Chapter V: Introduction: Science (4)

The distances that cats will travel, finding their way with unerring instinct many miles across country of which there seems no reason to suppose them to have had previous knowledge is very remarkable. Mrs. Bowdich records the case of a cat who disliking her new home, returned to her old one, in doing which, she had to cross two rivers, one of them about eighty feet broad and two feet and a half deep, running strong; the other wider and more rapid, but less deep. Cats are said to have found their way from Edinburgh to Glasgow, and one to the writer's knowledge returned from Dover to Canterbury after being carried from thence by rail. Captain Brown gives the following remarkable instance. In June, 1825, a farmer, residing in the neighbourhood of Ross, sent a load of grain to Gloucester, a distance of about sixteen miles. The waggoners loaded in the evening, and started early in the morning. On unloading at Gloucester, a favourite cat, belonging to the farmer, was found among the sacks, with two kittens of very recent birth. The waggoner very humanely placed puss and her young in a hay-loft, where he expected they would remain in safety, until he should be ready to depart for home. On his return to the loft shortly afterwards, neither cat nor kittens were to be found, and he reluctantly left town without them. Next morning the cat entered the kitchen of her master's house with one kitten in her mouth. It was dead; but she placed it before the fire, and without seeking food, or indulging, for a moment, in the genial warmth of her domestic hearth, disappeared again. In a short time she returned with the other kitten, laid it down by the first, stretched herself beside them, and instantly expired! The poor creature could have carried but one at a time, and, consequently, must have travelled three times over the whole line of her journey, and performed forty-eight miles in less than twelve hours.

The Cat as Sportsman.

The favourite food of the cat is fish, which curiously enough inhabits an element to which the cat has a great aversion. There are, however, numerous instances on record of cats which have overcome their natural antipathy to water in order to gratify their natural taste for fish. An extraordinary case of this kind is recorded in the _Plymouth Journal_, June, 1828:--"There is now at the battery on the Devil's Point, a cat, which is an expert catcher of the finny tribe, being in the constant habit of diving into the sea, and bringing up the fish alive in her mouth, and depositing them in the guard-room, for the use of the soldiers. She is now seven years old, and has long been a useful caterer. It is supposed that her pursuit of the water-rats first taught her to venture into the water, to which it is well known puss has a natural aversion. She is as fond of the water as a Newfoundland dog, and takes her regular peregrinations along the rocks at its edge, looking out for her prey, ready to dive for them at a moment's notice."

Mr. Beverley R. Morris says: "When living in Worcester many years ago, I remember frequently seeing the cat of a near neighbour of ours bring fish, mostly eels, into the house, which it used to catch in a pond not far off. This was an almost everyday occurrence."

The Cat's Intelligence.

Many remarkable illustrations might be given of the sagacity and intelligence of the cat. A lady had for many years been the possessor of a cat and a canary bird, who became the closest friends, never bearing any lengthy separation from each other, and spending their whole time in each other's society. One summer day the lady was sitting working in her drawing-room, and the cat and bird were a short distance off. Suddenly, without a moment's deliberation, the cat, to the great astonishment of the lady, uttered a loud growl, and then, seizing her little playmate in her mouth, darted off with it to a place of safety. A strange cat had entered the room and the friendly one had adopted this plan of saving the bird from the enemy. A still more remarkable illustration of the intelligence of a cat is given by De la Croix as follows: "I once saw," says he, "a lecturer upon experimental philosophy place a cat under the glass receiver of an air-pump, for the purpose of demonstrating that very certain fact, that life cannot be supported without air and respiration. The lecturer had already made several strokes with the piston, in order to exhaust the receiver of its air, when the animal, who began to feel herself very uncomfortable in the rarefied atmosphere, was fortunate enough to discover the source from which her uneasiness proceeded. She placed her paw upon the hole through which the air escaped, and thus prevented any more from passing out of the receiver. All the exertions of the philosopher were now unavailing; in vain he drew the piston; the cat's paw effectually prevented its operation. Hoping to effect his purpose, he let air again into the receiver, which, as soon as the cat perceived, she withdrew her paw from the aperture; but whenever he attempted to exhaust the receiver, she applied her paw as before. All the spectators clapped their hands in admiration of the wonderful sagacity of the animal, and the lecturer found himself under the necessity of liberating her, and substituting in her place another, that possessed less penetration, and enabled him to exhibit the cruel experiment."

The Lynx.

The several species of the Lynx belong to the genus Lyncus, the principle varieties of which are the Canada Lynx, and the European Lynx. The Lynx has short legs, and is generally about the size of a fox, attaining often to three feet in length. It preys upon small quadrupeds and birds, in the pursuit of which it is an expert climber. The Canada Lynx preys largely upon the American hare, which it is well qualified to hunt. The Lynx is distinguished by a peculiar gait, for unlike other animals, it bounds with, and alights upon, all four feet at once. The ears are erect, and tipped with a long pencil of black hair. The fur which is long and thick is of a pale grey colour, with a reddish tinge, marked with dusky spots on the upper part of the body. The under parts are white. The European Lynx feeds upon small animals and birds. The fur of the lynx is valuable, on account of its great softness and warmth, and is in consequence an extensive article of commerce. It inhabits the northern parts of Europe, Asia, and America; and prefers cold or temperate climates, differing in this respect from most of the cat tribe.

The Chetah.

The Chetah or Hunting Leopard is the one species of the genus Cyn[oe]lurus. It is a handsome animal and capable of considerable training. According to Mr. Benet's description it is "intermediate in size between the leopard and the hound, more slender in its body, more elevated in its legs, and less flattened on the fore part of its head than the leopard, while deficient in the peculiarly graceful and lengthened form, both of head and body, which characterizes the hound." "The ground colour of the Chetah is a bright yellowish fawn above, and nearly pure white beneath; covered above, and on the sides, by innumerable closely approximating spots, from half an inch to an inch in diameter, which are intensely black, and do not, as in the leopard and other spotted cats, form roses with a lighter centre, but are full and complete." The Chetah is found in India and Africa but it is only in India that it is trained for hunting purposes. Sir William Jardine says: "the employment of the hunting leopard may be compared to the sport of falconry. The natural instinct teaches them to pursue the game, the reward of a portion of it, or of the blood, induces them to give it up, and again subject themselves to their master."

The Chetah as a Huntsman.

The practice of employing animals to hunt animals is of very early origin, and the docility of the Chetah early marked him out as a suitable ally in the chase. Chetahs are so gentle that they can be led about in a leash like greyhounds. The following description of a hunt is from "The Naturalist's Library". "Just before we reached our ground, the shuter suwars (camel courier), who always moved on our flanks in search of game, reported a herd of antelopes, about a mile out of the line of march, and the Chetahs being at hand, we went in pursuit of them. The leopards are each accommodated with a flat-topped cart, without sides, drawn by two bullocks, and each animal has two attendants. They are loosely bound by a collar and rope to the back of the vehicle, and are also held by the keeper by a strap round the loins. A leathern hood covers the eyes. On entering from a cotton field, we came in sight of four antelopes, and my driver managed to get within a hundred yards of them before they took alarm. The Chetah was quickly unhooded and loosed from his bonds; and, as soon as he viewed the deer, he dropped quietly off the cart on the opposite side to that on which they stood, and approached them at a slow crouching canter, masking himself by every bush, and inequality, which lay in his way. As soon, however, as the deer began to show alarm, he quickened his pace and was in the midst of them in a few bounds. He singled out a doe, and ran it close for about 200 yards, when he reached it with a blow of his paw, rolled it over, and in an instant was sucking the life blood from its throat." "As soon as the deer is pulled," says the same account, "a keeper runs up, hoods the Chetah, cuts the victim's throat, and securing some of the blood in a wooden ladle, thrusts it under the leopard's nose. The antelope is then dragged away and placed in a receptacle under the hatchery, while the Chetah is rewarded with a leg for his pains."

The Civits.

The family Viverridæ includes a large number of species of small carnivorous animals of which the Civits and the Ichneumons are the best known. They belong chiefly to Africa and South Asia, but some are found in the south of Europe. The African Civit hails from Gaboon and Abyssinia and the Asiatic variety from Bengal, Nepaul, China and Formosa. It is from these animals that we get the fatty substance, used in perfumery and known as civit. Of this Mr. Piesse says: "In its pure state, civit has to nearly all persons a most disgusting odour, but when diluted to an infinitesimal portion its perfume is agreeable. The Genet, and the Paradoxure are other genera of this family."

The Ichneumon.

The Ichneumon numbers some fifteen genera, and sixty species. The best known of these is the grey Ichneumon which comes from India or adjacent countries. Naturally savage it soon becomes tame under kindly treatment. It seems to have a natural enmity towards serpents, which it attacks and destroys. The Mahrattas say that it neutralizes the effects of snake bites by eating the root of the monguswail. Captain Brown records an experiment in which the ichneumon was placed in a room with a poisonous serpent which it tried to avoid. On the two being removed to the open air, the ichneumon is said to have immediately darted at the serpent and destroyed it, afterwards retiring to the wood and eating a portion of the plant said to be an antidote to the serpent's venom. The Ichneumon is about the size of the domestic cat and of a dark silver grey colour. The Egyptian Ichneumon much resembles the cat in its habits and manners and is so deadly a foe to reptiles and vermin, that it is domesticated with a view to their destruction. It is remarkably quick in its movements, darting with unerring aim at the head of the reptile it attacks. It displays also the cat's patience in watching for its prey. It has a great liking for crocodile's eggs and with remarkable instinct unearths them from the banks of rivers where they have been deposited.

Dormant Instinct.

Though perfectly tame in captivity, the natural instincts of the ichneumon are only dormant, as the following illustration will show. M. d'Obsonville says, in his "Essay on the Nature of Various Animals", "I had an ichneumon very young, which I brought up. I fed it at first with milk, and afterwards with baked meat, mixed with rice. It soon became even tamer than a cat; for it came when called, and followed me, though at liberty, into the country. One day I brought to him a small water serpent alive, being desirous to know how far his instinct would carry him, against a being with which he was hitherto totally unacquainted. His first emotion seemed to be astonishment, mixed with anger: for his hair became erect; but in an instant after, he slipped behind the reptile, and, with remarkable swiftness and agility, leaped upon its head, seized it, and crushed it between his teeth. This essay, and new aliment, seemed to have awakened in him his innate and destructive voracity, which, till then, had given way to the gentleness he had acquired from his education. I had about my house several curious kinds of fowls, among which he had been brought up, and which, till then, he had suffered to go and come unmolested and unregarded; but, a few days after, when he found himself alone, he strangled them every one, eat a little, and, as it appeared, drank the blood of two."

The Aard Wolf.

The Aard Wolf of South Africa, is the sole genus and species of the Protelidæ family. It much resembles the hyæna in appearance and habit, and feeds on carrion and white ants.

The Hyæna.

The Hyæna, though long treated as a member of the dog family, is now separately classified as the Hyænidæ, a family of one genus and three species, all of which are found in Africa. The Hyæna is also found in Egypt, Arabia, Persia and other parts of Asia. He has immensely powerful teeth with which he can crush the bones of his victims, apparently eating bones and flesh with impunity. He is nocturnal in his habits, living in caves and hollows in the day time and prowling about at night in search of prey. Speaking of the Barbary hyæna Bruce says:--"He seems to be stupid or senseless in the day, or at the appearance of strong light, unless when pursued by hunters. I have locked up a goat, a kid, and a lamb, with him all day when he was fasting, and found them in the evening alive and unhurt." The principle varieties are the striped Hyæna, and the spotted Hyæna. Bruce speaking of the former says, "he is brutish, indolent, slovenly and impudent and seems to possess much the manners of the wolf. His courage appears to proceed from an insatiable appetite, and has nothing of the brave or generous in it, and he dies oftener flying than fighting." The cry of the hyæna, sometimes called a laugh, begins with a moan and ends with a demoniacal shriek which has been variously described by travellers but which all agree in calling hideous and disgusting. In size he resembles a large mastiff, but the formation of his neck and jaws give him a power far beyond that of other animals of his size. Whatever fear he may have of man, he has none of other animals and will even face the lion. Bruce speaks of his special liking for the flesh of the dog and of the dog's reluctance to face him. "My greyhounds, accustomed to fasten upon the wild boar, would not venture to engage with him. On the contrary, there was not a journey I made that he did not kill several of my greyhounds, and once or twice robbed me of my whole stock: he would seek and seize them in the servants' tents where they were tied, and endeavour to carry them away before the very people that were guarding them." His coat is covered with long coarse hairs of a dirty grey colour, which form a mane the length of his back, his sides being striped or spotted, according to the species. The hyæna for all his repulsiveness serves a useful purpose, as a scavenger, devouring all the offal which comes in its way, including the dead of his own species which no other animal will touch. The hyæna can be tamed and taught to follow its master and to hunt other animals.

The Striped Hyæna.

Bruce tells the following story of the impudence of the striped hyæna. "One night in Maitsha, being very intent on observation, I heard something pass behind me towards the bed, but upon looking round could perceive nothing. Having finished what I was then about, I went out of my tent, resolving directly to return, which I immediately did, when I perceived large blue eyes glaring at me in the dark. I called upon my servant with a light; and there was the hyæna standing nigh the head of the bed, with two or three large bunches of candles in his mouth. To have fired at him, I was in danger of breaking my quadrant or other furniture; and he seemed, by keeping the candles steadily in his mouth, to wish for no other prey at that time. As his mouth was full, and he had no claws to tear with, I was not afraid of him, but with a pike struck him as near the heart as I could judge. It was not till then he showed any sign. of fierceness; but, upon feeling his wound, he let drop the candles, and endeavoured to run up the shaft of the spear to arrive at me; so that, in self-defence, I was obliged to draw out a pistol from my girdle and shoot him, and nearly at the same time my servant cleft his skull with a battle-axe. In a word, the hyæna was the plague of our lives, the terror of our night-walks, the destruction of our mules and asses, which above all others are his favourite food."

The Spotted Hyæna.

The spotted hyæna belongs to South Africa and seems to possess more daring than his cousin of Abyssinia, and to show a greater preference for human food. According to Mr. Stepstone, the Mambookies build their houses in the form of a beehive from eighteen to twenty feet in diameter, placing a raised platform at the back and leaving the front-area for the accommodation of the calves at night. Thus the animals are nearest to the door, notwithstanding which the hyæna will "pass by the calves and take the children from under the mother's kaross; and this in such a gentle and cautious manner, that the poor parent is unconscious of her loss, until the cries of her little innocent have reached her from without, when it has been a close prisoner in the jaws of the monster." Many years ago, when animals were kept at the Tower of London, the den of a spotted hyæna required some repair. "The carpenter," says Mrs. Bowdich, "nailed a thick oaken plank upon the floor, about seven feet long, putting at least a dozen nails into it, each longer than his middle finger. At one end of this piece of wood there was a small projection, and not having a proper chisel with him by which he might remove it, the man returned to his shop to fetch one. While he was absent some persons came to see the animals, and the hyæna was let down by the keeper into the part of the den in which the carpenter had been at work. Directly the beast saw the projecting piece of wood he seized it with his teeth, tore the plank up, and drew out every nail with the utmost ease; which action will give a good idea of the muscular strength of this creature."

A Narrow Escape.

Sparrman tells an amusing story of the daring and the fright of a hyæna, as follows: "One night, at a feast near the Cape, a trumpeter who had made himself drunk with liquor was carried out of doors and laid on the grass, in order that the air might both cool and sober him. The scent of the man soon attracted a spotted hyæna, which threw him on his back, and carried him away towards Table Mountain. The hyæna doubtless supposed that the senseless drunkard was a _corpse_, and consequently a fair prize. In the meantime the musician awoke, and was at once sufficiently sensible to know the danger of his situation, and to sound the alarm with his trumpet, which he fortunately carried at his side. The hyæna, as it may be imagined, was greatly frightened in its turn, and immediately ran away, leaving the trumpeter, it is to be hoped, 'a wiser man' for his extraordinary ride. It is remarkable that the soldier was not seriously injured by the hyæna, for the teeth of the animal were fortunately fastened in the coat and not in the flesh of the man."

Animals of the Dog Kind.

Animals of the dog kind, are neither so numerous, nor, in general, so ferocious as those of the panther or cat kind. The principal species are the wolf, the jackal, the fox, and the dog. This class may be principally distinguished by their claws, which have no sheath like those of the cat kind, but are placed at the point of each toe, without the capability of being stretched forward or drawn back. The nose, as well as the jaw, of all the dog kind, is longer than in the cat; the body in proportion more strongly made, and covered with hair instead of fur. They also far exceed the other kind in the sense of smell, the olfactory nerves being diffused upon a very extensive membrane within the skull, which accounts for their surprising acuteness in this sense.

The Wolf.

The Wolf is about three feet and a half long, and about two feet and a half high, larger than our great breed of mastiffs, which are seldom more than three feet by two. He bears a great resemblance to the dog, but is much stronger, and the length of his hair contributes still more to his robust appearance. The feature which principally distinguishes the visage of the wolf from that of the dog, is the eye, which opens slantingly upwards in the same direction with the nose; whereas, in the dog, it opens more at right angles with the nose, as in man. The colour of the eyeballs in the wolf, is a fiery green, giving his visage a fierce and formidable air. He generally hides by day in the thickest coverts, and only ventures out at night; when, sallying forth over the country, he keeps peering round the villages, and carries off such animals as are not under protection--attacks the sheep-fold, scratches up and undermines the thresholds of doors where the sheep are housed, enters furiously, and destroys all before he begins to fix upon and carry off his prey. The wolf has great strength, particularly in his foreparts, and the muscles of his neck and jaws. He carries off a sheep in his mouth without letting it touch the ground, and runs with it much faster than the shepherds who pursue him; so that nothing but the dogs can overtake and oblige him to quit his prey. Notwithstanding his great strength, cunning, and agility, the wolf being the declared enemy of man, is often hard pressed for subsistence; he has always a gaunt and starved appearance, and, indeed, often dies of hunger. He has been hunted down, and is now rarely to be found in civilized countries.

The Fox.

The Fox is of a much more slender make than the wolf, and not nearly so large, being little more than two feet long. The tail is longer and more bushy, the nose smaller, approaching nearer to that of the greyhound, and its hair softer. Its eyes, however, are obliquely set, like those of the wolf. The fox has long been famous for cunning; he is patient and prudent, and gains by address what is denied to his courage or strength. He is most destructive to poultry. When he gets into a farm-yard, he begins by levelling all the poultry without remorse, and carrying off a part of the spoil, he hides it at some convenient distance. Returning, he carries off another fowl, which he hides in like manner, but not in the same place; and this he repeats several times, until the approach of day, or the noise of the domestics, warns him to retire to his hole. He often destroys a large quantity of game, seizing the partridge and quail while sitting on their nests. He even eats rats, mice, serpents, toads, and lizards. In vain does the hedge-hog roll itself up into a ball to oppose him; he teases it until it is obliged to appear uncovered, and then devours it. Besides the common Fox (_Vulpes Vulgaris_), there are numerous varieties, of which the Tahaleb or Egyptian Fox and the Fennec (_Feneca Zaarensis_) of North Africa, the Kit Fox, the Red, the Grey and the Silver Fox of North America, and the Arctic Fox (_Leucocyon lagopus_) are the best known.

The Jackal.

The Jackal, one of the most common of wild animals in the East, is about the size of the fox, but in shape it more nearly resembles the wolf. Its colour is a bright yellow, or sorrel. Its cry is a howl, mixed with barking, and a lamentation resembling that of human distress. The jackal may be considered as the vulture of the quadruped kind; the most putrid substances that once had life, are greedily devoured. Like the hyæna, the jackals scratch up with their feet the new-made grave, and devour the contents, however decomposed. While at this dreary work, they make a mournful cry, like that of children under chastisement, and having thus dug up the body, they amicably share it. In countries, therefore, where they abound, the people are obliged to beat the earth over the grave, and mix it with thorns, to prevent the jackals from scraping it away. The jackal never goes alone, but always in packs of forty or fifty together. They watch the burying-grounds, follow armies, and keep in the rear of caravans. The jackal, after having tired down its prey, is often deprived of the spoil by the lion, the panther, or the tiger, whose appetites are superior to their swiftness; these attend its call, and devour the prey which it has run down by its unceasing perseverance; and this circumstance has given rise to the erroneous opinion, that the jackal is the lion's provider. The jackal is found in some parts of Europe and abounds in most parts of Asia. Those of the warmest climates are the largest, and their colour is rather of a reddish brown than of that beautiful yellow by which the smaller jackals are distinguished. Like the Fox it forms burrows in the earth and emits an offensive odour.

The Wolf's Mode of Attack.

"The Wolf," says Professor Duncan in "Cassell's Natural History", "usually lives in solitary places in mountains; but in Spain he is said sometimes to make his lair in corn-fields, in close proximity to inhabited dwellings. Here he lives with his wife and family, usually _caché_ during the day, and issuing forth at night to take his prey. During the warmer periods of the year wolves, as a rule, hunt each one for himself, but in winter they often unite into great packs, and pursue their prey over the snow at a rapid pace and with indomitable perseverance. Swift and untiring must be the animal which, on an open plain, can escape from them; even the horse, perfectly constructed as he is for rapid running, is almost certain to succumb, unless he can reach a village before his pace begins to flag. They never spring upon an animal from an ambush--the nearest approach ever made to such a mode of attack being their practice of attacking sheepfolds by leaping into the midst of the flock and killing right and left; when they reach their prey, too, the first onslaught is made with their teeth, and never by a blow of the paw. Thus, a wolfs attack--like that of all members of the genus Canis--is entirely different from a cat's. The cat lies in ambush all alone, springs upon the passing prey, which if he misses he scarcely ever pursues, and kills by a blow of the paw. The dog and wolf attack openly, sometimes alone, but oftener in company, pursue their prey with unflagging energy until it falls a victim, and give the death-wound at once with their teeth."

The Wolf's Cunning.

That the wolf sometimes employs cunning as well as savagery in seeking his prey is shown by the following story from "Broke's Travels in the North of Sweden": "I observed, on setting out from Sormjole, the last post, that the peasant who drove my sledge was armed with a cutlass; and, on inquiring the reason, was told that, the day preceding, while he was passing in his sledge the part of the forest we were then in, he had encountered a wolf, which was so daring, that it actually sprang over the hinder part of the sledge he was driving, and attempted to carry off a small dog which was sitting behind him. During my journey from Tornea to Stockholm, I heard everywhere of the ravages committed by wolves, not upon the human species or the cattle, but chiefly upon the peasants' dogs, considerable numbers of which had been devoured. I was told that these were the favourite prey of this animal; and that, in order to seize upon them with the greater ease, it puts itself into a crouching posture, and begins to play several antic tricks, to attract the attention of the poor dog, which, caught by these seeming demonstrations of friendship, and fancying it to be one of his own species, from the similarity, advances towards it to join in the gambols, and is carried off by its treacherous enemy. Several peasants that I conversed with mentioned their having been eye-witnesses of this circumstance."

The Wolf's Cowardice.

Mr. Lloyd in his "Field Sports in the North of Europe" gives a remarkable illustration of the cowardice of the wolf when caught in a trap. "A peasant near St. Petersburg," says Mr. Lloyd, "when one day in his sledge, was pursued by eleven of these ferocious animals. At this time he was only about two miles from home, towards which he urged his horse at the very top of his speed. At the entrance to his residence was a gate, which happened to be closed at the time; but the horse dashed this open, and thus himself and his master found refuge within the court-yard. They were followed, however, by nine out of the eleven wolves; but, very fortunately, at the instant these had entered the enclosure, the gate swung back on its hinges, and thus they were caught as in a trap. From being the most voracious of animals, the nature of these beasts--now that they found escape impossible--became completely changed: so far, indeed, from offering molestation to any one, they slunk into holes and corners, and allowed themselves to be slaughtered almost without making resistance."

Hunted by Wolves.

Many terrible stories are told of the depredations caused by packs of wolves, especially in Russia, and of the desperate adventures travellers have met with when attacked by them. The story of the Russian peasant, who, to save his master's family, leaped out of the sledge and faced the pack alone, thus delaying the wolves by his own self-sacrifice, while the sledge proceeded on its journey, is one of these. In contrast to this is the story of the Russian woman, given by Mr. Lloyd in the work already quoted.

A Terrible Alternative.

A woman, accompanied by three of her children, was one day in a sledge, when they were pursued by a number of wolves. She put the horse into a gallop, and drove towards her home with the utmost speed. She was not far from it; but the ferocious animals gained upon her, and were on the point of rushing on to the sledge. For the preservation of her own life and that of the remaining children, the poor, frantic creature cast one of them to her bloodthirsty pursuers. This stopped their career for a moment; but, after devouring the poor child, they renewed the pursuit, and a second time came up with the vehicle. The mother, driven to desperation, resorted to the same horrible expedient, and threw another of her offspring to her ferocious assailants. The third child was also sacrificed in the same way, and soon after the wretched being reached her home in safety. Here she related what had happened, and endeavoured to palliate her own conduct by describing the dreadful alternative to which she had been, reduced. A peasant, however, who was among the bystanders, and heard the recital, took up an axe, and with one blow cleft her skull in two, saying at the same time, "that a mother who could thus sacrifice her children for the preservation of her own life, was no longer fit to live." The man was committed to prison, but the Emperor subsequently granted him a pardon.

A Marvellous Escape.

Equally terrible and more marvellous is the story of the adventure of a Russian family which took place as recently as the winter of 1894-5. A peasant was riding in a sleigh in company with his wife and child, when he became aware that they were being pursued by wolves. He urged the horses to their utmost speed but it soon became evident that the wolves would overtake them before they could reach a place of safety. Urged to desperation, the peasant ordered his wife to throw the child to the wolves, hoping thereby to gain time and thus escape. The wife refused to part with her little one, whereupon an altercation ensued, during which the peasant tried to drag the child from her arms with a view to throwing it to the wolves himself. In the struggle both mother and child fell from the vehicle, and with a lightened load the horses dashed forward at an even greater speed. For some apparently unaccountable reason, however, the wolves took no notice of the mother and child and continued to pursue the sleigh, possibly anticipating the larger meal that the horses would supply. In this they were not disappointed, for they succeeded in overtaking the sleigh, and the peasant and the horses fell victims to their ravage. In the meantime the mother and child found their way to a farm house where they were sheltered until danger was past.

Tame Wolves.

Notwithstanding his natural fierceness, the wolf becomes tame under kindly treatment, and shows much affection for those who cherish him. Instances are common in which wolves have remembered their benefactors, after years of absence, and have shown every demonstration of joy on recognition. They have even been harnessed and taught to draw carriages and to fulfil other useful offices. With wolves, as with many other animals, hunger and thirst are apparently the principal causes of savagery and the struggle for existence the main cause of rapacity and cruelty.

The Cunning of the Fox.

The cunning of the fox is proverbial and if only one half of the stories told about him are true, there are quite sufficient to invest him with a degree of artfulness which is apparently unique. The extraordinary way in which he will feign himself dead, whether when hunting or being hunted, is a proof of this, as are also the various tricks he will resort to, to throw his pursuers off the scent. Captain Brown tells a story of a fox who leapt a high wall and crouched under it on the further side until the hounds had passed over, and then quietly returned, giving them the slip. Another fox who suddenly baffled two blood hounds who were in hot pursuit, was discovered lying full length upon a log of wood from which at first it was difficult to distinguish him. When feigning death he is said sometimes to hold his breath and hang out his tongue. He will sometimes baffle his pursuers by hanging on to a branch of a tree.

The Fox as a Hunter.

Mr. St. John tells the following story of the fox as a hunter:--"Just after it was daylight I saw a large fox come very quietly along the edge of the plantation. He looked with great care over the turf wall into the field, and seemed to long very much to get hold of some of the hares that were feeding in it, but apparently knew that he had no chance of catching one by dint of running. After considering a short time, he seemed to have formed his plans, examined the different gaps in the wall, fixed upon one which appeared to be most frequented, and laid himself down close to it in an attitude like that of a cat at a mouse hole. In the meantime I watched all his plans. He then with great care and silence scraped a small hollow in the ground, throwing up the sand as a kind of screen. Every now and then, however, he stopped to listen, and sometimes to take a most cautious peep into the field. When he had done this, he laid himself down in a convenient posture for springing on his prey, and remained perfectly motionless, with the exception of an occasional reconnoitre of the feeding hares. When the sun began to rise, they came, one by one, from the field to the plantation: three had already come without passing by his ambush, one within twenty yards of him; but he made no movement beyond crouching still more flatly to the ground. Presently two came directly towards him, and though he did not venture to look up, I saw, by an involuntary motion of his ear, that those quick organs had already warned him of their approach. The two hares came through the gap together and the fox, springing with the quickness of lightning, caught one and killed her immediately; he then lifted up his booty and was carrying it off, when my rifle-ball stopped his course."

A Fox Hunt.

Captain Brown tells an amusing story of the resource shown by a fox who was hard pressed near Tamary, Ireland, which is as follows. "After a short chase, Reynard disappeared, having cunningly mounted a turf stack, on the top of which he lay down flat. Finding himself, at last, perceived by one of the hounds, he left his retreat, closely pursued by the pack, ran up a stone wall, from which he sprang on the roof of an adjoining cabin, and mounted to the chimney-top. From that elevated situation he looked all around him, as if carefully reconnoitring the coming enemy. A cunning old hound approached, and, having gained the summit of the roof, had already seized the fox in imagination, when, lo! Reynard dropped down the chimney, like a fallen star into a draw-well. The dog looked wistfully down the dark opening, but dared not pursue the fugitive. Meantime, whilst the hound was eagerly inspecting the smoky orifice of the chimney, Reynard, half enrobed in soot, had fallen into the lap of an old woman, who, surrounded by a number of children, was gravely smoking her pipe, not at all expecting the entrance of this abrupt visitor. 'Emiladh deouil!' said the affrighted female, as she threw from her the black and red quadruped: Reynard grinned, growled, and showed his fangs; and when the sportsmen, who had secured the door, entered, they found him in possession of the kitchen, the old woman and the children having retired, in terror of the invader, to a corner of the room. The fox was taken alive."

The Arctic Fox.

The Arctic Fox, which is of a beautiful white colour, is found, according to Captain James Ross, in the highest northern latitudes, even in the winter. In the late autumn the younger generation make their way south and congregate in the neighbourhood of Hudson's Bay, returning north in the early spring of the following year. They are gregarious, living in companies in burrows in sandy places.

Wild Dogs.

Wild dogs abound in various parts of the world, of which the Dingos of Australia, the Dholes of India and the Aguaras of South America are examples. The wild dogs of the East are familiar to all readers of Eastern travels. A writer in the Times newspaper describes the dogs of Constantinople, as "omnipresent, lawless, yet perfectly harmless dogs," which perform valuable but ill requited service as scavengers of the city. He says:--"In shape, in countenance, in language, in their bandy legs, pointed noses, pricked up ears, dirty yellow coats, and bushy tails, they could be hunted as foxes in Gloucestershire. They are," he continues, "up and doing from sunset to sunrise, and enjoy the refreshment of well-earned, profound sleep almost throughout the day. They are not only homeless and masterless but have also a sovereign contempt for bed or shelter. There is a time it would seem, when sleep comes upon them--all of them--like sudden death; when all squat down, coil themselves up, nose to tail, wherever they chance to be--on the footpath, in the carriage way, in the gutter--and there lie in the sunshine, in the pelting rain, yellow bundles, hardly distinguishable from the mud. The Constantinople dog never learns to wag his tail; he never makes up, never looks up to a human being, never encourages or even notices men's advances. He is not exactly sullen, or cowed, or mistrustful; he is simply cold and distant as an Englishman is said to be when not introduced."

"The Dingo, the wild dog of Australia," says Mrs. Bowdich "roams in packs through that vast country; has a broad head; fierce oblique eyes; acute muzzle; short, pointed, erect ears; tail bushy, and never raised to more than a horizontal position. He does not bark, but howls fearfully; is extremely sagacious, and has a remarkable power of bearing pain. When beaten so severely as to be left for dead, he has been seen to get up and run away. A man proceeded to skin one, not doubting that life was extinct, and after proceeding a little way with the operation, he left the hut to sharpen his knife. When he returned, the poor animal was sitting up, with the loose skin hanging over one side of his face." The Dhole of India, similarly hunts in packs, attacking and destroying even the tiger. Their sense of smell is very acute, their bark similar to that of a hound, their colour red or sandy. They have long heads, oblique eyes, long erect ears; and very powerful limbs. The Aguaras of South America, says Mrs. Bowdich, resemble foxes. "They are silent if not dumb, and appear to congregate in families rather than packs. They have a peculiar propensity to steal and secrete without any apparent object in so doing."

The Dog.

The dog divides with the horse the honour of being the most intimate and devoted of the servants of mankind. "His origin," says Mr. Jesse "is lost in antiquity. We find him occupying a place in the earliest pagan worship; his name has been given to one of the first-mentioned stars of the heavens, and his effigy may be seen in some of the most ancient works of art. Pliny was of opinion that there was no domestic animal without its unsubdued counterpart, and dogs are known to exist absolutely wild in various parts of the old and new world." Whether the dog of civilization is a descendant of these wild dogs, or whether the wild dog is the progeny of domestic varieties relapsed into a condition of savagery, and whether both are descended from the wolf and the jackal has often been discussed. Certain it is that many of the species which now obtain are in certain characteristics at least the result of artificial breeding. In its domestic state, the dog is remarkable for its usefulness, obedience, and attachment to its master; and the great variety of breeds that are trained and educated for our benefit or amusement, are almost too numerous to be mentioned. The principal are, the _greyhound_, noted for his speed; the _Newfoundland dog_, remarkable for his size, sagacity, and benevolence; the _shepherd's dog_, perhaps the most useful of all; the _spaniel_, the _barbel_, and the _setter_, useful in hunting; the _pointer_, the staunchest of all dogs; the _Dalmatian_ or _coach-dog_, with a skin beautifully spotted; the _terrier_, useful for destroying vermin; the _blood-hound_, formerly used for tracing criminals; the _harrier_, _beagle_, and _foxhound_, distinguished for their quick sense of smell; and the _bull-dog_, and _mastiff_, which are our watch-dogs.

The Dog's Understanding.

Many marvellous instances are on record of the dog's capacity for understanding not only the direct commands of his master, to which of course he may be easily trained, but also, sometimes, the drift of conversations in which his master may engage.

The Rev. James Simpson of Edinburgh had a fine Newfoundland dog of which some good stories are told. On one occasion, however, Mr. Simpson happening to remark to a friend in the dog's hearing that, as he was about to change his residence, he would have to part with his dog, the dog took the hint, left the house and was never heard of again. Sheep dogs have been known to take very apparent interest in conversations upon the subject of their profession, and to anticipate the word of command by their perception of the drift of the remarks. Mr. St. John, in his "Highland Sports", gives a remarkable illustration of the way in which a shepherd's dog understood the conversation of his master:--"A shepherd once, to prove the quickness of his dog, who was lying before the fire in the house where we were talking, said to me, in the middle of a sentence concerning something else, 'I'm thinking, sir, the cow is in the potatoes.' Though he purposely laid no stress on these words, and said them in a quiet, unconcerned tone of voice, the dog, who appeared to be asleep, immediately jumped up, and leaping through the open window, scrambled up the turf roof of the house, from which he could see the potato field. He then (not seeing the cow there) ran and looked into the byre, where she was, and finding that all was right, came back to the house. After a short time the shepherd said the same words again, and the dog repeated his look-out; but on the false alarm being a third time given, the dog got up, and wagging his tail, looked his master in the face with so comical an expression of interrogation, that we could not help laughing aloud at him, on which, with a slight growl, he laid himself down in his warm corner, with an offended air, as if determined not to be made a fool of again."

The well known story of Sir Walter Scott's dog, supplied by him to Captain Brown, is another illustration. "The wisest dog I ever had," said Sir Walter, "was what is called the bull-dog terrier. I taught him to understand a great many words, insomuch that I am positive that the communication betwixt the canine species and ourselves might be greatly enlarged. Camp once bit the baker, who was bringing bread to the family. I beat him, and explained the enormity of his offence; after which, to the last moment of his life, he never heard the least allusion to the story, in whatever voice or tone it was mentioned, without getting up and retiring into the darkest corner of the room, with great appearance of distress. Then if you said, 'the baker was well paid,' or, 'the baker was not hurt after all,' Camp came forth from his hiding-place, capered, and barked, and rejoiced. When he was unable, towards the end of his life, to attend me when on horseback, he used to watch for my return, and the servant would tell him 'his master was coming down the hill, or through the moor,' and although he did not use any gesture to explain his meaning, Camp was never known to mistake him, but either went out at the front to go up the hill, or at the back to get down to the moor-side. He certainly had a singular knowledge of spoken language."

One of the most remarkable illustrations of the dog's capacity for understanding is probably that given by Mrs. Bowdich, as follows:

"Professor Owen was walking with a friend, by the side of a river, near its mouth, on the coast of Cornwall, and picked up a small piece of sea-weed. It was covered with minute animals; and Mr. Owen observed to his companion, throwing the weed into the water, 'If this small piece affords so many treasures, how microscopically rich the whole plant must be! I should much like to have one.' The gentlemen walked on, but hearing a splashing in the water, turned round, and saw it violently agitated. 'It is Lion!' both exclaimed; 'what can he be about? He was walking quietly enough by our side a minute ago.' At one moment they saw his tail above the water, then his head raised for a breath of air, then the surrounding element shook again, and at last he came ashore, panting from his exertions, and laid a whole plant of the identical weed at Mr. Owen's feet. After this proof of intelligence, it will not be wondered at, that when Lion was joyfully expecting to accompany his master and his guest on an excursion, and was told to go and take care of and comfort Mrs. Owen, who was ill, he should immediately return to the drawing-room and lay himself by her side, which he never left during the absence of his owner, his countenance alone betraying his disappointment, and that only for a few minutes."

The Dog's Sense of Locality.

Dogs have a remarkable sense of locality, and will find their way to a spot they have once visited with an unerring instinct under circumstances which make it impossible for them to rely entirely upon their sense of scent. Some of the stories told of the extraordinary journeys made by dogs, apparently without anything to guide them but their natural instinct, seem almost incredible.

Captain Brown tells a story of a gentleman of Glasgow, who was unfortunately drowned in the river Oder while bathing during a continental tour. A Newfoundland dog, who was his travelling companion, made every effort to save him, but failing to do so, found his way either to Frankfort, or Hamburgh, where he went on board a vessel bound for England, from which he landed somewhere on the coast, finding his way ultimately to the person from whom he had been originally purchased, and who lived near Holyrood palace.

Another dog who, on arriving in England from Newfoundland, was given to a gentleman in London, was sent by him to a friend in Scotland, by water. The dog, however, made his escape and found his way back to his old master at Fish Street Hill, London, though as Mr. Jesse puts it "in so exhausted a state that he could only express his joy at seeing his master and then die."

This instinct seems to be common to many varieties of dogs. Captain Brown tells of a Dalmatian or coach-dog which Lord Maynard lost in France, and which he found at his house on his return to England, though how it had got there he never could trace. It is not necessary, says Captain Brown, that the dog shall have previously travelled the ground by which it returns. A person who went by sea from Aberdeen to Leith, lost his dog at the latter place, and found it on his return at Aberdeen. It must have travelled over a country unknown to it, and have crossed the firths of Forth and Tay.

Illustrations might easily be multiplied. Mr. Jesse tells of a dog which was presented to the Captain of a collier by a gentleman residing at Wivenhoe in Essex and which on being landed at Sunderland found its way back to its old master, and also of a spaniel belonging to Colonel Hardy which after accompanying him from Essex to Bath in a post chaise, found its way back through London, a distance of 140 miles in three days.