Chapter VII: Part 7

There is no truth in the assertion that these animals sleep during winter, for they are not in a state of natural sleep, but in a torpor produced by the coldness of the blood, by which they lose the use of their senses and members. Their internal heat does not exceed the temperature of the air. When the heat of the air is ten degrees above the freezing point, their heat is exactly the same. The ball of a small thermometer I have plunged into the bodies of several living lerots, and always found the heat of their bodies was nearly equal to the temperature of the air; and sometimes when applied to the very heart, I have observed the thermometer fall from half a degree to a whole one, the temperature of the air being at eleven. Now it is well known that the internal heat of man, and of the generality of quadrupeds, at all times exceeds thirty, and therefore there is little reason to be surprised that these animals, whose heat is so small, should become torpid, when their little internal heat ceases to be assisted by the external heat of the air; a circumstance that naturally happens when the thermometer is not above ten or eleven degrees above the freezing point. This is the real cause of the torpor of these animals, a cause which has been overlooked, although it extends to all animals which sleep during winter. Alike are its effects upon these animals, the hedge-hog and bats; and though I have never had the opportunity of trying them upon the marmot, I am persuaded its blood is not less cold, since like them it is subject to a torpor during winter.

The torpor continues as long as the cause which produces it, and ceases with the cold. A few degrees of heat above ten or eleven is sufficient to reanimate them, and if kept in a warm place during winter they do not become torpid, but go about and eat and sleep, from time to time, like other animals. When they feel the cold they crowd close together, and roll themselves up like balls, in order to present a smaller surface to the air, and to preserve some warmth. It is thus they are found during winter in hollow trees, and in holes of walls exposed to the south: in these they lie without motion, on moss and leaves, and when taken, if tossed or rolled about they never stir, or shew any signs of life; it is by a mild and gradual heat alone they are to be recovered, for if carried suddenly near a fire they perish. Though in this state they are without motion, though their eyes are shut, and they seem to be deprived of all their senses, yet they feel pain when it is very acute; they testify it when burned or wounded by a contraction, and a little hollow cry, which they will repeat several times; hence it is plain the internal sensibility must subsist, as well as the action of the heart and lungs, yet it is to be presumed that these vital motions act not with the same force and power while in the torpid as in the usual state. The circulation, probably, is not performed then but in the larger vessels; the respiration is slow and feeble, the secretions are very scanty, and perspiration must be nearly annihilated, since they could not pass several months without eating were they to lose as much of their substance in proportion by perspiration as they do when they have an opportunity of repairing it by taking of sustenance; they do lose some part, however, since in very long winters they die in their holes. Perhaps indeed it is not the duration but the severity of the cold that cuts them off, as they soon die if exposed to an intense frost. What induces me to believe that it is not from waste of substance they perish in long winters, is their being very fat in autumn, and equally so on their reviving in spring; this abundance of fat being an internal substance, sufficient to supply what they lose by perspiration. Besides, as cold is the sole cause of their torpor, and they never fall into that state but when the temperature of the air is beyond the tenth or eleventh degree, they often revive during the winter, for in that season there are frequently hours, and even days, in which the liquor will be found at the twelfth, thirteenth, or fourteenth degree, and during this mild weather the dormice quit their holes in search of food, or rather eat what they had amassed the preceding autumn.

Aristotle asserted, and he has been followed by succeeding naturalists, that dormice pass the whole winter without eating, and that during this period of abstinence they become very fat, being more nourished by sleep alone than other animals by food. This is both untrue and impossible. In its torpid state, which lasts four or five months, it could only fatten by the air it breathes; and allowing (which however is granting too much) that part of this air is converted into nourishment, could so considerable an increase result from it? Would it be sufficient to recompense the waste by perspiration? Aristotle might have been led into this error by the winters in Greece being very mild, where the dormice do not sleep continually, but taking nourishment every time they were revived by the warmth they might become fat, though in a torpid state. The truth is they are always fat, especially in autumn and summer. Their flesh is not unlike that of the guinea-pig. They were reckoned delicacies by the Romans, who reared great numbers of them. Varro describes the method of making warrens for them, as does Apicius of dressing them in the best manner. Their instructions, however, have been neglected, either from a disgust to a loir from his near resemblance to a rat, or from his flesh being unpalatable. I have been told by peasants who had eaten them, that it is hardly preferable to that of the water-rat.

The loir has a considerable resemblance to the squirrel in its natural habits; it lives in forests, climbs up trees, and leaps from branch to branch, though not so nimbly as the latter, because his legs are not so long, and he is as remarkable for being fat as the other is for being slender. Nuts, and other wild fruits, compose the usual nourishment of both; the loir likewise eats small birds, which he takes in their nests. He does not, like the squirrel, nestle on the upper parts of trees, but makes a bed of moss in the trunks of those which are hollow; he also shelters himself in the clefts of rocks, and always prefers dry places. He avoids moisture, drinks little, and rarely descends to the ground; but there is a material difference between him and the squirrel, as the latter is easily tamed, but the loir always remains wild. They couple about the end of spring, and the females bring forth in summer, generally producing four or five at a time. Their growth is quick, and it is asserted that they do not live more than six years. In Italy, where they still eat them, the inhabitants dig pits in the woods, which they line and cover with straw and moss; for these pits they chuse a dry spot, sheltered by rocks and exposed to the south; to which the loirs resort in great numbers, and the people find them there in a torpid state, about the end of autumn, when they are fittest to eat. They are full of courage, and will defend their lives to the last extremity; their fore-teeth are both long and strong, and they bite violently; they have no fear of the weasel nor small birds of prey; they baffle the attempts of the fox by mounting to the tops of the trees, nor have they any very formidable enemies but the martens and wild cats.

This species is not very much diffused; it is not met with in the cold climates, such as Lapland and Sweden; at least the naturalists of the north do not mention it; the species they describe being the muscardin, the smallest of the three; neither, I presume are they to be met within very hot climates, travellers being silent about them. There are few or none of them in open countries like England; they require a temperate climate, and the country covered with wood. We meet with them in Spain, France, Greece, Italy, Germany, and Switzerland, where they live in forests, upon hills, and not on the tops of mountains, like the marmot, which, though subject to a torpor from the cold, seems to delight in frost and snow.

THE LEROT.

The loir lives in forests and seems to shun our habitations, but the lerot, (called sometimes the middle dormouse, at others the garden squirrel) on the contrary, inhabits our gardens, and is sometimes to be found in our houses; this species is likewise more numerous and more generally diffused; and there are few gardens which are not infested with them. They nestle in the holes of walls, climb up trees, choose the best fruits, and devour them as they begin to ripen. Peaches seem to be their favourite fruit, and whoever wishes to preserve them must take pains to destroy the lerot. They likewise climb up pear, plum, and apricot trees, and in a scarcity of fruits, they eat almonds, nuts, and even leguminous plants. These they carry off in great quantities to their holes, which they dig in the earth, above all, in well cultivated gardens, where they make themselves beds of herbs, moss, and leaves. The cold stupefies them, but they are revived by the heat; eight or ten of them are sometimes found in one place, in a state of torpor, all huddled together, and rolled up in the midst of their hoard of provisions. They couple in spring and bring forth in summer. They commonly have five or six young at a time; they are very quick of growth, but do not engender till the second year; their flesh is not eatable like that of the loir; they have the same disagreeable smell as the house rat, whereas the loir has no bad smell; they never become so fat as the latter. This animal is found in all the temperate climates of Europe, and even in Poland and Prussia, but they do not appear to exist in Sweden and the more northern countries.

THE DORMOUSE.

Of all the species of the rat, the dormouse (_fig. 90._) is the least ugly. It has brilliant eyes, and a full tail, which is rather white than red. It never lives in houses, and seldom in gardens, but like the loir, chiefly frequents the woods, and shelters itself in the hollows of old trees. This species is by no means so numerous as that of the lerot. The dormice are always found alone in their several holes, and I had much difficulty to procure a few of them; they however, seem to be pretty common in Italy, and not unknown in the northern climates, since they are comprised by Linnæus in his list of Swedish animals; but they do not appear to exist in England, for Mr. Ray in his Synopsis, who had seen it in Italy, says the small dormouse found in England is not red on the back like the Italian muscardin, and that it probably belongs to a different species. In France it is the same as in Italy, and is justly described by Aldrovandus in his History of Quadrupeds; but he adds there are two species in Italy, one of which is scarce, and has the smell of musk, the other more general without any particular odour, and that at Bologna they are both called _muscardino_ from their resemblance in figure and size. Of these two species we only know the latter, as the dormice of France have no smell either good or bad. Its flesh, however, is unfit to eat, and it never becomes so fat as the loir.

The dormouse becomes torpid with cold and revives in mild weather, and like the loir and lerot hoards up nuts and other dry fruits. It forms its nest upon trees, like the squirrel, though generally lower among the branches of nut-trees, and underwood; the nest is made of herbs interwoven, is about six inches in diameter and is only open at the top. Many countrymen have assured me that they have found the nests of dormice in coppices and in hedges, that they were surrounded with leaves and moss, and that each nest contained three or four young ones. As soon as they grow up they quit their rests, shelter themselves in the hollows or under trunks of trees, where they repose, lay up provisions, and sleep through the winter.

THE SURMULOT.

This species of rat has been known but for a few years, and is not mentioned by any naturalist except M. Brisson, who calls it the Rat of the Woods, but as it bears a greater resemblance to the field-mouse, in colour and habitudes, than to the rat, I have termed it the Surmulot, or large Field-mouse. This animal is more strong and mischievous than the rat; it has reddish hair, long naked tail, the backbone is arched like that of a squirrel, its body is much thicker, and it has whiskers like a cat. It is but a few years since this species has been spread in the neighbourhood of Paris; from whence they came is not known, but they have multiplied prodigiously, which is not wonderful when it is considered that they produce from twelve to nineteen young ones at a time. They were first discovered at Chantilly, Marly, and Versailles. From M. le Roi I received a great number of them both alive and dead, and he also favoured me by communicating the remarks he had made upon this new species. The males are larger, stronger, and more mischievous than the females. When pursued or endeavoured to be taken, they turn and bite the stick or hand which touches them: their bite is sharp and dangerous, for it is immediately followed by a considerable swelling, and the wound, though small, does not soon heal. They bring forth three times in a year, so that two individuals may produce 36 in twelve months. Some of the females which I received were with young, and as I kept them in cages, two or three days before they brought forth I observed them busily gnawing the wood of their cages and putting the pieces into a kind of order, making beds for their little ones.

The surmulot, in some of its habits, resembles the water-rat. Though they take up their residences anywhere, they seem to prefer the banks by the water; the dogs also chase them with the same furious eagerness as they do the water-rat. When pursued, and they can equally take to the water, or shelter themselves in a thorny thicket, they prefer the former, plunge in without dread, and swim with great facility. This particularly happens when they cannot regain their burrows, for, like the field-mouse, they dig holes in the earth, or occupy those made by rabbits. They may also be taken by means of ferrets, who pursue them into their hole with the same ardour as they do the rabbit. These animals pass the summer in the country; they live principally on fruits or grain, yet are carnivorous, devouring young hares, rabbits, partridges, and other birds, and when they get into a hen-roost they destroy, like the polecat, more than they can eat. About November the females and the young ones quit the fields, and proceed in troops to barns, where they commit infinite havock, by destroying the straw, consuming the grain, and infecting every thing with their ordure. The old males remain in the fields each in his respective hole, where they accumulate acorns, beech-mast, &c. filling it to the very edge, and remaining themselves at the bottom. They do not become torpid in the winter, like the dormouse, but come out of their holes every fine day. Those which reside in barns drive away all the mice and rats; and it has even been remarked, that the common rats are less frequent in the environs of Paris since the surmulot became so numerous.

THE ALPINE MARMOT.

Of all modern writers upon Natural History Gesner has done most to enlarge our knowledge in this science. Aldrovandus is little more than his commentator, and those of less repute are his mere copyists; we shall not, therefore, hesitate to follow him in treating of the Marmots, (_fig. 91._) which are natives of his own country (Switzerland), and of which he must have been better informed than those who may have accidentally kept a few in their houses. And as his remarks perfectly coincide with those observations we had an opportunity to make, we can have no reason to doubt that what he further relates is equally to be depended upon. The marmot, when taken young, is easily tamed; more than most wild animals, and almost as much as our domestic ones. It is soon learnt to perform feats with a stick, to dance, and to readily obey the voice of its master. Like the cat it has an antipathy to dogs; when it has become familiar in the house, and finds itself protected by its master, it will attack the largest dog, and fasten on them with his teeth. It is not quite so large as a hare, but more stout, and has great strength joined to peculiar agility. He has four strong teeth in the front, with which he bites terribly; but unless provoked he neither attacks dogs nor men; but if care is not taken he will gnaw furniture, and even make holes through wooden partitions. As his thighs are short, and his toes formed like the bear, he often sits erect, and walks with ease upon his hind feet; he puts food to his mouth with the fore paws, and eats like a squirrel. He runs much swifter up hill than on a plain; climbs trees, and mounts the clefts of rocks, or contiguous walls, with great facility; so much so that it is said the Savoyards, who are the general chimney-sweepers of Paris, learned from the marmot their trade. They eat indiscriminately whatever is given them, whether flesh, bread, fruit, herbs, roots, pulse, or insects, but of milk and butter they are particularly fond; and, though less inclined to theft than the cat, they industriously endeavour to get into a dairy, where they will lap great quantities of milk, purring all the while like a cat when she is pleased. Milk, indeed, is the only liquid for which they shew any inclination, as they seldom drink water, and refuse wine.

There seems to be a combination of the bear and the rat in the form of the marmot, yet it is not the _arctomys_, or _rat-bear_ of the ancients, as Perrault, and several others have imagined. Its nose, lips, and form of the head, are like those of the hare; it has the hair and claws of the badger, the teeth of the beaver, the whiskers of the cat, the eyes of the loir, the feet of a bear, with a tufted tail and short ears. The hair on its back is a reddish brown, more or less dark, and very harsh, that on the belly is reddish, and more soft. Its voice resembles that of a young dog when played with or caressed, but when irritated or frightened it raises a cry, so loud and shrill, that it hurts the drum of the ear. It is a very clean animal, and retires, like the cat, upon necessary occasions; but, like the rat, it has a very strong disagreeable smell, especially in the summer. In autumn it is loaded with fat, though all parts of the body are never equally so. The back and reins are loaded with fat which is firm and solid; therefore the marmot would make very good eating, if it did not retain a disagreeable smell, which would require the strongest seasoning to conceal.

This animal, which delights in the regions of frost and snow, and which is only found on the highest mountains, is, of all others, most liable to be benumbed with the cold. About the end of September, or beginning of October, it retires to its hole, and appears no more till the beginning of April. His retreat is formed with precaution, and furnished with art. It is rather wider than long, and very deep, so that it will hold several of them without crowding, or injuring the air they breathe. Their feet and claws appear as if designed for digging, and with which they remove the earth with great facility, throwing it behind them as they proceed. The form of their hole resembles the letter Y; the two branches having an opening which terminates in one wherein they reside. As the whole is made on the declivity of a mountain there is no part on a level but the innermost apartment. One branch of the Y slopes downward, and in which they void their excrements, and the other slopes upwards, and serves them as a door to go in and out. The inner part is warmly lined with moss and hay, of which they make an ample provision during summer. It is even asserted that this is a public work, that some cut the finest grass, that others collect it, and that they take their turns in conveying it to their hole; upon this occasion, it is added, that one of them lies upon his back, permits the hay to be heaped upon his belly, keeps his legs extended, and in this manner the others drag him by the tail to their common retreat; and this practice is assigned as the reason for the hair being generally worn away from their backs. But it appears more probable, that their being constantly employed in digging up the earth is the cause of that appearance. Be this as it may, certain it is that they dwell together, and labour in common to make their habitations, in which they pass three-fourths of their lives; they retire to it in stormy or rainy weather, and at the approach of danger; they never go out but in the finest weather, and even then to no great distance: on these occasions one stands as sentinel upon an elevated place, while the others are sporting in the fields, or cutting the grass for hay, and no sooner does he perceive a man, an eagle, a dog, &c. than he gives the alarm by a kind of whistle, and is himself the last to enter the cell.

They make no provision for winter, as if they foresaw that such a precaution would be useless; but when they perceive the first approaches of the season, in which they will be in a torpid state, they close up the entrance of their dwelling, and which they effect with so much solidity and care, that it is much more easy to dig up the earth in any other part. They are at this time very fat, and some of them will weigh twenty pounds; in this plight they remain three months, after which they waste by degrees, and are quite thin by the end of winter. When discovered in their retreats they are rolled up like balls, and covered with hay; in this state they may be taken away, and even killed, without shewing any sense of pain. The fattest are generally taken for food, and the young ones kept for taming. Like the dormouse they are revived by a gradual heat, and those kept warm in a house never become torpid, but are as lively in the winter as at any other time. We have already observed that the torpid state is occasioned by the congelation of the blood, and it is remarked in the Philosophical Transactions, No. 397, that when in this state of torpor, the circulation of the blood is slow, the secretions languid, and the blood not being renewed by fresh acquisitions of chyle, is then without serum. Besides it is uncertain whether they remain for seven or eight months in a torpid state as most authors pretend. Their burrows are deep, and they live together in great numbers; they therefore must retain their heat some time, and may then feed on the grass they have treasured up. M. Altman, in his Treatise on the animals of Switzerland, says, that the hunters let the marmots remain three weeks or a month unmolested in their cells; that they never dig for them in mild weather, as without this precaution the animals awake, and penetrate deeper in the earth; but that on opening their cells in hard frosts they find them in so torpid a state, as to be carried off without difficulty; it may therefore be concluded that, in all respects, they resemble the dormice, and that if they are longer in a torpid state, it is because the winter is longer in the climates which they inhabit.

These animals produce but once a year, and rarely more than three or four at a time. They grow very fast, their lives do not extend beyond nine or ten years, and this species is neither numerous nor much diffused. The Greeks knew it not, or at least have not mentioned it. Pliny is the first who takes notice of it among the Latins under the name of _mus Alpinus_, or Alpine rat; and, indeed, though there are many other species of rats in the Alps, there is none so remarkable as the marmot, or like it dwells upon the brow of the loftiest mountains; all the other species fix their abode in the valleys, or at least on the sides of the lower hills or mountains; besides the marmot never descends to the lower grounds but seem particularly attached to the Alpine heights, where it chooses such places as are exposed to the south or east in preference to the north or west. They are also found on the Appenine and Pyrenean mountains, and on the highest ones in Germany.

The Bobak of Poland, to which M. Brisson, and after him Mess. Arnault of Nobleville, and Salerne, have given the name of Marmot, differs from that animal in colour, and also in the number of toes, having five on the fore-feet. From which we may conclude that the _bobak_, or Polish marmot, the _mouax_, or Canadian marmot, the _cavia_, or marmot of Bahama, and the _cricet_, or Strasburgh marmot, are different species from the marmot of the Alps.

SUPPLEMENT.

I have received the drawing of a _monax_, or marmot of Canada, from Mr. Collinson, but which appears to differ very much from the Alpine marmot, its head not being of the same shape, and less covered with hair, as is also the tail which is considerably longer. The _whistler_ mentioned by Baron Hontan, as found in Canada, is most probably of this species, as his description nearly answers to it. He says it is called whistler by the Canadians, because in fine weather they whistle at the mouth of their holes; which we have before remarked is done by our Alpine marmots, especially by the one appointed to stand as a guard.

An animal in Kamtschatka is called marmot by the Russian travellers: they say its skin is beautiful, and at a distance it resembles the plumage of a bird; and add, that it uses its fore-feet like a squirrel, and feeds on roots, berries, and cedar-nuts; the latter however seems to indicate an error, as the real cedar bears cones, and the other trees so called, berries.

There is another species which comes from the Cape of Good Hope; this was first spoken of by M. Allamand, but more fully described by M. Pallas, and M. Vosmaer, who had one of them alive at Amsterdam; he says it is known at the Cape by the name of the Rock Badger, merely because it lives under the earth and in rocks, but has no resemblance to that animal; and, as Kolbe justly remarks, that it resembles more the marmot than the badger, we have called it the Marmot of the Cape. M. Vosmaer observes in his description of it, that it was about the size of a rabbit, had a large belly, fine eyes, and black hair upon its eyebrows, above which it had a few long black hairs that turned towards the head, and long whiskers. Its colour was grey, or rather a yellowish brown intermixed with black hairs, much darker upon the head and back than upon the belly, which as well as the breast was whitish, and it had a white stroke across the shoulders which ended at the top of the fore-legs.

THE BEAR.

There is no animal so generally known, about which naturalists have differed so much as the bear, their doubts and even contradictions, with respect to the nature and manners of this animal, seem to have arisen from their not distinguishing the different species, and consequently ascribing to one the properties belonging to another. In the first place, the land-bear (_fig. 92._) must not be confounded with the sea-bear, or as it is commonly called the white bear (_fig. 93._), or bear of the frozen sea; these animals being very different both in the form of their bodies and natural dispositions. The land bears must be also distinguished into two species, the brown and the black, because having neither the same inclinations nor natural appetites, they cannot be considered as varieties of the same species. Besides, there are some land bears that are white, but which, although they resemble the sea-bear in colour, differ from it in every other particular. These white land-bears we meet with in Great Tartary, Muscovy, Lithuania, and other northern countries. It is not the rigour of the climate which renders them white during the winter, like the hares and ermines, for they are brought forth white and remain so all their lives. We ought, therefore, to consider them as a fourth species, if there were not also found bears with an intermixture of brown and white, which denotes an intermediate race between the white land-bear, and the brown or black, consequently the former is only a variety of one of those species.

_Engraved for Barr's Buffon._

We frequently meet with the brown bear in the Alps, but the black-bear very rarely. But in the forests of the northern countries of Europe and America, the latter is very common. The brown one is both fierce and carnivorous, but the black-bear is only wild, and constantly refuses to eat flesh. Of this we cannot give a more striking testimony than what M. du Pratz relates in his history of Louisiana. "The bear," says he, (speaking of the black one) "appears in Louisiana in winter, because the snows which cover the northern countries prevent him from procuring his usual food, which consists of roots, acorns, and vegetables in general; but milk and honey form his favourite repast, and when he meets with those articles he will sooner die than relinquish them. In defiance of the prevailing notion that the bear is carnivorous, I maintain, with every person of this province, and the circumjacent countries, that he is not so. These animals have never been known to devour men, nor even to eat butcher's meat, notwithstanding their multitude, and the excesses of hunger which they often suffer. While I resided at the Natches, one winter was so severe in the northern regions, that the bears flocked from them in great numbers; so great indeed that they starved each other, and were very meagre. In the night they were frequently seen roaming into houses and farm-yards, which were not properly shut, where they might have feasted upon meat, but they never touched it, nor devoured aught but such grain as they could pick up. If they had possessed a carnivorous disposition, it must have shewn itself upon such a pressing occasion. They never kill animals to devour them; and were they in reality carnivorous, they would not abandon their own snowy regions, where they might find men and animals at discretion, to search for fruit and roots, an aliment which carnivorous tribes reject." M. du Pratz adds in a note, that since writing the above passage, he had learned, with certainty, that in the mountains of Savoy there are bears of two sorts, the one black, like those of Louisiana, not carnivorous, and the other red, which are as much so as wolves.

De Hontan remarks in his travels that the bears of Canada are very black, but by no means dangerous, and that they never attack the human species unless when fired at and wounded. In another place he adds that the reddish ones are exceedingly mischievous, and that they uniformly attack the huntsmen, whereas the black ones fly from them. According to Wormius there are three kinds in Norway. The first (_Bressdiur_) is very large, not altogether black but rather brownish, is not destructive, but lives solely on herbs and leaves of trees; the second (_Ildgiersduir_) is smaller, blacker, and carnivorous, frequently attacking horses and other animals, especially in autumn; the third (_Myrebiorn_) is still smaller and mischievous, he feeds on ants and delights in demolishing their hillocks. It has been remarked, adds this author (but without any proof) that these three kinds copulate together and produce intermediate species; that those which are carnivorous attack flocks like the wolf, killing the whole and eating only one or two; that they also eat wild fruits, and that when the fruit of the service tree is in season, they are the most dangerous, because it sets their teeth on an edge which can only be allayed by blood or grease. But the generality of what Wormius relates on this head is highly equivocal, for we have no example of animals whose appetites are so different as the two first, the one living on herbs, and the other on flesh and blood, copulating together and producing intermediate species. Besides he mentions the black bear as carnivorous, and the brown one as frugivorous, which is inconsistent with truth, and contradicted by facts. It is also to be observed that Father Rzaczynski, of Poland, and M. Klein, of Dantzic, in treating of the bears of their own countries, admit of but two species, the black and the brown, or red; describing two kinds of the latter, the one large and the other small. They state the black bears to be rare, and the brown ones very common; that the black kind are the largest and feed on ants, and that the largest of the red or brown are most carnivorous and destructive. These testimonies, as well as those of Du Pratz and de la Hontan are contradictory to what Wormius asserts. Indeed it seems to be a certain fact that the red or brown bears which are found not only in Savoy, but on the high mountains, in the vast forests, and in almost all the desarts of the earth, devour live animals and even carcasses when in a putrid state. Black bears are seldom found in cold countries, but the red or brown ones we find in the cold, temperate, and even in the southern regions. In Greece they were common, and to heighten their shews the Romans introduced them from Lybia. They are now to be met with in China, Japan, Arabia, Egypt, and as far as the island of Java. Aristotle also speaks of white land bears, but considers this difference in colour as accidental, and originating from a defect in generation. Thus the bear is a resident in all desart, mountainous, and woody countries; but in open, populous, and cultivated regions he is a stranger. There are none in England or France, except possibly a few in the most unfrequented mountains of the latter.

The bear is not only a savage but a solitary animal; he takes refuge in the most unfrequented places, and dangerous precipices of uninhabited mountains: he chooses his den in the most gloomy parts of the forests, in a cavern hollowed out by time, or in the decayed trunk of some old tree. Thither he retires alone, and passes part of the winter without eating or ever stirring abroad. He is not, however, deprived of sensation, like the dormouse or marmot, but being exceedingly fat towards the end of autumn, which is the time he retires, he seems rather to subsist on the exuberance of his former flesh, and does not quit his retreat until he is nearly wasted. We are told that the male quits his den towards the expiration of forty days, but that the female remains four months, by which time she has brought forth her young; that they not only subsist but nourish their young, without taking any food for such a length of time I think highly improbable. I allow that when with young they are exceedingly fat, and also, that being covered with very thick hair, sleeping the greatest part of the time, and taking no exercise, they must lose little by perspiration. But, if it be true, that the males are impelled by hunger to quit their retreats at the end of forty days, it is not natural to imagine that the females should feel a less want of food, after bringing forth and suckling their young ones, unless we suppose that, like cats, they sometimes devour their offspring, of which, in my opinion, there is no probability. Besides, at present we speak only of the brown bear, the males of which do, in reality, devour their new-born cubs when they find them; but the females seem to love their offspring with a ferocious ardour. When they have brought forth their fury is more violent and dangerous than that of the males. They will expose themselves to any danger, they will combat any thing in defence of their young, which are not, as the ancients have said, without form when born, but attain their full growth nearly as soon as other animals; before they leave the womb their formation is perfect, and if the foetus, or young cub, seems at first glance to be unformed, it is merely because there is a want of proportion in the body and members of the grown bear; and that the foetus, or new-born animal, is more disproportioned than the aged, is well known to be the case in all species.

The bears couple in autumn; and the female is said to be more ardent than the male. It is pretended that she lies on her back to receive him, that she folds him with her paws, and holds him a long time, but the fact is they copulate like other quadrupeds. Bears, while confined with a chain, have been seen to copulate and produce, but how long the females go with young is not accurately known. Aristotle has limited it to thirty days, a fact which has never been contradicted, and which as I cannot authenticate, I will neither affirm nor deny, but assign my reasons for thinking it doubtful; which are, first because the bear is a large animal, and the larger the animal the longer time is required for its formation in the womb; secondly, because the young bear is very slow of growth, follows the mother, and requires her succour for a year or two; thirdly, because the female produces only from one to four, and never more than five, a circumstance common to all large animals who produce but few and carry them long; fourthly, because the bear lives from 20 to 25 years, and the time of gestation, and that of growth, are usually proportioned to the duration of life. From these analagous principles I conclude that the bear carries her young several months. Be this as it may, the mother takes the greatest care of her offspring. She brings forth in winter, previous to which she provides a bed of hay and moss at the bottom of her den, and suckles her young till they are able to follow her in the spring. The male and female reside not together, but have separate retreats, and that at a distance from each other. When they cannot find a cavern for a den they break and collect branches which having placed they cover with herbs and leaves, so as to render it impenetrable to rain.

The voice of the bear is a kind of harsh deep murmur, which, when he is enraged, is heightened by the grinding of his teeth. He is susceptible of anger, which is always furious and often capricious. However mild, and even obedient he may appear to his master, he ought to be treated with distrust and circumspection; nor upon any account should he be struck upon the nose, or on the parts of generation. He may be taught to stand on his hind legs, and to dance in a rude and awkward measure; but for this it is necessary he should be taken young, and held in constant restraint. An old bear is not to be tamed, nor even held in awe, and shews himself, if not intrepid, at least fearless of danger. The wild bear turns not out of his path, nor offers to shun the sight of man; and yet, it is said, that by a certain whistle he is so far surprised and confounded as to rise upon his hind feet. This is the time to shoot and endeavour to kill him, for when only wounded in an attack he darts with fury on his foe, and clasping him with his fore paws is sure to stifle or strangle him, unless immediately assisted.

Bears are chaced and taken in several manners; in Sweden, Norway, Poland, &c. the least dangerous method, it is said, is to intoxicate them, by pouring brandy, or other spirits, upon honey, which being their favorite food they search for in the hollows of trees. In Louisiana and Canada, where the black bears are common, and where they reside in the decayed parts of old trees, they are taken by setting fire to their retreats, which, as they climb trees with great ease, are sometimes 30 or 40 feet high. If this attack be made upon a female with her young, she descends first and is killed before she reaches the ground; as the cubs follow they are easily secured, by throwing a noose round their necks, and are carried home, either to rear, or kill for eating. The flesh of the young is delicate and good, and that of the old one eatable; but as the latter is mixed with an oily fat, the paws alone, which are more firm, can be considered as a delicacy.

The hunting of the bear without being dangerous, is highly profitable, when attended with success; of all coarse furs their skins are the most valuable, and the quantity of oil procured from one bear is considerable. The flesh and fat are boiled together, and then the oil is separated; "this done", says Du Pratz, "it is purified by throwing into it, while very hot a large quantity of salt and water; a thick smoke arises which carries off the disagreeable smell of the fat; when the smoke is evaporated they pour the grease, while still warm, into a pot, where it is left to settle for eight or ten days, at the expiration of which a clear oil is found swimming at the top; this is taken off with ladles, is equally good with the best olive oil, and is used for the same purposes. Under it remains a lard as white as hog's-lard, but rather more soft, and which has neither a disagreeable taste or smell." This account of M. du Pratz is perfectly acceded to by M. Dumont, who adds, that the savages of Louisiana carry on a considerable traffic with the French in this oil from the bears, that it never loses its fluidity but in intense frosts, when it becomes clotted, is of a dazzling whiteness, and is then eaten upon bread like butter. The author of the Dictionnaire du Commerce says, that good bear's-grease should be grey, viscid, and of a disagreeable flavour, and when very white it is adulterated with suet. It is used as a topical remedy for tumours, rheumatic, and other complaints, and many people have a high opinion of its salutary properties.

From their great quantity of fat, bears are excellent swimmers. In Louisiana, Dumont says, they cross that great river with perfect ease; they are very fond of the fruit of the _guiacana_, the trees of which they climb, and sit astride upon the branches to eat it; they are also partial to potatoes and yams. In autumn they are so fat that they can hardly walk, at least they cannot run as fast as a man; it is sometimes ten inches thick on their sides and thighs. The under part of their paws is large and swelled, and when cut there issues out a white milky juice. This part seems composed of glands resembling small nipples, and this is the reason why they continually suck their paws when confined to their dens during winter.

The bear enjoys the sense of seeing, hearing, and feeling, in great perfection, although compared with his size, his eye is small, his ears short, and his skin coarse and covered with a quantity of hair. His smell, is, perhaps, more exquisite than that of any other animal; the internal surface of his nose being very extensive and excellently calculated to receive impressions from odoriferous bodies. Their legs and arms are fleshy, like those of man, and they strike with their paws in the same manner as he does with his fists; they have also a short heel bone, which makes part of the sole of the foot; in their kind of hands the thumb is not separated, and the largest finger is on the outside; but whatever rude resemblance they may have to the human species, they only render them the more deformed without giving them the smallest superiority over other animals.

SUPPLEMENT.

Since the publication of the original work I have received the following particulars from M. de Musly, a major in the service of the States General. He says, that at Berne, they have several bears in a kind of domestic state, which are kept in large square ditches lined at the sides and bottom with stone, and where they have room to walk about they have dens made for them, which are also paved, on a level with the bottom of the ditch; these are divided into two by walls, and are occasionally shut with iron gates; troughs of fresh water are set for them in each ditch, and holes are left in the pavement sufficient to set up large trees on an end. Thirty-one years since two young brown bears were brought thither from Savoy, the male of which was killed by a fall from one of the trees into the ditch about two months ago (this account is dated October 17, 1771), and the female is still alive. At the age of five years they began to generate, and from that time they regularly came in season in the month of June, and the female brought forth in January. The first time, she had only one; since she has had from one to three, but never more; the three last years she had one each time, and the man who looks after her thinks she is now pregnant. When first whelped they are yellow, and white round the neck, and have not the smallest appearance of bears; they are blind four weeks; they measure about eight inches at first, and at the end of three months fourteen or fifteen; they are then almost round, and have a sharp pointed snout; they are by no means strong until they are full grown, before which time the white hair is quite gone, having decreased by degrees, and the yellow is changed into a brown.

The male and female sometimes fight furiously, growling horribly at each other, but when in season the latter generally gets the better. The ditches in which these two bears were formerly kept, being to be filled up, they were necessarily separated for a few hours while removing to the other ditches prepared for them; on their meeting again they raised themselves on their hind legs, and embraced each other in a kind of rapture; and upon the death of the male, the female was much affected, and refused to eat for several days. But this attachment is not common to them, for unless brought up and fed together from very young cubs they cannot bear each other; yet after living thus together, the survivor will not admit the approaches of another. They are very fond of climbing the trees put into the ditches, which are green larches, and placed there every May. They are commonly fed with rye-bread soaked in water; and they will eat all sorts of fruits. When the female is near her time, she is furnished with plenty of straw, which she appropriates for her use, and then the male is removed, lest he should devour the young ones; they are allowed to remain with their mother for the space of ten weeks, when they are removed, and fed for some time with bread and biscuit.

M. de Musly afterwards informed me that the female they had thought pregnant was supplied with straw at the necessary time, but though she made a bed and rested upon it for three weeks, she did not bring forth anything; therefore the last time she brought forth she had but one, and was at the age of thirty-one years. He likewise adds, that there are brown bears on Mount Jura, in Franche-comté, and in the county of Gex, which come into the plains in autumn, and do great damage in the chesnut woods.

There are two species of bears in Norway, one of which is much smaller than the other; in both there are different colours, such as dark and light brown, grey, and every shade of white, at least so says Pontoppidan; and also that they retire to the dens which they have prepared in October. Being very formidable, when wounded, three or four hunters usually go together, and as he easily kills large dogs, they use small ones, which run under his belly and seize him by the genitals; when nearly overpowered, he places himself against a tree, and throws tufts or stones at his foes, until he is dispatched.

In the menagerie of Chantilly there is an American bear, with fine, soft, straight black hair, whose head is longer, and snout shorter than the bears of Europe. And M. de Bertram mentions a bear that was killed near St. John's river in East Florida, which was seven feet long, weighed 400lbs. and from which 60 Paris pints of oil were drawn.

THE BEAVER.

AS man becomes civilized and improved, other animals are repressed and degraded. Reduced to servitude, or treated as rebels, and dispersed by force, all their societies are dissolved, and their talents rendered nugatory; their arts have disappeared, and they now retain nothing but their solitary instincts, or those foreign habits which they have acquired by example or human education. For this reason there remain no traces of their ancient talents and industry, except in those countries where man is a stranger, and where, undisturbed by him for a long succession of ages, they have freely exercised their natural talents, brought them to their limited perfection and been capable of uniting in their common designs. The beaver seems to be the only remaining monument of that intelligence in brutes, which though infinitely inferior in principle to that of man, supposes common projects and relative views; projects which having society for their basis, and for their object the construction of a dike, the erection of a residence, or the foundation of a republic, imply some method of understanding each other, and of acting in concert.