Chapter VIII: Part 8

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

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

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

ORDER IX.

RUMINANTIA,

RUMINATING ANIMALS--THOSE THAT CHEW THE CUD.

THE CAMEL.

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

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

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

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

DEER.

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

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

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

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

Brown tells us the following story: "As Captain Smith, of the Bengal Native Infantry, was out in the country with a shooting party, very early in the morning, they observed a tiger steal out of a jungle in pursuit of a herd of deer. Having selected one as his object, it was quickly deserted by the herd. The tiger advanced with such amazing swiftness that the stag in vain attempted to escape, and, at the moment the gentleman expected to see the fatal spring, the deer gallantly faced his enemy, and for some minutes kept him at bay; and it was not till after three attacks that the tiger succeeded in securing his prey. He was supposed to have been considerably injured by the horns of the stag, as, on the advance of Captain Smith, he abandoned the carcass, having only sucked the blood from the throat."

The following circumstances are mentioned by Delacroix: "When I was at Compiegne," says he, "my friends took me to a German who exhibited a wonderful stag. As soon as we had taken our seats in a large room, the stag was introduced. He was of an elegant form and majestic stature, his aspect at once animated and gentle. The first trick he performed was, to make a profound obeisance to the company, as he entered, by bowing his head; after which he paid his respects to each individual of us in the same manner. He next carried about a small stick in his mouth, to each end of which a small wax taper was attached. He was then blindfolded, and, at the beat of a drum, fell upon his knees, and laid his head upon the ground. As soon as the word _pardon_ was pronounced, he instantly sprang upon his feet. Dice were thrown upon the head of a drum, and he told the numbers that were cast up, by bowing his head so many times. He discharged a pistol, by drawing with his teeth a string that was tied to the trigger. He fired a small cannon by means of a match that was fastened to his right foot, without showing any signs of fear. He leaped several times, with the greatest agility, through a hoop, which his master held at a man's height from the ground. At length the exhibition was closed with his eating a handful of oats from the head of a drum, which a person was beating the whole time with the utmost violence. Almost every trick was performed with as much steadiness as it could have been accomplished by the best-trained dog."

At Wonersh, near Guildford, the seat of Lord Grantley, a fawn was drinking in the lake, when one of the swans suddenly flew upon it, and pulled the poor animal into the water, where it held it under till it was drowned. This act of atrocity was noticed by the other deer in the park, and they took care to revenge it the first opportunity. A few days after, this swan, happening to be on land, was surrounded and attacked by the whole herd, and presently killed. Before this time, they were never known to molest the swans.

The VIRGINIA DEER.--A young gentleman, in Bath, Virginia, killed two large bucks, the horns of which were so interlocked that they could not disengage themselves. There is no doubt that they had had a combat; and, from observations made by the sportsman, he supposed them to have been in that condition several days. The horns were so securely fastened that, he could not separate them without breaking off one of the prongs. The bucks were killed at two shots, and the one which escaped the first ball carried the other a hundred yards before he met his death.

A farmer in the state of Kentucky domesticated a female deer, but lost her during the whole spring and summer. After an absence of several months, she returned with a fawn at her side, and, on her arrival, seemed to take great pleasure in showing her young one.

The Virginia deer is said by the hunters to evince a strong degree of animosity towards serpents, and especially to the rattlesnake. In order to destroy one of these creatures, the deer makes a bound into the air, and alights upon the serpent with all four feet brought together in a square, and these violent blows are repeated till the hated reptile is destroyed.

The REINDEER.--This animal, as is well known, is the great resource of the Laplanders, to whom it furnishes most of the necessaries of life. Two or three varieties are found in the polar regions of the American continent. "They visit the Arctic shores," says Captain Lyon, "at the latter end of May or the early part of June, and remain until late in September. On his first arrival, the animal is thin, and his flesh is tasteless; but the short summer is sufficient to fatten him. When feeding on the level ground, an Esquimaux makes no attempt to approach him; but should a few rocks be near, the wary hunter feels secure of his prey. Behind one of these he cautiously creeps, and, having laid himself very close, with his bow and arrow before him, imitates the bellow of the deer when calling to its mate. Sometimes, for more complete deception, the hunter wears his deer-skin coat and hood so drawn over his head, as to resemble, in a great measure, the unsuspecting animals he is enticing. Though the bellow proves a considerable attraction, yet if a man has great patience, he may do without it, and may be equally certain that his prey will ultimately come to examine him; the reindeer being an inquisitive animal, and at the same time so silly, that, if he sees any suspicious object which is not actually chasing him, he will gradually, and after many caperings, and forming repeated circles, approach nearer and nearer to it.

"The Esquimaux rarely shoot until the creature is within twelve paces, and I have frequently been told of their being killed at a much shorter distance. It is to be observed that the hunters never appear openly, but employ stratagem for their purpose--thus by patience and ingenuity rendering their rudely-formed bows, and still worse arrows, as effective as the rifles of Europeans. When two men hunt in company, they sometimes purposely show themselves to the deer, and when his attention is fully engaged, walk slowly away from him, one before the other. The deer follows, and when the hunters arrive near a stone, the foremost drops behind it, and prepares his bow, while his companion continues walking steadily forward. This latter the deer still follows unsuspectingly, and thus passes near the concealed man, who takes a deliberate aim, and kills him."

THE GIRAFFE.

This animal, the tallest of quadrupeds, is found in the interior of Africa. Its height is about seventeen feet. It is of a fawn color, marked with dark spots. Its neck is slender, its head gracefully formed, and its eyes soft, yet animated. It associates in small troops, and feeds upon the twigs and leaves of trees.

_Miscellaneous Anecdotes._--Some years ago, a giraffe was sent from Egypt to Constantinople. Its keeper used to exercise it in an open square, where the Turks used to flock daily, in great crowds, to see the extraordinary animal. Seeing how inoffensive it was, and how domesticated it became, the keeper used to take it with him through the city, and, whenever he appeared, a number of friendly hands were held out of the latticed windows to offer it something to eat. The women were particularly attentive to it. When it came to a house where it had been well treated, if no one was at the window, it would tap gently against the wooden lattice, as if to announce its visit. It was extremely docile and affectionate; and, if left to itself it always frequented the streets where it had the most and best friends.

The giraffe has become familiar to us, in the menageries, of late years; but half a century ago, its very existence was doubted. Le Vaillant was the first to dissipate the mystery which enveloped it. His account of his success in killing one, is given in the following glowing terms: "The 18th of November was the happiest day of my life. By sunrise I was in pursuit of game, in the hope to obtain some provision for my men. After several hours' fatigue, we descried, at the turn of a hill, seven giraffes, which my pack instantly pursued. Six of them went off together; but the seventh, cut off by my dogs, took another way. Bernfry was walking by the side of his horse; but in the twinkling of an eye, he was in the saddle, and pursued the six. For myself, I followed the single one at full speed; but, in spite of the efforts of my horse, she got so much ahead of me, that, in turning a little hill, I lost sight of her altogether; and I gave up the pursuit. My dogs, however, were not so easily exhausted. They were soon so close upon her, that she was obliged to stop, to defend herself. From the place where I was, I heard them give tongue with all their might; and, as their voices appeared all to come from the same spot, I conjectured that they had got the animal in a corner; and I again pushed forward. I had scarcely got round the hill, when I perceived her surrounded by the dogs, and endeavoring to drive them away by heavy kicks. In a moment I was on my feet, and a shot from my carbine brought her to the earth. Enchanted with my victory, I returned to call my people about me, that they might assist in skinning and cutting up the animal. Whilst I was looking for them, I saw one of my men, who kept making signals which I could not comprehend. At length, I went the way he pointed; and, to my surprise, saw a giraffe standing under a large ebony-tree, assailed by my dogs. It was the animal I had shot, who had staggered to this place; and it fell dead at the moment I was about to take a second shot. Who could have believed that a conquest like this would have excited me to a transport almost approaching to madness! Pains, fatigues, cruel privation, uncertainty as to the future, disgust sometimes as to the past,--all these recollections and feelings fled at the sight of this new prey. I could not satisfy my desire to contemplate it. I measured its enormous height. I looked from the animal to the instrument which had destroyed it. I called and recalled my people about me. Although we had combated together the largest and most dangerous animals, it was I alone who had killed the giraffe. I was now able to add to the riches of natural history. I was now able to destroy the romance which attached to this animal, and to establish a truth. My people congratulated me on my triumph. Bernfry alone was absent; but he came at last, walking at a slow pace, and holding his horse by the bridle. He had fallen from his seat, and injured his shoulder. I heard not what he said to me. I saw not that he wanted assistance; I spoke to him only of my victory. He showed me his shoulder; I showed him my giraffe. I was intoxicated, and I should not have thought even of my own wounds."

THE GOAT.

Of this animal there are many species, some wild and some domestic. They seem to be a link between the sheep and antelope, and to partake of the qualities of both. In some European countries, goat's milk is used, by the poor, as a substitute for that of the cow.

_Anecdotes._--A person in Scotland having missed one of his goats when his flock came home at night, being afraid the wanderer would get among the young trees in his nursery, two boys, wrapped in their plaids, were ordered to watch all night. The morning had but faintly dawned, when they sprang up the brow of a hill in search of her. They could but just discern her on a pointed rock far off, and, hastening to the spot, perceived her standing with a newly-dropped kid, which she was defending from a fox. The enemy turned round and round to lay hold of his prey, but the goat presented her horns in every direction. The youngest boy was despatched to get assistance to attack the fox, and the eldest, hallooing and throwing up stones, sought to intimidate him as he climbed to rescue his charge. The fox seemed well aware that the child could not execute his threats; he looked at him one instant, and then renewed the assault, till, quite impatient, he made a resolute effort to seize the kid. Suddenly the whole three disappeared, and were soon found at the bottom of the precipice. The goat's horns were fast into the back of the fox; the kid lay stretched beside her. It is supposed the fox had fixed his teeth in the kid, for its neck was lacerated; but when the faithful mother inflicted a death-wound upon her mortal enemy, he probably staggered, and brought his victims with him over the rock.

Dr. Clarke, in his "Travels in Palestine," relates the following: "Upon our road we met an Arab with a goat, which he led about the country for exhibition, in order to gain a livelihood. He had taught this animal, while he accompanied its movements with a song, to mount upon little cylindrical blocks of wood, placed successively one above the other, and in shape resembling the dice-boxes belonging to a backgammon-table. In this manner, the goat stood first on the top of one cylinder, and then upon the top of two, and afterwards of three, four, five, and six, until it remained balanced upon the top of them all, elevated several feet from the ground, and with its feet collected upon a single point, without throwing down the disjointed fabric upon which it stood. The diameter of the upper cylinder, on which its feet ultimately remained until the Arab had ended his ditty, was only two inches, and the length of each was six inches."

We are told by a late traveller that the Spaniards do not milk, and then distribute to their customers, in the same manner as with us, but drive their flock of goats to the residence of each customer, and then milk and furnish according to contract. "I was looking out of the window of the dining-room of my hotel one morning; there were at least forty goats, young and old, and the old man who managed the affair seemed hard pushed to get our regular supply. He had to go over the whole flock once, and some twice, before he could completely fulfil his contract. After carrying in his milk, he came to the door and uttered a few Spanish words, and in an instant the whole moved off, the herdsman bringing up the rear. They moved at the word of command much quicker, and marched off in better order, than do our militia."

THE SHEEP.

Of this useful creature there are many varieties, all of which are supposed to have sprung from the argali, which is found in Asia, Europe, and America.

_Anecdotes._--The house of the celebrated Dr. Cotton, of Massachusetts, stood on an eminence, with a garden sloping down in front, filled with fruit-trees. At the foot of the garden was a fence, and in a straight line with the fence was an old well-curb. Mr. Cotton kept a great many sheep, and one day these uneasy creatures took it into their heads to get a taste of their master's fruit. But the minister had another mind about the matter, and sallied out to chastise the marauders. These were very much alarmed; and, according to their usual habit, all followed their leader to escape. The well-curb being the lowest part of the barrier which presented itself to the retreating animal, over he leaped, and down he went to the very bottom of the well, and after him came several of his followers, till it was in danger of being choked up by the silly sheep. Dr. Cotton leaped over the barrier himself, and prevented the rest from destruction. As for those in the well, they humbly stretched out their forefeet to their master, and bleated piteously, as if petitioning him to release them. "Don't be in haste," quietly replied the good pastor: "wait patiently till I go to the house for a rope--then I will try to save you." He was as good as his word; he fastened the rope around their bodies, and drew them one by one out of the water.

"There are few things," says Hogg, "more amusing than a sheep-shearing. We send out all the lambs to the hill, and then, as fast as the ewes are shorn, we send them to find their young ones. The moment that a lamb hears its dam's voice, it rushes from the crowd to meet her; but instead of finding the rough, well-clad, comfortable mamma, which it left a few hours ago, it meets a poor, naked, shivering, most deplorable-looking creature. It wheels about, and, uttering a loud, tremulous bleat of despair, flies from the frightful vision. The mother's voice arrests its flight--it returns--flies and returns again--generally for a dozen times, before the reconciliation is fairly made up."

The following pleasing anecdote of the power of music is given by the celebrated Haydn: "In my early youth," says he, "I went with some other young people equally devoid of care, one morning during the extreme heat of summer, to seek for coolness and fresh air on one of the lofty mountains which surround the Lago Maggiore, in Lombardy. Having reached the middle of the ascent by daybreak, we stopped to contemplate the Borromean Isles, which were displayed under our feet, in the middle of the lake, when we were surrounded by a large flock of sheep, which were leaving their fold to go to the pasture.

"One of our party, who was no bad performer on the flute, and who always carried the instrument with him, took it out of his pocket. 'I am going,' said he, 'to turn Corydon; let us see whether Virgil's sheep will recognize their pastor.' He began to play. The sheep and goats, which were following one another towards the mountain, with their heads hanging down, raised them at the first sound of the flute, and all, with a general and hasty movement, turned to the side from whence the agreeable noise proceeded. They gradually flocked round the musician, and listened with motionless attention. He ceased playing, and the sheep did not stir.

"The shepherd with his staff now obliged them to move on; but no sooner did the fluter begin again to play, than his innocent auditors again returned to him. The shepherd, out of patience, pelted them with clods of earth, but not one of them would move. The fluter played with additional skill; the shepherd fell into a passion, whistled, scolded, and pelted the poor creatures with stones. Such as were hit by them began to march, but the others still refused to stir. At last, the shepherd was forced to entreat our Orpheus to stop his magic sounds; the sheep then moved off, but continued to stop at a distance as often as our friend resumed the agreeable instrument.

"The tune he played was nothing more than a favorite air, at that time performing at the Opera in Milan. As music was our continual employment, we were delighted with our adventure; we reasoned upon it the whole day, and concluded that physical pleasure is the basis of all interest in music."

A gentleman, while passing through a lonely district of the Highlands, observed a sheep hurrying towards the road before him, and bleating most piteously. On approaching nearer, it redoubled its cries, looked in his face, and seemed to implore his assistance. He alighted, left his gig, and followed the sheep to a field in the direction whence it came. There, in a solitary cairn, at a considerable distance from the road, the sheep halted, and the traveller found a lamb completely wedged in betwixt two large stones of the cairn, and struggling feebly with its legs uppermost. He instantly extricated the sufferer, and placed it on the greensward, while the mother poured forth her thanks and joy in a long-continued and significant strain.

THE OX.

There are many varieties of the domestic ox or cow, all of which are supposed to have sprung from a species still found wild in Europe and Asia. The herds of wild cattle in North and South America are the progeny of animals brought hither by the Spanish settlers.

_Miscellaneous Anecdotes._--The following account is from the journal of a Sante Fe trader: "Our encampment was in a beautiful plain. Our cattle were shut up in the pen with the wagons; and our men were, with the exception of the guard, all wrapped in a peaceful slumber,--when all of a sudden, about midnight, a tremendous uproar was heard, which caused every man to start in terror from his couch, with arms in hand. Some animal, it appeared, had taken fright at a dog, and, by a sudden start, set all around him in violent motion. The panic spread simultaneously through the pen; and a scene of rattle, clash, and 'lumbering' succeeded, which far surpassed every thing we had yet witnessed. A general _stampede_ was the result. Notwithstanding the wagons were tightly bound together, wheel to wheel, with ropes or chains, the oxen soon burst their way out; and, though mostly yoked in pairs, they went scampering over the plains. All attempts to stop them were in vain; but early the next morning we set out in search of them, and recovered all the oxen, except half a dozen." Similar cases of panic are frequently described by travellers upon the western prairies.

The cattle of South America, especially in the neighborhood of Buenos Ayres, are said to give indications of approaching rain, before the signs of it are visible in the atmosphere. A traveller relates that, in passing from this place, the weather had been long dry, almost every spring had failed, and the negroes were sent in all directions to discover fountains. Soon after, the cattle began to stretch their necks to the west, and to snuff in a singular manner through their noses, which they held very high in the air. Not a cloud was then seen, nor the slightest breath of wind felt. But the cattle proceeded, as if seized with a sudden madness, to scamper about, then to gather together, squeezing closer and closer, and snuffing as before. While he was wondering what was to be the result of such extravagant motions, a black cloud rose above the mountains, thunder and lightning followed, the rain fell in torrents, and the cattle were soon enabled to quench their thirst on the spot where they stood.

There are many anecdotes which show that the ox, or cow, has a musical ear. The carts in Corunna, in Spain, make so loud and disagreeable a creaking with their wheels, for the want of oil, that the governor once issued an order to have them greased; but the carters petitioned that this might not be done, as the oxen liked the sound, and would not draw so well without their accustomed music.

Professor Bell assures us that he has often, when a boy, tried the effect of the flute on cows, and has always observed that it produced great apparent enjoyment. Instances have been known of the fiercest bulls being calmed into gentleness by music.

It is probable that the old rhyme had its origin in reality:--

"There was a piper had a cow,
And nothing had to give her:
He took his pipe and played a tune--
'Consider, cow, consider.'"

A correspondent of the Penny Magazine says that, while on a visit to the country-house of a lady, it one day happened that they were passing the cow-house just at the time when the dairymaid was driving home the cows, to be milked. They all passed in quietly enough, with the exception of one, which stood lowing at the door, and resisted every effort of the dairymaid to induce her to enter. When the maid was interrogated as to the cause of this obstinacy, she attributed it to pride; and when surprise was expressed at this, she explained that, whenever any of the other cows happened to get before her, this particular cow would seem quite affronted, and would not enter at all, unless the others were turned out again. This statement having excited curiosity, the maid was desired to redouble her exertions to induce the cow to enter; on which she chased the animal through every corner of the yard, but without success, until she at last desisted, from want of breath, declaring that there was no other remedy than to turn out the other cows. She was then permitted to make the experiment; and no sooner were the others driven out, than in walked the gratified cow, with a stately air--her more humble-minded companions following in her rear.

THE BISON.

This animal is peculiar to North America, and wanders in vast herds over the western plains. They are much attracted by the soft, tender grass, which springs up after a fire has spread over the prairie. In winter, they scrape away the snow with their feet, to reach the grass. The bulls and cows live in separate herds for the greater part of the year; but at all seasons, one or two bulls generally accompany a large herd of cows. The bison is in general a shy animal, and takes to flight instantly on winding an enemy, which the acuteness of its sense of smell enables it to do from a great distance. They are less wary when they are assembled together in numbers, and will then often blindly follow their leaders, regardless of, or trampling down, the hunters posted in their way. It is dangerous for the sportsman to show himself after having wounded one, for it will pursue him, and, although its gait may be heavy and awkward, it will have no difficulty in overtaking the fleetest runner.

_Anecdotes._--Many instances might be mentioned of the pertinacity with which this animal pursues his revenge. We are told of a hunter having been detained for many hours in a tree by an old bull, which had taken its post below, to watch him. When it contends with a dog, it strikes violently with its fore feet, and in that way proves more than a match for an English bull-dog. The favorite Indian method of killing the bison, is by riding up to the fattest of the herd on horseback, and shooting it with an arrow. When a large party of hunters are engaged in this way, the spectacle is very imposing, and the young men have many opportunities of displaying their skill and agility. The horses appear to enjoy the sport as much as their riders, and are very active in eluding the shock of the animal, should it turn on its pursuer. The most common method, however, of shooting the bison, is by crawling towards them from to leeward; and in favorable places, great numbers are taken in pounds. When the bison runs, it leans very much first to one side, for a short space of time, and then to the other, and so on alternately.

When the Indians determine to destroy bisons, as they frequently do, by driving them over a precipice, one of their swiftest-footed and most active young men is selected, who is disguised in a bison skin, having the head, ears, and horns adjusted on his own head, so as to make the deception very complete; and, thus accoutred, he stations himself between the bison herd and some of the precipices that often extend for several miles along the rivers. The Indians surround the herd as nearly as possible, when, at a given signal, they show themselves, and rush forward with loud yells. The animals being alarmed, and seeing no way open but in the direction of the disguised Indian, run towards him, and he, taking to flight, dashes on to the precipice, where he suddenly secures himself in some previously ascertained crevice. The foremost of the herd arrives at the brink--there is no possibility of retreat, no chance of escape; the foremost may for an instant shrink with terror, but the crowd behind, who are terrified by the approaching hunters, rush forward with increasing impetuosity, and the aggregated force hurls them successively into the gulf, where certain death awaits them.

ORDER X.

CETACEA,

THE WHALE KIND.

This order contains a class of animals which live in the water, propel themselves by fins, and have the general form of fishes; yet they are viviparous, and suckle their young; in these respects forming a striking contrast to all the other finny inhabitants of the wave. The principal species are the dolphin, grampus, porpoise, and whale. The latter is remarkable as being by far the largest creature known to the animal kingdom.

THE DOLPHIN.

This animal usually swims in troops, and its motions in the water are performed with such wonderful rapidity, that the French sailors call it _la fleche de la mer_, or the sea-arrow. St. Pierre, in his "Voyage to the Isle of France," assures us that he saw a dolphin swim with apparent ease round the vessel in which he was sailing, though it was going at the rate of about six miles an hour. A shoal of dolphins followed the ships of Sir Richard Hawkins upwards of a thousand leagues. They were known to be the same, from the wounds they occasionally received from the sailors. They are greedy of almost any kind of scraps that are thrown overboard, and consequently are often caught by means of large iron hooks, baited with pieces of fish and garbage.

The bounding and gambolling of dolphins has attracted the attention of writers and poets in all ages, and is described as being extremely beautiful.

The ancients believed that dolphins attended all cases of shipwreck, and transported the mariners in safety to the shore. Piroetes, having made captive Arion, the poet, at length determined on throwing him overboard; and it is said that he escaped in safety to the shore on the back of a dolphin.

The poet says,--

"Kind, generous dolphins love the rocky shore,
Where broken waves with fruitless anger roar.
But though to sounding shores they curious come,
Yet dolphins count the boundless sea their home.
Nay, should these favorites forsake the main,
Neptune would grieve his melancholy reign.
The calmest, stillest seas, when left by them,
Would awful frown, and all unjoyous seem.
But when the darling frisks his wanton play,
The waters smile, and every wave looks gay."

THE GRAMPUS.

This inhabitant of the deep is from twenty to twenty-five feet in length, and seems to cherish a mortal spite against the whale. It possesses the strong affection for its young common to this order. One of the poems of Waller is founded upon the following incident: A grampus in England, with her cub, once got into an arm of the sea, where, by the desertion of the tide, they were enclosed on every side. The men on shore saw their situation, and ran down upon them with such weapons as they could at the moment collect. The poor animals were soon wounded in several places, so that all the immediately surrounding water was stained with their blood. They made many efforts to escape; and the old one, by superior strength, forced itself over the shallow, into a deep of the ocean. But though in safety herself, she would not leave her young one in the hands of assassins. She therefore again rushed in, and seemed resolved, since she could not prevent, at least to share, the fate of her offspring: the tide coming in, however, conveyed them both off in triumph.

THE PORPOISE.

This creature is familiar to every one who has been at sea, or who has frequented the bays and harbors along our coast. It may often be seen in troops gambolling in the water, and seeming like a drove of black hogs, with their backs above the waves. It is imagined by the sailors that they are the most sportive just before a storm. The following method is adopted for taking them on the banks of the St. Lawrence: When the fishing season arrives, the people collect together a great number of sallow twigs, or slender branches of other trees, and stick them pretty firmly into the sand-banks of the river, which at low water are left dry; this is done on the side towards the river, forming a long line of twigs at moderate distances, which at the upper end is connected with the shore, an opening being left at the lower end, that they may enter. As the tide rises, it covers the twigs, so as to keep them out of sight: the porpoise, in quest of his prey, gets within the line; when those who placed the snare rush out in numbers, properly armed, and, while in this defenceless state, they overpower him with ease.

THE WHALE.

Of this monster of the deep there are several species--as the Great Whale, which is seventy or eighty feet in length; the Spermaceti Whale, which is somewhat smaller, &c. They frequent various seas, and are most common in cold latitudes.

To the Greenlanders, as well as the natives of more southern climates, the whale is an animal of essential importance; and these people spend much time in fishing for it. When they set out on their whale-catching expeditions, they dress themselves in their best apparel, fancying that, if they are not cleanly and neatly clad, the whale, who detests a slovenly and dirty garb, would immediately avoid them. In this manner about fifty persons, men and women, set out together in one of their large boats. The women carry along with them their needles, and other implements, to mend their husbands' clothes, in case they should be torn, and to repair the boat, if it happen to receive any damage. When the men discover a whale, they strike it with their harpoons, to which are fastened lines or straps two or three fathoms long, made of seal-skin, having at the end a bag of a whole seal-skin, blown up. The huge animal, by means of the inflated bag, is in some degree compelled to keep near the surface of the water. When he is fatigued, and rises, the men attack him with their spears till he is killed.

The affection and fidelity of the male and female are very great. Anderson informs us that some fishermen having harpooned one of two whales that were in company together, the wounded animal made a long and terrible resistance; it upset a boat containing three men with a single blow of its tail, by which all went to the bottom. The other still attended its companion, and lent it every assistance, till at last the one that was struck sank under its wounds; while its faithful associate, disdaining to survive the loss, with great bellowing, stretched itself upon the dead animal, and shared its fate.

The whale is remarkable also for its attachment to its young, and may be frequently seen urging and assisting them to escape from danger, with the most unceasing care and fondness. They are not less remarkable for strong feeling of sociality and attachment to one another. This is carried to so great an extent, that, where one female of a herd is attacked or wounded, her faithful companions will remain around her to the last moment, until they are wounded themselves. This act of remaining by a wounded companion is called "heaving to," and whole "schools," or herds, have been destroyed by dexterous management, when several ships have been in company, wholly from their possessing this remarkable disposition.

In the year 1814, an English harpooner struck a cub, in hopes of attracting the attention of the mother. When the young one was wounded, the whale rose to the surface, seized the cub, and dragged a hundred fathoms of line from the boat with great velocity. She again rose to the surface, and dashed furiously about, seemingly deeply concerned for the fate of her young one. Although closely pursued, she did not again descend; and, regardless of the surrounding danger, continued in this state, till she received three harpoons, and was at length killed.

There are few incidents in which the enterprise and power of man are more strikingly displayed than in the chase and capture of the whale. It would be easy to fill a volume with thrilling tales of adventure in this hazardous vocation. One of the most curious occurrences upon record, in relation to the whale fishery, happened to a Nantucket ship some years since in the Pacific Ocean. An attack having been made upon a young whale, the dam went to a distance, and, turning toward the ship, came against the bow with a terrific force, which beat it in, and the vessel sank, only allowing time for the hands to get into the boat. In this they roamed upon the ocean for several weeks, and, when emaciated to the last degree by fatigue and privation, they were finally picked up and saved.

CLASS II. AVES.... BIRDS.

It is evident that this class of animals are generally destined to live a portion of their time in the air, and to perch upon trees. The scientific naturalist is struck with admiring wonder when he comes to examine the adaptation of these creatures to their modes of life. The ingenuity of contrivance, in giving strength, yet lightness, to the frame of the bird, is perhaps unequalled in the whole compass of animated nature. Nor are the feathered races less interesting to common observers. They are associated in the mind with all that is romantic and beautiful in scenery. Their mysterious emigrations, at stated seasons, from land to land; their foresight of calm and storm; their melody and beauty; and that wonderful construction by which some of them are fitted for land and air, and others for swimming,--these contribute to render them an unfailing source of interest to mankind at large.

The birds are divided into six orders, under each of which we shall notice a few of the more prominent species.

ORDER I.

ACCIPITRES,

BIRDS OF PREY.

VULTURES.

The CONDOR.--This is not only the largest of vultures, but the largest known bird of flight. It is common in the regions of the Andes, in South America, and is occasionally found as far north as the Rocky Mountains of the United States. Nuttall gives us the following characteristic sketch of this fierce and formidable bird:--

"A pair of condors will attack a cougar, a deer, or a llama: pursuing it for a long time, they will occasionally wound it with their bills and claws, until the unfortunate animal, stifled, and overcome with fatigue, extends its tongue and groans; on which occasion the condor seizes this member, being a very tender and favorite morsel, and tears out the eyes of its prey, which at length falls to the earth and expires. The greedy bird then gorges himself, and rests, in stupidity and almost gluttonous inebriation, upon the highest neighboring rocks. He can then be easily taken, as he is so gorged that he cannot fly."

_Vultures in Africa._--Mr. Pringle describes these birds as follows: "They divide with the hyaenas the office of carrion scavengers; and the promptitude with which they discover and devour every dead carcass is truly surprising. They also instinctively follow any band of hunters, or party of men travelling, especially in solitary places, wheeling in circles high in the air, ready to pounce down upon any game that may be shot and not instantly secured, or the carcass of any ox, or other animal, that may perish on the road. In a field of battle, no one ever buries the dead; the vultures and beasts of prey relieve the living of that trouble."

TURKEY BUZZARD and CARRION CROW.--These are two small species of vulture, common in our Southern States, and may be often seen in the cities, prowling for such offals as may fall in their way. Wilson furnishes us with the following sketch: "Went out to Hampstead this forenoon. A horse had dropped down in the street, in convulsions; and dying, it was dragged out to Hampstead, and skinned. The ground, for a hundred yards beyond it, was black with carrion crows; many sat on the tops of sheds, fences, and houses within sight; sixty or eighty in the opposite side of a small run. I counted, at one time, two hundred and thirty-seven; but I believe there were more, besides several in the air over my head, and at a distance. I ventured cautiously within thirty yards of the carcass, which three or four dogs, and twenty or thirty vultures, were busily tearing and devouring. Seeing them take no notice, I ventured nearer, till I was within ten yards, and sat down on the bank. On observing that they did not heed me, I stole so close that my feet were within one yard of the horse's legs, and I again sat down. They all slid aloof a few feet; but seeing me quiet, they soon returned as before. As they were often disturbed by the dogs, I ordered the latter home: my voice gave no alarm to the vultures. As soon as the dogs departed, the vultures crowded in such numbers, that I counted, at one time, thirty-seven on and around the carcass, with several within; so that scarcely an inch of it was visible."

HAWKS.

The PEREGRINE FALCON.--Of this species, so celebrated, in former times, for being used in the noble sport of falconry, Mr. Selby gives us an interesting anecdote. "In exercising my dogs upon the moors, previous to the shooting season," says he, "I observed a large bird, of the hawk genus, hovering at a distance, which, upon approaching it, I knew to be a peregrine falcon. Its attention was now drawn towards the dogs, and it accompanied them whilst they beat the surrounding ground. Upon their having found and sprung a brood of grouse, the falcon immediately gave chase, and struck a young bird before they had proceeded far upon the wing. My shouts and rapid advance prevented it from securing its prey. The issue of this attempt, however, did not deter the falcon from watching our subsequent movements, and, another opportunity soon offering, it again gave chase, and struck down two birds, by two rapidly repeated blows, one of which it secured, and bore off in triumph."