ORDER VI.

RODENTIA,

GNAWING ANIMALS.

This order embraces a considerable number of small animals, most of which possess a gentle and harmless character. They live upon vegetable matter, and a large proportion use their fore-paws in the manner of hands.

THE SQUIRREL.

Of this lively, pleasing genus, there is a considerable variety, especially in the temperate zone. They are very agile, and use their paws with much grace and dexterity, in handling their food.

Miscellaneous Anecdotes.—A squirrel, seated in a nut-tree, was once observed to weigh a nut in each paw, to discover by weight which was good; the light ones he invariably dropped, thus making a heap of them at the foot of the tree. On examining this heap, it was found to consist entirely of bad nuts.

A gentleman near Edinburgh took a common squirrel from a nest, which he reared, and rendered extremely docile. It was kept in a box, nailed against the wall, which was wired in front, and had a small aperture at the end, to allow the animal to enter. To the end of the box was suspended a rope, which touched the ground, by which the animal descended from and ascended to its domicile at pleasure. It became extremely playful, and was familiar with every one of the family, but devotedly attached to its master, who generally carried it about with him in his coat-pocket.

The little creature used to watch all its master's movements. Whenever it saw him preparing to go out, it ran up his legs, and entered his pocket, from whence it would peep out at passengers, as he walked along the streets—never venturing, however, to go out. But no sooner did he reach the outskirts of the city, than the squirrel leaped to the ground, ran along the road, ascended the tops of trees and hedges with the quickness of lightning, and nibbled at the leaves and bark; and, if he walked on, it would descend, scamper after him, and again enter his pocket. In this manner, it would amuse itself during a walk of miles, which its master frequently indulged in.

It was taught to catch food, roots, and acorns, with its fore-paws, which it accomplished with great neatness. It was also instructed to leap over a stick, held out to it, and perform various other little tricks.

A lady in England had a squirrel which she taught to crack nuts for her, and hand her the kernels with his paws. She also instructed him to count money; and he was so attentive that, whenever he found a coin on the ground, he took it up and carried it to her. So attached was this little creature to its mistress, that, whenever she was confined to her bed, from indisposition, he lay still in his cage, without moving, although, at other times, he was full of life and vivacity.

Some years ago, as a Swede was constructing a mill dike, late in the autumn, he accidentally came upon an abode of the ground or striped squirrel. He traced it to some distance, and found a gallery on one side, like a branch, diverging from the main stem, nearly two feet long; at its farther end was a quantity of fine white oak acorns; he soon after discovered another gallery, which contained a store of corn; a third was filled with walnuts; while a fourth contained three quarts of fine chestnuts;—all of which the provident little animal had stored up for the winter.

A correspondent of the "Penny Magazine" gives us the following account: "Although apparently not adapted to swimming, yet both gray and black squirrels venture across lakes that are one or two miles wide. In these adventurous exploits, they generally take advantage of a favorable breeze, elevating their tails, which act like sails, thus rendering their passage quicker and less laborious. I have frequently noticed black squirrels crossing Niagara River, and I always remarked that they swam across when the morning first began to dawn. On reaching the opposite shore, they appeared greatly fatigued, and, if unmolested, generally took a long rest preparatory to their setting off for the woods."

The black and gray squirrels of the western country frequently emigrate, in immense numbers, from one district to another. They may be often seen swimming across the Ohio; and it is not uncommon for persons to stand upon the banks, and kill them as they come to the shore, being then in an exhausted state.

THE MOUSE.

Of this genus there are many species, including not only the domestic mouse, but several other kinds, as well as the various kinds of rats. The common mouse was not originally a native of this country, but was introduced from Europe. The same may be said of the common rat. These animals are spread over nearly the whole world, seeming always to be the attendants upon man.

Miscellaneous Anecdotes.—"On a rainy evening," says Dr. Archer, "as I was alone in my chamber in the town of Norfolk, I took up my flute and commenced playing. In a few moments, my attention was directed to a mouse that I saw creeping from a hole, and advancing to a chair in which I was sitting. I ceased playing, and it ran precipitately back to its hole. I began again to play, and was much surprised to see it reappear, and take its old position. It couched upon the floor, shut its eyes, and appeared in ecstasy, being differently affected by the music I played, as it varied from slow and plaintive to lively and animated."

A gentleman who was on board a British man of war, in the year 1817, states that, as he and some officers were seated by the fire, one of them began to play a plaintive air on the violin. He had scarcely performed ten minutes, when a mouse, apparently frantic, made its appearance in the centre of the floor. The strange gestures of the little animal strongly excited the attention of the officers, who, with one consent, resolved to suffer it to continue its singular actions unmolested. Its exertions now appeared to be greater every moment; it shook its head, leaped about the table, and exhibited signs of the most ecstatic delight. After performing actions that an animal so diminutive would at first sight seem incapable of, the little creature suddenly ceased to move, fell down, and expired, without evincing any symptoms of pain.

An officer confined to the Bastille, at Paris, begged to be allowed to play on his lute, to soften his confinement by its harmonies. Shortly afterwards, when playing on the instrument, he was much astonished to see a number of mice come frisking out of their holes, and many spiders descending from their webs, and congregating round him while he continued the music. Whenever he ceased, they dispersed; whenever he played again, they reappeared. He soon had a numerous audience, amounting to about a hundred mice and spiders.

Mr. Olafsen gives an account of the remarkable instinct of the Iceland mouse. In a country where berries are but thinly dispersed, these little animals are obliged to cross rivers to make their distant forages. In their return with the booty to their magazines, they are obliged to repass the stream. "The party, which consists of from six to ten, select a flat piece of dried cow-dung, on which they place the berries on a heap in the middle; then, by their united force, they bring it to the water's edge, and, after launching it, embark and place themselves round the heap, with their heads joined over it and their backs to the water, their tails pendent in the stream, serving the purpose of rudders." Remarkable as this story is, the truth of it is confirmed by many people who have watched the arrangements of the tiny navigators.

THE DORMOUSE.

Mr. Mangili, an Italian naturalist, made some curious experiments upon the dormouse. He kept one in the cupboard in his study. When the thermometer was 8° above the freezing point, the little animal curled himself up among a heap of papers, and went to sleep. It was ascertained that the animal breathed, and suspended his respiration, at regular intervals, sometimes every four minutes. Within ten days from his beginning to sleep, the dormouse awoke, and ate a little. He then went to sleep again, and continued through the winter to sleep some days and then to awaken; but as the weather became colder, the intervals of perfect repose, when no breathing could be perceived, were much longer—sometimes more than twenty minutes.

THE RAT.

Miscellaneous Anecdotes.—There was, in the year 1827, in a farm-house in England, a remarkable instance, not only of docility, but of usefulness, in a rat. It first devoured the mice which were caught in traps, and was afterwards seen to catch others as they ventured from their holes; till, at length, the whole house was cleared of these animals. From the services it rendered, the family kindly protected the rat, and it used to gambol about the house, and play with the children, without the least fear. It sometimes disappeared for a week or ten days at a time, but regularly returned to its abode.

During a dreadful storm in England, in 1829, a singular instance occurred of sagacity in a rat. The River Tyne was much swollen by the water, and numbers of people had assembled to gaze on the masses of hay it swept along in its irresistible course. A swan was at last observed, sometimes struggling for the land, at other times sailing majestically along with the torrent. When it drew near, a black spot was seen on its snowy plumage, and the spectators were greatly pleased to find that this was a live rat. It is probable that it had been borne from its domicile in some hayrick, and, observing the swan, had made for it as an ark of safety, in the hope of prolonging its life. When the swan at length reached the land, the rat leaped from his back, and scampered away, amid the shouts of the spectators.

A surgeon's mate on board a ship, in 1757, relates that, while lying one evening awake in his berth, he saw a rat come into the room, and, after surveying the place attentively, retreat with the utmost caution and silence. It soon returned, leading by the ear another rat, which it left at a small distance from the hole by which they entered. A third rat then joined them. The two then searched about, and picked up all the small scraps of biscuit; these they carried to the second rat, which seemed blind, and remained on the spot where they had left it, nibbling such fare as was brought to it by its kind providers, whom the mate supposed were its offspring.

A steward of a ship infested with rats used to play some lively airs on a flute after he had baited his traps and placed them near the rat-holes. The music attracted the rats, who entered the traps unconscious of that danger which, without that allurement, they would have instinctively avoided. In this manner the steward caught fifteen or twenty rats in three hours.

THE BEAVER.

There is but one species of this animal, which is found in the temperate regions of both continents. It spends a great part of its time in the water, where it constructs dams and builds huts of the branches of trees. It gnaws these asunder with wonderful dexterity, frequently cutting off a branch, the size of a walking-stick, with one effort. They live in families composed of from two to ten.

A tame Beaver.—Major Roderfort, of New York, had a tame beaver, which he kept in his house upwards of half a year, and allowed to run about like a dog. The cat belonging to the house had kittens, and she took possession of the beaver's bed, which he did not attempt to prevent. When the cat went out, the beaver would take one of the kittens between his paws, and hold it close to his breast to warm it, and treated it with much affection. Whenever the cat returned, he restored her the kitten.

Affection of the Beaver.—Two young beavers were taken alive some years ago, and carried to a factory near Hudson's Bay, where they grew very fast. One of them being accidentally killed, the survivor began to moan, abstained from food, and finally died in grief for the loss of its companion.

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

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

THE PORCUPINE.

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

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

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

THE HARE.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ORDER VII.

EDENTATA,

ANIMALS WITHOUT FRONT TEETH.

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

THE SLOTH.

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

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

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

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

THE PLATYPUS.

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

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

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

ORDER VIII.

PACHYDERMATA,

THICK-SKINNED ANIMALS.

THE ELEPHANT.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE HIPPOPOTAMUS.

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

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

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

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

THE RHINOCEROS.

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

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

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

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

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

THE WILD BOAR.

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

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

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

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

THE DOMESTIC HOG.

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE TAPIR.

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

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

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

THE HORSE.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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