches long, and 
 their translucent golden-white vanelets produce a most su- 
 perb effect, as they cross and recross each other, forming 
 every imaginable shade of white, gold, and orange, and 
 then deepening toward their extremities into a soft, pur- 
 plish red. From the upper part of the tail proceed two 
 black shafts or filaments, some eighteen inches long, ap- 
 pearing like small wires, about one sixteenth of an inch in 
 diameter. 
 
 7. They are not easily tamed and kept confined, and 
 few have been brought alive from their native locality. 
 Mr. Beale had one at Macao, China, which had been in 
 captivity nine years. In a description of this bird the 
 writer says: "This elegant creature has a light, playful, 
 and graceful manner, with an arch and impudent look ; 
 dances about when a visitor approaches the cage, and seems 
 delighted at being made an object of admiration. Its notes 
 are very peculiar, resembling the cawing of a raven, but 
 its tones are far more varied. It washes itself regularly 
 twice daily, and, after having performed its ablutions, 
 throws its delicate feathers up nearly over its head, the 
 quills of which feathers have a peculiar structure so as to 
 enable the bird to effect this object. 
 
 8. "Its food, during confinement, is boiled rice, mixed 
 
STRANGE BIRDS AND THEIR WAYS. 251 
 
 up with soft eggs, together with plantains, and living in- 
 sects of the grasshopper tribe ; these insects, when thrown 
 to him, the bird contrives to catch in his beak with great 
 celerity ; but if, through failure to catch them, they should 
 fall to the floor, he will not descend to them, appearing to 
 be fearful that, in so doing, he would soil his delicate 
 plumage. He will eat insects in a living state, but will not 
 touch them when dead. 
 
 9. " One of the best opportunities of seeing this splen- 
 did bird, in all its beauty of actions as well as display of 
 plumage, is early in the morning, when he makes his toi- 
 let ; the beautiful sub-alar plumage is then thrown out and 
 cleaned from any spot that may sully its purity, by being 
 passed gently through the bill ; the short, chocolate-col- 
 ored wings are extended to the utmost, and he keeps them 
 in a steady, flapping motion, as if in imitation of their use 
 in flight, at the same time raising up the delicate, long 
 feathers over the back, which are spread in a chaste and 
 elegant manner, floating like films in the ambient air. 
 
 10. " In this position the bird would remain for a short 
 time, seemingly proud of its heavenly beauty, and in rap- 
 tures of delight with its most enchanting self ; it will then 
 assume various attitudes, so as to regard its plumage in 
 every direction. 
 
 11. " Having completed his toilet, he utters the usual 
 cawing notes, at the same time looking archly at the spec- 
 tators, as if ready to receive all the admiration that it con- 
 siders its elegant form and plumage demand. It then 
 takes exercise by hopping in a rapid but graceful manner 
 from one of the upper perches to the other, and descends 
 suddenly upon the second perch, close to the bars of the 
 cage, looking out for the grasshoppers which it is accus- 
 tomed to receive about this time." 
 
 James H. Partridge. 
 
252 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 TALKING BIRDS AND THEIR WAYS. 
 
 1. NEARLY all the birds that are capable of articulating 
 words belong to the parrot family, which numbers more 
 ttian three hundred species. The common gray and green 
 parrots are too well known to need description. The fam- 
 ily belong to the climbers, but are slow and awkward upon 
 the ground. In climbing they use both beak and claws, 
 and in eating they use one claw to hold the food. The 
 beak is very strong, and capable of great destruction in 
 either offensive or defensive warfare. They are natives of 
 tropical climes, live in pairs, and feed upon soft, pulpy 
 fruits, especially such as have hard kernels or seeds. When 
 wild they are usually seen in large flocks morning and 
 evening, active in procuring food, and exceedingly noisy 
 and quarrelsome. In captivity they are generally capri- 
 cious in temper and mischievous. 
 
 2. Innumerable anecdotes are told of them which go to 
 show that they have not only the ability to speak, but also 
 to attach a definite meaning to the words they utter. A 
 few years since, I was the owner of one which we named 
 "Poll, "to distinguish her from " Polly," our other pet. 
 She had lost her beauty by a scald on the head, and never 
 possessed the winning ways of her companion. She would, 
 indeed, say, when the reason of her bald pate was asked, 
 " I've been scalded " ; and whenever a bald-headed gen- 
 tleman entered the room, she shouted to him, "You've 
 been scalded ! " and then, turning to her friends, and 
 changing her grammar correctly, would cry out, to our 
 infinite annoyance, "He's been scalded!" She could 
 cry, "Hip, hip, hurrah! three cheers for the queen!" 
 could sing and dance to the tune of "Polly, put the ket- 
 tle on, we'll all have tea" ; and would ask very peremp- 
 
STRANGE BIRDS AND THEIR WAYS. 253 
 
 torily for her meals, "Thomas, fetch my dinner Poll's 
 hungry ! " 
 
 3. She had one singular trait : she caught everybody's 
 laugh. I never noticed the peculiarity of laughs in my 
 family till " Poll " began to simulate them. From the 
 feminine giggle to the masculine guffaw from the boister- 
 ous laugh of the children to the titter of the house-maid, 
 catching the gamut of every member of our household, 
 even to the suppressed hiccough of James the footman, 
 whose good English breeding allowed only the slightest 
 demonstration of any sentiment whatever -" Poll " would 
 deliver by the hour a series of idiosyncratic laughs, which, 
 amusing enough at first, made her imitations at last an in- 
 tolerable nuisance. When she once began her cachinna- 
 tions, nothing would stop her. Indeed, when attacked by 
 a gout that ended her life, her very last breath shaped itself 
 into a giggle, so true to its original that to those who stood 
 around her cage, mourning over her death-agonies, it was 
 irresistibly ludicrous. Laughing herself, she died in the 
 very odor of laughter. 
 
 4. They tell a good story in Newgate Street, London, 
 of a parrot or of two parrots rather, a gray and a green 
 one belonging to Morley, a tradesman in the Old Bailey, 
 just opposite the prison, which is vouched for as true in 
 the strictest sense. The man had a wonderful "bird- 
 sense," and his power of training birds became famous 
 throughout the metropolis. He had taught his green par- 
 rot to speak whenever a knock was heard at his street- 
 door ; but when the bell of the same door was rung, he 
 had taught the gray parrot to answer. The house, still 
 standing, has one of those projecting porches that prevent 
 the second story from being seen from the pavement; One 
 day a person knocked. " Who is there ? " asked the green 
 parrot. " The man with the leather," was the reply. The 
 bird answered, "All right ! " and then became silent. After 
 
254 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 waiting some time, and not finding the door opened, the 
 man knocked again. "Who is there?" again asked the 
 green parrot. " Who's there?" cried the porter outside. 
 " It's I, the man with the leather ; why don't you open the 
 door ?" "All right ! " repeated the parrot, which so en- 
 raged the man that he furiously rang the bell. "Go to 
 the gate ! " shouted a new voice, which proceeded from the 
 gray parrot. " To the gate ! " repeated the man, seeing no 
 gate ; " what gate ?" "Newgate ! Newgate ! " responded 
 the gray parrot. The porter was enraged ; but, stepping 
 across the street, the better to answer what he supposed to 
 be the insolence of the house-maids, he saw that he had 
 been outwitted and teased by a couple of parrots. 
 
 5. This same Morley had been employed by a gentle- 
 man, who had heard of his knowledge of birds, to purchase 
 for him a white cockatoo. The price was of less impor- 
 tance than the health, disposition, and breeding of the bird. 
 She was to use no bad language, be subject to no fits of 
 passion, have been trained to be handled by women and 
 children, and be cleanly in her habits. Morley took great 
 pains to please his employer, and at last sent him home 
 perhaps the most perfect specimen of the breed ever seen 
 in London. As I saw the bird ten years ago, nothing in 
 the way of ornithological beauty could surpass it. Of pure, 
 snowy white from top of crown to tip of tail ; without a 
 speck of lead, gray, or crimson on a single feather ; free 
 from all sign of cross with paroquet or macaw ; and in 
 shape, attitude, bearing, and action, as distinguishable as a 
 blooded horse " Beauty," as she was called, stood unri- 
 valed. 
 
 6. When she was sent home, there was perfect satisfac- 
 tion ; the employer was pleased, as he well might be ; the 
 family of daughters in ecstasies of admiration ; and Morley 
 richly remunerated for his trouble. But the bird would 
 not talk. This was attributed at first to fear, then to 
 
STRANGE BIRDS AND THEIR WAYS. 255 
 
 change of diet, and at last to absolute inability. Of 
 course, there was great disappointment. "Beauty's" cage 
 hung at the dining-room window ; every visitor was in ad- 
 miration of her spotless plumage and faultless shape ; and, 
 of course, everybody sympathized in the disappointment at 
 her irremediable defect. 
 
 7. " What a pity it is she does not talk ! " remarked a 
 person one day at dinner ; " she would be worth her 
 weight in gold." "She almost cost it as it is," said pater- 
 familias. " The creature is a cheat. Fine feathers don't 
 make fine birds, certainly not fine parrots. I paid ten 
 guineas for her, and she can not say one word." "A h, but 
 I think the more ! What's the use of talking, if you have 
 nothing to say ? " came in clear articulate sounds from the 
 cage, to the amazement of family and guests. That settled 
 forever "Beauty's" supremacy. 
 
 8. Whether it is possible to entirely eradicate bad habits 
 in parrots is doubtful. Captain Simpson, well known by 
 transatlantic passengers, used to duck his paroquet in the 
 sea every time it swore an oath. This seemed to cure him 
 of using profane language. The creature really connected 
 an oath with a dowse in the water, and gave up swearing. 
 One day, in a furious storm, a man was washed overboard, 
 and with great difficulty was recovered. As soon as he was 
 drawn on deck, and efforts were being made to resuscitate 
 him, " Polly " kept hopping around the circle, shaking her 
 head from side to side, and saying, gravely, "You've been 
 swearing ! you've been swearing ! " 
 
 9. It is said that macaws are the best talkers of the 
 whole species, providing they are reared from the nest. 
 And not only are they able to talk, but they also sing in a 
 peculiar, soft voice. In sweetness, though not in compass, 
 of musical notes, they are, however, excelled by the grass 
 or green paroquet. While the cockatoo is the hardiest of 
 the parrot tribe, and the most easily tamed, it is, at the 
 
256 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 same time, the most difficult to teach to talk at all well. 
 Its disposition is more gentle, however, and its obedience 
 more implicit, than any of the other species. The gray 
 African parrot, from its docility and aptitude, ranks every- 
 where first as a favorite, though of late years the common 
 green Amazon, from the little attention it requires, and its 
 quick sagacity, is sharing the general favor. 
 
 10. A gentleman residing in Wilmington, Delaware, 
 owns one of these Amazon parrots. It possesses a fluency 
 and variety of language rarely ever equaled by the African 
 gray. As soon as her master returns from the office for 
 dinner, Polly begins to salute him in fondest expressions : 
 " Papa, dear, come and kiss your pretty green beauty ! 
 Come in, come in, papa, and give us a kiss, and a thousand 
 more ! " When the footman enters the room, she says to 
 him, but never to any one else, " Fetch my dinner, James 
 I'm hungry. Stupid fellow ! I can't eat my head off ! " 
 To a bachelor friend, who frequently spends several weeks 
 at the house, Polly has but one question, never put to any 
 one else, " Oh, you gay deceiver, why did you promise to 
 marry me, and didn't ? " To a gentleman, a near neigh- 
 bor, whom she had once overheard saying, at the after- 
 dinner table, " The bird's invaluable ; five hundred dollars 
 would not buy her, if I owned her would it, Polly ? " she 
 always addresses the salute the moment he appears, " Five 
 hundred dollars would not buy Polly, if you owned her ! 
 Five hundred dollars ! Five hundred dollars ! Why, the 
 bird's invaluable ! " 
 
 11. This Wilmington parrot certainly discriminates be- 
 tween the sexes and between conditions in life. To a 
 well-dressed young gentleman the remark is, " What a get- 
 up ! What a swell you are ! " To a young lady, on the 
 contrary, fondling and kissing, she says, with great defer- 
 ence, " Is she not nice ? so nice ! " Whereas to a clergy- 
 man, who is detected by his dress, she is exceedingly 
 
STRANGE BIRDS AND THEIR WATS. 
 
 offensive, perpetually calling out, " Let us pray ! " " Glory 
 be to God ! " " Amen ! " She was once lost, stayed out 
 over night, and grief and searches ruled the disconsolate 
 household. At daybreak, however, a workman, going to 
 his job, was hailed by Polly, from a pile of bricks, with 
 the call, " Take me home ! Take me home ! " Whether 
 the night-chilled bird did or did not attach meaning to the 
 words, it is certain that the workman did, and that he 
 made a good thing of bringing her home. I know of no 
 
 gray parrot that has excelled this. 
 
 N. S. Dodge. 
 
 THE APTERYX. 
 
 1. ONE of the contributions which New Zealand has 
 made to the list of queer animal forms is that of the ap- 
 teryx. The name implies that it is a wingless bird, though 
 when stripped of its covering minute rudimentary wings 
 are discovered. This bird is another survival of the old 
 geologic forms, of which the southern hemisphere has fur- 
 nished so many specimens. In size the different species 
 vary from that of a moderately-sized hen to that of a large 
 turkey. It is covered with curious feathers, which are very 
 narrow, and taper to a point at their upper extremity, giving 
 to the bird the general appearance of a hedgehog. The 
 covering seems to be a cross between feathers, hair, and 
 hedgehog quills. 
 
 2. The bill of the apteryx is long and slender, and the 
 legs are large and strong, each terminating in sharp and 
 formidable claws. It thus possesses the characteristic or- 
 gans of both scratching and wading birds, but it is exclu- 
 sively a land bird, and uses its long beak to extract insects 
 and worms from the fallen leaves and decayed wood in the 
 forests. As it has no occasion to fly or to swim, its tail is 
 
258 
 
 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 in the same rudimentary condition as its wings. It is 
 called by the natives kiwi-kiwi, from its peculiar cry. Its 
 nests are made either at the base of a hollow tree or in 
 deep holes which it excavates in the ground. When at- 
 tacked, it defends itself vigorously with its strong feet. 
 
 The Apteryx. 
 
 3. Mr. Wood, the naturalist, thus describes this bird : 
 " The skin is tough and flexible, and the chiefs set great 
 value upon it for the manufacture of their state mantles, 
 permitting no inferior person to wear them, and being ex- 
 tremely unwilling to part with them even for a valuable 
 consideration. The bird lives mostly among the fern ; and, 
 as it always remains concealed during the day in deep re- 
 cesses of rocks, ground, or tree-roots, and is remarkably 
 
STRANGE BIRDS AND THEIR WATS. 259 
 
 fleet of foot, diving among the heavy fern-leaves with sin- 
 gular adroitness, it is not very easy of capture. It feeds 
 upon insects of various kinds, more especially on worms, 
 which it is said to attract to the surface by jumping and 
 striking on the ground with its powerful feet. The natives 
 always hunt the kiwi-kiwi at night, taking with them 
 torches and spears. The speed of this bird is very consid- 
 erable, and when running it sets its head rather back, raises 
 its neck, and plies its legs with a vigor little inferior to 
 that of the ostrich. 
 
 4. " The fine specimen in the Zoological Gardens of 
 London has already proved a very valuable bird, as she has 
 laid several eggs, thereby setting at rest some disputed 
 questions on the subject, and well illustrates the natural 
 habits of the species. 
 
 5. " Upon her box is placed, under a glass shade, the 
 shell of one of her eggs. These eggs are indeed wonderful, 
 for the bird weighs a little more than four pounds, and 
 each egg weighs between fourteen and fifteen ounces, its 
 length being four and three quarter inches and its width 
 rather more than two inches, thus being very nearly one 
 fourth of the weight of the parent-bird. This, next to that 
 of the ostrich, is the largest egg known. 
 
 6. " The long, curved beak of the apteryx has the nos- 
 trils very narrow, very small, and set on at each side of the 
 tip, so that the bird is enabled to pry out the worms and 
 other nocturnal creatures on which it feeds, not trusting 
 merely to the eyes. The general color of the apteryx is 
 chestnut-brown, each feather being tipped with a darker 
 hue, and the under parts are lighter than the upper." 
 
260 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 THE STORK. 
 
 1. THE stork appears most at home in the low lands of 
 Holland, and by the people of that country he is held more 
 sacred than anywhere else. In the landscapes of the old 
 Dutch painters he forms an almost typical accessory ; in 
 every village, and in most towns even, he is at home ; and 
 in the Hague a house has been built in the middle of the 
 market-place on purpose for him. He is of noble extrac- 
 tion, of high birth, as the nursery rhyme says, for his im- 
 posing nest is reared on roofs and gables. A pollard tree 
 in the neighborhood of a house or village serves him often 
 for a domicile ; an ash, a maple, or an oak, for an elevated 
 throne, is absolutely necessary for him, in order that he 
 may have an extended view over his territory of meadows, 
 fields, and morass. 
 
 2. When with the first warm March breeze the stork 
 returns to his village, there is great rejoicing. He is 
 greeted with song and exclamation, as one welcome back, 
 as a faithful, long-missed friend. The old people in the 
 village know him as the contemporary of their youth ; 
 and to the children, whose friend pre-eminently he is, he 
 brings the assurance and the pledge that spring, for which 
 they have so impatiently longed, is come. He has, so to 
 say, signed Spring's passport with his visb; there is no 
 longer any doubt of his arrival. 
 
 3. His very figure, how characteristic and significant ! 
 On a high wooden leg, which seems stuck into a red Kus- 
 sia-leather boot, is balanced his stately body, over which 
 he has thrown his white traveling cloak, turned up with 
 black. His tail is short and obtuse ; all the more slender 
 and elongated is his neck, which carries the peculiarly ex- 
 pressive head with a tranquil dignity. The plumage lies 
 
STRANGE BIRDS AND THEIR WATS. 
 
 261 
 
 close on the smooth forehead, like hair neatly combed 
 back ; the brown eye twinkles with clear, honest expression, 
 in which, however, there is a touch of roguery, from out the 
 black rings of the mark not unlike spectacles. The visor 
 terminates very comically in a long, grotesque beak-nose, 
 
 The Stork, 
 
 which, be it observed, is a weapon also to insure respect. 
 In gait, demeanor, manner, a pedantic pathos is expressed, 
 reminding us of hoops and hair-powder, rapiers, high- 
 heeled shoes, and minuets. The stork is indeed an old- 
 fashioned figure, seemingly most in keeping with the slow 
 paced burghers of his beloved Holland. 
 
262 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 4. Wrapped in thoughtful silence, he stalks, like Myn- 
 heer, stiff and full of gravity, through his drains and mea- 
 dows. At every step, he lifts with measured cadence the 
 long, stocking-covered leg, as if to guard it from possible 
 contamination ; while head and neck, in a continual tick- 
 tack, nod backward and forward in comical solemnity. 
 Thus, with ceremonious carriage, consort and spouse move 
 along, like peripatetic philosophers, until one or the other 
 perceives the fat, sprawling croaker in the thick sedge, and 
 suddenly darts forward the sharp bill, like a harpoon, to 
 impale the unhappy wretch, and bury him in the depths of 
 the gullet. The other stork raises his head and makes a 
 bow and a nourish. 
 
 5. It is an easy, noiseless, and yet assiduous chase ; noth- 
 ing interrupts them, unless it be that a curious observer 
 comes too near them, or something unusual happens. Then 
 they stand still ; one leg is drawn up close to the body and 
 lays hold of the other, thus to give greater firmness to the 
 contemplative position ; the neck is stretched inquiringly 
 upward, and the eye is fixed on the object of alarm. In 
 this attitude, which, odd as it is, never sacrifices aught of 
 its grandezza, they will remain some minutes immovable, 
 and with all the gravity of an automaton, until persuaded 
 they may range further in safety, or that it would be wiser 
 to take flight. 
 
 6. The large body rises with difficulty ; and it is comic 
 enough to see the worthy master of ceremonies brought so 
 completely out of his equilibrium. He makes a few awk- 
 ward jumps, then follow some heavy flaps of the wings, and 
 the feet are stretched out like oars behind ; but yet the 
 reeling mass rises scarcely above the ground. Suddenly, 
 with a jerk, as though it had thrown away the tardy 
 crutch, the phlegmatic walker on stilts mounts high in 
 the ocean of air; and now, in grandest rounds and soar- 
 ings, he displays to our astonished gaze the spectacle of his 
 
STRANGE BIRDS AND THEIR WATS. 263 
 
 majestic flight. He will often float a long distance with- 
 out a movement of the wings, as though supported by his 
 own weight, gliding downward at last in spiral lines to the 
 nest, where the hungry brood, in a clappering tongue, give 
 vent to their joy. 
 
 7. As among the wandering shepherd tribes of the 
 Steppes the chief precedes his family to look for new pas- 
 tures, then returns to lead them thither, so does the male 
 stork appear along the German rivers and the North Sea, 
 one or two weeks before the female, in order to reconnoiter ; 
 and when he has again found the old moss-covered house- 
 ridge with the empty nest ; when he sees the fountain in 
 the court-yard, with the wide-spreading trees beside it, and 
 has cast a look over the country, he suddenly disappears, to 
 return soon after with his spouse ; and then, with courtly 
 obeisances and merry clapperings, introducing her as mis- 
 tress, sets about repairing the old house or building a new 
 one. Possession is thus taken ; the stork arranges his 
 household, and paternal cares now occupy his attention. 
 
 8. Except some quarrels with his kind, growing out of 
 jealousy, the stork is a most peaceable and tolerant charac- 
 ter, and, just as around the baronial castle swarms of poor 
 retainers settle and seek protection, so does he allow the 
 sparrow and swallow to take up their abode beneath the 
 protecting, spray-built cupola of his house. He, however, 
 stands like an emir, in grave composure, above the noisy 
 rabble, without allowing their boldest trieks to mislead or 
 anger him. Indeed, the stork, above all other birds, has a 
 feeling for home and love for domestic life. He is a watch- 
 ful household chief, showing as much tenderness for his 
 progeny as filial gratitude to parents and benefactors. 
 
 9. On this account the stork has at all times been re- 
 garded as "a bird of piety," and set up as a pattern of do- 
 mestic virtue. Thus, it is said, he will carry his young 
 upon his back when teaching them to fly, or to save them 
 
264: NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 when the nest is threatened with fire ; whence, as some sup- 
 pose, he acquired the old German name of Adeboar, which 
 literally means " luck-bringer," he being good, bringing 
 good with him. One thing must not be forgotten, that 
 the stork extends his love of offspring to human little ones, 
 and that these reciprocate his love with kindness and atten- 
 tion. 
 
 10. Cleanliness, too, is a fundamental law of his house- 
 hold economy; it is a part, so to speak, of the natural 
 character of the stork, and is, indeed, the more necessary, 
 as on his white dress every impurity would show itself most 
 conspicuously. The bill supplies the place of brush and 
 comb ; and on the coat, the breast-facings, and stockings 
 there is always a something to smooth down and order. 
 Nor is all this a mere show of cleanliness ; he would not 
 be satisfied with having a clean shirt-front merely, and he 
 bathes frequently. 
 
 11. The stork, it is clear, reveals a relationship between 
 his mode of being and action and that of man ; and hence 
 he attaches himself to man, and man to him. Careless 
 and confiding he walks about the court and garden of the 
 farmer ; in seaport towns, even, he stalks on amid all the 
 bustle of the streets, and expects every one whom he 
 meets to make way for him ; he wanders from market to 
 market, from fountain to fountain, examines boldly here a 
 basket and there a dish ; in short, he feels himself at home. 
 Despite all familiarity, he knows how to make himself re- 
 spected ; and he maintains not only his perfect freedom, 
 but even a sort of superiority. 
 
 12. When, in the height of summer, the meadows are 
 parched and ponds and morasses are dried up, the stork re- 
 sorts to the interior of the woods, with their glades, brooks, 
 and marshes ; and when, in the beginning of autumn, the 
 inferior animals retire into their holes and winter abodes, 
 vast numbers, all travel - equipped, collect together and 
 
STRANGE BIRDS AND THEIR WAYS. 265 
 
 cruise about in the air, preparing for emigration to the 
 South. When all is ready, they depart suddenly in well- 
 ordered ranks ; but as these quickly rise to the highest re- 
 gions of air, they are soon lost to sight. 
 
 13. In uninterrupted flight, and sometimes in flocks of 
 two or three thousand, these Europe-sick birds direct their 
 course to the Egyptian coast. Here is the stork's second 
 home. Here, in the lowlands of the Delta, abounding in 
 frogs and snakes, he rules as a sort of pacha, as familiar 
 and sacred an object to the brown child of the fellah as to 
 the fair-haired boy of the dweller among the dikes ; and 
 verily the strange bird, with his gravity and seriousness, 
 accords well with that land of singularity and gloom. Yet 
 even beneath the palms and the pyramids he does not for- 
 get the German village and its lime-trees ; and when the 
 glowing heat of advancing summer shines down from the 
 brazen sky of Egypt, he returns again to his home amid 
 the reviving verdure of our northern climate. 
 
 Hermann Masius. 
 
 THREE VIEWS OF THE EAGLE. 
 
 1. THE eagle is a well-known bird of prey, the larg- 
 est and most powerful of all the birds that fly except the 
 condor of the Andes. Its nests are usually built in the 
 top of a lofty tree, in the midst of an inaccessible swamp 
 or on the summit of some rocky peak. Its favorite 
 home is on the high cliffs which border the ocean, or ex- 
 tend along the rapids of a river. From its lofty eyrie it 
 watches life below, and majestically sails out into the upper 
 air. With the keenest vision, it sees the small birjjs and 
 animals afar off, and, pouncing down with a dread swoop, it 
 
 seizes them in its terrible taions and bears them away to its 
 12 
 
266 
 
 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 nest. Squirrels, rabbits, and all kinds of swimming and 
 wading birds fall a prey to its voracity. It frequently seizes 
 young lambs from the flock, and several instances are on 
 record where it has snatched a baby left for a moment by 
 its mother and carried it away to its inaccessible home. 
 
 The Eagle. 
 
 2. -When live food can not be obtained, it does not dis- 
 dain to feed upon dead bodies. It will attack larger ani- 
 mals that have been disabled, aiming furiously at their eyes. 
 
STRANGE BIRDS AND THEIR WAYS. 267 
 
 Withal it is a determined freebooter, robbing other birds of 
 their prey. The character ascribed to the eagle differs 
 with the different stand-points of its observers. It has 
 strength, keenness of sight, and a majestic poise while on 
 the wing. It is self-reliant, and shows great attachment 
 for its young, and exhibits great courage in their defense. 
 All these qualities and characteristics take hold of the im- 
 agination, and give to the bird its ideal character. Viewed 
 from the stand-point of fair play and morality, however, 
 the eagle makes about as poor a show as the great Napoleon 
 when judged by a similar standard. 
 
 3. We will hear first from the great ornithologist, Alex- 
 ander Wilson, whose life was devoted to the observation of 
 birds. In describing the eagle, he says : "Elevated on the 
 high, dead limb of some gigantic tree, that commands a 
 wide view of the neighboring shore and ocean, he seems 
 calmly to contemplate the motions of the various feathered 
 tribes that pursue their busy vocations below ; the snow- 
 white gulls slowly winnowing the air ; the busy tringae cours- 
 ing along the sands ; trains of ducks streaming over the 
 surface ; silent and watchful cranes, intent and wading ; 
 clamorous crows, and all the winged multitudes that subsist 
 by the bounty of this vast liquid magazine of Nature. High 
 over all these hovers one whose action instantly arrests all 
 his attention. By the wide curvature of wing, and sudden 
 suspension in air, he knows it to be the fish-hawk, settling 
 over some devoted victim of the deep. His eye kindles at 
 the sight, and, balancing himself with half-opened wings 
 on the branch, he watches the result. Down, rapid as an 
 arrow from heaven, descends the distant object of his atten- 
 tion ; the roar of its wings reaches the ear as it disappears 
 in the deep, making the surges foam around. 
 
 4. "At this moment the eager looks of the eagle are all 
 ardor, and, leveling his neck for flight, he sees the fish- 
 hawk once more emerge, struggling with its prey, and 
 
268 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 mounting in the air with screams of exultation. These are 
 the signal for the eagle, who, launching into the air, in- 
 stantly gives chase and soon gains on the fish-hawk ; each 
 exerts his utmost to mount above the other, displaying in 
 these rencontres the most elegant and sublime aerial evolu- 
 tions. The unincumbered eagle rapidly advances, and is 
 just on the point of reaching his opponent, when, with a 
 sudden scream, probably of despair and honest execra- 
 tion, the latter drops his fish. The eagle, poising himself 
 for a moment, as if to take a more certain aim, descends 
 like a whirlwind, snatches it in his grasp ere it reaches the 
 water, and bears his ill-gotten booty silently away to the 
 woods." 
 
 5. We will next hear from the poet Alfred B. Street. 
 It will be seen that here the hawk is represented as the 
 robber, while the eagle redresses the wrong and avenges 
 the outrages perpetrated upon the poor kingfisher. To be 
 sure, he secures the prey in the end, but we must not 
 expect from a poet a too close scrutiny into motives. 
 6. "With storm-daring pinion and sun-gazing eye, 
 The gray forest eagle is king of the sky ! 
 Oh, little he loves the green valley of flowers, 
 Where sunshine and song cheer the bright summer 
 
 hours, 
 
 For he hears in those haunts only music, and sees 
 Only rippling of waters and waving of trees ; 
 There the red robin warbles, the honey-bee hums, 
 The timid quail whistles, the sly partridge drums ; 
 And if those proud pinions, perchance, sweep along, 
 There's a shrouding of plumage, a hushing of song ; 
 The sunlight falls stilly on leaf and on moss, 
 And there's naught but his shadow black gliding across ; 
 But the dark, gloomy gorge, where down plunges the 
 
 foam 
 Of the fierce rock-lashed torrent, he claims as his home : 
 
STRANGE BIRDS AND THEIR WAYS. 269 
 
 There he blends his keen shriek with the roar of the 
 
 flood, 
 
 And the many-voiced sounds of the blast-smitten wood. 
 7. " From the crag-grasping fir- top, where morn hangs its 
 
 wreath, 
 
 He views the mad waters white writhing beneath. 
 On a limb of that moss-bearded hemlock far down, 
 With bright azure mantle and gay mottled crown, 
 The kingfisher watches, while o'er him his foe, 
 The fierce hawk, sails circling, each moment more low : 
 Now poised are those pinions and pointed that beak, 
 His dread swoop is ready, when hark ! with a shriek 
 His eye-balls red blazing, high bristling his crest, 
 His snake-like neck arched, talons drawn to his breast, 
 "With the rush of the wind-gust, the glancing of light, 
 The gray forest eagle shoots down in his flight ; 
 One blow of those talons, one plunge of that neck, 
 The strong hawk hangs lifeless, a blood-dripping wreck : 
 And as dives the freed kingfisher, dart-like on high 
 With his prey soars the eagle, and melts in the sky." 
 8. Lastly we will get the opinion of the shrewd and 
 genial old philosopher, Benjamin Franklin. His remarks 
 were made when called upon to examine a medal which 
 had been struck oft' for the Cincinnati, a society formed ex- 
 clusively of officers who had served in the revolutionary 
 armies. This medal had been criticised in its execution. 
 He says : "To me it seems tolerably done ; but all such 
 things are criticised. Some find fault with the Latin, as 
 wanting classical elegance and correctness ; and since our 
 nine universities were not able to furnish better Latin, it 
 was a pity, they say, that the mottoes had not been in 
 English. Others object to the title, as not properly as- 
 sumable by any but General Washington and a few others 
 who served without pay. Others object to the bald eagle, 
 as looking like a turkey. 
 
270 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 9. "For my own part, I wish the bald eagle had not been 
 chosen as the representative of our country ; he is a bird of 
 bad moral character ; he does not get his living honestly. 
 You may have seen him perched on some dead tree, where, 
 too lazy to fish for himself, he watches the labor of the 
 fishing-hawk ; and when that diligent bird has at length 
 taken a fish, and is bearing it to his nest for the support of 
 his mate and young ones, the bald eagle pursues him and 
 takes it from him. With all this injustice he is never in 
 good case, but, like those among men who live by sharping 
 and robbing, he is generally poor, and often very lousy. 
 
 10. "Besides, he is a rank coward ; the little king-bird, 
 not bigger than a sparrow, attacks him boldly, and drives 
 him out of the district. He is, therefore, by no means a 
 proper emblem for the brave and honest Cincinnati of 
 America, who have driven all the king-birds from our 
 country, though exactly fit for that order of knights which 
 the French call chevaliers d'industrie. I am, on this 
 account, not displeased that the figure is not known as a 
 bald eagle, but looks more like a turkey. For, in truth, 
 the turkey is, in comparison, a much more respectable bird, 
 and withal a true original native of America. Eagles have 
 been found in all countries, but the turkey was peculiar to 
 ours. 
 
 11. "He is, besides (though a little vain and silly, 'tis 
 true, but not the worse emblem for that), a bird of cour- 
 age, and would not hesitate to attack a grenadier of the 
 British Guards, who should presume to invade his farm- 
 yard with a red coat on." 
 
PART XI. 
 OUR FOUR-FOOTED COMPANIONS. 
 
 THE PET OF THE HOUSEHOLD. 
 
 1. WEBSTER, in an early edition of his dictionary, goes 
 out of his way to abuse the creature, and even makes him- 
 self little less than slanderous. " The domestic cat," he 
 says, " is a deceitful animal, and, when enraged, extremely 
 spiteful. It is kept in houses chiefly for the purpose of 
 catching rats and mice." 
 
 2. Would a dog have done worse ? In all the sixty 
 thousand words of the English language, which, of course, 
 the great lexicographer knew by heart, could he not find a 
 couple of dozen that would have been more applicable, or 
 at least more charitable ? If he had been born as weak as 
 pussy, and had found it as hard to escape kicks and pick 
 up a living, might he not have grown up a bit of a diplo- 
 matist ? I should like to know, also, whether he was not 
 himself subject to be " extremely spiteful when enraged." 
 
 3. Then, too, " kept in houses chiefly for the purpose 
 of catching rats and mice " ! No account taken of the 
 gamesome ways of kittens ; of the pleasure derivable from 
 the grateful purr, the gracious movements, the furry ca- 
 resses ; of the affection which man, woman, and child have 
 lavished upon the most pettable of all pets. It is enough to 
 
272 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 make one reject Webster's derivations, and throw overboard 
 his new orthographies. 
 
 4. As a member of the living household which man has 
 pleased himself in collecting, the cat is useful but not slav- 
 ish. The bargain which he struck with us was not submis- 
 sion, as was the case with the dog, but alliance. "House 
 me," he said, " smooth my back, give me a bed for my 
 morning naps, and I'll kill your rats and purr to you."' 
 What right have we to demand slavishness ? We are too 
 ready to suppose that everything was made for man. Per- 
 haps the feline intellect and sense of justice have reached 
 the conclusion that cats were made for themselves. Have 
 they not a right to be as egotistic as we ? 
 
 5. It is estimated that the rats and mice of England 
 annually consume grain enough to feed three millions of 
 human beings ; and if it were not for the incessant exertions 
 of the cats, these rodents might root out the present popu- 
 lation of the island, as the Saxons rooted out the Celtic 
 Britons. Add to this salvation the innocent and home-like 
 pleasure furnished ; the amusing pranks of say one hun- 
 dred thousand kittens ; the multitudinous purrings and 
 rubbings, and grave trickeries and expositions of instinct ; 
 the old ladies and invalids and lonesome ones whose lives 
 are cheered ; the children who are provided with a living 
 doll. True, some birds suffer ; but may there not be birds 
 enough for all ? On the whole, there must be a large bal- 
 ance due the cats. 
 
 6. In spite of slanders to the contrary, the animal is 
 capable of affection for persons. I had one that used to 
 walk up and down the room with me ; another that ran 
 about after me all over the house. A third, after a separa- 
 tion of five months, greeted me with extravagant demon- 
 strations of joy, leaping into my lap, down again, up again, 
 rolling over, tremulous from head to foot, and all the 
 while purring to split his throat. A cat belonging to a 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED COMPANIONS. 273 
 
 lady who died some years since was one of the most pa- 
 thetic of mourners, insisting with affectionate persistence 
 upon sitting by the body, wailing as if his heart would 
 break, and remaining for a long time inconsolable. In- 
 stances of this sort are by no means uncommon. 
 
 7. It is true that, in general, the cat is fonder of places 
 than of people. He likes the old home because he knows 
 it thoroughly ; because he has investigated its every mouse- 
 hole and studied the advantages of its every retreat from 
 dogs and other enemies ; because he, a weak animal, feels 
 sure that he can there feed and protect himself. More- 
 over, his bump of locality is prodigious, as is shown by the 
 ease with which he finds his way back to the familiar 
 spot, though carried blindfold a long distance from it. A 
 friend of mine transported a cat several times five miles 
 from home, and dismissed it into the wide liberty of earth, 
 only to find it at his house when he returned, or very shortly 
 afterward. 
 
 8. Do cats have intellect ? Observe the patient intelli- 
 gence with which he performs his special duty of watching 
 for prey. He loves ease and warmth ; but he will sit for 
 hours in the cold beside a mouse-hole ; and before he 
 commenced his siege he had examined the whole room, to 
 see if there was any other exit for the vermin ; he had ef- 
 fected a reconnoissance which would have done credit to a 
 Mohawk scalp-hunter or an experienced general. During 
 the last summer my two youthful cats accomplished such a 
 slaughter of birds as made my heart ache, bringing in 
 one or two nearly every day. Now it must require no 
 little reflection, caution, and adroitness to enable an ani- 
 mal who has merely legs to catch one who has both legs 
 and wings. If the reader doubts, let him try it, and, 
 though he take a bag of salt with him, I wager that he 
 does not bring home a robin. It was amusing to ob- 
 serve the plaintive mew of annoyance with which my 
 
274 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 hunters watched a bird who was obviously beyond their 
 reach. 
 
 9. Champfleury tells us of a cat who used to divide 
 her game between her master and her kittens, only she 
 always brought her rats to the former and her mice to 
 the latter, judging that the larger creature needed and 
 could manage the bigger mouthfuls. My Maltese opens 
 a door which is ajar most judiciously ; he does not put 
 nose or foot into the opening, knowing that the former 
 might get banged and the latter pinched ; he places one 
 paw against the obstacle, braces himself side wise on the 
 other three legs, and so pushes ; the operation is admi- 
 rable for caution and for calculation of the needed power. 
 
 10. In Greenville, South Carolina, I had the honor 
 of knowing a magnificent torn, weighing eight pounds, 
 who opened doors by leaping up, seizing the knob forci- 
 bly between his fore-paws, and turning it, his only de- 
 fect in the matter being that he could not close the door 
 after him. Some years ago a family residing in New 
 Haven, Connecticut, was alarmed by what the servants 
 supposed to be a ghost, and the lady of the house a 
 thief. An outside door was repeatedly opened, no one 
 entering but the cat. In spite of watching, nobody was 
 discovered, and the mystery grew to be frightful. At 
 last the ghost was caught, and it proved to be pussy. She 
 had observed, she had reflected, she had drawn an infer- 
 ence ; in other words, she had performed the distinct in- 
 tellectual operations. The result was, that she knew how 
 to open doors by leaping up to the latch and pressing 
 her paw on the thumb-piece. 
 
 11. Champfleury relates another story which shows the 
 feline power of observation and reasoning. A German 
 baron had noticed that his cat was much interested in the 
 mysteries of mirrors, looking at her own reflection in them, 
 withdrawing, approaching, and scratching at the frames. 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED COMPANIONS. 2T5 
 
 His mirrors being all set in pieces of furniture, and an ob- 
 stacle being thereby put in the way of the animal's investi- 
 gations, he bought for her especial use a toilet-glass, and 
 placed it in the middle of the room. Pussy discovered it, 
 walked up to it, and thus assured herself that it resembled 
 the others. Next she rushed behind it repeatedly, each 
 time running faster than before. Not catching a cat in 
 this manner, she went to the edge of the mirror, and looked 
 first along the rear and then along the front. 
 
 12. Her conclusion evidently was that, as this strange 
 creature which she had seen was neither before the glass 
 nor behind it, it must be inside. Sitting up on her hind 
 legs, she stretched out her fore paws, and carefully felt the 
 thickness of the plate, until she had satisfied herself that it 
 was too thin to contain anything of the bigness of the cat. 
 This fact established in her mind, she seemed to come to 
 the decision that here was a phenomenon which was be- 
 yond the circle of her ideas, and which it was therefore 
 useless for her to investigate ; and, giving it up with a 
 common-sense promptness worthy of the imitation of many 
 human philosophers who have got beyond their depth, she 
 walked away from the mirror, and never after was seen to 
 
 look into one. ^ W. De Forest. 
 
 OUR CANINE SERVANTS. 
 
 1. AMONG all the lower animals, the dog has ever been 
 considered the most genuine friend and faithful servant of 
 man. Bred in the household and fed from the family 
 table, he has apparently absorbed many human attributes, 
 and in his domesticated state he is more widely different 
 from his wild progenitors than any other animal. He has 
 shown himself capable of instruction in a very remarkable 
 degree, and the instruction of one generation has been 
 
276 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 transmitted to the next in the form of inherited tendencies, 
 until we have breeds of dogs differing from each other in 
 appearance, temper, and habits to such an extent as to 
 make it seem impossible that they could have had a com- 
 mon origin. 
 
 2. The intelligence displayed by dogs in the accom- 
 plishment of their purposes, and often in adapting means 
 to ends in a new emergency, appears to differ from human 
 reason in degree rather than in kind. The intellectual 
 manifestations, however, are not very wide in their scope, 
 and are mostly confined to the field of activity which dis- 
 tinguishes the breed. When the idea derived from inher- 
 itance takes full possession of them, for the time being it 
 seems that nothing can divert them from the movements 
 which this idea prompts. A hunting-dog on the track of 
 game can not be turned aside, and, though usually quickly 
 obedient to his master's voice, he now seems entirely ob- 
 livious to it, overmastered by the mighty instinct derived 
 from his long line of ancestry. The shepherd's dog will 
 not desert his charge even to get food to save him from 
 starvation. 
 
 3. The dog's peculiar intellectual development, how- 
 ever, appears to be entirely of human origin. The primal 
 instinct which led him to seek his food by hunting has been 
 so modified by human training as to almost lose its origi- 
 nal character, and in its place we find the diversified char- 
 acteristics which now mark the species. Dogs left to 
 themselves could not have developed in these various ways, 
 human companionship and direction being necessary factors 
 in the result. 
 
 4. In other ways the dog has shown a great superiority, 
 over the whole brute creation, and these are in affection 
 for his human associates and in faithfulness to their inter- 
 ests. While dogs show great fondness for each other, the 
 depth of their emotion is shown only toward their masters 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED COMPANIONS. 277 
 
 and human friends. At times they seem to almost lose their 
 animal propensities, and to be transformed into living em- 
 bodiments of virtues which are usually considered essen- 
 tially human. Thus, they show gratitude for favors re- 
 ceived, fidelity to trusts committed to them, a sensitiveness 
 which sometimes appears almost superhuman, and an ab- 
 solute devotion which proves stronger than the love of life. 
 We can here illustrate these points only in a few directions. 
 
 5. All dogs, more or less, are susceptible of being 
 taught, and teachability infers culture of the brain, the 
 possibility of an enlarged intelligence. Without training, 
 a pointer would point at any kind of vermin as readily as 
 at the game of which the sportsman is in quest, but a well- 
 trained pointer will make no such mistake. Without train- 
 ing, he would only stand pointing for a few seconds, and then 
 run in upon the game and put it up ; but a well-trained 
 pointer waits till he receives the word of command, when 
 his master has come near enough to use his gun. 
 
 6. It may be in part through instinct that a shepherd's 
 dog performs many of the important services which he ren- 
 ders to his master in the driving and tending of sheep ; 
 but it can not be altogether through instinct, for the best 
 shepherd's dogs are always those which have been carefully 
 trained. Even that which the shepherd's dog does with- 
 out training, and which seems natural to him from his 
 puppyhood, is probably very much to be ascribed to what 
 is called hereditary instinct, the fruit of the training of 
 many successive generations. But all can not be ascribed 
 to instinct, whether natural to the race, or acquired and 
 become hereditary. How can any one think so who has 
 observed a shepherd's dog at his work, and marked his 
 prompt obedience to the command of his master how 
 readily he understands each word or sign, and at once 
 hastens to do what he is bidden ? perhaps to bring in a 
 number of sheep from a distance, which he accomplishes 
 
278 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 very quickly, and yet without hurrying them too much, 
 for he is very careful not to do them any harm ; and his 
 barking, although sharp, is not angry, nor do the sheep 
 seem to think so, or to be in the least degree alarmed, for 
 they also have profited by experience, and they know him 
 and his ways. 
 
 7. Let the object of the shepherd be to get sheep 
 through a gate : the dog evidently perceives it at once, and 
 knows what to do to bark behind the sheep, to run before 
 them and bark, to drive them to the gate, and to prevent 
 their passing it. More remarkable still, and most decid- 
 edly an evidence of the possession of reason, is the fact that 
 a good shepherd's dog will assist a sheep to rise when it has 
 fallen, rolled over on its back, and can not get up again, 
 because, in consequence of its thick fleece, it can not get a 
 foot to the ground. This often happens, especially on 
 hill-pastures, in the latter part of spring and beginning of 
 summer, before the sheep-shearing time, and the shepherd 
 must visit his flock several times a day, lest the sheep that 
 have rolled over on their backs should die. But his dog 
 saves him much walking and fatigue, scouring over the hill 
 for him, and, as soon as he finds a sheep on its back, pro- 
 ceeding to turn it over with his muzzle, till it gets its feet 
 to the ground so that it is able to rise. 
 
 8. The shepherd's dog, or, at all events, the collie of 
 the south of Scotland, which I take to be the most refined 
 and cultivated breed of shepherd's dog, shows himself also 
 very sensible of affront, and vexed by it. He has a ready 
 appetite for oat-cakes oatmeal in one form or other, but 
 mostly in that of porridge, being a chief part of his food, 
 as it is of his master's ; and he will at any time gladly re- 
 ceive a little bit of oat-cake ; but let any one hold out to 
 him a very large piece, and he evidently thinks it a cruel 
 jest, feels himself insulted, turns away his head, and will 
 not look at the cake, far less accept it. We know of no 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED COMPANIONS. 279 
 
 other kind of dog that so generally shows his fastidious- 
 ness. We have tried the experiment with collies, and al- 
 ways with one result : they would have nothing to do with 
 a very large piece of bread. 
 
 9. No wonder that the sheep-dog is a favorite of his 
 master, and is treated as a kind of humble friend. He is 
 not turned into a kennel nor into an outhouse when he 
 comes home from his work ; his place is at the fireside, 
 where he often wags his tail and puts on a very intelligent 
 look, as if he understood some part of the conversation 
 that takes place. Certainly "Collie" knows well enough 
 when he is spoken of, and dogs of some other kinds evi- 
 dently do so too. They know when they are alluded to in 
 terms of praise and when with blame ; in the former case, 
 giving unmistakable signs of delight ; in the latter, hang- 
 ing their heads and looking ashamed. 
 
 10. It is worthy to be observed concerning the shep- 
 herd's dog that no severity is ever used in his training. 
 The shepherd has no dog- whip. A single punishment, such 
 as a gamekeeper often finds or thinks it necessary to in- 
 flict on a pointer, would spoil a collie altogether and make 
 him worthless for life. He would not resent it by turn- 
 ing savagely on his master, but he would at once become 
 broken-spirited and inert. Words of commendation or of 
 censure are all that he needs, all that suits his nature. 
 The same thing may be observed in animals of some other 
 kinds as in the elephant and in the finest 'breeds of horses. 
 
 11. The fine feelings of the Scottish shepherd's dog, 
 and his capability of having his feelings deeply wounded, 
 are sometimes very strikingly illustrated. The grand- 
 father of the present writer had an excellent collie, by 
 name Wattie, which was a great favorite, and greatly at- 
 tached to him and to all the family. When the dog grew 
 old and feeble, it was thought necessary to get another 
 one ; but, on the new dog's arrival, poor old Wattie left his 
 
280 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 place at the fireside and went out to a green bank beside a 
 pond, where he lay down, and no persuasions could induce 
 him to return to the house. He wagged his tail a little 
 when kindly spoken to, but he continued to lie in the same 
 spot, and would not rise. He refused food, and in two 
 days he was dead. He seems to have felt that his day was 
 over, that his services were no longer valued, and his old 
 place no longer his, and took it all to signify that his time 
 was come to die. His death, however, seems not to have 
 been the result of mere old age, but to have been hastened 
 by his wounded feelings. 
 
 12. The Ettrick shepherd gives the following graphic 
 account of his dog Sirrah : " He was, beyond all compari- 
 son, the best dog I ever saw. He was of a surly, unsocial 
 temper, disdaining all flattery ; he refused to be caressed, 
 but his attentions to my commands and interests will never 
 again, perhaps, be equaled by any of the canine race. 
 When I first saw him a drover was leading him by a rope ; 
 he was both lean and hungry, and far from being a beau- 
 tiful animal, for he was almost all black, and had a grim 
 face, striped with dark brown. The man had bought 
 him of a boy somewhere on the border for three shillings, 
 and had fed him very ill on the journey. I thought I 
 discovered a sort of sullen intelligence in his countenance, 
 notwithstanding his dejected and forlorn appearance. I 
 gave the drover a guinea for him, and I believe there was 
 never a guinea so well laid out, at least I am satisfied I 
 never laid one out to so good a purpose. 
 
 13. " He was scarcely a year old, and knew so little of 
 herding that he had never turned a sheep in his life ; but, 
 as soon as he discovered that it was his duty to do so, and 
 that it obliged me, I can never forget with what anxiety 
 and eagerness he learned his different evolutions. He 
 would try every way deliberately, till he found out what I 
 wanted him to do, and when once I made him understand 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED COMPANIONS. 281 
 
 a direction, he never forgot or mistook it again. Well as 
 I knew him, he often astonished me ; for, when hard pressed 
 in accomplishing the task that he was put to, he had ex- 
 pedients of the moment that bespoke a great share of the 
 reasoning faculty. 
 
 14. "On one occasion about seven hundred lambs, 
 which were under his care at weaning time, broke away at 
 midnight and scampered, in three divisions, across the hills, 
 in spite of all I and my assistant could do to keep them to- 
 gether. The night was so dark that we could not see Sir- 
 rah, but he heard me lament their absence in words which 
 of all others were sure to set him most on the alert, and, 
 without more ado, he silently set off in quest of the rec- 
 reant flock. We spent the whole night in scouring the 
 hills for miles around, but neither of the lambs or Sirrah 
 could we obtain the slightest trace. It was the most ex- 
 traordinary circumstance that ever happened in the annals 
 of pastoral life. At dawn we set out on our return, with the 
 comforting assurance that the whole flock of lambs was lost, 
 and that we did not know what had become of one of them. 
 
 15. "On our way home, however, we discovered a lot 
 of lambs at the bottom of a deep ravine, and the indefati- 
 gable Sirrah, standing in front of them, looking around 
 for some relief, but still true to his charge. The sun was 
 then up, and, when we first came in view, we concluded 
 that it was one of the divisions which Sirrah had been un- 
 able to manage until he came to that commanding situa- 
 tion. But what was our astonishment when we discovered 
 that not one lamb of the whole flock was missing. The 
 charge was left entirely to himself from midnight until the 
 rising sun ; and if all the shepherds in the forest had been 
 there to assist him, they could not have effected it with 
 greater propriety. All that I can say further is that I 
 never felt so grateful to any creature under the sun as I 
 did to my honest Sirrah that morning. 
 
282 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 16. "It is a curious fact in the history of these ani- 
 mals that the most useless of the breed have often the 
 greatest degree of sagacity in trifling and useless matters. 
 An exceedingly good sheep-dog attends to nothing else but 
 that particular branch of business to which he is bred. 
 His whole capacity is exerted and exhausted upon it, and 
 he is of little avail in miscellaneous matters ; whereas a 
 very indiiferent cur, bred about the house and accustomed 
 to assist in everything, will often put the more noble breed 
 to disgrace in these services. If one calls out, for instance, 
 that the cows are in the corn, or the hens are in the gar- 
 den, the house-collie needs no other hint, but runs and 
 turns them out. The shepherd's dog knows not what is 
 astir, and, if he is called out in a hurry for such work, all 
 that he will do is to break to the hill and rear himself up 
 on end to see if no sheep are running away. 
 
 17. "A well-bred sheep-dog, if coming hungry from 
 the hills, and getting into the milk-house, would, most 
 likely, think of nothing else than filling himself with 
 cream. Not so his lowly brother ; he has been bred at home 
 to form higher principles of honor. I have known such to 
 lie, night and day, among from ten to twenty pans full of 
 milk, and never once break the cream of one of them with 
 the tip of his tongue, nor would he suffer cat, rat, or any 
 other creature to touch it. This latter sort, too, are far 
 more acute in taking up what is said in a family." 
 
 18. Sir Walter Scott says : " The wisest dog I ever had 
 was what is called the bull-dog terrier. I taught him to 
 understand a great many words, insomuch that I am posi- 
 tive that the communication between the canine species and 
 ourselves might be greatly enlarged. Camp one day bit 
 the baker who was bringing bread to the family. I beat 
 him, and explained the enormity of his oifense, after 
 which, to the last moment of his life, he never heard the 
 least allusion to the story, in whatever voice or tone it was 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED COMPANIONS. 283 
 
 mentioned, without getting up and retiring into the dark- 
 est corner of the room with the greatest appearance of dis- 
 tress. Then if you said, 'The baker was well paid/ or 
 ' The baker was not hurt after all/ Camp came forth from 
 his hiding-place, capered, and barked and rejoiced." 
 
 Chambers' s Journal. 
 
 CONSCIENCE IN ANIMALS. 
 
 1. ONE of the prevailing theories in regard to con- 
 science is that it is the resultant of intelligence combined 
 with the instinct of sociability and the emotion of sympa- 
 thy, and that its germs may be found in the lower animals. 
 If this be true, we must look for its manifestations in the 
 three groups of dogs, elephants, and monkeys, where alone 
 we find the conditions essential to any considerable devel- 
 opment of the moral sense. 
 
 2. I need not say anything about the intelligence or 
 the sociability of these animals, for it is proverbial that 
 there are no animals so intelligent or more social. It is 
 necessary, however, to say a few words about sympathy. 
 In the case of dogs, sympathy exists in an extraordinary 
 degree. I have myself seen the life of a terrier saved by 
 another dog which staid in the same house with him, and 
 with which he had always lived in a state of bitter enmity. 
 Yet, when the terrier was one day attacked by a large dog, 
 which shook him by the back, and would certainly have 
 killed him, his habitual enemy rushed to the rescue, and, 
 after saving the terrier, had great difficulty in getting away 
 himself. 
 
 3. Dr. Hooker informs me that an elephant, which he 
 was riding in India, became so deeply bogged that he re- 
 mained stuck fast until next day, when he was extracted 
 
284 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 by means of ropes. Under such circumstances elephants 
 seize with their trunks any object, dead or alive, to place 
 under their knees, to prevent their sinking deeper in the 
 mud ; and the driver was dreadfully afraid lest the animal 
 should have seized Dr. Hooker and crushed him to death. 
 But the driver himself, as Dr. Hooker was assured, ran no 
 risk. This forbearance, under an emergency so dreadful 
 for a heavy animal, is a wonderful proof of noble fidelity. 
 
 4. Many cases of sympathy in monkeys might be given, 
 but I shall confine myself to stating one which I myself 
 witnessed at the Zoological Gardens. A year or two ago 
 there was an Arabian baboon and an Anubis baboon con- 
 fined in one cage, adjoining that which contained a dog- 
 headed baboon. The Anubis baboon passed its hand 
 through the wires of the partition in order to purloin a 
 nut which the large dog-headed baboon had left within 
 reach expressly, I believe, that it might act as a bait. 
 The Anubis baboon very well knew the danger he ran, for 
 he waited until his bulky neighbor had turned his back 
 upon the nut with the appearance of having forgotten all 
 about it. The dog-headed baboon, however, was all the 
 time slyly looking round with the corner of his eye, and no 
 sooner was the arm of his victim well within his cage than 
 he sprang with astonishing rapidity and caught the retreat- 
 ing hand in his mouth. The cries of the Anubis baboon 
 quickly brought the keeper to the rescue, when, by dint of 
 a good deal of physical persuasion, the dog-headed baboon 
 was induced to let go his hold. The Anubis baboon then 
 retired to the middle of his cage, moaning piteously, and 
 holding the injured hand against his chest while he rubbed 
 it with the other one. 
 
 5. The Arabian baboon now approached him from the 
 top part of the cage, and, while making a soothing sound, 
 very expressive of sympathy, folded the sufferer in its arms 
 exactlv as a mother would her child under similar cir- 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED COMPANIONS. 285 
 
 cumstances. It must be stated, also, that this expression 
 of sympathy had a decidedly quieting effect upon the suf- 
 ferer, his moans becoming less piteous so soon as he was 
 infolded in the arms of his comforter ; and the manner in 
 which he laid his cheek upon the bosom of his friend was 
 as expressive as anything could be of sympathy appreciated. 
 This really affecting spectacle lasted a considerable time, 
 and, while watching it, I felt that, even had it stood alone, 
 it would in itself have been sufficient to prove the essential 
 identity of some of the noblest among human emotions 
 with those of the lower animals. 
 
 6. I have a setter just now which has been made a pet 
 of since a puppy. As he has a very fine nose, and is at lib- 
 erty to go wherever he pleases, he often finds bits of food 
 which he very well knows he has no right to take. If the 
 food he finds happens to be of a dainty description, his con- 
 scientious scruples are overcome by the temptations of ap- 
 petite ; but if the food should be of a less palatable kind, he 
 generally carries it to me in order to obtain my permission 
 to eat it. Now, as no one ever beats or even scolds this dog 
 for stealing, his only object in thus asking permission to 
 eat what he finds must be that of quieting his conscience. 
 It should be added that when he brings stolen property to 
 me it does not always follow that he is allowed to keep it. 
 
 7. One other curious fact may here be mentioned about 
 this dog. Although naturally a very vivacious animal, 
 and, when out for a walk with myself or any other young 
 person, perpetually ranging about in search of game, yet if 
 taken out for a walk by an elderly person he keeps close 
 to heel all the time pacing along with a slow step and se- 
 date manner, as different as possible from that which is 
 natural to him. This curious behavior is quite spontaneous 
 on his part, and appears to rise from his sense of the re- 
 spect that is due to age. 
 
 8. A terrier I once owned used to be very fond of catch- 
 
286 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 ing flies upon the window-panes, and if ridiculed when un- 
 successful, was evidently much annoyed. On one occasion, 
 in order to see what he would do, I purposely laughed im- 
 moderately every time he failed. It so happened that he 
 did so several times in succession partly, I believe, in con- 
 sequence of my laughing and eventually he became so dis- 
 tressed that he positively pretended to catch the fly, going 
 through all the appropriate actions with his lips and tongue, 
 and afterward rubbing the ground with his neck as if to 
 kill the victim ; he then looked up at me with a triumph- 
 ant air of success. So well was the whole process simu- 
 lated that I should have been quite deceived had I not 
 seen that the fly was still upon the window. Accordingly, 
 I drew his attention to this fact, as well as to the absence of 
 anything upon the floor ; and, when he saw that his hy- 
 pocrisy had been detected, he slunk away under some fur- 
 niture, evidently very much ashamed of himself. 
 
 9. The terrier in question far surpassed any animal I 
 ever knew in the keen sensitiveness of his feelings, and he 
 was never beaten in his life. One day he was shut up in a 
 room by himself while everybody in the house went out. 
 Seeing his friends from the window as they departed, he 
 appears to have been overcome by a paroxysm of rage, for, 
 when I returned, I found that he had torn all the bottom 
 of the window-curtains to shreds. When I first opened 
 the door, he jumped about as dogs do under similar cir- 
 cumstances, having, in his joy to see me, apparently for- 
 gotten the damage he had done. But when, without speak- 
 ing, I picked up one of the torn shreds of the curtains, the 
 terrier gave a howl, and, rushing out of the room, ran up- 
 stairs screaming as loudly as he was able. 
 
 10. It is remarkable, also, that this animal's sensitive- 
 ness was not only of a selfish kind, bat extended itself in 
 sympathy for others. Whenever he saw a man striking a 
 dog, whether in the house or outside, near at hand or at a 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED COMPANIONS. 287 
 
 distance, he used to rush to the protection of his fellow, 
 snarling and snapping in a most threatening way. Again, 
 when driving with me in a dog-cart, he always used to seize 
 the sleeve of my coat every time 1 touched the horse with 
 the whip. 
 
 11. I had had this dog for several years, and had never 
 even in his puppyhood known him to steal. On the 
 contrary, he used to make an excellent guard to protect 
 property from other animals, servants, etc., even though 
 these were his best friends. Nevertheless, on one occasion 
 he was very hungry, and in the room where I was read- 
 ing and he was sitting there was, within easy reach, a 
 savory mutton-chop. I was greatly surprised to see him 
 stealthily remove this chop and take it under a sofa. How- 
 ever, I pretended not to observe what had occurred, and 
 waited to see what would happen next. For fully a quarter 
 of an hour this terrier remained under the sofa without 
 making a sound, but doubtless enduring an agony of con- 
 tending feelings. Eventually, however, conscience came 
 off victorious, for, emerging from his place of concealment 
 and carrying in his mouth the stolen chop, he came across 
 the room and laid the tempting morsel at my feet. The 
 moment he dropped the stolen property he bolted again 
 under the sofa, and from this retreat no coaxing could 
 charm him for several hours afterward. Moreover, when 
 during that time he was spoken to or patted, he always 
 turned away his head in a ludicrously conscience-stricken 
 manner. 
 
 12. I have seen this dog escort a donkey which had 
 baskets on its back filled with apples. Although the dog 
 did not know that he was being observed by anybody, he 
 did his duty with the utmost faithfulness, for every time 
 the donkey turned back its head to take an apple out of 
 the baskets, the dog snapped at its nose ; and such was 
 his watchfulness that, although his companion was keenly 
 
288 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 desirous of tasting some of the fruit, he never allowed him 
 to get a single apple during the half hour they were left 
 together. I have also seen this terrier protecting meat 
 from other terriers (his sons), which lived in the same 
 house with him, and with which he was on the very best of 
 terms. More curious still, I have seen him seize my wrist- 
 bands while they were being worn by a friend to whom I 
 temporarily lent them. 
 
 PUSS WITH A MISSION. 
 
 1. ONE of the greatest satisfactions of my boyhood con- 
 sisted in watching the warfare carried on against the canine 
 race by a little and lissome black tabby who abode in the 
 principal store in the village. She seemed to be crazy to 
 avenge the wrongs of her kind. She went at every dog- 
 skin on four legs the moment she saw it ; disparity of size 
 or numbers was a matter of no consideration. 
 
 2. On one occasion a cur rolled howling out of the store 
 in agony. Two other canines, who had heard the noise of the 
 conflict, arrived simultaneously, whereupon the black paws 
 struck out right, left, and forward, one, two, three, with 
 the quickness of rapiers, the result being a victorious cat 
 in the middle and three yelping fugitives taking three dif- 
 ferent roads for safety. The miller's black and tan terrier, 
 having been once pitched bleeding down a staircase, con- 
 ceived such a terror of this fierce avenger of centuries of 
 wrong that, when his master came to the store for gro- 
 ceries, he could not be wheedled nearer than the black- 
 smith's shop, an eighth of a mile away, but remained there, 
 barking anxiously, until the imprudent human should re- 
 turn. 
 
 3. As for the postmaster's dog a long, lean, and frowzy 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED COMPANIONS. 289 
 
 spaniel, much given to pointing and setting at stray bones 
 and swill-pails scarcely a week passed that he was not 
 caught in the store-keeper's garden and soundly scratched 
 for his poachings. Hurry-scurry through the squash-vines 
 and green corn ; dog " a leetle ahead," but pussy close on 
 his bushy tail ; now the fugitive reaches the board fence 
 and squats for a leap ; in that moment a streak of furry 
 lightning mounts his back and draws a yelp ; away now 
 to another hopeful corner, and another, and another ; a 
 lucky bound at last, and then a straight race for life ; of 
 course the longest legs win it. 
 
 4. This feline fencer was tremendous on eyes ; she 
 lunged right at them and held on like a tiger. I have seen 
 a short-legged, stout-bodied, obstinate cur whirl her three 
 times around his head, with her claws fastened in the skin 
 of his stolid physiognomy. She was pitched a couple of 
 yards at last, and with great violence ; but the moment 
 she struck earth she was up like Antaeus, and at him again. 
 Of all the dogs in the neighboring country, only big Pomp 
 Wheeler was ever known to make Pussy Lewis turn her 
 tail. Both these heroic combatants are now with Hector 
 and Julius Caesar. Peace to their manes, such as they had ! 
 
 J. W. De Forest. 
 
 CANINE JUSTICE. 
 
 1. A CASE which occurred at a fashionable watering- 
 place on the east coast of Ireland some years ago exhibits 
 the remarkable sagacity displayed by a dog in devising and 
 administering justice. The jetty which stretched along 
 the small harbor was at that time used as a promenade by 
 the elite among the sojourners on the coast, where, after 
 the heat of the long summer days, they regaled themselves 
 with the fresh evening breezes wafted in from the sea. 
 13 
 
NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 2. Among the frequenters of this fashionable resort was 
 a gentleman of some position, who was the owner of a fine 
 Newfoundland dog which inherited the time-honored 
 possessions of that noble breed very great power and 
 facility in swimming ; and, at the period of the evening 
 when the jetty was most crowded with promenaders, his 
 master delighted to put this animal through a series of 
 aquatic performances for the entertainment of the assem- 
 bled spectators. Amusement being at a premium on the 
 coast, these nightly performances grew into something like 
 an "institution," and the brave "Captain" for such was 
 his name speedily became a universal favorite on the jetty. 
 
 3. It happened, however, that among the new arrivals 
 on the coast there came a certain major in her majesty's 
 army, accompanied by two bull-dogs of unusual size and 
 strength, and of great value ; but, value in a bull-dog 
 being inversely proportionate to its beauty, the appearance 
 of the major and his dogs excited no very enthusiastic 
 pleasure among the aesthetic strollers on the jetty. On the 
 first night on which the major presented himself nothing 
 unusual occurred, and Captain dived and swam as before. 
 But on the second evening the brave old favorite was walk- 
 ing quietly behind his master down the jetty, when, as 
 they were passing by the major and his dogs, one of these 
 ugly brutes flew at Captain and caught him by the neck 
 in such a way as to render his great size utterly useless for 
 his defense. A violent struggle ensued, but the bull-dog 
 came off the victor, for he stuck to his foe like a leech, and 
 could only be forced to release his hold by the insertion of 
 a bar of iron between his teeth. 
 
 4. The indignation of the by-standers against the major 
 was, of course, very great ; and its fervor was not a little 
 increased when they saw the poor Captain wending his 
 way homeward bleeding, and bearing all the marks of de- 
 feat. Some two or three evenings after this occurrence, 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED COMPANIONS. 291 
 
 when Captain again made his appearance on the jetty, he 
 looked quite crestfallen, bore his tail between his legs, and 
 stuck closely to the heels of his master. That evening passed 
 away quietly, and the next, and the next, and so on for 
 about a week Captain still bearing the aspect of mourning. 
 
 5. But one evening about eight or ten days after the 
 above encounter, as the major was marching in his usual 
 pompous manner along the jetty, accompanied by his dogs, 
 something attracted his attention in the water, and, walk- 
 ing to the very edge of the jetty, he stood for a moment 
 looking down into the sea. Scarcely had the two bull-dogs 
 taken up their stand beside their master when Captain, 
 seizing the opportunity for which he had so long looked, 
 rushed at his former conqueror, and, catching him by the 
 back of the neck, jumped off the jetty, with his foe in his 
 mouth, down some twenty feet or more into the sea. Once 
 in the water, the power of his enemy was crippled, while 
 Captain was altogether in his own element ; and, easily 
 overcoming all efforts at resistance, he succeeded in reso- 
 lutely keeping the bull-dog's head under water. 
 
 6. The excitement on the shore was, of course, intense. 
 The major shouted, and called out : " My dog ! my beau- 
 tiful dog ! Will no one save him ? " But no one seemed 
 at all inclined to interfere, or to risk his life for the ugly 
 dog. At length the major called out : " I'll give fifty pounds 
 to any one who will save my dog ! " and soon afterward a 
 boat which lay at some little distance pulled up to the res- 
 cue. Even then, however, it was only by striking Captain 
 on the head with the oars that he could be forced to release 
 his victim, which was taken into the boat quite senseless 
 from exhaustion and suffocation, and was with difficulty 
 brought to itself again. Captain, on the other hand, swam 
 in triumph to the shore, amid the plaudits of the specta- 
 tors, who shared, in sympathy at least, his well-earned hon- 
 ors Of revenge. ChamMs Journal 
 
292 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 HELPING A FRIEND. 
 
 1. A GEKTLEMAK of wealth and position in London 
 had, some years ago, a country-house and farm about sixty 
 miles from the metropolis. At this country residence he 
 kept a number of dogs, and among them a very large 
 mastiff and a Scotch terrier ; and, at the close of one of 
 his summer residences in the country, he resolved to bring 
 this terrier with him to London for the winter season. 
 There being no railway to that particular part of the coun- 
 try, the dog traveled with the servants in a post-carriage, 
 and, on his arrival at the town-house, was brought out to 
 the stable, where a large Newfoundland dog was kept as a 
 watch-dog. This latter individual looked with anything 
 but pleasure on the arrival of the little intruder from the 
 country ; and, consequently, the Scotch terrier had not been 
 very long in his new home when this canine master of the 
 stable attacked him, and, in the language of human beings, 
 gave him a sound thrashing. 
 
 2. The little animal could, of course, never hope by 
 himself to chastise his host for this inhospitable welcome, 
 but he determined that by some agency chastisement should 
 come. Accordingly, he lay very quiet that night in a re- 
 mote corner of the stable, but when morning had fully 
 shone forth he was nowhere to be found. Search was made 
 for him, as the phrase says, high and low, but without 
 success ; and the conclusion reluctantly arrived at was, 
 that he had been stolen. On the third morning after his 
 disappearance, however, he again showed himself in Lon- 
 don, but this time not alone ; for, to the amazement of 
 every one, he entered the stable attended by the big mastiff 
 from Kent. 
 
 3. This great brute had no sooner arrived than he flew 
 at the Newfoundland dog, who had so badly treated his 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED COMPANIONS. 293 
 
 little terrier friend, and a severe contest ensued, which the 
 little terrier himself, seated at a short distance, viewed 
 with the utmost dignity and satisfaction. The result of 
 the battle was, that the mastiff came off the conqueror, 
 and gave his opponent a tremendous beating. When he 
 had quite satisfied himself as to the result, this great 
 avenger from Kent scarcely waited to receive the recogni- 
 tion of his master, who had been sent for immediately on 
 the dog's arrival, but at once marched out of the stable, to 
 the door of which the little terrier accompanied him, and 
 was seen no more. 
 
 4. Some few days afterward, however, the gentleman 
 received a letter from his steward in the country, inform- 
 ing him of the sudden appearance of the terrier there, and 
 his as sudden disappearance along with the large mastiff ; 
 and stating that the latter had remained away three or 
 four days, during which they had searched in vain for him, 
 but had just then returned home again. It then, of course, 
 became quite clear that the little dog, finding himself 
 unable to punish the town bully, had thought of his "big 
 brother " in the country, had traveled over the sixty miles 
 which separated them in order to gain his assistance, and 
 had recounted to him his grievance ; it was plain, also, that 
 the mastiff had consented to come and avenge his old 
 friend, had traveled with him to London, and, having ful- 
 filled his promise, had returned home, leaving the little 
 fellow free from annoyance in the future. 
 
 Chambers^ Journal. 
 
 PIERROT THE FAITHFUL 
 
 1. AND now, my dear readers, let me tell you a story 
 of another friend of mine, who was a donkey, but not a 
 savant. His name was Pierrot. 
 
294 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 2. The frost was silvering the trees of the Park Monceau 
 with dull,, white powder, like the head of a marquis of the 
 old regime. It was in front of the rotunda, and nine 
 o'clock in the morning. The sun hung in the fog like a 
 globe of fire, but cast forth no beams. The wind was cruel 
 to the poor world. People walked rapidly along the Boule- 
 vard de Courcelles ; women veiled their faces, and men 
 drew their heads inside their collars. It was a day when a 
 lover's sigh would have frozen in the air. 
 
 3. I was hurrying by like everybody else. A female 
 rag-picker, pale and famished, led by the bridle a poor little 
 donkey, which seemed a hundred years old, and which 
 dragged a poor little cart, full of the rubbish of the street : 
 rags, broken bottles, torn papers, worn-out skillets, crusts 
 of bread the thousand nothings which are the fortune of 
 the rag-pickers. The woman had done good work since 
 midnight, but the donkey was ready to drop. He stopped 
 short, as if he had made up his mind to go no farther. 
 His legs trembled and threatened a fall. He hung his head 
 with resignation, as if awaiting the stroke of death. 
 
 4. The sight touched and arrested me. A man would 
 have cursed and beaten the poor beast to rouse him ; the 
 woman looked at him with an eye of motherly pity. The 
 donkey returned the look, as if saying, " You see it is all 
 over. I have done my best for you, night after night, be- 
 cause I saw your misery was greater than mine. You have 
 treated me well, sharing your bread with me. and your 
 neighbors' oats when you could get them ; but I am dying 
 at last." 
 
 5. The woman looked at him and said, gently, " Come, 
 come, dear Pierrot, do not leave me here." She lightened 
 the load by taking out a basket of broken bottles. " Come, 
 now," she said, as if talking to a child. "You can get 
 along nicely now." She put her shoulder to the wheel, 
 but the donkey did not move. He knew that he had not 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED COMPANIONS. 
 
 295 
 
 strength to walk to St. Ouen, his wretched home. She 
 still coaxed him. "How do you think we can get along 
 this way, Pierrot ? To be sure, I could drag the cart. 
 But I can't put you in it, and you would be ashamed to be 
 
 Pierrot the Faithful. 
 
 dragged after it." The donkey raised his ears, but no 
 move. 
 
 6. I was going to speak to her, when she ran into the 
 nearest wine-shop. The donkey followed her with anxious 
 eyes ; he seemed fearful that he would die without his mis- 
 
296 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 tress. He was so little you would have taken him at a dis- 
 tance for a Pyrenean dog. He had grown gray in the 
 harness. A few tufts of gray hair remained here and there 
 on his emaciated body. He looked like a mountain burned 
 bare in many places. His resigned air showed a mind free 
 from worldly vanities. He was far past the age when one 
 strikes attitudes. He was almost transparent in his lean- 
 ness. But his face was all the more expressive. It had 
 something almost human in its intelligence and goodness. 
 Why had he been condemned to such suffering ? Was it 
 the expiation of a former life passed in luxurious orgies ? 
 
 7. The rag-picker soon returned, bringing a piece of 
 bread and a lump of sugar. The donkey turned and showed 
 his teeth, like old piano-keys. But, although it was his 
 breakfast-time, he had no more strength in his mouth than 
 in his legs. She gave him the sugar. He took it as if to 
 oblige her, but dropped it again, and the same with the 
 bread. 
 
 8. " Ah ! what shall I do ?" said the rag-picker. She 
 thought no more of her cart. She was full of anxiety for 
 her friend Pierrot. "Pierrot!" she cried again. Two 
 great tears came to her eyes. She took his head in her 
 arms and kissed him like a child. The caress did what 
 nothing else could do. The donkey roused himself, and 
 brayed as in his best days. I feared it was only his swan- 
 song. I approached, and said to the woman : "You seem 
 to be in trouble." 
 
 9. "Oh !" she said, crying, "if you knew how I love 
 this beast. I saved him from the butchers four years ago. 
 In those days I had only a hod. I have raised seven chil- 
 dren with my hook. The father is gone and one other, 
 and my eldest daughter was taken a fortnight ago. My 
 worst grief was that I had to take one to the Foundlings. 
 I had eleven in all ; four of them died. It's no use ; you 
 can't take good care of them when you work in the streets 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED COMPANIONS. 297 
 
 all night. This little donkey has been my only consola- 
 tion. He was better company than my husband. He 
 never got drunk, and never beat me ; and I never beat 
 him. Did I, Pierrot?" 
 
 10. The poor little beast seemed to share in the conver- 
 sation. He half raised his ears and assented. One of my 
 friends passed by, and asked me what I was doing. " I 
 am making a new friend." "He may be witty, but he is 
 not handsome." "I find him admirable, and I would like 
 to see you in his place. He has been out since midnight. 
 Here, you want to help me in a work of charity ?" " With 
 all my heart." "Very well; let us buy this donkey and 
 put him on the retired list. This good woman will take 
 care of him." 
 
 11. The rag-picker looked at us severely, fearing we 
 were laughing at her. But when she saw the shine of the 
 louis-d'or she smiled. "How much did Pierrot cost ?" 
 "Ten francs." "Well, you go back to the abattoir and 
 buy another donkey, and take care of this one." I gave my 
 card to the woman, and said good-by to her and the donkey. 
 The miracle was complete. The donkey started off in high 
 spirits, the woman pushing the cart from behind. 
 
 12. That evening the woman came to me in tears. I 
 understood at once. " Oh ! sir, he is gone." " Poor Pier- 
 rot !" "Yes, sir, we got to St. Ouen one way or another ; 
 but when he came in sight of our hut he fell on his knees. 
 I tried to raise him, but this time it was all over. My 
 children came running and crying. They talked to him 
 and kissed him. He looked at them so sadly as to break 
 our hearts. I tell you there are lots of people in the world 
 not worth half so much as poor Pierrot. Think of it : he 
 wanted to die at home after finishing his day's work." 
 Like a soldier who dies after firing his last cartridge. 
 
 13. The rag-picker opened her hand, and I saw the 
 money I had given her in the morning. " Here is your 
 
298 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 hundred francs, sir." I do not know whether I most ad- 
 mired her or the donkey the donkey who did his duty to 
 death, or the woman more delicate than our charity. 
 
 Arsene Houssaye. 
 
 EMOTIONAL EXPRESSION. 
 
 1. THE first principle upon which the emotional expres- 
 sion of animals depends is, that the muscular movement 
 which gives the expression is serviceable to the animal at 
 the time it is made. Among the carnivora, some crouch to 
 remain concealed until the game is within reach of their 
 spring ; others crouch to get out of sight altogether ; some 
 boldly advance to the attack, every muscle and nerve con- 
 nected with their organs of attack in extreme tension ; and 
 others await the attack, the nerves and muscles connected 
 with the organs of defense in equal tension. The various 
 attitudes assumed are necessary for the best performance 
 of the act which is to succeed, and the attitude becomes 
 the expression of the mood of the animal at the time. 
 
 2. The second principle of expression is that of antithe- 
 sis. Certain states of mind lead to certain movements 
 which are of service. When a directly opposite state of 
 mind is induced, there is a strong and involuntary tendency 
 to make movements of a directly opposite nature, though 
 these have never been of any service. We can best illustrate 
 these principles by referring to the actions of the dog and 
 cat, which can be observed by all. 
 
 3. When a dog approaches a strange dog or man in a 
 hostile frame of mind, he walks upright and very stiffly ; 
 his head is slightly raised, or not much lowered ; the tail 
 is held erect and quite rigid ; the hairs bristle, especially 
 along the neck and back ; the pricked ears are directed for- 
 ward, and the eyes have a fixed stare. These actions fol- 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED COMPANIONS. 299 
 
 low from the dog's intention to attack his enemy, and are 
 thus intelligible. As he prepares to spring upon his ene- 
 my he utters a savage growl, the canine teeth are uncov- 
 ered, and the ears are pressed close backward on the head. 
 
 4. Let us now suppose that the dog suddenly discovers 
 that the man whom he is approaching is not a stran- 
 ger, but his master ; and let it be observed how completely 
 and instantaneously his whole bearing is reversed. In- 
 
 A Fierce Dog. 
 
 stead of walking upright, the body sinks downward, or 
 even crouches, and is thrown into flexuous movements ; 
 his tail, instead of being held stiff and upright, is low- 
 ered and wagged from side to side ; his hair instantly be- 
 comes smooth; his ears are depressed and drawn back- 
 ward, but not closely to the head : and his lips hang loosely. 
 From the drawing back of the ears, the eyelids become 
 elongated, and the eyes no longer appear round and star- 
 ing. It should be added that the animal is at such times 
 
300 
 
 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 in an excited condition of joy, and the nerve-force will 
 be generated in excess, which naturally leads to actions of 
 some kind. 
 
 5. Not one of the above movements, so clearly expressive 
 of affection, is of the least service to the animal. They 
 are explicable, as far as I can see, solely from being in com- 
 plete opposition or antithesis to the attitude and movements 
 which, from intelligible causes, are assumed when a dog in- 
 tends to fight, and which, consequently, are expressive of 
 
 An Affectionate Dog. 
 
 anger. It is not a little difficult to represent by pictures 
 affection in a dog while caressing its master, for the very 
 essence of the expression lies in the wagging of the tail and 
 in the continuous flexuous movements of the body. 
 
 6. I will here give one instance of this antithesis in ex- 
 pression. I formerly possessed a large dog, who, like every 
 other dog, was much pleased to go out walking. He 
 showed his pleasure by trotting gravely before me with high 
 steps, head much raised, moderately erected ears, and a 
 tail carried aloft, but not stiffly. Not far from my house a 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED COMPANIONS. 301 
 
 path branches off to the right, leading to the hot-house 
 which I used often to visit for a few moments to look at my 
 experimental plants. This was always a great disappoint- 
 ment to the dog, as he did not know whether I would con- 
 tinue my walk; and the instantaneous and complete change 
 of expression which came over him as soon as my body 
 swerved in the least toward the path and I sometimes 
 tried this as an experiment was laughable. 
 
 7. His look of dejection was known to every member 
 of the family, and was called his hot-house face. This con- 
 sisted in the head drooping much, the whole body sinking 
 a little and remaining motionless, the ears and tail fall- 
 ing suddenly down ; but the tail was by no means wagged. 
 With the falling of his ears and of his great chaps, the eyes 
 became much changed in appearance, and I fancied they 
 looked less bright. His aspect was that of piteous, hope- 
 less dejection ; and it was the more laughable as the cause 
 was so slight. Every detail in his attitude was in complete 
 opposition to his former joyful yet dignified bearing, and 
 I can explain it in no other way except through this prin- 
 ciple of antithesis. 
 
 8. We will now turn to the cat. When this animal is 
 threatened by a dog, it arches its back in a surprising man- 
 ner, erects its hair, opens its mouth and spits. We are not 
 here concerned with this well-known attitude, expressive 
 of terror and anger combined ; we wish to observe that 
 which expresses anger alone. This is riot often seen, but 
 may be observed when two cats are fighting ; and I have 
 seen it well exhibited by a savage cat when plagued by a 
 boy. The attitude is almost exactly the same as that of 
 the tiger disturbed and growling over his food, which every 
 one must have beheld in menageries. 
 
 9. The animal assumes a crouching position, with the 
 body extended ; and the whole tail, or the tip alone, is 
 lashed or curled from side to side. The hair is not in the 
 
302 
 
 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 least erect. Thus far, the attitude and movements are 
 nearly the same as when the animal is prepared to spring 
 on its prey, and when, no doubt, it feels savage. But 
 when preparing to fight there is this difference : the ears 
 are closely pressed backward ; the mouth is partially opened, 
 showing the teeth ; the forefeet are occasionally struck out 
 with protruded claws ; and the animal occasionally utters a 
 fierce growl. These actions naturally express the intent of 
 attacking the enemy. 
 
 IS" 
 
 A Cat, Savage, and ready to Fight. 
 
 10. Let us now look at a" cat in a directly opposite 
 frame of mind, while feeling affectionate and caressing her 
 master, and mark how opposite her attitude is in every 
 respect. She now stands upright, with her back slightly 
 arched, which makes her hair appear rather rough, but it 
 does not bristle ; her tail, instead of being extended and 
 lashed from side to side, is held quite stiff, and perpendicu- 
 larly upward ; her ears are erect and pointed ; her mouth 
 is closed ; and she rubs against her master with a purr in- 
 stead of a growl. 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED COMPANIONS. 
 
 303 
 
 11. Let it further be observed how widely different 
 is the whole bearing of an affectionate cat from that of 
 a dog when, with his body crouching and flexuous, and 
 ears depressed, he caresses his master. This contrast in 
 
 the attitudes of these 
 two carnivorous ani- 
 mals, under the same 
 pleased and affection- 
 ate frame of mind, 
 can be explained, as 
 it appears to me, sole- 
 ly by their move- 
 ments standing in 
 complete antithesis 
 to those which are 
 naturally assumed 
 when these animals 
 feel savage and are 
 prepared either to 
 fight or to seize their 
 prey. 
 
 12. In these cases 
 of the cat and the 
 
 dog there is every reason to believe that the gestures, both 
 of hostility and affection, are innate or inherited ; for they 
 are almost identically the same in the different races of 
 the species, and in all the individuals of the same race both 
 
 young and old. Charles Darwin. 
 
 An Affectionate Cat. 
 
 TO FLUSH, MY DOG. 
 
 1. LOVING friend, the gift of one 
 Who her own true faith hath run 
 
304 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 Through thy lower nature ; * 
 Be my benediction said 
 With my hand upon thy head, 
 
 Gentle fellow-creature ! 
 
 2. Underneath my stroking hand, 
 Startled eyes of hazel bland, 
 
 Kindling, growing larger, 
 Up thou leapest with a spring, 
 Full of prank and curveting, 
 
 Leaping like a charger. 
 
 3. Leap ! thy broad tail waves a light ; 
 Leap ! thy slender feet are bright, 
 
 Canopied in fringes. 
 Leap I those tasseled ears of thine 
 Flicker strangely, fair and fine, 
 
 Down their golden inches. 
 
 4. Yes, my pretty, sportive friend, 
 Little is 't to such an end 
 
 That I praise thy rareness ! 
 Other dogs may be thy peers, 
 Haply in those drooping ears 
 
 And this glossy fairness. 
 
 5. But of thee it shall be said, 
 This dog watched beside a bed 
 
 Day and night un weary 
 Watched within a curtained room, 
 Where no sunbeam broke the gloom 
 
 Round the sick and dreary. 
 
 6. Other dogs in thymy dew 
 
 Tracked the hares, and followed through 
 
 * This dog was the gift of my dear and admired friend, Miss Mitford. 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED COMPANIONS. 305 
 
 Sunny moor or meadow ; 
 This dog only crept and crept, 
 Next a languid cheek that slept, 
 
 Sharing in the shadow. 
 
 7. Other dogs of loyal cheer 
 Bounded at the whistle clear, 
 
 Up the woodside hieing ; 
 This dog only watched, in reach 
 Of a faintly uttered speech, 
 
 Or a louder sighing. 
 
 8. And if one or two quick tears 
 Dropped upon his glossy ears, 
 
 Or a sigh came double 
 Up he sprang in eager haste, 
 Fawning, fondling, breathing fast, 
 
 In a tender trouble. 
 
 9. And this dog was satisfied 
 
 If a pale, thin hand would glide 
 
 Down his dewlaps sloping, 
 Which he pushed his nose within, 
 After platforming his chin 
 
 On the palm left open. 
 
 10. This dog, if a friendly voice 
 Called him now to blither choice 
 
 Than such a chamber keeping, 
 " Come out," praying from the door, 
 Presseth backward as before, 
 
 Up against me leaping. 
 
 11. Therefore to this dog will I, 
 Tenderly, not scornfully, 
 
 Render praise and favor : 
 With my hand upon his head, 
 Is my benediction said, 
 
 Therefore, and for ever. Mrs. Browning. 
 
PART XII. 
 OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 
 
 HOW RATS MANAGE. 
 
 1. IT is easy to show that the rat is one of the wisest of 
 animals. Just think how closely he sticks to man, though 
 man tries day and night to get rid of him. Eats always 
 stay with us, never are stained, always look sleek and com- 
 fortable, and always seem to feel more at home in our 
 houses than we ourselves feel. What seems more hopeless 
 than a rat on board a ship, with the ocean all around him, 
 and not a friend to protect him, and every human being in 
 the vessel ready to kill him if he shows his head ? And 
 yet rats thrive on board ship better than men do, and they 
 increase so fast that, when the vessel reaches port, it may 
 have to be deserted for a time by all on board in order to 
 drive out the rats by smoke or steam. 
 
 2. On the return of the English man-of-war Valiant 
 from Havana, in 1766, the rats were found to have so in- 
 creased that they ate a hundred pounds of biscuit in a day ; 
 so the ship was smoked out, and for days together they 
 collected daily six basketfuls of rats. In the Arctic 
 regions, where Dr. Kane and his crew could hardly keep 
 themselves alive, the rats constantly multiplied, and the 
 dogs were afraid to go into the hold of the vessel. The 
 crew stayed on deck one terribly cold night and tried to 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 307 
 
 smoke out the rats, but in vain. Then Dr. Hayes burned 
 charcoal till he nearly set the ship on fire, but it did very 
 little good, and at last the men got used to sleeping with 
 rats among their blankets, and Dr. Kane made rat-soup for 
 dinner. 
 
 3. But on land, when rats find themselves in danger, 
 a whole colony of them will sometimes remove from a build- 
 ing, of their own accord, and set up housekeeping in some 
 safer place. Mr. Buckland tells a story of some men who 
 had made great preparations for destroying all the rats in a 
 
 .certain barn in England. When the morning came the 
 men entered the barn with dogs and ferrets and big sticks, 
 but not a rat could they find. The ferrets ran into the 
 holes, the dogs got under the straw, and the men poked 
 with their sticks, but not a rat could they find. After- 
 ward a laborer came and said that he had seen a whole 
 regiment of rats, on that very morning, as they marched 
 away from that barn to another. 
 
 4. One reason why rats are able to live and thrive in 
 spite of everything is that they show such sagacity in ob- 
 taining food. A lady of my acquaintance found that the 
 eggs in her kitchen disappeared very fast, and she and her 
 husband, after patient watching, saw the rats at work upon 
 them. She saw one rat lie upon its back and take an egg 
 or two between its paws, with the help of the others. 
 Thus it became a sort of live sled, or wheelbarrow without 
 wheels ; and another rat, taking in its mouth the tail of the 
 first one, dragged the load of eggs to their hole. Other 
 observers have seen parties of rats pushing eggs up or down 
 stairs, two being busy with each egg ; sometimes they have 
 been seen formed in a line, and passing along the eggs from 
 one to another, as firemen pass buckets of water at a fire. 
 This shows the same intelligence that beavers show when 
 they unite in their engineering work. 
 
 5. The same lady told me that she had discovered how 
 
308 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 the rats drink sweet-oil. Her husband was an apothecary, 
 and had a number of bottles of sweet-oil, some of which 
 were fonnd nearly empty. They watched, and saw two 
 rats at work upon the bottle. They pulled out the cork, 
 or nibbled through it, and then one of them let his tail 
 down into the bottle, and, soon drawing it out, let his com- 
 rade lick it. Then the comrade took his turn, and dipped 
 in his tail, and the first rat licked that, and so they were 
 as happy as you may see poor little children on wharves 
 around a cask of molasses. The same thing has been de- 
 scribed in the books, but it seems very hard to believe. 
 Naturalists say that these stories "lack confirmation"; 
 but they would hardly be repeated so often if they were 
 not true, and I believe my old friend's account, at any rate. 
 
 6. There is a story of a good woman in England who 
 heard for two nights a terrible hubbub in her cellar, so that 
 she collected her neighbors to defend her. On the third 
 night her maid found that a barrel of sweet wine had been 
 entirely emptied by rats. They had first gnawed through 
 the bung, to drink the wine, and then, as it sunk lower and 
 lower, they had eaten away the whole side of the barrel. 
 The servant-girls declared that " the ghost had taken the 
 wine " ; but, if so, the ghost's teeth made marks exactly like 
 rats' teeth ; and Mr. Buckland still keeps the remains of 
 the cask to show what these little animals can do. 
 
 7. Eats certainly use their tails a great deal, whether 
 they dip them into bottles or not. If you observe a rat 
 climbing, or springing, or rising on his hind legs, you will 
 see that his tail helps him very much. It is thick and 
 strong, and the naturalist Cuvier says that it has as many 
 muscles as the human hand. It seems very surprising that 
 rats should be so clean when they live on such dirty food 
 and in such dirty places. Oats seem to lose some of their 
 instinct of cleanliness when they have to live as rats live ; 
 but rats clean themselves after eating as carefully as the 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 309 
 
 most domestic cats ; and no fleas or other insects are ever 
 found upon them. Our rats are commonly of the gray 
 species, which has gradually driven out the black rat. 
 
 8. But. sometimes white rats are kept as pets, and some- 
 times a variety of colors may be seen among wild rats. A 
 lady of my acquaintance once lived in a house in Boston, 
 with a stable behind it, from which a great many large 
 rats used to come into the kitchen and coal-shed. They 
 were so familiar that the cook once declared that she heard 
 a knock at the kitchen door, and, on opening it, saw a large 
 rat standing on his hind legs and looking at her, "so im- 
 pudent," as she said. Be that as it may, this lady was 
 once looking out into the yard and saw several rats drink- 
 ing by the pump. In their midst was lying (as she 
 thought) a beautiful piece of reddish fur. As she won- 
 dered how it came there, it suddenly took to its heels and 
 ran away into the stable with the other rats, and she never 
 saw it again. 
 
 9. Rats are not easy to tame, and yet they have some- 
 times made excellent pets. The driver of a London om- 
 nibus once found in his hay-loft a young rat of a piebald 
 color, which he brought home for his children to play 
 with. The little thing soon grew tame, and was a great 
 favorite, the children naming him "Ikey," after their 
 eldest brother. He would lie before the fire at full length, 
 or run round and round after his own tail like a cat. His 
 master often carried him in his pocket, or put him in his 
 dinner-basket to guard the dinner. Ikey was always honest 
 except when there was plum-pudding in the basket, and 
 then he had not moral courage enough to resist nib- 
 bling at the plums. But if others touched the basket, Ikey 
 flew at them and drove them away. In return, his master 
 taught him to sit on his hind legs and beg, to jump through 
 a hoop, to drag a little cart, and to carry money in his 
 
 mouth. T. W. Higginson. 
 
310 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 THE CHIPMUNK AT HOME. 
 
 1. WITH the first sweet blossoms of the- Epigcea, and 
 long before the foremost warbler greets his old-time home 
 with gleesome songs, our little chipmunk has roused him- 
 self from his long winter's nap, and, sniffing the south 
 wind as it whirls the dead leaves about, scampers to and 
 fro while the sun shines, and dives into his winter quarters, 
 it may be for a whole week, if the north wind whispers to 
 the fcall beech-trees. But the blustering days of March 
 give way in due time to showery April, and then, with 
 more courage, "chip" faces the music of the winds, blow 
 they from whatever quarter, and, darting along the top 
 rail of our zigzag fences, chatters, scolds, and calls at and 
 to his equally noisy companions. They know full well 
 that they have the summer before them, and, while de- 
 termined to enjoy it, begin early and in good earnest to 
 make arrangements for its coming duties. We watched 
 several pairs of them from March to November, during the 
 last year (1874), and our sketch is based on numerous notes 
 made at different times. 
 
 2. Until the weather became fairly settled, and really 
 spring-like in temperature, these little chipmunks did not 
 frequently show themselves, and then only in the middle 
 of the day. The occurrence of a cold storm they appeared 
 to foretell by twenty-four hours, and resumed their hiber- 
 nating sleep, becoming lethargic, and very difficult to re- 
 store to consciousness. A pair that we dug out in March, 
 having two days before re-entered their winter quarters and 
 become again torpid, were apparently lifeless when first 
 taken up in the hands, and not until after several hours' 
 warming did they become lively and altogether themselves 
 again. This seemed to us the more curious, in that they 
 can respond to a favorable change in the weather in a short 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 
 
 311 
 
 time, even when the thermometric change is really but a 
 few degrees. 
 
 3. On the 3d of May a pair made their appearance in 
 the yard' of our residence, and took up their abode in a 
 
 American Chipmunk. 
 
 stone wall having a southern outlook, and on the edge of 
 a steep descent of seventy feet, which hill-side is thickly 
 wooded, and harbors scores of these little chipmunks, or 
 
312 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 "ground-squirrels," as they are more commonly called. 
 From the fact of these little animals living wholly under- 
 ground, and it being stated that their underground homes 
 were quite elaborate in structure, we determined to wait 
 until the pair in our yard had completed their excavations 
 in and under the stone wall and arranged their nest, which 
 time we judged by their actions, and then seeking out the 
 home of another couple, which was readily accessible, we 
 undertook to expose the nest and its approaches. This we 
 did on May 29th. 
 
 4. The nest contained five young, not more than forty- 
 eight hours old. The two entrances were at the foot of 
 a large beech-tree standing about six feet from the brow of 
 the hill. The grass alone grew about the tree, and the 
 holes on the surface of the ground were very conspicuous. 
 No attempt at concealment had been made ; but this was 
 evidently because there is here almost a total absence of 
 their particular enemies. Animals soon learn this fact, 
 and their homes and habits vary with the knowledge. 
 From the right-hand entrance to the nest was an inter- 
 vening space of nine feet traversed by a cylindrical passage 
 somewhat serpentine in its course, which made the distance 
 really about twelve feet. The nest itself was oval, about 
 twenty inches in length and ten inches in height. It was 
 lined with very fine grass. We had hoped to find several 
 passages leading from the nest, and two or more "extra" 
 nests, or magazines for storing away food, but no trace of 
 them was to be found. 
 
 5. On the 23d of June six young chipmunks made 
 their appearance about the stone wall in the yard, and to 
 these, with their parents, we will now confine our atten- 
 tion. It puzzles us now, when we think of it, to imagine 
 when this company of eight chipmunks took any rest. 
 Very frequently during the summer we were astir at sun- 
 rise, but the chipmunks were already on the go, and 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 313 
 
 throughout July they appeared to do little but play, which 
 sporting, by the way, is very animated. They seem to be 
 playing at what children know as "tag," i. e., they chase 
 each other to and fro, and try not simply to touch, we 
 should judge, but to bite each other's tail. 
 
 6. The way in which they scamper along the tapering 
 points of a paling fence is simply astonishing ; but how- 
 ever mad may be their galloping, let a hawk come near, 
 and in a moment every one is motionless. If on a fence, 
 they simply squat wherever they may be at the time, and 
 trust to remaining unnoticed. If on the ground, and not 
 too far from their burrows, which is not often the case, 
 they will dart to their nests with an incredible celerity, 
 going, we believe, the whole length of their passage-way to 
 the nest, turning about, and retracing their steps to the 
 entrance, from which they will peer out, and, when the 
 danger is over, reappear and recommence their sports. 
 
 7. About August loth they commenced to work in real 
 earnest. Instead of playful, careless creatures, that lived 
 from hand to mouth, they became very sober and busy in- 
 deed. Instead of keeping comparatively near home, they 
 wandered to quite a distance, for them, and, filling both 
 cheek-pouches full of corn, chincapins (dwarf chestnuts), 
 and small acorns, home they would hurry, looking, in the 
 face, like children with the mumps. This storing away 
 of food was continued until the first heavy white frosts, 
 when the chipmunks, as a member of Congress once said, 
 went "into a state of retiracy." 
 
 8. The food gathered, we believe, is consumed in part 
 on their going into winter quarters, they spending some 
 time in their retreats before commencing their hibernating 
 sleep. This belief, on our part, is based on the result of 
 digging out a third nest on the 3d of November. The last 
 time we noted down seeing a chipmunk belonging to a cer- 
 tain nest was October 22d. Twelve days after we very 
 
 14 
 
314 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 carefully closed the three passages that led to the nest and 
 dug down. We found four chipmunks very cozily fixed 
 for winter, in a roomy nest, and all of them thoroughly 
 wide awake. 
 
 9. Their store of provisions was wholly chestnuts and 
 acorns, and the shells of these nuts were all pushed into 
 one of the passages, so that there should be no litter min- 
 gled with the soft hay that lined the nest. How long this 
 underground life lasts before hibernation really commences, 
 it is difficult to determine ; but as this torpid state does 
 not continue until their food-supply is again obtainable 
 out of doors, the chipmunks, no doubt, store away suffi- 
 cient for their needs throughout the early spring, and per- 
 haps until berries are ripe. Charles c AbbotL 
 
 AN EXCAVATOR. 
 
 1. WALKING through the fields one May morning, I 
 surprised a mole above ground a very large specimen, 
 one of the giants of this kind. It was an unwonted spec- 
 tacle, something I had never seen before this purblind, 
 shovel-footed, subterranean dweller, this metaphysician of 
 the earth, groping his way along in the open daylight. 
 Had he grown tired, then, of the darkness, of the endless 
 burrowings that lead nowhither, of undermining the paths 
 and the garden, and culling off the tender rootlets of the 
 plants ? 
 
 2. He was ill-equipped for traveling above ground ; he 
 was like a stranded fish ; the soil was his element, and he 
 knew it as well as I did. The moment I disturbed him he 
 began to go into the ground as a diver into the water. 
 When he moved, his tendency was downward, like a plow. 
 It was amusing to see his broad, muscular, naked front 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 315 
 
 feet, while turned outward and upward instead of down- 
 ward, shovel their way through the grass into the turf. In 
 less than half a minute he would nearly bury himself from 
 view. Then by the tail I would draw him forth, and see 
 him repeat the attempt. He did not look or feel about for 
 a hole or for a soft place, but assaulted the turf wherever 
 he touched it, his slender, sensitive nose feeling the way, 
 and his huge, fleshy hands opening the passage. He was 
 indeed a giant in these members ; they were to him what 
 the wings of a bird are to the bird ; all his powers and 
 speed lay here ; his hind legs were small and feeble, and 
 often trailed behind him, as if helpless or broken. 
 
 3. Fancy a race of savages by some peculiar manual oc- 
 cupation developing an enormous hand a hand as long and 
 broad as a scoop-shovel, usurping the wrist and the forearm, 
 with the legs and feet proportionately small, and you have 
 a type of the mole. This creature was a cripple at the 
 surface, but a most successful traveler a few inches below. 
 His fur was like silk plush, finer and softer than that of 
 any other creature known to me, excepting, perhaps, the bat. 
 Why should these creatures of darkness have such delicate 
 vestments ? Probably because they are creatures of dark- 
 ness. The owl is softer clad than the hawk, the hare than 
 the squirrel, the moth than the butterfly. 
 
 4. I looked in vain for the mole's eyes. I blew open 
 the fur and explored the place with the point of a pin, but 
 no eyes, or semblance to eyes, could I find, and I began to 
 think that Aristotle was right in saying the mole is blind. 
 Then I dispatched him and stripped off his skin, and the 
 eyes were revealed two minute black specks, that adhered 
 to the tissues of the head after the skin was removed. It 
 was only by the aid of a pocket-glass that I was able to de- 
 termine that they really were eyes. There was no eye- 
 socket, and I wondered that they had not come away with 
 the skin. Probably the only use the mole has for eyes is 
 
316 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 to distinguish daylight from darkness, and for this purpose 
 these microscopic dots may suffice ; but as regards any other 
 and more specific visual powers, he is practically blind. 
 
 John Burrougfis. 
 
 FOREST ENGINEERS. 
 
 1. THE beaver is at once an engineer, a carpenter, and 
 a mason. As we shall see, it prepares the place for its 
 habitations with all the skill of an experienced engineer, 
 and in its building it uses the materials and methods of both 
 the carpenter and mason. The beaver was once an inhabi- 
 tant of all the northern part of the United States, but is 
 now met with only in the remote parts of the Northwest 
 and in Canada. Its nearest relation now among us is the 
 musquash, or musk-rat, which ought to be called the 
 musk-beaver, as it is no rat at all. And if you want to 
 know about the beaver, the best thing you can do is to ob- 
 serve the habits of the musquash. His house is very much 
 like the beaver's house, only smaller, and he can do almost 
 everything that his cousin does, except make dams and 
 canals. And even the beaver does not build those, except 
 when they are really needed, as I shall show. 
 
 2. A beaver is two or three times as large as a musquash ; 
 indeed, sometimes he is as heavy as a stout boy, weighing- 
 seventy or eighty pounds. His tail is flattened, like that 
 of the musquash, only much more so, and the edges are 
 horizontal instead of vertical. It was once thought that 
 he used this broad, flat tail as a spade or trowel, but this is 
 not now generally believed. At any rate, the tail is the 
 most curious part of the animal, it is so long and large, 
 and covered with rough scales instead of fur. The beaver 
 sculls his way with it in the water, as you can scull a boat 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 
 
 317 
 
 by one oar in the stern. And he supports himself by it 
 when he rears on his hind legs to cut down a tree. I sus- 
 pect a beaver who had lost his tail would find it hard to 
 get a living. 
 
 Beaver Dam, 
 
 3. I said that the beaver does not always build dams. 
 That is one thing which shows his intelligence. If he lives 
 beside a lake, with plenty of water, why should he need a 
 dam ? In such a case he has a hole in the bank, and a hut 
 
318 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 in front of it, and keeps house just as a musquash would. 
 But if he has to live by a stream where there is not water 
 enough to surround his hut, he then goes to work, just as 
 a man would, to make an artificial pond by means of a dam. 
 
 4. In the first place, he and his family cut down small 
 trees, and then divide them into shorter lengths, such as 
 they can carry in their mouths. Sometimes the trees are 
 as much as two feet thick. They are really cut, not merely 
 nibbled or 'hacked. The beaver's front teeth are sharp like 
 chisels, and his work looks as if done with a chisel, in long 
 cuts. It is smoother than a boy's hatchet-cutting is apt to 
 be, and looks at a distance as if done with an axe. Many 
 specimens of these cuttings are now preserved in museums, 
 and they are very curious. 
 
 5. Then the beaver drags these cuttings to the place 
 where he is to build his dam. He brings branches in his 
 mouth, and pushes earth with his paws, and rolls stones 
 along, and sometimes has been seen swimming with hay 
 and brush upon his head all to be piled together and made 
 into a dam. At first the dam is rough and loose, like the 
 mound of a musquash. But, when once made, it lasts for 
 years and even centuries, and the beavers keep constantly 
 at work on it, smoothing it and pressing it down and stop- 
 ping all the gaps, so that at last it is a solid dam, that will 
 bear the weight of many men. These old dams are neatly 
 finished with earth-work on the upper side and with rough 
 stick-work on the lower side, and gradually they are over- 
 grown with grass and bushes, and look as if they were 
 natural banks. A millwright in Michigan told me that 
 the beaver-dams were as solid as any that he could build, 
 and that he built his upon just the same plan filling the 
 stream with boughs, and gradually pressing these down with 
 stones and gravel and logs. 
 
 6. The beavers keep these dams constantly in repair, 
 and may sometimes be seen by night at work on them. 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 319 
 
 when the trappers have made holes in them. There are 
 sometimes several dams on the same stream, one below an- 
 other, so that the water of each flows back nearly to the 
 foot of that above. Sometimes they seem to protect a 
 large dam by a smaller one below, so that the pressure of 
 the water from below may resist the pressure at the bottom 
 of the principal dam. In one case seven dams were found 
 on the same stream within a distance of one hundred and 
 sixty feet. 
 
 7. But I do not think that even the dams made by 
 beavers show so much thought or ingenuity as their canals. 
 It is much easier and safer for them to carry their food 
 and building material by water than by land. So some- 
 times they cut a canal across the bend of a stream to 
 shorten the distance. Sometimes, again, it is cut through 
 the mud until they reach firm ground for their burrows. 
 These canals are usually about three feet wide and three 
 deep, and they are sometimes five hundred feet long. Any 
 engineer will tell you that it needs a good deal of skill and 
 ingenuity to decide where to lay out such a canal as that, 
 and then to cut it regularly, so that the water shall flow 
 smoothly through. And the most remarkable thing of all 
 is, that they know how to combine the principles of the 
 canal and the dam, so that when they come to an obstruc- 
 tion, such as a rock in the bed of their stream, they imme- 
 diately make a dam to secure the necessary flow of water. 
 Successive generations evidently work for many years upon 
 these canals, and I can hardly think of anything else done 
 by an animal that shows so much contrivance. 
 
 8. The house or lodge is always separate from the dam, 
 and it looks like that of the musquash, only that it is much 
 larger, and built of stronger materials. Sometimes a cord 
 of wood is used in building one house. There is an en- 
 trance under water like that of the musquash, and some- 
 times two. These openings are very neatly made. The 
 
320 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 beavers drag their branches and pieces of bark into the 
 water, and then take them into the dining-room by the 
 hidden entrance. Indeed, I believe the house is all dining- 
 room, but it is always very neatly swept. 
 
 9. There are not often more than eight or ten beavers, 
 old and young, in a single house. Hearne, an old traveler, 
 once found thirty-seven under a single roof. But I sup- 
 pose that was a kind of "tenement-house" with several 
 families. Besides the houses, they like to have burrows in 
 the banks, and spend part of their time in each. The 
 young beavers live at home for about two years before they 
 go to housekeeping for themselves. They are queer little 
 things, and their cry is like that of a young child. Mr. 
 Morgan once saw a little beaver in an Indian's house, and 
 it was lapping milk out of a saucer, like a kitten, and an 
 Indian baby was pulling its fur. Then there was a little 
 cry, and Mr. Morgan thought it was the Indian baby, till 
 he found it was the baby beaver. 
 
 10. It has always been an interesting question for natu- 
 ralists how the beaver learns to build. Does he learn it 
 by observing his parents, or would he know how to do it if 
 he were brought up alone ? Buff on, a great naturalist, 
 thought that it was all learned by observation. So Cuvier, 
 another great naturalist, took a very young beaver and 
 brought him up by hand, apart from all his kind. He 
 was fed with branches of willow. He ate the bark, then 
 cut the branches in pieces and piled them up in the corner 
 of the cage. Then they gave him earth, straw, and other 
 branches. They saw him form the earth into lumps with 
 his forefeet. Then he pushed these lumps together with 
 his mouth and chin, and piled them, with the straw and 
 branches, into a solid mass. This shows that an instinct 
 taught the little beaver to build, even without any other 
 beaver to set the example. 
 
 11. Now, there are several remarkable things about the 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 321 
 
 instinct of beavers. First, the way they act together in 
 so large a family. Most quadrupeds act singly or in pairs. 
 Then the way they use their judgment in their own aifairs. 
 This is what makes it so hard to tell the difference be- 
 tween what we call instinct and what we call reason. Ani- 
 mals, like beavers, seem really to think and decide, for 
 instance, whether they need a dam, instead of going on 
 blindly and building one whether they need it or not. If 
 the water is already wide and deep enough, they save them- 
 selves the trouble, and live comfortably in their houses, 
 like musquashes. 
 
 12. Then, again, when they are placed in wholly new 
 positions they are said to change their habits altogether. 
 When very hard pressed, they not only do without a dam, 
 but they do without a house, and they live almost alone. 
 On the river Elbe, in Europe, they have ceased to build 
 houses within the last fifty years, and live in holes in the 
 cliffs along the banks of the stream, On the banks of the 
 Rhone, where they are still found, they make holes in the 
 dikes which keep the river from overflowing. So they can 
 not be hunted without destroying the dikes. 
 
 T. W. Higginson. 
 
 ELEPHANTS, AND HOW THEY ARE CAUGHT. 
 
 1. ELEPHANTS, like dogs, show the most intelligence 
 when tamed. Indeed, it is said that out of all the animal 
 world these are the only two creatures that will work in the 
 absence of a master. You know how a dog will carry home 
 a basket or a bundle, and go trotting along without any- 
 body to watch him. It is just so with the elephant. 
 When he has been trained to do a certain work, he will 
 keep at it by himself, and will seem to take as much in- 
 terest in it, and do it as intelligently, as any man would 
 
322 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 do. For instance, when elephants are taught to pile logs 
 in a timber-yard, in the East Indies, they will go on pil- 
 ing without any command from their masters ; and they 
 are taught, when the pile grows high, to lean two logs 
 against it and roll the remaining logs to the top. 
 
 2. I remember a story told by Sir James Tennent which 
 shows this independence of action in the elephant. He 
 says : " One evening, when riding in the vicinity of Kandy, 
 my horse showed some excitement at a noise which ap- 
 proached us in the thick jungle, and which consisted of 
 the ejaculation urmph ! urmph ! in a hoarse and dissatis- 
 fied tone. A turn in the forest explained the mystery, by 
 bringing me face to face with a tame elephant, unaccom- 
 panied by any attendant. He was laboring painfully to 
 carry a heavy beam of timber, which he balanced across his 
 tusks ; but, the pathway being narrow, he was forced to 
 bend his head to one side to permit it to pass endways, and 
 the exertion and inconvenience combined led him to utter 
 the dissatisfied sounds. On seeing us halt, the elephant 
 raised his head, reconnoitered us a moment, then flung 
 down the timber and forced himself backward among the 
 brushwood so as to leave a passage, of which he expected 
 us to avail ourselves. 
 
 3. "My horse still hesitated ; the elephant observed it, 
 and impatiently thrust himself still deeper into the jungle, 
 repeating his cry of urmph! but in a voice evidently meant 
 to encourage us to come on. Still the horse trembled, and 
 being anxious to observe the instinct of the two sagacious 
 creatures, I forbore any interference. Again the elephant 
 wedged himself farther in among the trees, and waited 
 impatiently for us to pass him ; and after the horse had 
 done so, tremblingly and timidly, I saw the wise creature 
 stoop and take up his heavy burden, trim and balance 
 it on his tusks, and resume his route, hoarsely snorting as 
 before." 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 323 
 
 4. Now, almost any trained animal, if left alone to de- 
 cide for himself in such a case, would have put down his 
 load, if he could, and walked away. But how like a faith- 
 ful and industrious man this elephant acted ! As there 
 was no room to pass, he made way, waited for the horse, 
 encouraged him to come on, and then, when he had passed, 
 took up his load again and went along. 
 
 5. But I think the most wonderful manner in which 
 the Asiatic elephants show their intelligence and fidelity 
 is the way the tame animals help to ensnare the wild ones. 
 But for their skill and ingenuity very few elephants would 
 be captured alive. This is the way they do it. When a 
 herd of elephants is to be caught, in Ceylon, the people 
 build an inclosure called a corral. It is made of small 
 trees stuck in the ground and secured by cross-beams. It 
 is an inclosure perhaps five hundred feet long by half that 
 width ; it has only a small opening at one end. 
 
 6. At the opening there is a gate, and from each angle 
 of the end by which the elephants are to approach, two 
 lines of the same strong fencing are continued on each side 
 and cautiously concealed among the trees. Then men go 
 beating through the woods for many miles, driving the ele- 
 phants toward this inclosure, which is easily done, for they 
 are very shy and gentle so long as they are not excited. 
 Sometimes it takes more than a month to bring together 
 forty or fifty elephants in this way, and sometimes two 
 hundred have been caught. At last, when the hunters 
 have them all within the projecting fences, they choose a 
 favorable night and suddenly light a great many fires and 
 torches, discharge guns, beat drums and tom-toms, and try 
 to drive the elephants into the corral. Sometimes the 
 whole herd will break through the fences and get away ; 
 but commonly they are driven by degrees into the corral , 
 
 7. The moment they get inside, the gate is shut, and 
 the hunters immediately surround the corral with torches, 
 
32 J: NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 which they push through the fence at the elephants, if 
 they approach, so that the great creatures are frightened 
 and gradually collect in the middle of the inclosure, form- 
 ing a circle, with their young in the center. Then it is 
 that the wonderful skill and intelligence of the trained 
 elephants are called into use. I will give you an account 
 of this scene, drawn from a description by Sir James Ten- 
 nent, who watched the whole of one of these hunts from a 
 platform built in a tree overlooking the inclosure. 
 
 8. After the herd was all in, the bars which secured 
 the entrance to the corral were cautiously withdrawn, and 
 two trained elephants passed stealthily in, each ridden by 
 his mahout (or driver) and one attendant, and carrying a 
 strong collar formed by coils of rope, made of cocoa-nut 
 fiber, from which hung on either side cords of elk's hide, 
 prepared with a ready noose. With them, and concealed 
 behind them, the head man of the "noosers" crept in, 
 eager to secure the honor of taking the first elephant. 
 
 9. One of the two decoy elephants was of prodigious 
 age, having been in the service of the Dutch and English 
 governments in succession for upward of a century. The 
 other, called by her keeper "Siribeddi," was about fifty 
 years old, and distinguished for her gentleness and docility. 
 She was a most accomplished decoy, and showed the ut- 
 most relish for the sport. Having entered the corral noise- 
 lessly, she moved along with a sly composure and an as- 
 sumed air of easy indifference, sauntering leisurely in the 
 direction of the captives, and halting now and then to pluck 
 a bunch of grass or a few leaves as she passed. 
 
 10. As she approached the herd, they put themselves 
 in motion to receive her, and the leader, having advanced 
 in front and passed his trunk gently over her head, turned 
 and paced slowly back to his dejected companion. Siri- 
 beddi followed with the same listless step, and drew her- 
 self up close behind him, thus affording the nooser an op- 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 325 
 
 portunity to stoop under her and slip the noose over the 
 hind foot of the wild one. The latter instantly perceived 
 his danger, shook off the rope, and turned to attack the 
 man. He would have suffered for his temerity had not 
 Siribeddi protected him by raising her trunk and driving 
 the assailant into the midst of the herd, when the old man, 
 being slightly wounded, was helped out of the corral, and 
 his son Ranghanie took his place. 
 
 11. The herd again collected in a circle, with their 
 heads toward the center. The largest male was singled 
 out, and two tame ones pushed boldly in, one on either 
 side of him, till the three stood nearly abreast. He made 
 no resistance, but betrayed his uneasiness by shifting rest- 
 lessly from foot to foot. Ranghanie now crept up, and, 
 holding the rope open with both hands (its other extremi- 
 ty being made fast to Siribeddi's collar), and watching the 
 instant when the wild elephant lifted his hind foot, he 
 succeeded in passing the noose over its leg, drew it close, 
 and fled to the rear. The two tame elephants instantly 
 fell back, Siribeddi stretched the rope to its full length, 
 and, while she dragged out the captive, her companion 
 placed himself between her and the herd, to prevent any 
 interference. 
 
 12. In order to secure him to a tree, he had to be drawn 
 backward some twenty or thirty yards, making furious 
 resistance, bellowing in terror, plunging .on all sides and 
 crushing the smaller timber, which bent like reeds beneath 
 his clumsy struggles. Siribeddi drew him steadily after 
 her and wound the rope round the proper tree, holding it 
 all the time at its full tension, and stepping cautiously 
 across it when, in order to give it a second turn, it was 
 necessary to pass between the tree and the elephant. With 
 a coil round the stem, however, it was beyond her strength 
 to haul the prisoner close up, which was, nevertheless, neces- 
 sary in order to make him perfectly fast ; but the second 
 
326 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 tame one, perceiving the difficulty, returned from the herd, 
 confronted the struggling prisoner, pushed him shoulder 
 to shoulder and head to head, and forced him backward, 
 while at every step Siribeddi hauled in the slackened rope 
 till she brought him fairly up to the foot of the tree, where 
 he was made fast. A second noose was then passed over 
 the other hind leg and secured like the first, both legs 
 being afterward " hobbled " together by ropes. 
 
 13. The second elephant singled out from the herd was 
 secured in the same manner as the first. It was a female. 
 When the noose was placed upon her forefoot she seized 
 it with her trunk and succeeded in carrying it to her 
 mouth, where she would speedily have severed it had not 
 a tame elephant interfered, and, placing his foot on the 
 rope, pressed it downward out of her jaws. It is strange 
 that in these encounters the wild elephants made no at- 
 tempt to attack or dislodge the mahouts who rode on the 
 tame ones. 
 
 14. The conduct of the tame elephants during all these 
 proceedings was truly wonderful. They seemed to under- 
 stand every movement, both the object to be attained and 
 the means of accomplishing it. They showed the utmost 
 enjoyment in what was going on. Their caution was as 
 remarkable as their sagacity ; there was no hurrying, no 
 confusion, they never ran foul of the ropes, were never in 
 the way of those noosed, and, amid the most violent strug- 
 gles, when the tame ones had frequently to step across the 
 captives, they in no instance trampled on them, or occa- 
 sioned the slightest accident or annoyance. So far from 
 that, they saw for themselves a difficulty or a danger, and 
 tried at once to remove it. In tying up one of the larger 
 elephants, he contrived, before he could be hauled close up 
 to the tree, to walk once or twice round it, carrying the 
 rope with him ; the decoy, perceiving the advantage he 
 had thus gained over the nooser, walked up of her own 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 327 
 
 accord and pushed him backward with her head till she 
 made him unwind himself again, when the rope was hauled 
 tight and made fast. More than once, when a wild one 
 was extending his trunk, and would have intercepted the 
 rope about to be placed over his leg, Siribeddi, by a sudden 
 motion of her own trunk, pushed his aside and prevented 
 him ; and on one occasion, when successive efforts had 
 failed to put the noose over the leg of an elephant which 
 was already secured by one foot, but which wisely put the 
 other to the ground as often as it was attempted to pass 
 the noose under it, the decoy watched her opportunity, 
 and, when his foot was again raised, suddenly pushed in 
 her own leg underneath it and held it up till the noose 
 was attached and drawn tight. 
 
 15. Now, I do not know where you can find such an 
 exhibition of skill as this in any other animal. Of course, 
 the elephants have been trained, in some degree, by their 
 drivers ; but all accounts agree that the chief skill is shown 
 by the animals themselves. They set their brains at work, 
 in order to outwit the brains of the wild elephants. They 
 observe what is needed, and act promptly for themselves, 
 without orders. Think of that great creature, with his 
 heavy foot pushing the rope quickly from the trunk of the 
 other elephant, for fear he should break it in two. Horses 
 and dogs can be trained to do very difficult things, but 
 they do nothing which requires such quickness and fore- 
 sight as this. j w Higginson. 
 
 THE FORCE OF INSTINCT. 
 
 1. A PKETTY little fawn had been brought in very young 
 from the woods, and nursed and petted by a lady in the 
 village until it had become as tame as possible. It was 
 graceful, as those little creatures always are, and so gentle 
 
328 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 and playful that it became a great favorite, following the 
 different members of the family about, caressed by the 
 neighbors, and welcome everywhere. 
 
 2. One morning, after gamboling about as usual until 
 weary, it threw itself down in the sunshine, at the feet of one 
 of its friends, upon the steps of a store. There came along 
 a countryman who for several years had been a hunter by 
 pursuit, and who still kept several dogs ; one of the hounds 
 came with him to the village on this occasion. The dog, 
 as it approached the spot where the fawn lay, suddenly 
 stopped ; the little animal saw him and darted to its feet. 
 It had lived more than half its life among the dogs of the 
 village, and had apparently lost all fear of them ; but it 
 seemed now to know instinctively that an enemy was at 
 hand. In an instant a change came over it ; and the gen- 
 tleman who related the incident, and who was standing by 
 at the moment, observed that he had never in his life seen 
 a finer sight than the sudden arousing of instinct in that 
 beautiful creature. 
 
 3. In a second its whole character and appearance 
 seemed changed, all its past habits were forgotten, every 
 wild impulse was awake ; its head erect, its nostrils di- 
 lated, its eye flashing. In another instant, before the spec- 
 tators had thought of the danger, before its friends could 
 secure it, the fawn was leaping wildly through the street, 
 and the hound in full pursuit. The by-standers were eager 
 to save it ; several persons instantly followed its track, 
 the friends who had long fed and fondled it calling the 
 name it had hitherto known, but in vain. 
 
 4. The hunter endeavored to whistle back his dog, but 
 with no better success. In half a minute the fawn had 
 turned the first corner, dashed onward toward the lake, 
 and thrown itself into the water. But if for a moment the 
 startled creature believed itself safe in the cool bosom of 
 the lake, it was soon undeceived ; the hound followed in 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 329 
 
 hot and eager chase, while a dozen village dogs joined 
 blindly in the pursuit. 
 
 5. Quite a crowd collected on the bank men, women, 
 and children anxious for the fate of the little animal known 
 to them all ; some threw themselves into boats, hoping to 
 intercept the hound before he reached his prey ; but the 
 plashing of the oars, the eager voices of the men and boys, 
 and the barking of the dogs, must have filled the beating 
 heart of the poor fawn with terror and anguish, as though 
 every creature on the spot where it had once been caressed 
 and fondled had suddenly turned into a deadly foe. 
 
 6. It was soon seen that the little animal was directing 
 its course across a bay toward the nearest borders of the 
 forest, and immediately the owner of the hound crossed the 
 bridge, running at full speed in the same direction, hop- 
 ing to stop his dog as he landed. On the fawn swam, as 
 it never swam before, its delicate head scarcely seen above 
 the water, but leaving a disturbed track, which betrayed its 
 course alike to anxious friends and fierce enemies. As it 
 approached the land the exciting interest became intense. 
 The hunter was already on the same line of shore, calling 
 loudly and angrily to his dog, but the animal seemed to 
 have quite forgotten his master's voice in the pitiless pur- 
 suit. The fawn touched the land ; in one leap it had 
 crossed the narrow line of beach, and in another instant it 
 would reach the cover of the woods. The hound followed 
 true to the scent, aiming at the same spot on the shore ; 
 his master, anxious to meet him, had run at full speed, 
 and was now coining up at the most critical moment ; 
 would the dog hearken to his voice, or could the hunter 
 reach him in time to seize and control him ? A shout from 
 the village bank proclaimed that the fawn had passed out 
 of sight into the forest ; at the same instant, the hound, as 
 he touched the land, felt the hunter's strong arm clutching 
 his neck. 
 
330 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 7. The worst was believed to be over; the fawn was 
 leaping up the mountain-side, and its enemy under re- 
 straint. The other dogs, seeing their leader cowed, were 
 easily managed. A number of persons, men and boys, 
 dispersed themselves through the wood in search of the lit- 
 tle creature, but without success ; they all returned to the 
 village, reporting that the animal had not been seen by 
 them. Some persons thought that, after its fright had 
 passed over, it would return of its own accord. It had 
 worn a pretty collar, with its owner's name engraved upon 
 it, so that it could be easily known from any other fawn 
 that might be straying about the woods. 
 
 8. Before many hours had passed, a hunter presented 
 himself to the lady whose pet the little creature had been, 
 and, showing a collar with her name upon it, said that he 
 had been out in the woods, and saw a fawn in the dis- 
 tance ; the little animal, instead of bounding away as he 
 had expected, moved toward him ; he took aim, fired, and 
 shot it to the heart. When he found the collar about its 
 neck he was very sorry that he had killed it. And so the 
 poor little thing died. One would have thought that terri- 
 ble chase would have made it afraid of man ; but no, it 
 forgot the evil and remembered the kindness only, and 
 came to meet as a friend the hunter who shot it. It was 
 long mourned by its best friend. Miss ^ oo er 
 
 CURIOUS FRIENDSHIPS. 
 
 1. WHY married folk, so ill-mated as to agree only to 
 differ, should be said to lead a cat-and-dog life, is not very 
 clear, since those household pets, being intelligent, affec- 
 tionate, cheerful, and sociable creatures, very frequently 
 contrive to live harmoniously enough together. The Aston 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 331 
 
 Hall cat, that ate, associated, and slept with a huge blood- 
 hound, only did what innumerable cats have done. Such 
 companionships are too common to be reckoned among 
 strange animal friendships, such as that most singular in- 
 stance of attachment between two animals of opposite na- 
 tures and habits, related to Mr. Jesse by a person on whose 
 veracity he could depend. The narrator boasted the pro- 
 prietorship of an alligator which had become so tame that 
 it would follow him up and down stairs ; while it was so 
 fond of his cat's society that, when she lay down before 
 the fire, the alligator followed suit, made a pillow of puss, 
 and went off to sleep ; and, when awake, the reptile was 
 only happy so long as puss was somewhere near, turning 
 morose and ill-tempered whenever she left it to its own 
 devices. 
 
 2. Many equine celebrities have delighted in feline com- 
 panions, following in this the example of their notable an- 
 cestor, the Godolphin Arab, between whom and a black cat 
 an intimate friendship existed for years a friendship that 
 came to a touching end ; for when that famous steed died, 
 his old companion would not leave the body, and, when it 
 had seen it put underground, crawled slowly away to a 
 hay-loft, and, refusing to be comforted, pined away and 
 died. 
 
 3. Mr. Huntington, of East Bloomfield, New York, 
 owns a thorough-bred horse named -Narragansett and a 
 white cat. The latter was wont to pay a daily visit to Nar- 
 ragansett's stall, to hunt up the mice and then enjoy a quiet 
 nap. Mr. Huntington removed to Rochester with his fam- 
 ily, leaving the cat behind ; but she complained so loudly 
 and so unceasingly that she was sent on to the new abode. 
 Her first object was now to get somebody to interpret her 
 desires. At last her master divined them, and started off 
 with her to the barn. As soon as they were inside, the cat 
 went to the horse's stall, made herself a bed near his head, 
 
332 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 and curled herself up contentedly. When Mr. Huntington 
 visited the pair next morning, there was puss close to Nar- 
 ragansett's feet, with a family of five beside her. The 
 horse evidently knew all about it, and that it behooved 
 him to take heed how he moved his feet. Puss afterward 
 would go out, leaving her little ones to the care of her 
 friend, who would every now and then look to see how 
 they were getting on. When these inspections took place 
 in the mother's presence, she was not at all uneasy, al- 
 though she showed the greatest fear and anxiety if any 
 children or strangers intruded upon her privacy. 
 
 4. A gentleman in Sussex had a cat which showed the 
 greatest affection for a young blackbird, which was given 
 to her by a stable-boy for food a day or two after she had 
 been deprived of her kittens. She tended it with the 
 greatest care ; they became inseparable companions, and 
 no mother could show a greater fondness for her offspring 
 than she did for the bird. 
 
 5. A pair of carriage-horses taken to water at a stone 
 trough, then standing at one end of the Manchester Ex- 
 change, were followed by a dog who was in the habit of 
 lying in the stall of one of them. As he gamboled on in 
 front, the creature was suddenly attacked by a mastiff far 
 too strong for his power of resistance, and it would have 
 gone hard with him but for the unlooked-for intervention 
 of his stable-companion, which, breaking loose from the 
 man who was leading it, made for the battling dogs, and 
 with one well-delivered kick sent the mastiff into a cooper's 
 cellar, and then quietly returned to the trough and finished 
 his drink. 
 
 6. In very sensible fashion, too, did Mrs. Eland's half- 
 Danish dog Traveler show his affection for his mistress's 
 pet pony. The latter had been badly hurt, and. when well 
 enough to be turned into a field, was visited there by its 
 fair owner' and regaled with carrots and other delicacies ; 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 333 
 
 Traveler, for his part, never failing to fetch one or two 
 windfall apples from the garden, laying them on the grass 
 before the pony, and hailing its enjoyment of them with the 
 liveliest demonstrations of delight. 
 
 7. That such relations should exist between the horse 
 and the dog seems natural enough ; but that a horse should 
 be hail-fellow with a hen appears too absurd to be true ; 
 yet we have Gilbert White's word for it that a horse, lack- 
 ing more suitable companions, struck up a great friendship 
 with a hen, and displayed immense gratification when she 
 rubbed against his legs and clucked a greeting, while he 
 moved about with the greatest caution lest he might tram- 
 ple on his "little, little friend." 
 
 8. Colonel Montagu tells of a pointer which, after be- 
 ing well beaten for killing a Chinese goose, was further 
 punished by having the murdered bird tied to his neck a 
 penance that entailed his being constantly attended by the 
 defunct's relict. Whether he satisfied her that he repented 
 the cruel deed is more than we know ; but after a little 
 while the pointer and the goose were on the best of terms, 
 living under the same roof, feeding out of one trough, oc- 
 cupying the same straw bed ; and, when the dog went on 
 duty in the field, the goose filled the air with her lamenta- 
 tions for his absence. 
 
 9. A New Zealand paper says : " There is a dog at 
 Taupo, and also a young pig, and these two afford a curious 
 example of animal sagacity and confidence in the friend- 
 ship of each other. These two animals live at the native 
 pah on the opposite side of Tapuaeharuru, and the dog 
 discovered some happy hunting-grounds on the other side, 
 and informed the pig. The pig, being only two months 
 old, informed the dog that he could not swim across the 
 river, which at that spot debouches from the lake, but that 
 in time he hoped to share the adventures of his canine 
 friend. The dog settled the difficulty. He went into the 
 
334 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 river, standing up to his neck in water, and crouched 
 down ; the pig got on his back, clasping his neck with his 
 fore legs. The dog then swam across, thus carrying his 
 chum over. Kegularly every morning the two would in 
 this way go across and forage around Tapuaeharuru, re- 
 turning to the pah at night ; and, if the dog was ready to 
 go home before the pig, he would wait till his friend came 
 down to be ferried over. The truth of this story is vouched 
 for by several who have watched the movements of the 
 pair for some weeks past." 
 
 10. Frank Buckland relates : "A gentleman, traveling 
 through Mecklenburg, was witness to a very singular cir- 
 cumstance in a village post-house. After dinner the land- 
 lord placed on the floor a large dish of soup, and gave a 
 loud whistle. Immediately there came into the room a 
 mastiff, a fine Angora cat, an old raven, and a remarkably 
 large rat with a bell about its neck. They all four went 
 to the dish, and, without disturbing each other, fed together, 
 after which the dog, cat, and rat lay before the fire, while 
 the raven hopped about the room. The landlord, after ac- 
 counting for the familiarity which existed among these ani- 
 mals, informed his guest that the rat was the most useful 
 of the four, for the noise he made had completely freed the 
 house from the other rats and mice with which it had pre- 
 viously been infested." 
 
 11. In 1822 some white rats were trapped in Colonel 
 Berkeley's stables. Mr. Samuel Moss, of Cheltenham, took 
 a fancy to a youngster, and determined to make a pet of 
 him. He was soon tamed, and christened Scugg. Then 
 he was formally introduced to a rat-killing terrier, a cere- 
 mony so well understood by Flora that she not only re- 
 frained from assaulting the new-comer, but actually consti- 
 tuted herself his protectress, mounting guard over Scugg 
 whenever a stranger came into the room, growling, snarl- 
 ing, and showing her teeth, until convinced he had no evil 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 335 
 
 intentions toward her protege. These two strangely as- 
 sorted friends lapped from the same saucer, played together 
 in the garden, and, when Flora indulged in a snooze on 
 the rug, Scugg ensconced himself snugly between her legs. 
 He would mount the dinner-table and carry off sugar, pas- 
 try, or cheese, while Flora waited below to share in the 
 plunder. 
 
 12. One day a man brought Mr. Moss another white rat, 
 while the terrier and Scugg were racing about the room. 
 The stranger was shaken out of the trap, and presently 
 two white rats were scampering across the floor, pursued by 
 Flora. The chase did not last long, one of them quickly 
 falling a victim to the terrier's teeth, much to the experi- 
 mentalist's alarm, as his eyes could not distinguish one rat 
 from the other. Looking around, however, his mind was 
 relieved, for there in his corner was Scugg, with Flora 
 standing sentry before him a position she held until the 
 man and the dead rat were out of the room. When his 
 master took a wife to himself, a new home was found for 
 Scugg ; but the poor fellow died within a month of his re- 
 moval, and it is not improbable that the separation from 
 his canine friend was the primary cause of the rat's un- 
 timely decease. 
 
 13. Not long ago, an ailing lioness in the Dublin Zo- 
 ological Gardens was so tormented by the rats nibbling her 
 toes that a little terrier was introduced hxto the cage. His 
 entrance elicited a sulky growl from the invalid ; but, see- 
 ing the visitor toss a rat in the air and catch it with a kill- 
 ing snap as it came down, she at once came to the sensible 
 conclusion that the dog's acquaintance was worth cultivat- 
 ing. Coaxing the terrier to her side, she folded her paw 
 round him and took him to her breast ; and there he rested 
 every night afterward, ready to pounce upon any rat dar- 
 ing to disturb the slumbers of the lioness. 
 
 14. The last time we visited the lion-house of the Re- 
 
336 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 gent's Park Zoological Gardens we watched with no little 
 amusement the antics of a dog, who was evidently quite 
 at home in a cage occupied, by a tiger and tigress. The 
 noble pair of beasts were reclining side by side, the tiger's 
 tail hanging over the side of their couch. The dog, un- 
 able to resist the temptation, laid hold of it with his teeth 
 and pulled with a will ; and, spite of sundry gentle re- 
 monstrances on the part of the owner of the tail, persisted 
 until he elicited a very deep growl of disapproval. Then 
 he let go, sprang upon the tiger's back, curled himself up, 
 
 and Went off to sleep. Chamber^ Journal. 
 
 THE LION AND THE SPANIEL. 
 
 1. IN the afternoon our company went again to the 
 Tower, to see as well as to hear the recent story of the 
 great lion and the little dog. They found the place 
 thronged, and all were obliged to pay treble prices, on ac- 
 count of the unprecedented novelty of the show ; so that 
 the keeper, in a short space, acquired a little fortune. 
 
 2. The great cage in the front was occupied by a beast 
 who, by way of pre-eminence, was called the king's lion ; 
 and, while he traversed the limits of his straitened domin- 
 ions, he was attended by a small and very beautiful black 
 spaniel, who frisked and gamboled about him, and at times 
 would pretend to snarl and bite at him ; and again the 
 noble animal, with an air of fond complaisance, would hold 
 down his head, while the little creature licked his formida- 
 ble chaps. Their history, as the keeper related, was this : 
 
 3. It was customary for all, who were unable or un- 
 willing to pay their sixpence, to bring a dog or cat as an 
 oblation to the beast in lieu of money to the keeper. 
 Among others, a fellow had caught up this pretty black 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 337 
 
 spaniel in the streets, and he was accordingly thrown into 
 the cage of the great lion. Immediately the little animal 
 trembled and shivered, and crouched, and threw itself on 
 its back, and put forth its tongue, and held up its paws, in 
 supplicatory attitudes, as an acknowledgment of superior 
 power, and praying for mercy. In the mean time the 
 lordly brute, instead of devouring it, beheld it with an eye 
 of philosophic inspection. He turned it over with one 
 paw, and then turned it with the other ; smelled of it, and 
 seemed desirous of courting a further acquaintance. 
 
 4. The keeper, on seeing this, brought a large mess of 
 his own family dinner ; but the lion kept aloof and refused 
 to eat, keeping his eye on the dog, and inviting him, as it 
 were, to be his taster. At length, the little animal's fears 
 being something abated, and his appetite quickened by the 
 smell of the victuals, he approached slowly, and, with trem- 
 bling, ventured to eat. The lion then advanced gently 
 and began to partake, and they finished their meal very 
 lovingly together. 
 
 5. From this day the strictest friendship commenced be- 
 tween them a friendship consisting of all possible affection 
 and tenderness on the part of the lion, and of the utmost 
 confidence and boldness on the part of the dog ; insomuch 
 that he would lay himself down to sleep within the fangs 
 and under the jaws of his terrible patron. A gentleman 
 who had lost the spaniel, and had advertised a reward of 
 two guineas to the finder, at length heard of the adventure, 
 and went to reclaim his dog. You see, sir, said the keeper, 
 it would be a great pity to part such loving friends ; how- 
 ever, if you insist upon your property, you must even be 
 pleased to take him yourself ; it is a task that I would not 
 engage in for five hundred guineas. The gentleman rose 
 into great wrath, but finally chose to acquiesce rather than 
 have a personal dispute with the lion. 
 
 6. As Mr. Felton had a curiosity to see the two friends 
 
 15 
 
338 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 eat together, lie sent for twenty pounds of beef, which was 
 accordingly cut in pieces and given into the cage ; when 
 immediately the little brute, whose appetite happened to 
 be eager at the time, was desirous of making a monopoly 
 of the whole, and, putting his paws upon the meat, and 
 grumbling and barking, he audaciously flew into the face 
 of the lion. But the generous creature, instead of being 
 offended with his impotent companion, started back, and 
 seemed terrified at the fury of his attack ; neither attempt- 
 ed to eat a bit till his favorite had tacitly given permission. 
 7. When they were both gorged, the lion stretched 
 and turned himself and lay down in an evident posture 
 for repose, but this his sportive companion would not ad- 
 mit. He frisked and gamboled about him, barked at him, 
 would now scrape and tear at his head with his claws, and 
 again seize him by the ear and bite and pull away, while 
 the noble beast appeared affected by no other sentiment 
 save that of pleasure and complacence. 
 
 Henry Brooke. 
 
 HOME LIFE OF SCOTTISH DEER. 
 
 1. NEAR Slui, on the Findhorn, there is a range of 
 precipices and wooded steeps crowned with pine, and 
 washed by the clear and rippling stream of the river, 
 through which there is an excellent ford very well known 
 to the roe for escaping to the woods when pressed by the 
 hounds. In this reach is a remarkable crag, a sheer, naked, 
 even wall of limestone, lying in horizontal strata, eighty 
 or ninety feet high. At the eastern extremity of this rock 
 there is a great division, partly separated from the main 
 curtain by a deep, woody slope, which dips into the preci- 
 pice with little more inclination from the perpendicular 
 than to admit of a careful footing. In the face of the di- 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 339 
 
 vided crag, the decomposition of the softer stone between 
 the courses of the strata has wasted it away into narrow 
 galleries, which, passing behind the tall pillars of the pines 
 growing from the rifts and ledges, extend along the face of 
 the precipice, veiled by a deep tapestry of ivy, which spreads 
 over the mighty wall of rock and hangs from shelf to shelf 
 over the covered ways. 
 
 2. Beyond the crags, the bank of the forest, an abrupt 
 steep, covered with oak and copsewood, slopes down to the 
 river, its brow darkened with a deep-blue cloud of pines, 
 and its descent carpeted with moss, primroses, and pyrolas, 
 here and there hollowed into quaint "cuachs," filled with 
 hazels, thorns, and giant pines. Along this woody scarp, and 
 through its thick copse, the roe had made narrow galleries, 
 which communicated with the ivy corridors on the face of 
 the crag, to which there were corresponding ways upon the 
 opposite side. In that fortress of the rock, for shelter 
 from the sun and flies, and seclusion from the stir of the 
 world during the day in the heat of summer, the red deer 
 and roe made their secret haunt, concealed behind the deep, 
 dim veil of leaves, unseen and unsuspected in the cool hol- 
 lows of the cliff. The prying eye might search the crag 
 from below, and the beaters or the woodmen might whistle 
 and whoop and shout above, but nothing appeared or 
 moved except the gray falcon, which rose channering out of 
 the rifts. 
 
 3. Above the crag the wooded bank was so abrupt that to 
 the front view there was no indication of a slope, and any 
 one who passed quickly over the brow was immediately out 
 of sight. At each descent beyond the extremities of the 
 whole range of rocks there was a common roe's run and 
 pass, which was supposed to be "deadly sure" if the deer 
 took the path, since the precipice below was believed to be 
 an infallible barrier against any intermediate escape. Often, 
 however, when pressed upon the terrace above, the deer 
 
340 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 neither went through the passes nor turned against the 
 beaters, but vanished as if by magic nobody could tell 
 where ; and it was the common opinion of the drivers and 
 fishermen that, when forced near the river, they threw 
 themselves over the crags "for spite." The truth was that 
 those which disappeared dashed down the sudden dip of 
 the bank between the precipices, and, turning through the 
 ivy corridors, went out through the copse-galleries upon 
 the other side, and either descended to the water or skirt- 
 ed below the pass, and went back into the forest. 
 
 4. In the same mysterious passages which gave conceal- 
 ment and escape to the stags and bucks the does were used 
 to lie with their fawns, and from thence at morning and 
 evening they brought them out to pluck the tender grass 
 upon the green banks beyond. Often from the brow above, 
 or from behind the ivy screen, we have watched their " red 
 garment " stealing through the boughs, followed by the lit- 
 tle pair drawing their slender legs daintily through the wet 
 dew, and turning their large velvet ears to catch every pass- 
 ing sound upon the breeze as it brought the hum of the 
 water, or the crow of the distant cock now trotting be- 
 fore, now lingering behind their dam, now nestling together, 
 now starting off as the gale suddenly rustled the leaves 
 behind them then listening and reuniting in a timorous 
 plump, pricking their ears and bobbing their little black 
 noses in the wind then, as the doe dropped on her knees 
 in the moss, and laid her side on the warm spot where the 
 morning sun glanced in through the branches, they gam- 
 boled about her, leaping over her back, and running round 
 in little circles, uttering that soft, wild, plaintive cry like 
 the treble note of an accordion, till, weary of their sport, 
 they lay down at her side and slept while she watched as 
 only a mother can. 
 
 5. No marvel it was that they loved that safe and fair 
 retreat, with all its songs and flowers, its plenty and repose. 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 341 
 
 All around was sweet and beautiful and abundant, such 
 as the poetical imagination of the painter can rarely com- 
 pose, and never unless, like Salvator, he has lived in the 
 wilderness with its free denizens. Upon the summit above 
 the crag there was a broad and verdant terrace surrounded 
 by ivied pines and feathering birches, and upon a little 
 green glade in the midst grew two of the most beautiful 
 objects ever produced by art or nature. These were a pair 
 of twin thorns exactly similar in size, age, and form, and 
 standing about three yards from each other, their stems as 
 straight as shafts, and their round and even heads like vast 
 bushes of wild thyme, but each so overgrown with ivy and 
 woodbine that their slender trunks appeared like fretted 
 columns, over which the thorny foliage served as a trellis 
 to suspend the heavy plumes of the ivy and the golden tas- 
 sels of the woodbine. Many a "ladye's bower" we have 
 seen, and many a rich and costly plant reared by the care 
 of man, but none so beautiful as those lonely sisters of the 
 forest, planted by His hand in His great garden, where 
 none beheld but those for whom He made it lovely the 
 ravens of the rock, the deer who couched under its shade 
 by night, and the birds who sang their matins and their 
 even-song out of its sweet boughs. 
 
 6. In these lonely thickets the doe secretes her young, 
 and covers them so carefully that they are very rarely 
 found. There was a solitary doe that I had frequently 
 seen on the hillside, but I was careful not to disturb her 
 haunt. Accordingly, when at evening and morning she 
 came out to pick the sweet herbs at the foot of the brae, 
 or by the little green well in its face, I trod softly out of 
 her sight, and, if I passed at noon, made a circuit from 
 the black willows and thick junipers where she reposed 
 during the heat of the day. 
 
 7. One fine sunny morning I saw her come tripping 
 out from her bower of young birches as light as a fairy, 
 
34:2 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 and very gay and canty. For various mornings afterward 
 I saw her on the bank, but she was always restless and 
 anxious, listening and searching the wind, trotting up and 
 down, picking a leaf here and a leaf there ; and, after her 
 short and unsettled meal, she would take a frisk, round 
 leap into the air, and dart down into her secret bower and 
 appear no more until the twilight. In a few days, how- 
 ever, her excursions became a little more extended, gener- 
 ally to the terrace above the bank, but never out of sight 
 of the thicket below. 
 
 8. At length she ventured to a greater distance, and 
 one day I stole down the brae among the birches. In the 
 middle of the thicket there was a group of young trees 
 growing out of a carpet of deep moss which yielded like a 
 down pillow. The prints of the doe's slender, forked feet 
 were thickly tracked about the hollow, and in the center 
 there was a bed of the velvet " fog," which seemed a little 
 higher than the rest, but so natural that it would not have 
 been noticed by any unaccustomed eye. I carefully lifted 
 the green cushion, and under its veil, rolled close together, 
 the head of each resting upon the flank of the other, nestled 
 two beautiful little fawns, their large velvet ears laid 
 smooth on their dappled necks, their spotted sides sleek 
 and shining as satin, and their little, delicate legs as slender 
 as hazel wands, shod with tiny, glossy shoes, as smooth and 
 black as ebony, while their large, dark eyes looked at me 
 out of the corners with a full, mild, quiet gaze, which had 
 not yet learned to fear the hand of man ; still, they had a 
 nameless doubt which followed every motion of mine, their 
 little limbs shrank from my touch, and their velvet fur rose 
 and fell quickly ; but as I was about to replace the moss, 
 one turned its head, lifted its sleek ears toward me, and 
 licked my hand as I laid their soft mantle over them. 
 
 9. I often saw them afterward when they grew strong, 
 and came abroad upon the brae, and frequently called off 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 343 
 
 old Dreadnought when he crossed their warm track. Upon 
 these occasions he would stand and look at me in wonder, 
 turn his head from side to side, sniff the ground again to 
 see if it was possible that he could be mistaken, and, when 
 he found that there was no disputing the scent, cock one 
 ear at me with a keener inquiry, and, seeing that I was in 
 earnest, trot heavily onward with a sigh. 
 
 Charles Edward Stuart. 
 
 DEER-STALKING IN THE SCOTTISH HIGHLANDS. 
 
 1. ONE beautiful day in early September the old 
 keeper MacLellan and I started for a day's sport in the 
 hills. After about an hour's stalking we came upon the 
 shoulder of a long slope, which looks into the gorges of 
 two or three short glens, opening to a narrow plain, on 
 which we saw a noble sight a herd of four or five hundred 
 deer, among which were many fine stags. After having 
 feasted my eyes with this splendid sight the illustrious 
 cavalry of the hill, the crowned and regal array of the wil- 
 derness I began to calculate how to make the approach, 
 how to slip between the chain of vedette hinds and numer- 
 ous pickets of small stags which commanded almost every 
 knoll and hollow. In the center of the main body, with a 
 large plump of hinds which he herded within a wide 
 vacant circle there was a mighty black hart, with a head 
 like a blasted pine, and a cluster of points in each crown. 
 Though each stag of the surrounding circle had not less 
 than ten points, there was none which approached his 
 size, and they all kept at a respectful distance, while he 
 marched round and round the central group of hinds. 
 " He will have them all in the ring before long," said Mac- 
 Lellan ; " yon's one of the old heroes ; he has not been four- 
 
344: NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 and-twenty hours in the forest. " I looked with an eager 
 and longing eye at his gigantic stature, but there was no 
 apparent possibility of approaching even the outward circle 
 of stags. 
 
 2. The herd was scattered over all the ground between 
 the hills, and every little knoll and eminence had its rest- 
 less pickets, and plumps of discomfited stags, which had 
 been beaten by the great hart, and were chafing about, driv- 
 ing off and prodding the buttocks of all the inferior stags 
 that came in their way, then returning and staring with 
 jealous disgust at the mighty stranger, who gave them no 
 notice, except when one or two more audacious, or less 
 severely beaten, made a few steps before his companions, 
 upon which he immediately charged, drove them before 
 him, and scattered the nearest in every direction. Upon 
 these occasions some hind of greater levity than the rest 
 took the opportunity of extending her pasture, or paying 
 her compliments to her companions, for which she imme- 
 diately received a good prod in the haunch, and was turned 
 back again into the center. 
 
 3. " There is no doing anything there," said I. " 'Deed 
 no," replied MacLellan, shutting up his glass, "we be to 
 go down to the foot of the burn." This was a stream 
 which runs through the middle of the narrow plain and 
 empties itself into the Fidich, about four miles below, at 
 the east end of the forest. Before resolving upon this, how- 
 ever, we made an attempt to cross the little glen to the 
 northwest ; but, after passing round one hill, and nearly 
 to the top of another, we fell in with a small herd of insig- 
 nificant stags, but none among them being worth the dis- 
 turbance of the great herd ; and, being unable to pass them 
 unobserved, we were obliged to adopt the last alternative 
 and descend to the Fidich. In about an hour and a half 
 we performed this retrogration, and, having crossed at the 
 forester's house, ascended the burn till we again approached 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 345 
 
 the deer, and, stealing from knoll to knoll, again came in 
 sight of the herd. The outskirts of its wide circle had been 
 much broken and deranged by the jousts and expulsions 
 during our absence ; and we saw that it was impossible to 
 get near the better stags without taking the channel of the 
 stream. 
 
 4. We immediately descended into the water and crept 
 up the middle, sometimes compelled to crouch so low that 
 the pools reached our hips, and, as the stones were round 
 and slippery, it was very difficult to proceed without floun- 
 dering and splashing. At length, however, we were with- 
 in the circle of the deer ; there was not a breath of wind, 
 and the least sound was audible in the profound stillness. 
 We slipped through the water like eels, till we came to a 
 little rock, which, crossing the burn, made a shelving fall, 
 which there was no means of passing but by drawing our- 
 selves up the shoot of the stream. With some difficulty I 
 pushed my rifle before me along the edge of the bank, and 
 then, while the water ran down our breasts, we glided up 
 through the gush of the stream and reached the ledge 
 above. 
 
 5. The return of the water, which I had obstructed, 
 made, however, a rush and plash different from its accus- 
 tomed monotonous hum, and I had scarce time to lay flat 
 in the burn when a hind sprang up within a few yards 
 and trotted briskly away, then another^ and another. I 
 thought that all was over, and that, in the next moment, 
 we should hear all the clattering hoofs going over the turf 
 like a squadron of cavalry. All remained still, however, 
 and, in a few seconds, I saw the first hind wheel about and 
 look back steadily toward the fall. I was rejoiced to ob- 
 serve that she had not seen us, and had only been disturbed 
 by the unusual sound of the water. She continued, how- 
 ever, anxious and suspicious ; watched and listened ; picked 
 off the tops of the heather ; then walked on, with her ears 
 
34:6 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 laid back, and her neck and step stilting away as stiff as if 
 she had been hung up in the larder for a week. This, 
 however, was not the worst ; all the surrounding hinds 
 which noticed her gait gathered here and there, and stood 
 on the tops of the little knolls, like statues, as straight as 
 pucks, with nothing visible but their narrow necks and two 
 peg-legs, and their broad ears perked immovably toward 
 us, like long-eared bats. 
 
 6. MacLellan gave me a rueful look. "Never mind," 
 said I, "we shall see who will be tired first." The for- 
 ester gave a glance of satisfaction, slid up his glass on the 
 dry bank, and we lay still as the stones around us, till the 
 little trouts, which had been disturbed by our convulsion, 
 became so accustomed to our shapes that they again 
 emerged from under the flat pebbles and returned to their 
 station in the middle of the stream, skulking their little 
 tails between my legs with no more concern than if I had 
 been a forked tree. At length the immobility of the hinds 
 began to give way : first one ear turned back, then an- 
 other, then they became sensible of the flies, and began to 
 flirt and jerk as usual, and finally one applied her slender 
 toe to her ear, and another rubbed her velvet nose upon her 
 knee ; it was more than half an hour, however, before, one 
 by one, they began to steal away, perking and snuffing, and 
 turning to gaze at the least air that whiffed about them. 
 
 7. At length they all disappeared except one gray, 
 lean, haggard old grandmother of hinds, who had no teeth, 
 and limped with one leg, probably from a wound which she 
 received fifty or perhaps a hundred years before I was born. 
 Her vigilance, however, was only sharpened by age ; time, 
 and the experience of many generations, had made her 
 acquainted with all the wiles and crafts of the hill ; her 
 eyes and ears were as active as a kid's, and I have no doubt 
 she could smell like Tobit's devil. MacLellan looked at 
 her through his glass, spit into the burn, and grinned 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 347 
 
 against the sun as if he was lying in the bilboes instead 
 of cold water. The old sorceress continued to watch us 
 without relaxation, and at last lay down on the brow of 
 the knoll and employed her rumination in obstinate con- 
 templation of the bank under which we were ambushed. 
 
 8. There was now no alternative but to recommence our 
 progress up the burn ; and, as I was determined to circum- 
 vent the hind, I prepared for every inconvenience which 
 could be inflicted by the opposite vexations of a sharp, 
 rough, slippery, and gravelly stream. Fortunately, at the 
 place where we then were, it was so narrow that we could 
 hold by the heather on both sides, and thus drag ourselves 
 forward through the water, between each of which advances 
 I pushed my rifle on before me. In this manner we reached 
 the turn of the brook, where I concluded that we should 
 be round the shoulder of the knoll and out of sight of the 
 hind, who lay upon its east brow. This was effected so 
 successfully that, when we looked behind, we only saw her 
 back, and her head and ears still pointing at the spot 
 which we had left. 
 
 9. One hundred yards more would bring us within 
 sight of the great hart. The general position of the herd 
 had not changed, and I hoped to find him near the central 
 knoll of the flat, at the base of which the burn circled. 
 We were almost surrounded by deer ; but the greater num- 
 ber were small, vigilant hinds, the abomination and curse 
 of a stalker. At length, however, we reached the knoll, 
 and rested to take breath at its foot. I examined my rifle, 
 to see that the lock was clean and dry. We took a view of 
 all around us, and, drawing ourselves cautiously out of the 
 burn, slid up through the heather on the south side of the 
 eminence. Scarce, however, had our legs cleared the 
 stream when we discovered a pair of ears not above fifteen 
 yards from the other side. "My curse upon you," whis- 
 pered MacLellan. She had not discovered us, however, 
 
34:8 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 and we glided round the base of the knoll but on the 
 other side lay three hinds and a calf, and I could see no 
 trace of the great hart. 
 
 10. On the edge of the burn, however, farther up, 
 there were five very good stags, and a herd of about thirty 
 deer, on the slope of the north brae. All round us the 
 ground was covered with hinds, for the prevalence of the 
 westerly wind during the last few days had drawn the 
 deer to that end of the forest. Upon the spot where I lay, 
 though I could only see a portion of the field, I counted 
 four hundred and seventy ; and it was evident that no 
 movement could be made upon that side. "We tried again 
 the opposite side of the knoll ; the hind which we had first 
 seen was still in the same place, but she had lain down her 
 head, and showed only the gray line of her back over the 
 heather. We drew ourselves cautiously up the slope and 
 looked over the summit. On the other side there was a 
 small, flat moss, about seventy yards in breadth ; then an- 
 other hillock ; and to the left two more, with little levels, 
 and wet, grassy hollows between them. Upon the side of 
 the first knoll there were two young stags and some hinds ; 
 but the points of some good horns showed above the crest. 
 The intervening ground was spotted with straggling hinds, 
 and we might lay where we were till to-morrow morning 
 without a chance of getting near any of the good deer. 
 
 11. While we deliberated, MacLellan thought that, by 
 crawling with extreme caution up a wet hollow to the left, 
 we might have a chance to approach the stags whose horns 
 we had seen behind the other knoll, and, as nothing better 
 could be done, we decided upon this attempt. The sun 
 was going down from the old towers of Auchandiin, and 
 we had no more time than would give light for this ven- 
 ture. We slid away toward the hollow, and, drawing our- 
 selves inch by inch through the heather and tall, thin grass, 
 had reached the middle of the level between the hillocks, 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 
 
 349 
 
 when we heard a stamp and a short grunt close beside us. 
 I had scarce time to turn my head and catch a glimpse of 
 a base little gray hind, who, in crossing the hollow, had 
 stumbled upon us. It was but a moment ; a rapid wheel 
 
 The Stag. 
 
 and rush through the long grass, and I heard the career of 
 a hundred feet going through the hollow. I sprang on 
 my knee, and scare a dozen small stags and hinds which 
 came upon us at full speed ; for those behind, not knowing 
 
350 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 from whence came the alarm, made straight for the hill. 
 The herd was now gathering in all directions, charging, 
 flying, reuniting, dispersing, and reassembling in utter 
 disorder, like a rout of cavalry. 
 
 12. I made a run for the middle knoll ; two stags with 
 pretty good heads met me right in the face. I did not 
 stop to look at them, but rushed up the brae. What a 
 sight was seen from its top ! Upward of six hundred deer 
 were charging past, before, behind, around, in all directions. 
 The stately figure which I sought, the mighty black hart, 
 was slowly ascending an eminence about three hundred 
 yards off, from whence he reconnoitered the ground below, 
 while the disarray of stags and hinds gathered round him, 
 like rallying masses of hussars in the rear of a supporting 
 column. I was so intent looking upon the king of the for- 
 est that I saw nothing else. No other heads, forms, num- 
 bers, took any place in my senses ; all my faculties were on 
 the summit of that height. 
 
 13. At this moment I felt my kilt drawn gently ; I 
 took no notice, but a more decided pull made me look 
 round. MacLellan motioned up the slope, and I saw the 
 points of a good head passing behind a little ridge, about 
 eighty yards away. I looked back at the hart ; he was 
 just moving to the hill. What would I have given to have 
 diminished a hundred and fifty yards of the distance which 
 divided us ! He passed slowly down the back of the emi- 
 nence and disappeared, and the gathering herd streamed 
 after him. The stag whose horns I had seen had come out 
 from behind the ridge, and stood with his broad side toward 
 me, gazing at the herd ; but as they moved away he now 
 began to follow. The disappearance of the great hart and 
 the disappointment of MacLellan recalled me to the last 
 chance. I followed the retreating stag with my rifle, 
 passed it before his shoulder, whiz went the two-ounce ball, 
 and he rolled over headlong in the heath, on the other side 
 
OUR FOUR-FOOTED NEIGHBORS. 351 
 
 of the knoll, which the next stretch would have placed be- 
 tween us. 
 
 14. I looked to the hill above. The whole herd was 
 streaming up the long, green hollow in its west shoulder, 
 headed " by the mighty of the desert." They rounded and 
 passed the brow, and sloped upward on the other side, till 
 the forest of heads appeared bristling along the sky-line of 
 the summit. In a few moments afterward, as the sun was 
 going down upon the far western hills of Loch Duiach, 
 the terrible wide-forked tree came out in the clear eastern 
 sky on the top of the hill, and, crowding after, at least two 
 hundred heads crossing and charging and mingling 
 their polished points flashing in the parting sunbeams, and 
 from many a horn the long streamers of the moss flutter- 
 ing and flying like the pennons and banderoles of lances. 
 The herd continued to file along the ridge of the hill, and, 
 wheeling below the crest, countermarched along the sky- 
 line till their heads and horns slowly decreased against the 
 
 Charles Edward Stuart. 
 
PART XIII. 
 STRANGE ANIMALS AND THEIR WAYS. 
 
 MUSICAL MICE. 
 
 1. IN this country we have several species of wood-mice, 
 often called white-footed mice, that have wonderful musi- 
 cal powers. They are diminutive things, not so large as 
 the house-mouse, their sides are yellowish-brown, the back 
 considerably darker, the abdomen and feet almost snowy- 
 white. Their home is the woods. With but little sympa- 
 thy for man, they will occasionally intrude for a time into 
 his dwelling, when, as I believe, the domestic mouse with- 
 draws. A friend of mine at his Florida home, near St. 
 Augustine, was disturbed at night by what he supposed 
 to be the chirping of birds in the chimney. The mystery 
 was cleared up in an unexpected way. A very small mouse 
 came up from a crevice in the hearth, and, with singular 
 boldness, took position in the middle of the sitting-room 
 floor. Here it sat up on its hind feet, and looked around 
 with the utmost confidence, all the time singing in a low, 
 soft, yet really warbling style. 
 
 2. It paid the penalty of its temerity by being captured. 
 About a month after, this prodigy was intrusted to the 
 custody of the writer. Of course, it came introduced as a 
 "singing house-mouse." What was our astonishment at 
 recognizing in the little stranger a true Hesperomys, and 
 
STRANGE ANIMALS AND THEIR WATS. 353 
 
 no house-mouse at all ! It was one of the wood -mice, and 
 among the smallest of the species. It is a female, and 
 fully grown, yet not so large as a domestic mouse. Every 
 pains was taken to secure the comfort and well-being of my 
 little guest. 
 
 3. And what an ample reward I reaped ! For a con- 
 siderable time she caroled almost incessantly, except when 
 she slept. Day and night she rollicked in tiny song, her 
 best performances being usually at night. To me it was 
 often a strange delight when, having wrought into the 
 late hours, and the weary brain had become so needful and 
 yet so repellent of sleep, I lay down, and gave myself up 
 to listening to this wee songster, whose little cage I had set 
 on a chair by my bedside. To be sure, it was a low, very 
 low, sweet voice. But there was, with a singular weird- 
 ness, something so sweetly merry that I would listen on, 
 and on, until I would fall asleep in the lullaby of my wing- 
 less and quadrupedal bob-o'-link. 
 
 4. The cage had a revolving cylinder or wheel, such as 
 tame squirrels have. In this it would run for many min- 
 utes at a time, singing at its utmost strength. This re- 
 volving cage, although ample as regards room, was not 
 over three and a half inches long and two and a half inches 
 wide. Although I have now been entertained by these 
 pretty little melodies for a year, yet I would not dare rede- 
 scribe them. She had two especially notable performances. 
 I called these roles one the wheel-song) because it was usu- 
 ally sung while in the revolving cylinder, and the other the 
 grand role. A remarkable fact in the latter is the scope of 
 the little creature's musical powers. Her soft, clear voice 
 falls an octave with all the precision possible ; then, at its 
 wind-up, it rises again into a very quick trill on C sharp 
 and D. 
 
 5. Though it be at the risk of taxing belief, yet I must 
 in duty record one of Hespie's most remarkable perform- 
 
354: NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 ances. She was gamboling in the large compartment of 
 her cage, in intense animal enjoyment. She had just woke 
 from a long sleep, and had eaten of some favorite food, 
 when she burst into a fullness of song very rich in its variety. 
 While running and jumping, she caroled off what I have 
 called her grand role ; then, sitting, she went over it again, 
 ringing out the strangest diversity of changes, by an almost 
 whimsical transposition of the bars of the melody ; then, 
 without, for even an instant, stopping the music, she leaped 
 into the wheel, sent it revolving at its highest speed, and, 
 while thus running in the wheel, she went through the 
 wheel-song in exquisite style, giving several repetitions of 
 it. After this, without at all arresting the singing, she 
 returned to the large compartment, sat upright, resumed 
 again the grand role, and put into it some variations which 
 astonished me. 
 
 6. One measure, I remember, was so silvery and soft 
 that I said to a lady who was listening, that a canary able 
 to execute that strain would be almost beyond price. I 
 occasionally detected, what I am utterly unable to explain, 
 a literal dual sound, a sort of rollicking chuckling, very 
 like a boy whistling as he runs, and drawing a stick along 
 the pickets of a fence. So the music went on, as I listened, 
 watch in hand, until actually nine minutes had elapsed. 
 Now, the wonderful fact is, that the rest between the roles 
 was never much more than a second of time ; and during 
 all this singing the muscles could be seen in vigorous 
 action through the entire length of the abdomen. This 
 feat would be impossible to a professional singer ; and the 
 nearest to it that I have heard was the singing of the wild 
 mocking-bird in a grove. ^ Samuel 
 
STRANGE ANIMALS AND THEIR WATS. 355 
 
 BATS AND THEIR HABITS. 
 
 1. EXCEPTING the colder regions, all parts of the world 
 are inhabited by bats. There are many kinds, and they 
 often occur in very large numbers. Probably there are 
 very few persons, young or old, who have not seen a bat. 
 Yet, aside from professed naturalists, it is equally probable 
 that there are still fewer who, from direct observation, 
 could give any accurate description of their appearance or 
 their habits, their structure, or their relations with the 
 "birds of the air," or the " beasts of the earth," to both of 
 which bats bear more or less resemblance. 
 
 2. Nor is this strange ; for bats pass the day in caves 
 and deserted buildings, and fly about in pursuit of prey 
 only in the twilight. Much less rapid than that of birds, 
 their flight is so irregular as to render it difficult to follow 
 their course, and in the dusk they are often mistaken for 
 somewhat eccentric members of the swallow family. 
 
 3. Their very aspect is repulsive ; they often emit an 
 unpleasant odor. When taken, they bite so fiercely that 
 we may be thankful that they are no larger, and that, as 
 a rule, they prefer insects to human beings as food. No 
 tiger could be more violent in its demonstrations or more 
 capable of using its only weapons, the sharp, almost needle- 
 like eye-teeth. 
 
 4. We may as well state at once that a bat is really a 
 mammal ; that is, it agrees with moles, rats, sheep, horses, 
 cats, monkeys, and men, in bringing forth its young alive, 
 and nursing them by milk ; in having red blood-corpus- 
 cles, which contain no nucleus ; in being clothed with hair ; 
 and in possessing a corpus callosum- that is, a band of fibers 
 connecting the two cerebral hemispheres. There are other 
 anatomical features which link the bats closely with the 
 moles and shrews and hedgehogs. Indeed, the bat might 
 
356 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 be described as a flying mole, or the mole as a burrowing 
 bat. 
 
 5. When I was a boy, one of our common bats flew into 
 the house one evening and was caught under a hat. It 
 squeaked and snapped its little jaws so viciously that all 
 efforts toward closer acquaintance were postponed until 
 morning. When uncovered the next day it seemed as fierce 
 as before, but less active in its movements, probably over- 
 powered by the glare of daylight. When touched, its jaws 
 opened wide, the sharp teeth were exposed, and from its 
 little throat came the sharp steely clicks so characteristic 
 of our bats. 
 
 6. Nor did this fierce demeanor soften in the least dur- 
 ing the day, and when night approached I was about to 
 let it go, but the sight of a big fly upon the window sug- 
 gested an attempt to feed the captive. Held by the wings 
 between the points of a pair of forceps, the fly had no 
 sooner touched the bat's nose than it was seized, crunched, 
 and swallowed. The rapidity of its disappearance accorded 
 with the width to which the eater's jaws were opened to 
 receive it, and, but for the dismal crackling of skin and 
 wings, reminded one of the sudden ingulf ment of beetles 
 by a hungry young robin. 
 
 7. A second fly went the same road. The third was 
 more deliberately masticated, and I ventured to pat the 
 devourer's head. Instantly all was changed. The jaws 
 gaped as if they would separate, the crushed fly dropped 
 from the tongue, and the well-known click proclaimed a 
 hatred and defiance which hunger could not subdue nor 
 food appease. So at least it seemed, and I think any but a 
 boy-naturalist would have yielded to the temptation to fling 
 the spiteful creature out of the window. Perhaps, too, a 
 certain obstinacy made me unwilling to so easily relinquish 
 the newly formed hope of domesticating a bat. At any 
 rate, another fly was presented, and, like the former, 
 
STRANGE ANIMALS AND THEIR WATS. 357 
 
 dropped the moment my fingers touched the head of the 
 bat. With a third I waited until the bat seemed to be ac- 
 tually swallowing, and unable to either discontinue that 
 process or open its mouth -to any extent. 
 
 8. Its rage and perplexity were comical to behold, and, 
 when the fly was really down, it seemed to almost burst 
 with the effort to express its indignation. But this did not 
 prevent it from falling into the same trap again ; and, to 
 make a long story short, it finally learned by experience 
 that, while chewing and swallowing were more or less in- 
 terrupted by snapping at me, both operations were quite 
 compatible with my gentle stroking of its head. And even 
 a bat has brains enough to see the foolishness of losing a 
 dinner in order to resent an unsolicited kindness. 
 
 9. In a few days the bat would take flies from my fin- 
 gers ; although, either from eagerness or because blinded by 
 the light, it too often nipped me sharply in its efforts to 
 seize the victim. Its voracity was almost incredible. For 
 several weeks it devoured at least fifty house-flies in a day 
 (it was vacation, and my playmates had to assist me), and 
 once disposed of eighty between daybreak and sunset. 
 This bat I kept for more than two months. It would shuf- 
 fle across the table when I entered the room, and lift up its 
 head for the expected fly. When traveling it was carried 
 in my breast-pocket. In the fall it died, either from over- 
 eating or lack of exercise, for I dared not let it out of doors, 
 and it was so apt to injure itself in the rooms that I seldom 
 allowed it to fly. I should add that it drank frequently 
 and greedily from the tip of a camel's-hair pencil. The 
 following bits of bat biography are from White's " Natural 
 History of Selborne " : 
 
 10. " Having caught a lively male specimen of the 
 common ' long-eared bat ' and placed the little fellow in a 
 wire-gauze cage, and inserted a few large flies, he was soon 
 attracted by their buzz, and, pricking up his ears (just as a 
 
358 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 donkey does), he pounced upon his prey. But, instead of 
 taking it directly into his mouth, he covered it with his 
 body and beat it by aid of its arms, etc., into the bag 
 formed by the interfemoral membrane. He then put his 
 head under his body, withdrew the fly from the bag, and 
 devoured it at leisure. 
 
 11. " This appeared to be always the modus operandi, 
 more or less cleverly performed. Several times, when the 
 fly happened to be on the flat surface of the ground, the 
 capture appeared more difficult, and my little friend was, 
 by his exertions, thrown on his back. The tail could then 
 be seen turned round, with its tip and the margin of the 
 membrane pressed against the stomach, forming a capital 
 trap, holding the fly, the captor remaining on his back till 
 he had withdrawn the fly from the bag." 
 
 Professor Burl G. Wilder. 
 
 THE LEMMING AND ITS MIGRATIONS. 
 
 1. THE Norway rat, of which we wish to say a few 
 words, is the lemming, a species of the mouse-tribe, some- 
 what smaller than the Guinea-pig, to which in form it 
 bears a considerable resemblance, only the head and body 
 are flatter. Its length is about six inches, of which the 
 short stump of a tail forms half an inch. It is black in 
 color, mottled with tawny spots, which vary in their dis- 
 position in different individuals, and the belly is white, 
 with a slight tinge of yellow. The fore legs are short and 
 strong, and the hind legs are nearly one half longer than 
 the former, enabling it to run with considerable speed. 
 The feet are armed with strong hooked claws, five in num- 
 ber, enabling it to burrow in the earth, and among the 
 frozen snows of its native region. 
 
STRANGE ANIMALS AND THEIR WATS. 359 
 
 2. Its cheeks are blanched, and it sports a pair of long, 
 light whiskers, and its eyes, though small, are beautifully 
 black and piercing. The lip is divided, and the ears are 
 small and sharply pointed. As its home borders on the 
 region of eternal snow, in the valleys of the Kolen Mount- 
 ains, which separate Sweden from Nordland, its hair is 
 both thick and soft, and becomes almost white during the 
 long and cheerless winter of these inhospitable regions. 
 The skin is much thinner than in any of its congeners. 
 
 The Lemming, or Norway Hat, 
 
 When enraged, it gives utterance to a sljarp yelp, similar 
 to that of a month-old terrier- whelp. 
 
 3. It is a lively little fellow, when met with in its na- 
 tive haunts during the short summer now sitting on its 
 haunches nibbling at a piece of lichen, or the catkins of 
 the birch, which it conveys to its mouth with its fore paws, 
 after the manner of the squirrel, or engaging in a romp 
 with its fellows, popping in and out of its burrow in the 
 earth, where it sleeps and rears its young, of which the fe- 
 male has two or three litters annually, numbering from five 
 
360 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 to seven in each. It is a most audacious little fellow, and 
 fears neither man nor beast, refusing to give way save on 
 the compulsion of superior force. Travelers speak of hav- 
 ing seen them frisking about in hundreds in their native 
 forests, when they dispute the path even with man. 
 
 4. From the vantage-ground of the mounds of earth at 
 the entrance to their burrows they sit on their beam-ends 
 and scan the intruders with comical gravity. If the trav- 
 eler has a dog with him, unhappily ignorant of the ways 
 of this cool and impudent varmint, he will likely advance 
 with the easy nonchalance of his tribe to smell the odd 
 little animal which betrays no fear at his approach to 
 be rewarded by a sharp and trenchant bite on the nose, a 
 reception so sudden and unexpected that it is ten chances 
 to one against his prosecuting his investigations further, 
 for a dog is too well bred to attack any strange living ob- 
 ject which awaits his approach. 
 
 5. The lemming multiplies so rapidly that in the course 
 of ten or twelve seasons food becomes scarce, and, on the 
 approach of some winter, when the food-question has be- 
 come one of life or death, the overstocked market is re- 
 lieved by an expedient unparalleled in its nature among four- 
 footed animals. This singular little creature is so local in 
 its habits that, unless under the circumstances we are about 
 to narrate, it never leaves the mountain region to establish 
 itself on the plains, where food is more abundant. 
 
 6. When the time for the settlement of the question of 
 partial extermination for the benefit of the race, or total 
 extermination by starvation, can no longer be delayed, 
 they assemble in countless thousands in some of the mount- 
 ain valleys leading into the plains, and, the vast army of 
 martyrs being selected, they pour across the country in a 
 straight line, a living stream, often exceeding a mile in 
 length and many yards in breadth, devouring every green 
 thing in their line of march, the country over which they 
 
STRANGE ANIMALS AND THEIR WAYS. 361 
 
 have passed looking as if it had been plowed, or burned 
 with fire. They march principally by night, resting during 
 the day, but never seek to settle in any particular locality, 
 however abundant the food may be in it, for their final 
 destination is the distant sea, and nothing animate or in- 
 animate, if it can be surmounted, retards the straight, on- 
 ward tide of their advance. 
 
 ?. When the reindeer gets enveloped in the living 
 stream, they will not even go round its limbs, but bite its 
 legs until, in its agony and terror, it plunges madly about, 
 crushing them to death in hundreds, and even killing them 
 with its teeth. If a man attempts to stem the living tor- 
 rent, they leap upon his legs ; and, if he lay about him 
 with a stick, they seize it with their teeth, and hold on to 
 it with such determined pertinacity that he may swing it 
 rapidly round his head without compelling them to loosen 
 their hold. If a corn- or hay-rick be in the way, they eat 
 their way through it ; and, on arriving at the smooth face 
 of a rock, they pass round it, forming up in close column 
 again on the other side. Lakes, however broad, are boldly 
 entered, and the passage attempted ; and rivers, however 
 deep and rapid, are forded, impediments in the water being 
 as boldly faced as those on shore. They have been known 
 to pass over a boat, and to climb on to the deck of a ship, 
 passing, without stop or stay, into the water on the farther 
 side. 
 
 8. Their natural instincts are not in abeyance during 
 this migration, as females are frequently seen accompanied 
 by their young, and carrying in their teeth some one which 
 had succumbed to the fatigues of the march, which might 
 not be stayed until the helpless one was recruited. 
 
 9. Foxes, lynxes, weasels, kites, owls, etc., hover on 
 their line of march and destroy them in hundreds. The 
 fish in the rivers and lakes lay a heavy toll upon them, and 
 vast numbers are drowned, and die by other accidents in 
 
 16 
 
362 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 " flood and field " ; but the survivors, impelled by some ir- 
 resistible instinct, press onward with no thought of stop- 
 ping, until they lose themselves in the sea, sinking in its 
 depths, as they become exhausted, in such numbers that 
 for miles their bodies, thrown up by the tide, lie putrefy- 
 ing on the shore. Comparatively few ever return to their 
 native haunts, but there can be no doubt that some do so, 
 as they have been seen on the return, pursuing their back- 
 ward journey in the same fearless and determined manner 
 as their advance. Temple Bar 
 
 THE COATI-MONDI. 
 
 1. SAILORS from South America occasionally, among 
 other pets, bring a small animal, which, because of its long 
 nose, they invariably call an ant-eater. Thus was a little 
 stranger introduced to our care a few years ago. A glance 
 was enough to see that it was no ant-eater at all, but a 
 pretty female coati-mondi. Gallant Jack Tar, her master 
 on ship, unconscious of the incongruity, had made a name- 
 sake of her, and called her Jack. Science had already 
 named her Nasua, and in a matter-of-fact way, for the 
 word interpreted just means Nosie. The animal was 
 about the size of a cat, with a thick, coarse fur, of a brown- 
 ish hue on the back and sides, and underneath shades from 
 yellow to orange. The long tail was ornamented by a se- 
 ries of black and yellowish- brown rings. 
 
 2. Her nasal prominence reminded me of a queer Span- 
 iard, once employed in the government service to detect 
 spurious coin. His " counterfeit detector " was a sensitive 
 proboscis. By sticking this organ into the glittering heaps, 
 he literally " nosed " out the bad from the good. To that 
 man his nose was the instrument of his profession ; and to 
 Nasua her nose was equally important. It even prompted 
 
STRANGE ANIMALS AND THEIR WAYS. 363 
 
 a nick-name and a juvenile pun " Nosie's nose knows 
 too much ! " Inappeasably inquisitive, she was incessantly 
 intruding that organ into everything. Having made no 
 allowance for an extra-tropical temperature, this little South 
 American made a failure in an attempt to lift with her 
 nose the lid of a pot in the cook's domain. 
 
 3. The next attempt, a successful one, was on the knife- 
 box, whose closely fitting lid was pried open and every ar- 
 ticle inspected, in happy ignorance of the proverb about 
 edged tools. It was enough that anything was hollow to 
 excite her curiosity, which was of a thoroughly simian 
 type. The dinner-bell was turned over ; but, unable to 
 detach the clapper and chain, it was soon abandoned in dis- 
 gust. A round sleigh-bell received more persevering at- 
 tention. Unable to get her nose or paws into the little 
 hole at the side, the clatter within set her wild with excite- 
 ment, and evoked a desperate attack on the little annoy- 
 ance with her teeth. She then gave it up as a bootless job. 
 
 4. A bottle of hartshorn was next made the subject of 
 investigation. We had purposely loosened the cork, and 
 promised ourselves a " nice sell " ; and we got it not Nb- 
 sie. She was not in the least disconcerted by the drug. 
 In fact, she had a strong nose for such things. A man 
 gave her his tobacco-box. Resting it on the floor between 
 her two paws, which possessed uncommon flexibility, she 
 turned it over and over, round and round, exercising alter- 
 nately her nose, claws, and teeth upon it with great energy, 
 but to no avail. It seemed that the smell of its contents 
 infatuated her, as she showed no disposition to stop. The 
 man opened the box for her. She was in rapture. In 
 went the nose, also both front paws. Very soon that won- 
 derfully mobile organ had separated every fiber, so that the 
 mass seemed trebly increased. The same man let her have 
 his dirty pipe, when her velvety nose was instantly squeezed 
 into the rank nicotian bowl. 
 
364 
 
 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 5. It would be wrong to infer that Nasua's prying pro- 
 pensity never got her into trouble. In the following in- 
 stance, speaking metaphorically, she put her foot into it : 
 The old cat had just finished her nap, and was stretching 
 herself, an operation which means that she stood with her 
 four feet close together, the limbs elon- 
 gated, the back rounded up like that of 
 a camel, the head erect and drawn back, 
 and the mouth yawning widely. Such 
 a sight Nosie had never seen, hence it 
 must be looked into. So in a trice, erect, 
 and resting flatly on her hind feet like a 
 little bear, she put her arms round Tab- 
 bie's neck, and, reeking with nicotine, 
 down went that inquisitive nose into the 
 depths of the 
 feline fauces. 
 This unwarrant- 
 able intrusion 
 was met by a 
 reception more 
 feeling than fe- 
 licitous, judging 
 from the haste 
 in which Nasua 
 withdrew to a 
 corner of the 
 room to rumi- 
 nate on the un- 
 toward incident. Her method of relieving the injured 
 member was itself original. She placed it between her 
 paws, holding it tightly, then jerked it through them, 
 giving a violent sneeze every time it came out. That 
 sneezing was genuine, because it was involuntary. Both 
 hartshorn and nicotine had signally failed to get up any- 
 
 Coati-Hondi. 
 
STRANGE ANIMALS AND THEIR WAYS. 365 
 
 thing respectable in that line ; but that cat-nip, pure and 
 simple, did the business finely. 
 
 6. Quite pretty was the pattern of the animal's ears 
 they were so clean, trim, soft, and small. Though rather 
 pert, they had an air about them that was really amiable, 
 and such as the canine fancier would pronounce elegant. 
 She was not averse to a little fondling, and I well remem- 
 ber the first time she climbed upon my lap. Those pretty 
 ears suddenly quivered. The ticking of my watch had ex- 
 cited her. Down goes that ubiquitous utilitarian organ 
 
 Coati-Mondi asleep. 
 
 into the watch-pocket. Failing with the nose, she makes 
 a desperate effort with that and both forefeet all at once. 
 Still unable to evict that case of mystery, she thrusts her 
 nose down by its side, and for several minutes, with simi- 
 an quaintness, listens to the ticking of mortal Time. 
 
 7. In the same manner, though not to the same extent, 
 the nose of the Nasua, like the same organ of the elephant, 
 projects far beyond the mouth. At our first acquaintance 
 with the animal, we were anxious to see if it could drink 
 
366 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 out of a deep, narrow vessel. So a mug, containing about 
 a gill of milk, was set before her. She instantly turned 
 up the proboscis toward her forehead, and, in the easiest 
 way imaginable, lapped the vessel dry. The organ was not 
 even wet. The sight, though comical, was really pretty. 
 It was the only time that I had ever seen the turning up 
 of the nose at one's friends so deftly and gracefully done. 
 And she could turn the same organ in a contrary way quite 
 as easily. 
 
 8. Sometimes for an airing the animal was tied by a 
 long tether to a flower-stand on the lawn. She had nearly 
 all the appetencies of the domestic swine ; and the end of 
 her proboscis was essentially a swine's snout. I now beheld 
 the use of this singularly tipped organ. And an interest- 
 ing sight it was to see that little thing plow up the green- 
 sward with the tip of her nose and so easily. Here ap- 
 peared the veritable swinish acuteness of scent for insects 
 and worms, and the swinish facility for rooting in the 
 ground. With surprising rapidity furrow after furrow was 
 made, of about the width of a man's thumb. Whenever a 
 worm or insect was discovered, as when drinking, the nose 
 was curved up, so that the mouth could extract the object 
 from the furrow. 
 
 9. The tail of Nasua is quite suggestive of the raccoon ; 
 but Nasua's tail is a much handsomer affair longer, and 
 with rings more numerous and of gayer colors. With ad- 
 mirable intelligence, our pet put this beautiful appendage 
 to a remarkable use. She was tethered by a string to a 
 chair, and an egg was put on the floor at a tantalizing dis- 
 tance. She could just touch it with a paw, and that touch 
 caused the coveted prize to roll out of reach. She then 
 turned her hind feet toward it, pulling hard so as to stretch 
 her neck ; still, even with a hind foot she could not touch 
 it. The logic of events was now, " Get it if you can ! " 
 
 10. All this Nasua well understood, for she turned tail 
 
STRANGE ANIMALS AND THEIR WAYS. 367 
 
 on the subject altogether not, however, as did Reynard 
 on the grapes, but strategically. She gathered herself up, 
 and looked at the coveted object with speculative eyes. 
 Then she swung herself round again, pulling hard on the 
 tether by the neck. She then curved the tip of the tail so 
 as to make a little hook. .Now she grasps the base of the 
 tail with one paw, as with a hand, thus stiffening and 
 steadying the organ. She next slowly and cautiously rolled 
 the egg, by the curved tip of the tail, through a section of 
 a circle, until it was brought within reach of one of the 
 front feet. The egg now seized, sitting on her hind feet 
 like a bear, she cracks it, extracts the contents, and nei- 
 ther spills a drop on the floor, nor so much as soils that 
 wonderful nose ; for among her many gifts is her soft and 
 extensile tongue. 
 
 11. A word is necessary as to the peculiar temerity of 
 this animal. From two points it was liable to give way to 
 extreme impulsiveness the excitement of opposition, or of 
 inquisitiveness. If anything attacked her, whatever the 
 object or the odds might be, she would face the assailant, 
 and close in with her shrill little squeaks of rage, and in a 
 wild sort of dash. If one slapped her, whatever might be 
 her terror, she would rush upon and snap at the hand. The 
 dog-like sagacity of running under the table or chair was 
 not her way. Hers was the peccary instinct of running 
 upon danger. No monkey could be a .more importunate 
 or impertinent teaser than was our coati ; but Jocko shows 
 sagacity with his jokes for he always adroitly leaps aside 
 of consequences. 
 
 12. I have watched our pet tease the cat with imper- 
 turbable persistency, until Tabbie, unable to tolerate mat- 
 ters any longer, has struck her sharp claws into that soft 
 proboscis, then moved away, leaving her persecutor dazed 
 with astonishment. Then, in a moment, forgetting all, 
 she would turn her attention to the setter-dog, and, despite 
 
368 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 his growls and menacing teeth, would keep up a systematic 
 worrying catching at his tail, nipping at his legs, and even 
 poking her nose into his ears. At length the poor brute, 
 fairly goaded to rage, seized her like a rat, and, but for my 
 prompt interference, that would have been the last display 
 of Nasua's rashness. 
 
 13. One morning she got into the dining-room as we 
 were at breakfast. She took possession of madam's lap. 
 Her first act was to poke her nose at the coffee-urn. This 
 evoked a squeak of pain. It was supposed that she had 
 had enough. Not quite. Her next essay was on a cup of 
 hot coffee, with a similar result. She now smelt the con- 
 tents of the sugar-bowl. This discovery so excited that 
 " sweet will" of hers that instant removal became impera- 
 tive. 
 
 14. Later in the day she tried to capture a wasp. She 
 struck it down, and held it a second under her foot. This 
 was met by an appeal, addressed solely to her understand- 
 ing, of so pointed a nature as made her chatter with dis- 
 tress. Disabled in one wing, the insect could not fly away. 
 Although still smarting from the wounded foot, the moral 
 of the lesson is only half learned. Coati can not give 
 "little yellow-jacket "up. So she tries the wasp again 
 this time with her nose. Alas, that sting ! Miss Nasua 
 now finds that other little folks besides herself can utilize 
 their tails ; for, in proof of this, she receives not a merely 
 duplicated, but an intensified experience, such as exacts 
 a staccato outgush of agony of truly simian expression. 
 
 15. We can recall but one lesson which she took sin- 
 cerely to heart. The old cow was quietly ruminating near 
 the house. With her usual temerity, for she was always 
 ready to "go it blind," Coati made an attempt to climb 
 one of Cushie's legs. The cow raised her foot to shake the 
 annoyance off, and in setting it down she put her hoof on 
 Nasua's tail, and there standing, gravely ruminating, held 
 
STRANGE ANIMALS AND THEIR WAYS. 369 
 
 her fast to the ground. Her rapid, chattering cry brought 
 one of the ladies to her rescue. The tail was very badly 
 hurt. Ever after, between Coati and Cushie a respectful 
 distance was maintained. R ^ Samud Loclcwood , 
 
 JEMMY. 
 
 1. As company for the monkeys and myself, for many 
 years past I have had a "Jemmy." All my Suricates I 
 call "Jemmys." The Latin name is Suricata Zenick. 
 Jemmy is a very pretty little beast, somewhat like a small 
 mongoose or a very large rat. His head is as like the head 
 of a hedgehog as can be imagined. His color is light 
 brown, with darker stripes down the sides. He is an Afri- 
 can animal, and lives in burrows on the plains, whence he 
 is sometimes called the African prairie-dog, or the meer- 
 catze. Captain Adams tells me that, when in South 
 Africa, he has frequently come across a camp of Jemmys. 
 The plain will appear covered with them, sitting up mo- 
 tionless like so many ninepins ; at the least notice, they 
 simultaneously and in an instant disappear down their 
 holes. 
 
 2. I would like now to say something of the habits of 
 this pretty little fellow. Jemmy the Third (for I have 
 previously had two Jemmys) was allowed the free range of 
 the whole house. He was full of curiosity and restlessness, 
 running continually from one room to another. He very 
 seldom walked ; his pace, on the contrary, was a short 
 gallop, or rather canter. When on the move he always 
 gave tongue, like a hound on a scent. It is impossible to 
 describe his melodious cry in words. When handled and 
 petted he would utter a sharp bark, not unlike that of a 
 dog ; and, if in a very good humor, I could, by imitating 
 
3TO NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 him, make him bark alternately with myself. His great 
 peculiarity was his wonderfully intelligent and observing 
 look. He had the peculiarity also of sitting up on his tail, 
 like a kangaroo ; his fore paws on this occasion were like 
 a dog's when begging. He was very fond of warmth, and 
 would sit up inside the fender and warm himself, occasion- 
 
 The Suricate (Jemmy}. 
 
 ally leaning back against the fender and looking round 
 with the satisfied air of an old gentleman reposing after 
 dinner. When the morning sun came into the room, 
 Jemmy would go and sit in the sunbeams and look out of 
 the window at the passing cabs and omnibuses. When 
 doing this he had a way of turning round very sharply and 
 looking with his little pig's eyes at me and back, as much 
 as to say, " What do you think of that ? " 
 
 3. When breakfast came up he would dance round me 
 on his hind legs, watching for something. I often put 
 him on the breakfast-table ; if I did not put him up he 
 would climb up uninvited. It was very amusing to see him 
 go and smell the egg, and, in his own language, swear at it 
 for being hot. He could not understand its being hot 
 enough to burn his nose ; raw eggs were his special favor- 
 
STRANGE ANIMALS AND THEIR WAYS. 371 
 
 ites. His great delight was to be allowed to upset the 
 sugar-basin, and then scratch about among the lumps of 
 sugar. He was also very fond of cream, and it was most 
 amusing to see him try to get the little drops of cream I 
 had left for him out of the cream-can, as left by the milk- 
 woman. I am obliged to have my cream in this little can, 
 as the cats, marmoset, or something else would be sure to 
 have it before I came down. I placed the cream-can on 
 the floor, and it was fun to see Jemmy try to force it open 
 with his teeth, to get the cream out ; he used quite to lose 
 his patience with this metal cream-can. 
 
 4. After breakfast, Jemmy generally had a stand-up 
 fight with the monkeys. He would inspect (from the out- 
 side) the bottom of the monkey-cage. If he discovered 
 any portion of the monkeys' breakfast which he thought 
 might suit him, he would immediately try to steal it by 
 thrusting his arms through the bur. The monkeys invari- 
 ably resented this indignity. The carroty, old, crippled 
 monkey, Jane, could only make eyes and faces at him. 
 The wicked, impudent "Little Jack" would jump up and 
 down like an India-rubber ball, all the time well inside the 
 cage, where Jemmy could not get at him. When Jemmy 
 was fighting the monkeys, he would stand on his hind legs 
 and show his lovely, white, carnivorous teeth at them, 
 turning up his sharp, mole-like nose in a most contemptu- 
 ous manner, all the time keeping up & continuous bark, 
 into which fun the parrot generally entered and barked like 
 Jemmy also. 
 
 5. One morning, in the middle of the fight, Jemmy 
 forgot himself for the moment in turning round, and gave 
 the ever- vigilant Little Jack a chance. Little Jack seized 
 Jemmy's tail with screams of delight, and pulled him 
 straight up to the bars. Carroty Jane then joined in, and 
 they were getting the best of it, when suddenly Jemmy 
 turned sharp round and made his teeth meet in Little 
 
372 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 Jack's hand. Little Jack skirmished round the cage three 
 or four times on three legs ; then, holding up his wounded 
 hand, gazed mournfully and piteously at it, every now and 
 then leaving off looking to make fiercer faces, and cock his 
 ears at Jemmy. Never since has Little Jack ventured his 
 hands outside the bars when a Jemmy fight came on. 
 
 6. One of the funniest scenes that ever happened with 
 Jemmy was as follows : Some sea-side specimens had been 
 sent me, and among the sea-weed was a live shore-crab 
 about the size of a five-shilling piece. Little " Chick- 
 Chick," the marmoset, who will eat any quantity of meal- 
 worms, blue-bottle flies, etc., came down at once off the 
 mantel-piece and examined Mr. Crab, who was crawling 
 about on the floor. None of my animals had evidently 
 seen a live crab before. The monkeys were very much 
 frightened, and made the same cry of alarm as when I show 
 them a snake or the house-broom. Chick-Chick evidently 
 thought that the crab was a huge insect. The crab put 
 out his two nippers at full length and gave the marmoset 
 such a pinch that he retreated to the mantel-piece, and 
 from this safe height gazed down upon the still threatening 
 crab, uttering loud cries of " Chick, chick, chick ! " alter- 
 nated with his plaintive, bat-like, shrill note. 
 
 7. Presently round the corner comes Mrs. Cat. The 
 cat evidently thought that the crab, which was gently 
 crawling about, was a mouse. She instantly crouched, head, 
 eyes, and ears all intent, as if trying to make up her mind 
 whether the crab was a mouse on which she ought to pounce 
 or not. Hearing the row caused by the crab and marmo- 
 set fight, up comes Jemmy in full cry, with tail cocked 
 well in the air. He also attacked the crab, but could not 
 make head or tail of him. He did not like the smell, still 
 less did he like the sundry nips in the nose that he received 
 from the crab's claws. A grand crab and Jemmy fight, 
 which lasted nearly half an hour, then took place, ending 
 
STRANGE ANIMALS AND THEIR WAYS. 373 
 
 in the discomfiture of the crab, whose carcass the marmoset 
 and the cat, both coming forward, evidently desired to 
 share. Although it was apparent that the taste of the 
 crab was not agreeable to Jemmy's palate, yet he gradually 
 ate him up claws, shells, and all simply to prevent the 
 other animals from getting a single bit. 
 
 8. Jemmy has teeth half carnivorous, half insectivorous. 
 When he is at home in Africa he lives upon mice, beetles, 
 etc. He probably digs these creatures out of the ground, 
 for, whenever he sees a crack in the floor, or a hole in a 
 board, he will scratch away at it, as though much depended 
 upon his exertions. When he is fed, it is curious to ob- 
 serve how he always pretends to kill his food before eating 
 it. He invariably retreats backward while he is scratching 
 and biting at his supposed lively food. The living food 
 evidently is in the habit of escaping forward. Mr. Jemmy 
 takes good care that he shall not do so, by scratching in- 
 cessantly in a backward direction. 
 
 9. The cat's-meat man comes punctually every day at 
 half-past one; when the cats hear the cry "meat," they 
 rush down into the area, and Master Jemmy, seeing them 
 bolt, would run also, his object being to steal the ration of 
 meat from one of the cats. By instinct or experience he 
 had somehow found out that the cat's claws are very sharp, 
 and whereas his mode of attack upon the monkey was face 
 to face, the monkeys being clawless, he .attacked the cats 
 by ruffing his hair up and pushing himself backward. 
 
 10. The cat, annoyed by being disturbed at dinner, 
 would leave off eating and strike sharply at Jemmy with 
 her paw ; that was his opportunity. In a moment he 
 would seize the cat's meat and bolt with it, but by a most 
 peculiar method, for when within striking distance of the 
 cat's paw he would turn round and back up to the cat's 
 face, and, directly she struck at him, he caught the blow 
 on the back ; then he would put his nose down through his 
 
374 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 fore legs, and through the hinder ones, and have the meat 
 in a moment, leaving the cat wondering where it was gone. 
 Jemmy had by this time taken it into a place of safety. 
 Under the table in Mr. Searle's office there is just room for 
 him to crawl ; here the angry cat could not, of course, fol- 
 low him. In this retreat he would finish up what he had 
 stolen, and then emerge licking his lips, and probably 
 laughing to himself at the disappointed face of the cat. 
 
 11. Jemmy was always fond of getting under anything 
 or in any kind of hole, and his great delight was to get 
 into a boot, and when he got to the end, scratching it as 
 though he wanted to get farther into the burrow. Fre- 
 quently I found my boots going round the room, propelled, 
 apparently, by some internal machinery. This machinery 
 was Master Jemmy. Jemmy was a greedy little fellow. 
 John could not bring up any kind of food into my room 
 without Jemmy. He would watch the cook broiling the 
 chop down stairs, and, when John brought it up, would fol- 
 low close to his heels, and what between Jemmy's pretty, 
 begging manner, the monkey's plaintive cries, and the par- 
 rot's demand, it often happens that I get very little of the 
 
 ch P- Frank Buckland. 
 
 THE AARD-VARK. 
 
 1. THIS animal, known in science as the orycteropus, 
 belongs to the order Edentata, or insect-eaters. It is a na- 
 tive of South Africa, and is called by the Dutch settlers 
 the aard-vark, or earth-hog. It is of heavy build, with 
 arched back, like a pig, which animal it further resembles 
 in that its skin is sparsely strewed with hairs. But its 
 very long ears, instead of being pendent like those of the 
 pig, rise like horns on both sides of the head. Neither is 
 the tail slender or twisted into a corkscrew curl ; on the 
 
STRANGE ANIMALS AND THEIR WAYS. 375 
 
 contrary, it is of conical shape, and very thick at the base. 
 Finally, the rather elongated head, terminating in a regular 
 snout, has at its extremity a buccal opening rather larger 
 than in the ant-eater, but yet far smaller than in swine. 
 
 2. The teeth, numbering five or six pairs in the lower 
 jaw and six or seven in the upper, increase in size from the 
 first to the one before the last on each side. Their struc- 
 ture is peculiar, being far less dense than in most mamma- 
 lia, and having no coating of enamel. The grinding surface 
 is flattened, and the single root is pierced with a number of 
 holes in its periphery. The slender, protractile tongue is, 
 as in nearly all of the Edentata, covered with a viscous sub- 
 stance, designed to secure the small insects on which the 
 animal lives. The short, heavy feet terminate, the anterior 
 in four digits, the posterior in five, all armed with strong, 
 hoof-like claws. In the posterior feet, as in the anterior, 
 the external lateral digits are a little shorter than the 
 others. 
 
 3. It will be seen that the body is swollen like a full 
 skin-bottle, and furrowed with creases which radiate from 
 the abdominal region between the paws. The latter are of 
 enormous size, and the tail, which is soft and flabby, falls 
 to the ground by its own weight. The general appearance 
 of the animal is at once mean and grotesque. Looked at 
 from behind, it resembles a bag, the long ears projecting 
 on each side being the ends of the string by which the 
 mouth of the bag is tied. 
 
 4. This orycteropus lives in pairs in the plains of Kor- 
 dofan, where it is called by the Arabs abudelatif, i. e., 
 "the father that owns claws." In the daytime it lies hid- 
 den and doubled up in a deep hole, which it digs in the 
 loose soil of the plain by means of its broad, sharp claws. 
 Toward evening it quits this hiding-place and begins to 
 move about, advancing either by leaps, or else with an un- 
 steady gait, walking nearly always on the extremities of its 
 
376 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 digits. Whatever may have been written heretofore by 
 naturalists, the orycteropus is in fact digitigrade rather 
 than plantigrade. When the animal is walking, the head 
 is inclined, the snout nearly touching the ground, the ears 
 laid half-way back, and the tail trailing. From time to 
 time the animal stops to listen ; it is guided principally by 
 hearing and smell, and by the same means contrives to es- 
 cape from its enemies. 
 
 5. On finding a path that has been traveled over by 
 ants or termites, it follows it up to the ant-hill ; having 
 reached the latter, it attacks the structure with its paws, 
 making the dust fly all around, and digging rapidly till it 
 
 The Aard^ Vark. 
 
 comes to the center, or at least to one of the principal 
 streets. Then, alternately exserting and retracting its 
 viscous tongue, it devours the ants by the thousands. 
 Having made an end of one nest, it attacks another, and so 
 on till its hunger is appeased. When we consider the 
 alarming rate at which ants and termites multiply, and the 
 damage they cause, we must recognize in the orycteropus 
 one of the most efficient of man's auxiliaries in tropical re- 
 gions. 
 
 6. The orycteropi are extremely timid : at the slightest 
 noise they try to get under ground. If they find no suitable 
 hole or crevice, then they quickly dig for themselves a hid- 
 ing-place. The late J. Verreaux, who had many a time 
 
STRANGE ANIMALS AND THEIR WAYS. 377 
 
 observed orycteropi at the Cape, lias told me of how, hav- 
 ing once seized by the tail one of them when it had got 
 but half of its body under ground, he could not get the ani- 
 mal out except by having the ground dug to a considerable 
 depth. In eastern Africa the negroes, approaching cau- 
 tiously, kill the orycteropus by a sudden thrust of a lance 
 before it has time to disappear. In Senegal, on the other 
 hand, the animal *is caught in iron traps, or hunted with 
 dogs by night. The skin of the animal is thick, and makes 
 good, strong leather. The flesh is by some travelers de- 
 scribed as juicy, with a taste like that of pork ; according 
 to others it is disgusting, being strongly impregnated with 
 ant-odor. From the Frem]l O ~ Oustalct 
 
 THE ORNITHORHYNCHUS. 
 
 1. THE discoverers of Australia and New Zealand, and 
 the early voyagers who visited those regions, brought back 
 marvelous accounts of the curious plants, animals, and 
 birds which they found there. The objects described so 
 differed from those known in the northern hemisphere 
 that the stories were usually regarded as of the Munchausen 
 order, resulting from an imperfect observation united with 
 a very lively imagination, or from a deliberate effort to de- 
 ceive. As these regions have become better known, the 
 veracity of the old navigators has been completely vindi- 
 cated, and it has been found that the half was not told. 
 Most of living organisms, both vegetable and animal, seem 
 constructed upon a different plan from those we are accus- 
 tomed to see, and science shows that they are more nearly 
 akin to the extinct forms of the old geological ages than 
 to the present flora and fauna of the great continents. 
 
 2. In some specimens of animal life there is such a 
 
378 
 
 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 strange mixture of different species, and sometimes of dif- 
 ferent orders a mixture of beast, bird, reptile, and fish 
 that it would seem as if Nature, in a jocose mood and with 
 a broad grin upon her countenance, had purposely formed 
 living conundrums to excite curiosity and prove the de- 
 spair of science. Some of these strange forms are ranked 
 as beasts and some as birds, as the mixed characteristics 
 predominate in one direction or the other 1 . 
 
 3. One of these creatures is ranked as a mammal, and is 
 familiarly called the duck-bill. In science it is known as 
 
 The Ornithorhynchus. 
 
 the ornithorhynchus, or the beast with a bill, and it is cer- 
 tainly a marvel in structure and habits. It has a broad, 
 flat body, with four short legs, the feet terminating in five 
 toes armed with sharp claws, and is about the size of a 
 woodchuck. It is clothed with a coat of fine fur, dark 
 brown above and whitish below. Its young are born blind, 
 like puppies, and are nourished with milk. It burrows in 
 the river-banks and forms nests of the roots of trees, and 
 
STRANGE ANIMALS AND THEIR WAYS. 379 
 
 it can walk and run rapidly on the land and climb trees. 
 So far, it is quite like many of the mammals. 
 
 4. Its toes are webbed, and, when spread out, the mem- 
 brane reaches beyond their extremities. Its tail is broad 
 and flat, serving as a rudder in the water. But its most 
 peculiar feature is a broad, flat bill, which gives to it its 
 popular name of duck-bill. Its bony structure is a cross be- 
 tween a reptile and a bird, and its internal organs are mostly 
 those of a bird. It swims and dives readily, and feeds 
 upon the worms and insects which it turns up at the bot- 
 tom after the manner of a duck. When standing upon its 
 hind legs, with its short fore legs drawn in toward its breast, 
 it resembles the penguin. In these particulars it is most 
 like a bird. 
 
 5. It is cleanly, and is fond of warmth and dryness. 
 It is nocturnal in its habits, lying in its nest rolled up 
 like a ball during the day, and coming out at night in 
 search of food. It can remain under water seven or eight 
 minutes at a time. In one particular it is unlike any 
 other animal known ; the mother emits her milk in the 
 water, and this rises to the surface, where it is sucked up 
 by the young ones. 
 
 6. Its activities are as paradoxical as its structure. It 
 can crawl like a tortoise, run like a badger, swim like a 
 fish, dive like a duck, dig like a mole, and climb like a 
 squirrel. In both structure and habit it is clearly a survi- 
 val of forms which once existed all over 'the surface of the 
 earth, but which are now elsewhere extinct ; and it may 
 justly be regarded as a living link connecting the present 
 with the long past. 
 
380 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 GRIZZLY. 
 
 1. COWAKD of heroic size, 
 In whose lazy muscles lies 
 Strength we fear and yet despise ; 
 Savage whose relentless tusks 
 Are content with acorn-husks ; 
 Robber whose exploits ne'er soared 
 O'er the bee's or squirrel's hoard ; 
 Whiskered chin and feeble nose, 
 Claws of steel on baby toes 
 Here, in solitude and shade, 
 Shambling, shuffling plantigrade, 
 Be thy courses undismayed. 
 
 2. Here, where Nature makes thy bed, 
 Let thy rude, half-human tread 
 
 Point to hidden Indian springs, 
 Lost in ferns and fragrant grasses, 
 
 Hovered o'er by timid wings, 
 Where the wood-duck lightly passes, 
 Where the wild bee holds her sweets 
 Epicurean retreats, 
 Fit for thee, and better than 
 Fearful sports of dangerous man. 
 
 3. In thy fat-jowled deviltry 
 Friar Tuck shall live with thee. 
 Thou mayst levy tithe and dole ; 
 
 Thou shalt spread the woodland cheer, 
 From the pilgrim taking toll ; 
 
 Match thy cunning with his fear ; 
 Eat and drink, and have thy fill, 
 Yet remain an outlaw still ! 
 
 Bret ffarte. 
 
PART XIV. 
 FOUR-HANDED FOLKS. 
 
 HOUSEHOLD PETS IN TRINIDAD. 
 
 1. THE queen of all the pets is a black and gray spider- 
 monkey from Guiana, consisting of a tail which has devel- 
 oped, at one end, a body about twice as big as a hare's ; 
 four arms (call them not legs), of which the front ones have 
 no thumbs, nor rudiments of thumbs ; a head of black 
 hair, brushed forward over the foolish, kindly, greedy, sad 
 face with its wide, suspicious, beseeching eyes ; and a mouth 
 which, as in all these American monkeys, as far as we 
 have seen, can have no expression, not even that of sen- 
 suality, because it had no lips. Others have described the 
 spider-monkey as four legs and a tail, tied in a knot in the 
 middle ; but the tail is, without doubt, the most important 
 of the five limbs. 
 
 2. Wherever the monkey goes, whatever she does, the 
 tail is the standing-point, or rather hanging - point. It 
 takes one turn at least round something or other provision- 
 ally, and in case it should be wanted ; often, as she swings, 
 every other limb hangs in the most ridiculous repose, and 
 the tail alone supports. Sometimes it carries, by way of 
 ornament, a bunch of flowers or a live kitten. Sometimes 
 it is curled round the neck, or carried over the head in the 
 hands, out of harm's way ; or, when she comes silently up 
 
382 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 behind you, puts her cold hand in yours, and walks by 
 your side like a child, she steadies herself by taking a half 
 turn of her tail round your wrist. Her relative Jack, of 
 whom hereafter, walks about, carrying his chain to ease his 
 neck. 
 
 3. The spider-monkey's easiest attitude in walking, and 
 in running also, is strangely upright, like a human being ; 
 but as for her antics, nothing could represent them to you 
 save a series of photographs, and those instantaneous ones ; 
 for they change every moment, not by starts, but with a de- 
 liberate ease which would be grace in anything less horribly 
 ugly, into postures such as Callot or Breughel never fan- 
 cied for the ugliest imps who ever tormented St. Anthony. 
 All absurd efforts of agility which you ever saw at a seance 
 of the Hylobates Lar Club, at Cambridge, are quiet and 
 clumsy compared to the rope-dancing which goes on in the 
 boughs of the pine-tree. 
 
 4. But, with all this, Spider is the gentlest, most obe- 
 dient, and most domestic of beasts. Her creed is, that yel- 
 low bananas are the summum bonum ; and that she must 
 not come into the dining-room, or even into the veranda, 
 whither, nevertheless, she slips, in fear and trembling, 
 every morning, to steal the little green parrot's breakfast 
 out of his cage, or the baby's milk, or fruit off the side- 
 board, in which case she makes her appearance suddenly 
 and silently, sitting on the threshold like a distorted 
 fiend, and begins scratching herself, looking at everything 
 except the fruit, and pretending total absence of mind till 
 the proper moment comes for unwinding her lengthy ugli- 
 ness and making a snatch at the table. Poor, weak-headed 
 thing, full of foolish cunning ; always doing wrong, and 
 knowing that it is wrong, but quite unable to resist temp- 
 tation ; and then profuse in futile explanations, gesticula- 
 tions, mouthings of an " Oh ! oh ! oh ! " so pitiably hu- 
 man that you can only punish her by laughing at her, 
 
FOUR-HANDED FOLKS. 383 
 
 which she does not at all like. One can not resist the fancy, 
 while watching her, either that she was once a human be- 
 ing, or that she is trying to become one. 
 
 5. Her friends are every human being who will take 
 notice of her, and a beautiful little Guazupita, or native 
 deer, a little larger than a roe, witji great, black, melting 
 eyes, and a heart as soft as its eyes, who comes to lick one's 
 hand, believes in bananas as firmly as the monkey, and, 
 when she can get no hand to lick, licks the hairy mon- 
 key for mere love's sake, and lets it ride on her back, and 
 kicks it off, and lets it get on again and take a half turn 
 of its tail round her neck, and throttle her with its arms, 
 and pull her nose out of the way when a banana is coming, 
 and all out of pure love, for the two have never been intro- 
 duced to each other by man, and the intimacy between 
 them, like that famous one between the horse and the hen, 
 is of Nature's own making up. 
 
 6. Very different from the spider-monkey in temper is 
 her cousin Jack, who sits, sullen and unrepentant, at the 
 end of a long chain, having an ugly liking for the calves of 
 passers-by, and ugly teeth to employ them. Sad at heart 
 he is, and testifies his sadness sometimes by standing bolt 
 upright, with his long arms in postures oratorio, almost 
 prophetic, or, when duly pitied and moaned to, lying down 
 on his side, covering his hairy eyes with one hairy arm, 
 and weeping and sobbing bitterly. 
 
 7. He seems, speaking scientifically, to be some sort of 
 Mycetes or Howler, from the flat, globular throat, which 
 indicates the great development of the hyoid bone ; but, 
 happily for the sleep of the neighborhood, he never utters 
 in captivity any sound beyond a chuckle ; and he is sup- 
 posed, by some here, from his burly, thick-set figure, vast 
 breadth between the ears, short neck, and general cast of 
 countenance, to have been, in a prior state of existence, a 
 man and a brother and that by no means of negro blood 
 
384: NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 who has gained in this, his purgatorial stage of existence, 
 nothing save a well-earned tail. At all events, more than 
 one of us was impressed, at the first sight, with the convic- 
 tion that we had seen him before. 
 
 8. Poor Jack ! and it is come to this ; and all from the 
 indulgence of his five senses plus " the sixth sense of van- 
 ity." His only recreation save eating is being led about 
 by the mulatto turnkey, the one human being with whom 
 he, dimly understanding what is fit for him, will at all con- 
 sort ; and having wild pines thrown down to him from the 
 pine-tree above by the spider-monkey, whose gambols he 
 watches with pardonable envy. Like the great Mr. Barry 
 Lyndon, he can not understand why the world is so unjust 
 and foolish as to have taken a prejudice against him. 
 After all, he is nothing but a strong, nasty brute ; and his 
 only reason for being here is that he is a new and unde- 
 scribed species, never seen before, and, it is to be hoped, 
 never to be seen again. charles Kingdey . 
 
 THE LIVING BRIDGE. 
 
 1. THE noise that we heard we now ascertained pro- 
 ceeded from an army of monkeys on their march through 
 the forest. As they approached the stream we could very 
 clearly see all their movements. " They are coming toward 
 the bridge ; they will most likely cross by the rocks yon- 
 der," observed Raoul. " How swim it ? " I asked. " It 
 is a torrent there." " Oh, no ! " answered the Frenchman ; 
 "monkeys would rather go into the fire than water. If 
 they can not leap the stream, they will bridge it." " Bridge 
 it ! and how ? " " Stop a moment, Captain ; you shall 
 see." The half-human voices now sounded nearer, and we 
 could perceive that the animals were approaching the spot 
 
FOUR-HANDED FOLKS. 385 
 
 where we lay. Presently they appeared on the opposite 
 bank, headed by an old gray chieftain, and officered like so 
 many soldiers. They were, as Eaoul had stated, of the 
 ring-tailed tribe. One an aide-de-camp, or chief pioneer, 
 perhaps ran out upon a projecting rock, and, after looking 
 across the stream, as if calculating the distance, scampered 
 back, and appeared to communicate with the leader. This 
 produced a movement in the troop. Commands were is- 
 sued, and fatigue parties were detailed and marched to the 
 front. Meanwhile, several of them engineers, no doubt 
 ran along the bank, examining the trees on both sides of 
 the stream. 
 
 2. At length they all collected round a tall cotton-wood 
 that grew over the narrowest part of the stream, and twenty 
 or thirty of them scampered up its trunk. On reaching a 
 high point, the foremost a strong fellow ran out upon a 
 limb, and, taking several turns of his tail around it, slipped 
 off and hung head downward. The next on the limb, also 
 a stout one, climbed down the body of the first, and, whip- 
 ping his tail tightly round the neck and forearm of the 
 latter, dropped off in his turn and hung head down. The 
 third repeated the manoeuvre upon the second, and the 
 fourth upon the third, and so on, until the last upon the 
 string rested his fore paws on the ground. 
 
 3. The living chain now commenced swinging back- 
 ward and forward, like the pendulum of a clock. The mo- 
 tion was slight at first, but gradually increased, the lower- 
 most monkey striking his hands violently on the earth as 
 he passed the tangent of the oscillating curve. Several 
 others upon the limbs above aided the movement. This 
 continued until the monkey at the end of the chain was 
 thrown among the branches of a tree on the opposite bank. 
 Here, after two or three vibrations, he clutched a limb and 
 held fast. This movement was executed adroitly, just at 
 the culminating point of the oscillation, in order to save 
 
 17 
 
386 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 the intermediate links from the violence of a too sudden 
 jerk. 
 
 4. The chain was now fast at both ends, forming a com- 
 plete suspension bridge, over which the whole troop, to the 
 number of four or five hundred, passed with the rapidity 
 of thought. It was one of the most comical sights I ever 
 beheld to witness the quizzical expression of countenances 
 along that living chain ! The troop was now on the other 
 side, but how were the animals forming the bridge to get 
 themselves over ? This was the question that suggested 
 itself. Manifestly, by number one letting go his tail. But 
 then the point of support on the other side was much lower 
 down, and number one, with half a dozen of his neighbors, 
 would be dashed against the opposite bank, or soused into 
 the water. 
 
 5. Here, then, was a problem, and we waited with some 
 curiosity for. its solution. It was soon solved. A monkey 
 was now seen attaching his tail to the lowest on the bridge, 
 another girdled him in a similar manner, and another, and 
 so on, until a dozen more were added to the string. These 
 last were all powerful fellows ; and, running up to a high 
 limb, they lifted the bridge into a position almost horizon- 
 tal. Then a scream from the last monkey of the new for- 
 mation warned the tail end that all was ready, and the 
 next moment the whole chain was swung over and landed 
 safely on the opposite bank. The lowermost links now 
 dropped off like a melting candle, while the higher ones 
 leaped to the branches and came down by the trunk. The 
 whole troop then scampered off into the chaparral and 
 disappeared. Adventures in the Tropics. 
 
FOUR-HANDED FOLKS. 387 
 
 JACKO. 
 
 1. WHILE examining the tropical birds in an old mu- 
 seum at Havre de Grace my ears were assailed by a harsh 
 and unearthly noise, as of a duel between two rabid cats, 
 which brought in the proprietor, breathless, to ascertain 
 the cause. He finds that the tailless, green-coated African 
 monkey, who hangs suspended from an old parrot's cage 
 outside the window, has seized the incautiously protruded 
 tail of his prettier and, therefore, more favored brother, the 
 monkey from South America ; he, unfortunate creature, 
 has crossed the "herring-pond " in a hen-coop, which is 
 much too small to contain himself, tail and all. This ap- 
 pendage, which in his present condition is neither useful 
 nor ornamental, is perpetually getting him into scrapes, 
 which the honorable representative of Africa, being tailless, 
 escapes. 
 
 2. Conscious of his condition, the poor American mon- 
 key pulls in his tail, coils it up as well as he can, and gives 
 it a most malicious bite, as much as to say, "I wish you 
 were off ; you are of no use to me now, and you look ter- 
 ribly shabby." He then covers it up with straw, and looks 
 miserable. 
 
 3. " How much for that monkey ? " I say " the one in 
 the hen-coop." The monkey looks up as though he under- 
 stood what was said, and with a face which evidently says, 
 " Please buy me." The merchant's price is too high. 
 The African rascal he will sell for half the sum ; but this 
 gentleman grins so maliciously at the customer that the 
 bargain is off. 
 
 4. A few months later, business called me to a neigh- 
 boring French village, and when I was ready to depart I 
 went into the stable to find the coachee, and there, what 
 was my delight to see my old friend of the hen-coop 
 
388 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 perched on the manger, looking as happy as a monkey could 
 look. He really was a pretty fellow : his bright eyes 
 sparkled like two diamonds from beneath his deep-set eye- 
 brows ; his teeth were of the most pearly whiteness, and 
 of these, through pride or a wish to intimidate, he made 
 a formidable display on the entrance of visitors. His hands 
 were certainly not similar to those of fair Rosamond of 
 Woodstock renown, but more like the shriveled and dried- 
 up palms of the old monks of St. Bernard, whose mortal 
 remains are made an exhibition of in that far-famed con- 
 vent. A more wicked pair of pickers and stealers, how- 
 ever, never graced the body of man or monkey. 
 
 5. His tail, which had now recovered its good looks, 
 gave additional charms to his personal appearance, and, 
 moreover, was most useful, inasmuch as it performed the 
 office of a hand, giving to the owner three or five of 
 these useful members. With this he could cling on to the 
 bar of the rack above the manger and swing himself about, 
 a perfect living pendulum. Well, too, he knew the use 
 of it. If a nut or apple thrown to him lodged just out of 
 reach of his hands or feet, he would run to the full length 
 of his chain, turn his face so as to get as much length 
 as possible, stretch out this member, and pull toward him 
 the coveted delicacy. If pursued, moreover, and the chain, 
 dangling after him, got in his way, he would invariably 
 coil his tail around the links and carry it high over his 
 head, out of the way of his spider-like legs. 
 
 6. After a considerable amount of bargaining, Jacko 
 was bought, and transferred chain, tail, and all to his new 
 English master. At the hotel Jacko was secured by being 
 chained in a little closet adjoining the bedroom, and when 
 I returned, after a half-hour's absence, the paper was all 
 torn from the walls. The pegs were all loosened, and the 
 individual peg to which his chain had been fastened torn 
 completely from its socket. An unfortunate garment 
 
FOUR-HANDED FOLKS. 389 
 
 which happened to be hung up in the closet was torn into 
 a thousand shreds ; and if he had tied the torn strips to- 
 gether and made his escape from the window, I could 
 scarcely have been more surprised. 
 
 7. After such misdeeds it was quite evident that Jacko 
 must no longer be allowed full liberty, and a lawyer's blue 
 bag, with a little hay at the bottom for a bed, was provided 
 for him. It was a movable home, and therein lay the ad- 
 vantage, for, when the strings were tied, there was no mode 
 of escape. He could not get his hands out to unfasten 
 them ; the bag was too strong for him to bite his way 
 through, and his efforts to get out only had the effect of 
 making the bag roll on the floor or jump into the air, much 
 to the amusement, and sometimes the consternation, of the 
 spectators. 
 
 8. While getting tickets at the Southampton railway 
 station, Jacko, who must needs see everything that was go- 
 ing on, suddenly poked his head out of the bag and gave a 
 malicious grin at the ticket-seller. This much frightened 
 the poor man, but, with great presence of mind, quite as- 
 tonishing under the circumstances, he retaliated the insult. 
 "Sir, that's a dog ; you must pay for it accordingly." In 
 vain was the monkey made to come out of the bag and 
 exhibit his whole person ; in vain were arguments used to 
 prove the animal in question was not a dog but a monkey. 
 A dog it was in the views of the official, and three and six- 
 pence was paid, as demanded. 
 
 9. Thinking to carry the joke further, I took out from 
 my pocket a live tortoise I happened to have with me, and, 
 showing it, said : " What must I pay for this, as you charge 
 for all animals ?" The employe adjusted his specs, with- 
 drew from the desk to consult with his superior, then, re- 
 turning, gave the verdict, with a grave but determined 
 manner, " No charge for them, sir ; them be insects." 
 
 10. When Jacko arrived at his destination, he was pro- 
 
390 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 vided with a comfortable home in the stall of a stable, 
 where he could ascend through an aperture to the hay-loft. 
 "While sitting in the manger, he had one amusement, and 
 that was catching mice. These unsuspecting little animals 
 would come out to pick up the corn left by the horses in 
 the next stall. To get at their feeding-ground they had 
 to run the gantlet of Jacko's premises. He was up to 
 this, and would pretend to be asleep, keeping, however, 
 one eye half open. The trick answered ; the mouse made a 
 rush, in vain ; Jacko, as quick as lightning, had his paw 
 upon him, and with a tight squeeze crippled the poor 
 brute. He would then play with him for some minutes, 
 every now and then giving him a pat to make him go 
 faster. When the poor victim thought he had got away, 
 Jacko caught him again, and then carnivorous repre- 
 sentative of the class Quadrumana! ate him up like a 
 sugar- plum. 
 
 11. The servants, having observed Jacko's talent in this 
 line, bethought themselves that they could turn it to 
 some good account ; and, as the cat of the house was ill, 
 and not having undergone a severe training in the logical 
 school of Aristotle, they reasoned to themselves as follows : 
 "Cats catch mice in the dark ; monkeys catch mice in the 
 dark ; therefore monkeys are cats." Acting upon this 
 misleading syllogism, they one evening took Jacko out of 
 his comfortable bed of hay in the loft and chained him 
 up in the larder, having previously removed every eatable 
 or drinkable thing, except some jam-pots, which were put 
 seemingly out of reach, and, moreover, were well secured 
 with bladder stretched over their tops. 
 
 12. The night passed long and miserably to poor Jacko, 
 who was evidently much astonished at this unwonted treat- 
 ment. All night long the mice scampered about the place, 
 regardless of their enemy, while he, most uncatlike, was 
 coiled up in a soup-tureen, fast asleep. The morning 
 
FOUR-HANDED FOLKS. 391 
 
 dawned, and the mice retired to their holes ; Jacko awoke, 
 scratched his shivering hide, and, having pushed the tu- 
 reen, his bed, from the shelf to its utter demolition, looked 
 around for something to eat. The jam-pots attracted his 
 notice. " There is something good here," thought he as 
 he smelled the coverings. " I'll see." His sharp teeth soon 
 made an aperture : he was not disappointed. The treas- 
 ured jams raspberry, strawberry, plum the vaunted 
 Scotch marmalade, the candied apricots, the pride and care 
 of the cook, disappeared in an unaccountably short time 
 down into the seemingly small gullet of the sweet-toothed 
 Jacko. 
 
 13. Not if I had a hundred mouths and a hundred 
 tongues could I describe the imprecations hurled at the de- 
 voted head of the now sick and overgorged gourmand by 
 the disappointed and illogical cook, the owner of the jams, 
 as she opened the door of the larder at breakfast-time to 
 see how many mice the monkey had caught. Great was 
 the anger of the female jailer ; great were the malicious 
 grins of the captive. 
 
 14. Some few days after this affair Jacko, having been 
 restored to health and favor, was warming himself before 
 the kitchen fire. A cricket that had been singing merrily 
 came a little too far out on the hearth-stone. His fate was 
 sealed ; the next jump was down the throat of Jacko, who 
 munched him as an epicure does the leg of a woodcock. 
 The next tidbit was a black beetle, who ran out to secure 
 a crumb dropped from the servants' supper-table ; he, too, 
 became a victim to his rashness. Having ascertained that 
 these beetles were nuts to Jacko, I one day gave him a great 
 treat by upsetting the kitchen beetle-trap in his presence. 
 Both paws instantly went to work ; whole bunches of the 
 unfortunate insects he crammed into his cheek-pouches, 
 which served him for pockets, munching away as hard as 
 he could at the same time. His paws could not catch the 
 
392 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 prey fast enough, so he set his feet to work, and grasped 
 with them as many as he could hold. This was not enough. 
 He swept a lot together with his tail, and kept them there 
 close prisoners till his mouth was a little empty, and he 
 had time to catch and devour them. 
 
 15. Jacko's insectivorous propensities were not confined 
 to black beetles alone. Spiders formed a pleasant variety. 
 Not a spider was left alive in the stable where he was con- 
 fined or outside of it ; the most enormous stones would he 
 pick out of the wall with his little fingers, in search of a 
 runaway web-spinner. He was really of great use in clear- 
 ing the house of this housemaid's pest. I often used to 
 put a bit of string to the end of his chain and let him run 
 up the curtains. He would then completely rummage out 
 and devour the spiders, who, having had their webs so fre- 
 quently knocked down by the relentless broom, had thought 
 to spin in security on the top of the cornices and among 
 the curtain-rods. 
 
 16. A great treat it was to Jacko to have a large bowl 
 of warm water given him. He would, first of all, cunningly 
 test the temperature with his hand, and then gradually 
 step into the bath, first one foot, then the other, finally 
 completely sitting down in it. Comfortably placed, he 
 would then take the soap in his hands or feet, as the 
 case might be, and rub himself all over. Having made a 
 dreadful mess on the table, and finding the water becoming 
 cold, the next part of the play was to get out and run as 
 quickly as he could to the fire, where his coat soon became 
 dry. If anybody laughed at him during this performance, he 
 would chatter and grin at them, and frequently even splash 
 water out of the bath at them. 
 
 17. Poor fellow ! his love for a bath one day got him 
 literally " into hot water." The large kitchen-kettle, filled 
 with water, was left on the fire to boil ; Jacko took the 
 lid off, and, finding it warm, sat down, his head only ap- 
 
FOUR-HANDED FOLKS. 393 
 
 pearing above the water. This was very comfortable for 
 some time, but the water, heated by the flames beneath, 
 began to get hot ; Jacko raised^ his body a little, but, find- 
 ing the air very cold by contrast, immediately sat down 
 again. This he continued to do for some time, never being 
 able to sum up the courage to face the cold air. The con- 
 sequence was that the poor little wretch was nearly scalded, 
 and if it had not bean for the timely interference of one of 
 the servants, who took his parboiled carcass out by main 
 force, he would have become a martyr to his own want of 
 pluck and firmness in action. 
 
 18. Jacko's organ of imitation appears to have been 
 very great. On one occasion he tried his hand at knife- 
 cleaning ; but it was the handles which he attempted to pol- 
 ish, while he held the blade in his hand, as a cut attested 
 the next day. He next set to work to polish shoes as he 
 had seen William do, but he covered the soles all over 
 with the blacking, and emptied what was left of a bottle of 
 Day & Martin into the shoe, nearly filling it. When the 
 servants entered he retreated to his basket in the corner, 
 and tried to look as though nothing had happened. After 
 several years of mischief and torment, Jacko got an at- 
 tack of bronchitis. He was wrapped in flannel and placed 
 before the fire, and great care was taken of him, but all in 
 vain ; he died. Not wishing to lose sight of him altogether, 
 I had his bones made into a skeleton, and now, 
 In a cabinet high on a shelf, 
 He lies as a monument raised to himself. 
 
 Frank Buckland. 
 
PART XV. 
 ADVENTURES AND INCIDENTS. 
 
 OUR HUNTING-LODGE AND NEIGHBORS. 
 
 1. THE scene of the following description is in the Scot- 
 tish Highlands, where the writer and his brother passed sev- 
 eral years in the enjoyment of the scenery and wild sports 
 of the region. Their temporary quarters were fixed at a 
 little hamlet, and to reach the deer-forests they were obliged 
 to cross the Findhorn River, a small stream in the very 
 heart of the Highlands. Here follows the story : 
 
 2. The Findhorn, however, which was so calm and 
 bright and sunny when the otters floated down its current 
 in a still summer's morning, was a fierce and terrible enemy 
 in its anger ; and, for a great part of the year, the dread 
 of its uncertainty and danger was a formidable cause for the 
 preservation of that profound solitude of the forest which 
 so long made it the sanctuary of deer, roe, and every kind 
 of wild game. The rapidity with which the river comes 
 down, the impassable height to which it rises in an incred- 
 ibly short time, its incertitude and fury, would render it an 
 object of care to bold forders and boatmen ; but with the 
 peasants, unaccustomed, like the Highlanders, to wrestle 
 with a mountain-torrent, and, excepting in rare instances, 
 unable to swim, it inspires a dread almost amounting to 
 awe. Pent within a channel of rocks from fifty to a hun- 
 
ADVENTURES AND INCIDENTS. 395 
 
 dred and eighty feet in height, the rise of the water is rap- 
 idly exaggerated by the incapability of diffusion ; and the 
 length of its course sometimes concealing beyond the hori- 
 zon the storms by which it is swelled at its source, its floods 
 then descend with unexpected violence. 
 
 3. Frequently, when the sun is shining in a cloudless 
 sky, and the water scarce ripples over the glittering ford, a 
 deep, hollow sound, a dull, approaching roar, may be heard 
 in the gorges of the river ; and almost before the wading 
 fisherman can gain the shore, a bank of water, loaded with 
 trees and rocks and wreck, will come down three, four, 
 five feet abreast, sweeping all before it in a thunder of foam 
 and ruin. In ordinary cases, after two days of rain, the 
 stream will rise twenty or thirty feet it has risen nearly 
 ten fathoms in its rocky gulf ; and once, upon this occa- 
 sion, it mounted fifteen feet in a quarter of an hour. 
 When the day broke, it appeared sweeping through the 
 trees, which the evening before hung fifty feet above its 
 brink, a black, roaring tempest, loaded with ruins and de- 
 bris, from which were seen at times the white skeletons of 
 trees, peeled of their bark, beams and fragments of houses 
 a cart, a door, a cradle hurrying and tilting through the 
 foam and spray, like the scattered flotsam of a wreck. 
 
 4. Often have we gone out in a clear, sapphire morning, 
 when there was scarce a ripple on the pools, and the water 
 on the ford was not over our boots ; and when we returned 
 at evening, and approached through the dark veil of pines 
 which descended toward the river, have heard a roar as if 
 the world were rolling together down the black trough be- 
 fore us, and, as we came out on the bank, found a furious 
 tempest of water tumbling and plunging and leaping, 
 over stock and rock, twenty feet upon the rocks where we 
 had left it whimpering among the pebbles in the morn- 
 ing ; while in the far, deep, birch-embowered channel, 
 where the stream was then so still and placid that you 
 
396 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 could only guess its course by the bright, glistening eye 
 which here and there blinked between the trees and stones 
 now it came yelling and skirling and clamoring down 
 the rocks and falls, as if all the air was full of gibber- 
 ing, babbling, laughing demons, who were muttering and 
 yammering and prophesying and hooting at what you were 
 going to do if you attempted to cross. 
 
 5. As the bridge was two miles below, and there was 
 this continual uncertainty at the ford, I determined to 
 build a hunter's hut, where we might lodge for the night 
 when it was impossible to cross the water. There is a high 
 and beautiful crag at the crook of the river, near the " Lit- 
 tle Eas " a precipice eighty feet in height, and then, like a 
 vast stone helmet, crowned with a feathery plume of wood, 
 which nodded over its brow. From its top you might drop 
 a bullet into the pool below, but on the south side there is an 
 accessible woody bank, down which, by planting your heels 
 firmly in the soil and among the roots of the trees, there is 
 a descent to a deep but smooth and sandy ford. Upon the 
 summit of the rock there is, or there was my blessing 
 upon it ! a thick and beautiful bird-cherry, which hung 
 over the crag, and whose pendent branches, taking root on 
 the edge of the steep, shot up again like the banyan, and 
 formed a natural arbor and close trellis along the margin 
 of the precipice. 
 
 6. Behind its little gallery there is a mighty holly, un- 
 der which the snow rarely lies in winter, or the rain drops 
 in summer. Beneath the shelter of this tree, and within 
 the bank at its foot, I dug a little cell, large enough to 
 hold two beds, a bench, a hearth, a table, and a " kistie." 
 The sides were lined with deals well calked with moss, and 
 the roof was constructed in the same manner, but covered 
 with a tarpaulin, which, lying in the slope of the sur- 
 rounding bank, carried off any water which might descend 
 from thaw or rain, and, when the autumn trees shook off 
 
ADVENTURES AND INCIDENTS. 397 
 
 their leaves, could not be distinguished from the adjoining 
 bank. 
 
 7. Its door was on the brink of the crag, veiled by the 
 thick bird- cherries on the edge of the precipice ; and the 
 entrance to the little path, which ascended from either side 
 upon the brow of the rock, was concealed by a screen of 
 birch and hazel, beneath which the banks were covered 
 with primroses, wood-anemones, and forget-me-not. Bow- 
 ers of honeysuckle and wild roses twined among the lower 
 trees ; and even in the tall pines above, the rose sometimes 
 climbed to the very top, where all its blossoms, clustering 
 to the sun, hung in white tassels out of the dark-blue 
 foliage. There the thrush and the blackbird sang at morn- 
 ing and evening, and the owl cried at night, and the buck 
 belled upon the Torr. Blessed, wild, free, joyous dwell- 
 ing, which we shall never see again ! 
 
 8. When in our little bothy, we had companions on 
 every side ; from the passenger which came from Norway, 
 to the little native guest the robin which roosted in the 
 holly-bush above us. " The robin ?" you smile and say. 
 Yes, there was but one. He lived in the bush, as we lived 
 in the bothy, and we were his neighbors too long not to be 
 very well acquainted. His species, as well as all the small 
 tribes, are very local in their range and habits, and may be 
 found all the year in, or near, the same place ; and those 
 who feed them will rarely wait many minutes for their 
 appearance. There were many robins which lived about 
 the bothy, and all were continually in its vicinity, and very 
 tame, but none so gentle and grateful as our little neighbor 
 of the holly. 
 
 9. They would, however, enter the hut, sit on the bed 
 or the table, and hop about the floor, and, when I went out, 
 follow me to the brae. They liked very much to see me 
 turn up the soil, which always provided them with a little 
 feast ; accordingly, they were never absent at the planting 
 
398 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 of a shrub or a flower ; and when I brought home, in my 
 shooting-bag, a tuft of primroses, pyrolas, or lilies of the 
 valley, they were always in attendance to see them put into 
 the bank. For watching my occupation, they preferred 
 something more elevated than the ground, but not so high 
 as the branches of the trees, which were too far from the 
 earth to give them a clear sight of what I turned up ; for 
 their accommodation, therefore, I made little crosses and 
 crotchets, and, when I was planting, set them up beside me, 
 moving them as I proceeded from place to place. Each 
 was immediately occupied by an attentive observer ; and, 
 whenever an insect or a worm was discovered, one of the 
 nearest darted down and caught it, even from between my 
 fingers, and disappeared for a few moments under the rock 
 or between the great holly, to enjoy his success undisturbed. 
 At his disappearance his place was immediately occupied by 
 another, but at the return of the first it was amiably re- 
 signed by his successor. 
 
 10. The blue-bonnets were almost as numerous as the 
 robins, but they never arrived at the same intimacy and 
 confidence. They never entered the bothy in my presence, 
 and even when I fed them they would not approach as long 
 as I remained outside the door ; but as soon as I went in 
 they descended four or five together, chattering and flutter- 
 ing about the entrance, peeping in at the little Avindow, 
 and stretching their necks as far as they could to see where 
 I was, and if all was right. Then they would begin their 
 breakfast on what I had left for them, talking a great deal 
 about it, but occasionally ogling the door, in a manner from 
 which I concluded that there was but small esteem or grati- 
 tude in their conversation. 
 
 11. Far different was the friendship of our little neigh- 
 bor in the holly. In the morning he used to come down 
 and perch on the arm of the bird-cherry, which stretched 
 over the precipice before the door, waiting for its opening 
 
ADVENTURES AND INCIDENTS. 399 
 
 and the preparation of the breakfast, which he always 
 shared ; and when we were seated he would venture over 
 the sill and gather the crumbs about the table at our feet. 
 Often, when the first blood-red streaks of the autumn morn- 
 ing shone like lurid fire through the little window, we were 
 awakened by his sad and solitary whistle, as he sat on his 
 usual branch, his jet-black eye cast toward the door, im- 
 patient for our appearance. Many of his little cousins there 
 were in the wood, with whom we were also well acquainted, 
 and between us happened many an incident which increased 
 our interest and familiarity. 
 
 12. I remember a day one of those deep, still, blue days, 
 so solemn in the forest ; the ground was covered with a foot 
 of snow, and all the trees were hanging like gigantic ostrich- 
 feathers ; but all the world was blue ; the sky was a sleep- 
 ing mass of those heavy indigo clouds which forbode a 
 "feeding storm " ; not a tempest, but a fall of snow ; for 
 in Scotland snow is called storm, however light and still it 
 falls ; thus, in tracking the deer, we say he " has just 
 brushed the storm from the heather" ; and a feeding storm 
 is when the clouds are continually feeding the earth with 
 its velvet pall. The reflection of those deep-blue clouds 
 cast a delicate tint of the same color over the whitened 
 world. 1 was standing with my back against a huge pine, 
 waiting for the hunters and dogs. 
 
 13. As I had been through all the swamps and stripes 
 and wet hollows on that side of the forest, and waded 
 through two and three feet of snow-wreaths, my kilt and 
 hose, and, as it seemed, my flesh, was saturated to the bones 
 with "snawbree," and I began to beat, first one foot, and 
 then the other, to quicken the blood, which was warm 
 enough in my trunk. I had scarce commenced this exer- 
 cise when I heard a little " tic! " close to my ear, and the 
 soft, low voice of a bird a sound, neither a whistle nor a 
 chirp, but which I knew very well before I turned and saw 
 
400 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 the robin, who sat on a dry branch within a yard of my 
 cheek. I guessed what' had brought him : he was very 
 cold, his ruined back humped as round as a ball, and his 
 tail drooping almost perpendicular with his legs, as if it 
 was a little brown peg to lean on, like that on which the 
 traveling Tyrolean merchant rests his pack. 
 
 14. He looked at me with his large, black eye ; then, 
 with a flirt of his tail and a bow with his head, indicated 
 that, if I had no objection, he should like to descend to the 
 place which I occupied, the object of which he expressed 
 by turning his head sidelong, and directing one eye into 
 the black earth which my foot had beaten bare in the snow. 
 I immediately drew back a couple of feet, and he instantly 
 dropped into the spot of mold, peeped and picked under 
 every leaf and clod of earth, and, when there was nothing 
 more, hopped up on the guard of my rifle, on which I was 
 leaning, and, turning his head, looked at me with his upper 
 eye. I again stepped forward, and recommenced my foot- 
 exercise, during which he returned to his branch, examin- 
 ing my progress with some impatience. As soon as my 
 foot was removed he again dropped into the hollow, and 
 busily collected all the little grubs and chrysales which, 
 though too small for me to see as I stood, I knew abounded 
 beneath the sere leaves and thatch of moss and sticks. 
 
 15. In this manner I repeated his supply several times, on 
 one of which, when I was too long, or he too impatient, he 
 dropped from his perch and hovered over the space in which 
 my foot was at work, and, as I continued, lighted on the 
 point of the other shoe, and remained there, peeping into 
 the hollow, until I withdrew my foot, and then descended 
 to finish his repast. When he was satisfied, he ruffed his 
 feathers, looked up sidelong to me, and, after a shake of 
 satisfaction, resumed his perch close to my head, and, after 
 pruning and oiling his feathers, mounted another branch 
 higher, and opened his little throat with that most sad, 
 
ADVENTURES AND INCIDENTS. 401 
 
 sweet, and intermitting warble which gives such a melan- 
 choly charm to a still winter's day. 
 
 Charles Edward Stuart. 
 
 THE-SLOTH. 
 
 1. THIS singular animal is destined by nature to be pro- 
 duced, to live, and to die in the trees ; and, to do justice 
 to him, naturalists must examine him in 'this upper ele- 
 ment. He is a scarce and solitary animal, and, being good 
 food, he is never allowed to escape. He inhabits remote 
 and gloomy forests, where snakes take up their abode, and 
 where cruelly stinging ants and scorpions, and swamps, 
 and innumerable thorny shrubs and bushes, obstruct the 
 steps of civilized man. Were you to draw your own con- 
 clusions from the descriptions which have been given of 
 the sloth, you would probably suspect that no naturalist 
 has actually gone into the wilds with the fixed determina- 
 tion to find him out, and examine his haunts, and see 
 whether nature has committed any blunder in the forma- 
 tion of this extraordinary creature, which appears to us so 
 forlorn and miserable, so ill put together, and so totally 
 unfit to enjoy the blessings which have been so bountifully 
 given to the rest of animated nature ; for he has no soles 
 to his feet, and he is evidently ill at ease when he tries to 
 move on the ground, and it is then that he looks up in 
 your face with a countenance that says, " Have pity on 
 me, for I am in pain and sorrow." 
 
 2. However, we are now in his own domain. Man but 
 little frequents these thick and noble forests, which extend 
 far and wide on every side of us. This, then, is the proper 
 place to go in quest of the sloth. We will first take a 
 near view of him. By obtaining a knowledge of his anato- 
 mv, we shall be enabled to account for his movements 
 
402 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 hereafter, when we see him in his proper haunts. His 
 fore legs, or, more correctly speaking, his arms, are appar- 
 ently much too long, while his hind legs are very short, 
 and look as if they could be bent almost to the shape of a 
 corkscrew. Both the fore and hind legs, by their form, and 
 by the manner in which they are joined to the body, are 
 quite incapacitated from acting in a perpendicular direc- 
 tion, or in supporting it on the earth, as the bodies of 
 other quadrupeds are supported by their legs. Hence, 
 when you place him on the floor, his belly touches the 
 ground. Now, granted that he supported himself on his 
 legs like other animals, nevertheless he would be in pain, 
 for he has no soles to his feet, and his claws are very sharp 
 and long and curved ; so that, were his body supported 
 by his feet, it would be by their extremities, just as your 
 body would be were you to throw yourself on all fours, 
 and try to support it on the ends of your toes and fingers 
 a trying position. Were the floor of glass, or of a polished 
 surface, the sloth would actually be quite stationary ; but, 
 as the ground is generally rough, with little protuberances 
 upon it, such as stones, or roots of grass, etc., this just 
 suits the sloth, and he moves his fore legs in all directions, 
 in order to find something to lay hold of ; and when he has 
 succeeded, he pulls himself forward, and is thus enabled to 
 travel onward, but at the same time in so tardy and awk- 
 ward a manner as to acquire the name of sloth. 
 
 3. Indeed, his looks and his gestures evidently betray 
 his uncomfortable situation ; and, as a sigh every now-and 
 then escapes him, we may be entitled to conclude that he 
 is actually in pain. 
 
 4. Some years ago I kept a sloth in my room for several 
 months. I often took him out of the house and placed 
 him upon the ground, in order to have an opportunity of 
 observing his motions. If the ground was rough, he would 
 pull himself forward, by means of his fore legs, at a pretty 
 
ADVENTURES AND INCIDENTS. 403 
 
 good pace ; and he invariably immediately shaped his course 
 toward 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 the back of a 
 chair ; and, after getting all his legs in a line upon the top- 
 most 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. 
 
 5. The sloth, in its wild state, spends its whole life in 
 trees, and never leaves them but through force, or by ac- 
 cident ; and, what is more extraordinary, not upon the 
 branches, like the squirrel and the monkey, but under 
 them. He moves suspended from the branch, he rests sus- 
 pended from it, and he sleeps suspended from it. To ena- 
 ble him to do this, he must have a very different formation 
 from that of any other known quadruped. 
 
 6. It must be observed that the sloth does not hang 
 head downward like the vampire. When asleep, he sup- 
 ports himself from a branch parallel to the earth. He first 
 seizes the branch with one arm, and then with the other ; 
 and, after that, brings up both his legs, one by one, to the 
 same branch, so that all four are in line. He seems per- 
 fectly at rest in this position. Now, had he a tail, he 
 would be at a loss to know what to do with it in this posi- 
 tion ; were he to draw it up within his legs, it would inter- 
 fere with them ; and were he to let it hang down, it would 
 become the sport of the winds. Thus his deficiency of tail 
 is a benefit to him ; it is merely an apology for a tail, scarcely 
 exceeding an inch and a half in length. 
 
 7. I observed, when he was climbing, he never used his 
 arms both together, but first one, and then the other, and 
 so on alternately. There is a singularity in his hair, differ- 
 ent from that of all other animals, and, I believe, hitherto 
 unnoticed by naturalists ; his hair is thick and coarse at 
 the extremity, and gradually tapers to the root, where it 
 
404: NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 becomes fine as a spider's web. His fur has so much the 
 hue of the moss which grows on the branches of the trees 
 that it is very difficult to make him out when he is at rest. 
 
 8. The male of the three-toed sloth has a longitudinal 
 bar of very fine black hair on his back, rather lower than 
 the shoulder-blades ; on each side of this black bar there is 
 a space of yellow hair, equally fine ; it has the appearance 
 of being pressed into the body, and looks exactly as if it 
 had been singed. If we examine the anatomy of his fore 
 legs, we shall immediately perceive, by their firm and mus- 
 cular texture, how very capable they are of supporting the 
 pendent weight of his body, both in climbing and at rest ; 
 and, instead of pronouncing them a bungled composition, 
 as a celebrated naturalist has done, we shall consider them 
 as remarkably well calculated to perform their extraordinary 
 functions. 
 
 9. As the sloth is an inhabitant of forests within the 
 tropics, where the trees touch each other in the greatest 
 profusion, there seems to be no reason why he should con- 
 fine himself to one tree alone for food, and entirely strip it 
 of its leaves. During the many years I have ranged the 
 forests, I have never seen a tree in such a state of nudity ; 
 indeed, I would hazard a conjecture that, by the time the 
 animal had finished the last of the old leaves, there would 
 be a new crop on the part of the tree he had stripped first, 
 ready for him to begin again, so quick is the process of 
 vegetation in these countries. 
 
 10. There is a saying among the Indians that when the 
 wind blows the sloth begins to travel. In calm weather 
 he remains tranquil, probably not liking to cling to the 
 brittle extremity of the branches, lest they should break 
 with him in passing from one tree to another ; but, as soon 
 as the wind rises, the branches of the neighboring trees be- 
 come interwoven, and then the sloth seizes hold of them, 
 and pursues his journey in safety. There is seldom an 
 
ADVENTURES AND INCIDENTS. 405 
 
 entire day of calm in these forests. The trade-wind gen- 
 erally sets in about ten o'clock in the morning, and thus 
 the sloth may set off after breakfast, and get a considerable 
 way before dinner. He travels at a good round pace ; and 
 were you to see him pass from tree to tree, as I haye done, 
 you would never think of calling him a sloth. 
 
 11. Thus it would appear that the different histories we 
 have of this quadruped are erroneous on two accounts : 
 first, that the writers of them, deterred by difficulties and 
 local annoyances, have not paid sufficient attention to him 
 in his native haunts ; and, secondly, they have described 
 him in a situation in which he was never intended by na- 
 ture to cut a figure I mean on the ground. The sloth is 
 as much at a loss to proceed on his journey upon a smooth 
 and level floor as a man would be who had to walk a mile 
 on stilts upon a line of feather-beds. 
 
 12. One day, as we were crossing the Essequibo, I saw 
 a large two-toed sloth on the ground upon the bank ; how 
 he had got there nobody could tell. The Indian said he 
 had never surprised a sloth in such a situation before ; he 
 would hardly have come there to drink, for both above and 
 below the place the branches of the trees touched the 
 water, and afforded him an easy and safe access to it. Be 
 this as it may, though the trees were not above twenty 
 yards from him, 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 got into a hobble 
 to-day, thou shalt not suffer for it. I'll take no advantage 
 of thee in misfortune ; the forest is large enough both 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 have another interview with man. So fare 
 thee well." 
 
406 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 13. On saying this, I took a long stick which was lying 
 there, held it for him to hook on, and then conveyed him 
 to a high and stately mora. He ascended with wonderful 
 rapidity, and in about a minute he was almost at the top of 
 the tree. He now went off in a side direction and caught 
 hold of the branch of a neighboring tree ; he then pro- 
 ceeded toward the heart of the forest. I stood looking on, 
 lost in amazement at his singular mode of progress. I fol- 
 lowed him with my eye till the intervening branches closed 
 in betwixt us ; and then I lost sight for ever of the two-toed 
 sloth. I was going to add that I never saw a sloth take to 
 his heels in such earnest ; but the expression will not do, for 
 the sloth has no heels. That which naturalists have ad- 
 vanced of his being so tenacious of life is perfectly true. I 
 saw the heart of one beat for half an hour after it was taken 
 out of the body. 
 
 14. So much for this harmless, unoffending animal. He 
 holds a conspicuous place in the catalogue of the animals of 
 the New World. Though naturalists have made no men- 
 tion of what follows, still it is not less true on that account. 
 The sloth is the only quadruped known which spends its 
 whole life from the branch of a tree suspended by its feet. 
 I have paid uncommon attention to him in his native 
 haunts. The monkey and squirrel will seize a branch with 
 their forefeet, and pull themselves up, and rest or run 
 upon it ; but the sloth, after seizing it, still remains sus- 
 pended, and, suspended, moves along under the branch till 
 he can lay hold of another. Whenever I have seen him in 
 his native woods, whether at rest or asleep, or on his 
 travels, I have always observed that he was suspended from 
 the branch of a tree. When his form and anatomy are at- 
 tentively considered, it will appear evident that the sloth 
 can not be at ease in any situation where his body is higher 
 or above his feet. 
 
 Charles Waterton. 
 
ADVENTURES AND INCIDENTS. 407 
 
 ILLUSTRATIVE STORIES. 
 
 1. THE ARAB'S HORSE. The Arab's pride in the purity 
 of breed and speed of his horse is well illustrated in the fol- 
 lowing story : A young Arab eloped with the daughter of a 
 sheik, and effected his escape upon a mare stolen from the 
 bride's father. The sheik was incensed at the loss of his 
 daughter, but his pride was gratified that his favorite mare 
 had distanced all the horses which he had sent in pursuit. 
 The latter sentiment was so strong that he suppressed his 
 wrath, and easily became reconciled to his son-in-law. 
 
 2. THE HORSE'S DOCILITY. An Eastern traveler re- 
 lates that the Arab horse seems to know when he is about 
 to be sold, or when his master is bargaining for him. He 
 becomes restless, gives a side-glance from his beautiful eye 
 to the bargainers, and shows his discontent by scraping the 
 ground with his foot ; neither the buyer nor any one else 
 then dare come near him. But when the bargain is con- 
 cluded, and the old master delivers the halter, with a slice 
 of bread and some salt, to the new owner, and then turns 
 and walks away, the horse immediately becomes tractable, 
 and in a short time seems to transfer his regard to the one 
 who is henceforth to be his companion and friend. 
 
 3. A TRAILED HORSE. A few years ago a horse in 
 one of the London theatres officiated as waiter in the per- 
 formances. He brought in the tea-table, set the requisite 
 number of chairs, and finished his achievements by taking 
 a kettle of boiling water from a blazing fire. He would 
 also ungirth his own saddle, and wash his feet in a pail of 
 water. 
 
 4. A HELPFUL HORSE. A gentleman of Leeds had a 
 horse of unusual sagacity and powers of observation. He was 
 
408 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 accustomed to drink from a trough supplied by a pump. 
 Upon being turned into a field by himself, he made his way 
 to the trough as usual, but finding no water, he seized the 
 handle of the pump in his mouth and worked it until he 
 had obtained water enough. This he continued to do as 
 long as he remained in the field. 
 
 5. A FAITHFUL HORSE. The affection and intelligence 
 of the horse are well shown in the following story, related 
 by Professor Kruger. of Halle : "A friend of mine, who 
 was riding home one dark night through a wood, struck 
 his head against the branch of a tree and fell from his 
 horse, stunned by the blow. The horse immediately re- 
 turned to the house they had left, a mile distant. Finding 
 the door closed, he pawed upon it with his hoof until the 
 inmates were aroused, and when the door opened he turned, 
 and seemed to beckon them to follow. This they did, and 
 the master was found and saved." 
 
 6. HORSE FRIENDSHIP. Horses sometimes show great 
 attachment to their own kind. An incident illustrative of 
 this is related by a captain of French cavalry. An old 
 horse belonging to the company became disabled by age 
 from eating his hay and grinding his oats. His compan- 
 ions on the right and left seemed to appreciate his condi- 
 tion, and for two months they chewed up the food and laid 
 it before their aged companion, thus preserving his life. 
 
 7. A TRAINED DONKEY. In the sixteenth century a 
 trained donkey at Cairo attracted much attention. He 
 would dance in an exceedingly diverting manner, and ap- 
 parently in high glee ; but in the midst of his caperings 
 his master would say that the soldan intended to employ 
 all donkeys to carry bricks and mortar to a new palace he 
 was building, when the donkey would fall upon the floor, 
 
ADVENTURES AND INCIDENTS. 409 
 
 with closed eyes and heels upward, as though dead. No 
 efforts or commands would make him stir, until his master 
 proclaimed that the soldan had issued an edict that the 
 best and comeliest donkeys were to be invited to the feast 
 to-morrow, when he would start up and prance for joy. 
 When his master informed him that he had been selected 
 to carry an ugly and deformed woman through the city, he 
 lowered his ears and limped as though he could scarcely 
 stand. 
 
 8. SAGACITY OF A SHEEP. A gentleman, while pass- 
 ing through a lonely district in the highlands of Scotland, 
 observed a sheep hurrying toward the road before him, and 
 bleating most piteously. On approaching nearer, it re- 
 doubled its cries, and seemed to implore assistance. The 
 gentleman alighted, and followed the sheep to a field at no 
 great distance, where he found a lamb completely wedged 
 in between two stones, and feebly struggling with its feet 
 uppermost. He set the lamb at liberty, and the grateful 
 mother gave her thanks in a series of joyful bleats, very 
 different in tone from those she used to first attract his at- 
 tention. 
 
 9. COURAGE OF THE HOG. In the early settlement of 
 this country hogs were allowed to run in the woods, where 
 they became exceedingly wild. A gentleman traveling 
 through the forest in a hilly region saw a herd of swine 
 acting in a very curious manner. They had formed into a 
 kind of sharp-pointed triangle, the pigs in the center, and 
 the heads of the old hogs all pointing outward. At the 
 apex of the triangle was an old boar, who seemed to be in 
 supreme command. He now saw the cause of the commo- 
 tion. A half-famished wolf was endeavoring to seize one 
 of the lesser hogs, but the old boar constantly fronted him, 
 and the whole triangle shifted its position, but retained its 
 
 18 
 
410 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 shape. There was a sharp skirmish and the hogs dispersed, 
 and the traveler found the wolf dead on the field. 
 
 10. COURAGE OF THE CAT. A cat was one day playing 
 with her kittens before the door of a stable where she lived, 
 when a large hawk darted down and seized one of the kit- 
 tens. The old cat at once sprang upon the enemy, and 
 obliged him to let the kitten go. A terrific battle then 
 ensued between the two. The hawk, from the power of 
 his wings, the sharpness of his talons, and the strength of 
 his beak, for a while had the advantage, and cruelly la- 
 cerated the cat and tore out one of her eyes. Nothing 
 daunted, puss continued the fight, and succeeded in break- 
 ing one of the hawk's wings. She had him then at her 
 mercy, and, after a few more vigorous scratches, she tore 
 off his head. Satisfied with her victory, and unheeding 
 her own condition, she ran to the bleeding kitten, licked 
 its wounds, and purred in great contentment over her res- 
 cued offspring. 
 
 11. A DOG'S SENSIBILITY. A few years since, a noble- 
 man, who had an estate upon the famous Loch Erne, in the 
 north of Ireland, had a spaniel which on many occasions 
 exhibited an uncommon intelligence. It seemed to have 
 an instinct to fetch and carry, and would often exhibit this 
 propensity without special training. Observing the gar- 
 dener laying down his hatchet to adjust his stakes, the dog 
 took the hatchet in his mouth, and, at the proper moment, 
 presented it handle first. This he continued to do until 
 the job was finished. One day a frightened sheep broke 
 away from the flock, plunged into the loch, and swam di- 
 rectly away from the shore. The dog followed and caught 
 the sheep a mile and a half out, just as it was sinking from 
 the weight of its water-soaked fleece, and held it up by the 
 horns until a boat arrived which had been sent in pursuit. 
 
ADVENTURES AND INCIDENTS. 411 
 
 This dog was a general favorite for the kindness of his dis- 
 position and great intelligence. One day, when about two 
 years old, he came to his old friend the gardener, gave two 
 or three short yelps, and went away without paying any 
 heed to the efforts of his friend to engage him in his cus- 
 tomary plays. He went to each member of the household 
 and saluted them in the same manner, reserving his last 
 visit to his mistress, the lady of the house. From her 
 presence he went immediately to the kitchen and laid down 
 and died. The poor fellow, feeling his approaching end, 
 had bid good-by to each of his friends, and then, alone by 
 himself, had yielded up his breath. He was mourned al- 
 most as a human being. 
 
 12. THE DOG AS A DETECTIVE. At St. German an 
 Englishman visited the public gardens, but was obliged 
 to leave his dog, a fine mastiff, outside in care of the guard. 
 During his visit he was robbed of his watch, and, upon in- 
 forming the guard, he was permitted to take in his dog ta 
 help discover the thief. He then carefully informed the 
 dog of his loss, and told him to seek the watch. The dog 
 seemed to comprehend at once, and set out on a tour 
 through the crowd. He ran in and out in all directions, 
 and at last seized hold of a man. The guard, upon search- 
 ing him, found not only the Englishman's watch, but six 
 others which the industrious pickpocket had secured, 
 
 13. AN INTELLIGENT MONKEY. The chimpanzee, of all 
 the monkey tribes, exhibits the most intelligence. Upon 
 the authority of a French traveler we have the following 
 story : " A chimpanzee, captured on the coast of Africa, be- 
 came quite domesticated upon a vessel, and rendered her- 
 self very useful. She learned to heat the oven, taking care 
 that none of the coals fell out, and, when sufficiently heated, 
 she apprised the baker, who came to rely with perfect con- 
 
412 NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 fidence upon her judgment. She learned to splice ropes 
 and to assist in furling sails. The brutal mate assaulted 
 her one day, and beat her severely without provocation. 
 She made no resistance, but in a piteous manner held out 
 her hands to break the force of the blows. After this she 
 seemed to take no interest in anything, refused all food, 
 and on the fifth day died." 
 
 14. THE ELEPHANT AS NUKSE. A military officer in 
 the East India service says : "I have seen the wife of a 
 mahout give a baby in charge to an elephant while she went 
 on some business, and have been highly amused in observ- 
 ing the manoeuvres of the unwieldy nurse. The child began 
 crawling about, and would soon get under the feet of the 
 elephant or entangled in the branches of the tree on which 
 he was feeding. The elephant, in the most tender manner, 
 would lift it out of the way, or remove the obstacle to his 
 progress. If the child reached the limits of the elephant's 
 chain, he would pull it back as gently as possible. When 
 the child fell asleep, he broke off a branch and kept away 
 the flies, although he was himself greatly annoyed by the 
 same pests." 
 
 15. A COURAGEOUS HEK. In an inn-yard a favorite 
 hen hatched out a brood of chickens, but lost all but one. 
 One day, as she was scratching about, a large rat seized her 
 only remaining offspring. The old hen heard the cry of 
 distress, and with the greatest fury flew at the rat, seizing 
 him by the neck. The rat, however, contrived to get free, 
 and in turn attacked the hen. The fight lasted twelve 
 minutes, when, with a violent blow, she laid the rat lifeless 
 at her feet. She then turned to the frightened chicken, 
 folded it under her wings, and clucked soothingly and tri- 
 umphantly. 
 
ADVENTURES AND INCIDENTS. 413 
 
 16. THE RAVEK'S STRATAGEM. A gentleman in Perth- 
 shire had a tame raven named Jacob, which he kept in a 
 stable. The bird proved of great use in destroying rats, and 
 the methods which he took showed almost human intelli- 
 gence. In the forenoon, while the servants were out airing 
 the horses, Jacob took care to provide himself with a bone 
 on which was some meat. This he placed near the rat's 
 hole in front of the crib, and then perched himself above, 
 watching the bone with a keen and steady look. When a 
 rat, attracted by the smell, made his appearance, Jacob 
 pounced upon it at once, and dispatched it in an instant. 
 He would then take his place as before and wait for another 
 victim. After the horses returned, and there was no fur- 
 ther opportunity for sport, he would leisurely feed upon 
 the game he had captured. 
 
 17. TAME CROWS. When a crow is tamed, he soon 
 learns to distinguish all the members of the family ; flies 
 toward the gate, screaming, at the approach of a stranger ; 
 learns to open the door by alighting on the latch ; attends 
 to meals at regular hours ; is extremely noisy and loqua- 
 cious ; imitates the sounds of various words pretty distinct- 
 ly ; and is a great thief and hoarder of curiosities, hiding in 
 holes, corners, and crevices every loose article he can carry 
 off, particularly small pieces of metal, corn, bread, and food 
 of all kinds. He becomes very fond of the one who takes 
 care of him, and will recognize him, after a long absence, 
 with many marks of affection. 
 
 18. THE JACKDAW n$ LIQUOR. A tame jackdaw one 
 day found some whisky left upon the kitchen-table, and 
 drank it with great gusto. In a few moments symptoms of 
 intoxication began to appear : his wings drooped, his eyes 
 half closed, he staggered in his walk in the most ludicrous 
 manner, and he seemed to have lost the use of his wings. 
 
4:14: NATURAL HISTORY READER. 
 
 He stood upon the edge of the table for a moment, as if 
 meditating flight, when his eyes finally closed, and he fell 
 upon his back with his legs in the air, apparently dead. He 
 was wrapped in a flannel and laid away on the shelf. The 
 next morning his owner expected to find Jackie dead, but he 
 soon emerged from the blanket, took a prodigious draught 
 of water, and, apparently, was no worse for his potations. 
 N. B. He would never touch whisky again. 
 
 19. THE FRIENDLY KOBIN. Some years ago, in Edin- 
 burgh, during a severe storm, a gentleman perceived a robin 
 pecking at the glass. Upon opening the window, the bird 
 hopped into the room and commenced picking up crumbs 
 from the floor. The window was kept closed until the 
 storm was over, by which time the robin had become so 
 tame and pleased with its new quarters that it refused to 
 leave. After a little time it would sit on the table where 
 the gentleman was writing, and, when the day was very cold, 
 it would perch on the fender before the fire. When a stran- 
 ger came in, it flew to the top of the door, where it perched 
 during the night. It remained a favored inmate of the 
 household until spring, when it took its departure for the 
 summer. In the autumn it came back to its old quarters, 
 and it passed three winters in its comfortable home. The 
 next spring it disappeared, and never came back, much to 
 the regret of the family. 
 
 20. THE BOBOLINK. 
 
 " June's bridesman, poet of the year, 
 Gladness on wings, the bobolink is here ; 
 Half-hid in tip-top apple-blooms he swings, 
 Or climbs against the breeze with quivering wings, 
 Or, giving way to it in a mock despair, 
 Runs down, a brook of laughter, through the air." 
 
APPLETONS' READERS. 
 
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 Modern Methods made easy. Education is a progressive science. Meth- 
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 reading?" is fully answered in these books, and teachers who have adopted 
 and followed this method have greatly improved their schools. 
 
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 is quite familiar, and which contain sounds easily distinguished and continu- 
 ally recurring, both teacher and pupil will find the Founds a great help in 
 reading new words as well as in acquiring a distinct articulation. 
 
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 each piece, thus affording the best opportunity for oral and written spelling- 
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 With these Readers no " Speller" will be needed. 
 
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 adapted to serve as a basis for the language and thought lessons that are so 
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 will greatly aid them; while the notes, question!?, and suggestions will help the 
 teacher to impart the most instruction and the best culture, which makes the 
 reading-lesson something more than a mere naming of words. 
 
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 of each extract and the correct oral expression will be an easy matter. This is 
 the key-note to Professor Bailey's excellent lessons on accent, emphasis, inflec- 
 tion, and general vocal expression, that are placed as reading-lessons in the 
 Third, Fourth, and Fifth Readers. 
 
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