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BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH 

OF 

CHARLES   WILLSON   PEALE. 


The  records  of  Natural  History  and  of  the  Fine  Arts  in 
this  country  would  be  incomplete,  without  some  notice  of  a 
man  who  was  among  the  earliest  to  cultivate  a  taste  for 
Painting,  and  the  first  to  establish  a  Museum  of  Natural  His- 
tory, even  when  the  name  of  Museum  was  scarcely  recog- 
nized from  the  European  dictionaries.  It  would  require 
more  time  than  we  can  now  bestow,  to  perform  this  duty 
with  the  minuteness  which  might  be  desired.  We  will, 
therefore,  content  ourselves  with  a  slight  sketch  of  his  va- 
ried career. 

His  father,  Charles  Peale,  is  still  remembered  by  some 
of  the  oldest  inhabitants  of  Maryland  as  a  gentleman  of  libe- 
ral education  and  pglite  manners;  greatly  respected  as  a 
teacher  at  Chestertown,  where  he  occasionally  oiKciated  in 
the  pulpit,  when  the  clergyman  of  the  parish  happened  to 
be  absent.  He  was  a  native  of  Rutlandshire  in  England; 
proud  of  the  freedom  which  Britons  enjoyed,  but  still 
prouder  of  the  advantages  which  he  foresaw  were  to  be  de- 
veloped here.  He  died  in  the  year  1750,  leaving  a  widow 
and  five  children,  of  whom  the  eldest  was  Charles  Willson, 
the  subject  of  the  present  memoir;  Margaret  Jane,  who 
first  married  a  Britisli  officer,  afterwards  Colonel  Nathaniel 
Ramsay;  St.  George,  who  was  distinguished  as  the  head  of 
the  Land  Office;  Elizabeth  Digby,  who  married  Captain 
Polk;  and  James,  who  has  been  long  distinguished  as  a 
painter  of  miniatures  and  still  life. 

Charles  Willson  Peale  was  born  at  Chestertown,  on  the 
eastern  shore  of  Maryland,  April  16th,  1741.  At  an  early 
age  he  was  bound  apprentice  to  a  saddler  in  Annapolis; 
and  the  habits  of  industry  which  he  acquired  under  the  ob- 
ligations of  that  servitude,  gave  a  character  to  the  labours 
of  his  whole  life,  to  which  was  added  a  perseverance  from 
his  own  peculiar  temperament,  which  seemed  to  delight  in 
conquering  difficulties. 

He  was  married  before  he  was  twenty-one  years  of  age, 
and  for  several  years  carried  on  the  business  of  his  appren- 
ticeship; to  which  he  successively  added  coach,  clock  and 
watch  making,  and  something  of  the  silversmith  business. 
1 


But  this  variety  of  occupation,  though  it  amused  the  eager 
and  volatile  fancy  of  a  youth  of  very  sanguine  temperament, 
instead  of  advancing  his  interest,  only  accumulated  around 
him  embarrassments  which  distressed  him  for  a  long  time. 

Hitherto  he  had  thought  but  little  of  drawing;  yet  he 
had  copied  some  prints  with  a  pen  and  ink,  had  coloured 
prints  on  glass,  and  even  painted  an  Adam  and  Eve  from 
the  inspiration  of  Milton.  It  was  on  a  visit  to  Norfolk, 
where  he  went  to  purchase  leather,  that  seeing  a  portrait 
and  some  landscapes  painted  by  a  Mr.  Frazier, — instead  of 
being  stimulated  by  a  display  of  excellence  to  aspire  to  excel- 
cnce  in  art — it  was  the  badness  of  the  performances  which  en- 
couraged him  in  the  idea  of  surpassing  them.  He  therefore  se- 
cretly procured  some  pigments  and  canvass  from  a  coach  ma- 
ker, and  soon  surprised  his  friends  by  a  landscape  and  por- 
trait of  himself,  in  which  he  was  represented  holding  a  palette 
and  brushes  in  his  hand,  with  a  clock  in  the  background.  He 
never  could  remember  to  whom  he  had  given  this  portrait, 
or  where  it  had  been  mislaid,  till  forty  years  afterwards,  it 
was  discovered  tied  up  as  a  bag,  and  containing  a  pound  or 
two  of  whiting;  having  travelled,  unopened,  during  the 
revolutionar}'  struggles,  from  place  to  place.  This  picture 
immediately  drew  him  into  notice,  and  procured  him  em- 
ployment, still  further  to  the  disadvantage  of  his  original 
business. 

His  mind  was  now  wholly  bent  on  painting,  and  it  was 
necessary  to  procure  the  proper  materials  for  it.  He  had 
never  seen  an  easel  or  palette,  and  knew  only  the  most 
common  colours  which  the  coach  painters  then  used.  For 
this  purpose  he  travelled  to  Philadelphia,  which  was  then 
a  journey  of  some  fatigue  and  peril;  and  in  the  well  fur- 
nished shop  of  Christopher  Marshall,  was  bewildered  by 
the  variety  of  colours,  the  names  of  which  he  had  never  be- 
fore heard.  Some  book  on  painting  might  relieve  him  from 
this  embarassment,  and  Rivington's  bookstore  furnished  him 
with  the  "Handmaid  to  the  Arts."  This,  in  the  solitude 
of  his  lodgings,  he  studied  day  and  night  for  nearly  a  week, 
before  he  could  venture  upon  the  selection  and  purchase  of 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  OF 


his  paints,  with  which  he  hastened  back  to  Annapolis,  eager 
to  commence. 

Previous  to  this,  there  had  been  only  three  persons  in 
Maryland,  professing  the  art  of  portrait  painting:  Cain, 
Hesselius,  and  Woolaston.  They  were  artists  from  the  pa- 
rent country,  who  had  made  profitable  circuits  through  the 
colonies,  furnishing  to  the  most  wealthy  families  laudable 
portraits  and  groups  in  the  style  of  the  courtly  Kneller. 
Mr.  Hesselius.  however,  had  married  an  American  lady, 
and  was  living  near  Annapolis.  To  him  our  young  artist 
looked  for  the  benefit  of  instruction;  and  taking  with  him 
as  a  present  one  of  his  finest  saddles,  requested  to  see  him 
paint  a  picture.  Thus  instructed,  he  succeeded  in  painting 
the  portraits  of  several  of  his  friends,  much  to  their  gratifi- 
cation and  pleasure  to  himself,  but  little  to  the  advantage  of 
his  neglected  saddlery. 

Tempted  by  an  offer  of  his  brother  in  law,  Captain  Polk, 
he  accompanied  him  in  his  schooner  to  Boston,  where  he 
became  acquainted  with  IMr.  Copley,  who  received  him 
kindly  and  lent  him  a  picture  to  copy.  The  sight  of  Mr. 
Copley's  picture  room  afforded  him  great  enjoyment  and 
instruction.  He  returned  with  increased  knowledge,  and 
was  patronized  by  Mr.  Arbunkle,  whose  family  he  had 
painted;  besides  several  neighbours  in  Virginia.  On  his 
return  to  Annapolis  it  was  decided  by  his  friends  that  he 
must  go  to  England,  and  several  gentlemen  very  liberally 
subscribed  to  raise  a  fund  for  that  purpose,  to  be  repaid  by 
paintings  on  his  return,  which  enabled  him  to  undertake 
the  voyage  to  London,  furnished  with  letters  of  recommen- 
dation to  Mr.  West,  Mr.  Jennings,  and  others. 

Mr.  West  received  him  with  the  greatest  kindness,  and 
freely  gave  him  instructions  in  drawing  and  painting. 
From  an  Italian  he  learned  to  model  in  wax;  Mr.  Flaxman 
senior,  instructed  him  in  the  art  of  moulding  and  casting 
plaister  figures.  But  when  he  had  been  more  than  a  year 
in  London,  and  his  diminished  funds  reminded  him  of  re- 
turning to  America,  Mr.  West  earnestly  persuaded  him  to 
remain  another  year,  kindly  offering  him  a  residence  in  his 
own  house.  Additional  remittances  from  America,  and 
some  portraits  which  he  painted  in  London,  through  the 
recommendations  of  Mr.  Jennings,  enabled  him  to  prolong 
his  stay;  during  which  he  made  great  improvement  in  oil 
painting,  learned  to  paint  in  miniature,  and  executed  some 
mezzotinto  engravings.  At  this  time  Stuart  and  Trumbull 
were  likewise  students  with  Mr.  West. 

On  his  return  to  America,  he  found  constant  employment 
at  portrait  painting,  both  in  Annapolis  and  Baltimore. 
Here  he  invited  his  brothers  St.  George  and  James  to  join 
his  family,  and  instructed  them,  as  well  as  his  sisters,  in 
drawing  and  painting.  To  commemorate  this  happy  groupe, 
he  painted  the  large  family  piece  which  is  in  the  Philadel- 


phia Museum,  to  which,  in  his  old  age,  he  added  a  faithful 
mastiff.  In  several  visits  which  he  had  paid  to  Philadel- 
phia, having  found  employment,  he  determined  to  settle 
there,  which  he  did  in  the  year  1776;  but  the  increasing 
troubles,  produced  by  the  contest  with  the  parent  country, 
excited  his  patriotism  to  join  in  popular  meetings,  where 
he  was  distinguished  for  his  ardour.  He  raised  a  company 
of  volunteers,  which  elected  him  their  captain.  With  them 
he  sought  the  army  of  General  Washington,  and  was  en- 
gaged in  the  battles  of  Trenton  and  Germantown;  his  fami- 
ly having  retired  from  Philadelphia  into  the  country,  en- 
during many  privations. 

In  camp  he  painted  the  portraits  of  several  distinguished 
officers,  which  was  the  commencement  of  his  invaluable 
Gallery  of  American  characters;  and  it  was  at  the  moment 
he  was  painting  a  miniature  of  General  Washington  at  a 
small  farm-house  in  New  Jersey,  a  letter  was  received  an- 
nouncing the  surrender  of  Cornwallis.  Mr.  Peale  had  his 
table  and  chair  near  the  window,  and  Washington  was  sit- 
ting on  the  side  of  a  bed;  the  room  being  too  small  for 
another  chair.  His  aid-de-camp.  Colonel  Tilghman,  was 
present.  It  was  an  interesting  moment;  but  the  sitting 
was  continued,  as  the  miniature  was  intended  for  Mrs. 
Washington. 

Notwithstanding  his  fondness  for  the  peaceful  employ- 
ment of  the  pencil,  he  was  influenced  by  the  spirit  of  the 
times  to  join  in  public  meetings,  where,  being  often  chair- 
man, he  was  drawn  into  notice,  and  appointed  to  offices  of 
great  responsibility.  In  1779  he  represented  Philadel- 
phia in  the  Legislative  Assembly,  and  zealously  co-ope- 
rated in  passing  the  law  for  the  abolition  of  slavery.  But 
he  ever  afterwards  forbore  meddling  with  politics,  and 
scrupulously  confined  his  attention  to  painting,  mechanical 
inventions  and  occupations.  At  this  time  he  was  much  em- 
ployed, being,  for  about  fifteen  years,  the  only  portrait  pain- 
ter in  the  western  world. 

In  the  year  1735,  the  idea  of  making  a  Museum  of  Natu- 
ral History  first  occurred  to  him.  It  was  suggested  by  some 
bones  of  the  Mammoth  which  were  brought  to  him  to  make 
drawings  from  them,  and  were  placed  in  his  picture  gallery, 
which  contained  a  valuable  and  increasing  collection  of 
portraits  of  characters  distinguished  in  the  revolutionary 
struggles.  This  new  pursuit  soon  engrossed  all  his  thoughts, 
and  furnished  a  never-ending  occupation  for  all  his  indus- 
try, ingenuit}',  and  perseverance.  Unacquainted  with  the 
European  modes  of  proceeding,  he  had  every  thing  to  dis- 
cover; and  years  elapsed  before  he  could  succeed  in  pre- 
serving his  specimens  of  animals  from  the  depredations  of 
insects.  The  writer  of  this  article  has  seen  hundreds  of 
birds  and  beasts,  when  better  specimens  were  prepared, 
burnt  in  piles — a  sacrifice  on  the  altar  of  experience.    Many 


CHARLES  WILLSON  PEALE. 


citizens  and  strangers  contributed  to  enlarge  his  collection, 
and,  in  a  few  years,  his  picture  gallery,  at  the  corner  of 
Lombard  and  Third  streets,  after  several  enlargements,  was 
found  to  be  too  small  for  his  JNIuseum.  It  was  then  remov- 
ed to  the  Philosophical  Hall,  and  there  was  greatly  aug- 
mented, especially  with  the  skeleton  of  the  Mammoth,* 
which  was  discovered  in  Ulster  county,  N.  York  State,  and 
disinterred  at  great  expense  and  labour.  Thus,  a  few 
bones  of  the  Mammoth  accidentally  suggested  the  idea  of  a 
Museum,  which,  subsequently  furnished  its  founder  with 
the  means  of  procuring  and  displaying  to  the  world  the 
first  skeleton  of  that  antedeluvian  wonder,  since  classified 


under  the  name  of  Mastadon;  which,  in  its  turn  contributed 
to  give  character  and  value  to  a  Museum  that  now  ranks  on 
an  equality  with  the  most  celebrated  of  Europe,  founded 
and  supported  as  they  are,  by  the  wealth  of  powerful  gov- 
ernments. 

Hitherto  no  person  in  America  had  presented  the  sub- 
ject of  Natural  History  in  the  attractive  shape  of  lectures. 
With  the  view  of  combining  the  result  of  his  own  observa- 
tions and  discoveries,  with  the  facts  and  observations  that 
were  to  be  found  scattered  in  various  European  works,  Mr. 
Peale  delivered  at  the  Museum  a  course  of  lectures  at  once 
popular  and  scientific,  which  were  attended  by  the  most 


*  In  the  spring;  of  1801,  receiving  information  from  a  scientific  correspon- 
dent in  the  State  of  New  York,  that  in  the  autmnn  of  1799  many  bones  of 
the  Mammoth  had  been  found  in  digging  a  marle-pit  in  tlie  vicinity  of  Nevr- 
burgh,  which  is  situated  on  the  river  Hudson,  sixty-seven  miles  from  the 
city  of  New  York,  my  father,  Charles  Willson  Peale,  immediately  proceed- 
ed to  the  spot,  and  through  the  politeness  of  Dr.  Graham,  whose  residence  on 
the  banks  of  the  Wall-kill  enabled  him  to  be  present  when  most  of  the  bones 
were  dug  up,  received  every  information  with  respect  to  what  had  been 
done,  and  the  most  probable  means  of  fiiture  success.  The  bones  that  had 
been  found  were  then  in  tlie  possession  of  the  farmer  who  discovered  them, 
heaped  on  tlie  floor  of  his  garret  or  granary,  where  they  were  occasionally 
visited  by  the  curious.  These  my  father  w-as  fortunate  to  make  a  pur- 
chase of,  together  with  the  right  of  digging  for  the  remainder,  and,  imme- 
diately packing  them  up,  sent  them  on  to  Philadelphia.  They  consisted  of 
all  the  neck,  most  of  the  vertebras  of  the  back,  and  some  of  the  tail;  most  of 
the  ribs,  in  greater  part  broken ;  both  scapulte ;  both  humeri,  with  tlie  radii 
and  ulnae;  one  femur;  a  tibia  of  one  leg,  and  a  fibula  of  the  other;  some 
large  fragments  of  the  head ;  many  of  the  fore  and  hind  feet  bones ;  the  pel- 
vis, somewhat  broken ;  and  a  large  fragment,  five  feet  long,  of  one  tusk, 
about  mid-way.  He  therefore  was  jin  want  of  some  of  tlie  back  and  tail 
bones,  some  of  the  ribs,  the  under  jaw,  one  whole  tusk  and  part  of  the  other, 
the  breast  bone,  one  thigh,  and  a  tibia  and  fibula,  and  many  of  the  feet 
bones.  But  as  the  farmer's  fields  were  then  in  grain,  the  enterprise  of  fur- 
ther investigation  was  postponed  for  a  short  time. 

The  whole  of  this  part  of  the  country  abounding  with  morasses,  soUd 
enough  for  cattle  to  walk  over,  containing  peat,  or  turf,  and  sheU-marle,  it  is 
the  custom  of  the  farmers  to  assist  each  other,  in  order  to  acquire  a  quantity 
of  the  marie  for  manure.  Pits  are  dug  generally  twelve  feet  long  and  five 
feet  wide  at  the  top,  lessening  to  three  feet  at  the  bottom.  The  peat  or  turf 
is  tlirown  on  lands  not  immediately  in  use ;  and  the  marie,  after  mellowing 
through  the  winter,  is  in  the  spring  scattered  over  the  cultivated  fields — the 
most  luxuriant  crops  are  the  consequence.  It  was  in  digging  one  of  these, 
on  the  farm  of  John  JIasten,  that  one  of  the  men,  thrusting  his  spade  deeper 
than  usual,  struck  what  he  supposed  to  be  a  log  of  wood,  but  on  cutting  it  to 
ascertain  the  kind,  to  his  astonishment,  he  found  it  was  a  bone :  it  was  quick- 
ly cleared  from  the  surrounding  earth,  and  proved  to  be  that  of  the  thigh, 
three  feet  nine  inches  in  length,  and  eighteen  inches  in  circumference,  in  the 
smallest  part.  The  search  was  continued,  and  the  same  evening  several 
other  bones  were  discovered.  The  fame  of  it  soon  spread  through  the  neigh- 
bourhood, and  excited  a  genera]  interest  in  the  pursuit :  all  were  eager,  at 
the  expense  of  some  exertions,  to  gratify  their  curiosity  in  seeing  the  ruins 
of  an  animal  so  gigantic,  of  whose  bones  very  few  among  them  had  ever 
heard,  and  over  which  they  had  so  often  imconsciousl}'  trod.  For  the  two 
succeeding  days  upwards  of  an  hundred  men  were  actively  engaged,  en- 
couraged by  several  gentlemen,  chiefly  physicians  of  the  neighbourhood, 
and  success  the  most  sanguine  attended  their  labours  :  but,  unfortunately, 
the  habits  of  the  men  requiring  the  use  of  spirits,  it  was  afforded  them  in  too 


great  profusion,  and  tliey  quickly  became  so  impatient  and  unruly,  that  they 
had  nearly  destroyed  the  skeleton ;  and,  in  one  or  two  instances,  using  oxen 
and  chains  to  drag  them  from  the  clay  and  marie,  the  head,  hips,  and  tusks 
were  much  broken ;  some  parts  being  drawn  out,  and  others  left  behind.  So 
great  a  quantity  of  water,  from  copious  springs,  bursting  from  the  bottom,  rose 
upon  the  men,  that  it  required  several  score  of  hands  to  lade  it  out,  witli  all  the 
milk-pails,  buckets,  and  bowls,  they  could  collect  in  the  neighbourhood.  All 
their  ingenuity  was  exerted  to  conquer  difiieulties  that  every  hour  increased 
upon  their  hands;  they  even  made  and  sunk  a  large  cofier-dam,  and  within 
it  found  many  valuable  small  bones.  The  fourth  day  so  much  water  had 
risen  in  the  pit,  that  they  had  not  courage  to  attack  it  again.  In  this  state 
we  found  it  m  1801. 

It  was  a  curious  circumstance  attending  the  purchase  of  these  bones, 
that  the  sum  which  was  paid  for  them  was  little  more  tlian  one-third  of  what 
had  been  offered  to  the  farmer  for  them  by  anotlier,  and  refused,  not  long  be- 
fore. This  anecdote  may  not  be  uninteresting  to  the  moralist,  and  I  shall 
explain  it.  The  farmer  of  German  extraction — and  like  many  otliers  in 
America,  speaking  the  language  of  his  fiitliers  better  than  that  of  his  coun- 
try— was  born  on  his  farm  ;  he  was  brought  up  to  it  as  a  business,  and  it 
continued  to  be  his  pleasure  in  old  age ;  not  because  it  was  likely  to  free  hmi 
from  labour,  but  because  profit,  and  the  prospect  of  profit,  cheered  him  in  it, 
imtil  the  end  was  forgotten  in  tlie  means.  Intent  upon  manuring  his  lands 
to  increase  its  production,  (always  laudable),  he  felt  no  interest  in  the  fossil- 
shells  contained  in  his  morass ;  and  had  it  not  been  for  the  men  wlio  dug 
with  him,  and  those  whose  casual  attention  was  arrested;  or  who  were  drawn 
by  report  to  the  spot,  for  him  tlie  bones  might  have  rotted  in  the  hole  in  which 
he  discovered  them ;  this  he  confessed  to  me  would  have  been  his  conduct, 
certain  that  after  the  surprise  of  the  moment  they  were  good  for  nothing  but 
to  rot  as  manure.  But  the  learned  physician,  the  reverend  divine,  to  whom 
he  had  been  accustomed  to  look  upwards,  gave  importance  to  tlie  objects 
which  excited  tlie  vulgar  stare  of  his  more  inquisitive  neighbours :  he  there- 
fore joined  his  exertions  to  theirs,  to  recover  as  many  of  the  bones  as  possible. 
With  him,  hope  was  every  thing ;  with  the  men  curiosity  did  much,  but  rum 
did  more,  and  some  little  was  owing  to  certain  prospects  which  they  had  of 
sharing  in  the  future  possible  profit.  It  is  possible  he  might  have  encouraged 
tills  idea;  his  fear  of  it,  however,  seems  to  have  given  him  some  uneasiness; 
for  when  he  was  offered  a  small  sum  for  the  bones,  it  appeared  too  little  to  di- 
vide ;  and  when  a  larger  sum,  he  fain  would  have  engrossed  the  whole  of  it, 
or  persuade  himself  that  the  real  value  might  be  something  greater.  Igno- 
rant of  what  had  been  offered  him,  my  father's  application  was  in  a  critical 
moment,  and  the  farmer  accepted  his  price,  on  condition  that  he  should  re- 
ceive a  new  gun  for  his  son,  and  new  gowns  for  his  wife  and  daughters,  with 
some  other  articles  of  the  same  class.  The  farmer  was  glad  they  were  out 
of  his  granary,  and  tliat  they  were  in  a  few  days  to  be  two  hundred  miles  dis- 
tant ;  and  my  father  was  no  less  pleased  with  the  consciousness,  and  on 
which  every  one  complimented  him,  that  they  were  in  the  hands  of  one  who 
would  spare  no  exertions  to  make  the  best  use  of  them.    The  neighbours. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  OF 


distinguished  citizens,  of  both  sexes,  who  enjoyed  the  op- 
portunity of  seeing  the  objects  which  they  heard  explained. 
But  it  was  not  sufficient  that  he  had  written  these  lec- 
tures; they  must  be  delivered  by  himself;  a  task,  the  difli- 


culty  of  which  was  increased  by  the  recent  loss  of  some  of 
his  front  teeth.  His  ingenuity  was  soon  at  work  to  supply 
this  deficiency,  and  with  remarkable  perseverance  he  suc- 
ceeded, first  in  ivory,  and  finally  in  making  complete  sets 


who  had  assisted  the  fanner  in  this  discovery,  envious  of  his  good  fortune, 
sued  him  for  a  sliare  in  the  profit ;  but  they  gained  nothing  more  tlian  a  divi- 
dend ofthccosU;  it  appearing  that  they  had  been  satisfied  with  the  gratifi- 
cation of  their  curiosity,  and  the  quality  and  quantity  of  tlie  rum ;  no  one 
could  prove  that  he  had  given  them  reason  to  hope  for  a  share  in  the  price  of 
any  thing  his  land  might  happen  to  produce. 

Not  willing  to  lose  the  advantage  of  an  uncommonly  dry  season,  when  the 
springs  in  tlie  morass  were  low,  we  proceeded  on  the  arduous  enterprise. 
In  New  York  every  article  was  provided  which  might  be  necessary  in  sur- 
mounting expected  difficulties ;  such  as  a  pump,  ropes,  pullies,  augers,  &c.; 
boards  and  plank  were  provided  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  timber  was  in  suf- 
ficient plenty  on  the  spot. 

Confident  that  nothing  could  be  done  without  having  a  perfect  command 
of  the  water,  tlie  first  idea  was  to  drain  it  by  a  ditch;  but  the  necessary  dis- 
tance of  perhaps  half  a  mile,  presented  a  length  of  labour  that  appeared 
immense.  It  was  therefore  resolved  to  throw  tlie  water  into  a  natural  basin, 
about  sLxty  feet  distant,  the  upper  edge  of  wliicli  was  about  ten  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  water.  An  ingenious  miUwright  constructed  the  machinery, 
and,  after  a  week  of  close  labour,  completed  a  large  scaffolding  and  awheel 
twenty  feet  diameter,  wide  enough  for  three  or  four  men  to  walk  a-breast  in : 
a  rope  round  tliis  turned  a  small  spindle,  which  worked  a  chain  of  buckets 
regidated  by  a  floating  cylinder  ;  the  water  thus  raised,  was  emptied  into  a 
trough,  which  conveyed  it  to  the  basin ;  a  ship's  pump  assisted,  and,  to- 
wards the  latter  part  of  the  operation,  a  pair  of  half  barrels,  in  removing  the 
mud.  This  machine  worked  so  powerfullj-,  that  in  the  second  day  the  water 
was  lowered  so  much  as  to  enable  them  to  dig ;  and  in  a  few  hours  tliey  were 
rewarded  with  several  small  bones. 

The  road  which  passed  through  tliis  farm  was  a  highway,  and  the  atten- 
tion of  every  traveller  was  arrested  by  the  coaches,  wagons,  chaises,  and 
horses,  which  animated  the  road,  or  were  collected  at  the  entrance  of  the 
field  :  rich  and  poor,  men,  women,  and  children,  all  flocked  to  see  the  opera- 
tion ;  and  a  swamp  always  noted  as  the  solitary  abode  of  snakes  and  frogs, 
became  the  active  scene  of  curiosity  and  bustle  :  most  of  the  spectators  were 
astonished  at  the  purpose  which  could  prompt  such  vigorous  and  expensive 
exertions,  in  a  manner  so  unprecedented,  and  so  foreign  to  the  pursuits  for 
which  they  were  noted.  But  the  amusement  was  not  wholly  on  their  side; 
and  the  variety  of  company  not  only  amused  us,  but  tended  to  encourage  the 
workmen,  each  of  whom,  before  so  many  spectators,  was  ambitious  of  signal- 
izing himself  by  the  number  of  his  discoveries. 

For  several  weeks  no  e-xertions  were  spared,  and  tlie  most  unremitting  were 
required  to  insure  success ;  bank  afle  rbank  fell  in ;  the  increase  of  water  was 
a  constant  impediment,  the  extreme  coldness  of  which  benumbed  the  work- 
men. Each  day  required  some  new  expedient,  and  the  carpenter  was  al- 
ways making  additions  to  the  machinery ;  every  day  bones  and  pieces  of 
bones  were  found  between  six  and  seven  feet  deep,  but  none  of  the  most  im- 
portant ones.  But  the  greatest  obstacle  to  the  search  was  occasioned  by  the 
shell  marie  which  formed  tlie  lower  stratum;  this  rendered  thin  by  the  springs 
at  the  bottom,  was,  by  the  weight  of  the  whole  morass,  always  pressed  up- 
wards on  the  workmen  to  a  certain  height,  which,  without  an  incalculable 
expense,  it  w^.s  impossible  to  prevent.  Twenty-five  hands  at  high  wages 
were  almost  constantly  employed  at  work  which  was  so  uncomfortable  and 
severe,  that  nothing  but  their  anxiety  to  see  the  head,  and  particularly  the 
under  jaw,  could  have  kept  up  their  resolution.  The  patience  of  employer 
and  workmen  was  at  length  exhausted,  and  the  work  relinquished  without 
obtaining  those  interesting  parts,  the  want  of  which  rendered  it  impossible 
to  form  a  complete  skeleton. 

It  would  not  have  been  a  very  difficult  matter  to  put  tlicse  bones  together, 


and  they  would  have  presented  the  general  appearance  of  the  skeleton;  but 
the  under  jaw  was  broken  to  pieces  in  the  first  attempt  to  get  out  the  bones, 
and  nothing  but  the  teeth  and  a  few  fragments  of  it  were  now  found ;  the 
tail  was  mostly  wanting,  and  some  toe-bones.  It  was,  therefore,  a  desirable 
object  to  obtain  some  knowledge  of  these  deficient  parts,  but  if  possible  to 
find  some  other  skeleton  in  such  order  as  to  see  the  position,  and  correctly  to 
ascertain  the  number  of  the  bones.  In  the  course  of  eighteen  years  there 
had  been  found  within  twelve  miles  of  this  spot,  a  bone  or  two  in  several  dif^ 
ferent  places;  concerning  these  we  have  made  particular  inquiries,  but 
found  that  most  of  the  morasses  had  been  since  drained,  and  consequently 
either  the  bones  had  been  exposed  to  a  certain  decay  ;  or  else  so  deep,  that  a 
fortune  might  have  been  spent  in  the  fruitless  pursuit.  But  through  the  po- 
lite attention  of  Dr.  Galatan,  we  were  induced  to  examine  a  small  morass, 
eleven  miles  distant  from  the  former,  belonging  to  Capt.  J.  Barber,  where, 
eight  years  before,  four  ribs  had  been  found  in  digging  a  pit.  From  the 
description  which  was  given  of  their  position,  and  the  appearance  of  the  mo- 
rass, we  began  our  operations  with  all  the  vigour  a  certainty  of  success  could 
inspire.  Nearly  a  week  was  consumed  in  maldng  a  ditch,  by  which  all  the 
water  was  carried  oft',  except  what  a  hand-pump  could  occasionally  empty : 
the  digging,  therefore,  was  less  difficult  than  that  at  Masten's,  though  still  te- 
dious and  unpleasant ;  particularly  as  the  sun,  unclouded  as  it  had  been  for 
seven  weeks,  poured  its  scorching  rays  on  the  morass,  so  circumscribed  by 
trees,  that  the  western  breeze  afibrded  no  refreshment ;  yet  nothing  could  ex- 
ceed the  ardour  of  the  men,  particularly  of  one,  a  gigantic  and  athletic  ne- 
gro, who  exulted  in  choosing  tlie  most  laborious  tasks,  although  be  seemed 
melting  with  heat.  Almost  an  entire  set  of  ribs  were  found,  lying  nearly  to- 
gether, and  very  entire;  but  as  none  of  the  back  bones  were  found  near  them 
(a  sufficient  proof  of  their  having  been  scattered)  our  latitude  for  search  was 
extended  to  very  uncertam  limits ;  therefore,  after  working  abont  two  weeks, 
and  finding  nothing  belonging  to  the  head  but  two  rotten  tusks,  (part  of  one 
of  tliem  is  with  the  skeleton  here)  three  or  four  small  grinders,  a  few  verte- 
br<E  of  the  back  and  tail,  a  broken  scapula,  some  toe-bones,  and  the  ribs, 
found  between  four  and  seven  feet  deep — a  reluctant  terminating  pause  en- 
sued. 

These  bones  were  kept  disti-'ctfrora  those  found  at  Masten's,  as  it  would 
not  be  proper  to  incorporate  inio  one  skeleton  any  other  than  the  bones  be- 
longing to  it ;  and  nothing  more  was  intended  than  collate  the  corresponding 
parts.  These  bones  were  chiefly  valuable  as  specimens  of  the  individual 
parts ;  but  no  bones  were  found  among  tliem  which  were  deficient  in  the  for- 
mer collection,  and  therefore  our  chief  object  was  defeated.  To  have  failed 
in  so  small  a  morass  was  rather  discouraging  to  the  idea  of  making  anotlier 
attempt;  and  yet  the  smallness  of  the  morass  was,  perhaps,  the  cause  of  our 
failure,  as  it  was  extremely  probable  the  bones  we  could  not  find  were  long 
since  decayed,  from  being  situated  on  the  rising  slope  at  no  considerable 
depth,  unprotected  by  the  shell-marle,  which  lay  only  in  the  lower  part  of  tlie 
basin  forming  the  morass.  When  every  exertion  was  given  over,  we  could 
not  but  look  at  the  surrounding  unexplored  parts  with  some  concern,  uncer- 
tain how  near  we  might  have  been  to  the  discovery  of  all  that  we  wanted, 
and  regretting  the  probability  that,  in  consequence  of  the  drain  we  had  made, 
a  few  years  would  wholly  destroy  the  venerable  objects  of  our  rcsearcii. 

Almost  in  despair  at  our  failure  in  the  last  place,  where  so  much  was  ex- 
pected, it  was  with  very  little  spirit  we  mounted  our  horses,  on  another  in- 
quiry. Grossing  the  Wall-kill  at  the  falls,  we  ascended  over  a  double  swelling 
hill  into  a  rudely  cultivated  country,  about  twenty  miles  west  from  the  Hud- 
son, where,  in  a  thinly  settled  neighbourhood,  lived  the  honest  farmer  Peter 
Millspaw,  who,  three  years  before,  had  discovered  several  bones :  from  his 
log-hut  he  accompanied  ua  to  the  morass.    It  was  impossible  to  resist  th« 


CHARLES  WILLSON  PEALE. 


of  porcelain  teeth,  not  only  for  himself,  but  for  his  friends 
and  others,  at  a  time  when  no  other  person  in  the  United 
States  had  succeeded  in  the  attempt. 

About  the  period  when  the  Museum  was  commenced, 
Loutherbourg  in  London  had  got  up  an  exhibition  of  trans- 
parent paintings  with  moveable  effects.  A  description  of 
these  excited  an  irresistible  desire  to  effect  the  same  pur- 
poses. Here  was  a  vast  field  opened  for  his  taste  and  in- 
vention; for  his  labour  day  and  night,  and  his  morning 
dreams.  At  length,  the  public  in  crowds  witnessed,  at  the 
end  of  his  long  gallery  of  portraits,  these  magic  pictures. 
A  perspective  view  of  Market  street,  gradually  darkening 
into  the  gloom  of  night.  The  street  lamps  are  successively 
lighted  and  sparkle  in  the  diminishing  perspective;  the 
clouds  disperse  and  the  pale  moon  rises.  Another  picture 
represented  a  prospect  in  the  country,  dimly  seen  at  night; 


— the  cock  crows,  the  horizon  brightens  gradually  into  the 
glow  of  sunrise,  gay  with  the  chirping  of  birds  which  fly 
from  tree  to  tree; — presently  the  clouds  arise,  thick  and 
dark,  till  brightened  on  their  varying  edges  by  the  light- 
ning's flash,  accompanied  by  the  roll  of  thunder; — the  rain 
begins  to  fall,  increasing  to  a  heavy  shower;  but  it  clears 
away  and  exhibits  a  splendid  rainbow  which  commences 
and  dies  away  gradually.  Other  pieces  admirably  repre- 
sented the  battle  between  the  Bon  Homme  Richard,  com- 
manded by  Paul  Jones  and  the  British  frigate  Serapis;  and 
the  gorgeous  display  of  the  temple  of  Pandemonium. 

Many  years  before  this,  an  attempt  was  made  to  found  an 
Academy  of  tiie  Fine  Arts  by  the  few  artists  who  found  oc- 
cupation in  Philadelphia,  chiefly  engravers,  with  Mr.  Rush 
the  carver,  and  some  foreign  artists  then  sojourning  witli 
us.     Landscape  and  miniature  painters,  and  with  them  the 


solemnity  of  the  approach  to  this  venerable  spot,  which  was  surrounded  by 
a  fence  of  safety  to  the  cattle  without.  Here  we  fastened  our  horses,  and 
followed  our  guide  into  the  centre  of  the  morass,  or  rather  marshy  forest, 
where  every  step  was  taken  on  rotten  timber  and  the  spreading  roots  of  tall 
trees,  the  luxuriant  growth  of  a  few  years,  half  of  which  were  tottering  over 
our  heads.  Breathless  silence  had  here  taken  her  reign  amid  unhealthy 
fogs,  and  nothing  was  heard  but  the  fearful  crash  of  some  mouldering  branch 
or  towering  beach.  It  was  almost  a  dead  level,  and  the  holes  dug  for  the 
purpose  of  obtaining  manure,  out  of  which  a  few  bones  had  been  taken  six  or 
seven  years  before,  were  full  of  water,  and  connected  with  others  containing 
a  vast  quantity;  so  that  to  empty  one  was  to  empty  them  all ;  yet  a  last  effort 
might  be  crowned  with  success ;  and,  since  so  many  diflficulties  had  been 
conquered,  it  was  resolved  to  embrace  the  only  opportunity  that  now  offered 
for  any  farther  discovery.  Machinery  was  accordingly  erected,  pumps  and 
buckets  were  employed,  and  a  long  course  of  troughs  conducted  the  water 
among  the  distant  roots  to  a  fall  of  a  few  inches,  by  which  the  men  were  en- 
abled, unmolested,  unless  by  the  caving  in  of  the  banks,  to  dig  on  every 
side  from  the  spot  where  the  first  discovery  of  the  bones  had  been  made. 

Here  alternate  success  and  disappointment  amused  and  fatigued  us  for  a 
long  while ;  until,  with  empty  pockets,  low  spirits,  and  languid  workmen, 
we  were  about  to  quit  the  morass  with  but  a  small  collection,  though  in  good 
preservation,  of  ribs,  toe,  and  leg  bones,  &,c.  In  the  meanwhile,  to  leave  no 
means  untried,  the  ground  was  searched  in  various  directions  with  long- 
pointed  rods  and  cross-handics :  afler  some  practice  we  were  able  to  distin- 
guish by  feeUng,  whatever  substances  we  touched  harder  than  the  soil ;  and 
by  this  means,  in  a  very  unexpected  direction,  though  not  more  than  twenty 
feet  from  tlie  first  bones  that  were  discovered,  struck  upon  a  large  collection 
of  bones  which  were  dug  to  and  taken  up,  with  every  possible  care.  They 
proved  to  be  a  humerus,  or  large  bone  of  tlie  right  leg,  with  the  radius  and 
ulna  of  the  left,  the  right  scapula,  the  atlas,  several  toe-bones,  and  the  great 
object  of  our  pursuit,  a  complete  under  jaw  ! 

After  such  a  variety  of  labour  and  length  of  fruitless  expectation,  this 
success  was  extremely  grateful  to  all  parties,  and  the  unconscious  woods 
echoed  with  the  repeated  huzzas,  which  could  not  have  been  more  animated 
if  every  tree  had  participated  in  the  joy.  "Gracious  God,  what  a  jaw  !  how 
many  animals  have  been  crushed  by  it ! "  was  the  exclamation  of  all ;  a 
fresh  supply  of  grog  went  around,  and  the  hearty  fellows,  covered  with  mud, 
continued  the  search  with  increasing  vigour.  The  upper  part  of  the  head 
was  found  twelve  feet  distant,  but  so  extremely  rotten  that  we  could  only 
preserve  the  teeth  and  a  few  fragments.  In  its  form  it  exactly  resembled  the 
head  found  at  Masten's ;  but,  as  that  was  much  injured  by  rough  usage, 
this,  from  its  small  depth  beneath  the  surface,  had  the  cranium  so  rotted 
2 


away  as  only  to  show  the  form  around  the  teeth,  and  thence  extending  to  tlie 
condyles  of  the  neck ;  the  rotten  bone  formed  a  black  and  greasy  mould 
above  that  part  which  was  still  entire,  yet  so  tender  as  to  break  to  pieces  on 
lifting  it  from  its  bed. 

This  collection  was  rendered  still  more  complete  by  the  addition  of  those 
formerly  taken  up,  and  presented  to  us  by  Drs.  Graham  and  Post.  They 
were  a  rib,  the  sternum,  a  femur,  tibia  and  fibula,  and  a  patella  or  knee-pan. 
One  of  the  ribs  had  found  its  way  into  an  obscure  farmhouse,  ten  miles 
distant,  to  which  we  fortunately  traced  it. 

Thus  terminated  this  strange  and  laborious  campaign  of  three  months, 
during  which  we  were  wonderfully  favoured,  although  vegetation  suffered, 
by  the  driest  season  which  had  occurred  within  eight  years.  Our  venerable 
relics  were  carefully  packed  up  in  distinct  cases ;  and,  loading  two  wagons 
with  them,  we  bade  adieu  to  the  vallies  and  stupendous  mountains  of  Sha- 
wangunk  :  so  called  by  their  former  inhabitants,  the  Indians  of  the  Lenape 
tribe.  The  three  sets  of  bones  were  kept  distinct :  with  the  two  collections 
which  were  most  numerous  it  was  intended  to  form  two  skeletons,  by  still 
keeping  them  separate,and  filling  up  the  deficiencies  in  each  by  artificial  imi- 
tations from  the  other,  and  from  counterparts  in  tliemselves.  For  instance, 
in  order  to  complete  the  first  skeleton,  which  was  found  at  Masten's,  the  \m- 
der  jaw  was  to  be  modelled  from  this,  which  is  the  only  entire  one  that  has 
yet  been  discovered,  although  we  have  seen  considerable  fragments  of  at 
least  ten  different  jaws;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  in  the  skeleton  just  dis- 
covered at  Barber's,  the  upper  jaw,  which  was  found  in  the  extreme  of  decay, 
was  to  be  completed,  so  far  as  it  goes,  from  the  more  solid  fragment  of  the 
head  belonging  to  the  skeleton  found  at  Masten's.  Several  feet-bones  in  this 
skeleton  were  to  be  made  from  that ;  and  a  few  in  that  were  to  be  made  from 
this.  In  this  the  right  humerus  being  real,  the  imitation  for  the  left  one 
could  be  made  with  the  utmost  certainty  ;  and  the  radius  and  ulna  of  the 
left  leg  being  real,  those  on  the  right  side  would  follow,  of  course,  &c.  The 
collection  of  ribs  in  both  cases  was  almost  entire;  therefore,  having  discov- 
ered from  a  correspondence  between  the  number  of  vertebrse  and  ribs  in  botli 
animals,  that  there  were  nineteen  pair  of  the  latter,  it  was  necessary  in  only 
four  or  five  instances  to  supply  the  counterparts,  by  correct  models  from  the 
real  bones.  In  this  manner  the  two  skeletons  were  formed,  and  are  in  both 
instances  composed  of  the  appropriate  bones  of  the  animal,  or  exact  imitations 
from  the  real  bones  in  the  same  skeleton,  or  from  those  of  the  same  propor- 
tion in  the  other.  Nothing  in  either  skeleton  is  imaginary;  and  what  we 
have  not  unquestionable  authority  for,  we  leave  deficient ;  which  happens  in 
only  two  instances,  the  summit  of  the  head,  and  the  end  of  the  tail. — God- 
man's  Nat.  Hist,  by  Rembrandt  Peale. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  OF 


Italian  Sculptor  Ccracchi  (who  afterwards  conspired  against 
the  life  of  Buonaparte).  Among  these  Mr.  Peale  was  the 
only  portrait  painter  in  oil.  At  his  house  the  meetings 
were  held,  and  the  conversations  were  often  interesting  un- 
der all  the  excitements  of  imagination  and  genius;  but  they 
ended  in  a  separation  into  two  unproductive  parties;  the 
native  artists  contented  with  a  school  of  art,  and  the  for- 
eigners swelling  with  a  mighty  scheme  of  a  national 
Academy. 

In  the  year  1794  another  experiment  was  made  at  Mr. 
Peale's — an  academy  was  formed;  some  plaister  casts  were 
collected,  and  arrangements  were  made  to  draw  from  the 
life.  When  the  person  (a  baker)  who  was  engaged  to  stand  as 
the  model,  found  himself  surrounded  by  new  faces  and  pene- 
trating eyes,  he  shrunk  from  the  scrutiny,  and  precipitately 
fled.  In  this  dilemma  Mr.  Peale  stripped  and  presented 
himself  as  the  model  to  his  fellow  artists.  An  exhibition 
was  likewise  got  up,  intended  to  be  annual.  It  was  opened 
in  the  Hall  of  Independence;  comprised  a  very  respectable 
display  of  pictures,  cliiefly  lent  by  private  gentlemen,  and 
was  well  attended  by  the  public. 

It  was  not  until  ISIO  that  a  foundation  could  be  laid  for 
a  permanent  Academy.  Again  the  amateurs  of  the  Arts 
were  invited  to  meet  at  Mr.  Peale's;  but  their  number  was 
so  small,  and  their  influence  over  the  public  mind  so  limited, 
that  nothing  but  the  most  zealous  exertions  of  Mr.  Joseph 
Hopkinson  could  have  availed  in  procuring  the  funds  which 
were  necessary  to  erect  a  suitable  building,  and  to  import 
from  Europe  the  requisite  plaister  casts.  Mr.  Peale  and  his 
son,  who  was  recently  from  Europe,  laboured  incessantly 
to  mend  and  display  these  objects,  and  to  organize  the 
drawing  academies.  He  lived  to  see  and  contribute  to 
seventeen  annual  exhibitions. 

Early  rising,  temperate  repasts,  and  industrious  habits, 
had  invigorated  his  constitution,  and  he  had  reached  his 
eighty-fifth  year  with  but  little  interruption  to  his  health, 
and  pleasantly  talked  of  living  to  be  at  least  a  hundred  years 
old.  The  manner  of  his  death  was  strictly  accordant  with 
the  peculiarities  of  his  life;  for  it  was  not  so  much  the  con- 
sequence of  old  age  as  of  too  much  youth,  in  imprudently 
carrying  his  own  trunk  to  get  up  with  a  stage  which  he 
feared  would  leave  him  behind.  This  induced  a  violent 
palpitation  and  disorder  of  his  heart,  from  which  he  had 
scarcely  recovered,  when  he  indiscreetly  mounted  the  high- 
est ladder  at  the  new  building  of  the  Arcade,  the  upper 
rooms  of  which  were  being  constructed  to  hold  his  Museum. 
This  brought  on  a  relapse  and  his  speedy  and  lamented 
death,  in  1827;  leaving  his  Museum  as  a  joint  stock  to  his 
cliildren;    Raphael,  Angelica  Kaufman,   Rembrandt,   Ru- 


bens,  Sophonisba   Carriera,   Linnsus,  Franklin,  Sybilla, 
Meriam,  Elizabeth,  and  Titian. 

Few  men  have  passed  through  a  greater  variety  of  scenes 
and  occupations.  Perhaps  in  the  organization  of  his  mind 
there  was  too  great  a  propensity  to  indulge  in  every  novel 
occupation;  certainly  there  was  a  peculiarity  of  fancy  which 
controlled  him  in  these  enjoyments;  he  loved  to  do  what 
nobody  around  him  could  do,  and  exhibited  the  most  ex- 
traordinary industry,  perseverance,  and  ingenuity  to  accom- 
plisli  his  purposes.  His  chief  delight,  though  of  a  cheerful 
and  social  temper,  was  to  find  himself  alone  in  the  trackless 
ocean  of  experiments,  contending  with  the  rough  elements 
and  surmounting  difficulties  as  they  followed  in  successive 
waves  never  sinking,  never  despairing.  At  first  a  saddler, 
harness  and  coach  maker;  then  a  silversmith  and  watchma- 
ker; it  was  not  till  his  26th  year  that  his  eyes  opened  to  the 
boundless  fields  of  art;  but  in  this  pursuit  he  mingled  the 
greatest  variety,  painting  in  oil,  in  crayons,  and  in  minia- 
ture; modelling  in  clay,  wax  and  plaister;  sawing  his  own 
ivory,  moulding  his  glasses,  and  making  the  shagreen  cases 
for  the  miniatures  which  he  painted,  at  a  time  when  none 
of  these  articles  could  be  procured,  owing  to  the  derange- 
ments of  a  revolutionary  war.  He  made  himself  a  wooden 
mannequin  or  lay-figure,  upon  which  to  cast  his  draperies; 
made  a  violin  and  guitar,  and  assisted  in  the  construction  of 
the  first  organ  built  in  Philadelphia.  But  it  was  chiefly  in 
multitudinous  operations  connected  with  his  Museum  that 
he  found  continual  employment  for  his  invention  and  me- 
chanical propensities.  Transparent  paintings  with  change- 
able effects  of  light  and  colour,  and  figures  in  motion;  the 
preservation  of  every  variety  of  animals;  the  moulding  of 
glass  eyes,  carving  wooden  limbs,  upon  which  to  stretch 
the  skins  of  his  quadrupeds,  with  anatomical  accuracy,  &c. 
Many  precious  months  of  his  life  were  consumed  in  per- 
fecting, with  Mr.  J.  H.  Hawkins,  their  Polygraph,  which 
became  one  of  his  untiring  hobbies,  as  he  never  wrote  a 
letter  afterwards  without  preserving  a  cotemporaneous 
duplicate. 

For  a  number  of  years  he  supplied  the  dificiencies  of  his 
teeth  with  ivory  of  his  own  manufacture,  and  finally  suc- 
ceeded in  making  them  of  porcelain,  not  only  for  himself 
and  family,  but  for  others,  as  he  prided  himself  on  being 
the  only  operator  in  this  style  in  America. 

We  shall  close  this  sketch  by  an  observation  of  Colonel 
Trumbull:  "That  an  interesting  comparison  might  be 
drawn  between  jNIr.  Peale  and  his  countryman  Mr.  West, 
who  was  a  striking  instance  how  much  could  be  accom- 
plished with  moderate  genius,  by  a  steady  and  undeviating 
course  directed  to  a  single  object;  to  become  the  first  His- 
torical painter  of  his  age;  whilst  the  other,  with  a  more 


CHARLES  WILLSON  PEALE.  vii 

lively  genius,  was  able  to  acquire  an  extraordinary  excel-  However  praiseworthy   may  have   been  his  industry; 

lence  in  many  arts,  between  which  his  attention  was  too  remarkable  or  amusing  his  ingenuity;  and  productive  his 

much  divided.     For  had  he  confined  his  operations  to  one  perseverance  to  the  success  of  his  INIuseum — he  possessed 

pursuit  he  probably  would  have  attained  the  highest  excel-  a  higher  claim  to  the  remembrance  and  esteem  of  his  coun- 

lence  in  the  Fine  Arts."  trymen.     He  was  a  mild,  benevolent,  good  man. 


TO 

VOLUME  I. 


PORTRAIT  OF   CHARLES   WILLSON   PEALE. 

ENGRAVED   TITLE   PAGE.  • 

Plate  I.  Common  Deer,  (Buck,  Doe  and  Fawn),          ...  3 

11.  Ruffed  Grouse  or  Pheasant,           -             -             -             -             -  13 

III.  Eed  Fox,         ..-.-..  25 

IV.  Quails  or  Partridges,         ------  37 

V.  Newfoundland  Dog,     .--...  49 

VI.  Rough  Billed  Pelican,       -             -             -             -             -             -  6 1 

VII.  Prairie  Wolves,            ......  73 

VJII.  3Ieadow  Lark  and  Snow  Bird,       -             -             ...  85 

IX.  Illustration  of  Woodcock  Shooting,      ....  97 

X.  Goosander  and  Golden  Ejed  Duck,           ....  io9 

XI.  Grisly  Bears,               .             .             .             .             .             .  121 

XII.  Robin  and  Blue  Bird,        -             -             .             .             .             -  133 

XIII.  Trout  of  the  Brook  and  Lake,             -             .             .             .  145 

XIV.  Woodcock,             -             -             .             .             .             .             -158 
XV.  Ground  Squirrel,          -             -             .             .             .             .  ^69 

XVI.  Wild  Swan, ^^^ 

XVII.  American  Argali,         -             .             .             .             .             .  ^93 

XVIII.  Rail, 206 

XIX.  American  Varying  Hare,          .             -             .             .             .  217 

XX.  The  Eed  Tailed  Hawk  and  American  Sparrow  Hawk,      -              .  229 

XXI.  Canada  Porcupine,       -             .             .             .             .             .  241 

XXII.  Summer  Duck  or  Wood  Duck,     -             -             .             .             .  252 

XXIIL  Great  Tailed  Squirrel,              .             .             .             .             .  265 

XXIV.  Raven, 2^9 


XATURAL.  HISTORY. 


No  branch  of  human  leai-ning  is  more  intimately  con- 
nected with  the  other  sciences,  than  that  of  Natural  His- 
tory, and  none  presents  so  inexhaustible  a  fund  of  inquiry 
and  amusement.  Placed  as  we  are,  in  the  midst  of  the  mul- 
tiplied productions  of  nature,  it  is  almost  impossible  even 
for  the  most  unobservant,  to  avoid  becoming  more  or  less 
familiar  with  the  manners  of  animals,  the  economy  of  ve- 
getables, and  the  general  phenomena  of  the  earth.  From 
an  acquaintance  with  these,  manifold  advantages  have  alrea- 
dy accrued  to  man,  and  it  is  but  reasonable  to  suppose  that 
a  more  intimate  knowledge  of  them,  will  greatly  increase 
the  comfort  and  enjoyment  of  the  whole  human  race.  The 
agriculturist  is  obliged  to  acquaint  himself,  with  the  habits 
and  characters  of  the  domesticated  animals  he  employs, 
with  the  qualities  of  the  soil  he  cultivates,  with  the  nature 
of  the  grain  he  raises,  and  with  the  effects  of  different  me- 
teorogical  changes.  Even  the  fine  arts,  though  generally 
considered  as  peculiarly  appertaining  to  the  domain  of  the 
imagination,  greatly  depend  upon  a  knowledge  of  Natural 
History.  A  science,  which  when  taken  in  its  full  extent, 
is  so  intimately  connected  with  all  our  pursuits  and  plea- 
sures, forming  in  fact  the  basis  of  the  other  sciences,  and 
far  more  useful  than  any  for  the  ordinary  purposes  of  life, 
can  never  be  too  generally  or  too  industriously  cultivated. 
Supposing  that  the  study  of  animated  nature  is  far  more 
engaging  to  the  generality  of  readers,  and  leaving  the  exa- 
mination of  plants  and  minerals  to  the  botanist  and  geologist; 
we  shall  endeavour  in  the  succeeding  sketches  of  our  native 
animals,  to  present  such  only,  as  from  their  holding  a  more 

eminent  rank  among  the  brute  creation,  or  from  their  being 
A 


peculiarly  serviceable  or  injurious  to  man,  are  the  most 
worthy  of  notice,  and  most  likely  to  interest  the  observer. 
In  attempting  this,  we  shall  not  proceed  in  any  regular 
or  systematic  order,  or  adhere  to  any  system  of  classifica- 
tion in  the  arrangement  of  the  subjects.  But  at  tlie  same 
time,  the  most  sedulous  attention  will  be  paid  to  their  syno- 
nomy  and  scientific  description,  and  we  shall  strive  to  ex- 
plain their  characters,  with  as  much  simplicity,  elegance  of 
expression,  and  certainty  of  information,  as  we  can  possi- 
bly attain.  We,  however,  are  far  from  considering,  that 
the  study  of  nature  consists  in  the  acquirement  of  words, 
the  retention  of  names,  or  even  the  accurate  description  of 
species ;  under  the  present  elevated  views  of  science,  these 
are  esteemed  but  subsidiary  steps.  A  prejudiced  adherence 
to  mere  nomenclature,  as  is  forcibly  observed  by  a  late  dis- 
tinguished writer,  "shuts  the  door  to  all  further  improve- 
ment, and  has  impressed  naturalists  with  an  idea,  that  the 
highest  object  to  be  obtained,  is  to  label  the  contents  of  a 
museum,  and  to  arrange  stuffed  animals  like  quaint  patterns 
in  glass  cases."  We  would  "not  wish  it  to  be  understood, 
however,  that  we  consider  nomenclature  and  scientific  ar- 
rangement as  useless  or  beneath  the  notice  of  a  philosophic 
naturalist;  far  from  it;  experience  has  amply  demonstrated 
that  a  neglect  of  these,  must  necessarily  involve  the  sci- 
ences in  an  almost  inextricable  confusion,  and  retard,  in- 
stead of  facilitating  the  acquisition  of  knowledge. 

We  do  not  aim  at  originality,  but  shall  freely  avail  our- 
selves of  the  labours  of  our  predecessors,  adding  however 
such  new  and  interesting  matter  as  we  may  become  pos- 


NATURAL  H) STORY, 
scsscd  of,,  in    elucidation   oi   tlic  subjects;   our  great  aim     the  public,  we  leave  the  oandi  1  and  judii;ious  t«  li-'cidc. 
being  to  preseat  such  a  history  of  our  different  native  aiii-     In  tJie  formation  of  planv,  tiic  general  aiid  the  statesman, 
nials,  rjt  may  amuse  whilst  it  instructs,  and  tend  to  invite     the  autJior  and  the  i'rtist,  are  apt  to  rely  too  much  on  their 
or:r  rea'lers  to  closer  and  more  minute  investigations.  ov!i  powers  and  the  fortuitous  concuiTPnc^  of  favourable 

ctiti-n.'.tance'-.     That  which  displayed  elegance  and  splen- 
With  these  views  we  have  undertaken  riie  present    dour,  when  it  existed  'only  in  idea,  but  too  often  becomes 
work;  how  far  the  execution  may  merit  tlie  approbation  of    mean  atid  uncouth  •ss'hen  brought  into  real  existence. 

THE  ET.HTORS. 


'f- 


CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HI8TORY. 


^mmmi(©^ir  mwm^^  i^(im^e* 


COMMON  DEER. 
CERVUS  VIRGINIANUS. 

[Plate  I.] 
Cervus  Virginianus.  G^iBi^m.—FaUoiv  Deer.  Catesbt, 
App.  ii.  28.  Lawson,  Carol.  123. —  Virginian  Deer. 
Pennant.  Arct.  Zool.  i.  2,2.—Cariconfemelle.  Buffon, 
12.  pi.  44. — Cerfde  la  Louisiane.  G.  Cuv.  Ossmen. 
Foss.  iv.  34.  Regn.  animal,  i.  263. — Cerfde  Virginie. 
Desm.  Mammal,  sp.  679.  p.  442.— Common  Deer. 
GoDMAN.  i.  306. — Peale's  Museum. 

The  word  Deer  is  derived  either  from  the  Teutonic  deor, 
or  from  the  Greek  @^^,  and  is  very  variously  written  and 
pronounced,  not  only  by  different  nations,  but  also  in  differ- 
ent ages.  These  well  known  quadrupeds,  belong  to  the  great 
order  of  Pecora  or  Ruminants;  an  order,  as  is  observed  l)y 
Cuvier,  exceedingly  natural  and  well  determined,  nearly  all 
the  animals  composing  it,  being  formed  on  the  same  model, 
tlie  Camel  alone  presenting  some  slight  exceptions  to  the 
common  character  of  the  group. 

These  characters  are,  having  incisors  or  cutting  teeth,  in 
the  lower  jaw  only,  and  these  generally  eight  in  number; 
their  place  in  the  upper  jaw  being  supplied  by  a  hardened 
gum.  Between  these  incisors  and  the  molars  or  grinding 
teeth,  is  a  vacant  space,  except  in  some  genera,  which  are 
provided  with  one  or  two  canines.  The  molars,  which  are 
usually  six  in  number,  are  marked  on  their  crowns  by  two 
crescents,  whose  convexity  is  turned  inwards  in  the  upper 
jaw,  and  outwards  in  the  lower.  The  feet  are  terminated  by 
two  toes  covered  by  hoofs,  which  have  flat  surfaces  closely 
applied  to  each  other,  giving  the  appearance  of  a  single  hoof, 
divided  through  the  middle,  whence  the  terms  cloven  footed, 
bifurcated,  &c.  The  most  singular  peculiarity  of  these  ani- 
mals is  that  of  rumination,  or  of  returning  the  food  to  the 
mouth,  to  be  again  masticated,  after  it  has  been  once  swal- 
lowed. This  peculiarity  arises  from  the  structure  of  their 
stomachs,  which  are  four  in  number— The  first  is  called  the 
paunch,  and  is  destined  to  receive  the  half  masticated  food, 


when  it  is  first  swallowed ;  the  food  soon  passes  into  the  se- 
cond or  bonnet,  which  is  small,  globular,  and  lined  by  a 
membrane  disposed  like  the  cells  of  a  honey  comb.  From 
this  stomach,  in  which  it  undergoes  a  kind  of  preparation, 
the  food  is  returned  to  the  animal's  mouth,  to  be  subjected 
to  a  more  complete  mastication,  after  which  it  is  again 
swallowed  and  passes  into  the  third  stomach  or  feck,  whose 
internal  membrane  is  arranged  in  longitudinal  folds,  like 
the  leaves  of  a  book;  it  then  finally  enters  the  fourth  or  true 
stomach  in  which  it  undergoes  the  process  of  digestion. 
The  fat  of  ruminating  animals  is  harder  and  more  consistent 
than  that  of  other  quadrupeds,  and  is  well  known  under  the 
name  of  Tallow.  Of  all  the  numerous  species  of  animals, 
none  are  so  useful  to  man  as  those  included  in  this  order. 
They  supply  him  with  the  mass  of  his  food,  and  furnish  a 
variety  of  substances  indispensable  to  his  comfort  and  hap- 
piness. 

The  genus  Deer,  consists  of  such  animals  of  this  order  as 
are  furnished  with  deciduous  horns  or  antlers,  destitute  of  a 
horny  sheath.  They  are  generally  remarkable  not  only  for 
the  elegance  of  their  form,  the  symmetry  of  their  propor- 
tions and  swiftness  of  their  motions,  but  also  for  the  excel- 
lence of  their  flesh.  Hence  it  is  not  surprising  that  they 
have  been  eagerly  hunted  in  every  age,  as  well  for  sub- 
sistence as  for  amusement.  The  most  striking  and  curious 
parts  of  their  conformation  are  the  horns,  or  those  osseous 
productions  of  the  forehead  which  are  detached  and  repro- 
duced annually,  and  which,  except  in  the  Rein  Deer,  are 
exclusively  appropriated  to  the  males.  This  annual  shed- 
ding of  the  horns,  however,  is  not  peculiar  to  the  whole 
genus,  but  appears  to  be  restricted  to  such  species  as  reside 
in  cold  or  temperate  climates,  or  in  whom  these  appendages 
are  of  a  large  size.  This  provision  of  nature  is  a  most  in- 
explicable phenomenon  as  regards  its  utility,  and  yet  the 
mode  in  which  the  process  is  effected  is  subordinate  to  fixed 
and  immutable  laws. 

The  word  horn,  which  is  generally  applied  to  the  antlers 
of  the  Deer  kind,  is  apt  to  lead  to  erroneous  ideas  on  the 
subject,  as  this  antler  is  a  real  bone,  formed  in  the  same 


THE  CABINET  0¥  NATURAL  HISTORY, 


:  nd  constimted  of  the  same  integral  parts  as  other 
ii'.)rv..i.  These  protuberances  begin  to  be  developed  at  a 
given  age ;  Uie  lirst  appearance  being  a  tubercle,  which,  iiv 
most  cases,  gradually  rises  into  a  simple  antler,  though  in 
some  s]K-ci(;s  it  branches  off  into  ramilications;  after  a  cer- j 
lain  period  the  development  is  arrested,  and  finally  the 
horn  is  detached  and  falls  off.  The  learned  translators  of 
Bluraenbach's  Comparative  Anatomy*  have  given  the  fol- 
lowing explanation  of  this  curious  process.  "The  antler 
adlieres  to  the  liorital  hone,  by  its  basis;  and  the  substance  of 
the  two  puLi  ts  being  consolidated  together,  no  distinction  can 
be  traced,  when  the  antler  is  perfectly  organised.  But 
the  skin  of  the  forehead  terminates  at  its  basis,  which  is 
marked  by  an  In-egular  projecting  bony  circle,  and  there 
Is  neither  skin  nor  periosteumon  the  rest  of  it.  The  time 
of  its  remaining  on  the  head,  is  one  year;  as  the  period  of 
its  fall  approaches,  a  reddish  mark  of  separation  is  observed 
helveen  the  process  of  the  frontal  bone  and  the  antler. 
This  becomes  more  and  more  distinctly  marked,  until  fJie 
connexion  is  entirely  destroyed.  The  skin  of  the  forehead 
extends  over  the  process  of  the  frontal  bone  when  the 
antler  has  fallen.  At  the  period  of  its  regeneration,  a 
tubercle  ai-ises  from  this  process,  and  tekcs  the  form  of  the 
future  antler,  being  still  covered  by  a  prolongation  of  the 
skins.  The  structure  of  the  part  at  this  time  is  soft  and  cai'- 
lilaginous;  it  is  immediately  invested  by  a  true  perios- 
teum, containing  large  a)id  numerous  vessels,  which  pene- 
trate the  cartilage  in  every  direction,  and,  hj^  the  giadiial 
deposition  of  ossific  matter,  convert  it  into  perfect  bone. 
The  vessels  pass  through  openings  in  the  projecting  bonj- 
circle  at  the  base  of  the  antler  ;  the  formatioji  of  this  part 
proceeding  in  the  saine  ratio  with  that  of  the  rest,  the  of -jn- 
inj^s  ai'e  contracted  and  the  vessels  are  thereby  pressed, 
till  a  complete  obstruction  ensues.  The  skin  and  perios- 
t.-iini  tJien  perish,  become  dry,  and  fall  off;  the  surface  of 
',.he  antler  remaining  uncovered." 

The  form  and  disposition  of  the  antlers  differ  in  every 
.species,  and  the  flattened  or  palmated  shape  of  them  in  some, 
seems  to  be  a  provision  of  nature  to  enable  the  animals  to 
obtain  their  food  from  beneath  the  snow,  for  it  is  a  re- 
markablf'  fact  tliat  this  structure  is  almost  wholly  confined 
TO  such  as  inhabit  high  latitudes,  and  is  developed  in  propor- 
tion to  the  length  and  severity  of  the  climate. 

The  sense  of  smell  is  very  delicate  in  these  animals,  and 
Ihey  are  exceedingly  select  in- their  choice  of  food,  applying 
to  it  the  nostrils,  and  sometimes  the  spiracula  which  seem 
to  communicate,  in  some  manner,  with  the  olfiictory  appara- 
tus. This  spiraculuni  or  sinu.s  is  not  found  in  all  species, 
some  having  only  a  fold  of  tJie  skin  or  none,  whilst  in 


others  it  forms  ;i  sack.  The  French  call  tliem  larmiers, 
believing  that  thej^  are  receptacles  for  tears;  this  idea  hn:< 
also  been  adopted  by  fioets:  thus,  Shakspeare  gives  the  fol- 
lowing touching  description  of  a  wounded  stag: 

"  Tho  wictflicil  animal  heav'd  forih  nViili  sr-oaiis, 
T.hal  tlioir  discliargc  did  stretch  his  leathern  cor.t 
Almost  to  bursting :  aud  the  big  round  tears 
Coiirstii  one  another  down  his  innocent  nose 
In  piteous  chase.'' 

The  voice  of  the  genus  is  in  geneial  disagreeable.  The 
females  produce  one  or  two  fawns  at  a  time.  In  tempcr.'tte 
regions  this  takes  place  in  the  spriiig.  The  intellectual 
character  of  the  Deer  is  far  from  contemptible;  rendering 
the  chase  of  the  stag  very  curious.  The  anuisement  ol' 
hunting  has  been  as  assiduously  cultivated  among  civilized 
nations  as  with  the  savage  tribes  who  depend  upon  it  for  their 
subsistence.  In  fact,  it  was  considered  as  an  art,  and  accom- 
modated with  a  set  of  technical  phrases.  Thus,  in  the  old 
works  on  "Venerie,"  we  find  that  the  j'oung  animal  in  tlv.' 
first  six  months  of  its  life  was  called  a  calf  or  hind  calf,  it 
then  became  a /moMe>v  then&pricket^  brock,  or  staggurJ ; 
next  a  stag,  and  after  that  a  Aar/ .•  the  female,  from  a  hind 
calf,  becomes  fir.st  a  hearse  and  tlien  a  hind.  The  stag  is 
said  to  harbour  in  tlie  place  in  v\  hich  he  resides;  when  he 
cries  he  is  said  to  bell;  the  pri'V  '  '--  '"■■'"  is  the  slot;  the 
tail  the  single;  his  cxcreu    <  •  his  horns  are 

termed  his  head,  and  are,  in  Oraches;  in  the 

third  year,  spears;  in  the  fotnt  "n  \HrM-,  tv.t:  part  bearing  the 
antlers  is  called  tlie  beam;  he  has  also  antlers,  sur-anilers, 
and  royal-antlers.  These  animals  afford  various  articles  of 
utility  to  man.  The  firm  and  solid  texture  of  the  horns  fits 
them  for  handles  to  knives  and  other  domestic  utensils.  The 
skin  is  dressed  into  excellent  leather.  The  flesh,  as  we  have 
before  obsei-ved,  affords  a  pleasant  and  wholesome  food. 

The  Common  Deer  is  found  from  Canada  on  the  north 
to  Mexico  on  the  south,  and  its  western  range  is  perhaps 
only  limited  by  tlie  ocean.  This  beautiful  and  delicate 
animal  Is  about  three  feet  three  inches  in  height  at  the 
shoulder,  of  a  light  and  elegant  form,  witli  a  long  tapering 
nose;  the  horns  reclined  on  the  head  turn  outwards,  and  then 
form  a  decided  curve  so  as  to  present  their  extremities  for- 
wards; the  burr  is  of  a  moderate  size,  and  just  above  it,  on 
the  internal  side  of  the  beam,  is  a  single  short  nnller,  inclin- 
ing inwards;  the  first  horn  is  onlj'  a  simple  pricket,  which  \h 
succeeded  b)'-  a  fork  on  the  summit;  in  the  fifth  year,  the 
antJers  consist  of  two  cylindrical  whitish  and  tolerabh- 
smootli  shafts,  separating  into  two  or  three  snags  on  the  pos- 
terior part  of  it  upwards  and  outwards.  In  old  animals  the 
superior  part  of  the  beam  flattens,  aud  the  snags  ami  point 
become  dichotomous;  while  the  burr  widens  considerably, 
and  sometimes  throws  out  spurious  collateral  shoots.     TIk.- 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


horns  are  usually  about  twenty  inches  in  length,  measured 
along  the  curve,  but  are  subject  to  much  variation,  as  in 
the  fourth  year  animals  have  been  killed  with  only  single 
prickets  of  seven  or  more  inches  in  length;  this  malforma- 
tion has  given  rise  to  a  supposition  that  we  had  Deer  with 
single  horns  in  the  United  States. 

The  summer  coat  of  the  male  and  female,  is  of  a  glossy 
cinnamon  brown  above;  the  under  pai-t  of  the  lower  jaw, 
throat,  belly,  lower  part  of  the  limbs,  posterior  edges  of 
the  fore  limbs,  anterior  part  of  the  thighs  and  inferior 
surface  of  the  tail,  white.  The  front  is  gra)4sh,  whilst 
the  tip  of  the  muzzle  is  of  a  deep  brown,  with  two  white 
spots  upon  the  upper  lip;  and  on  the  sides  of  the  lower 
jaw,  at  the  angles  of  the  mouth,  two  triangular  black  spots 
are  very  generally  found.  The  ears  are  long  and  pointed, 
the  eyes  peculiarly  soft  and  beautiful.  The  fawn  colour 
changes  to  a  fine  brown  gray  in  winter.  The  fawn  is  of  a 
lively  fulvous  brown,  marked  during  the  first  year  with 
numerous  white  spots;  towards  the  latter  part  of  the  summer 
it  loses  these,  and  becomes  gra3-ish.  Mr.  Say  observes  of 
these  changes  "  in  this  state  the  Deer  is  said  by  the  hunters 
to  be  in  the  gray.  This  coat  is  shed  in  the  latter  part  of 
May  and  beginning  of  June,  and  is  then  substituted  by 
the  reddish  coat.  In  this  state,  the  animal  is  said  to  be  in 
the  red.  Towards  the  last  of  August,  the  old  bucks 
begin  to  change  to  the  dark  bluish  colour;  the  doe  com- 
mences this  change  a  week  or  two  later.  In  this  state, 
they  are  said  to  be  in  the  blue.  This  coat  gradually 
lengthens  until  it  again  comes  to  the  gray.  The  skin  is 
said  to  be  toughest  in  the  red,  thickest  in  the  blue,  and 
thinnest  in  the  gray;  the  blue  skin  is  the  most  valuable."* 

There  appear  to  be  several  varieties  of  the  Common 
Deer  inhabiting  this  continent.  Mr.  Say  notices  one 
obtained  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Engineer's  cantonment, 
of  which  he  saw  three  specimens.  In  this  variety  the 
feet  were  marked  with  a  white  triangle,  the  point  upwards; 
and  also  having  the  black  mark  on  the  lower  lip  strongly 
characterised.  Albinos  are  by  no  means  uncommon  among 
this  species:  Mr.  Titian  Peale  saw  three  during  the  past 
summer,  in  Lycoming  county  in  this  State,  of  which  he 
obtained  a  buck  and  fawn;  these  have  since  been  added  to 
the  valuable  collection  in  the  Philadelphia  Museum. 

The  strongest  variety,  however,  is  the  Long  Tailed 
Fallow  Deer,  spoken  of  by  Lewis  and  Clarke,  and  since 
described  under  the  name  of  Cervus  leuciirus,  by  Dr. 
Richardson,  who  observes  that  the  name  of  C.  niacronrus 
seems  to  have  been  intended  to  designate  this  species, 
but  the  characters  authors  have  assigned  to  it,  rather  apper- 
tain to  a  variety  of  the  Black  Tailed  Deer.    This  animal 


appears  to  bear  a  strong  general  resemblance,  in  size,  form, 
and  habits,  to  the  Roebuck  of  Europe,  and  has  hence 
obtained  that  name  among  the  Scotch  Highlanders,  em- 
ployed by  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company,  and  that  of 
Chevreidl,  from  the  French  Canadians.  Mr.  Douglas, 
who  has  given  an  account  of  it,  in  the  Zoological  Journal, 
says,  it  is  the  most  common  Deer  in  the  districts  adjoining 
the  Columbia  River,  frequenting  coppices  composed  of 
Corylus,  Rubiis,  Rosa,  &c.  on  the  declivities  of  low  hills, 
or  dry  undulating  grounds.  Its  gait  is  two  ambling  steps, 
and  a  bound,  exceeding  double  the  distance  of  the  steps, 
from  which  it  does  not  depart,  even  when  closely  pur- 
sued. In  running,  it  carries  its  tail  erect,  which,  from 
its  unusual  length,  is  the  most  remarkable  feature  about 
the  animal.  Lewis  and  Clarke  say  of  it — "  The  Com- 
mon red  Deer  inhabit  the  Rocky  Mountains  about  the 
Columbia,  and  down  the  river  as  far  as  where  the  tide  water 
commences.  They  do  not  differ  essentially  from  those  of 
the  United  States,  being  the  same  in  shape,  .size,  and 
appearance.  The  tail  is,  however,  different,  being  of 
unusual  length,  far  exceeding  that  of  the  Common  Deer." 
These  gentlemen  were  of  opinion,  that  it  was  only  a 
variety  of  the  C.  virginianus,  and  Dr.  Richardson 
admits  that  it  may  eventually  prove  to  be  so. 

The  males  shed  their  horns  in  January ;  soon  after 
which  the  new  ones  begin  to  be  developed;  these  arrive  at 
their  full  growth  towards  the  end  of  the  summer,  but 
continue  in  the  velvet  until  the  end  of  September,  or 
beginning  of  November.  At  this  time  they  are  fattest  and 
in  the  best  condition,  when  the  rutting  season  commences, 
and  continues  about  a  month,  usually  terminating  about 
the  end  of  December.  This  period  is  with  the  Deer  a 
season  of  madness.  His  neck  is  then  swollen,  his  e}-es  are 
wild  and  glaring;  he  seems  to  forget  his  usual  timidity  and 
caution,  and  wanders  through  the  forest  unmindful  of  dan- 
ger, striking  his  horns  with  wild  impetuosity  against  any 
obstacle  that  presents  itself,  and  his  voice  becomes  louder 
and  harsher.  "WTien  two  or  more  rival  males  court  tlie 
favours  of  the  same  doe,  dreadful  combats  ensue.  They 
redouble  their  cries,  paw  the  earth  with  their  feet,  and  dash 
their  heads  against  each  other  with  impetuous  fury.  One  is 
at  length  disabled,  or  obliged  to  seek  safety  in  flight,  but 
the  victor  is  often  forced  to  renew  tlie  conflict  with  a  fresh 
opponent.  These  combats  are  sometimes  fatal  to  both  com- 
batants, from  their  horns  becoming  so  entangled  with  each 
other,  as  to  prevent  their  disengagement,  the  irritated  ani- 
mals wear)'ing  themselves  with  fruitless  struggles,  till  they 
die  from  exhaustion  and  hunger,  or  fall  an  easy  prey  to 
wolves.   In  Maj.  Long's  Expedition,  the  following  instance* 


*  Long-'s  Exped.  to  the  Rocky  Mi 

B 


*  LoDg^"s  Expcd.  to  ihe  Rocky  Mo 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY, 


is  recorded.  "  As  we  were  descending  from  one  of  these 
ridges,  our  attention  was  called  to  an  unusual  noise,  pro- 
ceeding from  a  copse  of  low  bushes  on  our  right,  at  a  few 
rods  from  the  path ;  on  arriving  at  the  spot,  we  found 
two  buck  deer,  their  horns  fast  interlocked  with  each 
other,  and  both  much  spent  with  fatigue;  one  in  particular 
being  so  much  exhausted,  as  to  be  unable  to  stand.  As 
we  perceived  it  would  be  impossible  they  should  extricate 
themselves,  and  must  linger  in  their  present  situation  until 
they  died  of  hunger,  or  were  destroyed  by  the  wolves,  we 
despatched  them  with  our  knives,  not  without  having  first 
made  an  unavailing  attempt  to  disentangle  their  antlers. " 
Mr.  Say  also  appears  to  think  that  this  is  by  no  means 
an  uncommon  occurrence. 

The  doe  brings  forth  one  or  two,  and  sometimes,  though 
very  rarely,  three  fawns.  When  the  period  of  parturi- 
tion comes  on,  she  retires  from  the  society  of  the  young 
deer,  in  whose  society  she  had  spent  the  winter.  She 
feels  the  tenderest  affection  for  her  offspring,  and  displays 
great  sagacity  in  protecting  and  bringing  it  up.  She 
carefully  hides  it  in  some  dense  thicket,  from  those 
numerous  enemies  of  whom  its  life  is  in  danger.  Even 
the  buck  himself  requires  to  be  guarded  against.  But 
between  courage  and  ingenuity,  she  proves  herself  a  pow- 
erful protectress.  In  the  defence  of  her  young,  she  will 
sometimes  oppose  force  to  force  in  the  boldest  manner;  at 
others,  she,  with  the  same  unconcern  for  her  own  safety, 
offers  herself  to  the  chase,  to  mislead  the  hunter  or  beast 
of  prey,  from  the  covert  in  which  she  has  secreted  her 
young. 

Deer  are  supposed  to  live  from  thirty  to  forty  years, 
though,  judging  from  some  instances  of  the  longevity  of 
the  stag  of  Europe,  (C  elephus,)  it  is  probable  that  this 
is  underrated.  Pliny  tells  us,  that  more  than  one  hundred 
years  after  the  death  of  Alexander  the  Great,  some  stags 
were  taken  with  golden  chains  about  their  necks,  which 
appeared  to  have  been  put  upon  them  by  command  of  that 
hero. 

The  mild  and  peaceful  character  of  Deer,  affords  them 
no  protection  from  the  hostilities  of  rapacious  enemies. 
Wolves  and  other  beasts  of  prey  destroy  vast  numbers;  but 
their  chief  enemy  is  man,  wKo  wars  with  the  savage 
animals  in  his  own  defence,  tyrannicps  over  the  domestic 
because  he  finds  their  services  useful,  and  pursues  the 
gentle  inhabitants  of  the  forests,  either  for  subsistence  or 
amusement.  From  the  earliest  ages,  the  hunting  of  Deer 
has  been  pursued  with  eagerness,  and  many  stratagems 
have  been  resorted  to,  for  the  purpose  of  slaying  or  cap- 
turing these  timid  animals.  We  cannot,  at  this  time,  allude 
to  those  employed  in  other  countries,  and  will,  therefore, 
confine  our  observations  to  such  as  have  been  successfully 


practised  by  our  aboriginal  tribes,  and  their  more  civilised 
successors. 

One  mode  practised  by  the  Indians,  is  to  imitate  the  cry 
of  the  male,  or  fawn.  The  voice  of  the  male  calling  the 
female,  is  not  very  dissimilar  to  that  caused  by  blowing 
into  the  muzzle  of  a  gun  or  hollow  cane,  whilst  that  of 
the  female  calling  the  young,  is  ma  Tua,  pronounced 
very  shortly.  This  is  well  simulated  by  the  native  tribes, 
with  a  stem  of  the  Heracleum  lanatinn,  cut  at  the 
joint,  leaving  six  inches  of  a  tube;  with  this,  aided  by  a 
head  and  horns  of  a  full  grown  buck,  which  the  hunter 
carries  with  him  as  a  decoy,  and  which  he  moves  back- 
wards and  forwards  among  the  long  grass,  alternately 
feigning  the  voice  with  the  tube;  the  unsuspecting  animal 
is  attracted  within  a  few  yards,  in  the  hope  of  finding  its 
partner,  when,  instantly  springing  up,  the  hunter  plants  an 
arrow  in  his  object* 

They  are  also  shot  by  cautiously  approaching  them 
against  the  wind,  the  extreme  acuteness  of  their  smell 
enabling  them  to  detect  the  approach  of  any  one,  in  the 
opposite  direction,  even  at  very  great  distances.  Hunters 
have  also  taken  advantage  of  the  extreme  predilection  of 
these  animals  for  salt,  and  destroyed  great  numbers  from 
coverts  established  in  the  vicinity  of  natural  or  artificial 
salines,  or  licks.  An  old  hunter,  in  this  State,  has  informed 
us  that  he  killed  thirty  Deer  in  one  season  by  this  means. 
Many  are  also  shot  by  taking  advantage  of  their  custom 
of  resorting  to  the  water  side,  at  certain  times  of  the  day. 
The  Indians,  according  to  Catesby,  were  also  in  the  habit 
of  encompassing  a  vast  space  of  country,  and  driving  the 
animals  in  to  some  strait  or  peninsula,  where  they  became 
an  easy  prey. 

Notwithstanding  the  natural  timidity  of  Deer,  they  will 
fight  desperatel)^,  when  wounded,  or  brought  to  bay.  In 
this  state  they  not  only  use  their  horns,  but  also  inflict 
severe  and  oftentimes  fatal  wounds  by  leaping  upwards  and 
striking  the  hunter,  on  their  descent,  with  the  sharp  edges 
of  their  hoofs.  These  wounds  were  formerly  considered 
as  peculiarly  dangerous,  particularly  at  certain  seasons  of 
the  year:  thus,  it  is  asserted — 

If  thou  be  hurt  with  hart,  it  brings  thee  to  thy  bier, 

But  barber's  hand  will  boar's  hurt  heal,  thereof  thou  nced'st  not  fear. 

Whether  this  verse  be  founded  on  truth  or  fiction,  it  is 
certain,  that  the  task  of  going  in  and  killing  a  wounded 
Deer,  is  always  attended  with  considerable  peril.  W^e  are 
indebted  to  Mr.  Titian  Peale  for  an  account  of  an  adventure 
of  this  kind,  which  occurred  to  himself  whilst  attached  to 
the  Expedition  to  the  Rocky  Mountains.     Messrs.  Peale 

*  Richardson.     Fauna,  bor.  Am. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


and  Dougherty,  (one  of  the  hunters  to  the  expedition,)  being 
in  search  of  Deer  on  Boyer  River,  one  of  the  tributaries 
of  the  Missouri,  discovered  a  fine  buck,  which  was  wounded 
by  the  latter  in  the  shoulder,  the  animal,  however,  still 
being  able  to  run,  was  again  fired  at  by  Mr.  Peale  and 
wounded  in  the  fore  leg  of  the  opposite  side;  even  this  did 
not  wholly  disable  it,  although  it  so  considerably  retarded 
its  progress,  that  they  thought  they  should  be  able  to  run  it 
down  and  then  dispatch  it;  for  the  sake  of  greater  speed 
tliey  laid  down  their  rifles,  and  pursued  it,  armed  only 
with  their  knives.  On  coming  up  with  the  animal,  it  im- 
mediately stood  at  bay,  and  for  a  long  time  frustrated  every 
attempt  to  wound  it.  Mr.  Dougherty  then  determined, 
whilst  Mr.  Peale  engaged  the  attention  of  the  Deer,  to 
throw  himself  under  it,  and  in  this  position  inflict  the  fatal 
stroke.  This  he  attempted,  but  the  infuriated  animal, 
instead  of  leaping  over  him,  as  was  expected,  turned  on 
him,  and  wounded  him  with  its  hoofs,  in  the  manner 
already  spoken  of;  whilst  thus  employed,  however,  Mr. 
Peale  closed  with  it,  and  was  fortunate  enough  to  disable 
it  so  completely,  as  to  rescue  his  companion  from  the  im- 
minent danger  to  which  he  had  so  rashly  exposed  himself. 
Such  was  the  force  with  which  the  animal  struck,  even 
when  thus  severely  wounded,  that  Mr.  Dougherty's 
clothes,  including  a  thick  blanket  coat,  were  completely 
cut  through,  and  a  wound  inflicted  on  his  side. 

The  Common  Deer  is  said  by  our  hunters  to  display 
great  antipathy  to  rattle  snakes,  and  to  destroy  them  by 
leaping  on  them,  and  cutting  them  to  pieces  with  their 
sharp  hoofs;  this  fact,  extraordinary  as  it  may  appear,  is 
too  well  authenticated  to  be  doubted.  Col.  Keatinge,  in  his 
travels  in  Spain,  relates  that  the  European  stag  has  the  same 
antipathy  to  vipers,  and  kills  great  numbers  of  them  in  a 
similar  manner. 

The  Deer  is  sometimes  domesticated,  which  can  be 
readily  done,  when  it  is  taken  young;  it  soon  becomes 
attached  to  its  captor  and  will  learn  to  follow  him  like  a 
dog.  When  they  arrive  at  maturity,  however,  it  is  always 
dangerous  to  approach  the  bucks  during  the  rutting  season, 
as  they  will  then  attack  every  one,  indiscriminately. 

The  flesh  of  the  Common  Deer  is  well  known  to  the 
epicures  of  our  large  cities,  in  the  autumn  and  winter,  at 
which  times  it  is  brought  down  in  considerable  quantities. 
This  animal  also  affords  a  valuable  article  of  commerce,  in 
its  skin,  so  well  known  under  the  name  of  buckskin. 
These  are  in  great  demand,  and  we  can  form  some  com- 
parative ideas  of  the  aggregate  number,  and  great  extension 
of  the  species,  from  the  quantity  brouglit  to  our  markets. 
Pennant  states  that  as  early  as  1764,  25,027  skins  were 
shipped  to  England  from  New  York  and  Philadelphia. 
From  the  number  annually  destroyed,  and  the  rapid  settle- 


ment of  the  country,  they  are  becoming  much  less  common 
than  they  were  a  few  years  since,  although  their  destruction 
during  the  breeding  season  is  prohibited  by  law.  This  may 
preserve  the  race  among  us  for  a  short  time,  but  cannot 
prevent  their  final  extermination.  Kalm  says,  that  an 
Indian,  who  was  living  in  1748,  killed  many  Deer  where 
Philadelphia  now  stands.  The  Indians  prepare  these  skins 
for  their  own  use,  by  scraping  off  the  hair  and  fleshy  mat- 
ter, and  then  smearing  them  with  the  brains  of  the  animal 
until  they  feel  soft  and  spongy,  and  lastly,  suspending 
them  over  a  fire  made  of  rotten  wood  till  they  are  well 
impregnated  with  the  smoke. 


THE  ANT-LION. 

The  observations  of  the  continental  naturalists  have 
made  known  to  us  a  pitfall  constructed  by  an  insect,  the 
details  of  whose  operations  are  exceedingly  curious — we 
refer  to  the  grub  of  the  Ant-lion  [Myrmeleon  formica- 
rius,)  which,  though  marked  by  Dr.  Turton  and  Mr. 
Stewart  as  British,  has  not  (at  least  of  late  years)  been 
found  in  England.  As  it  is  not,  however,  uncommon 
in  France  and  Switzerland,  it  is  probable  it  may  yet  be 
discovered  in  some  spot  hitherto  unexplored,  and  if  so,  it 
will  well  reward  the  search  of  the  curious. 

The  Ant-lion  grub  being  of  a  grey  colour,  and  having 
its  body  composed  of  rings,  is  not  unlike  a  woodlouse 
( Oniscus, )  though  it  is  larger,  more  triangular,  has  only 
six  legs,  and  most  formidable  jaws,  in  form  of  a  reaping- 
hook,  or  a  pair  of  calliper  compasses.  These  jaws,  how- 
ever, are  not  for  masticating,  but  are  perforated  and  tubu- 
lar, for  the  purpose  of  sucking  the  juices  of  ants  upon 
which  it  feeds.  Vallisnieri  was,  therefore,  mistaken,  as 
Reaumur  well  remarks,  when  he  supposed  that  he  had 
discovered  its  mouth.  Its  habits  require  that  it  should  walk 
backwards,  and  this  is  the  only  species  of  locomotion  which 
it  can  perform.  Even  this  sort  of  motion  it  executes  very 
slowly;  and  were  it  not  for  the  ingenuity  of  its  stratagems, 
it  would  fare  but  sparingly,  since  its  chief  food  consists  of 
ants,  whose  activity  and  swiftness  of  foot  would  otherwise 
render  it  impossible  for  it  to  make  a  single  capture.  Nature, 
however,  in  this,  as  in  nearly  every  other  case,  has  given 
a  compensating  power  to  the  individual  animal,  to  balance 
its  privations.  The  Ant-lion  is  slow — but  it  is  extremely 
sagacious; — it  cannot  follow  its  prey,  but  it  can  entrap  it. 

The  snare  which  tlie  grub  of  the  Ant-lion  employs  con- 
sists of  a  funnel-shaped  excavation  formed  in  loose  sand, 
at  the  bottom  of  which  it  lies  in  wait  for  the  ants  that 
chance  to  stumble  over  the  margin,  and  cannot,  from  the 
looseness  of  the  walls,   gain  a  sufficient  footing  to  effect 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY, 


their  escape.  When  the  pitfall  is  intended  to  be  small, 
it  only  thrusts  its  body  backwards  into  the  sand  as  far  as  it 
can,  throwing  out  at  intervals  the  particles  which  fall  in 
upon  it,  till  it  is  rendered  of  the  requisite  depth. 

By  shutting  up  one  of  these  grubs  in  a  box  with  loose 
sand,  it  has  lieen  repeatedly  observed  constructing  its  trap  of 
various  dimensions,  from  one  to  three  inches  in  diameter, 
according  to  circumstances.  When  it  intends  to  make  one 
of  considerable  diameter,  it  proceeds  as  methodically  as  the 
most  skilful  architect  or  engineer  amongst  ourselves.  It 
first  examines  the  nature  of  the  soil,  whether  it  be  suffi- 
ciently dry  and  fine  for  its  purpose,  and  if  so,  it  begins  by 
tracing  out  a  circle,  where  the  mouth  of  its  funnel-trap  is 
intended  to  be.  Having  thus  marked  the  limits  of  its  pit, 
it  proceeds  to  scoop  out  the  interior.  ■  Getting  within  the 
circle,  and  using  one  of  its  legs  as  a  shovel,  it  places  there- 
with a  load  of  sand  on  the  flat  part  of  its  head,  and  it 
throws  the  whole  with  a  jerk  some  inches  beyond  the 
circle.  It  is  worthy  of  remark  that  it  only  uses  one  leg 
in  this  operation — the  one,  namely,  which  is  nearest  the 
centre  of  the  circle.  Were  it  to  employ  the  others  in 
digging  away  the  sand,  it  would  encroach  upon  the  regu- 
larity of  its  plan.  Working  with  great  industry  and 
adroitness  in  the  manner  we  have  just  described,  it  quickly 
makes  the  round  of  its  circle,  and  as  it  works  backwards 
it  soon  arrives  at  the  point  where  it  had  commenced. 
Instead,  however,  of  proceeding  from  this  point  in  the  same 
direction  as  before,  it  wheels  about  and  works  around  in 
the  contrary  direction,  and  in  this  way  it  avoids  throwing 
all  the  fatigue  of  the  labour  on  one  leg,  alternating  them 
every  round  of  the  circle. 

Were  there  nothing  to  scoop  out  but  sand  or  loose  earth, 
the  little  engineer  would  have  only  to  repeat  the  opera- 
tions we  have  described,  till  it  had  completed  the  whole. 
But  it  frequently  happens  in  the  course  of  its  labours, 
sometimes  even  when  they  are  near  a  close,  that  it  will 
meet  with  a  stone  of  some  size  which  would,  if  suffered  to 
remain,  injure  materially  the  perfection  of  its  trap.  But 
such  obstacles  as  this  do  not  prevent  the  insect  from  pro- 
ceeding :  on  the  contrary,  it  redoubles  its  assiduity  to 
remove  the  obstruction,  as  M.  Bonnet  repeatedly  wit- 
nessed. If  the  stone  be  small,  it  can  manage  to  jerk  it 
out  in  the  same  manner  as  the  sand;  but  when  it  is  two 
or  three  times  larger  and  heavier  than  its  own  body,  it 
must  have  recourse  to  other  means  of  removal.  The  larger 
stone  it  usually  leaves  till  the  last,  and  when  it  has  removed 
all  the  sand  which  it  intends,  it  then  proceeds  to  try  what 
it  can  do  with  the  less  manageable  obstacles.  For  this 
purpose,  it  crawls  backwards  to  the  place  where  a  stone 
may  be,  and  thrusting  its  tail  under  it,  is  at  great  pains 
to  get  it  properly  balanced  on  its  back,   by  an  alternate 


motion  of  the  rings  composing  its  body.  When  it  has 
succeeded  in  adjusting  the  stone,  it  crawls  up  the  side  of 
the  pit  with  great  care  and  deposits  its  burden  on  the 
outside  of  the  circle.  Should  the  stone  happen  to  be 
round,  the  balance  can  be  kept  only  with  the  greatest 
difficult}-,  as  it  has  to  travel  with  its  load  upon  a  slope  of 
loose  sand  which  is  ready  to  give  way  at  every  step;  and 
often  when  the  insect  has  carried  it  to  the  very  brink,  it 
rolls  off  its  back  and  tumbles  down  to  the  bottom  of  the 
pit.  This  accident,  so  far  from  discouraging  the  Ant-lion, 
only  stimulates  it  to  more  persevering  efforts.  Bonnet 
observed  it  renew  these  attempts  to  dislodge  a  stone,  five 
or  six  times.  It  is  only  when  it  finds  it  utterly  impossible 
to  succeed,  that  it  abandons  the  design  and  commences 
another  pit  in  a  fresh  situation.  When  it  succeeds  in 
getting  a  stone  beyond  the  line  of  its  circle,  it  is  not  con- 
tented with  letting  it  rest  there;  but  to  prevent  it  from  again 
rolling  in,  it  goes  on  to  push  it  to  a  considerable  distance. 

The  pitfall,  when  finished,  is  usually  about  three  inches 
in  diameter  at  the  top,  about  two  inches  deep,  and  gradually 
contracting  into  a  point  in  the  manner  of  a  cone  or  funnel. 
In  the  bottom  of  this  pit  the  Ant-lion  stations  itself  to 
watch  for  its  prey.  Should  an  ant  or  any  other  insect 
wander  within  the  verge  of  this  funnel,  it  can  scarcely  fail 
to  dislodge  and  roll  down  some  particles  of  sand,  which  will 
give  notice  to  the  Ant-lion  below  to  be  on  the  alert.  In 
order  to  secure  the  prey,  Reaumur,  Bonnet,  and  others 
have  observed  the  ingenious  insect  throw  up  showers  of 
sand  by  jerking  it  from  its  head  in  quick  succession,  till  the 
luckless  ant  is  precipitated  within  reach  of  the  jaws  of  its 
concealed  enemy.  It  feeds  only  on  the  blood  or  juice  of 
insects;  and  as  soon  as  it  has  extracted  these,  it  tosses  the 
dry  carcase  out  of  its  den.  Its  next  care  is  to  mount  the 
sides  of  the  pitfall  and  repair  any  damage  it  may  have 
suffered;  and  when  this  is  accomplished,  it  again  buries 
itself  among  the  sand  at  the  bottom,  leaving  nothing  but  its 
jaws  above  the  surface,  ready  to  seize  the  next  victim. 

When  it  is  about  to  change  into  a  pupa,  it  proceeds  in 
nearly  the  same  manner  as  the  caterpillar  of  the  water- 
betony  moth  ( Cucullia  scrophitlarise).  It  fii'st  builds  a 
case  of  sand,  the  particles  of  which  are  secured  by  threads 
of  silk,  and  then  tapestries  the  whole  with  a  silken  web. 
Within  this  it  undergoes  its  transformation  into  a  pupa,  and 
in  due  time,  it  emerges  in  form  of  a  four-winged  fly, 
closely  resembling  the  dragon-flies  [Libelhdx,)  vulgarly 
and  erroneously  called  horse  stingers. 

The  instance  of  the  Ant-lion  naturally  leads  us  to  con- 
sider the  design  of  the  Author  of  Nature  in  so  nicely 
adjusting,  in  all  animals,  the  means  of  destruction  and  of 
escape.  As  the  larger  quadrupeds  of  prey  are  provided 
with    a   most   ingenious    machinery    for   preying    on    the 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


weaker,   so  are  these  furnished  with  the  most  admirable 
powers  of  evading  their  destroyers.      In  the  economy  of 
insects,  we  constantly  observe,  that  the  means  of  defence, 
not  only  of  the  individual  creatures,  but  of  their  larvae  and 
pupae,  against  the  attacks  of  other  insects,  and  of  birds,  is 
proportioned,   in  the  ingenuity  of  their  arrangements,  to 
the  weakness  of  the  insect  employing  them.    Those  species 
which  multiply  the  quickest  have  the  greatest  number  of 
enemies.     Bradley,   an  English   naturalist,   has  calculated 
that  two  sparrows  carry,  in  the  course  of  a  week,  above 
three  thousand    caterpillars  to   the  young  in  their  nests. 
But  though  this  is,  probably,  much  beyond  the  truth,  it  is 
certain  that  there  is   a  great  and   constant  destruction  of 
individuals  going  forward;  and  yet  the  species  is  never 
destroyed.      In  this  way  a  balance  is  kept  up,  by  which 
one  portion  of  animated  nature  cannot  usurp  the  means  of 
life   and    enjoyment   which  the   world    offers   to    another 
portion.      In  all  matters  relating  to  reproduction.  Nature  is 
prodigal  in  her  arrangements.     Insects  have  more  stages  to 
pass  through  before  they  attain  their  perfect  growth  than 
other  creatures.      The  continuation  of  the  species  is,  there- 
fore, in  many  cases,  provided  for  by  a  much  larger  number 
of  eggs  being  deposited  than  ever  become  fertile.      How 
many  larvte  are  produced,  in  comparison  with  the  number 
which  pass  into  the  pupa  state;  and  how  many  pupEE  perish 
before   tliey   become    perfect    insects!     Every    garden    is 
covered  with  caterpillars;    and  yet   how   few   moths  and 
butterflies,    comparatively,    are    seen,    even    in   the   most 
sunny  season.      Insects  which  lay  few  eggs  are,  commonly, 
most  remarkable  in  their  contrivances  for  their  preserva- 
tion.    The  dangers  to   which  insect  life    is   exposed   are 
manifold;  and  therefore  are  the  contrivances  for  its  preser- 
vation of  the  most  perfect  kind,    and  invariably  adapted 
to  the  peculiar  habits  of  each  tribe.     The  same  wisdom 
determines  the  food  of  every  species  of  insect;  and  thus 
some  are  found  to  delight  in  the  rose-tree,  and  some  in  the 
oak.     Had  it  been  otherwise,  the  balance  of  vegetable  life 
would  not  have  been  preserved.     It  is  for  this  reason  that 
the  contrivances   which   aui  insect  employs  for  obtaining 
its  food  are  curious,  in  proportion  to  the  natural  difficulties 
of  its  structure.      The  Ant-lion  is  carnivorous,  but  he  has 
not  the  quickness  of  the  spider,  nor  can  he  spread  a  net 
over  a  large  surface,  and  issue  from  his  citadel  to  seize  a 
victim  which    he   has   caught  in  his  out  works.      He   is 
therefore  taught  to  dig  a  trap,   where   he    sits,   like  the 
unwieldy  giants  of  fable,  waiting  for  some  feeble  one  to 
cross  his  path.      How  laborious  and  patient  are  his  opera- 
tions— how  uncertain  the  chances  of  success!    Yet  he  never 
shrinks  from  them,  becaase  his  instinct  tells  him  that  by 
these  contrivances  alone  can  he  preserve  his  own  existence, 
and  continue  that  of  his  species. — Lib.  Ent.  Knotvledge. 
C 


BASIN  OF  THE  MISSISSIPPI, 

IN    A    GEOLOGICAL    VIEW. 

The  hydrographical  basin  of  the  Mississippi  displays, 
on  the  grandest  scale,  the  action  of  running  water  on  the 
surface  of  a  vast  continent.      This  magnificent  river  rises 
nearly   in  the  forty-ninth    parallel  of  north  latitude,  and 
flows  to  the  Gulf  of  INIexico  in  the  twenty-ninth — a  course, 
including  its  meanders,  of  nearly  five  thousand  miles.      It 
passes  from  a  cold  arctic  climate,  traverses  the  temperate 
regions,  and  discharges  its  waters  into  the  sea,  in  the  region 
of  the  olive,  the  fig,  and  the  sugar-cane.*    No  river  affords 
a  more  striking  illustration  of  the  law  before  mentioned, 
that  an  augmentation  of  volume  does  not  occasion  a  propor- 
tional increase  of  surface,  nay,  is  even  sometimes  attended 
with  a  narrowing  of  the  channel.     The  Mississippi  is  a 
mile  and  a  half  wide  at  its  junction  with  the  Missouri, 
the  latter  being  half  a  mile  wide;  yet  the  united   waters 
have  only,  from  their  confluence  to  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio, 
a  medial  width  of  about  three  quarters  of  a  mile.     The 
junction  of  the  Ohio  seems  also  to  produce  no  increase,  but 
rather  a  decrease  of  surface.!     The  St.   Francis,  White, 
Arkansas,  and  Red  rivers,  are  also  absorbed  by  the  main 
stream  with  scarcely  any  apparent  increase  of  its  width; 
and,  on  arriving  near  the  sea  at  New  Orleans,  it  is  some- 
what less  than  half  a  mile  wide.      Its  depth  there  is  very 
variable,  the  greatest  at  high  water  being  one  hundred  and 
sixty-eight  feet.     The  mean  rate  at  which  the  whole  body 
of   water    flows,    is    variously    estimated.     According   to 
some,  it  does  not  exceed  one  mile  an  hour.  %     The  alluvial 
plain  of  this  great  river  is  bounded  on  the  east  and  west 
by  great  ranges  of  mountains  stretching  along  their  respec- 
tive oceans.     Below  the  junction  of  the  Ohio,  the  plain  is 
from  thirty  to  fifty  miles  broad,  and  after  that  point  it  goes 
on  increasing  in  width  till  the  expanse  is  perhaps  three 
times  as  great!     On  the  borders  of  this  vast  alluvial  tract 
are  perpendicular  cliffs,   or  "  bluffs,"   as  they  are  called, 
composed  of  limestone  and  other  rocks.     For  a  great  dis- 
tance the  Mississippi  washes  the   eastern    "bluffs;"  and 
below  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio,  never  once  comes  in  contact 
with  the  western.      The  waters  are  thrown  to  the  eastern 
side,  because  all  the  large  tributary  rivers  enter  from  the 
west,  and  have  filled  that  side  of  the  great  valley  with  a 
sloping  mass  of  clay  and  sand.    For  this  reason,  the  eastern 
bluffs  ai-e  continually  undermined,  and  the  Mississippi  is 
slowly  but  incessantly  progressing  eastward.  § 

The  river  traverses  the  plain  in  a  meandering  course, 
describing  immense  and  uniform  curves.     After  sweeping 

*  Flint's  Geography,  vol.  i.  p.  21.  t  Ibid.  p.  140.  J  Darby. 

^  Geograph.  Descrip.  of  the  Stale  of  Louisiana,  by  W.  Darby,  Philadelphia, 
1816.  p.  102. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY, 


round  the  half  of  a  circle,  it  is  precipitated  from  the  point 
in  a  current  diagonally  across  its  own  channel,  to  another 
curve  of  the  same  uniformity  upon  the  opposite  shore. 
These  curves  are  so  regular,  that  the  boatmen  and  Indians 
calculate  distances  by  them.  Opposite  to  each  of  them, 
there  is  always  a  sand-bar,  answering,  in  the  convexity  of 
its  form,  to  the  concavity  of  "the  bend,"  as  it  is  called. 
The  i-iver,  by  continually  wearing  these  curves  deeper, 
returns,  like  many  other  streams  before  described,  on  its 
own  tract,  so  that  a  vessel  in  some  places,  after  sailing  for 
twenty-five  or  thirty  miles,  is  brought  round  again  to 
within  a  mile  of  the  place  whence  it  started.  When  the 
waters  approach  so  near  to  each  other,  it  often  happens  at 
high  floods  that  they  burst  through  the  small  tongue  of 
land;  and,  having  insulated  a  portion,  rush  through  what  is 
called  the  "  cut  off"  with  great  velocity.  At  one  spot 
called  the  "grand  cut  off,"  vessels  now  pass  from  one 
point  to  another  in  half  a  mile,  to  a  distance  which  it  for- 
merly required  twenty  miles  to  reach.  After  the  flood 
season,  when  the  river  subsides  within  its  channel,  it  acts 
^vith  destructive  force  upon  the  alluvial  banks,  softened 
and  diluted  by  the  recent  overflow.  Several  acres  at  a 
time,  thickly  covered  with  wood,  are  precipitated  into  the 
stream;  and  the  islands  formed  by  the  process  before 
described,  lose  large  portions  of  their  outer  circumfer- 
ence. 

Some  years  ago,  when  the  Mississippi  was  regularly 
surveyed,  all  its  islands  were  numbered,  from  the  conflu- 
ence of  the  Missouri  to  the  sea;  but  every  season  makes 
such  revolutions,  not  only  in  the  number  but  in  the  magni- 
tude and  situation  of  these  islands,  that  this  enumeration  is 
now  almost  obsolete.  Sometimes  large  islands  are  entirely 
melted  away — at  other  places  they  have  attached  them- 
selves to  the  main  shore,  or,  which  is  the  more  correct 
statement,  the  interval  has  been  filled  up  by  myriads  of 
logs  cemented  together  by  mud  and  rubbish.  When  the 
Mississippi  and  many  of  its  great  tributaries  overflow  their 
banks,  the  waters,  being  no  longer  borne  down  by  the 
main  current,  and  becoming  impeded  amongst  the  trees 
and  bushes,  deposit  the  sediment  of  mud  and  sand  with 
which  they  are  abundantly  charged.  Islands  arrest  the 
progress  of  floating  trees,  and  they  become  in  this  manner 
reunited  to  the  land;  the  rafts  of  trees,  together  with  mud, 
constituting  at  length  a  solid  mass.  The  coarser  portion 
•subsides  first,  and  the  most  copious  deposition  is  found 
near  the  banks  where  the  soil  is  most  sandy.  Finer  par- 
ticles are  found  at  the  farthest  distances  from  the  river, 
where  an  impalpable  mixture  is  deposited,  forming  a  stiff 
unctuous  black  soil.  Hence  the  alluvions  of  these  rivers 
are  highest  directly  on  the  banks,  and  slope  back  like  a 
natural   "glacis"  towards   the   rocky  cliffs  bounding   the 


great  valley.  The  Mississippi,  therefore,  by  the  continual 
shifting  of  its  course,  sweeps  away,  during  a  gi-eat  portion 
of  the  year,  considerable  tracts  of  alluvium  which  were 
gradually  accumulated  by  the  overflow  of  former  years, 
and  the  matter  now  left  during  the  spring-floods  will  be  at 
some  future  time  removed. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  features  in  this  basin  is  "the 
raft."  The  dimensions  of  this  mass  of  timber  were  given 
by  Darby,  in  1816,  as  ten  miles  in  length,  about  two 
hundred  and  twenty  yards  wide,  and  eight  feet  deep,  the 
whole  of  which  had  accumulated,  in  consequence  of  some 
obstruction,  during  about  thirty-eight  years,  in  an  arm  of 
the  Mississippi  called  the  Atchafalaya,  which  is  supposed 
to  have  been  at  some  past  time  a  channel  of  the  Red  River, 
before  it  intermingled  its  waters  with  the  main  stream. 
This  arm  is  in  a  direct  line  with  the  direction  of  the 
Mississippi,  and  it  catches  a  large  portion  of  the  drift  wood 
annually  brought  down.  The  mass  of  timber  in  the  raft  is 
continually  increasing,  and  the  whole  rises  and  falls  with 
the  water.  Although  floating,  it  is  covered  with  green 
bushes,  like  a  tract  of  solid  land,  and  its  surface  is  enli- 
vened in  the  autumn  by  a  variety  of  beautiful  flowers. 
Notwithstanding  the  astonishing  number  of  cubic  feet  of 
timber  collected  here  in  so  short  a  time,  greater  deposits 
have  been  in  progress  at  the  extremity  of  the  delta  in  the 
Bay  of  Mexico.  Unfortunately  for  the  navigation  of  the 
Mississippi,  some  of  the  largest  trunks,  after  being  cast 
down  from  the  position  on  which  they  grew,  get  their  roots 
entangled  with  the  bottom  of  the  river,  where  they  remain 
anchored,  as  it  were,  in  the  mud.  The  force  of  the  current 
naturally  gives  their  tops  a  tendency  downwards,  and  by 
its  flowing  past,  soon  strips  them  of  their  leaves  and 
branches.  These  fixtures,  called  snags  or  planters,  are 
extremely  dangerous  to  the  steam-vessels  proceeding  up 
the  stream,  in  which  they  lie  like  a  lance  in  rest,  con- 
cealed beneath  the  water,  with  their  sharp  ends  pointed 
directly  against  the  bow  of  vessels  coming  up.  For  the 
most  part  these  formidable  snags  remain  so  still,  that  they 
can  be  detected  only  by  a  slight  ripple  above  them,  not 
perceptible  to  inexperienced  eyes.  Sometimes,  however, 
they  vibrate  up  and  down,  alternately  showing  their  heads 
above  the  surface  and  bathing  them  beneath  it.  So  im- 
minent is  the  danger  caused  by  these  obstructions,  that 
almost  all  the  boats  on  the  Mississippi  are  constructed  on 
a  particular  plan,  to  guard  against  fatal  accidents.  They 
have  at  their  bows,  a  place  called  a  snag-chamber,  and 
confined  only  to  boats  calculated  for  the  navigation  of  this 
river;  the  chamber  is  partitioned  off,  about  fifteen  feet 
from  the  stem,  with  very  stout  planks,  well  caulked,  so 
that  the  remainder  of  the  vessel  is  completely  cut  off  from 
this   room;    and    consequently,   should   a   snag   strike    the 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


vessel  and  perforate  her  bow,  no  further  mischief  accrues, 
than  the  mere  filling  of  this  snag-chamber  with  water. 

The  prodigious  quantity  of  wood  annually  drifted  down 
by  the  Mississippi  and  its  tributaries,  is  a  subject  of  geo- 
logical interest,  not  merely  as  illustrating  the  manner  in 
which  abundance  of  vegetable  matter  becomes,  in  the 
ordinary  course  of  Nature,  imbedded  in  submarine  and 
estuary  deposits,  but  as  attesting  the  constant  destruction  of 
soil  and  transportation  of  matter  to  lower  levels  by  the 
tendency  of  rivers  to  shift  their  courses.  Each  of  these 
trees  must  have  required  many  years,  some  of  them  many 
centuries,  to  attain  their  full  size;  the  soil,  therefore, 
whereon  they  grew,  after  remaining  undisturbed  for  long 
periods,  is  ultimately  torn  up  and  swept  away.  Yet  not- 
withstanding this  incessant  destruction  of  land  and  up- 
rooting of  trees,  the  region  which  yields  this  never-failing 
supply  of  drift  wood  is  densely  clothed  with  noble  forests, 
and  is  almost  unrivalled  in  its  power  of  supporting  animal 
and  vegetable  life. 

Innumerable  herds  of  wild  deer  and  bisons  feed  on  the 
luxuriant  pastures  of  the  plains.  The  jaguar,  the  wolf,  and 
the  fox,  are  amongst  the  beasts  of  prey.  The  waters  teem 
with  alligators  and  tortoises,  and  their  surface  is  covered 
with  millions  of  migratory  water-fowl,  which  perform  their 
annual  voyage  between  the  Canadian  lakes  and  the  shores 
of  the  Mexican  gulf.  The  power  of  man  begins  to  be 
sensibly  felt,  and  the  wilderness  to  be  replaced  by  towns, 
orchards,  and  gardens.  The  gilded  steam-boat,  like  a 
moving  city,  now  stems  the  current  with  a  steady  pace — 
now  shoots  rapidly  down  the  descending  stream  through 
the  solitudes  of  the  forests  and  prairies.  Already  does  the 
flourishing  population  of  the  great  valley  exceed  that  of  the 
thirteen  United  States  when  first  they  declared  their  inde- 
pendence, and  after  a  sanguinary  struggle  were  severed 
from  the  parent  country.  *  Such  is  the  state  of  a  continent 
where  rocks  and  trees  are  hurried  annually,  by  a  thousand 
torrents,  from  the  mountains  to  the  plains,  and  where  sand 
and  finer  matter  are  swept  down  by  a  vast  current  to  the 
sea,  together  with  the  wreck  of  countless  forests  and  the 
bones  of  animals  which  perish  in  the  inundations.  When 
these  materials  reach  tlie  Gulf,  they  do  not  render  the 
waters  unfit  for  aquatic  animals;  but,  on  the  contrary,  the 
ocean  here  swarms  with  life,  as  it  generally  does  where 
the  influx  of  a  great  river  furnishes  a  copious  supply  of 
organic  and  mineral  matter.  Yet  many  geologists,  when 
they  behold  the  spoils  of  the  land  heaped  in  successive 
strata,  and  blended  confusedly  with  the  remains  of  fishes, 
or  interspersed  with  broken  shells  and  corals,  imagine  that 
they  are  viewing  the  signs  of  a  turbulent,  instead  of  a  tran- 

<  *  FliiU's  Geography,  vol.  1. 


quil  and  settled  state  of  the  planet.  The}'  read  in  such 
phenomena  the  proof  of  chaotic  disorder,  and  reiterated 
catastrophes,  instead  of  indications  of  a  surface  as  habitable 
as  the  most  delicious  and  fertile  districts  now  tenanted  by 
man.  They  are  not  content  with  disregarding  the  analogy 
of  the  present  course  of  Nature,  when  they  speculate  on 
the  revolutions  of  past  times,  but  they  often  draw  con- 
clusions concerning  the  former  state  of  things  directly  the 
reverse  of  those  to  which  a  fair  induction  of  facts  would 
infallibly  lead  them. 

There  is  another  striking  feature  in  the  basin  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi, illustrative  of  the  changes  now  in  progress,  which 
we  must  not  omit  to  mention — the  formation  by  natural 
causes  of  great  lakes,  and  the  drainage  of  others.  These 
are  especially  frequent  in  the  basin  of  the  Red  River  in 
Louisiana,  where  the  largest  of  them,  called  Bistineau,  is 
more  than  thirty  7niles  long,  and  has  a  medium  depth  of 
irom  fifteen  to  twenty  feet.  In  the  deepest  parts  are  seen 
numerous  cypress-trees,  of  all  sizes,  now  dead,  and  most  of 
them  with  their  tops  broken  by  the  wind,  yet  standing 
erect  under  water.  This  tree  resists  the  action  of  air 
and  water  longer  than  any  other,  and,  if  not  submerged 
throughout  the  whole  year,  will  retain  life  for  an  extraor- 
dinary period.*  Lake  Bistineau,  as  well  as  Black  Lake, 
Cado  Lake,  Spanish  Lake,  Natchitoches  Lake,  and  many 
others,  have  been  formed,  according  to  Darby,  by  the 
gradual  elevation  of  the  bed  of  Red  River,  in  which  the 
alluvial  communications  have  been  so  great  as  to  raise  its 
channel,  and  cause  its  waters,  during  the  flood  season,  to 
flow  up  the  mouths  of  many  tributaries,  and  to  convert 
parts  of  their  courses  into  lakes.  In  the  autumn,  when 
the  level  of  Red  River  is  again  depressed,  the  waters  rush 
back  again,  and  some  lakes  become  grassy  meadows,  with 
streams  meandering  through  them.t  Thus,  there  is  a 
periodical  flux  and  reflux  between  Red  River  and  some 
of  these  basins,  which  are  merely  reservoirs,  alternately 
emptied  and  filled  like  our  tide  estuaries — with  this  difier- 
ence,  that  in  the  one  case  the  land  is  submerged  for 
several  months  continuously,  and,  in  the  other,  twice  in 
every  twenty-four  hours.  It  has  happened,  in  several  cases, 
that  a  bar  has  been  thrown  by  Red  River  across  some 
of  the  openings  of  these  channels,  and  then  the  lakes 
become,  like  Bistineau,  constant  repositories  of  water. 
But  even  in  these  cases,  their  level  is  liable  to  annual 
elevation  and  depression,  because  the  flood,  when  at  its 
height,  passes  over  the  bar ;  just  as,  where  sand-hills  close 

*  Captains  Clarke  and  Lewis  found  a  forest   of  pines  standing  erect  under 
water  in  the  body  of  the  Columbia  River  in  North  America,  which  they  sup- 
posed, from  the  appearance  of  the  trees,  to  have  been  only  submerged  about 
twenty  years.— Vol.  ii.  p.  241. 
t  Darby's  Louisiana,  p.  33. 


12 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY, 


the  entrance  of  an  estuary  on  the  Norfolk  or  Suffolk  coast, 
the  sea,  during  some  high  tide  or  storm,  has  often  breached 
the  barrier  and  inundated  again  the  interior  country. 

The  frequent  fluctuations  in  the  direction  of  river- 
courses,  and  the  activity  exerted  by  running  water  in 
various  parts  of  the  basin  of  the  Mississippi,  are  partly, 
perhaps,  to  be  ascribed  to  the  co-operation  of  subterranean 
movements,  which  alter  from  time  to  time  the  relative 
levels  of  various  parts  of  the  surface.  So  late  as  the  year 
1812,  the  whole  valley,  from  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio  to 
that  of  the  St.  Francis,  including  a  front  of  three  hundred 
miles,  was  convulsed  to  such  a  degree,  as  to  create  new 
islands  in  the  river,  and  lakes  in  the  alluvial  plain,  some 
of  which  were  twenty  miles  in  extent.  We  shall  allude 
to  this  event  when  we  treat  of  earthquakes,  but  may  state 
here  that  they  happened  exactly  at  the  same  time  as  the 
fatal  convulsions  at  Caraccas;  and  the  district  shaken  was 
nearly  five  degrees  of  latitude  farther  removed  from  the 
great  centre  of  volcanic  disturbance,  than  the  basin  of  the 
Red  River,  to  which  we  before  alluded.*  When  coun- 
tries are  liable  to  be  so  extensively  and  permanently 
affected  by  earthquakes,  speculations  concerning  changes 
in  their  hydrographical  features  must  not  be  made  without 
regard  to  the  igneous  as  well  as  the  aqueous  causes  of 
change.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  observe,  that  the  ine- 
qualities produced  even  by  one  shock,  might  render  the 
study  of  the  alluvial  plain  of  the  Mississippi,  at  some  future 
period,  most  perplexing  to  a  geologist  who  should  reason 
on  the  distribution  of  transported  materials,  without  being 
aware  that  the  configuration  of  the  country  had  varied 
materially  during  the  time  when  the  excavating  or  remov- 
ing power  of  the  river  was  greatest.  The  region  convulsed 
in  1812,  of  which  New  Madrid  was  the  centre,  exceeded 
in  length  the  whole  basin  of  the  Thames,  and  the  shocks 
were  connected  with  active  volcanoes  more  distant  from 
New  Madrid  than  are  the  extinct  craters  of  the  Eyfel  or 
of  Auvergne  from  London.  If,  therefore,  during  the  innu- 
merable eruptions  which  formerly  broke  forth  in  succession 
in  the  parts  of  Europe  last  alluded  to,  the  basin  of  the  prin- 
cipal river  of  our  island  was  frequently  agitated,  and  the 
relative  levels  of  its  several  parts  altered  (an  hypothesis  in 
-perfect  accordance  with  modern  analogy),  the  difficulties 
of  some  theorists  might,  perhaps,  be  removed;  and  they 
might  no  longer  feel  themselves  under  the  necessity  of 
resorting  to  catastrophes  out  of  the  ordinary  course  of 
Nature,  when  they  endeavour  to  explain  the  alluvial  phe- 
nomena of  that  district. — Lyell's  Geology. 


*  Darby  mentions  beds  of  marine  shells  on  the  banks  of  Red  River,  which 
cem  to  indicate  that  Lower  Louisiana  is  of  recent  formation  :  its  elevation,  per- 
aps,  above  the  sea,  may  have  been  due  to  tlie  same  series  of  earthquakes  which 
ontittues  to  agitate  equatorial  America. 


THE  WISHTONWISH, 


OR    PRAIRIE    DOG. 


The  name  of  Wishtonwish  has  lately  become  familiar, 
from  a  celebrated  novel,  by  Cooper,  bearing  this  title, 
which  is  the  Indian  name  for  an  animal  described  by  Say, 
in  Long's  Expedition. 

Mr.  Cooper  has  mistaken  the  animal,  and  describes  it 
as  a  bird,  known  by  the  name  of  Whippoorwill.  Say 
remarks,  that  "this  interesting  and  sprightly  little  animal 
has  received  the  absurd -and  inappropriate  name  of  Prairie 
dog,  from  a  fancied  resemblance  of  its  warning  cry  to  the 
hurried  barking  of  a  small  dog.  This  sound  may  be  imi- 
tated with  the  human  voice,  Ijy  the  pronunciation  of  the 
syllable  cheh,  cheh,  cheh,  in  a  sibilated  manner,  and  in 
rapid  succession,  by  propelling  the  breath  between  the  tip 
of  the  tongue  and  the  roof  of  the  mouth. 

As  particular  districts,  of  limited  extent,  are,  in  general, 
occupied  by  the  burrows  of  these  animals,  such  assem- 
blages of  dwellings  are  denominated  Prairie  dog  villages 
by  hunters  and  others  who  wander  in  these  remote  regions. 

These  villages,  like  those  of  man,  differ  widely  in  the 
extent  of  surface  which  they  occupy;  some  are  confined  to 
an  area  of  a  few  acres,  others  are  bounded  by  a  circumfer- 
ence of  many  miles.  Only  one  of  these  villages  occurred 
between  the  Missouri  and  the  Pawnee  towns;  thence  to  the 
Platte  they  were  much  more  numerous. 

The  entrance  to  the  burrow  is  at  the  summit  of  the  little 
mound  of  earth  brought  up  by  the  animal  during  the  pro- 
gress of  the  excavation  below. 

These  mounds  are  sometimes  inconspicuous,  but  gene- 
rally somewhat  elevated  above  the  common  surface,  though 
rarely  to  the  height  of  eighteen  inches.  Their  form  is  that 
of  a  truncated  cone,  on  a  base  of  two  or  tliree  feet,  perfo- 
rated by  a  comparatively  large  hole  or  entrance  at  the 
summit  or  in  the  side.  The  whole  surface,  but  more 
particularly  the  summit,  is  trodden  down  and  compacted, 
like  a  well  worn  pathway.  The  hole  descends  vertically 
to  the  depth  of  one  or  two  feet,  whence  it  continues  in  an 
oblique  direction  downward. 

A  single  burrow  may  have  many  occupants.  We  have 
seen  as  many  as  seven  or  eight  individuals  sitting  upon  one 
mound.  As  they  pass  the  winter  in  a  lethargic  sleep,  they 
lay  up  no  provision  of  food  for  that  season,  but  defend  them- 
selves from  its  rigors  by  accurately  closing  up  the  entrance 
of  the  burrow.  The  further  arrangements  which  the  Prai- 
rie dog  makes  for  its  comfort  and  security  are  worthy  of  at- 
tention. He  constructs  for  himself  a  very  neat  globular  cell 
with  fine  dry  grass,  having  an  aperture  at  top,  large  enough 
to  admit  the  finger,  and  so  compactly  formed  that  it  might 
almost  be  rolled  over  the  floor  without  receiving  injury." 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


RUFFED  GROUS,  OR  PHEASANT. 
TETRAO  UMBELLUS. 

[Plate  II.] 
^irct.   Zool.  p.   301,   No.  179. — Ruffed  Heath-cock,  or 
Grous,  Edw.   248. — La  Gelinote  hujiec  de  Pennsyl- 
vanie,  Briss.  i.  214.— P/.  Enl.  104.— Buff.  ii.  281.— 
Phil.  Trans.  62,  393.— Tubt.  Syst.  454. 

This  is  the  Partridge  of  the  eastern  States,  and  the 
Pheasant  of  Pennsylvania,  and  the  southern  districts.  It 
is  represented  in  the  plate  of  about  one  third  of  its  size; 
and  was  faithfully  copied  from  a  perfect  and  very  beautiful 
specimen  in  the  collection  of  S.  P.  GriflSths,  prepared  by 
T.  R.  Peale. 

This  elegant  species  is  well  known  in  almost  every 
quarter  of  the  United  States,  and  appears  to  inhabit  a  very 
extensive  range  of  countr}'.  It  is  common  at  Moose  fort, 
on  Hudson's  bay,  in  lat  51°;  is  frequent  in  the  upper  parts 
of  Georgia;  very  abundant  in  the  States  of  Kentucky  and 
Indiana;  and  was  found  by  captains  Lewis  and  Clarke  in 
crossing  the  great  range  of  mountains  that  divide  the 
waters  of  the  Columbia  and  Missouri,  more  than  three 
thousand  miles,  by  their  measurement,  from  the  mouth  of 
the  latter.  Its  favourite  places  of  resort  are  high  moun- 
tains, covered  with  the  balsam  pine,  hemlock,  laurel,  and 
such  like  evergreens.  Unlike  the  Pinnated  Grous,  it 
always  prefers  the  woods;  is  seldom  or  never  found  in 
open  plains;  but  loves  the  pine-sheltered  declivities  of 
mountains,  near  streams  of  water.  This  great  difference 
of  disposition  in  two  species,  whose  food  seems  to  be 
nearly  the  same,  is  very  extraordinary.  In  those  open 
plains  called  the  barrens  of  Kentucky,  the  Pinnated  Grous 
was  seen  in  great  numbers,  but  none  of  the  Ruffed;  while 
in  the  high  groves  with  which  that  singular  tract  of  coun- 
try is  interspersed,  the  latter,  or  Pheasant,  was  frequently 
met  with;  but  not  a  single  individual  of  the  former. 

The  native  haunts  of  the  Pheasant  being  a  cold,  high, 
mountainous  and  woody  country,  it  is  natural  to  expect 
that  as  we  descend  thence  to  the  sea  shores,  and  the  low, 
flat  and  warm  climate  of  the  southern  States,  these  birds 
should  become  more  rare,  and  such  indeed  is  the  case.  In 
the  lower  parts  of  Carolina,  Georgia,  and  Florida,  they  are 
very  seldom  observed;  but  as  we  advance  inland  to  the 
mountains,  they  again  make  their  appearance.  In  the 
lower  parts  of  New  Jersey  we  indeed  occasionally  meet 
with  them ;  but  this  is  owing  to  the  more  northerly  situa- 
tion of  the  country;  for  even  here  they  are  far  less  numer- 
ous than  among  the  mountains. 

Dr.  Turton,  and  several  other  English  WTiters,  have 
spoken  of  a  Long-tailed  Grous,  said  to  inhabit  the  back 


parts  of  Virginia,  which  can  be  no  other  than  the  present 
species,  there  being,  as  far  as  I  am  acquainted,  only  these 
two,*  the  Ruffed  and  Pinnated  Grous,  found  native  within 
the  United  States. 

The  manners  of  the  Pheasant  are  solitary;  they  are  sel- 
dom found  in  coveys  of  more  than  four  or  five  together, 
and  more  usually  in  pairs  or  singly.  They  leave  their 
sequestered  haunts  in  the  woods  early  in  the  morning,  and 
seek  the  path  or  road,  to  pick  up  gravel,  and  glean  among 
the  droppings  of  the  horses.  In  travelling  among  the 
mountains  that  bound  the  Susquehanna,  I  was  alwaj-s  able 
to  furnish  myself  with  an  abundant  supply  of  these  birds, 
every  morning,  without  leaving  the  path.  If  the  weather 
be  foggy,  or  lowering,  they  are  sure  to  be  seen  in  such 
situations.  They  generally  move  along  with  great  stateli- 
ness,  spreading  their  long  tails  in  a  fan-like  manner.  The 
drumming,  as  it  is  usually  called,  of  the  Pheasant,  is 
another  singularity  of  this  species.  This  is  performed  by 
the  male  alone.  In  walking  through  solitary  woods  fre- 
quented by  these  birds,  a  stranger  is  surprised  by  suddenly 
hearing  a  kind  of  thumping,  very  similar  to  that  produced 
by  striking  two  full-blown  ox-bladders  together,  but  much 
louder;  the  strokes  at  first  are  slow  and  distinct;  but 
graduallj^  increase  in  rapidity  till  they  run  into  each  other, 
resembling  the  rumbling  sound  of  very  distant  thunder, 
dying  away  gradually  on  the  ear.  After  a  few  minutes 
pause,  this  is  again  repeated;  and  in  a  calm  day  may  be 
heard  nearly  half  a  mile  off.  This  drumming  is  most  com- 
mon in  spring,  and  is  the  call  of  the  cock  to  his  favourite 
female.  In  the  early  part  of  the  season,  it  frequently  hap- 
pens that  this  drumming  attracts  the  attention  of  some 
rival  cock,  which  is  led  to  the  spot  from  whence  it  pro- 
ceeds, when  a  most  furious  battle  takes  place  between  them 
as  competitors  for  the  hen,  and  owing  to  the  gameness  of 
these  birds,  it  lasts  for  a  considerable  time;  victory,  how- 
ever, is  generally  on  the  side  of  the  injured  party,  owing 
probably  to  the  greater  degree  of  fierceness  with  which  he 
combats,  in  protection  of  his  favourite,  than  that  exhibited 
by  his  antagonist.  They  fight  keenly,  and  strike  exceeding 
hard  with  their  wings,  alternately  seizing  each  other  with 
their  bills.  This  drumming  is  produced  in  the  following 
manner. — {Vide  Plate  II.)  The  bird,  standing  on  an 
old  prostrate  log,  generally  in  a  retired  and  sheltered 
situation,  lowers  his  wings,  erects  his  expanded  tail,  con- 
tracts his  throat,  elevates  the  two  tufts  of  feathers  on  the 
neck,  and  inflates  his  whole  body,  something  in  the  man- 
ner of  the  turkey  cock,  strutting  and  wheeling  about  with 

*  Since  Wilson's  researches,  four  other  species  have  been  discovered,  viz: 
Dusky  Grous,  Tetrao  Obscurus.  Spoded  Grous,  T.  Canadensis.  Long-tailed 
Grous,  T.  Pliasianellus,  and  Cock  of  the  Plains,  T.  Uropliasianellus. — Syn. 
Birds.  U.  S.  by  C.  L.  Buonaparte. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY, 


great  stateliness.  After  a  few  manoeuvres  of  this  kind,  he 
begins  to  strike  with  his  stiffened  wings  in  short  and  quick 
strokes,  whicli  become  more  and  more  rapid  until  they  run 
into  each  other  as  has  been  already  described.  This  is 
most  common  in  the  morning  and  evening,  though  I  have 
heard  them  drumming  at  all  hours  of  the  day.  By  means 
of  this,  the  gunner  is  led  to  the  place  of  his  retreat;  though 
to  those  unacquainted  with  the  sound,  there  is  great  decep- 
tion in  the  supposed  distance,  it  generally  appearing  to  be 
much  nearer  tlian  it  really  is. 

The  Pheasant  begins  to  pair  in  April,  and  builds  its  nest 
early  in  May.  This  is  placed  on  the  ground  at  the  root  of 
a  bush,  old  log,  or  other  sheltered  and  solitary  situation, 
well  surrounded  with  withered  leaves.  Unlike  that  of  the 
Quail,  it  is  open  above,  and  is  usually  composed  of  dry 
leaves  and  grass.  The  eggs  are  from  nine  to  fifteen  in 
number,  of  a  brownish  white,  without  any  spots,  and 
nearly  as  large  as  those  of  a  pullet.      The  young  leave  the 


With  a  good  dog,  however,  they  are  easily  found;  and 
sometimes  exhibit  a  singular  degree  of  infatuation,  by 
looking  down,  from  the  branches  where  they  sit,  on  the 
dog  below,  who,  the  more  noise  he  keeps  up,  seems  the 
more  to  confuse  and  stupify  them,  so  that  they  may  be  shot 
down,  one  by  one,  till  the  whole  are  killed,  without 
attempting  to  fly  off.  In  such  cases,  those  on  the  lower 
limbs  must  be  taken  first,  for  should  the  upper  ones  be  first 
killed,  in  their  fall  they  alarm  those  below,  who  imme- 
diately fly  off.  This  plan  is  more  usually  followed  by 
persons  residing  amongst  the  mountains,  and  who  are 
unskilled  in  shooting  on  the  wing;  and  the  dogs  employed 
by  them,  are  of  the  springing  spaniel,  or  of  some  small 
breed  addicted  to  much  barking.  But  in  the  lower  coun- 
tries and  by  sportsmen,  the  Pheasant  is  hunted  with  setter 
or  pointer  dogs,  and  is  a  very  difficult  bird  to  shoot  in  con- 
sequence of  its  great  shyness,  as  it  most  commonly  keeps 
in  the  thickest  cover,  and  will  fly  at  the  near  approach  of 


nest  as  soon  as  hatched,  and  are  directed  by  the  cluck  of    the  dog  or  sportsman,  unless  indeed  the  dog  be  particularly 


the  mother,  very  much  in  the  manner  of  the  common  hen. 
On  being  surprised,  she  exhibits  all  the  distress  and  affec- 
tionate manoeuvres  of  the  Quail,  and  of  most  other  birds, 
to  lead  you  away  from  the  spot.  I  once  started  a  hen 
Pheasant,  with  a  single  young  one,  seemingly  only  a  few 
days  old;  there  might  have  been  more,  but  I  observed 
only  this  one.  The  mother  fluttered  before  me  for  a 
moment,  but  suddenly  darting  towards  the  young  one, 
seized  it  in  her  bill,  and  flew  off  along  the  surface  through 
the  woods,  with  great  steadiness  and  rapidity,  till  she  was 
beyond  my  sight,  leaving  me  in  great  surprise  at  the  inci- 
dent. I  made  a  very  close  and  active  search  around  the 
spot  for  the  rest,  but  without  success.  Here  was  a  striking 
instance  of  something  more  than  what  is  termed  blind 
instinct,  in  this  remarkable  deviation  from  her  usual 
manoeuvres,  when  she  has  a  numerous  brood.  It  would 
have  been  impossible  for  me  to  injure  this  affectionate 
mother,  who  had  exhibited  such  an  example  of  presence  of 
mind,  reason,  and  sound  judgment,  as  must  have  convinced 
the  most  bigotted  advocates  of  mere  instinct.  To  carry 
off  a  whole  brood  in  this  manner,  at  once,  would  have  been 
impossible,  and  to  attempt  to  save  one  at  the  expense  of 
the  rest,  would  be  unnatural.  She  therefore  usually  takes 
the  only  possible  mode  of  saving  them  in  that  case,  by  de- 
coying the  person  in  pursuit  of  herself,  by  such  a  natural 
imitation  of  lameness  as  to  impose  on  most  people.  But 
here,  in  the  case  of  a  single  solitary  young  one,  she  in- 
stantly altered  her  plan,  and  adopted  the  most  simple  and 
effectual  mean  for  its  preservation. 

The  Pheasant  generally  springs  within  a  few  yards,  with 
a  loud  whirring  noise,  and  flies  with  great  vigour  through 
the  woods,  beyond  the  reach  of  view,  before  it  alights. 


trained  to  this  kind  of  hunting.  They  are  pretty  hard  to 
kill,  and  will  often  carry  off  a  large  load  to  the  distance  of 
two  hundred  yards,  and  drop  dead.  This  bird,  after  its 
first  or  second  flight,  still  finding  itself  pursued,  often 
resorts  to  stratagem  by  either  taking  shelter  in  the  fork  of 
some  tree,  where  it  will  remain  immoveable,  and  suffer  its 
enemy  to  pass  immediately  under  it,  or  it  will  settle  at  the 
root  of  some  thick  bush  or  tree,  and  remain  so  until  almost 
trodden  upon;  it  will  then  rise,  and  darting  off  behind  this 
intervening  object,  completely  elude  its  pursuer. 

In  deep  snows  they  are  usually  taken  in  traps,  commonly 
dead  traps,  supported  by  a  figure  4  trigger;  at  this  season, 
when  suddenly  alarmed,  they  will  frequently  dive  into  the 
snow,  particularly  when  it  has  newly  fallen,  and  coming 
out  at  a  considerable  distance,  again  take  wing.  Another 
manner  of  catching  these  birds,  is  by  fencing  off  with  dead 
brush-wood  to  the  height  of  three  or  four  feet,  some  nan  ow 
thicket  generally  resorted  to  by  them,  and  leaving  it  im- 
passable except  through  several  holes  placed  at  regular 
distances,  into  which  nooses  made  of  horse-hair  are  sus- 
pended; the  Pheasant,  after  running  along  the  fence,  finds 
no  other  passage,  attempts  to  get  through  these  holes,  and 
is  almost  sure  to  fall  a  victim  to  these  artifices  of  the  country 
boys.  Sometimes  in  the  depth  of  winter  they  approach 
the  farm  house,  and  lurk  near  the  barn,  or  about  the 
garden.  They  have  also  been  often  taken  young  and 
tamed,  so  as  to  associate  with  the  fowls;  and  their  eggs 
have  frequently  been  hatched  under  the  common  hen;  but 
these  rarely  survive  until  full  grown.  They  are  exceed- 
ingly fond  of  the  seeds  of  grapes;  occasionally  eat  ants, 
chesnuts,  black  berries,  and  various  vegetables,  and  in  the 
spring  of  the  year  the  tender  buds  of  the  young 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


15 


Formerly  they  were  numerous  in  the  immediate  vicinity 
of  Philadelphia;  but  as  the  woods  were  cleared,  and  popu- 
lation increased,  they  retreated  to  the  interior.  At  present 
there  are  very  few  to  be  found  within  several  miles  of  the 
city,  and  those  only  singly,  in  the  most  solitaiy  and  retired 
woody  recesses. 

In  the  uninhabited  wilds  of  the  north,  fai-  from  the  per- 
secuting energies  of  its  great  enemy,  man,  this  bird  be- 
comes almost  as  tame  as  the  domestic  fowl,  and  will  seldom 
fly  at  the  approach  of  the  traveller,  but  contents  itself  by 
merely  walking  a  short  distance  from  his  path  to  avoid  him. 
In  the  State  of  Maine,  Mr.  T.  R.  Peale  saw  a  great  num- 
ber, and  experienced  this  fact,  as  they  could  scarcely  be 
made  to  fly;  and  if  chased  would  only  run  but  a  few  yards 
into  the  bushes,  and  then  stop. 

The  Pheasant  is  in  best  order  for  the  table  in  September 
and  October.  At  this  season  they  feed  chiefly  on  whortle- 
berries, and  the  little  red  aromatic  partridge-berries,  the 
last  of  which  gives  their  flesh  a  peculiar  delicate  flavour. 
With  the  former  our  mountains  are  literally  covered  from 
August  to  November;  and  these  constitute  at  that  season 
the  greater  part  of  their  food.  During  the  deep  snows  of 
winter,  they  have  recourse  to  the  buds  of  alder,  and  the 
tender  buds  of  the  laurel.  I  have  frequently  found  their 
crops  distended  with  a  large  handful  of  these  latter  alone; 
and  it  has  been  confidently  asserted,  that  after  having  fed 
for  some  time  on  the  laurel  buds,  their  flesh  becomes  highly 
dangerous  to  eat  of,  partaking  of  the  poisonous  qualities  of 
the  plant.  The  same  has  been  asserted  of  the  flesh  of  the 
deer,  when  in  severe  weather,  and  deep  snows,  they  sub- 
sist on  the  leaves  and  bark  of  the  laurel.  Though  I  have 
myself  eat  freely  of  the  flesh  of  the  Pheasant,  after  empty- 
ing it  of  large  quantities  of  laurel  buds,  without  experi- 
encing any  bad  consequences,  yet,  from  the  respectabilit}'^ 
of  those,  some  of  them  eminent  physicians,  who  have  par- 
ticularized cases  in  which  it  has  proved  deleterious,  and 
even  fatal,  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  in  certain  cases 
where  this  kind  of  food  has  been  long  continued,  and  the 
birds  allowed  to  remain  undrawn  for  several  days,  until 
the  contents  of  the  crop  and  stomach  have  had  time  to 
diffuse  themselves  through  the  flesh,  as  is  too  often  the 
case,  it  may  be  unwholesome,  and  even  dangerous.  Great 
numbers  of  these  birds  are  brought  to  our  markets,  at  all 
times  during  fall  and  winter,  some  of  which  are  brought 
from  a  distance  of  more  than  a  hundred  miles,  and  have 
been  probably  dead  a  week  or  two,  unpicked  and  undrawn, 
before  they  are  purchased  for  the  table.  Regulations,  pro- 
hibiting them  from  being  brought  to  market,  unless  picked 
and  drawn,  would  very  probably  be  a  sufiicient  security 
from  all  danger.  At  these  inclement  seasons,  however, 
they  are  generally  lean  and  dry,  and  indeed  at  all  times 


their  flesh  is  far  inferior  to  that  of  the  Quail,  or  of  the 
Pinnated  Grous.  They  are  usually  sold  in  Philadelphia 
market  at  from  three  quarters  of  a  dollar  to  a  dollar  and  a 
quarter  a  pair,  and  sometimes  higher. 

The  Pheasant  or  Partridge  of  New  England,  is  eighteen 
inches  long,  and  twenty-three  inches  in  extent;  bill  a  horn 
colour,  paler  below;  eye  reddish  hazel,  immediately  above 
which  is  a  small  spot  of  bare  skin  of  a  scarlet  colour; 
crested  head  and  neck  variegated  with  black,  red  brown, 
white  and  pale  brown;  sides  of  the  neck  furnished  with  a 
tuft  of  large  black  feathers,  twenty-nine  or  thirty  in  num- 
ber, which  it  occasionally  raises:  this  tuft  covers  a  large 
space  of  the  neck  destitute  of  feathers;  body  above  a  bright 
rust  colour,  marked  with  oval  spots  of  yellowish  white, 
and  sprinkled  with  black;  wings  plain  olive  brown,  exte- 
riorly edged  with  white,  spotted  with  olive;  the  tail  is 
rounding,  extends  five  inches  beyond  the  tips  of  the  wings, 
is  of  a  bright  reddish  brown,  beautifully  marked  with 
numerous  waving  transverse  bars  of  black,  is  also  crossed 
by  a  broad  band  of  black  within  half  an  inch  of  the  tip, 
which  is  bluish  white,  thickly  sprinkled  and  speckled  with 
black;  body  below  white,  marked  with  large  blotches  of 
pale  brown;  the  legs  are  covered  half  way  to  the  feet  with 
hairy  down,  of  a  brownish  white  colour;  legs  and  feet  pale 
ash;  toes  pectinated  along  the  sides,  the  two  exterior  ones 
joined  at  the  base  as  far  as  the  first  joint  by  a  membrane; 
vent  yellowish  rust  colour. 

The  female  and  young  birds  differ  in  having  the  ruff  or 
tufts  of  feathers  on  the  neck  of  a  dark  brown  colour,  as 
well  as  the  bar  of  black  on  the  tail  inclining  much  to  the 
same  tint. 


HUNTING  SPIDERS. 

There  is  a  tribe  of  hunting  Spiders  that  leap  like 
tigers  on  their  prey,  and,  what  is  more  extraordinary,  have 
the  faculty  of  doing  so  sideways.  One  of  these  jumped 
two  feet  on  a  humble-bee.  They  approach  the  object  of 
their  intended  attack  with  the  noiseless  and  imperceptible 
motion  of  the  shadow  of  a  sun-dial.  If  the  fly  move,  the 
Spider  moves  also,  backwards,  forwards,  or  sideways, 
and  that  with  so  much  precision  as  to  time  and  distance, 
that  the  two  insects  appear  as  if  bound  together  by  some 
invisible  chain,  or  actuated  by  the  same  spirit.  If  the  fly 
take  wing  and  pitch  behind  the  Spider,  the  head  of  the  lat- 
ter is  turned  round  to  meet  it  so  quickly  that  the  human  eye 
is  deceived,  and  the  Spider  appears  to  be  motionless. 
When  all  these  manoeuvres  bring  the  fly  within  its  springs, 
the  leap  is  made  with  fearful  rapidity,  and  the  pre}'  struck 
down  like  lightning.  The  redeeming  trait  in  the  history  of 
these  cruel  creatures  is  affection  for  their  yoMng.—Fam.Lib. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY, 


"  By  various  sports, 
O'er  hills,  through  vallies  and  by  river's  brink, 
Is  life  both  sweeten'd  and  prolong'd." 


THE  USEFULNESS  OF  SPORTING. 

It  has  often  been  said,  that  the  benefit  from  any  exer- 
cise depended  very  much  upon  the  immediate  effect  on  the 
mind  and  feelings,  and  that  those  amusements  were  conse- 
quently the  most  useful,  that  produced  the  greatest  portion 
of  gaiety  and  hope. 

Of  all  the  active  relaxations  that  can  be  enjoyed,  few 
rank  in  the  production  of  these  charms  of  life,  with  the 
various  modifications  of  sporting. 

Independent  of  the  simple  exercise  which  can  be  prac- 
tised in  other  modes,  the  mind  and  heart  become  so  inter- 
ested that  few  of  the  ills  of  life  can  "bear  with  heavy 
hand"  on  the  enthusiastic  railer,  or  the  industrious  hunter 
of  the  woods.  He  forgets  in  the  all-absorbing  excitement, 
the  pains  of  body  or  of  mind  diseased;  throws  aside  the 
pressure  of  care,  and  loses  in  the  thrilling  luxury  of  the 
moment,  the  recollection  of  distresses  that  had  almost  borne 
him  to  the  earth.  Men  who  are  fond  of  these  amusements, 
are  enabled  by  the  simple  exhileration  of  mind,  to  pass 
through  exposure  and  fatigue,  that  in  more  dispassionate 
moments  would  have  produced  overwhelming  exhaustion 
and  disease,  and  in  the  infatuating  enjoyment  of  successful 
sport,  we  feel  transported  to  a  state  of  bliss,  the  recollection 
of  which 

"Will  well  repay, 
For  many  a  long,  cold  night  and  weary  day." 

To  a  sportsman  the  sight  or  sound  of  a  gun,  of  a  hunting 
dog  or  game  bird,  has  music  in  them  that  will  reach  his 
very  heart,  and  recall 

"  Many  a  pleasure  of  days  gone  by," 

and  even  in  the  "  sear  and  yellow  leaf  of  existence,"  I  have 
seen  the  remembrance  of  field-delights  long  since  faded  in 
the  vista  of  years,  recall  a  rejuvenescence  of  feelings  that 
seemed  to  rob  life  of  its  tedium,  and  age  of  its  feebleness. 

Of  the  advantages  of  sporting  to  the  health,  too  much 
cannot  be  said.  Whether  confined  to  the  diminutive  cir- 
cumference of  a  boat,  or  roaming  the  wide,  wild  range  of 
mountain  forest,  the  immediate  effects  are  immense.  The 
circulation  of  the  blood  is  increased  and  regulated,  nervous 
derangements  corrected,  digestion  improved,  muscular 
pain  and  debility  destroyed,  and  even  some  of  the  alarming 
complaints  of  the  lungs  more  certainly  removed,  than  by 
all  tlie  nostrums   that  ever   emanated    from   a   "  licensed 


murderer."  Many  astonishing  cures  have  been  made  by 
that  most  effective  of  all  surgical  instruments,  the  gun; 
and  the  fishing  pole  and  box  of  worms  have  cheated  death 
of  more  victims  than  the  pestal  and  pill  boxes  of  half  the 
apothecaries.  This  I  have  often  seen  exemplified  in  cases 
that  had  long  been  targets  for  medical  archery,  and  would 
still  live  in  spite  of  the  doctors;  when,  after  every  regular 
means  had  been  used  to  "kill  or  cure"  in  vain,  the  patient 
has  turned  tail  on  the  quackeries  of  science,  and  fled  to 
the  more  grateful  medicaments  of  country  air  and  sylvan 
music,  and  instead  of  being  cajoled  into  vain  hope  by 
bread  pills,  or  frightened  to  death  by  long  bills,  he  is 
consoled  into  certain  health  by  administering  lead  pills, 
and  charmed  into  a  long  life  by  being  at  the  death  of 
many  a  bill  far  more  agreeable  to  the  sight. 

Even  some  of  the  very  serious  complaints  of  the  lungs, 
as  discharges  of  blood,  I  have  known  entirely  removed 
by  these  means;  and  in  one  gentleman  of  this  city,  the 
fatiguing  amusement  of  partridge  shooting,  was  his  only 
effective  remedy  when  the  blood  would  appear  at  every 
cough.  A  physician  of  respectability,  "who  would  infal- 
libly have  consumption  if  he  in  the  least  exposed  himself," 
according  to  the  omniscient  opinion  of  one  of  these  retail- 
ers of  health,  was  perfectly  cured  of  all  his  ailments  by  the 
rugged  labours  of  a  sportsman. 

I  have  known  cases  of  rheumatism,  where  the  patient 
could  with  difficulty  bring  the  gun  to  his  shoulder  in  the 
beginning,  entirely  relieved  in  a  few  days.  Diseases  of 
the  spine  and  painful  affections  of  the  head,  if  unattended 
by  much  fever,  are  almost  invariably  assisted  by  this  recre- 
ation. Neither  need  the  invalid  fear  from  the  exposure, 
though  violent  exertion  should  be  avoided  in  the  com- 
mencement, for  the  excitement  of  mind  keeps  up  an  arti- 
ficial warmth  within,  that  seems  to  neutralize  the  cold 
without,  and  the  muscles  soon  become  so  accustomed  to 
the  labour,  that  they  are  strengthened,  and  the  nerves  im- 
mediately invigorated.  For  dyspeptics,  this  remedy  far 
surpasses  all  the  humbugs  of  quacks,  or  scientific  nonsense 
of  the  "  regular  bred,"  as  being  far  more  permanently  use- 
ful, as  well  as  more  agreeable  in  the  dose,  than  bran 
bread  and  black  tea,  with  abundance  of  apothecary  stuff; 
or  having  a  loaf  of  bread  made  out  of  your  abdomen  by 
the  New  York  system  of  kneading. 

I  would  not  in  the  most  distant  manner  insinuate,  that  a 
regular  system  of  medical  practice  is  not  eminently  useful 
in  all  these  diseases  at  a  particular  stage,  for  by  thus  doing, 
my  own  personal  interest  might  be  deeply  outraged;  but 
there  is  a  time  in  all  cases,  when  the  doctor  becomes  a 
nuisance  and  the  apothecary  a  bore;  and  if  physicians 
would  but  choose  to  learn  the  moment  when  their  kind- 
nesses really  ceased  to  be  required,  and  show  less  interest 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


in  a  continuance  of  their  visits,  I  believe  the  siitn  of  con- 
finement to  the  sick  room,  as  well  as  the  amount  of  medi- 
cal expenditures,  would  be  materially  diminished. 

So  soon  as  the  inflammatory  stage  has  passed  by,  and 
that  weak,  irritable  state  of  the  system  which  follows 
almost  every  case,  comes  on,  then  is  the  time  to  forsake 
the  "charms  of  medicine"  and  the  luxury  of  the  doctor's 
presence,  and  seek  in  fresh  air  and  exercise  that  invigo- 
rating principle  of  health,  that  would  be  in  the  confined 
chamber  like  the  mirage  of  the  desert, 

"  A  splendid  phantom, 
The  child  of  Hope,  but  leading  to  despair." 

If  citizens  who  are  closely  confined  for  most  part  of  the 
day,  instead  of  contenting  themselves  with  a  quiet  ride 
on  horseback,  would  "shoulder  their  gun  and  march 
away"  occasionally,  even  for  a  few  hours,  it  would  pro- 
duce a  renovation  of  strength  as  well  as  spirits  for  business, 
that  would  counterbalance,  even  in  its  pecuniary  results, 
for  all  their  abstraction  from  the  cares  of  life,  and  the  addi- 
tion to  their  stock  of  health}^,  pleasant  bodily  feelings 
would  contribute  vastly  to  the  aggregate  of  their  earthly 
happiness. 

Many  persons  are  deteiTed  from  exposure  to  the  air  and 
moisture  of  swamps  and  marshes,  from  a  fear  of  fevers.  It 
has  long  been  known  to  physicians,  that  certain  causes  will 
produce  disease,  when  acting  on  a  system  enfeebled  by 
fatigue  and  abstinence,  that  would  have  passed  innocuous 
under  other  circumstances;  and  it  is  also  well  ascertained, 
that  the  immediate  effect  of  this  debility  is  in  the  stomach. 
The  stomach  is  also  supposed  the  organ  that  is  operated  on 
by  causes  that  produce  fever,  and  hence  the  medical  pro- 
verb, that  the  stomach  is  like  a  schoolboy,  when  unem- 
ployed it  is  generally  in  mischief  Here  then,  is  the 
great  charm,  of  avoiding  disease  from  exposure,  keep  the 
stomach  busy,  not  by  stimuli,  for  the  debility  is  thus 
increased,  but  hy  food  slightly  stimulating,  as  gingerbread, 
&c.  The  writer  of  this  article,  has  had  the  benefit  of 
some  personal  experieace  on  this  subject,  as  well  as  exten- 
sive observation  in  others,  and  he  is  well  assured  that  few 
of  the  fevers  and  colds  that  follow  exposure,  would  occur, 
if  care  was  taken  to  keep  this  great  centre  of  the  system 
well  occupied. 

Persons  starting  on  an  expedition  for  sporting,  often 
leave  home  in  a  hurry,  and  without  laying  in  a  sufficient 
stock  of  provender,  and  hence,  hunt  for  hours  on  an 
empty  stomach.  Such  persons  soon  fail  in  their  exertions, 
and  return  home  with  headach,  nausea  and  exhaustion, 
and  in  many  instances  with  the  seeds  of  maladies  that 
"ripen  unto  death." 

All  the  pleasures  of  this  world,  may  be  made  with 
E 


proper  precaution,  useful  to  our  being,  and  become  by 
abuse,  curses  to  our  very  nature;  and  in  the  high  and 
mighty  pleasure  now  before  us,  whether  in  the  mild,  sub- 
dued and  feminine  search  after 


"  The  glis 


of  the  watery  world," 


or  in  the  noble  and  gentlemanly  enjoyment  of  the  "  detona- 
ting sport,"  the  effects  are  unrivalled  in  the  production  of 
that  happy  state  of  mind  and  healthy  condition  of  body, 
that  can  alone  give  melody  to  life  and  make  us  realize  in 
this  world 

"  All  the  luxury  of  a  Poet's  dream.' 


THE  CHOICE  OF  GUNS, 

ADAPTED    FOR    COMMON    FIELD    AMUSEMENTS. 

Observations  on  the  choice  of  Guns  best  adapted 
for  sporting  purposes,  and  remarks  relative  to  their  manu- 
facture, by  an  old  sportsman,  well  acquainted  with  the 
amusements  of  the  field,  and  the  work  shops  of  Europe. 

On  the  choice  of  Guns. — The  quality  of  a  Gun  depends 
on  a  variety  of  circumstances,  and  perfection  in  all  the 
parts  is  seldom  to  be  found,  but  as  the  barrels  are  of  the 
greatest  consequence,  we  shall  treat  of  them  first.  The 
size  of  the  calibre,  and  the  length  must  depend  on  the 
game  it  is  chiefly  intended  for.  From  two  feet  six,  to  two 
feet  eight  inches  in  length,  with  a  calibre  of  eleven  six- 
teenths or  three  quarters  of  an  inch,  is  the  size  best  adapted 
for  grous,  pheasants,  rabbits,  quails,  and  all  such  game  as 
may  be  conveniently  bagged,  the  weight  should  be  from 
seven  to  eight  pounds.  If  it  be  heavier  it  cannot  be  car- 
ried conveniently,  nor  the  sportsman  so  well  prepared  for 
the  contingencies  of  hunting,  and  consequently,  game 
which  rises  unexpectedly  generally  escapes  before  the  Gun 
can  be  brought  to  bear  on  it,  especially  in  cover,  of  which 
the  pheasant  and  several  other  species  of  game  instinctively 
avail  themselves,  frequently  rising  behind  a  tree  or  bush 
and  then  fly  off  in  a  direct  line,  and  thus  elude  the  keenest 
sportsman.  The  author  of  this  essay  had  long  entertained 
the  belief,  that  a  Gun  of  weight  and  capacity,  was  the  best 
calculated  to  insure  a  well  filled  bag,  but  a  few  years  of 
experience  convinced  him  of  the  error  of  his  opinions. 
He  made  experiments  alternately  with  light  and  heavy 
Guns  and  compared  the  amount  of  game  killed  with  each, 
and  always  found  that  he  was  most  successful  with  the 
lightest  Gun,  and  accounts  for  it  as  follows.  The  heavy 
Gun  was  carried  on  his  shoulder  or  in  some  other  resting 
position,  more  than  half  of  the  day,  not  at  all  convenient 


18 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY, 


for  a  snap'*  shot,  while  the  lighter  Gun  was  carried  before 
him  constantly,  with  his  left  hand  under  the  barrel,  and 
his  right  on  the  checquer  of  the  stock,  so  that  he  was  pre- 
pared to  take  advantage  of  every  bird,  or  other  object  which 
rose  unexpectedly  before  him.  The  barrels  should  always 
be  made  of  the  finest  twisted  nails,  taken  from  the  feet  or 
old  shoes  of  horses,  which  are  wrought  in  bars;  they  are 
collected  by  the  apprentice  boys  of  blacksmiths,  through- 
out England,  and  carefully  treasured  up  until  the  Bir- 
mingham trader  makes  his  periodical  visit,  not  for  the  sole 
purpose  of  buying  these  nails,  but  for  obtaining  orders; 
and  having  settled  his  business  with  the  master,  he  applies 
to  the  boys,  and  inquires  how  many^i'e*  they  have  to  dis- 
pose of.  These  pies  are  bunches  of  nails  enclosed  in  a 
small  ring  of  iron,  of  about  three  or  four  inches  in  diameter, 
and  for  which  the  trader  generally  pays  at  the  rate  of  from 
ten  to  twelve  cents  per  pound,  and  is  the  apprentices  per- 
quisite. This  article,  properly  prepared,  constitutes  the 
strongest  and  best  material  known  in  the  trade  for  Gun 
barrels,  excepting  the  Damascus  iron,  prepared  from  old 
Damascus  sword  blades. 

The  real  twisted  stub  barrels,  as  they  are  called,  are 
generally  confined  to  the  London  market,  and  sell  very 
liigh.  Those  Guns  which  find  their  way  into  this  country, 
are  only  imitations  of  the  London  article,  but  being  pre- 
pared from  well  wrought  iron,  they  so  closely  resemble 
the  former  article,  as  to  defy  detection  except  by  the  most 
skilful  connoisseurs;  and  indeed  the  imitation  has  some- 
what the  advantage  in  its  general  appearance,  over  the  real 
article,  as  it  respects  its  beauty,  for  being  welded  with  thin 
alternate  bars  of  very  soft  iron,  the  browning  acid  acts  with 
greater  rapidity  and  throws  out  a  more  distinct  figure  of 
the  twist.  But  in  making  choice  of  a  Gun,  the  barrel 
should  be  carefully  examined,  and  if  any  rotten  weldings, 
called  greys  by  the  workmen,  should  appear  on  them,  or 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  breech,  such  barrels  should  be 
rejected ;  for  although  they  may  have  withstood  the  proof 
charge,  insisted  on  by  an  act  of  parliament,  which  is  truly 
severe,  they  will  not  long  resist  the  repeated  insinuations  of 
the  saltpetre  occasioned  by  numerous  discharges,  and  is 
continually  acting  within  the  blemish,  until  sooner  or  later 
it  will  burst  the  Gun.  These  greys  exist  more  or  less  in 
all  twisted  barrels,  but  least  in  the  Damascus,  on  which 
account  the  latter  are  preferred,  by  many  persons,  to 
all  others.  The  next  in  reputation  are  those  which  are 
termed  the  wire  twist,  and  are  known  by  their  regular  and 
formal  lines,  and  are  said  to  stand  a  very  high  proof 
charge.  But  it  is  of  little  importance  to  the  sportsman, 
whether  the  barrels  are  made  of  twisted  nails,  Damascus 

*  A  snap  shot  is  that,  when  a  Gun  is  brought  to  bear  immediately  on  the  object, 
»l  the  moment  it  rests  against  the  shoulder,  and  Bred  at  the  same  instant. 


blades,  or  wire,  unless  indeed  they  are  sound  and  perfect 
of  their  kind.  The  next  quality  requisite  in  the  barrel,  is 
a  smooth  cylindrical  calibre,  free  from  what  is  called  ring- 
bore;  and  the  breech  (the  patent  breech)  should  be  at  its 
entrance  a  continuation  of  the  calibre,  without  a  shoulder 
or  set-off,  which  is  very  seldom  the  case  with  the  factors, 
or  what  is  called  the  export  guns.  As  an  article  of  trade, 
the  London  Guns  are  too  high  for  the  American  market, 
ranging  in  price  from  two  hundred,  to  three  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars.  Sales  of  this  article  are  chiefly  effected  in 
England,  France,  and  the  East  Indies. 

The  common  mode  of  tapping  the  barrels  to  receive  the 
patent  breech,  is  to  cut  the  thread  of  the  screw  at  once,  in 
the  best  London  mode;  it  is  a  rule  to  cut  out  about  one 
fourth,  or  one  third  of  the  thickness  of  the  barrels,  before 
entering  the  tap,  so  as  to  admit  the  breech  being  cupped 
the  full  size  of  the  calibre;  such  Guns  shoot  much  stronger, 
and  place  their  shot  more  regular,  whilst  those  Guns  which 
are  less  perfect  in  this  particular,  throw  their  shot  in  clus- 
ters, and  in  some  instances  in  such  masses  as  to  resemble 
bullets,  which  are  serious  defects,  existing  more  or  less  in 
all  Guns  in  proportion  to  the  shoulder  or  set-off  of  the 
breech,  and  may  be  explained  in  the  following  manner: 
The  first  pressure  or  effect  of  the  powder,  is  on  the  centre 
of  the  shot,  which  is  started  some  distance  before  it  can 
act  on  the  whole  charge;  consequently,  the  shot  on  the 
sides  of  the  barrels  becomes  jammed,  and  from  the  great 
pressure  of  the  centre  shot,  is  united  in  masses  of  lead; 
and  another  consequent  evil  is,  that  the  Gun  becomes  so 
foul,  as  to  endanger  the  safety  of  the  shooter,  and  is  one  of 
the  principal  causes  why  so  many  accidents  occur,  espe- 
cially among  the  French  and  German  Guns  of  the  cheaper 
kind,  with  which  the  American  market  is  glutted,  and 
which  the  wise  sportsman  will  scrupulously  avoid.  These 
remarks,  however,  are  not  intended  to  apply  to  the  French 
or  German  Guns  of  the  better  kind,  and  of  which  we  shall 
treat  in  some  future  remarks. 

In  choosing  a  Gun,  attention  should  be  paid  to  the  lock, 
the  cock  of  which  should  rise  from  its  resting  place,  the 
nipple,  perfectly  free,  and  rather  light,  with  a  regular  and 
even  purchase  until  it  comes  to  the  full  bent,  or  cock;  the 
sear  or  dog,  telling  in  the  tumbler  two  sharp  and  distinct 
strokes,  clear  and  with  a  sort  of  ringing  sound,  which  is 
the  best  criterion  for  persons  not  skilled  in  mechanics, 
although  these  qualities  are  sometimes  found  in  very  bad 
and  unsafe  locks.  When  the  cock  is  drawn  back  to  its 
greatest  extent,  the  main  spring  should  be  perfectly 
straight,  and  when  let  down  again,  possessing  a  gentle 
curve;  the  spring  should  not  be  too  strong,  but  very  lively, 
and  free  from  friction.  The  other  materials  should  be 
made  of  steel,  in  place  of  case  hardened  iron,  and  consider- 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


My  freed,  the  back  action  is  considered  preferable,  in  con- 
sequence of  its  remaining  clean  considerably  longer  than 
any  other  kind. 

The  stock  should  be  sound  and  free  from  shakes  or 
cracks,  and  the  grain  of  the  wood  should  run  exactly  with 
the  bend  at  the  breech,  and  the  next  important  consideration, 
and  on  which  the  sportsman's  chance  of  success  greatly 
depends,  is  the  length  from  the  trigger  to  the  heel-plate. 
This  should  be  proportioned  to  the  person  and  to  the 
length  of  his  arms;  should  his  neck  be  long,  the  stock  will 
require  to  be  more  crooked  than  for  a  shorter  person — 
much  depends  on  this  for  quick  shooting.  The  manner 
tlie  autlior  adopted  to  prove  these  requisites,  was  to  fix  the 
eyes  on  any  given  object,  then  shutting  them,  bring  up  the 
Gun  to  the  shoulder,  and  point  it  direct  at  the  object  to  the 
best  of  his  judgment;  then  opening  his  eyes,  examine  how 
far  the  muzzle  of  the  piece  is  above  or  below  the  object;  if 
above  it,  the  stock  may  be  considered  too  straight,  or  if 
below  it,  too  crooked:  in  this  way  the  hand  generally 
coincides  with  the  judgment,  and  when  a  Gun  is  found 
answering  to  both,  it  will  be  all  important,  particularly  in 
snap-shooting,  where  the  Gun  is  required  to  be  raised  and 
fired  insfanter;  in  which  case,  success  depends  entirely  on 
the  co-operation  of  a  quick  hand,  and  a  corresponding 
judgment;  and  to  answer  this  purpose,  no  Gun  is  so  well 
adapted  as  that  on  the  percussion  principle. 

The  best  shots  seldom  look  along  the  barrels,  but  depend 
entirely  on  the  obedience  of  the  hand  to  the  will.  It  is  so 
with  all  who  shoot  well  in  cover,  because  they  see  no  trees, 
or  if  they  see  them,  such  shots  are  not  baffled  by  inter- 
vening objects,  and  many  a  bird  is  doomed  to  fall  that 
would  assuredly  escape,  where  sight  alone  is  depended  on. 

Some  persons  try  new  Guns  by  firing  them  against  a 
target,  or  fence,  and  commonly  by  the  road  side,  to  the 
great  annoyance  of  those  who  happen  to  pass,  at  the  time. 
This  may  be  a  popular  mode,  but  it  is  certainly  a  very 
indifferent  and  reprehensible  one.  The  principal  object  of 
trying  a  Gun  in  this  way  (as  far  as  the  author's  observations 
have  gone)  is,  to  ascertain  if  the  Gun  will  shoot  close,  and 
is  condemned  or  approved,  according  to  the  number  of 
shot  placed  in  a  given  surface.  But  this  is  fallacious ; 
sometimes  indeed  the  shot  are  examined  with  reference  to 
their  penetrating  the  wood,  but  the  nature  and  condition  of 
the  wood  is  seldom  taken  into  account,  or  the  uniform 
manner  in  which  the  shot  are  planted. 

It  is  not  generally  known  or  believed,  that  a  Gun  may 
shoot  too  close,  even  for  an  expert  shot.  When  used  for 
birds  on  the  wing  there  should  be  a  certain  medium,  and 
to  obtain  this  medium  is  the  great  desideratum. 

At  a  distance  of  from  twenty  to  thirty-five  yards  most 
game  is  killed,  and  may  be  considered  point  blank  for 


small  or  medium  size  shot,  and  an  ounce,  or  one  and  a 
quarter  ounces  of  shot  at  thirty  yards,  will  cover  regularly 
a  disk  twenty-four  inches  in  diameter,  so  as  to  secure 
within  that  range  such  game  as  pheasant,  grous,  partridge, 
rabbit,  snipe,  &c.  In  Europe,  thirty-five  yards  is  the  set- 
tled distance  for  trial,  as  game  is  larger  than  in  America. 
Three-fourths  of  the  game  in  the  United  States  is  killed 
within  the  distance  of  twenty-five  yards,  excepting  deer, 
wild  turkeys,  and  water-fowl,  and  which  require  a  different 
class  of  Gun  from  that  which  we  are  now  treating  of.  The 
author  does  not  mean,  that  a  gun  should  not  be  tried,  on 
making  a  purchase,  but  he  only  objects  to  that  practice  as  a 
standard  or  criterion,  solely  by  which  it  is  or  ought  to  be 
judged;  his  own  experience  has  taught  him  the  following 
manner:  Having  satisfied  himself  of  the  requisites  already 
pointed  out,  he  charges  with  an  ounce  to  an  ounce  a  half  of 
shot,  according  to  the  weight  of  the  Gun,  and  size  of  the 
calibre,  with  as  much  fine  quality  powder  as  would  occupy 
two-thirds  of  the  cubic  bulk  of  the  shot,  and  then  placing 
himself  as  near  as  safety  will  permit,  to  some  object  aimed 
at,  procures  another  person  to  fire  the  gun:  his  motive  in 
this,  is  to  ascertain  the  manner  in  which  the  shot  strikes 
the  board  or  target,  for,  according  to  the  rattling  or  chatter- 
ing of  the  shot  against  this  object,  so  is  the  Gun  condemned 
or  approved.  If  the  shot  comes  up  all  at  once,  with  a  sharp 
stroke  resembling  the  single  blow  of  a  hammer,  he  is  con- 
fident all  is  right  on  that  point,  and  only  approaches  the 
target  to  see  how  the  shot  is  planted,  and  if  satisfied  with 
this,  he  seeks  no  other  mode  of  trial,  but  proceeds  in  search 
of  game,  and  has  never  been  disappointed  in  a  single  in- 
stance, during  a  practice  of  thirty  years  in  the  field,  in 
which  period  he  has  been  the  proprietor  and  vender  of 
some  hundreds  of  Guns. 
October  19,  1830. 


HUNTING  RECOLLECTIONS. 

About  twelve  miles  above  Bangor,  in  Maine,  is  a 
small  island,  inhabited  by  the  Penobscot  tribe  of  Indians; 
they  reside  in  a  village  called  Oldtown,  so  termed  from  a 
tradition  among  them,  that  their  forefathers  dwelt  in  the 
same  spot,  long  before  the  appearance  of  the  first  whites  in 
the  country.  In  the  burying  ground  is  a  large,  moss  grown 
cross,  which  bears  a  date  of  the  beginning  of  the  last  cen- 
tury. These  Indians  are  Catholics,  and  are  peaceable, 
though  dirty  and  lazy.  At  this  place,  in  18 — ,  I  applied 
for  a  guide,  in  a  projected  hunting-expedition  in  the  unset- 
tled part  of  the  country  to  the  N.  W.  of  their  village,  and 
it  was  not  without  difficulty  that  two  young  men  could  be 
induced  to  venture  with  a  white  stranger,  and  they  would 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY, 


not  have  consented,  except  by  a  special  recommendation 

from  their  pastor,  Mr.  B ,  to  whom  I  had  taken  letters. 

This  reluctance  arose  from  the  unprincipled  conduct  of 
most  of  the  whites  towards  them. 

At  last,  however,  Mitchell,  Louis,  and  Joe  Soccous, 
agreed  to  accompany  me  to  a  part  of  the  country  in  which 
I  could  kill  Moose  and  Carabou,  provided  I  understood 
hunting,  as  on  this  point,  they  appeared  to  place  but  little 
faith,  as  I  had  come  from  a  distant  and  thickly  settled 
country  as  well  as  from  a  great  city;  but  above  all,  I  car- 
ried a  double  barrelled  percussion  rifle  with  a  hair  trigger, 
&c.  a  weapon  they  had  never  seen. 

Friday,  October  9,  18 — .  Joined  my  two  guides  on 
the  banks  of  the  river;  they  had  provided  themselves  with 
two  birch  bark  canoes.  I  had  a  white  companion,  Mr. 
H.  who  was  placed  in  the  bow  of  one,  and  I  in  that  of  the 
other,  the  provisions  and  baggage  occupying  the  centre  of 
each.  As  the  Indians  had  to  dance  with  their  friends 
nearly  all  night,  and  hear  mass  before  parting  with  them 
this  morning,  it  was  eleven  o'clock  before  we  set  out  up 
the  river.  It  was  the  first  time  I  ever  was  in  a  birch  bark 
canoe,  and  to  a  novice  a  "  birch"  is  certainly  a  ticklish 
article;  I  was  obliged  to  sit  down  on  the  bottom  and  hold 
myself  as  steady  as  possible,  or  tlie  least  motion  to  one  side 
heeled  the  frail  vessel,  and  it  being  a  natural  effort  to 
throw  oneself  in  the  opposite  direction,  the  evil  was  always 
increased  rather  than  remedied;  while  Joe  who  paddled 
the  boat,  sat  as  firm  and  unconcerned  as  if  he  had  neither 
jacket  or  powder  to  get  wet,  and  was  himself  the  passenger: 
sometimes,  however,  he  exclaimed  "  'spose  um  no  still, 
him  no  paddle  um  canoe;"  but  in  a  few  hours  I  ceased  to 
give  further  trouble,  and  not  only  could  balance  myself, 
but  began  to  paddle.  Our  canoes  were  about  twelve  feet 
long,  and  three  wide  at  midships,  and  will  carry  but  two 


take  care  of  the  camp,  and  enjoy  a  solitary  pipe,  whilst 
listening  to  the  owls  and  journalizing.  The  scenery  during 
the  day  was  romantic,  the  timber  consisting  of  oak,  pop- 
lar, birch,  and  a  very  few  pines;  at  one  time  we  had  a 
distant  view  of  mount  Kitahden,  it  was  covered  with  snow 
and  appeared  about  60  miles  distant. 

Our  first  night  proved  rainy,  and  as  few  people  are  fond 
of  lying  under  wet  bed  clothes,  we  were  off  bright  and 
early,  passed  some  rapids  which  were  very  bad  at  this  low 
stage  of  the  water;  in  one  or  two  places,  the  fall  was  full  a 
foot  perpendicular,  and  yet  the  Indians  poled  up  them  with 
a  facility  truly  astonishing,  as  these  small  birch  canoes  are 
so  light  and  appear  so  frail,  that  no  one  who  had  not  seen 
them  managed  by  an  Indian  would  ever  suppose  that  they 
could  be  conveyed  over  whirling  rapids,  with  the  safety  of 
a  common  boat  in  smooth  water. 

The  river  widened,  and  in  many  places  was  almost  like 
a  lake  filled  with  islands  of  a  fine  rich  soil,  settled  by 
Indians.  We  also  passed  some  good  farms  on  the  main 
land,  belonging  to  white  people;  but  in  general,  the  Indian 
farms  were  quite  as  comfortable  in  appearance  as  the 
whites.  At  noon,  left  the  main  river,  and  entered  the 
Passedunky,  through  a  narrow  channel,  with  scarcely 
room  for  a  canoe  to  pass  amid  a  chaos  of  rocks:  it  soon, 
however,  began  to  widen  to  more  than  one  hundred  yards, 
deep,  and  still,  banks  low,  rich  and  matted,  with  a  variety 
of  timber  and  underwood,  but  heavy  hemlocks  stamped 
the  prominent  character  of  the  scene.  Through  this  still, 
deep  water,  we  paddled  about  five  miles;  then  through 
rapids  and  rocks  a  few  miles  further,  to  such  another  place 
where  we  landed  to  cook  our  dinner  and  mend  one  of  the 
canoes,  which  had  been  damaged  among  the  rocks. 

While  these  operations  were  performing  by  the  Indians, 
H.  and  myself  hunted  for  our  supper,  though  our  game 


persons  and  baggage,  or  six  or  eight  hundred  weight,  and     turned  out  rather  scanty,  as  we 
weigh  about  60  pounds. 

Ascended  several  rapids,  by  means  of  setting  poles,  the 
Indians  standing  up  in  the  stern:  at  noon  we  landed  to 
dine,  but  as  we  did  not  wish  to  lose  time  in  cooking,  made 
our  dinners  on  raw  pork  and  biscuit,  our  drink  being  sugar 
and  water ;  performed  the  necessary  operation  with  an 
Indian  of  smoking  our  pipes,  and  continued  our  journey 
until  night,  when  we  encamped  on  a  woody  island.  We 
had  no  tents,  and  as  there  was  every  appearance  of  rain 
before  morning,  Joe  stretched  his  blanket  on  two  poles, 
as  a  substitute.  A  mallard,  some  partridges  (Pheasants, 
Tetrao  umbellus)  which  I  shot  during  the  day,  supplied 
us  with  an  excellent  supper,  and  made  amends  for  our  sorry 
dinner.  Some  squaws  paid  us  a  visit  in  our  camp,  with  a 
present  of  choke  berries  in  a  neat  little  birch  basket;  my 
comrades  returned  the  visit  in  the  evening,  leaving  me  to 


made  but  indifferent  work 
among  the  pheasants,  and  were  obliged  to  fill  the  deficiency 
with  a  bittern,  which  subsequently  was  displaced  from  that 
honor  by  better  game. 

As  evening  approached,  the  Indians  were  just  begging 
that  I  would  halt  the  next  day,  as  it  was  Sunday,  and  my 
New  England  friend  saying  that  he  was  "  conscientiously 
scrupulous"  about  travelling  on  the  Sabbath,  when  a  fine 
buck  espyed  us  coming  up  the  stream,  but  mistook  us  for 
other  deer,  as  we  all  laid  flat  in  the  bottom  of  our  canoes; 
nothing  could  be  seen  but  the  muzzle  of  my  rifle,  my  eyes 
and  the  Indian's  paddles;  so  completely  was  the  poor 
animal  deceived,  that  he  swam  within  gun-shot  before  he 
discovered  his  mistake;  we  let  him  rise  the  bank  out  of 
the  water  as  he  made  for  the  thicket,  before  I  sent  him  a 
leaden  messenger;  one  of  the  Indians  and  he  entered  the 
thicket  together,  and  nothing  was  heard  for  some  moments 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


21 


but  the  cracking  of  brush,  and  heavy  jumps,  until  the  yell 
of  Mitchell  Louis  proclaimed  victory.  On  coming  up,  we 
found  he  had  seized  the  dying  animal,  and  had  received 
some  tolerably  severe  wounds  in  the  scuflBe,  before  he  could 
use  his  knife.  It  turned  out  one  of  the  largest  bucks  ever 
killed  in  this  part  of  the  country,  and  withal,  exceedingly 
fat.  We  estimated  his  weight  at  near  three  hundred 
pounds,  and  as  we  were  now  overstocked  with  provision, 
the  Indians  availing  themselves  of  my  intention  to  remain 
encamped  on  Sunday,  asked  leave  to  travel  all  night  to 
take  the  meat  to  their  friends,  on  the  river  below,  promis- 
ing to  be  back  on  Sunday  night,  which,  of  course,  was 
granted,  and  they  started,  leaving  us  one  of  the  canoes. 

H.  and  myself  were  now  left  many  miles  from  any 
human  being,  surrounded  by  a  gloomy  hemlock  swamp. 
He  began  collecting  fuel  and  building  a  camp,  while  I 
played  the  part  of  cook.  A  plentiful  supper,  a  social  pipe 
oi  esquepomgole,'*  and  a  quantity  of  hemlock  branches  for 
a  bed,  closed  the  proceedings  of  the  day. 

But  Sunday  did  not  end  so  comfortal)ly ;  we  were  visited 
in  the  morning  by  six  canoe  loads  of  Indians,  they  had 
been  up  the  river  hunting,  but  were  not  very  successful: 
with  them  they  had  the  skins  of  sable  and  moose  ;  of  the 
latter  they  had  killed  four,  but  how,  was  to  me  a  mystery; 
as  their  guns  were  among  the  worst  I  had  ever  seen.  On 
asking  them  what  was  the  greatest  distance  at  which  they 
could  kill  a  moose,  they  pointed  to  a  spot  about  thirty  yards 
distant.  On  receiving  a  present  from  us  of  fresh  venison, 
pork,  and  biscuit,  they  departed.  After  which  we  were 
visited  by  two  white  trappers,  in  a  "  birch;"  they  were  in 
search  principally  of  musquash  (Muskrat,  Fiber  zibethi- 
cus.)  In  the  afternoon  it  began  to  rain,  with  a  strong 
S.  E.  wind;  fixed  our  tent  in  the  best  manner  we  could; 
the  deficiency  of  a  tent  was  again  supplied  by  a  blanket 
spread  on  two  poles,  and  as  we  did  not  expect  it  to  keep  us 
dry,  we  were  not  disappointed,  though  it  saved  us  in  a 
great  measure;  our  baggage  and  provisions  were  stowed 
under  the  canoe,  turned  bottom  up,  among  the  bushes. 

October  12th.  Our  Indian  friends  returned  about  dark, 
having  travelled  all  last  night  and  to  day,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  about  two  hours,  spent  at  breakfast  with  their  wives 
and  sisters.  I  took  a  short  ramble  in  the  woods  back  of  us, 
in  the  afternoon,  through  the  intervals  of  rain,  but  could 
not  penetrate  far,  for  mats  of  dead  and  falling  timber  cover- 
ed with  moss,  in  such  a  manner,  that  it  was  like  groping 
among  huge  masses  of  sponge,  with  a  very  uncertain  foun- 
dation.    Red   squirrels   {Sciurus  Hudsonius)   were   the 

*  Esquepomgole  is  the  Penobscot  and  Passamaquoddy  name  for  the  mixture 
of  tobacco  and  inner  bark  of  red  willow,  (Comiis  alba,)  it  is  smoked  by  almost 
all  the  diflerent  bands  of  North  American  Indians,  but,  of  course,  in  different 
languages,  is  known  under  other  names. 

F 


only  living  creatures  to  be  seen;  they  were  numerous,  and 
form  the  principle  food  of  the  sable,  which  abound  on  the 
higher  grounds;  they  pursue  the  squirrel  from  tree  to  tree, 
with  as  much  activity  as  Mr.  Audibon  describes  the  rattle- 
snakes; (which,  by  the  bye,  is  about  as  great  a  humbug  as 
ever  John  Bull  was  gulled  with. ) 

Heavy  rain  all  night,  but  having  brought  with  me  an  oil 
cloth  coverlid,  six  feet  square,  we  were  kept  tolerably 
dry  under  it,  the  only  inconvenience  was,  that  we  had  col- 
lected scarcely  hemlock  branches  sufficient  to  keep  us  out 
of  the  puddles  beneath;  and  as  it  was  impossible  to  keep 
our  fire,  or  to  light  it  in  the  morning,  we  laid  in  bed  until 
ten  o'clock,  when  the  rain  ceasing,  we  cooked  our  break- 
fasts, loaded  the  canoes,  and  took  leave  of  the  great  buck 
camp;  poled  up  some  very  difficult  rapids,  where  the  fall 
was  more  than  five  feet  in  twenty  yards. 

We  went  eight  miles,  and  about  three  o'clock  arrived  at 
a  saw  mill  and  settlement  of  whites;  had  our  dinners 
cooked  at  one  of  the  houses,  whilst  the  Indians  mended 
the  canoes,  which  had  received  some  damage;  an  operation 
that  is  performed  by  covering  the  cracks  with  a  composi- 
tion of  resin  and  tallow,  while  a  coal  held  over  and  blown 
melts  it,  at  the  particular  places  required. 

The  old  lady  who  cooked  our  dinners,  had  several  fine 
daughters,  who  said  they  were  all  heartily  sick  of  the 
woods,  having  resided  here  five  years  without  any  chances 
for  husbands,  which  may  fairly  be  considered  a  hard  case. 
Made  a  portage  across  the  mill  dam,  and  left  the  last  set- 
tlement on  the  Passedunky,  where  we  left  all  our  superfluous 
baggage.  After  proceeding  some  distance,  came  to  an 
Indian  camp  of  three  fires  (at  each  a  family);  as  it  was  near 
evening,  and  they  being  relatives  of  our  guides,  we  con- 
cluded to  stop  for  the  night;  the  camp  was  on  a  low  flat 
point,  covered  with  huge  hemlocks,  the  dark  shade  of 
which  heightened  the  romantic  effect  of  a  beautiful  moon- 
light night,  whilst  the  fires  and  dark  moving  figures 
enlivened  the  whole.  One  of  the  men  was  quite  commu- 
nicative, and  they  dubbed  him  lawyer;  he  was  very- 
anxious  to  hear  all  the  news  from  me — said  he  had  heard 
of  an  account  in  one  of  the  Canada  papers,  of  an  adjust- 
ment of  the  boundary  line  of  Maine,  and  wanted  to  know 
if  we  had  heard  of  it,  observing  that  all  boundaries  were 
bad  that  did  not  follow  the  courses  of  the  streams:  the 
three  men  are  Passamaquoddys,  and  are  married  to  Penob- 
scot squaws,  who  are  now  on  their  way  to  see  their  rela- 
tives at  Old  Town. 

Tuesday,  I3th.  Passed  several  rapids,  rips,  and  shoots, 
schutes  as  they  are  called  by  the  whites.  Hills  rise  here 
directly  from  the  river,  leaving  no  bottoms,  but  are  of 
slight  elevation,  and  covered  with  heavy  timber;  larch, 
hemlock,   &c.    predominating.     Proceeding  a   few   miles 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY, 


further,  wc  opened  suddenlj'  on  Lake  Paoonook,  and  one 
of  the  most  magnificent  scenes  I  ever  beheld  burst  upon  us: 
the  weather  had  cleared  up  bright  and  calm,  the  lake's 
surface  was  like  a  mirror,  surrounded  with  mountains;  a 
few  clouds  were  skimming  past,  but  leaving  their  summits 
clear  above,  the  shore  was  lined  with  huge  rocks  of  all 
shapes,  and  heavy  timber,  having  all  the  varied  hues  of 
autumn,  and  beautifully  contrasted,  intermixed  with  the  dif- 
ferent kinds  of  evergreens  peculiar  to  northern  regions. 
Not  a  sound  was  heard,  except  the  cackling  of  log  cock 
or  pileated  woodpeckers,  and  now  and  then  the  scream  of 
a  loon.  Indians  and  all  ceased  paddling  to  enjoy  and 
admire. 

Crossed  the  lake  in  nearly  a  north  east  direction;  it  is 
about  nine  miles  in  circumference,  and  very  deep,  abound- 
ing with  fine  fish,  particularly  Pickerel,  some  of  which  we 
tried  to  catch,  but  were  unsuccessful.  Entered  the  mouth 
of  a  small  stream  with  low  bushy  banks,  where  we  were 
led  to  believe  we  should  see  Moose  and  Carabou:  H.  and 
myself  sat  with  our  guns  cocked  for  fear  of  making  the 
least  noise,  whilst  Mitchell  and  Joe,  with  the  stillness  of 
death,  paddled  up  the  serpentine  course  of  the  stream  for 
several  miles,  until  we  came  to  the  mouth  of  another 
stream,  which  we  were  told  was  to  be  the  scene  of  our 
nightly  hunts  for  moose;  accordingly  we  retraced  our  way 
for  some  distance,  so  as  not  to  alarm  the  game  with  our 
axes.  Encamping  about  noon,  we  set  all  our  musquash 
traps,  and  slept  the  remainder  of  the  day.  A  partridge 
[Pheasant)  came  within  six  feet  of  our  fire,  and  seemed 
quite  uncertain  whether  we  were  friends  or  enemies,  but 
as  all  our  venison  was  gone,  I  felt  sorry  to  prove  myself 
amongst  the  latter;  but  so  it  was,  and  the  poor  bird  formed 
part  of  a  fricassee  with  musquash.  Several  moose  birds 
(Corviis  canadensis  of  Wilson)  then  appeared;  they 
would  sit  on  my  coat  as  it  hung  on  a  bush,  peck  at  the  par- 
tridge which  was  already  picked  and  hanging  up,  and  eat 
fat  pork  off  the  kettle,  which  was  placed  a  short  distance 
from  the  fire;  a  few  sleepless  moments  were  emploved  in 
the  amusement  of  trying  to  catch  them  with  fishing  lines, 
but  they  were  too  cunning  to  swallow  the  bait  without  first 
picking  it  from  the  hook.  At  sundown,  made  our  pre- 
parations and  started  to  hunt  moose  by  star  light.  H.  and 
Mitchell  Louis  went  in  one  direction  towards  lake  Paoo- 
nook, whilst  Joe  and  myself  went  up  stream  from  the  lake: 
had  to  make  one  or  two  portages  over  rocky  rapids  in  deep 
hemlock  shade,  which  deprived  us  of  the  little  light  we 
had  received  from  the  stars.  Where  the  stream  was  wider, 
and  more  open  on  getting  again  into  smooth  water,  Joe 
gave  me  my  directions,  as  it  was  my  first  essay  in  this 
kind  of  hunting,  and  required  me  to  be  as  silent  as  possi- 
ble while  he  sent  the  canoe  over  the  dead  water,  like  the 


silent  flight  of  an  owl  in  search  of  its  prey.  The  moose 
repair  at  night  along  the  banks  of  the  stream,  to  feed  on 
the  small  branches  of  ash,  maple,  and  red  willow,  and  con- 
stantly cross  from  one  bank  to  the  other,  so  that  they  are 
as  frequently  found  in  the  water  as  along  the  shores;  the 
Indians  told  me  to  watch  sharply  for  their  dark  forms  in 
the  bushes,  as  well  as  in  the  water,  as  their  dark  colour  is 
particularly  adapted  to  conceal  them  in  the  night;  we 
were  frequently  startled  by  the  repeated  splashes  of 
musquash  and  aquatic  birds.  Joe  often  imitated  the  long 
braying  call  of  the  female,  as  it  is  now  rutting  season,  but 
without  success,  for  we  hunted  until  midnight  without 
seeing  or  hearing  a  single  moose.  When  we  returned, 
found  the  other  canoe  back  before  us  with  no  better  suc- 
cess. Took  the  canoes  on  shore,  turned  them  bottom 
upwards,  and  with  our  heads  beneath  them  by  way  of 
tents,  we  spent  the  rest  of  a  clear  frosty  night. 

Next  day  set  some  sable  traps,  which  are  dead  falls 
made  with  small  logs,  and  then  moved  our  quarters  a  mile 
or  two  up  the  western  branch;  we  undertook  to  hunt  on 
the  hills,  and  I  soon  discovered  the  reason  why  all  the 
hunting  is  done  by  the  Indians  in  canoes,  for  the  whites 
never  hunt  except  in  snow  shoes;  it  is  this,  the  country  is 
crossed  in  every  direction  by  lakes  and  streams,  so  that 
fires  cannot  spread  here  as  they  do  in  almost  every  other 
part  of  our  country,  and  consequently  the  dead  timber 
remains  to  rot,  and  is  further  protected  from  fire  by  vast 
beds  of  moss;  therefore,  the  woods  are  full  of  dead  and 
rotten  timber,  lying  in  confused  masses  among  the  rocks, 
all  of  which  being  covered  with  moss,  a  traveller  in  such 
places  can  never  tell  whether  he  is  on  terra  firma,  or 
mounted  a  considerable  distance  above  it,  on  a  net  work  of 
rotten  logs,  which  every  now  and  then  let  him  down  some 
fifteen  or  twent}'  feet,  without  his  being  able  to  tell  what 
kind  of  wild  beast  may  occupy  the  den  beneath  him. 
Added  to  these  difficulties,  in  other  places  the  heavy  snows 
in  winter  bend  the  long  slender  evergreens  in  the  form 
of  bows,  in  which  position  they  remain  with  their  tops 
near  the  ground;  and  as  tliis  goes  on  successively  each 
winter,  the  evil  is  increased,  until  a  hunter  must  be  as 
agile  as  a  sable  or  panther,  to  get  through  such  spots;  in 
fact,  deer  and  the  larger  game,  except  bear,  are  not  found 
in  such  places. 

At  noon,  Joe  and  myself  again  started  in  one  of  the 
canoes,  up  the  stream  until  dark,  to  hunt  moose  on  our  way 
back  in  the  night,  whilst  H.  and  ISIitchell  Louis  remained 
to  set  musquash  traps,  and  prepare  the  camp  against  our 
return,  which  was  about  ten  o'clock;  saw  plenty  of  moose 
and  carabou  signs  going  up,  but  none  appeared  fresh;  some 
of  the  moose  tracks  were  quite  as  large  as  those  of  oxen. 
We  landed  on  an  extensive  cranberry  bed,  and  in  a  short 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


25 


time  collected  as  many  berries  as  we  could  eat,  and  enough 
for  our  companions  in  camp.  Bear  signs  were  plent_y,  but 
we  would  not  lose  time  in  hunting  them. 

Soon  after  dark,  came  upon  two  deer  which  were  in 
such  thick  bushes  that  we  found  it  difficult,  owing  to  the 
darkness,  to  make  out  their  position,  and  did  not  fire  for 
fear  of  alarming  our  larger  game  :  this  precaution  was, 
however,  unnecessary,  as  in  a  few  minutes  we  heard  the 
heavy  reports  of  two  muskets,  which  we  then  supposed 
were  those  of  our  companions,  but  on  our  return,  to  our 
disappointment  found  they  had  not  seen  any  thing,  nor 
discharged  their  guns,  which  threw  the  Indians  into  great 
perplexity  to  imagine  who  could  be  hunting  in  this  part  of 
the  country,  beside  ourselves.  After  much  consultation, 
they  concluded  they  were  Mohawks,  as  none  of  the  Penob- 
scots  or  Passamaquoddj-s  had  left  their  town  since  the 
middle  of  summer;  in  addition  to  the  guns  we  heard,  there 
were  frequent  indications  of  traps  having  been  set  for  mus- 
quash, and  the  places  marked  with  slips  of  birch  bark,  in 
a  particularly  neat  manner,  foreign  to  the  Indians  of 
Maine,  and  as  the  Mohawks  and  Penobscots  are  not  on 
very  friendh^  terms,  my  friends  became  quite  uneasy. 

The  next  morning  it  was  clear,  frosty,  and  colder 
than  the  preceding,  enough  so,  to  form  ice  in  the  little 
puddles  as  thick  as  a  quarter  of  a  dollar.      Three  mus- 


quash in  the  traps,  which  came  just  in  time  for  breakfast; 
and  as  they  are  one  of  the  greatest  luxuries  of  the  Penob- 
scots, I  was  pleased  to  find  that  my  companions  thought 
they  were  living  in  clover.  The  unlucky  circumstance  of 
another  party  having  preceded  us  on  tlie  west  branch,  was 
a  death  blow  to  my  little  expedition.  Since  a  suspicion  has 
arisen  of  their  being  Mohawks,  my  guides  began  to  waver, 
and  acknowledge  they  do  not  know  any  thing  about  the 
country  up  this  stream;  and  on  the  east  branch,  they  say 
I  have  no  chance  of  success  in  hunting  moose  and  carabou, 
or  in  fact  any  game,  as  their  tribe  has  been  hunting 
there  most  of  the  summer.  To  all  my  inquiries  about  our 
course  and  game,  Mitchell  Louis,  who  seems  to  be  the 
leader  of  the  two,  always  replied,  "dont  know  bejockly, 
may  be  we  see  um,  may  be  he  all  gone,  we  go  where  you 
want  um  go,  spose  so,"  from  all  of  which  I  drew  the 
inference,  that  it  was  spending  my  time  and  money  to 
little  purpose  to  keep  on  with  my  present  guides,  unless 
we  could  ascend  the  west  branch;  but  this,  both  Indians 
opposed  by  saying,  the  "  Mohawks  berry  bad  men,  we 
not  want  to  see  um,  may  be  kill  um  all  the  game  too,  den 
dat  not  good  spose  for  you;"  so  that  I  was  obliged, 
though  reluctantly,  to  give  the  order  "right  about,"  and 
our  canoes  once  more  headed  towards  lake  Paoonook. 


ARCHERY.  being  esteemed  an  eligible  and  useful  amusement ;  and  if 
it  can  also  be  shown  to  possess  some  valuable  qualifications 
The  value  of  agreeable  amusements  has  been  acknow-  which  are  not  to  be  found  in  other  diversions,  the  benefits 
ledged  in  every  age,  as  the  most  important  advantages  to  to  be  derived  from   its  practice   will  be  still   more  con- 
health  and  happiness  are  in  a  gi-eat  measure  subject  to  their  spicuous. 

influence.      If  we  find  that  both   are    interested    and   im-  Archer}-,  in  fact,  possesses  many  excellencies  as  an  exer- 

proved  by  archery,  it  must  prove  a  sufficient  reason  for  its  cise,  which  renders  it  one  of  the  most  useful  of  the  gym- 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY. 


nastic  sports.  It  is  adapted  for  every  age  and  every  de- 
gree of  strength;  and  the  degree  of  exertion  can  always  be 
proportioned,  by  increasing  or  diminishing  the  power  of 
the  bow  employed.  It  is  not  necessarily  laborious,  as  it 
may  be  relinquished  as  soon  as  it  becomes  irksome  or 
fatiguing. 

It  is  recorded,  that  a  king  of  Persia  offered  a  reward  to 
whoever  could  invent  a  new  pleasure.  Had  such  an  induce- 
ment been  held  forth  by  the  ladies  of  the  present  day,  he  who 
introduced  Archery  as  a  female  amusement,  might  deserved- 
ly have  claimed  the  prize.  It  is  unfortunate  that  there  are  few 
diversions  in  the  open  air,  in  which  women  can  join  with 
satisfaction,  or  without  overstepping  those  bounds  which 
custom  and  innate  delicacy  have  prescribed  to  the  sex;  and 
as  their  sedentary  life  renders  exercise  necessary  to  health, 
it  is  to  be  lamented  that  suitable  amusements  have  been 
wanting,  to  invite  them  into  the  open  air.  Archery,  how- 
ever, is  admirably  calculated  to  supply  this  deficiency,  and 
in  a  manner  the  most  desirable  that  could  be  wished. 

The  bow  is  the  most  ancient  and  universal  of  all  wea- 
pons, and  has  been  found  in  use  amongst  the  most  barbar- 
ous and  remote  nations.  In  the  days  of  David,  the  practice 
of  this  instrument  of  warfare  appears  to  have  been  so  gene- 
ral, that  it  is  constantly  made  use  of  in  the  Bible  as  a  figure 
of  speech.  Its  earliest  application,  however,  was  for  the 
purpose  of  procuring  food ;  and,  notwithstanding  the  cele- 
brity of  the  English  archers,  it  is  a  question  among  anti- 
quaries whether  it  was  ever  used  by  the  Anglo-Saxons  and 
Danes  except  for  the  chase,  or  as  an  amusement.  All  au- 
thorities agree,  that  it  never  was  considered  as  a  formidable 
weapon  of  offence  in  that  country  until  after  the  Norman 
conquest,  who  introduced  the  general  use  of  it  and  the  cross- 
bow among  their  military  retainers  and  serfs ;  the  differ- 
ence in  the  use  of  which  is  well  exemplified  in  a  simile 
made  by  the  celebrated  Bayle  :  "Testimony,"  says  he, 
"is  like  the  shot  of  a  long  bow,  wliich  owes  its  efficacy  to 
the  force  of  the  shooter,  whereas  argument  is  like  that  of 
the  cross-bow,  equally  forcible,  whether  discharged  by  a 
dwarf  or  a  giant."  It  is  now  wholly  relinquished  among 
civilised  nations  as  a  hostile  weapon,  but  still  retains  a  pro- 
minent rank  as  affording  a  healthy  and  rational  amusement. 
This  exercise,  which  is  exceedingly  common  in  Europe, 
and  more  particularly  in  Great  Britain,  is  scarcely  known 
in  this  country;  the  only  association  of  Bowmen  in  the 
United  States,  as  far  as  we  can  learn,  being  in  this  city. 
We  trust,  however,  that  this  fashion  may  be  universally 
cultivated  and  approved,  and  that  we  may  see  the  time 
when,  with  Statius,  it  will  be  said 

'•  Pudor  esl  nescire  sagiltas." 

Every  information  respecting  the  use  of  the  Bow,  can  be 


readily  obtained  from  the  "Archer's  Manual,"  a  little 
work  published  by  Mr.  Hobson,  of  Philadelphia,  under 
the  superintendence  of  the  "United  Bowmen."  Shooting 
apparatus  can  likewise  be  obtained  without  much  difficulty, 
either  in  this  city,  or  may  be  imported  from  Europe. 

We  have  been  led  into  these  remarks,  from  a  wish  to 
see  this  useful  and  agi-eeable  amusement  become  general  in 
our  country,  where  there  is  such  a  dearth  of  invigorating 
exercises,  with  the  exception  of  those  of  the  chase.  The 
association  to  which  we  have  alluded,  held  their  third 
annual  prize  meeting  on  the  twenty-second  of  October, 
when  the  first  prize,  a  silver  bugle,  was  awarded  to  Mr.  X. 
for  the  greatest  value  of  hits,  and  the  second,  a  silver 
grease  box,  for  the  hit  nearest  the  centre  of  the  target,  to 
Mr.  C.  From  the  unfavourable  state  of  the  weather,  the 
shooting  was  far  from  being  equal  to  that  on  many  of  the 
ordinary  practice  meetings  of  the  association. 


MISCEL,L.A]N  Y. 


A  PHEASANT  was  chased  by  a  hawk,  a  few  days 
since,  from  a  swamp,  and  took  refuge  in  the  chimney  of 
the  dwelling  house,  on  the  farm  of  Mr.  E.  Seeley,  in 
Cumberland  county,  N.  J.  and  descended  into  the  parlour, 
whence  it  was  taken,  and  kept  alive  for  several  days. 

The  same  gentleman  has  a  domestic  fowl,  which  pro- 
duces regularly,  eggs  with  double  yolks,  and  about  the' 
size  of  those  of  a  turkey. 


In  the  following  anecdote,  Hogg  tells  a  monstrous 
storjr,  with  an  honest  simplicity,  that  makes  one  laugh: — 
It's  a  good  sign  of  a  dog  when  his  face  grows  like  his 
master's.  It's  a  proof  he's  aye  glowerin'  up  in  his  mas- 
ter's een,  to  discover  what  he's  thinking  on;  and  then, 
without  the  word  or  wave  o'  command,  to  be  aff  to  execute 
the  widl  o'  his  silent  thocht,  whether  it  be  to  wear  sheep 
or  run  doon  deer.  Hector  got  sae  like  me,  afore  he  dee'd, 
that  I  remember  when  I  was  owre  lazy  to  gang  to  the  kirk, 
I  used  to  send  him  to  take  my  place  in  the  pew — and  the 
minister  never  kent  the  difference.  Indeed  he  ance  asked 
me,  next  day,  what  I  thocht  o'  the  sermon;  for  he  saw  me 
wonderfu'  attentive  amang  a  rather  sleepy  congregation. 
Hector  and  me  gied  ane  anither  sic  a  look!  and  I  was 
feared  Mr.  Paton  wud  hae  observed  it;  but  he  was  a  sim- 
ple, primitive,  unsuspectin'  auld  man — a  very  Nathaniel 
without  guile,  and  he  jealoused  naething;  tho'  both  Hector 
and  me  was  like  to  split;  and  the  dog  after  laughing  in  his 
sleeve,  for  mair  than  a  hundred  yards,  could  stand't  nae 
longer,  but  was  obliged  to  loup  awa  owre  a  hedge  into  a 
potato  field,  pretending  to  have  scented  partridges. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


25 


RED  FOX. 

CANIS  (VULPES)   FULVUS. 

Renard  de  l'l}-gi?iie.  Palisot  de  Beauvois.  JBuL  soc. 
Phil. — Large  Red  Fox  of  the  Plains.  Lewis  & 
Clark. — Red  Fox.  Sabine.  App.  to  Franklin's  Joiir- 
.  ney,  656.  Godman,  vol.  i.  276. — American  Fox. 
Richardson,  Faun.  am.  bor.  91. — Canis  fulviis, 
Desm.  Mamm.  203.  Icon  F.  Cuv.  Mam.  Lit  hog. — 
J.  Doughty's  Collection. 

The  various  species  of  the  Fox  have  been  classed  by 
most  natLiralists  in  the  genus  Canis  Lin.  together  with  the 
wolf  and  jackal.  From  these  animals,  however,  they  differ 
in  man}'  important  particulars.  In  the  dogs,  the  pupil  of  the 
eye  is  circular  and  diurnal;  whilst  in  the  Fox,  it  is  linear 
and  nocturnal.  The  tail  is  also  more  bushy,  the  nose  more 
pointed,  and  the  scent  stronger  than  in  the  former.  There 
is  likewise  a  very  marked  dissimilarity  in  many  of  their 
habits  and  manners;  thus  the  Fox  burrows,  which  the  dog 
does  not,  the  voice  of  the  former  is  rather  a  yelp  than  a 
bark,  &c.  From  these  considerations,  some  naturalists 
have  wholly  separated  them  from  Canis  under  the  title  of 
Vulpes,  and  others,  though  retaining  them  in  that  genus, 
make  them  a  subdivision  or  subgenus. 

The  Fox  belongs  to  the  Digitigrada,  or  second  tribe  of 
the  Carnivora,  including  such  animals  as  support  them- 
selves in  walking,  on  the  extremities  of  the  toes.  The 
digitigrade  animals  are  subdivided,  1st.  into  such  as  have 
one  tubercular  or  bruising  grinder  in  the  upper  jaw;  are 
destitute  of  a  coecum,  and  whose  body  is  very  little  larger 
than  their  head.  This  subdivision  includes  the  genus 
Mustela  of  Linne,  which  has  been  split  into  several  well 
marked  genera;  by  more  modern  naturalists,  as  Mustela,  L. 
Putorius,  Cuv.  Mephitis,  Cuv.  Lutra,  Storr.  2d.  Such 
as  have  two  flat  tubercular  teeth  in  the  upper  jaw,  and  are 
furnished  with  a  small  coecum;  these  are,  Canis,  Lin. 
Vulpes,  Gesner.  Viverra,  Cuv.  Genetta,  Cuv.  Paradox- 
urus,  Cuv.  Herpestes,  Illig.  Suricata,  Desm.  Crossar- 
chiis,  F.  Cuv.  3d.  Those  which  have  no  tubercular  tooth  in 
the  lower  jaw,  which  includes  Felis,  Lin.  Hywna,  Storr. 

Most  of  the  species  of  the  Fox  have  the  same  cunning  and 
sagacity,  the  same  eagerness  after  prey,  and  commit  the 
same  ravages  among  game,  birds,  poultry,  and  the  lesser 
quadrupeds.  They  are  exceedingly  fond  of  honey,  and 
will  attack  hives  and  the  nests  of  the  wild  bee,  for  the 
sake  of  the  spoil;  in  these  exploits  they  frequently  meet 
with  so  rough  a  reception,  as  to  force  them  to  retire,  that 
they  may  roll  on  the  ground  and  thus  crush  their  nume- 
rous and  vindictive  assailants;  but  the  moment  they  have 
effected  this,  they  return  to  tlie  charge  and  are  generally 


successful.  Foxes  will  also  eat  any  sort  of  insect,  fruit, 
&c.  and  are  very  destructive  in  vineyards.  This  latter 
propensity  was  observed  at  a  very  early  period.  "  Take 
us  the  Foxes,  the  little  Foxes  that  spoil  the  vines,  for  our 
vines  have  tender  grapes."* 

But  they  do  not  limit  themselves  to  the  quantity  of  food 
necessary  to  appease  the  cravings  of  their  appetite  at  the 
moment.  Instinct  appears  to  warn  them,  that  although 
they  may  then  be  revelling  in  plenty,  that  future  wants 
must  also  be  provided  against.  Hence,  when  they  invade 
a  poultry  yard,  they  kill  all  they  can,  and  successively 
carry  off  every  piece,  concealing  them  in  the  neighbour- 
hood for  a  supply  in  time  of  need.  Captain  Lyon,  in 
speaking  of  this  trait  of  character  in  the  arctic  Fox,  ob- 
serves, "Their  first  impulse  on  receiving  food,  is  to  hide 
it  as  soon  as  possible,  even  though  suffering  from  hunger, 
and  having  no  companion  of  whose  honesty  they  are  doubt- 
ful. In  this  case  snow  is  of  great  assistance,  as  being 
easily  piled  over  their  stores,  and  then  forcibly  pressed 
down  by  the  nose.  I  frequently  observed  my  dog-fox, 
when  no  snow  was  attainable,  gather  his  chain  into  his 
mouth,  and  in  that  manner  carefully  coil  it  so  as  to  hide 
the  meat.  On  moving  away,  satisfied  with  his  operations, 
he  of  course,  had  drawn  it  after  him  again,  and  sometimes 
with  great  patience  repeated  his  labors  four  or  five  times, 
until  in  a  passion,  he  has  been  constrained  to  eat  his  food, 
without  its  having  been  rendered  luscious  by  previous  con- 
cealment, "t 

Foxes  are  very  fond  of  basking  in  the  sun;  in  fact  their 
general  time  of  rest  is  in  the  day  time,  during  which  pe- 
riod they  appear  listless  and  inactive,  without  they  are 
excited  by  fear  or  some  other  stimulus.  They  sleep  in  a 
round  form  like  the  dog,  and  also  resemble  that  animal  in 
the  ease  with  which  they  are  awakened,  it  being  almost 
impossible  to  come  on  them  unawares,  for  even  when  they 
are  in  an  apparently  sound  sleep,  the  slightest  noise,  made 
near  them,  will  arouse  them.  The  moment  night  sets  in, 
all  their  faculties  are  awakened;  they  then  begin  their 
gambols  and  depredations,  continuing  in  rapid  and  almost 
unceasing  motion  till  day  break.  ]\Iost,  if  not  all,  the  spe- 
cies live  in  burrows;  these  are  generally  composed  of 
several  chambers,  and  are  provided  with  more  than  one 
entrance,  by  which  they  may  make  their  escape  in  cases  of 
extremity.  One  of  the  great  characteristics  of  the  Fox,  is 
their  extreme  prudence  and  almost  matchless  cunning, 
which  are  exemplified  not  only  in  their  stratagems  to  ob- 
tain prey,  but  also  in  their  numerous  wiles  in  order  to 
avoid  their  pursuers.  Dr.  Richardson  states,  that-  the 
arctic  Fox  appears  to  have  the  power  of  decoying  other 

»  Solomon's  Song,  ii.  15.  t  Lyon's  Private  Journal. 


26 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY, 


animals  within  his  reach,  by  imitating  their  voices:  this  is 
confirmed  by  Captain  Lyon,  who  states,  "that  while  tent- 
ing, we  observed  a  Fox  prowling  on  a  hill  side,  and  heard 
him  for  several  hours  afterwards  in  different  places,  imi- 
tating the  cry  of  a  brent  goose."  Crantz,  in  his  History  of 
Greenland,  informs  us,  that  this  species  also  exert  an  extra- 
ordinary degree  of  cunning  in  their  mode  of  obtaining  fish. 
They  go  into  the  water,  and  make  a  splash  with  their  feet 
in  order  to  excite  their  curiosity,  and  when  they  come  up, 
seize  them.  The  mode  in  which  some  species  entrap 
water  fowl  is  also  extremely  ingenious.  They  advance  a 
little  way  into  the  water  and  afterwards  retire,  playing  a 
thousand  antic  tricks  on  the  banks.  The  fowl  approach, 
and  when  they  come  near,  the  animal  ceases,  that  he  may 
not  alarm  them,  moving  only  his  tail  about,  and  that  very 
gently,  till  the  birds  approach  so  near  that  he  is  enabled  to 
seize  one  or  more.*  But  these  are  trifling  displays  of  in- 
genuity in  comparison  to  some  which  are  related  of  these 
animals.  Thus,  Pliny  says,  that  such  is  the  sagacity  of 
Foxes  that  they  will  not  venture  on  any  piece  of  ice  until 
they  have  ascertained  its  thickness  and  strength,  by  apply- 
ing their  ear  to  it.  A  late  traveller  in  Norway,  we  believe 
Capell  Brooke,  states  that  the  Foxes  of  the  North  Cape 
take  sea  fowl  by  letting  one  of  their  companions  over  the 
edge  of  a  cliff  by  his  tail,  and  where  this  does  not  enable 
them  to  reach  their  prey,  that  a  line  is  formed  of  no  incon- 
siderable length,  by  seizing  each  other's  tails  in  their 
mouths.  That  credulous  author,  Pontoppidan,  also  informs 
us,  "  that  a  certain  person  was  surprised  on  seeing  a  Fox 
near  a  fisherman's  house,  laying  a  parcel  of  fishes'  heads  in 
a  row;  he  waited  the  event,  the  Fox  hid  himself  behind 
them,  and  made  a  booty  of  the  first  crow  that  came  for  a 
bit  of  them." 

This  character  of  cunning  and  extreme  prudence  in  the 
Fox,  renders  him  extremely  difficult  to  be  destroyed,  or 
taken.  As  soon  as  he  has  acquired  a  little  experience,  he 
is  not  to  be  deceived  by  the  snares  laid  for  him,  and  the 
moment  he  recognizes  them,  nothing  can  induce  him  to 
approach  them,  even  when  suffering  the  severest  pangs  of 
hunger.  The  scent  which  the  Fox  leaves  behind  him 
being  exceeding  strong,  he  appears  sensible  of  that  cir- 
cumstance, and  uses  every  artifice  to  bewilder  his  pursuers 
and  throw  them  out  of  their  track.  He  generally  takes 
advantage  of  the  wind,  and  often  crosses  rivers,  swims 
down  small  streams  or  runs  along  the  top  of  a  wall,  in 
order  to  interrupt  the  continuity  of  the  scent,  and  puzzle 
the  dogs.  This  timid  and  prudential  character,  however, 
completely  disappears  in  the  female  when  she  has  young 
ones  to  nurse  and  defend.     Maternal  instinct,   which  is 


forcibly  felt  by  all  species  of  animals,  and  effaces  for  a 
time  their  natural  propensities,  is  peculiarly  striking  in  the 
Fox.  There  is  no  sentiment  so  universal  in  its  nature  and 
so  wholly  disinterested  as  this;  none  in  which  personal 
danger  is  so  completely  unheeded  and  disregarded.  A 
mother  never  hesitates  an  instant  in  facing  the  most  appal- 
ling danger,  or  enduring  the  utmost  privations,  risking 
every  thing,  even  life  itself,  for  the  preservation  of  her 
infant  offspring.  She  that  at  other  times  was  timid  and 
gentle,  now  becomes  bold,  fierce,  and  resolute;  unshaken 
by  all  that  is  trying,  undeterred  by  all  that  is  menacing. 
Thus  the  female  Fox  watches  with  unceasing  care  over  her 
young,  assiduously  providing  for  all  their  wants,  and  ex- 
hibiting a  fearlessness  wholly  different  from  her  usual  dis- 
position. Goldsmith  relates  a  remarkable  instance  of  this 
parental  affection,  which  he  says  occurred  near  Chelmsford, 
in  England.  "  A  she  Fox  that  had,  as  it  would  seem,  but 
one  cub,  was  unkennelled  by  a  gentleman's  hounds  and 
hotly  pursued.  The  poor  animal,  braving  every  danger, 
rather  than  leave  her  cub  to  be  worried  by  the  dogs,  took 
it  up  in  her  mouth  and  ran  with  it  in  this  way  for  some 
miles.  At  last,  taking  her  way  through  a  farmer's  yard, 
she  was  assaulted  by  a  mastiff,  and  at  length  obliged  to  drop 
her  cub." 

The  Fox  goes  with  young  about  three  months,  and  the 
litter  is  composed  of  from  three  to  eight.  The  cubs,  like 
puppies,  are  covered  with  hair,  and  are  born  blind.  They 
remain  in  the  burrow  about  three  or  four  months,  and  soon 
after  abandon  their  parents;  at  two  years  of  age  their 
growth  is  completed. 

As  the  vicinity  of  the  Fox  is  productive  of  mischief  and 
destruction,  and  as  its  cunning  and  sagacity  augment  its 
resources  against  danger,  its  chase  has  always  afforded  a 
subject  of  amusement  and  occupation.  Many  crowned 
heads  have  been  passionately  devoted  to  this  sport  Among 
others,  Louis  XIII.  of  France,  gave  it  the  preference  over 
all  others,  and  brought  to  perfection  the  employment  of 
the  hound,  instead  of  the  terrier,  which  had  heretofore  been 
constantly  used  for  this  purpose.  This  invigorating  and 
healthful  exercise  is  pursued  with  great  ardour  in  some 
parts  of  our  country,  particularly  in  the  southern  States. 
From  Custis's  Recollections  of  Washington,  it  appears  that 
previous  to  1787,  he  was  a  keen  Fox  hunter:  this  bold  and 
animating  sport  being  well  suited  to  his  temperament,  and 
his  fondness  for  equestrian  feats.  His  habit  was  to  hunt 
three  times  a  week;  as  is  well  known,  Washington  was  a 
skilful  and  fearless  rider,  and  ridiculed  the  idea  of  being 
unhorsed,  provided  the  animal  kept  on  his  legs,  he 
always  followed  the  hounds,  through  all  difficulties;  was 
invariably  in  at  the  death,  yielding  to  no  man  the  honor  of 
the  brush. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


Besides  the  chase,  various  means  are  resorted  to,  for  the 
purpose  of  destroying  these  mischievous  animals,  which, 
though  sometimes  successful,  often  fail,  from  their  extreme 
cunning,  which  enables  them  to  avoid  the  best  concerted 
schemes  for  their  capture.  Even  when  taken  in  a  steel 
trap,  it  is  said  that  they  wll  sacrifice  a  limb  to  escape — 

''by  the  indented  steel 
With  gripe  tenacious  held,  the  felon  grieves, 
And  struggles,  but  in  vain,  yet  oft  "lis  known, 
When  ev'ry  ain  has  fail'd,  the  captive  Fox 
Has  shar'd  the  wounded  joint,  and  with  a  limb 
Compounded  for  his  life." — Somenilk.  Cliase. 

The  fur  is  valuable  and  much  sought  for,  particularly 
that  of  the  black  or  silver  Fox,  which  sells  for  six  times 
the  price  of  any  other,  that  is  produced  in  North  America. 
La  Hontan  speaks  of  a  black  Fox  skin  as  being,  in  his  time, 
worth  its  weight  in  gold. 

The  different  species  of  Fox  are  involved  in  much  con- 
fusion. There  are  few  animals  of  which  travellers  have 
spoken  more,  and  yet  there  are  scarcely  any  whose  history 
has  been  treated  of  with  less  precision  and  method.  As 
far  as  our  researches  have  extended,  the  following  appear 
to  be  the  well  determined  species  and  varieties.  As  re- 
gards tliose  of  North  America,  we  have  followed  Dr.  Rich- 
ardson, who  has  paid  particular  attention  to  them,  and 
whose  acuteness  and  industry,  deserves  the  thanks  of 
every  naturalist 

1.  Canis  (Vulpes)  Vulgaris.     Common  Fox. 

Var.  a.  V.  alopex.      Brant  Fox. 

b.  V.  crucigera.     European  cross  Fox. 

2.  V.  lagopus.      Arctic  Fox. 

Var.  a.  V.  fuliginosus.      Sooty  Fox. 

3.  V.  fulvus.     Red  Fox. 

Var.  a.  V.  decussatus.     American  cross  Fox. 
b.  V.  argentatus.     Black,  or  silver  Fox. 

4.  V.  Virginianus.      Gray  Fox. 

5.  V.  cinereo-argentatus.      Swift  Fox. 

6.  V.  corsac.     Corsac  Fox. 

Var.  a.  V.  Karagan.     Desert  Fox. 

7.  V.  Niloticus.     Egyptian  Fox. 

There  are  a  variety  of  other  nominal  species  which  we 
have  omitted,  not  being  able  to  satisfy  ourselves  respecting 
tliem.  It  is  astonishing  how  little  care  is  taken  by  travel- 
lers, to  ascertain  the  proper  names  of  the  animals  they 
describe  in  their  journals,  even  when  the  means  of  infor- 
mation is  within  their  reach.  The  history  of  the  various 
species  of  the  animal  kingdom  can  only  be  the  result  of  a 
long  series  of  observations,  which  it  is  utterly  impossible 
for  a  single  individual  to  make.  Hence,  if  travellers 
describe  the  same  animal  under  different  names,  it  loads 
science  with  a  host  of  unnecessary  species,  and  retards  in- 
stead of  advancing  the  progress  of  inquiry. 


The  red  Fox  is  an  inhabitant  of  most  parts  of  our  conti- 
nent, but  appears  to  occur  in  the  greatest  numbers  to  the 
north;  they  are  so  abundant  in  what  are  termed  the  fur 
countries,  that  Dr.  Richardson  says,  that  about  eight  thou- 
sand are  annually  imported  into  England  from  thence. 
They  are,  however,  by  far  too  numerous  in  the  United 
States,  giving  manifest  proofs  of  their  presence  in  their 
depredations  on  the  poultry  yards. 

The  general  colour  of  this  species  in  its  summer  coat,  is 
"  bright  ferruginous  on  the  back,  head,  and  sides,  less  bril- 
liant towards  the  tail;  under  the  chin  white;  the  throat 
and  neck  a  dark  gray;  and  this  colour  is  continued  along 
the  first  part  of  the  belly  in  a  stripe  of  less  width  than  on 
the  breast;  the  under  parts,  towards  the  tail,  are  very  pale 
red;  the  fronts  of  the  fore  legs  and  feet  are  black,  (or  dark 
brown,)  and  the  fronts  of  the  lower  parts  of  the  hind  legs 
are  also  black;  the  tail  is  very  bushy,  but  less  ferruginous 
than  the  body,  the  hairs  mostly  terminated  with  black,  and 
more  so  towards  the  extremity  than  near  the  root,  giving 
the  whole  a  dark  appearance;  a  few  of  the  hairs  at  the  end 
are  lighter,  but  it  is  not  tipped  with  white." — Sabine. 
The  colour  of  the  tip,  however,  differs  much;  in  some 
specimens,  the  white  being  very  distinct,  whilst  in  others 
this  tint  is  scarcely  discernible.  This  summer  coat  is  long, 
fine,  and  brilliant,  as  winter  approaches  it  gradually  be- 
comes longer  and  denser,  even  the  soles  of  the  feet  being 
completely  covered  with  fur,  which  wears  off  in  the  sum- 
mer, leaving  naked  callous  spots. 

It  bears  a  strong  resemblance  to  the  common  Fox  of 
Europe,  and  was  considered  identical  with  that  species 
until  De  Beauvois  pointed  out  its  differences.  These,  as 
stated  by  Dr.  Richardson,  are,  that  the  American  species 
has  longer  and  finer  fur,  and  is  more  brilliant  in  its  colours. 
Its  cheeks  are  rounder,  its  nose  tliicker,  shorter,  and  more 
truncated.  Its  eyes  are  nearer  to  each  other.  Its  ears  are 
shorter,  the  hair  on  its  legs  is  longer,  and  the  feet  more 
covered  with  fur,  its  tail  is  also  fuller  and  finer.  The 
colour  of  the  breast  is  more  inclined  to  a  gray,  and  that  of 
the  anterior  part  of  the  legs  of  a  darker  brown,  being 
nearly  black.  Desmarest  likewise  mentions,  that  there  is  a 
difference  in  the  form  of  the  skulls  of  the  two  species. 

As  there  still  exists  no  slight  difference  of  opinion,  as  to 
whether  this  animal  is  a  native;  many  persons  considering 
that  it  is  merely  the  European  species  which  has  become 
naturalized,  whilst  others  appear  to  think  that  there  are 
two  distinct  varieties,  closely  resembling  each  other,  the 
one  native  and  the  other  introduced;  we  will  examine  the 
grounds  of  the  various  hypotheses,  before  entering  on  a 
description  of  the  habits  and  manners  of  the  subject  of  our 
sketch.  In  doing  this,  we  have  thought  it  would  be  satis- 
factory to  our  readers,  to  cite  the  various  authorities  we 
have  had  occasion  to  consult  on  each  side  of  the  question. 


28  THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY, 

Pennant*  under  the  head  of  European  Fox,  observes,  shown  to  a  Mr.  Lenarton,  an  old  Jersey  man,  who  pro- 
<'  It  inhabits  the  northern  parts  of  North  America.  This  nounced  it  an  English  Fox.  He  said  the  red  Fox  was 
species  gradually  decreases  to  the  southward  in  numbers  imported  into  New  York  from  England,  by  one  of  the 
and  size;  none  are  found  lower  than  Pennsylvania.  They  first  English  governors,  who  was  said  to  be  a  great  sports- 
are  supposed  not  to  have  been  originally  natives  of  that  man,  and  turned  out  on  Long  Island,  where  they  remained 
country.  The  Indians  believe  they  came  from  the  north  for  many  years,  but  at  last  made  their  way  on  the  ice  to  the 
of  Europe,  in  an  excessive  hard  winter,  when  the  sea  was  main  land  and  spread  over  the  country.  The  red  Fox  and 
frozen.  The  truth  seems  to  be,  that  they  were  driven  in  Canada  hare  are  migrating  south  and  west"* 
some  severe  season  from  the  north  of  their  own  country.  In  another  letter  from  a  correspondent  in  the  same  work 
and  have  continued  there  ever  since.  The  variety  of  the  writer  observes,  "with  us  (Virginia)  he  is  supposed 
British  Fox  with  a  black  tip  to  the  tail,  seems  unknown  in  to  have  been  brought  from  the  continent— Germany,  I 
America."  think — and  not  from  the  island  of  Great  Britain.  I  re- 
Kalm  says,  "  The  red  Foxes  are  very  scarce  here  (New  member  well,  when  the  first  red  Fox  was  seen  in  my  native 
York);  they  are  entirely  the  same  with  the  European  part  of  Virginia  (in  Goochland,  on  James' River,)  and  the 
sort.  Mr.  Bartram  and  several  others  assured  me,  that,  sensation  it  created  among  sportsmen.  This  was  about 
according  to  the  unanimous  testimony  of  the  Indians,  this  fifteen  years  ago."t 

kind  of  Fox  never  was  seen  in  the  country  before  the  Eu-  Both  the  above  writers  also  state,  that  the  gray  Fox  (  V. 

ropeans  settled  in  it.     But  of  the  manner  of  their  coming  Virginianus)   disappears  on   the  appearance  of  the  red. 

over,    I    have   two   accounts.     Mr.   Bartram,  and  several  This,  however,  is  not  the  case,  as  in  many  parts  they  are 

other  people,  were  told  by  the  Indians,  that  these  Foxes  equally  numerous. 

came  into  America  soon  after  the  arrival  of  the  Europeans,  Such,  as  far  as  we  have  been  able  to  investigate,  are  the 

after  an  extraordinary  cold  winter,  when  all  the  sea  to  the  proofs,  that  the  red  Fox  is  identical  with  the  common  Fox 

northward  was  frozen.     But  Mr.  Evans  and  some  others,  of  Europe,  being  in  fact  descended  from  it.      On  the  other 

assured  me  that  the  following  account  was  still  known  by  hand  many  writers,  as  F.  Cuvier,  Desmarest,  and  Harlan, 

the   people.     A    gentleman    in   New  England,  who    had  admit  and  describe  the  red  Fox  as  a  distinct  species,  but  at 

much  inclination  for  hunting,  brought  over  a  great  number  the  same  time  state  that  the  European  Fox  is  also  an  inhabi- 

of  Foxes  from  Europe,  and  let  them  loose  in  his  terri-  tant  of  North  America.     Dr.  Richardson  says,   the  latter 

tories,   that  he  might  be  able  to  indulge  his  passion  for  is  probably  a  native  of  New  Caledonia,  and  further  ob- 

hunting.     This,  it  is  said,  happened  at  the  very  beginning  serves,  "  Several  of  the  voyagers  who  have  visited  the  At- 

of  New  England's  being  peopled  with  European  inhabi-  lantic  coast  of  North  America,  mention  two  kinds  of  red 

tants.     These  Foxes  were  believed  to  have  so  multiplied.  Fox  skins  in  possession  of  the  natives;  the  one  having  a 

that   all   the  red   Foxes   in    the   country  were   their   off-  fine,  long,   silvery  fur,  of  a  reddish  yellow  colour,    (C. 

spring,  "t     It  is  due  to  Kalm  to  state,  that  he  considers  fulvus?)  the  other  of  a  smaller  size,  having  shorter  and 

neither  of  these   accounts  as  satisfactory.      Custis   states,  coarser  fur  and  less  lively  tints  of  colour  (C.  vulpes?)     I 

<'  The  Foxes  hunted  fifty  years  ago  were  gray  Foxes,  with  think  it  very  probable  that  an  investigation  into  the  charac- 

one  exception,  this  was  a  famous  black  Fox;"  and  in  a  ters  of  the  American  Foxes,  will  show  that  the  reddish 

note  says,    "The  red  Fox  is  supposed  to  have  been  im-  Fox  of  the  Atlantic  States  is  a  variety  of  the  C  cinereus, 

ported  from  England  to  the  Eastern  Shore  of  Maryland,  (Q.   does  Dr.  Richardson  mean  the  gray  Fox  by  the  C. 

by  a  Mr.  Smith,  and  to  have  emigrated  across  the  ice  to  cinereus?)  which    has    been   mistaken   for  the  European 

Virginia,  in  the  hard  winter  of  1779-80,  when  the  Chesa-  Fox.  "J 

peake  was  frozen  over. "J  From    the  above   contradictory  and   unsatisfactory   ac- 

A  correspondent  in  the  American  Sporting  Magazine  counts,  we  have  been  led  to  believe  that  there  is  but  one 

says,   "  I  think  it  probable  that  they  were  brought  over  species  of  red  Fox  in  the  United  States,  and  the  country 

and  turned  out  at  other  places,  and  at  very  early  periods,  north  of  them;  this  opinion  is  strengthened  by  much  col- 

In  1789,  when  quite  a  boy,  I  was  at  the  death  of  the  first  lateral  evidence.     Thus,  Dr.   Richardson  expressly  states, 

red  Fox  killed   in  Perry  county,   Pennsylvania.     Not  a  "It  (the  common  Fox)   does  not  exist  in   the  countries 

person  present,  or  any  one  who  saw  it  for  some  days,  had  north  of  Canada,    lying   to  the  eastward  of  the   Rocky 

ever  seen  or  heard  of  an  animal  of  the  kind.     At  last  it  was  Mountains,    and   consequently  did    not   come   under   our 


•  Arclic  Zoolo^. 

t  Travels  in  North  America. 

t  Recollections  of  Washington,  (t 


t  from  Sporting  Mag.) 


*  American  Turf  Register  and  Sporting  JIaga 

\  Ibid.  i.  197. 

X  Richardson,  Faun.  am.  bor.  97. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


29 


notice  on  the  late  expeditions."*  This  at  once  over- 
throws Pennant's  account,  and  proves  that  the  Fox  he 
described  as  the  same  with  the  European,  was  in  reality 
the  V.  fulvus.  As  to  the  first  tradition,  given  by  Kalm, 
none  of  the  Indian  tribes  inhabiting  New  England  could, 
possibly,  possess  any  knowledge  of  the  state  of  the  sea  to 
the  north,  as  to  this  day,  the  tribes  dwelling  even  20  de- 
grees nearer  its  shores,  are  wholly  ignorant  of  it;  added  to 
which,  the  intermediate  nations  have  been  from  time  im- 
memorial at  war  with  their  neighbours.  As  regards  the 
introduction  of  common  Foxes  into  our  country  from  Eu- 
rope, for  the  purposes  of  hunting,  we  confess  we  are  scep- 
tical, though  we  cannot  absolutely  deny  the  fact.  But, 
even  granting  that  they  were  thus  introduced,  it  would  by 
no  means  account  for  the  great  numbers  of  these  animals 
which  are  now  to  be  found,  without  allowing  that  their 
prolific  powers  have  wonderfully  increased  by  their  change 
of  climate.  There  is  some  discrepancy  of  opinion  among 
authors,  as  to  the  colour  of  the  tip  of  the  tail  in  the  com- 
mon Fox:  Linnaeus,  and  most  other  writers,  say  it  is 
white,  whilst  Desmarest  asserts  it  is  black.  This  part  in 
the  red  Fox,  as  far  as  we  can  ascertain,  is  invariably 
whitish  or  white,  and  never  black. 

Since  we  commenced  this  investigation,  we  have  ex- 
amined a  great  number  of  skins  of  red  Foxes,  and  inva- 
riably found  all  those  which  were  acknowledged  to  be 
American,  of  one  species,  the  fulvus.  Without  relying 
on  our  own  researches  alone,  we  have  asked  the  opinion  of 
others,  and  have  found  that  our  ideas  were  confirmed  by 
those  who  have  had  ample  opportunities  for  information  on 
the  subject  Mr.  T.  Peale  permits  us  to  state,  that  during 
his  excursions,  and  among  the  various  specimens  he  has 
seen,  he  has  never  met  with  the  common  Fox  as  occurring 
in  the  United  States.  None  of  the  cabinets  in  this  city  even 
contain  a  specimen  of  the  V.  vulgaris. 

The  red  Fox  is  about  two  feet,  to  two  feet  and  a  half,  in 
length;  the  tail,  with  the  fur,  about  sixteen  inches;  height, 
from  fourteen  to  eighteen  inches.  It  burrows  in  the  sum- 
mer, and  in  winter  sometimes  takes  shelter  in  the  hollow 
of  a  tree,  or  under  one  which  has  fallen.  Their  usual 
haunts  are  in  dense  thickets,  where  they  are  with  difficulty 
followed.  The  female  brings  forth  in  the  spring,  and  has 
from  four  to  five  at  a  litter.  The  young  are  covered  at 
birth  with  a  soft  downy  fur,  of  a  yellowish  gray  colour, 
the  ferruginous  hair  not  appearing  till  they  are  from  five  to 
six  weeks  old.  When  taken  at  an  early  age,  this  species 
may  be  domesticated  to  a  certain  degree,  though  they 
always  retain  some  of  their  savage  propensities.  Dr. 
Richardson  says  he  procured  four  cubs,  a  fortnight  old, 

*  Richardson,  Faun,  am,  bor.  97. 


which  were  thought  by  the  hunters  to  be  the  cross  variety, 
but  which  eventually  proved  the  common  red  Fox.  These 
little  creatures  began  very  early  to  burrow  in  the  sandy 
floor  of  the  house  in  which  he  kept  them,  and  to  conceal 
themselves  during  the  day.  They,  however,  were  very 
tame,  and  would  come  on  being  called,  taking  food  from 
the  hand  and  carrying  it  to  their  places  of  concealment, 
never  eating  when  overlooked. 

A  young  one  was  also  suckled  at  the  Philadelphia  Mu- 
seum, by  a  cat,  who  continued  to  nurse  it  for  several 
weeks,  when  it  was  killed  by  a  fall.  They  are  unpleasant 
pets,  from  the  fetor  of  their  urine  somewhat  resembling 
that  of  the  skunk.  The  red  Fox,  besides  his  depredations 
on  the  poultry  yards,  likewise  preys  on  smaller  animals  of 
the  rat  kind,  rabbits,  &c. ;  he  is  also  fond  of  fish,  and,  in 
fact,  rejects  no  kind  of  animal  food  that  comes  in  his  way. 
His  flesh  is  rank  and  ill  tasted,  and  is  eaten  only  through 
necessity. 

The  red  Fox  resembles  his  European  congener,  in  his 
craftiness  and  cunning,  exhibiting  the  same  wiles  to  escape 
pursuit,  and  the  same  instinctive  cautiousness  of  traps  and 
snares.  It  is  said,  that  the  red  Fox  of  the  present  day  is 
killed  in  a  much  shorter  time,  and  with  more  certainty, 
than  formerly.  When  pursued,  they  are  more  apt  to  for- 
sake their  haunts,  and  run  for  miles  in  one  direction,  than 
the  gray,  which  is  often  killed,  even  after  a  severe  chase, 
near  the  place  from  which  it  first  set  out.  In  this  respect, 
the  latter  is  more  analogous  to  the  European.  The  red 
Fox  hunts  for  its  food  chiefly  in  the  night  time,  but  is  also 
frequently  seen  in  the  day.  In  the  winter  season,  their 
tracks  are  frequent  on  the  borders  of  lakes  and  ponds, 
which  they  quarter  somewhat  like  a  pointer  dog.  They 
turn  aside  to  almost  every  stump  or  twig  appearing  above 
ground,  and  void  their  urine  on  it. 

Various  methods  are  made  use  of  to  entrap  these  suspi- 
cious animals,  as  steel  or  box  traps,  and  falls  made  of  logs, 
&c. ;  but  much  nicety  is  required  in  setting  them,  or  the 
Fox  will  avoid  them.  A  very  neat  and  successful  mode  of 
fixing  a  steel  trap,  has  been  described  to  us.  After  having 
fixed  on  a  place  which  they  frequent,  the  trap  is  to  be 
opened  and  its  exact  form  traced  on  the  ground,  and  as 
much  earth  removed  as  will  contain  it  without  pressure: 
the  sod  removed  from  the  top  is  to  be  laid  over  it,  and  the 
lines  of  separation  covered  with  mould,  and  grass  stuck  in 
it.  A  bait  of  cheese  is  to  be  placed  above,  and  in  two  or  three 
places  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  it  is  better  to  bait  the 
spot  in  which  the  trap  is  set,  for  some  days  previous,  to 
remove  all  fear.  Some  of  the  best  trappers  ascribe  their 
success  to  the  use  of  assafostida,  castoreum,  and  other 
analogous  substances,  with  which  they  rub  their  traps,  and 
small  twigs    set   up   in  the  neighbourhood,  alleging  that 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY, 


these  substances  invariably  attract  the  animals.  The  box 
trap  has  occasionally  proved  successful.  The  best  plan  is 
to  vary  the  modes  from  time  to  time. 

CANIS  rVULPES)  FULVUS. 

Var.  a.    Decussatus. 
AMERICAN  CROSS  FOX. 
Eenard  barri  ou    Tsinantonqne.    Theodat.    Canada, 
745. — European  Fox.   var.  b.    Cross  Fox.  Pennant, 
,9rct.   Zool.    i.    46. — Canis   decussatus.    Geoffrot, 
Desmarest,  &c. 

The  American  decussatus  appears  to  bear  the  same 
relation  to  the  red  Fox,  as  the  European  crucigera  does 
to  the  common  Fox.  The  Indians,  observes  Dr.  Richard- 
son, consider  it  as  a  mere  variety  of  the  red  Fox,  and  in 
fact,  the  gradations  of  colour  between  characteristic  speci- 
mens of  the  cross  and  red  Fox  are  so  small,  that  the  hunt- 
ers are  often  in  doubt  with  respect  to  the  proper  denomi- 
nation of  a  skin. 

The  following  description  of  a  very  characteristic  speci- 
men, is  given  by  Mr.  Sabine. 

"The  front  of  the  head  gray,  composed  of  black  and 
white  hairs,  the  latter  predominating  on  the  forehead; 
ears  covered  with  soft  black  fur  behind,  and  with  long 
yellowish  hairs  within.  The  back  of  the  neck  and  shoul- 
ders pale  ferruginous,  crossed  with  dark  stripes;  one  ex- 
tending from  the  head  over  the  back,  the  other  passing  it 
at  right  angles  over  the  shoulders  ;  rest  of  the  back  gray, 
composed  of  black  fur,  tipped  with  white;  the  sides  pale 
ferruginous,  running  into  the  gray  of  the  back;  the  chin 
and  all  the  under  parts,  as  well  as  the  legs,  black;  a  few  of 
the  hairs  being  tipped  with  white;  the  under  part  of  the 
tail  and  adjacent  parts  of  the  body,  pale  yellow;  the  gray 
colour  of  the  back  extends  to  the  upper  part  of  the  tail  at 
its  commencement,  the  rest  of  the  tail  dark  above  and  light 
beneath,  tipped  with  white." 

F.  Cuvier  is  inclined  to  think,  that  it  is  a  variety  of  the 
argentatus,  and  Godman  supposes  that  it  may  possibly  be 
a  mule  produced  between  that  Fox  and  the  red.  The  fur 
of  this  species  is  valuable,  and  is  much  more  esteemed  than 
that  of  the  red  Fox,  even  where  they  are  of  equal  fineness. 

C.MNIS  (VULPES)  FULVUS. 

Var.  b.  Argentatus. 
BLACK,  OR  SILVER  FOX. 
Renard  noir.    Theodat.     Canada.     744. — European 
Fox,   var.   a.   black.  Pennant,  Arc.    Zool.    i.   46. — 
Renard  noir  ou  argente.  Geoff.   Collec.  de  Mus. — 


Renard  argentL  F.  Cuvier,  Mamm.  lith.  livr.  v. — 
Canis  argentatus.  Desmarest,  Mamm.  203.  Sabine, 
Harlan. — Black,  or  Silver  Fox.   Godman,  i.  274. 

This  variety  is  as  rare  in  America  as  the  analogous 
one  is  in  Europe,  a  greater  number  than  four  or  five  being 
seldom  taken  in  a  season,  at  any  one  post  of  the  fur  com- 
panies. Capell  Brooke  observes  of  the  European  variety, 
"  The  silver,  or  black  Fox  is  so  rare,  that  seldom  more 
than  three  or  four  are  taken  in  the  course  of  a  year  on  the 
Lofoden  Islands,  and  I  have  never  heard  of  its  being 
met  with  in  any  other  part  of  Norway. "  Pennant  seems 
to  think  that  this  may  arise  from  their  superior  cunning, 
for  he  remarks  "that  the  more  desirable  the  fur  is,  the 
more  cunning,  and  difficult  to  be  taken,  is  the  Fox  that 
owns  it."  This,  however,  is  erroneous,  it  depending 
solely  on  the  rarity  of  the  animal.  Dr.  Godman  says,  it 
more  closely  resembles  the  gray  Fox  than  any  other, 
differing  from  it  only,  in  the  colour  and  copiousness  of 
its  fur. 

This  Fox  is  sometimes  of  a  rich  lustrous  black  colour, 
with  the  exception  of  the  end  of  the  tail,  which  is  white. 
But  it  varies  much  in  this  particular.  "  A  fine  specimen, 
preserved  in  the  Hudson's  Bay  Museum,  has  the  head  and 
back  hoary,  most  of  the  long  hairs  on  those  parts  being 
white  from  the  tip  for  a  considerable  way  down.  The 
downy  fur  at  the  root  of  the  longer  hairs,  has  a  dark  black- 
ish brown  colour  The  nose,  legs,  sides  of  the  neck  and 
all  the  under  parts,  are  dusky,  approaching  to  black.  The 
tail  is  black.  Its  ears  are  erect,  triangular,  but  not  verj^ 
acute,  and  are  covered  with  a  soft  fur  of  a  brownish  black 
colour.  In  some  individuals,  the  fur,  which  in  most  parts 
is  hoary,  has  a  shining  black  colour,  unmixed  with  white, 
from  the  crown  of  the  head  to  the  middle  of  the  back,  and 
down  the  outside  of  the  shoulders,  being  an  approach  to 
the  cruciform  arrangement."* 

This  Fox  resembles  its  kindred,  in  the  unpleasant  odour 
it  diffuses.  F.  Cuvier  mentions  that  its  smell  is  very  disa- 
greeable, but  differs  somewhat  from  that  of  the  common 
Fox  of  Europe.  The  black  Fox  inhabits  the  same  districts 
as  the  red  Fox. 

»  Richardson,  O.  C.  95. 

NOTE. — As  we  are  very  solicitous  that  the  Natural  History  of  our  native 
animals  should  be  extricated  from  the  confusion  and  uncertainty  in  which  it  still 
remains;  we  would  feel  under  obligations  to  any  of  our  readers,  who  will  furnish 
us  with  such  information  as  they  may  possess  respecting  them.  We  are  led  to 
make  this  request,  from  a  desire  to  render  our  work  a  repository  of  facts  in  Na- 
tural History,  which  will  always  serve  for  useful  reference.  As  regards  the 
opinion  we  have  expressed  with  respect  to  the  Red  Fox,  we  shall  be  very  willing 
to  acknowledge  our  error,  on  the  sight  of  the  skin  of  the  Common  Fox,  killed  iu 
the  United  Slates,  and  will  feel  much  indebted  for  such  an  opportunity  of  set- 
tling the  question. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


31 


WINTER  WOLF-SKALLS, 

Or  the  manner  of  destroying  Wolves  in  Sweden  ;  with 
Anecdotes  of  these  ferocious  animals. 

WoLF-SKALLS  are  not  unfrequent  during  the  winter, 
in  the  vicinity  of  Stoclcholm.  These,  as  I  have  said,  are 
conducted  at  that  period  of  the  year  in  a  very  different 
manner  to  what  is  usual  in  the  summer  time.  I  had  hoped 
to  have  been  a  spectator  on  one  of  these  occasions,  but  un- 
fortunately no  chasse  took  place  during  my  stay  in  the 
capital. 

There  is  a  skall-plats,  or  hunting  place,  for  Wolves, 
situated  at  less  than  four  miles  from  Stoclvholm.  This  is 
an  area  marked  out  in  the  forest  by  a  pathway  of  about 
four  paces  in  width.  It  is  in  the  form  of  a  sugar  loaf,  and 
two  thousand  four  hundred  fathoms,  or  four  thousand  eight 
hundred  yai-ds,  in  circumference.  In  the  centi-e  of  the 
area,  the  lure,  or  carrion,  to  attract  the  Wolves,  was  de- 
posited; at  its  upper  end  are  five  screens,  or  lodges;  these 
are  intended  for  the  accommodation  of  the  sportsmen  when 
a  skall  takes  place;  that  in  the  centre  is  reserved  for  the 
use  of  such  parts  of  the  ro}^al  family  as  may  think  proper 
to  participate  in  the  amusement. 

As  soon  as  the  snow  falls,  this  skall-plats  is  watched 
both  night  and  day  by  persons  appointed  for  the  purpose. 
When,  therefore,  it  is  discovered  by  the  tracks  that  a  suf- 
ficient number  of  Wolves  are  congregated  at  the  carrion,  a 
singular  expedient  is  adopted  to  prevent  those  animals 
again  retreating  from  the  area. 

This  is  effected  by  extending  a  piece,  or  rather  many 
pieces  of  canvass  (Jagttyg,)  on  poles  previously  driven 
into  the  ground  for  the  purpose,  around  the  whole  skall- 
plats.  On  this  are  painted,  in  very  glaring  colours,  the 
heads  of  men,  animals,  &c.  If  the  Wolves  be  once  sur- 
rounded by  this  artificial  barrier,  it  is  said  that  the  hideous 
figures,  thus  dangling  in  the  wind,  usually  deter  those  ani- 
mals from  leaving  the  place. 

As  every  thing  is  in  readiness  on  the  spot,  this  operation 
ought  not  to  occup}'^  more  than  two  hours:  when  it  is  com- 
pleted, information  is  sent  off  to  the  authorities,  and  the 
requisite  number  of  people  to  form  the  cordon  is  instantly 
ordered  out. 

When  the  men  are  assembled,  a  line  of  circumvallation 
is  at  once  formed  about  the  area.  The  nets  are  now  set  up 
around  the  smaller  end  of  the  skall-plats;  these  may  be 
about  seven  feet  in  height,  and  may  extend  for  one  thou- 
sand, or  one  thousand  five  hundred  paces  in  length.  The 
people  at  tliis  point  remain  stationary,  whilst  those  who 
are  placed  at  the  broader  extremity  of  the  figure  advance 
upon  their  comrades.     There  are  several  pathways  across 


the  plats,  cut  through  the  trees,  and  on  reaching  these  the 
driving  division  halts  and  rectifies  disorders.  Thus  the 
Wolves,  or  other  wild  beasts,  are  gradually  forced  towards 
the  skreens,  or  lodges,  where  they  ai'e  of  course  readily 
slaughtered. 

The  above  plan  of  killing  Wolves  in  the  winter  season  is 
adopted  in  many  parts  of  Sweden. 

Mr.  Greiff  has  treated  rather  fully  upon  the  several  ways 
in  which  Wolves  may  be  destroyed.  I  subjoin  a  few  of 
that  gentleman's  observations  regarding  the  winter-skalls. 

"  The  inducement  to  form  a  place  of  lure,  must  be  de- 
rived from  the  reports  which  come  in  to  the  governor  from 
the  county,  of  the  damage  done  by  wild  beasts  during  tlie 
summer. 

"When  the  Ofwer  Jagmastare,  or  head  forest  ranger,  has 
received  intelligence  on  the  preceding  point,  he  examines 
the  woods  in  those  tracts  where  the  Wolves  have  done 
most  damage,  and  have  probably  whelped,  and  makes 
choice  of  the  most  suitable  spot  on  which  a  place  of  lure 
can  be  formed. 

"A  suitable  spot  means  one  which  is  covered  with  a 
tolerably  thick  wood  of  large  trees,  especially  spruce, 
where  the  ground  is  undulating,  and  which  contains  fens 
and  mosses ;  and  of  such  great  extent,  that  the  pathway 
(Skallgatan)  does  not  pass  over  fields  or  plains  which  pre- 
vent the  tracing  of  the  animals,  after  a  fall  of  snow  or  sleet. 
The  wood  must  be  left  quiet  from  passengers,  or  woods- 
men, during  the  time  of  hunting,  or,  in  other  words,  the 
winter  season;  and  should  be  situated  near  the  centre  of 
the  parish,  whose  peasants  are  to  form  the  skall.  A  cot- 
tage should  be  near  the  place,  that  the  under-huntsmen  may 
find  quarters,  and  have  opportunity  to  call  up  in  haste  the 
men  employed  to  fasten  on  the  Jagttyg,  or  hunting-cloth, 
by  which  the  daily  watch  of  a  whole  division  of  the  coun- 
try for  this  purpose  will  be  avoided. 

"The  hewing  down  of  the  trees,  for  the  purpose  of 
forming  the  skall-plats,  or  place  of  lure,  should  take  place 
in  the  month  of  August  or  September,  when  the  assistance 
of  the  authorities  must  be  required.  If  the  wood  is  not  of 
the  thickest  and  heaviest  kind,  the  skall-plats  should  be 
ready  in  two  to  three  days,  with  thirty  to  forty  labourers 
per  day." 

Mr.  Greiff  then  describes  the  manner  in  which  the  skall- 
plats  is  to  be  prepared ;  but  as  the  particulars  would  proba- 
bly prove  little  interesting  to  the  reader,  I  have  thought  it 
best  to  omit  them. 

Mr.  Greiff  goes  on  to  say  :  "  When  the  skall-plats  is 
ready,  it  must  be  kept  undisturbed  by  the  woodsmen  and 
from  all  noise. 

"  In  the  month  of  October,  when  the  peasants  begin  to 
kill  their  worn-out  horses,  the  head  ranger  gives  them  inti- 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY, 


mation  tliat  tliey  shall,  in  conformity  to  orders  from  au- 
thority, transport  them  to  the  hunting  or  lure-place,  and 
give  the  necessary  orders  for  their  skinning,  and  also  that 
a  huntsman  is  at  hand  to  direct  that  the  carrion  should  be 
laid  in  the  proper  place. 

"  As  soon  as  the  ground  is  frozen,  the  hunting-cloth  is 
brought  out,  which  must  be  smoothed  well  down  and 
beaten  with  fir  branches,  so  that  all  shall  be  in  order  for 
the  first  falling  snow;  for  the  hunts  which  can  be  formed 
by  the  traces  on  the  first  snow,  or  before  Christmas,  are 
the  surest. 

'<  Two  huntsmen  must  be  ordered  to  keep  watch  at  the 
skall-plats,  the  day  on  which  the  snow  has  fallen;  and 
they  should  go  round  it  three  times  a  day,  morning  and 
evening,  and  once  during  the  njght  with  a  lantern  of  tin, 
made  so  that  it  only  throws  light  from  the  bottom;  the 
marks  of  the  animals  going  in  and  out  are  to  be  carefully 
noted  each  time,  and  written  down  in  a  journal,  and 
whether  they  follow  each  other  in  numbers,  or  go  singly. 
<'  An  experienced  huntsman  will  soon  discover  at  what 
time  the  animals  visit  the  carrion;  the  8th,  11th,  and  14th 
day  is  usually  the  period,  after  they  have  once  eaten  of  it. 
It  happens  that  Wolves,  early  in  winter,  get  into  the  skall- 
plats  and  lie  there  several  days,  without  their  traces  being 
discovered;  and  on  such  occasions,  it  is  necessary  to  drive 
them  gently  out  again,  in  order  to  ascertain  their  number. 
"  Each  time  of  going  round  the  area,  every  track  is  to  be 
swept  out  with  a  long  broom;  and  if  the  huntsman  at  any 
time  have  occasion  to  step  out  of  the  pathway  (Skallgatan,) 
the  marks  should  be  immediately  swept  out.  Birds  of 
prey,  such  as  ravens  and  crows,  must  not  be  frightened 
away,  because  they  entice  the  wild  beasts  by  their  cries, 
and  give  them  confidence. 

"The  huntsmen  examine  each  his  side  of  the  skall- 
plats  :  should  it  be  found,  when  they  meet,  that  traces  of 
animals  having  entered  are  sufficiently  numerous  to  fasten 
up  the  hunting-cloths,  the  men  for  that  purpose  are  called 
out  immediately,  and  the  fastening  is  to  be  executed  with 
all  possible  expedition,  and  the  whole  ought  to  be  finished 
within  two  hours. 

"  The  fastening  ought  to  commence  either  at  the  top  or 
at  the  bottom  of  the  skall-plats,  where  two  rolls  of  cloth 
should  be  lying  ready :  one  man  unloosens  the  roll — the 
other  carries  the  pole  on  which  it  is  wound: — they  advance 
along  the  line,  unwinding  as  they  go.  The  roll  should  be 
wound  round  the  pole,  so  that  it  unwinds  correctly  and 
easily.  A  third  man  fastens  the  cloth  round  the  end  of 
each  stake.  When  the  hunting-cloth  is  fastened  up,  the 
men  so  employed  return  each  along  his  allotted  distance, 
and  rectifies  what  he  finds  amiss:  the  pieces  of  cloth  ought 
to  hang  three  feet  from  the  ground.     The  huntsmen  then 


reconnoitre  the  skall-plats,  to  ascertain  whether  the  ani- 
mals have  escaped  during  the  fastening;  if  that  be  the  case, 
the  hunting-cloths  are  immediately  taken  down,  wound  up, 
and  laid  in  their  places. 

"  When  it  is  found  that  the  animals  are  enclosed,  mes- 
sengers, who  ought  to  be  always  in  readiness,  should  be 
immediately  despatched,  to  apprise  the  people  of  the  time 
of  assembling  for  the  hunt,  and  of  the  number  required, 
according  to  the  size  of  the  skall-plats,  reckoning  eight, 
and  at  the  utmost  ten,  hunting  paces  between  each  person. 
"From  the  moment  it  is  ascertained  that  the  animals 
are  enclosed,  and  until  the  hunt  takes  place,  the  utmost 
silence  should  be  observed  at  and  about  the  skall-plats. 

"  When  the  people  are  assembled,  and  the  numbers 
communicated  to  the  head  ranger,  they  are  to  advance 
silently  to  the  skall-plats:  they  are  to  be  formed  in  two 
divisions,  either  at  the  top  or  at  the  bottom.  A  huntsman 
goes  before  each  division,  and  a  huntsman  after.  They 
place  each  peasant  in  his  proper  situation,  and  inform  him 
what  he  is  to  attend  to,  namely,  to  stand  on  the  outside 
of  the  hunting-cloths ;  to  remain  silent ;  and  not  to  go 
from  his  post:  but  if  the  animals  show  themselves,  he  is  to 
shake  and  strike  against  the  cloths  with  his  hunting-staff  or 
spear. 

"  The  skalfogdar,  or  subordinate  ofiicers  of  the  hunt, 
are  to  be  chosen  from  trusty  people,  who  are  acquainted 
with  the  locality ;  soldiers  are  preferable :  these,  together 
with  the  superfluous  huntsmen,  are  to  be  distributed  among 
the  body  which  is  to  advance,  and  should,  for  the  preser- 
vation of  better  order,  be  distinguished  by  some  badge. 

"  Should  there  be  any  of  the  Royal  Family  present,  the 
head-ranger  himself  should  advance  in  the  centre ;  other- 
wise, a  trusty  huntsman,  who  should  preserve  a  steady 
pace  in  his  advance. 

"  The  driving  division  ought  to  advance  slowly,  because 

too  much  haste  brings  the  people  sooner  into  disorder. 

The  movement  ought  to  be  effected  without  shots  or  cries; 

only  they  are  to  strike  the  trees  with  their  hunting-poles, 

and  examine  carefully  if  any  animal  has  hidden  himself,  or 

lies  dead. 

"  When  the  people  have  advanced  to  tlie  farthest  point, 

the  wild  animals  which  have  been  shot  are  to  be  conveyed 

to  the  King's  skreen. 

"  No  otlier  than  good  marksmen  shall  be  allowed  to 

carry  a  gun." 

Mr.  Greiff  has  given  some  farther  directions  regarding 

the  manner  in  which  the  Wolf-skall  is  to  be  organized  and 

conducted. 

"  During  my  stay  at  Stockholm,  I  visited  the  skall-plats 

of  which  I  have  just  been  speaking: — this  was  along  with 

Mr.   Arenius,    the  head-ranger  of  the  district,  who  was 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


so  obliging  as  to  explain  the  nature  and  purport  of  every 
thing. 

On  this  occasion,  I  was  in  company  with  Count  Charles 
Frederic  Piper,  a  Swedish  nobleman  of  high  rank.  The 
Count  held  the  appointment  of  Forste  Hofjagmastare, 
which  may  be  rendered  in  French,  (for  in  English  I  know 
of  no  equivalent,)  Grand  Veneur  de  la  covr.  As  this  is 
the  second  office  in  the  gift  of  the  Swedish  Crown,  in  re- 
gard to  the  forests,  I  was  of  course  at  head  quarters  for 
sporting  information.  To  this  accomplished  nobleman  I 
am  under  the  greatest  obligations,  as  well  for  his  attentions 
whilst  I  remained  at  Stockholm,  as  at  an  after  period, 
when  I  partook  of  the  hospitalities  of  his  princely  resi- 
dence at  Lofstad. 

At  this  time,  the  ground  was  covered  with  snow  to  the 
depth  of  six  or  eight  inches:  there  were  then,  as  we  saw 
by  their  tracks,  one,  if  not  two  Wolves  feeding  upon  the 
carrion.  As  there  were  more  of  those  animals,  however, 
known  to  be  in  the  vicinity,  which,  it  was  daily  expected, 
might  follow  the  example  of  their  comrades, — and  as  it 
was  contrary  to  rule  to  call  out  the  people,  unless  a  greater 
number  were  within  the  skall-plats,  INIr.  Arenius  did  not 
feel  himself  justified  in  taking  this  step,  which  he  much 
regretted  as  he  was  very  anxious  to  gratify  my  curiosity, 
in  witnessing  the  destruction  of  some  of  these  pernicious 
beasts.  Though  no  chasse  took  place  whilst  I  remained 
in  the  capital,  in  the  commencement  of  the  following 
April,  five  wolves  were  one  day  slaughtered  in  this  very 
skall-plats. 

Very  considerable  numbers  of  those  animals  are  some- 
times killed  in  the  winter-skalls:  I  have  heard  of  as  many 
as  fifteen  being  shot  in  a  day.  On  these  occasions,  wolves 
never,  I  believe,  turn  upon  their  assailants ;  but,  when 
they  find  escape  impossible,  they  generally  skulk,  and  en- 
deavour to  hide  themselves.  Mr.  Greiflfsays,  they  do  not 
attempt  to  leap  over  the  nets,  but  always  endeavour  to 
creep  under  them. 

No  one  is  allowed  to  use  balls  at  a  Wolf-skall,  for  fear 
of  accidents;  these  animals  are  therefore  destroj^ed  with 
large  shot. 

Anecdotes  of  Wolves. — As  usually  happens  when 
the  weather  is  severe,  the  Wolves  now  became  rather  trou- 
blesome. Indeed,  I  heard  of  their  committing  many  de- 
predations in  different  parts  of  the  surrounding  country: 
for  this  reason,  I  went  on  one  or  two  little  expeditions,  un- 
der the  idea  that  I  might  be  enabled  to  destroy  some  of 
tliose  voracious  animals. 

Wolves  are  very  partial  to  a  pig.     My  plan  of  proceed- 
ing, therefore,  was  this:  I  caused  one  of  these  animals,  of 
a  small  size,  to  be  sewed  up  in  a  sack,  with  the  exception 
of  his  snout;  and  I  then  placed  him  in  my  sledge.     To  the 
I 


back  of  this  vehicle  I  fastened  a  rope  of  about  fifty  feet  in 
length,  to  the  extreme  end  of  which  was  attached  a  small 
bundle  of  straw,  covered  with  a  black  sheepskin ;  this, 
when  the  sledge  was  in  motion,  dangled  about  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  be  a  good  representation  of  the  pig.  Thus 
prepared,  I  drove  in  the  night  time  through  such  districts 
as  were  known  to  be  frequented  by  Wolves.  To  attract 
these  animals  towards  us  we  kept  occasionally  pinching 
the  poor  pig,  who,  not  liking  this  treatment,  made  the 
forest  ring  again  with  his  squeaks. 

This  plan  of  shooting  Wolves  with  the  assistance  of  a 
pig  is  not  very  unfrequently  resorted  to  in  Scandinavia, 
when  the  weather  is  severe.  If  those  dangerous  animals 
happen  to  hear  the  cries  of  the  pig,  it  is  said  they  almost 
always  approach  immediately  near  to  the  sledge,  when  it 
is  not,  of  course,  difficult  to  kill  them. 

All  my  expeditions,  however,  proved  unsuccessful;  for, 
owing  to  the  wandering  habits  of  the  Wolves,  I  was  never 
able  to  fall  in  with  them.  On  some  of  these  occasions  I 
have  suffered  a  good  deal  from  cold ;  as,  from  the  necessity 
that  existed  of  being  always  ready  for  action,  it  did  not 
answer  to  be  hampered  with  too  much  clothing.  My  poor 
pig,  I  remember,  had  once  his  ears  so  hard  frozen,  that 
they  might  have  almost  been  broken  off  in  the  same  man- 
ner as  so  much  glass. 

About  a  week  prior  to  this  time,  a  peasant  on  his  return 
home  from  Amal,  one  evening  tied  his  horse  up  to  his 
door,  whilst  he  carried  the  harness  within  the  house.  At 
this  moment,  a  number  of  Wolves  made  their  appearance, 
when  the  frightened  animal  broke  his  bridle,  and  ran  off  at 
the  top  of  his  speed.  The  Wolves,  however,  gave  chase 
to  the  horse,  and  soon  succeeded  in  coming  up  with  him  in 
the  forest,  when  they  quickly  destr03^ed  him. 

During  my  excursion,  I  visited  the  spot  where  the  poor 
animal  met  his  doom,  but,  with  the  exception  of  a  bone  or 
two  that  were  strewed  about,  not  a  vestige  of  the  carcase 
was  to  be  seen ;  the  Wolves  having,  by  this  time,  devoured 
the  whole  of  it.  There  was  some  blood  on  the  snow, 
which  was  trodden  down  in  the  vicinity,  in  the  same  man- 
ner as  if  it  had  been  gone  over  by  a  flock  of  sheep. 

Though  I  was  generally  quite  alone,  with  the  exception 
of  my  driver,  during  these  expeditions,  I  do  not  apprehend 
I  ran  much  personal  risk;  the  greatest  danger  was  from 
the  horse  proving  unsteady,  in  the  event  of  the  Wolves 
making  their  appearance.  In  that  case,  the  sledge  would 
not  improbably  have  been  overturned,  when  I,  in  conse- 
quence, might  have  been  left  to  my  fate.  From  the 
Wolves  themselves,  under  other  circumstances,  I  enter- 
tained little  apprehension,  as  I  was  usually  armed  with  a 
good  cutlass,  and  more  than  one  gun. 

It  is  said,  that  people  have  incurred  some  jeopardy  when 


34 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY. 


on  these  expeditions.  The  following  anecdote  was  related 
to  me  by  Mr.  Garberg,  at  Gefle.  Of  the  truth  of  the  story, 
which  occurred  near  to  that  place,  that  gentleman  did  not 
seem  to  entertain  a  doubt. 

About  twenty  years  ago,  during  a  very  severe  winter, 
and  when  there  were  known  to  be  many  Wolves  roaming 
about  the  country,  a  Captain  Nordenalder,  together  with 
several  companions,  started  off  on  an  excursion  similar  to 
those  I  have  been  describing. 

The  party  were  provided  with  a  large  sledge,  such  as  are 
used  in  Sweden  to  convey  coke  to  the  furnaces,  a  pig,  and 
an  ample  supply  of  guns,  ammunition,  &c.  They  drove 
on  to  a  great  piece  of  water  which  was  then  frozen  over,  in 
the  vicinity  of  Forsbacka,  and  at  no  great  distance  from 
the  town  of  Geflc.  Here  they  began  to  pinch  ■'he  ears, 
&c.  of  the  pig,  wlio  of  course  squeaked  out  tremendously. 

This,  as  they  anticipated,  soon  drew  a  multitude  of  fam- 
ished Wolves  about  their  sledge.  When  these  had  ap- 
proached within  range,  the  party  opened  a  fire  upon  them, 
and  destroyed  or  mutilated  several  of  the  number.  All 
the  animals  that  were  either  killed  or  wounded  were 
quickly  torn  to  pieces  and  devoured  by  their  companions. 
This,  as  I  have  observed,  is  said  invariably  to  be  the  case, 
if  there  be  many  congregated  together. 

The  blood  with  which  the  ravenous  beasts  had  now  glut- 
ted themselves,  instead  of  satiating  their  hunger,  only 
served  to  make  them  more  savage  and  ferocious  than  be- 
fore; for,  in  spite  of  the  fire  kept  up  by  the  party,  they 
advanced  close  to  the  sledge  with  the  apparent  intention  of 
making  an  instant  attack.  To  preserve  their  lives,  there- 
fore, the  Captain  and  his  friends  threw  the  pig  on  the  ice; 
this,  which  was  quickly  devoured  by  the  Wolves,  had  the 
effect,  for  the  moment,  of  diverting  their  fury  to  another 
object. 

Whilst  this  was  going  forward,  the  horse,  driven  to  des- 
peration by  the  near  approach  of  the  ferocious  animals, 
struggled  and  plunged  so  violently,  that  he  broke  the  shafts 
to  pieces:  being  thus  disengaged  from  the  vehicle,  the  poor 
animal  galloped  off,  and,  as  the  story  goes,  succeeded  in 
making  good  his  escape. 

When  the  pig  was  devoured,  which  was  probably  hardly 
the  work  of  a  minute,  the  Wolves  again  threatened  to 
attack  the  party;  and  as  the  destruction  of  a  few  out  of  so 
immense  a  drove  as  was  then  assembled,  only  served  to 
render  the  survivors  more  blood-thirsty,  the  Captain  and 
his  friends  now  turned  their  sledge  bottom  up,  and  thus 
took  refuge  beneath  its  friendly  shelter. 

In  this  situation,  it  is  said,  they  remained  for  many 
hours,  the  Wolves  in  that  while  making  repeated  attempts 
to  get  at  them,  by  tearing  the  sledge  with  their  teeth.  At 
length,  however,  assistance  arrived,  and  they  were  then, 


to  their  great  joy,  relieved  from  their  most  perilous  situ- 
ation. 

Captain  Eurenius,  when  he  was  quite  a  boy,  in  com- 
pany with  a  brother  who  was  younger  than  himself,  once 
went  on  a  similar  expedition  to  those  of  which  I  have  been 
speaking. 

It  was  in  the  depth  of  winter,  the  cold  at  the  time  being 
very  severe,  when  these  striplings  proceeded  in  their 
sledge  to  an  inlet  of  the  Wenern,  which  was  then  sheeted 
with  ice,  and  which  was  known  to  be  much  frequented  by 
Wolves. 

They  had  a  pig  along  with  them,  as  usual,  who,  by  the 
application  of  a  corking-pin,  they  soon  caused  to  open  his 
pipes  in  such  a  manner  that  he  might  have  been  heard  at 
two  or  three  miles  distance.  These  cries  soon  attracted 
the  Wolves  to  the  spot:  when  they  had  approached  to 
within  a  short  distance  of  the  sledge.  Captain  Eurenius  dis- 
charged his  piece,  and  severely  wounded,  as  he  supposed, 
one  of  the  number. 

The  report  of  the  gun,  however,  caused  the  horse  to 
take  fright,  when  capsizing  the  sledge,  and  smashing  the 
shafts  to  pieces,  he  went  off  at  full  gallop,  with  the  latter 
dangling  at  his  heels. 

The  Captain  and  his  brother  were  now  in  a  rather  awk- 
ward predicament:  they  had,  besides,  lost  their  ammuni- 
tion, and  had  only  one  loaded  gun  left.  Leaving  the  pig 
in  the  sledge  to  its  fate,  they  therefore  faced  towards  their 
home,  from  which  they  were  distant  several  miles,  at  their 
best  pace.  In  this  while,  as  it  may  be  supposed,  they  cast 
many  an  anxious  look  behind,  to  see  if  the  Wolves  were  in 
pursuit. 

These  fears,  however,  were  at  length  relieved;  for,  after 
proceeding  some  way,  they  met  their  father  and  a  posse  of 
people  advancing  to  their  assistance ;  these  had  seen  the 
horse  come  galloping  home  with  the  broken  shafts;  when, 
knowing  the  nature  of  the  service  on  which  these  two  ad- 
venturers had  been  engaged,  as  well  as  the  direction  they 
had  taken,  they  lost  no  time  in  hastening  towards  the  spot. 
The  meeting  was  a  joyful  one;  the  father  being  not  a  little 
delighted  thus  to  find  his  sons  in  safety. 

The  whole  party  then  repaired  to  the  scene  of  action: 
here  they  found  the  pig  had  been  taken  from  the  sledge 
and  devoured.  This  also  seemed  to  have  been  the  fate  of 
a  wolf, — the  same,  it  was  supposed,  that  Captain  E.  fired 
at;  for  some  pieces  of  skin,  and  bones,  of  one  of  those 
ferocious  animals,  were  found  near  to  the  spot. 

During  severe  weather,  when  Wolves  are  famishing  with 
hunger,  their  natural  timidity,  as  I  have  said,  forsakes 
them,  and  then  they  oftentimes  conduct  their  attacks  in  the 
most  daring  manner.  Among  several  instances  of  the  kind 
which  have  come  to  my  knowledge,  I  select  the  following: 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


In  the  depth  of  a  hard  winter,  many  years  ago,  Captain 
Eurenius  and  a  friend  were  one  evening  transversing  the 
Wenern  lake,  which  was  then  firmly  frozen  over;  this  was 
at  no  great  distance  from  the  town  of  Wenersborg,  situated, 
as  I  have  said,  at  the  southern  extremity  of  that  noble  ex- 
panse of  water. 

They  were  in  a  sledge,  and  jogging  quietly  along,  when, 
suddenly,  their  horse  pulled  up,  and  became  violently 
alarmed  and  agitated.  For  a  while  they  were  at  a  loss  to 
divine  the  reason  why  the  animal  should  be  so  much 
affrighted,  but  on  looking  ahead,  they  discovered  a  drove 
of  twelve  or  fourteen  Wolves;  these  presently  approached 
to  within  a  very  short  distance  of  their  vehicle,  and  seemed 
to  threaten  them  with  an  immediate  attack. 

Very  unfortunately,  they  had  no  gun  along  with  them  on 
this  occasion;  but  both  were  armed  with  good  swords. 
Captain  E.  therefore  took  the  reins,  whilst  his  friend  jump- 
ing out  of  the  sledge,  posted  himself,  sabre  in  hand,  imme- 
diately in  front  of  the  horse;  by  these  means  their  ferocious 
assailants  were  kept  at  bay.  Finding  himself  thus  protect- 
ed, the  poor  animal  again  moved  forward. 

The  man  now  kept  advancing  a  pace  or  two  a-head  of 
the  horse,  brandishing  his  sword  all  the  while  to  drive  off 
the  Wolves;  these  were  never  more  than  a  very  short  dis- 
tance from  him,  and  often  so  near,  that  he  could  almost 
touch  them  with  the  point  of  his  weapon. 

In  this  manner,  the  two  travellers  proceeded  for  five  or 
six  miles,  and  until  they  reached  the  very  outskirts  of  the 
town  of  Wenersborg,  when  the  Wolves  thought  it  prudent 
to  beat  a  retreat. 

Captain  E.  said,  moreover,  that  the  Wolves  never  attempt- 
ed to  get  into  the  rear  of  the  sledge,  but  always  kept  in  ad- 
vance of  it.  This,  if  it  be  practicable,  is  usually  the  case 
witli  those  animals;  and  is  supposed  to  be  owing  to  their 
dread  of  falling  into  an  ambuscade. 

Some  fifty  years  ago,  when  quite  a  boy.  Captain  Eure- 
nius was  one  starlight  and  very  cold  night,  returning  from 
a  dance  in  the  vicinity  of  Wenersborg.  It  was  Christmas- 
time, and  there  were  fifteen  or  sixteen  sledges  in  company: 
most  of  the  horses  were  provided  with  such  bells  as  those 
of  which  I  have  made  mention.  In  the  middle  of  the 
cavalcade  was  a  sledge  occupied  by  a  lady;  at  the  back  of 
the  vehicle,  as  is  frequently  the  case,  sat  the  servant,  who 
was  driving;  whilst  on  a  bear-skin,  which  covered  her  feet, 
a  favourite  lap-dog  was  reposing.  In  passing  through  a 
wood,  however,  and  in  spite  of  the  jingling  of  the  bells,  &c., 
a  large  Wolf  suddenly  sprang  from  a  thicket,  when,  seizing 
the  poor  dog,  he  leaped  over  the  sledge,  and  was  out  of  sight 
in  a  thick  brake  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  wood  in  the 
course  of  a  few  seconds. 

A  somewhat  similar  anecdote  to  the  above  was  related  to 
me  by  Lieutenant  Oldenburg. 


Two  of  his  friends,  whose  names  I  forget,  when  on  a  jour- 
ney in  the  winter-time,  were  accompanied  by  a  favourite 
dog,  which  was  following  immediately  in  the  rear  of  the 
sledge.  All  of  a  sudden,  two  famished  Wolves  dashed  at 
the  dog,  who,  to  save  himself,  ran  to  the  side  of  the  vehicle, 
and  jumped  over  the  shafts  between  the  horse  and  the  body 
of  the  carriage.  The  Wolves,  nothing  deterred,  had  the 
audacity  to  take  a  similar  leap;  when,  as  ill-luck  would 
have  it,  they  got  hold  of  the  poor  animal. 

The  dog,  however,  was  large  and  powerful,  and  his  neck, 
besides,  was  armed  with  one  of  those  formidable  spiked 
collars  so  common  to  be  seen  in  Sweden.  From  these 
causes,  he  was  enabled  to  escape  from  the  fangs  of  his  assail- 
ants, when  he  at  once  sprang  into  the  sledge,  as  if  to  claim 
protection  from  his  masters. 

Here,  however,  the  Wolves  were  afraid  to  pursue  him, 
though,  for  a  considerable  distance,  they  still  continued  to 
follow  the  vehicle.  On  this  occasion,  both  of  Lieutenant 
O.'s  friends  were  unarmed,  and,  in  consequence,  the  beasts 
escaped  with  impunity. 

Another  anecdote,  of  rather  a  curious  nature,  was  told  me 
by  an  acquaintance  of  mine  in  Wermeland. 

A  peasant  was  one  day  crossing  a  large  lake  in  his  sledge, 
when  he  was  attacked  by  a  drove  of  Wolves.  This  fright- 
ened the  horse  so  much,  that  he  went  off  at  full  speed. 
There  was  at  this  time  a  loose  rope  hanging  from  the  back 
of  the  vehicle,  that  had  been  used  for  binding  hay,  or  other 
purposes:  to  the  end  of  this  a  noose  happened  to  be  attach- 
ed. Though  this  was  not  intended  to  catch  a  Wolf,  it 
fortunately  effected  that  desirable  object;  for  one  of  the  fe- 
rocious animals  getting  his  feet  entangled  within  it,  he  was 
presently  destroyed,  owing  to  the  pace  at  which  the  horse 
was  proceeding. 

The  poor  peasant,  at  last,  reached  a  place  of  safety. 
Though  he  had  been  dreadfully  frightened  during  the  chase, 
he  not  only  found  himself  much  sooner  at  the  end  of  his 
journey  than  he  had  expected,  but  richer  by  the  booty  he 
had  thus  unexpectedly  obtained.  The  skin  of  a  Wolf,  in 
Sweden,  is  worth,  at  this  time,  about  fifteen  rix-dollars,  or 
as  many  shillings. 

The  following  circumstance,  showing  the  savage  nature 
of  the  Wolf,  and  interesting  in  more  than  one  point  of  view, 
was  related  to  me  by  a  gentleman  of  rank  attached  to  the 
embassy  at  St.  Petersburg:  it  occurred  in  Russia  some  few 
years  ago. 

A  woman,  accompanied  by  three  of  her  children,  were 
one  day  in  a  sledge,  when  they  were  pursued  by  a  number 
of  Wolves.  On  this,  she  put  her  horse  into  a  gallop,  and 
drove  towards  her  home,  from  which  she  was  not  far  dis- 
tant, with  all  possible  speed.  All,  however,  would  not 
avail,  for  the  ferocious  animals  gained  upon  her,  and,  at  last, 
were  on  the  point  of  rushing  on  the  sledge.     For  the  pre- 


servation  of  her  own  life  and  that  of  the  remaining  children, 
the  poor,  frantic  creature  now  took  one  of  her  babes,  and 
cast  it  a  prey  to  her  blood-thirsty  pursuers.  This  stopped 
their  career  for  a  moment;  but,  after  devouring  the  little 
innocent,  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  her  fero- 
cious assailants  another  of  her  offspring.  To  cut  short  this 
melancholy  story,  her  third  child  was  sacrificed  in  a  similar 
manner. 

Soon  after  this,  the  wretched  being,  whose  feelings  may 
more  easily  be  conceived  than  described,  reached  her  home 
in  safety.  Here  she  related  what  had  happened,  and  en- 
deavoured to  palliate  her  own  conduct,  by  describing  the 
dreadful  alternative  to  which  she  had  been  reduced.  A 
peasant,  however,  who  was  among  the  by-standers,  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. 

This  man  was  committed  to  prison,  but  the  Emperor 
subsequently  gave  him  a  pardon. 

This  gentleman  related  to  me  another  curious  circum- 
stance regarding  Wolves:  it  happened  at  no  great  distance 
from  St.  Petersburg,  only  two  years  previously. 

A  peasant,  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  them- 
selves to  be  slaughtered  almost  without  making  resistance. 
It  is  said,  that  the  mere  act  of  striking  a  light  with  flint 
and  steel,  has  often  the  effect  of  intimidating  a  Wolf;  and 
that  the  rattling  of  a  chain  not  unfrequently  answers  the 
like  purpose.  In  the  event  of  a  person,  when  unarmed, 
being  attacked  by  these  blood-thirsty  brutes,  these  things 
are  worth  knowing;  for,  though  apparently  trifling  in  them- 
selves, they  might  be  the  means  of  saving  his  life. 

In  some  parts  of  Scandinavia,  when  people  are  travelling 
during  the  winter-time  over  extended  plains,  lakes,  &c. 
which  are  known  to  be  much  frequented  by  Wolves,  it  is 
the  custom  to  attach  a  long  rope  to  the  back  of  the  sledge; 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY, 

the  serpentine  motion  that  this  makes,  when  the  vehicle  is 
proceeding,  has,  it  is  said,  the  effect  of  deterring  these  ani- 
mals from  making  their  attacks. — Lloyd's  Field  Sports. 


INFLUENCE  OF  MUSIC  UPON  MICE. 

The    following   anecdote   of  the    influence  of  music 
upon  a  Mouse,  is  related  by  Dr.  Archer,  of  Norfolk. 

"On  arainy  evening  in  the  winter  of  1S15,"  says  this  gen- 
tleman, "  as  I  was  alone  in  my  chamber,  I  took  up  my  flute, 
and  commenced  playing.  In  a  few  minutes  my  attention 
was  directed  to  a  mouse  that  I  saw  creeping  from  a  hole, 
and  advancing  towards  the  chair  I  was  sitting  in;  I  ceased 
playing,  and  it  ran  precipitately  back  to  its  hole:  I  began 
again  shortly  afterwards,  and  was  much  surprised  to  see  it 
re-appear,  and  take  its  old  position.  The  appearance  of  the 
little  animal  was  truly  delightful — it  couched  itself  on  the 
floor,  shut  its  eyes,  and  appeared  to  be  in  ecstasy:  I  ceased 
playing,  and  it  instantly  disappeared  again.  This  experi- 
ment I  repeated  frequently,  with  the  same  success,  observ- 
ing that  it  was  always  differently  affected,  as  the  music  va- 
ried from  the  slow  and  plaintive  to  the  brisk  or  lively. 
It  finally  went  off,  and  all  my  art  could  not  entice  it  to 
return." 

A  more  remarkable  instance  of  this  fact  was  recently  in- 
serted in  the  Philadelphia  Medical  and  PhysicalJournal, 
communicated  by  Dr.  Cramer,  of  Jefferson  county.  The 
circumstance,  he  says,  was  related  to  him  by  a  gentleman 
of  undoubted  veracity. 

"  One  evening  in  the  month  of  December,  as  a  few  offi- 
cers on  board  a  British  man  of  war,  in  the  harbour  of  Ports- 
mouth, were  seated  round  the  fire,  one  of  them  began  to 
play  a  plaintive  air  on  the  violin.  He  had  scarcely  per- 
formed ten  minutes,  when  a  mouse,  apparently  frantic, 
made  its  appearance  in  the  centre  of  the  floor,  near  the 
large  table  which  usually  stands  in  the  ward  room.  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  extatic  delight.  It  was  observed,  that  in  pro- 
portion to  the  gradation  of  the  tones  to  the  soft  point,  the 
feelings  of  the  animal  appeared  to  be  increased,  and  vice 
versa.  After  performing  actions,  which  an  animal  so  di- 
minutive would  at  first  sight  seem  incapable  of,  the  little 
creature,  to  the  astonishment  of  the  delighted  spectators, 
suddenly  ceased  to  move,  fell  down,  and  expired,  without 
evincing  any  symptoms  of  pain." — Sport.  Mag. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


QUAIL,  OR  PARTRIDGE. 
PERDIX  VIRGINIANUS. 

[Plate  IV. — Male  and  Female.] 
Arct.  Zool.  318,  No.  185.— Catesb.  App.  p.  \2.— Vir- 
ginian Quail,  TuRT.  Syst.  p.  460. — Maryland  Q. 
Ibid. — Le  Perdrix  d^Jimerique,  Briss.  i.  231. — Buff. 
ii.  447. —  Tetrao  Virginianus,  Linn.  Syst.  ed.  10,  p. 
161.  T.  Marilandicus,  id.  ib. — Perdix  Virginiana, 
Lath,  Lid.  Orn.  p.  650.  P.  Marilanda,  id.  p.  651. — 
Caille  de  la  Louisiane,  Buff.  PL  Enl.  149. — J. 
Doughty's   Collection. 

This  well-known  bird  is  a  general  inhabitant  of  North 
America,  from  the  Northern  parts  of  Canada  and  Nova 
Scotia,  in  which  latter  place  it  is  said  to  be  migratory,  to  the 
extremity  of  the  peninsula  of  Florida;  and  was  seen  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  Great  Osage  village,  in  the  interior  of 
Louisiana.  They  are  numerous  in  Kentucky  and  Ohio; 
Mr.  Pennant  remarks,  that  they  have  been  lately  intro- 
duced into  the  island  of  Jamaica,  where  they  appear  to 
thrive  greatly,  breeding  in  that  warm  climate  twice  in  the 
year.  Captain  Henderson  mentions  them  as  being  plenty 
near  the  Balize,  at  the  Bay  of  Honduras.  They  rarely  fre- 
quent the  forest,  and  are  most  numerous  in  the  vicinity 
of  well  cultivated  plantations,  where  grain  is  in  plenty. 
They,  however,  occasionally  seek  shelter  in  the  woods, 
perching  on  the  branches,  or  secreting  among  the  brush 
wood;  but  are  found  most  usually  in  open  fields,  or  along 
fences  sheltered  by  thickets  of  briars.  Where  they  are  not 
too  much  persecuted  by  the  sportsmen,  they  become  almost 
half  domesticated;  approach  the  barn,  particularly  in  win- 
ter, and  sometimes  in  that  severe  season  mix  with  the  poul- 
try, to  glean  up  a  subsistence.  They  remain  with  us  the 
whole  year,  and  often  suffer  extremely  by  long  hard  win- 
ters, and  deep  snows.  Indeed,  it  often  happens  that  whole 
coveys  are  found  frozen  to  death,  or  so  extremely  reduced, 
as  not  possessing  sufficient  power  to  fly.  An  instance  of 
this  kind  occurred  in  the  centre  of  the  city  of  Philadelphia. 
In  the  very  severe  winter  of  1828,  a  quantity  of  rubbish 
was  removed  from  the  large  lot  of  ground  at  the  corner  of 
Eleventh  and  Market  streets,  owned  by  S.  Girard,  esq.  un- 
der which  a  covey  of  Partridges  was  discovered  in  so  weak 
and  famished  a  state,  as  to  be  taken  by  the  hand.  These 
birds,  it  is  supposed,  were  hatched  in  this  lot  the  preceding 
summer,  as  persons  residing  in  that  vicinity  heard  them 
frequently  whistling  through  the  season.  During  these 
protracted  snows,  the  arts  of  man  combine  with  the  incle- 
mency of  the  season  for  their  destruction,  and  to  the  ravages 
of  the  gun  are  added  others  of  a  more  insidious  kind.  Traps 
are  placed  on  almost  every  plantation,  in  such  places  as 


they  are  known  to  frequent.  These  are  formed  of  lath, 
or  thinly  split  sticks,  somewhat  in  the  shape  of  an  obtuse 
cone,  laced  together  with  cord,  having  a  small  hole  at  top, 
with  a  sliding  lid,  to  take  out  the  game  by.  This  is  sup- 
ported by  the  common  figure  4  trigger,  and  grain  is  scat- 
tered below,  and  leading  to  the  place.  By  this  contrivance 
ten  or  fifteen  have  sometimes  been  taken  at  a  time.  But, 
a  more  barbarous,  and  as  equally  successful  a  mode  is  em- 
ployed by  many  to  entrap  them,  by  fixing  snoods  made  of 
horse  hair  across  the  paths  and  furrows  of  such  fields,  and 
thickets,  as  are  frequented  by  these  birds,  especially  their 
roosting  grounds.  This  is  done  by  driving  into  the  ground 
small  stakes,  about  ten  inches  in  length,  and  two  inches 
apart,  to  the  distance  of  five  or  six  feet,  similar  to  a  fence, 
leaving  the  spaces  where  the  snoods  are  suspended  much 
wider,  and  to  the  number,  perhaps,  of  four  or  five.  The 
Partridges,  in  running  the  path,  finds  this  impediment,  and 
attempt  to  pass  through  the  wider  spaces,  and  are  caught 
by  the  neck,  where  they  often  remain  in  this  cruel  and 
most  tormenting  situation  for  days.  These  are  sometimes 
brought  alive  to  market,  and  occasionally  bought  up  by 
sportsmen,  who,  if  the  season  be  very  severe,  sometimes 
preserve  and  feed  them  till  spring,  when  they  are  humanely 
turned  out  to  their  native  fields  again,  to  be  put  to  death,  at 
some  future  time,  secimdem  artem.  Between  the  months 
of  August  and  March,  great  numbers  of  these  birds  are 
brought  to  the  market  of  Philadelphia,  where  they  are  sold 
from  eight  to  eighteen  cents  a  piece. 

The  Quail  begins  to  build  early  in  May.  The  nest  is 
made  on  the  ground,  usually  at  the  bottom  of  a  thick  tuft  of 
grass  that  shelters  and  conceals  it.  The  materials  are 
leaves  and  fine  dry  grass,  in  considerable  quantity.  It  is 
well  covered  above,  and  an  opening  left  on  one  side  for  en- 
trance. The  female  lays  from  fifteen  to  twenty-four  eggs, 
of  a  pure  white  without  any  spots;  and  during  the  period 
of  incubation  are  remarkably  tenacious  of  their  nest,  for 
rather  than  forsake  it,  they  will  frequently  sacrifice  their 
lives,  and  it  is  by  no  means  an  uncommon  occurrence  for 
them  to  fall  victims  to  the  scythe.  The  time  of  incubation 
has  been  stated  to  me  by  various  persons  at  four  weeks, 
when  the  eggs  were  placed  under  the  domestic  hen.  The 
young  leave  the  nest  as  soon  as  they  are  freed  from  the 
shell,  and  are  conducted  about  in  search  of  food  by  the 
female;  are  guided  by  her  voice,  which  at  that  time  resem- 
bles the  twittering  of  young  chickens,  and  sheltered  by  her 
wings,  in  the  same  manner  as  those  of  the  domestic  fowl; 
but  with  all  that  secrecy  and  precaution  for  their  safety, 
which  their  helplessness  and  greater  danger  require.  In 
this  situation,  should  the  little  timid  family  be  unexpectedly 
surprised,  the  utmost  alarm  and  consternation  instantly 
prevail.      Sometimes,  when  an  enemy  approaches,  (espe- 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY, 


cially  the  sportsman's  dog,)  the  mother  will  instantly 
squat  herself,  and  collect  her  little  brood  under  her  wings 
for  protection,  and  at  this  time  she  will  remain  so  perfectly 
tranquil  as  to  permit  the  hand  almost  to  grasp  her,  before 
she  will  attempt  to  escape;  she  will  then  throw  herself  in 
the  path,  fluttering  along,  and  beating  the  ground  with  her 
wings,  as  if  sorely  wounded,  using  every  artifice  she  is 
master  of,  to  entice  the  passenger  in  pursuit  of  herself,  ut- 
tering at  the  same  time  certain  peculiar  notes  of  alarm, 
well  understood  by  the  young,  who  dive  separately  amongst 
the  grass,  and  secrete  themselves  till  the  danger  is  over; 
and  the  parent,  having  decoyed  the  pursuer  to  a  safe  dis- 
tance, returns,  by  a  circuitous  route,  to  collect  and  lead 
them  off.  This  well  known  manoeuvre,  which  nine  times 
in  ten  is  successful,  is  honourable  to  the  feelings  and  judg- 
ment of  the  bird,  but  a  severe  satire  on  man.  The  affec- 
tionate mother,  as  if  sensible  of  the  avaricious  cruelty  of 
his  nature,  tempts  him  with  a  larger  prize,  to  save  her 
more  helpless  offspring;  and  pays  him,  as  avarice  and 
cruelty  ought  always  to  be  paid,  with  mortification  and 
disappointment. 

The  eggs  of  the  Quail  have  been  frequently  placed  under 
the  domestic  hen,  and  hatched  and  reared  with  equal  suc- 
cess as  her  own ;  though,  generally  speaking,  the  young 
Partridges  being  more  restless  and  vagrant,  often  lose  them- 
selves, and  disappear.  The  hen  ought  to  be  a  particularly 
good  nurse,  not  at  all  disposed  to  ramble,  in  which  case 
they  are  very  easily  raised.  Those  that  survive,  acquire  all 
the  familiarity  of  common  chickens;  and  there  is  little 
doubt,  that  if  proper  measures  were  taken,  and  persevered 
in  for  a  few  years,  that  they  might  be  completely  domes- 
ticated. They  have  been  often  kept  during  the  first  sea- 
son, and  through  the  whole  of  the  winter,  but  have  uni- 
formly deserted  in  the  spring.  Two  young  Partridges 
that  were  brought  up  by  a  hen,  when  abandoned  by  her, 
associated  with  the  cows,  which  they  regularly  followed  to 
the  fields,  returned  with  them  when  they  came  home  in 
the  evening,  stood  by  them  while  they  were  milked,  and 
again  accompanied  them  to  the  pasture.  These  remained 
during  the  winter,  lodging  in  the  stable,  but  as  soon  as 
spring  came,  they  disappeared.  Of  this  fact  I  was  inform- 
ed by  a  very  respectable  lady,  by  whom  they  were  par- 
ticularly observed. 

It  has  been  frequently  asserted  to  me,  that  the  Quails 
lay  occasionally  in  each  other's  nests.  Though  I  have 
never  myself  seen  a  case  of  this  kind,  I  do  not  think  it 
altogether  improbable,  from  the  fact,  that  they  have  often 
been  known  to  drop  their  eggs  in  the  nest  of  the  common 
hen,  when  that  happened  to  be  in  the  fields,  or  at  a  small 
distance  from  the  house.  The  two  Partridges  above  men- 
tioned were  raised  in  this  manner;  and  it  was  particularly 


remarked  by  the  lady,  who  gave  me  the  information,  that 
the  hen  sat  for  several  days  after  her  own  eggs  were  hatch- 
ed, until  the  young  Quails  made  their  appearance. 

The  Partridge,  on  her  part,  has  sometimes  been  em- 
ployed to  hatch  the  eggs  of  the  common  domestic  hen.  A 
friend  of  mine,  who  himself  made  the  experiment,  informs 
me,  that  of  several  hen's  eggs  which  he  substituted  in 
place  of  those  of  the  Partridge,  she  brought  out  the  whole; 
and  that  for  several  weeks  he  occasionally  surprised  her  in 
various  parts  of  the  plantation,  with  her  brood  of  chickens; 
on  which  occasions  she  exhibited  all  that  distressful  alarm, 
and  practised  her  usual  manoeuvres  for  their  preservation. 
Even  after  they  were  considerably  grown,  and  larger  than 
the  Partridge  herself,  she  continued  to  lead  them  about; 
but,  though  their  notes,  or  call,  were  those  of  common 
chickens,  their  manners  had  all  the  shyness,  timidity, 
and  alarm  of  young  Partridges  ;  running  with  great  ra- 
pidity, and  squatting  in  the  grass,  exactly  in  the  manner 
of  the  Partridge.  Soon  after  this  they  disappeared,  having 
probably  been  destroyed  by  dogs,  by  the  gun,  or  by  birds 
of  prey.  Whether  the  domestic  fowl  might  not  by  this 
method  be  very  soon  brought  back  to  its  original  savage 
state,  and  thereby  supply  another  additional  subject  for  the 
amusement  of  the  sportsman,  will  scarcely  admit  of  a 
doubt.  But  the  experiment,  in  order  to  secure  its  success, 
would  require  to  be  made  in  a  quarter  of  the  country  less 
exposed  than  ours  to  the  ravages  of  guns,  traps,  dogs,  and 
the  deep  snows  of  winter,  that  the  new  tribe  might  have 
full  time  to  become  completely  naturalized,  and  well  fixed 
in  all  their  native  habits. 

About  the  beginning  of  September,  the  Quails  being 
now  nearly  full  grown,  and  associated  in  flocks,  or  coveys, 
of  from  four  or  five  to  thirty,  afl"ord  considerable  sport  to 
the  gunner.  And,  perhaps,  of  all  the  feathered  tribe 
which  inhabit  this  country,  none  are  persecuted  with  so 
much  untiring  vigor,  as  this  interesting  little  bird;  the 
delicacy  of  its  flesh,  its  domestic  qualities,  and  source  of 
profit,  seems  to  mark  it  for  that  destruction  which  continu- 
ally awaits  it. 

Ranking  high  in  our  scale  of  game,  and  being  univer- 
sally found  in  this  country,  the  Partridge,  by  its  familiar 
habits,  invites  the  sportsman,  who  pursues  it  as  a  source 
of  pleasurable  recreation,  superior  to  all  others;  and  thus, 
between  man,  hawks,  and  vermin,  is  a  continual  war 
waged  against  this  harmless  bird,  and  every  succeeding 
year  adds  to  the  number  and  avidity  of  its  enemies,  but  so 
great  is  the  fecundity  of  the  Partridge,  that  instead  of  de- 
creasing in  quantity,  they  appear  to  thrive,  and  multiph', 
in  despite  of  the  system  of  extermination  carried  on 
against  them.  The  most  are  killed  by  man,  and  he  may 
be  fairly  considered  their  greatest  enemy;  but,  the  Par- 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


tridge  is  more  fearful  of  the  hawk,  for  when  pursued  by 
this  destructive  bird,  terror  overcomes  its  instinct,  and  it 
will  oftimes  fly,  unmindful  of  the  consequences,  against  a 
tree  or  house  with  so  much  force,  as  to  be  killed;  in  fact, 
frequently  their  whole  muscular  powers  become  so  paral- 
ized  by  dread,  that  it  will  suffer  itself  to  be  trodden  upon, 
or  taken,  without  making  an  eifort  to  escape. 

At  this  time,  the  notes  of  the  male  are  most  frequent, 
clear,  and  loud.  His  common  or  early  call,  consists  of 
two  notes,  with  sometimes  an  introductory  one,  and  is 
similar  to  the  sound  produced  by  pronouncing  the  words 
<' Bob  White."  This  call  may  bo  easily  imitated  by 
whistling,  so  as  to  deceive  the  bird  itself,  and  bring  it  near. 
While  uttering  this,  he  is  usually  perched  on  a  rail  of  the 
fence,  or  on  a  low  limb  of  an  apple-tree,  wliere  he  will 
sometimes  sit,  repeating  at  short  intervals  "  Bob  White," 
for  half  an  hour  at  a  time.  It,  however,  is  only  practised 
after  pairing  in  the  spring,  and  conthiues  through  the  sum- 
mer until  about  the  middle  of  August,  when  it  is  substi- 
tuted by  another  call,  which  is  used  by  them  until  the  time 
of  pairing  comes  on  again.  When  a  covey  are  assembled 
in  a  thicket  or  corner  of  a  field,  and  about  to  take  wing, 
they  make  a  low  twittering  sound,  not  unlike  that  of  young 
chickens;  and  when  the  covey  is  dispersed,  they  are  called 
together  again  by  a  loud  and  frequently  repeated  note,  pe- 
culiarly expressive  of  tenderness  and  anxiety. 

About  the  first  of  October  they  prepare  for  winter  quar- 
ters, and  at  this  time  commences  what  is  called  their  run- 
ning season,  a  singular  habit  of  this  bird,  and  may  be  ac- 
counted for,  in  some  measure,  as  follows:  In  open  and 
well  cultivated  grounds,  their  food  and  cover  are  destroyed 
by  the  husbandman,  who  turns  the  soil  in  order  to  put  in 
his  winter's  grain ;  added  to  this,  are  the  few  watering 
places  and  swamps  to  afford  them  the  means  of  life  and  pro- 
tection, consequently,  the  birds,  impelled  bjr  instinct,  seek 
those  places  in  low  and  swampy  countries,  where  they  can 
always  procure  water,  and  shelter  from  their  enemies 
and  the  severity  of  winter.  Thus,  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Philadelphia,  and  all  populous  cities,  where  the 
country  is  in  a  high  state  of  cultivation,  does  this  circum- 
stance of  the  Partridge  occur;  but,  in  New  Jersey,  Dela- 
ware, and  the  interior  of  other  States,  it  seldom  or  never 
takes  place. 

The  food  of  the  Partridge  consists  of  grain,  seeds,  in- 
sects, and  berries  of  various  kinds.  Buckwheat  and  Indian 
corn  are  particular  favourites.  In  September  and  October 
the  buckwheat  fields  afford  them  an  abundant  supply, 
as  well  as  a  secure  shelter.  They  usually  roost  at  night  in 
the  middle  of  a  field,  on  high  ground;  and  from  the  cir- 
cumstance of  their  dung  being  often  found  in  such  places, 
ia  one  round  heap,  it  is  generally  conjectured  tliat  they 


roost  in  a  circle,  with  their  heads  outwards,  each  individual 
in  this  position,  forming  a  kind  of  guard  to  prevent  sur- 
prise. They  also  continue  to  lodge  for  several  nights  in  the 
same  spot. 

The  majority  of  Partridges  in  a  covey,  are  males;  hence, 
in  the  pairing  season,  it  frequently  happens  that  two  cocks 
claim  the  same  hen,  and  decide  their  right  by  combat, 
upon  the  truest  principles  of  honor.  A  gentleman  who 
was  an  eye  witness  to  a  battle  between  two  male  Par- 
tridges, during  the  past  spring,  stated  that  it  lasted  for  a 
considerable  time.  His  attention  was  attracted  by  a  rust- 
ling noise  in  the  bushes,  accompanied  with  a  twittering 
sound,  and  examining  into  the  cause,  he  perceived  these 
birds  in  close  combat:  after  some  time,  one  bird  ran  off  to 
a  considerable  distance,  and  was  followed  closely  by  his  an- 
tagonist, when  they  wheeled  about,  and  returned  to  the 
same  spot,  where  they  renewed  the  fight  with  increasing 
vigor;  then,  in  turn,  the  other  bird  acted  in  a  similar  man- 
ner, by  running  away,  being  chased  by  his  antagonist,  and 
in  this  way  the  battle  was  protracted  for  half  an  hour,  and 
until  the  contending  parties  became  so  exhausted,  that  our 
friend  put  an  end  to  the  contest,  by  making  them  prisoners. 

The  Partridge,  like  all  the  rest  of  the  gallinaceous  order, 
flies  with  a  loud  whirring  sound,  occasioned  by  the  short- 
ness, concavity,  and  rapid  motion  of  its  wings,  and  the  com- 
parative weight  of  its  body.  The  steadiness  of  its  horizon- 
tal flight,  however,  renders  it  no  difficult  mark  for  the 
sportsman,  particularly  when  assisted  by  his  sagacious 
pointer.  The  flesh  of  this  bird  is  peculiarly  white,  tender, 
and  delicate,  unequalled,  in  these  qualities,  by  that  of  any 
other  of  its  genus  in  the  United  States. 

The  Quail,  as  it  is  called  in  New  England,  or  the  Par- 
tridge, as  in  Pennsylvania,  is  nine  inches  long,  and  four- 
teen inches  in  extent;  and  will  usually  weigh  from  seven 
to  eight,  and  sometimes  nine  ounces,  each  ;  the  bill  is 
black;  line  over  the  eye,  down  the  neck,  and  whole  chin, 
pure  white,  bounded  by  a  band  of  black,  which  descends 
and  spreads  broadly  over  the  throat;  the  eye  is  dark  hazel; 
crown,  neck,  and  upper  part  of  the  breast,  red  brown;  sides 
of  the  neck  spotted  with  white  and  black,  on  a  reddish 
brown  ground ;  back,  scapulars,  and  lesser  coverts,  red 
brown,  intermixed  with  ash,  and  sprinkled  with  black;  ter- 
tials  edged  with  yellowish  white;  wings  plain  and  dusky; 
lower  part  of  the  breast  and  belly  pale  yellowish  white; 
beautifully  marked  with  numerous  curving  spots,  or  arrow 
heads  of  black;  tail  ash,  sprinkled  with  reddish  brown; 
legs  very  pale  ash. 

The  female  differs  in  having  the  chin  and  sides  of  the 
head  yellowish  brown,  in  which  dress  it  has  been  described 
as  a  different  kind.  There  is,  however,  only  one  species  of 
Quail  at  present  known  within  the  United  States. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY, 


A  HUNTING  EXCURSION. 

In  the  winter  of  1817,  (being  a  resident  of  Pike  coun- 
ty, in  the  northern  part  of  Pennsylvania,)  I  shouldered  my 
rifle,  and  made  a  solitary  hunting  excursion  after  deer, 
along  the  big  Buskill,  a  creek  or  tributary  stream  to  the 
river  Delaware,  about  one  hundred  miles  north  of  Philadel- 
phia, and  remarkable  for  the  rocky,  barren  country,  through 
which  it  finds  its  way. 

At  this  period,  the  population  was  thin  and  scattered, 
the  nearest  settlement,  or  town,  being  fifteen  miles  distant, 
save  the  habitation  from  which  I  made  my  egress,  and  a 
few  other  log  dwellings  in  the  neighbourhood.  The  rug- 
ged and  barren  soil  offered  no  inducements  to  the  toilsome 
hand  of  the  pioneer,  or  agriculturalist.  Wild  animals 
were  numerous;  deer,  bears,  panthers,  and  wolves,  seemed 
to  be  the  sole  inhabitants  of  this  dreary  solitude,  while  the 
horrid  yell,  and  devastating  howl  of  the  two  latter,  only 
broke  in  upon  the  dull  silence  which  reigned  in  this  ro- 
mantic wild. 

The  day  on  which  I  made  the  forementioned  excursion, 
was  cold,  dreary,  and  threatening  rain.  I  had  travelled,  per- 
haps, three  miles  before  I  succeeded  in  killing  a  deer, 
although  I  saw  several,  but  out  of  range  of  my  trusty  rifle; 
this  was  a  fine  buck,  and  after  divesting  him  of  his  offals,  I 
as  usual,  hung  him  on  a  snag  projecting  from  the  side  of  a 
barren  oak,  until  I  could  procure  assistance  to  carry  him 
home.  Being  somewhat  fatigued,  I  sat  me  down  to  rest  on 
a  high,  commanding  spot,  which  was  a  craggy  projecture, 
terminating  with  a  considerable  precipice.  I  remained  in 
a  contemplative  mood,  perhaps  for  fifteen  minutes,  when 
my  attention  was  aroused  by  a  crackling  noise  on  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  creek.  I  discovered  it  to  proceed  from  a 
panther,  of  enormous  size,  that  was  approaching  the  place 
where  I  was  seated,  I  however,  soon  lost  sight  of  it,  as  it 


appeared  to  go  towards  the  foot  of  the  precipice,  immedi- 
ately under  my  feet,  and  as  I  supposed,  with  the  intention 
of  rising  the  hill.  I  seized  my  rifle,  and  sheltered  myself 
behind  a  large  tree,  and  with  breathless  anxiety  awaited 
the  moment,  when  my  antagonist  would  show  his  head 
at  the  top  of  the  precipice;  and,  being  thus  prepared  to  let 
fly  the  messenger  of  death,  I  felt  but  little  alarm,  from  the 
assurance  of  my  ability  to  dispatch  the  monster,  so  soon  as 
the  opportunity  offered. 

But,  I  had  mistaken  the  course  and  object  of  the  animal, 
and  the  precautionary  steps  I  had  taken,  proved  in  the 
sequel,  to  have  been  my  guarantee  of  safety,  for  I  had 
scarcely  adjusted  every  thing  necessary  in  these  cases, 
when  I  heard  a  yell,  the  most  ferocious  and  terrific  that 
the  mind  can  conceive,  and  in  a  moment,  the  panther 
made  a  spring  from  the  bottom  of  the  precipice  into  a  tree, 
twenty  feet  from  the  ground,  foaming,  yelling,  and  tearing 
the  bark  and  branches  with  her  claws,  and  distant  from  me 
about  eighteen  or  twenty  yards.  The  paroxysms  of  rage 
exhibited  at  this  time  by  the  creature,  exceeded  any  thing 
I  had  ever  before  witnessed.  I  was  then  unable  to  account 
for  it,  there  being  no  apparent  cause  to  excite  such  actions, 
and  the  courage  which  I  had  acquired  by  long  experience, 
was  almost  failing  me;  but,  being  convinced  that  my  only 
safety  was  in  the  destruction  of  tliis  terrible  creature,  I 
levelled  my  piece,  and  fired,  but  at  the  instant  the  trigger 
obeyed  its  impulse,  the  animal  moved,  and  instead  of  kill- 
ing, I  only  added  fury  to  my  antagonist.  She  then  sprung 
from  the  tree  to  a  large  limb  of  an  adjoining  black  oak, 
commenced  lashing  the  smaller  limbs  with  her  claws,  curl- 
ing her  tail,  and  darting  fury  from  her  eyes,  sought  the 
object  of  her  anger,  on  whom  she  might  wreak  her  ven- 
geance. 

I  found  that  my  security  consisted  in  keeping  perfectly 
quiet,  and  with  much  haste  and  trepidation,  I  succeeded  in 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


re-loading  my  rifle;  this  quieted  my  fears,  and  I  gained  my 
usual  confidence.  By  tliis  time  tlie  panther,  WTithing  un- 
der the  effect  of  the  wound,  yelled  more  terrible,  if  possible, 
than  before,  and  seemed  actuated  solely  by  the  spirit  of  the 
infernal  regions,  commenced  springing  on  the  rocks,  then 
on  some  tree,  but  fortunately,  always  in  that  situation  as  to 
keep  the  tree  behind  which  I  stood,  between  us ;  the  last 
leap,  however,  that  she  made,  was  in  the  fork  of  a  tree  about 
fifteen  yards  from  me,  which  completely  uncovered  me  to 
the  full  view  of  this  enraged  monster. 

Whether  the  animal  at  the  discovery,  became  daunted,  or 
enjoying  the  self  satisfaction  of  having  her  enemy  within 
her  reach,  and  thereby  paused  in  order  to  glut  her  eyes 
more  fully,  preparatory  to  the  destruction  of  her  prey,  or 
before  she  made  her  final  leap,  is  impossible  for  me  to 
divine;  but,  providentiallj'  forme,  it  was  thus,  for  this  aw- 
ful moment  of  silence  and  hesitancy,  enabled  me  to  shoot 
the  creature  through  the  heart,  and  bring  her  lifeless  at  my 
feet  Unaccustomed  to  see  this  animal  do  thus,  I  was  en- 
deavouring to  account  for  actions  so  extraordinary,  in  a 
variety  of  causes;  but,  on  wending  my  way  to  my  habita- 
tion, the  mystery  was  solved.  I  overtook  a  hunter,  who 
had  in  his  arms  two  young  panthers,  and  it  appeared  that 
this  adventurous  man  had  gone  into  the  den  of  the  mother, 
and  robbed  her  of  her  kittens;  this  being  the  case,  it  is  easy 
to  account  for  the  ferocity  of  the  animal  I  had  just  killed, 
and  from  whose  vengeance,  I  thanked  my  stars  I  had  so  luck- 
ily escaped.  But  my  feelings  towards  the  stranger  were  not 
of  the  most  pacific  kind,  arising  from  the  reflection  of  my  dan- 
ger having  been  caused  by  his  fool-hardiness,  and  I  expressed 
myself  to  him  on  the  subject  in  strong  terms  to  that  effect. 

The  man,  after  hearing  the  story,  turned  pale  and  shud- 
dered, not  at  any  danger  he  was  then  in,  but  from  that 
which  he  had  so  fortunately  escaped,  for  had  the  infuriated 
mother  returned  at  the  period  he  was  in  the  den,  the  cubs 
he  held  in  his  arms,  would,  by  the  time  I  was  conversing 
with  him,  have  been  sucking  his  blood,  for,  from  his  own 
tale,  he  could  not  have  left  the  spot  more  than  half  an  hour 
previous  to  my  arrival.  M. 


CHESAPEAKE  DUCK  SHOOTING. 

The  Chesapeake  Bay  and  its  tributary  streams,  has, 
from  its  discovery,  been  known  as  the  greatest  resort  of 
water  fowl  in  the  United  States.  This  has  depended  on 
the  profusion  of  their  food,  which  is  accessible  on  the  im- 
mense flats,  or  shoals  that  are  found  near  the  mouth  of  the 
Susquehanna,  the  whole  length  of  North-East  and  Elk 
rivers,  and  on  the  shores  of  the  bay  and  connecting  streams, 
as  far  south  as  York  and  James  rivers. 
L 


The  quantity  of  fowl  of  late  years,  has  been  decided- 
ly less  than  in  times  gone  by;  and  the  writer  has  met 
with  persons  who  have  assured  him,  the  number  has 
decreased  one  half  in  the  last  fifteen  years.  This  change 
has  arisen,  most  probably,  from  the  vast  increase  in  the 
destruction  from  the  greater  number  of  persons  who  now 
make  a  business  or  pleasure  of  this  sport;  as  well  as  the 
constant  disturbance  they  meet  with  on  many  of  their  feed- 
ing grounds,  which  induces  them  to  distribute  themselves 
more  widely,  and  forsake  their  usual  haunts. 

As  early  as  the  first  and  second  week  in  October,  the 
smaller  Ducks,  as  the  Buffel  head,  (anas  albeola,)  South 
southerly,  (a.  glacialis,)  and  the  Ruddy,  or  Heavy  tailed 
duck,  (a.  rubidus,)  &c.  begin  to  show  themselves  in  the 
upper  part  of  the  bay,  and  by  the  last  of  the  month,  the 
Black  head,  (a.  marila,)  Widgeon,  or  Bald  pate,  (a. 
Americana,)  Red  head,  (a.  ferina,)  and  the  Goose,  (a. 
Canadensis,)  appear,  and  rapidly  distribute  themselves 
down  the  bay.  The  Canvass  back,  (a.  valisineria,)  and 
the  Swan  (a.  cygnus,)  rarely,  unless  the  weather  to 
the  north  has  been  severe,  appear  in  quantities  till  the 
middle  of  November.  All  these  fowl,  when  first  arrived, 
are  thin  and  tasteless,  from  their  privation  during  their  mi- 
gration, and  perhaps  preparatory  arrangements,  and  require 
some  days  at  least,  of  undisturbed  repose,  to  give  them  that 
peculiai-  flavour,  for  which  some  of  them  are  so  celebrated. 
During  the  low  tides  succeeding  their  arrival,  the  birds  sit 
on  the  flats  far  from  the  shores,  and  rarely  rise  to  the  wing 
unless  disturbed;  but  when  the  spring  tides  render  the 
water  too  deep  for  feeding,  they  commence  their  career, 
and  pass  down  the  bay  in  the  morning,  and  return  in  the 
evening.  Most  of  these  fowl  feed  on  the  same  grass, 
which  grows  abundantly  on  the  shallows  in  the  bay  and 
adjacent  waters,  and  has  been  called  Duck-grass,  (Vaxis- 
NERiA  ,imericana. ) 

It  grows  from  six  to  eighteen  inches  in  length,  and  is 
readily  pulled  up  by  the  root.  Persons  who  have  closely 
observed  these  Ducks  while  feeding,  say,  that  the  Canvass 
back,  and  Black  head,  dive  and  pull  the  grass  from  the 
ground,  and  feed  on  the  roots,  and  the  Red  head,  and  Bald 
pate  then  consume  the  leaves.  Indeed,  although  the  Bald 
pate  is  a  much  smaller  bird  than  the  Canvass  back,  they 
have  been  seen  to  rob  the  latter,  immediately  on  their  re- 
turn from  under  the  water,  of  all  their  spoil. 

All  these  larger  Ducks  are  found  together  when  feeding, 
but  separate  when  on  the  wing.  That  they  feed  on  the 
same  grass,  is  evident,  from  the  similarity  of  flavour,  and 
those  most  accustomed  to  the  article,  have  a  difficulty  in 
deciding  on  the  kind  of  Duck  from  the  taste.  Indeed,  the 
Bald  pate  is  generally  preferred  by  residents.  Whilst 
speaking  of  flavour,  I  will  remark,  that  the  Swan  under 


42 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY, 


five  years  of  age,  is  probably  the  most  luscious  of  all  water 
fowl.  It  possesses  the  taste  of  the  Goose,  but  more  concen- 
trated, and  is  far  more  tender;  and  I  have  known  persons 
nauseated  by  the  extreme  sweetness  of  the  flesh.  The 
length  of  time  this  bird  can  be  preserved  untainted  is  re- 
markable, having  seen  one  of  them  still  perfectly  sweet 
four  weeks  after  his  death,  and  without  any  means  having 
been  employed,  other  than  an  exposure  to  the  air  during 
the  time,  most  of  which  had  been  wet  and  warm.  The  age 
of  the  Swan  may  be  known  by  the  colour  of  the  feathers, 
&c.,  the  yearling  being  of  a  deep  leaden  tint,  with  a  deli- 
cate red  bill;  the  second  year,  he  is  of  a  lighter  colour, 
with  a  white  bill;  the  third  season,  his  bill  has  become  a 
jet  black,  but  about  one  third  of  the  plumage  is  still  tipped 
with  grey,  and  till  he  is  five  years  of  age,  an  occasional 
feather  will  present  the  tint  of  3-outh.  As  they  live  perhaps 
to  one  hundred  years  or  more,  they  become  exceedingly 
tough  and  tasteless,  and  flying,  as  they  generally  do,  in  lines 
of  from  three  to  eight  with  a  patriarch  at  the  head,  the  lead- 
ing Swan  is  usually  passed  and  the  followers  chosen. 
These  elders  have  a  note  remarkably  resembling,  at  a  dis- 
tance, the  common  tin  trumpet,  and  the  intensity  of  their 
inharmonious  scream  is  decreased  by  youth. 

"  The  lasl  sweet  notes  of  the  expiring  Swan" 

are  as  unknown  in  the  Chesapeake,  as 

"Memnon's  music  which  at  sun  rise  play'd." 

When  more  than  one  person  are  shooting,  it  is  usual  for 
each  to  name  which  Swan  he  will  aim  at,  and  if  there  be 
not  enough  for  all,  two  will  take  a  particularly  good  bird, 
and  if  it  be  killed,  will  decide  its  possession  afterwards,  by 
some  play  of  chance.  Few  are  willing  to  take  the  first 
bird,  even  though  their  position  of  last  in  the  direction  of 
flight,  would  compel  them  according  to  usage,  to  do  so,  not 
only  from  the  difficulty  and  uselessness  of  killing  the  old 
ones,  but  there  is  much  less  chance  of  a  stray  shot  from  a 
neighbour's  gun  assisting  in  the  destruction. 

In  the  autumn  of  1829,  the  writer  with  another  person, 
was  on  Abby  Island,  when  seven  Swans  were  approaching 
the  point  in  one  line,  and  three  others  a  short  distance  be- 
hind them.  The  small  group  appeared  exceeding  anxious 
to  pass  the  larger,  and  as  they  doubled  the  point  at  about 
sixty  yards  distance,  the  three  formed  with  the  second  bird 
of  the  larger  flock,  a  square  of  probably  less  than  three  feet. 
At  this  moment  both  guns  were  discharged,  and  three 
Swans  were  killed,  and  the  fourth  so  much  injured,  that  he 
left  the  flock  and  reached  the  water  a  short  distance  in  the 
bay,  but  it  being  nearly  dark,  his  direction  was  lost. 
These,  with  another  that  had  been  killed  within  an  hour, 
and  three  which  were  subsequently  obtained,  were  all  of 


less  than  five  years  of  age,  and  averaged  a  weight  of 
eighteen  pounds. 

The  Swans  never  leave  the  open  shores  of  the  bay  for 
the  side  streams,  and  the  Geese  rarely  through  the  day, 
though  they  often  retire  to  the  little  inlets  to  roost  or  feed 
at  night.  Few  of  these  large  game  are  found  after  their 
regular  settlement,  above  Spesutie  Island,  but  lay  on  the 
flats  in  mingled  masses  of  from  fifty  to  five  hundred,  down 
the  western  shores,  even  as  far  as  the  Potomac.  During  a 
still  night,  a  few  Swans  may  often  be  seen  asleep  in  the 
middle  of  the  bay,  surrounded  by  a  group  of  far  more 
watchful  Geese;  and  the  writer  was  paddled  at  day  break 
one  morning  within  ten  feet  of  an  enormous  sleeping  Swan, 
who  had  probably  depended  for  alarm  on  the  wary  Geese, 
by  which  he  had  been  surrounded,  but  which,  as  we  ap- 
proached had  swam  away.  By  an  unforeseen  occurrence, 
when  a  few  seconds  would  have  enabled  us  to  have  stunned 
him  by  a  blow,  he  became  alarmed,  and  started  in  a  direc- 
tion that  prevented  a  probable  chance  of  killing,  from  our 
position,  and  tottering  nature  of  the   skiff. 

The  strength  of  these  birds  is  so  great,  that  if  we  had  at- 
tempted his  capture  without  first  disabling  him,  he  would 
doubtless  have  upset  the  boat;  for  it  has  been  known  that  a 
full  grown  Swan,  and  adults  usually  measure  seven  feet 
from  tip  to  tip,  is  more  than  equal  in  strength,  in  three 
feet  water,  to  a  good  sized  man. 

By  the  middle  of  December,  particularly  if  the  weather 
has  been  a  little  severe,  the  fowl  of  every  kind  has  become 
so  fat,  that  I  have  seen  Canvass  back  burst  open  in  the 
breast  in  falling  on  the  water;  and  spending  less  time  in 
feeding,  pass  up  and  down  the  bay  from  river  to  river,  in 
their  morning  and  evening  flights,  and  give  at  certain  locali- 
ties, great  opportunities  for  destruction.  They  pursue, 
even  in  their  short  passages,  very  much  the  order  of  their 
migratory  movements,  of  the  line  or  baseless  triangle,  and 
when  the  wind  blows  on  the  points  which  may  lie  in  their 
course,  the  sportsman  has  great  chances  of  success.  These 
points  or  courses  of  the  Ducks,  are  materially  affected  by 
the  winds,  for  they  avoid,  if  possible,  an  approach  to  the 
shore,  but  when  a  strong  breeze  sets  them  on  these  pro- 
jections of  the  land,  they  are  compelled  to  pass  within  shot, 
and  often  over  the  land  itself 

In  the  Susquehanna  and  Elk  rivers,  there  are  few  of 
these  points  for  shooting,  and  success  depends  in  those 
places,  in  destroying  them  on  their  feeding  grounds. 
After  leaving  the  eastern  point  at  the  mouth  of  the  Susque- 
hanna and  Turkey  Point,  the  western  side  of  the  Elk 
river,  which  are  both  moderately  good  for  flying  shooting, 
the  first  place  of  much  celebrity  is  the  narrows,  between 
Spesutie  Island  and  the  western  shore.  These  narrows 
are  about  three  miles  in  length,  and  from  three  to  five 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


hundred  yards  in  breadth.  By  the  middle  of  November, 
the  Canvass  backs  particularly,  begin  to  feed  in  this  passage, 
and  the  entrance  and  out  let,  as  well  as  many  intermediate 
spots,  become  very  successful  stations.  A  few  miles  fur- 
ther down  the  western  shore  is  Taylor's  Island,  which  is 
situated  at  the  mouth  of  the  Rumney,  and  Abby  Island  at 
the  mouth  of  Bush  river,  which  are  both  celebrated  for 
Ducks,  as  well  as  Swans  and  Geese.  These  are  the  most 
northerly  points  where  large  fowl  are  met  with,  and 
projecting  out  between  deep  coves  where  immense  numbers 
of  these  birds  feed,  they  possess  great  advantages.  The 
south  point  of  Bush  river,  or  Legoe's  point,  and  Robbins' 
and  Rickett's  points  near  Gunpowder  river,  are  fruitful 
localities.  Immediately  at  the  mouth  of  this  river  is  situ- 
ated Carroll's  Island,  which  has  long  been  known  as  a 
great  shooting  ground,  and  is  in  the  rentage  of  a  company 
at  a  high  rate.  Maxwell's  point,  as  well  as  some  others  up 
this  and  other  rivers,  and  even  further  down  the  bay,  are 
good  places,  but  less  celebrated  than  those  I  have  men- 
tioned. Most  of  these  points  are  let  out  as  shooting 
grounds  to  companies  and  individuals,  and  they  are  es- 
teemed so  valuable,  that  intruders  are  treated  severely. 

It  has  been  ascertained,  that  disturbing  the  fowl  on  the 
feeding  flats,  is  followed  in  most  cases,  by  their  forsaking 
those  haunts,  and  seeking  others ;  hence,  in  the  rivers 
leading  to  the  bay  near  flying  points,  they  are  never  an- 
noyed by  boat  shooting  either  by  night  or  day,  and  al- 
though the  discharge  of  guns  from  the  shore  may  arouse 
them  for  a  time,  they  soon  return;  whereas,  a  boat  or  sail 
in  chase  a  few  times,  will  make  them  forsake  a  favourite 
spot  for  days. 

From  the  great  number  of  Ducks  that  are  seen  in  all  di- 
rections, one  would  suppose  that  there  could  be  no  doubt 
of  success  at  any  of  the  points  in  their  course  of  flight; 
but  whilst  they  have  such  correct  vision  as  to  distance,  and 
wide  range  of  space,  unless  attending  circumstances  are 
favorable,  a  sportsman  may  be  da3-s  without  a  promising 
shot.  For  the  western  side  of  the  bay,  and  it  is  there  the 
best  grounds  are  found,  the  southerly  winds  are  the  most 
favourable;  and,  if  a  high  tide  is  attended  by  a  smart  frost 
and  mild  south  wind,  or  even  calm  morning,  the  number 
of  birds  set  in  motion  becomes  inconceivable,  and  they  ap- 
proach the  points  so  closely,  that  even  a  moderately  good 
shot,  can  procure  from  fifty  to  one  hundred  Ducks  a  day. 
This  has  often  occurred,  and  the  author  himself  has  seen 
eight  fat  Canvass  backs  killed  at  one  discharge  into  a  flock, 
from  a  small  gun. 

To  a  stranger  visiting  these  waters,  the  innumerable 
Ducks,  feeding  in  beds  of  thousands,  or  filling  the  air  with 
their  careering,  with  the  great  numbers  of  beautiful  white 
Swans  resting  near  the  shores,  like  banks  of  driven  snow, 


he  would  naturally  suppose  the  facilities  for  their  destruc- 
tion were  equal  to  their  profusion,  and  with  so  large  an 
object  in  view,  a  sportsman  could  scarcely  miss  his  aim. 
But  when  he  considers  the  great  thickness  of  their  cover- 
ing, the  velocity  of  their  flight,  the  rapidity  and  duration 
of  their  diving,  and  the  great  influence  that  circumstances  of 
wind  and  weather  have  on  the  chances  of  success,  it  be- 
comes a  matter  of  wonder  how  so  many  are  destroyed. 

The  usual  mode  of  taking  these  birds,  has  been,  till  re- 
cently, by  shooting  from  the  points  during  the  flight,  or 
from  the  land  or  boats  on  their  feeding  grounds,  or  by 
toUng,  as  it  is  strangely  termed,  an  operation  by  which  the 
Ducks  are  sometimes  induced  to  approach  within  a  few  feet 
of  the  shore,  from  a  distance  often  of  several  hundred  yards. 
This  process,  though  it  has  been  frequently  described,  may 
not  be  uninteresting  to  repeat.  A  spot  is  usually  selected 
where  the  birds  have  not  been  much  disturbed,  and  where 
they  feed  at  three  or  four  hundred  yards  from,  and  can  ap- 
proach to  within  forty  or  fift}^  yards  of  the  shore,  as  they 
will  never  come  nearer  than  they  can  swim  freely.  The 
higher  the  tides  and  calmer  the  day,  the  better,  for  they 
feed  closer  to  the  shores  and  see  more  distinctly.  Most 
persons  on  these  waters,  have  a  race  of  small,  white  or 
liver  coloured  dogs,  which  are  familiarly  called  the  toler 
breed,  but  which  appear  to  be  the  ordinary  Poodle. 

These  dogs  are  extremely  playful,  and  are  taught  to  run 
up  and  down  the  shore,  in  sight  of  the  ducks,  either  by  the 
motion  of  the  hand  or  by  throwing  chips  from  side  to  side. 
They  soon  become  perfectly  acquainted  with  their  business, 
and  as  they  discover  the  Ducks  approaching  them,  make 
their  jumps  less  high  till  they  almost  crawl  on  the  ground, 
to  prevent  the  birds  discovering  what  tlie  object  of  their 
curiosity  may  be.  This  disposition  to  examine  rarities, 
has  been  taken  advantage  of,  by  using  a  red  or  black 
handkerchief  by  day,  and  white  by  night,  in  toling,  or 
even  by  gently  splashing  the  water  on  the  shore.  The 
nearest  Ducks  soon  notice  tlie  strange  appearance,  what- 
ever the  plan  attempted,  raise  their  heads,  gaze  intent- 
ly for  a  moment,  then  push  for  the  shore.  The  rest  fol- 
low suite,  and  the  author  has,  on  many  occasions,  seen 
thousands  of  them  swimming  in  a  solid  mass  direct  to  the 
object;  and  by  removing  the  dog  further  into  the  grass, 
they  have  been  brought  within  fifteen  feet  of  the  bank. 
When  they  have  approached  to  about  thirty  or  forty  yards, 
their  curiosity  is  generally  satisfied,  when  they  swim 
laterally  up  and  down  for  a  few  seconds,  and  then  retro- 
gade  to  their  old  spot.  Whilst  presenting  the  side  view,  is 
the  moment  to  shoot,  and  forty  or  fifty  Ducks  have  often 
been  killed  by  a  small  gun.  The  Blackheads  toll  the  most 
readily,  then  the  Red  heads,  next  the  Canvass  backs,  and 
the  Bald  pates  rarely;  and  this,  is  the  ratio  of  their  approach 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY. 


to  the  points  in  flying,  although,  if  the  Canvass  hack  has 
determined  on  his  direction,  few  circumstances  will  change 
his  course.  The  total  absence  of  cover  or  precaution 
against  exposure  to  sight,  or  even  a  large  fire,  will  not  turn 
these  birds  aside  on  such  occasions. 

In  ^_ym^  shooting,  the  Bald  pate  is  a  great  nuisance,  for 
they  are  so  shy,  that  they  not  only  avoid  the  points  them- 
selves, but  by  their  whistling  and  confusion  of  flight  at  such 
times,  alarm  others;  and  few  days  occur  during  the  season, 
without  many  maledictions  on  their  very  existence. 

As  simple  as  it  may  appear,  to  shoot  with  success  into  a 
solid  mass  of  Ducks  sitting  on  the  water  at  forty  or  fifty 
yards  distance,  yet  when  you  recollect,  that  you  are  placed 
nearly  level  with  the  water,  the  object  opposed  to  the 
visual  line,  even  though  composed  of  hundreds,  may  be  in 
appearance  but  a  foot  or  two  in  width.  To  give,  therefore, 
the  best  promise  of  success,  old  duckers  recommend  that 
the  nearest  Duck  should  be  in  perfect  relief  above  the 
sight,  whatever  the  size  of  the  column,  to  avoid  the  com- 
mon result  of  over-shooting.  The  correctness  of  this  prin- 
ciple was  illustrated  to  the  writer,  in  an  instance  in  which 
he  had  toled  to  within  a  space  between  forty  and  seventy 
yards  of  the  shore,  a  bed  of  certainly  hundreds  of  Ducks. 
Twenty  yards  beyond  the  outside  birds  of  the  solid  mass, 
were  five  Black  heads,  one  of  which  was  alone  killed  out  of 
the  whole  number,  by  a  deliberate  aim  into  the  middle  of  the 
large  flock  from  a  rest,  by  a  heavy,  well  proved  Duck  gun. 

Before  I  leave  the  subject  of  sitting  shooting,  I  will 
mention  an  occurrence  that  took  place  on  Bush  river,  a 
few  years  since.  A  man  whose  house  was  situated  near 
the  bank,  on  rising  early  one  morning,  observed  the  river 
had  frozen  except  an  open  space  of  ten  or  twelve  feet  in 
diameter,  at  about  eighty  yards  from  the  shore  nearly  op- 
posite his  house.  The  spot  was  full  of  Ducks,  and  with  a 
heavy  gun  he  fired  into  it;  many  were  killed,  and  those 
that  flew  soon  returned,  and  were  again  and  again  shot  at, 
till  fearful  he  was  injuring  those  already  his  own,  he 
ceased  the  massacre,  and  brought  on  shore  ninety-two 
Ducks,  most  of  which  were  Canvass  backs.. 

The  writer,  three  years  since,  had  the  use  of  a  dog  of 
the  above  species  who  had  never,  from  his  extreme  youth, 
been  taught,  and  the  fourth  or  fifth  attempt  that  was  made  at 
toling,  as  the  Ducks  neared  him,  he  retired  into  the  grass, 
stooped,  and  when  he  supposed  they  were  within  shot,  im- 
mediately ceased  his  play,  and  at  the  sound  of  the  click  in 
cocking,  laid  flat  down  that  he  might  be  out  of  danger. 
This  manoeuvre  was  observed  frequently  afterwards,  and 
when  he  supposed  the  Ducks  sufficiently  near,  no  induce- 
ments could  make  him  play. 

To  prevent  them  running  in,  whilst  toling,  these  dogs 
are  not  allowed  to  go  into  the  water  to  bring   out  the 


Ducks,  but  another  breed  of  large  dogs  of  the  Newfound- 
land and  water  spaniel  mixture  are  employed.  These  ani- 
mals, whilst  toling  is  in  progression,  or  at  a  point,  take  ap- 
parently as  much  interest  in  success,  as  the  sportsman  him- 
self. During  a  flight,  their  eyes  are  incessantly  occupied 
in  watching  the  direction  from  whence  the  birds  come,  and 
I  have  frequently  seen  them  indicate  by  their  manner,  the 
approach  of  a  flock  so  distant,  that  the  human  eye  would 
have  overlooked  it.  As  the  Ducks  come  on,  the  dog  lays 
down,  but  still  closely  observing  them,  and  the  moment 
the  discharge  occurs,  jumps  up  to  see  the  effect.  If  a  Duck 
falls  dead,  they  plunge  in  to  bring  it;  but  many  of  them 
wait  to  see  how  he  falls,  and  whether  he  swims,  and  they 
seem  to  be  as  aware  as  the  gunner,  of  the  improbability 
of  capture,  and  will  not  make  the  attempt,  knowing,  from 
experience,  that  a  bird  merely  tvinged  will  generally  save 
himself  by  swimming  and  diving.  These  dogs  usually 
bring  one  Duck  at  a  time  out  of  the  water;  but  a  real  New- 
foundland, who  was  with  the  author  and  his  company  this 
autumn,  was  seen  on  several  occasions  to  swim  twenty 
yards  further,  and  take  a  second  in  the  mouth  to  carry  on 
shore.  The  indefatigability  and  ambition  of  these  animals 
is  remarkable,  and  a  gentleman  informed  the  author  he 
had  known  his  dog  bring,  in  the  space  of  one  hour,  twenty 
Canvass  backs  and  three  Swans  from  the  water,  when  the 
weather  was  so  severe  that  the  animal  was  covered  with 
icicles,  and  to  prevent  him  freezing,  he  took  his  own  great 
coat  to  envelop  the  dog  during  the  time.  Some  dogs  will 
dive  a  considerable  distance  after  a  Duck,  but  a  crippled 
Canvass  back,  or  Black  liead,  will  swim  so  far  under  the 
water,  that  they  can  rarely  be  caught  by  the  dog ;  and  it  often 
has  been  observed,  that  the  moment  one  of  these  Ducks, 
if  merely  winged,  reaches  the  surface,  he  passes  under,  and 
however  calm,  cannot  be  seen  again.  To  give  an  idea  of 
the  extreme  rapidity  with  which  a  Duck  can  dive,  I  will 
relate  an  occurrence  which  was  noticed  by  myself,  and  a 
similar  one  took  place  to  another  of  the  party  the  same 
day.  A  male  South  southerly  was  shot  at  in  the  water  by 
a  percussion  gun,  and  after  escaping  the  shot  by  diving, 
commenced  his  flight,  and  when  about  forty  yards  from  the 
boat,  he  had  acquired  an  elevation  of  a  foot  or  more  from 
the  surface.  A  second  percussion  gun  was  discharged,  and 
he  dived  from  the  wing  at  the  flash,  and  though  the  spot  of 
entrance  was  covered  by  the  shot,  he  soon  arose  unharmed 
and  flew. 

Canvass  backs  when  wounded,  on  the  streams  near  the 
bay,  instantly  direct  their  course  for  it,  where  they  nestle 
among  the  grass  on  the  shores  till  cured,  or  destroyed  by 
eagles,  hawks,  gulls,  foxes,  or  other  vermin  that  are  con- 
stantly on  the  search;  and  if  a  dead  Canvass  back  be  not 
soon  secured,  he  becomes  a  prey  to  the  gulls,  who  rarely 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


touch  any  other  kind,  so  refined  is  their  taste.  I  have  seen 
severe  contests  take  place  betvi^een  crippled  Canvass  backs 
and  gulls,  and  although  a  pounce  or  two  generally  prevents 
further  resistance,  sometimes  they  are  driven  off.  If  the 
bird  is  remarkably  savoury,  the  gull  makes  such  a  noise, 
that  others  are  soon  collected,  vphen  possession  is  determined 
by  courage  or  strength. 

Another  mode  of  taking  Ducks,  consists  in  placing 
gilling  nets  under  water  on  the  feeding  grounds,  and  when 
they  dive  for  food,  their  head  and  wings  become  entangled 
in  the  meshes,  and  they  are  drowned.  This  plan,  though 
successful  at  first,  soon  drives  the  birds  from  these  places; 
and  in  some  cases,  a  few  applications  has  entirely  prevented 
their  return  for  some  weeks.  Paddling  upon  them  in  the 
night,  or  day,  produces  the  same  effect;  and  although  prac- 
tised to  some  extent  on  Bush  river,  is  highly  disapproved 
of  by  persons  shooting  from  points.  For  the  last  three 
j'ears,  a  man  has  been  occupied  on  this  stream  with  a  gun 
of  great  size  fixed  on  a  swivel  in  a  boat,  and  the  destruction 
of  game  on  their  feeding  flats  has  been  imitiense;  but  so  un- 
popular is  the  plan,  that  many  schemes  have  been  privately 
proposed  of  destroying  his  boat  and  gun,  and  he  has  been 
fired  at  with  ball  so  often,  that  his  expeditions  are  at  pre- 
sent confined  to  the  night.  Sailing  with  a  stifi"  breeze 
upon  the  Geese  and  Swans,  or  throwing  rifle  balls  from 
the  shore  into  their  beds,  is  sometimes  successful. 

Moonlight  Goose  shooting  has  not  been  a  general  prac- 
tice, but  as  these  birds  are  in  motion  during  light  nights,  they 
could  readily  be  brought  within  range  by  "  honking"  them 
when  fl3'ing.  This  sound  is  very  perfectly  imitated  at  Egg 
Harbour;  and  I  have  seen  Geese  drawn  at  a  right  angle  from 
their  course  by  this  note.  They  can  indeed  be  made  to 
hover  over  the  spot,  and  if  a  captive  bird  was  employed, 
the  success  would  become  certain. 

Stool  Ducks  are  little  known,  and  from  the  very  partial 
success  in  their  employment  the  last  fall  bj^  the  writer  and 
his  company,  their  usefulness  seems  very  problematical. 

The  art  of  shooting  a  Duck,  is  one  difficult  to  acquire, 
the  exceeding  rapidity  of  their  flight,  rendering  it  necessary 
to  direct  the  gun  in  advance,  in  proportion  to  their  distance. 

It  has  been  pretty  well  ascertained,  that  with  a  moderate 
wind,  most  of  these  birds  can  fly  at  the  rate  of  a  mile  in  a 
minute,  or  eighty-eight  feet  in  a  second;  and,  as  no  doubt 
an  appreciable  interval  must  elapse  from  the  passage  of  the 
load  from  the  barrel,  till  it  reaches  the  object,  in  a  distance 
of  one  hundred  yards,  an  idea  can  be  formed  of  the  neces- 
sity of  an  allowance  for  flight.  This  interval  is  so  distinct, 
that  on  most  occasions  the  shot  can  be  heard  to  strike,  even 
at  moderate  distances,  and  when  the  result  is  fatal.  Under 
ordinary  circumstances,  at  forty  yards  the  head  is  gene- 
rally aimed  at;  and  at  sixty,  from  six  inches  to  a  foot  is 
M 


given;  but,  with  a  stifi"  breeze  to  help  them,  even  three  or 
four  feet  becomes  necessary.  With  Swan  at  sixty  yards, 
the  head  is  still  aimed  at,  but  the  neck  prolongs  that  part 
to  two  feet  in  advance  of  the  body.  None  of  these  birds 
should  be  shot  at,  when  advancing,  for  the  thickness  of  the 
covering  of  the  breast,  as  well  as  its  rotunditj',  diminish 
the  chance  of  success;  but  experienced  Duck  shooters  allow 
the  bird  to  pass  by  them  entirely,  and  then  the  shot  strikes 
on  a  flatter  surface  as  under  the  wing,  and  also  passes  in 
with  the  direction  of  the  feathers.  The  same  latitude  of 
advance  need  not  be  allowed  with  the  percussion  gun,  as 
with  the  flint,  from  the  more  instantaneous  discharge,  and 
this  is  one  cause  of  failure  in  first  use,  and  hence  of  the 
prejudice  old  duckers  have  to  these  guns.  They  have  also 
conceived  that  a  certain  quantity  of  powder  was  necessary 
to  kill,  and  finding  that  this  proportion  produced  great 
recoil  and  uncertainty'  of  effect,  have  condemned  the  plan, 
without  ascertaining  that  less  powder  was  really  necessary, 
from  its  more  perfect  combustion.  Of  the  advantages  of 
the  percussion  over  the  common  gun  in  this  amusement, 
where  wet  days  are  often  the  most  successful,  nothing  need 
be  said  as  to  the  greater  certainty  of  explosion;  its  merits 
are  so  well  known,  that  in  two  years  there  will  probably  be 
few  flint  guns  on  the  bay. 

In  this  sport,  it  is  all  important  to  have  guns  that  can 
bear  a  heavy  charge  without  recoil,  as  great  weight  in  the 
breech.  Ordinary  fowling  pieces  will  not  bear  suflScient 
loads,  and  unless  the  bore  be  large,  with  a  proportionate 
thickness  of  barrel,  the  large  shot  to  be  thrown,  will  not 
kill  at  a  long  distance.  The  most  useful  proportion  for  a 
double  gun,  is,  weight  of  barrels  from  ten  to  eleven  pounds; 
length,  forty-two  inches ;  calibre,  thirteen-sixteenths  of  an 
inch.  This  proportion  has  been  ver}'  accurately  ascertain- 
ed, not  only  by  experiments  in  England,  but  even  in  our 
own  city;  and  within  two  years  many  such  guns  have  ar- 
rived, in  which  the  employment  has  confirmed  the  princi- 
ple. A  few  guns  are  in  use,  of  a  calibre  of  an  inch  and  a 
half,  and  a  weight  of  forty  pounds,  to  be  moved  on  a  swivel. 
These  have,  on  several  occasions,  killed  eighty,  or  one 
hundred  birds  at  a  time,  but  they  are  verj'  unwieldy,  and 
only  employed  when  the  Ducks  are  sitting.  The  size  of 
shot  best  adapted  to  this  sport,  is  still  a  disputed  point;  but 
the  writer,  and  many  of  his  friends,  have  arrived  at  the  con- 
clusion, that  BB  is  the  best  for  Ducks,  and  the  smallest 
mould  shot  for  Geese  and  Swan.  The  smaller  the  shot 
is,  the  greater  the  chance  of  striking,  from  the  increase 
of  the  number  of  pellets;  but  unless  it  be  of  good  size, 
it  will  not  enter  the  feathers,  and  Canvass  backs  are 
so  thickly  covered,  that  smaller  shot  will  rarely  kill. 
When  on  the  water  at  a  moderate  distance.  No.  1.  shot 
will  be  sufficiently  large,  and  there  being  nearly  double 


46 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY. 


the  number  of  pellets,  the  birds  struck  will  be  in  the  same 
ratio. 

But,  notwithstanding  the  apparent  facilities  that  are  offer- 
ed of  success,  this  amusement  is  probably  one  of  the  most 
exposing  to  cold  and  wet,  and  those  who  undertake  its  en- 
joyment without  a  courage  "  screwed  to  the  sticking  point," 
will  soon  discover  that 

"  To  one  good,  a  thousand  ills  oppose." 

It  is  indeed,  no  parlour  sport,  and  between  creeping 
through  mud  and  mire,  often  for  hundreds  of  yards,  to 
be  at  last  disappointed,  and  standing  exposed  on  points  to 
the 

"  Felling  rain,  or  more  llian  freezing  cold," 

for  hours  without  even  the  promise  of  a  shot,  it  would  even 
try  the  patience  of  Franklin's  glorious  nibbler.  It  is, 
however,  replete  with  excitement  and  charm,  and  to  one 
who  can  enter  on  the  pleasure,  with  a  system  formed  for 
polar  cold,  and  a  spirit  to  endure 

"  The  weary  toil  of  many  a  stormy  day," 

it  will  yield  a  harvest  of  health  and  delight,  that  the  "roam- 
er  of  the  woods"  can  rarely  enjoy.  I.  T.  S. 


ADVICE  TO  YOUNG  SPORTSMEN. 

When  young  men  first  take  the  field  in  pursuit  of 
game,  they  are  full  of  expectations,  excited  by  the  pros- 
pects of  enjoyment;  and,  possessing  youth,  health  and  ac- 
tivity, seldom  weigh  the  consequences  of  irregular  habits, 
or  the  evils  resulting  from  not  observing  a  proper  course  of 
conduct,  or  the  effect  which  the  errors  of  their  youth  may 
have  on  their  future  life.  Under  these  views,  I  have  sug- 
gested the  following  advice: 

In  associating  with  companions  for  your  hunting  excur- 
sions, choose,  if  possible,  those  who  are  calm  in  their  mind, 
and  deliberate  in  their  movements,  and  free  from  that  blus- 
tering spirit,  which  too  often  manifests  itself  in  sportsmen. 
You  will  thereby  avoid  much  danger,  and  those  accidents 
which  are  mostly  the  effect  of  rashness  and  carelessness. 

Shun  the  company  of  a  man  who  is  continually  cursing 
and  swearing  at  his  dogs,  or  on  the  slightest  provocation, 
especially  if  he  is  unsuccessful  in  his  enterprise,  for  it  com- 
monly happens,  that  persons  of  these  dispositions  and 
habits,  do  not  subject  themselves  to  restraint,  and  will  find 
excuse,  no  matter  how  trivial,  to  vend  their  anger,  most 
generally  on  their  dogs,  and  attribute  their  want  of  success 
to  the  error  of  these  animals,  when  it  originates  altogether 


in  their  own  turbulent  passions.  Shun  such  contaminating 
breath,  as  you  would  a  contagious  disease,  that  affects  your 
very  vitals. 

Never  swear  yourself,  nor  suffer  any  circumstance  to 
make  you  commit  yourself  in  a  way  that  you  would  con- 
demn in  others;  neither  permit  the  contingencies  attending 
hunting  excursions,  such  as  misbehaviour  of  your  com- 
panions, or  dogs,  to  ruffle  your  disposition  or  excite  anger; 
if  your  companion  claims  a  bird  to  which  you  are  entitled, 
or  which  has  been  shot  on  the  discharge  of  both  j'our  guns, 
compromise  your  feelings  and  let  him  have  it,  it  is  but  a 
bird,  and  not  worth  quarreling  about;  and,  if  he  has  been 
unjust  in  his  claim,  he  will  be  ashamed  of  it.  Should  your 
dog  commit  error,  chastise  him,  but  keep  yourself  free 
from  rage.  Observing  these  rules,  you  will  be  more  fitted 
for  the  pleasures  of  the  field,  more  successful  in  your  en- 
terprise, and  avoid  many  unpleasant  feelings  to  yourself 
and  companions ;  the  labours  of  the  day  will  end  with 
calmness  and  pleasure,  unmixed  with  rancorous  feelings, 
and  prove  a  period  of  recreation  rather  than  toil.  Choose 
cool  weather  for  your  season  of  shooting,  your  body  then 
is  more  invigorated,  and  you  will  prevent  considerable  ex- 
citement and  occasion  for  fever,  which  is  more  likely  to 
attend  warmer  weather;  beside,  you  perhaps  can  be  better 
spared  from  your  business. 

Do  not  let  your  excursions  be  marked  with  cruelty, 
either  towards  your  dogs,  or  the  innocent  objects  of  your 
search ;  let  a  moderate  quantity  of  game  suffice  you  always, 
and  be  not  ambitious  to  excel,  when  that  superiority  is  to 
be  gained  at  the  expense  of  much  life,  or  labour  ending  in 
great  fatigue  to  yourself.  Beware  displaying  your  art  by 
shooting  at  harmless  birds,  such  as  swallows,  robins,  &c. 
for  it  is  not  only  useless  as  a  plan  of  practising  to  shoot,  but 
cruel  and  disgraceful  to  him  who  employs  it. 

Disclaim  all  braggarts  of  shooting,  and  found  )-our  prin- 
ciples on  their  failure,  for  I  never  yet  saw  a  braggart,  but 
had  to  back  his  performances  with  heavy  oaths.  These, 
generally,  are  the  poorest  shots,  and  most  certainly  the 
worst  companions;  for  the  man  w-ho  makes  a  statement, 
and  endeavours  to  confirm  it  with  an  oath,  is  entirely  un- 
worthy of  confidence  and  respect;  beside,  persons  who 
habituate  themselves  to  this  disgraceful  and  ungentlemanly 
practice,  engender  feelings,  which  in  their  nature  are  not 
only  callous  to  truth,  but  to  every  sense  of  propriety;  and 
there  is  nothing  too  ridiculous  or  incredible,  either  for 
them  to  relate  as  truth,  or  to  be  swallowed  by  them  as  such, 
when  related  by  others;  this  is  strongly  verified  in  an  old 
saying,  "that  it  is  even  possible  for  a  man  to  tell  a  lie  so 
often,  as  to  believe  it  himself  for  truth."  This  principle  is 
more  common  amongst  those  who  idle  their  time  with  a 
gun,  lounge  about  taverns  and  drink  to  excess,  but  who,  in 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


47 


the  early  stages  of  their  career,  might  trace  their  decline  to 
a  "flask  of  brandy,"  which  they  always  provided  for 
their  hunting  excursions. 

I  would  advise  you,  therefore,  to  drink  no  spirituous 
liquors  whatever,  and  discourage  your  friends  from  pro- 
viding a  flask  of  brandy,  for  you  may  rest  assured  that  all 
artificial  stimulants  of  this  nature,  are  never  productive  of 
good,  but  injurious  to  the  health  and  disposition  of  those 
who  use  them,  for  they  only  excite  but  to  enervate,  and, 
are  oftentimes  productive  of  broils  between  friends,  wliich 
frequently  end  in  separation,  and  sometimes  deadly  strife. 
The  best  allay  for  thirst,  is  from  the  fountain  which  nature 
has  provided,  and  by  slaking  your  thirst  with  pure  water, 
you  will  be  enabled  to  withstand  the  fatigues  of  the  day 
with  more  comfort  both  to  j'our  body  and  mind. 

It  argues  much  against  those  who  make  frequent  applica- 
tions of  the  bottle,  or  are  stopping  at  every  tavern  to  pro- 
cure a  drink  of  liquor;  these  misgivings  and  derelictions  of 
principle  lead  to  further  vice,  and  frequently  bring  the 
sportsman  to  a  state  of  degradation,  and  the  exercise  of 
those  habits  which  render  him  noxious  to  his  family  and 
friends,  and  to  himself  a  source  of  disgust,  and  sometimes 
remorse. 

To  check  these  inroads  of  vice,  the  young  sportsman,  in 
the  commencement  of  his  career,  should  mark  out  for  his 
future  guidance,  certain  rules  from  which  he  ought  never 
depart;  these  rules  should  be  founded  on  good  principles, 
and  by  strictly  observing  them,  he  will  subject  all  his 
pleasures  to  a  proper  sphere,  tending  much  to  sweeten  life, 
and  rob  it  of  many  of  the  concomitant  evils,  with  which 
mortality  is  so  replete.  A  celebrated  writer  justly  ob- 
serves, "  that  benevolence  requires,  that  the  pleasures  of 
sense  should  be  made  entirely  subservient  to  health  of  body 
and  mind,  so  that  each  person  may  best  fill  his  place  in  life; 
best  perform  the  several  relative  duties  of  it;  and  as  far  as 
in  him  lies,  prolong  his  days  to  their  utmost  period,  free 
from  diseases  and  infirmities." 

Thus,  by  viewing  and  forming  all  your  gratifications  as 
subordinate  steps  to  health,  you  may  freely  in  this  restrict- 
ed sense,  pursue  the  various  modifications  of  pleasure,  as 
auxiliaries  to  the  enjoyment  of  life;  and  by  bridling  30ur 
desires,  and  discriminating  between  licentiousness  and 
the  moderate  enjoyment  of  pleasure,  and  scrupulously 
adhere  to  the  latter,  you  will  no  doubt  lessen  the  anx- 
iety of  indulgent  fathers,  or  earnest  solicitude  of  affec- 
tionate mothers  ;  escape  many  of  the  pains  and  ills  of  life, 
and  pass  down  to  a  good  old  age,  free  from  the  keen  retros- 
pection of  having  prodigally  wasted  your  early  days  in 
cruelty,  and  the  pursuit  of  those  enjoyments,  which  for- 
ever elude  the  grasp,  and  only  excite  hope,  in  order  to 
disappoint. 


ANECDOTE  OF  A  GREY  FOX. 

A  FEW  days  smce,  two  gentlemen  of  Burlington  coun- 
ty, N,  J.  went  out  to  hunt  rabbits,  each  provided  with  a 
gun,  and  but  one  dog.  In  a  low  bushy  swamp,  which 
they  had  just  entered,  the  dog  came  upon  the  form  of  a 
Grey  Fox.  Reynard,  of  course,  left  his  seat,  and  the 
party  went  off  in  keen  pursuit.  After  a  chase  of  about 
two  miles,  he  entered  a  very  dense  thicket,  composed  prin- 
cipally of  underbush  and  twigs,  and  making  a  circuit  of 
this  place,  in  order  to  deceive  his  enemies,  returned  to  the 
place  from  whence  he  was  first  started.  On  his  way 
thither,  one  of  the  persons  (they  had  by  this  time  sepa- 
rated) shot  at,  and  evidently  struck  him,  as  he  made  three 
or  four  somersets,  rolling  himself  into  the  form  of  a  ball, 
and  fell;  but,  instantly  recovering,  he  succeeded  in  reach- 
ing the  swamp,  hunted  closely  by  the  dog,  from  whence  he 
was  again  routed  by  his  industrious  pursuer.  He  now 
made  for  the  thicket  again,  two  miles  off;  chance  threw 
the  other  sportsman  in  his  way,  and  the  poor  Fox  fell 
apparently  dead  at  his  very  feet;  but,  ere  the  huntsman 
could  secure  him,  he  was  gone.  The  thicket  now  became 
the  scene  of  strife;  Reynard  played  off  his  cunning  full 
two  hours  and  a  half,  (part  of  which  was  by  moonlight)  but 
it  availed  him  nothing,  as  victory  was  decided  in  favour  of 
the  indefatigable  dog  and  his  masters,  and  our  friend  Vul- 
pes  was  sorely  discomfited:  he  was  carried  home  quite  de- 
funct as  they  thought,  and  thrown  into  a  corner  of  the 
room,  the  family  sat  down  to  supper;  Reynard  seeing  all 
busily  engaged,  ventured  to  reconnoitre,  and  had  cautiously 
raised  himself  on  his  fore  legs,  no  doubt  for  this  purpose, 
but  on  finding  himself  observed,  resumed  his  quiescent 
state:  one  of  the  party,  in  order  to  ascertain  whether  the 
Fox  was  really  alive,  or  not,  passed  a  piece  of  lighted 
paper  under  his  nose,  but  the  inanimate  log  or  stone  ap- 
peared not  more  senseless  at  that  moment.  Finding  all 
attempts  to  get  off  unavailing,  he  submitted  to  his  destiny 
with  a  very  good  grace,  and  next  morning  was  as  well  as 
ever,  bating  a  slight  wound  in  the  shoulder,  and  a  dirty 
skin.  Reynard,  we  understand,  is  to  be  kept  in  durance 
until  New  Year,  when  he  is  to  be  again  loosed  for  further 
sport;  but,  humanity  would  certainly  dictate  his  final  en- 
largement, especially  as  he  exercised  his  cunning  so  ad- 
mirably to  deceive  his  captors:  he  ma}^,  also,  have  suffered 
death  (in  imagination)  in  its  thousand  forms,  and,  although 
he  may,  in  former  days,  have  trespassed  on  some  good 
dame's  poultry  yard,  and  committed  sundry  other  depre- 
dations, such  as  stealing  whole  flocks  of  geese  by  floating 
silently  amongst,  and  drawing  them  one  by  one  under 
water,  &c.  &c. ;  we  still  think,  that  humanity  should  trace 
the  discriminating  line  between  cruelty  and  recreation, 
and  sufl'er  the  "  sly  intruder"  to  escape  with  his  life. 

Dec.  22,  1830.  T. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY, 


ANECDOTE  OF  A  WILD  GOOSE. 

Captain  S ,  of  N.  J.,  while  lying  at  anchor  with 

his  schooner,  ofif  Poole's  Island,  in  the  Chesapeake  Bay, 
observed  a  Wild  Goose,  (which  had  been  wounded)  attempt 
to  fly  from  the  top  of  a  hill  to  the  water,  but  being  unable 
to  reach  its  place  of  destination,  alighted  about  midway  of 
the  hill,  where  some  cattle  were  grazing;  one  of  which, 
seeing  the  stranger,  and  being  unable  exactly  to  make  out 
its  character,  walked  up,  as  is  commonly  the  case  with 
cattle,  to  smell  it.  The  Goose,  not  fancying  this  kind  of 
introduction,  and  perhaps  unacquainted  with  the  motives  of 
the  steer,  seized  him  by  the  nose  with  so  much  firmness, 
as  to  set  the  creature  bellowing,  and  actually  ran  off  a 
considerable  distance,  before  it  could  disengage  this  new 
enemy  from  its  hold.  The  Goose  then  made  for  the  bay, 
where  it  was  chased  by  two  boats  from  the  schooner,  and 
after  much  diversion,  and  an  hour  and  a  half's  labour,  they 
succeeded  in  capturing  it. 


wet,  cold,  and  hungry,  find  the  fire  out,  and  the  meal  pre- 
pared for  you  to  consist  of  stale  bread,  beefsteak  burnt  up, 
and  pye  with  crust  as  tough  as  sole  leather. 


COMFORTS  OF  A  SHOOTER. 

After  a  long  ride  to  your  hunting  ground,  and  find- 
ing plenty  of  game,  to  be  ordered  off  by  the  proprietor 
after  killing  but  one  bird;  or  wandering  a  long  distance,  to 
be  overtaken  by  a  heavy  and  continuous  rain,  or  to  be  con- 
fined to  the  house  in  consequence  of  a  tremendous  rain, 
after  having  travelled  the  day  before,  many  miles  with  a 
view  of  having  a  good  hunt. 

To  be  in  company  with  persons,  whose  dogs  always 
flush  the  game,  when  yours  are  at  a  stand ;  or  to  have  a 
companion,  who,  the  instant  the  dogs  point,  runs  up  and 
flushes  the  game,  before  you  get  within  shooting  distance, 
or  (especially  if  you  are  a  good  shot,  and  himself  an  infe- 
rior one)  makes  it  his  common  practice  to  shoot  at  the  same 
bird  with  yourself,  and  claim  it  as  having  been  killed  by 
him. 

To  have  a  companion,  who,  after  shooting  away  all  of 
his  powder  and  shot,  kills  but  one  bird,  attributes  the  fault 
to  the  gun,  shot,  or  powder,  and  vends  his  angry  feelings 
on  his  dog;  or,  after  hunting  all  day,  without  seeing  game, 
and  towards  evening  the  dogs  come  to  a  stand,  expectation 
on  tip-toe,  but  on  coming  up,  find  it  to  be  either  a  lark,  or 
where  some  partridges  have  been. 

To  be  in  company  with  a  stranger  who  professes  to  be  a 
great  shot,  but  on  trial  of  his  skill,  proves  him  as  likely  to 
shoot  yourself  or  the  dog,  as  the  bird  in  a  mistake;  or,  to 
be  intruded  upon  by  some  other  sportsman,  addicted  to 
cursing,  swearing,  and  hallooing  at  his  dogs,  sufficient  to 
alarm  a  whole  township. 

Comforting  yourself  in  your  ill-success,  with  a  prospect 
of  having  a  good  supper;  on   your  return   to  the  tavern, 


MISCEL.L,AXY. 


A  FRIEND  from  Pendleton  furnishes  us  with  the  fol- 
lowing item  of  sporting  intelligence.  A  young  gentleman 
in  Bath  county,  Mr.  John  Williams,  recently  killed  two 
large  bucks,  the  horns  of  which  were  so  interlocked  that 
they  could  not  disengage  themselves.  There  is  no  doubt 
they  had  had  a  combat,  and  from  observations  which  Mr. 
W.  made,  he  supposed  they  had  been  in  this  condition  for 
several  days.  The  horns  were  so  securely  fastened,  that 
he  could  not  separate  them  without  breaking  off  one  of  the 
prongs.  The  bucks  were  killed  at  two  shots,  and  the  one 
which  escaped  the  first  ball,  carried  the  other  about  one 
hundred  yards  before  he  met  a  leaden  death." — Staunton, 
[f^a.)  Sjjectator. 


RETALIATION. 
It  is  well  known  that  in  the  good  old  days  of  our 
fathers,  when  New  England  was  truly  the  land  of  steady 
habits,  there  would  occasionally  spring  up  a  volatile  and 
fun-loving  character,  whose  disposition  and  habits  formed 
a  striking  contrast  with  the  upright  and  conscientious  bear- 
ing of  the  puritans.  There  were  two  farmers  of  this  cast 
who  lived  very  near  each  other;  one  of  them  was  the 
owner  of  very  fine  sheep,  but  who,  having  a  decided  anti- 
pathy to  confinement  would  sometimes  trespass  on  the  en- 
closure of  their  master's  neighbour.  The  other  having 
caught  them  in  one  of  these  overt  acts,  determined  to  in- 
flict summary  vengeance  on  the  intruders  and  their  owner. 
With  this  intent  he  proceeded  to  catch  them,  and  running 
his  knife  through  one  of  their  hind  legs,  between  the  ten- 
don and  the  bone,  immediately  above  the  knee  joint,  put 
the  other  leg  through  the  hole.  In  this  condition  the 
woolly  flock  decamped,  leaving  one  quarter  less  tracks  than 
when  they  came.  The  feeder  of  sheep  kept  his  own  coun- 
sel; and  soon  after,  his  neighbour's  hogs  having  broken  or 
dug  into  his  enclosures,  he  took  advantage  of  this  opportu- 
nity for  retaliation  by  cutting  their  mouths  from  ear  to  ear. 
In  this  way  the  four  footed  grunters,  rather  chop  fallen, 
made  their  way  to  their  own  quarters.  The  owner  of  the 
swine  soon  made  his  appearance  in  a  great  rage,  declaring 
his  hogs  were  ruined,  and  that  he  would  have  redress.  His 
neighbour  made  answer,  that  it  was  he  who  ruined  them, 
"  For,  the  fact  is,  friend,  I  didn't  cut  open  them  are  hog's 
mouths,  but  seeing  my  sheep  running  on  three  legs,  they 
split  their  mouths  a  laughing. " 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


49 


NEWFOUNDLAND  DOG. 
C^NIS  FAMILMRIS.     VAR.  SENSILIS. 

[Plate  v.] 

Man  exercises  a  more  unlimited  and  singular  sway 
over  the  Dog,  than  over  any  other  any  other  animal;  this 
is  so  complete  that  the  whole  species  has  become  his  pro- 
perty, each  individual  of  it  being  identified  with  his  mas- 
ter, whose  orders,  and  even  whose  wishes,  he  is  always 
solicitous  to  execute;  he  adopts  his  manners,  and  surren- 
ders his  own  feelings  and  propensities  with  cheerfulness 
and  alacrity,  remaining  faithful  even  under  the  severest 
treatment;  he  calmly  suffers  and  forgets  the  most  cruel  out- 
rages, or  only  remembers  them  to  increase  his  devotion; 
and  all  this  originates  neither  from  necessity  or  constraint, 
but  appears  to  arise  from  innate  feelings  of  gratitude,  and 
true  friendship.  The  speed,  strength,  and  scent  of  the 
Dog,  have  constituted  him  a  powerful  ally  of  man  against 
other  animals,  and  his  services  have,  in  all  probability, 
contributed  in  no  slight  degree  to  have  reclaimed  man  from 
the  savage  state,  and  induced  him  to  adopt  the  pastoral,  or 
second  grade  of  civilization. 

In  fact,  it  must  be  evident  to  every  reflecting  mind,  that 
without  the  aid  of  this  faithful  animal,  man  could  never 
have  obtained  the  mastery  he  now  holds  over  the  rest  of 
creation.  To  conceive  the  importance  of  this  acquisition, 
let  it  be  supposed  that  it  had  never  been  attained.  With- 
out the  assistance  of  the  Dog,  how  could  man  have  attempt- 
ed to  reduce  the  other  animals  to  a  state  of  subjection?  For 
his  own  safety,  and  to  constitute  himself  master  of  the  ani- 
mated world,  it  was  absolutely  necessary  to  form  an  alli- 
ance with  some  of  the  animals  themselves,  and  to  conciliate 
such  as  were  capable  of  attachment  and  obedience,  in  order 
to  oppose  them  to  such  as  were  possessed  of  opposite  quali- 
ties. Hence,  the  domestication  of  the  Dog  seems  to  have 
been  almost  coeval  with  the  history  of  man  in  a  social  state, 
and  the  result  has  been  the  conquest  of  the  earth. 

The  generic  characters  of  the  Dog  are,  having  the  face 
prolonged,  and  the  naked,  glandulous  part  of  the  nose  more 
or  less  rounded;  the  cheeks  somewhat  elevated,  the  tongue 
smooth,  and  the  ears  erect,  and  pointed.  This  last  charac- 
ter, however,  becomes  altered  by  domestication.  Fore 
feet  with  five,  and  hinder  feet  with  four  toes,  provided 
with  strong,  slightly  curved  nails,  which  are  not  retractile, 
as  in  the  cats.  The  dental  system  in  this  genus  is  peculiar; 
there  are  in  all  forty-two  teeth,  namely,  twenty  in  the 
upper  jaw,  and  twenty-two  in  the  lower,  which  are  dis- 
posed as  follows:  Incisors  |,  canine  \z\,  molars  fif .  The 
incisors  are  placed  on  the  same  line,  and  are  trilobed  before 
they  have  been  much  used.  The  canines  are  conical, 
N 


acute,  and  smooth.  The  superior  molars  arc  six  in  num- 
ber, on  each  side,  viz.  three  small  acute  teeth  or  false  cut- 
ting molars,  having  a  single  lobe,  a  bicuspid  or  carnivo- 
rous, and  two  small  teeth  with  a  flat  crown.  The  inferior 
molars  are  seven  in  number,  on  each  side,  viz.  four  false 
molars,  a  carnivorous,  and  two  tuberculous  teeth.  This 
genus,  as  we  have  mentioned  in  a  former  number,  includes 
the  domestic  Dog,  the  fox,  the  wolf,  and  the  jackal.  All 
the  species  are  endowed  with  very  acute  senses,  especially 
that  of  smelling.  They  are  carnivorous,  even  feeding  on 
flesh,  when  in  a  putrid  state;  more  or  less  intelligent.  The 
generality  of  them  unite  in  troops,  for  the  purpose  of  taking 
their  prey,  which  they  follow  by  the  scent.  Some  species 
live  in  burrows,  but  the  greatest  number  inhabit  woods  and 
thickets. 

The  specific  characters  of  the  domestic  Dog,  as  given  by 
Desmarest,  are;  tail  curved  upwards  in  a  greater  or  less 
degree ;  face  more  or  less  prolonged,  or  shortened ;  hair 
very  various  as  to  colour,  though  in  almost  every  in- 
stance where  the  tail  is  varied  with  white,  this  colour  is 
terminal.  Linnaeus  assigned  as  a  character  of  this  species, 
that  the  tail  inclined  to  the  left  side,  but  this,  daily  obser- 
vation proves  to  be  incorrect. 

To  dwell  at  greater  length  on  the  description  or  particu- 
lar qualities  of  this  well  known  animal,  would  be  superflu- 
ous. Instead,  therefore,  of  entering  into  a  detail  of  his 
character  and  uses,  we  shall  principally  call  the  attention  of 
our  readers  to  the  diflerent  opinions  of  naturalists,  as  res- 
pects the  original  species,  with  a  few  instances  of  his  saga- 
city, attachment,  and  perseverance,  as  have  occurred  in  the 
course  of  our  reading. 

It  must  be  obvious,  even  to  the  most  unobservant,  how 
exceedingly  Dogs  difler,  not  only  in  their  habits,  faculties, 
and  propensities,  but  also  in  the  form  and  proportions  of 
their  bodies,  the  infinite  and  incessant  mixture  of  races, 
and  the  ramification  of  crosses,  rendering  it  almost  impos- 
sible to  enumerate  each  distinct  breed  or  variety.  This 
however,  has  been  attempted  by  several  naturalists.  The 
first  systematic  arrangement  of  these  animals,  which  we 
have  inet  with,  is  that  of  Dr.  Caius,  who  divides  them  into 
three  classes:  1.  Those  of  a  generous  nature.  2.  Farm 
Dogs;  and  3.  Mongrels.  After  the  time  of  this  author, 
numbers  of  classifications  have  been  given,  all-  more  or  less 
defective.  Buffon  has  drawn  up  an  elaborate  genealogical 
table  to  prove  that  all  the  varieties  may  be  traced  back  to 
the  shepherd's  dog,  which  he  considers  the  original  type, 
from  its  great  sagacity.  In  this  table  he  not  only  attempts 
to  class  the  difierent  varieties,  but  also  to  give  an  idea  of 
the  mode  in  which  they  have  been  produced,  by  the  influ- 
ence of  climate,  and  the  commixture  of  breeds.  It  is  con- 
structed in  the  form  of  a  geographical  chart,  so  as  to  pre- 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


serve  as  much  as  possible  the  position  of  the  different  cli- 
mates in  which  each  variety  is  found.  As  has  already  been 
mentioned,  the  shepherd's  Dog  is  assumed  as  the  starting 
point.  This  variety,  when  transported  into  cold  regions, 
becomes  ugly  and  small;  though  in  Russia  he  still  main- 
tains his  distinctive  characters;  in  temperate  climates,  and 
among  perfectly  civilised  nations,  he  loses  his  savage  air, 
his  erect  ears,  his  rude  long  hair,  and  assumes  the  form  of 
the  mastiff,  bull  dog,  or  hound,  which  latter  is  the  most  dis- 
tant remove  from  the  original  stock.  The  hound,  setter, 
and  terrier,  are  of  the  same  race,  according  to  Buffon,  and 
he  states,  that  the  same  birth  has  produced  all  these  varie- 
ties. If  the  hound  be  transported  to  Spain  or  Barbary,  it 
will  become  either  a  spaniel  or  water  Dog.  The  Irish  grey- 
hound, when  taken  to  the  north,  is  converted  into  the  great 
Danish  Dog;  and  when  transported  to  the  south,  becomes 
the  common  greyhound.  But  it  would  be  useless  to  pur- 
sue the  opinions  of  this  beautiful  but  theoretical  writer,  to 
a  greater  length,  particularly  as  it  is  by  no  means  proved 
that  the  original  stock  was  identical  with  the  shepherd's 
Dog. 

Pennant  has  also  given  an  arrangement  of  these  animals, 
which  is  tolerably  correct,  though  it  is  still  deficient  in 
rtiany  particulars.  The  best  which  has  been  presented  to 
the  world,  is  that  of  F.  Cuvier,  who  has  paid  much  atten- 
tion to  this  intricate  subject;  this  classification,  which  dif- 
fers much  from  that  of  Buffon,  has  also  been  adopted  by 
Desmarest,  and  is  as  follows.  He  first  divides  them  into 
three  groups;  Matins,  Spaniels,  and  Dogues. 

I.  Matins,  or  those  Dogs  having  more  or  less  elongated 
head,  the  parietal  bones  approaching  each  other,  and  the 
condyles  of  the  lower  jaw  placed  in  a  horizontal  line  with 
the  upper  jaw  teeth. 

Var.  A.  New  Holland  Dog.  C.f.  Australasia.  Desm. 
Dingo.  Shaw.     Inhabits  New  Holland. 

B.  French  Matin.    C.f.  laniarius.  Linn.  Matin, 

Buffon.     France. 

C.  Danish  Dog.      C.  f.   Danicus.    Desm.  Grand 

Danois.  Buffon. 

D.  Grey  hound.     C  grains.  Linn.  Levrier,  Buf- 

fon.   This  variety  is  still  further  subdivided. 

a.  Irish  grey  hound. 

b.  Scotch  grey  hound. 

c.  Russian  grey  hound. 

d.  Italian  grey  hound. 

e.  Turkish  grey  hound. 

In  this  group  may  also  be  placed  the  Mhanian  Dog. 

II.  Spaniels,  or  Dogs  having  the  head  very  moderately 
elongated,  the  parietal  bones  do  not  approach  each  other 
above  the  temples,  but  diverge  and  swell  out  so  as  to  en- 
large the  forehead  and  cerebral  cavity. 


Var.  E.   Spaniel.     C.  f.  extraritis.  Linn.    This  also,  is 
divided  into  many  subvarieties. 
a.   Small  spaniel.     Le  petit  epagneul.  Bvffon. 
h.   King  Charles's  spaniel.    C.  brevipilis.  Linn. 
Le  Gredin.  Buffon. 

c.  Le  Pyrame.  Buffon.     We  have  no  Eng- 

lish name  for  this  Dog 

d.  Maltese  Dog.    C.  melitaus.  Bichon.   Buff. 

e.  Lion  Dog.    C.  leoninus.  Linn. 

f.  Calabrian  Dog.      This  variety  is  originally 

from  Spain,  hence  its  English  name. 

F.  Water  spaniel.     C.  aquaticus.  Linn.     Grand 

barbet.  Buffon. 

a.  Small  water  spaniel.   Petit  barbet.  BtrrFON. 

b.  Le  Griffon.     The  intelligence  of  these  Dogs 

appears  to  be  more  suceptible  of  develop- 
ment than  in  any  of  the  other  varieties. 

G.  Hound.    C.  f.  gallicus.   Linn.     Chien  cou- 

rant.  Buffon. 
H.  Pointer.      C   avicularius.    Linn.      Braque. 

Buffon. 
a.   Dalmatian   pointer.     Braque    de    Bengal. 

Buffon. 
I.    Turnspit.      C.  f.  vertagus.  Linn.     Basset  a 

jambes  droites.  Buffon. 

a.  Crooked  legged  turnspit.     Basset  a  jambes 

torses.  Buffon. 

b.  Chien  burgos.  Buffon. 

K.   Shepherd's  Dog.      C.  f.  domesticus.  Linn. 
L.  Wolf  Dog.      C.  pomeranus.  Linn. 
M.  Siberian  Dog.      C.  sibiricus.  Linn. 
N.  Esquimaux  Dog.      C.  f.  borealis.  Desm. 
0.   The  Alco.      C.  /  americanus.  Linn.    To  this 
group  should  also  be  added,  the  Alpine  span- 
iel, the  Newfoundland  Dog,  the  setter,  and 
the  terrier. 
III.     Dogues,  or  Dogs  having  the  muzzle  more  or  less 
shortened,  the  skull  high;    the  frontal  sinuses  large;  the 
condyle  of  the  lower  jaw  extending  above  the  line  of  the 
upper  jaw  teeth.     The  cranium  is  smaller  than  in  the  two 
preceding  groups. 

Var.   P.  Bull  Dog.     C.f.  molossus.  Linn. 
a.   Thibet  Dog. 
Q.   Mastiff.      C.  f  anglicus.  Linn. 
R.   Pug  Dog.     C.f.  fricator.  Linn.     Le  doguin. 

Buffon. 
S.    Iceland  Dog.      C.  f.  islandicus.  Linn. 
T.  Small  Danish  Dog.     C.  f.  variegatus.  Linn. 
U.  Bastard   Pug.      C.  f.    hybridus.    Linn.     Le 

roquet.  Buffon. 
V.  English  Dog.     C.f.  britannicus.  Desm. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


Var.   X.   Artois  Dog.     Nearly   approaching,    and   per- 
haps derived  from  R.,  now  extinct. 
Y.   Andalusian    Dog.      C.  f.  andalusia.    Desm. 

Chien  de  cayenne. 
Z.  Barbary  Dog.     C.  f.  segyptius.  Linn.      Chien 
liD-c.  BurroN. 
It  will  be  perceived,  that  this  list  only  includes  the  well- 
marked  varieties;  there  are  hundreds  of  others,  of  which  it 
is  impossible  to  give  any  distinctive  characters.     Most  of 
these   are   termed  Mongrels,  and  by  the  French,  chiens 
de  rve. 

When  we  consider  even  these  varieties,  it  is  evident,  that 
the  modifications  of  the  original  species  have  been  immense, 
and  that  they  have  existed  for  so  great  a  length  of  time,  as 
to  render  it  almost  impossible  to  come  to  any  definite  con- 
clusion on  the  subject;  since,  however,  the  shape  of  the 
head  has  attracted  the  attention  of  naturalists,  it  has  been 
found  that  some  domesticated  Dogs  correspond  in  this  part 
of  their  configuration  with  the  wild  species  much  more  than 
others,  rendering  it  more  than  probable,  that  they  are  all 
collateral  ramifications  of  the  same  original  stock. 

At  the  same  time  that  this  is  admitted,  it  must  be  confess- 
ed that  the  perplexities  attendant  on  this  intricate  point, 
although  lessened,  are  by  no  means  removed,  for  the  ques- 
tion immediately  recurs,  what  is  this  original  stock,  or 
primitive  species  ?  Is  it  the  shepherd's  Dog,  as  supposed 
by  Bufibn;  or,  did  it  arise  from  a  union  between  the  seve- 
ral species  of  the  genus  Canis;  or  finally,  is  it  one  or  other 
of  these  species,  modified  by  domestication,  and  other  con- 
curring circumstances? 

From  some  experiments,  which  appear  to  have  been 
conducted  with  great  care,  Bufibn  is  of  opinion,  as  before 
stated,  that  the  wolf  and  the  fox  are  widely  different  in 
their  natures  from  the  Dog,  and  that  their  species  are  so 
distinct  and  remote  from  each  other,  as  to  prevent  any  sex- 
ual intercouse,  at  least,  in  a  state  of  captivity,  and  observes 
"  that  the  Dog  did  not  derive  his  origin  from  either  the 
wolf  or  the  fox,  and  that  those  who  regard  these  two  ani- 
mals as  wild  dogs,  or  vvho  imagine  the  Dog  to  be  a  wolf  or 
fox  become  domesticated,  have  deceived  themselves. 

In  this,  however,  BuflTon  himself  fell  into  an  error,  as 
Pennant,  Daniel,  Pallas,  and  others,  all  bring  proofs  that 
intercourse  has  taken  place  among  the  various  species  of 
the  Dog  kind  and  their  congenus,  but  also,  that  these  occur- 
rences are  by  no  means  uncommon.  In  a  menagerie, 
which  was  exhibited  in  1S28,  in  England,  were  two  ani- 
mals, from  a  cross  between  the  wolf  and  the  domestic  Dog, 
which  had  been  bred  in  that  country.  A  similar  circum- 
stance is  related  by  the  celebrated  John  Hunter,  in  the 
Philosophical  Transactions  for  1787,  and  he  thinks  that  it 
establishes  the  fact  of  the  wolf  and  the  Dog  being  of  the 


same  species;  and,  on  the  same  ground,  deduces  the  iden- 
tity of  the  Dog  and  the  jackal.  This  idea  is  also  held  by 
Pennant,  who  says,  that  the  original  stock  of  Dogs  in  the 
old  world,  is  derived  from  the  above  mentioned  animals, 
and  that  their  tamed  oflspring,  crossed  with  each  other  and 
with  their  parent  stock,  have  gradually  given  rise  to  the 
numerous  forms  and  sizes  of  the  canine  race. 

There  is  one  great  obstacle  to  the  adoption  of  these  opi- 
nions, arising  from  the  manner  in  which  all  varieties  of  the 
Dog  carry  their  tails,  differing  in  this  respect  from  all  the 
other  species  of  the  genus.  Even  the  Esquimaux  Dog, 
which  is  in  a  half-reclaimed  state,  invariably  carries  his 
tail  turned  upward,  whilst  in  the  wolf  of  the  same  district, 
which  he  so  closely  resembles,  it  generally  drops,  espe- 
cially when  running.  Dr.  Richardson,  however,  states, 
"  that  the  latter  practice  (of  curving  the  tail  upwards)  is  not 
totally  unknown  to  the  wolf;  although  that  animal,  when 
under  the  observation  of  man,  being  generally  apprehensive 
of  change,  or  on  the  watch,  seldom  displays  this  mark  of 
satisfaction.  I  have,  however,  seen  a  family  of  wolves  play- 
ing together,  occasionally  carry  their  tails  curled  upwards." 

From  a  careful  investigation  of  all  the  information  we 
have  been  able  to  attain  on  this  point,  the  opinion  of  ButTon, 
that  the  Dog  is  a  separate  and  distinct  species,  appears  the 
most  plausible,  though  whether  the  shepherd's  dog  was 
the  originial  stock  from  which  the  numberless  varieties 
now  existing  are  derived,  is  very  problematical. 

The  wild  dogs  now  found  in  various  parts  of  the  world, 
all  appear  to  have  originated  from  some  of  the  domestic 
varieties,  and  to  be  easily  reclaimable,  never  losing  their 
respect  for  the  human  species.  In  fact,  these  animals  never 
voluntarily  separate  themselves  from  man;  even  where  they 
have  no  individual  masters,  they  still  frequent  his  abode. 
Thus  they  are  found  in  this  half-wild  state  in  Lisbon,  and 
in  most  of  the  Asiatic  cities.  In  Cuba  and  India,  however, 
they  have  partially  assumed  their  native  habits,  hunting  in 
packs,  attacking  and  overcoming  much  superior  animals, 
from  their  numbers. 

The  females  go  with  young  about  sixty-three  days,  and 
generally  produce  from  three  to  five  at  a  birth,  though,  in 
some  instances,  the  litters  are  much  larger.  The  puppies 
are  born  blind,  the  eye  being  closed  with  a  membranous 
substance,  which,  in  about  nine  or  ten  days,  is  ruptured 
by  the  action  of  the  upper  eye-lid.  They  also  have  their 
muzzle  short  and  full,  even  in  the  varieties  having  elon- 
gated faces,  as  the  greyhound;  at  the  end  of  two  months 
they  begin  to  display  their  character,  and  to  grow  rapidly. 
In  the  fifth  and  sixth  month  they  commence  to  shed  their 
teeth,  which  are  replaced,  as  in  man,  with  others,  which 
are  never  renewed.  In  the  first  months  of  their  existence, 
both  sexes  discharge  their  urine  in  squatting  down,  but 


52 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


towards  the  end  of  a  year  the  Dog  raises  his  leg  in  perform- 
ing this  act.  The  duration  of  a  Dog's  life  is  usually  about 
fourteen  or  fifteen  years,  but  they  frequently  suffer  much 
from  the  effects  of  age.  It  is  said,  that  the  probable  age  of 
a  Dog  can  be  ascertained  b}^  an  examination  of  his  teeth; 
in  the  earlier  3'ears  they  are  exceedingly  white  and  sharp 
pointed;  but  the  farther  he  advances  in  life,  the  more  they 
become  covered  with  calculous  scales  near  the  gums,  dis- 
coloured in  all  parts,  and  blunt  and  unequal  at  their  points; 
but  a  still  more  certain  indication  of  age,  is  a  gray  and 
hoary  tinge  above  the  nose  to  the  eyes,  and  upon  the  front; 
this  begins  to  appear  about  the  tenth  or  eleventh  year,  and 
continues  to  increase  till  the  last  stage  of  life. 

As  we  have  already  observed,  the  Dog  is  carnivorous; 
he  does  not,  however,  eat  every  kind  of  animal  food  indis- 
criminately. Thus,  most  of  the  water  birds,  which  have 
a  strong  fishy  taste,  are  rejected  by  him,  except  when 
urged  by  great  hunger.  He  is  possessed  of  such  strong  di- 
gestive powers,  as  to  derive  nourishment  from  the  hardest 
bones.  When  flesh  cannot  be  procured  he  will  feed  on  fish, 
fruits,  succulent  vegetables,  and  bread;  and,  indeed,  in 
those  countries  where  dog's  flesh  is  considered  as  a  gastro- 
nomic delicacy,  he  is  wholly  fed  on  vegetable  food.  The 
Dog  drinks  by  lapping  up  the  water  with  his  tongue;  this 
organ,  also,  is  the  only  part  of  his  body  from  which  he 
perspires,  hence,  whenever  he  is  using  any  violent  exer- 
cise, it  is  suffered  to  loll  out  of  the  mouth.  Before  lying 
down,  he  generally  walks  several  times  round  the  spot  on 
which  he  intends  to  repose.  He  sleeps  but  little,  and  sel- 
dom profoundly,  the  slightest  noise  causing  him  to  spring 
up.  During  the  time  he  is  asleep,  he  frequently  starts,  or 
has  a  tremulous  motion  in  his  limbs. 

Besides  the  usual  employment  of  Dogs  in  this  country, 
as  guards,  or  for  the  chase,  they  are  extensively  used  by 
many  nations  to  draw  burdens,  particularly  among  the  in- 
habitants of  the  northern  parts  of  this  continent;  and  the 
weights  they  are  capable  of  moving,  especially  over  the 
ice,  are  truly  astonishing.  Captain  Lyon,  to  whom  we 
are  indebted  for  an  exceedingly  interesting  account  of  the 
Esquimaux  variety  of  this  animal,  says  he  has  seen  a  Dog 
draw  one  hundred  and  ninety-six  pounds,  the  distance  of 
a  mile,  in  eight  minutes.  But  their  use  as  beasts  of  draught 
is  not  confined  to  these  nations,  the  inhabitants  of  Holland 
have  long  used  them  for  this  purpose,  and  nothing  is  more 
common  in  Paris,  than  to  see  these  animals  dragging  small 
carts  with  vegetables  and  meat. 

In  some  countries  the  flesh  of  the  Dog  is  considered  as  a 
great  luxury;  this  is  especially  the  case  in  China,  and  in 
New  Zealand.  When  used  for  this  purpose,  they  are  never 
suffered  to  eat  animal  food,  but  are  kept  in  cages,  and  fat- 


tened with  vegetables.  They  are  killed  by  strangling,  and 
the  extravasated  blood  is  carefully  collected,  and  also  forms 
a  culinary  delicacy.  They  grow  very  fat,  and  are  allowed, 
even  by  such  of  our  countrymen  as  have  tasted  their  flesh, 
to  be  very  palatable.  But  the  taste  for  the  flesh  of  these 
quadrupeds  is  not  confined  to  the  Asiatic  countries,  some 
of  the  Indian  nations  of  this  continent  have  the  same  taste. 
We  also  find  that  the  ancients  considered  the  flesh  of  young 
dogs  to  be  excellent  food.  Hippocrates  placed  it  on  a  foot- 
ing with  beef  and  mutton;  the  Romans,  who  were  no  slight 
adepts  in  the  gastronomic  art,  likewise  admitted  sucking 
puppies  among  their  delicacies. 

Unfortunately,  this  sagacious  and  faithful  animal  is  liable 
to  disease,  which  is  communicable  to  almost  all  animals  that 
he  may  bite  whilst  labouring  under  it;  the  human  species 
appears  to  be  peculiarly  liable,  under  such  circumstances, 
to  be  inoculated  with  this  horrible,  and,  alas!  almost  incu- 
rable malady.  As  other  temporary  diseases  are  sometimes 
mistaken  for  hydrophobia,  we  are  induced  to  subjoin  the 
following  account  of  the  symptoms,  as  laid  down  in  a  work 
on  this  disorder,  by  Chaussier  and  Orfila. 

"When  this  disease  is  in  its  forming  stage,  a  Dog  is 
sick,  languid,  and  more  dull  than  usual.  He  seeks  retired 
spots,  remains  in  a  corner,  does  not  bark,  but  growls  con- 
tinually, at  strangers,  and  refuses  to  eat  or  drink,  without 
any  apparent  cause.  His  motions  are  unsteady,  resembling 
those  of  a  man  almost  asleep.  At  the  end  of  three  or  four 
days,  he  leaves  his  master's  house,  and  roves  about  in  all 
directions;  walking  or  running  as  if  intoxicated,  and  has 
frequent  falls.  His  hair  is  bristled  up,  his  eyes  haggard, 
fixed  and  sparkling;  his  head  hangs  down;  his  mouth  is 
open,  and  full  of  frothy  saliva;  his  tongue  is  protruded, 
and  his  tail  hangs  between  his  legs.  He  has,  in  most  cases, 
but  not  invariably,  a  horror  of  water,  the  aspect  of  which 
seems  to  exasperate  his  sufl'erings.  He  experiences,  at  re- 
peated intervals,  transports  of  fury,  and  strives  to  bite 
every  object  which  presents  itself,  not  even  excepting  his 
own  master,  whom,  in  fact,  he  now  scarcely  recognizes. 
At  the  end  of  about  thirty-six  hours  he  dies  in  convul- 
sions." 

There  are  few  diseases  in  which  quacks  have  more  suc- 
cessfully imposed  on  the  credulity  of  mankind,  or  in  which 
even  the  best  directed  treatment  has  proved  more  ineffec- 
tual. At  one  time,  great  reliance  was  placed  in  the  Orms- 
kirk  remedy,  which  was  superseded  by  a  host  of  pretended 
antidotes  derived  from  the  vegetable  kingdom,  and  what  is 
extraordinary,  from  the  most  inert  of  these  productions, 
such  as  chickweed,  anagalis,  water  plaintain,  and  the 
skull-cap,  none  of  which  possess  the  slightest  medical  pro- 
perties.     Some  persons  rely  on  what  is  termed  worming 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


a  Dog,  as  a  preventative  to  his  being  attacked  with  mad- 
ness; this  is  absurd  and  utterly  useless.'*  The  nature  of  our 
work  will  not  permit  us  to  enter  on  this  subject  at  greater 
length,  we  must  therefore  refer  such  of  our  readers  as  wish 
further  information  on  the  subject,  to  the  treatise  above 
alluded  to.  There  is  one  precaution,  however,  that  should 
always  be  borne  in  mind;  that  where  a  dog  bites  any  per- 
son, the  animal  should  not  be  killed,  but,  should  be  se- 
curely confined,  that  the  fact  of  the  madness  may  be  posi- 
tively ascertained. 

The  variety  of  Dog  so  well  known  under  the  name  of 
Newfoundland,  has  generally  been  considered  by  Natural- 
ists as  a  mongrel,  allied  to  the  Esquimaux  and  Indian;  but 
this  opinion  is  evidentl)^  erroneous,  as  he  differs  from  those 
varieties  in  the  form  of  his  head,  and  the  general  robust- 
ness of  his  figure.  When  full  bred  and  uncontaminated  by 
the  blood  of  any  inferior  variety,  he  is  certainly  the  most 
imposing  and  noble  of  the  canine  race.  Although,  at  first 
sight,  his  great  size  and  strength  convey  a  sensation  of  fear, 
the  mild  and  expressive  character  of  his  countenance  mani- 
fests that  ferocity  is  far  from  being  a  predominant  or  dis- 
tinguishing trait  of  his  character. 

Extremely  docile  and  affectionate,  this  Dog  maj^  be 
taught  to  perform  actions  which  appear  almost  incredible, 
and  which,  seemingly,  require  no  slight  exercise  of  the 
reasoning  faculties.  Equally  sagacious  as  persevering,  he 
never  relinquishes  an  undertaking  as  long  as  there  remains 
the  most  distant  hope  of  success.  He  seldom  or  ever  offers 
offence,  but  will  not  receive  an  insult  or  injury  with  im- 
punity. The  great  pliability  of  his  temper,  peculiarly  fits 
him  for  the  use  of  man,  as  he  never  shrinks  from  any  task 
that  may  be  assigned  him,  but  undertakes  it  with  an  ardour 
proportioned  to  the  difficulty  of  the  execution.  A  full 
sized  Newfoundland  Dog,  from  the  nose  to  the  end  of  the 
tail,  measures  about  six  feet  and  a  half,  the  length  of  the 
tail  being  about  two  feet ;  from  one  fore  foot  to  the  other 
over  the  shoulders,  three  feet  four  inches;  round  the  head 
across  the  ears,  two  feet;  round  the  upper  part  of  the  fore 
leg,  ten  inches;  length  of  the  head,  fourteen  inches.  The 
feet  are  webbed,  by  which  means  he  can  swim  with  great 
quickness  and  facility.  The  body  is  covered  with  long 
shaggy  hair;  that  on  the  legs  and  tail  being  very  thick  and 


*  As  some  of  our  readers  may  be  unacquainled  -nilh  this  operation,  we  sub- 
join it.  The  worm,  as  it  is  termed,  is  the  ligament  which  connects  the  tongue  to 
the  under  part  of  the  mouth.  The  tongue  is  to  be  raised,  and  the  skin  which 
covers  the  worm  slit;  a  small  awl  is  then  to  be  introduced  under  the  centre  of  it, 
to  raise  it  up ;  the  farther  end  will  make  its  appearance  by  a  little  force  being 
used,  and  by  being  taken  hold  of  with  apiece  of  cloth,  it  may  be  easily  removed. 
Great  care  must  be  taken  not  to  break  it.  This  operation  should  be  performed 
at  the  time  the  pups  are  removed  from  the  mother.  It  is  said  to  prevent  the  Dog 
from  biting,  if  he  should  be  affected  with  madness,  and  to  have  proved  perfectly 
efficacious  in  more  than  one  instance;  but  this  is  at  best  but  problematical. 


long.  This  Dog  is  not  remarkable  for  symmetry  of  pro- 
portions, and  his  motions  are  heavy;  consequentlj',  he  is 
not  distinguished  for  speed. 

We  are  indebted  to  J.  Browne  Smith,  Esq.  for  an  op- 
portunity of  figuring  this  majestic  animal,  from  a  remarka- 
bly fine  and  well  marked  specimen  in  his  possession.  The 
Philadelphia  Museum  is  also  enriched  by  a  well  prepared 
example  of  this  Dog,  which  formerly  belonged  to  Mr. 
Wistar,  of  Germantown.  Both  these  animals,  though  not 
so  large  as  the  dimensions  we  have  just  given,  afford  excel- 
lent criteria  of  the  form  and  general  proportions  of  the 
animal. 

The  Newfoundland  Dog  is  habitually  used  in  its  native 
country,  for  the  purposes  of  draught.  They  are  easily 
broken  in,  and  soon  inured  to  the  trammels  of  harness; 
three,  four,  or  five  are  used  in  a  sledge  or  other  vehicle, 
and  will  convey  a  load  of  some  hundreds  weight  for  many 
miles  with  great  ease.  This,  when  once  instructed  in  and 
accustomed  to  the  road,  they  will  do  without  any  super- 
vision; and  having  delivered  the  load  with  which  they 
have  been  entrusted,  will  return  to  the  residence  of  their 
master,  to  receive  their  accustomed  food,  which  generally 
consists  of  fish,  either  fresh  or  in  a  dried  state,  of  both  of 
which  they  are  said  to  be  extremely  fond.  Captain  Brown* 
states,  that  in  ISIO,  it  was  computed  that  there  were  up- 
wards of  two  thousand  of  these  Dogs,  at  and  in  the  vici- 
nity of  St.  John's,  Newfoundland.  They  are  left  to  shift 
for  themselves  during  the  whole  summer,  and  are  not  only 
troublesome  to  the  inhabitants,  but  become  absolute  nui- 
sances, from  starvation  and  disease.  Contrary  to  their 
natural  disposition,  where  properly  taken  care  of,  under 
these  circumstances,  they  assemble  in  packs  and  prowl 
about  like  wolves  for  their  prey,  destroying  sheep,  poultiy, 
and  every  thing  eatable  within  their  reach.  When  the 
fishing  season  is  over,  and  their  inhuman  masters  again  re- 
quire their  services,  they  are  reclaimed,  and  submit  with 
cheerfulness  to  the  tasks  which  are  assigned  them.  The 
same  author  states,  that  this  reclamation  always  gives  rise  to 
much  confusion  and  litigation,  the  value  of  these  periodi- 
cally deserted  animals  being  estimated  at  from  two  to  eight 
pounds  each. 

In  the  year  1815,  a  dangerous  disease  resembling  hydro- 
phobia appeared  among  them,  owing,  as  was  generall}^ 
supposed,  to  the  hardships  and  starvation  to  which  they 
were  subjected.  Persons  bitten  by  them  exhibited  no 
symptoms  of  hydrophobia;  and  the  disease  was  attributed, 
by  the  medical  men  of  the  island,  to  a  fever  induced  by 
severe  labour  with  insufficient  nourishment  upon  salted 
food,  and  a  scarcity  of  water,  caused  by  the  frozen  state  of 

*  Biographical  Sketches  and  Authentic  Anecdotes  of  Dogs,  p.  198 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


all  the  streams.  Even  while  it  is  plenty,  their  unfeeling 
proprietors  scarcely  allow  the  exhausted  animals  time  to 
slake  their  thirst. 

The  qualifications  of  this  Dog  are  not,  however,  confined 
to  drawing  burdens;  as  a  watch  Dog  he  is  far  more  intelli- 
gent, and  more  to  be  depended  on  than  the  mastiff;  and  his 
services  on  navigable  rivers  are  unequalled  by  any  other  of 
the  species;  he  has  even  been  broken  in  as  a  pointer,  his 
sagacity  and  docility  rendering  his  training  an  easy  task. 

There  are,  however,  some  faults  to  which  he  is  unfortu- 
nately too  prone; — he  is  a  most  implacable  enemy  to  sheep; 
when  engaged  in  chase  of  a  flock  of  these  animals,  he  gene- 
rally singles  out  one  of  them,  and  if  not  prevented,  which 
is  no  easy  task,  will  never  relinquish  the  pursuit  until  he 
has  attained  and  mastered  his  victim.  He  always  aims  at 
the  throat,  but  after  having  sucked  the  blood,  leaves  the 
carcass.  He  is,  also,  but  too  often  inclined  to  be  jealous  of 
attentions  paid  by  his  master,  either  to  other  Dogs,  or  even 
to  children,  of  this  disposition  we  are  acquainted  with 
many  instances. 

The  Newfoundland  Dog  in  his  native  country,  seldom 
barks,  and  that,  only  when  much  provoked.  His  utter- 
ance appears  an  unnatural  exertion,  producing  a  noise  be- 
tween a  bark  and  a  growl.  His  well  known  partiality  for 
water,  in  which  he  appears  in  his  proper  element,  diving 
and  keeping  beneath  the  surface  for  a  considerable  time, 
need  not  be  commented  on.  The  generality  of  the  Dogs 
known  under  the  name  of  Newfoundland,  both  in  England 
and  this  country,  are  only  half  bred. 

We  subjoin  a  few  anecdotes  of  this  animal,  which  we  have 
derived  from  the  work  above  cited. 

One  of  the  magistrates  of  Harbour  Grace  had  an  animal 
of  this  kind,  which  was  in  the  habit  of  carrying  a  lantern 
before  his  master  at  night,  as  steadily  as  the  most  attentive 
servant  could  do;  stopping  short  when  he  made  a  stop,  and 
proceeding  when  he  saw  him  disposed  to  follow.  If  his 
owner  was  from  home,  as  soon  as  the  lantern  was  fixed  in 
his  mouth,  and  the  command  given,  "  Go  fetch  thy  mas- 
ter," he  would  immediately  set  off,  and  proceed  directly  to 
the  town,  which  lay  at  the  distance  of  more  than  a  mile 
from  his  place  of  residence.  When  there,  he  stopped  at 
the  door  of  every  house,  which  he  knew  his  master  was  in 
the  habit  of  fi-equenting,  and  laying  down  his  lantern  would 
growl  and  beat  at  the  door,  making  all  the  noise  in  his 
power,  until  it  was  opened.  If  his  owner  was  not  there, 
he  would  proceed  farther  in  the  same  manner  until  he  found 
him.  If  he  had  accompanied  him  only  once  to  a  house, 
this  was  sufficient  to  induce  him  to  take  that  house  in  his 
round. 

Mr.  Peter  Macarthur  informs  me,  says  Capt.  Brown, 
that  in  the  year  1821,  when  opposite  to  Falmouth,  he  was 


at  breakfast  with  a  gentleman,  when  a  large  Newfoundland 
Dog,  all  dripping  with  water,  entered  the  room,  and  laid 
a  newspaper  on  the  table.  The  gentleman  informed  the 
party,  that  this  Dog  swam  regularly  across  the  ferry  every 
morning,  went  to  the  post  office,  and  obtained  the  papers 
of  the  day. 

We  might  multiply  these  anecdotes,  but  the  space  allot- 
ted to  this  subject  will  only  permit  to  add  the  following: 
we  would,  however,  refer  our  readers  to  Capt.  Brown's 
work,  as  presenting  the  most  astonishing  and  almost  incre- 
dible instances  of  sagacity  in  Dogs  that  have  ever  been 
presented  to  the  public. 

A  Mr.  M'Intyre  in  Edinburgh,  possesses  a  half-bred 
Newfoundland  Dog,  of  which  the  author,  after  relating 
some  extraordinary  anecdotes,  says,  "  A  number  of  gen- 
tlemen, well  acquainted  with  Dandie,  are  daily  in  the  habit 
of  giving  him  a  penny,  which  he  takes  to  a  baker's  shop 
and  purchases  a  roll.  One  of  these  gentlemen  was  accosted 
by  the  Dog  in  expectation  of  his  usual  present.  Mr.  T. 
said,  I  have  not  a  penny  with  me  to-day,  but  I  have  one  at 
home."  On  his  return  to  his  house,  he  heard  a  noise <at  the 
door,  which  was  opened  by  the  servant,  when  in  sprang 
Dandie  to  receive  his  penny.  In  a  frolic,  Mr.  T.  gave  him 
a  bad  one,  which  he,  as  usual,  carried  to  the  baker,  but 
was  refused  his  bread.  He  immediately  returned  to  Mr. 
T.'s,  knocked  at  the  door,  and  when  the  servant  opened  it, 
laid  the  penny  at  his  feet,  and  walked  off,  seemingly  with 
the  greatest  contempt.  Although  Dandie,  in  general,  makes 
an  immediate  purchase  of  bread  with  the  money  he  re- 
ceives, yet  the  following  circumstance  clearly  demonstrates 
that  he  possesses  more  prudent  foresight  than  many  who 
are  reckoned  rational  beings.  One  Sunday,  when  it  was 
very  unlikely  that  he  could  have  received  a  present  of 
money,  Dandie  was  observed  to  bring  home  a  loaf.  Mr. 
M.  being  somewhat  surprised  at  this,  desired  the  servant 
to  search  the  room  to  see  if  any  money  could  be  found. 
While  she  was  engaged  in  this  task,  the  Dog  seemed  quite 
unconcerned  till  she  approached  the  bed,  when  he  ran  to 
her,  and  gently  drew  her  back  from  it.  Mr.  M.  then 
secured  the  Dog,  which  kept  struggling  and  growling, 
while  the  servant  went  under  the  bed,  where  she  found 
7  1-2  pence,  under  a  bit  of  cloth;  after  this  he  was  fre- 
quently observed  to  hide  his  money  in  a  corner  of  a  saw 
pit,  under  the  dust." 

Notwithstanding  the  vigilance  and  watchfulness  of  this 
animal,  he,  like  most  others  of  his  species,  is  terrified  at 
the  sight  of  a  naked  man.  A  tan-yard  in  Kilmarnock,  in 
Scotland,  was  robbed  by  a  thief,  who  took  this  method  of 
overcoming  the  courage  of  a  powerful  Newfoundland  Dog. 
This  terror  of  Dogs  at  the  sight  of  persons  without  clothes, 
arises  from  their  being  unaccustomed  to  such  objects,  and 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS.  55 

it  appears  to  pervade  most  animals.  In  Schipp's  curious  unwelcome  neighbour  to  flight,  this  was  by  turning  his  back 
memoir  of  his  life,  he  mentions  that  a  captain  in  East  to  the  animal  and  looking  at  it  through  his  legs.  He  de- 
India  Company's  service,  was  out  shooting  in  India,  he  clared,  that  the  moment  the  tiger  saw  this  strange  attitude, 
suddenly  came  on  a  large  tiger,  just  as  he  had  discharged  he  took  to  his  heels,  and  was  out  of  sight  in  a  few  mo- 
his  gun,  he  had  no  time  to  load  again,  but  for  a  time  stood  ments. 
his  ground.     At  last  he  thought  of  a  stratagem  to  put  his 

INSCRIPTION 


MONUMENT  OF  A  NEWFOUNDLAND  DOG. 

BY  LORD  BYRON. 

When  some  proud  son  of  man  returns  to  earth, 

Unknown  to  glory,  but  upheld  by  birth. 

The  sculptur'd  art  exhausts  the  pomps  of  woe. 

And  storied  urns  record  who  rest  below; 

When  all  is  done,  upon  the  tomb  is  seen. 

Not  what  he  was,  but  what  he  should  have  been: 

But  the  poor  Dog,  in  life  the  firmest  friend. 

The  first  to  welcome,  foremost  to  defend; 

Whose  honest  heart  is  still  his  master's  own. 

Who  labours,  fights,  lives,  breathes,  for  him  alone, 

Unhonour'd  falls,  unnoticed  all  his  worth, 

Denied  in  Heaven  the  soul  he  held  on  earth: 

While  man,  vain  insect!  hopes  to  be  forgiven. 

And  claims  himself  a  sole  exclusive  Heaven  I 

Oh,  man !  thou  feeble  tenant  of  an  hour, 

Debas'd  by  slavery,  or  corrupt  by  power. 

Who  knows  thee  well,  must  quit  thee  with  disgust, 

Degraded  mass  of  animated  dust! 

Thy  love  is  lust,  thy  friendship  all  a  cheat, 

Thy  smiles  hypocrisy,  thy  words  deceit! 

By  nature  vile,  ennobled  but  by  name. 

Each  kindred  brute  might  bid  thee  blush  for  shame. 

Ye!  who,  perchance,  behold  this  simple  Urn, 

Pass  on — it  honours  none  you  wish  to  mourn: 

To  mark  a  Friend's  remains  these  stones  arise, 

I  never  knew  but  one,  and  here  he  lies. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  fflSTORY 


THE  SLOTH. 

From  Walerton's  Wanderings  in  South  America. 

Let  us  now  turn  our  attention  to  the  Sloth,  whose 
native  liaunts  have  hitherto  been  so  little  known,  and 
probably  little  looked  into.  Those  who  have  written  on 
this  singular  animal  have  remarked  that  he  is  in  a  perpe- 
tual state  of  pain,  that  he  is  proverbially  slow  in  his  move- 
ments, that  he  is  a  prisoner  in  space,  and  that  as  soon  as 
he  has  consumed  all  the  leaves  of  the  tree  upon  which  he 
had  mounted,  he  rolls  himself  up  in  the  form  of  a  ball,  and 
then  falls  to  the  ground.      This  is  not  the  case. 

If  the  naturalists  who  have  written  the  history  of  the 
Sloth  had  gone  into  the  wilds,  in  order  to  examine  his 
haunts  and  economy,  they  would  not  have  drawn  the  fore- 
going conclusions;  they  would  have  learned,  that  though 
all  other  quadrupeds  may  be  described  while  resting  upon 
the  ground,  the  Sloth  is  an  exception  to  this  rule,  and  that 
his  history  must  be  written  while  he  is  in  the  tree. 

This  singular  animal  is  destined  by  nature  to  be  pro- 
duced, to  live  and  to  die  in  trees;  and  to  do  justice  to  him, 
naturalists  must  examine  him  in  this  his  upper  element. 
He  is  a  scarce  and  solitary  animal,  and  being  good  food, 
he  is  never  allowed  to  escape.  He  inhabits  remote  and 
gloomy  forests,  where  snakes  take  up  their  abode,  and 
where  cruelly  stinging  ants  and  scorpions,  and  swamps, 
and  innumerable  thorny  shrubs  and  bushes,  obstruct  the 
steps  of  civilized  man.  Were  you  to  draw  your  own  con- 
clusions from  the  descriptions  which  have  been  given  of 
the  Sloth,  you  would  probably  suspect,  that  no  naturalist 
has  actually  gone  into  the  wilds  with  the  fixed  determina- 
tion to  find  him  out  and  examine  his  haunts,  and  see  whe- 
ther nature  has  committed  any  blunder  in  the  formation  of 
this  extraordinary  creature,  which  appears  to  us  so  forlorn 
and  miserable,  so  ill  put  together,  and  so  totally  unfit  to 
enjoy  the  blessings  which  have  been  so  bountifully  given  to 
the  rest  of  animated  nature;  for,  as  it  has  formerly  been 
remarked,  he  has  no  soles  to  his  feet,  and  he  is  evidently 
ill  at  ease  when  he  tries  to  move  on  the  ground,  and  then 
it  is  that  he  looks  up  in  your  face  with  a  countenance  that 
says,  "  Have  pity  on  me,  for  I  am  in  pain  and  sorrow." 

It  mostly  happens  that  Indians  and  Negroes  are  the  peo- 
ple who  catch  the  Sloth,  and  bring  it  to  the  white  man: 
hence  it  may  be  conjectured  that  the  erroneous  accounts  we 
have  hitherto  had  of  the  Sloth,  have  not  been  penned  down 
with  the  slightest  intention  to  mislead  the  reader,  or  give 
him  an  exaggerated  history,  but  that  these  errors  have  na- 
turally arisen  by  examining  the  Sloth  in  those  places  where 
nature  never  intended  that  he  should  be  exhibited. 

However,  we  are  now  in  his  own  domain.  Man  but 
little  frequents  these  thick  and  noble  forests,  which  extend 


far  and  wide  on  every  side  of  us.  This,  then,  is  the  proper 
place  to  go  in  quest  of  the  Sloth.  We  will  first  take  a  near 
view  of  him.  By  obtaining  a  knowledge  of  his  anatomy, 
we  shall  be  enabled  to  account  for  his  movements  here- 
after, when  we  see  him  in  his  proper  haunts.  His  fore- 
legs, or,  more  correctly  speaking,  his  arms,  are  apparently 
much  too  long,  while  his  hind-legs  are  very  short,  and  look 
as  if  they  could  be  bent  almost  to  the  shape  of  a  corkscrew. 
Both  the  fore  and  hind  legs,  by  their  form,  and  by  the  man- 
ner in  which  they  are  joined  to  the  body,  are  quite  incapa- 
citated from  acting  in  a  perpendicular  direction,  or  in  sup- 
porting it  on  the  earth,  as  the  bodies  of  other  quadrupeds 
are  supported,  by  their  legs.  Hence,  when  you  place  him 
on  the  floor,  his  belly  touches  the  ground.  Now,  granted, 
that  he  supported  himself  on  his  legs  like  other  animals, 
nevertheless  he  would  be  in  pain,  for  he  has  no  soles  to  his 
feet,  and  his  claws  are  very  sharp  and  long,  and  curved;  so 
that,  were  his  body  supported  by  his  feet,  it  would  be  by 
their  extremities,  just  as  your  body  would  be  were  you  to 
throw  yourself  on  all  fours,  and  try  to  support  it  on  the 
ends  of  your  toes  and  fingers — a  trying  position.  Were  the 
floor  of  glass,  or  of  a  polished  surface,  the  Sloth  would  actu- 
ally be  quite  stationary;  but  as  the  ground  is  generally 
rough,  with  little  protuberances  upon  it,  such  as  stones,  or 
roots  of  grass,  &c.,  this  just  suits  the  Sloth,  and  he  moves 
his  fore-legs  in  all  directions,  in  order  to  find  something  to 
lay  hold  of;  and  when  he  has  succeeded,  he  pulls  himself 
forward,  and  is  thus  enabled  to  travel  onwards,  but  at  the 
same  time  in  so  tardy  and  awkward  a  manner,  as  to  acquire 
him  the  name  of  Sloth. 

Indeed,  his  looks  and  his  gestures  evidently  betray  his 
uncomfortable  situation;  and  as  a  sigh  every  now  and  then 
escapes  him,  we  may  be  entitled  to  conclude  that  he  is  actu- 
ally in  pain. 

Some  years  ago  I  kept  a  Sloth  in  my  room  for  several 
months.  I  often  took  him  out  of  the  house,  and  placed 
him  upon  the  ground,  in  order  to  have  an  opportunity  of 
observing  his  motions.  If  the  ground  were  rough,  he 
would  pull  himself  forwards  by  means  of  his  fore-legs,  at  a 
pretty  good  pace;  and  he  invariably  shaped  his  course  to- 
wards 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  favourite  abode  was  the  back  of  a 
chair;  and  after  getting  all  his  legs  in  a  line  upon  the  top- 
most part  of  it,  he  would  hang  there  for  hours  together, 
and  often,  with  a  low  and  inward  cry  would  seem  to  invite 
me  to  take  notice  of  him. 

The  Sloth,  in  its  wild  state,  spends  its  whole  life  in  the 
trees,  and  never  leaves  them  but  through  force,  or  by  acci- 
dent. An  all-ruling  Providence  has  ordered  man  to  tread 
on  the  surface  of  the  earth,  the  eagle  to  soar  in  the  expanse 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


of  the  skies,  and  the  monkey  and  squirrel  to  inhabit  the 
trees:  still  these  may  change  their  relative  situations  with- 
out feeling  much  inconvenience:  but  the  Sloth  is  doomed 
to  spend  his  whole  life  in  the  trees;  and,  what  is  more  ex- 
traordinary, not  upon  the  branches,  like  the  squirrel  and 
the  monkey,  but  under  them.  He  moves  suspended  from 
the  branch,  he  rests  suspended  from  it,  and  he  sleeps  sus- 
pended from  it.  To  enable  him  to  do  this,  he  must  have  a 
very  different  formation  from  that  of  any  other  known 
quadruped. 

Hence,  his  seemingly  bungled  conformation  is  at  once 
accounted  for;  and  in  lieu  of  the  Sloth  leading  a  painful 
life,  and  entailing  a  melancholy  and  miserable  existence  on 
its  progeny,  it  is  but  fair  to  surmise  that  it  just  enjoys  life 
as  much  as  any  other  animal,  and  that  its  extraordinary 
formation  and  singular  habits  are  but  further  proofs  to  en- 
gage us  to  admire  the  wonderful  works  of  Omnipotence. 

It  must  be  observed,  that  the  Sloth  does  not  hang  head- 
downwards  like  the  vampire.  When  asleep,  he  supports 
himself  from  a  branch  parallel  to  the  earth.  He  first  seizes 
the  branch  with  one  arm,  and  then  with  the  other;  and 
after  that,  brings  up  both  his  legs,  one  by  one,  to  the  same 
branch;  so  that  all  four  are  in  a  line:  he  seems  perfectly  at 
rest  in  this  position.  Now,  had  he  a  tail,  he  would  be  at  a 
loss  to  know  what  to  do  with  it  in  this  position:  were  he  to 
draw  it  up  within  his  legs,  it  would  interfere  with  them; 
and  were  he  to  let  it  hang  down,  it  would  become  the  sport 
of  the  winds.  Thus  his  deficiency  of  tail  is  a  benefit  to 
him;  it  is  merely  an  apology  for  a  tail,  scarcely  exceeding 
an  inch  and  a  half  in  length. 

I  observed,  when  he  was  climbing,  he  never  used  his 
arms  both  together,  but  first  one  and  then  the  other,  and 
so  on  alternately.  Tliere  is  a  singularity  in  his  hair,  dif- 
ferent from  that  of  all  other  animals,  and,  I  believe,  hith- 
erto unnoticed  by  naturalists;  his  hair  is  thick  and  coarse 
at  the  extremity,  and  gradually  tapers  to  the  root,  where  it 
becomes  fine  as  the  finest  spider's  web.  His  fur  has  so 
much  the  hue  of  the  moss  which  grows  on  the  branches  of 
the  trees,  that  it  is  very  difficult  to  make  him  out  when  he 
is  at  rest. 

The  male  of  the  three-toed  Sloth  has  a  longitudinal  bar 
of  very  fine  black  hair  on  his  back,  rather  lower  than  the 
shoulder-blades;  on  each  side  of  this  black  bar  there  is  a 
space  of  yellow  hair,  equally  fine;  it  has  the  appearance  of 
being  pressed  into  the  body,  and  looks  exactly  as  if  it  had 
been  singed.  If  we  examine  the  anatomy  of  his  fore-legs, 
we  shall  immediately  perceive  by  their  firm  and  muscular 
texture,  how  very  capable  they  are  of  supporting  the  pen- 
dent weight  of  his  body,  both  in  climbing  and  at  rest;  and, 
instead  of  pronouncing  them  a  bungled  composition,  as  a 
celebrated  naturalist  has  done,  we  shall  consider  them  as 
P 


remarkably  well  calculated  to  perform  their  extraordinary 
functions. 

As  the  Sloth  is  an  inhabitant  of  forests  within  the  tro- 
pics, where  the  trees  touch  each  other  in  the  greatest  pro- 
fusion, there  seems  to  be  no  reason  why  he  should  confine 
himself  to  one  tree  alone  for  food,  and  entirely  strip  it  of 
its  leaves.  During  the  many  years  I  have  ranged  the 
forests,  I  have  never  seen  a  tree  in  such  a  state  of  nudity; 
indeed,  I  would  hazard  a  conjecture,  that,  by  the  time  the 
animal  had  finished  the  last  of  the  old  leaves,  there  would 
be  a  new  crop  on  the  part  of  the  tree  he  had  stripped  first, 
ready  for  him  to  begin  again,  so  quick  is  the  process  of 
vegetation  in  these  countries. 

There  is  a  saying  amongst  the  Indians,  that  when  the 
wind  blows,  the  Sloth  begins  to  travel.  In  calm  weather 
he  remains  tranquil,  probably  not  liking  to  cling  to  the  brit- 
tle extremity  of  the  branches,  lest  they  should  break  with 
him  in  passing  from  one  tree  to  another;  but  as  soon  as  the 
wind  rises,  the  brandies  of  the  neighbouring  trees  become 
interwoven,  and  then  the  Sloth  seizes  hold  of  them,  and 
pursues  his  journey  in  safety.  There  is  seldom  an  entire 
day  of  calm  in  these  forests.  The  trade-wind  generally 
sets  in  about  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  thus  the  Sloth 
may  set  off  after  breakfast,  and  get  a  considerable  way  be- 
fore dinner.  He  travels  at  a  good  round  pace;  and  were 
you  to  see  him  pass  from  tree  to  tree,  as  I  have  done,  you 
would  never  think  of  calling  him  a  Sloth. 

Thus,  it  would  appear  that  the  difTerent  histories  we  have 
of  this  quadruped  are  erroneous  on  two  accounts:  first, 
that  the  writers  of  them,  deterred  by  difficulties  and  local 
annoyances,  have  not  paid  sufficient  attention  to  him  in  his 
native  haunts;  and  secondly,  they  have  described  him  in  a 
situation  in  which  he  was  never  intended  by  nature  to  cut 
a  figure;  I  mean  on  the  ground.  The  Sloth  is  as  much  at 
a  loss  to  proceed  on  his  journey  upon  a  smooth  and  level 
floor  as  a  man  would  be  who  had  to  walk  a  mile  in  stilts 
upon  a  line  of  feather  beds. 

One  day,  as  we  were  crossing  the  Essequibo,  I  saw  a 
large  two-toed  Sloth  on  the  ground  upon  the  bank;  how  he 
had  got  there  nobody  could  tell:  the  Indian  said  he  had 
never  surprised  a  Sloth  in  such  a  situation  before:  he  would 
hardly  have  come  there  to  drink,  for  both  above  and  below 
the  place,  the  branches  of  the  trees  touched  the  water,  and 
afibrded  him  an  easy  and  safe  access  to  it.  Be  this  as  it  may, 
though  the  trees  were  not  above  twenty  yards  from  him, 
he  could  not  make  his  way  through  the  sand  time  enough 
to  escape  before  we  landed.  As  soon  as  we  got  up  to  him 
he  threw  himself  upon  his  back,  and  defended  himself  in 
gallant  style  with  his  fore-legs.  "  Come,  poor  fellow," 
said  I  to  him,  "  if  thou  hast  got  into  a  hobble  to-day,  thou 
shalt  not  suffer  for  it:  I'll  take  no  advantage  of  thee  in  mis- 


fortune;  the  forest  is  large  enough  both  for  thee  and  me  to 
rove  in:  go  thy  ways  up  above,  and  enjoy  thyself  in  these 
endless  wilds;  it  is  more  than  probable  thou  wilt  never  have 
another  interview  with  man.  So  fare  thee  well."  On 
saying  this,  I  took  up  a  long  stick  which  was  lying  there, 
held  it  for  liim  to  hook  on,  and  then  conveyed  him  to 
a  high  and  stately  Mora.  He  ascended  with  wonderful 
rapidity,  and  in  about  a  minute  he  was  almost  at  the  top 
of  the  tree.  He  now  went  off  in  a  side  direction,  and 
caught  hold  of  the  branch  of  a  neighbouring  tree;  he  then 
proceeded  towards  the  heart  of  the  forest.  I  stood  look- 
ing on,  lost  in  amazement  at  his  singular  mode  of  progress. 
I  followed  him  with  my  eye  till  the  intervening  branches 
closed  in  betwixt  us:  and  then  I  lost  sight  for  ever  of  the 
two-toed  Sloth.  I  was  going  to  add,  that  I  never  saw  a 
Sloth  take  to  his  heels  in  such  earnest;  but  the  expression 
will  not  do,  for  the  Sloth  has  no  heels. 

That  which  naturalists  have  advanced  of  his  being  so 
tenacious  of  life,  is  perfectly  true.  I  saw  the  heart  of  one 
beat  for  half  an  hour  after  it  was  taken  out  of  the  body. 
The  wourali  poison  seems  to  be  the  only  thing  that  will 
kill  it  quickly.  On  reference  to  a  former  part  of  these  wan- 
derings, it  will  be  seen  that  a  poisoned  arrow  killed  the 
Sloth  in  about  ten  minutes. 

So  much  for  this  harmless,  unoffending  animal.  He 
holds  a  conspicuous  place  in  the  catalogue  of  the  animals  of 
the  new  world.  Though  naturalists  have  made  no  mention 
of  what  follows,  still  it  is  not  less  true  on  that  account. 
The  Sloth  is  the  only  quadruped  known,  which  spends  its 
whole  life  from  the  branch  of  a  tree,  suspended  by  his  feet. 
I  have  paid  uncommon  attention  to  him  in  his  native 
haunts.  The  monkey  and  squirrel  will  seize  a  branch  with 
their  fore  feet,  and  pull  themselves  up,  and  rest  or  run  upon 
it;  but  the  Sloth,  after  seizing  it,  still  remains  suspended, 
and  suspended  moves  along  under  the  branch,  till  he  can 
lay  hold  of  another.  Whenever  I  have  seen  him  in  his 
native  woods,  whether  at  rest,  or  asleep,  or  on  his  travels, 
I  have  always  observed  that  he  was  suspended  from  the 
branch  of  a  tree.  When  his  form  and  anatomy  are  atten- 
tively considered,  it  will  appear  evident  that  the  Sloth  can- 
not be  at  ease  in  any  situation,  where  his  body  is  higher, 
or  above  his  feet.     We  will  now  take  our  leave  of  him. 


OBSERVATIONS  ON  THE  NATURAL  HISTORY 
OF   THE   CHAMELEON. 

By  ROBERT  SPITTAL,  Esq. 
The  singular  habits  of  the  Chameleon  have  ever  ex- 
cited popular  astonishment,  and  from  their  peculiar  inter- 
est, claimed  in  a  high  degree  the  attention  of  the  natural 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 

historian;  and  though  it  be  now  some  time  since,  through 
his  aid,  many  singular,  but  erroneous  conclusions,  con- 
cerning the  nature  and  habits  of  this  animal,  have  been 
dissipated,  still  we  trust  that  the  few  remarks  we  intend  to 
make,  from  personal  observation — having  had  two  of  these 
animals  in  our  possession  for  several  months,  some  time 
ago — will  not  be  deemed  unworthy  of  attention. 

That  the  particular  species  to  which  our  observations 
apply,  may  be  identified,  we  may  mention  that  it  is  desig- 
nated by  Baron  Cuvier,  in  his  Regne  Animal,  "  Le 
Chameleon  ordinaire."  It  is  a  native  of  Europe,  Asia, 
and  Africa.  Those  in  our  possession  were  brought  from 
the  south  of  Spain,  and  measured  about  five  inches  in  length, 
exclusive  of  the  tail.  On  being  touched,  they  conveyed  an 
impression  of  cold  to  the  hand,  and,  like  other  cold-blooded 
animals,  were  very  sluggish  in  their  motions;  and,  indeed, 
we  have  frequently  observed  them  remain  in  the  same 
posture,  for  liours  together,  firmly  embracing  the  twig  on 
which  they  stood,  with  their  toes,  having  at  the  same  time, 
the  tail  generally  twisted  around  the  same,  or  some  adja- 
cent twig. 

When  excited  to  motion,  by  the  appearance  of  a  fly,  not 
within  the  range  of  their  power,  or  otherwise,  they  pro- 
ceeded very  slowly  from  branch  to  branch,  moving  first 
one  extremity,  then  another,  at  the  same  time  securing 
themselves  by  their  tails ;  and  we  have  often  observed 
them  trust  entirely  to  this  organ,  when  descending  from 
twig  to  twig,  and  sometimes  been  impressed  with  the  simi- 
larity between  their  motions  and  those  of  some  of  the 
monkey  tribes,  having  preliensile  tails. 

Sluggish  though  the  Chameleon  generally  be,  there  are 
particular  organs  which  form  eminent  exceptions  to  this 
general  remark,  and  this  is  particularly  the  case  with  the 
eyes.  These  organs,  except  when  the  animals  were  asleep, 
were  used  with  great  alacrity:  and  it  is  no  exaggeration  to 
say,  that  they  were  continually  rolling  in  all  directions, 
with  the  singular  peculiarity  of  each  eye  having  an  inde- 
pendent motion,  as  mentioned  by  Cuvier  and  others.  This 
fact  we  have  frequently  observed ;  and  it  was  not  an  un- 
common thing  to  see  one  eye  directed  upwards,  and  the 
other  downwards;  or  one  backwards,  and  the  other  in  an 
opposite  direction,  at  the  same  time.  Thus,  in  a  beautiful 
manner,  one  function  is  made  to  compensate  for  the  want 
of  another;  for,  though  naturally  sluggish  in  the  motion  of 
its  body  generally,  it  enjoys  a  more  extensive  sphere  of 
vision  than  any  other  animal  in  similar  circumstances;  and 
is  thus  enabled  to  discover  its  prey  over  a  much  larger 
surface,  than,  did  it  not  possess  the  extensive  motion  of  its 
eyes  mentioned,  it  otherwise  could. 

They  lived  entirely  upon  insects,  and  these  were  tempted 
to  approach  by  besmearing  the  twigs  in  the  cage  with  honey. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


59 


On  observing  one — which  was  easily  known  by  their  keep- 
ing one  or  both  eyes  stedfastly  fixed  on  it  for  a  short  time — 
the  method  of  attack  pursued  was  to  the  following  effect. 
They  slowly  moved  towards  their  prej^,  as  if  afraid  to  dis- 
turb it;  at  the  same  time  keeping  their  eyes  firmly  fixed 
upon  the  insect  until  within  a  few  inches  of  it,  then  on  a 
sudden  darting  forth  the  tongue,  and  as  suddenly  withdraw- 
ing it,  they  secured  their  prey,  which  very  voracious  mas- 
tication and  deglutition  soon  disposed  of. 

The  greatest  distance  to  which  we  have  observed  the 
tongue  protuded,  was  about  five  inches,  generally  less, 
never  more.  This  organ,  protruded  by  strong  muscular 
power,  is,  we  believe,  chiefly  returned  to  the  mouth  by  an 
apparatus  attached  to  its  base,  which  acts  by  its  resiliency, 
in  a  somewhat  similar  way  to  the  elasticity  of  a  silk  purse, 
when  drawn  out,  and  suddenly  let  go.  The  better  to  ena- 
ble them  to  seize  their  prey,  the  extremity  of  the  tongue 
folds  up  to  a  slight  extent,  somewhat  like  the  extremity  of 
the  proboscis  of  an  elephant;  and  moreover  the  organ  is 
coated  with  an  adhesive  matter. 

According  to  the  quantity  of  air  in  the  lungs,  the  lateral 
dimensions  of  the  Chameleon  are  more  or  less  extended. 
We  have  observed  them  more  than  an  inch  and  a  half  in 
breadth  across  the  chest;  sometimes,  however,  compressed 
to  less  than  half  an  inch;  their  usual  bulk  was  the  medium 
between  these. 

That  the  change  of  colour  has  an  intimate  relation  to  the 
bulk  of  the  animal,  or,  in  other  words,  to  the  quantity  of 
air  in  the  lungs,  there  is  every  evidence;  and  we  shall 
now  make  a  few  remarks  on  that  singular  phenomenon, 
stating  the  various  changes  of  colour  observed,  and  at  the 
same  time  the  circumstances  in  which  the  animals  were 
placed  at  the  moment.  The  usual  colour  observed  during 
the  day,  was  a  mixture  of  various  shades  of  green,  in  irreg- 
ular spots;  towards  the  head,  these,  however,  sometimes 
assumed  the  form  of  stripes:  sometimes  these  colours  were 
slightly  mixed  with  yellowish  patches,  and  at  other  times 
with  dark  purple  spots. 

Such  were  their  usual  colours  for  the  most  part  of  the 
day,  while  moving  about,  undisturbed  in  their  cage,  or 
amongst  the  twigs  of  a  plant,  in  the  search  of  food.  When 
of  the  greenish  hue  mentioned,  it  was  sometimes  difficult  to 
discover  them  amongst  the  leaves;  and  indeed  it  seems 
probable  that  this  may  be  a  provision  of  nature,  to  enable 
the  Chameleon  to  procure  its  food,  which  consists  chiefly 
of  insects;  and  these,  had  the  animal  been  of  a  colour  more 
distinct  from  that  of  its  natural  habitation,  trees,  might 
have  been  deterred  from  approaching  within  a  tangible  dis- 
tance. 

At  night,  when  asleep,  the  colour  was  of  a  yellow  hue. 
Being  desirous  to  ascertain  the  effect  of  light  on  them, 


while  of  that  colour,  we  placed,  for  this  purpose,  a  lighted 
candle,  about  three  or  four  inches  from  the  side  of  one  of 
these  animals,  and  allowed  it  to  remain  for  a  few  minutes, 
the  effect  of  wiiich  was,  that  light  brown  spots  began  to 
appear,  at  irregular  distances,  on  the  side  next  the  light. 
These  spots  gradually  deepened  in  colour,  until  they  attain- 
ed that  of  a  dark  brown.  On  the  removal  of  the  light  to  a 
distance,  the  spots  as  gradually  disappeared,  and  the  animal 
assumed  its  usual  yellowish  hue. 

A  similar  effect  took  place  on  imitating  a  shower  of  rain, 
by  sprinkling  water  over  the  animals,  but  in  a  more  rapid 
manner  than  on  the  application  of  the  light. 

These  two  experiments  we  repeated  several  times,  with 
similar  results;  and  we  believe  the  appearance  of  these  spots 
to  be  owing  to  the  irritation  produced,  in  the  first  instance, 
by  the  heat  and  light;  in  the  second,  by  the  mechanical 
irritation  of  the  water.  The  animals  never  awoke  during 
these  experiments,  except  when  the  artificial  rain  was  too 
heavy,  or  continued  for  a  long  time. 

Shortly  after  these  animals  came  into  our  possession,  one 
of  them  escaped  from  the  greenhouse  in  which  they  resided 
for  a  time;  and  it  was  not  until  after  a  very  diligent  search, 
that  we  discovered  it  amongst  some  long  grass,  of  a  colour 
which  surprised  us  much.  It  appeared  at  first  sight  to  be 
speckled  black  and  white;  on  closer  examination,  however, 
the  dark  colour  was  purple,  the  light  apparently  a  pale  yel- 
low.    These  colours  were  in  large  irregular  patches. 

While  of  tliis  hue,  its  dimensions  were  unusually  small, 
its  sides  were  much  compressed,  and  we  may  state  gene- 
rally, that  when  of  a  dark  colour,  they  were  usually  in  a 
compressed  state;  for  though  in  the  case  just  mentioned 
there  was  an  approach  to  a  white  at  some  places,  still  the 
dark  colour  was  most  profuse. 

On  one  occasion,  we  remarked  the  effects  of  strong  pas- 
sion on  these  animals.  Wishing  to  take  one  of  them  out  of 
the  cage  in  which  they  were  usually  confined,  and  approach- 
ing the  hand  towards  it  for  that  purpose,  the  animal 
retreated  for  a  little  at  first,  then  on  a  sudden  turned 
round  and  seized  one  of  our  fingers,  without  further  mis- 
chief, however,  than  slightly  raising  the  cuticle.  At  this 
moment  the  colour  changed  from  the  usual  greenish  mix- 
ture to  that  of  a  yellowish  grey,  spotted  over,  at  the 
same  time,  with  numerous  red  points,  about  the  size  of  the 
head  of  a  pin,  while  the  animal  became  more  bulky  than 
we  had  ever  seen  it. 

Some  days  before  death,  which  took  place,  partly,  in 
consequence  of  the  inclemency  of  the  weather,  but  particu- 
larly, we  believe,  in  consequence  of  the  want  of  food  at  the 
time,  the  flies  having  nearly  all  disappeared,  worms  and 
other  small  animals  were  rejected,  they  gradually  be- 
came weaker  and  weaker,  left  the  twigs,  and  came  to  the 


60 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  fflSTORY 


floor  of  the  cage.  While  in  this  weak  state,  their  colour 
differed  from  any  we  ever  observed  them  to  assume  while 
in  health.  They  became  of  the  following  hues,  viz.  yel- 
low and  purple.  These  colours  were  in  large  irregular 
patches,  and  seemed  gradually  to  brighten  as  the  animals 
became  weaker,  until  on  death  they  were  brightest. 

With  regard  to  the  transparent  property  of  the  body  of 
the  Chameleon,  we  have  only  to  say,  that  on  one  occasion, 
we  are  tolerably  sure  that  we  observed  the  shadow  of  the 
wires  of  the  cage,  during  the  bright  sunshine,  through  the 
body  of  one  of  them,  while  in  a  compressed  state. 

These  remarks,  we  think,  seem  to  show  that  the  exist- 
ing opinions,  which  attribute  the  change  of  colour  to  the 
action  of  the  lungs,  as  the  chief  cause,  is  correct;  not  we 
believe  entirely,  however,  owing  to  the  change  of  colour 
of  the  blood,  according  to  the  respiration,  transmitted  by 
the  skin;  but  conjointly,  with  its  effects  on  the  integu- 
ments, rendering  them  more  or  less  tense  or  flaccid;  and 
thus  enabling  the  surface  to  reflect  different  ra3'S  of  light  at 
different  times,  according  to   the  state  of  the  integuments. 

It  is  curious  to  observe  the  opinions  of  naturalists  con- 
cerning the  change  of  colour  in  the  Chameleon,  and  we 
have  here  subjoined  those  of  the  authors  we  have  consulted 
on  this  point,  in  a  tabular  form. 


AUTHORS. 


Opinions  concerning  the  causes  of  Change  of  Colour. 


The  change  of  colour  takes  place  when  the  animal  becomes  infla- 
ted. 
Takes  the  colour  of  bodies  which   it  approaehes»  except  i-ed  and 

From  affections  of  the  mind  of  animal. 
Reflection. 

disposition  of  parts  that  compose  theskin  giving  a  difFerentmo- 

ification  to  rays  of  light. 


skin  reflecting  colour  of  bodies  a 


1  violet ;   change  in  conse 
1  driven  into  skin  at  difien 


itensity  of  the 
e  of  different 


Chang 


hanges  on  exposure  to  sun  ;  colour  seems  to  depend  on  s 
I    health,  temperature,  and  other  unknown  causes. 
iLiings  render  skin   more  or  less  transparent,  and  also  chai 
I    colour  of  the  blood  according  as  inflated. 
Perhaps  from  being  seized  with  a  kind  of  jaundice. 
Not  from  colour  of  objects  it  approaches. 
.From  being  very  subject  to  jaundice. 
|Frora  exposure  to  sun,  changes  colour. 
From  objects  on  which  they  happen  to  be  placed. 
According  to  sutes  of  animal. 
From  exposure  to  sun. 
Fear,  anger,  and  heat. 
Blood  violet ;   vessels  and  skin  yellow  ;   hence  upon  quan 

blood  driven  to  skin  depends  colour. 
According  as  blood  is  sent  more  or  less  rapidly  in  contact  w 

fresh  air  iuspii.ed. 
According  to  their  wants  and  passions,  lungs  render  body  n 

less  transparent,  and  force  the  blood  more  or  less  to  fl 

wards  the  skin  ;   that  fluid  coloured  more  or  less  brightly  B 

;.io.  fn  r...an,w.r  of  air  uken  into  lungs. 


From  quantity  of  oxygen  in  lungs. 


However,  with  the  exception  of  a  few,  including  Dr.  Rus- 
sell and  Pliny,  all  seem  to  agree,  that  the  colour  of  the 
Chameleon  does  not  depend  on  that  of  the  body  on  which 
it  happens  to  be  placed. 

Dr.  Russell  drew  his  conclusions  from  observing,  that 
sometimes,  while  on  a  tree,  the  colour  of  the  animal  ap- 
proached to  that  of  the  bark;  and  again,  while  on  the 
grass,  after  some  time  it  became  of  a  green  hue.  Now, 
these  two  colours  are  the  most  usual,  as  far  as  our  observa- 
tion goes,  which  the  Chameleon  assumes,  however  situated. 
Coincidences  such  as  these  however,  we  admit,  are  cer- 
tainly liable  to  mislead,  especially  those,  setting  about  an 
inquiry  of  this  nature,  under  the  influence  of  a  precon- 
ceived theory.  But  indeed,  Dr.  Russell  at  the  same  time 
admits,  that  the  Chameleon  does  not  always  assume  the 
colour  of  the  ground  on  which  it  is  placed,  and  states,  that, 
when  put  into  a  box  lined  with  black,  it  sometimes  became 
lighter  in  colour,  and  vice  versa  when  put  into  a  white  one. 
Another  objection  to  this  theory  is,  that  the  Chameleon  re- 
tains its  hue  for  some  time  after  removal  from  the  spot 
where  it  had  become  of  any  particular  colour,  which  could 
not  be  the  case  did  it  depend  upon  the  colour  of  surround- 
ing objects.  This  fact  we  have  often  noticed,  and  with  the 
exception  of  the  somewhat  ridiculous  opinions  of  Linnaeus, 
Hasselquist,  and  Kircher,  most  of  the  authors  we  have 
quoted,  either  distinctly  state,  or  from  their  observations  on 
this  subject  entitle  us  to  infer,  that  the  lungs  are  the  principal 
agents  in  the  production  of  the  change  of  colour,  their  ac- 
tion being  apparently  modified  by  the  temperature  of  the 
air — light — passions  or  affections  of  the  mind — state  of 
health — various  wants — and  perhaps  other  unknown  causes. 
Edin.  Phil.  Jour. 


These  quotations  show  that  the  opinions  of  naturalists  on 
this    subject   are   very   various,    and   even   contradictory. 


THE  BLACK  SWAN. 
When  the  classical  writers  of  antiquity  spoke  of  the 
Black  Swan  as  a  proverbial  rarity,  so  improbable  as  almost 
to  be  deemed  impossible,  little  did  they  imagine  that  in 
these  latter  da}'S  a  region  would  be  discovered,  nearly  equal 
in  extent  to  the  Roman  empire  even  at  the  proudest  period 
of  its  greatness,  in  which  their  "  rara  avis"  would  be  found 
in  as  great  abundance  as  the  common  wild  Swan  upon  the 
lakes  of  Europe.  Such,  however,  has  been  one  of  the 
least  singular  among  the  many  strange  and  unexpected  re- 
sults of  the  discovery  of  the  great  southern  continent  of 
New  Holland. 

The  Black  Swans  are  found  as  well  in  Van  Diemen's 
Land  as  in  New  South  Whales  and  on  the  western  coast  of 
New  Holland.  They  are  generally  seen  in  flocks  of  eight 
or  nine  together,  floating  on  a  lake;  and  when  disturbed, 
flying  off  like  wild  geese  in  a  direct  line  one  after  the  other. 
They  are  said  to  be  extremely  shy,  so  as  to  render  it  difiicult 
to  approach  within  gunshot  of  them. — Menag.  Zool.  Soc. 


'^ 


vn: 


^:^ 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


ROUGH  BILLED  PELICAN. 
PELECJiNVS  ERYTHRORYNCHOS. 

[Plate  VL] 

P.  erythrorynchos.  Gmel.  i.  571.  No.  15. — P.  trachy- 
rynchos.  Latham,  index,  884.  Phil.  Trans,  vol.  54, 
419. — Rough  billed  Pelican.  Lath.  Synops.  6.  p.  586. 
Phu-adelphia  Museum. 

The  Pelicans  belong  to  the  family  of  Totipalmes, 
Cuv.  which  are  distinguished  by  having  their  hind  toe 
united  to  the  others  by  a  continuous  membrane,  notwith- 
standing which  organization,  they  are  almost  the  only  web 
footed  birds  which  perch  on  trees.  They  almost  all  fly 
well,  and  have  short  legs. 

This  genus,  as  instituted  by  Linnseus,  comprehended  all 
of  the  palmated  tribe,  the  base  of  whose  bills  are  in  a  greater 
or  less  degree  destitute  of  feathers,  and  having  the  nostrils 
placed  in  a  groove  running  along  the  sides  of  the  upper 
mandible,  with  their  aperture  so  small  as  scarcely  to  be 
distinguished;  and  also,  having  a  more  or  less  dilated  gul- 
let, and  a  very  small  tongue.  Under  this  definition  were  in- 
cluded the  Pelicans  proper,  the  cormorants,  gannets,  &c. 
The  observations  of  more  recent  naturalists,  however,  have 
shown  the  necessity  of  separating  these  birds  into  several 
distinct  genera,  restricting  that  of  Pelecanus  to  such  as 
are  possessed  of  the  following  characteristics:  ''Bill  very 
long,  broad,  stout,  straight,  much  depressed;  upper  man- 
dible convex  at  base,  then  plane,  seamed  on  each  side, 
ridge  distinct,  ending  in  a  compressed,  robust,  and  strongly 
hooked  nail;  lower  broader,  formed  of  two  flexible  cartila- 
ginous branches  united  at  tip,  supporting  a  naked  mem- 
brane, capable  of  forming  by  distention  a  pouch  of  great 
size,  extending  beyond  the  throat;  edges  of  the  upper  man- 
dible, plane  internally,  separated  from  the  palate  by  two 
longitudinal,  approximated,  sharp  processes;  palate  cari- 
nated,  lower  edges  sharp;  nostrils  in  the  furrow,  basal, 
linear,  longitudinal,  hardly  distinguishable;  tongue  cartila- 
ginous, very  small,  obtuse  and  arcuated  at  tip.  Head  mo- 
derate, face  and  cheeks  naked ;  eyes  rather  large  ;  neck 
long,  stoutisli;  body  massive.  Feet  nearly  central,  short, 
robust;  tibia  naked  below;  tarsi  shorter  than  the  second 
toe,  stout,  naked;  middle  toe  longest,  one  third  longer  than 
the  outer;  hind  toe  shortest,  hardly  half  as  long  as  the 
middle  one;  connecting  membrane  broad,  full,  entire; 
nails  falculate;  the  middle  one  with  its  edges  entire,  or 
pectinated.  Wings  moderate,  ample ;  second  primary 
longest ;  secondaries  reaching  to  the  primaries.  Tail 
rounded  of  twenty  feathers."* 

The  female  is  very  similar  in  appearance  to  the   male, 

*  C.  L.  Bonaparte.  Synop.  Birds  of  Ihe  U.  S. 

Q 


but  the  young  differs  greatly  for  a  long  time.     They  moult 
annually,  and  have  a  short,  thick,  and  close  plumage. 

The  most  remarkable  peculiarity  of  these  birds,  is  the 
bag  or  pouch  attached  to  the  lower  mandible.  This  bag, 
when  empty,  the  bird  has  the  power  of  contracting  into  a 
very  small  compass,  and  of  wrinkling  it  up  until  it  scarcely 
hangs  below  the  bill,  though  when  fully  extended,  it  is  of 
an  enormous  size;  it  may  be  considered  as  its  crop,  as  it 
serves  all  the  purposes  of  that  receptacle,  and  from  being 
placed  at  the  commencement,  instead  of  the  termination  of 
the  gullet,  it  enables  them  to  retain  food  in  it  for  a  considera- 
able  time,  without  becoming  altered.  When  in  pursuit  of 
prey,  the  Pelican  stows  its  spoils  in  this  pouch,  and  when 
it  is  full,  retires  to  the  shore  to  devour  the  fruits  of  its  in- 
dustry at  leisure.  In  this  manner  also,  the  female  carries 
food  for  her  young,  and  when  disgorging  it,  presses  the 
bottom  of  the  sac  upon  her  breast,  and  thus  discharges  its 
contents.  This  mode  of  procedure  has,  in  all  probability, 
given  rise  to  the  poetic  fable  of  her  opening  her  breast,  and 
feeding  her  young  on  her  own  blood. 

And  like  the  kind  life  rendering  Pelican, 
Refresh  them  with  my  blood* 

Except  this  opinion  of  the  ancients  was  founded  on  the 
circumstance  we  have  alluded  to,  we  cannot  comprehend 
how  they  could  have  attributed  to  this  stupid  bird,  the  admi- 
rable qualities  and  maternal  affections  for  which  it  was  cele- 
brated among  them.  When  the  membrane  of  which  this 
pouch  is  composed  is  carefully  prepared,  it  becomes  as  soft 
as  silk,  and  is  sometimes  embroidered  for  work  bags  or 
purses.  It  is  also  used  for  tobacco  pouches  and  shot  bags, 
and  among  the  negroes  in  the  West  Indies,  it  is  thought 
that  slippers  formed  from  it  are  an  infallible  remedy  against 
the  gout;  as  well  as  convulsions  in  children. 

These  birds  are  said  to  be  torpid  and  inactive  to  the  last 
degree,  so  that  nothing  can  exceed  their  indolence  but  their 
gluttony,  and  the  powerful  stimulus  of  hunger  is  necessary 
to  excite  them  to  exertion.  They  however,  fly  well,  and 
can  remain  on  the  wing  for  a  long  time,  hovering  over  the 
surface  of  the  sea  at  a  considerable  height,  until  they  per- 
ceive a  fish  near  the  surface,  when  they  dart  down  with 
great  swiftness,  and  seldom  fail  in  seizing  it.  They  all 
swim  with  equal  celerity,  and  dive  with  adroitness.  It  is 
also  said  by  some  authors,!  that  these  birds  unite  in  flocks 
for  the  purpose  of  taking  their  prey,  forming  a  circle, 
and  swimming  towards  its  centre.  W^hen  they  have  con- 
tracted the  space  sufficiently,  at  a  certain  signal  they  all 
strike  the  water  with  their  wings,  thus  frightening  the  fish 
to  such  a  degree,  that  they  fall  an  easy  prey  to  their  insa- 
tiable pursuers.     These  manceuvres  take  place  during  the 

*  Hamlet.  Act4.  Sc.5.  t  Descounilz  Voyag-es,  d'unnaluralisle.t.ii.  p.i4l. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


morning  and  evening,  as  at  these  times  the  fish  approach 
the  surface  of  the  water. 

At  night,  when  their  labours  are  over,  and  they  have  be- 
come glutted  with  food,  they  retire  some  distance  from  the 
shore,  and  remain  perched  on  trees  till  the  next  day  calls 
for  a  renewal  of  their  exertions.  Here  also  they  repose 
during  most  part  of  the  day,  sitting  in  a  solemn  and  awk- 
ward posture,  looking  as  if  they  were  half  asleep.  Their 
attitude  is  with  the  head  resting  upon  the  pouch,  and  this 
closely  applied  to  the  breast.  Thus  they  spend  their  life 
between  sleeping  and  eating,  never  breaking  their  repose 
till  the  calls  of  hunger  render  it  indispensably  necessary  to 
fill  their  magazine  for  a  fresh  meal.  Although  their  usual 
and  favourite  food  is  fish,  when  this  fails  them,  they  satisfy 
their  appetite  with  reptiles  and  small  quadrupeds. 

The  female  lays  from  two  to  four  eggs;  some  species 
breeding  on  rocks  near  the  water,  making  large  deep  nests, 
lined  with  soft  weeds,  others  constructing  them  in  man- 
grove and  other  trees  overhanging  the  water.  They  are 
affectionate  parents,  although,  from  their  natural  timidity, 
they  make  but  little  resistance  when  robbed  of  their  off- 
spring. The  young,  when  excluded  from  the  shell,  are  fed 
with  fish  that  have  been  macerated  for  some  time  in  the 
pouch  of  the  mother. 

These  birds  are  easily  tamed,  but  they  are  useless  and 
disagreeable  domestics,  as  their  insatiable  gluttony  renders 
it  ditBcult  to  supply  them  with  a  sufficiency  of  food,  and 
their  flesh  is  so  unsavoury  and  rank,  as  never  to  be  eaten 
except  from  dire  necessity;  it  is  probable,  however,  that 
they  might  be  trained  for  the  purposes  of  fishing,  in  the 
same  manner  as  the  cormorant;  indeed,  one  writer  assures 
us  that  he  saw  a  Pelican  in  South  America,  that  was  under 
such  command,  as  to  go  off  in  the  morning  and  return  be- 
fore night,  with  its  pouch  distended  with  prey,  part  of 
which  it  was  made  to  disgorge,  and  the  remainder  it  was 
permitted  to  retain  as  a  reward.  Clavigero,  in  his  History 
of  Mexico,  also  states,  that  the  Indians,  in  order  to  procure 
a  supply  of  fish  without  any  trouble,  break  the  wings  of  a 
live  Pelican,  and  after  tying  the  bird  to  a  tree,  conceal 
themselves  near  the  place;  the  screams  of  the  suffering  bird 
attract  other  Pelicans  to  the  place,  who,  he  says,  throw  up 
a  portion  of  the  provisions  from  their  pouch  for  their  im- 
prisoned companion;  as  soon  as  the  savages  perceive  this 
to  be  done,  they  rush  to  the  spot,  and  after  leaving  a  little 
for  the  bird,  carry  off  the  remainder. 

According  to  Faber,  this  bird  is  not  destitute  of  other 
qualifications.  One  was  kept  in  the  collection  of  the  Duke 
of  Bavaria  above  forty  years,  which  seemed  to  be  possessed 
of  extraordinary  sagacity.  It  was  very  fond  of  being  in 
the  company  of  mankind,  and  appeared  extravagantly  at- 
tached to  musical  sounds;  if  any  one  played  on  an  instru- 


ment, it  would  stand  perfectly  still,  turn  its  ear  towards  the 
sounds,  and  with  its  head  stretched  out  seem  to  experience 
great  pleasure. 

The  Pelican  attains  great  longevity:  Gesner  relates  that 
the  emperor  Maximilian  had  a  tame  one  that  lived  above 
eighty  years,  and  always  attended  his  army  on  their  march. 
Aldrovandus  also  mentions  one  of  these  birds,  which  was 
kept  at  Mechlin,  and  was  supposed  to  be  fifty  years  old. 

Pelicans  are  found  in  the  warm  and  temperate  regions 
of  the  globe,  and  are  generally  to  be  seen  in  large  flocks ; 
in  some  places  they  are  exceedingly  numerous ;  thus, 
travellers  assert  that  the  lakes  of  India  and  Egj^pt,  and 
the  rivers  Nile  and  Stryman,  when  viewed  from  the 
mountains,  appear  white  with  the  vast  flocks  of  these  birds 
that  continually  cover  their  surface. 

These  birds  were  early  observed  by  mankind,  for  we 
find  them  classed  among  those  which  were  forbidden  as 
food  to  the  Israelites  as  unclean,  and  are  also  alluded  to  in 
the  Psalms.  It  is  difficult  to  determine  whether  the  bird 
spoken  of  by  Aristotle,  under  the  name  of  llfXixai,^  is 
really  the  Pelican  of  modern  writers  or  not,  though  this 
seems  to  be  the  opinion  of  the  French  Academy.  He  says, 
that  this  bird  frequents  the  banks  of  rivers,  and  swallows 
large  quantities  of  shell  fish,  which,  after  having  macerated 
in  a  pouch  or  crop  which  precedes  its  stomach,  disgorges 
them  to  feed  on  the  flesh,  the  heat  having  forced  them  to 
open.  Cicero,  in  his  treatise  on  the  nature  of  the  gods,  re- 
peats this  observation  of  tlie  Greek  naturalist,  but  calls  the 
bird  Platalea,  whilst  Pliny  gives  it  the  name  of  Platea. 
Buffon,  in  admitting  that  Aristotle  had  reference  to  the 
Pelican,  also  observes,  that  his  description  of  its  habits  does 
not  agree  with  those  of  our  bird,  being  rather  applicable  to 
the  spoonbill.  Pliny,  however,  does  not  confound  them, 
for,  after  describing  the  Platea,  he  gives  a  very  good  ac- 
count of  the  Pelican  under  the  name  of  Onoc?'atalus,f  at 
the  same  time,  it  should  be  noticed  that  both  Cicero  and 
Pliny,  in  speaking  of  the  Platea,  differ  from  Aristotle,  in 
saying  that  the  shell  fish  are  received  into  the  stomach  of 
the  bird,  whilst  the  latter,  as  we  have  already  stated,  ob- 
serves that  they  are  macerated  in  a  pouch  which  precedes 
the  true  stomach. 

There  is  also  considerable  difficulty  in  determining  the 
species  of  this  genus,  some  authors  multiplying  them  to  a 
great  extent,  whilst  others  restrict  them  to  two  or  three. 
Thus  Cuvier  says  there  is  no  difference  between  the  com- 
mon Pelican,  (P.  onocratalus,)  and  the  P.  roseus,  of 
which  Sonnerat  states,  that  the  manillensis  is  the  young. 
This  has  arisen  in  a  great  measure  from  the  variations  pro- 
duced by  age  not  having  been  sufficiently  observed.  It 
may  also  arise  from  individuals  of  the  same  species,  living 

*  Book  ix.  chap.  10.  +  Book  x.  chap.  C6. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


in  different  countries,  and  hence  not  subject  to  the  same 
physical  circumstances.  This,  it  is  well  known,  will  not 
only  induce  variations  in  colour,  and  size,  but  even  in  the 
form  and  development  of  certain  parts.  At  the  same  time 
that  we  allow  this,  we  agi-ee  with  Mr.  Swainson,  that  too 
much  latitude  has  been  given  to  the  meaning  of  the  word 
variety,  so  that  in  its  general  acceptation,  its  definition  be- 
comes impossible;  its  true  meaning  is,  an  animal  or  other 
production  of  nature,  possessing  one  or  more  characters 
which  are  changeable  and  uncertain,  and  which,  conse- 
quentlj-,  will  not  serve  as  indications  by  which  it  may  in- 
fallibljr  be  distinguished  from  all  others. 

For  the  following  account  of  the  Rough  billed  Pelican, 
we  are  indebted  to  Mr.  T.  Peale,  whose  well  earned  repu- 
tation in  natural  history,  requires  no  eulogy  from  us. 

This  bird  is  entirely  white,  with  the  exception  of  the 
primaries  and  nine  first  secondaries,  which  are  black,  as  are 
likewise  the  next  six,  except  on  their  external  edge ;  crest, 
plumes  of  the  breast  and  lesser  wing  coverts,  with  a  faint 
tinge  of  yellow.  Plumes  of  the  crest  silky,  and  about  four 
inches  in  length;  those  of  the  neck  very  soft  and  pointed. 
Tertials,  coverts,  and  feathers  of  the  breast  and  belly,  long 
and  silk}-.  Bill  flesh  coloured;  pouch,  orbits,  legs  and  feet, 
orange  j-ellow;  a  blackish  spot  on  the  pouch  near  the  extre- 
mity of  the  bill,  which  assumes  the  appearance  of  inter- 
rupted lines  when  this  part  is  distended.  Tail  rounded, 
consisting  of  twenty-two  feathers,  (in  a  specimen  from  the 
Missouri,  there  were  twenty-four).  All  the  specimens  we 
have  seen  were  destitute  of  the  black  spot  on  the  bill,  men- 
tioned by  Latham.  Spurious  wings,  black;  first  and  fifth 
primaries  equal,  three  intermediate  feathers  also  equal,  but 
longer  than  the  first  and  fifth;  shafts  white,  those  of  the 
secondaries  black.  Iris,  dark  brown.  The  dimensions  of 
a  fine  specimen  were,  length,  five  feet  two  and  a  half  inches; 
extent,  seven  feet  nine  and  three  quarter  inches;  bill,  fif- 
teen and  a  quarter  inches;  tarsus,  four  and  a  quarter;  height 
of  rugosity  on  bill,  two  inches;  weight,  thirty  pounds. 

To  such  of  our  readers  as  have  visited  the  estuaries  of 
the  Florida  coast,  the  demure  and  awkward  attitude  of  this 
bird  must  be  perfectly  familiar.  In  that  portion  of  our 
country,  this  species  occurs  in  large  flocks,  but  they  are 
also  often  to  be  seen  along  the  shores  of  the  Mississippi  and 
Missouri,  imparting  a  peculiar  character  to  the  otherwise 
solitary  scene,  their  solemn  and  quiet  demeanor  being  in 
strict  unison  with  the  stillness  of  the  uninhabited  plains 
which  surround  them.  They  do  not,  however,  remain 
throughout  the  whole  year  on  our  western  waters,  migra- 
ting to  the  south  during  the  autumn  months,  and  returning 
early  in  the  spring.  Specimens  have  been  killed  at  Council 
Bluffs  as  early  as  the  8th  of  April,  some  of  which  were  of 
great  size,  the  pouch  of  one  obtained  by  Mr.  Peale,  being 


capable  of  containing  upwards  of  four  gallons  of  water, 
although  when  empty,  such  was  its  elasticity,  that  it  hung 
but  a  few  inches  below  the  bill. 

The  individual  from  which  our  drawing  was  made,  was 
shot,  with  its  companion,  a  few  miles  below  Philadelphia, 
and  presented  to  the  Museum  by  Mr.  P.  Brandt.  These 
birds  very  seldom  occur  so  far  north  on  the  Atlantic  coast, 
the  only  other  instance  with  which  we  are  acquainted,  were 
a  pair  which  were  killed  in  New  York  harbour  a  few  years 
since.  Latham,  however,  mentions  that  they  are  found  in 
Hudson's  bay.  On  the  western  rivers  they  may  be  seen  as 
high  as  the  42d  degi-ee. 

They  build  in  societies,  and  seldom  are  found  except  in 
flocks.  On  the  mangrove  islands  in  Musquito  river,  East 
Florida,  both  the  present  species  and  the  brown  (P. /iisciis.) 
breed  in  vast  numbers,  but  alwaj's  select  separate  islands. 
Mr.  Peale  visited  some  of  these  spots  during  the  winter,  and 
although  not  the  breeding  season,  found  that  they  still  col- 
lected in  great  numbers  every  night,  for  the  purpose  of 
roosting,  apparently  arriving  from  great  distances  and 
evincing  strong  attachment  to  the  place  of  their  birth.  The 
mangroves  were  covered  with  the  remains  of  old  nests; 
these  were  principally  composed  of  sticks,  and  several 
nests  were  to  be  seen  in  the  same  tree,  generally  at  about 
eight  to  ten  feet  from  the  ground.  We  have  no  precise 
information  as  to  the  eggs,  but  believe  that  they  are  two  in 
number,  and  of  a  white  colour.  In  the  months  of  June  and 
July,  the  inhabitants  of  the  surrounding  country  collect 
great  numbers  of  the  j-oung  birds,  before  the)''  are  able  to 
fly,  for  the  sake  of  the  oil  they  afford ;  this  is  said  to  burn 
freely,  and  to  furnish  a  clear  light.  When  flocks  of  these 
birds  ai-e  disturbed  they  rise  in  much  confusion,  but  soon 
form  in  regular  order,  usually  flying  in  long  lines,  though 
sometimes  in  a  triangle  like  geese,  with  their  long  bills  rest- 
ing on  their  breasts,  in  the  manner  represented  in  our  plate. 

C.  L.  Bonaparte  has  confounded  this  bird  with  the fus- 
cus,  from  which,  however,  it  appears  to  be  very  distinct, 
both  in  appearance  and  habits.  The  adult  bird  of  the  brown 
Pelican  is  blackish-ash,  back  and  wings  hoary;  crown  yel- 
lowish; neck  deep  chesnut,  margined  on  each  side  with 
white.  Middle  nail  serrated  internall}^  In  the  species 
under  consideration,  the  whole  plumage  is  white,  with 
the  exceptions  we  have  already  noticed.  The  nail  of  the 
middle  toe  is  smooth.  In  fact  we  should  be  more  inclined 
to  consider  it  as  a  variety  of  the  onocrotalus  than  of  the 
fuscus.  But  it  differs  from  both  these  in  its  habits.  The 
latter  soar  over  the  water  and  take  their  prey  by  plunging, 
whilst  the  Rough  billed  obtains  its  food  in  swimming,  scoop- 
ing up  mullets  and  other  fish  as  with  a  net;  it  also  occurs 
along  rivers  far  in  the  interior,  the  other  species  being 
almost  exclusively  confined  to  the  coast. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


SKATING. 

The  present  winter  has  afforded  ample  opportunity 
for  indulgence  in  this  delightful  exercise.  The  Delaware 
has  been  fast  bound  for  nearly  a  month,  with  a  clear  and 
extensive  sheet  of  ice,  upon  which  many  of  our  citizens 
have  displayed  their  skill  in  the  art.  Skating  is  both  a 
manly  and  innocent  amusement:  it  recommends  itself  in 
such  a  variety  of  pleasing  shapes  as  to  be  diligently  pursued 
by  the  young,  and  much  talked  of  by  the  old:  its  remines- 
censes  are  of  a  character  every  way  agreeable  to  the  mind, 
and  gratifying  to  the  heart,  and  it  may  well  be  ranked 
among  the  noblest  of  pastimes. 

The  art  of  Skating  is  of  comparatively  modern  introduc- 
tion. It  can  only  be  traced  to  Holland,  and  seems  to  have 
been  entirely  unknown  to  the  ancients.  Some  traces  of 
the  exercise  in  England,  are  to  be  found  in  the  thirteenth 
century,  at  which  period,  according  to  Fitz-Steven,  it  was 
customary,  in  the  winter  when  the  ice  would  bear  them, 
for  the  citizens  of  London  to  fasten  tlie  leg  bones  of  ani- 
mals under  the  soles  of  their  feet,  and  then  by  poles  push 
themselves  along  upon  the  ice.  The  wooden  skates  shod 
with  iron  or  steel,  were  brought  into  England  from  the 
low  countries.  With  the  Hollanders,  Skating  is  more  a 
matter  of  business  than  pleasure,  for  it  is  said,  that  the  pro- 
duce of  their  farms  is  carried  upon  the  heads  of  their  men 
and  women,  to  the  towns  and  cities  upon  the  borders  of  the 
canals,  there  to  be  sold,  and  articles  of  convenience  and 
luxury  purchased,  and  taken  back  in  like  manner  to  the 
country.  Less  attention  is  therefore  paid  by  them  to 
graceful  and  elegant  movements,  than  to  the  acquirement 
of  that  speed  wliich  is  necessary  to  what  it  is  termed  jour- 
ney skating,  as  long  and  rapid  excursions  are  frequently 


made  upon  the  ice,  when  the  streams,  natural  and  artificial, 
by  which  their  country  is  intersected,  are  frozen  over. 

Great  improvement  in  the  style  of  Skating  has  taken 
place  within  a  few  years  past,  and  various  figures  practised, 
to  which  the  earliest  skaters  were  strangers.  The  forward 
and  backward  movements,  commonlj',  but  as  it  is  thought, 
improperly  called  High  Dutch,  show  more  ease  and  grace 
than  any  others  within  the  range  of  the  Skates;  they  require 
very  little  exertion,  and  if  rightly  performed,  carry  the 
Skater  over  the  ice  with  amazing  rapidity.  In  the  former, 
the  lower  limbs  should  not  be  permitted  to  stride  much — 
the  swinging  foot  should  alwa3's  be  brought  down  nearly 
parallel  with  the  other,  when  about  to  receive  the  weight 
of  the  body,  and  at  the  same  time,  the  body  should  incline 
to  that  side  a  little  to  the  front,  making  an  angle  of  about 
seventy  degrees;  in  this  position,  the  foot  having  hold  of 
the  ice  will  aid  the  inclination  of  the  body  in  making  a 
bold  and  lengthy  curve,  as  also,  a  handsome  sweeping 
motion.  In  the  latter,  or  backward  High  Dutch,  the 
swinging  limb  must  always  act  as  a  balance  to  the  body, 
and  by  it  a  perfect  command  of  the  necessary  motions  ac- 
quired; the  limb  should  move  in  a  line  with  the  body  kept 
nearly  straight,  and  the  toes  pointed  downward.  In  all 
forward,  circular,  and  sweeping  movements,  the  body 
should  be  kept  as  erect  as  possible,  and  stooping  of  the 
neck,  head,  and  shoulders  avoided.  The  Skater  should 
never  look  at  his  feet,  and  seldom  throw  out  his  arms. 

In  graceful  Skating,  very  little  muscular  exertion  is  re- 
quired. The  impelling  motion  should  proceed  from  the 
mechanical  impulse  of  the  body  thrown  into  such  a  position 
as  to  regulate  the  stroke.  Chasinc;,  running,  and  jumping, 
tend  to  give  an  imperfect  idea  of  the  art,  and  produce  habits 
that  are  excessively  difficult  to  break.     Both  feet  should  be 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


used  alike — when  a  movement  is  performed  by  the  one,  it 
should  be  tried  by  the  other.  Too  much  Skating  on  the 
inside  of  the  Skate  prevents  the  acquirement  of  the  more 
beautiful  part  of  the  art,  resulting  from  the  frequent  and 
alternate  use  of  the  outer  edge  of  each  iron.  Skating  on  the 
outer  edge,  being  the  most  graceful  action,  is  the  most  diffi- 
cult to  perform,  and  requires  much  practice  and  great  skill. 
The  beautiful  attitudes  in  which  the  body  may  be  placed 
where  the  Skater  has  a  perfect  command  of  his  balance, 
will  amply  repay  him  for  any  care  he  may  have  bestowed 
on  the  acquirement  of  this  most  fascinating  part  of  the  ex- 
ercise. It  is  scarcely  possible,  however,  to  reduce  the  art 
to  any  thing  like  a  system.  The  best  way  to  acquire  a 
knowledge  of  it,  is  to  begin  when  young,  and  select  some 
good  Skater  as  a  pattern. 

Although  it  is  asserted,  by  some  modern  writers,  that 
the  metropolis  of  Scotland  has  produced  more  instances  of 
elegant  Skaters,  than  any  other  city  whatever,  the  opinion 
seems  to  be,  that  Philadelphia,  in  this  particular,  stands  un- 
rivalled. The  frequent  facilities  offered  by  the  freezing  of 
her  noble  rivers,  must  be  borne  in  mind.  There  is  scarcely 
a  winter,  in  which  Skating  is  not  practised  by  a  large  por- 
tion of  her  population  for  weeks  together,  and  the  climate 
is  of  so  fluctuating  a  character,  as  to  prevent  any  very  long 
interruption  of  the  amusement  during  the  cold  season. 
Many  gentlemen,  well  known  to  the  community,  have  dis- 
played considerable  skill,  and  uncommon  grace  in  the  art, 
and  caused  this  interesting  pastime  to  be  generally  noticed. 
It  is  recommended  by  its  excellent  effects  upon  the  body 
and  mind,  and  perhaps,  of  all  the  amusements  resorted  to, 
is  productive  of  the  least  inconvenience,  and  may  be  en- 
joyed at  trifling  risk.  Accidents  upon  the  ice  are  rare; 
they  are  generally  the  result  of  great  carelessness,  and  in 
Skating,  are  not  more  to  be  dreaded  than  those  met  with  in 
the  common  amusements  of  youth. 

An  entire  abandonment  of  the  old  fashioned  Skates,  com- 
monly known  by  the  name  of  gutters,  dumps,  rockers,  &c. 
is  strongly  recommended.  A  proper  Skate  iron,  is  in  shape 
very  much  like  the  runner  of  a  sleigh,  the  curvature  in  it 
being  very  slight.  The  American  Skates,  after  an  im- 
proved plan,  are  now  manufactured  by  Mr.  Thomas  W. 
Newton,  No.  60  Dock  street,  and  will,  in  the  course  of 
time,  come  into  general  use,  and  entirely  supersede  the 
foreign  article.  They  are  formed  altogether  of  iron,  the 
foot  piece  being  a  thin  plate  of  that  metal,  and  the  runner 
fastened  to  it,  by  having  several  projecting  points  passing 
through  holes  drilled  in  the  foot  piece,  and  rivetted,  form- 
ing a  strong  and  immovable  union,  a  point  in  which  the 
common  kind  is  very  deficient. 

The  principal  advantages  consist  in  the  breadth  of  the 
foot  plate,  and  the  foot  being  brought  viicch  nearer  the  ice. 
R 


The  plate  being  made  right  and  left,  gives  the  entire 
breadth  of  the  sole  of  the  boot.  It  is  also  a  little  hollowed 
and  turned  upwards  in  front,  fitting  the  shape  of  the  sole 
exactly,  and  so  pleasantly,  that  a  slight  strapping  suflSces  to 
hold  it  firm.  Instead  of  being  strapped  from  toe  to  heel, 
as  in  the  common  way,  the  strap  forms  a  bracing  across 
the  foot,  with  four  attachments  on  each  side.  The  pressure 
is  thus  so  equalized  as  to  make  it  very  comfortable;  upon 
taking  off  these  Skates,  after  hours  of  use,  no  cramping  of 
the  foot  is  felt;  the  great  advantage  in  having  so  many 
bearings  of  the  straps  is,  that  the  pressure  of  the  large  and 
continually  moving  tendons  of  the  instep  is  avoided. 

The  runners  are  brought  up  in  front  till  they  turn  over 
and  touch  the  top  of  tlie  foot,  and  being  rounded  on  the 
edges  and  highly  burnished,  the  appearance  is  light  and 
handsome;  this  form  is  not  given  merely  to  please  the  eye, 
for  if  every  Skater  used  this  shape,  those  accidents  which 
sometimes  happen  by  two  persons  hooking  the  points  of 
their  Skates  together,  would  never  occur.  The  best  im- 
provement, lately  discovered,  consists  in  making  the  run- 
ner the  entire  length  of  the  foot,  letting  it  come  back  to  the 
extremity  of  the  heel. 

That  great  desideratum,  the  firm  fixture  of  the  Skate  to 
the  heel,  has,  by  a  very  simple  plan,  been  perfected  in  the 
new  kind;  it  is  a  small  ketch  at  the  extreme  end  of  the 
heel,  which  is  with  great  facility  attached  to  a  screw  head 
that  is  fixed  and  ramains  in  the  boot  heel. 

The  iron  soled  Skate  is  not  a  new  invention;  it  was  used 
in  the  family  of  the  late  Mr.  Peale  more  than  thirty  years 
back. 

In  the  compilation  of  this  article,  we  are  indebted  to  one 
or  two  friends,  adepts  in  the  art  of  Skating,  for  their  ideas 
upon  the  subject,  and  have  also  derived  some  assistance 
from  a  piece  under  that  head,  to  be  found  in  Nicholson's 
Encyclopedia.  Should  what  we  have  written  tend  to 
bring  this  delightful  pastime  into  general  practice  in  the 
winter  season,  we  shall  be  more  than  repaid  for  any  little 
trouble  its  preparation  may  have  occasioned.  P. 


STRICTURE  ON  I.  T.  S. 

Messrs.   Editors, 

In  the  second  number  of  your  interesting  work,  a  cor- 
respondent has  presented  your  readers  with  an  entertain- 
ing and  lengthy  account  of  <<  Chesapeake  Duck  Shooting." 
I  read  it  with  considerable  pleasure,  as  well  from  the  faith- 
fulness of  his  description,  as  from  a  natural  fondness  I  have 
for  sporting,  or  for  any  thing  that  has  a  tendency  to  keep 
alive  its  spirit;  in  giving  his  ideas,  however,  of  shooting,  so 
far  as  relates  to  directing  tlic  gun  in  advance  of  the  duck 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


to  overcome  the  rapidity  of  its  flight,  I  beg  leave  to  differ, 
and,  in  doing  so,  I  am  well  aware  I  oppose  myself  to  the 
practice  of  many  a  good  shot,  whom  custom  and  prejudice 
have  confirmed  in  old  habits.  There  are  many  ways, 
nevertheless  of  accomplishing  the  same  end — what  one 
would  adopt,  another  rejects — and,  after  much  experience, 
strengthened  by  the  observations  of  others,  I  have  found 
that  more  depends  on  quickness  of  eye  in  covering  the 
bird,  and  a  simultaneous  touch  of  the  trigger,  than  in  any 
rule,  as  to  distance,  laid  down  by  your  correspondent. 
The  great  mistake  with  many,  which  leads  them  to  adopt 
your  correspondent's  mode,  is,  that  at  the  time  of  pulling 
the  trigger,  they  stop  the  swing  of  the  gun,  and  thus  shoot 
behind  the  bird,  whilst  if  the  swing  of  the  gun  was  kept 
up  in  a  ratio  corresponding  with  the  flight  of  the  bird,  and 
trigger  pulled  when  fairly  covered,  the  result  would  ever 
be  found  effective,  if  within  killing  distance.  When  flint- 
guns  were  in  general  use,  the  necessity  of  shooting  in 
advance  was  more  obvious,  as  often  times  a  considerable 
interval  elapsed  from  the  pull  of  trigger  to  the  discharge  of 
the  gun;  but,  since  the  introduction  of  the  percussion  prin- 
ciple, the  discharge  and  effect  are  so  simultaneous,  that  a 
good  eye  and  obedient  hand  are  now  only  necessary. 

With  regard  to  the  effect  of  shot,  when  "  heard  to  strike," 
I  would  also  take  the  liberty  of  dissenting;  the  very  cir- 
cumstance of  the  shot  being  heard  to  strike,  is  convincing 
to  my  mind  of  a  want  of  sufiicient  force  to  penetrate.  This 
may  be  illustrated  by  discharging  the  contents  of  a  shot- 
gun against  a  board  fence,  at  a  moderate  distance:  if  the 
striking  of  the  shot  can  be  heard,  it  will  be  found  on  exami- 
nation of  the  fence,  that  their  force  has  been  ineffectual: 
but  if,  on  the  other  hand,  the  action  of  the  shot  has  been 
silent,  their  power  will  be  evidenced  by  the  fact  of  their 
penetration,  in  every  part  of  the  wood:  it  is  the  resistance 
of  the  shot  by  the  object,  that  causes  their  action  to  be 
heard,  and  in  no  instance  will  they  be  found  to  be  fatal, 
when  this  is  the  case. 

By  giving  the  foregoing  observations  a  place  in  the  Cabi- 
net, you  will  oblige  a 

Jan.  31,  1831.  '  SPORTSMAN. 


AN  EXTRAORDINARY  WOLF  HUNT. 

In  the  winter  of  1815,  I  was  called  on  with  Capt.  W 

by  a  neighbour,  who  had,  the  evening  previous,  seven  sheep 
killed,  by  a  Wolf,  to  assist  him  in  the  destruction  of  this 
animal. 

We  were  then  residents  of  the  village  Deposit,  in  the 
county  of  Delaware,  state  of  New  York,  about  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles  north  of  Philadelphia,  and  near  the 


Pennsylvania  line,  and  having  the  character  of  sportsmen, 
we  were  often  called  upon  for  like  excursions,  and  priding 
ourselves  as  such,  we  never  suffered  any  huntsmen  of  our 
neighbourhood  to  excel  us  in  the  chase,  nor  to  take  the 
lead  when  it  depended  on  our  individual  exertions,  having 
assisted  in  the  destruction  of  many  bears,  wolves,  and 
panthers,  we  were  well  known  through  the  whole  county, 
which  was  ninety  miles  in  length. 

In  engaging  in  the  above  enterprise,  we  were  aware 
that  we  had  difficulties  to  encounter  of  no  ordinary  cast, 
and  knowing  that  many  of  our  most  experienced  huntsmen 
had  been  in  pursuit  of  this  same  Wolf  repeatedly,  without 
success,  we  were  ambitious  to  excel,  and,  accordingly, 
entered  into  our  engagement,  with  a  determination  to  kill 
him. 

It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  this  Wolf  was  well  known 
through  the  whole  county  for  ten  or  twelve  years,  from 
the  circumstance  of  having  lost  three  toes  off  his  left  fore 
foot,  by  a  steel  trap,  consequently,  his  track  being  different 
from  those  of  other  wolves,  he  commonly  went  by  the 
name  of  the  '■'three-legged  Wolf.^'  The  depredations  com- 
mitted by  this  animal  were  wonderful,  as  there  was  scarcely 
a  farm-house  in  the  county  that  he  had  not  visited,  and 
made  havoc  among  their  sheep,  frequently  destroying  four- 
teen in  a  single  night;  every  thing  which  could  be  devised 
for  his  destruction,  was  employed,  but  proved  fruitless;  he 
had  grown  wise  by  experience,  so  that  he  avoided  every 
thing  likely  to  entrap  him,  and  had  become  so  familiar 
with  the  chase,  as  to  elude  his  pursuers  with  the  greatest 
ease.  About  three  weeks  previous  to  our  chase,  this  Wolf 
entered  the  premises  of  Judge  Pine,  at  Walton,  and  killed 
for  him  nine  sheep  in  one  night;  word  was  sent  down  at 
that  time  with  an  invitation  for  us  to  join  them  that  day  in 
order  to  destroy  him.  But  knowing  there  were  many  pro- 
fessed hunters  in  that  place,  we  sent  word  by  the  express, 
that  "  they  must  guard  their  own  sheep,  and  if  he  came  to 
us  we  would  guard  ours."  Accordingly,  three  of  their 
ablest  hunters  went  in  pursuit  of  him,  and  after  a  circuitous 
chase  of  three  days,  gave  it  up,  and  left  him  within  ten 
miles  of  the  place  where  they  first  started,  and  the  very 
night  after,  the  Wolf  killed  three  sheep  for  one  of  the  men 
who  was  chasing  him  the  previous  day;  this  circumstance 
discouraged  them,  and  they  relinquished  the  chase  altoge- 
ther. It  is  well  known  amongst  hunters,  that  a  Wolf  can 
withstand  the  utmost  fatigue  when  he  can  find  means  to 
satisfy  his  hunger,  and  no  human  power  can  tire  him  down, 
but  keep  a  Wolf  constantly  on  the  run,  and  out  of  the  reach 
of  food,  he  soon  tires,  because,  being  of  exceeding  ravenous 
disposition,  his  hunger  returns  quickly,  and  the  means  of 
satisfying  being  kept  out  of  his  reach,  he  will  grow  weaker 
and  more  weak,  until  they  will  give  up  with  exhaustion; 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


67 


thus,  this  Wolf  having  had  a  hearty  repast,  the  third 
night,  his  pursuers  knew  it  would  be  fruitless  to  give  him 
further  chase,  and  therefore  gave  it  up. 

It  was  not  long,  however,  before  this  depredator  paid  us 
a  visit,  and  destroyed,  as  beforementioned,  seven  sheep 
for  the  farmer  that  had  requested  us  to  join  in  the  pursuit 
of  him. 

We  had  never  heard  of  a  Wolf  being  run  down  with  fatigue 
and  starvation,  but  our  acquaintance  with  the  animal  con- 
vinced us  of  the  practicability  of  the  thing,  and  knowing 
tills  was  the  only  probable  chance  we  had  to  exterminate 
him,  we  agreed  to  follow  him  until  this  was  the  case,  or 
an  opportunity  offered  during  the  chase  of  shooting  him 
with  our  rifles. 

When  the  request  was  made  to  me  by  our  neighbour, 

Capt.  W who  was  standing  near,  asked  me  what  I 

thought  of  it?  I  replied,  "he  must  die,  or  our  word  will 
be  forfeited."  "Well,"  says  he,  "let  us  fly  to  arms,  but 
then,  again,  let  us  be  satisfied  that  it  is  the  '  three-legged 
Wolf.'  "  We  went  to  the  place  where  he  had  destroyed  the 
sheep,  and  found  to  our  satisfaction,  that  it  was  the  old 
depredator  we  had  heard  so  much  about.  We,  without 
delay,  prepared  ourselves  for  the  chase;  our  dress  consisted 
of  a  complete  suit  of  flannel,  next  to  the  skin,  and  over 
this  another  suit  of  strong  linen  or  tow  cloth  (pantaloons 
and  frock)  to  fit  tight,  and  on  our  feet  moccasins:  this  was 
our  usual  hunting  dress,  and  required  to  be  very  strong,  in 
consequence  of  briars,  laurel,  under-brush,  and  snags;  in 
our  frocks  we  had  pockets  sufficiently  large  to  carry  pro- 
vision for  the  day;  thus  equipped,  with  rifles  in  our  hands, 
and  dogs  that  would  seize  any  wild  animal,  but  a  Wolf,  we 
started.  It  was  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning — there  were 
fifteen  ready  to  join  us,  and  the  ground  was  covered  with 
a  fine  tracking  snow,  about  eight  inches  deep.  Some  of 
the  company  were  considered  very  fast  runners,  and  those 
who  are  acquainted  with  the  Catskill  and  Delaware  moun- 
tains, are  sensible  that  a  horse  cannot  travel  over  them, 
and  that  every  thing  of  the  kind  must  be  done  on  foot. 
We  took  the  track,  and  followed  it  about  three  miles  to 
the  foot  of  a  mountain;  and  our  rule,  on  these  occasions, 
was  to  keep  a  fast  walk  on  the  track  until  the  animal  jumped 
from  his  bed,  and  then  the  fleetest  man  was  to  go  ahead  at 
full  speed. 

We  found  the  Wolf  had  gone  up  this  mountain,  which 
was  about  three  miles  to  the  summit,  and  very  steep  in 
places,  but  about  two-thirds  of  the  way  up,  we  aroused  him 
from  his  bed,  this  we  could  tell  by  the  snow  that  he  had 
beaten  down  to  repose  on.  We  ascended  the  mountain  as 
fast  as  we  could,  and,  on  arriving  at  the  top,  discovered 
that  he  had  steered  his  course  towards  the  Susquehannah. 
I  then  started  off  at  full  speed,   and  continued  so  for  about 


two  miles,  when  I  looked  behind  to  see  what  progress  my 
companions  were  making.  W —  was  close  to  me,  but  the 
others  were  just  in  sight — says  he,  "  go  on,  H —  if  he 
keeps  this  course,  about  five  miles  ahead  he  will  cross  a 
large  field,  and  if  we  run  faster  than  he  has  previously 
been  chased,  we  may  surprise,  and  get  a  shot  at  him."  I 
immediately  recollected  the  field,  and  coincided  with  his 
reasoning.  About  one  mile  behind  this  field,  we  feared 
he  would  cross  the  Cooquago  Creek,  ascend  a  mountain, 
and  enter  a  large  windfall,*  that  was  on  the  top  of  the 
mountain,  as  it  is  the  case  with  most  wild  animals,  when 
hard  pressed,  they  will  avail  themselves  of  these  difficult 
places  to  escape,  and  bears,  wolves,  or  panthers,  will  glide 
through  them  with  ease,  when  it  is  almost  impossible  for 
man.  I  therefore  exerted  myself  to  the  uttermost,  and, 
although  the  ground  was  covered  with  hemlock  logs,  &c. 
I  did  not  heed  them,  but  sprang  over  them  with  ease,  I 
ran  these  five  miles  in  a  very  short  period,  and  as  I  ap- 
proached the  field,  I  saw  the  Wolf  about  three  hundred 
and  fifty  yards  ahead,  and  finding  that  I  could  get  no  nigher 
to  him,  I  levelled  my  rifle  and  fired,  I  saw  the  snow  fly 
close  to  his  side,  but  he  went  off  unhurt.  My  rifle  would 
drop  her  ball,  in  that  distance,  nearly  three  feet,  conse- 
quently, I  had  to  guess  the  proper  range.  In  a  moment, 
Capt.  W —  was  by  my  side,  and  asked  what  I  had  done?  I 
told  him  that  I  had  not  struck  him.  We  continued  our 
chase,  and  I  loaded  as  I  ran,  and  only  stopped  to  put  down 
the  ball. 

It  appears  that  this  Wolf  knew,  by  experience,  (having 
been  so  often  chased)  how  far  exactly  to  keep  ahead  of  his 
pursuers;  but  it  was  evident  in  these  five  miles  we  gained 
on  and  surprised  him,  for  he  was  not  fully  aware  of  our 
Hearing  him  until  my  rifle  ball  struck  within  a  foot  of  his 
side;  this  put  him  to  a  greater  speed,  and  I  did  not  recover 
my  lost  ground  until  I  had  run  ten  miles,  so  equal  did  we 
run,  and  part  of  the  distance  was  run  through  the  windfall 
spoken  of.  He  kept  his  course  to  within  a  few  miles  of 
the  Susquehannah  river,  and  then  turned  towards  the  west 
Branch  of  the  Delaware,  and  ascended  a  mountain  which 
was  covered  with  hemlock  and  laurel.  The  last  four  hours 
we  run  him  so  hard,  that  he  would  lie  down  every  oppor- 
tunity he  could  get,  and  this  laurel  hill  afforded  him  means 
of  rest,  for  it  was  so  thick  we  could  hardly  creep  through 
it.  In  this  place  he  took  several  turns  to  elude  our  pursuit, 
and  one  of  us  went  back  in  order  to  way-lay  him,  in  hopes 
that  he  would  give  an  opportunity  to  shoot  him,  but  the 
thicket  being  so  dense,  that  we  could  see  but  a  very  short 
distance  in  it,  and  the  Wolf  glided  out  on  the  opposite  side 

*  A  windfall  is  a  place  in  the  forest,  where  a  hurricane  has  passed,  and 
swept  the  trees  to  the  ground,  in  a  large  confused  mass,  and  mostly  occurs 
on  the  tops  of  mountains,  and  in  the  most  dense  thickets. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


and  was  off  again.  In  this  waj^  he  got  considerable  rest, 
and  would  gain  on  us,  but  when  he  crossed  from  one  moun- 
tain to  another,  we  always  pushed  him  hard,  and  would 
gain  on  him,  as  the  mountain  sides  were  generally  more 
open,  and  even  then  he  would  occasionally  rest,  but  would 
always  choose  some  point  or  hillock,  where  he,  being  ele- 
vated, could  see  us  without  our  seeing  him.  A  Wolf,  like 
a  dog,  always  turns  round  once  or  twice  before  he  lies 
down,  but  this  fellow  had  become  so  fatigued  that  he  would 
just  drop  himself  every  now  and  then,  and  again  be  off. 
He  next  made  a  bold  push  in  order  to  reach  another  wind- 
fall and  thicket  about  ten  miles  ahead,  which,  it  appeared, 
he  was  well  acquainted  with,  and  which  was  close  to  the 
road  that  run  from  the  town  of  Bainbridge  to  Deposit. — 
The  sun  now  was  but  one  hour  high,  and  as  he  laid  his 
course  towards  that  place,  through  a  clear  open  wood,  on 
a  regular  descent,  we  pressed  him  hard  for  about  five  miles, 
when  we  again  saw  him  <ibout  four  hundred  yards  from  us, 
he  saw  us  at  the  same  time,  and  then  he  attempted  to  turn 
back  again,  so  that  he  might  reach  the  thicket  which  he 
had  just  left.  I,  however,  cut  him  off,  and  he,  seeing  my 
manoeuvre,  kept  his  former  course — we  began  to  think  that 
he  must  be  our's  very  soon,  for  we  gained  on  him  so  fast, 
that  I  concluded  it  time  to  give  him  another  ball,  but  un- 
fortunately he  entered  a  thicket  of  beech  brush  of  about 
two  acres,  which  completely  shielded  him  from  my  view. 
On  coming  up  we  found  he  had  slipped  out  on  the  opposite 
side,  and  then  made  off  for  the  beforementioned  windfall. 
It  was  now  getting  dark,  and  we  made  for  the  public  road, 
which  we  soon  reached,  and  to  our  joy  heard  bells,  which 
we  at  once  recognized  as  coming  from  a  sleigh  owned  by 
Capt.  Edicks;  we  fired  08"  our  rifles,  in  order  that  this  gen- 
tleman might  know  our  direction.  He  was  one  of  the 
company  who  started  with  us  in  the  morning,  but  gave  out, 
and  knowing  the  direction  the  Wolf  had  taken,  went  home, 
procured  his  sleigh,  and  came  out  very  seasonably  to  meet 
us,  as  we  were  then  fifteen  miles  from  home.  Our  dogs 
were  of  the  best  kind,  and  would  follow  us  while  they  had 
life,  but  we  had  outrun  them  so  much,  that  we  had  to  wait 
a  long  time  before  they  came  up  to  us.  It  is  remarkable, 
that  these  dogs  would  never  touch  the  Wolf,  they  would 
join  in  and  run  with,  but  never  injure  him.  We  arrived  at 
home  about  9  o'clock,  and  found  that  W —  and  myself  had 
been  forsaken  by  all  of  the  hunters,  about  the  time  when  I 
fired  at  the  Wolf  crossing  the  field;  they  being  so  far  be- 
hind us  as  scarcely  to  hear  the  rifle,  gave  up  the  idea  of 
overtaking  us,  and  returned  home.  By  this  time  the  report 
had  gone  abroad  that  we  were  in  pursuit  of  the  "three- 
legged  Wolf,"  and  old  and  young  appeared  full  of  anima- 
tion to  join  us  in  the  hunt  next  day.  We  took  great  care 
in  preparing  ourselves  for  the  next  day's  chase,   in  dress, 


victuals,  and  drink;  we  ate  but  lightly,  and  drank  nothing 
but  a  little  wine,  and  bathed  our  limbs  well  with  brandy, 
previous  to  retiring  to  bed,  and  thus  removed  all  stiffness 
and  bruises  which  we  had  received  through  the  day. 

Before  the  dawn  of  the  next  day,  a  company  had  assem- 
bled to  the  number  of  forty  persons,  fifteen  of  whom  had 
agreed  to  enter  the  chase;  the  rest  took  horses  and  went  in 
all  directions,  with  a  view  to  cut  the  Wolf  off.  In  this 
county  there  were  but  few  public  roads,  but  a  great  num- 
ber called  log  roads,  cut  through  the  forest  in  order  to  carry 
logs  to  the  river  for  rafting;  into  these  roads  were  stationed 
many  persons  on  horseback  and  in  sleighs,  while  the  party 
on  chase  went  immediately  to  the  spot  where  the  Wolf  was 
left  the  night  previous.  On  arriving  here,  we  found  that 
he  had  lied  down  and  remained  the  greater  part  of  the 
night  within  four  hundred  yards  of  the  place  where  we  left 
him,  then  it  appears  he  walked  ofl' about  two  miles  and  fell 
in  with  a  herd  of  Wolves,  and  kept  with  them  about  three 
miles  further;  then  tacked  about  and  steered  his  course  back 
to  within  two  miles  of  the  village  (Deposit)  from  which  we 
had  just  set  out,  and  near  to  the  very  place  where  he  had 
killed  the  seven  sheep  the  night  before.  It  was  a  remark- 
able circumstance  with  this  Wolf  that  he  was  never  known 
to  associate  with  other  Wolves,  and  when  he  committed 
depredations  it  was  always  when  alone;  for  Wolves  seldom 
ever  attack  singly,  but  most  generally  in  pairs,  and  it  never 
could  be  satisfactorily  accounted  for  why  this  depredator 
had  no  companions,  unless  it  was,  that  it  had  been  by  such 
that  he  was  led  into  a  trap,  which  had  cost  him  his  toes, 
and  nearly  his  life;  hence  the  reason  of  his  quitting  the 
herd  above  spoken  of.  It  was  now  late  in  the  day,  and  we 
had  gone  out  fifteen  miles,  and  returned  thirteen,  before  we 
juniptd  him  from  his  bed,  and  as  soon  as  this  was  the  case, 
the  swiftest  hunter  took  the  lead,  but  it  was  some  time  be- 
fore we  got  into  regular  Indian  file,  and  the  woods  seemed 
alive  with  men;  but,  after  running  about  five  miles,  the 
fresh  hands  began  to  fall  back,  and  by  the  time  we  reached 
ten  miles,  I  looked  behind,  and  seen  only  W — ,  who  was 
within  ten  steps  of  me.  As  this  was  the  first  time  that  we 
had  an  opportunity  of  competing  with  some  neighbouring 
crack  hunters,  and  these  having  relinquished  the  chase,  we 
plainly  saw  that  the  destruction  of  the  Wolf  depended 
solely  on  our  own  exertions;  this  circumstance,  instead  of 
discouraging,  only  animated  us  to  persevere.  The  Wolf 
next  steered  his  course  for  the  upper  part  of  the  county, 
and  we  pressed  him  at  a  rapid  pace ;  one  tried  to  excel  the 
other,  and  I  could  generally  take  the  lead  of  my  companion 
in  the  morning,  but  his  exceeding  perseverance  and  good 
bottom,  generally  brought  him  ahead  of  me  before  night, 
and  as  a  passing  tribute  to  his  prowess,  I  must  say,  that  I 
never  saw  his  equal,  as  a  huntsman ;  there  was  no  difficulty 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


too  great  for  him  to  overcome,  no  danger  so  formidable  but 
he  would  face  it,  and  he  was  as  fearless  of  the  consequences 
of  attacking  the  most  ferocious  animals,  as  though  they 
were  but  sheep;  and  hence,  in  the  present  difficult  under- 
taking, he  never  uttered  a  discouraging  word,  and  so  intent 
was  he  on  the  destruction  of  this  Wolf,  that  no  reward 
would  have  made  him  relinquish  the  chase. 

We  were  satisfied  that  this  animal  was  so  tired,  that  he 
could  not  travel  at  night  in  seaixh  of  food,  especially  as  he 
was  leading  oS"  from  the  places  of  his  former  depredations 
towards  the  Susquehannah,  and  it  was  evident,  by  the  re- 
peated beds  he  made  in  the  snow,  where  he  had  thrown  him- 
self down  for  momentary  repose,  that  he  could  not  sustain 
the  chase  much  longer,  he  however  soon  changed  his  course, 
and  turned  in  the  direction  of  the  river  Delaware  again. 

The  way  before  us  now,  was  down  the  mountain's  side, 
through  a  clear,  open  woods,  on  a  regular  descent  as  far  as 
the  eye  could  reach,  and  at  least  twelve  miles;  my  regular 
jumps  were  about  eight  feet;  after  running  this  distance,  I 
saw  the  Wolf,  just  as  I  approached  another  hill,  but  too  far 
from  me  to  do  execution,  and  had  there  been  two  miles 
more  of  this  open  wood,  he  certainly  would  have  fallen  a 
victim  to  our  rifles. 

But  ascending  the  hill  he  gained  on  us,  and  being  sensi- 
ble that  our  footsteps  were  retarded,  he  would  drop  him- 
self in  the  snow  every  few  paces,  and  get  some  rest.  On 
the  hill  he  entered  another  windfall,  around  which  he  took 
several  turns,  and  although  we  waylaid  him  again,  yet  he 
slipped  ofi"  and  made  for  a  thicket  about  three  miles  further 
on.  He  was  but  a  short  distance  from  us,  and  W —  and 
myself  pressed  on  with  greater  speed,  in  order,  if  possible, 
to  overtake  him  before  he  could  reach  this  thicket,  but  in 
spite  of  all  our  eflbrts  he  succeeded  without  our  once  seeing 
him.  W —  then  took  the  lead,  and  says  he,  "  if  we  can 
but  get  him  out  of  this  thicket  before  dark,  he  is  a  dead 
Wolf,  but  we  must  crowd  him  hard  before  night."  Be- 
fore us  lay  a  large  mountain,  which  w-e  knew  bordered  on 
the  river  Delaware,  and  close  to  a  small  place  called  Dick- 
inson's city,  and  which  consisted  of  four  log  houses,  hav- 
ing derived  its  name  from  some  early  settlers;  this  was 
twelve  miles  distant  from  our  village  Deposit.  The  Wolf 
run  this  thicket  for  two  miles  and  crossed  a  creek  called 
Trout  brook,  then  the  road  which  leads  to  W^alton,  and 
went  up  the  aforesaid  mountain;  when  we  came  to  the 
road  we  met  Mr.  Mossman,  who  informed  us  that  he  saw 
the  Wolf  pass  just  before  him,  and  ascend  the  mountain, 
and  that  he  was  but  two  minutes  ahead  of  us.  It  being  so 
dark,  we  gave  up  the  chase  for  the  day,  and  went  down  to 
Dickinson  cit}\  Here,  at  a  public  house  kept  by  Jesse 
Gilbert,  we  received  a  very  comfortable  repast,  indeed, 
exceeding  our  expectations.  About  five  miles  from  this 
S 


place,  lived  one  Derrick  Brewer,  and  much  celebrated  as  a 
great  runner,  and  huntsman;  him,  therefore,  we  deter- 
mined to  have,  if  possible,  to  join  us  for  the  next  day's 
hunt;  we,  accordingly,  gave  a  man  a  handsome  reward,  and 
despatched  him  express  after  Brewer,  with  a  request  for 
him  to  meet  us  at  Dickinson  before  day  light:  we  then 
retired  to  rest,  and  arose  before  dawn  of  day  much  refreshed, 
and  with  better  feelings,  but  somewhat  sorer  than  the  day 
previous.  Brewer  was  ready,  and  after  we  eat  a  slight 
breakfast,  (in  which  B.  refused  to  join  us)  we  started.  It 
appears  that  this  hunter  would  lace  himself  with  a  belt,  and 
never  eat  until  about  nine  o'clock,  while  we  would  not  clog 
nature,  and  eat  continually,  but  very  slightly,  which  kept 
up  a  constant  stimulus  in  our  systems,  as  we  always  carried 
biscuit  or  doe-nuts  with  us,  sufficient  to  last  the  day.  See- 
ing the  manner  Brewer  treated  himself,  W —  says  to  him, 
"  you  must  not  take  it  amiss  that  if  you  do  not  eat  break- 
fast, I  tell  you,  you  will  not  be  able  to  keep  up  with  us." 
"Well,"  says  Brewer,  "two  o'clock  will  decide  that." 
By  the  time  it  was  fairly  light,  we  were  at  the  spot  where 
we  had  left  him  the  night  previous,  and  we  had  not  pro- 
ceeded more  than  three  hundred  yards  up  the  hill,  before 
we  found  his  bed;  this  he  had  left  of  his  own  accord,  and 
walked  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  which  was  about  a  mile  and  a 
half  to  the  summit,  and  then  took  to  another  road  which 
led  direct  to  Walton,  and  continued  until  he  came  close  to 
Judge  Pines'  farm,  a  distance  of  fifteen  miles,  where  he  had 
a  few  weeks  previous  killed  so  many  sheep,  and  there  at 
the  foot  of  another  hill  he  had  reposed  for  the  remainder 
of  the  night.  We  soon  aroused  him,  and  he  took  directly 
up  this  hill,  which  was  exceedingly  steep,  but  up  which 
we  clambered,  with  slow  progress,  until  we  gained  the 
top.  We  had  walked  fifteen  miles,  and  as  I  was  first  on 
the  summit  of  the  hill,  I  looked  down  and  saw  W —  about 
thirty  yards  from  me,  and  Brewer  fifty^behind  him.  The 
Wolf  kept  his  course  on  the  brow  of  that  hill  for  three  miles, 
and  then  left  it  and  crossed  the  road  which  leads  from  Wal- 
ton to  Franklin,  on  the  Susquehannah,  here  I  stopped  and 
waited  for  my  companions.  W —  was  immediately  by  my 
side,  but  Brewer,  on  whom  we  depended  so  much,  came 
up  puffing  and  blowing;  Says  W — ,  "he  is  out  of  breath, 
his  lacing  wont  do,  he  must  give  nature  its  bounds." 
The  wood  before  us  was  open  for  six  miles,  and  gradually 
ascending,  but  not  so  much  as  to  prevent  our  taking  rapid 
strides;  as  I  neared  the  top  I  slacked  for  W —  to  come  up, 
but  Brewer  was  not  in  sight,  and  we  expected  he  had 
given  up  and  returned  home.  "Now,"  says  W — ,  "if 
the  Wolf  keeps  this  course,  we  will  have  a  regular  descent 
for  nine  miles."  I  then  started  at  full  speed,  guarding 
always  against  jumping  into  holes,  (in  which  case,  proba- 
bly, my  legs  would  have  been  broken,)  until  I  came  within 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


two  miles  of  the  foot  of  the  hill,  when  I  saw  the  rascal 
about  three  hundred  yards  ahead,  and  he  saw  me  at  the 
same  time.  We  now  had  it  as  hard  as  we  could  lay  to, 
and  I  saw  that  I  gained  on  him  but  slowly,  and  being  with- 
in one  hundred  and  seventy-five  yards  of  him,  I  fired  just 
as  he  was  quartering  on  me,  but  he  kept  his  course,  and 
rose  a  high  mountain  immediately  before  us.  I  re-loaded, 
and  proceeded  on,  and  found  that  he  had  dropped  in  the 
snow  so  often,  as  to  evince  the  greatest  fatigue,  and  nothing 
but  his  very  life  stimulated  him  on.  On  this  mountain 
were  many  windfalls,  and  other  diflFicult  places,  almost  im- 
passable for  man,  and  had  we  been  in  chase  of  any  other 
animal  but  the  "three-legged  Wolf,"  the  number  of  diflS- 
culties  at  this  time  would  have  disheartened  us,  but' we 
were  intent  on  victory,  and  our  infatuation  blinded  us  to 
difficulties,  and  made  us  callous  to  suffering.  Brewer  did 
not  hear  my  rifle,  but  it  appears  that  he  persevered  until  he 
came  to  the  spot  just  described,  when  he  gave  up  and  went 
home,  and  told  the  neighbours  that  he  was  certain  that 
W —  and  myself  would  kill  the  Wolf  before,  as  we  had 
nearly  killed  him  behind  us.  Our  antagonist  kept  his 
course  on  this  hill  for  seven  miles,  but  it  being  covered 
with  underbrush,  we  could  not  gain  on  him:  the  sun  was 
gliding  behind  the  distant  hills,  and  the  Wolf  having  so 
much  start  of  us,  we  concluded  to  look  out  for  quarters  to 
spend  the  night;  we  accordingly  ascended  a  high  point  on 
the  mountain,  and  in  a  valley  two  miles  distant  we  saw  a 
house,  whither  we  proceeded,  and  were  immediately  recog- 
nised by  a  young  man,  an  inmate  of  the  dwelling;  he  in- 
quired of  us  "  what  brought  us  there  in  our  hunting  dress, 
and  with  rifles."  We  told  him  we  were  after  the  "three- 
legged  Wolf"  "Ah,"  says  he,  "I  know  him  well;  I 
hope  you  will  not  leave  him  here,  for  only  three  weeks 
since  he  killed  eleven  sheep  in  one  night  for  us,  and  last  win- 
ter he  killed  eighteen  others;  has  he  not  lost  part  of  his  left 
fore  foot?"  We  told  him  we  were  satisfied  that  he  knew 
him,  as  that  was  his  description,  and  that  we  would  never 
give  him  up  until  we  destroyed  him,  unless  a  snow  should 
fall  so  as  to  obliterate  his  track.  This  was  fifty-two  miles 
from  our  homes,  in  a  direct  line,  and  I  have  no  doubt  we 
run  that  day  sixty  miles,  as  we  were  then  near  Delhi,  in 
the  upper  part  of  the  county. 

We  were  treated  with  great  hospitality  by  this  family, 
whose  name  was  Wilson,  and  every  thing  was  done,  to  make 
us  and  our  dogs  comfortable,  that  could  be  devised;  after 
drinking  some  tea  and  eating  but  little,  we  found  that  sleep 
was  more  desirable  than  any  thing  else,  and  we  retired  to 
rest.  Our  dogs  did  not  reach  the  house  for  some  time  after 
our  arrival,  and  then  they  were  in  a  wretched  condition; 
but  the  family  exercised  great  humanity  towards  them, 
cially  the  children,  who  had  taken  them  into  the  par- 


lour, and  were  rubbing  them  with  dry  napkins.  We  had 
requested  the  family  to  prepare  us  breakfast,  and  call  us  be- 
fore daylight,  and  so  anxious  were  they  to  afford  us  every 
facility,  that  the  children  took  turns  in  sitting  up  all  night, 
for  fear  we  might  oversleep  ourselves.  When  we  arose,  we 
found  a  repast  prepared  for  us,  with  some  doe-nuts  to  eat 
through  the  day.  This,  generally,  was  our  daily  food, 
and  for  drink  we  would  catch  up  a  handful  of  snow,  as  we 
ran,  not  allowing  ourselves  sufficient  time  to  slake  our 
thirst  at  a  brook. 

Before  light  we  started,  and  tracked  our  way  up  the 
mountain,  and  I  can  candidly  say,  I  never  felt  better  than 
at  that  time;  my  spirits  were  buoyant,  and  I  trod  with 
lighter  footstep  than  any  day  previous:  this  was  the  fourth 
day  of  our  hunt.  I  asked  Capt.  W —  how  he  felt;  says  he, 
"  I  feel  well,  victory  to-day,  to-day  the  Wolf  must  die." 
But  we  felt  keenly  for  our  poor  dogs;  for,  although  they 
had  been  so  well  nursed,  yet  they  could  not  move  a  step 
scarcely,  without  crying;  and  thus  they  continued  yelping 
until  they  had  followed  us  some  miles.  We  would  have 
left  them  at  the  farm-house,  but  they  howled  so  tei-ribly, 
we  were  obliged  to  let  them  follow  us.  About  light,  we 
got  on  the  Wolf's  track  again,  and  within  three  hundred 
yards  found  he  had  lied  down,  but  had  risen  again  in  the 
night,  voluntarily,  and  walked  not  more  than  ten  yards, 
before  he  made  another  bed  in  the  snow.  It  was  evident 
his  time  was  drawing  to  its  close,  for  in  the  last  bed  he  laid 
till  we  surprised  him  in  the  morning.  His  former  plan 
was,  after  we  had  ceased  chasing  him,  to  run  a  few  hun- 
dred yards,  then  lie  down  for  about  half  of  the  night, 
and  rise  again,  and  travel  off  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  into 
the  neighbourhood  of  his  depredations,  and  then  rest  pre- 
paratory to  the  next  nights  havoc  amongst  sheep;  but  now 
it  was  pretty  certain  that  we  had  tired  him  too  much  to 
waste  any  time  after  sheep,  and  that  he  did  not  possess 
power  to  travel  much  further. 

When  we  aroused  him  this  time,  he  led  right  off  from 
home,  but  we  cared  not  whither  he  went  so  that  he  left  a 
track  for  us  to  follow  him;  but  this  mountain  was  covered 
with  underbrush,  and  he  appeared  to  be  well  acquainted 
with  every  inch  of  ground  he  ran  over,  therefore  we  could 
not  push  him  to  the  extent  we  desired,  this  he  was  well 
aware  of,  and  he  would  choose  the  most  dense  and  difficult 
part  of  the  wood,  but  he  omitted  now,  making  his  usual 
circuits  about  the  windfalls,  as  he  had  no  time  to  spare,  and 
would  continue  his  course  direct.  We  followed  him  with 
renewed  speed  for  about  seven  miles,  when  he  left  the 
mountain,  and  directed  his  course  across  a  valley,  six  miles, 
to  another  mountain:  through  this  valley  was  clear  open 
wood,  and  we  pressed  him  so  hard,  that  he  began  to  lengthen 
his  jumps,  and  made  no  more  beds  in  the  snow,  until  he 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


71 


reached  the  above  mountain,  where  he  had  opportunities 
again  to  rest,  as  the  side  on  which  he  ran  was  so  perpendi- 
cular that  we  made  but  slow  progress.  We  found  that  he 
would  drop  himself  to  rest,  every  few  steps,  and  just  keep- 
ing so  far  ahead  as  to  be  out  of  our  sight,  although  we  were 
confident  he  saw  us  continually.  On  arriving  at  the  lop  of 
the  mountain,  we  found  he  had  made  a  start  for  a  thicket, 
on  the  same  mountain,  before  we  could  overtake  him,  but 
the  course  he  was  going  was  a  gradual  descent  for  about 
fifteen  miles,  until  it  terminated  at  the  foot  of  another 
mountain,  which  was  in  that  range  called  Pine  Hill,  on 
the  head  waters  of  the  west  branch  of  the  Delaware  river. 

I  started  off  at  full  speed  down  this  side  of  the  mountain, 
making  long  jumps;  I  never  felt  better;  and  with  ease  to 
myself  could  run  a  mile  in  five  minutes;  my  limbs  felt  in- 
vigorated, and  my  speed  was  superior  to  any  of  the  former 
days.  I  continued  so  for  nearly  thirteen  miles,  and  then 
came  within  sight  of  the  Wolf  He  was  then  but  two 
hundred  yards  in  advance  of  me,  and  he  had  yet  two  miles 
further  to  go  before  he  could  reach  the  mountain,  and  this 
through  open  wood;  he  used  every  exertion  to  quicken  his 
pace,  but  in  spite  of  his  efforts,  I  gained  on  him.  I  had  run 
but  one  mile  since  I  got  sight  of  him,  and  when  I  was  within 
forty  yards  of  him,  he  looked  behind  at  me,  and  seeing  no 
possible  chance  of  escaping,  dropped  his  tail  between  his 
legs,  and  stopped;  I  ran  within  twenty  yards,  and  shot  a 
ball  immediately  through  his  body — he  fell,  and  arose 
again ;  crack  went  Capt.  W.  's  rifle,  and  down  he  dropped 
dead,  in  a  moment  my  foot  was  on  his  neck;  but  we  were 
at  a  loss  to  express  our  joy — we  were  in  the  midst  of  an 
extensive  forest,  and  we  knew  not  where;  we  charged  our 
rifles,  and  gave  four  rounds  in  commemoration  of  the  four 
days'  chase.  Our  difficulties  were  not  yet  to  an  end,  for 
we  were  determined  to  take  him  home,  we  accordingly  cut 
a  small  stick,  and  twisted  one  end,  fastened  it  to  his  upper 
jaw,  and  while  one  carried  the  rifles,  the  other  dragged  him 
on  the  snow.  It  appeared,  on  examining  the  Wolf,  that 
I  had  struck  him  on  the  flank  the  day  previous,  when  I 
fired  at  him,  to  about  the  depth  of  the  ball,  cutting  the  flesh, 
but  not  so  as  to  retard  his  progress.  W^e  continued  drag- 
ging him,  and  followed  down  a  small  branch,  which,  we 
were  convinced,  would  either  lead  us  to  the  Delaware,  or 
Susquehannah:  and,  after  proceeding  about  eight  miles, 
came  to  a  farm-house,  occupied  by  a  Mr.  Sawyer;  he  soon 
recognized  us,  and  seeing  us  dragging  a  Wolf,  asked  if  we 
had  the  "  three-legged  Wolf?"  and  when  we  answered  in 
the  affirmative,  says  he,  "I  will  hold  a  day  of  rejoicing, 
for  I  have  but  few  sheep  left  from  last  winter,  as  he  then 
killed  nine,  and  eight  of  them  were  my  best  ewes,  and,  I 
suppose,  he  came  here  for  more  mutton. — Tell  me,"  con- 
tinued he,  "what  I  can  do  for  you,  and  it  shall  be  done." 


We  asked  him  if  he  would  take  us  in  his  sleigh  towards 
our  home,  or  until  we  could  find  some  of  our  neighbours 
that  would  take  us  the  balance  of  the  way.  We  were  then 
eighty  miles  from  our  village  of  Deposit,  in  a  direct  line, 
and  he,  without  hesitation,  agreed  to  do  so.  The  next  day 
we  arrived  at  Walton;  here  were  assembled,  some  of  our 
companions  who  had  started  with  us  on  the  hunt  from 
Deposit,  having  heard  the  course  the  Wolf  had  taken,  had 
followed  us  as  nigh  as  they  could  guess,  and  this  being  the 
last  place  they  could  hear  of  us,  they  concluded  to  remain 
here.  The  number  of  persons  assembled  at  Walton,  out 
of  curiosity,  was  about  one  hundred,  to  see  the  result  of 
the  chase,  as  every  farmer  appeared  to  be  deeply  interested 
in  the  destruction  of  this  Wolf;  and  making  a  calculation, 
we  found  that  the  persons  assembled  there  alone,  had  sheep 
destroyed  by  him  nearly  to  the  amount  of  one  thousand 
dollars.  Wlien,  therefore,  they  saw  our  success,  it  appeared 
as  though  they  could  not  do  too  much  for  us;  they  escorted 
us  home  with  fifteen  sleighs  (a  distance  of  thirty  miles)  and 
our  fame  resounded  throughout  the  whole  county,  with 
the  benediction  of  "blessed  is  he  that  holdeth  out  to  the 
end."  T.  M.  H. 


PETRIFIED  FOREST  OF  MISSOURI. 

The  folllowing  letter,  directed  to  Mr.  Peale,  of  the 
Philadelphia  Museum,  has  been  received,  with  a  specimen 
of  the  petrified  wood,  taken  from  the  forest,  and  a  descrip- 
tion of  this  interesting  change  of  nature  attached  to  it;  both 
are  inserted  at  length,  so  that  all  doubts  on  the  subject  may 
be  put  to  rest. 

Greensburgh,  5th  Nov.  1S30. 

SiK, 

About  eighteen  months  since  I  had  received  from  Lieut. 
G.  H.  Crosman,  of  the  U.  S.  Army,  a  specimen  of  the 
Petrifactions  in  the  Forest  of  Missouri,  with  the  intention 
of  forwarding  it  by  some  convenient  opportunitj^,  to  be 
deposited  in  your  valuable  Museum.  Other  engagements, 
however,  have  hitherto  prevented  me  from  carrying  this 
intention  into  eflect,  until  my  attention  was  this  morning 
called  to  the  subject  by  an  article  in  the  National  Journal, 
of  the  30th  ult.,  extracted  from  the  New  York  Evening 
Post,  referring  to  an  article  in  the  Philadelphia  Chronicle. 

It  is  evident,  from  the  specimen  now  forwarded,  as  well 
as  from  the  information  received  from  Mr.  Crosman,  that  it 
is  a  true  petrifaction,  and  not  merely  an  incrustation.  The 
appearance  would  indicate  a  calcareous  mineralizing  matter; 
this,  however,  is  not  the  fact,  as  proved  by  the  application 
of  sulphuric  acid.     It  is   evidently  silicious,    although  I 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


have   not    taken   the   pains   of   making   the   experiment; 
although  sufficiently  apparent  from  its  hardness,   &c. 

I  enclose  the  article  in  the  Journal,  to  which  I  have 
alluded,  and  will  forward  the  specimen  with  this,  the  first 
convenient  opportunity. 

Very  respectfully,  your  obd't  servant, 

A.  W.  FOSTER. 

The  following  is  attached  to  the  specimen  now  in  the 
Philadelphia  Museum: — "Petrifaction  of  Wood. — This 
piece  of  petrified  wood,  was  broken  from  the  stump  of  a 
tree  measuring  fifteen  feet  in  circumference,  and  about  four 
feet  in  height,  by  actual  measurement.  It  was  found  on 
the  S.  W.  bank  of  the  Missouri  River,  about  thirty  miles 
below  the  mouth  of  the  Yellow  Stone,  and  nearly  opposite 
the  junction  of  White  Earth  River  with  the  Missouri,  in 
lat.  about  48°  15'," 

The  most  remarkable  facts,  concerning  the  petrfaci- 
tions  of  this  region,  are,  that  stumps,  limbs  and  roots 
of  trees  of  all  sizes,  broken  into  fragments,  lie  scattered 
over  the  country  for  a  distance  of  thirty  or  forty  miles,  at 
an  elevation  above  the  level  of  the  river,  of  at  least  five 
hundred  feet,  and  at  a  point  which  is  computed  at  six  or 
seven  thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  Ocean. 

Surgeon  Gale,  of  the  Army,  who,  as  well  as  myself, 
was  attached  to  the  military  expedition  that  ascended  the 
Missouri  in  1825,  from  Council  Bluffs  to  Two  Thousand 
Mile  Creek,  and  who  accompanied  me  on  an  exploring 
and  hunting  excursion,  across  the  country,  from  below  the 
mouth  of  White  Earth  River,  to  the  Y^ellow  Stone,  as- 
sisted in  examining  and  measuring  the  stumps  of  some  of 
those  petrified  trees,  and  he  gave  it  as  his  opinion,  that 
from  the  appearance  of  the  country,  some  thousand  years 
must  have  elapsed  since  a  thick  forest  of  timber  stood 
where  now  nothing  remains  but  these  petrified  fragments 

He  was  rather  inclined  to  the  opinion,  that  the  kind  of 
wood,  was  the  cotton  wood  of  the  Missouri  country,  com- 
mon enough  along  the  banks  of  the  Missouri  river  and  its 
tributaries. 

This  subject  furnishes  abundant  matter  for  the  natural 
philosopher,  for  whose  curiosity  and  speculation  it  is  here 
submitted.  G-   H.   CROSMAN, 

U.  S.  Army. 


DEFENCE  OF  THE  PERCUSSION. 

The  general  opinion  is,  that  shot  is  propelled  to  a  greater 
distance  and  with  more  uniform  velocity  from  a  gun,  in 
proportion  as  the  force  of  powder  exceeds  the  weight  of 
shot;  and  it  is  upon  this  false  supposition  that  the  anti-per- 
cussionists have  grounded  their   objections  to  detonating 


guns,  by  affirming,  that  "the  explosion  takes  place  so  in- 
stantaneously that  the  whole  of  the  load  of  powder  is  not 
ignited,  and  that  a  portion  is  driven  out  unexploded." 

It  is  well  known  that  the  resistance  which  bodies  meet 
with  in  passing  through  a  fluid,  increases  as  the  square  of 
their  velocity.  Therefore  a  load  of  shot,  passing  through 
the  air  at  a  given  rate,  would  meet  with  four  times  the  re- 
sistance if  its  speed  were  doubled.  Hence,  if  one  drachm 
of  powder  will  carry  a  load  of  shot  forty  yards  with  a  given 
force,  the  power  of  two  drachms  would,  it  is  true,  give  a 
double  velocity  to  the  shot  at  its  egress  from  the  muzzle  of 
the  gun;  but  the  resistance  being  now  four  times  greater 
than  in  the  former  instance,  the  force  of  it  at  the  distance 
of  forty  yards  would  be  very  much  diminished. 

I  have  shot  three  seasons  with  my  present  gun,  which  is 
a  double-barrelled  detonator.  For  the  two  first  seasons  I 
used  the  proportions  for  the  load  which  I  received  from 
the  gunmaker,  and  during  that  time  I  do  not  recollect  to 
have  killed  a  bird  fartlier  than  forty  paces.  Thinking  this 
might  be  improved  upon,  I  determined  to  try  the  effect  of 
reducing  the  quantity  of  powder;  and  having  first  loaded 
with  the  original  charge  (and  No.  5  shot),  I  fired  at  a  tin 
powder  flask  at  the  distance  of  forty  measured  yards,  and 
struck  it  with  five  shots,  but  the  marks  were  barely  per- 
ceptible. I  then  reduced  the  quantity  of  powder  (only) 
one  quarter,  and  the  shots  made  much  deeper  indentations 
in  the  tin  than  before.  I  then  reduced  the  powder  still 
further,  to  about  two-thirds  of  the  original  charge,  and  the 
result  answered  my  expectations  fully:  for  I  found  five 
shots  as  firmly  set  in  the  tin  as  stone  was  ever  set  in  gold. 
I  measured  the  distance  of  two  shots  at  birds:  one  was 
sixty-two  paces,  and  the  other  sixty-three;  in  both  instances 
the  birds  fell  dead  at  the  fire. 

I  have  from  the  first  maintained  that  a  detonator  ignites 
more  grains  of  powder  than  a  flint  and  steel  gun  does. 
The  result  of  my  experiment  has  fully  established  my  opin- 
ion upon  this  point.  The  fire  from  the  copper  cap  being 
driven  with  considerable  force  into  the  load  of  powder,  ig- 
nites the  whole;  the  force  of  which  explosion  being  too 
great  for  the  weight  of  shot,  diminishes  at  a  certain  distance 
the  velocity  of  the  latter. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  fire  communicates  with  the  pow- 
der in  the  barrel  of  a  flint  and  steel  gun  merely  by  the  igni- 
tion of  grain  by  grain;  so  that  just  as  much  of  the  powder, 
and  no  more,  explodes  as  is  sufficient  to  discharge  the  load. 

A  proper  regulation  of  the  charge,  therefore,  seems  alone 
requisite  to  make  a  detonator  carry  as  strong  as  a  flint  and 
steel  gun;  and  if  the  means  for  diminishing  the  force  of 
the  powder  instead  of  increasing  it,  had  been  consulted, 
less  time  would  have  produced  a  more  satisfactory  result. 
Sporting  Magazine. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


PRAIRIE    WOLF. 

CANIS  LATRANS. 

[Plate  VII.] 

Small  Wolf.  Du  Pratz,  Louisiana,  vol.  ii.  p.  54. — 
Prairie  Wolf.  Lewis  &  Clark. — Canis  latrans. 
Say,  Expedition  to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  i.  p.  168. 
Richardson,  Faun.  Am.  bor.  73. — Barking  Wolf. 
GoDMAN,  i.  p.  260. — Philadelphia  Museum. 


It  is  a  subject  of  regret,  that  the  information  we 
respecting  most  of  our  native  quadrupeds,  and  more  espe- 
cially of  those  which  are  confined  to  the  western  portion  of 
this  continent,  should  be  so  exceedingly  scanty  and  defec- 
tive; this  is  particularly  the  case  with  the  subject  of  our  pre- 
sent sketch;  by  far  the  greater  proportion  of  our  knowledge 
of  the  Prairie  Wolf  being  derived  from  the  description 
given  of  it  by  JNIr.  Say,  in  the  work  above  cited ;  and  that  of 
Dr.  Richardson,  in  his  Fauna  Americana  Boreali;  it  is 
true,  that  it  had  been  previously  noticed  by  other  travel- 
lers, but,  their  accounts  are  too  succinct  and  confused  to  af- 
ford such  data  as  are  required,  either  to  establish  its  identity, 
or  to  enable  us  to  ascertain  its  peculiar  habits.  We  shall, 
therefore,  freely  avail  ourselves  of  the  labours  of  the  distin- 
guished naturalists,  just  mentioned,  incorporating  with  their 
descriptions,  such  additional  information  as  we  have  met,  in 
the  course  of  our  investigations. 

The  Prairie  Wolf  appears  to  have  been  well  known  to 
Indian  traders,  and  by  them  distinguished  from  its  kindred 
species,  long  before  it  was  recognized  by  naturalists.  Dr. 
Richardson  states,  that  skins  of  this  animal  have  always 
formed  part  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company's  importations, 
under  the  title  of  cased  wolves;  so  called  because  they  are 
not  split  open  like  the  skins  of  larger  animals,  but  stripped 
off  and  inverted  as  those  of  the  fox  and  rabbit. 

They  are  found  in  the  western  parts  of  the  United  States 
and  Canada,  being  extremely  numerous  in  the  prairies  to 
the  west  of  the  Missouri,  and  also  occur,  though  not  so 
plentifully,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Colombia.  Their  north- 
ern limit  is  about  the  fifty-fifth  degree  of  north  latitude; 
but  our  information  as  to  their  southern  range  is  very 
vague,  though  it  is  probable  that  they  are  found  in  the 
northern  provinces  of  Mexico. 

Their  general  colour  is  cinereous  or  grey,  mixed  with 
black,  dull  fulvous  or  cinnamon  above.  The  hair  is  dusky 
plumbeous  at  base,  dull  cinnamon  in  the  middle  of  its 
length,  and  grey  or  black  at  its  extremity;  it  is  longer  on 
the  vertebral  line,  than  on  other  parts  of  the  body.  The 
ears  are  erect,  rounded  at  tip  and  lined  with  grey  hair;  of 
T 


a  cinnamon  colour  behind.  The  e^'elids  are  edged  with 
black;  the  superior  eyelashes  are  black  beneath  and  at  tip 
above;  the  supplemental  lid  is  margined  with  blackish 
brown  before  and  edged  with  the  same  colour  behind;  the 
iris  is  yellow  and  the  pupil  blue-black;  there  is  a  blackish- 
brown  spot  upon  the  lachrymal  sac.  The  face  is  of  a  cin- 
namon colour,  with  a  greyish  tint  on  the  nose;  the  lips  are 
white,  edged  with  black,  and  having  three  rows  of  black 
bristles.  The  head  between  the  ears  is  grey,  intermixed 
with  a  dull  cinnamon  colour,  the  hairs  being  dull  plumbeous 
at  base.  The  colour  of  the  sides  is  paler  than  that  of  the 
back,  with  faint  black  bands  above  the  legs,  which  are  of  a 
cinnamon  colour  on  the  outside,  becoming  brighter  poste- 
riorily.  The  tail  is  straight,  fusiform,  and  bushy,  of  a  grey 
colour  mixed  with  cinnamon,  and  having  a  spot  near  the 
base  above  and  the  tip  black;  beneath  it  is  white. 

These  animals  differ  exceedingly  in  their  markings  and 
general  colour,  some  specimens  not  having  the  brown  tints, 
but  being  almost  wholly  of  a  grey  hue,  with  an  intermix- 
ture of  black  in  irregular  spots  and  lines;  other  individuals 
have  a  broad  black  mark  on  the  shins  of  the  fore  legs,  like 
the  European  wolf  Our  representation  is  taken  from  well- 
preserved  specimens  in  the  Philadelphia  Museum,  obtained 
by  Mr.  T.  R.  Peale,  whilst  attached  to  the  Expedition  to 
the  Rocky  Mountains,  under  the  command  of  Major  Long. 

The  Prairie  Wolf  is  about  three  feet  and  a  half  in  length, 
including  the  tail,  which  is  about  one  foot.  The  ears  are 
four  inches  in  height  from  the  top  of  the  head.  The  extre- 
mity of  the  trunk  of  the  tail,  reaches  the  projection  of  the 
OS  calcis,  when  the  leg  is  extended.  They  bear  so  strong 
a  resemblance  to  the  domestic  dog,  so  common  in  the  In- 
dian villages,  that  Mr.  Say  is  of  opinion  they  are  the  ori- 
ginal stock  from  whence  the  latter  is  derived.  Their 
bark  also  is  very  similar  to  that  of  the  dog;  in  fact  the  first 
two  or  three  notes  cannot  be  distinguished  from  those  of  a 
small  terrier,  but  these  are  succeeded  by  a  prolonged  yell. 
It  was  from  this  peculiarity  of  barldng,  that  Mr.  Say  be- 
stowed the  specific  name  of  latrans  on  this  animal.  This 
species  does  not  diffuse  the  offensive  odour,  so  remarkable 
in  most  of  the  other  species,  particularly  the  nubilus  (Say. ) 

The  Prairie  Wolves  occur  in  great  numbers  in  the  great 
western  plains,  uniting  like  their  brethren  the  jackals,  in 
packs  for  the  purpose  of  hunting  deer,  which  they  fre- 
quently succeed  in  running  down  and  killing,  particularly 
in  a  hard  winter  when  a  crust  forms  on  the  snow.  It  is 
also  said,  that  they  will  drive  these  animals  into  a  lake  and 
remain  concealed  in  the  vicinity,  watching  till  the  exhausted 
deer  return,  and  fall  an  easy  prey  to  their  insatiate  pursuers. 
This  is  the  more  probable,  as  it  is  well  known  that  some  of 
the  other  species  of  American  wolves  practice  equally  inge- 
nious stratagems  to  entrap  animals  of  superior  speed.     Cap- 


74 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


tain  Franklin  gives  the  following  interesting  account  of  this 
mode  of  taking  their  prey.  "  So  much  snow,"  says  he, 
"  had  fallen  on  the  night  of  the  24th,  that  the  track  we  in- 
tended to  follow  was  completely  covered;  and  our  march 
to-day  was  very  fatiguing.  We  passed  the  remains  of  two 
red  deer,  lying  at  the  bases  of  perpendicular  cliiTs,  from  the 
summits  of  which  they  had  probably  been  forced  by  the 
wolves.  These  voracious  animals,  who  are  inferior  in 
speed  to  the  moose,  or  red  deer,  are  said  frequently  to  have 
recourse  to  this  expedient,  in  places  where  extensive  plains 
are  bounded  by  precipitous  cliffs.  Whilst  the  deer  are 
quietly  grazing,  wolves  assemble  in  great  numbers,  and, 
forming  a  crescent,  creep  slowly  towards  the  herd,  so  as 
not  to  alarm  them  much  at  first;  when  they  perceive  that 
they  have  fairly  hemmed  in  the  unsuspecting  creatures, 
and  cut  off  their  retreat  across  the  plain,  they  move  more 
quickly,  and  with  hideous  yells  terrify  their  prey,  and 
urge  them  to  flight  by  the  only  open  way,  which  is  to- 
wards the  precipice;  appearing  to  know  that,  when  the 
herd  is  once  at  full  speed,  it  is  easily  driven  over  the  cliff 
— the  rearmost  urging  on  those  that  are  before.  The 
wolves  then  descend  at  their  leisure,  and  feast  on  the 
mangled  carcases." 

Mr.  Say  seems  to  think  that  they  require  an  exercise  of 
all  their  speed,  to  succeed  in  the  chase  of  a  deer  or  young 
buffalo,  but  from  the  statement  of  Dr.  Richardson,  and  of  a 
writer  in  the  Sporting  Magazine,  it  appears,  that  they  are 
very  swift  and  long  winded,  the  former  of  these  gentlemen 
states,  that  he  was  informed  by  a  trader  who  had  resided 
for  many  years  in  the  Hudson  Bay  Company's  possessions, 
that  the  only  animal  which  surpassed  the  Prairie  Wolf  in 
swiftness,  was  the  prong  horned  antelope.  Notwithstand- 
ing their  speed  and  cunning,  they  are  often  exposed  to  great 
distress  for  want  of  food,  and  are  reduced  to  the  necessity 
of  satisfying  their  hunger  with  prairie  mice,  snakes,  &c., 
and  even  of  appeasing,  in  some  degree,  the  cravings  of  ap- 
petite by  distending  their  stomach  with  wild  plums,  and 
other  equally  indigestible  food.  They  have  been  known 
to  lay  waste  fields  of  corn,  of  which  grain  they  are  very 
fond  when  it  is  in  a  green  state.  They  will  also  venture 
near  the  encampment  of  the  traveller,  and  follow  the  hunter 
in  hopes  of  partaking  of  any  offals  that  may  be  left. 

The  Prairie  Wolf  closely  resembles  the  other  species  in 
rapacity  and  cunning;  there  are  few  animals  that  are  more 
suspicious  and  mistrustful,  or  avoid  snares  and  traps  with 
such  intuitive  sagacity.  Mr.  Say  gives  the  following  ac- 
count of  plans  of  taking  them,  which  were  attempted  by 
Mr.  Peale:  "He  constructed  and  tried  various  kinds  of 
traps,  one  of  which  was  of  the  description  called  a  'live 
trap,'  a  shallow  box,  reversed  and  supported  at  one  end  by 
the  well  known  kind  of  trapsticks,  usually  called  the  '  figure 


four,'  which  elevated  the  front  of  the  trap,  upwards  of  three 
feet  above  its  slab  flooring;  the  trap  was  about  six  feet  long, 
and  nearly  the  same  in  breadth,  and  was  plentifully  baited 
with  ofl'al.  Notwithstanding  this  arrangement,  a  wolf  actu- 
ally burrowed  under  the  flooring,  and  pulled  down  the  bait 
through  the  crevices  of  the  floor;  tracks  of  different  sizes 
were  observed  about  the  trap.  This  procedure  would  seem 
the  result  of  a  faculty  beyond  mere  instinct. 

"  This  trap  proving  useless,  another  one  was  constructed  in 
a  different  part  of  the  country,  formed  like  a  large  cage,  but 
with  a  small  entrance  on  the  top,  through  which  the  animals 
might  enter,  but  not  return;  this  was  equally  unsuccessful: 
the  wolves  attempted  in  vain  to  get  at  the  bait,  as  they 
would  not  enter  by  the  route  prepared  for  them. 

"A  large  double  'steel  trap'  was  next  tried;  this  was 
profusedly  baited,  and  the  whole  carefully  concealed  be- 
neath the  fallen  leaves.  This  was  also  unsuccessful.  Tracks 
of  the  anticipated  victims,  were  next  day  observed  to  be  im- 
pressed in  numbers  on  the  earth  near  the  spot;  but  still  the 
trap, with  its  seductive  charge,  remained  untouched.  The  bait 
was  then  removed  from  the  trap,  and  suspended  over  it  from 
the  branch  of  a  tree;  several  pieces  of  meat  were  also  sus- 
pended in  a  similar  manner  from  trees  in  the  vicinity;  the  fol- 
lowing morning  the  bait  over  the  trap  alone  remained.  Sup- 
posing that  their  exquisite  sense  of  smell,  warned  them  of 
the  position  of  the  trap,  it  was  removed,  and  again  covered 
with  leaves,  and  the  baits  being  disposed  as  before,  the  leaves 
to  a  considerable  distance  around  were  burned,  and  the  trap 
remained  perfectly  concealed  by  ashes,  still  the  bait  over  the 
trap  was  avoided.  Once  only  this  trap  was  sprung,  and  had 
fastened,  for  a  short  time,  on  the  foot  of  another  species" — 
(C.  nubilus — Say.  J 

Not  disheartened  by  these  fruitless  attempts,  which  were 
repeated  and  varied  in  every  possible  manner,  Mr.  Peale 
attempted  another  scheme,  which  eventuated  in  complete 
success.  "  This  was  a  log  trap,  in  which  one  log  is  ele- 
vated above  another  at  one  end,  by  means  of  an  upright 
stick,  which  rests  upon  a  rounded  horizontal  trigger  stick 
on  the  inferior  log." 

There  can  be  but  little  doubt,  that  the  Prairie  Wolf  might 
be  domesticated,  for  it  is  a  remarkable  fact  in  the  history 
of  animals,  that  the  larger  carnivora  are  more  readily  and 
completely  tamed  than  the  smaller.  This  may  arise  from 
several  causes,  but  the  most  prominent  is,  that  although 
they  are  endowed  with  greater  strength,  they  are  likewise 
possessed  of  a  superior  degree  of  intelligence.  Experience 
confirms  the  truth  of  this  reasoning.  There  is  no  carni- 
vorous animal,  that  may  not  be  tamed  by  proper  treatment, 
and  which  will  not  become  useful  and  even  affectionate  to  a 
certain  degree.  But  this  disposition  is  evinced  in  very  dif- 
ferent proportions  by  different  species.     Thus,  the  smaller 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


carnivora,  even  when  most  perfectly  tamed,  retain  charac- 
ters pecuhar  to  themselves,  which  can  never  be  eradicated; 
the  cat,  although  caressed  and  fondled,  seldom  or  ever  for- 
gets the  marked  propensities  of  her  race,  whilst  the  dog, 
though  infinitely  more  powerful,  loses  his  natural  peculia- 
rities to  assume  those  of  his  master.  Instinct  appears  to 
militate,  in  the  strongest  manner,  against  education,  whilst 
those  animals  possessing  more  of  that  faculty  approaching 
to  human  reason,  are  capable  of  acquiring  habits  and  man- 
ners wholly  at  variance  with  their  natural  character. 


THE  OSTRICH. 


Unequalled  in  stature  among  birds,  strikingly  peculiar 
in  its  form,  singular  in  its  habits,  and  eagerly  sought  after 
as  furnishing  in  its  graceful  plumes  one  of  the  most  elegant 
among  the  countless  vanities  both  of  savage  and  civilized 
life,  the  Ostrich  has  always  excited  a  high  degree  of  inte- 
rest in  the  minds  even  of  the  most  superficial  observers. 
But  far  more  strongly  does  this  feeling  prevail  in  that  of 
the  reflecting  naturalist,  who  does  not  regard  this  gigantic 
bird  as  an  isolated  portion  of  the  great  system  of  nature, 
but  perceives  in  it  one  of  those  remarkable  links  in  the 
complicated  chain  of  the  creation,  too  often  invisible  to 
human  scrutiny,  but  occasionally  too  obvious  to  be  over- 
looked, which  connect  together  the  various  classes  of  ani- 
mated beings.  With  the  outward  form  and  the  most  essen- 
tial parts  of  the  internal  structure  of  Birds,  it  combines  in 
many  of  its  organs  so  close  a  resemblance  to  the  Rumina- 
ting Quadrupeds,  as  to  have  received,  from  the  earliest 
antiquity,  an  epithet  indicative  of  that  affinity  which  later 
investigations  have  only  tended  more  satisfactorily  to  esta- 
blish. The  name  of  Camel-Bird,  by  which  it  was  known, 
not  only  to  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  but  also  to  the  nations 
of  the  East;  the  broad  assertion  of  Aristotle,  that  the 
Ostrich  was  partly  Bird  and  partly  Quadruped;  and  that  of 
Pliny,  that  it  might  almost  be  said  to  belong  to  the  Class 
of  Beasts;  are  but  so  many  proofs  of  the  popular  recognition 
of  a  well  authenticated  zoological  truth. 

The  Ostrich,  in  fact,  is  altogether  destitute  of  the  power 
of  flight,  its  wings  being  reduced  to  so  low  a  degree  of 
development  as  to  be  quite  incapable  of  sustaining  its 
enormous  bulk  in  the  air.  Its  breast-bone  is  consequently 
flattened  and  uniform  on  its  outer  surface,  like  that  of  a 
Quadruped,  offering  no  trace  of  the  elevated  central  ridge 
so  generally  characteristic  of  Birds,  and  so  conspicuously 
prominent  in  those  which  possess  the  faculty  of  supporting 
themselves  long  upon  the  wing.  Its  legs,  on  the  contrarj^, 
are  excessively  powerful;  and  are  put  in  action  by  muscles 


of  extraordinary  magnitude.  This  muscular  power,  toge- 
ther with  the  great  length  of  its  limbs,  enables  it  to  run 
with  incredible  swiftness,  and  to  distance,  with  little  exer- 
tion, the  fleetest  Arabian  horses.  The  total  want  of 
feathers  on  every  part  of  these  members,  and  their  division 
into  no  more  than  two  toes,  connected  at  the  base  by  a 
membrane,  a  structure  not  unaptly  compared  to  the  elon- 
gated and  divided  hoof  of  the  Camel,  have  always  been 
considered  striking  points  of  resemblance  between  these 
animals:  but  there  is  another  singularity  in  their  external 
conformation  which  affords  a  still  more  remarkable  coin- 
cidence. They  are  both  furnished  with  callous  protube- 
rances on  the  chest,  and  on  the  posterior  part  of  the 
abdomen,  on  which  they  support  themselves  when  at  rest; 
and  they  both  lie  down  in  the  same  manner,  by  first 
bending  the  knees,  and  then  applying  the  anterior  callosity, 
and  lastly,  the  posterior,  to  the  ground.  Add  to  this  that, 
equally  patient  of  thirst,  and  endowed  with  stomachs  some- 
what similar  in  structure,  they  are  both  formed  for  inha- 
biting, to  a  certain  extent,  the  same  arid  deserts,  and  it 
will  readily  be  granted,  that  the  affinity  between  these 
animals  is  not  so  fanciful  as  might,  at  first  sight,  be  ima- 
gined. 

The  family  of  Birds,  of  which  the  Ostrich  forms  the 
leading  type,  is  remarkable  for  the  wide  dispersion  of  its 
several  members;  each  of  them  vindicating,  as  it  were,  to 
itself,  a  distinct  portion  of  the  surface  of  tlie  earth.  The 
Ostrich,  which  is  spread  over  nearly  the  whole  of  Africa, 
is  scarcely  known  beyond  the  limits  of  the  Arabian  deserts; 
while  the  Cassowary  occupies  its  place  amid  the  luxuriant 
vegetation  of  the  Indian  Archipelago.  The  Emeu  is  con- 
fined to  the  great  Australian  Continent,  and  the  Rhea  to 
the  southern  extremity  of  the  Western  Hemisphere.  And 
finally,  returning  homewards,  we  find  the  Bustard,  the 
largest  bird  of  this  quarter  of  the  globe,  receding,  it  is 
true,  in  some  particulars,  from  the  typical  form,  but  still 
fairly  to  be  regarded  as  the  representative  of  the  family  in 
Europe.  Some  species,  however,  belong  to  the  same  group 
with  this  latter  bird,  extend  themselves  over  a  considerable 
portion  both  of  Africa  and  Asia. 

The  principal  external  characters  by  which  the  birds 
above  enumerated  are  connected  together,  consist  in  the 
absence  of  the  hind-toe,  of  which  not  even  a  vestige  re- 
main; in  the  length  and  power  of  their  legs,  which  are 
completely  bare  of  feathers;  in  the  shortness  of  their  wings, 
and  their  uselessness  as  organs  of  flight;  in  the  length  of 
their  necks;  and  in  their  strong,  blunt,  flattened  bills.  The 
plumes  of  the  more  typical  among  them  are  distinguished 
by  the  want  of  cohesion  between  their  barbs,  a  cohesion 
which,  in  other  birds,  is  manifestly  subservient  to  the 
purposes  of  flight,  and  which  would,  therefore,  have  been 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


superfluous  in  these,  which  never  raise  themselves  above 
the  surface  of  the  ground.  Their  food  is  almost  entirely 
vegetable,  and  consists  of  seeds  and  fruits,  or,  rarely,  of 
eggs  and  worms.  Between  the  crop,  which  is  of  enormous 
size,  and  the  gizzard,  which  varies  in  thickness  and  power, 
several  of  them  are  furnished  with  an  additional  ventricle, 
analogous  to  the  structure  which  prevails  in  Ruminating 
Quadrupeds.  They  occupy  a  station  in  some  degree  in- 
termediate between  the  Rasorial  Birds  and  the  Waders, 
approaching  the  latter  in  many  particulars  of  their  out- 
ward form,  but  much  more  closely  connected  with  the 
former  in  their  internal  structure,  in  their  food,  and  in 
their  habits. 

Of  the  differential  characters  which  give  to  the  Ostrich 
the  rank  of  a  genus,  the  most  important  is  founded  on  the 
structure  of  its  feet,  which  have  only  two  toes,  both  di- 
rected forwards,  and  connected  at  their  base  by  a  strong 
membrane;  the  internal  being  considerably  larger  than  the 
external,  and  being  furnished  with  a  thick  hoof-like  claw, 
which  is  wanting  in  the  latter.  The  legs  are  covered  with 
a  rugged  skin,  reticulated  in  such  a  manner  as  to  present 
the  appearance  of  large  scales:  they  are  completely  naked 
throughout,  even  in  the  muscular  part,  which,  like  the 
under  surface  of  the  wings,  is  bare  of  feathers,  and  exhibits 
a  flesh-coloured  tinge.  The  wings  are  each  of  them  armed 
with  two  plumeless  shafts,  resembling  the  quills  of  a  Por- 
cupine. Instead  of  quill-feathers,  they  are  ornamented 
with  gracefully  undulating  plumes,  and  similar  appendages 
terminate  the  tail.  The  long  neck  is  covered  on  its  upper 
half  with  a  thin  down,  through  which  the  colour  of  the 
skin  is  distinctly  visible.  The  head  is  small  in  proportion 
to  the  magnitude  of  the  bird,  and  is  invested  with  the  same 
kind  of  covering  as  the  neck,  except  on  its  upper  surface, 
which  is  bald  and  callous.  The  ears  are  naked  on  the 
outside,  and  hairy  within;  the  eyes  are  large  and  brilliant, 
and  so  prominently  placed  as  to  enable  both  to  obtain  a 
distinct  view  of  the  same  object  at  the  same  time.  They 
bear  a  remarkable  similarity  to  the  eyes  of  mammiferous 
quadrupeds,  and  have  frequently  been  compared  to  those 
of  man,  which  they  also  resemble  in  the  breadth  and  mo- 
bility of  their  upper  lids,  and  in  the  lashes  by  which  these 
organs  are  fringed.  The  beak  is  short,  straight,  broad  at 
the  base,  and  rounded  at  the  point,  flattened  from  above, 
downwards,  extremely  strong,  and  opening  with  a  wide 
gape.  The  nostrils  are  seated  near  the  base  of  the  upper 
mandible,  and  are  partly  closed  by  a  cartilaginous  protu- 
berance. 

The  African  Ostrich  is  the  only  species  to  which  the 
foregoing  characters  are  applicable.  It  is  generally  from 
six  to  eight  feet  in  height.  The  lower  part  of  the  neck  of 
the  male,  and  the  whole  of  its  body,   are  clothed  with 


broad  and  short  feathers  of  a  deep  black,  intermingled  with 
a  few  others,  which  are  nearly  white,  and  are  barely  visi- 
ble, except  when  the  plumage  is  rufiled.  In  the  female 
the  general  colour  of  the  featliers  is  of  a  greyish,  or  ashy- 
brown,  slightly  fringed  with  white.  In  both  sexes  the 
lai-ge  plumes  of  the  wings  and  tail  are  beautifully  white. 
The  bill  is  of  the  colour  of  horn,  becoming  blackish  towards 
the  point.  The  iris  is  deep  hazel.  On  the  head  and  neck  ^g 
the  hairy  down  is  clear  white.  In  the  young  bird  these 
parts,  as  well  as  the  muscles  of  the  legs,  are  covered  like 
the  rest  of  the  body,  with  ash-coloured  feathers,  which  fall 
off  after  the  first  year,  and  are  not  again  produced. 

Tlie  character  of  the  Ostrich,  like  that  of  other  granivo- 
rous  birds,  is  extremely  mild.  It  never  makes  use  of  its 
great  muscular  power  to  attack,  and  rarely  even  in  its  own 
defence.  It  generally  has  recourse  to  flight,  as  its  most 
effectual  security  against  danger;  and  were  its  intelligence 
equal  to  its  velocity,  this  resource  would  seldom  fail  of 
success.  The  chase  of  these  birds  is  accounted  one  of  the 
most  skilful  and  difficult  exercises  both  for  the  Arab  and 
his  horse,  requiring  at  once  the  most  unwearied  patience 
and  the  most  reckless  impetuosity.  The  former  is  abso- 
lutely necessary,  in  order  to  keep  them  within  sight,  and 
to  watch  their  motions  as  they  wheel  round  in  a  circle  of 
greater  or  less  extent,  and  the  latter  to  seize  the  favourable 
opportunity  of  dashing  down  upon  them  in  their  course, 
and  disabling  them,  which  is  generally  effected  by  means 
of  a  stick  thrown  with  dexterity  between  their  legs.  A 
chase  of  this  kind  will  frequently  last  from  eight  to  ten 
hours.  When  taken,  they  evince  no  ill  humour,  and  after 
a  time  become  in  some  degree  docile,  suffering  themselves 
to  be  mounted  and  ridden  like  horses.  M.  Adanson,  who 
had  several  times  witnessed  the  spectacle  in  Senegal,  de- 
clares, that  even  when  mounted  by  two  men,  they  outstrip- 
ped in  speed  an  excellent  English  horse.  In  running  they 
always  expand  their  wings,  not,  as  has  been  erroneously 
imagined,  to  catch  the  wind  in  order  to  assist  them  in  their 
flight,  for  they  do  it  indifferently,  whether  running  with 
or  against  the  wind,  but,  in  all  probability,  to  counterba- 
lance their  great  heighi,  by  the  extension  of  these  lateral 
appendages. 

Their  natural  food  consists  entirely  of  vegetable  sub- 
stances, and  more  especially  of  seeds  and  the  various  kinds 
of  grain,  in  pursuit  of  which  they  frequently  commit  the 
greatest  devastation  among  the  crops  in  cultivated  countries. 
But  so  obtuse  is  the  sense  of  taste  in  this  bird,  that  it 
swallows  with  the  utmost  indifference,  sometimes  even 
with  greediness,  whatever  comes  in  its  way,  whether  of 
animal  or  mineral  origin,  partly  for  the  purpose,  as  it 
should  seem,  of  distending  its  stomach,  and  partly  also  to 
assist,  like  the  gravel  in  the  crops  of  our  common  poultry, 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


in  the  trituration  of  its  food.  Its  fondness  for  the  metals, 
in  particular,  was  early  remarked,  and  obtained  for  it  the 
epithet  of  the  "  iron-eating  Ostrich."  Popular  credulity 
even  went  so  far  as  to  assign  to  it  the  power  of  digesting 
these  substances,  and  many  are  the  allusions  in  our  older 
writers  to  this  fancied  property.  As  an  amusing  illustra- 
tion of  the  prevalence  of  this  belief,  we  may  quote  the  fol- 
lowing characteristic  lines  from  "The  Boke  of  Philip 
Sparow,"  written  by  Master  John  Skelton,  a  laurelled  poet 
of  the  reign  of  King  Henry  the  Eighth: 

The  Eslridge  that  will  eate 
An  horshowe  so  greate 
In  the  steade  of  meat 
Such  fervent  heat 
His  stomake  doth  freat. 

We  know  not  if  the  Ostriches  of  these  days  are  given  to 
the  eating  of  horseshoes;  but  unquestionably  they  have  a 
particular  fancy  for  keys,  nails,  and  other  such  easily  dis- 
posed of  articles.  It  would,  however,  be  perfectly  ridiculous 
to  imagine  that  the  stomach  of  this  bird  is  capable  of  digest- 
ing metals,  and  converting  them  into  food,  although  it  is 
undoubtedly  true,  that  after  having  lain  in  that  organ  for  a 
length  of  time,  they  become  corroded  by  its  juices.  M. 
Cuvier  found  in  the  stomach  of  an  individual  that  died  in 
the  Paris  Menagerie,  nearly  a  pound  weight  of  stones,  bits 
of  iron  and  copper,  and  pieces  of  money,  worn  down  by 
constant  attrition  against  each  other,  as  well  as  by  the  action 
of  the  stomach  itself.  The  human  stomach,  we  may  add, 
is  equally  capable  of  a  similar  exertion,  although  not  so 
frequently  called  upon  to  put  it  to  the  test.  Many  of  our 
readers  will  no  doubt  recollect  the  case  of  an  American 
sailor,  who  died  in  one  of  the  London  hospitals  in  1809, 
and  who  had  swallowed,  in  the  ten  previous  years,  no 
fewer  than  thirty-five  clasp-knives.  Fragments  of  these, 
to  the  number  of  between  thirty  and  forty,  thirteen  or 
fourteen  of  them  being  evidently  blades,  were  found  in  his 
stomach  after  death.  "Some  of  these,"  says  Dr.  Marcet, 
in  his  account  of  the  case,  "  were  remarkably  corroded  and 
reduced  in  size,  while  others  were  comparatively  in  a  tole- 
rable state  of  preservation."  More  than  one  instance  of  a 
similar  description  has  since  been  put  on  record. 

Although  the  Ostriches  live  together  in  large  herds,  the 
received  opinion  among  naturalists  is,  that  the  males  attach 
themselves  to  a  single  female.  There  is  some  diificulty  in 
determining  the  number  of  eggs  laid  by  the  latter;  some 
travellers  estimating  it  as  high  as  eighty,  while  others 
reduce  it  to  ten.  Of  this  latter  opinion  was  Le  Vaillant, 
whose  authority  is  decidedly  entitled  to  the  highest  respect 
on  every  subject  connected  witli  the  habits  of  birds,  which 
he  studied  in  a  state  of  nature  with  the  scrutinizing  eye 
of  a  philosopher,  and  the  patient  zeal  of  a  scientific  observer. 
U 


He  relates,  however,  a  circumstance  which  once  fell  under 
his  own  observation,  and  which  tends  in  some  measure  to 
reconcile  these  discordant  statements,  while  at  the  same 
time  it  renders  it  questionable  whether  the  Ostrich  is  not, 
occasionally  at  least,  polygamous.  Having  disturbed  a 
female  from  a  nest  containing  thirty-eight  eggs  of  unequal 
size,  and  having  thirteen  others  scattered  around  it,  he 
concealed  himself  at  a  short  distance,  and  observed,  during 
the  day,  no  less  than  four  females  successively  taking  part 
in  the  maternal  office.  Towards  the  close  of  the  evening, 
a  male  also  took  his  share  of  the  duty;  and  Le  Vaillant 
remarks,  that  he  has  frequently  had  opportunities  of  veri- 
fying the  fact,  that  the  male  bird  sits  as  well  as  the  female. 
In  this  case  it  would  appear  probable  that  several  females 
had  deposited  their  eggs  in  one  common  nest.  The  extra- 
ordinary number  of  eggs  said  to  have  been  sometimes  found, 
may  also,  perhaps,  be  accounted  for  by  the  fondness  of  the 
natives  for  these  delicacies,  which  they  abstract  from  the 
nest  by  means  of  a  long  stick,  cautiously  avoiding  to  intro- 
duce their  hands,  which,  they  affirm,  would  infallibly  drive 
the  bird  to  abandon  the  place.  The  Ostrich  naturally  con- 
tinues laying  in  order  to  complete  her  usual  number;  and  in 
this  way  forty  or  fifty  eggs  may  actually  have  been  obtained 
from  a  single  female. 

Within  the  torrid  zone  the  eggs  are  merely  laid  in  tlie 
warm  sand,  the  female  sometimes  sitting  upon  them  during 
the  night;  but,  in  general,  the  rays  of  the  sun  are  sufficiently 
powerful  to  hatch  them,  without  any  assistance  on  her  part. 
She  does  not,  however,  as  has  been  commonly  stated,  ne- 
glect her  offspring,  but  watches  over  them  with  as  much 
solicitude  as  any  other  bird,  hovering  around  the  spot  in 
which  they  are  deposited,  and  if  surprised  in  her  occupation, 
making  a  short  circuit,  and  constantly  returning  to  the 
object  of  her  care.  This  doubling  kind  of  flight  is  regarded 
by  the  hunters  as  a  certain  sign  of  the  vicinity  of  her  eggs, 
as  at  all  other  times  the  Ostriches  pursue,  for  a  time  at 
least,  a  direct  and  straight  forward  course.  In  the  more 
temperate  regions,  and  especially  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
the  Cape,  the  Ostrich  sits  like  other  birds,  always  choosing 
the  most  retired  and  solitary  places.  Her  nest  consists 
merely  of  a  pit  of  about  three  feet  in  diameter  dug  in 
the  sand,  which  is  thrown  up  around  it  so  as  to  form  an 
elevated  margin.  At  some  little  distance  are  usually  placed, 
each  in  a  separate  cavity  in  the  sand,  a  number  of  rejected 
eggs,  which  are  said  to  be  intended  to  serve  as  nutriment 
for  the  young  brood,  as  soon  as  hatched;  a  most  remark- 
able instance  of  foresight,  if  tiuly  stated,  but  not  yet  con- 
firmed beyond  the  possibility  of  doubt. 

The  eggs  are  extremely  hard,  very  weighty,  and  twenty 
or  thirty  times  as  large  as  those  of  our  common  hen.  The 
colour  of  the  shells  is  a  dirty  white,   tinged  with  light 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


yellow.  These  are  frequently  formed  into  cups;  and  are 
used  in  various  ways  as  ornaments  by  the  natives  of  the 
countries  in  which  they  are  found.  The  eggs  themselves 
form,  according  to  Thunberg,  an  article  of  considerable 
commerce  at  the  Cape,  where  they  are  sold  to  the  vessels 
that  touch  there,  the  thickness  of  their  shells  rendering 
them  preferable  for  a  sea-voyage  to  those  of  any  other  bird. 
They  are  generally  regarded  as  great  luxuries;  but  on  this 
point  there  is  some  difference  of  opinion,  M.  Sonnini 
affirming  that,  either  from  habit  or  from  prejudice,  he  could 
not  bring  himself  to  consider  them  so  good  as  the  eggs  to 
which  he  had  been  accustomed;  while  M.  Cuvier  raptu- 
rously exclaims,  that  they  are  not  merely  to  be  regarded  as 
delicacies,  but  are,  in  fact,  "ipsissimse  delicise;"  an  expres- 
sive but  untranslatable  phrase,  which  we  can  only  render, 
in  piebald  English,  the  ne  plus  ultra  of  good  eating.  It 
is  by  no  means  improbable  that,  in  the  latter  instance, 
the  rarity  of  the  dish  conferred  upon  it  a  higher  relish 
than  its  own  intrinsic  flavour  would  have  warranted;  as 
was  undoubtedly  the  case  when  the  dissolute  Roman  Em- 
peror, in  Rome's  degenerate  days,  ordered  the  brains  of 
six  hundred  Ostriches  to  be  served  up  to  his  guests  at  a 
single  supper. 

The  flesh  of  these  birds  was  among  the  unclean  meats 
forbidden  to  the  Jews  by  the  Mosaical  law.  It  seems, 
however,  to  have  been  in  especial  favour  with  the  Romans, 
for  we  read  of  its  being  frequently  introduced  at  their 
tables.  We  are  even  told  by  Vopiscus,  that  the  pseudo- 
Emperor  Firmus,  equally  celebrated  for  his  feats  at  the 
anvil  and  at  the  trencher,  devoured,  in  his  own  imperial 
person,  an  entire  Ostrich  at  one  sitting.  It  is  to  be  hoped 
that  the  bird  was  not  particularly  old ;  for  it  is  allowed  on 
all  hands,  at  least  in  the  present  day,  that  when  it  has 
reached  a  certain  age,  it  is  both  a  tough  and  an  unsavoury 
morsel.  The  young  are,  nevertheless,  said  to  be  eatable; 
and  we  may  well  imagine  that  the  haunch  of  such  a  bird 
would  furnish  a  tolerably  substantial  dish.  The  Arabs,  it 
may  be  added,  have  adopted  the  Jewish  prohibition,  and 
regard  the  Ostrich  as  an  unclean  animal;  but  some  of  the 
barbarous  tribes  of  the  interior  of  Africa,  like  the  Struthio- 
phagi  of  old,  still  feed  upon  its  flesh  whenever  they  are 
fortunate  enough  to  procure  it. 

The  Ostriches  in  the  Society's  collection  would  be  truly 
a  noble  pair,  were  it  not  for  an  unnatural  curve  in  the 
neck  of  the  male,  in  consequence,  it  is  said,  of  its  having 
formerly  swallowed  something  more  than  usually  bulky, 
and  hard  of  digestion.  It  was  probably  on  account  of  this 
slight  deformity  that  the  female  took  upon  herself,  soon 
after  their  arrival  in  the  Gardens,  to  tease  and  worry  him 
in  various  ways,  so  that  the  poor  bird  was  literally  hen- 
pecked by  his  mate.     This  system  of  persecution  was  at 


length  carried  so  far  that  it  was  found  necessary  to  sepa- 
rate them,  and  the  female  has  now  the  whole  enclosure 
to  herself.  She  is  a  remarkably  fine  bird,  in  excellent 
health  and  condition,  and,  when  her  neck  is  elevated  to 
its  utmost  pitch,  is  fully  eight  feet  in  height.  They  were 
both,  formerly,  in  the  possession  of  the  late  Marchioness 
of  Londonderry,  on  whose  death  they  were  presented  to 
the  Society,  by  the  Marquis  of  Lothian,  in  the  spring  of 
the  present  year. — Menag.  Zool.  Society. 


From  the  Edinburgh  Philosophical  Journal. 

(ESTRUS  HOMINIS, 

Or  the  Larva  of  a  Gad-Fly,  luhich  deposits  its  Eggs  in 
the  Bodies  of  the  Human  Species. 

An  accurate  knowledge  of  the  natural  history  of  the 
genus  CEstrus,  (gad-fly  or  breeze)  is  of  great  importance  in 
an  economical  point  of  view,  when  we  consider  that  the 
most  valuable  of  our  domestic  animals,  the  horse,  ox,  and 
sheep,  form  the  usual  nidus  for  their  development  and  in- 
crease, and  are  frequently  incommoded,  sometimes  essen- 
tially injured,  or  even  destroyed,  by  their  attacks.  The 
insect  called  botts  by  farriers,  is  the  larva  of  the  CEstrus 
Equi,  and,  although  Mr.  Bracy  Clark  (to  whom  we  owe 
the  best  account  of  that  and  other  species  of  the  genus)  con- 
cludes that,  upon  the  whole,  they  are  not  injurious  to  the 
horse,  it  appears  from  the  accounts  of  Valisnieri,  that  the 
epidemic  which  proved  so  fatal  to  the  horses  of  the  Man- 
tuan  and  Veronese  territories  during  the  year  1713,  was 
primarily  occasioned  by  these  larvae.  The  disease  called 
staggers  in  sheep  is  likewise  occasioned  by  an  insect  of 
this  genus,  [CEstrus  ovis)  and  the  hides  of  cattle  are  per- 
forated by  another  kind,  which  lives  beneath  the  skin. 
The  reindeer  of  the  Laplanders,  which  has  been  said  to 
unite  in  one  animal  the  useful  qualities  of  many,  is  more 
than  almost  any  other  a  martyr  to  a  species  of  gad-fly, 
probably  peculiar  to  itself,  and  therefore  named  by  natural- 
ists CEstrus  Tarandi. 

That  man  himself,  the  "Lord  of  the  Creation,"  should 
be  the  subject  of  similar  attacks,  is  not  so  generally  known. 
Humboldt,  however,  mentions,  that  he  examined  several 
South  American  Indians,  whose  abdomens  were  covered 
with  small  tumors,  produced  by  what  he  inferred  (for  no 
very  positive  information  seems  to  have  been  acquired  on 
the  subject)  to  have  been  the  larva?,  of  some  species  of 
Qistrus.  Larvfe  of  analogous  forms  have  also  been  detected 
in  the  frontal  and  maxillary  sinuses  of  Europeans;  and  the 
surgical  and  physiological  journals  of  our  own  and  other 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


countries,  have  reported  extraordinary  instances  of  flies, 
beetles,  &c.  working  out  their  way  from  different  parts  of 
the  human  frame. 

Air.  Clark  mentions  a  case  in  which  the  gad-fly  of  the  ox 
appears  to  have  left  its  accustomed  prey,  and  deposited  its 
eggs  in  the  jaw  of  a  woman,  who  eventually  died  of  disease 
produced  by  the  botts  which  sprung  from  the  eggs.  Leeu- 
wenhoeck  obtained  maggots  from  a  glandular  swelling  on 
the  leg  of  a  woman.  These  he  fed  with  flesh  till  they 
assumed  tlie  pupa  state,  and  afterwards  produced  a  perfect 
insect  as  large  as  a  flesh-fly.  Lempriere,  in  his  work  on 
the  Diseases  of  the  Jlrniy  in  Jamaica,  records  the  case  of 
a  lady,  who,  after  recovering  from  a  dangerous  fever,  died 
a  victim  to  the  maggots  of  a  large  blue  fly,  which  sometimes 
buzzes  about  the  sick  in  the  West  Indies,  and  which,  in 
the  case  alluded  to,  made  their  way  from  the  nose  through 
the  OS  cribrijorine,  and  so  to  the  brain.  A  revolting  in- 
stance of  scholechiasis  is  narrated  in  Bell's  Weekly  Mes- 
senger, as  quoted  by  Messrs.  Kirby  and  Spence.  A  pauper, 
of  the  name  of  Page,  was  in  the  habit  of  secreting  the 
remnants  of  his  food  betwixt  his  shirt  and  skin.  On  one 
occasion,  a  piece  of  flesh  was  so  concealed,  when  the  poor 
man  was  taken  ill  and  laid  himself  down  to  repose  in  a 
field  in  the  parish  of  Scredington.  The  weather  being  hot, 
the  meat  speedily  became  putrescent,  and  was  hloiun  by 
the  flies.  The  maggots,  which  were,  of  course,  hatched 
almost  immediately,  after  devouring  the  meat,  proceeded  to 
prey  upon  the  body  of  the  pauper,  whose  still  living  form, 
when  discovered  by  some  neighbouring  inhabitants,  present- 
ed a  most  appalling  spectacle.  He  was  carried  to  a  surgeon, 
but  died  a  few  hours  after  the  first  dressing  of  his  wounds. 
These,  and  other  similar  cases,  ought  not  to  be  considered 
so  much  in  the  light  of  ordinary  or  natural  effects,  as  the 
result  of  accidents  produced  by  filth  and  disease.  It  is 
otherwise,  however,  with  the  gad-flies,  whose  natural  habit 
appears  to  be  to  deposite  their  eggs  beneath  the  skin,  or 
among  the  hairs  of  quadrupeds,  in  a  healthy  or  unimpaired 
condition.  Although  systematic  authors  have  described  an 
CEstrus  hominis,  said  to  deposite  its  eggs  beneath  the 
skin  of  man,  and  to  produce  ulcers,  which  sometimes  prove 
fatal,  yet  nothing  seems  to  have  been  added  of  late  to  these 
vague  indications,  in  illustration  of  its  real  history. 

The  following  is  an  authentic  instance,  which  lately 
occurred  to  our  knowledge,  and  with  the  pai-ticulars  of 
which  we  were  favoured  by  Dr.  A.  Hill,  of  Greenock. 
George  Killock,  steward  of  the  ship  Cecilia,  while  in  the 
harbour  of  George  Town,  Demerara,  during  the  month  of 
September,  1828,  felt  an  extreme  itching  in  a  spot  situated 
on  the  lower  and  back  part  of  the  right  arm,  which  he 
frequently  rubbed  and  scratched.  The  feeling  was  quite 
different  from  that  caused  by  the  bite  of  the  musquito  or 


sand-fly,  with  which  he  was  sufficiently  familiar.  Ere 
long,  something  like  a  boil  or  indolent  tumour  formed, 
which  occasioned  great  pain,  as  if  a  sharp  instrument  had 
been  thrust  into  the  arm,  or  as  if  suppuration  was  going  on 
at  the  bones.  This  extreme  pain  came  on  periodically  in 
paroxysms,  and  the  arm  was  poulticed  for  a  length  of  time. 
The  swelling  was  not  so  great  as  to  affect  the  movements 
of  the  joint,  and  as  there  was  no  appearance  of  its  coming 
to  a  point,  applications  were  given  up.  One  day,  about 
five  weeks  after  the  commencement  of  the  pain,  Kellock 
observed  some  bloody  matter  on  his  shirt  sleeve,  which  he 
showed  to  the  captain,  when  the  latter  distinctly  perceived 
something  in  motion  in  the  centre  of  a  small  orifice,  which 
had  become  apparent  on  the  tumour.  The  motion  increased, 
till,  to  his  surprise,  the  head  of  an  insect  protruded  itself; 
and  this  it  continued  to  do  daily,  though  the  animal  was 
observed  to  withdraw  into  its  burrow  when  any  one  came 
near,  or  even  pointed  at  it.  The  pain  at  this  time  was  so 
acute  as  to  cause  sickness.  The  chamber  of  the  insect 
seemed  exactly  to  fit  its  body,  and  merely  admitted  of  its 
motions  outwards  and  inwards.  It  occasionally  discharged 
a  quantity  of  blood-coloured  matter.  Many  attempts  were 
made  to  seize  it,  but  it  always  instantly  retreated,  and  the 
captain,  not  knowing  but  that  it  partook  of  the  nature  of 
the  Guinea  worm,  with  which  he  was  well  acquainted,  was 
fearful  of  a  forced  extraction,  lest  it  should  break  asunder, 
and  leave  a  principal  portion  in  the  wound.  However,  it 
was  observed  to  protrude  more  and  more  of  its  body  every 
day,  and,  upon  one  occasion,  it  came  out  to  the  length  of 
more  than  an  inch.  At  last  it  dropt  out  of  its  own  accord 
upon  the  cabin-floor,  with  a  noise  resembling  that  which  a 
pebble  would  make  on  falling  on  the  ground.  It  kept  mo- 
ving and  turning  about  for  some  time,  like  an  earth-worm, 
but,  ere  long,  shrunk  into  nearly  half  its  previous  size.  The 
atmosphere  was  at  this  time  cool,  the  ship  being  within 
a  week's  sail  of  Greenock.  The  insect  lived  for  three  days, 
and  was  then  put  into  spirits,  after  which  it  shrunk  still 
more.  Calculating  from  the  period  at  which  the  itching 
was  first  felt,  it  had  lived  in  Killock's  arm,  in  the  larva 
state,  for  about  six  weeks.  The  wound  healed  readily, 
leaving  externally  the  appearance  of  a  small  scar. 

In  the  12th  edition  of  the  S)/sfe?na  Natitrx,  there  is  no 
mention  of  this  insect.  Gmelin,  however,  says,  that  it 
dwells  beneath  the  skin  of  the  abdomen  six  months,  pene- 
trating deeper  if  it  be  disturbed,  and  becoming  so  dangerous 
as  sometimes  to  occasion  death.  In  Dr.  Turton's  General 
Syste77i  of  Nature,  there  is  the  following  notice  of  this 
insect,  or  of  one  of  which  the  habits  are  similar.  '^CEstrus 
ho7ninis.  Body  entirely  brown.  Inhabits  South  America, 
Linne  ap.  Pall,  No7-d.  Beytr.  p.  157.  Deposites  its  eggs 
under  the  skin,  on  the  bellies  of  the  natives;  the  larva,  if 


80  THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 

it  be  disturbed,  penetrates  deeper,  and  produces  an  ulcer  sleeve  of  a  pedestrian,  works  its  way  in  a  direction  oppo- 

which  frequently  becomes  fatal."  site  to  that  to  which  its  beard  is  directed. 

We  are  informed  that  Killock,   previous  to  this  attack, 

while  at  work,   usually  wore  his  shirt-sleeves  rolled  up  As  further  testimony  to  the  above,  the  following  is  copied 

above  his  elbows;  and  that,  while  in  George  Town,  Deme-  J°™  the  Journal  of  the  Academy  of  Natural  Sciences  of 

rara,  he  generally  slept  on  deck.     It  is  easy  then  to  sup-  Philadelphia,  being  an  extract  of  a  letter  from  a  genUeman 

pose,  that  the  (Estrus,  or  parent  fly,  had  availed  itself  of  a  f™"^  ^^^ose  leg  this  larva  was  extracted, 

proper  opportunitj'  to  deposite  its  egg  upon  his  arm,  proba-  '« After  a  very  sultry  day's  march,  and  being  very  much 

blj-  by  a  slight  puncture  of  the  skin,  by  means  of  the  ovi-  fatigued,  I  went  to  bathe  in  the  Chama,  a  small  stream 

positor  with  which  it  is  furnished.     When  the  larva  had  emptying   in  the  lagoon  of  Maracaibo.     Not   long  after 

attained  its  full  size,  it  dropped  out,  instinctively  searching  coming  out  of  the  water,  I  received  a  sting  from  some  insect, 

for  a  covering  of  natural  earth,  in  which  to  undergo  the  in  the  left  leg,  over  the  upper  and  forepart  of  the  tibia;  it 

intermediate  state  of  pupa,  which  it  is  destined  to  assume  was  several  days  attended  with  a  considerable  degree  of 

for  a  time  before  it  becomes  a  winged  insect.    The  instinct  itching,    but  without  any  pain,   and  I   continued  on  my 

of  the  parent,  however  admirable  under  ordinary  circum-  journey  some  few  days  longer,  without  experiencing  much 

stances,  was,  of  course,  insufficient  to  provide  against  the  inconvenience,   except  during  several  periods  of  perhaps 

accident  of  Killock's  being  a  seafaring  man,— and  the  larva  two  or  three  minutes  continuance,  when  an  acute  pain  came 

could  not  have  attained  the  perfect  state,  for  want  of  the  on  suddenly,  and  was  severe  whilst  it  continued,  and  then 


proper  nidus  in  which  the  pupa  is  accustomed  to  repose. 
Had  a  flower-pot,  containing  earth,  been  on  board  the  ves- 
sel, the  different  changes  of  the  insect  might  have  been 
observed,  and  our  knowledge  of  the  species  completed.  As 
it  is,  we  are  acquainted  with  the  larva  alone.  Its  descrip- 
tion is  as  follows: — 

Length,  in  its  present  shrivelled  condition,  seven-tenths 


as  suddenly  subsided.  On  my  arrival  and  during  my  con- 
tinuance at  II  Rosario  de  Cucuta,  I  walked  witli  difficulty; 
there  was  a  considerable  tumefaction  over  the  tibia,  which 
had  the  appearance  of  an  oi'dinary  bile,  (Phlegmon)  in  the 
centre  there  was  a  small  black  speck;  the  usual  applications 
were  used  without  any  success,  and  the  tumour  became 
more  irritated  and  inflamed,  and  thus  it  remained  for  some 


of  an  inch;  circumference  round  the  centre,   or  thickest  days,  attended  at  times  with  a  most  acute  pain,  which,  for 

part,  one  inch;  colour  pale  dingy  apple-green,  tinged  with  a  few  minutes  was  almost  intolerable. 
brown.     The  mouth  appears  to  have  been  somewhat  tubu-         "  In  returning  to  JNIaracaibo,  I  had  to  descend  the  Cotta- 

lar,  but  is  furnished  on  its  upper  part  with  a  pair  of  sharp,  tumba  in  an  open  boat,  without  any  shelter,  and  being  wet 

minute,  hooked  crotchets,  of  a  shining  black  colour,  pro-  to  the  skin  by  the  cold  rains  which  fell  every  night,  I  suf- 

bably  for  the  purpose  of  adhering  more  firmly  to  the  spot  fered  much,  and  was  almost  constantly  tormented  by  the 

from  which  it  was  desirous  to  draw  its  food.     The  eyes  tumour,  which  became  more  painful  at  those  particular  pe- 

are  large  and  prominent;  their  colour  brown.    The  body  is  riods  than  usual;  during  this  passage,  which  lasted  for  twelve 

composed  of  nine  rings  or  segments,  exclusive  of  the  head  days,   I  was  induced  to  scarify  it,  and  had  recourse  to  the 

and  anal  portion.    There  are  thus,  in  all,  eleven  segments,  usual  topical  applications,  but  without  success.     At  times  I 

besides  the  mouth,  the  exact  number  of  which  the  larvje  of  imagined  that  I  felt  something  moving,  and  suspected  that 

the  European  species  consist.     There  are  no  feet.     These  there  was  something  alive  beneath  the  skin, 
organs  are,  however,  obviously  supplied  by  transverse  cir-         «  After  my  return  to  Maracaibo  I  became  scarcely  able 

cles  of  small  black  spines  or  hooks,  with  which  the  princi-  to  walk,  and  was  in  a  manner  confined  to  my  quarters.    In 

pal  segments  of  the  body  are  furnished;  and,  besides  these,  this  situation  I  continued  two  weeks  longer,  the  tumour 

there  are  several  rounded  unequal  protuberances  on  the  back  having  began  to  discharge,  and  without  any  diminution  of 

and  sides.      The  latter  are  possibly  produced  or  rendered  the  painful  periods. 

more  apparent,  by  the  decrease  of  size  which  has  taken         « Being  now  nearly  worried  out,  it  occurred  to  me  to 

place.     Supposing  these  minute  spinous  hooks  to  be,  along  try  a  poultice  of  tobacco,  which  was  used  for  several  nights, 

with  the  skin,  under  the  control  of  muscular  action,   (and  having  previously  scarified  the  tumour;  during  the  day,  I 

Lyonnet  has  beautifully  exhibited  the  complicated  muscular  frequently  dusted  it  with  ashes  of  segars:  as  an  ingredient, 

structure  of  another  larva,)  then,  according  to  the  direction  I  used  rum  instead  of  water,  in  making  the  poultice.      On 

in  which  the  hooks  are  pointed,  a  wriggling  motion  would  the  fourth  morning  after  this  remedy,   I  felt  considerable 

produce  either  outward  or  inward  progression,  and  serve  relief,  and  on  the  fifth,  with  a  forceps,  I  drew  out  the  worm 

all  the  purposes  of  locomotive  organs,  just  as  (to  use  a  which  you  have  now  in  your  possession,  and  which  was 

familiar  illustration)  an  ear  of  barley  placed  within  the  then  dead. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


81 


'<  In  a  few  days  the  sore  assumed  a  healthy  look,  and  in 
ten  days  was  perfectly  healed  up — although,  at  times,  I 
yet  experience  a  heavy  pain  in  the  part  from  whence  the 
worm  has  been  taken.  It  had  travelled  on  the  periosteum, 
along  the  tibia  for  at  least  two  inches.  The  severe  pain 
which  I  experienced  for  those  periods,  I  attribute  to  the 
irritation  of  some  of  the  branches  of  the  nerves  distributed 
to  the  parts  by  the  worm  in  its  progress.  Respecting  this 
worm  there  are  diflerent  opinions  among  the  Spaniards  and 
Creoles.  Ouche  is  the  name  it  is  called  by  some,  who  say 
it  is  produced  by  a  worm  which  crawls  on  the  body,  from 
the  ground,  and  penetrating  the  skin,  increases  in  size. 
Others  maintain  that  they  are  produced  from  the  sting  of  a 
winged  insect  which  they  call  Zancudo,  others  call  the 
insect  Husano;  for  my  part  I  am  rather  inclined  to  think 
that  they  are  produced  from  the  sting  of  a  winged  insect 
which  deposites  its  egg." 

Larva  of  OEslrus  Hominis. 


THE  VOICES  OF  BIRDS. 

RiTRAx  sounds,  the  voices,  the  language  of  the  wild  crea- 
tures, as  heard  by  the  naturalist,  belong  to,  and  are  in 
concord  with  the  country  only.  Our  sight,  our  smell,  may 
perhaps  be  deceived  for  an  interval  by  conservatories,  hor- 
ticultural arts,  and  bowers  of  sweets;  but  our  hearing  can 
in  no  way  be  beguiled  by  any  semblance  of  what  is  heard 
in  the  grove  or  the  field.  The  hum,  the  murmur,  the 
medley  of  the  mead,  is  peculiarly  its  own,  admits  of  no 
imitation,  and  the  voices  of  our  birds  convey  particular 
intimation,  and  distinctly  notify  the  various  periods  of  the 
year,  with  an  accuracy  as  certain  as  they  are  detailed  in  our 
calendars.  The  season  of  spring  is  always  announced  as 
approaching  by  the  notes  of  the  rookery,  by  the  jangle  or 
wooing  accents  of  the  dark  frequenters  of  its  trees;  and 
that  time  having  passed  away,  these  contentions  and  ca- 
dences are  no  longer  heard.  The  cuckoo  then  comes,  and 
informs  us  that  spring  has  arrived;  that  he  has  journeyed 
to  us,  borne  by  gentle  gales  in  sunny  days;  that  fragrant 
flowers  are  in  the  copse  and  the  mead,  and  all  things  telling 
of  gratulation  and  of  joy:  the  children  mark  this  well- 
known  sound,  spring  out,  and  cuckoo!  cuckoo!  as  they 
gambol  down  the  lane:  the  very  plough-boy  bids  him  wel- 
come in  the  early  morn.  It  is  hardly  spring  without  the 
cuckoo's  song;  and  having  told  his  tale,  he  has  voice  for 
X 


no  more — is  silent  or  away.  Then  comes  the  dark,  swift- 
winged  martin,  glancing  through  the  air,  that  seems  afraid 
to  visit  our  uncertain  clime:  he  comes,  though  late,  and 
hurries  through  his  business  here,  eager  again  to  depart, 
all  day  long  in  agitation  and  precipitate  flight.  The  bland 
zephyrs  of  the  spring  have  no  charms  with  them;  but  bask- 
ing and  careering  in  the  sultry  gleams  of  June  and  July, 
they  associate  in  throngs,  and,  screaming,  dash  round  the 
steeple  or  the  ruined  tower,  to  serenade  their  nesting  mates; 
and  glare  and  heat  are  in  their  train.  When  the  fervour  of 
summer  ceases,  this  bird  of  the  sun  will  depart.  The  even- 
ing robin,  from  the  summit  of  some  leafless  bough,  or  pro- 
jecting point,  tells  us  that  autumn  is  come,  and  brings 
matured  fruits,  chilly  airs,  and  sober  hours,  and  he,  the 
lonely  minstrel  now  that  sings,  is  understood  by  all.  These 
four  birds  thus  indicate  a  separate  season,  have  no  interfe- 
rence with  the  intelligence  of  the  other,  nor  could  they  be 
transposed  without  the  loss  of  all  the  meaning  they  convey, 
which  no  contrivance  of  art  could  supply;  and,  by  long 
association,  they  have  become  identified  with  the  period, 
and  in  peculiar  accordance  with  the  time. 

We  note  birds  in  general  more  from  their  voices  than 
their  plumage;  for  the  carols  of  spring  may  be  heard  in- 
voluntarily, but  to  observe  the  form  and  decoration  of  these 
creatures,  requires  an  attention  not  always  given.  Yet  we 
have  some  native  birds  beautifully  and  conspicuously  fea- 
thered; the  goldfinch,  the  chaffinch,  the  wagtails,  are  all 
eminently  adorned,  and  the  fine  gradations  of  sober  browns 
in  several  others,  are  very  pleasing.  Those  sweet  sounds, 
called  the  song  of  birds,  proceed  only  from  the  male;  and, 
with  a  few  exceptions,  only  during  the  season  of  incuba- 
tion. Hence  the  comparative  quietness  of  our  summer 
months,  when  this  care  is  over,  except  from  accidental 
causes,  where  a  second  nest  is  formed;  few  of  our  birds 
bringing  up  more  than  one  brood  in  the  season.  The  red- 
breast, blackbird,  and  thrush,  in  mild  winters,  may  conti- 
nually be  heard,  and  form  exceptions  to  the  general 
procedure  of  our  British  birds;  and  we  have  one  little 
bird,  the  woodlark,  (alauda  arborea)  that,  in  the  early  parts 
of  the  autumnal  months  delights  us  with  its  harmony,  and 
its  carols  may  be  heard  in  the  air  commonly  during  the 
calm  sunny  mornings  of  this  season.  Thej'  have  a  softness 
and  quietness,  perfectly  in  unison  with  the  sober,  almost 
melancholy,  stillness  of  the  hour.  The  skylark,  also,  sings 
now,  and  its  song  is  very  sweet,  full  of  harmony,  cheerful 
as  the  blue  sky  and  gladdening  beam  in  which  it  circles 
and  sports,  and  known  and  admired  by  all;  but  the  voice 
of  the  woodlark  is  local,  not  so  generally  heard,  from  its 
softness  must  almost  be  listened  for,  to  be  distinguished, 
and  has  not  any  pretensions  to  the  hilarity  of  the  former. 
This  little  bird  sings  likewise  in  the  spring;  but,  at  that 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


season,  the  contending  songsters  of  the  grove,  and  the  va- 
riety of  sound  proceeding  from  every  thing  that  has  utter- 
ance, confuse  and  almost  render  inaudible  the  placid  voice 
of  the  woodlark.  It  delights  to  fix  its  residence  near  little 
groves  and  copses,  or  quiet  pastures,  and  is  a  very  unob- 
trusive bird,  not  uniting  in  companies,  but  associating  in 
its  own  little  family  parties  only,  feeding  in  the  woodlands 
on  seeds  and  insects.  Upon  the  approach  of  man,  it  crouches 
close  to  the  ground,  then  suddenly  darts  away,  as  if  for  a 
distant  flight,  but  settles  again  almost  immediately.  This 
lark  will  often  continue  its  song,  circle  in  the  air,  a  scarcely 
visible  speck,  by  the  hour  together;  and  the  vast  distance 
from  which  its  voice  reaches  us  in  a  calm  day,  is  almost 
incredible.  In  the  scale  of  comparison,  it  stands  imme- 
diately below  the  nightingale  in  melody  and  plaintiveness; 
but  compass  of  voice  is  given  to  the  linnet,  a  bird  of  very 
inferior  powers.  The  strength  of  the  larynx  and  of  the 
muscles  of  the  throat  in  birds,  is  infinitely  greater  than  in 
the  human  race.  The  loudest  shout  of  the  peasant  is  but  a 
feeble  cry,  compared  with  that  of  the  golden-eyed  duck, 
the  wild  goose,  or  even  this  lark.  The  sweet  song  of  this 
poor  little  bird,  with  a  fate  like  that  of  the  nightingale, 
renders  it  an  object  of  capture  and  confinement,  which  few 
of  them  comparatively  survive.  I  have  known  our  country 
birdcatchers  take  them  by  a  very  simple  but  effectual  me- 
thod. Watching  them  to  the  ground,  the  wings  of  a  hawk, 
or  of  the  brown  owl,  stretched  out,  are  drawn  against  the 
current  of  air  by  a  string,  as  a  paper  kite,  and  made  to 
flutter  and  vibrate  like  a  kestrel,  over  the  place  where 
the  woodlark  has  lodged;  which  so  intimidates  the  bird, 
that  it  remains  crouchmg,  and  motionless  as  a  stone,  on 
the  ground ;  a  hand-net  is  brought  over  it,  and  it  is 
caught. 

From  various  little  scraps  of  intelligence  scattered 
through  the  sacred  and  ancient  writings,  it  appears  certain, 
as  it  was  reasonable  to  conclude,  that  the  notes  now  used 
by  birds,  and  the  voices  of  animals,  are  the  same  as  uttered 
by  their  earliest  progenitors.  The  language  of  man,  with- 
out any  reference  to  the  confusion  accomplished  at  Babel, 
has  been  broken  into  innumerable  dialects,  created  or  com- 
pounded as  his  wants  occurred,  or  his  ideas  prompted;  or 
obtained  by  intercourse  with  others,  as  mental  enlargement 
or  novelty  necessitated  new  words  to  express  new  senti- 
ments. Could  we  find  a  people  from  Japan  or  the  Pole, 
whose  progress  in  mind  has  been  stationary,  without  in- 
crease of  idea,  from  national  prejudice  or  impossibility  of 
communication  with  others,  we  probably  should  find  little 
or  no  alteration  in  the  original  language  of  that  people;  so, 
by  analogy  of  reasoning,  the  animal,  having  no  idea  to 
prompt,  no  new  want  to  express,  no  converse  with  others, 
(for  a  note  caught  and  uttered  merely,  is  like  a  boy  mock- 


ing the  cuckoo,)  so  no  new  language  is  acquired.     With 
civilized  man,  every  thing  is  progressive;  with  animals, 
where  there  is  no  mind,  all  is  stationary.     Even  the  voice 
of  one  species  of  birds,  except  in  particular  cases,   seems 
not  to  be  attended  to  by  another  species.      That  peculiar 
call  of  the  female  cuckoo,   which  assembles  so  many  con- 
tending lovers,  and  all  the  various  amatorial  and  caressing 
language  of  others,   excites  no  influence  generally,  that  I 
am  aware  of;  with  all  but  the  individual  species,  it  is  a 
dialect  unknown.     I  know  but  one  note,  which  animals 
make  use  of,   that  seems  of  universal  comprehension,  and 
this  is  the  signal  of  danger.      The  instant  that  it  is  uttered, 
we  hear  the  whole  flock,  though  composed  of  various  spe- 
cies, repeat  a  separate  moan,  and  away  they  all  scuttle  into 
the  bushes  for  safety.     The  reiterated  "  twink,  twink"  of 
the  chaffinch,  is  known  by  every  little  bird,  as  information 
of  some  prowling  cat  or  weasel.      Some  give  the  maternal 
hush  to  their  young,  and  mount  to  inquire  into  the  jeopardy 
announced.     The  wren,  that  tells  of  perils  from  the  hedge, 
soon  collects  about  her  all  the  various  inquisitive  species 
within  hearing,  to  survey  and  ascertain  the  object,  and  add 
their  separate  fears.     The  swallow,  that  shrieking  darts  in 
devious  flight  through  the  air,  when  a  hawk  appears,  not 
only  calls  up  all  the  hirundines  of  the  village,  but  is  instantly 
understood  by  every  finch  and  sparrow,  and  its  warning 
attended  to.     As  nature,  in  all  her  ordinations,  had  a  fixed 
design  and  foreknowledge,  it  may  be  that  each  species  had 
a  separate  voice  assigned  it,  that  each  might  continue  as 
created,  distinct  and  unmixed:  and  the  very  few  deviations 
and  admixtures  that  have  taken  place,  considering  the  lapse 
of  time,  association,  and  opportunity,  united  with  the  pro- 
hibition  of    continuing  accidental    deviations,    are   very 
remarkable,    and   indicate   a   cause  and   original    motive. 
That  some  of  the  notes  of  birds  are,  as  language,  designed 
to  convey  a  meaning,  is  obvious,  from  the  very  different 
sounds  uttered  by  these  creatures  at  particular  periods:  the 
spring  voices  become  changed  as  summer  advances,  and 
the  acquirements  of  the  early  season  have  ceased;  the  sum- 
mer excitements,  monitions,  informations,  are  not  needed 
in  autumn,  and  the  notes  conveying  such  intelligences  are 
no  longer  heard.    The  periodical  calls  of  animals,  croaking 
of  frogs,  &c.   afford  the  same  reasons  for  concluding  that 
the  sound  of  their  voices  by  elevation,  depression,  or  mo- 
dulation,   conveys   intelligence   equivalent   to   an  uttered 
sentence.     The  voices  of  birds  seem  applicable  in  most 
instances  to  the  immediate  necessities  of  their  condition; 
such  as  the  sexual  call,  the  invitation  to  unite  when  dis- 
persed, the  moan  of  danger,  the  shriek  of  alarm,  the  notice 
of  food.   But  there  are  other  notes,  the  designs  and  motives 
of  which  are  not  so  obvious.      One  sex  only  is  gifted  with 
the  power  of  singing,  for  the  purpose,  as  Buffbn  supposed, 


A^fD  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


of  cheering  his  mate  during  the  period  of  incubation;  but 
this  idea,  gallant  as  it  is,  has  such  slight  foundation  in 
probability,  that  it  needs  no  confutation:  and,  after  all, 
perhaps,  we  must  conclude,  that,  listened  to,  admired,  and 
pleasing,  as  the  voices  of  many  birds  are,  either  for  their 
intrinsic  melody,  or  from  association,  we  are  uncertain  what 
they  express,  or  the  object  of  their  song.  The  singing  of 
most  birds  seems  entirely  a  spontaneous  effusion  produced 
by  no  exertion,  or  occasioning  no  lassitude  in  muscle,  or 
relaxation  of  the  parts  of  action.  In  certain  seasons  and 
weather,  the  nightingale  sings  all  day,  and  most  part  of  the 
night;  and  we  never  observe  that  tlie  powers  of  song  are 
weaker,  or  that  the  notes  become  harsh  and  untunable, 
after  all  these  hours  of  practice.  The  song-thrush,  in  a 
mild  moist  April,  will  commence  his  tune  early  in  the 
morning,  pipe  unceasingly  through  the  day,  yet,  at  the 
close  of  eve,  when  he  retires  to  rest,  there  is  no  obvious 
decay  of  his  musical  powers,  or  any  sensible  effort  required 
to  continue  his  harmony  to  the  last.  Birds  of  one  species 
sing,  in  general,  very  like  each  other,  with  different  degrees 
of  execution.  Some  counties  may  produce  finer  songsters, 
but  without  great  variation  in  the  notes.  In  the  thrush, 
however,  it  is  remarkable,  that  there  seems  to  be  no  regu- 
lar notes,  each  individual  piping  a  voluntary  of  his  own. 
Their  voices  may  always  be  distinguished  amid  the  choris- 
ters of  the  copse,  yet  some  one  performer  will  more  particu- 
larly engage  attention  by  a  peculiar  modulation  or  tune;  and 
should  several  stations  of  these  birds  be  visited  in  the  same 
morning,  few  or  none  probably  will  be  found  to  preserve 
the  same  round  of  notes;  whatever  is  uttered,  seeming  the 
effusion  of  the  moment.  At  times  a  strain  will  break  out 
perfectly  unlike  any  preceding  utterance,  and  we  may  wait 
a  long  time  without  noticing  any  repetition  of  it.  During 
one  spring,  an  individual  song-thrush,  frequenting  a  favour- 
ite copse,  after  a  certain  round  of  tune,  trilled  out  most 
regularly,  some  notes  that  conve3red  so  clearly  the  words, 
lady-bird!  lady-bird!  that  every  one  remarked  the  resem- 
blance. He  survived  the  winter,  and  in  the  ensuing  season 
the  lady-bird !  lady-bird !  was  still  the  burden  of  our  even- 
ing song;  it  then  ceased,  and  we  never  heard  this  pretty 
modulation  more.  Though  merely  an  occasional  strain, 
yet  I  have  noticed  it  elsewhere — it  thus  appearing  to  be  a 
favourite  utterance.  Harsh,  strained,  and  tense,  as  the 
notes  of  this  bird  are,  yet  they  are  pleasing  from  their 
variety.  The  voice  of  the  blackbird  is  iniinitely  more 
mellow,  but  has  much  less  variety,  compass,  or  execution; 
and  he,  too,  commences  his  carols  with  the  morning  light, 
persevering  from  hour  to  hour  without  effort,  or  any  sensi- 
ble faltering  of  voice.  The  cuckoo  wearies  us  throughout 
some  long  May  morning,  with  the  unceasing  monotony  of  its 
song;  and,  though  there  are  others  as  vociferous,  yet  it  is  the 


only  bird  I  know  that  seems  to  suffer  from  the  use  of  the 
organs  of  voice.  Little  exertion  as  the  few  notes  it  makes 
use  of,  seem  to  require,  yet,  by  the  middle  or  end  of  June, 
it  loses  its  utterance,  becomes  hoarse,  and  ceases  from  any 
further  essay  of  it.  The  croaking  of  the  nightingale  in 
June,  or  the  end  of  May,  is  not  apparently  occasioned  by 
the  loss  of  voice,  but  a  change  of  note,  a  change  of  object; 
his  song  ceases  when  his  mate  has  hatched  her  brood;  vigi- 
lance, anxiety,  caution,  now  succeed  to  harmony,  and  his 
croak  is  the  hush,  the  warning  of  danger  or  suspicion  to 
the  infant  charge  and  the  mother  bird. 

But  here  I  must  close  my  notes  of  birds,  lest  their  actions 
and  their  ways,  so  various  and  so  pleasing,  should  lure  me 
on  to  protract 

"  My  tedious  tale  through  many  a  page;" 

for  I  have  always  been  an  admirer  of  these  elegant  crea- 
tures, their  notes,  their  nests,  their  eggs,  and  all  the  eco- 
nomy of  their  lives;  nor  have  we  throughout  the  orders  of 
creation,  any  beings  that  so  continually  engage  our  atten- 
tion as  these  our  feathered  companions.  Winter  takes  from 
us  all  the  gay  world  of  the  meads,  the  sylphs  that  hover 
over  our  flowers,  that  steal  our  sweets,  that  creep,  or 
gently  wing  their  way  in  glittering  splendour  around  us; 
and  of  all  the  miraculous  creatures  that  sported  their  hour 
in  the  sunny  beam,  the  winter  gnat  alone  remains  to 
frolic  in  some  rare  and  partial  gleam.  The  myriads  of 
the  pool  are  dormant,  or  hidden  from  our  sight;  the  quad- 
rupeds, few  and  wary,  veil  their  actions  in  the  glooms  of 
night,  and  we  see  little  of  them;  but  birds  are  with  us 
always,  they  give  a  character  to  spring,  and  are  identified 
with  it;  they  enchant  and  amuse  us  all  summer  long  with 
their  sports,  animation,  hilarity  and  glee;  they  cluster 
round  us,  suppliant  in  the  winter  of  our  year,  and,  unre- 
pining  through  cold  and  want,  seek  their  scanty  meal 
amidst  the  refuse  of  the  barn,  the  stalls  of  the  cattle,  or  at 
the  doors  of  our  house;  or,  flitting  hungry  from  one  de- 
nuded and  bare  spray  to  another,  excite  our  pity  and 
regard;  their  lives  are  patterns  of  gaiety,  cleanliness,  ala- 
crity, and  joy. — Jour,  of  a  Naturalist. 


ANTS  AND  ANT-BEARS 

OF  SOUTH  AMERICA. 

In  the  far-extending  wilds  of  Guiana,  the  traveller  will 
be  astonished  at  the  immense  quantity  of  Ants  which  he 
perceives  on  the  ground  and  in  the  trees.  They  have  nests 
in  the  branches,  four  or  five  times  as  large  as  that  of  the 
rook;  and  they  have  a  covered  way  from  them  to  the 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


ground.  In  this  covered  way  thousands  are  perpetually- 
passing  and  repassing;  and  if  you  destroy  part  of  it,  they 
turn  to,  and  immediately  repair  it. 

Other  species  of  Ants  again  have  no  covered  way;  but 
travel,  exposed  to  view,  upon  the  surface  of  the  earth. 
You  will  sometimes  see  a  string  of  these  Ants  a  mile  long, 
each  carrying  in  its  mouth  to  its  nest  a  green  leaf,  the  size 
of  a  sixpence.  It  is  wonderful  to  observe  the  order  in  which 
they  move,  and  with  what  pains  and  labour  they  surmount 
the  obstructions  of  the  path. 

The  Ants  have  their  enemies,  as  well  as  the  rest  of  ani- 
mated nature.  Amongst  the  foremost  of  these  stand  the 
three  species  of  Ant-bears.  The  smallest  is  not  much  larger 
than  a  rat;  the  next  is  nearly  the  size  of  a  fox;  and  the 
third  a  stout  and  powerful  animal,  measuring  above  six 
feet  from  the  snout  to  the  end  of  the  tail.  He  is  the  most 
inoffensive  of  all  animals,  and  never  injures  the  property 
of  man.  He  is  chiefly  found  in  the  inmost  recesses  of  the 
forest,  and  seems  partial  to  the  low  and  swampy  parts  near 
creeks,  where  the  Troely  tree  grows.  There  he  goes  up 
and  down  in  quest  of  Ants,  of  which  there  is  never  the 
least  scarcity;  so  that  he  soon  obtains  a  sufficient  supply  of 
food,  with  very  little  trouble.  He  cannot  travel  fast;  man 
is  superior  to  him  in  speed.  Without  swiftness  to  enable 
him  to  escape  from  his  enemies,  without  teeth,  the  posses- 
sion of  which  would  assist  him  in  self-defence,  and  without 
the  power  of  burrowing  in  the  ground,  by  which  he  might 
conceal  himself  from  his  pursuers,  he  still  is  capable  of 
ranging  through  these  wilds  in  perfect  safety;  nor  does  he 
fear  the  fatal  pressure  of  the  serpent's  fold,  or  the  teeth  of 
the  famished  Jaguar.  Nature  has  formed  his  fore-legs  won- 
derfully thick,  and  strong,  and  muscular,  and  armed  his 
feet  with  three  tremendous  sharp  and  crooked  claws. 
Whenever  he  seizes  an  animal  with  these  formidable  wea- 
pons, he  hugs  it  close  to  his  body,  and  keeps  it  there  till 
it  dies  through  pressure,  or  through  want  of  food.  Nor 
does  the  Ant-bear,  in  the  mean  time,  suffer  much  from  loss 
of  aliment,  as  it  is  a  well-known  fact,  that  he  can  go 
longer  without  food  than,  perhaps,  any  other  animal,  ex- 
cept the  land  tortoise.  His  skin  is  of  a  texture  that  perfectly 
resists  tlie  bite  of  a  dog;  his  hinder  parts  are  protected  by 
thick  and  shaggy  hair,  while  his  immense  tail  is  large 
enough  to  cover  his  whole  body. 

Examine  a  figure  of  this  animal,  in  books  of  natural  histo- 
ry, or  inspect  a  stuffed  specimen  in  the  best  museums,  and 
you  will  see  that  the  fore-claws  are  just  in  the  same  forward 
attitude,  as  those  of  a  dog,  or  a  common  bear,  when  he 
walks  or  stands.  But  this  is  a  distorted  and  unnatural 
position;  and,  in  life,  would  be  a  painful  and  intolerable 
attitude  for  the  Ant-bear.     The  length  and  curve  of  his 


claws  cannot  admit  of  such  a  position.  When  he  walks  or 
stands,  his  feet  have  somewhat  the  appearance  of  a  club- 
hand. He  goes  entirely  on  the  outer  side  of  his  fore-feet, 
which  are  quite  bent  inwards;  the  claws  collected  into  a 
point,  and  going  under  the  foot.  In  this  position  he  is 
quite  at  ease;  while  his  long  claws  are  disposed  of  in  a 
manner  to  render  them  harmless  to  him,  and  arc  prevented 
from  becoming  dull  and  worn,  like  those  of  the  dog,  which 
would  inevitably  be  the  case,  did  their  points  come  in  ac- 
tual contact  with  the  ground;  for  his  claws  have  not  that 
retractile  power  which  is  given  to  animals  of  the  feline 
species,  by  which  they  are  enabled  to  preserve  the  sharp- 
ness of  their  claws  on  the  most  flinty  path.  A  slight  in- 
spection of  the  fore-feet  of  the  Ant-bear,  will  immediately 
convince  you  of  the  mistake  artists  and  naturalists  have 
fallen  into,  by  putting  his  fore-feet  in  the  same  position  as 
that  of  other  quadrupeds;  for  you  will  perceive  that  the 
whole  outer  side  of  his  foot  is  not  only  deprived  of 
hair,  but  is  hard  and  callous;  proof  positive  of  its  being 
in  perpetual  contact  with  the  ground.  Now,  on  the  con- 
trary, the  inner  side  of  the  bottom  of  his  foot  is  soft  and 
rather  hairy. 

There  is  another  singularity  in  the  anatomy  of  the  Ant- 
bear,  I  believe,  as  yet  unnoticed  in  the  page  of  natural 
history.  He  has  two  very  large  glands  situated  below  the 
root  of  the  tongue.  From  these  is  emitted  a  glutinous 
liquid,  with  which  his  long  tongue  is  lubricated  when  he 
puts  into  the  ants'  nests.  These  glands  are  of  the  same 
substance  as  those  found  in  the  lower  jaw  of  the  wood- 
pecker. The  secretion  from  them,  when  wet,  is  very 
clammy  and  adhesive,  but,  on  being  dried,  it  loses  these 
qualities,  and  you  can  pulverize  it  betwixt  your  finger  and 
thumb;  so  that,  in  dissection,  if  any  of  it  has  got  upon  the 
fur  of  the  animal,  or  the  feathers  of  the  bird,  allow  it  to 
dry  there,  and  then  it  may  be  removed  without  leaving 
the  least  stain  behind. 

The  Ant-bear  is  a  pacific  animal.  He  is  never  the  first 
to  begin  the  attack.  His  motto  maybe,  "Noli  me  tan- 
gere."  As  his  habits  and  his  haunts  differ  materially  from 
those  of  every  other  animal  in  the  forest,  their  interests 
never  clash,  and  thus  he  might  live  to  a  good  old  age,  and 
die  at  last  in  peace,  were  it  not  that  his  flesh  is  good  food. 
On  this  account,  the  Indian  wages  perpetual  war  against 
him,  and  as  he  cannot  escape  by  flight,  he  falls  an  easy 
prey  to  the  poisoned  arrow,  shot  from  the  Indian's  bow  at 
a  distance.  If  ever  he  be  closely  attacked  by  dogs,  he 
immediately  throws  himself  on  his  back,  and  if  he  be  for- 
tunate enough  to  catch  hold  of  his  enemy  with  his  tremen- 
dous claws,  the  invader  is  sure  to  pay  for  his  rashness 
with  the  loss  of  life.  —  fVaterton. 


4 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


MEADOW  LARK. 


may  be  found  in  market.  They  are  generally  considered, 
for  size  and  delicacy,  little  inferior  to  the  quail,  or  what 
is  here  usually  called  the  partridge,  and  valued  accord- 
ingly. I  once  met  with  a  few  of  these  birds  in  the  month 
of  February,  during  a  deep  snow,  among  the  heights  of 
the  Alleghany,  between  Shippensburgh  and  Somerset, 
gleaning  on  the  road,  in  company  with  the  small  snow- 
birds. In  the  States  of  South  Carolina  and  Georgia,  at  the 
same  season  of  the  year,  they  swarm  among  the  rice  plan- 
tations, running  about  the  yards  and  out-houses,  accompa- 
nied by  the  Kildeers,  with  little  appearance  of  fear,  as  if 
quite  domesticated. 

These  birds,  after  the  building  season  is  over,  collect  in 
flocks;  but  seldom  fly  in  a  close  compact  body;  their  flight 
is  something  in  the  manner  of  the  grouse  and  partridge, 
laborious  and  steady;  sailing,  and  renewing  the  rapid  action 
of  the  wings  alternately.  When  they  alight  on  trees  or 
bushes,  it  is  generally  on  the  tops  of  the  highest  branches, 
whence  they  send  forth  a  long,  clear,  and  somewhat  melan- 
choly note,  that,  in  sweetness  and  tenderness  of  expression, 
is  not  surpassed  by  any  of  our  numerous  warblers.  This 
is  sometimes  followed  by  a  kind  of  low,  rapid  chattering,  the 
particular  call  of  the  female;  and  again  the  clear  and  plaintive 


JILJIUBA    MAGNA. 

[Plate  VIII.— Winter  Plumage.] 

Linn.  Syst.  2S9.— Crescent  Stare,  Arct.  Zool.  330.  No. 
192. — Latham,  hi.  6.  Var.  A. — Le  Fer-a-cheval,  ou 
Merle  a  Collier  d' Amerique,  Buff.  hi.  p.  371. — 
Catesb.  Car.  i.  pi.  33. — Bartram,  p.  290. — Alauda 
magna,  Linn.  Syst.  i.  p.  167.  Ed.  10. — Gmel.  Syst. 

I.  p.  801. — Merula  Americana  torquata,  Briss.  Av. 

II.  p.  242.  No.  15. — (Summer  dress.)  Sturnus  ludo- 
vicianus,  Linn.  Syst.  i.  p.  290. — Gmel.  Syst.  i.  p. 
802. — Brisson,  II.  p.  449.  4.  /.  42.  /  1. — Lath.  Ind. 
Orn.  I.  323. — Etoiirneau  de  la  Louisiane. — Buff.  hi. 

p.  192. — PI.  Enl.  256. — J.  Doughty's  Collection. 

Though  this  well-known  species  cannot  boast  of  the 
powers  of  song  which  distinguish  that  "  harbinger  of  day," 
the  Sky  Lark  of  Europe,  yet  in  richness  of  plumage,  as 
well  as  in  sweetness  of  voice  (as  far  as  his  few  notes  ex- 
tend), he  stands  eminently  its  superior.  He  differs  from 
the  greater  part  of  his  tribe  in  wanting  the  long  straight  strain  is  repeated  as  before.  They  afford  tolerable  good 
hind  claw,  which  is  probably  the  reason  why  he  has  been  amusement  to  the  sportsman,  being  most  easily  shot  while 
classed,  by  some  late  naturalists,  with  the  Starlings.  But  on  wing;  as  they  frequently  squat  among  the  long  grass, 
in  the  particular  form  of  his  bill,  in  his  manners,  plumage,  and  spring  within  gunshot.  The  nest  of  this  species  is  built 
mode  and  place  of  building  his  nest,  nature  has  clearly  generally  in,  or  below,  a  thick  tuft  or  tussock  of  grass;  it 
pointed  out  his  proper  family.  is  composed  of  dry  grass,  and  fine  bent  laid  at  bottom,  and 

v^'ound  all  around,  leaving  an  arched  entrance  level  with 
the  ground ;  the  inside  is  lined  with  fine  stalks  of  the  same 
materials,  disposed  with  great  regularity.  The  eggs  are 
four,  sometimes  five,  white,  marked  with  specks,  and  seve- 
ral large  blotches  of  reddish  brown,  chiefly  at  the  thick 
end.  Their  food  consists  of  caterpillars,  grub  worms, 
beetles,  and  grass  seeds;  with  a  considerable  proportion  of 
gravel.  Their  general  name  is  the  Meadow  Lark;  among 
feed.  They  are  rarely  or  never  seen  in  the  depth  of  the  the  Virginians  they  are  usually  called  the  Old  Field  Lark. 
woods;  unless  where,  instead  of  underwood,  the  ground  is  The  length  of  this  bird  is  ten  inches  and  a  half,  extent 
covered  with  rich  grass,  as  in  the  Choctaw  and  Chickasaw  sixteen  and  a  half;  throat,  breast,  belly,  and  line  from  the 
countries,  where  I  met  with  them  in  considerable  numbers 
in  the  months  of  May  and  June.  The  extensive  and  luxu- 
riant prairies  between  Vincennes  and  St  Louis  also  abound 
with  them. 

It  is  probable  that  in  the  more  rigorous  regions  of  the 
north  they  may  be  birds  of  passage,  as  they  are  partially  so 
here;  though  I  have  seen  them  among  the  meadows  of  New  each  side  by  a  stripe  of  black  intermixed  with  bay,  and 
Jersey,  and  those  that  border  the  rivers  Delaware  and  another  line  of  yellowish  white  passes  over  each  eye  back- 
Schuylkill,  in  all  seasons;  even  when  the  ground  was  wards;  cheeks  bluish  white,  back  and  rest  of  the  upper 
deeply  covered  with  snow.  There  is  scarcely  a  market  parts  beautifully  variegated  with  black,  bright  bay,  and 
day  in  Philadelphia,  from  September  to  March,  but  thev  pale  ochre:  tail  wedged,  the  feathers  neatly  pointed,  the 
Y 


This  species  has  a  very  extensive  range;  having  myself 
found  them  in  Upper  Canada,  and  in  each  of  the  States  from 
New  Hampshire  to  New  Orleans.  Mr.  Bartram  also  in- 
forms me  that  they  are  equally  abundant  in  East  Florida. 
Their  favourite  places  of  retreat  are  pasture  fields  and 
meadows,  particularly  the  latter,  which  have  conferred  on 
them  their  specific  name;  and  no  doubt  supplies  them  abun- 
dantly with  the  particular  seeds  and  insects  on  which  they 


eye  to  the  nostrils,  rich  yellow;  inside  lining  and  edge  of 
the  wing  the  same;  an  oblong  crescent,  of  deep  velvetty 
black,  ornaments  the  lower  part  of  the  throat;  lesser  wing- 
coverts  black,  broadly  bordered  with  pale  ash;  rest  of  the 
wing  feathers  light  brown,  handsomely  serrated  with  black; 
a  line  of  yellowish  white  divides  the  crown,  bounded  on 


86 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


four  outer  ones  on  each  side,  nearly  all  white;  sides,  thighs, 
and  vent  pale  yellow  ochre,  streaked  with  black;  upper 
mandible  brown,  lower  bluish  white;  eyelids  furnished  with 
strong  black  hairs:  legs  and  feet  very  large,  and  of  a  pale 
flesh  colour. 

The  female  has  the  black  crescent  more  skirted  with 
grey,  and  not  of  so  deep  a  black.  In  the  rest  of  her  mark- 
ings, the  plumage  differs  little  from  that  of  the  male.  I 
must  here  take  notice  of  a  mistake  committed  by  Mr.  Ed- 
wards, in  his  History  of  Birds,  Vol.  VI.  p.  123,  where, 
on  the  authority  of  a  bird  dealer  of  London,  he  describes 
the  Calandre  Lark  (a  native  of  Italy  and  Russia),  as  belong- 
ing also  to  North  America,  and  having  been  brought  from 
Carolina.  I  can  say  with  confidence,  that  in  all  my  excur- 
sions through  that  and  the  rest  of  the  southern  States,  I 
never  met  such  a  bird,  nor  any  person  who  had  ever  seen 
it.  I  have  no  hesitation  in  believing  that  the  Calandre  is 
not  a  native  of  the  United  States. 


SNOW-BIRD. 

FRINGILLA  HUDSONM. 

[Plate  VIIL] 

Fringilla  Hudsonia,  Turton,  Syst.  i.  56S. — Emberiza 
hyemalis,  Id.  531. — Lath.  i.  66. — Catesbv,  i.  36. — 
Jlrct.  Zool.  p.  359,  No.  223. — Passer  nivalis,  Bar- 
tram,  /;.  291. — Fringilla  hyemalis,  Linn.  Syst.  Ed. 
10,  I.  ]}.  183,  30. — J.  Doughty's  Collection. 

This  well-known  species,  small  and  insignificant  as  it 
may  appear,  is  by  far  the  most  numerous,  as  well  as  the 
most  extensively  disseminated,  of  all  the  feathered  tribes 
that  visit  us  from  the  frozen  regions  of  the  north.  Their 
migrations  extending  from  the  arctic  circle,  and  probably 
beyond  it,  to  the  shores  of  the  gulf  of  Mexico,  spreading 
over  the  whole  breadth  of  the  United  States,  from  the 
Atlantic  Ocean  to  Louisiana;  how  much  farther  westward 
I  am  unable  to  say.  About  the  twentieth  of  October,  they 
make  their  first  appearance  in  those  parts  of  Pennsylvania 
east  of  the  Alleghany  mountains.  At  first  they  are  most 
generally  seen  on  the  borders  of  woods,  among  the  falling 
and  decayed  leaves,  in  loose  flocks  of  thirty  or  forty  toge- 
ther, always  taking  to  the  trees  when  disturbed.  As  the 
weather  sets  in  colder,  they  approach  nearer  the  farm-house 
and  villages;  and,  on  the  appearance  of  what  is  usually 
called  falling  weather,  assemble  in  larger  flocks,  and  seem 
doubly  diligent  in  searching  for  food.  This  increased  acti- 
vity is  generally  a  sure  prognostic  of  a  storm.  When  deep 
snow  covers  the  ground,  they  become  "'most  half  domesti- 


cated. They  collect  about  the  barn,  stables,  and  other 
outhouses,  spread  over  the  yard,  and  even  round  the  steps 
of  the  door;  not  only  in  the  country  and  villages,  but  in 
the  heart  of  our  large  cities;  crowding  around  the  threshold 
early  in  the  morning,  gleaning  up  the  crumbs;  appearing 
very  lively  and  familiar.  They  have  also  recourse,  at 
this  severe  season,  when  the  face  of  the  earth  is  shut  up 
from  them,  to  the  seeds  of  many  kinds  of  weeds,  that  still 
rise  above  the  snow,  in  corners  of  fields,  and  low  shel- 
tered situations,  along  the  borders  of  creeks  and  fences, 
where  they  associate  with  several  species  of  Sparrows. 
They  are,  at  this  time,  easily  caught  with  almost  any  kind 
of  traps;  are  generally  fat,  and,  it  is  said,  are  excellent 
eating. 

I  cannot  but  consider  this  bird  as  the  most  numerous  of 
its  tribe  of  any  within  the  United  States.  From  the  north- 
ern parts  of  the  district  of  Maine,  to  the  Ogechee  river  in 
Georgia,  a  distance,  by  the  circuitous  route  in  which  I  tra- 
velled, of  more  than  1800  miles,  I  never  passed  a  day,  and 
scarcely  a  mile,  without  seeing  numbers  of  these  birds,  and 
frequently  large  flocks  of  several  thousands.  Other  tra- 
vellers, with  whom  I  conversed,  who  had  come  from 
Lexington,  in  Kentucky,  through  Virginia,  also  declared 
that  they  found  these  birds  numerous  along  the  whole  road. 
It  should  be  observed,  that  the  road  sides  are  their  favour- 
ite haunts,  where  many  rank  weeds  that  grow  along  the 
fences,  furnish  them  with  food,  and  the  road  with  gravel. 
In  the  vicinity  of  places  where  they  were  most  numerous, 
I  observed  the  small  Hawk,  {Falco  sparverius)  and  seve- 
ral others  of  his  tribe,  watching  their  opportunity,  or 
hovering  cautiously  around,  making  an  occasional  sweep 
among  them,  and  retiring  to  the  bare  branches  of  an  old 
cypress,  to  feed  on  their  victim.  In  the  month  of  April, 
when  the  weather  begins  to  be  warm,  they  are  observed  to 
retreat  to  the  woods;  and  to  prefer  the  shaded  sides  of 
hills  and  thickets;  at  which  time  the  males  warble  out  a 
few  very  low  sweet  notes;  and  are  almost  perpetually  pur- 
suing and  fighting  with  each  other.  About  the  twentieth 
of  April  they  take  their  leave  of  our  humble  regions,  and 
retire  to  the  north,  and  to  the  high  ranges  of  the  Alleghany, 
to  build  their  nests,  and  rear  their  young.  In  some  of  those 
ranges,  in  the  interior  of  Virginia,  and  northward,  about 
the  waters  of  the  west  branch  of  the  Susquehanna,  they 
breed  in  great  numbers.  The  nest  is  fixed  in  the  ground, 
or  among  the  grass,  sometimes  several  being  within  a  small 
distance  of  each  other.  According  to  the  observations  of 
the  gentlemen  residing  at  Hudson's  bay  factory,  they  arrive 
there  about  the  beginning  of  June,  stay  a  week  or  two, 
and  proceed  farther  north  to  breed.  They  return  to  that 
settlement  in  the  autumn  on  their  way  to  the  south. 

In  some  parts  of  New  England  I  found   the  opinion 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


«t 


pretty  general,  that  the  Snow-bird  in  summer  is  transform- 
ed into  the  small  Chipping  Sparrow,  which  we  find  so 
common  in  that  season.  I  had  convinced  a  gentleman  of 
New  York  of  his  mistake  in  this  matter,  by  taking  him  to 
the  house  of  a  Mr.  Gautier,  there,  who  amuses  himself  by 
keeping  a  great  number  of  native  as  well  as  foreign  birds. 
This  was  in  the  month  of  July,  and  the  Snow-bird  appeared 
there  in  the  same  coloured  plumage  he  usually  has.  Several 
individuals  of  the  Chipping  Sparrow  were  also  in  the  same 
apartment.  The  evidence  was  therefore  irresistible;  but  as 
I  had  not  the  same  proofs  to  offer  to  the  eye  in  New  Eng- 
land, I  had  not  the  same  success. 

There  must  be  something  in  the  temperature  of  the  blood 
or  constitution  of  this  bird,  which  unfits  it  for  residing, 
during  summer,  in  the  lower  parts  of  the  United  States;  as 
the  country  here  abounds  with  a  great  variety  of  food,  of 
which,  during  its  stay  here,  it  appears  to  be  remarkably 
fond.    Or,  perhaps,  its  habit  of  associating  in  such  numbers 


to  breed,  and  building  its  nest  with  so  little  precaution, 
may,  to  insure  its  safety,  require  a  solitary  region,  far  from 
the  intruding  footsteps  of  man. 

The  Snow-bird  is  six  inches  long,  and  nine  in  extent, 
the  head,  neck,  and  upper  parts  of  the  breast,  body,  and 
wings,  are  of  a  deep  slate  colour;  the  plumage  sometimes 
skirted  with  brown,  which  is  the  colour  of  the  young  birds; 
the  lower  parts  of  the  breast,  the  whole  belly  and  vent,  are 
pure  white;  the  three  secondary  quill  feathers  next  the  body 
are  edged  with  brown,  the  primaries  with  white;  the  tail 
is  dusky  slate,  a  little  forked,  the  two  exterior  feathers 
wholly  white,  which  are  flirted  out  as  it  flies,  and  appear 
then  very  prominent;  the  bill  and  legs  are  of  a  reddish 
flesh  colour;  the  eye  bluish  black.  The  female  differs 
from  the  male  in  being  considerably  more  brown.  In  the 
depth  of  winter  the  slate  colour  of  the  male  becomes  more 
deep  and  much  purer,  the  brown  disappearing  nearly  alto- 
gether. 


SNIPE  SHOOTING. 

The  season  for  shooting  Snipe,  commences  in  March, 
and  generally  continues  until  the  middle  of  April,  and 
when  the  birds  are  plentiful,  affords  considerable  amuse- 
ment, and  not  a  little  toil,  to  the  sportsman. 

So  soon  as  the  warm  and  genial  influence  of  approaching 
spring,  begins  to  revive  mankind  to  activity,  after  the 
paralizing  effects  of  winter,  then  it  is  that  these  birds  make 
their  appearance  among  us,  while  on  their  journey  to  the 
north;  and,  although  poor  on  their  first  arrival,  soon  become 
fat  by  means  of  the  rich  feeding  grounds,  which  lie  adja- 
cent to  this  city,  and  are  objects  of  eager  pursuit,  both 


by  sportsmen  and  market  dealers.  The  shooting  campalgi, 
for  the  current  year,  opens  on  this  species  of  game,  and 
new  zest  being  given  for  this  favourite  amusement,  by  the 
idleness  of  winter,  multitudes  of  shooters  are  ready  to  take 
the  field,  in  a  general  war  of  extermination,  against  these 
innocent  visitants,  so  soon  as  their  approach  is  known.  On 
all  the  low  grounds,  which  border  the  rivers  Delaware  and 
Schuylkill,  may  be  seen,  gunners  of  every  age  and  class, 
armed  with  the  unwieldy,  rusty  musket,  to  the  superb 
double  percussion  gun,  some  for  the  recreative  pleasure 
which  the  exercise  produces,  others  as  a  source  of  profit; 
and  again,  those,  who  wish  to  while  away  the  tedium  of 
an  idle  life. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


Shooting  Snipe  dexterously,  has  always  been  considered 
a  difficult  point  to  attain,  and  requires  not  only  excellent 
judgment,  but  much  deliberation.  The  silent  and  rapid 
manner  which  this  bird  springs  from  the  ground,  and  the 
zig-zag  figure  of  its  flight,  oftentimes  disappoints  expert 
shots,  and  puts  them  in  doubt  of  their  proficiency  in  the 
science.  I  have  known  excellent  shots  at  other  objects, 
miss  Snipe  five  or  six  times  in  succession,  but  it  is  gene- 
rally attributable  to  the  common  fault  of  shooting  too 
soon. 

In  rising  from  the  ground,  the  Snipe  springs  to  the  height 
of  five  or  six  feet,  and  darts  ofl"  in  a  zig-zag  manner,  at  the 
commencement  of  which  it  utters  a  sound  similar  to  the 
word  scape,  and  after  continuing  in  this  way  for  a  distance, 
perhaps,  of  twentj^  yards,  directs  a  straight  course,  gradu- 
ally ascending,  until  it  reaches  a  certain  height  in  the  air, 
when  a  few  circuitous  flights  are  performed,  until  another 
spot  to  settle  is  fixed  upon;  this  determined,  it  gradually 
descends,  and  when  near  the  earth,  drops  of  a  sudden  in 
the  grass.  Owing  to  this  habit  of  alighting,  many  unskilled 
persons  are  deceived,  thinking  it  to  be  the  effect  of  a  mortal 
wound  which  causes  the  sudden  stop,  but  on  approaching 
the  spot  where  it  settles,  to  their  amazement,  find  the  bird 
will  rise  as  freely  as  before. 

Our  Snipe,  although  different  in  appearance  from  the 
JacA;-Snipe  of  England,  is  similar  to  it  in  habit,  especially 
in  this  manner  of  alighting  on  the  ground,  and  the  follow- 
ing anecdoie,  related  by  Thornhill,  in  his  Shooting  Direc- 
tory, may  not  be  inappropriatcl)^  inserted  here,  as  tending 
to  show  the  disappointment  of  many,  when  in  pursuit  of 
this  game.  He  says,  "  a  most  curious  circumstance  occur- 
red respecting  a  Jack-Snipe,  that  was  sprung  several  times 
by  a  Mr.  Molloy,  formerly  a  quarter-master  of  the  64th 
regiment,  while  he  was  quartered  at  Geneva  barracks, 
Ireland,  is  worth  relating:  He  regularly,  after  his  duty  was 
done,  or  if  he  could  possibly  obtain  leave  for  a  day,  used 
to  equip  himself  for  shooting,  and  always  sprung  this  Jack- 
Snipe,  at  which  he  fired,  and  followed,  and  the  bird  used 
to  pitch  so  close  to  him  at  times,  that  he  was  confident  he 
had  shot  it,  and  used  to  run  to  take  it  up,  when,  to  his 
great  surprise,  it  would  rise,  and  fly  a  little  farther;  he 
actually  acknowledged  he  fired,  one  day,  eighteen  times 
at  this  bird,  and,  after  shooting  at  it  for  the  whole  season, 
he  happened  to  be  crossing  the  bog  it  lay  in,  when  he  put 
it  up,  and  exclaiming,  "there's  my  old  friend,"  threw  his 
stick  at  it,  and  killed  it  on  the  spot;  whenever  after,  any 
of  his  brother  officers  found  a  Jack-Snipe,  they  were 
always  sure  to  say,  "there  goes  Quartermaster  Molloy." 

The  proper  manner  of  hunting  Snipe  is  with  the  wind, 
as  they  not  only  lie  much  closer  for  the  sportsman, 
but  having  great  aversion  to  the  wind  acting  against  their 


feathers,  will,  immediately  after  rising,  head  the  wind, 
and  present  a  convenient  cross  shot,  and  should  they  be 
plentiful,  it  is  most  advisable  to  hunt  them  without  dogs, 
as  the  sportsman  can  spring  them  himself  with  all  conve- 
nience. It  is  also  important  to  success,  to  reserve  the 
fire  until  the  irregularity  of  their  flight  is  over,  which 
rarely  exceeds  twenty  yards,  and  this  being  point  blank 
distance,  will  enable  the  shooter  to  kill  his  object,  not  only 
with  greater  certainty,  but  more  satisfaction. 

At  times,  the  Snipe  are  exceedingly  shy,  and  difficult  to 
approach,  frequently  springing  up  beyond  the  reach  of  your 
shot,  and  again  so  tranquil  as  not  to  fly  until  almost  trod- 
den upon;  satisfactory  reasons  for  this  difference  have  never 
yet,  to  my  knowledge,  been  presented,  but  which,  I  think, 
may  be  accounted  for  as  follows.  Snipe,  like  woodcock, 
feed  more  during  the  night  than  the  day,  but  more  espe- 
cially moonlight  nights,  on  which  occasions  their  wander- 
ings are  more  severe  and  fatiguing,  consequently,  it  will 
be  found,  that  on  days  succeeding  those  moonlight  nights, 
the  Snipe,  by  reason  of  fatigue  and  satisfied  appetite, 
become  more  sluggish  and  inclined  to  be  dormant.  Again, 
the  migration  of  these  birds  always  takes  place  during  the 
night  season,  gradually  through  the  whole  month  of  March, 
and  the  early  part  of  April,  commencing  about  twilight  in 
the  evening,  and  subsiding  at  the  same  period  the  next 
morning,  and  will  perform  a  journey,  at  a  moderate  calcu- 
lation, of  three  or  four  hundred  miles  at  one  flight.  Now, 
when  the  sportsman  encounters  these  birds  the  day  after 
their  migratory  flight,  they  are  found  to  be  very  tenacious 
of  their  resting-place,  and  quit  it  reluctantly;  nor  is  it  diffi- 
cult to  detect  them,  for  whilst  those  Snipe  which  have 
remained  for  days  and  recruited  strength,  will  rise  at  too 
great  a  distance  for  a  successful  shot,  make  their  usual  circu- 
lar flight,  and  depart  for  some  more  distant  feeding  ground, 
these  will  spring  up  only  at  your  feet,  fly  a  short  distance, 
and  drop  again  into  the  grass,  and  continue  these  short 
flights,  until  repeated  persecution  drives  them  completely 
off.  These  birds,  after  a  long  flight,  will  remain  in  rich 
feeding  ground  for  a  number  of  days,  and  until  they  have 
satisfied  the  cravings  of  hunger,  or  become  sufficiently  re- 
cruited to  continue  their  migration,  when,  being  disturbed 
during  the  day,  will  make  their  final  move  the  succeeding 
night.  In  this  way,  sportsmen  have  often  been  disap- 
pointed, when  resorting  to  Snipe  ground,  find  few,  or  no 
birds,  where,  the  day  previous,  they  were  in  the  greatest 
abundance. 

The  Snipe  are  occasionally  to  be  found  in  swampy  thick- 
ets, but  more  generally  in  open  meadows,  with  a  soft 
bottom,  and  more  or  less  covered  slightly  with  water,  this 
kind  of  ground  abounds  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Philadel- 
phia,   but  since  the    excavation    of  the  Chesapeake   and 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


Delaware  canal,  numbers  of  sportsmen  resort  thither  as  a 
favourite  place  for  shooting  Snipe;  at  times  they  are  scarce 
even  in  this  place,  and  then  again  in  vast  numbers,  so  that 
the  indefatigable  sportsman  is  often  rewarded  for  his  ex- 
pense and  toil.  When  this  spot  was  first  resorted  to,  for 
the  purpose  of  shooting  Snipe,  I  have  been  informed,  that, 
so  great  a  multitude  of  these  birds  have  congregated  in 
places,  as  to  rival  black-birds  in  the  size  of  their  flocks. 

The  Snipe  pass  the  middle  States  by  the  latter  end  of 
April,  and  reach  their  place  of  incubation,  in  the  more 
northern  climate,  in  the  early  part  of  May,  where  they 
remain  until  October,  whence  they  return,  and  again  afford 
amusement  to  our  sportsmen,  during  the  Indian  Summer; 
at  this  period  they  are  generally  more  fat  and  tender  than 
in  the  spring,  being  mostly  j^oung  birds.  They  finally 
return  to  the  southern  States,  and  winter  in  the  marshy  and 
rice  gi'ounds,  with  which  those  States  abound. 

Although  these  birds  are  strictly  migratory,  there  are 
instances  when  they  remain  with  us  through  both  summer 
and  winter,  as  I  have  several  times  shot  them  in  the  heat 
of  the  former,  and  the  severities  of  the  latter. 

In  habit,  the  Snipe  is  a  solitary  bird,  and  performs  its 
journey  alone,  but,  as  has  been  stated  before,  they  concen- 
trate in  particularly  rich  feeding  grounds,  in  such  quanti- 
ties, that  when  disturbed,  their  rise  is  so  simultaneous,  as 
to  have  the  appearance  of  flocks,  and  they  will  hover 
around  in  large  bodies,  unwilling  to  leave  the  spot,  until 
they  either  disperse,  or  settle  again  in  the  grass,  but  their 
arrival  at,  and  departure  from,  these  places,  is  solitary. 
When  this  game  is  plentiful,  I  would  advise  the  young 
sportsman,  by  all  means,  to  practice  on  it  in  preference  to 
any  other;  it  is  clear  shooting,  no  objects  interpose  to  dis- 
concert the  mind,  and  direct  it  from  the  game;  conse- 
quently, there  is  more  time  for  deliberation.  No.  9  shot, 
is  sufficiently  large  for  the  purpose,  as  it  requires  but  a 
slight  wound  to  bring  them  to  the  ground — and  one  day's 
exercise  with  prudence,  after  these  birds,  will  initiate  the 
beginner  into  the  science  of  shooting,  more  completely, 
than  practising  a  whole  week  at  useless  swallows,  or  slug- 
gish rail.  I_ 


REPLY  TO  "SPORTSMAN." 

Messrs.  Editors, 

Your  correspondent,  the  "Sportsman,"  has  evinced  so 
much  courtesy  in  his  remarks  on  my  essay  on  Chesapeake 
Duck  Shooting,  that,  though  difiering  in  sentiment,  I  feel 
much  pleasure  in  replying  to  his  ""  Stricture."  With 
respect  to  his  first  observation,  on  the  principle  of  aimino- 
Z  ^        f  o 


in  advance  of  a  bird,  when  at  a  great  distance,  the  necessity 
of  it  has  been  so  much  an  axiom  with  old  duck  shooters, 
that  every  argument  with  them  would  fail  in  overturning 
it.  I  imagine,  from  the  sentiments  of  your  correspondent, 
that  his  practice  has  been  principally  with  ordinary  game; 
where  the  rapidity  of  flight  and  distance  of  object  have  been 
so  materially  different  from  the  case  assumed  by  myself, 
that  a  comparison  can  scarcely  be  drawn. 

With  a  partridge  or  woodcock,  the  nearness  of  the  object, 
and  the  comparative  slowness  of  progression,  destroy  the 
necessity  for  any  sensible  difference  in  the  direction  of 
aim;  for,  it  has  been  computed  that  these  birds  fly  at  the 
rate  of  from  thirty  to  forty  feet  in  a  second  of  time,  and  being 
generally  shot  at  within  sixty  yards  distance,  the  spread  of 
the  load  will  cover  all  deficiency. 

With  a  bird  at  eighty  or  one  hundred  yards,  whose 
motion  is  nearly  ninety  feet  in  that  time,  there  can 
be  no  doubt  of  the  absolute  necessity  for  a  certain  allow- 
ance. Throwing  aside  the  spreading  of  the  shot,  and 
estimating  the  load  but  as  a  single  mass  like  a  bullet,  the 
subject  assumes  a  more  simple  shape,  and  it  is  thus  I  will 
consider  it.  If  the  shooter  ceases  to  move  his  gun  when 
he  begins  to  pull  the  trigger,  there  can  be  no  question  of  the 
loss  of  time  even  with  the  most  rapid  motion  of  the  lock; 
but  I  will  take  the  fairest  position  of  the  matter,  and  allow 
that  the  gun  is  still  covering  the  bird  when  the  load  is 
actually  at  the  muzzle.  The  diagram  before  us,  will  assist 
in  explaining  the  philosophy  of  the  subject. 

I  will  consider  A  the  breech  of  the 
gun,  which  is,  for  all  purposes,  suf-  *e 
ficiently  a  point  or  centre  of  motion, 
and  B  the  muzzle.  A  C  the  posi- 
tion of  the  gun  when  the  shooter 
commences  the  operation  of  firing, 
E  the  bird  at  that  moment;  and  ta- 
king a  course  that  will  bring  it  when 
at  its  nearest  point,  at  a  distance  of 
one  hundred  yards  from  the  person. 

We  will  suppose,  although  the  relative  proportions  of  dis- 
tance are  not  accurate  in  the  design,  that  the  process  of 
pulling  the  trigger,  and  the  passage  of  the  load  from  the 
breech  to  the  muzzle,  occupies  one  second  of  time,  and  that 
during  that  interval,  the  muzzle  has  travelled  to  B,  which 
we  will  assume  as  ten  feet,  the  length  of  the  barrel,  of 
course  changing  the  arc,  and  the  bird  has  arrived  at  F,  or 
eight j'-seven  feet  beyond  E.  Allowing  the  load  to  be 
attached  to  the  muzzle,  and  the  same  rate  of  motion  con- 
tinued, it  would  be  under  the  influence  of  a  power  of  a 
momentum  of  ten  feet  in  a  second,  and  which,  in  another 
second  would  carry  it  to  D.  But  presuming  this  momen- 
tum was  received,  and  the  attachment  to  the  gun  destroyed. 


00 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


the  tangential  disposition  would,  of  course,  place  it  at  I, 
in  the  same  time.  The  "  Sportsman"  must  allow,  for  the 
sake  of  his  own  argument,  that  the  load  must  remain  a 
sufficient  length  of  time  at  the  muzzle,  to  receive  all  the 
lateral  motion  of  that  part,  however  inappreciable  the  in- 
terval. The  contents  of  the  gun,  therefore,  has  received, 
at  the  instant  of  its  departure,  a  certain  lateral  progression, 
which  there  is  nothing  afterwards  to  increase,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  a  forward  velocity  of,  we  will  say  as  a  data, 
one  hundred  yards  in  a  second.  Whilst  the  load,  there- 
fore, is  passing  through  this  space,  the  bird  has  arrived  at 
H,  which  is  exactly  in  a  line  with  the  gun,  if  it  had  con- 
tinued the  same  rate  of  swing.  We  have  now  two  forces 
to  consider,  a  forward  one  of  one  hundred  yards  in  a  second, 
and  a  side  one  of  ten  feet  in  a  second,  and  as  all  uninfluenced 
impulses  are  in  straight  lines,  a  course  exactly  between  the 
two  will  be  the  track  of  the  load,  and  it  will  reach  G,  in 
a  line  diagonally  drawn  from  B,  to  a  point  in  a  line  with 
I.  If  it  be  thought  that  my  time  is  extreme,  take  any 
proportion  of  it,  and  the  result  is  the  same.  For  instance, 
consider  that  one-twentieth  of  a  second  is  required  for  a 
ball  to  pass  one  hundred  yards,  take  the  one-twentieth  of 
eighty-seven  feet,  as  the  progress  of  the  bird,  and  the 
same  proportion  of  the  advance  of  the  gun,  and  you  will 
have  six  inches  as  the  arc  for  the  muzzle,  and  more  than 
four  feet  for  the  bird. 

As  to  the  second  objection  of  the  "  Sportsman,"  to  hear- 
ing the  sound  of  the  shot  strike  the  bird,  I  do  not  recol- 
lect to  have  ever  met  with  a  ducker  but  who  believed  that 
a  sound  that  is  distinctly  heard  immediately  after  the  dis- 
charge, arose  from  that  cause.  When  birds,  at  even  a  less 
distance  than  one  hundred  yards,  are  struck,  and  sufficiently 
hard  to  kill  instantly,  a  noise  is  perceived  that  can  have  no 
other  explanation,  and  I  have  often  closed  my  eyes  to  be 
enabled  to  determine  from  this  sound  alone,  the  success  of 
the  shot.  During  the  sporting  of  last  season,  it  was  a  sub- 
ject of  daily  conversation  with  us,  and  the  death  of  many 
ducks  was  successfully  predicted  by  that  means  alone,  and 
the  particular  gunner,  who  struck  the  bird,  was  frequently 
determined,  and  the  fact  proven  by  the  examination  of 
the  entering  pellets,  when  there  was  no  indication  of  success 
till  after  all  had  discharged.  Mr.  Titian  Peale,  than  whom 
there  cannot  be  more  experienced  or  philosophical  author- 
ity, has  informed  me,  that  when  large  animals,  as  buffalo, 
elk,  or  deer,  are  struck  by  a  ball,  and  death  instantly  fol- 
lows, this  sound  is  distinctly  heard,  though  a  much  less 
resounding  body  than  feathers  is  impinged.  A  ball  fired 
at  an  object  as  a  board,  or  even  a  solid  post,  at  one  hundred 
yards,  can  be  heard  to  strike,  almost  uniformly.  The 
"  Sportsman"  forgets  that  this  sound  must  return  to  the 
ear  at  a  rate  of  11 43  feet  in  a  second,  so  that  at  one  hundred 


yards,  one-fourth  of  a  second  must  elapse  after  the  blow, 
before  its  report,  which,  allowing  the  discharge  and  effect 
are  simultaneous,  which  they  certainly  are  not,  is  suffi- 
cient to  enable  this  noise  to  be  heard. 

Before  closing  my  remarks  on  the  essay  which  excited 
the  observations  of  the  "  Sportsman,"  I  will  express  my 
regret  at  the  errors  in  composition  which  are  self-apparent 
in  it,  the  piece  having  been  written  in  haste,  and  my 
engagements  preventing  a  subsequent  correction. 

I.  T.  S. 


ON  THE  CHOICE  OF  GUNS. 

Messrs.  Editors, 

In  my  communication  of  the  19th  of  October,  1830,  I 
confined  myself  to  a  description  of  guns  adapted  princi-  _^ 
pally  for  field  purposes,  or  shooting  small  game.  My  object  H 
in  the  present,  is  to  speak  of  those  kinds  which  are  most  o 
approved  of  by  the  '^  Still  Shooter,'"^  whose  object  is  to 
kill  large  game,  and  at  a  great  distance,  such  as  deer,  geese, 
ducks,  &c.  There  is,  however,  a  diversity  of  opinion  re- 
specting these  guns,  chiefly  growing  out  of  habit,  owing 
to  the  peculiar  notions  of  many  persons,  and  their  mode  of 
hunting.  It  is  notorious,  that  many  a  man  who  has  a  gun, 
thinks  himself  in  possession  of  the  very  best  in  ike  loorld, 
and  his  practice  confirms  him  in  his  opinion,  that  is,  the 
only  one  calculated  to  insure  success.  With  such  I  am  not 
going  to  dispute  the  point,  but  yield  at  once  to  all  which 
they  shall  insist  upon,  as  undeniable,  and  true  to  the  very 
letter. 

In  selecting  a  gun  for  the  purpose  of  killing  deer,  turkey, 
wild  ducks,  &c.  I  would  recommend  one  weighing  from 
ten  to  twelve  pounds,  if  single,  and  twelve  to  fourteen,  if 
double-barrelled,  of  seven-eighths  calibre,  and  about  three 
feet  three  to  three  feet  six  inches  in  length,  which  is  capa- 
ble of  throwing  from  two  to  three  ounces  of  shot,  of  any 
kind,  and  which  will  be  found  convenien*  for  carrying 
about.  When,  however,  the  object  is  boat-shooting,  a 
different  gun  from  this,  altogether,  is  required.  In  the 
District  of  Columbia,  it  is  the  custom  now,  to  use  guns, 
weighing  twenty-five  or  thirty  pounds,  of  an  inch,  or  an 
inch  and  a  quarter  calibre,  from  four  to  five  feet  in  length, 
carrying  from  six  to  eight  ounces  of  shot,  and  it  is  even 
asserted  that  ten  ounces  are  frequently  thrown  at  once! !! 
In  the  winter  of  1827-8,  a  coloured  man  had  been  pro- 
vided with  a  small  piece  of  cannon,  (it  could  be  called 

*  A  still  shooter  is  one  who  remains  stationary  at  some  place,  and  only 
shoots  when  objects  pass  him,  or  who  hunts  without  a  dog,  and  steals  upon  his 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


nothing  else)  which  weighed  about  sixty  pounds,  and  was 
projected  over  the  bow  of  a  little,  frail  machine,  which 
scarcely  deserved  the  name  of  a  boat,  whilst  he  stretched 
himself  in  the  bottom  and  paddled  in  the  direction  of  the  game, 
which  floated  in  dense  masses  on  the  waters  of  the  Poto- 
mac. The  time  chosen  by  this  Nimrod  of  aquatic  celebrity, 
for  carrying  on  his  murderous  operations,  was  night,  and 
being  guided  chiefly  by  the  noise  of  the  birds,  he  moved 
silently  along  until  he  conceived  that  he  was  at  a  proper 
distance  to  speed  the  fatal  messengers.  Experience  had 
made  him  perfect  in  his  art,  his  boat  was  previously  trim- 
med so  as  to  allow  his  gun  to  range  about  one  degree  above 
the  level  of  the  water;  thus  equipped,  he  would  direct  his 
piece  carefully  towards  his  intended  and  unsuspecting  vic- 
tims, with  his  finger  on  the  fatal  trigger.  He  would  then 
arouse  them  and  make  them  take  flight,  by  kicking  the  boat 
with  his  toes,  but  no  sooner  did  he  hear  the  noise  of  their 
wings,  than  the  work  of  destruction  was  done.  In  one 
instance,  this  sable  adventurer  picked  up  sixty-three  canvass 
back  ducks,  part  of  which  he  oflered  for  sale  the  next 
morning  in  Washington,  the  balance  having  been  claimed 
by  the  parties  who  furnished  the  gun,  according  to  certain 
stipulations  entered  into  between  them  and  the  black.  This 
gun  was  secured  to  the  boat  by  a  long  cord,  so  that,  in  case 
of  the  upsetting  of  the  boat,  it  might  be  found.  I  did  not 
hear  whether  the  parties  alluded  to,  had  used  the  same 
precautionary  steps  in  regard  to  the  man,  in  case  he  should 
have  fallen  overboard  and  got  drowned.  By  repeated 
slaughter  of  this  kind,  how  reasonable  it  is  to  imagine,  that 
in  a  short  time,  this  valuable  luxury  of  the  table  will  en- 
tirely disappear,  and  how  salutary  would  be  some  law, 
which  should  regulate  its  introduction  into  market,  &c. 

Leaving  this  mode  of  killing  wild  fowl  to  negroes  and 
their  quod  companions,  we  will  return  to  our  former  text, 
and  to  better  associates.  Having  spoken  of  those  guns  best 
adapted  for  sportsmen,  we  would  merely  offer  a  remark 
respecting  the  advantage  which  the  shot  gun  possesses 
over  the  rifle,  in  the  hands  of  an  expert  shot,  and  who  is 
an  adept  in  the  art  of  shooting  on  the  wing,  and  whenever 
the  backwoodsman  can  handle  the  shot  gun  to  the  per- 
fection he  has  managed  the  rifle,  I  know  that  his  opi- 
nion will  coincide  with  mine,  for  the  execution  amongst 
game,  will  be  proof  sufiScient  to  remove  the  most  settled 
prejudices. 

In  the  first  place,  his  chances  are  multiplied  in  propor- 
tion to  the  number  of  buck  and  other  shot,  and  it  is  much 
easier  to  move  a  gun  of  ten  or  twelve  pounds  weight,  and 
keep  it  in  a  line  with  a  moving  object,  than  a  rifle,  which 
will  weigh  from  fifteen  to  twenty  pounds.  With  respect 
to  those  who  may  occasionally  indulge  in  aquatic  specula- 
tions, I  would  suppose  that  a  piece  of  twelve  or  fourteen 


pounds,  single  or  double,  and  carrying  a  charge  of  three 
or  four  ounces,  would  be  sufficiently  large  for  all  sports- 
man-like operations.  A. 


A  BEAR  HUNT. 


Messrs.  Editors, 

A  FEW  years  since,  when  a  resident  of  the  town  of  Han- 
cock, Delaware  County,  State  of  New  York,  among  my 
many  hunting  excursions,  I  experienced  the  following 
Bear  Hunt,  which,  if  you  think  sufficiently  interesting  for 
insertion  in  your  Work  on  Rural  Sports,  you  are  welcome 
to  it. 

In  making  hunting  excursions,  I  always  preferred  the 
period  when  the  ground  was  first  covered  with  snow,  and 
before  the  severity  of  the  weather  became  so  intense  as  to 
drive  most  of  the  wild  animals  to  their  dens,  which  is  more 
particularly  the  case  with  Bears,  where  there  is  a  scarcity 
of  food;  then  they  retire  early  to  their  winter  quarters, 
and  remain  in  a  dormant  state  until  the  opening  of  spring. 
The  season,  however,  to  which  I  allude,  afforded  so  plen- 
tiful a  supply  of  beech  and  chesnuts,  that  the  Bears  roamed 
at  large  much  longer  than  in  ordinary  cases,  and  seemed 
averse  to  den,  although  snow  had  fallen  to  a  considerable 
depth. 

When  this  is  the  case  they  become  exceedingly  fat,  and 
with  them  it  is  a  period  of  much  persecution,  as  many 
persons  are  actuated  to  pursue  them,  in  consequence  of 
considerable  profit  being  yielded  by  the  sale  of  their  fat, 
whilst  others  do  it  to  secure  a  necessary  supply  for  the 
winter  season.  This  fat  is  twofold  more  rich  than  lard,  and 
is  used  in  preference  to  it  for  various  culinary  purposes, 
but  more  especially  for  dough-nuts,  an  article  greatly  in 
vogue  in  newly  settled  countries,  being  convenient  to 
carry,  and  usually  adopted  by  hunters  for  their  daily  food, 
when  on  the  chase. 

During  the  above  period,  I  had  a  plentiful  supply  of 
good  dogs;  the  number  varying  from  five  to  nine,  and 
most  of  the  smooth  cur  breed.  This  description  of  dogs 
are  much  the  best  for  hunting  Bears;  for,  being  active  and 
ferocious,  they  worry  their  antagonist  to  such  a  degree, 
that  he  is  compelled  either  to  make  a  stand  to  defend  him- 
self, or  take  a  tree  in  order  to  avoid  them.  Their  manner 
of  attack  is  to  seize,  and  spring  back,  whenever  the  Bear 
attempts  to  fight,  and  the  moment  he  runs,  seize  him 
again;  in  this  way,  they  surround  him,  and,  although 
they  cannot  vitally  affect  him,  do  often  compel  him  to 
climb  a  tree,  or  resort  to  other  measures  to  rid  himself  of 
them. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


On  the  day  of  the  present  hunt,  I  was  joined  by  a  very 
particular  friend,  and  a  great  huntsman,  and  we  took  with 
us,  for  our  day's  sport,  nine  dogs,  and  two  men  to  assist 
leading  the  dogs — five  of  these  animals  were  experienced 
and  well  broken,  but  the  other  four  were  young,  and  about, 
for  the  first  time,  to  range  the  forest  after  Bear.  Our  first 
course  was  direct  to  a  mountain,  where,  we  were  confident, 
we  should  find  Bears;  we  moved  off  at  a  rapid  pace,  and 
soon  reached  our  place  of  destination.  This  mountain  was 
covered  with  beech  and  chesnut  trees,  and  the  Bears  had 
visited  these  so  often,  that  their  tracks  were  numerous, 
but  old;  at  length  we  came  to  a  spot  where  a  Bear  had  been 
scratching  up  the  snow,  in  search  of  food,  and  which  he 
had  left  only  the  night  previous;  we  followed  his  track  for 
about  one  mile,  when  our  dogs  aroused  him  from  his  rest- 
ing place.  Our  old  dogs  were  under  such  excellent  com- 
mand, that  we  kept  them  constantly  by  our  side,  until  we 
started  the  Bear  afresh,  when  we  let  them  off,  in  pursuit. 
Two  of  the  dogs  were  hounds,  and  would  constantly  give 
tongue,  whilst  the  curs  would  proceed  silently  in  chase, 
and  keep  ahead  of  the  former ;  and,  owing  to  this 
circumstance,  the  Bear  was  often  surprised,  because  his 
attention  having  been  attracted  by  the  yelping  of  the 
hounds,  would,  as  he  thought,  keep  beyond  reach  of  them, 
without  putting  himself  to  unnecessary  speed — when,  to 
his  surprise,  the  silent  dogs  would  often  be  close  at  his 
heels,  and,  coming  up  to  him,  would  engage  in  con- 
flict, and  stop  him;  this,  we  could  always  tell,  as  all  the 
dogs  would  then  join  in  general  cry,  when  we  would 
take  the  nearest  course,  by  crossing  in  the  direction  of  the 
sound. 

On  coming  up  to  the  combatants,  we  found  the  Bear, 
an  exceedingly  large  animal,  and  had  already  killed  a 
young,  and  bitten  one  of  the  old  dogs,  so  badly,  that  he 
could  not  remove  from  the  bed*  but  on  our  approach,  he 
made  off  again,  fighting  the  dogs  as  he  ran,  and  showed 
much  aversion  to  treeing,  and  would,  therefore,  enter 
swamps  and  windfalls,  but  being  so  closely  pursued  by  the 
dogs,  no  artifice  of  his  would  avail  him,  and  had,  at  last, 
recourse  to  a  large  tree,  where  he  remained  free  from  his 
persecutors,  who  were  assembled  beneath  him  barking  to 
but  little  purpose. 

It  may,  perhaps,  be  worthy  to  remark,  for  the  informa- 
tion of  those  who  know  but  little  of  these  animals,  that  old 

*'  A  hiLd  is  a  term  used  among  hunters,  signifying  the  spot  where  a  Bear 
makes  a  stand  against  his  adversaries,  and  is  more  particularly  applied  when 
the  ground  is  covered  with  snow,  as  he  generally  confines  himself  to  one  spot, 
which  is  completely  beaten  down  by  the  belligerents,  and  varies  from  ten  to 
twenty  feet  in  diameter.  Sometimes  the  Bear  gives  battle  sitting  in  an  upright 
posture,  and  again,  while  laying  on  his  back;  and  it  frequently  occurs,  that  he 
succeeds  in  beating  off  all  his  enemies,  and  will  chase  them  some  distance  from 
this  spot,  but,  unless  he  makes  off  to  some  other  neighbourhood,  will,  universally, 
return  again  to  the  bed  to  wait  for  a  fresh  attack, 


Bears  seldom  tree,  to  clear  themselves  of  dogs,  if  there  is 
any  possibility  of  escape  without  it,  and  when  necessity 
compels  them  to  this  course,  they  will,  on  the  approach 
of  a  human  creature,  in  despite  of  every  obstacle  which 
may  oppose  them,  descend  to  the  ground,  and  take  to 
flight;  but  young  Bears  will  climb  trees  immediately,  and 
often  sufler  hunters  to  approach  beneath,  and  shoot  them. 
Knowing  the  present  animal  to  be  an  old  and  formidable 
antagonist,  and  judging  from  the  noise  of  the  dogs,  that  he 
was  in  a  tree,  my  companion  thought  it  most  advisable  to 
destroy  him  at  once,  lest  he  should  kill  more  of  our  dogs, 
as  by  this  time  he  had  disabled  another;  he  accordingly 
approached  with  much  caution,  until  within  about  eighty 
yards  of  the  tree,  in  which  the  Bear  had  taken  refuge, 
when,  with  much  deliberation,  he  fired  at  his  head,  and, 
being  a  first  rate  shot,  I  felt  confident  that  the  animal  would 
have  fallen  dead;  but,  to  our  great  surprise,  the  shot  did  not 
take  effect,  owing  to  the  ball  having  struck,  and  glanced 
from  a  small  dead  limb,  which  was  immediately  in  front  of 
the  Bear's  head,  but  completely  unnoticed  by  my  friend. 
At  the  report  of  his  rifle,  the  Bear  descended  backwards, 
for  about  ten  feet,  then  doubled  himself  in  the  form  of  a 
hoop,  and  fell  to  the  ground. 

It  is  well  known  among  hunters,  that,  should  an  old  Bear 
be  surprised  on  a  tree,  he  will  never  descend,  by  sliding 
down,  but,  like  this  Bear,  roll  himself  up  and  fall,  some- 
times from  a  most  astonishing  height,  even  forty  or  fifty 
feet,  in  which  case  he  always  alights  on  his  rump,  and 
when  on  the  side  of  a  hill,  will  roll  like  a  hoop  to  the  bot- 
tom. I  have,  in  several  instances,  shot  them  after  such 
falls,  and  found  the  extent  of  injury  received,  was  a  few 
slight  bruises  near  the  root  of  the  tail.  Experienced  dogs 
are  aware  of  this  stratagem  of  the  Bear,  and,  so  soon  as  he 
lets  go  his  hold,  they  will  run  from  under  the  tree,  to  avoid 
his  fall.  This  plan  also,  the  Bear  adopts  to  clear  himself  of 
dogs,  as  he  knows,  that  should  he  descend  the  tree  gradu- 
ally, he  must  encounter  a  host  of  enemies,  the  moment  he 
reaches  the  ground.  In  the  present  instance,  the  dogs  knew 
the  character  of  their  antagonist,  and  ran  so  far  from  under 
the  tree,  that  the  Bear  had  recovered  from  his  fall,  and  ran 
three  hundred  yards  ere  they  could  overtake  him.  The 
battle  now  began  to  rage  mostfuriousl}',  and  we  were  alarm- 
ed for  the  fate  of  our  dogs,  and  endeavoured  to  shoot 
him  but  found  it  impossible  to  do  so,  without  endan- 
gering some  of  the  dogs.  He  then  laid  on  his  back,  and 
would  frequently  drag  some  of  the  dogs  into  him,  in  order 
to  squeeze  them  to  death,  but  being  broad  across  the  chest, 
failed  to  effect  his  purpose;  this,  the  old  dogs  knew  well, 
and  the  moment  he  would  seize  them,  they  would  close 
in  with  his  breast,  and  slip  out  backwards  from  him. 

Our  presence  excited  the  dogs  to  fight  with  the  utmost 


AND  AMERICAiN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


ferocity,  and  exceeding  coui-age,  for  half  an  hour,  but  the 
Bear  was  an  overmatch  for  them,  and  we  were  fearful  that 
he  would  bite  them  in  pieces,  and  escape  at  last,  without 
our  being  able  to  get  a  ball  into  him.  Amongst  our  dogs 
was  a  favourite  old  dog,  we  called  "Drive,"  and,  without 
exception,  the  best  dog  to  hunt  I  ever  saw,  and,  withal, 
the  most  courageous;  he  had  been  our  companion,  both  in 
toil  and  pleasure,  for  several  years,  and  his  encounters  with 
wild  animals  were  so  numerous,  that,  often  has  been  the 
time,  that  we  carried  him  from  the  field  of  battle  helpless 
and  mangled,  for  miles,  to  our  homes,  but  always  on  reco- 
vering, was  eager  to  engage  in  deadly  strife  with  any  mon- 
ster of  the  forest.  This  old  dog,  in  the  present  battle,  had 
seized  the  Bear  by  the  back  of  the  neck  with  so  firm  a  hold, 
as  to  disable  him,  in  some  measure,  from  injuring  the  other 
dogs.  The  Bear,  however,  endeavoured  to  rid  himself  of 
Drive  in  every  possible  way,  but  to  no  effect;  thinking  now 
it  would  be  a  good  opportunity  to  despatch  him,  I  resolved 
to  try  the  virtue  of  mj'  hunting  knife,  and  approached  him 
with  a  view  of  stabbing  him,  but  the  Bear  immediately 
broke  away  from  the  dogs,  and  then  threw  himself  on  his 
back  again,  and  when  in  this  position,  I  stood  my  rifle 
against  a  tree,  and  attempted  to  make  the  fatal  stroke, 
but  the  Bear  anticipated  my  intention,  and  met  my  blow, 
with  a  stroke  of  his  paw,  with  so  much  force  as  to  knock 
the  knife  from  my  hand  to  a  distance  of  thirty  feet,  and 
then  arose,  and  made  a  bold  push  at  me,  but  I  showed  him 
a  light  pair  of  heels,  and  being  again  seized  by  the  dogs, 
deterred  him  from  further  pursuit.  We  then  thought  of 
other  means,  and  commenced  cutting  large  clubs;  but  whilst 
engaged  at  this,  the  Bear,  disrelishing  his  new  enemies, 
cleared  himself  of  the  dogs,  which  w-ere  so  disabled  by  this 
time,  that  they  could  hardly  fight  more,  and  made  off  at 
full  speed.  I  seized  my  rifle,  and  just  as  he  was  springing 
over  an  old  hemlock  log,  I  fired  at  him,  but  being  afraid 
of  shooting  the  dogs,  I  shot  too  high,  and  only  cut  him 
across  the  rump  as  he  pitched  over  the  log,  this  put  him 
to  a  stand,  and  he  ascended  a  tree,  to  the  height  of  about 
forty  feet,  when  I  approached,  and  shot  him  through  the 
heart. 

We  examined  the  dogs,  and  found,  although  badly 
wounded,  they  would  be  enabled  to  reach  home  with  care 
and  assistance. 

A  few  days  previous  to  the  above  hunt,  I  had  set  a  large 
spring-trap  for  Bears,  made  of  iron,  for  the  purpose,  and 
acted  similar  to  a  spring  rat-trap,  but  with  square  joints, 
and  two  large  springs  acting  against  them,  with  two  smaller 
springs  inside  of  these:  beneath  the  jaws  were  arranged  a 
number  of  iron  spikes,  so  that,  as  soon  as  the  trap  sprung, 
it  held  its  prisoner  perfectly  secure.  These  traps  usually 
weighed  forty  or  fifty  pounds,  to  which  were  appended,  by 
A  a 


means  of  chains,  clogs  of  wood,  four  or  five  feet  in 
length,  to  prevent  the  caught  animals  from  escaping.  We, 
therefore,  at  the  commencement  of  this  day's  chase,  had 
sent  our  two  men  to  the  trap  to  ascertain,  if  any  animal 
was  caught;  and  while  we  were  engaged  in  dressing  the 
Bear  we  had  just  killed,  these  men  came  to  us  with  infor- 
mation, that  a  large  Bear  was  caught  by  the  trap,  and  so 
securely,  that  there  was  no  probability  of  his  escaping,  as 
the  trap  had  closed  upon  him  about  eight  inches  above  his 
paw.  The  day  was  drawing  to  its  close,  and  having  before 
us  sufficient  to  employ  the  balance  of  time  before  night 
set  in,  we  concluded  to  leave  the  trapped  Bear  for  another 
day's  excursion,  and  make  arrangements  to  get  home  our 
dogs,  in  which  we  succeeded,  and  had  them  well  provided 
for,  until  they  would  finally  recover. 

The  next  morning,  several  of  our  neighbours  joined  us 
in  our  excursion  after  the  caught  Bear;  our  number  amount- 
ed to  eight  or  ten  persons,  full  of  glee,  and  with  the  pros- 
pect of  a  fine  da}- 's  sport,  armed  with  but  an  axe,  and  one 
rifle,  we  sallied  forth,  with  an  addition  to  our  list  of  dogs, 
after  our  sable  antagonist.  We  soon  reached  the  scene  of 
our  operations,  and  judged,  the  Bear  must  have  been  en- 
trapped several  days,  as  he  was  somewhat  fatigued;  and, 
during  his  repeated  endeavours  to  rid  himself  of  the  trap, 
had  broken  the  bone  of  his  leg,  so  that  it  held  him  merely 
by  the  skin  and  sinews.  At  our  approach,  however,  he 
hobbled  off,  and  seizing  the  trap  in  his  mouth,  and  running 
on  three  legs,  made  considerable  progress;  but  the  young 
dogs  soon  fastened  on  him,  and  fought  very  handsomely, 
and,  in  order  to  give  the  Bear  a  better  chance  to  defend 
himself,  we  cut  him  loose  from  the  trap;  being  thus  disen- 
cumbered, he  boxed  the  dogs  about  pretty  freely,  until  an 
old  dog,  which  we  had  kept  in  reserve,  seized  him  by  the 
back  of  the  neck,  with  so  much  ferocity,  as  to  compel  the 
Bear  to  back  himself  against  a  large  hemlock  log,  which 
prevented  the  dogs  from  getting  behind  him,  by  which 
means  he  kept  them  at  a  respectful  distance.  As  conside- 
rable time  had  elapsed  since  we  first  found  him,  we  began 
to  grow  weary,  and  concluded,  that  if  it  was  possible  to 
master  him,  we  would  bind  him  and  carry  him  home  alive, 
for  a  sight  to  the  ladies  of  our  village;  and  having  deter- 
mined on  sport  that  day,  we  were  unwilling  to  put  an  end 
to  it,  by  destroying  the  Bear,  especially  as  our  number 
warranted  the  belief  that  we  could  take  him  home  a  pri- 
soner, or  that  eight  or  ten  stout  men  could  secure  one 
disabled  Bear — but  here  was  the  difficult}- — how  were  we 
to  secure  him,  without  danger  to  ourselves?  Various  plans 
were  proposed,  but  none  seemed  practicable;  at  last  J — , 
an  old  hunter,  and  a  large  athletic  man,  proposed  the  fol- 
lowing, which  was  to  cut  a  long  pole,  with  a  large  fork  at 
one  end,  and  crawl  behind  the  Bear,  and  while  his  atten- 


94 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


tion  was  engaged  by  the  dogs,   force  the  fork  against  the 
back  of  his  neck,  and  pin  him  to  the  ground,  until  the  rest 
could  secure  him.   This  caused  much  diversion  to  the  com- 
pany, as  well  from  the  singularity  of  the  plan,  as  the  sincere 
manner  in  which  it  was  spoken  by  J—.      He,    however, 
nothing  discouraged  at  their  mirth,  procured  his  pole,  and, 
with  great  gravity,   proceeded  towards  executing  his  plan. 
Confident  of  success,  he  approached  the  Bear  with  much 
caution,  who  heeded  nothing  but  his  antagonists  in  front, 
and  was  not  aware  of  his  new  enemy.      J —  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  log,  on  which  he  mounted,  immediately  over 
the  Bear,   and  in  the  very  spot  he  desired  to  stand;  thus 
prepared,  he  made  a  push  at  the  back  of  the  Bear's  neck, 
with  his  forked  pole,  thinking  that,   so  soon  as  his  antago- 
nist felt  the  pressure,  he  would  counteract  it  by  resistance, 
and  therefore  inclined  the  whole  force  of  his  body  in  that 
direction;  during  this  time  nothing  could  exceed  the  mirth 
of  the  party,  the  soberness  with  which  the  Bear  defended 
himself,  in  his  upright  posture,   and  the  ludicrous  appear- 
ance of  J—,  when  about  yoking  the  Bear,  created  a  scene 
of  laughter  not  easily  to  be  described;  while  some,  unable 
to  give  vent  sufficiently  to  their  merriment,  laid  down  and 
rolled  about  in  the  snow.  Bruin,  himself,  was  up  to  a  thing 
or  two,  and  envious  of  their  mirth  at  his  expense,  conclu- 
ded to  turn  the  joke  upon  his  antagonist,  for,  just  at  the 
moment  when  J —  pressed  with  all  his  force  against  him, 
instead  of  resisting  the  push,  threw  himself  forward,  which 
brought  J —  from  his  equilibrium,  and  tumbled  him  over 
the  Bear's  head,  and  before  he  could  make  another  spring, 
Bruin  made  fair  play  at  his  breech,   with  a  blow  so  well 
directed,  as  to  remove  the  seat  of  his  pantaloons  completely, 
and  then  gave  chase  with  open  jaws;  this  was  too  much  for 
the  risible  faculties  of  the  party,   who,   being  completely 
overcome,  were  rolling  in  the  snow,  convulsed  with  laugh- 
ter, and  entirely  heedless  of  the  situation  in  which  J —  was 
placed,  for  the  Bear  was  close  at  his  heels,  for  forty  yards, 
and  would  inevitably  have  caught  him,   had  it  not  been  for 
the  old  dog,  which  rushed  on  and  seized  the  Bear,  and 
brought  him  to  a  stand.     J — ,  too,   could  not  help  joining 
the  general  mirth,   occasioned   by  his  defeat,  although 


their  curiosity  was  satisfied,  we  concluded  to  take  a  social 
glass,  and  try  the  effect  of  rum  on  Bruin;  to  treat  him  with 
a  drink  we  thought  no  more  than  fair,  after  his  rough  usage, 
and  accordingly  poured  down  his  throat  a  gill  of  old  New 
England,  when  he  also,  like  many  others,  showed  a  fond- 
ness for  the  cretur,  and  began  to  lick  his  chops  for  more. 
We  then  cut  the  withes  from  his  legs,  to  see  what  efiect  the 
liquor  produced  on  him;  he  soon  began  to  show  signs 
of  beastly  intoxication,  as  he  would  shut  his  eyes,  fold 
himself  up,  and  appear  to  sleep,  but,  on  touching  him 
with  a  stick,  he  would  rise,  make  a  jump  as  far  as  he 
could,  but  no  sooner  touch  the  ground  than  he  would 
lie  down  and  fall  to  sleep  again.  We  finally  put  an 
end  to  his  existence,  and  distributed  his  remains  among 
the  company ;  in  all  probability,  we  should  have  kept 
him  alive,  had  it  not  been  for  the  loss  of  his  fore-paw, 
as  this  was  the  only  injury  he  had  received,  being 
scarcely  hurt  by  the  dogs,  and  it  may  be  worth  sta- 
ting, that  old  bears,  when  fat,  and  in  a  wild  state,  seldom 
suffer  much  from  dogs,  even  if  numerous.  In  consequence 
of  the  length  of  their  fur,  and  quantity  of  fat,  the  dogs 
cannot  press  their  teeth  into  the  Bear's  flesh,  and  the  ex- 
tent of  suffering  on  the  Bear's  part,  is  only  a  little  worri- 
ment  from  which  they  soon  relieve  themselves  by  climbing 
a  tree. 

February  21,  1831.  W.  W. 


HUNTING  IN  INDIA. 

Of  all  the  pleasant  modes  of  travelling  in  the  East,  that 
of  riding  leisurely  in  the  cool  season  over  your  ground,  and 
making  diversions  to  the  right  or  left — as  the  country  seems 
likely  to  promise  sport — is  the  most  so.  Your  tent  is 
pitched  under  some  wide-spreading  banian  tree,  or  in  the 
midst  of  a  cool  grove  of  mangoes;  where  it  is  delicious  to 
repose  during  the  heat  of  the  day — extended  luxuriously 
upon  a  sofa,   when  all  around  are  sunk  to  rest;  to  smoke  a 


manilla  cheroot,  and  with  eyes  half-shut  to  exhale  the  fra- 
pursued^  by  his  inveterate  enemy,  with  a  determined  spirit  grant  clouds,  and  i«hale  the  cool  breeze,  which  steals 
of  revenge,  in  despite  of  his  white  flag,   streaming  from     through  the  open  doors  of  the  tent. 


behind.  This  plan  having  failed,  we  procured  a  small  sap- 
ling, and  whilst  the  battle  was  raging,  placed  it  across  the 
Bear's  back,  and,  by  our  weight,  pressed  him  to  the  earth, 
when  we  succeeded  in  tying  his  legs  together  by  withes; 
we  also  secured  his  mouth,  for  fear  that,  when  ascending 
or  descending  hills,  he  probably  would  slide  along  the  pole 
and  bite  us;  having  him  perfectly  secured,  we  carried  him 
by  passing  a  pole  through  his  legs,  to  our  homes,  as  a  sight 
to  our  families,  and  a  trophy  of  our  perseverance.     When 


Your  dogs  seem  to 
enjoy  it  as  much  as  yourself;  they  stretch,  and  yawn,  and 
sigh,  and,  looking  up  in  your  face,  beat  the  ground  with 
their  tails  with  every  demonstration  of  extreme  canine  lux- 
ury; now  and  then  snapping  at  the  mosquitoes  that  buzz 
about  the  tent,  and  doubtless  dreaming  of  the  summer-flies 
of.their  own  dear  land. 

I  love  dogs  as  much  as  horses;  without  them  I  really  do 
not  see  how  the  world  could  go  on.  When  the  sun  declines, 
you  put  on  your  straw  hat  and  shoes,  and  stroll  forth  into 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


95 


the  woods,   with  the  certainty  of  getting  a  shot  nineteen  black  whipper-in  and  several  doriyas  were  waiting  with 

times  out  of  twenty.  the  hounds.     As  the  gray  dawn  was  hardly  yet  percepti- 

Never  pass  a  tank  without  peeping  over  the  mound  that  ble,  I  had  ample  time  to  look  over  this  little  pack  by  torch- 
surrounds  it — you  are  almost  sure  of  finding  wild-fowl  light.  To  home-bred  English  eyes  the  turn-out  would 
there.  Often  and  often  have  I,  in  one  of  these  lazy  strolls,  seem  but  a  poor  one:  only  seven  couples  and  a  half  were 
come  suddenly  upon  hundreds  of  widgeon  and  teal;  and  so  in  the  field;  and,  of  these,  three  dogs  were  curs,  a  half- 
impudent  were  they  frequently,  that,  even  after  firing  at  bred,  between  a  fox-hound  and  the  common  Indian  pariah 
them,  the  flock  would  only  move  into  the  middle,  or  to  the  dog.  They  prove,  however,  exceedingly  useful  in  worry- 
further  end  of  the  tank,  if  it  were  a  large  one.  ing  the  jackals;  and,  being  fast,  generally  receive  most  of 

At  this  hour  the  quails  and  partridges  leave  the  brakes,  those  severe  bites  at  the  finish,   which  might  cow,   if  not 

where  they  have   sheltered  themselves  during  the  sultry  injure,  the  regular  pack. 

noon,  and  feed  in  the  stubbles.     Jackals  may  be  seen  steal-  The  remaining  six  couples  were  some  of  the  handsomest 

ing  about  the  thickets  in  every  direction,    and  little  grey-  dwarf  fox-hounds  I  ever  saw:  one  couple  of  bitches,  espe- 

foxes  bolt  out  before  you  like  rabbits.  cially,  was  such  a  perfect  picture  I  could  not  help  regretting 

The  deer  also  may  now  be  more  easily  approached  whilst  they  had  ever  been  sent  to  the  deadly  climate  of  the  torrid 

intent  upon  feeding,  and  a  stalking-horse  may  sometimes  zone. 

be  used  with  success:   a  bullock  would  be  better,   as  they  When  I  saw  these  hounds,   two  months  afterwards,  in 

are  more  accustomed  to  its  appearance;  but  it  is  surprising  the  hot  season,  their  condition  had  fallen  off  most  lamenta- 

what  a  great  dislike  Indian  cattle  entertain  for  Europeans;  bly;  and  many  of  them,   I  should  think,  would  never  get 

and  this  would  often  defeat  the  sportsman's  manreuvre.  over  the  rains.      The  hunting  costume  of  India  is  ratlier 

Nothing  is  more  annoying  than,   after  wasting  an  hour  antique:  a  cap,  round  coat,  buckskin  breeches,  and,  gene- 

in  endeavouring  to  approach  a  herd  of  antelopes,   to  see  rally,  brown  tops,   characterise  the  fox-hunter  of  Bengal, 

them  all  start  off,   bounding  up  into  the  air,   and  kicking  Some  modern  innovations  have  crept  in;  but,   in  general, 

their  heels  at  you  in  scorn — just  too,   as  you  were  within  all  Orientals  are  as  wedded  to  ancient  dustoora,  or  custom, 

long  gun-shot,  and  enjoying  in  anticipation,  the  sweet  cur-  as  John  Company  is  to  his  monopoly  of  tea. 


rant-jelly  and  the  savoury  haunch.  Antelope  venison  is, 
though,  at  the  best,  but  very  indifferent;  being,  generally, 
hard  and  stringy;  whilst  that  of  the  spotted  deer  is,  I  think, 
superior  to  our  own:  it  is,  moreover,  far  less  shy  than  the 
startlish  gazelle,  and  the  other  species  of  antelope.  In  pitch- 
ing a  tent,  you  should  be  sapient  enough  to  recollect  that 


The  Judge  was  accoutred  in  this  style;  and  mounted  on 
one  of  the  most  perfect  brown  Arabs  ever  seen — called  (if 
I  remember  rightly)  Jimesbiiry,  in  honour  of  Nimrod's 
hunter  of  the  same  name.  He  had  a  stablefull  of  some 
other  very  fine  horses,  chiefly  Arabs — but  Amesbury  beat 
them  all.      One  (Champion)  was  a  noble  creature,  and  so 


the  sun  never  stands  still:  I  have  seen  men,  even  old  docile,  that  the  *_yce  used  to  bring  him  into  the  breakfast- 
travellers,  soft  enough  to  encamp  on  the  then  shady  side  of  room  every  morning,  when  my  fair  hostess  honoured  him 
the  tree,  and  in  an  hour  be  exposed  to  the  fiercest  influence  by  supplying  bread  with  her  own  hand  for  his  unconscion- 
of  the  sun;  which,  under  canvas,  is  no  joke:  frequently,  the  able  stomach.  Champion,  once  a  good  one,  had  received 
scorching  heat  has  compelled  me  to  take  refuge  under  the  a  wrench  in  the  loins  at  a  big  jump,  and  was  then  perfectly 
table,  when  compelled  to  encamp  in  a  spot  utterly  desti-  useless. 

tute  of  trees.     It  was  on  one  of  those  delightful  tropical  Balasore  is  but  a  small  Civil  station,  and  only  four  or 

evenings  in  February,  that  I  was  yawning  under  an  old  five  sportsmen  joined  us:  one  of  them,  Mr.  Matthews,  was 

tamarind  tree,  under  which  my  tent  was  pitched,  and  gazing  mounted  on  a  noble  chesnut  stallion,   said  to  be  one  of  the 

upon  the  distant  town  of  Balasore,  and  the  wide  prospect  most  perfect  desert  Arabs  ever  brought  from  the  coast  of 

which  extends  from  the  hills  of  Orissa  to  the  sea,  when  a  Yemen.     He  was  very  high  for  an  Eastern  horse,  and  his 


hat-less  European  came  charging  up  to  me  at  full  speed, 
and  in  a  second  I  recognized  Mr.  Patten,  then  joint  judge, 
and  magistrate  of  the  district. 

At  that  time  I  was  not  aware  that  a  pack  of  hounds  ex- 


fiery  and  lasting  vigour  seemed  almost  too  much  for  his 
rider.     That  horse  was  worth  any  sum. 

My  kind  friend,  Mr.  Pigou,  the  Judge  of  Cuttack  (late 
of  Jessore),  who  was  my  fellow-traveller,  rode  a  stout  ches- 


isted  in  these  wilds;  but  so  it  was:   and  the  result  of  our  nut  horse,  of  dubious  breed,  but  which,  though  slow,  went 

conference  was,  that  we  should  unkennel  a  jackal  (would  I  very  well. 

might  say  a  fox)  at  day-break.  We  soon  found  a  jackal,  and  had  a  sharp  burst  of  a  quar- 

Before  it  was  light  we  mounted  our  prads,  and  rode  out  ter  of  an  hour,  over  ground  full  of  holes  and  brambles,  as 

from  the  residency  to  a  village  two  miles  distant,  where  a  hard  as  granite,  and  over  fields  divided  by  little  banks  at 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  fflSTORY 


every  twenty  yards;  and  these  are  far  more  annoying  to  a 
British  fox-hunter  than  the  ox-fences  of  Leicestershire,  or 
the  stone-walls  of  the  midland  counties.  They  keep  you 
and  3'our  horse  in  a  constant  fret,  and  yet  never  give  you 
a  jump;  excepting  now  and  then,  when  yoxi  come  to  some 
bamboo-fence  about  eight  feet  high,  which  will  never 
break,  and  your  only  chance  is  to  shut  your  eyes,  stick 
in  your  spurs,  and  shout  the  exhilarating  war-cry  of 
"  Charge!" 

We  lost  this  jackal  and  found  another,  which  gave  us  a 
slapping  run  of  about  half  an  hour;  my  mare  had  a  bad 
cold,  and  began  to  blow;  when,  luckily  for  me,  the  in- 
creased heat  of  the  Indian  sun  made  the  hounds  throw  up 
their  noses,  and  enabled  me  to  retreat  with  credit,  though 
Mr.  Patten's  kindness  had  made  a  syce  accompany  me  with 
a  fresh  horse,  in  case  my  own  should  knock  up. 

At  this  moment  I  find  that  the  ship  is  about  to  sail — so  I 
must  conclude  without  any  more  remarks  on  this  gallant 
little  pack;  but,  please  God,  hereafter  I  will  renew  my 
Indian  reminiscences,  if  you  and  your  readers  are  blessed 
with  patience.  Mr.  James  Patten  is  one  of  the  boldest 
riders  in  India — his  battered  cap  proves  the  frequency  of 
his  hair-breadth  escapes.  Once  he  jumped  a  tremendous 
well  (an  Indian  one)  which  might  appal  Castor  himself: 
his  horse's  hinder  feet  almost  slipped  in,  when  both  must 
have  perished.  The  best  of  it  is,  that  he  did  it  in  cold  blood, 
for  the  sake  of  a  lark. 

I  am  sorry  to  add  that  Mr.  P.  has  since,  with  the  Cal- 
cutta hounds,  broken  his  leg  most  desperately,  in  getting 
over  a  bank;  but  I  trust  that,  by  this  time,  he  is  at  it 
again! — Sporting  Mag. 


ANECDOTE  OF  A  PHEASANT. 

Gentlemen, 

Observing,  in  your  Cabinet  of  Natural  History,  an  anec- 
dote respecting  the  occasional  stupidity  of  the  American 
Grouse,  I  send  you  the  following  extract  from  my  note 
book,  which  may  further  illustrate  the  manners  of  that 
interesting  bird. 

Along  the  eastern  bank  of  the  Hudson  river,  opposite 
to  the  city  of  Albany  (N.  Y. ),  there  lies  a  sandy,  unculti- 
vated, and  uninhabited  tract  of  country,  of  considerable 
extent.  This  is  covered  with  dwarf  pines,  and  thick  bushes 
of  oak  and  whortleberry.  The  sportsman  here,  not  unfre- 
quently,  meets  with  the  Grouse,  which  resort  to  these  bar- 
rens, for  the  small  acorns  and  berries  which  there  abound. 

Every  hunter  knows  that  the  Pheasant,  or  Grouse, 
though  often  shy  and  cunning,  will,  when  worried  by  his 
dog,  sometimes  exhibit  such  a  degree  of  stupidity,  infatu- 


ation, and  torpor,  as  to  be  caught  by  the  hand.  An 
instance  of  this  singular  trait  occurred  to  me  some  time 
since. 

Just  at  sun-set,  in  the  early  part  of  October,  18 — ,  on 
returning  home  from  a  ramble  in  the  country,  with  my 
friend,  J.  S.  on  the  porch  of  the  Eagle  tavern,  which  is  on 
the  opposite  bank  of  the  river  to  the  Grouse  ground  which 
I  have  just  described,  we  were  much  surprised  to  see  a 
large  male  pheasant  [Tetrao  Umbellus.)  This  fine  bird 
was  quite  motionless,  and  seemed  altogether  unconcerned 
at  the  noise  and  crowd  of  citizens  in  this  frequented  and 
thickly  settled  portion  of  the  town.  We  entered  the  Eagle 
by  another  way,  and  by  gently  opening  the  door  to  the 
porch,  where  the  Pheasant  had  lodged  himself,  we  captured 
him  under  a  hat;  though,  by  some  mismanagement,  he 
afterwards,  fortunately  made  his  escape. 

Having  heard  the  discharge  of  some  fowling-pieces  dur- 
ing our  walk,  we  supposed  that  this  Pheasant  had  been 
frightened  from  his  usual  haunts  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  river,  and,  in  his  alarm,  took  refuge  here,  even  under 
the  talons  of  the  Eagle. 

Wishing  you  success  in  your  interesting  and  meritorious 
attempt  to  illustrate  the  Natural  History  of  our  country, 
I  remain,  yours  truly, 

JACOB  GREEN. 


SPORTING  CALCULATION. 

1st.  In  the  course  of  a  long  day's  hunting,  it  is  10  to  1 
in  favour  of  a  bold  and  good  rider,  well  mounted,  that  he 
meets  any  accident  at  all. 

2d.  Supposing  he  falls,  it  is  8  to  1  that  either  he  or  his 
horse  is  materially  hurt. 

3d.  It  is  6  to  1  the  horse  is  hurt,  and  not  the  rider. 
4th.   If  the  rider  is  hurt,  it  is  12  to  1  that  a  bone  is  not 
broken. 

5th.  It  is  20  to  1,  if  a  bone  is  broken,  that  the  wound 
is  not  mortal. 

Ergo,  lOx  Sx  6  X  12  X  20=115,200 
:lXlXlXlXl=l 
And  115,200=  1  — thus  stated,  it  details: 
That  he  has  no  fall,  is  10  to  1 ; 
That  himself  or  horse  is  not  hurt,  80  to  1 ; 
That  it  is  his  horse  and  not  himself,  480  to  1; 
That  no  bone  is  broken,  5,760  to  1 ; 
That  the  hurt  is  not  mortal,  115,200  to  1. 
Ergo,  out  of  115,200  persons  who  go  out  hunting  in  the 
morning,  only  one  is  supposed  to  end  his  course  in  that  way 
from  the  effect  of  that  day's  diversion. — ,5«n.  of  Sporting. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


97 


WOODCOCK  SHOOTING. 

[Plate  IX.] 

There  is,  perhaps,  no  sport,  in  this  country,  which 
occupies  the  attention  of  the  shooter  so  much  as  that 
of  hunting  Woodcocks;  and,  as  the  season  approaches 
which  embraces  this  favourite  amusement,  much  anxiety, 
preparation,  and  solicitude,  are  wasted,  in  anticipating 
the  pleasure  which  abundance  of  this  game  produces, 
and,  for  weeks  before  this  period  arrives,  the  talents  of 
all  the  gunsmiths  are  called  in  requisition  by  sports- 
men, to  supply  any  deficiencies  which  may  be  found 
existing  in  their  stock  of  accoutrements.  This  undue  ea- 
gerness, however,  sometimes  leads  to  great  vexation  and 
disappointment,  and  proves  to  be  premature  ;  for,  like  the 
instability  of  most  pleasures,  the  prospect  of  good  shooting 
is  often  obscured  by  the  storms  of  a  single  night,  and  those 
places  of  favourite  resort  by  gunners,  which  sometimes 
yield  rich  harvests  to  their  perseverance,  are  frequently 
rendered  birdless  by  one  heavy  rain.  This  contingency 
attending  Woodcock  shooting,  deters  many  from  pursuing 
it  who  are  extremely  fond  of  the  sport,  and  who  prize  it 
as  superior  to  all  others,  but  which  circumstance  alone  is 
sufficient  to  bring  it  beneath  the  level  of  partridge  shoot- 
ing. In  Europe,  this  bird  is  considered  a  great  luxury, 
and  their  scarcity  in  England  enhances  their  value  con- 
siderably more  in  the  eye  of  the  sportsman,  but  seldom 
affords  so  much  amusement  as  other  species  of  game: 
they  are,  however,  in  this  country,  so  plentiful,  that  the 
season  for  shooting  them,  if  prudently  observed,  adds  much 
to  enjoyment,  and  constitutes  an  era  of  great  importance 
in  the  sporting  world. 

No  laws  regulating  the  season  for  shooting  Woodcock 
have,  we  believe,  ever  been  enforced,  except  by  the  State 
of  New  Jersey,  which  restricts  it  to  that  period  between 
tlie  first  of  July  and  February;  although  several  cities  have 
so  far  noticed  this  game  as  to  prohibit  its  sale  in  their 
market  places,  except  during  the  above  period.  Sports- 
men, however,  in  every  State,  respect  the  proper  season 
for  shooting  this  bird,  and  are  generally  confined  to  those 
months:  but  there  are  many,  who  do  not  bear  even  the 
semblance  of  sportsmen,  so  unprincipled  as  never  to  regard 
law,  either  natural,  moral,  or  statute,  and  destroy  this  bird 
indiscriminately  whenever  it  is  to  be  met  with,  often  em- 
bracing the  season  of  incubation,  when  the  bird  is  so  tame 
as  almost  to  be  taken  by  the  hand,  as  more  easily  sacrificed 
to  their  inhuman  and  unfeeling  propensities.  In  connec- 
tion with  the  pleasures  attending  Woodcock  shooting,  there 
are  many  inconveniences  and  difficulties,  which  call  into 
exercise  all  the  energies  of  the  sportsman.  Commencing 
Bb 


in  the  heat  of  summer,  he  is  subject  in  his  excursions  to 
the  scorching  rays  of  the  sun,  and  dampness  and  mud  at- 
tends his  every  step,  from  which  by  the  solary  influence, 
often  arises  a  damp  vapour,  almost,  at  times,  suffocating, 
which  enervates  the  system,  and  serves  to  create  excessive 
fatigue;  it  thus  becomes  a  season  of  toil,  pain,  and  un- 
pleasant retrospection:  when,  if  pursued  during  the  only 
proper  season,  in  the  fall  of  the  year,  it  would  be  one  of 
the  most  delightful  periods  of  enjoyment. 

This  bird  is  known  throughout  the  United  States,  under 
different  names,  as  the  snipe,  big  snipe,  red-breasted  snipe, 
and  mud  snipe,  and,  in  some  parts  of  the  country,  through 
ignorance,  is  not  considered  fit  to  eat,  although  they  are 
generally  held  in  the  highest  estimation  as  an  article  of 
luxury,  and  frequently  command  an  extravagant  price  ;  it 
is  in  October  and  November,  that  the  Woodcock  is  in  the 
best  state  for  the  table,  but  impatience  in  the  sportsman 
urges  him  to  war  against  them,  so  soon  as  the  law  will  per- 
mit it.  The  favourite  places  of  resort  for  Woodcocks 
are  low,  marshy  grounds,  swamps,  and  meadows,  with  soft 
bottoms,  where  cattle  have  been  grazing,  although  during 
wet  seasons  they  seek  higher  land,  most  generally  corn- 
fields, to  seek  their  food  in  the  soft  ploughed  ground.  It 
is  no  difficult  matter  to  ascertain  the  presence  of  these  birds 
in  particular  places,  as  the  earth  will  be  found  perforated 
with  numbers  of  holes  made  by  their  bills,  while  searching 
for  worms  beneath  the  surface  of  the  ground. 

Throughout  the  month  of  July,  and  part  of  August,  the 
Woodcocks  are  to  be  found  in  most  grounds  of  the  above 
description,  and  in  seasons  of  excessive  drought,  are  very 
numerous  on  tide  watei  creeks  and  shores  of  fresh  water 
rivers — those  extensive  meaaows  in  the  interior  of  New 
Jersey,  near  to  Atsion  Furnace,  and  frequently  in  the 
marshy  flats,  overgrown  with  reeds:  they  were  also  found 
in  quantities  in  the  meadows  bordering  the  Cohansey  river, 
in  the  lower  part  of  Jersej',  in  1S25,  at  which  place  three 
gentlemen,  in  the  space  of  about  two  hours,  on  a  very 
small  spot,  killed  upwards  of  forty  birds.  But  though 
the  favourite  places  of  resort  for  Woodcocks  are  in  the  re- 
gion of  streams  and  muddy  bottoms,  yet,  different  from 
the  snipe,  they  are  averse  to  much  water,  and  a  heavy  rain 
will  disperse  them  over  a  wide  extended  country,  and 
ground  which  sometimes  produces  abundance  of  this  game, 
is  found  forsaken  by  them,  the  night  succeeding  a  heavy  rain. 

The  Woodcocks,  when  found  in  meadow  land,  are  easy 
birds  to  shoot,  and  require  but  an  indifferent  shot,  and 
slight  wounds  to  kill  them,  and  are  therefore  sought  after 
by  young  sportsmen  in  preference  to  other  game;  for, 
being  exceeding  sluggish  in  their  movements,  they  afford 
excellent  opportunities  to  the  beginner  to  exercise  himself 
in  the  science  of  shooting.    When  sprung  from  the  ground, 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  fflSTORY 


these  birds  always  give  warning  by  a  whistling  noise  with 
their  wings,  and  seldom  rise  higher  than  a  man's  head,  skim- 
ming over  the  ground  with  a  slow  and  steady  flight,  to  but 
a  short  distance,  when  they  settle  again  in  the  grass — but 
their  character  is  entirely  changed,  when  the  shooting 
is  confined  to  bushes  and  thickets,  as  it  then  constitutes 
one  of  the  most  difficult  feats  to  kill  them,  their  course 
being  very  indirect  and  unsteadj',  and  differing  altogether 
from  the  flight  of  other  game,  springing  rapidly  from  the 
ground,  and  rising  perpendicularly,  until  they  clear  the  tops 
of  the  trees  or  bushes,  when  their  flight  becomes  more  steady, 
but  out  of  reach,  and  it  requires  much  experience  and  judg- 
ment to  embrace  the  proper  moment  to  shoot  before  they 
make  the  twistings  and  turnings,  in  order  to  pass  between 
the  trees,  for  this  most  generally  disconcerts  every  one 
who  is  not  an  expert  shot. 

To  follow  Woodcocks  successfuly,  two  persons  should  al- 
ways hunt  together,  so  that,  when  the  birds  are  sprung,  they 
will  be  the  better  able  to  mark  the  spot  where  they  settle 
again;  as  success  depends,  in  a  great  measure,  on  marking 
them  properly,  it  is  advisable  for  one  to  walk  in  the  centre 
of  the  thicket,  while  the  other  keeps  outside,  as  in  narrow 
swamps,  the  birds  will  universally  dart  out  of  some  open- 
ing, and  fly  along  the  edge,  until  they  determine  to  settle 
again,  and  the  chances  of  killing  are  twofold  in  favour  of 
the  one  outside,  besides  the  opportunities  of  marking. 

In  Europe  every  sport  has  its  particular  description  of 
dogs,  to  which  their  use  is  solely  applied:  thus,  there  is  the 
stag-hound,  and  the  fox-hound — for  hunting  hares  the  grey- 
hound— for  the  different  vermin,  the  beagle,  harrier  and  ter- 
rier— for  grouse,  the  pointer;  for  partridges  and  pheasant, 
the  setter,  and  for  Woodcock  the  springer,  or  cocking 
spaniel.  In  this  country,  our  sportsmen,  for  shooting  pur- 
poses, confine  themselves  to  the  pointer  and  setter  dogs, 
and  are  mostly  guided  in  their  choice  by  taste,  rather  than 
judgment,  and  use  them  indiscriminately  for  grouse,  phea- 
sant, partridge,  woodcock  and  snipe.  The  Springer  is  but 
little  known  here,  and  is,  in  fact,  the  only  proper  dog  to 
hunt  Woodcocks,  as  it  never  points,  but  is  most  assiduous 
in  pursuit,  and  on  the  instant  of  springing  the  bird,  gives 
warning  to  its  master:  but,  in  the  absence  of  this  dog, 
the  setter  is  undoubtedly  preferable  to  the  pointer;  the  na- 
ture of  the  ground  to  be  hunted  over  is  more  suited  to  his 
disposition  and  habits,  and  being  less  mindful  also  of 
briars  and  thickets,  will  not  only  perform  more  to  the  satis- 
faction of  his  master,  but  withstand  greater  fatigue  than 
the  pointer. 

The  double  gun  should  always  be  used  after  this  des- 
cription of  game,  as  the  fault  of  shooting  too  soon  occurs 
more  frequently  in  cripples,  than  on  any  other  ground, 
and  success  is  threefold  more  in  favour  of  the  second  dis- 


charge than  the  first  fire,  as  the  bird,  by  this  period,  has 
only  gained  the  proper  killing  distance.  "Very  small  shot, 
say  No.  9,  is  sufficiently  large  to  kill  them,  there  being  no 
American  bird  of  the  same  magnitude  which  possesses  so 
frail  a  skin,  and  is_more  easily  penetrated. 

After  shooting  at  a  bird,  in  case  its  flight  continues,  the 
course,  and  spot  in  which  it  settles,  should  be  particularly 
marked;  as  it  frequently  happens  they  will  fly  to  a  much 
greater  distance  with  a  mortal  wound,  than  otherwise,  and 
many  birds  are  lost  to  the  sportsman,  from  his  neglect  in 
this  point. 

Persons  frequently  return  from  Woodcock  shooting  un- 
successful, in  consequence  of  not  hunting  the  ground  well; 
too  much  care  cannot,  therefore,  be  employed  in  beating  a 
thicket,  and  very  slow  progress  should  alwa3's  be  made 
through  high  grass,  as  the  tenacity  of  these  birds  to  their 
places  of  repose  will  subject  them  to  be  almost  trodden 
upon  without  taking  wing,  and  it  will  be  well  for  the 
sportsman  to  halt  every  few  yards,  as  this  will  tend  to  flush 
them,  when  constant  motion  would  keep  them  quiet. 

In  October  and  November,  the  Woodcocks  forsake  their 
usual  feeding-ground,  and  are  to  be  found  in  tall,  swampy 
woods,  small  streams,  overgrown  with  bushes,  and  newly 
cleared  land;  their  favourite  food  consists  of  insects,  larva 
of  insects,  and  earth-worms;  therefore,  when  the  approach- 
ing cold  weather  drives  the  latter  deep  into  the  ground, 
they  then  resort  to  woods  and  bush-land,  where,  beneath 
the  leaves,  they  glean  a  subsistence  on  insects.  This  is  the 
only  proper  season  to  shoot  them;  they  are  then  fat,  and 
much  larger  than  in  July,  and  generally  free  from  vermin. 
In  June,  they  are  to  be  met  with  in  almost  every 
swampy  meadow;  but  their  number  is  generally  confined 
to  from  two  to  six;  as,  however,  the  season  advances,  and 
the  3"0ung  birds  mature,  the  drought  drives  them  to  those 
wet  feeding-grounds  before  mentioned,  into  which  they 
sometimes  concentrate  in  great  numbers.  These  places 
are  then  resorted  to  by  sportsmen,  who  frequently  make 
most  incredible  havoc  and  waste  of  life  among  them,  some- 
times killing  such  quantities,  that  before  night  approaches 
those  birds  killed  in  the  morning  are  putrified.  This  un- 
necessary destruction  of  life  should  be  avoided;  it  adds 
nothing  to  the  sportsman's  character  as  a  good  shot,  and 
most  certainly  detracts  from  his  feelings  of  humanity; 
that  number  should  suffice  which  may  be  conveniently 
kept,  and  rendered  suitable  for  the  table. 

The  Woodcock  is  considered  a  nocturnal  bird,  and  does 
all  its  feeding  and  migratory  flights  during  this  season:  in- 
deed, its  sight  is  very  imperfect  in  the  day  time,  and  the 
construction  of  the  eye  evidently  unfits  it  for  the  glare  of 
day:  hence  the  reason  why  it  selects,  in  low  bushes  and 
long  grass,  those  sombre  retreats  from  which  it  never  vol- 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


untarily  departs,  until  twilight  approaches.  This  imper- 
fection in  sight  is  strikingly  manifested,  when  driven  from 
their  seclusion,  as  they  seldom  make  long  flights,  and  are 
always  anxious  to  settle  immediately,  as  though  it  was 
painful  to  sustain  the  dazzling  light  of  the  sun,  and  are  as 
likely  to  rush  into  danger  as  to  avoid  it,  frequently  ap- 
proaching the  sportsman  sufficiently  near  to  be  stricken  by 
the  hand.  The  writer  himself,  during  the  past  summer,  while 
standing  beneath  the  shade  of  a  tree,  observed  a  Wood- 
cock settle  within  a  few  feet  of  him,  and  actually  remained 
some  seconds  before  it  took  to  flight  again;  but  this  appa- 
rent stupidity  is  only  attributable  to  their  imperfect  vision, 
in  the  day  time.  But  no  sooner  do  the  shades  of  evening 
appear,  than  they  sally  forth,  from  their  thousand 
hiding-places,  to  seek  their  food  in  open  glades  and  mea- 
dows. At  this  time,  an  expert  shot  may  reap  a  rich  reward 
to  his  watchfulness,  should  he  station  himself  near  to  some 
dense  swamp,  where  these  birds  are  making  continual  in- 
gress and  egress. 

Often,  in  his  walks  at  twilight,  along  the  secluded  lane 
or  lonely  meadow,  does  the  passenger  observe  an  object 
like  a  phantom  flit  before  his  face,  or  spring  from  his  path, 
with  a  whistling  noise,  and  is  lost  in  the  impenetrable 
gloom  which  surrounds  him: — it  is  this  lonely  bird,  unable 
to  sustain  that  light  which  gives  life  and  gaiety  to  other 
birds,  now  breaking  forth  from  every  opening  of  the 
woody  recess,  to  enjoy  the  comfort  and  protection  which 
night  affords,  while  seeking  unmolested  the  means  of  sus- 
taining life. 

Woodcocks,  although  migrator}"-,  remain  frequently  with 
us  during  the  whole  year — sometimes,  when  the  streams 
are  covered  with  ice,  and  the  ground  with  snow;  but  their 
places  of  resort  then,  are  in  cedar  swamps,  and  those 
springy  woods,  where  the  water  never  freezes,  but  is  con- 
stantly oozing  from  the  ground,  and  it  appears  remarkable 
how  this  bird,  whose  food  consists  altogether  of  worms  and 
insects,  should,  at  this  season  of  the  year,  find  means  to 
sustain  life;  but  Nature,  ever  provident  in  her  resources, 
and  bountiful  to  all  her  oflspring,  has  furnished  this  bird 
with  a  bill  whose  length  and  delicacy  of  touch  enables  it  to 
penetrate  deeply  into  the  earth,  and  draw  from  thence  its 
accustomed  support. 


THE   SEA. 


To  those  who  are  capable  of  only  gazing  upon  its  surface, 
the  ocean  is  a  sublime  sight.  "The  waste  of  waters,"  as 
we  are  in  the  habit  of  calling  it — though  it  be  any  thing  but 
a  waste,  girdles  the  globe  from  pole  to  pole,  and  occupies 


nearly  three-fourths  of  its  surface.  When,  on  some  calm 
and  pleasant  day,  when  there  is  not  a  cloud  to  dapple  the 
sky,  or  a  breath  to  ruffle  the  waters,  we  look  out  from  some 
lone  promontory  or  beetling  rock,  upon  the  soft  green  face 
of  ocean,  and  see  it  extending  on  and  on  in  one  glassy 
level,  till  it  blend  its  farther  blue  so  softly  with  that  of  the 
air,  that  we  know  not  which  is  the  sea  and  which  sky,  but 
are  apt  to  fancy  that  this  limpid  watery  curtain  is  drawn 
over  the  universe,  and  that  the  sun,  the  planets,  and  the 
stars,  are  islands  in  the  same  sea  in  which  our  own  habita- 
tion is  cast.  In  the  soft  but  sublime  contemplation,  we  find 
the  mind  expand  with  the  subject;  the  fancy  glides  off  to 
places  more  high  than  the  line  can  measure,  more  deep 
than  plummet  can  sound;  we  feel  the  link  that  binds  us  to 
creation;  and  finding  it  to  be  fair  and  lovely,  our  kindly 
feelings  only  are  touched,  and  we  exult  in  the  general  hap- 
piness of  that  of  which  we  feel  that  we  are  a  part.  If  then 
a  vessel  should  come  in  sight,  with  the  sun  illuminating  its 
canvass,  like  a  beam  of  light  on  the  blue  sea,  and  moving 
slow  and  stately,  not  seeming  to  us  to  be  in  motion,  and 
yet  shifting  miles  before  we  can  count  minutes,  how  we 
long  to  be  passengers — to  walk  upon  the  waters — to  be 
wafted  by  the  winds — to  visit  the  remotest  parts  of  the 
earth,  without  half  the  effort  which  is  required  before  the 
sluggard  can  turn  on  his  couch.  Then,  if  we  linger  till 
the  sun  declines,  and  his  beams  are  wholly  reflected  from 
the  glowing  surface,  what  an  excess  of  brightness!  An 
infinitude  of  burnished  gold,  and  of  burnished  gold  all 
living  and  in  motion,  stretches  out  at  our  feet;  and  as  the 
reflected  light  upon  the  shore  wakens  a  gentle  zephyr  of  the 
air  in  that  direction,  the  dimpling  water  plays  in  alternate 
sunshine  and  shade,  as  if  the  luminary  had  been  broken  to 
fragments,  and  gently  strewed  along  its  surface. 

But  if  the  elements  are  in  motion,  if  the  winds  are  up — 
if  the  "blackness  of  darkness,"  which  cloud  upon  cloud, 
rolling  in  masses  and  roaring  in  thunder,  which  answers  to 
the  call  of  the  forked  lightning,  has  flung  its  shadow  upon 
the  sea,  so  as  to  change  the  soft  green  to  a  dark  and  dismal 
raven  blue,  which  gives  all  the  effect  of  contrast  to  the 
spray  that  dances  on  the  crests  of  the  waves,  chafes  around 
the  reef,  dashes  with  angry  foam  against  the  precipice,  or 
ever  and  anon,  as  the  fitful  blast  puts  on  all  its  fury,  covers 
the  whole  with  reeking  confusion,  as  if,  by  the  force  of  the 
agitation,  the  very  water  had  taken  fire; — if  one  can  stand 
so  as  to  view  the  full  swell  of  the  tempest-tossed  ocean  side- 
ways, it  is  indeed  a  sjiirit-stirring  sight!  The  dark  trough, 
between  every  two  ridges,  appears  as  if  the  waters  were 
cleft  in  twain,  and  both  a  pathway  and  a  shelter  displayed, 
while  ridge  courses  after  ridge  in  eager  race,  but  with  equal 
celerity.  Some,  indeed,  appear  to  fall  in  their  course,  and 
to  be  trampled  upon  by  those  that  are  behind.     They  are 


100 


TIIE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


hit  by  one  of  those  momentary  gusts  which  fall;  and  where, 
as  Burns  expressively  has  it,  the  wind  is  every  where 
blowing 

"  As  'Iwould  blaw  ils  last," 

it  lashes  a  portion  of  the  surge  to  a  greater  elevation  than  it 
can  bear;  or,  some  bank  or  hidden  rock  from  below  arrests 
it  in  its  course;  and  down  it  thunders  in  brawling  and  foam, 
interrupting  the  succession,  and  embroiling  its  successors  in 
its  fate. 

Even  when  seen  from  the  pebbly  beach  of  a  lee-shore, 
the  ocean  in  a  storm  is  a  sight  both  to  be  enjoyed  and  re- 
membered. The  wave  comes  rolling  onward,  dark  and 
silent,  till  it  meets  with  the  reflux  of  its  predecessor,  which 
produces  a  motion  to  seaward  on  the  ground,  and  throws  the 
approaching  wave  off  its  equilibrium.  Its  progress  is  arrest- 
ed for  a  moment;  the  wall  of  water  vibrates,  and  as  it  now 
meets  the  wind,  instead  of  moving  before  it,  its  crest  be- 
comes hoary  with  spray;  it  shakes — it  nods — it  curls  for- 
ward, and  for  a  moment  the  liquid  column  hangs  suspended 
in  the  air;  but  down  it  dashes  in  one  volume  of  snow-white 
foam,  which  dances  and  ripples  upon  the  beach.  There  is 
an  instant  retreat,  and  the  clean  and  smooth  pebbles,  as  they 
are  drawn  back  by  the  reflux  of  the  water,  emulate  in  more 
harsh  and  grating  sounds  the  thunder  of  the  wave. 

Here  we  may  see  what  a  wonderful  thing  motion  is. 
What  is  so  bland  and  limpid  as  still  water!  what  substance 
half  so  soft  and  fine  as  the  motionless  atmosphere!  The 
one  does  not  loosen  a  particle  of  sand:  the  other — you 
must  question  with  yourself,  and  even  add  a  little  faith  to 
feeling,  before  you  be  quite  sure  of  its  existence.  But  arm 
them  once  with  life,  or  with  that  which  is  the  best  emblem 
and  the  most  universal  indication  of  life,  motion,  and  they 
are  terrible  both  in  their  grandeur  and  their  power.  The 
sand  is  driven  like  stubble;  the  solid  earth  must  give  way; 
and  the  rocks  are  rent  from  the  promontory,  and  flung  in 
ruins  along  its  base.  Need  we,  therefore,  wonder  that  the 
masts  and  cordage  that  man  constructs  should  be  rent  as  if 
they  were  gossamer,  and  his  navies  scattered  like  chaff? 

The  grandest  scenes,  however,  are  found  at  those  places 
where  former  storms  have  washed  away  all  the  softer  parts, 
and  the  caverned  and  rifted  rocks — the  firm  skeleton  of  the 
globe,  as  it  were — stand  out  to  contend  with  the  turmoiling 
waters.  The  long  roll  of  the  Atlantic  upon  the  Cornish 
coast;  a  south-easter  upon  the  cliffs  of  Yorkshire,  or  among 
the  stupendous  caves  to  the  eastward  of  Arbroath;  a  north- 
easter in  the  Bullers  of  Buchan;  or,  better  still,  the  whole 
mass  of  the  Northern  ocean  dashed  by  the  bleak  north  wind 
against  the  ragged  brows  of  Caithness  and  Sunderland; 
those — that  especially — are  situations  in  which,  if  it  can  be 
viewed  in  these  islands,  the  majesty  of  the  deep  may  be 


seen.  Upon  the  last,  in  the  acme  of  its  sublimity,  one  dares 
hardly  look.  The  wind  blows  ice;  and  the  spray,  which 
dashes  thick  over  five  hundred  feet  of  perpendicular  clifis, 
falls  in  torrents  of  chilling  rain;  while  the  vollied  stones, 
which  the  surges  batter  against  the  cliffs,  the  hissing  of  the 
imprisoned  air  in  the  unperforated  leaves,  and  the  spouting 
water  through  those  that  are  perforated,  and  the  dashing  and 
regurgitation  of  the  latter,  as  it  falls  in  the  pauses  of  the 
commotion,  produce  a  combination  of  the  terrible,  which 
the  nerves  of  those  who  are  unaccustomed  to  such  scenes 
can  hardly  bear. 

And  yet  there  is  an  enchantment — a  fascination  almost  to 
madness — in  those  terrible  scenes.  Mere  height  often  has 
this  singular  effect,  which  is  alluded  to  by  the  Philosopher 
of  Poets,  in  his  admirable  description  of  Dover  cliff: 

"I'll  look  no  more  ; 
Lest  my  brain  turn,  and  the  deficient  sight 
Topple  down  headlong." 

But  when  the  elements  are  in  fury — when  the  earth  is 
rocking,  and  the  sea  and  sky  reeling  and  confounding  their 
distinctive  characters  in  one  tremendous  chaos — when,  in 
all  that  is  seen,  the  common  laws  of  nature  seem  to  be  abro- 
gated, and  her  productions  of  peace  cast  aside,  in  order  that 
there  may  be  an  end  of  her  works,  and  that  the  sway  of 
"the  Annarch  old"  may  again  be  universal — the  heroism 
of  desperation — that  which  tempers  the  soldier  to  the  strife 
of  the  field,  and  the  sailor  to  the  yet  more  terrible  conflict 
on  the  flood — comes,  and  comes  in  its  power — and  the  dis- 
position to  dash  into  the  thickest  of  the  strife,  and  die  in  the 
death-struggle  of  nature,  is  one  of  the  most  powerful  feel- 
ings of  one  who  can  enter  into  the  spirit  of  the  mighty 
scene. 

We  leave  those  who  allocate  the  feelings  of  men  accord- 
ing to  the  scale  of  their  artificial  systems,  to  find  the  place 
of  this  singular  emotion,  and  call  it  a  good  or  an  evil  one, 
as  they  choose.  But  we  have  been  in  the  habit  of  feeling 
and  thinking  that  it  is  an  impulse  of  natural  theology — one 
of  those  unbidden  aspirations  toward  his  Maker  which  man 
feels  when  the  ties  that  bind  him  to  nature  and  the  earth 
appear  to  be  loosening,  and  there  remains  no  hope,  but  in 
the  consciousness  of  his  God,  and  of  that  eternity,  the  gate 
of  which  is  in  the  shadow  of  death.  Thus,  amid  the  fury 
of  the  elements,  the  unsophisticated  hopes  of  man  cling  to 
Him,  who  "  rideth  in  the  whirlwind  and  directeth  the 
storm." 

But  beautiful  or  sublime  as  the  ocean  is,  according  to 
situation  and  circumstances,  we  should  lose  its  value,  were 
we  to  look  upon  it  only  as  a  spectacle,  and  were  the  emo- 
tions that  it  produced  to  be  only  the  dreams  of  feeling, 
however  touching,  or  however  allied  to  religion.     To  ad- 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


mire  and  to  feel  are  both  essential  and  valuable  parts  of  our 
nature  ;  but  neitlier  of  them  is  so  essential,  as  to  know. 
That  is  the  antecedent  matter;  because  by  it,  and  by  it  only, 
the  admiration  and  the  feeling  can  be  properly  directed. 
The  first  property  of  the  ocean  that  strikes  our  sight,  is  its 
vast  extent;  and  the  first  that  addresses  our  understanding, 
is  the  vast  extent  of  its  usefulness.  The  evaporation  of 
water  from  its  surface,  cleared  from  the  impurities  of  the 
land,  and  adapted  for  the  promoting  of  life  and  fertility, 
has  already  been  mentioned.  But  the  ocean  is  also  the 
grand  messenger  of  physical  nature:  that  general  law,  or 
phenomenon  of  the  constitution  of  matter,  (for  the  laws 
and  the  phenomena  of  nature  are  the  same)  by  which  the 
earth  is  maintained  in  its  orbit,  and  has  the  figure  and  con- 
sistency which  it  possesses,  and  by  which  the  objects  on  its 
surface  preserve  their  forms  and  their  places, — that  simple 
law  occasions  the  tides  of  the  ocean;  and  these,  by  moving 
in  the  very  directions  which  an  obedience  to  this  law  points 
out,  produce  currents,  by  means  of  which  there  is  a  con- 
stant circulation  of  the  waters  of  the  ocean  through  all  parts 
of  tlie  earth's  surface;  and  the  immediate  consequence  is 
an  equalization  of  warmth,  by  means  of  which,  the  ex- 
tremes, both  of  heat  and  cold,  are  mitigated,  and  the  gene- 
ral fertility  and  comfort  promoted. 


AN  INQUIRY  RESPECTING  THE  TRUE 
NATURE  OF  INSTINCT. 

BY  OLIVER  FRENCH,  Esq. 

The  mighty  and  various  powers  of  man  are  wonderfully 
imaged  forth  in  the  sensible  objects  that  surround  him; 
and,  in  the  march  of  science,  such  additional  evidences  are 
continually  elicited,  in  conformation  of  this  important  truth, 
that  we  may  perhaps  be  warranted  in  giving  a  philosophical 
assent  to  the  sentiment  of  the  poet, — 

That  for  the  Instructed,  lime  will  come 

When  Ihey  shall  meet  no  object  but  may  teach 
Some  acceptable  lesson  to  their  minds 
Of  human  sufiering^s,  or  of  human  joy, 
For  then  shall  all  things  speak  of  Man. 

WOEDSWOKTH. 

Nature's  wide  domain  indeed  exhibits  a  boundless  theatre, 
in  which  moral  and  intellectual  agency  is  ever  active  and 
employed; — strikingly  manifesting  its  presence  to  the  con- 
templative mind,  in  even  the  most  common  operations,  the 
results  of  which  have  been  denominated  fixed  laws:  for 
what  are  these  but  the  operations  of  such  agency  producing 
effects  for  particular  ends  and  purposes,  which  ends  and  pur- 
poses are  evidently  intended  to  be  subservient  to  the  appli- 
cation to  the  powers  of  the  human  mind,  in  the  adaptation 
Co 


of  all  lower  things  to  the  purposes  suggested  by  man's 
reason  in  all  the  various  products  of  the  arts  and  sciences. 
These  rise  like  a  new  creation  from  the  apparently  chaotic 
parts  of  Nature,  and  their  production  is  strictly  compre- 
hended within  the  universal  plan  of  the  Divine  Artificer, 
who  well  knows  how  much  to  do  for  man,  and  what  to 
leave  within  man's  province,  for  the  proper  exercise  of  the 
faculties  with  which  he  endows  him;  and  to  aid  him  in 
which  exercise,  Nature  is  thus  made  to  unfold  a  rich  and 
fertile  picture  of  moral  and  intellectual  qualities. 

It  would  appear  that  traces  of  the  delineation  here  alluded 
to  might  be  found  throughout  the  varied  products  of  Na- 
ture; but  in  the  animal  kingdom  we  find  a  broad  and  certain 
basis  for  induction — the  world  of  instinct,  in  which  the 
various  moral  and  intellectual  powers  of  man  are  symboli- 
cally reflected,  as  in  a  mirror,  even  to  his  entrance  into  a 
glorious  immortality.  In  this  great  division  of  the  lower 
creation,  the  qualities  of  foresight,  industry,  integrity,  jus- 
tice, and  order,  sociability  and  mutual  aid  and  protection, 
self-devotion  and  magnanimity,  are  imaged  forth  with  an 
astonishing  fidelity  and  touch  of  truth:  and  in  a  manner  no 
less  astonishing  and  faithful  are  displayed  the  opposites  of 
all  these, — improvidence,  idleness,  dishonesty,  injustice 
and  disorder,  unsociableness  and  mutual  disregard,  selfish- 
ness and  cowardice. 

To  the  contemplative  mind,  final  causes,  natural  and 
moral,  are  every  where  multiplied  to  the  view,  in  the  in- 
numerable parts  of  the  great  machinery  of  Creation.  How 
forcibly,  in  numerous  instances,  are  the  destroying  passions 
depicted;  and  how  finely  does  the  picture  set  oif  the  relative 
beauty  of  their  opposites — the  social  virtues,  which  in  the 
instincts  of  animals  are  not  less  faithfully  delineated. 

This  circumstance  is  really  so  striking,  that,  (if  such  an 
inquiry  could  be  entered  into  a  philosophical  dissertation) 
we  might  be  tempted  to  ask,  whether  these  passions  of  in- 
ordinate self-love,  giving  birth  to  offensive  violence,  are  not 
thus  exhibited  so  as  to  affect  the  outward  senses,  through 
the  medium  of  ferocious  animals,  in  order  to  furnish  us 
with  the  strongest  possible  perceptions  of  the  nature  of 
such  passions  in  ourselves.  But  the  creatures  themselves 
are  incapable  of  conceiving  any  thing  respecting  the  nature 
of  the  moral  and  intellectual  qualities  which  they  thus  ex- 
hibit,— to  them  virtue  and  vice  are  nothing:  they  are  indeed 
but  the  passive  mediums  in  which  those  qualities  are  repre- 
sented and  illustrated,  in  the  language  of  God  in  Nature, 
addressed  to  the  human  mind;  and  they  seem  to  be  but  as 
types  of  things — of  the  mighty  powers,  moral  and  intellec- 
tual, which  fill  the  mind  of  man,  who  alone  is  an  inhabitant 
of  the  moral  and  intellectual  world,  as  he  is  of  the  natural 
world. 

Man  was  called  by  the  ancients  a  Microcosm,  or  little 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


world, — that  is,  a  being  whose  moral  and  intellectual  powers 
are  represented  in  the  subjects  of  nature,  the  utilities  and 
ends  of  which  latter  are  reflected  in  him,  and,  as  a  final 
cause,  take  their  rise  and  origin  from  him,  in  the  scale  of 
creation:  and,  judging  from  all  that  has  been  said  upon  this 
subject,  there  can  be  little  doubt,  that  as  all  natural  things 
are  subservient  as  means  to  things  moral  and  intellectual, 
so  the  former,  as  much  as  possible,  would  seem  to  be  made 
the  emblems  and  representatives  in  which  the  latter  may 
be  contemplated. 

I  have  been  led  to  offer  these  remarks  on  the  final  causes 
of  lower  existence,  because  I  consider  that  they  are  so  con- 
nected with  the  question  of  instinct,  that,  taken  in  a  gene- 
ral point  of  view,  they  help  to  determine  what  sort  of 
limited  and  subservient  powers  the  brute  creation  may  be 
expected,  a  priori,  to  possess. 

The  above  idea  it  appears  very  necessary  to  keep  in  mind, 
to  prevent  us  from  assigning  to  brutes,  mental  attributes 
above  the  sphere  of  their  common  nature,  and  as  leading 
us  to  investigate  those  causes  which  alone  appear  properly 
and  rationally  adequate  to  the  production  of  the  wonderful 
system  and  order  observable  in  their  actions.  It  is  from 
failing  to  retain  steadily  in  the  mind's  view  this  necessary 
leading  principle,  that  we  are  led  into  erroneous  conclusions 
respecting  the  powers  of  the  brute  mind,  and  the  operative 
means  by  which  the  actions  of  brutes  are  effected;  which 
so  much  resemble  the  operations  of  human  intellect,  that  as 
before  observed,  they  may  be  said  to  represent  and  illus- 
trate them. 

On  this  account,  considerable  difficulty  has  been  found  in 
drawing  a  distinct  line  between  the  conscious  discrimina- 
tive powers  of  brutes,  and  those  of  human  rationality;  and 
in  affixing  a  true  character  to  the  mental  principles  in  which 
the  actions  of  the  brute  creation  originate. 

Now  it  seems  demonstrable  that  brutes  are  possessed  of  a 
limited  conscious  discrimination  and  determination;  which 
discrimination  and  determination  do  not,  however,  embrace 
what  is  either  moral,  intellectual,  or  rational,  as  regards  the 
consciousness  of  the  creature:  but  as  their  actions  involve 
in  them  causes  or  powers  that  are  evidently  of  a  moral,  in- 
tellectual, and  rational  order,  and  which  powers  evidently 
act  upon  the  mental  constitution  of  brutes  by  impressing 
and  guiding  their  conscious  powers  of  discrimination  and 
determination  to  action,  according  to  the  purposes  or  final 
causes  of  their  being: — it  maj-,  therefore,  be  justly  inferred 
that  the  Divine  Energy  does  in  reality  act,  not  imme- 
diately, but  mediately,  or  through  the  medium  of  moral 
and  intellectual  influences,  upon  the  nature  or  consciousness 
of  the  creature,  in  the  production  of  the  various,  and,  in 
many  instances,  truly  wonderful  actions  which  they  perform. 

If  it  be  asked  by  what  intermediate  agency  the  opera- 


tions of  brutes  are  thus  directed ; — I  reply  that  it  is  gene- 
rally admitted,  by  a  large  class  of  mankind,  at  least,  that 
superior  (yet  intermediate)  powers  of  some  kind,  are  in 
actual  connexion  with  the  human  mind, — though  not  lead- 
ing it  blindly,  as  might  be  supposed  to  be  the  case  with  re- 
gard to  brutes; — and  if  this  be  admitted,  there  remains  no 
reasonable  ground  for  denying  the  connexion  and  influence 
of  similar  powers,  (whatever  they  may  be),  operating  upon 
and  disposing  to  certain  ends  the  conscious  natures  of  brutes; 
which  natures,  if  we  suppose  them  destitute  of  moral  and 
intellectual  consciousness,  have  need  of  the  operation  of 
such  powers  to  direct  them.  The  phenomena  of  brute  ac- 
tion, indeed,  are  inexplicable  upon  any  other  grounds,  but 
these  once  admitted,  there  appears  to  be  nothing  in  the 
whole  circle  of  instinctive  operations  which  may  not  be 
satisfactorily  accounted  for.  I  will  not  even  venture  a  sug- 
gestion as  to  the  nature  of  the  intermediate  superior  powers 
here  alluded  to;  but  their  agency,  I  repeat,  is  plainly  mani- 
fest in  the  conduct  of  brutes. 

Viewed,  then,  in  this  light,  and  explained  in  this  man- 
ner, Providence  is  conspicuous  in  the  operations  of  brute 
nature;  and  it  is  but  reasonable  to  conclude  that  the  Divine 
Being  does  indeed  operate,  by  unseen  mediums,  of  what- 
ever kind  they  be,  as  the  Great  Regulator  of  the  whole. 

Facts  have  undoubtedly  occurred  to  exemplify  the  opera- 
tion of  such  agency  in  special  interferences  of  Providence, 
through  the  medium  of  the  brute  mind;  of  which  the  fol- 
lowing well  authenticated  instance  must  be  regarded  as  a 
very  striking  one. 

At  Ditchley,  near  Blenheim,  now  the  seat  of  Viscount 
Dillon,  but  formerly  of  the  Lees,  Earls  of  Lichfield,  is  a 
portrait  of  Sir  Henry  Lee,  by  Jansen,  with  that  of  a  mas- 
tiff dog  which  saved  his  life.  One  of  Sir  Henry's  servants 
had  formed  the  design  of  assassinating  his  master,  and  rob- 
bing the  house;  but  on  the  night  he  had  intended  to  perpe- 
trate it,  the  dog,  for  the  first  time,  followed  Sir  Henry  up 
stairs,  took  his  station  under  his  bed,  and  could  not  be 
driven  thence;  in  the  dead  of  the  night,  the  servant,  not 
knowing  the  dog  was  there,  entered  the  room  to  execute  his 
diabolical  purpose;  but  was  instantly  seized  by  the  dog,  and 
being  secured,  confessed  his  intentions.  In  a  corner  of  the 
picture  are  these  lines: 

But  in  my  do^,  whereof  I  made  no  store, 
I  find  more  love  than  those  I  trusted  more. 

What  an  instance  is  this  to  show  the  operation  of  a  supe- 
rior moral  and  intellectual  power  disposing  the  inclinations 
and  perceptions  of  an  animal,  for  a  stated  end;  while  the 
natural  volitions  of  the  creature,  were  at  the  same  time  ex- 
ercised by  it  in  freedom  towards  the  furtherance  of  this  end! 
Whether  we  suppose  the  immediate  means  made  use  of  to 
impress  the  animal's  conscious  mind,  to  be  that  of  an  ideal 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


103 


imagery  or  anticipated  view  of  the  intended  act,  with  its 
accompaniments,  the  darkness,  the  silence,  &c.  &c. — and 
that  when  it  really  did  begin  to  happen — when  the  man  ac- 
tually entered  the  room  at  midnight,  the  animal  seized  him 
as  described ; — or  in  whatever  way  we  regard  it  as  having 
been  efifected,  the  operation  of  an  intellectual  power  is  most 
unequivocal.  We  cannot  account  for  this  cool  and  dispas- 
sionate magnanimity,  which  renders  the  brute  animal  un- 
mindful of  itself,  while  extending  its  protection,  and  this 
with  discrimination  of  circumstances,  to  man,  unless  by  a 
directing  energy,  unseen  by  itself,  acting  upon  its  mind, 
and  disposing  it  to  use  its  immediate  conscious  faculties  in 
operating  according  to  a  particular  dictate;  the  animal,  as  to 
all  its  conscious  faculties  and  bodily  powers,  being  left  in 
perfect  freedom,  although  thus  overruled  by  a  presiding 
power,  of  which  it  is  totally  unconscious.  We  cannot 
otherwise  account  for  the  apparently  complex  nature  of 
brutes,  "which,"  as  beautifully  observed  by  Addison, 
"thus  rises  above  reason,  and  falls  infinitely  short  of  it," 
and  which  "  cannot  be  accounted  for  by  any  properties  of 
matter,  and  at  the  same  time  works  after  so  odd  a  manner, 
that  one  cannot  think  it  the  faculty,  {as  regards  the  crea- 
ture, he  might  have  added)  of  an  intellectual  being." 

According  to  the  view  above  taken,  then,  the  brute, 
within  the  sphere  of  its  consciousness,  is  in  perfect  free- 
dom; thus  it  is  by  no  means  an  automaton,  but  gifted  with 
a  subordinate  freedom  of  volition,  discrimination  and  action, 
beneath  the  moral  and  intellectual  sphere  by  wliich  it  is 
ruled  and  governed. 

The  foregoing,  however,  it  may  perhaps  be  said,  is  an 
extraordinary  instance  of  the  actions  of  instinct.  In  reply 
to  this,  the  question  may  be  asked, — are  not  the  most  com- 
mon and  ordinary  instances  of  instinctive  action  equally 
illustrative  of  an  intelligence  superior  to  the  conscious  fa- 
culties of  the  creature;  which  intelligence  must,  therefore, 
operate  upon  its  conscious  perception,  and  constitute,  as  it 
were,  theprimum  mobile,  actuating  and  impelling  it  to  the 
most  reasonable  and  circumstantial  course  of  action  that  can 
be  conceived,  for  arriving  at  the  fulfilment  of  the  ends  for 
which  it  is  brought  into  existence?  Does  the  spider,  in  the 
curious  act  of  weaving  its  web,  think  within  itself,  and 
say,  '  I  will  extend  my  threads  in  this  order,  and  connect 
and  tie  them  together  transversely,  to  secure  my  web  from 
tlie  rude  vibrations  of  the  air;  and  in  the  terminations  which 
constitute  the  central  point  of  my  web,  I  will  provide 
myself  a  seat,  where  I  may  sit  and  watch  what  happens, 
and  be  ready  to  seize  and  envelope  every  fly  that  is  caught 
in  my  trap? — Or  does  the  bee  reason  and  say  to  itself,  '  I 
will  take  my  flight  to  such  a  field,  where  I  know  there  is 
plenty  of  flowers,  and  I  will  gather  wax  and  honey  from 
them,  and  of  the  wax  I  will  build  contiguous  cells  in  a  par- 


ticular arrangement  and  form,  and  so  disposed,  that  I  and 
my  companions  may  have  free  ingress  and  egress,  and  in 
process  of  time  may  lay  up  a  large  store  of  honey,  sufficient 
for  our  necessities  during  the  approaching  winter,  that  we 
may  not  starve;  and  I  will  help  to  support,  like  a  good 
citizen,  the  political  and  economical  prudence  of  the  com- 
munity?' 

We  cannot  surely  conceive  any  such  process  of  reflection 
as  this  to  pervade  the  consciousness  of  the  creatures,  al- 
though their  acts  evidently  include  it  in  some  way  or  other; 
and  this  I  think  amounts  to  a  full  proof,  that  reasoning  is 
in  no  case  the  effect  of  instinct,  as  has  been  supposed  by 
some  philosophers;  for  it  determines  that  the  voluntary 
powers  of  animals,  may  be  most  forcibly  directed  to  a  par- 
ticular course  of  action,  without  any  reasonable  perception, 
either  of  the  act  or  of  its  consequences,  on  the  part  of  the 
animals  themselves;  and  shows  that  the  instinct  of  animals 
is  governed  by  the  influence  of  an  intelligence,  (acting  in 
this  case  according  to  an  uniform  mode  or  fixed  law,)  which 
cannot  be  ascribed  to  the  animals  themselves;  and  which 
evidently  acts  upon  them  above  the  sphere  of  their  proper 
consciousness.  The  same  arguments  are  applicable  to  those 
cases,  in  which  animals  appear  to  act  more  immediately 
from  the  exigency  of  circumstances,  that  in  these  also  they 
are  similarly  directed;  as  in  the  case  of  the  ostrich,  an  ap- 
parently stupid  bird,  which,  in  Senegal,  where  the  heat  is 
great,  sits  only  by  night,  when  the  coolness  of  the  air 
would  chill  the  eggs;  and  in  the  case  of  parent  birds,  when 
their  nestlings  are  confined  in  cages,  or  tied  to  the  nest;  in 
which  exigency,  the  old  ones  prolong  their  care,  and  con- 
tinue to  supply  them  with  food  beyond  the  accustomed  pe- 
riod.* It  thus  appears  clearly  evident,  I  think,  that  ani- 
mals do  not  act  with  a  view  to  consequences,  from  their 
own  proper  consciousness;  but  that  whenever  they  do  so 
act,  it  is  from  a  dictating  energy  operating  above  the  sphere 
of  their  consciousness,  and  disposing  them  so  to  do:  that 
the  business  of  mental  analysis  and  extraction,  is  perform- 
ed for  them,  as  it  were,  in  every  instance  in  which  they 
appear  to  exhibit  proofs  of  it;  and  that  properly  speaking, 
there  is  nothing  of  design  attributable  to  brutes  in  their  ac- 
tions, but  merely  a  subordinate  voluntary  principle,  and 
discriminative  perception,  which  may  be  termed  natural,  to 
distinguish  it  from  what  is  moral,  intellectual,  and  scienti- 


*  A  few  years  since  a  pair  of  sparrows  wliicli  had  buill  in  the  tliatch  roof  of  a 
house  at  Poole,  were  observed  to  continue  their  regular  visits  to  the  nest  long 
after  the  time  when  the  young  birds  take  flight.  This  unusual  circumstance  con- 
tinued throughout  the  year;  and  in  the  winter,  a  gentleman  who  had  all  along 
observed  them,  determined  on  investigating  its  cause.  He  therefore  mounted  a 
ladder,  and  found  one  of  the  young  ones  detained  a  prisoner,  by  means  of  a  piece 
of  string  or  worsted,  which  formed  part  of  the  nest,  having  become  accidentally 
twisted  round  its  leg.  Being  thus  incapacitated  for  procuring  its  own  subsist- 
ence, it  had  been  fed  by  the  continued  exertions  of  its  parents.    B. 


104 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


fie;  to  which  latter  principles  alone  design  can  properly  be 
referred.  If  the  appearances  of  design  in  the  animals  be 
taken  as  proofs  of  such  design  being  proper  to  them,  we 
must  be  forced  to  admit  that  they  are  possessed  of  moral, 
intellectual  and  scientific  reflection:  but  we  might,  upon 
this  principle,  argue  the  same  thing  of  the  plant,  which, 
when  placed  in  a  cellar  where  but  a  partial  light  is  admit- 
ted, turns  itself  towards  the  ray;  namely,  that  as  there  is 
the  appearance  of  design  in  the  action,  we  must  therefore 
attribute  design  to  the  subject  in  which  wc  perceive  its  ef- 
fects, and  thus  elevate  the  vegetable  to  the  intellectual 
sphere:  and  we  should  actually  do  this,  did  we  not  stop 
short  to  consider  the  adequacy  of  the  apparent  agent  to  the 
production  of  the  effect,  as  we  behold  it  performed. 

It  becomes  necessary,  then,  to  establish  a  test  whereby 
the  operation  of  the  moral,  intellectual  and  scientific  powers 
here  alluded  to,  may  be  ascertained;  and  whereby  the  line 
of  demarcation  may  be  distinctly  drawn  between  man  and 
brute.  This  test,  I  conceive,  is  included  in  the  following 
propositions;  viz.  1st,  That  moral  qualities  do  not  become 
objective  in  the  minds  of  brutes;  or,  that  the  moral  actions 
which  they  perform  are  not  reflected  upon  or  contrived  by 
them  as  such;  thus  that  they  possess  no  moral  conscious- 
ness, and  consequently  that  no  moral  design  can  be  attribut- 
ed to  them;  and  therefore,  that  so  much  of  moral  design  as 
appears  conspicuous  in  their  actions  must  be  the  effect  of 
moral  powers  or  energies  acting  upon  them  in  a  region  of 
their  minds  above  the  sphere  of  their  proper  consciousness. 
2d,  That  intellectual  and  scientific  qualities  do  not  become 
objective  in  the  minds  of  brutes;  or,  that  the  intellectual  and 
scientific  actions  which  they  perform,  are  not  reflected  upon 
or  contrived  by  them  as  such;  thus  that  they  possess  no  in- 
tellectual or  scientific  consciousness,  and  consequently  that 
no  intellectual  or  scientific  design  can  be  attributed  to  them: 
and  therefore  that  so  much  of  intellectual  or  scientific  de- 
sign as  appears  conspicuous  in  their  actions,  must  be  the  ef- 
fect of  intellectual  and  scientific  powers  or  energies,  acting 
upon  them  in  a  region  of  their  minds  above  the  sphere  of 
their  proper  consciousness. 

Admiring  and  respecting  as  I  do  the  endeavours  of  all 
who  are  engaged  in  the  promotion  of  philosophic  inquiries, 
I  cannot  but  think,  that  in  the  particular  subject  before  us, 
too  much  has  been  done  to  confound  the  natures  of  man 
and  brute,  and  to  separate  both  from  the  Fountain  of  their 
existence.  Man  is  what  he  is,  and  derives  his  superiority 
over  the  brute  creation,  from  the  circumstance  that  all 
things  whatever  become  morally  and  scientifically  objective 
to  him;  and  the  brute  is  what  he  is,  and  derives  his  infe- 
riority, from  the  total  absence  of  this  distinguished  and  en- 
nobling faculty.  It  is  true  that  many  specious  arguments 
may  be  and  have  been  advanced  to  prove  that  the  brutes 


participate  in  human  rationality,  in  kind,  if  not  in 
but  the  ends  which  their  natures  are  evidently  destined  to 
fulfil,  would  be,  one  might  imagine,  alone  sufiicient  to  re- 
fute the  supposition.  For  it  is  but  reasonable  to  conclude, 
that  the  conscious  powers  of  the  creature  will  be  according 
to  the  ends  of  its  existence  ;  and  as  these  ends  are  in 
the  brute  creation  neither  moral  nor  scientific,  but  pure- 
ly natural,  and,  as  regards  themselves,  only  subser- 
vient to  what  is  moral  and  scientific,  it  thence  would  follow 
that  they  are  not  possessed  in  themselves  of  any  moral,  in- 
tellectual, or  scientific  conscious  powers; — and  are  there- 
fore merely  natural  agents  of  a  secondary  class,  in  which 
such  powers  are  exhibited. 

I  proceed  to  consider  the  first  of  the  foregoing  proposi- 
tions. When  we  investigate  the  many  and  surprising  in- 
stances in  which  the  operations  of  the  brute  creation  imply 
moral  intention,  reflection,  and  contrivance,  we  are  at  no 
loss  to  account  for  the  opinion  of  that  class  of  philosophers, 
who  have  attributed  the  mental  inferiority  of  brutes  to  the 
mere  want  of  adequate  bodily  organs;  nevertheless,  the  in- 
tellectual consciousness  of  man  shrinks  from  the  acknow- 
ledgment that  in  one  common  principle  of  life  originate  the 
actions  of  man  and  brute:  and  that  brutes,  as  to  their  mental 
constitution,  are  thus,  as  it  were,  "  human  imps  lopt  off 
from  the  common  stock  of  intellect  and  rationality." 
There  is  something  which  seems  powerfully  to  oppose  the 
sentiment  of  sharing  those  high  endowments  with  crea- 
tures of  so  inferior  a  nature  ;  and  which  irresistibly  leads 
us  seriously  to  examine  the  arguments  which  may  be 
offered  to  prove  that  moral  and  intellectual  powers  reign 
over  the  conscious  perception  of  the  brute,  and  guide  it  to 
its  proper  exercise  of  those  lower  faculties,  which  it  is  left 
in  freedom  to  use.  The  bee,  we  say,  is  a  perfect  political 
moralist,  with  respect  to  its  actions,  which  evince  the  strict- 
est attention  to  the  principles  of  order  and  economy,  for 
the  purposes  of  the  establishment  and  preservation  of  a 
community;  yet  it  is  totally  ignorant  and  unconscious  of 
the  very  principles  which  it  is  so  assiduous  in  the  practice 
of; — not  a  ray  of  moral  perception  or  consciousness  can  be 
attributed  to  it  in  a  proper  sense;  it  is,  on  the  contrary,  to- 
tally destitute  of  the  means  of  discerning  or  reflecting  upon 
the  nature  or  order  of  the  ends  it  is  instrumental  in  accom- 
plishing, through  the  medium  of  its  subordinate  voluntary 
perceptions  and  powers. — Although  it  is  in  the  habit  of  ex- 
ercising the  most  accurate  science  and  means,  for  the  fulfil- 
ment of  these  ends,  it  yet  cannot  look  down  with  an  ap- 
proving or  disapproving  perception  upon  the  region  or 
sphere  of  its  natural  powers;  it  evidently  has  no  perception 
of  any  moral  superiority  in  itself  over  the  most  vulgar 
worm  that  crawls.  But  if  brute  creatures  were  capable  of 
moral  consciousness,  they  would  be  capable  of  elevation  in 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


the  scale  of  being;  and  this  little  insect,  the  bee,  judging 
from  its  actions,  would,  were  it  capable  of  that  species  of 
consciousness,  not  only  rank  above  most  of  the  larger  classes 
of  animals,  but  would,  on  the  score  of  fidelity  and  integ- 
rity, put  human  nature  to  the  blush. 

Were  it  not  that  much  has  been  said  in  favour  of  the  al- 
leged moral  consciousness  of  brutes,  it  might  perhaps  be  im- 
pertinent to  proceed  further  in  the  endeavour  to  disprove  it; 
but  so  strong  are  appearances  in  its  favour,  that,  although 
we  deny  the  affirmative  in  the  abstract,  by  an  unequivocal 
assent  to  the  proposition,  that  brutes  are  not  accountable 
beings;  yet  we  are  too  ready  to  admit  it  in  particular  in- 
stances, in  which  we  are  wont  to  ascribe  a  moral  conscious- 
ness to  the  particular  moral  action  we  see  performed  by  an 
animal.  There  is  a  strong  tendency  to  mistake  the  cause 
Instrumental  for  the  cause  principal,  in  this  as  in  other 
cases;  by  which  we  ai-e  insensibly  led  to  assign  the  sum 
total  of  the  attribute  to  the  visible  agent,  without  stopping 
to  consider  further  of  the  matter.  Thus  gratitude,  which 
is  a  moral  quality  in  man,  is  thought  to  be  moral  also  in  the 
dog;  but  surely  no  one,  upon  mature  consideration  of  the 
subject,  will  imagine  that  the  dog  reflects  on  the  inclination 
or  desire  he  feels  to  act  in  a  manner  which  we  view  as  grate- 
ful, and  that  he  is  pleased  with  the  survey  and  reflection; — 
tliat  the  moral  quality  of  his  actions  becomes  objective  to 
him; — and  yet  tliis  is  absolutely  necessary  in  order  to  con- 
stitute a  moral  consciousness;  for,  to  eflect  this,  it  is  not 
only  necessary  that  the  action  be  outwardly,  or  in  effect 
moral,  but  that  this  moral  action  be  reflected  upon  as  such, 
in  order  that  its  moral  quality  may  be  thus  perceived  and 
felt.  Moral  consciousness  can  only  be  produced  by  the 
moral  quality  of  the  action  becoming  objective — by  its  being 
reflected  upon  from  a  superior  eminence,  and  in  a  superior 
light, — by  a  soul  within  and  above  the  lower,  animal,  or 
natural  mind.  But  that  brutes  do  not  possess  this  higher 
conscious  faculty,  or  soul,  is  made  evident  by  this; — that  if 
a  particular  individual  of  a  species  did  possess  it,  such  indi- 
vidual would  be  necessarily  raised  by  it,  as  to  its  nature, 
which  does  not,  in  any  case,  occur.  Thus,  with  respect  to 
the  gratitude  and  fidelity  of  the  dog,  no  greater  apparent 
moral  sagacity  can  be  exercised  by  any  animal;  yet  being 
totally  unable  to  contemplate  his  gratitude  or  fidelity  in  the 
abstract,  as  objects  of  a  superior  perception  and  conscious- 
ness, those  virtues  are  to  him  as  if  they  existed  not: — to 
man  alone  this  moral  consciousness  is  proper,  to  the  animal 
it  is  absolutely  a  nonentity;  he  is  not  in  the  smallest  degree 
more  moral  on  account  of  his  apparent  moral  qualities,  for 
they  are  indeed  only  apparently  his  own,  because  they  do 
not  reach  down,  if  I  may  be  allowed  the  expression,  to  the 
seat  of  his  proper  consciousness;  but  consist  in  powers  or 
energies  which  act  above  it:  he  possesses  an  apparent 
Dd 


moral  sagacity,  but  without  any  moral  consciousness  or  per- 
ception concerning  it.  To  make  this  plain  by  an  example: 
the  dog,  if  he  saves  his  master  from  drowning,  or  preserves 
his  life  in  any  more  remarkable  manner,  such  as  that  in  the 
instance  we  have  before  related,  reflects  not  upon  any 
moral  nobleness  or  disinterestedness  in  the  action;  he  is  not 
at  all  the  more  refined  for  having  performed  an  action, 
which,  morally  considered,  would  tend  to  raise  his  nature; 
on  the  contrary,  he  lives  on  as  before,  like  the  rest  of  his 
canine  brethren,  in  no  respect  more  elevated  in  the  scale 
of  being:  and  yet  it  is  certain  that  in  this  action  his  highest 
natural  powers  of  proper  volition,  and  mental  discrimina- 
tion and  comparison,  which  we  may  term  moral  sagacity, 
have  been  brought  into  full  exercise. 

But  it  will,  perhaps,  be  objected,  that  animals  experience 
delight  in  the  exercise  of  moral  qualities,  as  such;  the  dog, 
for  instance,  in  gratitude.  I  answer,  that  every  animal 
must  necessarily  have  a  delight  annexed  to  that  exercise  of 
its  powers  by  which  it  fulfils  the  end  of  its  being:  and  the 
dog,  as  the  natural  guardian  of  man,  has  natural  inclinations 
implanted  in  him,  for  the  purpose  of  rendering  him  such; 
but  his  delight  in  the  exercise  of  the  inclinations,  even 
when  they  are  directed  to  moral  acts,  is  purely  natural, 
and  in  no  wise  'moral:  for,  as  already  observed,  no  one  in 
tliis  case  will  imagine  that  the  dog  either  reflects  upon  his 
gratitude,  or  is  pleased  with  it  as  a  moral  quality.  On  the 
contrary,  it  is  plain  that  the  animal's  delight  is  solely  owing 
to  its  conscious  mind  being  determined  to  the  exercise  of 
its  natural  qualities  or  inclinations,  which  are  those  of  mo- 
rally unconscious  obedience  and  friendship  to  man;  this 
being  the  end  for  which  he  is  created. 

The  horse,  who  in  his  aptitude  for  war,  discovers  a 
quality  necessary  to  render  him  instrumental  in  redress- 
ing the  injuries  of  man,  is  characterised  as  an  emulous  and 
a  generous  animal;  yet  neither  generosity  nor  emulation, 
considered  as  moral  qualities,  are  objects  of  reflection  to 
him;  if  they  were,  miserable  indeed  would  be  the  fate  of 
the  devoted  charger,  whose  latter  existence  is  spent  in  the 
metamorphosis  of  a  poor,  patient,  unpitied  hack.  But  in 
the  adorable  economy  of  the  Creator,  it  is  provided  that 
the  sufierings  of  this  noble  animal  shall  be  natural  merely: 
he  is  incapable  of  being  made  conscious  by  reflection,  either 
of  the  generosity,  the  emulation,  or  the  pride,  which  his 
actions  may  have  exhibited:  although  he  has  shown  them 
all,  they  have  not  become  objective  to  him,  inasmuch  as  he 
is  unfurnished  with  a  morally  conscious  soul,  by  which 
alone  this  could  be  effected;  and  it  is  happy  for  him  that 
neither  glory  nor  emulation  can  be  attributed  to  him,  other- 
wise than  as  the  unconscious  subject  in  which  those  high 
qualities  are  exhibited. 

The  mutual  fidelity  between  the  sexes,  observable  in 


106 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


doves  and  other  birds,  forms  a  distinguished  feature  in  them  in  as  many  strange  nests,  belonging  to  these  little 
moral  instinct;  yet  we  cannot  suppose  that  the  virtue  of  birds;  for  she  never  builds  herself:  she  acts,  in  fact,  as  if 
chastity  or  of  conjugal  fidelity  is  at  all  intended  by  the  crea-  she  calculated  exactly  what  should  and  what  would  be 
ture,  or  attributable  to  it;  although  its  actions  are  precisely  done  by  others,  for  the  rearing  of  her  progeny.  Another 
the  same  as  if  such  moral  end  were  contemplated  and  in-  very  curious  circumstance  noticed  by  Dr.  Jenner,  in  con- 
tended by  it:  the  polygamous  species,  indeed,  have  a  claim  nection  with  his  remarks  on  the  natural  history  of  the 
equally  as  good  as  the  monogamous,  to  the  virtue  of  chastity,  cuckoo,  is  the  power  exercised  by  birds, — which,  he  says, 
as  far  as  regards  their  oivn  conscious  nature.  But  surely  may  arise  from  "  so7ne  hidden  cause  in  the  animal  econo- 
there  must  be  moral  powers  which  act  upon  and  guide  the  my," either  of  retarding  or  of  accelerating  the  pro- 
natures  of  animals  in  order  to  produce  these  eflects,  while  duction  of  their  eggs,  according  to  circumstances.  Moral 
the  creature  is  accessary,  in  apparent  freedom,  and  uncon-  and  intellectual  design  and  active  energy,  above  the  con- 
scious of  the  power  thus  exerted  on  it;  the  wonderful  ex-  scious  faculties  of  the  creature,  is  surely  evident  in  all  this; 
hibition  of  conjugal  and  social  affections  in  some  species  of  for  the  creature  is  not  a  mere  piece  of  mechanism,  but  has 
marine  animals,  in  the  Trichechi  Boreales,  for  instance,  is  a  manifest  conscious  freedom  in  the  performance  of  its 
altogether  superior  to  what  can  be  explained  upon  any  other  peculiar  natural  acts;  but  which  freedom  is  thus  as  mani- 
principles;  they  will  die  in  protecting  their  mates  and  each  festly  controlled  by  superior  influences,  of  which  it  is  un- 
other.  In  their  manners  they  are  peaceable  and  harmless,  conscious.  How,  otherwise,  can  we  possibly  account  for 
bearing  the  strongest  attachment  to  each  other;  but  when  the  incessant  endeavours  of  the  young  cuckoo  to  dislodge 
attacked,  some  will  strive  to  overset  the  boat,  by  going  be-  its  fellow  inmates  of  the  nest,  while,  as  yet,  it  has  scarcely 
neathit;  others  fling  themselves  on  the  rope  of  the  hook  by  extricated  itself  from  the  egg:  it  cannot  reflect  upon  the 
which  their  comrade  is  held,  and  endeavour  to  break  it;  necessity  of  its  operations,  either  for  ultimate  preservation, 
while  others  again  make  efforts  to  wrench  the  instrument  or  for  present  convenience;  yet  it  acts  as  if  it  did,  and 
out  of  the  body  of  their  wounded  companion:  none  desert  takes  the  most  effectual  means  for  the  accomplishment  of 
him,  but  persist  in  their  courageous  efforts  for  his  rescue,  those  ends.  Will  those  who  attribute  design  to  such  ac- 
even  to  the  last!  Their  attachment  to  their  mates  is,  if  tions,  say,  that  the  design  of  taking  the  immediate  steps 
possible,  still  more  astonishing,  and  cannot  be  contemplated  necessary  for  the  preservation  of  the  creature  can  reside 
without  exciting  the  most  vivid  S3^mpathy  and  admiration,  within  its  own  consciousness?  It  surely  cannot. — The 
It  is  indeed  the  most  perfect  lesson  of  fidelity  and  heroic  final  purposes  which  are  the  primary  motives  of  its  ac- 
devotion.  If  in  this  case  we  could  suppose  the  creatures  tions,  are  far  above  what  it  can  either  conceive  or  survey; 
capable  of  reflecting  upon  the  nature  of  their  actions,  which  otherwise  the  cuckoo  must  indeed  be  a  "  rara  avis  in  ter- 
are  the  evident  results  of  a  moral  influence,  what  must  we  ris,"  a  feathered  philosopher  of  no  mean  or  despicable 
think  of  them? — or   rather,  what   must  we  not  think  of    talent. 

them?  For  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  this  conduct  is  ac?a/;f-  One  of  the  strongest  instances  of  apparent  moral  sa- 
ed  to  circumstances,  and  discovers  an  apparent  rational  gacity,  is  that  well-known  one  recorded  of  the  elephant, 
discrimination,  as  well  as  an  apparent  moral  conscious-  which  is  said  to  have  taken  place  in  Delhi.  An  elephant 
ness,  in  the  means  employed  by  the  creatures  towards  the  having  killed  his  Cornac,  or  governor,  it  is  related  that  the 
accomplishment  of  the  ends  which  the  exigency  suggests.  man's  wife,  in  despair,  threw  her  two  children  before  the 
The  controlling  energies  which  direct  the  limited  con-  animal,  saying,  "  Now  you  have  destroyed  their  father, 
scious  powers  of  brute  creatures  to  particular  ends,  are  you  may  as  well  put  an  end  to  their  lives  and  mine," — 
wonderfully  displayed  again  in  the  economy  of  the  cuckoo,  upon  which  the  animal,  relenting,  and  taking  up  the  big- 
which  lays  its  eggs  in  the  nest  of  the  hedge-sparrow,  and  in  gest  of  the  children  with  his  trunk,  placed  him  upon  his 
those  of  other  small  birds;  these  birds,  so  far  from  molest-  neck,  and  having  thus  adopted  him  for  his  Cornac,  would 
ing  the  young  intruder, — who,  in  a  singularly  curious  man-  never  afterwards  permit  any  other  person  to  mount  him. 
ner,  expels  its  companions,  the  small  birds'  progeny,  from  In  this  case  we  cannot  suppose  the  animal  to  have  reflected 
the  nest,  in  order  that  itself  may  be  exclusively  and  ade-  upon  the  deed  of  slaughter  he  had  committed  as  lorong, 
quately  fed  by  the  parents, — feed  and  cherish  it,  till  it  ar-  nor  upon  the  act  of  atonement  or  reconciliation  as  right, 
rives  at  nearly  its  full  growth;  that  is,  until  it  is  four  or  without  making  him  an  accountable  agent;  there  are,  how- 
five  times  the  size  of  the  foster-parents.  The  cuckoo,  as  ever,  the  strongest  possible  features  of  right  and  wrong,  in 
if  conscious  that  one  of  her  overgrown  nurslings  would  be  the  two  acts  and  their  attendant  circumstances,  which  must 
quite  sufficient  for  tlie  hedge-sparrow  or  wagtail  to  attend  unquestionably  belong  to  an  agency  above  the  proper  con- 
to  and  provide  for,  although  she  lays  several  eggs,  deposits     sciousness  of  the  creature.     For  we  have  here  a  case  of 


AND  A]VIERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


107 


moral  exigency,  and  also  of  reasoning  and  intellectual  exi- 
gency; so  much  of  moral  and  intellectual  motive  adapted 
to  the  circumstances  and  moral  requirement  of  the  case, 
that  if  the  cause  principal  be  referred  to  any  power  within 
the  consciousness  of  the  creature,  we  must  inevitably  pro- 
nounce it  to  be  a  moral  and  intellectual  being.  But  surely 
we  shall  not  assert  this  from  the  mere  appearance  of  the 
thing,  and  without  reference  to  the  general  quality  of  the 
animal's  nature  as  a  ivhole,  which  clearly,  and  for  the 
reasons  I  have  already  dwelt  upon,  marks  its  limit,  and  de- 
signates it  to  be  neither  moral  nor  intellectual  as  to  its  pro- 
per consciousness  ; — thus  not  at  all  so  in  itself,  but  only 
apparently  so,  by  being  acted  upon  by  some  power  or 
agency  aljove  the  stream  of  its  consciousness;  and  which 
agency  must  unquestionably  be  of  a  moral  and  intellectual 
character,  or  it  never  could  impel  the  animal  to  the  exercise 
of  those  powers  of  which  it  is  conscious,  in  the  perform- 
ance of  actions  possessing  the  strongest  possible  moral  cha- 
racteristics. (  To  be  Continued.) 


DWARFS. 


Among  the  varieties  of  nature  in  the  human  species,  we 
may  reckon  Dwarfs  and  Giants.  Deceived  by  some  optical 
illusion,  the  ancient  historians  gravely  mention  whole  na- 
tions of  pigmies  as  existing  in  remote  quarters  of  the  world. 
The  more  accurate  observations  of  the  moderns,  however, 
convince  us  that  these  accounts  are  entirely  fabulous. 

The  existence,  therefore,  of  a  pigmy  race  of  mankind, 
being  founded  in  error  or  in  fable,  we  can  expect  to  find 
men  of  diminutive  stature  only  by  accident,  among  men  of 
the  ordinary  size.  Of  these  accidental  dwarfs,  every  coun- 
try, and  almost  every  village  can  produce  numerous  in- 
stances. There  was  a  time  when  these  unfavourable  chil- 
dren of  Nature  were  the  peculiar  favourites  of  the  great, 
and  no  prince,  or  nobleman,  thought  himself  completely 
attended,  unless  he  had  a  dwarf  among  the  number  of  his 
domestics.  These  poor  little  men  were  kept  to  be  laughed 
at,  or  to  raise  the  barbarous  pleasure  of  their  masters,  by 
their  contrasted  inferiority.  Even  in  England,  as  late  as 
the  time  of  King  James  the  First,  the  court  was  at  one  time 
furnished  with  a  dwarf,  a  giant,  and  a  jester.  These  the 
king  often  took  a  pleasure  in  opposing  to  each  other,  and 
often  fomented  quarrels  among  them,  in  order  to  be  a  con- 
cealed spectator  of  their  animosity. 

It  was  in  the  same  spirit  that  Peter  of  Russia,  in  the 
year  1710,  celebrated  a  marriage  of  dwarfs.  This  monarch, 
though  raised  by  his  native  genius  far  above  a  barbarian, 
was,  nevertheless,  still  many  degrees  removed  from  actual 


refinement.  His  pleasures,  therefore,  were  of  the  vulgar 
kind;  and  this  was  among  the  number.  Upon  a  certain 
day,  which  he  had  ordered  to  be  proclaimed  several  months 
before,  he  invited  the  whole  body  of  his  courtiers,  and  all 
the  foreign  ambassadors,  to  be  present  at  the  marriage  of  a 
pigmy  man  and  woman.  The  preparations  for  this  wedding 
were  not  only  very  grand,  but  executed  in  a  style  of  bar- 
barous ridicule.  He  ordered,  that  all  the  dwarf  men  and 
women,  within  two  hundred  miles,  should  repair  to  the 
capital;  and  also  insisted,  that  they  should  be  present  at  the 
ceremony.  For  this  purpose,  he  supplied  them  with  proper 
vehicles;  but  so  contrived  it,  that  one  horse  was  seen  car- 
rying a  dozen  of  them  into  the  city  at  once,  while  the  mob 
followed  shouting  and  laughing  from  behind.  Some  of 
them  were  at  first  unwilling  to  obey  an  order,  which  they 
knew  was  calculated  to  turn  them  into  ridicule,  and  did  not 
come;  but  he  soon  obliged  them  to  obey;  and,  as  a  punish- 
ment, enjoined  that  they  should  wait  upon  the  rest  at  din- 
ner. The  whole  company  of  dwarfs  amounted  to  seventy, 
beside  the  bride  and  bridegroom,  who  were  richly  adorned, 
and  in  the  extremity  of  the  fashion.  For  this  company  in 
miniature,  every  thing  was  suitably  provided;  a  low  table, 
small  plates,  little  glasses,  and,  in  short,  every  thing  was 
so  fitted,  as  if  all  things  had  been  dwindled  to  their  own 
standard.  It  was  his  great  pleasure  to  see  their  gravity 
and  their  pride;  the  contention  of  the  women  for  places, 
and  the  men  for  superiority.  This  point  he  attempted  to 
adjust,  by  ordering  that  the  most  diminutive  should  take 
the  lead;  but  this  bred  disputes,  for  none  would  then  con- 
sent to  sit  foremost.  All  this,  however,  being  at  last  set- 
tled, dancing  followed  the  dinner,  and  the  ball  was  opened 
with  a  minuet  by  the  bridegroom,  who  measured  exactly 
three  feet  two  inches  high.  In  the  end  matters  were  so 
contrived,  that  this  little  company,  who  met  together  in 
gloomy  pride,  and  unwilling  to  be  pleased,  being  at  last  fa- 
miliarized to  laughter,  joined  in  the  diversion,  and  became, 
as  the  journalist  tells  us,  extremely  sprightly  and  entertain- 
ing. 

But  the  most  complete  history  of  a  dwarf  is  preserved 
by  M.  Daubenton,  in  his  Natural  History.  This  dwarf, 
whose  name  was  Baby,  was  well  known,  having  spent  the 
greatest  part  of  his  life  at  Luneville,  in  the  palace  of  Stan- 
islaus, the  titular  king  of  Poland.  He  was  born  in  the  vil- 
lage of  Plaisne,  in  France,  in  the  year  1741.  His  father 
and  mother  were  peasants,  both  of  good  constitutions,  and 
inured  to  a  life  of  husbandry  and  labour.  Bab}',  when  born, 
weighed  but  a  pound  and  a  quarter.  We  are  not  informed 
of  the  dimensions  of  his  body  at  that  time,  but  we  may 
conjecture  they  were  very  small,  as  he  was  presented  on  a 
plate  to  be  baptized,  and  for  a  long  time  lay  in  a  slipper. 
His  mouth,  although  proportioned  to  the  rest  of  his  body. 


'■iki 


108 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


was  not,  at  that  time,  large  enough  to  take  in  the  nipple; 
and  he  was,  therefore,  obliged  to  be  suckled  by  a  she-goat 
that  was  in  the  house;  and  that  served  as  a  nurse,  attending 
to  his  cries  with  a  kind  of  maternal  fondness.  He  began 
to  articulate  some  words  when  eighteen  months  old;  and 
at  two  years  he  was  able  to  walk  alone.  He  was  then  fitted 
with  shoes  that  were  about  an  inch  and  a  half  long.  He 
was  attacked  with  several  acute  disorders;  but  the  small- 
pox was  the  only  one  which  left  any  marks  behind  it. 
Until  he  was  six  years  old,  he  ate  no  other  food  but  pulse, 
potatoes,  and  bacon.  His  father  and  mother  were,  from 
their  povert}',  incapable  of  affording  him  any  better  nour- 
ishment; and  his  education  was  little  better  than  his  food, 
being  bred  up  among  the  rustics  of  the  place.  At  six  years 
old  he  was  about  fifteen  inches  high;  and  his  whole  body 
weighed  but  thirteen  pounds.  Notwithstanding  this,  he 
was  well  proportioned  and  handsome;  his  health  was  good, 
but  his  understanding  scarcely  passed  the  bounds  of  instinct. 
It  was  at  that  time  that  the  king  of  Poland,  having  heard  of 
such  a  curiosity,  had  him  conveyed  to  Luneville,  gave  him 
the  name  of  Baby,  and  kept  him  in  his  palace. 

Baby,  having  thus  quitted  the  hard  condition  of  a  pea- 
sant, to  enjoy  all  the  comforts  and  the  conveniences  of  life, 
seemed  to  receive  no  alteration  from  his  new  way  of  living, 
either  in  mind  or  person.  He  preserved  the  goodness  of 
his  constitution  till  about  the  age  of  sixteen,  but  his  body 
seemed  to  increase  very  slowly  during  the  whole  time; 
and  his  stupidity  was  such,  that  all  instructions  were  lost  in 
improving  his  understanding.  He  could  never  be  brought 
to  have  any  sense  of  religion,  nor  even  to  show  the  least 
signs  of  a  reasoning  faculty.  They  attempted  to  teach 
him  dancing  and  music,  but  in  vain;  he  never  could  make 
any  thing  of  music;  and  as  for  dancing,  although  he  beat 
time  with  tolerable  exactness,  yet  he  could  never  remember 
the  figure,  but  while  his  dancing-master  stood  by  to  direct 
his  motions.  Notwithstanding,  a  mind  thus  destitute  of 
understanding  was  not  without  its  passions,  anger  and 
jealousy. 

At  the  age  of  sixteen,  Baby  was  twenty-nine  inches  high; 
at  this  he  rested;  but  having  thus  arrived  at  his  acme,  the 
alterations  of  puberty,  or  rather,  perhaps,  of  old  age, 
came  fast  upon  him.  From  being  very  beautiful,  the  poor 
little  creature  now  became  quite  deformed;  his  strength 
quite  forsook  him;  his  back  bone  to  bend;  his  head  hung 
forward;  his  legs  grew  weak;  one  of  his  shoulders  turned 
awry,  and  his  nose  grew  disproportionably  large.  With 
his  strength,  his  natural  spirits  also  forsook  him;  and,  by 
the  time  he  was  twenty,  he  was  grown  feeble,  decripid, 
and  marked  with  the  strongest  impression  of  old  age.  It 
had  been  before  remarked  by  some,  that  he  would  die  of 
old  age  before  he  arrived  at  thirty;  and,  in  fact,  by  the 


time  he  was  twenty-two,  he  could  scarcely  walk  a  hun- 
dred paces,  being  worn  with  the  multiplicity  of  his  years, 
and  bent  under  the  burthen  of  protracted  life.  In  this  year 
he  died;  a  cold,  attended  with  a  slight  fever,  threw  him 
into  a  kind  of  lethargy,  which  had  a  few  momentary  inter- 
vals; but  he  could  scarcely  be  brought  to  speak.  However, 
it  is  asserted  that  in  the  last  five  days  of  his  life,  he  showed 
a  clearer  understanding  than  in  his  times  of  best  health: 
but  at  length  he  died,  after  enduring  great  agonies,  in  the 
twenty-second  year  of  his  age. 

Baby,  it  is  evident,  was  a  creature  calculated  rather  to 
excite  pity  or  disgust  than  any  other  feeling, — a  being  as 
stunted  in  mind  as  in  bod}^.  But  to  these  diminutive  beings 
Nature  does  not  always  forget  to  give  intellectual  faculties. 
Jeffery  Hudson,  to  whom  Buffon  alludes  as  the  dwarf  of 
the  English  court,  was  a  brave  and  intelligent  man.  He 
killed,  in  a  duel,  Mr.  Cutts,  who  had  insulted  him;  and  he 
served  as  a  captain  in  the  royal  army.  In  modern  times, 
we  have  seen  an  instance  of  a  dwarf  possessed  of  every 
mental  and  personal  accompJishment.  Count  Borulawski 
was  the  son  of  a  Polish  nobleman  attached  to  the  party  of 
King  Stanislaus,  and  who  lost  his  property  in  consequence 
of  that  attachment.  His  father  had  six  children,  three 
dwarfs,  and  three  of  the  ordinary  stature;  and  it  is  a  singu- 
lar circumstance,  that  they  were  born  alternately,  a  big  and 
a  little  one.  The  count's  youngest  sister,  who  died  at  the 
age  of  twenty-three,  was  of  a  much  more  diminutive  size 
than  he  was.  He  grew  till  he  was  thirty,  when  he  was 
three  feet  two  inches  in  height.  The  proportions  of  his 
figure  were  perfectly  correct,  which  is  rarely  the  case  with 
dwarfs,  and  his  look  was  manly  and  noble.  His  manners 
were  full  of  grace  and  politeness;  his  temper  was  good; 
and  he  possessed  a  lively  wit,  united  with  an  excellent 
memory  and  a  sound  judgment.  Till  the  age  of  forty-one, 
he  lived,  in  the  enjo)-ment  of  perfect  health,  and  of  all  the 
comforts  of  life,  under  the  patronage  of  a  lady  who  was  a 
friend  of  the  family.  He  then  married  a  lady,  of  the  mid- 
dle size,  by  whom  he  had  three  children,  none  of  whom 
were  dwarfs.  To  procure  the  means  of  subsistence  for  his 
family,  he  at  first  gave  concerts  in  the  principal  cities  of 
Germany;  on  which  occasions  he  played  upon  the  guitar, 
of  which  instrument  he  was  a  perfect  master.  At  Vienna 
he  was  persuaded  to  turn  his  thoughts  to  England,  where 
it  was  supposed  that  the  public  curiosity  would  in  a  little 
time  benefit  him  sufliciently  to  enable  him  to  live  inde- 
pendent in  a  country  so  cheap  as  Poland.  Borulawski  ac- 
cordingly visited  England,  where  he  was  admired,  and  ex- 
tensively patronized,  by  the  nobility  and  gentry.  He 
exhibited  himself  in  most  of  the  principal  cities  and  towns, 
and  wherever  he  went  he  gained  friends.  Borulawski  died 
a  few  years  since.   He  published  his  own  Memoirs.  Buffon. 


ariffon      Vulture 


I 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


109 


GOOSANDER. 


MERGUS  MERGJINSER. 

[Plate  X.— Male.] 

VHarle,  Briss  iv.  p.  231.  1.  pi.  22. — Buff,  viii,  p. 
267.  pi.  23. — Arct.  Zool.  No.  465.— Lath.  Syn.  in. 
p.  418.  Mergus  Merganser,  Gmel,  Syst.  i.  p.  544. 
No.  2.— Lath.  Ind.  Orn.  p.  828,  No.  l.—Le  Harle, 
Buff.  PI.  Enl.  951,  male. — Grand  Harle,  Temm. 
Man  d'Orn.  p.  881. — J.  Doughty's  Collection. 

This  large  and  handsomely  marked  bird  belongs  to  a 
genus  different  from  that  of  the  Duck,  on  account  of  the 
particular  form  and  serratures  of  its  bill.  The  genus  is  cha- 
racterised as  follows:  ^^  Bill  toothed,  slender,  cylindrical, 
hooked  at  the  point;  nostrils  small,  oval,  placed  in  the 
middle  of  the  bill;  feet  four  toed,  the  outer  toe  longest." 
Naturalists  have  denominated  it  Merganser.  In  this  coun- 
try, the  birds  composing  this  genus  are  generally  known 
by  the  name  of  Fishermen,  or  Fisher  ducks.  The  whole 
number  of  known  species  amount  to  only  nine  or  ten,  dis- 
persed through  various  quarters  of  the  world;  of  these,  four 
species,  of  which  the  present  is  the  largest,  are  known  to 
inhabit  the  United  States. 

From  the  common  habit  of  these  birds  in  feeding  almost 
entirely  on  fin  and  shell  fish,  their  flesh  is  held  in  little  es- 
timation, being  often  lean  and  rancid,  both  smelling  and 
tasting  strongly  of  fish;  but  such  are  the  various  peculiari- 
ties of  tastes,  that  persons  are  not  wanting  who  pretend  to 
consider  them  capital  meat. 

The  Goosander,  called  by  some  the  Water  Pheasant,  and 
by  others  the  Sheldrake,  Fisherman,  Diver,  &c.  is  a  win- 
ter inhabitant  only  of  the  seashores,  fresh  water  lakes,  and 
rivers  of  the  United  States.  They  usually  associate  in  small 
parties  of  six  or  eight,  and  are  almost  continually  diving  in 
search  of  food.  In  the  month  of  April  they  disappear, 
and  return  again  early  in  November.  Of  their  particular 
place  and  manner  of  breeding,  we  have  no  account.  Mr. 
Pennant  observes  that  they  continue  the  whole  year  in  the 
Orknies,  and  have  been  shot  in  the  Hebrides,  or  Western 
islands  of  Scotland,  in  summer.  They  are  also  found  in 
Iceland  and  Greenland,  and  are  said  to  breed  there;  some 
asserting  that  they  build  on  trees;  others  that  they  make 
their  nests  among  the  rocks. 

The  male  of  this  species  is  twenty-six  inches  in  length, 

and  three  feet  three  inches  in  extent,  the  bill  three  inches 

long,  and  nearly  one  inch  thick  at  the  base,  serrated  on 

both  mandibles;  the  upper  overhanging  at  the  tip,  where 

Ee 


each  is  furnished  with  a  large  nail;  the  ridge  of  the  bill  is 
black,  the  sides  crimson  red:  irides  red;  head  crested, 
tumid,  and  of  a  black  colour  glossed  with  green,  which  ex- 
tends nearly  half  way  down  the  neck,  the  rest  of  which, 
with  the  breast  and  belly,  arc  white  tinged  with  a  delicate 
yellowish  cream:  back  and  adjoining  scapulars  black;  pri- 
maries and  shoulder  of  the  wing  brownish  black;  exterior 
part  of  the  scapulars,  lesser  coverts,  and  tertials  white; 
secondaries  neatly  edged  with  black,  greater  coverts  white, 
their  upper  halves  black,  forming  a  bar  on  the  wing,  rest  of 
the  upper  parts  and  tail  brownish  ash:  legs  and  feet  the  co- 
lour of  red  sealing  wax;  flanks  marked  with  fine  semicircu- 
lar dotted  lines  of  deep  brown;  the  tail  extends  about  three 
inches  beyond  the  wings. 

This  description  was  taken  from  a  full  pUimaged  male. 
The  young  males,  which  are  generally  much  more  nume- 
rous than  the  old  ones,  so  exactly  resemble  the  females  in 
their  plumage  for  at  least  the  first,  and  part  of  the  second 
year,  as  scarcely  to  be  distinguished  from  them;  and  what 
is  somewhat  singular,  the  crests  of  these  and  of  the  females 
are  actually  longer  than  those  of  the  full  grown  male, 
though  thinner  towards  its  extremities.  These  circum- 
stances have  induced  some  late  Ornithologists  to  consider 
them  as  two  different  species,  the  young,  or  female,  having 
been  called  the  Dun  Diver.  By  this  arrangement  they 
have  entirely  deprived  the  Goosander  of  his  female;  for 
in  the  whole  of  my  examinations  and  dissections  of  the 
present  species,  I  have  never  yet  found  the  female  in  his 
dress.  What  I  consider  as  undoubtedly  the  true  female  of 
this  species,  is  figured  beside  him.  They  were  both  shot 
in  the  month  of  April,  in  the  same  creek,  unaccompanied 
by  any  other,  and  on  examination  the  sexual  parts  of  each 
were  strongly  and  prominently  marked.  The  windpipe 
of  the  female  had  nothing  remarkable  in  it;  that  of  the 
male  had  two  very  large  expansions,  which  have  been 
briefly  described  by  Willoughby,  who  says:  "  It  hath  a 
large  bony  labyrinth  on  the  windpipe,  just  above  the  diva- 
rications; and  the  windpipe  hath  besides  two  swellings  out, 
one  above  another,  each  resembling  a  powder  puff. "  These 
labyrinths  are  the  distinguishing  characters  of  the  males, 
and  are  always  found  even  in  young  males  who  have  not 
yet  thrown  off  the  plumage  of  the  female,  as  well  as  in  the 
old  ones.  If  we  admit  these  Dun  divers  to  be  a  distinct 
species,  we  can  find  no  difference  between  their  pretended 
females  and  those  of  the  Goosander,  only  one  kind  of  fe- 
male of  this  sort  being  known,  and  this  is  contrary  to  the 
usual  analogy  of  the  other  three  species,  viz.  the  Red 
breasted  Merganser,  the  Hooded  and  the  Smew,  all  of 
whose  females  are  well  known,  and  bear  the  same  com- 
parative resemblance  in  colour  to  their  respective  males, 
the  length  of  crest  excepted,  as  the  female  Goosander  we 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  fflSTORY 


have  figured  bears  to  him.  Having  thought  thus  much 
necessary  on  this  disputed  point,  I  leave  each  to  form  his 
own  opinion  on  the  facts  and  reasoning  produced. 


GOLDEN-EYE. 


^N^S  CLANGULA. 


[Plate  X.] 

Ze  Garrot,  Briss.  vi.  p.  416.  27.  pi.  37.  fig.  2. — Buff. 
IX.  p.  222.— Jirct.  Zool.  No.  486. — Lath.  Syn.  in. 
p.  535.— Le  Garrot,  PI.  Enl.  802. — Morrillon,  Arct. 
Zool.  II.  p.  300.  F.—Br,  Zool.  No.  276,  277.— Lath. 
Svpp.  II.  p.  535,  No.  26, — Ind.  Orn.  p.  867,  No.  87; 
*2.  glancion,  Id.  p.  868,  No.  88. — Gmel.  Syst.  i.  p. 
523,  No.  23;  Id.  p.  525,  No.  26.— Temm.  Man.d'Otn. 
I.  p.  870. — Bewick,  ii.  p.  330. — J.  Doughty's  Col- 
lection. 

This  Duck  is  well  known  in  Europe,  and  in  various 
regions  of  the  United  States,  both  along  the  seacoast  and 
about  the  lakes  and  rivers  of  the  interior.  It  associates  in 
small  parties,  and  may  easily  be  known  by  the  vigorous 
whistling  of  its  wings,  as  it  passes  through  the  air.  It 
swims  and  dives  well;  but  seldom  walks  on  shore,  and  then 
in  a  waddling  awkward  manner.  Feeding  chiefly  on  shell 
fish,  small  fry,  &c.  their  flesh  is  less  esteemed  than  that  of 
the  preceding.  In  the  United  States  they  are  only  winter 
visitors,  leaving  us  again  in  the  month  of  April,  being  then 
on  their  passage  to  the  north  to  breed.  They  are  said  to 
build,  like  the  wood  duck,  in  hollow  trees. 

The  Golden-eye  is  nineteen  inches  long,  and  twenty-nine 
in  extent,  and  weighs  on  an  average  about  two  pounds;  the 
bill  is  black,  short,  rising  considerably  up  in  the  forehead; 
tlie  plumage  of  the  head  and  part  of  our  neck  is  somewhat 
tumid,  and  of  a  dark  green  with  violet  reflections,  marked 
near  the  corner  of  the  mouth  with  an  oval  spot  of  white; 
the  irides  are  golden  yellow;  rest  of  the  neck,  breast,  and 
whole  lower  parts  white,  except  the  flanks,  which  are 
dusky;  back  and  wings  black;  over  the  latter  a  broad  bed 
of  white  extends  from  the  middle  of  the  lesser  coverts  to 
the  extremity  of  the  secondaries;  the  exterior  scapulars  are 
also  white;  tail  hoary  brown;  rump  and  tail  coverts  black; 
legs  and  toes  reddish  orange;  webs  very  large,  and  of  a 


dark  purplish  brown;  hind  toe  and  exterior  edge  of  the 
inner  one  broadly  finned;  sides  of  the  bill  obliquely  den- 
tated;  tongue  covered  above  with  a  fine  thick  velvetty 
down  of  a  whitish  colour. 

The  full  plumaged  female  is  seventeen  inches  in  length, 
and  twenty-seven  inches  in  extent;  bill  brown,  orange  near 
the  tip;  head  and  part  of  the  neck  brown,  or  very  dark 
drab,  bounded  below  by  a  ring  of  white;  below  that  the 
neck  is  ash,  tipt  with  white;  rest  of  the  lower  parts  white; 
wings  dusky,  six  of  the  secondaries  and  their  greater 
coverts  pure  white,  except  the  tips  of  the  last,  which  are 
touched  with  dusky  spots;  rest  of  the  wing  coverts  cinerous, 
mixed  with  whitish;  back  and  scapulars  dusky,  tipt  with 
brown;  feet  dull  orange;  across  the  vent  a  band  of  cine- 
rous; tongue  covered  with  the  same  velvetty  down  as  the 
male. 

The  young  birds  of  the  first  season  very  much  resemble 
the  females;  but  may  generally  be  distinguished  by  the 
white  spot,  or  at  least  its  rudiments,  which  marks  the  cor- 
ner of  the  mouth.  Yet,  in  some  cases,  even  this  is  variable, 
both  old  and  young  male  birds  occasionally  wanting  the  spot. 

From  an  examination  of  many  individuals  of  this  species 
of  both  sexes,  I  have  very  little  doubt  that  the  Morillon  of 
English  writers  {Jinas  glaucion)  is  nothing  more  than  the 
young  male  of  the  Golden-eye. 

The  conformation  of  the  trachea,  or  windpipe  of  the 
male  of  this  species,  is  singular.  Nearly  about  its  middle 
it  swells  out  to  at  least  five  times  its  common  diameter,  the 
concentric  hoops  or  rings,  of  which  this  part  is  formed,  fall- 
ing obliquely  into  one  another  when  the  windpipe  is  relax- 
ed; but  when  stretched,  this  part  swells  out  to  its  full  size, 
rings  being  then  drawn  apart;  this  expansion  extends  for 
about  three  inches;  three  more  below  this  it  again  forms 
itself  into  a  hard  cartilaginous  shell,  of  an  irregular  figure, 
and  nearly  as  large  as  a  walnut;  from  the  bottom  of  this 
labyrinth,  as  it  has  been  called,  the  trachea  branches  ofi"  to 
the  two  lobes  of  the  lungs;  that  branch  which  goes  to  the 
left  lobe  being  three  times  the  diameter  of  the  right.  The 
female  has  nothing  of  all  this.  The  intestines  measure  five 
feet  in  length,  and  are  large  and  thick. 

I  have  examined  many  individuals  of  this  species,  of 
both  sexes  and  in  various  stages  of  colour,  and  can  therefore 
affirm,  with  certainty,  that  the  foregoing  descriptions  are 
correct.  Europeans  have  differed  greatly  in  their  accounts 
of  this  bird,  from  finding  males  in  the  same  garb  as  the 
females;  and  other  full  plumaged  males  destitute  of  the 
spot  of  white  on  the  cheek;  but  all  these  individuals  bear 
such  evident  marks  of  belonging  to  one  peculiar  species, 
that  no  judicious  naturalist,  with  all  these  varieties  before 
him,  can  long  hesitate  to  pronounce  them  the  same. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


ANGLING. 

[The  following  treatise  on  Angling,  compiled  from  the 
works  of  several  eminent  writers,  is  respectfully  submit- 
ted to  those  who  feel  interested  in  this  most  delightful 
amusement.] 

There  is  not,  perhaps,  a  greater  variety  in  the  faces,  than 
in  the  favourite  pursuits  of  men.  And  this  variety,  which 
in  many  cases  seems  extraordinary,  and  almost  unaccount- 
able, conduces  as  much  to  the  happiness  of  the  individual, 
as  to  the  advantages  of  nations.  This  reflection  naturally 
arises  in  the  mind  of  the  attentive  observer,  when  he  sees 
the  enthusiasm  with  which  many,  and  even  those  of  lively 
tempers,  pursue  angling  as  an  amusement.  That  a  man 
should  have  a  fondness  for  the  active  and  inspiring  toils  of 
the  chace,  is  what  all,  except  lethargic  people,  can  con- 
ceive; but  that  any,  and  particularly  among  the  young, 
should  take  delight  in  merely  throwing  a  line,  and  standing 
for  hours  poring  upon  a  piece  of  water,  seems  to  most  men 
perfectly  strange.  Yet  we  all  know  there  are  many  who 
follow  this  apparently  dull,  tedious  and  languid  amusement, 
with  a  perseverance  that  nothing  can  overcome,  and  even 
with  the  poignancy  of  enjoyment  which  the  shooter  re- 
ceives, when  he  finds  birds  in  abundance,  or  the  hunter, 
when  he  follows  the  hounds  in  full  cry  after  the  fox,  who 
has  broke  cover. 

Angling,  however,  though  it  would  be  a  severe  punish- 
ment to  those  who  have  no  taste  for  it,  from  what  they 


consider  its  dullness,  must  be  admitted  by  all  to  be  at  least 
a  most  healthful  exercise.  Perhaps  none  is  more  capable 
of  retoning  a  stomach  which  has  been  weakened  by  luxury. 
Its  power  to  produce  hunger  is  well  known  to  all  anglers. 
This  arises  partly  from  the  exercise,  the  sharpness  of  the 
air  on  the  banks  of  streams,  and  from  being  in  sight  of  so 
much  of  what  raises  only  the  idea  of  quenching  thirst.  To 
those  whose  constitutions  have  been  enervated  by  a  too 
sedentary  life,  or  by  dissipation,  we  would  earnestly  re- 
commend it,  as  it  does  not,  like  most  other  rural  amuse- 
ments, over-fatigue  by  the  violence  of  exercise  required. 
It  affords  a  gentle  exercise  which,  with  the  free  circulation 
of  pure  air  on  the  banks  of  trout  streams,  or  large  rivers, 
lends  to  recruit  nature,  and  re-invigorate  the  system,  by  a 
sure,  though  a  slow  progress. 

There  is  a  considerable  degree  of  skill  and  experience 
required  to  find  out  the  various  kinds  of  flies  that  frequent 
certain  streams,  and  to  make  artificial  ones  like  them,  or 
to  prepare  those  kinds  of  bait  the  best  calculated  to  allure 
the  harmless  fishes  to  their  destruction.  The  scientific  an- 
gler likewise  knows  well  the  influence  of  certain  states  of 
the  atmosphere,  cloudy  or  clear,  in  his  art;  what  degree  of 
warmth  or  cold,  is  best,  or  from  which  point  the  wind  must 
blow,  and  how  high  or  low,  or  what  state  the  stream  should 
be  in  after  much  rain,  in  order  to  insure  success.  With 
respect  to  the  rapid  trout  streams  of  the  north,  the  angler 
never  fails  to  prepare  his  fishing  tackle,  when  they  have  been 
in  a  state  of  red  flood,  to  be  ready,  when  they  return  to  what 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


is  called  the  black  state,  which  is  the  intermediate  one  be- 
tween the  former  and  that  of  their  ordinary  limpidness  and 
purity.  The  red  or  muddy  state,  they  say,  renders  the 
trout  sick,  and  in  the  black  they  return  to  more  than  their 
usual  appetite.  A  heavy  summer  shower  is  favourable  for 
catching  trout.  Anglers  tell  us,  that  it  beats  the  fly  into 
the  water,  and  prevents  the  fishes  from  perceiving  the  dis- 
tinction between  the  real  and  artificial:  and,  as  to  be  wet- 
ted to  the  skin  is  nothing  to  those  who  are  really  fond  of 
the  sport,  great  quantities  are  often  taken  during  these 
showers. 

Some  imagine,  there  is  little  or  no  art  in  angling,  but 
that  the  whole  consists  in  drawing  out  the  fish,  after  it  has 
fixed  itself  to  the  fatal  hook.  That  there  is  something  more 
than  this,  however,  and  that  both  skill  and  dexterity  are 
necessary  to  success,  is  proved  from  a  fact  known  to  all. 
Experienced  anglers  will  catch  numbers,  while,  in  the 
same  part  of  the  stream,  and  under  similar  circumstances  in 
other  respects,  those  who  are  inexperienced,  though  they 
may  get  many  a  nibble,  will  not  catch  one. 

The  well  known  methods  of  catching  fish,  consist  of  net- 
ting, snaring,  bobbing,  and  angling  with  rod,  hook  and  line, 
and  variety  of  baits,  living,  artificial,  or  dead;  and  in  the 
United  States  is  not  confined  to  particular  places,  but  in 
every  river,  creek,  brook,  pond  or  lake,  with  which  the 
country  is  so  well  provided,  and  the  fish  which  claim  the 
most  attention  of  those  who  follow  it  as  a  sport,  are  the 
salmon,  trout,  rockfish,  pike,  chub,  perch,  catfish,  eels, 
sunfish  and  roach,  beside  others  which  are  peculiar  to  the 
lakes.  The  salmon  is  both  a  fresh  and  salt-water  fish,  and 
divides  its  time  pretty  equally  between  the  two,  but  is 
more  generally  confined  to  the  north,  or  climates  of  low 
temperature.  When  they  have  once  entered  a  river,  their 
progress  is  not  easily  stopped,  frequently  ascending  those 
of  the  greatest  length,  and  remarkable  for  their  rapidity 
and  strong  vortexes.  They  always  have  their  heads  to  the 
stream;  and  their  muscular  power  must  be  very  great,  as 
they  shoot  up  the  rapids  with  the  velocity  of  arrows.  They 
are  sensitive  and  delicate  in  the  extreme,  and  equally  avoid 
water  that  is  turbid  or  tainted,  and  that  which  is  dark  with 
woods,  or  any  other  shade.  They  serve  as  a  sort  of  wea- 
ther glasses,  as  they  leap  and  sport  above  the  surface  of  the 
water,  before  rain  or  wind;  but  during  violent  weather, 
especially  if  there  be  thunder,  they  keep  close  to  the  bot- 
tom; and  they  either  hear  better  than  many  other  species 
of  fish,  or  they  are  more  sensible  to  these  concussions  of 
the  air  produced  by  sound,  as  any  loud  noise  on  the  bank 
throws  them  into  a  state  of  agitation .  When  their  progress 
is  interrupted  by  a  cascade,  they  make  wonderful  efforts  to 
surmount  it  by  leaping;  and  as  they  continue  to  do  that  at 
places  which  a  salmon  has  never  been  known  to  ascend, 


their  instinct  cannot  be  to  go  to  the  particular  spot  where 
they  were  spawned,  but  simply  to  some  small  and  shallow 
stream. 

There  is  scarcely  any  time,  unless  when  it  thunders,  or 
when  the  water  is  thick  with  mud,  but  you  may  chance  to 
tempt  the  salmon  to  rise  to  an  artificial  fly.  But  the  most 
propitious  are  critical  moments;  or,  undoubtedly,  when, 
clearing  after  a  flood,  the  water  has  turned  to  a  light  whey, 
or  rather  brown  colour;  when  the  wind  blows  pretty  fresh, 
approaching  to  a  mackerel  gale,  against  the  stream  or  course 
of  the  river;  when  the  sun  shines  through  showers,  or 
when  the  cloudy  rack  runs  fast  and  thick,  and  at  intervals 
discovers  the  pure  blue  ether  from  above.  In  these  situa- 
tions of  the  water  and  of  the  weather,  you  may  always  de- 
pend upon  excellent  sport. 

The  most  difiicult  thing  for  a  beginner,  is  to  throw  the 
line  far,  neatly,  and  to  make  the  fly  first  touch  the  water. 
A  few  attentive  trials  will,  however,  bring  him  to  do  it 
with  dexterity. 

It  should  always  be  across  the  river,  and  on  the  far  side, 
when  you  expect  the  fish  to  rise.  If  he  appears,  do  not  be 
too  eager  to  strike,  but  give  him  time  to  catch  the  fly;  then, 
with  a  gentle  twist,  fix  the  hook  in  his  lip  or  mouth;  if  he 
is  hooked  in  a  bone,  or  feels  sore,  he  will  shoot,  spring  and 
plunge,  with  so  much  strength  and  vehemence,  as  to  make 
the  reel  run  with  a  loud  whizzing  noise,  and  your  arms  to 
shake  and  quiver  most  violently.  In  this  situation,  take 
out  the  line  from  the  winch  quickly,  though  with  compo- 
sure, keeping  it  always  at  the  same  time  stretched,  but  yet 
ever  ready  to  yield  to  his  leaping.  Do  not  let  it  run  to  any 
great  length,  as  it  is  then  apt  to  be  unmanageable,  but  rather 
follow  him,  and  if  he  comes  nearer,  j-ou  retire,  and  wind 
up  as  fast  as  possible,  so  as  to  have  the  line  tight,  and  hold 
your  rod  nearly  in  a  perpendicular  situation.  When  he 
becomes  calmer,  he  often  turns  sullen,  and  remains  motion- 
less at  the  bottom  of  the  water.  Then  cast  a  few  stones 
upon  the  spot  where  you  think  he  is,  and  this,  in  all  proba- 
bility, will  rouse  him  from  his  inactive  position.  Be  cau- 
tious in  the  lifting  and  the  throwing  of  them,  as  the  salmon 
may  spring  at  that  instant,  and  break  your  tackle,  should 
you  be  off  your  guard.  Being  again  in  motion,  he  gene- 
rally takes  his  way  up  the  current:  do  not  then  check  him, 
as  by  this  way  his  strength  will  be  the  sooner  exhausted. 
When,  now  fatigued,  and  no  longer  able  to  keep  his  direc- 
tion, he  once  more  tries  all  his  wiles  in  disengaging  himself 
from  the  guileful  and  hated  hook;  he  crosses  and  recrosses, 
sweeps  and  flounces  through  every  part  of  the  pool  or 
stream;  but,  finding  all  his  efforts  to  be  vain,  he  at  last, 
indignant  at  his  fate,  with  immense  velocity,  rushes  head- 
long down  the  stream.  If  the  ground  is  rough  or  uneven, 
or  if  you  cannot  keep  pace  with  him,  give  him  line  enough, 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


and  when  it  slackens,  wind  up  again,  until  you  nearly  ap- 
proach him.  You  will  then,  probably,  observe  him  float- 
ing on  his  side,  his  motion  feeble,  and  all  his  vigour  gone. 
Being  unable  to  make  any  farther  resistance,  it  behoves  you 
now  to  lead  him  gently  to  the  nearest  shelving  shore;  use 
no  gaif,  as  it  mangles  the  fish  very  much,  but  take  him 
softly  by  the  gills  into  your  arms,  or  throw  him,  if  not  too 
heavy,  upon  the  top  of  some  adjacent  bank. 

As  the  Salmon  is  seldom  in  the  rivers  in  time  for  the 
spring  fly,  the  May  fly  is  often  imitated  as  a  lure  for  him, 
but  is  only  an  imitation,  as  it  has  to  be  made  of  gigantic 
dimensions.  The  onlj*  fly  of  which  a  natural  imitation 
makes  a  good  salmon  fly,  is  the  dragon  fly.  The  best  baits 
are  large,  gaudy  artificial  flies,  lob-worms,  line  fish  baits, 
and  muscles  from  the  shell;  the  hook  must  be  strong  and 
large;  bottom  fishing,  however,  is  usually  more  successful 
for  salmon  than  fly  fishing. 

The  TROUT  has  justly  been  styled  "  the  monarch  of  the 
brook,"  not  only,  perhaps,  from  the  superiority  of  its  meat 
over  other  fish,  but  from  the  great  diversion  in  fishing  for 
tliem,  and  the  superior  science  required  to  constitute  a  suc- 
cessful fisherman. 

The  plan  usually  followed  for  trout  fishing,  by  those  who 
may  be  called  scientific  trout-fishers,  is  with  the  artificial 
fly,  attached  to  a  long,  fine  line,  wound  upon  a  reel,  which 
is  fastened  to  the  handle  of  the  pole,  and  in  consequence, 
of  the  great  shyness  of  this  fish,  stand  some  distance  from 
the  water,  to  prevent  being  seen.  The  trout  is  a  quick 
and  sharp  biter,  and  not  very  particular  as  to  the  kind  of 
fly,  rising  as  well  to  an  artificial  as  a  natural  one;  but, 
being  very  voracious,  they  fall  victims  more  generally  to 
those  who  are  styled  bottom  fishers:  in  this  case,  the  bait 
consists  of  lobworm,  earth-worm,  dung-worm  and  maggot. 
Fishing  with  an  artificial  fly  is,  certainly,  a  very  pleasant 
and  gentlemanly  way  of  angling,  and  is  attended  with  much 
less  labour  and  trouble  than  bottom  fishing.  The  fly-fisher- 
man has  but  little  to  carry,  either  in  bulk  or  weight,  nor 
has  he  the  dirty  work  of  digging  clay,  making  ground  baits, 
&c.  &c.  He  may  travel  for  miles,  with  a  book  of  flies  in 
his  pocket,  and  a  light  rod  in  his  hand,  and  cast  in  his  bait, 
as  he  roves  on  the  banks  of  a  stream,  without  soiling  his 
fingers;  it  is,  therefore,  preferred  by  many  to  every  other 
way  of  angling.  Yet  fly-fishing  is  not  without  it  disadvan- 
tages, for  there  are  many  kinds  of  fish  that  will  not  take  a 
fly;  whereas,  all  the  difierent  species  which  the  fresh  vvraters 
produce,  will  take  a  bait  at  bottom,  at  some  season  of  the 
year;  and  it  is  also  worthy  of  notice,  that  the  angler  who 
fishes  at  bottom  has  many  months  and  days  in  the  year, 
when  the  fish  will  so  feed;  consequently  he  has  frequent 
opportunities  of  enjoying  his  amusement,  when  the  fly- 
Ff 


fisherman  is  entirely  deprived  of  the  chance  of  sport,  by 
very  cold  or  wet  weather,  and  the  winter  season. 

Trout  delight  most  in  sharp,  shallow  streams,  sometimes 
lying  under  a  large  stone,  or  shelving  clump,  at  other  times 
swimming,  and  seemingly  striving  against  the  stream ; 
they  are  also  found  in  such  cold  water,  that  no  other  fish 
can  live  therein.  They  will  also  live  in  clear,  gravelly 
and  sandy  bottomed  spring  ponds,  with  a  stream  running 
through,  but  will  not  thrive  so  fast,  or  breed  so  well,  as  in 
rivers;  after  spawning,  they  retire  into  deep,  still  holes, 
and  under  shelving  banks,  and  there  remain  during  the 
winter  season,  in  the  course  of  which  they  become  very 
poor,  and  lose  the  beautiful  spots  on  their  bodies,  instead 
of  which  they  are  much  infested  with  a  worm  or  water- 
louse,  and  the  heads  of  trout,  at  this  season,  seem  much 
too  large,  and  their  whole  appearance  is  lean,  lank,  and  far 
from  that  of  a  beautiful  fish:  but  when  the  days  lengthen, 
and  the  sun  gets  suflicient  power  to  warm  and  invigorate 
the  elements,  then  the  trout  seems  to  have  a  new  lease  of 
his  life,  leaving  his  hiding-place,  and  getting  among  the 
gravel,  in  rapid  parts  of  the  streams,  and  with  much  hearty 
rubbing,  speedily  gets  rid  of  his  troublesome  and  filthy 
companions,  who  have  so  long  infested,  or  stuck  to  him, 
and  then  soon  recovers  his  former  shape  and  colours. 

The  next  in  the  catalogue  of  our  favourite  fish,  ranks  the 
silvery  ROCK  fish,  and  which  form  not  only  a  subject  of 
the  most  common  amusement,  but  is  universally  known 
in  all  the  rivers  and  smaller  tide-water  streams  throughout 
the  United  States.  The  manner  of  fishing,  and  prepara- 
tion necessary  for  it  is  so  well  known  that  a  description  is 
deemed  unnecessarj-,  at  this  time.  The  following  selec- 
tion, however,  from  the  American  Turf  Register  and  Sport- 
ing Magizine,  describing  the  manner  in  which  this  fish  is 
trolled  for  in  the  Susquehannah,  may  not  be  uninteresting. 

<'The  season  for  trolling  begins  in  the  latter  part  of 
May,  and  commonly  ends  about  the  middle  of  July;  but 
some  years  lasts  during  August.  In  the  month  of  June, 
the  rock  fish  generally  bite  best.  To  make  good  fishing, 
the  river  should  not  be  very  high  nor  low,  muddy  nor  clear, 
but  betwixt  extremes,  in  these  respects.  If  the  water  be 
clear,  the  fish  dart  ofi"  at  sight  of  the  line ;  and  it  is  thought, 
they  leave  the  rapids,  when  the  river  is  rising,  or  muddy, 
to  feed  upon  the  flats  in  the  Chesapeake. 

"  Trolling  is  very  much  practised  from  Fort  Deposit,  to 
almost  any  given  distance  up  the  river,  but  not  below.  The 
grass  that  the  ducks  feed  upon,  grows  too  thick  on  the  flats 
in  tide-water  for  trolling,  and  the  channel  is  uniformlj"-  too 
deep.  The  rapids  above,  where  the  water  is  in  manj'  parts 
shoal,  and  the  rocky  bottom  clear  of  grass,  is  the  proper 
place  for  trolling. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


"  As  I  have  never  seen  this  method  of  fishing  noticed  in 
any  sporting  work,  I  propose  giving  such  an  account  of  it 
as,  I  hope,  a  reader  who  has  never  witnessed  it  will  under- 
stand. The  troller  provides  himself  with  a  convenient 
sized,  light,  well  corked  skiff;  it  should  be  large  enough  to 
carry  four  persons,  without  sinking  deep  in  the  water.  He 
must  also  take  care  to  get  two  good  oarsmen,  accustomed  to 
row  among  the  rapids.  The  lines  generally  used  are  made 
of  flax,  (sometimes  of  cotton,)  and  twisted  very  hard,  from 
ninety  to  one  hundred  and  thirty  feet  long.  On  each  line 
there  are  two  brass  or  steel  swivels,  one  about  a  foot  from 
the  hook,  the  other  some  twenty  or  more,  according  to  the 
length  of  the  line.  The  lines  must  be  very  strong,  but  not 
so  thick  as  to  be  clumsy,  and  the  steel  hooks  sharp,  with 
large  barbs.  The  figures  of  the  hooks  are  made  to  vary 
according  to  the  notions  of  their  different  owners,  who  fre- 
quently have  them  made  to  order,  by  smiths  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood. The  long-shanked  hook  is  generally  esteemed 
best.  Old  trollers  are  as  particular  about  the  shapes  of  their 
hooks,  as  cockers  are  about  their  gaffles.  One  end  of  the 
line  is  made  fast  to  a  cork  or  buoy,  as  large  as  a  common 
seine  cork.  This  cork  is  thrown  overboard,  when  the  hook 
catches  against  a  stone  or  the  limb  of  a  tree;  for  the  boat  is 
under  such  head-way,  and  the  line  being  nearly  all  out,  if 
the  fisherman  holds  on  to  his  line  he  will  break  it.  He, 
therefore,  in  such  case,  throws  the  buoy  overboard,  by 
which  he  can  find  his  line,  and  goes  back  at  his  leisure  to 
take  it  up,  and  disengage  his  hook.  The  bait  consists  of 
small  fish,  such  as  anchovies,  minnows,  chubs,  &c.  &c.  If 
the  troller  intends  starting  at  daybreak,  (the  usual  hour,) 
he  angles  for  his  bait  the  afternoon  previous,  and  buries 
them  in  the  wet  sand  by  the  edge  of  some  convenient 
stream,  or  keeps  them  in  spring  water.  If  they  are  ex- 
posed to  the  atmosphere  during  a  warm  summer  night,  they 
become  tender,  and  tear  from  the  hook. 

"  Two  persons  generally  fish  from  the  same  boat;  one  of 
them  steers  with  one  hand,  and  fishes  with  the  other.  Each 
fisherman  lets  his  line  out  over  the  side  of  the  boat  nearest 
to  him,  and  close  to  the  stern,  (where  they  sit,)  holding  it 
in  his  hand,  a  few  inches  from  the  water,  and  leaves  the 
end  attached  to  the  cork  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat.  He 
pays  out  nearly  all  his  line,  and  keeps  constantly  pulling  it, 
by  short  jerks,  to  feel  if  it  is  running  over  a  rock  or  tree 
top.  The  boat  is  rowed  as  fast  as  possible  across  the  river, 
from  shore  to  shore,  above,  and  as  near  to  the  falls  as  they 
can  go,  to  avoid  being  swept  down  them.  The  rock  fish 
lie  below  the  falls  and  ripples,  waiting  for  the  small  fish 
that  are  carried  over  by  the  current.  Here  then  the  bait 
falls  over,  with  a  constant  rotary  motion,  like  a  live  fish 
whirled  over,  side  foremost,  and  struggles  in  vain  against 
the  falls.     The  swivels  turn  every  time  the  bait  turns,  and 


prevent  the  line  from  twisting  up  into  knots;  and  as  there 
are  no  sinkers,  the  rapid  head-way  of  the  boat  drags  them 
along  so  fast  that  the  lines  have  no  time  to  sink.  At  sight 
of  the  bait  tumbling  over  the  falls,  the  rock-fish  darts  up- 
wards from  his  cavern  in  the  rocks,  and  swallows  hook 
and  all.  The  bite  of  the  rock  is  quick  as  lightning,  and 
gives  a  sudden  jerk  to  the  arm  of  the  fisherman.  When 
he  first  discovers  he  is  snared,  he  rises  to  the  top  of  the 
water,  and  begins  to  lash  it  furiously  with  his  forked  tail, 
like  'a  spirit  conjured  from  the  vasty  deep,'  then  plunges 
down  again  to  the  bottom.  He  is  dragged  from  thence  by 
the  fisherman,  who  hauls  in  his  long  line,  hand  over  hand, 
until  he  brings  his  fish  alongside  of  the  boat.  If  he  is  of 
tolerable  size,  weighing  only  seven  or  ten  pounds,  the  trol- 
ler lifts  him  into  the  boat  by  the  line;  but  if  the  fish  is 
large,  he  runs  his  arm  down  into  the  water,  and  lifts  him  in 
by  his  gills.  The  excitement  that  this  scene  produces  in  all 
those  in  the  boat,  is  not  to  be  described.  One  instant  you 
see  the  fish  making  the  water  foam  with  his  tail,  the  next 
you  lose  sight  of  him;  one  instant  the  troller  feels  him  jerk- 
ing desperately  backwards,  the  next  he  darts  ahead  towards 
the  boat,  carrying  the  line  with  him;  and  the  fisherman, 
who  ceases  to  feel  him,  is  distressed  for  fear  he  has  broken 
loose  from  the  hook.  The  black  oarsmen  ease  up  rowing 
to  laugh  and  shout  with  great  glee.  The  troller's  anxiety 
to  secure  his  fish  is  so  great,  that  he  alone,  of  all  the  com- 
pany, is  silent,  and  full  of  uneasiness,  until  he  gets  him  into 
the  boat.  In  this  manner,  it  is  not  unusual  to  catch,  with 
two  lines,  ten  or  twenty  fish,  varying  in  weight  from  five 
to  twenty  pounds  each,  in  an  hour — sometimes  they  are 
caught  much  larger.  When  the  fish  do  not  bite  fast,  the 
troller  does  not  become  wearied  soon;  his  line  is  always 
out,  and  he  is  in  constant  expectation  of  feeling  a  bite,  as 
the  boat  glides  backwards  and  forwards  across  the  river,  in 
search  of  luck;  he  is  not  confined  to  one  rock,  like  the 
sleepy  angler. 

"  This  would  be  very  dangerous  sport  to  persons  unac- 
customed to  it ;  let  no  presumptuous  cits  venture  upon  it  by 
themselves.  The  flat-bottomed  boat  must  be  rowed  through 
the  most  dangerous  falls  and  whirlpools  in  the  river.  Some- 
times she  is  forced,  at  an  imperceptible  progress,  against  a 
current,  running  down  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees.  If 
one  of  the  oarsmen  happens  to  fail  in  strength,  or  to  dip  his 
oar  with  a  false  stroke,  the  current  will  snatch  it  upwards 
out  of  his  hands,  and  the  frail  skiff  will  be  dashed  to  pieces 
amongst  the  rocks.  Often  they  are  obliged  to  get  out  of 
the  boat  on  some  rock  above  water,  and  haul  her  over.  A 
person  unaccustomed  to  it,  cannot  rely  upon  his  senses  of 
hearing  or  seeing.  He  is  first  deafened  by  the  stunning 
roar  of  the  incessant  flood,  then  sickened  by  the  tossing  of 
the  skiff  amongst  the  waves  and  eddies.     The  huge  rocks 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


that  rear  themselves  thick  to  oppose  the  rushing  waters, 
covered  with  eagles  and  cormorants,  and  the  little  islands 
all  see7n  to  be  swimming  backwards.  And  now  she  flies 
across  a  shoal — at  first  glimpse  the  little  skill"  seems  to  rest 
securely  on  the  bottom;  at  the  next,  the  solid  bottom  ap- 
pears deceitfully  to  recede  from  beneath  her,  and  leave  her 
to  founder  in  the  dark  waters  of  a  bottomless  swirl.  And 
again,  before  he  is  aware  of  it,  she  seems  to  have  approach- 
ed so  near  the  falls  that  nothing  can  prevent  her  from  going 
over  side  foremost.  All  these  false  appearances  rushing  in 
succession,  quick  as  thought,  upon  the  mind  of  the  troubled 
cockney,  turn  his  brain  with  dizziness." 

The  PERCH  is  another  well  known  and  popular  fish,  and 
in  point  of  beauty  ranking  nearly  equal  to  the  former. 
Their  favourite  places  of  resort  are  about  bridges,  mill 
pools,  in  and  near  locks,  about  shipping,  floats  of  timbers  in 
navigable  rivers  and  canals,  and  at  the  entrance  of  docks; 
also  in  deep  and  dark  still  holes,  and  in  bending  and  still 
parts  of  rivers,  at  the  mouths  of  sluices  and  flood  gates, 
and  near  the  sides  where  reeds  and  rushes  grow.  It  is  not 
necessary  to  wait  long  in  a  place,  for  if  there  are  any  perch 
about,  and  they  are  inclined  to  feed,  they  will  soon  take 
the  bait;  and  if  you  meet  with  several  of  them  in  a  still 
hole,  and  they  are  well  on  the  feed,  with  care,  you  may 
often  take  them  all;  for,  if  not  disturbed  or  alarmed  by  let- 
ting one  fall  from  your  hook,  they  will,  one  after  the  other, 
take  the  bait  almost  immediately  after  it  settles  in  the  water. 
Give  plenty  of  time  when  you  have  a  bite,  that  the  fish 
may  gorge  before  you  strike,  for  more  perch  are  lost  by 
the  angler  striking  too  soon,  when  he  perceives  a  bite,  than 
by  breaking  the  tackle,  after  they  are  fairly  hooked.  It  is, 
therefore,  of  the  first  consequence  that  the  angler,  when 
fishing  for  perch  where  he  has  reason  to  think  he  shall  meet 
with  some  heavy  ones,  to  keep  cool  and  collected  when  he 
perceives  a  bite,  giving  the  perch  two  or  three  moments' 
time  to  gorge  the  bait  before  he  strikes,  because  he  then 
has  an  opportunity  of  fixing  the  hook  securely  in  the  perch's 
paunch,  or  stomach,  from  which  place  it  will  never  draw; 
but  if  you  strike  too  soon,  that  is,  while  the  baited  hook  is 
only  in  the  mouth,  and  if  you  do  fix  the  hook  in  the  roof  of 
or  the  side  of  the  mouth,  recollect  how  tender  and  brittle 
that  part  of  the  perch  is,  and  how  frequently,  by  his  plung- 
ing and  struggling,  the  hook  tears  away  from  such  a  tender 
or  insecure  hold  ;  and  when  this  does  not  occur,  the  hole 
which  the  hook  has  made  soon  becomes  enlarged.  If  then, 
while  you  are  playing  a  heavy  perch,  he  unfortunately  gets 
round  or  among  some  strong  weeds,  the  line  will  become 
slack  about  the  mouth  of  the  fish,  and  the  hook  comes  or 
draws  away  from  its  hold. 

Perch  abound  most  in  deep,  dark,  and  sluggish  rivers, 
but  in  those  rivers  whose  currents  run  so  strong  and  fast, 


search  for  perch,  particularly  in  the  bends  and  still  parts 
thereof.  When  angling  in  these  bends  or  coves  of  a  river, 
or  in  still  places  laying  under  the  wind,  it  is  proper  to  keep, 
continuall}',  gently  moving  or  drawing  your  float  a  little 
to  the  right  or  left,  or  to  lift  it  out  of  the  water  a  few  inches 
occasionally,  and  let  it  gently  drop  in  again,  as  this  way  of 
acting  frequently  inclines  fish  to  seize  the  bait,  fearing  it  is 
moving  away  from  them,  though  they  have  seen  the  bait 
stationary,  but  not  being  much  on  feed,  would  not  take  the 
trouble  of  moving  for  it,  till  it  seemed  likely  to  make  its 
escape. 

When  a  heavy  perch  is  hooked,  play  him  until  he  is 
quite  spent,  before  you  attempt  to  land  him,  fearing  he 
may  be  slightly  hooked;  by  thus  acting,  the  reader  will  see 
he  not  only  secures  a  large  perch,  but  very  probably  may, 
by  such  careful  and  skilful  way  of  angling,  fill  his  basket 
with  them;  and  they  are  fish  worth  all  the  trouble  attend- 
ing the  taking,  either  for  the  anglers'  own  tables,  or  for 
making  a  present  of:  and  also  further  note,  that  when  perch 
are  well  on  the  feed,  and  you  should  be  distressed  for  bait, 
you  may  bait  your  hook  with  the  eyes  of  those  other  fish 
you  have  taken,  or  the  eye  of  any  other  fish,  and  perch 
will  freely  take  it.  The  proper  depth  to  fish  for  perch  is 
mid-water,  or  six  inches  from  the  bottom.  When  fishing 
for  large  perch  you  should  bait  with  live  minnows,  or 
shrimps,  on  a  floating  line;  the  float  should  be  a  cork  one, 
and  of  tolerable  size;  the  line  of  India  grass,  or  choice 
twisted  gut  from  four  to  six  yards  long.  The  hooks  from 
one  to  three,  and  size  of  No.  6. ;  the  bottom  hook  tie  to 
about  nine  inches  of  gut;  then  loop  it  to  the  line  above  this; 
about  eighteen  inches  higher  up  the  line  place  another, 
which  tie  to  about  three  inches  and  a  half  of  gut;  then  take 
a  leaden  pellet,  with  a  hole  through  it  about  an  inch  long, 
and  as  thick  as  a  tobacco  pipe,  and  fasten  it  securely  to  the 
line,  within  about  eighteen  inches  of  the  bottom  hook, 
and  about  eighteen  inches  above  this,  place  another  hook, 
secured  as  before  described,  and  then  your  perch  line  is 
complete.  Some  anglers,  when  perch  fishing  in  very  deep 
water,  say  from  sixteen  to  thirty  feet,  use  four  or  five  hooks 
on  a  line,  but  three  will  be  found  sufiicient  for  the  deepest 
water,  and  in  shallower  two;  because,  though  it  is  known 
that  perch  swim  at  all  depths,  yet  experience  will  prove 
that  two  to  one  are  killed  on  the  bottom  hook  to  what  are 
killed  with  the  highest  up  on  the  line;  therefore,  it  is  ne- 
cessary to  place  the  float  so  as  to  let  the  bottom  hook  nearly 
touch  the  bottom.  In  still  waters,  when  it  is  calm,  if 
3^ou  throw  in  the  water  occasionally  a  few  handfulls  of 
loose  sand  and  gravel,  it  will  often  move  the  perch  to  feed; 
but  when  it  is  a  mild  breezy  day,  the  perch  are  then  on  the 
rove,  and  will  take  a  bait  in  good  earnest;  if  there  be  nei- 
ther wind  nor  rain,  your  only  chance  to  find  perch  on  the 


116 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


feed,  is  to  be  after  them  early  in  the  morning,  and  again  to- 
wards night-fall,  or  evening. 

When  live  minnows,  or  any  other  small  fish,  are  used  for 

bait,  the  angler  should  frequently  change  the  water  in  the 

kettle,  and  take  the  bait  out  with  a  very  small  net,  similar 

to  those  used  in  removing  gold   and  silver  fish,  onlj^  of  a 

smaller  mesh;  or,  if  it  is  made  of  coarse  gauze,  it  will  do, 

because,   putting  a  hot  hand  in  the  kettle  distresses  and 

alarms  the   bait,  and    frequently  is    the   cause  of  several 

of  them  dying,  which  sometimes  is  an  irreparable  loss  for 

the  day,   therefore  it  is  necessary  to  provide  against  it. 

When  fishing  for  perch,   (or  where  they  are  small)  with  a 

worm  bait,  when  they  bite,  let  them  run  about  the  length 

of  a  yard  or  two,  and  then  strike  smartly:  place  the  float 

on  the  line  so  that  the  bait  should  swim  or  hang  about  a 

foot  from  the  bottom.  The  best  baits  for  perch  are,  live 
minnows,  or  shrimps,  the  red  earth-worm,  grubs  found 
among  dung,  and  at  the  roots  of  cabbages,  and  young  wasps. 
CHUB-fishing  is  rendered  unpleasant  from  the  circum- 
stance of  their  inhabiting  inland  streams,  in  the  midst  of 
rocks,  stumps,  and  waters  overgrown  with  bushes  and 
trees,  and,  although  beautiful  fish,  are  not  very  choice  food, 
and  are  seldom  sought  for,  unless,  indeed,  in  the  absence 
of  most  other  fish  ;  but  the  well  known 

SUN  fish,  the  inhabitant  of  every  stream,  and  pond,  is  the 
first  fish  to  which  youth  apply  their  dexterity.  This  beauti- 
ful little  fish  is  not  only  sought  after  eagerly  by  the  school- 
boy, but  the  more  experienced  angler  oft  times,  on  the 
margin  of  some  lonely  stream,  enjoys  a  satisfaction  peculiar 
to  this  kind  of  fishing,  where,  on  the  sandy  beds  beneath 
his  feet,  he  carefully  watches  every  motion  of  this  little 
fish,  sometimes  eager  to  seize  the  fatal  bait,  and  then  sus- 
picious of  the  strange  food,  smells  and  darts  back  ever  and 
anon,  as  though  conscious  his  fatal  enemy  was  lurking  near 
to  lure  him  to  destruction. 

For  Sun  fishing,  the  float  line  is  used  altogether,  with 
very  small  hooks,  say  No  8  or  9,  baited  with  earth 
worms,  and  suffered  to  hang  near  the  bottom  of  the  water.   Messrs.  Editors, 


leaf  bursting  from  the  purple  bud, — to  scent  the  odours  of 
the  bank,  perfumed  by  the  violet,  and  enamelled,  as  it 
were,  with  the  primrose  and  the  daisy; — to  wander  upon 
the  fresh  turf,  below  the  shade  of  trees; — and,  on  the  sur- 
face of  the  waters,  to  view  the  gaudy  flies  sparkling,  like 
animated  gems,  in  the  sunbeams,  while  the  bright,  beautiful 
trout,  is  watching  them  from  below; — to  hear  the  twitter- 
ing of  tlie  water  birds,  who,  alarmed  at  your  approach,  hide 
themselves  beneath  the  flowers  and  leaves  of  the  water- 
lilies; — and,  as  the  season  advances,  to  find  all  these  objects 
changed  for  others  of  the  same  kind,  but  better  and  brighter, 
till  the  swallow  and  the  trout  contend,  as  it  were,  for  the 
gaudy  ]May-fl)';  and  till,  in  pursuing  your  amusement  in 
the  calm  and  balmy  evening,  you  are  serenaded  bj'  the 
cheerful  thrush,  performing  the  ofiices  of  maternal  love,  in 
thickets  ornamented  with  the  rose  and  woodbine." 

"There  is,  indeed,  a  calmness  and  repose  about  angling 
which  belongs  to  no  other  sport, — hardly  to  any  other  ex- 
ercise. To  be  alone  and  silent,  amid  the  beauties  of  nature, 
when  she  is  just  shaking  off  the  last  emblems  of  the  win- 
ter's destruction,  and  springing  into  life,  fresh,  green,  and 
blooming, — that,  that  is  the  charm.  The  osier  bed,  as  the 
supple  twigs  register  every  fit  of  the  breeze,  displa)'  the 
down  on  the  under  side  of  their  leaves,  and  play  like  a  sea 
of  molten  silver,  for  the  production  of  which  no  slave  ever 
toiled  in  the  mine;  and  at  that  little  nook  where  the  stream, 
after  working  itself  into  a  ripple  through  the  thick  matting 
of  confervse  and  water-lilies,  glides  silently  under  the  hollow 
bank,  and  lies  dark,  deep,  and  still  as  a  mirror,  is  made  ex- 
quisitely touching  by  the  pendent  boughs  of  the  weeping 
willow  that  stands  '  mournfully  ever,'  over  the  stilly 
stream." 


REJOINDER  TO   I.  T.  S. 


J 


They  inhabit  still  waters,  altogether,  and  are  to  found  in 
ditches,  on  the  margin  of  most  brooks,  and  shallow  rivers, 
with  sandy  bottoms,  mill  and  other  ponds,  and  the  shady 
coves  of  creeks. 

A  beautiful  writer  describes  angling  thus: 

"  As  to  its  practical  relations,  it  carries  us  into  the  most 
wild  and  beautiful  scenery  of  nature;  amongst  the  mountain 
lakes,  and  the  clear  and  lovely  streams,  that  gush  from  the 
higher  ranges  of  elevated  hills,  or  make  their  way  through 
the  cavities  of  calcareous  strata.  How  delightful,  in  the 
early  spring,  after  the  dull  and  tedious  winter,  when  the 
frosts  disappear,  and  the  sunshine  warms  the  earth  and 
waters,  to  wander  forth  by  some  clear  stream, — to  see  the 


I  read,  with  much  attention,  the  reply  of  I.  T.  S.  to  the 
remarks  submitted  by  me  in  a  former  number  on  his  mode 
of  Duck  Shooting.  The  arguments  used  to  illustrate  his 
views  on  the  subject,  however  convincing  to  himself,  I 
must  confess  have  not  had  sufficient  weight  with  me  to 
change  my  way  of  thinking.  A  practice  of  many  years  at  game 
of  every  description,  from  the  snipe  to  the  duck  (notwith- 
standing the  belief  of  your  correspondent  to  the  contrary, 
with  respect  the  Litter  bird)  has  full}'  satisfied  me,  that  the 
correct  principle  of  shooting  is  not  in  advance  of,  but  at 
the  bird,  with  a  swing  of  the  gun  proportionate  to  its  flight, 
and  that  the  mode  adopted  by  him  can  never  be  depended 
on  with  certainty,  as  it  is  impossible  to  lay  down  any  rule 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


as  to  distance,  by  which  the  gun  is  to  be  directed  in  advance 
of  the  bird,  its  flight  varying  at  times  from  a  greater  to  a 
less  degree  of  velocity,  as  well  as  distance.  In  his  essay  on 
Duck  shooting,  he  admits  the  necessity,  even  within  the 
moderate  space  of  sixty  yards,  of  varying  the  direction  of 
the  gun  from  six  inches  to  three  or  four  feet;  and  I  would 
ask,  if  this  be  the  fact,  what  reliance  can  be  placed  on  a 
mode  of  shooting  liable  to  so  much  discretionary  exercise 
on  the  part  of  the  sportsman.  In  the  diagram  offered,  the 
data  there  given,  so  far  from  supporting  his  position,  and 
elucidating  the  subject,  has  only  made  its  fallacy  the  more 
apparent;  for  if,  as  he  supposes,  it  takes  one  second  of 
time  for  the  passage  of  the  load  from  the  breech  to  the  muz- 
zle, and  one  second  for  a  forward  velocity  of  the  contents 
in  a  hundred  yards;  two  seconds  must  necessarily  elapse 
before  the  shot  would  do  execution  at  that  distance:  and  esti- 
mating the  flight  of  the  duck  at  eighty-seven  feet  the  second, 
it  follows  that  it  would  require  a  direction  of  the  gun  twice 
eighty-seven  feet,  or  one  hundred  and  seventy-four  feet  in 
advance,  in  order  to  overcome  the  rapidity  of  its  flight;  or 
take  any  proportion  of  the  above  time,  and,  according  to  his 
own  expression,  "the  result  is  the  same."  This  latitude,  , 
we  should  think,  would  stagger  the  faith  of  the  oldest  Duck 
shooter,  and  even  I.  T.  S.  must  acknowledge  his  theory  to 
be,  however  philosophically  correct,  practically  unsound 
and  defective. 

In  this  country,  where,  from  the  abundance  of  game, 
and  the  forbearance  of  restraint  in  its  pursuit,  the  science  of 
shooting,  more  than  in  any  other,  has  been  brought  to  its 
greatest  perfection,  the  principle  advanced  by  me  is  acted 
upon  by  the  most  skilful  and  practised  shots,  and  its  cor- 
rectness has  been  tested  upon  all  game;  for,  let  the  bird  fly 
fast  or  slow — with  the  rapidity  of  a  duck,  or  the  sluggishness 
of  a  rail — the  sportsman  who  is  governed  by  it,  is  satisfied 
that  its  truth  can  be  relied  on  in  every  instance.  If  your 
correspondent  would  but  reflect  for  a  moment  on  the  laws 
of  motion,  (and  it  is  only  on  these,  if  I  understand  rightly, 
the  argument  rests,  laying  aside  the  opposing  properties  of 
air  and  gravitation)  I  think  he  would  at  once  abandon  his 
theory  of  shooting;  for  it  must  be  evident  to  the  conside- 
rate mind  that  the  same  laws  will  apply  to  the  projectile 
force  of  a  gun,  as  to  any  other  object.  It  is  a  law  of  motion 
that,  if  a  stone  be  thrown  perpendicularly  into  the  air,  it 
will  fall  upon  the  very  spot  from  whence  it  was  sent;  or  a 
rifle  firmly  fixed,  so  as  to  project  a  ball  in  the  same  perpen- 
dicular manner  into  the  air,  would,  on  the  descent  of  the 
ball  again,  receive  it  back  to  its  original  starting-place. 
Now  it  is  evident,  from  the  earth's  motion,  that  the  projec- 
tile body  must  receive  a  corresponding  impulse,  otherwise 
this  rule  could  not  be  correct.  It  is  computed  that  the  mo- 
tion of  the  earth's  surface  is  at  the  rate  of  950  feet  in  a 


second;  and  if  a  stone  were  projected  to  such  an  height  as  to 
take  but  one  second  for  its  ascent  and  descent,  it  must  follow 
that,  (unless  governed  by  this  impulse)  when  it  reached  the 
ground,  it  would  do  so  at  a  distance  of  950  feet  west  of  the 
spot  from  whence  it  was  thrown.  This  effect,  we  are  con- 
vinced, cannot  take  place.  The  experience  of  every  one 
demonstrates  to  the  contrary;  for  the  motion  of  the  earth  is 
communicated  to  the  stone,  in  common  with  all  other  things 
upon  its  surface.  Again,  if  a  ball  be  dropped  from  the  top 
of  the  mast  of  a  vessel,  under  rapid  sail,  it  will  not  fall  into 
the  sea  behind  the  vessel,  as  might  be  suspected,  but  will 
arrive  on  the  deck,  at  the  foot  of  the  mast.  Also,  a  per- 
son on  horseback,  riding  at  a  fleetness  of  a  mile  in  two 
minutes,  would,  by  throwing  an  object  perpendicularly  into 
the  air,  receive  it  back  into  his  hand  again.  Now,  as  the  mo- 
tion of  the  earth  is  to  the  stone — the  vessel  to  the  ball — the 
fleetness  of  the  horse  to  the  object  thrown  up  by  the  rider — so 
exactlyisthe  swing  of  the  gun,  to  the  contents  projected  from 
it,  at  an  object  in  a  direct  line.  To  depart  from  this  system  of 
reasoning,  all  philosophy  is  confounded,  and  rendered  use- 
less, without  any  other  guide  than  chance  or  misapprehen- 
sion. Upon  this  principle,  aim  might  be  directed  on  a  bird, 
which,  if  possible,  would  describe  a  complete  circle  around 
you,  and  the  gun  hold  her  fire  from  the  commencement 
until  the  bird  had  completed  its  flight,  and  on  the  discharge 
would  strike  the  object,  because,  acting  upon  this  principle, 
which  governs  nature  in  her  movements,  the  projected  body 
cannot  be  diverted  from  the  line  of  aim,  having  partaken  of 
the  motion,  as  before  mentioned.  Persons  may  argue  about 
allowances  before  the  object;  but  it  certainly  does  not  look 
like  either  practice  or  science  in  him  who  upholds  the 
theory;  and  a  man  may  act  strictly  scientifically,  or  accord- 
ing to  the  laws  before  mentioned  in  shooting,  (which,  in  fact, 
as  before  stated,  is  the  case  with  all  of  the  best  shots)  which 
practice  teaches  him  is  correct,  without  being  able  to  des- 
cribe those  laws  that  govern  him  in  this  practice;  and  a 
person  may,  also,  by  much  experience,  be  enabled  to  shoot 
with  a  degree  of  certainty,  on  the  principle  advocated  by 
your  correspondent  I.  T.  S. ;  but  rules  having  their  foun- 
dation in  error,  can  neither  be  depended  on  in  the  many 
contingencies  of  shooting,  or  recommended  to  those  who 
wish  to  embrace  this  enchanting  science  as  a  recreative 
pleasure. 

I  will  merely  say  a  word  or  two  in  relation  to  the 
"  striking  of  shot,"  and  I  am  done.  I  agree  with  I.  T. 
S.  as  to  the  fact  of  shot  being  heard  to  strike.  This 
position  I  have  never  denied — it  is  only  against  the  efli- 
cacy  of  shot,  when  thus  heard,  that  I  contend.  In  the 
discharge  of  the  contents  of  a  gun,  the  proportion  of 
shot  which  take  effect  on  an  object  at  a  distance  of  thirty 
yards,  to  those  that  glance  off,  or  are  diverted  from  the 


11! 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


direct  line  of  aim,  is  as  one  to  30,  and  it  may  by  chance 
occur,  "when  birds,  at  even  a  less  distance  than  one  hun- 
dred yards,  are  struck,  and  sufficiently  hard  to  kill  in- 
stantly," that  the  sound  of  the  action  of  the  shot  may  be 
heard;  but  does  I.  T.  S.  seriously  believe  that  those  shot 
which  produced  this  sound  are  the  elfective  shot? 

Here  again,  I  would  refer  I.  T.  S.  to  the  "production 
of  sound,"  as  a  basis  of  my  argument  against  him.  In  a 
case  like  this,  where  ocular  demonstration  is  unavailing,  we 
can  only  come  to  proof  by  analogous  reasoning  on  philo- 
sophy; and,  in  the  first  place,  I  would  remark  that  sound 
is  created  more  intensely,  frequently,  by  a  weaker,  than  a 
greater  force:  as,  for  instance,  the  stroke  of  a  woodman 
with  his  axe  against  a  tree,  is  heard  at  a  greater  distance 
than  would  the  sound  produced  by  a  ball  propelled  by  a 
cannon,  striking  against  the  same  object;  or  a  rifle  ball 
thrown  by  the  hand  against  a  board  fence,  would  be  heard 
more  distinctly,  than  if  propelled  by  the  gun  itself;  or  shot 
thrown  on  crusted  snow,  will  create  a  rattling  noise,  when, 
if  impelled  by  the  gun,  it  is  too  indistinct  to  be  heard:  and 
yet,  who  does  not  immediately  see  the  infinite  difference 
between  the  propelling  powers;  and  why  does  this  lesser 
power  create  more  sound  than  the  greater?  Simply,  be- 
cause, by  the  action  of  one  body  against  the  other,  a  vibra- 
tory motion  is  produced  in  the  air  by  the  two  sonorous 
bodies,  and  thus  the  sound  is  wafted  to  the  ear;  but  in  the 
case  of  the  cannon,  rifle,  or  gun,  discharging  their  contents 
against  the  same  bodies,  their  vibration  is  destroyed  by 
one  entering  the  other.  So  a  bell,  by  resisting  the  clapper, 
produces  a  very  great  sound;  but  supposing  the  clapper 
stuck  fast  to  the  bell  at  every  stroke,  would  one-fourth  of 
the  sound  be  produced?  No.  Then,  just  so  it  is  with  the 
compact  feathers  of  a  duck  resisting  the  shot  which  pro- 
duces the  sound  so  much  contended  for  by  I.  T  S.  But 
the  effective  shot,  being  impelled  with  so  much  force  as  to 
sink  into  the  flesh  (a  substance  not  sonorous)  vibration  is 
destroyed,  and  it  produces  no  other  sound,  than  by  con- 
densing the  air  between  the  two  surfaces,  which  would  be 
too  indistinct  to  be  heard,  even  at  a  very  trifling  distance. 

I  shall  conclude  my  remarks,  by  observing  that,  how- 
ever I  may  differ  in  my  views  of  the  subject  from  your  cor- 
respondent, to  receive  and  compare  his  ideas,  on  matters 
connected  with  the  science  of  Shooting,  will  ever  be  a 
source  of  gratification  and  plea.sure  to  a 

SPORTSMAN. 


AN  EXCURSION  TO  THE  CHESAPEAKE. 

In  the  fall  of  the  year  1829,  C.  and  myself  contemplated 
visiting  the  Delaware  and  Chesapeake  Canal,  to  gratify  cu- 


riosity in  witnessing  this  important  work,  and  at  the  same 
time  indulge  in  our  favourite  amusement  of  shooting,  which 
the  neighborJiood  of  the  Canal,  Back  Creek,  and  the  Elk 
River,  abundantly  affords.  We  accordingly  started,  and 
arrived  in  good  condition  at  Chesapeake  City,  about  two 
o'clock  of  the  same  day,  much  gratified  with  what  we  had 
seen,  and  delighted  at  the  prospect  of  abundance  of  game, 
and  the  after  part  of  the  day  was  spent  in  reconnoitering 
preparative  to  an  early  start  the  next  morning.  Having 
received  an  invitation  from  our  friend  Mr.  K.,  (who  is  the 
owner  of  some  property  at  a  place  nearly  opposite  where 
an  attempt  is  making  to  raise  a  city,  to  be  called  Bohemia 
City,  but  known  at  present  by  the  name  of  Tick  Town)  to 
accompany  him  on  a  Partridge-shooting  excursion,  we  em- 
braced his  offer,  and,  after  a  day's  hunt,  without  any 
thing  material  occurring,  we  returned  to  our  hotel,  with 
but  few  birds. 

Concluding  the  next  day  would  afibrd  us  better  success, 
we  determined  to  set  ofl"  early,  without  a  guide,  and  with- 
out having  any  particular  place  of  destination  in  view.  Ac- 
cordingly, we  started,  after  an  early  breakfast,  but  the 
morning  being  very  cool,  and  having  frozen  considera- 
bly the  night  before,  rendered  the  ground  over  which  we 
walked  exceedingly  bad,  most  of  it  having  been  newly  ^W 
turned  by  the  plough,  and  towards  the  middle  of  the  day  W^ 
became  thawed,  which  caused  it  to  be  slippery,  and  very 
fatiguing  to  travel  over;  this,  however,  was  relieved  by  oc- 
casionally flushing  a  covey  of  birds.  About  12  o'clock  we 
arrived  on  the  banks  of  Elk  River,  the  beauty  of  which 
amply  repaid  us  for  our  walk.  Hunger  and  thirst  now 
laid  their  heavy  hands  upon  us,  having  started  without 
providing  rations  for  the  day,  a  very  unusual  circumstance 
with  us,  as  we  are  firm  believers  in  the  doctrine  of  supply- 
ing the  stomach  with  at  least  quant,  suff.,  which  caused 
us  to  direct  our  steps  towards  the  first  place  likely  to  fur- 
nish us  with  refreshments;  and  after  following  the  river 
several  miles,  and  noting  an  innumerable  quantity  of  ducks 
with  which  the  river  abounds,  but  entirely  out  of  the  range 
of  our  shot,  we  brought  up  to  a  miserable  looking  house, 
just  as  the  old  woman  and  her  children  were  preparing  to 
sit  down  to  a  dinner,  composed  of  such  materials  as  would 
have  amply  repaid  a  real  disciple  of  the  Epicurean  school 
for  a  walk  of  such  a  distance;  it  was  composed  of  fine  Can- 
vass-back and  Bald-pate  ducks,  with  coffee.  But  how  great 
was  our  disappointment,  when  we  found  the  ducks  were 
cooked  without  a  particle  of  salt,  or  seasoning  of  any  kind, 
and  on  asking  if  they  had  salt  in  the  house,  the  answer  was 
in  the  negative:  when  we  were  thinking  about  applying  a 
substitute  in  ashes,  as  we  had  somewhere  read  the  Indians 
do,  who  make  use  of  this  as  a  substitute  on  their  fish — the 
little  girl  recollected  an  old  fish-barrel  was  in  the  cellar, 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


119 


from  which  a  crystal  of  salt  was  extracted;  and  being 
mashed  between  two  stones,  answered  a  most  admirable 
purpose.  We  now  set  about  our  meal  in  good  earnest;  but 
such  a  substitute  for  bread  as  was  arranged  before  us — being 
made  of  Indian  meal,  but  sour,  and  of  the  consistency  of 
glaziers'  tough  putty — no  vegetables  of  any  kind — the  cof- 
fee thick,  and  no  sweetening — were  sufficient  to  appal  the 
keenest  appetite,  and  put  a  stop  to  further  proceedings.  On 
asking  for  sugar,  the  old  woman  said  she  thought  herself 
doing  very  well  if  she  could  get  coffee;  sugar,  of  course, 
being  a  secondary  consideration.  After  making  a  repast  on 
such  materials,  hungry  men  not  being  particular,  we  learn- 
ed from  the  old  woman  that  her  son  followed  Duck-shoot- 
ing, and  was  in  the  practice  of  selling  his  game  to  Mr. , 

at  the  tavern  where  we  put  up,  to  which  place  he  had  now 
gone  with  some  geese,  as  well  as  ducks.  We  determined 
to  make  our  way  back  to  the  tavern,  in  the  hope  of  meet- 
ing with  and  engaging  him  to  take  us  out  duck-shooting. 
After  a  fatiguing  walk,  we  arrived  just  at  dark,  and  had 
the  pleasure  of  meeting  with  this  sportsman  for  profit,  ac- 
companied by  his  cousin,  who  followed  the  same  business. 
The  first  thing  was  to  secure  the  remaining  geese  and 
ducks,  which  were  left  unsold,  to  our  host,  our  game  bags 
being  in  a  situation  to  hold  considerable  more;  and  as  to  re- 
turn home  without  some  proof  of  our  being  good  shots, 
after  going  so  great  a  distance,  would  only  subject  us  to 
the  jeers  of  our  friends;  we,  therefore,  speedily  arranged 
this  part  of  our  sport,  and  then  agreed  with  them  to  take 
us  out  the  next  morning,  paying  a  full  price  for  their  trou- 
ble. The  plan  of  our  operations  was,  that  one  of  them 
should  station  himself  on  W'elsh's  Point,  at  da3'light,  the 
chance  at  that  time  being  the  most  favourable,  while  the 
other  should  come  for  us  in  the  boat.  Accordingly,  the 
next  morning,  we  were  up  before  the  day  dawned,  and 
after  breakfasting,  our  man  arrived.  The  weather  was  cool 
and  cloudy,  which  made  it  exceeding  unpleasant  to  be 
rowed  a  distance  of  six  miles  in  a  small  boat,  without  the 
ability  of  hardly  stretching  yourself  in  this  miserable  mode 
of  conveyance.  On  our  arrival  at  the  Point,  we  found  our 
man;  but  on  inquiry  ascertained,  to  our  astonishment,  that 
he  had  not  thus  far  shot  a  duck,  and  had  suSered  the  most 
important  part  of  the  day  for  shooting  to  pass  by.     While 

we  were  thus  talking,   says,    "  There  is  a  duck  you 

can  shoot;"  he  immediately  fired,  and  the  duck  fell  into 
the  water:  this  seemed  a  kind  of  evidence  that  the  fellow 
was  not  telling  us  the  truth,  and  we  began  to  suspect  he 
had  been  shooting  and  secreting  them.  One  part  of  our 
bargain  with  these  fellows  was,  to  pay  them  what  they  asked 
for  their  services,  to  furnish  them  with  ammunition,  and 
the  game  they  shot  was  to  be  ours.  We  now  commenced 
loading  our  guns,  and  whilst  preparing  for  action,  's 


attention  was  arrested  by  the  elegant  manner  in  which  this 
man's  dog  (a  large  half-bred  Newfoundland)  was  seen,  with- 
out any  direction  from  his  master,  to  go  into  the  water,  and 
bring  the  duck,  and  could  not  refrain  from  going  up  to  him 
and  caressing  him,  when  he  immediately  attacked  him,  and 
bit  him  in  the  hand,  and  lacerated  it  considerably,  the  pain 
from  which  alone  would,  on  any  ordinary  occasion,  have 
had  the  effect  to  destroy  his  sport  for  that  time. 

An  innumerable  quantity  of  ducks  were  now  to  be  seen 
swimming  in  the  river  and  flying  in  all  directions:  in  fact, 
to  those  who  have  never  been  there,  and  witnessed  the 
numbers  which  are  oftentimes  to  be  seen,  it  would  be  in- 
credible. Our  men  proposed  that  we  should  remain  on  the 
Point,  whilst  they  would  go  out  in  the  boat,  and  endeavour 
to  alarm  the  ducks,  so  that  they  should  fly  across  the  Point 
where  we  were  secreted ;  and,  as  the  dog  would  not  stay 
with  us,  they  would  take  him  along  also,  and  return  in  time 
to  pick  up  any  ducks  we  should  shoot  that  might  fall  in  the 
water.  They  had  not  departed  but  a  short  time  before  it 
commenced  raining,  intermixed  with  snow;  but  this  did 
not  lessen  our  zeal,  as  we  soon  had  several  fine  canvass- 
backs  down  in  the  water;  but  they  floated  from  us,  and,  as 
our  men  did  not  come  in  as  they  promised,  we  lost  sight  of 
them  entirely,  and  so  in  a  short  time  were  lost  many  other 
ducks  also.  Towards  the  close  of  the  day,  a  boat  was  seen 
approaching  us,  which  turned  out  to  be  our  men,  and  to 
compensate  us,  we  expected  they  had  been  very  successful, 
which  alone  could  have  induced  them  to  play  us  such  an 
unfair  game,  and  leave  us  so  situated  as  to  be  prevented 
from  getting  those  which  we  shot,  or  from  leaving  the 
place  we  were  on,  without  considerable  difficulty.  But 
judge  of  our  surprise,  when  these  caiti^'s  very  gravely  in- 
formed us  they  had  not  shot  a  single  duck!  Our  suspicions 
were  now  confirmed,  that  they  were  not  content  with  get- 
ting what  they  asked  for  their  services,  but  the  ready  sale, 
and  high  price  of  these  ducks,  had  operated  upon  them  to 
conceal  the  game  until  we  had  departed.  Impressed  that 
no  advantage  would  result  from  quarrelling  with  them,  we 
concluded  to  make  the  best  of  it,  and  proposed  to  embark 
immediately,  as  we  were  wet,  and  almost  perishing  with 
cold;  and  after  enjoying  i\^& pleasures  resulting  from  being 
rowed  back  a  distance  of  five  or  six  miles,  in  our  wet 
clothes,  the  rain  and  sleet  pelting  us  all  the  way,  we  ar- 
rived at  the  tavern  pretty  well  changed  in  our  feelings  with 
regard  to  the  anticipated  pleasures  of  Chesapeake  Duck- 
shooting,  and  determined  to  start  for  home  in  the  morning, 
after  buying  all  the  game  the  tavern-keeper  had,  together 
with  that  which  we  purchased  before,  and  the  little 
we  had  got  secundurn  arteni,  being  put  into  a  large 
box,  and  taking  special  care  that  it  should  be  stripped  in 
such  manner  that  the  game  should  be  fully  exposed,  we 


120 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


left  this  place,  where  we  were  well  satisfied  we  had  been 
charged  at  a  good  price  for  other  matters  besides  ducks. 
But  all  these  vexatious  circumstances,  Mr.  Editors,  were 
counterbalanced  by  the  gratification  we  experienced  where- 
over  our  box  was  seen,  by  some  such  remarks  as  these: 
"Why,  gentlemen,  you  have  had  grand  luck!" — "Are 
these  your  birds?  Wild  geese  too!" — and  some  ganders 
would  ask  us  if  these  were  not 

SWAN. 


VERNAL  NATURE. 

"  The  lime  of  the  singing  of  birds  is  come." 

There's  a  voice  from  the  woods! — The  winter  had  set 
His  seal  of  ice  where  the  flow'rets  met, 
And  long  had  he  held  his  chilly  reign, 
With  storm  and  sleet,  o'er  the  frozen  plain. 
And  his  purest  garlands  of  snow  were  hung 
On  the  ancient  oak  and  the  sapling  young, 
And  the  sigh  of  the  bleak  and  northern  breeze, 
Was  all  that  was  heard  from  the  leafless  trees. 

The  streams  that  had  murmur'd  thro'  summer's  sway, 

Then  silently  crept  on  their  gloomy  way, 

For  their  voices  were  chok'd  by  the  tyrannous  force 

Which  Winter  had  set  on  their  rippling  course  ; 

The  shrill  cicada  that  woke  the  night, 

Had  shrunk  away  from  the  season's  blight. 

For  the  hoary  monarch  had  utter'd  lis  will, 

And  the  sounds  from  the  forest  were  hush'd  and  still. 

But  now  there's  a  voice  from  the  woods  again! — 

It  is  not  the  language  nor  voice  of  men; 

It  comes  with  a  murmur  soft  and  low, 

A  sound  that  Nature  is  glad  to  know, 

Because  it  tells  that  the  winter  is  past. 

That  there's  nought  to  fear  from  his  raving  blast, 

That  the  sceptre  has  dropp'd  from  his  palsied  hand, 

And  Spring  has  come  back  to  refresh  the  land. 

There's  a  voice  from  the  woods! — 'Tis   the   rushing 

streams, 
That  melt  in  the  sun's  reviving  beams; 
From  their  mountain  holds  in  their  joy  they  foam, 
And  leap,  like  the  kids  that  around  them  roam; 
Away,  from  rock  to  rock,  they  go. 
Tossing  their  waters  to  and  fro, 


As  if  they  were  things  of  life,  to  be 
Awake  to  the  feelings  of  liberty. 

There's  a  voice  from  the  woods! — 'Tis  the  voice  of  flower 

That  breathe  perfume  from  their  forest  bowers. 

As,  peeping  forth  from  their  close  retreat. 

They  open  their  leaves  the  spring  to  greet. 

And  when  the  earth  is  array'd  in  green. 

With  their  light  blue  petals  are  modestly  seen; 

Or  drest  in  their  beautiful  robes  of  red, 

Along  its  surface  their  odours  shed. 

There's  a  voice  from  the  woods! — 'Tis  the  warbler's  son| 

That  comes  in  melody,  sweet  and  strong, 

From  the  depth  of  the  gi'ove,  on  the  balmy  air, 

The  first  assurance  that  Spring  is  there; 

The  wild  deer  arches  his  neck  to  hear, 

And  drinks  in  the  sound  with  a  joyous  ear. 

For  it  tells  him  that  Nature  again  is  awake. 

And  he  hurries  to  seek  her,  by  mountain  and  lake. 

0  there's  joy  in  the  wood  where  the  blue-bird  has  sung. 
For  it  tells,  tho'  the  shoots  and  the  flowers  are  young, 
That  the  forest  again  will  be  cover'd  with  leaves — 
That  the  field  will  again  have  its  burthen  of  sheaves — 
That  the  bounties  and  blessings  that  come  in  its  train. 
Will  return  with  the  season  of  dew-drops  and  rain; 
0  well  may  the  poet  thy  eulogy  sing, 
And  hail  thy  wild  melody,  herald  of  Spring! 

C.  W.   T. 


MYSTERIOUS  SOUNDS. 

The  wide  spread  sail  of  a  ship,  rendered  concave  by  a 
gentle  breeze,  is  a  good  collector  of  sound.  "  It  hap- 
pened," says  Dr.  Arnott,  "once,  on  board  a  ship  sailing 
along  the  coast  of  Brazil,  far  out  of  sight  of  land,  that  the 
persons  walking  on  deck,  when  passing  a  particular  spot, 
always  heard  very  distinctly  the  sound  of  bells,  varying  as 
in  human  rejoicings.  All  on  board  came  to  listen,  and  were 
convinced;  but  the  phenomenon  was  most  mj'sterious. 
INIonths  afterwards,  it  was  ascertained  that,  at  the  time  of 
observation,  the  bells  of  the  city  of  St.  Salvador,  on  the 
Brazilian  coast,  had  been  ringing  on  the  occasion  of  a  festi- 
val; their  sound,  therefore,  favoured  by  a  gentle  wind,  had 
travelled,  perhaps,  one  hundred  miles  by  smooth  water, 
and  had  been  brought  to  a  focus  by  the  sail  on  the  particu- 
lar situation,  or  deep,  where  it  was  listened  to.  It  appears, 
from  this,  that  a  machine  might  be  constructed,  having  the 
same  relation  to  sound  that  a  telescope  has  to  sight." 

Edin.  Phil.  Jour. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


GRISLY  BEAR. 
UHSUS  HORRIBILIS.. 

[Plate  XL] 

Grisly  Bear.  Mackenzie,  voyages  Si-c.  160. — Gj-isly, 
brown,  white  and  variegated  Bear.  Lewis  &  Clark. 
— Grizzly  Bear.  Warden's  United  States.  Godman 
Nat.  Hist.  i.  p.  131.  —  Ursus  Horribilis.  Ord.  Say. 
Expedit.  to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  ii.  p.  52. —  Ursus 
Cinereus.  Desm.  Mammal.  —  Ursus  Ferox.  Lewis  & 
Clark.  Richardson.  Faun.  An.  bor.  24.  —  Ursus 
Candescens.  Hamilton  Smith.  Griffith's  and  King. 
ii.  p.  229.  &  5.  No.  320.— Pe ale's  Museum. 

The  Grisly  Bear  belongs  to  a  division  of  the  carnivora, 
which,  although  far  less  sanguinary  than  the  other  groups 
of  his  formidable  order,  and  endowed  with  a  faculty  of 
wholly  subsisting  on  vegetable  food,  nevertheless  contains 
some  of  the  largest  and  most  powerful  of  the  destructive 
mammalia.  This  division,  which  comprehends  several 
very  closely  allied  genera,  is  termed  Plantigrade,  the  indi- 
viduals comprising  it  treading  on  the  whole  sole  of  the  foot, 
thus  enabling  them  to  raise  and  maintain  themselves  on 
their  hinder  legs  with  great  facility.  They  have  five  toes 
on  each  foot,  and  are  generally  sluggish  in  their  gait. 

The  genus  LTrsus,  or  the  Bears,  is  characterised  by  their 
complete  plantigrade  walk,  from  their  claws,  which  are  five 
in  number,  incurved,  large,  and  powerful,  from  the  short- 
ness of  their  tail,  and  from  the  peculiarities  of  their  dental 
system.  They  are  extremely  powerful,  but  clumsj^,  slug- 
gish, and  uncouth,  generally  feed  on  vegetable  substances 
being  in  fact  but  semi-carnivorous.  They  will,  how- 
ever, sometimes  destroy  the  smaller  animals,  and,  in  case 
of  necessity,  will  subsist  on  fish.  They  are  also  very  fond 
of  honey,  and  notwithstanding  the  clumsiness  of  their  con- 
formation, exhibit  no  slight  degree  of  agility  in  mounting 
trees  in  search  of  it.  They  never  attack  man  except  in 
self-defence,  or  under  the  influence  of  severe  hunger  ;  and  it 
is  reported,  that  in  the  latter  state  they  will  associate  toge- 
ther in  search  of  animal  food.  Both  sexes  retire  in  the  win- 
ter, and  the  period  of  parturition  with  the  female  is  in  the 
spring,  after  a  gestation  of  seven  months,  when  she  produces 
from  one  to  five  at  a  birth. 

Great  confusion  has  existed  in  the  determination  and  clas- 
sification of  the  difi-erent  species  ;  all  the  discussions  that  have 
been  entered  mto,  in  the  hopes  of  elucidating  this  question, 
have  ended  in  an  acknowledgment  of  the  difficulty  of  the 
undertaking.  This  is  particularly  the  case  with  the  Bears 
with  brown  fur,  approaching  more  or  less  to  black  on  the 
H  h 


one  side,  and  on  the  other  to  the  lighter  tints.  Thus  Cu- 
vier,  in  his  last  edition,  says,  that  he  is  by  no  means  convin- 
ced that  any  specific  difference  exists  between  the  subject 
of  our  present  illustration,  and  the  Brown  Bear  of  Europe. 

The  only  mode  in  which  questions  of  this  nature  can  be 
satisfactorily  settled,  is  accurately  to  describe  and  represent 
such  specimens  as  occur  in  diflerent  countries,  so  that  in 
time  an  approximation  and  comparison  of  them,  in  all  the 
details  of  their  organization,  can  be  properly  made. 

The  Grisly  Bear  is  indubitably  the  most  formidable  and 
powerful  of  all  the  quadrupeds  which  inhabit  the  northern 
regions  of  the  American  continent  ;  and  it  is  not  to  be  won- 
dered at,  that  a  victory  over  an  animal  of  such  strength  and 
ferocity,  should  be  considered  of  such  importance  among  the 
native  tribes  inhabiting  the  inhospitable  regions  where  it  is 
now  found. 

Mr.  Say,  who  was  the  first  naturalist  that  describes  this 
species,  gives  the  following  account  of  it:  ''Hair  long,  short 
on  the  front,  very  short  between  and  anterior  to  the  e.ves, 
blacker  and  coarser  on  the  legs  and  feet,  longer  on  "the 
shoulders,  throat,  behind  the  thighs,  and  beneath  the  belly, 
paler  on  the  snout;  ears  short,  rounded ;//-o;i^  arcuated,  the 
line  of  the  profile  continued  upon  the  snout,  without  any  in- 
dentation between  the  eyes  ;  eyes  very  small,  destitute  of 
any  remarkable  supplemental  lid  ;  iris  of  a  burnt  sienna  or 
light  reddish  brown  colour,  mufile  of  the  nostrils  black,  the 
sinus  very  distinct  and  profound  ;  %?,  particularly  the 
superior,  anteriorly  extensive,  with  a  few  rigid  hairs  or 
bristles,  tail  very  short,  concealed  by  the  hair.  The  hair 
gradually  diminishes  in  length  upon  the  leg,  but  the  upper 
part  oi  the  foot  is  more  amply  furnished.  Teeth,  incisors 
six,  the  lateral  one  with  a  tubercle  on  the  exterior  side, 
canines  large,  robust,  prominent,  a  single  false  molar  be- 
hind the  canine,  remaining  molars  four,  of  which  the 
anterior  one  is  very  small,  that  of  the  upper  particularly, 
that  of  the  lower  jaw  resembling  the  second  false  molar  of 
the  dog. 

",/lnteriorfeet,  claws  elongated,  slender  fingers  with  five 
sub-oval  naked  tubercles,  separated  from  the  palm,  from 
each  other,  and  from  the  base  of  the  claws  by  dense  hair, 
palm  on  its  anterior  half  naked,  transversely  oval,  base  of 
the  palm  with  a  rounded  naked  tubercle,  surrounded  by 
hair.  Posterior  feet  with  the  sole  naked,  the  nails  mode- 
rate, more  arcuated  and  shorter  than  those  of  the  anterior. 
The  nails  do  not  diminish  in  the  least  in  width  at  tip,  but 
they  become  smaller  towards  that  part,  by  diminishing  from 
beneath.  The  Grisly  Bears  vary  exceedingly  in  colour, 
and  pass  through  the  intermediate  gradations,  from  a  dark 
brown  to  a  pale  fulvous  or  greyish."* 

*  ExpeJilinn  to  llie  Rocky  Moumaiiis.  \o\.  II,  p.  bt. 


122 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


The  accounts  of  the  dimensions  of  these  animals  difier  ; 
they  are  reported  to  attain  a  weight  exceeding  800  pounds, 
and  Lewis  and  Clark  mention  one  that  measured  nine  feet 
in  length,  and  add,  that  they  had  seen  a  still  larger  one,  but 
do  not  give  its  dimensions.  Governor  Clinton  received  in- 
telligence of  one  said  to  be  fourteen  feet  long,  but  even  ad- 
mitting that  there  was  no  exaggeration  in  this  statement,  it 
is  probable  that  the  admeasurements  were  taken  from  a  skin 
which  had  been  stretched.  The  dimensions  given  by  Mr. 
Say,  which  were  taken  from  the  two  prepared  specimens  in 
the  Philadelphia  Museum,  by  no  means  give  an  idea  of  the 
size  to  which  this  animal  attains,  as  these  individuals  died 
before  they  had  reached  their  full  growth  ;  these  measure- 
ments are  however  valuable  as  presenting  a  correct  view 
of  the  proportions  of  different  parts  of  the  body. 

From  the  account  of  Mr.  Say,  it  appears  that  the  Grisly 
Bear  differs  from  the  other  species  of  the  genus,  by  the 
elongation  of  its  anterior  claws,  and  the  rectilinear  or  slight- 
ly arcuated  form  of  its  facial  profile.  Its  nearest  approach 
is  to  the  Norwegian  variety  of  the  Alpine  Bear,  ( U.  Jirc- 
tos,)  from  which  however  it  differs  in  the  particulars  just 
stated,  and  by  its  shorter  and  more  conical  ears.  The 
soles  of  its  feet  are  longer  and  its  heel  broader  than  those 
of  the  Brown  Bear  of  Europe.  The  shortness  of  its  tail 
is  also  another  remarkable  characteristic.  Dr.  Richardson 
says  it  is  a  standing  joke  among  the  Indian-hunters,  when 
they  have  killed  a  Grisly  Bear,  to  desire  any  one  unac- 
quainted with  the  animal,  to  take  hold  of  its  tail. 

The  size  of  the  feet  and  claws  of  this  Bear,  is  a  very 
striking  peculiarity  of  the  species  ;  of  this  some  idea  may  be 
formed  from  the  measurements  given  by  Lewis  and  Clark. 
These  gentlemen  inform  us,  that  the  breadth  of  the  fore  foot, 
in  one  of  the  individuals  observed  by  them,  exceeded  nine 
inches,  whilst  the  length  of  the  hind  foot,  exclusive  of  the 
claws,  was  eleven  inches  and  three  quarters,  and  its  breadth 
seven  inches.  The  claws  of  the  fore  feet  of  another  speci- 
men measured  more  than  six  inches.  The  latter,  as  we 
have  said,  are  considerably  longer,  and  less  curved  than  those 
of  the  hind  feet,  and  do  not  narrow  in  a  lateral  direction  as 
they  approach  their  extremit}',  but  diminish  only  from  be- 
neath, the  point  is  consequently  formed  by  the  shelving  of 
the  inferior  surface  alone,  their  breadth  remaining  the  same 
throughout  the  whole  of  their  enormous  length,  and  their 
power  being  proportionally  increased  ;  an  admirable  pro- 
vision for  enabling  the  animal  to  exercise  to  the  fullust  ex- 
tent his  propensity  for  digging  up  the  ground,  either  in 
search  of  food,  or  for  other  purposes.  It  appears,  however, 
on  the  other  hand,  to  unfit  him  for  climbing  trees,  which  he 
never  attempts. — These  claws  are  worn  by  the  Indians  as 
necklaces,  and  the  fortunate  individual  who  procures  them 
by  tlae  destruction  of  the  animal  is  highly  honoured. 


Of  the  strength  of  this  Bear,  some  estimation  may  be 
formed,  from  its  having  been  known  to  drag  the  carcass  of 
a  Buffiilo,  weighing  at  least  a  thousand  pounds,  to  a  con- 
siderable distance.  Dr.  Richardson  gives  the  following 
story  which  he  says  is  well  authenticated.  "A  party  of 
voyagers,  who  had  been  employed  all  day  in  tracking  a 
canoe  up  the  Saskatchewan,  had  seated  themselves  in  the 
the  twilight  by  a  fire,  and  were  busy  in  preparing  their 
supper,  when  a  large  Grisly  Bear  sprung  over  their  canoe 
that  was  tilted  behind  them,  and  seizing  one  of  the  party  by 
the  shoulder  carried  him  off.  The  rest  all  fled  in  terror 
with  the  exception  of  a  Metif,  named  Bourasso,  who  grasp- 
ing his  gun  followed  the  Bear  as  it  was  retreating  leisurely 
with  its  prey.  He  called  to  his  unfortunate  comrade  that 
he  was  afraid  of  hitting  him,  if  he  fired  at  the  Bear,  but  the 
latter  entreated  him  to  fire  immediately,  without  hesitation, 
as  the  Bear,  was  squeezing  him  to  death,  on  this  he  took  a 
deliberate  aim,  and  discharged  his  piece  into  the  body  of 
the  Bear,  which  instantly  dropped  its  prey  to  pursue  Bou- 
rasso. He  escaped  with  diiBculty,  and  the  Bear  ultimately 
retreated  to  a  thicket,  where  it  was  supposed  to  have  died, 
but  the  curiosity  of  the  party  not  being  a  match  for  their 
fears,  the  fact  of  its  decease  was  not  ascertained.  The  man 
who  was  rescued  had  his  arm  fractured,  and  was  otherwise 
severely  bitten  by  the  Bear,  but  finally  recovered."* 

The  blow  they  can  inflict  with  their  fore  paws  is  very  se- 
vere, and  from  the  size  of  the  claws  is  often  productive  of 
serious  consequences.  The  writer  we  have  just  quoted  also 
mentions,  that  he  was  informed  that  there  was  a  man  living 
in  the  neighborhood  of  one  of  the  British  trading  posts, 
who  was  attacked  by  a  Grisly  Bear,  which  sprung  out  of  a 
thicket,  and  with  one  stroke  of  its  paw,  completely  scalped 
him,  laying  bare  the  scull,  and  bringing  the  skin  of  the 
forehead  down  over  the  eyes.  Assistance  coming  up,  the 
Bear  made  off  without  doing  him  further  injury,  but  the 
scalp  not  being  replaced,  the  poor  man  lost  his  sight;  al- 
though he  thinks  that  his  eyes  are  uninjured.  Another  in- 
stance of  the  same  kind  is  given  in  Long's  Expedition,  of  a 
hunter  having  received  a  blow  from  the  fore  paw  of  one  of 
these  animals,  which  destroyed  his  eye  and  crushed  his 
cheek  bone. 

The  Grisly  Bear  is  carnivorous,  and,  where  excited  by 
hunger,  will  indiscriminately  slaughter  every  creature  that 
cannot  elude  his  pursuit,  but  he  also  will  occasionally  feed 
on  vegetables,  and  is  observed  to  be  particularly  fond  of  the 
roots  of  some  species  of  Psoralea  and  Hedysarum.  They 
also  eat  the  fruits  of  various  shrubs,  as  the  bird  cherry,  the 
choke  cherry,  and  the  Hippophae  canadensis,  which  latter 
produces  a  powerful  cathartic  effect  on  them. 

The  young  and   gravid  females  hibernate,  but  the    old 

*Ricliardson.  Faun.  Am.  Bor.  27. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


123 


males  are  found  abroad  at  all  seasons  in  quest  of  food. 
Mackenzie  speaks  of  a  den  of  these  animals  which  was  ten 
feet  wide,  five  feet  high,  and  six  feet  long.  As  this  Bear 
roams  over  the  snow,  its  foot  marks  are  frequently  seen  in 
the  spring,  and  when  there  is  a  crust  upon  the  snow,  the 
weight  of  the  animal  often  causes  it  to  crack  and  sink  for  a 
considerable  distance  round  the  spot  trod  upon.  These  im- 
pressions, somewhat  obscured  by  a  partial  thaw,  have  been 
considered  as  the  vestiges  of  an  enormously  large  and  un- 
known quadruped,  and  perhaps  have  given  rise  to  the  re- 
ports of  there  being  live  Mammoths  on  the  Rocky  moun- 
tains. 

The  Grisly  Bear  is  now  found  in  the  range  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  and  the  plains  lying  to  the  eastward  of  them,  as 
far  as  latitude  61°,  and  perhaps  even  farther  north.  Accord- 
ing to  Pike,  it  occurs  as  far  south  as  Mexico.  Lewis  and 
Clark  could  not  ascertain  whether  it  inhabited  the  country 
between  the  western  declivity  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  and 
the  sea  coast.  Dr.  Richardson,  on  the  authority  of  Mr. 
Drummond,  says,  they  are  most  numerous  in  the  woody 
district  skirting  the  eastern  base  of  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
especially  where  there  are  open  prairies  and  grassy  hills. 
From  the  traditions  existing  among  the  Delaware  Indians 
respecting  the  big  naked  Bear,  the  last  of  which  they  be- 
lieve dwelt  to  the  east  of  the  Hudson  river,  there  is  some 
ground  for  a  belief  that  this  animal  once  inhabited  the  At- 
lantic States. 

The  Grisly  Bear  appears  to  be  very  tenacious  of  life. 
Mr.  Say  infoi'ms  us,  one  lived  two  hours,  after  having 
been  shot  through  the  lungs,  and  whilst  in  this  state,  pre- 
pared a  bed  for  himself  in  the  earth,  two  feet  deep,  and  five 
feet  long,  having  previously  run  a  mile  and  a  half.  It  is, 
in  fact,  very  difficult  to  kill  one  of  these  animals  by  a  single 
shot,  except  the  ball  penetrates  the  brain  or  the  heart,  and 
this  seldom  is  effected  from  the  form  of  the  skull  in  the  first 
case,  and  the  thick  coat  of  hair  in  the  latter.  To  give  a 
better  idea  of  the  danger  attendant  on  the  chase  of  these 
bears,  we  select  the  following  instance  from  Lewis  and 
Clark: 

One  evening  the  men  in  the  hindmost  of  one  of  Lewis 
and  Clark's  canoes  perceived  one  of  those  Bears  lying  in 
the  open  ground  about  three  hundred  paces  from  Ihe  river, 
and  six  of  them,  who  were  all  good  hunters,  went  to  attack 
him.  Concealing  themselves  by  a  small  eminence,  they 
were  able  to  approach  within  forty  paces  unperceived;  four 
of  the  hunters  now  fired,  and  each  lodged  a  ball  in  his  body, 
two  of  which  passed  directly  through  the  lungs.  The  Bear 
sprang  up  and  ran  furiously  with  open  mouth  upon  them ; 
two  of  the  hunters,  who  had  reserved  their  fire,  gave  him 
two  additional  wounds,  and  one  breaking  his  shoulder- 
blade,  somewhat  retarded  his  motions.     Before  they  could 


again  load  their  guns,  he  came  so  close  on  them,  that  they 
were  obliged  to  run  towards  the  river,  and  before  they  had 
gained  it,  the  Bear  had  almost  overtaken  them.  Two  men 
jumped  into  the  canoe;  the  other  four  separated,  and  con- 
cealing themselves  among  the  willows,  fired  as  fast  as  they 
could  load  their  pieces.  Several  times  the  Bear  was  struck, 
but  each  shot  seemed  only  to  direct  his  fury  towards  the 
hunter;  at  last  he  pursued  them  so  closely  that  they  threw 
aside  their  guns  and  pouches,  and  jumped  down  a  perpendi- 
cular bank,  twenty  feet  high,  into  the  river.  The  Bear 
sprang  after  them,  and  was  very  near  the  hindmost  man, 
when  one  of  the  hunters  on  shore,  shot  him  through  the 
head,  and  finally  killed  him.  On  examination,  it  was  found 
that  eight  balls  had  passed  through  his  body  in  different  di- 
rections. 

Another  instance  is  recorded  by  these  travellers  of  the 
same  character.  An  individual  received  five  balls  through 
his  lungs,  and  five  other  wounds;  notwithstanding  which  he 
swam  more  than  half  across  a  river  to  a  sand  bar,  and  sur- 
vived upwards  of  twenty  minutes. 

From  these  and  analogous  facts,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered 
at  that  even  white  hunters  should  be  willing  to  avoid  an  en- 
counter with  so  formidable  an  adversary,  and  that  the  In- 
dians, mostly  unprovided  with  fire-arms,  should  never  attack 
him,  except  in  parties  of  six  or  eight,  for  having  no  wea- 
pons but  bows  and  arrows,  or  the  bad  guns  with  which  the 
traders  supply  them,  they  are  obliged  to  approach  very  near 
the  Bear,  and  as  no  wounds,  except  as  we  have  stated, 
through  the  head  or  heart,  are  fatal,  they  frequently  fall  a 
sacrifice  if  they  miss  their  aim. 

<'  It  appears,  however,  that  the  Bear  will  not  attack  man 
unless  enraged  or  pressed  by  hunger.  Mr.  Drummond,  the 
botanist,  in  his  excursions  over  the  Rocky  mountains,  had 
frequent  opportunities  ofobserving  the  manners  of  the  Grisly 
Bears;  and  it  often  happened,  that  in  turning  the  point  of  a 
rock  or  sharp  angle  of  a  valle)^,  he  came  suddenly  on  one 
or  more  of  them.  On  such  occasions  they  reared  on  their 
hind  legs,  and  made  a  loud  noise  like  a  person  breathing 
quick,  but  much  harsher.  He  kept  his  ground,  without  at- 
tempting to  molest  them,  and  they  on  their  part,  after  atten- 
tively regarding  him  for  some  time,  gradually  wheeled 
round  and  gallopped  off,  though  there  is  little  doubt  but  that 
he  would  have  been  torn  to  pieces  had  he  lost  his  presence 
of  mind  and  attempted  to  fly.  When  he  discovered  them 
from  a  distance,  he  usually  frightened  them  by  beating  on 
a  large  tin  box,  in  which  he  carried  his  specimens  of  plants. 
He  never  saw  more  than  four  together,  and  two  of  these 
he  supposes  to  have  been  cubs.  He  was  only  once  attacked 
and  then  by  a  female,  for  the  purpose  of  allowing  her 
cubs  time  to  escape.  His  gun  on  this  occasion  missed  fire, 
but  he  kept  her  at  bay  with  the  stock  of  it,  until  some  gen- 


124 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


tleman  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company,  with  whom  he  was 
travelling,  came  up,  and  drove  her  off.  In  the  latter  end 
of  June,  1826,  he  observed  a  male  caressing  a  female,  and 
soon  afterwards,  they  both  came  towards  him,  but  whether 
accidentally,  or  for  the  purpose  of  attacking  him,  he  was 
uncertain.  He  ascended  a  tree,  and  as  the  female  drew  near, 
fired  at  and  mortally  wounded  her.  She  uttered  a  few  loud 
screams,  which  threw  the  male  into  a  violent  rage,  and  he 
reared  up  against  the  trunk  of  the  tree  in  which  Mr.  Drum- 
mond  was  seated,  but  never  attempted  to  ascend  it."*  This 
mode  of  escaping  by  ascending  trees  is  frequently  practised 
by  hunters  when  pursued.  Two  instances  are  related  by 
Lewis  and  Clark,  and  many  others  are  to  be  found  in  the 
various  authors  who  treat  of  this  animal,  where  a  hunter 
has  been  held  a  close  prisoner  for  many  hours,  by  the 
infuriated  animal  keeping  watch  at  the  foot  of  the  tree. 

Notwithstanding  the  ferocity  of  the  Grisly  Bear,  it  would 
seem,  that  he  is  capable  of  a  certain  degree  of  domestication, 
especially  when  young.  Governor  Clinton  says  "that 
Dixon,  an  Indian  trader,  told  a  friend  of  his,  that  this  ani- 
mal had  been  seen  fourteen  feet  long;  that  notwithstandingits 
ferocity  it  had  been  occasionally  domesticated,  and  that  an 
Indian,  belonging  to  a  tribe  on  the  head  waters  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi, had  one  in  a  reclaimed  state,  which  he  sportively 
directed  to  go  into  a  canoe  belonging  to  another  tribe  of  In- 
dians, then  returning  from  a  visit ;  the  Bear  obeyed,  and 
was  struck  by  an  Indian ;  being  considered  as  one  of  the 
famil)',  this  was  deemed  an  insult,  resented  accordingly, 
and  produced  a  war  between  these  nations. t 

It  is  also  stated  in  Long's  Expedition  that  a  half-grown  in- 
dividual was  kept  chained  in  the  yard  of  the  Missouri  Fur 
Company,  near  Engineer  Cantonment,  and  chiefly  fed  on 
vegetable  substances;  as  it  was  observed,  that  he  became 
furious  when  too  plentifully  supplied  with  an  animal  diet. 
He  was  in  continual  motion  during  the  greater  part  of  the 
day,  pacing  backwards  and  forwards  to  the  extent  of  his 
chain.  His  attendants  ventured  to  play  with  him,  though 
in  a  reserved  manner,  fearful  of  trusting  him  too  far,  or  of 
placing  themselves  absolutely  within  his  grasp ;  he  several 
times  broke  loose  from  his  chain,  on  which  occasions  he 
would  manifest  the  utmost  joy,  running  about  the  yard  in 
every  direction,  rearing  upon  his  hind  feet,  and  capering 
about.  "I  was  present  on  one  of  these  occasions,"  ob- 
serves Mr.  Say,  "  the  squaws  and  children  belonging  to  the 
establishment,  ran  precipitately  to  their  huts  and  closed  the 
doors;  he  appeared  much  delighted  with  his  temporary 
freedom,  and  ran  to  the  dogs  which  were  straying  about 
the  yard,  but  they  avoided  him.  In  his  round  he  came  to 
me,  and  rearing  up,  placed  his  paws  upon  my  breast ;  wish- 


ing to  rid  myself  of  so  rough  a  playfellow,  I  turned  him 
around,  upon  which  he  ran  down  the  bank  of  the  river, 
plunged  into  the  water,  and  swam  about  for  some  time."* 

]\Iost  of  our  Philadelphia  readers  must  remember  the 
two  young  bears  of  this  species  which  formerly  were  kept  in 
the  Menagerie  of  Peale's  Museum.  These  individuals  were 
procured  by  Pike,  when  on  his  expedition,  about  1600 
miles  from  the  nearest  American  post,  and  kept  with  the  in- 
tention of  presenting  them  to  Mr.  Jefferson,  then  president 
of  the  United  States.  When  Pike  first  obtained  them,  they 
were  carried  for  three  or  four  days  in  the  laps  of  his  men  on 
horseback,  and  afterwards  in  cage  on  a  mule,  but  were  al- 
ways let  out,  wherever  the  party  halted.  By  this  treat- 
ment, they  became  extremely  docile  when  at  liberty,  fol- 
lowing the  men  like  dogs.  When  well  supplied  with  food 
they  would  play  like  young  puppies  with  each  other  and 
the  soldiers ;  but  the  instant  they  were  shut  up  in  their  cage 
they  became  cross  and  surly,  and  would  worry  each  other 
until  they  were  so  exliausted  that  they  were  incapable  of 
further  exertion. 

When  ]Mr.  Peale  received  them,  they  were  about  a  year 
old,  and  tolerably  docile,  but  soon  gave  indications  of  the 
natural  ferocity  of  their  species.  "As  thej'  increased  in 
size  they  became  exceedingly  dangerous,  seizing  and  tear- 
ing to  pieces  every  animal  they  could  lay  hold  of,  and  ex- 
pressing extreme  eagerness  to  get  at  those  accidentally 
brought  within  sight  of  their  cage,  by  grasping  the  iron  bars 
with  their  paws  and  shaking  them  violently,  to  the  great 
terror  of  spectators,  who  felt  insecure  while  witnessing  such 
displays  of  their  strength.  In  one  instance  an  unfortunate 
monkey  was  walking  over  the  top  of  their  cage,  when  the 
end  of  the  chain  which  hung  from  his  waist  dropped  through 
within  reach  of  the  Bears  ;  they  immediately  seized  it, 
dragged  the  screaming  animal  through  the  narrow  aper- 
ture, tore  him  limb  from  limb,  and  devoured  his  mangled 
carcass  almost  instantaneously.  At  another  time  a  small 
monkey  thrust  his  arm  through  an  opening  in  the  cage  to 
reach  some  object ;  one  of  them  immediately  seized  him, 
and  with  a  sudden  jerk,  tore  the  whole  arm  and  shoulder- 
blade  from  the  body,  and  devoured  it  before  any  one  could 
interfere.  They  were  still  cubs,  and  very  little  more  than 
half  grown,  when  their  ferocity  became  so  alarming  as  to 
excite  continual  apprehension  lest  they  should  escape,  and 
they  were  killed  in  order  to  prevent  such  an  event,  "t 
Their  skins  were  ably  prepared,  and  now  form  part  of  the 
interesting  collection  in  the  Philadelphia  Museum. 

There  is  also  a  full  grown  specimen  in  the  Tower  of  Lon- 
don, which  was  presented  to  George  the  III.  about  seven- 
teen years  since,  by  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company.     This 

*  l.onj^'s  ExpeHiiion  lo  Ihe  Rockv  fllountains,  vol.  2  p.  55. 
t  Godman's  .Nai.  llisl.  Vol.  1.  p.  133, 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


size  is  far  superior  to  any  Bear  that  has  ever  been  seen  in 
Europe,  and  his  ferocity  in  spite  of  the  length  of  time  dur- 
ing which  he  has  been  a  prisoner,  and  the  attempts  that 
have  been  made  to  conciliate  him,  still  continues  undimi- 
nished. He  does  not  offer  the  slightest  encouragement  to 
familiarity  on  the  part  of  his  keepers,  but  treats  them  with 
as  much  distance  as  the  most  perfect  strangers  ;  and  although 
he  will  sometimes  appear  playful  and  good  tempered,  yet 
they  know  him  too  well  to  trust  themselves  within  his 
grasp.* 

The  Grisly  Bear  has  long  been  known  to  the  Indian 
traders  as  differing  from  the  Black  Bear  in  the  inferiority  of 
its  fur,  its  greater  strength  and  carnivorous  habits.  Every 
traveller  through  the  region  it  frequents  has  also  men- 
tioned it,  thus  the  early  French  writers  call  it  Ours-blanc. 
But  Lewis  and  Clark  were  the  first  who  described  in  so  ac- 
curate a  manner  as  to  enable  naturalists  to  ascertain  that  it 
was  a  distinct  species ;  this  was  pointed  out  by  Dewitt  Clin- 
ton from  the  description  of  these  gentlemen  in  1815.  Mr. 
Ord,  also,  from  the  same  materials,  described  it  under  the 
name  of  horribilis  in  the  introduction  to  INIorse's  geography 

in ,  this  name  having  been  adopted  by  Mr.  Say,  who 

was,  as  we  have  stated,  the  first  naturalist  that  accurately 
described  it  from  the  actual  inspection,  we  have  followed 
him  in  assuming  Mr.  Ord's  designation  of  it.  Since  this  it 
has  received  the  various  specific  names  given  in  the  list  of 
synonomy  at  the  commencement  of  this  article.  The  Eng- 
lish name  of  Grisly  has  also  been  adopted  as  having  been 
bestowed  on  it  by  Mackenzie  as  early  as  1801,  and  as  less 
liable  to  objection  than  that  of  grizzly  which  is  founded  on 
a  colour  that  is  common  to  other  species.  Those  of  our 
readers  who  wish  for  further  information  respecting  this 
animal,  will  find  ample  details  in  Lewis  and  Clark's  Tra- 
vels, Long's  Expedition,  Godman's  Natural  History,  and 
Richardson's  Fauna  Americana  Boreali,  of  which,  as  well  as 
of  a  short  sketch  in  that  admirable  work,  the  Tower  Mena- 
gerie, we  have  freely  availed  ourselves  in  the  foregoing 
account. 


THE  GRIFFON  VULTURE. 

Vultur  Fulvus.     Briss. 

There  are  few  prejudices  more  deeply  rooted  in  our 
nature,  than  that  which  delights  in  investing  the  animal 
creation  with  the  feelings  and  the  passions  of  mankind. 
We  speak  of  the  generosity  of  the  Lion  and  the  meekness 
of  the  Lamb,  the  magnanimity  of  the  Eagle  and  the  simpli- 


Toiver  Menage: 


city  of  the  Dove,  as  if  the  peculiar  instincts  manifested  by 
each  of  these  animals  were  the  result  of  an  impulse  similar 
to  that  which  actuates  the  human  mind.  But  the  truth  is, 
that  the  qualities  thus  designated,  in  so  far  as  they  actually 
exist,  are  nothing  more  than  the  natural  and  necessary  con- 
sequences of  the  animals'  organization,  specially  fitted  in 
each  particular  case  for  the  performance  of  a  special  office, 
and  concurring  in  the  mass  to  the  maintenance  of  that  due 
equilibrium  in  the  s_ystem  of  the  universe  on  which  its  con- 
tinued existence  mainly  depends. 

The  Vultures  and  the  Eagles  furnish  a  striking  instance 
of  the  extent  to  which  this  prejudice  has  been  carried.  The 
latter,  eminently  qualified  by  their  organization  for  seizing 
and  carrying  off  a  living  prey,  serve  a  useful  purpose  of 
nature  by  setting  bounds  to  the  multiplication  of  the  smaller 
species  both  of  quadrupeds  and  birds,  which  might  other- 
wise become  too  numerous  for  the  earth  to  support:  while 
the  former,  disqualified  by  certain  modifications  in  their 
structure  for  the  performance  of  a  similar  task,  are  no  less 
usefully  employed  in  removing  the  putrefying  carrion 
which  but  for  them  would  infect  the  atmosphere  with  its 
unwholesome  exhalations.  Thus  both  are  of  equal  impor- 
tance in  the  economy  of  nature;  and  both  are  stimulated  to 
the  performance  of  the  particular  service  for  which  they 
were  created,  by  the  impulse  of  that  instinct  which  is  the 
immediate  result  of  their  organic  structure.  Instead,  how- 
ever, of  regarding  them  as  alike  the  ministers  of  nature  in 
the  maintenance  of  her  laws,  man  has  chosen  to  fix  upon  the 
one  a  character  for  bravery  and  generosity,  and  to  brand 
the  other  with  the  epithets  of  base,  cowardl}^,  and  obscene. 
The  Vultures,  which  are  perhaps  the  most  useful  and  cer- 
tainly the  most  inoffensive,  have  thus  been  consigned  to 
perpetual  infamy;  while  the  Eagles,  in  the  true  cant  of  that 
military  romance  which  has  ever  borne  so  great  a  sway 
over  the  passions  of  mankind,  have  been  exalted,  in  com- 
mon with  the  warrior  that  desolates  the  world,  into  objects 
of  admiration,  and  selected  as  the  types  and  emblems  of 
martial  glory. 

From  these  fanciful  associations  we  turn  to  the  realities  of 
nature,  and  proceed  to  indicate  the  characters  by  which  the 
family  of  Vultures  are  distinguished  from  all  other  Birds  of 
PreJ^  They  consist  in  the  entire  or  partial  denudation  of 
the  head  and  neck,  the  latter  of  which  is  much  elongated; 
the  lateral  position  of  the  nostrils  in  a  generally  broad  and 
powerful  bill,  curved  only  at  its  point,  and  clothed  at  its 
base  by  an  extended  cere;  the  nakedness  of  the  tarsi,  which 
are  covered  only  with  small  reticulated  scales;  and  the  strong 
thick  talons,  somewhat  blunted  at  the  points,  but  little 
curved,  and  scarcely,  if  at  all,  retractile.  Of  these  charac- 
ters the  most  obvious  is  the  absence  of  feathers  to  a  greater 
or  less  extent  on  the  head  and  neck,  a  mark  of  distinction 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


which,  like  all  the  rest,  is  closely  connected  with  the  habits 
of  the  birds.  Thus  it  has  been  pointed  out  that  in  other 
groups  a  falHng  off  or  thinning  of  the  feathers  is  the  fre- 
quent result  of  feeding  upon  flesh  especially  when  in  a  state 
of  decay.  The  bareness  of  these  parts  in  the  Vultures  ena- 
bles them  morever  to  burrow  in  the  putrid  carcasses  on  which 
they  prey  without  risk  of  soiling  their  plumage. 

Their  largely  extended  nostrils  and  the  great  internal 
developement  of  these  organs  would  seem  to  be  of  manifest 
use  in  guiding  the  Vultures  to  their  prey,  which  they  are 
generally  believed  to  scent  from  an  immense  distance.  It 
has,  however,  been  lately  maintained  by  a  most  acute  obser- 
ver of  the  habits  of  birds,  Mr.  Audubon,  that  thi.s  belief, 
which  has  been  entertained  from  the  earliest  antiquity,  is 
founded  in  error,  and  that  the  Vultures  are  directed  to  their 
prey  by  sight  alone,  the  lofty  pitch  at  which  they  fly  and 
the  surpassing  excellence  of  their  vision  enabling  them  to 
detect  it  at  an  almost  inconceivable  distance.  Several  of 
the  experiments  brought  forward  by  that  gentleman  in  sup- 
port of  his  hypothesis,  appear  at  first  sight  almost  decisive 
of  the  question;  but  we  cannot  consent  to  abandon  the  re- 
ceived opinion,  corroborated  as  it  is  to  the  fullest  extent  by 
the  anatomical  structure  of  the  organs  of  smell,  until  repeated 
experiments  shall  have  placed  the  fact  beyond  the  possi- 
bility of  doubt. 

It  is  almost  unnecessary  to  point  out  the  great  utility  of 
the  strong  deep  curved  bill  of  most  of  the  Vultures  in  tear- 
ing to  pieces  the  carcasses  on  which  they  feed,  and  consign- 
ing them  in  large  masses  to  their  maws.  The  nakedness  of 
their  legs  may  be  regarded  as  dependent  on  the  same  causes 
and  serving  the  same  purposes  as  that  of  their  heads  and 
necks.  But  the  character  which  has  the  strongest  influence 
on  their  economy  must  be  sought  for  in  the  structure  of  their 
claws.  While  the  Falcons  are  enabled  by  means  of  their 
strongly  curved,  sharp-pointed,  and  highly  retractile  talons, 
to  seize  their  victims  with  an  irresistible  grasp  and  to  con- 
vey them  through  the  air,  the  Vultures  are  restricted  by  the 
obtuseness  of  those  organs,  their  want  of  the  necessary  cur- 
vature, and  the  almost  total  absence  of  retractility,  to  the 
use  of  their  beaks  alone  in  the  seizure  of  their  prey,  which 
they  are  quite  incapable  of  transporting  with  them  in  their 
flight,  and  are  consequently  compelled  to  devour  upon  the 
spot.  It  is  to  this  simple  modification  in  structure  that  they 
are  chiefly  indebted  for  that  propensity  for  preying  upon 
carrion,  which  has  obtained  for  them  all  the  opprobrious 
epithets  that  stigmatize  them  throughout  the  world. 

The  Vulture  family,  which  formed  but  a  single  genus  in 
the  Linnffian  classification,  has  since  been  divided  into  seve- 
ral groups,  some  of  which  appear  to  us  to  be  still  capable, 
and  deserving  also,  of  further  subdivision.  We  have  already 
spoken  of  the  South  American  group,  of  which  the  Condor 


furnishes  the  most  conspicuous  example;  and  we  have  now 
to  turn  our  attention  to  another  section,  almost  equally  typi- 
cal in  the  family,  the  representatives  of  which  are  scattered 
over  the  three  divisions  of  the  Old  Continent.  It  is  in  this 
section  more  particularly  that  we  conceive  a  further  separa- 
tion of  species  both  practicable  and  desirable.  M.  Savigny 
has  already  effected  it  to  a  certain  extent  by  the  establish- 
ment of  two  well  marked  genera  for  the  reception  of  the  two 
European  species;  and  Mr.  Vigors  has  pointed  out  the  pro- 
priety of  separating  the  Angola  Vulture  of  Pennant  from  the 
rest  of  the  group.  To  these  three  strongly  marked  forms 
we  would  add  the  bird  which  furnishes  the  subject  of  the 
next  following  article  as  the  type  of  a  fourth,  with  which 
we  doubt  not  that  the  Pondicherry  Vulture  of  Latham  would 
form  a  natural  association.  Of  the  remaining  species  we 
will  not  venture  to  speak,  not  having  yet  enjoyed  the  oppor- 
tunity of  examining  them  in  nature. 

The  essential  characters  of  the  entire  section  consist,  in 
addition  to  all  the  characteristic  marks  of  the  family,  in  the 
almost  total  want  of  feathers  on  the  head  and  neck;  in  the 
position  of  the  eyes  on  a  level  with  the  general  surface  of 
the  head;  in  the  prominence  of  the  crop,  which  is  covered 
by  a  naked  and  highly  extensible  portion  of  skin;  in  the 
transverse  position  of  the  nostrils  at  the  base  of  a  strong  beak 
not  surmounted  by  a  fleshy  caruncle;  in  the  exposure  of 
their  auditory  openings,  which  have  no  elevated  margin;  in 
the  great  strength  of  their  legs;  the  comparative  weakness 
of  their  blunt  and  unretractile  claws;  and  the  shortness  of 
their  first  quill-feathcr,  which  is  of  equal  length  with  the 
sixth,  the  third  and  fourth  being  the  longest  of  the  series. 
To  these  may  be  added  the  usually  great  elongation  of  their 
necks;  the  fleshy  consistence  of  their  tongues;  the  prolonga- 
tion of  the  middle  toe,  which  is  united  to  the  outer  by  a 
membranous  expansion  at  the  base,  but  quite  distinct  from 
the  inner,  the  latter  being  the  shortest  of  the  three  and  about 
equal  in  length  to  the  posterior  or  thumb;  and  the  length  of 
the  wings,  which  extend  when  closed  beyond  the  extremity 
of  the  tail.  The  wings  are,  however,  rarely  brought  close 
to  the  body,  even  when  the  bird  is  completely  at  rest;  and 
this  circumstance,  together  with  the  somewhat  crouching 
posture  in  which  the  Vultures  are  compelled,  by  their  defi- 
ciency in  the  power  of  grasping,  to  sustain  themselves,  has 
been  frequently  adverted  to  as  affording  a  striking  contrast 
with  the  bold,  upright,  and  collected  bearing  of  the  Eagles. 

In  subdividing  the  European  Vultures,  M.  Savigny  has 
characterized  that  which  forms  the  subject  of  the  present 
article  by  its  naked  transversely  elongated  and  lunulate  nos- 
trils; its  tongue  fringed  with  sharp  points;  and  its  tail  com- 
posed of  fourteen  feathers.  Its  head  and  neck  are  covered 
with  a  short,  thick,  white  down,  which  is  wanting  only  at 
the  lower  part  in  front  corresponding  with  the  situation  of 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


12r 


the  crop,  where  the  naked  skin  has  a  bluish  tinge.  A  broad 
ruflf  of  pure  white  feathers  surrounds  the  lower  part  of  the 
neck;  and  the  rest  of  the  plumage,  in  the  adult  bird,  is  of  a 
grayish  brown,  with  the  exception  of  the  quill-feathers  of 
the  wings  and  tail,  which  are  of  a  dusky  black.  The  under 
parts  are  somewhat  lighter  than  the  upper;  the  bill  is  of  a 
livid  colour  with  a  tinge  of  blue;  the  iris  of  a  bright  orange; 
and  the  legs  and  feet  grayish  brown,  the  feathers  of  the  in- 
side of  their  upper  part  being  pure  white.  In  the  female 
the  colours  appear  to  coincide  exactly  with  those  of  the 
male;  but  the  young  birds  are  at  first  of  a  bright  fawn,  which 
is  variegated,  after  the  iirst  and  second  changes  of  plumage, 
with  patches  of  gray,  and  changes  to  the  perfectly  adult  hue 
only  after  the  close  of  the  third  year. 

This  noble  species  of  Vulture,  which  is  one  of  the  largest 
birds  of  prey  of  the  Old  Continent,  measuring  from  three 
feet  and  a  half  to  four  feet  in  length,  and  more  than  twice  as 
much  in  the  expanse  of  its  wings,  is  found  on  the  lofty 
mountain  chains  of  Europe,  Asia,  and  Africa.  It  is  not  un- 
common during  the  summer  in  the  Alps  and  Pyrenees,  but 
is  said  to  retreat  in  winter  to  the  north  of  Africa,  extending 
itself,  according  to  Le  Vaillant,  to  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope. 
M.  Risso,  however,  informs  us  that  it  is  stationary  on  the 
Alps  in  the  vicinity  of  Nice.  The  Rock  of  Gibraltar,  the 
Mountains  of  Silesia  and  the  Tyrol,  Greece  and  Turkey, 
are  also  spoken  of  as  its  European  habitats:  Egypt  is  indi- 
cated by  Savigny;  the  Mountains  of  Ghilan  in  the  north  of 
Persia  by  Hablizl;  and  other  localities  still  farther  east  are 
given  by  other  writers. 

The  nest  of  the  Griffon  Vulture  is  formed  in  the  clefts  of 
rocks.  It  lays  from  two  to  four  eggs,  which  are  of  a  grayish 
white,  with  numerous  spots  of  a  very  light  and  diluted  red. 
Like  all  the  other  birds  of  its  tribe  it  feeds  principally  upon 
dead  carcasses,  to  which  it  is  frequently  attracted  in  very 
considerable  numbers.  When  it  has  once  made  a  lodgment 
upon  its  prey,  it  rarely  quits  the  banquet  while  a  morsel  of 
flesh  remains,  so  that  it  is  not  uncommon  to  see  it  perched 
upon  a  putrefying  corpse  for  several  successive  days.  It 
never  attempts  to  carry  off  a  portion,  even  to  satisfy  its 
young,  but  feeds  them  by  disgorging  the  half-digested  mor- 
sel from  its  maw.  Sometimes,  but  very  rarely,  it  makes 
its  prey  of  living  victims;  and  even  then  of  such  only  as 
are  incapable  of  offering  the  smallest  resistance;  for  in  a 
contest  for  superiority  it  has  not  that  advantage  which  is 
possessed  by  the  Falcon  tribes,  of  lacerating  its  enemy  with 
its  talons,  and  must  therefore  rely  upon  the  force  of  its  beak 
alone.  It  is  onl}',  however,  when  no  other  mode  of  satiat- 
ing its  appetite  presents  itself,  that  it  has  recourse  to  the 
destruction  of  other  animals  for  its  subsistence. 

After  feeding  it  is  seen  fixed  for  hours  in  one  unvaried 
posture,  patiently  waiting  until  the  work  of  digestion  is 


completed  and  the  stimulus  of  hunger  is  renewed,  to  enable 
and  to  urge  it  to  mount  again  into  the  upper  regions  of  the 
air  and  fly  abroad  in  quest  of  its  necessary  food.  If  violently 
disturbed  after  a  full  meal,  it  is  incapable  of  flight  until  it 
has  disgorged  the  contents  of  its  stomach,  lightened  of 
which,  and  freed  from  their  debilitating  effects,  it  is  imme- 
diately in  a  condition  to  soar  to  such  a  pitch  as,  in  spite  of 
its  magnitude,  to  become  invisible  to  human  siaiht. 

In  captivity  it  appears  to  have  no  other  desire  than  that  of 
obtaining  its  regular  supply  of  food.  So  long  as  that  is 
afforded  it,  it  manifests  a  perfect  indifference  to  the  circum- 
stances in  which  it  is  placed.  An  individual  has  been  for 
three  years  an  inhabitant  of  the  Garden,  and  was  for  many 
years  previous  in  the  possession  of  Joshua  Brookes,  Esq.,  by 
whom  it  was  presented  to  the  Society.  —  Tower  Menagerie. 


THE  CHINCHILLA. 


Chinchilla  Lanisrera. 


The  peculiar  softness  and  beauty  of  the  fur  of  the  Chin- 
chilla have  been  so  long,  so  ornamentally,  and  so  comfort- 
ably known  to  our  fair  countrywomen,  that  it  would  be 
paying  their  taste  and  curiosity  a  sorry  compliment  to  ima- 
gine that  they  have  no  desire  to  become  acquainted  with  the 
animal  by  which  it  is  furnished.  We  are  happy  therefore  to 
to  have  it  in  our  power  to  gratify  them,  as  well  as  the  sci- 
entific zoologist,  by  a  figure  and  description  of  so  inter- 
esting a  creature,  the  former  the  only  one  that  has  yet  been 
given  to  the  world,  and  the  latter  the  first  that  has  appeared 
in  our  language. 

Notwithstanding  the  extensive  trade  carried  on  in  its 
skins,  the  Chinchilla  might  have  been  regarded  until  the 
last  year  almost  as  an  unknown  animal:  for  no  modern 
naturalist,  with  the  exception  of  the  Abbe  Molina,  a  native 
of  Chili,  who  has  written  expressly  on  the  Natural  History 
of  that  country,  had  seen  an  entire  specimen,  living  or  dead; 
and  the  description  given  in  his  work  added  little  of  truth 
and  much  of  error  to  the  information  that  was  to  be  derived 
from  an  inspection  of  the  skins  themselves  in  the  imperfect 
state  in  which  they  are  sent  into  the  market.  Still  his  ac- 
count contains  many  particulars  relative  to  the  habits  of  the 
animal,  which  are  not  to  be  met  with  elsewhere,  and  we 
shall  therefore  extract  it  entire;  first,  however,  referring  to 
such  scanty  notices  in  the  works  of  former  writers  as  appear 
to  have  been  founded  on  original  observation. 

The  earliest  account  of  the  Chinchilla  with  which  we 
have  met  is  contained  in  Father  Joseph  Acosta's  Natural 
and  Moral  History  of  the  East  and  West  Indies,  published 


128 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


at  Barcelona,  in  Spanish,  in  the  year  1591.  From  an  Eng- 
lish translation  of  this  work,printed  at  London,  in  1604,  we 
extract  the  following  sentence,  which  is  all  that  relates  to 
the  animal  in  question.  <'The  Chinchilles  is  an  other  kind 
of  small  beasts,  like  squirrels,  they  have  a  woonderfiill 
smoothe  and  soft  skinne,  which  they  weare  as  a  healthfuU 
thing  to  comfort  the  stomacke,  and  those  parts  that  have 
needeof  a  moderate  heate;"  [as  most  "beasts"  do;  but  the 
concluding  part  of  the  extract  shows  that  this  is  spoken  of 
the  human  natives,  and  not  of  the  poor  Chinchillas  them- 
selves;] "they  make  coverings  and  rugges  of  the  haire  of 
these  Chinchilles,  which  are  found  on  the  Sierre  of  Peru." 
We  find  these  animals  again  mentioned,  and  nearly  to  the 
same  purpose,  in  "The  Observations  of  Sir  Richard  Haw- 
kins, Knight,  in  his  Voyage  into  the  South  Sea,  An.  Dom. 
1593,"  published  at  London,  in  a  small  folio,  in  the  year 
1622,  and  reprinted,  three  years  afterwards,  in  the  fourth 
part  of  "Purchas  his  Pilgrims."  This  hardy  and  adven- 
turous seaman  appears,  notwithstanding  the  somewhat  con- 
temptuous manner  in  which  he  speaks  of  the  "princes  and 
nobles"  that  "laie  waite"  for  these  skins,  to  have  been 
much  of  the  same  opinion  with  regard  to  their  superior 
quality  and  comfort.  It  is  worthy  of  remark  that  he  treats 
them  not  as  wool,  in  which  light  Acosta  seems  to  have  re- 
garded them,  but  as  fur.  "Amongst  others,"  he  says, 
(showing,  by  the  by,  as  little  respect  for  the  niceties  of 
grammar  as  the  translator  above  quoted,)  "they  have  little 
beastes,  like  unto  a  squirrel!,  but  that  hee  is  grey,  his  skinne 
is  the  most  delicate  soft  and  curious  furre  that  I  have  seene, 
and  of  much  estimation,  (as  is  reason,)  in  the  Peru;  few  of 
them  come  into  Spaine,  because  difficult  to  be  come  by,  for 
that  the  princes  and  nobles  laie  waite  for  them,  they  call 
this  beast  Chinchilla,  and  of  them  they  have  great  abun- 
dance." 

In  the  foregoing  quotations  the  Chinchilla  is  only  said  to 
be  like  a  Squirrel:  later  writers  appear  to  have  confounded 
them.  Thus  when  Alonso  de  Ovalle,  another  Spaniard, 
whose  "Historical  Relation  of  the  Kingdom  of  Chili"  was 
published  at  Rome  in  1646,  says  that  "the  Squirrels 
[Ardas]  which  are  found  only  in  the  Valley  of  Guasco,  are 
ash-coloured,  and  their  skins  are  in  great  esteem  for  the 
fineness  and  softness  of  the  fur,"  he  evidently  means  the 
Chinchilla;  for  no  species  of  Squirrel,  whose  fur  is  of  any 
value,  is  found  in  that  country.  The  same  may  also  be  said 
of  an  anonymous  Italian  author,  (considered  by  some  biblio- 
graphers, but  we  believe  erroneously,  to  have  been  the 
Abbe  Vidaure,)  who  published  at  Bologna  in  1776,  a  Com- 
pendium of  the  Geographical,  Natural,  and  Civil  History 
of  the  Kingdom  of  Chili.  This  writer  speaks  of  the  Arda, 
which  is  the  Spanish  word  for  a  Squirrel,  as  a  species  of 
Rat  or  Campagnol,  of  the  size  of  a  Cat,  found  only  in  the 


province  of  Copiapo,  moderately  docile,  and  covered  with 
ash-coloured  wool,  as  close  and  delicate  as  the  finest  cotton. 
But  this  confusion  of  species  becomes  tolerable  if  com- 
pared with  another  into  which  the  same  author  has  fallen 
when  he  speaks  of  the  Chinche,  the  most  insupportably 
offensive  of  all  stinking  animals,  as  having  a  remarkably 
soft  fur,  which  is  made  into  coverlets  for  beds.  The 
responsibility,  however,  for  the  latter  error  must  rest  with 
Bufifon;  who,  after  quoting  Feuillee's  excellent  description 
of  that  abominable  beast,  adds:  "it  appears  to  me  that  the 
same  animal  is  indicated  by  Acosta  under  the  name  of 
Chinchilla,  which  is  not  very  different  from  that  of  Chin- 
che." How  this  great  naturalist  could  have  been  led  to 
confound  two  animals  so  essentially  distinct  in  every  parti- 
cular, of  one  of  which  he  had  a  specimen  in  good  preserva- 
tion, while  the  skins  of  the  other,  mutilated  it  is  true,  but 
still  distinctly  recognisable,  might  probably  have  been  seen 
in  the  warehouse  of  every  furrier,  we  are  at  a  loss  to  con- 
jecture. The  circumstance  itself  affords  a  striking  proof  of 
the  obscurity  in  which  the  history  of  the  Chinchilla  was 
then  involved,  when  the  mere  similarity  of  sound  in  the 
names  was  the  solitary  argument  advanced  in  favour  of  so 
unfortunate  a  conjecture.  The  error  was  corrected  by 
D'Azara,  who  is,  however,  himself  mistaken  in  regarding 
the  Chinche  of  Feuillee  and  Buffon  as  his  Yagouare,  and 
who  adds  nothing  to  what  was  already  known  with  respect 
to  the  true  Chinchilla. 

Molina's  Essay  on  the  Natural  History  of  Chili  was 
originally  published  in  Italian  at  Bologna  in  1782.  In  the 
preface  the  author  candidly  confesses  that  his  materials  are 
not  sufficiently  complete  for  a  general  Natural  History  of 
the  countiy.  They  appear  indeed  to  have  consisted  partly 
of  the  recollections  of  a  vigorous  mind,  and  partly  of  such 
imperfect  notes  as  could  only  be  made  use  of  in  the  way  of 
hints  to  recall  to  the  memory  some  of  those  minor  points 
which  might  otherwise  have  escaped  it.  It  is  obvious  that 
under  such  circumstances,  however  careful  the  writer  may 
have  been  to  avoid  mistakes,  it  is  impossible  to  place  in  his 
descriptions  that  implicit  confidence  to  which  his  acknow- 
ledged good  faith  would  otherwise  entitle  him.  In  this 
work  he  describes  the  Chinchilla  as  a  species  of  the  Linnasan 
genus  Mus,  under  the  name  of  Mus  laniger,  by  which  ap- 
pellation it  was  received  into  Gmelin's  Edition  of  the 
Systema  Naturae,  and  continued  to  be  known  among  natu- 
ralists, until  M.  Geoffroy-Saint-Hilaire  suggested  that  it 
ought  rather  to  be  regarded  as  a  species  of  the  genus  separated 
by  him  from  the  Rats  under  the  name  of  Hamster.  This 
opinion  was  immediately  adopted  by  zoologists,  and  seems 
to  have  been  taken  up  by  Molina  himself,  in  a  second 
edition  of  his  Essay,  published  in  ISIO,  which  contains 
some  trifling  additions  to  his  former  article  on  the  Chin- 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


129 


chilla.  "We  proceed  to  translate  from  the  latter  those  pas- 
sages which  relate  to  the  subject. 

"The  Chinchilla,"  he  says,  "is  another  species  of  field- 
rat,  in  great  estimation  for  the  extreme  fineness  of  its  wool, 
if  a  rich  fur  as  delicate  as  the  silken  webs  of  the  garden 
spiders  may  be  so  termed.  It  is  of  an  ash-grey,  and  suffi- 
ciently long  for  spinning.  The  little  animal  which  produces 
it  is  six  inches  long  from  the  nose  to  the  root  of  the  tail, 
with  small  pointed  ears,  a  short  muzzle,  teeth  like  the 
house-rat,  and  a  tail  of  moderate  length,  clothed  with  a  deli- 
cate fur.  It  lives  in  burrows  underground  in  the  open 
country  of  the  northern  provinces  of  Chili,  and  is  very 
fond  of  being  in  company  with  others  of  its  species.  It 
feeds  upon  the  roots  of  various  bulbous  plants  which  grow 
abundantly  in  those  parts;  and  produces  twice  a  year  five 
or  six  young  ones.  It  is  so  docile  and  mild  in  temper  that 
if  taken  into  the  hands  it  neither  bites  nor  tries  to  escape; 
but  seems  to  take  a  pleasure  in  being  caressed.  If  placed 
in  the  bosom  it  remains  there  as  still  and  quiet  as  if  it  were 
in  its  own  nest.  This  extraordinary  placidity  may  possibly 
be  rather  due  to  its  pusillanimity,  which  renders  it  extremely 
timid.  As  it  is  in  itself  peculiarly  cleanly,  there  can  be  no 
fear  of  its  soiling  the  clothes  of  those  who  handle  it,  or  of 
its  communicating  any  bad  smell  to  them,  for  it  is  entirely 
free  from  that  ill  odour  which  characterizes  the  other  species 
of  Rats.  For  this  reason  it  might  well  be  kept  in  the 
houses  with  no  annoyance  and  at  a  trifling  expense,  which 
would  be  abundantly  repaid  by  the  profits  on  its  wool. 
The  ancient  Peruvians,  who  were  far  more  industrious  than 
the  modern,  made  of  this  wool  coverlets  for  beds  and  valua- 
ble stuffs.  There  is  found,"  he  adds,  "in  the  same  north- 
ern provinces,  another  little  animal  with  fine  wool  called  the 
Hardilla,  which  is  variously  described  by  those  who  have 
seen  it;  but  as  I  have  never  observed  it  m3'Self,  I  cannot 
determine  to  what  genus  it  belongs."  There  can  be  little 
doubt,  we  should  imagine,  that  this  animal  is  identical  with 
the  Chinchilla,  the  latter,  as  we  have  already  seen,  being 
frequently  spoken  of  by  the  name  of  Arda,  the  same  with 
Harda,  of  which  Hardilla  is  only  the  diminutive. 

We  shall  conclude  our  quotations  of  former  notices  with 
the  following  extract  from  Sehmidtmeyer's  "  Travels  into 
Chile  over  the  Andes,"  London,  4to.,  1824;  which  fur- 
nishes some  particulars,  apparently  derived  from  the  travel- 
ler's own  observation,  that  had  not  been  touched  upon  by 
previous  writers.  "  The  Chinchilla,"  he  says,  "is  a  woolly 
field-mouse,  which  lives  under  ground,  and  chiefly  feeds  on 
wild  onions.  Its  fine  fur  is  well  known  in  Europe;  that 
which  comes  from  Upper  Peru  is  rougher  and  larger  than 
the  Chinchilla  of  Chile,  but  not  always  so  beautiful  in  its 
colour.  Great  numbers  of  these  animals  are  caught  in  the 
neighbourhood   of   Coquimbo  and  Copiapo,    generally   by 


boys  with  dogs,  and  sold  to  traders  who  bring  them  to 
Santiago  and  Valparayso,  from  whence  they  are  exported. 
The  Peruvian  skins  are  either  brought  to  Buenos  Ayres 
from  the  eastern  parts  of  the  Andes,  or  sent  to  Lima.  The 
extensive  use  of  this  fur  has  lately  occasioned  a  very  consi- 
derable destruction  of  the  animals." 

Such  is  the  history  of  our  knowledge  of  this  interesting 
animal  until  the  arrival  of  a  living  specimen  which  was 
brought  to  England  by  the  late  expedition  to  the  north-west 
coast  of  America,  under  the  command  of  Captain  Bcechey, 
and  by  him  presented  to  the  Zoological  Society.  An  entire 
.skin,  rendered  particularly  valuable  in  consequence  of  its 
having  the  skull  preserved  in  it,  was  at  the  same  time 
brought  home  by  Mr.  Collie,  the  surgeon  of  Captain 
Beechey's  vessel,  and  deposited  in  the  collection  of  the 
British  Museum.  We  have  thus  fortunately  placed  within 
our  reach  the  means  of  correcting  many  of  the  errors  into 
which  former  writers  have  fallen  with  regard  to  it,  and  of 
giving  a  more  complete  description  of  it  than  has  yet  been 
laid  before  the  world. 

To  begin  with  its  generic  characters.  The  slightest  in- 
spection of  its  teeth  was  sufficient  to  prove  that  it  could  no 
longer  be  associated  with  the  groups  in  which  it  had  been 
previously  placed;  and  a  closer  examination  served  only  to 
confirm  the  idea  that  it  was  equally  distinct  in  character 
from  every  other  known  genus  of  Rodentia.  In  proof  of 
the  former  part  of  this  assertion  we  borrow  from  the  Zoolo- 
gical Journal  Mr.  Yarrell's  description  of  these  organs, 
taken  from  the  specimen  before  mentioned,  with  one  indis- 
pensable alteration,  of  which  that  gentleman  has  himself 
since  seen  the  necessity.  He  there  describes  the  teeth  as 
consisting  of  two  incisors  in  each  jaw,  and  of  four  molars  on 
either  side;  the  three  anterior  of  the  upper  jaw  formed  of 
two  parallel  bony  portions  with  three  alternating  lines  of 
enamel,  and  the  fourth  having  an  additional  portion  of  bone 
and  enamel,  but  smaller  than  the  two  principal  ones.  The 
direction  of  the  parallel  laminse  of  these  teeth  is  not  at  right 
angles  with  the  line  of  the  maxillary  bone,  but  inclining 
obliquely  from  without  backwards;  and  the  molars  of  the 
lower  jaw  are  placed  still  more  obliquely  than  those  of  the 
upper. 

But  the  examination  on  which  this  statement  was  found- 
ed was  made  under  circumstances  of  great  disadvantage, 
inasmuch  as  it  is  almost  impossible  to  obtain  a  distinct  view 
of  the  teeth  of  any  animal  while  the  skull  remains  vvitliin 
the  skin,  from  which  it  was  of  course  not  allowable  in  the 
present  instance  to  remove  it  The  necessity  for  the  altera- 
tion to  which  we  have  before  alluded  has  been  rendered 
obvious  only  since  the  skin  was  transferred  to  the  British 
Museum,  by  the  extraction  from  the  lower  jaw  of  the  two 
anterior  molars  of  the  right  side,   which  are   now  shown 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


each  to  possess  a  smaller  third  lamina  of  bone,  with  its 
corresponding  enamel,  placed  in  front  of,  and  not  project- 
ing so  far  externally  as,  the  two  remaining  portions  of  the 
tooth.  This  third  lamina  is  separated  from  that  next  to  it 
by  a  deep  groove  on  the  inner  side,  but  on  the  outer  there 
is  no  indication  of  such  a  division  ;  the  inner  surface  of  each 
of  these  teeth  consequently  offers  two  such  grooves,  while 
the  outer  presents  no  more  than  one. 

In  the  observations  appended  to  his  account  of  the  teeth 
Mr.  Yarrell  appears  to  consider  the  Chinchilla  as  nearly 
allied  to  Mr.  Brooke's  new  genus  Lagostomus,  of  which  a 
figure  and  description  are  contained  in  the  last  published 
part  (the  first  of  the  sixteenth  volume)  of  the  Linnaean 
Transactions;  and  the  general  resemblance  of  form,  together 
with  the  characters  of  the  teeth  as  given  in  that  notice,  un- 
questionably warrant  at  least  a  close  approximation.  But 
we  apprehend  that  the  alteration  above  made  in  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  teeth  of  the  Chinchilla,  together  with  the  dis- 
crepancy in  the  number  of  the  toes,  which  in  our  animal 
are  four  on  the  hind  feet,  while  in  Lagostomus  they  are  but 
three,  will  be  considered  fully  sufficient  to  establish  a 
generic  difference  between  them.  The  close  affinity  sub- 
sisting between  these  animals  has  been  subsequently  re- 
cognised by  M.  Cuvier,  from  the  very  imperfect  materials 
in  his  possession,  consisting  only  of  mutilated  skins  of  the 
one  and  drawings  and  descriptions  of  the  other.  In  the 
new  edition,  just  published,  of  his  Regne  Animal  he  re- 
gards them  both  as  decidedly  forming  part  of  the  same 
genus;  but  does  not  venture,  until  he  shall  have  seen  their 
teeth,  to  determine  their  position  in  the  series,  which  he 
considers  so  uncertain  as  to  render  it  doubtful  whether 
they  approach  most  nearly  to  the  Guinea-pigs,  the  Lagomys 
or  the  Rats.  In  the  removal  of  these  doubts  we  are  happy 
to  assist  by  furnishing  the  proof  that,  although  generically 
distinct,  they  both  evidently  belong  to  the  same  natural 
tribe,  and  contribute,  along  with  Lagomys  and  Pedetes,  to 
establish  a  connexion  between  the  otherwise  widely  sepa- 
rated families  of  the  Hares  and  the  Jerboas. 

The  length  of  the  body  in  our  specimen  is  about  nine 
inches,  and  that  of  the  tail  nearly  five.  Its  proportions  are 
close-set,  and  its  limbs  comparatively  short,  the  posterior 
being  considerably  longer  than  the  anterior.  The  fur  is 
long,  thick,  close,  woolly,  somewhat  crisped  and  entangled 
together,  grayish  or  ash-coloured  above,  and  paler  beneath. 
The  form  of  the  head  resembles  that  of  the  Rabbit;  the 
eyes  are  full,  large,  and  black;  and  the  ears  broad,  naked, 
rounded  at  the  tips,  and  nearly  as  long  as  the  head.  The 
moustaches  are  plentiful  and  very  long,  the  longest  being 
twice  the  length  of  the  head,  some  of  them  black,  and  others 
white.  Four  short  toes,  with  a  distinct  rudiment  of  a 
thumb,   terminate  the  anterior  feet;  and  the  posterior  are 


furnished  with  the  same  number,  three  of  them  long,  the 
middle  more  produced  than  the  two  lateral  ones,  and  the 
fourth,  external  to  the  others,  very  short  and  placed  far  be- 
hind. On  all  these  toes  the  claws  are  short,  and  nearly 
hidden  by  tufts  of  bristly  hairs.  The  tail  is  about  half  the 
length  of  the  body,  of  equal  thickness  throughout,  and 
covered  with  long  bushy  hairs;  it  is  usually  kept  turned 
up  towards  the  back,  but  not  reverted  as  in  the  Squirrels. 

To  the  account  of  its  habits  given  by  Molina  we  can  only 
add  that  it  usually  sits  upon  its  haunches,  and  is  even  able 
to  raise  itself  up  and  stand  upon  its  hinder  feet.  It  feeds  in 
a  sitting  posture,  grasping  its  food  and  conveying  it  to  its 
mouth  by  means  of  its  fore  paws.  In  its  temper  it  is  gene- 
rally mild  and  tractable,  but  it  will  not  always  suffer  itself 
to  be  handled  without  resistance,  and  sometimes  bites  the 
hand  which  attempts  to  fondle  it  when  not  in  a  humour  to 
be  played  with. 

Although  a  native  of  the  alpine  valleys  of  Chili,  and 
consequently  subjected  in  its  own  country  to  the  effects  of  a 
low  temperature  of  the  atmosphere,  against  which  its  thick 
coat  affords  an  admirable  protection;  it  was  thought  neces- 
sary to  keep  it  during  the  winter  in  a  moderately  warm 
room,  and  a  piece  of  flannel  was  even  introduced  into  its 
sleeping  apartment  for  its  greater  comfort.  But  this  indul- 
gence was  most  pertinaciously  rejected,  and  as  often  as  the 
flannel  was  replaced,  so  often  was  it  dragged  by  the  little 
animal  into  the  outer  compartment  of  its  cage,  where  it 
amused  itself  with  pulling  it  about,  rolling  it  up  and  shaking 
it  with  its  feet  and  teeth.  In  other  respects  it  exhibits  but 
little  playfulness,  and  gives  few  signs  of  activity;  seldom 
disturbing  its  usual  quietude  by  any  sudden  or  extraordinary 
gambols,  but  occasionally  displaying  strong  symptoms  of 
alarm  when  startled  by  any  unusual  occurrence.  It  is,  in 
fact,  a  remarkably  tranquil  and  peaceable  animal  unless 
when  its  timidity  gets  the  better  of  its  gentleness. 

A  second  individual  of  this  interesting  species  has  lately 
been  added  to  the  collection  by  the  kindness  of  Lady  Knigh- 
ton, in  whose  possession  it  had  remained  for  twelve  months 
previously  to  her  presenting  it  to  the  Society.  This 
specimen  is  larger  in  size  and  rougher  in  its  fur  than  the 
one  above  described  ;  its  colour  is  also  less  uniformly  gray, 
deriving  a  somewhat  mottled  appearance  from  the  numerous 
small  blackish  spots  which  are  scattered  over  the  back  and 
sides.  It  is  possible  that  this  may  be  the  Peruvian  variety, 
mentioned  in  the  extract  from  Schmidtmeyer's  Travels,  as 
furnishing  a  less  delicate  and  valuable  fur  than  the  Chilian 
animal.  It  is  equally  good  tempered  and  mild  in  its  dispo- 
sition; and,  probably  in  consequence  of  having  been  domi- 
ciliated in  a  private  house  instead  of  having  been  exhibited 
in  a  public  collection,  is  much  more  tame  and  playful.  In 
its  late  abode  it  was  frequently  suffered  to  run  about  the 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


room,  when  it  would  show  oflf  its  agility  by  leaping  to  the 
height  of  the  table.  Its  food  consisted  principally  of  dry 
herbage,  such  as  hay  and  clover,  on  which  it  appears  to 
have  thriven  greatly.  That  of  the  Society's  original  speci- 
men has  hitherto  been  chiefly  grain  of  various  kinds,  and 
succulent  roots. 

When  the  new  comer  was  first  introduced  into  Bruton 
Street,  it  was  placed  in  the  same  cage  with  the  other  speci- 
men; but  the  latter  appeared  by  no  means  disposed  to  sub- 
mit to  the  presence  of  the  intruder.  A  ferocious  kind  of 
scuffling  fight  immediately  ensued  between  them,  and  the 
latter  would  unquestionably  have  fallen  a  victim,  had  it  not 
been  rescued  from  its  impending  fate.  Since  that  time  they 
have  inhabited  separate  cages,  placed  side  by  side;  and 
although  the  open  wires  would  admit  of  some  little  familiarity 
taking  place  between  them,  no  advances  have  as  yet  been 
made  on  either  side.  Such  an  isolated  fact  can,  of  course, 
have  little  weight  in  opposition  to  the  testimony  of  Molina 
that  the  Chinchilla  is  fond  of  company.  It  is  nevertheless  a 
remarkable  circumstance,  and  deserves  to  be  mentioned  in 
illustration  of  the  habits  of  these  animals. 


NATIONAL  MUSEUM  AT  PARIS. 

Some  Details  respecting  the  Garden  of  Plants  and  the 
National  Museum  at  Paris.  By  Mrs.  R.  Lee,  (late 
Mrs.  Bowdich.) 

Sir, — I  have  much  pleasure  in  obeying  your  request,  and 
sending  you  a  few  details  concerning  the  Jardin  du  Roi  in 
Paris,  of  which  I  have  been  an  inmate  during  the  last 
month. 

1  was  much  concerned  to  find  that  the  lions,  panthers, 
&c.  with  some  of  which  I  had  long  been  acquainted,  were 
all  dead;  and  it  is  said  that  the  classical-looking  building 
they  inhabited  was  unfavourable  to  their  nature.  Animals 
of  this  kind  require  not  only  warmth  and  shelter,  but 
society;  but  in  these  dens  a  constant  current  of  air  rushes 
through,  and  the  animals  are  totally  excluded  from  the 
sight  of  each  other.  Still,  however,  there  are  some  very 
fine  bears  of  different  species;  some  hysennas,  one  of  which 
is  very  gentle,  and  holds  his  head  close  to  the  bars  to  be 
caressed;  and  some  wolves.  Among  the  latter  is  one 
whose  hair  is  perfectly  black,  and  shines  like  floss  silk. 
He  was  brought  when  very  young  (I  could  almost  have 
said  a  puppy),  and  presented  to  Baron  Cuvier's  daughter-in- 
law,  who  finding  him  so  tame,  desired  he  might  have  a  dog 
for  a  companion,  and  be  fed  entirely  on  broth  and  cooked 


meat.  Her  orders  have  been  obeyed,  and  the  animal  retains 
all  his  gentleness  and  docility;  he  never  sees  her  but  he 
stretches  his  paws  through  the  bars  to  be  shaken,  and  when 
she  lets  him  loose  he  lies  down  before  her,  licks  her  feet, 
and  shows  every  mark  of  joy  and  affection.  In  a  small 
room,  not  open  to  public  view,  is  a  curious  collection  of 
squirrels,  rackoons,  martens,  ichneumons,  and  some  dogs, 
whose  monstrous  birth  gives  them  a  place  there,  in  order  to 
aid  the  researches  of  M.  Geoffrey  St.  Hilaire. 

But  the  great  attraction — the  queen  of  the  garden — is  the 
giraffe,  to  whom  I  paid  frequent  visits.  She  is  the  only 
survivor  of  the  three  which  left  Africa  much  about  the  same 
time,  and  inhabits  the  large  round  building  in  the  centre  of 
the  menagerie,  called  the  Rotonde.  Great  care  is  taken  to 
shelter  her  from  the  cold,  and  in  the  winter  she  has  a  kind 
of  hood  and  cape,  which  reach  the  length  of  her  neck,  and 
a  body  cloth,  all  made  of  woollen  materials.  She  is  only 
suffered  to  walk  in  her  little  park  when  the  sun  shines  upon 
it,  and  if  care  and  attention  can  compensate  for  the  loss  of 
liberty,  she  ought  to  be  the  happiest  of  her  kind.  She 
stands  about  124  feet  high,  and  her  skin,  with  its  light 
brown  spots,  shines  like  satin;  but  I  confess  I  was  disap- 
pointed with  regard  to  her  beauty.  She  looks  best  when 
lying  down,  or  standing  perfectly  upright,  in  which  posture 
she  is  very  dignified;  but  the  moment  she  moves  she  be- 
comes awkward,  in  consequence  of  the  disproportion  of  the 
hinder  parts  of  her  body,  and  the  immense  length  of  her 
neck,  which,  instead  of  being  arched,  forms  an  angle  with 
her  shoulders.  When  she  gallops,  her  hind  feet  advance 
beyond  those  in  front,  and  the  peculiarity  of  gait  caused  by 
moving  the  hind  and  fore  feet  on  the  same  side,  at  the  same 
time,  is  very  striking.  She  has  great  difficulty  in  reaching 
the  ground  with  her  mouth,  and  was  obliged  to  make  two 
efforts  to  separate  her  fore  legs  before  she  could  reach  a 
cistern  placed  on  the  pavement.  Her  head  is  of  remarka- 
ble beauty,  and  the  expression  of  her  full  black  eyes  is  mild 
and  affectionate;  her  tongue  is  long,  black  and  pointed. 
She  is  extremely  gentle,  yet  full  of  frolic  and  animation, 
and  when  walking  in  the  menagerie,  her  keeper  is  obliged  to 
hold  her  head  to  prevent  her  biting  off  the  young  branches 
of  the  trees.  Her  great  delight,  however,  is  to  eat  rose 
leaves,  and  she  devours  them  with  the  greatest  avidity. 
The  African  cows,  witli  humps  on  their  shoulders,  who 
supplied  her  with  milk  during  her  passage  to  Europe,  areas 
gentle  as  their  nursling,  and  when  feeding  her  they  come 
and  softly  push  your  elbows  to  have  their  share.  Turning 
from  the  giraffe  one  day,  and  proceeding  a  yard  or  two  in 
order  to  satisfy  them,  I  suddenly  felt  something  overshadow 
me,  and  this  was  no  less  than  the  girafle,  who,  without 
quitting  her  place,  bent  her  head  over  mine,  and  helped 
herself  to  the  carrots  in  my  hand.     Her  keeper,  named  Ati, 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


and  from  Darfiir,  is  a  tali  well-proportioned  black,  and  at 
his  own  request  a  little  gallery  has  been  erected  for  him  in 
tlie  stable  of  his  charge,  where  he  sleeps  and  keeps  all  his 
property.  When  in  attendance  he  dresses  in  the  turban, 
vest,  and  full  trowsers  of  his  country,  but  when  lie  walks 
into  Paris  he  assumes  the  European  costume,  for  in  his 
native  garb  all  the  children  in  the  streets  reco£;nise  him,  and 
calling  out,  '■'■  Jiti '.  Ati!  comment  va  la  giraffe?^''  hurt 
his  consequence.  He  is  to  be  found  every  Sunday  evening 
at  one  of  the  Guinguettes  in  the  neighbourhood,  dancing 
with  all  his  might,  and  during  the  week  he  devotes  his 
leisure  to  the  acquirement  of  reading  and  writing. 

The  two  elephants  are  mucli  grown,  and  with  the  Asiatic 
they  do  not  seem  to  make  much  progress;  but  the  African  is 
become  very  interesting;  she  performs  various  salutations 
and  manoeuvres,  obeys  the  voice  of  her  keeper,  kneels  down 
to  take  him  on  her  back,  and  seldom  requires  any  other 
chastisement  than  a  pull  of  one  of  her  ears,  which  are  very 
much  larger  than  those  of  her  Indian  brother. 

Two  very  beautiful  aviaries  have  been  completed  since 
my  last  visit  to  the  Jardin.  The  one  is  appropriated  to 
birds  of  prey,  and  contains  some  noble  specimens  of  owls, 
eagles,  and  vultures;  among  the  latter  is  the  great  Condor 
of  the  Andes  (Vi'iltur  Gryphus),  which  requires  double  the 
space  allotted  to  any  of  the  others.  The  second  aviary 
contains  many  rare  species  of  pheasants  and  other  birds, 
and  both  of  them  have  not  only  covered  places  for  shelter, 
and  stoves  for  heating  them,  but  a  large  space  covered  with 
iron  network,  in  which  the  thousands  who  weekly  crowd 
to  see  them  can  watch  their  movements  without  the  least 
difficulty.  Near  these  are  the  parks  appropriated  to  pea- 
cocks, domestic  fowls,  &c.  and  in  which  the  crown  and 
Numidian  cranes,  and  the  secretary  bird,  stalk  about  and 
dance  at  sunset,  as  if  under  their  native  skies.  The  various 
kinds  of  deer,  the  chamois,  and  other  goats,  are  in  high 
health;  the  beavers  are  thriving,  as  well  as  all  the  known 
species  of  lama.  I  was  astonished  at  the  fury  with  which 
these  mild-looking  animals  fight;  and  on  one  occasion  hav- 
ing caused  them  to  be  separated,  I  was  much  amused  at  the 
rage  with  which  they  pushed  their  noses  through  the  rail- 
ings, till  they  touched,  though  their  attempts  to  bite  were 
fruitless. 

Without  actual  study,  it  would  be  difficult  to  ascertain 
the  additions  made  of  late  years  to  the  collection  of  compa- 
rative anatomy.  Several  rooms  have  been  added  since  my 
first  acquaintance  with  it,  in  1819,  and  it  is  yearly  receiving 
new  treasures  from  travellers,  or  the  efflarts  of  Baron  Cu- 
vier,  who  may  be  said  to  have  created  this  part  of  the 
establishment.  The  upper  portion,  containing  the  prepa- 
rations in  spirits,  &c.  separated  bones,  skulls,  teeth,  and  the 
,skeletons  of  the  smaller  animals,  seems  to  be  crowded;  and 


the  skeletons  of  the  whales  below,  among  the  larger  objects, 
excited  my  astonishment,  that  the  whole  Parisian  world 
should  have  run  mad  after  la  bahine  dcs  Pays  Bas,  when 
those  of  the  Jardin  du  Roi  are  nearly  as  large,  and  much 
more  interesting,  from  the  whalebone  having  been  pre- 
served, and  from  the  correct  manner  in  which  the  parts 
have  been  put  together. 

The  collection  of  stuffed  animals,  at  the  first  coup  d'  ceil, 
more  completely  conveys  an  idea  of  its  immense  riches  than 
any  other  portion  of  the  establishment.  To  see  thousands 
of  animals  in  their  living  attitudes,  so  happily  prepared  as 
to  appear  in  actual  movement,  and  then  to  pause  and  find 
all  still  and  immoveable,  gives  an  idea  of  enchantment 
which  it  is  difficult  to  shake  off,  till  increasing  admiration 
at  every  step  supersedes  all  other  feelings,  and  till  we  finally 
turn  from  it  lost  in  wonder  at  the  magnificence  of  creation, 
and  adore  the  mighty  Hand  which  has  formed  these  endless 
varieties,  and  yet  bound  the  whole  together  in  one  common 
link.  The  division  allotted  to  the  stuffed  deer,  &c.  has  re- 
ceived several  curious  additions  of  the  antelope  kind;  and 
there  are  two  tufts  of  hair,  said  to  belong  to  the  tails  of  the 
grunting  cow  of  the  East,  which  is  such  an  object  of  cu- 
riosity to  naturalists,  and  which  tufts  are  all  that  has  yet 
been  brought  to  Europe  to  prove  its  existence.  The 
giraffes,  camels,  and  oxen  still  stand  together  in  this  room, 
and  the  enormous  basking  shark  has  been  hoisted  to  the 
ceiling.  But  we  feel  impatient  to  get  to  the  birds,  the  ar- 
rangement of  which,  from  their  size,  is  more  complete  than 
can  be  admitted  among  the  quadrupeds.  The  first  cases 
contain  the  diurnal  birds  of  prey;  where  the  gypactos  of 
the  Alps  seems  in  the  act  of  pouncing  on  its  victim,  the 
secretary  bird  appears  to  have  walked  in  from  the  menage- 
rie, and  the  falcon  ready  to  soar  from  the  wrist  of  the  hunts- 
man. The  owls  of  all  countries  succeed  these;  and  passing 
by  the  splendid  parrots,  parroquets,  toucans,  &c.  we  stop 
for  a  long  time  before  the  Passeres.  In  this  order  every 
idea  of  exquisite  form,  grace,  delicacy,  brilliancy,  and  har- 
mony of  colouring  seems  verified.  The  lyretails  (Masnura), 
the  parasol  birds  (Cephalopterus),  the  lovely  birds  of  para- 
dise, the  sugar  birds,  the  gems  of  humming-birds  blazing  in 
the  light,  seem  each  to  demand  a  whole  day's  admiration; 
and  then  come  tbe-^allinacesp,  with  the  red-breasted 
pigeon,  looking  as  if  an  arrow  had  just  pierced  her  heart; 
the  horned  and  argus  pheasants,  &c.  The  ostrich,  the  rose 
colored  flamingo,  the  sacred  and  the  scarlet  ibis;  the  kami- 
chi,  said  to  bleed  his  sick  companions  with  the  spur  upon 
his  wing,  all  take  their  place  among  the  Grallse:  and  next 
to  these  are  the  Palmipedes,  from  the  far-famed  albatross, 
the  awkward-looking  penguin,  the  frigate  bird,  the  stupid 
boobies,  to  the  common  duck. 

The  two  end  rooms  are  still  full  of  bats,  quadrupeds,  and 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


monkeys.  The  centre  of  the  rooms  is  filled  with  cases  of 
Mollusca  of  the  rarest  and  most  beautiful  species,  both  fossil 
and  recent;  the  animals  preserved  in  spirits  occupy  some  of 
the  lower  shelves;  the  rest  are  filled  with  corallines  and 
sponges;  the  cases  above  are  lined  with  insects. 

Descending  the  staircase,  we  pass  through  those  mighty 
ruins  of  former  ages,  the  fossils,  chiefly  collected  by  Baron 
Cuvier;  after  which  come  the  rocks  and  minerals.  The 
reptiles,  which  cover  the  sides  and  ceilings  of  the  next 
apartment,  have  lately  been  much  extended;  and  the  for- 
mer library  having  been  appropriated  to  ichthyology,  the 
books  have  been  moved  to  the  rooms  of  a  deceased  professor, 
and  their  place  is  now  wholly  occupied  by  fishes.  Below 
these  are  three  entirely  new  rooms,  formed  by  turning  the 
porter  of  the  gate  in  the  Rue  du  Jardin  du  Roi  out  of  his 
habitation,  and  converting  that  and  some  lecture  rooms  into 
a  gallery  fur  the  heavier  quadrupeds,  such  as  elephants,  hip- 
popotami, Slc.  uii  the  ground  floor. 

The  galleries  of  botany  are  scarcely  big  enough  to  con- 
tain the  piles  of  dried  plants  brought  home  by  the  naturalists 
of  the  expeditions  of  discovery;  and  the  collection  of  woods 
and  dried  seeds  bids  fair  very  soon  to  exceed  the  limits 
assigned  to  it.  The  School  of  Botany,  so  beautifully  ar- 
ranged according  to  the  natural  system,  is  three  times  as 
large  as  it  was  six  years  back.  The  wet  summer  has  much 
injured  the  parterres;  still,  however,  the  daturas  have  been 
placed  outside  the  green-houses;  the  salvias,  amounting  to 
large  shrubs,  were  still  in  blossom;  and  the  flower-garden, 
the  garden  of  naturalization,  and  the  medicinal  parterres, 
were  all  blooming.  In  short,  with  the  exception  of  living 
Carnivora,  every  department  of  this  wonderful  establish- 
ment has  made  the  most  astonishing  progress,  even  within 
the  last  few  years,  and  is  now  so  perfect  that  we  almost 
wish  the  treasures  of  nature  exhausted,  for  fear  the  least 
alteration  for  the  reception  of  additions  should  be  detri- 
mental to  its  beauty. 

I  cannot  suppose  it  possible  for  an  English  amateur  of 
natural  history  to  turn  from  this  little  world  of  science  and 
wonder  without  a  sigh  of  regret — without  dwelling  on  the 
causes,  whatever  they  may  be,  which  keep  his  own  country 
in  such  deep  arrears  in  this  respect.  That  England,  which 
perfects  not  only  her  own  undertakings,  but  the  under- 
takings of  other  nations,  with  a  hundred  fold  the  opportu- 
nity in  her  commercial  connections,  which  preclude  even 
the  necessity  of  sending  out  travellers  on  purpose — that 
England  should  be  thus  outdone  by  her  less  enterprising 
neighbour,  is  a  fact  at  which  I  cannot  help  grieving,  but 
which  I  do  not  presume  to  investigate.     I  am.  Sir,  &c. 

S.  Lee. 
3"  Burton  Street,  Nov.  19. 


L  I 


R  0  B  I  X. 


TURD  US  MIGR.iTORIUS. 

[Plate    XII.] 

Linn.  Syst.  i,  p.  292,  6.  —  Turdiis  Canadensis,  Briss. 
II,  p.  225,  9. — La  Litorne  de  Canada,  Burr,  iii,  p. 
307.— Grive  de  Canada,  PL  Enl.  556,  \.— Fieldfare 
of  Carolina,  Cat.  Car.  1,  29. — Red-breasted  Thrush, 
Arct.  Zool.  II,  No.  196.— Lath.  Syn.u,p.  26.— Bar- 
tram, />.  290. — J.  Doughty's  collection. 

This  well  known  bird,  being  familiar  to  almost  every 
body,  will  require  but  a  short  description.  It  measures 
nine  inches  and  a  half  in  length;  the  bill  is  strong,  an  inch 
long,  and  of  a  full  yellow,  though  sometimes  black,  or 
dusky  near  the  tip  of  the  upper  mandible;  the  head,  back 
Ol  the  neck,  iiiul  lull  la  blauk,  the  back  and  rump  an  ash 
colour;  the  wings  are  black  edged  with  light  ash;  the  inner 
tips  of  the  two  exterior  tail  feathers  are  white;  three  small 
spots  of  white  border  the  eye;  the  throat  and  upper  part  of 
the  breast  is  black,  the  former  streaked  with  white;  the 
whole  of  the  rest  of  the  breast,  down  as  far  as  the  thighs,  is 
of  a  dark  orange;  belly  and  vent  white,  slightly  waved 
with  dusky  ash;  legs  dark  brown;  claws  black  and  strong. 
The  colours  of  the  female  are  more  of  the  light  ash,  less 
deepened  with  black;  and  the  orange  on  the  breast  is  much 
paler  and  more  broadly  skirted  with  white.  The  name  of 
this  bird  bespeaks  him  a  bird  of  passage,  as  are  all  the  dif- 
ferent species  of  Thrushes  we  have;  but  the  one  we  are 
now  describing  being  more  unsettled,  and  continually 
roving  about  from  one  region  to  another,  during  fall  and 
winter,  seems  particularly  entitled  to  the  appellation. 
Scarce  a  winter  passes  but  innumerable  thousands  of  them 
are  seen  in  the  lower  parts  of  the  whole  Atlantic  States, 
from  New  Hampshire  to  Carolina,  particularly  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  our  towns;  and  from  the  circumstance  of 
their  leaving,  during  that  season,  the  country  to  the  north- 
west of  the  great  range  of  the  Alleghany,  from  Maryland 
northward,  it  would  appear  that  they  not  only  migrate 
from  north  to  south,  but  from  west  to  east,  to  avoid  the 
deep  snows  that  generally  prevail  on  these  high  regions  for 
at  least  four  months  in  the  year. 

The  Robin  builds  a  large  nest,  often  on  an  apple  tree, 
plasters  it  in  the  inside  with  mud,  and  lines  it  with  hay  or 
fine  grass.  The  female  lays  five  eggs  of  a  beautiful  sea 
green.  Their  principal  food  is  berries,  worms  and  catter- 
pillars.  Of  the  first  he  prefers  those  of  the  sour  gum 
[Nyssa  sylvatica).  So  fond  are  they  of  Gum  berries,  that 
wherever  there  is  one  of  these  trees  covered  with  fruit,  and 


134 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


flocks  of  Robins  in  the  neighbourhood,  the  sportsman  need 
only  take  his  stand  near  it,  load,  take  aim,  and  fire;  one 
flock  succeeding  another  with  little  interruption,  almost  the 
whole  day;  by  this  method  prodigious  slaughter  has  been 
made  among  them  with  little  fatigue.  When  berries  fail 
they  disperse  themselves  over  the  fields,  and  along  the 
fences,  in  search  of  worms  and  other  insects.  Sometimes 
they  will  disappear  for  a  week  or  two,  and  return  again  in 
greater  numbers  than  before;  at  which  time  the  cities  pour 
out  their  sportsmen  by  scores,  and  the  markets  are  plenti- 
fully supplied  with  them  at  a  cheap  rate.  In  January, 
1807,  two  young  men,  in  one  excursion  after  them,  shot 
thirty  dozen.  In  the  midst  of  such  devastation,  which  con- 
tinued many  weeks,  and  by  accounts  extended  from  Massa- 
chusetts to  Maryland,  some  humane  person  took  advantage 
of  a  circumstance  common  to  these  birds  in  winter,  to  stop 
the  general  slaughter.  The  fruit  called  poke-berries  {Phy- 
tolacca decandra,  Linn.)  is  a  favourite  repast  w'lih.  the 

Robin,   after  thcj-  ai-c  mdlo-n-od  \>y  the  fi  u:jt.        The  juiCO  uf 

the  berries  is  of  a  beautiful  crimson,  and  they  are  eaten  in 
such  quantities  by  these  birds,  that  their  whole  stomachs 
are  strongly  tinged  with  the  same  red  colour.  A  paragraph 
appeared  in  the  public  papers,  intimating,  that  from  the  great 
quantities  of  these  berries  which  the  Robins  had  fed  on, 
they  had  become  unwholesome,  and  even  dangerous  food; 
and  that  several  persons  had  suffered  by  eating  of  them. 
The  strange  appearance  of  the  bowels  of  the  birds  seemed 
to  corroborate  this  account.  The  demand  for,  and  use  of 
them  ceased  almost  instantly;  and  motives  of  self-preserva- 
tion produced  at  once  what  all  the  pleadings  of  humanity 
could  not  effect*  When  fat  they  are  in  considerable 
esteem  for  the  table,  and  probably  not  inferior  to  the  turdi 
of  the  ancients,  which  they  bestowed  so  much  pains  on  in 
feeding  and  fattening.  The  young  birds  are  frequently  and 
easily  raised,  bear  the  confinement  of  the  cage,  feed  on 
bread,  fruits,  &c.  sing  well,  readily  learn  to  imitate  parts  of 
tunes,  and  are  very  pleasant  and  cheerful  domestics.  In 
these  I  have  always  observed  that  the  orange  on  the  breast 
is  of  a  much  deeper  tint,  often  a  dark  mahogany  or  chesnut 
colour,  owing  no  doubt  to  their  food  and  confinement. 

The  Robin  is  one  of  our  earliest  songsters;  even  in 
March,  while  snow  yet  dapples  the  fields,  and  flocks  of 
them  are  dispersed  about,  some  few  will  mount  a  post  or 
stake  of  the  fence,  and  make  short  and  frequent  attempts  at 
their  song.  Early  in  April,  they  are  only  to  be  seen  in 
pairs,  and  deliver  their  notes  with  great  earnestness,  from 


'  Drayton,  in  his  "  View  of  South  Carolina,"  p.  86,  observes,  that 
"the  Robins  in  winter  devour  the  berries  of  the  Bead  tree  (Melia  Azedarach,) 
in  such  large  quantities,  that  after  eating  of  them  they  are  observed  to  fall  down, 
and  are  readily  taken.  This  is  ascribed  more  to  distension  from  abundant  eating 
than  from  any  deleterious  qualities  of  the  plant."  The  fact  however,  is,  that  they 
are  literally  choked,  many  of  the  berries  being  too  large  to  be  swallowed. 


the  top  of  some  tree  detached  from  the  woods.  This  song 
has  some  resemblance  to,  and  indeed  is  no  bad  imitation  of 
the  notes  of  the  Thrush  or  Thrasher  ( Turdus  rufus);  but 
if  deficient  in  point  of  execution,  he  possesses  more  simpli- 
city; and  makes  up  in  zeal  what  he  wants  in  talent;  so  that 
the  notes  of  the  Robin,  in  spring,  are  universally  known, 
and  as  universally  beloved.  They  are  as  it  were  the  pre- 
lude to  the  grand  general  concert,  that  is  about  to  burst  upon 
us  from  woods,  fields,  and  thickets,  whitened  with  blossoms, 
and  breathing  fragrance.  By  the  usual  association  of  ideas, 
we  therefore  listen  with  more  pleasure  to  this  cheerful  bird 
than  to  many  others  possessed  of  far  superior  powers,  and 
much  greater  variety.  Even  his  nest  is  held  more  sacred 
among  school  boys  than  that  of  some  others;  and  while  they 
will  exult  in  plundering  a  Jay's  or  a  Cat-bird's,  a  general 
sentiment  of  respect  prevails  on  the  discovery  of  a  Robin's. 
Whether  he  owes  not  some  little  of  this  veneration  to  the 
well  known  and  long  established  chnroctcr  of  his  namesake 
In  Diiiahi,  by  a  like  association  of  ideas,  I  will  not  pretend 
to  determine.  He  possesses  a  good  deal  of  his  suavity  of 
manners,  and  almost  always  seeks  shelter  for  his  young  in 
summer,  and  subsistence  for  himself  in  the  extremes  of 
winter,  near  the  habitations  of  man. 

The  Robin  inhabits  the  whole  of  North  America  from 
Hudson's  Bay  to  Nootka  Sound,  and  as  far  south  as  Georgia, 
though  they  rarely  breed  on  this  side  the  mountains  farther 
south  than  Virginia.  Mr.  Forster  says,  that  about  the  be- 
ginning of  May  they  make  their  appearance  in  pairs  at  the 
settlements  of  Hudson's  Bay,  at  Severn  river;  and  adds,  a 
circumstance  altogether  unworthy  of  belief,  viz.  that  at 
Moose  fort  they  build,  lay,  and  hatch  in  fourteen  days  !  but 
that  at  the  former  place,  four  degrees  more  north,  they  are 
said  to  take  twenty-six  days.*  They  are  also  common  in 
Newfoundland,  quitting  these  northern  parts  in  October. 
The  young  during  the  first  season  are  spotted  with  white 
on  the  breast,  and  at  that  time  have  a  good  deal  of  resem- 
blance to  the  Fieldfare  of  Europe. 

Mr.  Hearne  informs  us,  that  the  red-breasted  Thrushes, 
are  commonly  called  at  Hudson's  Bay  the  Red-birds;  by 
some  the  Black-birds,  on  account  of  their  note;  and  by 
others  the  American  Fieldfares.  That  they  make  their 
appearance  at  Churchill  river  about  the  middle  of  May, 
and  migrate  to  the  south  early  in  the  fall.  They  are  seldom 
seen  there  but  in  pairs;  and  are  never  killed  for  their  flesh 
except  by  the  Indian  boys.t 

Several  authors  have  asserted,  that  the  Red-breasted 
Thrush  cannot  brook  the  confinement  of  the  cage;  and 
never  sings  in  that  state.  But,  except  the  Mocking- 
bird ( Turdus polyglottos),  I  know  of  no  native  bird  which 


•  Phil.  Trans.  Ixii.  399. 

t  Journey  to  the  Northern  Ocean, 


8,  quarto.  Lond,  1795. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


is  so  frequently  domesticated,  agrees  better  with  confine- 
ment, or  sings  in  that  state  more  agreeably  than  the  Robin. 
They  generally  suffer  severely  in  moulting  time,  yet  often 
live  to  a  considerable  age.  A  lady  who  resides  near  Tarry- 
town,  on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  informed  me,  that  she 
raised,  and  kept  one  of  these  birds  for  seventeen  years; 
which  sung  as  well,  and  looked  as  sprightly,  at  that  age  as 
ever;  but  was  at  last  unfortunately  destroyed  by  a  cat. 
The  morning  is  their  favourite  time  for  song.  In  passing 
through  the  streets  of  our  large  cities,  on  Sunday,  in  the 
months  of  April  and  May,  a  little  after  day-break,  the 
general  silence  which  usually  prevails  without  at  that  hour, 
will  enable  you  to  distinguish  every  house  where  one  of 
these  songsters  resides,  as  he  makes  it  then  ring  with  his 
music. 

Not  only  the  plumage  of  the  Robin,  .is  of  many  other 
birds,  is  subject  to  slight  periodical  changes  of  colour,  but 
even  the  legs,  feet,  and  bill;  the  latter,  in  the  male,  being 
frequently  found  tipt  and  ridged  for  half  its  length  with 
black.  In  the  depth  of  winter  their  plumage  is  generally 
best;  at  which  time  the  full-grown  bird,  in  his  most  perfect 
dress,  appears  as  exhibited  in  the  plate. 


BLUE   BIRD. 


[Plate  XIL] 

Le  Rouge  gorge  bleu,  Buffon,  v.  212,  PI.  Enl.  390. — 
Blue.  Warbler,  Lath,  ii,  446. — Catesb.  i,  47. — Mota- 
cilla  sialis,  Linn.  Syst.  336. — Bartram,  j).  291. — 
Mofacilla  sialis,  Linn.  Syst.  i,p.  187,  Ed.  10. — Gmel. 
Syst.  I,  p.  989. — Sylvia  sialis,  Lath.  Ind.  Orn.  ii, 
522. — ViEiLLOT,  Otis,  de  VJim.  Sept.  pi.  101,  viale; 
102,  female;  103,  young. — La  Gorge  rouge  de  la  Ca- 
roline, Buff.  PI.  Enl.  396,  Jig.  1,  7nale;  Jig.  2,  fe- 
male.— J.  Doughtt's  collection. 

The  pleasing  manners  and  sociable  disposition  of  this 
little  bird  entitle  him  to  particular  notice.  As  one  of  the 
first  messengers  of  spring,  bringing  the  charming  tidings  to 
our  very  doors,  he  bears  his  own  recommendation  always 
along  with  him,  and  meets  with  a  hearty  welcome  from 
every  body. 

Though  generally  accounted  a  bird  of  passage,  yet  so 
early  as  the  middle  of  February,  if  the  weather  be  open,  he 
usually  makes  his  appearance  about  his  old  haunts,  the  barn, 
orchard  and  fence  posts.  Storms  and  deep  snows  some- 
times succeeding,  he  disappears  for  a  time;  but  about  the 


middle  of  March  is  again  seen,  accompanied  by  his  mate, 
visiting  the  box  in  the  garden,  or  the  hole  in  the  old  apple- 
tree,  the  cradle  of  some  generations  of  his  ancestors. 
"  When  he  first  begins  his  amours,"  says  a  curious  and 
correct  observer,  "it  is  pleasing  to  behold  his  courtship,  his 
solicitude  to  please  and  to  secure  the  favour  of  his  beloved 
female.  He  uses  the  tcnderest  expressions,  sits  close  by 
her,  caresses  and  sings  to  her  his  most  endearing  warblings. 
When  seated  together,  if  he  espies  an  insect  delicious  to  her 
taste,  he  takes  it  up,  flies  with  it  to  her,  spreads  his  wing 
over  her  and  puts  it  in  her  mouth."*  If  a  rival  makes  his 
appearance,  (for  they  are  ardent  in  their  loves),  he  quits  her 
in  a  moment,  attacks  and  pursues  the  intruder,  as  he  shifts 
from  place  to  place,  in  tones  that  bespeak  the  jealousy  of  his 
affection,  conducts  him  with  many  reproofs  beyond  the  ex- 
tremities of  his  territory,  and  returns  to  warble  out  his 
transports  of  triumph  beside  his  beloved  mate.  The  preli- 
minaries being  thus  settled,  and  the  spot  fixed  on,  they  begin 
to  clean  out  the  old  nest,  and  the  rubbish  of  the  former  year, 
and  to  prepare  for  the  reception  of  their  future  offspring. 
Soon  after  this  another  sociable  little  pilgrim  (Molacilla 
domestica.  House  Wren),  also  arrives  from  the  south,  and 
finding  such  a  snug  birth  pre-occupied,  shows  his  spite,  by 
watching  a  convenient  opportunity,  and  in  the  absence  of 
the  owner  popping  in  and  pulling  out  sticks;  but  takes 
special  care  to  make  off  as  fast  as  possible. 

The  female  lays  five,  and  sometimes  six  eggs,  of  a  pale 
blue  colour;  and  raises  two,  and  sometimes  three  broods  in 
a  season;  the  male  taking  the  youngest  under  his  particular 
care  while  the  female  is  again  sitting.  Their  principal  food 
are  insects,  particularly  large  beetles,  and  others  of  the  co- 
leopterous kinds  that  lurk  among  old  dead  and  decaying 
trees.  Spiders  are  also  a  favourite  repast  with  them.  In 
fall  they  occasionally  regale  themselves  on  the  berries  of  the 
sour  gum;  and  as  winter  approaches,  on  those  of  the  red 
cedar,  and  on  the  fruit  of  a  rough  hairy  vine  that  runs  up 
and  cleaves  fast  to  the  trunks  of  trees.  Ripe  persimmons 
is  another  of  their  favourite  dishes;  and  many  other  fruits 
and  seeds  which  I  have  found  in  their  stomachs  at  that  sea- 
son, which,  being  no  botanist,  I  am  unable  to  particularize. 
They  are  frequently  pestered  with  a  species  of  tape-worm, 
some  of  which  I  have  taken  from  their  intestines  of  an 
extraordinary  size,  and  in  some  cases  in  great  numbers. 
Most  other  birds  are  also  plagued  with  these  vermin;  but 
the  Blue-bird  seems  more  subject  to  them  than  any  I  know, 
except  the  Woodcock.  An  account  of  the  different  species 
of  vermin,  many  of  which  I  doubt  not  are  non-descripts, 
that  infest  the  plumage  and  intestines  of  our  birds,  would  of 
itself  form  an  interesting  publication;  but  as  this  belongs 

*  Letter  from  Mr.  William  Bartram  to  the  amhor. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


more  properly  to  the  entomologist,  I  shall  only,  in  the 
course  of  this  work,  take  notice  of  some  of  the  most  re- 
markable; and  occasionally  represent  them  in  the  same  plate 
with  those  birds  on  which  they  are  usually  found. 

The  usual  spring  and  summer  song  of  the  Blue-bird  is  a 
soft,  agreeable  and  oft-repeated  warble,  uttered  with  open 
quivering  wings,  and  is  extremely  pleasing.  In  his  motions 
and  general  character  he  has  great  resemblance  to  the  Robin 
Red-breastof  Britain ;  and  had  he  the  brown  olive  of  that  bird 
instead  of  his  own  blue,  could  scarcely  be  distinguished 
from  him.  Like  him  he  is  known  to  almost  every  child; 
and  shows  as  much  confidence  in  man  by  associating  with 
him  in  summer,  as  the  other  by  his  familiarity  in  winter. 
He  is  also  of  a  mild  and  peaceful  disposition,  seldom  fight- 
ing or  quarrelling  with  other  birds.  His  society  is  courted 
by  the  inhabitants  of  the  country,  and  few  farmers  neglect 
to  provide  for  him,  in  some  suitable  place,  a  sung  little  sum- 
mer house,  ready  fitted  and  rent  free.  For  this  he  more 
than  sufficiently  repays  them  by  the  cheerfulness  of  his 
song,  and  the  multitude  of  injurious  insects  which  he  daily 
destroys.  Towards  fall,  that  is  in  the  month  of  October, 
his  song  changes  to  a  single  plaintive  note,  as  he  passes  over 
the  yellow,  many  coloured  woods;  and  its  melancholy  air 
recals  to  our  minds  the  approaching  decay  of  the  face  of 
nature.  Even  after  the  trees  are  stript  of  their  leaves,  he 
still  lingers  over  his  native  fields,  as  if  loth  to  leave  them. 
About  the  middle  or  end  of  November  few  or  none  of  them 
are  seen;  but  with  every  return  of  mild  and  open  weather, 
we  hear  his  plaintive  note  amidst  the  fields,  or  in  the  air, 
seeming  to  deplore  the  devastations  of  winter.  Indeed  he 
appears  scarcely  ever  totally  to  forsake  us;  but  to  follow 
fair  weather  through  all  its  journeyings  till  the  return  of 
spring. 

The  Blue-bird,  in  summer  and  fall,  is  fond  of  frequenting 
open  pasture  fields;  and  there  perching  on  the  stalks  of  the 
great  mullein,  to  look  out  for  passing  insects.  A  whole 
family  of  them  are  often  seen,  thus  situated,  as  if  receiving 
lessons  of  dexterity  from  their  more  expert  parents,  who 
■  can  espy  a  beetle  crawling  among  the  grass,  at  a  considerable 
distance;  and  after  feeding  on  it,  instantly  resume  their 
former  position.  But  whoever  informed  Dr.  Latham  that 
"  this  bird  is  never  seen  on  trees,  though  it  makes  its  nest 
in  the  holes  of  them!"  might  as  well  have  said,  that  the 
Americans  are  never  seen  in  the  streets,  though  they  build 
their  houses  by  the  sides  of  them.  For  what  is  there  in  the 
construction  of  the  feet  and  claws  of  this  bird  to  prevent  it 
from  perching?  Or  what  sight  more  common  to  an  inhabit- 
ant of  this  country  than  the  Blue-bird  perched  on  the  top 
of  a  peach  or  apple-tree;  or  among  the  branches  of  those 
reverend  broadarmed  chesnut  trees,  that  stand  alone  in  the 
middle  of  our  fields,  bleached  by  the  rains  and  blasts  of 


The  Blue-bird  is  six  inches  and  three  quarters  in  length, 
the  wings  remarkably  full  and  broad;  the  whole  upper  parts 
are  of  a  rich  sky  blue,  with  purple  reflections;  the  bill  and 
legs  are  black;  inside  of  the  mouth  and  soles  of  the  feet 
yellow,  resembling  the  colour  of  a  ripe  persimmon;  the 
shafts  of  all  the  wing  and  tail  feathers  are  black;  throat, 
neck,  breast,  and  sides  partially  under  the  wings,  chesnut; 
wings  dusky  black  at  the  tips;  belly  and  vent  white;  some- 
times the  secondaries  are  exteriorly  light  brown,  but  the 
bird  has  in  that  case  not  arrived  at  his  full  colour.  The 
female  is  easily  distinguished  by  the  duller  cast  of  the  back, 
the  plumage  of  which  is  skirted  with  light  brown,  and  by 
the  red  on  the  breast  being  much  fainter,  and  not  descend- 
ing near  so  low  as  in  the  male;  the  secondaries  are  also  more 
dusky.  This  species  is  found  over  the  whole  United  States; 
in  the  B.ihama  islands  where  many  of  them  winter;  as  also 
in  Mexico,  Brazil,  and  Guiana. 

Mr.  Edwards  mentions  that  the  specimen  of  this  bird 
which  he  was  favoured  with,  was  sent  from  the  Bermudas; 
and  as  these  islands  abound  with  the  cedar,  it  is  highly  pro- 
bable that  many  of  those  birds  pass  from  our  continent 
thence,  at  the  commencement  of  winter,  to  enjoy  the  mild- 
ness of  that  climate  as  well  as  their  favourite  food. 

As  the  Blue-bird  is  so  regularly  seen  in  winter,  after  the 
continuance  of  a  few  days  of  mild  and  open  weather,  it  has 
given  rise  to  various  conjectures  as  to  the  place  of  his  re- 
treat. Some  supposing  it  to  be  in  close  sheltered  thickets, 
lying  to  the  sun;  others  the  neighbourhood  of  the  sea,  where 
the  air  is  supposed  to  be  more  temperate,  and  where  the 
matters  thrown  up  by  the  waves  furnish  him  with  a  constant 
and  plentiful  supply  of  food.  Others  trace  him  to  the  dark 
recesses  of  hollow  trees,  and  subterraneous  caverns,  where 
they  suppose  he  dozes  away  the  winter,  making,  like  Ro- 
binson Crusoe,  occasional  reconnoitering  excursions  from 
his  castle,  whenever  the  weather  happens  to  be  favourable. 
But  amidst  the  snows  and  severities  of  winter,  I  have  sought 
for  him  in  vain  in  the  most  sheltered  situations  of  the  mid- 
dle States;  and  not  only  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  sea, 
but  on  both  sides  of  the  mountains.  I  have  never,  indeed, 
explored  the  depths  of  caverns  in  search  of  him,  because  I 
would  as  soon  expect  to  meet  with  tulips  and  butterflies 
there,  as  Blue-birds,  but  among  hundreds  of  woodmen,  who 
have  cut  down  trees  of  all  sorts,  and  at  all  seasons,  I  have 
never  heard  one  instance  of  these  birds  being  found  so  im- 
mured in  winter;  while  in  the  whole  of  the  middle  and 
eastern  States,  the  same  general  observation  seems  to  pre- 
vail that  the  Blue-bird  always  makes  his  appearance  in 
winter  after  a  few  days  of  mild  and  open  weather.  On  the 
other  hand,  I  have  myself  found  them  numerous  in  the 
woods  of  North  and  South  Carolina,  in  the  depth  of  winter, 
and  I  have  also  been  assured  by  different  gentlemen  of  re- 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


137 


spectability,  who  have  resided  in  the  islands  of  Jamaica, 
Cuba,  and  the  Bahamas  and  Bermudas,  that  this  very  bird 
is  common  there  in  winter.  We  also  find,  from  the  works 
of  Hernandes  Piso  and  others,  that  it  is  well  known  in 
Mexico,  Guiana,  and  Brazil;  and  if  so,  the  place  of  its  win- 
ter retreat  is  easily  ascertained,  without  having  recourse  to 
all  the  trumpery  of  holes  and  caverns,  torpidity,  hyberna- 
tion, and  such  ridiculous  improbabilities. 

Nothing  is  more  common  in  Pennsylvania  than  to  see 
large  flocks  of  these  birds  in  spring  and  fall,  passing,  at  con- 
siderable heights  in  the  air;  from  the  south  in  the  former, 
and  from  the  north  in  the  latter  season.  I  have  seen,  in  the 
month  of  October,  about  an  hour  after  sun-rise,  ten  or  fif- 
teen of  them  descend  from  a  great  height  and  settle  on  the 
top  of  a  tall  detached  tree,  appearing,  from  their  silence 
and  sedateness,  to  be  strangers,  and  fatigued.  After  a  pause 
of  a  few  minutes  they  began  to  dress  and  arrange  their  plu- 
mage, and  continued  so  employed  for  ten  or  fifteen  minutes 
more;  then,  on  a  few  warning  notes  being  given,  perhaps 
by  the  leader  of  the  party,  the  whole  remounted  to  a  vast 


height,  steering  in  a  direct  line  for  the  south-west.  In  pass- 
ing along  the  chain  of  the  Bahamas  towards  the  West  In- 
dies, no  great  difficulty  can  occur  from  the  frequency  of 
these  islands;  nor  even  to  the  Bermudas,  which  are  said  to 
be  600  miles  from  the  nearest  part  of  the  continent.  This 
may  seem  an  extraordinary  flight  for  so  small  a  bird;  but  it 
is  nevertheless  a  fact  that  it  is  performed.  If  we  suppose 
the  Blue-bird  in  this  case  to  fly  only  at  the  rate  of  a  mile 
per  minute,  which  is  less  than  I  have  actually  ascertained 
him  to  do  over  land,  ten  or  eleven  hours  would  be  sufticient 
to  accomplish  the  journey;  besides  the  chances  he  would 
have  of  resting  places  by  the  way,  from  the  number  of  ves- 
sels that  generally  navigate  those  seas.  In  like  manner  two 
days  at  most,  allowing  for  numerous  stages  for  rest,  would 
conduct  him  from  the  remotest  regions  of  Mexico  to  any 
part  of  the  Atlantic  States.  When  the  natural  history  of  that 
part  of  the  continent  and  its  adjacent  isles,  are  better  known, 
and  the  periods  at  which  its  birds  of  passage  arrive  and  de- 
part, are  truly  ascertained,  I  have  no  doubt  but  these  sup- 
positions will  be  fully  corroborated. 


ENCOUNTER  WITH  A  PANTHER. 

There  is  no  subject  on  which  the  mind  dwells  with  so 
much  interest  and  intensity  of  thought,  as  the  retrospect 
of  past  life — to  call  to  remembrance  the  scenes  of  early 
youth — that  period  of  existence  which  was  spent  in  scenes 
of  gaiety  and  pleasure — exploits,  replete  with  danger — ex- 
cursions, pregnant  with  difficulties  and  hairbreadth  escapes 


— these  fill  the  mind  with  a  train  of  thought  inexpressibly 
interesting;  and  they  become  tenfold  more  delightful  by 
the  lapse  of  riper  years.  To  the  mind  of  him  whose  youth- 
ful days  have  been  passed  in  the  lonely  wilds  of  a  newly 
settled  country,  where  every  day's  experience  gave  rise  to 
some  new  event ;  and  ingenuity  and  prowess  were  often 
necessarily  placed  in  competition  with  the  ferocity  of  savage 
animals,  it  is  a  source  of  contemplation,  embodying  in  itself 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  fflSTORY 


feasts  of  pleasure,  known  only  to  the  hunter,  after  these 
seasons  of  adventure  are  past,  and  when  age,  with  his  hoary 
locks,  unfits  him  for  toilsome  enterprise,  in  which  it  was 
once  his  delight  to  engage,  and  his  glory  to  excel.  Old 
age  has  not  yet  laid  his  paralyzing  hand  on  me;  still  my 
occupations  are  changed:  instead  of  the  noble  forests  through 
which  I  have  roamed  in  quest  of  the  Bear,  the  Wolf,  and 
the  Panther,  it  is  my  lot  to  trudge  the  streets  of  this  goodly 
city,  and  take  my  share  of  the  trials  and  perplexities  atten- 
dant on  a  city  life;  but  the  reminiscences  of  those  early 
days  come  over  my  mind,  with  an  influence  at  once  salutary 
and  soothing,  when  it  is  disturbed  by  any  of  those  nameless 
perplexities  to  which  human  nature  is  heir.  Under  the 
influence  of  such  feelings  I  determined  (after  an  absence  of 
several  years)  to  revisit  my  native  town,  in  the  state  of 
New  York,  and  about  150  miles  north  of  Philadelphia — 
that  I  engaged  an  old  companion  to  accompany  me  once  more, 
on  a  hunting  excursion,  the  details  of  which  I  furnish  with 
pleasure,  if  you  think  them  sufficiently  interesting  for  your 
"Cabinet."  On  arriving  at  the  above  mentioned  place,  two 
faithful  and  old  companions  claimed  my  particular  regard, 
viz:  a  Rifle,  which  had  served  me  in  the  hour  of  need,  and 
had  slain  its  thousands  before  I  wielded  it,  and  Lion,  the 
faithful  Dog  that  had  never  shrunk  from  danger,  nor  turned 
tail  on  the  most  savage  monsters  of  the  forest.  These  excited 
an  impatience  which  could  scarcely  be  restrained,  and  I 
eagerly  embraced  the  first  opportunity  to  roam  the  mountain 
wilds.  My  friend,  who  was  ever  willing,  readily  consented 
to  an  excursion  the  next  day;  but  being  somewhat  indis- 
posed, he  did  not  enter  into  it  with  the  same  spirit  which 
marked  his  enterprises  in  former  years — he  had  been  re- 
peatedly informed  by  his  men,  who  were  cutting  timber 
on  a  stream  called  "  Shad  Pound  Brook,"  that  a  Panther 
had  crossed  the  "Log  road"  several  times  during  the  winter, 
and  as  the  snow  had  fallen  to  a  considerable  depth,  the  sup- 
position was,  that  it  could  not  be  far  from  that  place.  From 
the  circumstance  of  their  having  short  legs,  they  are  much 
averse  to  travelling  far;  especially  as  at  this  time  the  depth 
of  snow  was  eighteen  inches,  and  it  must  have  been  hunger 
alone  which  urged  this  animal  to  travel  in  search  of  food. 
As  this  county  had  been  hunted  over  so  frequently  by  my 
friend  and  myself,  we  could  judge  pretty  accurately  of  the 
neighbourhood  in  which  the  Panther  was  to  be  found,  and 
as  the  mountain  next  beyond  that,  on  which  the  men  were 
cutting  timber,  was  the  place  in  which  we  would  most  likely 
find  it,  we  resolved  to  take  the  sleigh  as  far  as  these  men, 
and  then  seek  the  object  of  our  pursuit  on  foot — we  accord- 
ingly departed ;  but  on  arriving  at  the  spot  where  we  intended 
leaving  our  sleigh,  found  our  prospects  even  more  gloomy 
than  we  had  anticipated.  We  sank  to  our  knees  in  the  snow  at 
every  step;  but,  as  I  was  anxious  to  kill  something,  we  perse- 
vered with  steady  pace  through  many  difficulties.  We  had  not 


proceeded  far,  however,  before  fresh  tracks  of  deer  appeared ; 
they  inclined  down  the  mountain  and  across  the  hollow  to 
the  next  mountain.  It  was  agreed  that  I  should  follow 
until  I  could  get  a  shot,  which,  the  freshness  of  the  tracks 
warranted  a  belief,  would  soon  occur ;  and  that  my  compa- 
nion, who  was  somewhat  indisposed,  would  continue  his 
path  alongside  the  mountain,  and  under  the  branches  of  the 
hemlock  trees,  where,  the  snow  being  of  less  depth,  made 
it  more  agreeable  to  travel.  I  followed  the  tracks  for  some 
time,  and  expected  at  every  step  to  see  them  spring  up  before 
me.  Presently  I  heard  my  companion  give  two  whoops — this 
was  a  signal  preconcerted  always,  one  call  to  ascertain  the 
direction  of  each  other — two  in  succession  was  the  signal  to 
approach  the  caller.  But  such  was  the  intensity  of  my  pur- 
suit after  the  deer,  with  the  expectation  of  seeing  them 
every  moment,  that  I  should  certainly  have  disregarded  the 
signal,  had  I  not  been  apprehensive  that  my  friend  was 
overcome  with  fatigue:  this  determined  me  to  obey  it, 
when,  to  my  agreeable  surprise,  I  found  on  reaching 
him,  that  he  had  discovered  the  Panther's  track,  and  nearly 
fresh.  We  set  oflf  in  eager  pursuit,  reckless  of  the  snow, 
and,  after  proceeding  about  one  mile,  saw  where  it  had  gone 
under  a  ledge  of  rocks  and  again  came  out  and  made  several 
jumps.  Here  we  thought  we  had  aroused  it ;  conse- 
quently the  dog  was  let  ofi"  in  chase;  he  did  not  run  more 
than  three  hundred  yards,  before  he  came  upon  two  deer, 
after  which  he  led  off,  and  could  only  be  recalled  by  dis- 
charging our  rifles.  We  were  here  disappointed,  the  cause 
of  the  Panther's  actions  appeared  to  have  been  a  disposition 
for  play,  springing  and  jumping  about  voluntarily.  Af- 
ter Lion's  return,  and  reloading  our  rifles,  we  proceeded.  To 
all  appearance,  the  animal  must  have  made  this  track  but  the 
night  previous,  as  most  of  their  wanderings  are  during  this 
season.  About  one  mile  further  we  came  to  another  ledge 
of  rocks,  two  hundred  yards  in  length,  and  twelve  or  fifteen 
feet  high,  perpendicular,  and  like  a  wall — here  the  Panther 
had  exercised  its  muscular  powers,  by  springing  to  the  top 
of  these  rocks  and  then  to  the  ground  again — thus,  when 
undisturbed,  this  animal  is  dissimilar  to  others,  always 
marking  his  travels  by  this  kind  of  deviation,  which  seems 
to  proceed  from  mere  sportiveness,  and  is  confined  to 
this  class;  as  they  are  not  constructed  for  running  or 
travelling  a  great  distance,  but  possess  rather  great  muscular 
strength,  which  they  often  call  into  exercise  by  this  kind  of 
diversion:  the  height  and  distance  which  a  Panther  can 
jump,  is  really  astonishing,  when  their  clumsy  appearance 
is  taken  into  consideration.  This  ledge  of  rocks  skirted  the 
side  of  the  mountain  to  the  distance  of  two  hundred  yards 
or  more;  at  its  termination  was  a  cave,  in  which  we  sup- 
posed our  antagonist  had  sought  a  place  of  repose — the 
mouth  of  this  cave  was  an  opening  four  feet  high  and  two 
broad,  the  entrance  descended  gradually  to  the  distance  of 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


six  feet,  then  horizontally  about  thirty,  to  the  extreme  end ; 
the  ground  outside  was  perhaps  two  feet  higher  than  the 
floor  of  the  den,  in  consequence  of  dirt,  leaves,  and  other 
rubbish  accumulating  and  dropping  from  the  mountain  side, 
and  the  water,  by  dripping  from  the  rocks,  had  descended 
along  the  inclined  part  of  the  den,  and  so  frozen,  as  to  form 
a  sheet  of  ice  to  a  considerable  depth  into  it.  As  we  could 
discover  no  other  opening  to  the  cave  but  the  one  already 
mentioned,  nor  any  track  which  could  prove  its  departure 
from  that  spot,  we  felt  confident  that  the  Panther  had  taken 
refuge  there.  We  had  now  a  most  formidable  antagonist 
to  contend  with,  and  as  several  years  had  elapsed  since  I 
killed  a  wild  animal,  it  was  a  moment  of  thrilling  interest — 
to  destroy  an  animal  like  (his  was  the  sum  total  of  my 
wishes,  and  the  highest  point  to  which  a  hunter  desires  to 
attain.  I  therefore  requested  of  my  companion  permission 
to  descend  (as  we  were  at  this  time  on  the  ledge  of  rocks) 
and  shoot  the  Panther,  which  I  supposed  was  secreted  be- 
neath our  feet,  and  would  make  his  appearance  as  soon  as  I 
approached  the  spot  of  his  concealment.  I  accordingly  de- 
scended, and  it  was  not  till  then  that  we  were  certain  he 
had  taken  refuge  in  the  den.  I  approached  within  twenty 
feet  of  the  cave,  or  to  a  distance  which  I  considered  per- 
fectly secure  from  the  creature's  jump,  in  case  it  made  an 
attempt  to  come  out,  or  that  would  give  me  the  advantage 
of  shooting  before  it  could  make  a  spring  at  me.  Having 
encountered  these  animals  frequently,  I  was  cautious  of  ap- 
proaching too  near;  but  my  companion,  who  was  still  on  the 
ledge  of  rocks,  kept  urging  me  to  go  up  to  the  mouth 
of  the  den  and  endeavour  to  see  the  animal  and  shoot  it; 
but  I  replied,  "do  not  push  me  into  difficulties  too  fast." 
He  answered,  that  if  I  did  not  go  to  the  mouth  of  the  den, 
he  would,  and  accordingly  came  down  with  that  intention. 
Knowing  so  well  the  nature  of  our  adversary,  we  used  every 
precautionary  measure,  previous  to  an  attack,  and  com- 
menced clearing  the  snow  from  the  mouth  of  the  cave, 
to  a  distance  of  twenty  feet,  so  that,  in  case  the  Panther 
attacked  us,  we  could  retreat  that  distance  without  encum- 
brance to  our  feet.  When  this  was  done,  we  commenced 
pelting  the  mouth  of  the  cave  with  snow  balls;  but  it  would 
not  excite  our  enemy  to  motion.  We  drew  the  conclusion, 
from  this  circumstance,  that  the  Panther,  either  from  cowar- 
dice or  security,  would  not  risk  an  attempt  to  leave  the 
cave.  We  approached  the  opening,  and  then  the  animal 
retired  to  the  depth  of  its  retreat.  Our  appearance  now  ex- 
cited its  displeasure,  which  was  manifested  by  tremendous 
growls,  that  made  the  rocks  ring  again:  it  still  seemed 
unwilling  to  depart  from  a  place,  which  offered  so  much 
security.  We  now  resolved  to  try  other  measures  to  dislodge 
our  enemy,  and  commenced  by  threshing  at  the  aperture 
with  a  long  stout  pole;  but  this  failed  alike,  with  the  other 
means  we  had  employed  to  rouse  it  to  action.   Emboldened 


at  last  by  its  cowardice,  we  attempted  to  punch  it;  but 
this  had  no  other  effect  than  to  produce  the  most  appal- 
ling growls,  and  spitting  like  a  cat.  Lion,  himself,  seemed 
sensible  of  the  creature's  want  of  spirit;  and  was  with  diffi- 
culty restrained  from  dashing  in  to  the  combat,  in  which 
event,  his  life  would  have  paid  the  forfeit,  without  ren- 
dering us  any  assistance.  Being  convinced  that  nothing 
would  induce  the  Panther  to  leave  its  strong  hold,  I 
formed  the  resolution  of  shooting  it,  if  possible,  in  its 
very  den.  I  requested  my  friend  to  stand  in  readiness 
to  shoot,  or  let  the  dog  in,  in  case  I  failed,  or  the  Pan- 
ther should  spring  at  me.  This  arrangement  made,  I 
succeeded  in  getting  a  small  distance  into  the  cave,  and 
after  remaining  some  time,  could  see  perfectly  well.  I 
found,  however,  that  there  was  no  chance  to  shoot  it,  even 
when  so  near;  as,  instead  of  getting  to  the  extreme  end  of 
the  den,  the  Panther  had  concealed  itself  behind  a  rock, 
which  jutted  so  much  above  the  bottom  of  the  cave,  as  to 
shield  it  completely  from  my  view.  The  animal's  cowar- 
dice increased  my  courage  so  much,  that  I  determined  on 
using  every  means  to  destroy  it.  I  requested  my  compa- 
nion to  procure  me  a  long  pole  to  punch  it  with.  My 
plan  was  to  lay  my  rifle  parallel  with  the  pole,  and  the  mo- 
ment the  Panther  seized  the  end  with  his  mouth,  to  fire; 
and  thus  hoped  to  shoot  him  directly  in  the  head;  and  should 
I  be  unsuccessful,  and  the  Panther  make  a  rush,  I  was  to 
fall  flat  on  my  front,  provided  I  could  not  get  out  in  time, 
and  let  it  run  over  me  to  escape.  My  friend,  who  was  a 
bold  man,  and  a  first  rate  shot,  was  to  kill  it  as  soon  as  it 
appeared;  or,  if  the  Panther  stopped  to  give  me  battle,  was 
to  let  the  dog  enter  and  seize  it ;  and  thus  give  me  a 
chance  to  retire.  I  knew  this  was  the  only  mode;  for  were 
I  to  present  any  obstacle  to  the  animal's  progress,  as  that  it 
could  not  conveniently  pass,  my  life  would  pay  the  forfeit 
in  so  doing:  but  I  had  good  reason  to  doubt  its  courage, 
and,  therefore,  felt  no  great  alarm  for  my  safety. 

My  friend  having  procured  the  pole,  I  put  my  plan  into 
operation:  the  first  push  I  made  roused  the  anger  and  fero- 
city of  my  enemy,  and  convinced  me  that  nothing  but  cow- 
ardice on  its  part  saved  me  from  utter  destruction.  The 
cave  echoed  and  trembled  with  his  growling.  The  Panther 
seized  the  end  of  the  pole  with  so  much  fury  as  to  bend  it 
over  the  rock,  and  still  kept  its  head  from  my  view.  So 
long  as  I  tried  to  pull  the  stick,  the  animal  kept  a  firm  hold: 
but  the  moment  I  ceased  pulling,  it  also  relaxed  its  hold. 
The  actions  of  this  creature  were  so  quick,  that  it  was  im- 
possible to  direct  aim  at  it  with  any  degree  of  certainty; 
and  on  raising  its  head  to  seize  the  pole,  the  flashes  from  its 
eyes  were  distinct,  but  so  quick  were  they  out  of  sight,  that 
it  resembled,  more  than  any  thing  else,  sparks  struck  from 
a  flint.  So  strong  was  this  animal,  that  with  both  my  hands, 
and  utmost  strength,  I  could  not  pull  its  head   one  inch. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


After  labouring  for  some  time  in  this  way,  I  requested  my 
companion  to  procure  me  a  pole  much  stouter  than  the  first, 
so  that,  when  the  animal  seized  it,  he  could  not  press  it  be- 
hind the  rock;  and  must  of  necessity  keep  its  head  in  view. 
The  pole,  though  not  answering  my  expectations  exactly, 
enabled  me,  nevertheless,  to  discharge  my  piece  at  the 
monster.  I  was  exceedingly  dcsirious  of  making  a  fatal 
shot,  and  as  an  hour  had  elapsed  since  I  entered  the  den,  I 
determined,  at  all  hazards,  to  fire.  Possibly  I  might  hit — 
eight  chances  out  of  ten  were  in  my  favour  of  doing  so — or 
that  in  case  I  missed,  I  could,  with  one  spring,  clear  the 
mouth  of  the  cave.  Under  these  impressions,  I  thrust  the 
pole  once  more  at  the  Panther,  and  the  moment  it  was 
seized,  levelled  my  rifle  and  fired;  at  the  next  instant 
I  made  a  spring  at  the  opening;  my  feet  slipped  on 
the  ice,  and  I  slid  backwards  into  the  cave  again.  My 
friend,  who  was  on  the  alert,  seeing  me  fall,  and  apprehen- 
sive lest  the  Panther  had  seized  me,  let  Lion  loose:  he 
sprang  over  me  in  an  instant,  and  made  an  attack  upon  the 
common  enemy,  whose  fury  was  now  aroused  to  the  highest 
pitch  by  the  ineffectual  shot:  the  odds  were  fearfully  great, 
as  a  single  blow  of  the  monster's  paw  was  sufficient  to  hurl 
the  poor  dog  with  violence  against  the  rocks,  and  fortu- 
nately, beyond  the  reach  of  another,  or  his  career  would 
have  ended  on  the  spot.  It  may  be  supposed  that  I  quit  the 
cave  with  all  convenient  despatch;  for  had  I  remained,  my 
condition  might  have  been  even  worse  than  poor  Lion's, 
whose  shoulder  and  side  exhibited  three  frightful  scratches, 
of  some  fourteen  inches  long,  which  left  four  of  his  ribs 
entirely  bare.  Our  efforts  to  dislodge  the  Panther,  proved, 
thus  far,  unavailing;  and  having  spent  much  time  and  labour, 
and  the  day  being  excessively  cold,  we  thought  of  blocking 
him  up  until  we  could  procure  assistance,  and  the  means 
necessary  to  accomplish  his  destruction,  for  we  felt  unwil- 
ling, after  all  our  toil,  to  suffer  him  to  escape.  I  recollected 
at  this  instant,  that  whilst  in  the  cave,  I  thought  I  saw  a 
ray  of  light  or  small  aperture  at  the  extreme  end,  when  the 
Panther  altered  its  position.  I  mentioned  this  circumstance 
to  my  companion,  who  proposed  an  examination  of  the  back 
part,  or  outer  side  of  the  cavern,  and  I  was  to  remain  at 
the  mouth,  whilst  he  proceeded  to  examine.  This  cavern 
(as  we  have  stated)  was  at  the  termination  of  the  ledge  of 
rocks,  and  jutted  out  considerably  from  the  mountain, 
against  which  a  gi-eat  number  of  hemlock  trees  had  fallen, 
and  these  being  covered  with  snow  at  the  time,  prevented 
our  seeing  the  exact  conformation  of  the  ledge,  until  I  men- 
tioned the  circumstance  of  my  seeing  the  light.  My  friend 
proceeded  there  instantly,  and  soon  returned  with  the  infor- 
mation, that  there  was  a  small  aperture  in  the  rock  about 
six  inches  wide  and  a  foot  long;  that  the  Panther  had  com- 
pletely jammed  up  the  hole  with  his  rump;  whilst  his  tail 
projected  outside  nearly  its  whole  length.     Here  was  a  dis- 


covery. I  shall  never  forget  the  expression  of  my  friend's 
countenance,  when  he  exclaimed,  with  great  emphasis,  "my 
gracious!  I  can  take  him  by  the  tail!  and  I  have  a  great 
mind  to  do  so.  I  can  then  say,  that  I  caught  a  full  grown, 
live  Panther  by  the  tail."  He  might,  indeed,  have  done 
so  with  impunity;  but  whether  the  measure  would  have 
been  politic,  was  another  consideration — one  thing  how- 
ever, was  certain,  that  was,  his  destruction,  for  which  we 
had  been  toiling  in  the  midst  of  peril — it  was  now  an  easy 
task;  the  bullet  might  be  driven  through  his  very  vitals, 
without  incurring  any  personal  risk.  Would  it,  I  thought, 
be  an  act  of  cruelty  to  destroy  this  cruelest  of  animals  in  his 
fancied  security?  or  would  it  not  rather  be  considered  a 
service  rendered  to  the  community  at  large?  This  animal 
might,  if  suffered  to  escape,  prowl  around  the  settler's  habi- 
tation, and  carry  off,  in  its  unguarded  moment,  the  helpless 
infant;  for  when  hunger  presses,  it  becomes  bold  and  dar- 
ing, and  nothing  in  the  shape  of  food  comes  amiss.  I  accord- 
ingly placed  my  rifle  near  his  rump,  and  fired,  the  ball 
coming  out  near  his  throat.  It  made  one  spring,  and  roared 
tremendously;  bit  the  rocks,  and  with  its  claws  attempted 
to  enlarge  the  aperture,  and  get  at  us;  but  the  wound  was 
mortal,  and  it  fell  dead  in  the  cave.  We  then  entered,  and 
fastening  a  withe  around  its  neck,  dragged  it  out:  it  proved  to 
be  a  male  of  the  largest  size.  We  took  it  with  us  to  our  village 
(Deposit)  from  whence  it  was  taken  to  Delphi,  in  the  same 
county;  and  although  Panthers  were  numerous  there;  yet 
the  circumstance  of  his  having  been  "caught  by  the  tail," 
excited  the  astonishment  of  all  who  witnessed  the  magni- 
tude of  the  monster.  T.  M.  H. 


ANECDOTE  OF  A  CROW. 

The  following  circumstance  was  lately  told  me  by  an  old 
gentleman,  a  member  of  the  Society  of  Friends,  and  one 
in  whose  veracity  I  place  the  utmost  reliance:  About 
ten  years  ago  as  he  was  riding  in  his  carriage  from  this  city 
to  his  residence  near  Darby,  passing  a  spot  of  marshy 
ground,  he  observed  a  Crow  hover  over  it,  presently  dart 
down,  and  immediately  ascend,  bearing  in  its  claws  a  Wood- 
cock, held  oddly  enough  by  one  wing,  and  struggling  vio- 
lently. As  the  direction  in  which  the  crow  passed  was 
directly  across  the  road  along  which  the  gentleman  was  tra- 
velling, he  formed  the  design  of  compelling  his  rapacious 
Crowship  to  release  the  captive.  With  his  whip  he  struck 
several  blows  sharply  upon  the  top  of  the  carriage,  and  at 
the  same  time,  raising  a  shout,  the  Crow  dropped  his  bur- 
den, and  flew  screaming  to  the  woods,  and  the  Woodcock  to 
his  marsh,  without  having  received  any  apparent  injury. 
Believing  the  foregoing  to  be  an  unusual  occurrence,  I 
submit  it  for  the  speculation  of  the  curious.  A.  B. 

May,  1S31. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


CANINE  ESTABLISHMENTS. 

The  two  largest  establishments  of  this  kind,  not  sporting 
ones,  are  in  the  hands  of  two  persons,  who  might  be  the 
least  expected  to  have  them.  The  first  is  lier  Royal  High- 
ness the  Duchess  of  York,  who  has  a  most  numerous  nur- 
sery of  Dogs  of  the  smaller  species,  of  every  age,  and  nearly 
of  every  country.  Not  having  the  happiness  to  enjoy  any 
other  nursery,  they  occupy  many  of  her  best  apartments, 
and  are  carefully  accommodated  with  cushions  to  rest  their 
wearied  limbs,  when  they  incline  to  repose;  and  it  requires 
some  dexterity,  on  entering  her  Highness's  apartments,  to 
steer  your  way  so  scientifically,  as  not  to  tread  on  any  of 
these  sleeping  beauties. 

Though  some  cynical  philosophers  might  call  this  pur- 
suit a  mode  of  getting  through  life  dog-cheap,  yet  it  affords 
some  useful  purposes.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  at  least,  an  in- 
nocent mode  of  passing  time;  and  secondl)-,  it  has  afforded 
many  opportunities  for  the  painter,  of  exercising  his  talent, 
and  having  his  skill  rewarded  by  the  munificence  of  her 
Royal  Highness,  who  has  almost  found  constant  employ- 
ment for  the  genius  of  an  Animal  painter,  Mr.  Chalon,  in 
painting  these  favourites. 

We  are  not  sure,  we  might  not  add  another  artist  to  the 
account,  we  mean  the  Undertaker,  as  we  understand,  many 
of  the  more  favoured  animals  have  been  buried  in  the  park 
at  Oatlands,  with  all  due  ceremony  and  decorum,  realizing 
the  Elysium  of  Virgil — 

cadem  sequilur  tellure  repostos 


The  next  Lady,  who  exhibits  this  remarkable  attachment 
to  the  canine  race,  is  the  beautiful  and  amiable  Viscountess 
Castlereagh,  who  has  the  same  excuse  to  plead,  as  her  Royal 
Highness  of  York — not  having  a  nursery  of  her  own,  to  en- 
gage her  attention,  or  employ  her  time.  Her  Academy  of 
Dogs,  if  we  may  be  allowed  the  expression,  is  on  a  far  differ- 
ent scale  from  those  of  the  Duchess  of  York,  hers  being  as 
diminutive  as  those  of  Lady  Castlereagh  are  grand  and  mag- 
nificent. Whether  the  diplomatic  interests  of  her  Lord, 
may  have  favoured  her  wishes,  is  uncertain;  but  she  pos- 
sesses dogs  of  different  countries,  wherever  size  and  beauty 
are  to  be  found.  Whoever  may  have  the  good  fortune  to 
meet  this  accomplished  lady,  in  her  walks  around  her  seat 
at  North  Carey,  in  Kent,  will  always  find  her  surrounded 
and  defended  by  a  most  powerful  and  magnificent  party  of 
dogs,  looking  "most  terrible  things,"  but  seeming  most 
perfectly  obedient  to  her  voice.  Amongst  her  collection, 
we  believe,  she  has  Russian,  Turkish,  and  Spanish  dogs. 

The  following  whimsical  anecdote  is  mentioned,  as  hav- 
ing occurred  to  her  Ladyship,  as  she  was  taking  one  of  her 
Nn 


accustomed  walks,  with  her  canine  guard:  a  man  who  was 
walking  on  the  road  came  up,  and  taking  off  his  hat,  said — 
"  I  suppose  as  how.  Ma'am,  you  be  a  dog-fancier,  or  may- 
hap you  exhibit  with  these  here  animals  at  different  pleaces. 
as  may  be  agreeable;  if  so  be,  as  it  may  be  suitable,  I  should 
be  glad  to  join  company,  having  a  few  dancing  dogs  of  my 
own." 

Her  Ladyship  laughed,  but  with  her  accustomed  grace  and 
good-humour,  informed  the  man — "  She  was  not  in  that  line 
of  business."  Scott. 


WHITE  FISH  OF  THE  LAKES. 

The  White  Fish  is  taken  by  both  whites  and  Indians  with 
a  scoop  net,  which  is  fastened  to  a  pole  about  ten  feet  long. 
It  is  hardly  possible  for  me  to  describe  the  skill  with  which 
the  Indians  take  these  fish.  But  I  will  try.  Two  of  them 
go  out  in  a  bark  canoe,  that  you  could  take  in  your  hand 
like  a  basket,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  rapids,  or  rather  just 
below  where  they  pitch  and  foam  most.  One  sits  near  the 
stern,  and  paddles;  the  other  stands  in  the  bow,  and  with 
the  dexterity  of  a  wire-dancer,  balances  "  this  egg-shell," 
that  you  or  I  would  be  certain  to  turn  over  in  our  attempts 
to  keep  steady.  When  a  fish  is  seen  through  the  water, 
which  is  clear  as  crystal,  the  place  is  indicated  by  the  man 
with  the  net,  when,  by  a  dexterous  and  quick  motion  of  the 
paddle,  by  the  Indian  holding  it,  he  shoots  the  canoe  to  the 
spot,  or  within  reach  of  it,  when  the  net  is  thrown  over  the 
fish,  and  it  is  scooped  up,  and  thrown  into  the  canoe — mean- 
while the  eye  of  the  person  in  the  stern  is  kept  steadily 
fixed  upon  the  breakers,  and  the  eddy,  and  whirl,  and  fury, 
of  the  current;  and  the  little  frail  bark  is  made  to  dance 
among  them,  lightsome  as  a  cork;  or  is  shot  away  into  a 
smoother  place,  or  kept  stationary  by  the  motion  of  that 
single  paddle,  as  circumstances  may  require  it.  It  is  not 
possible  to  look  at  these  fishermen  Indians,  and  Canada 
French,  and  even  boys  and  girls,  flying  about  over  these 
rapids,  and  reaching  out  this  pole  with  a  net  to  it,  without  a 
sensation  of  terror.  Yet  it  has  scarcely  ever  happened  that 
any  of  them  are  lost;  and  I  believe  never,  unless  when 
they  have  been  drunk. 

This  fish  being,  in  the  universal  estimation,  the  finest 
that  swims,  and  resembles  our  shad,  except  its  head,  which 
is  smaller  and  more  pointed.  Their  weight  varies  from  four 
to  ten,  and  sometimes  fourteen  pounds.  The  meat  is  as 
white  as  the  breast  of  a  partridge;  and  the  bones  are  less 
numerous  and  larger  than  in  our  shad.  I  never  tasted  any 
thing  of  the  fish  kind,  not  even  excepting  my  Oneida  trout, 
to  equal  it.  It  is  said  they  do  not  retain  this  character  after 
being  salted;  in  this  respect  our  shad  and  salmon  have  the 
preference. 


THF  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


REPLY  TO  SPORTSMAN'S  REJOINDER. 

Messbs.  Editors: — Your  Correspondent,  the  ^^Sports- 
man," certainly  deserves  much  credit  for  his  ingenuity  in 
discovering  the  assailable  points  in  my  argument,  and  I 
acknowledge  there  may  be  much  truth  in  some  parts  of  his 
reply — but  I  regret  he  has  not  comprehended  my  diagram, 
and  on  this  miscomprehension,  has  founded  a  system  of 
reasoning  and  proof  entirely  irrelevant  to  the  case.  In  my 
explanation  of  the  problem,  I  supposed  that  one  second  of 
time  might  elapse  from  the  commencem,ent  of  pulling 
the  trigger  to  the  arrival  of  the  load,  which  we  will 
presume,  to  simplify  the  case,  to  be  a  ball,  at  the  muzzle. 
This,  I  imagine,  would  not  be  much  out  of  the  way,  for  a 
sensible  interval  of  time  does  ensue,  after  the  finger  begins 
to  press  the  trigger,  before  the  load  issues  from  the  barrel. 
When  it  has  arrived  at  the  very  muzzle,  and  that  muzzle 
still  bearing  full  on  the  object,  is  the  instant  that  my  prin- 
ciple commences,  the  preceding  being  a  mere  introduction 
to  the  case.  Let  us  imagine  the  gun  and  the  object  to  be 
stationary,  the  ball  will  of  course  pass  straight  from  one  to  the 
other.  Let  us  suppose  the  bird  alone  to  be  in  motion,  at 
S7  feet  in  the  second,  the  ball  will  necessarily,  if  it  take  a 
second  to  fly  from  the  gun  to  where  the  bird  was  at  the  mo- 
ment of  discharge,  be  S7  feet  behind  the  bird.  The  ball 
has  in  this  case  but  one  motion,  and  that  a  forward  one. 
We  will  now  in  addition  give  it  a  latteral  force.  The 
gun,  of  course,  is  useless  to  the  load  after  it  has  issued, 
and  its  movement  may  therefore  cease.  The  ball  depends 
for  its  forward  projection,  on  the  powder,  and  for  its  late- 
ral power,  on  the  motion  of  the  gun,  and  on  no  other 
possible  cause.  Suppose  the  ball  be  thrown  from  a  mere  hol- 
low and  no  barrel  to  exist,  it  would  necessarily  go  straight 
forward  from  its  chamber  to  the  point  toward  which  it  was 
directed.  If  we  give  it  a  tube  to  pass  thro',  up  to  the  very  ob- 
ject itself,  it  will  reach  the  object  it  is  true,  but  every  inch  it 
travels  the  route,  it  is  receiving  from  this  passage  a  lateral 
force  which  increases  from  the  chamber,  which  we  will 
take  for  the  centre  of  motion,  to  the  end,  being  from  a 
unit,  to  87  feet  in  the  second.  During  the  passage  of  the 
ball  through  a  tube  thus  in  motion,  it  will,  whilst  in  the  canal, 
perform  a  portion  of  an  elipse — somewhat  on  the  same  prin- 
ciple that  a  body  projected  into  the  air  will  do  it,  to  return  to 
the  same  point  from  whence  it  started — being  caused  in  one 
case,  by  the  lateral  pressure  of  the  tube,  and  in  the  other,  the 
attraction  of  gravitation,  being  in  the  latter  instance  a  variable 
power,  acting  every  instant  in  a  difi'crent  line  according  to 
the  point  over  which  the  object  is  passing.  In  the  case  in 
dispute,  the  ball,  so  soon  as  it  issues  from  the  barrel,  will 
pass  in  a  right  line,  because  gravitation  is  not  considered, 
and  the  projectile  has  received  all  the  forces  that  can  influ- 
ence it.    The  '  Sportsman'  does  not  object  to  the  swing  of  the 


muzzle  of  an  ordinary  gun  being  10  feet  in  the  second;  or 
he  may  take  any  distance  he  may  choose,  for,  a  principle 
that  is  ^'■2}hilosophically  correct,"  cannot  be  invalidated 
by  a  change  of  proportion  alone.  When  the  ball  has  there- 
fore arrived  at  the  end  of  the  barrel,  it  will  have  passed  thro' 
a  given  distance  from  the  centre  of  motion,  and  acquired 
the  sole  lateral  power  of  the  part  to  which  it  may  be  at  the 
instant  attached, and  if  it  remain  attached, and  the  muzzle  per- 
form a  circle,  would  arrive  at  the  same  point  again,  in  a  time 
exactly  according  to  the  rate  of  motion  of  the  part  to  which 
it  was  fixed.  We  will  however  let  it  loose  during  some  part 
of  the  revolution,  and  how  fast  will  it  go,  allowing  it  has 
received  no  impulse  other  than  the  circulatory  motion  of 
the  part.  Certainly  not  more  rapidly  than  the  source  of  its 
motion,  the  muzzle,  exactly  as  in  "Sportsman's"  case  of  a 
man  on  a  fleet  horse,  the  object  thrown,  possessing  precisely 
the  same  forward  momentum,  and  returning  by  the  power  of 
gravitation  to  his  hand, — or  in  the  sailing  ship,  the  object 
retaining  a  certain  force  parallel  to  the  surface  of  the 
earth,  besides  the  downward  gravitation,  and  arriving  at  the 
foot  of  the  mast,  simply,  because  the  foot  of  the  mast  is  tra- 
velling at  the  same  identical  rate  that  the  head  is,  and  the 
falling  body  possessing  precisely  the  same  momentum. — 
Please  tell  me,  Messrs.  Editors,  where  the  parallelism  can 
be,  between  these  instances  of  "Sportsman"  and  the  shoot- 
ing, for  he  certainly  proves  by  them,  that  a  projected  body 
receives  the  lateral  momentum  of  the  part  from  whence 
it  issues,  and  no  more.  In  his  illustrations,  he  forgets  that 
every  point  and  body  considered,  are  moving  at  the  same 
rate — whereas,  in  the  shooting  problem,  the  breech  of  the 
gun  may  be  supposed  a  Jixed  centre  of  motion,  around 
which  the  other  bodies  are  revolving,  and  each  possessing 
a  different  rapidity  in  proportion  to  its  distance  from  the 
centre.  Let  me  take  another  instance  of  the  "Sports- 
man," for  I  certainly  desire  to  afford  him  every  ad- 
vantage in  my  power.  We  will  allow,  the  surface  of  the 
earth  moves  at  the  rate  of  950  feet  from  west  to  east 
in  a  second  of  time,  and  will  imagine  a  tower  sufficiently 
elevated  above  its  surface,  the  top  of  which,  must  describe  a 
a  circle  as  much  greater  than  the  surface  of  the  earth  as 
will  require  in  the  revolution  round  the  axis,  a  circulatory 
momentum  of  1000  feet  in  the  second  to  preserve  its  rela- 
tive situation.  Suppose  a  body  to  be  projected  from  the  earth 
at  the  foot,  exactly  towards  the  top  of  the  tower.  At  start- 
ing, it  possesses  a  lateral  force  of  950  feet  in  the  second, 
and  during  a  second,  has  arrived  at  the  same  height  as  this 
supposed  point.  Now  where  will  it  be  ?  The  answer  is 
self-evident,  it  will  be  50  feet  behind  the  object  towards 
which  it  was  directly  pointed  at  the  moment  of  its  departure. 
It  still  retains  its  side  force  of  950  feet  in  a  second,  and  on 
returning  to  the  earth  at  the  expiration  of  the  second  second, 
will  reach  the  point  from  whence  it  started,  although  tha*. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


point  will  be  now  1900  feet  to  the  east.  But  in  its  flight,  it  will 
have  made  a  mathetnatical  angle,  from  a  direct  line  drawn 
from  the  point  of  emission  to  the  centre  of  the  earth,  the 
maximum  of  its  altitude  being  50  feet  west  of  a  perpendi- 
cular, but  as  in  measurable  distances  this  would  be  inappre- 
ciable, it  need  not  be  considered.  Let  us  reverse  the  case, 
and  suppose  a  body  let  fall  from  this  point  in  the  air  which 
is  passing  forward  at  1000  feet,  and  it  reaches  the  earth 
which  is  travelling  at  950  feet  in  the  second.  Now  where 
will  the  body  touch  on  the  surface  ?  Just  50  feet  in  advance 
of  the  foot  of  the  tower. 

All  this  proves,  that  if  the  muzzle  of  the  gun  be  passing 
laterally  at  the  rate  of  10  feet  in  the  second,  the  ball  can 
possibly  receive  but  the  same  momentum,  and  whether  the 
load  be  one  second  or  the  20th  part,  in  passing  to  the  object, 
the  proportion  will  be  the  same. 

In  addition  to  all  this,  the  duck-shooters  who  live  at 
Egg-harbour  and  on  the  Chesapeake,  have  always  advis- 
ed to  give  a  certain  allowance.  I  have  conversed  with 
scores  of  them,  and  have  never  heard  a  variance  of  senti- 
ment, and  in  objecting  to  a  short  gun,  the  reason  they  have 
urged  was,  that  they  had  to  give  their  aim  so  much 
advance.  At  sixty  yards,  heavy  shot  will  scatter  several 
feet  when  fired  from  the  best  gun,  and  therefore,  many 
birds  are  struck,  when  the  mass  of  the  load  may  have  passed 
far  behind  the  duck. 

In  common  game,  it  would  be  absurd  to  make  any  allow- 
ance, from  the  slowness  of  flight,  and  general  nearness  of 
object,  and  where  the  number  of  pellets  is  so  great,  the 
space  covered,  will  be  more  than  sufficient.  It  is  with  a 
ball  alone,  the  matter  can  be  determined. 

With  respect  to  the  rest  of  "Sportsman  Rejoinder,"  his 
explanation  and  reasoning  are  certainly  convincing,  and 
it  gives  me  much  pleasure  to  acknowledge  the  cor- 
rectness of  his  philosophy.  That  a  peculiar  sound  can 
be  heard  when  ducks  are  struck,  there  is  no  doubt,  though 
it  is  more  than  probable,  the  non-entering  pellets  produce 
it ;  although,  as  I  before  remarked,  a  ball  that  passes 
through  a  deer  can  be  heard  distinctly  to  strike.  My  object 
was  merely  to  prove,  that  sufficient  time  did  elapse,  for  the 
sound  to  be  heard  distinctly  by  the  shooter,  and  that  rarely 
a  duck  was  killed,  without  sorne  of  the  shot  being  heard  im- 
pinging, and  old  duck  shooters  have  informed  me  they 
could  say  without  hesitation,  from  the  sound  alone,  what 
part  of  the  bird  received  the  load.  I.  T.  S. 


Extract  of  a  Letter  from  a  Gentleman  in  the  Country 
to  his  Friend  in  Philadelphia. 

'•  There  is  now  in  the  grove  near  the  house,  a  cock  phea- 
sant which  drums  every  A&y.  Yesterday  morning  as  I 
came  out  of  the  east  door,  which  leads  from  the  house  to 


the  office,  a  favourite  peacock  was  standing  close  to  it,  and 
I  heard  behind  a  lilac  bush,  two  or  three  yards  from  the 
door,  the  pheasant's  peculiar  clucking  noise:  as  I  wished 
not  to  disturb  him,  I  walked  on  towards  the  office;  but  had 
scarcely  passed  the  bush  ere  he  went  ofl"  with  a  whirr,  almost 
touching  Jack,  the  peacock,  who  seemed  to  mistake  the  noise 
for  that  of  some  missile  aimed  at  him.  He  took  to  his  wings, 
his  long  tail,  which  spreads  ten  feet,  dangling  after  him,  and 
scolding  all  the  way,  flew  to  one  of  the  tall  trees  on  the  lake 
shore,  where  he  spent  an  hour  on  the  liighest  branch,  appa- 
rently in  deep  reflection  as  to  the  cause  of  his  alarm.  I  saw 
him  afterwards  with  his  long  neck  stretched  out,  treading 
most  gently  on  tiptoe,  and  examining  with  his  keen  eyes 
behind  the  lilac  bush.  It  is  not  a  trifle  that  will  frighten 
Jack.  He  is  very  familiar,  and  comes  at  a  call  to  take  an}' 
thing  from  your  hand.  He  possesses  great  courage,  and  has 
several  battles  daily  with  two  superb  wild  turkey  co^s  of 
great  size  and  most  brilliant  plumage,  which  we  have  do- 
mesticated. Last  jcar,  when  they  were  in  their  second 
season,  he  beat  them  both,  but  this  year  they  overpower 
him  with  their  great  weight;  and  besides,  they  are  now 
joined  by  a  son,  a  lialf-blood,  which  renders  the  battle  very 
unequal.  But  Jack's  rule  is,  never  to  decline  a  combat  of- 
fered by  them,  and  the  servants  have  very  frequently  to 
use  switches  to  separate  the  belligerents.  Whilst  I  write, 
I  hear  Jack's  shout  of  defiance  on  the  south  side  of  the  office, 
answered  by  the  war  cry  gobble  of  the  turkies  on  the  north, 
and  I  shall  have  to  ring  the  bell  for  some  mediator  to  in- 
terpose between  them."  May,  1831. 


Notes  of  a  Naturalist.     By  Jacob  Gbeen,  M.  D. 
SAGACITY  OF  A  DOG. 

'Tis  thought  by  some,  that  all  animals  are  surrounded  by 
an  odoriferous  atmosphere,  and  that  each  species,  and  even 
each  individual,  emits  a  volatile  principle  peculiar  to  itself 
I  knew  a  person  whose  sense  of  smell  was  so  exceedingly 
delicate  as  to  enable  him  to  distinguish  his  friends  by  this 
odorous  principle  alone.  From  some  recent  experiments 
of  a  French  chemist,  this  odour  is  found  in  the  blood,  and 
may  be  readily  produced  from  it  by  the  addition  of  a  little 
strong  sulphuric  acid.  Every  one  familiar  with  rural  em- 
ployments knows,  that  after  sheep  have  been  washed  or 
shorn,  there  is  great  confusion  among  the  flock;  the  lambs 
and  ewes  run  bleating  about,  and  it  is  some  time  before  the 
mother  and  the  offspring  recognize  each  other.  This  embar- 
rassment, is,  no  doubt,  occasioned  by  the  loss  or  the  dimi- 
nution, in  intensity,  of  the  volatile  odoriferous  principle 
peculiar  to  each.  It  has  been  long  ago  remarked,  that  the 
brute  creation  recognize  each  other  more  from  the  smell 
than  the  sight.     The  following  anecdote  may  serve  still 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


farther  to  illustrate  this  curious  subject.  It  was  recorded  in 
my  diary  some  years  ago. 

At  my  boarding  house  in  Albany,  there  is  an  old  family 
dog,  called  Cesar.  This  animal  seems  to  have  a  special  and 
violent  antipathy  to  all  swine:  the  moment  a  hog  makes 
his  appearance  in  the  street,  or  in  the  extensive  yard  attach- 
ed to  the  house,  Cesar  will  dash  upon  it,  and  worry  it  in 
the  most  violent  manner.  Among  the  servants  in  our  esta- 
blishment, we  have  a  little  French  barber  named  Ferdinand: 
now  Ferdinand  and  Cesar  are  almost  inseparable  friends; 
Cesar  espouses  the  cause  of  his  master,  right  or  wrong,  on 
all  occasions;  and  Ferdinand  protects  his  canine  liend,  with 
the  enthusiasm  of  his  countrymen,  from  all  the  assaults  of 
cook,  scullion,  or  lackey.  In  process  of  time,  Ferdinand, 
by  the  consent  of  our  host,  established  a  piggery  in  the 
yard,  and  who,  but  Cesar,  has  undertaken  to  watch  over 
his  little  herd,  which  arc  permitted  occasionally  to  roam 
about  in  the  streets  of  the  city.  Ferdinand's  hogs  are  all 
entirely  white,  and  often  after  their  excursions  abroad,  they 
are  accompanied  home  by  a  host  of  acquaintances  of  the  like 
colour;  but  Cesar  never  suffered  one  of  the  strangers  to  re- 
main on  our  premises.  He  knows  his  master's  property 
much  better  than  he  does  himself;  and  should  he  not  be 
present  when  they  are  fed,  he  is  always  called  to  ascertain 
if  any  strangers  are  present,  and  it  is  surprising  with  what 
quickness  and  certainty  he  discovers,  and  unceremoniously 
ejects  them . 

It  is  well  known  that  our  Indians  keep  their  various 
troops  of  horses,  which  are  pastured  in  the  wilds  of  Florida, 
separate  from  each  other,  by  means  of  dogs  trained  up  for 
the  purpose.  These  dogs  differ,  however,  from  Cesar,  in- 
asmuch as  he  is  self  taught,  and  this  when  eight  or  nine 
years  of  age.  Bartram  in  his  Travels  relates  the  story  of 
an  Indian  dog  who  kept  his  master's  horses  together  on  a 
wide  plain,  about  ten  miles  distant  from  his  wigwam.  The 
dog  when  hungry  came  home  for  his  food,  but  never  re- 
mained there  during  the  night. — See  Bartram's  Travels, 
pp.  222-3. 

While  noticing  the  sagacity  of  the  dog,  I  will  state  two 
other  facts,  which,  though  they  have  been  frequently  wit- 
nessed by  sportsmen,  are  perhaps  worth  recording. 

On  a  shooting  party  the  other  day  in  company  with  some 
friends,  we  killed  a  rabbit,  and  our  pointer  slut,  Venus, 
while  fetching  the  rabbit  in  her  mouth,  came  to  a  dead 
point  at  a  pheasant  about  twenty  yards  distant. 

My  friend,  J.  B.,  informs  me,  that  when  hunting  with 
three  dogs,  it  frequently  happened,  that  when  one  of  his 
dogs  pointed  a  bird,  the  second  dog  would  point  the 
first,  though  out  of  scent  of  the  bird,  and  the  third  dog,  per- 
haps not  seeing  the  first,  would  set  at  the  second;  thus 
forming  a  kind  of  telegraph  of  two  or  three  hundred 
yards,  to  the  sportsman.  J.  G. 


INSTINCT  OF  THE  SPIDER. 

The  wonderful  ingenuity  frequently  exercised  by  most 
animals,  in  securing  the  means  of  sustenance,  must  be  fa- 
miliar to  every  observer  of  nature.  In  no  class  of  animals 
are  the  instincts  resorted  to  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining 
food,  more  surprising  than  in  that  which  is  considered  the 
lowest  in  the  scale  of  animal  life.  For  this  end  we  often 
find  many  insects  endowed  with  a  kind  of  foresight,  and 
apparently  exercising  a  degree  of  philosophic  induction, 
and  a  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  mechanics,  which  are  not 
surpassed  by  all  the  boasted  powers  of  man.  The  little  pit 
falls  constructed  by  the  Lion-ant,  and  the  ingenious  means 
used  by  many  of  our  common  insects  to  entrap  their  prey, 
must  be  familiar  to  most  of  your  readers.  The  following 
instance  of  ingenuity  and  mechanical  skill  used  by  a  small 
House-spider  in  lifting  the  carcase  of  a  large  fly  a  foot  or  two 
from  the  floor,  may  be  depended  upon. 

Some  days  since  a  little  Spider  was  observed  under  an 
arm  chair,  running  to  and  fro,  and  exhibiting  marks  of 
great  bustle  and  anxiety.  Upon  watching  its  proceedings 
its  nest  was  soon  found  under  the  bottom  of  the  chair,  and 
the  dead  body  of  a  fly,  much  larger  and  heavier  than  itself, 
was  seen  lying  on  the  carpet  below.  It  was  evidently  the 
intention  of  the  Spider  to  raise  up  this  heavy  load  and  to 
deposit  it  safely  in  its  storehouse  for  future  use;  but  how, 
with  its  strength,  could  this  be  effected?  He  commenced 
his  tedious  and  singularly  scientific  operation  by  attaching 
a  line,  or  strong  fibre  of  his  web,  to  one  of  the  legs  of  the 
chair  about  four  inches  from  the  floor,  and  then  fastening 
the  fibres  to  the  body  of  the  fly,  he  extended  the  line  to  the 
opposite  leg  of  the  chair,  and  there  fastened  it  about  the 
same  height  from  the  floor  as  in  the  first  instance.  As 
the  fly  lying  on  the  carpet  was  much  nearer  the  one  of  the 
legs  of  the  chair  than  the  other,  the  two  lines  which  formed 
an  angle  with  the  body,  were  of  different  lengths.  As  the 
Spider  now  slowly  moved  along  the  longest  end  of  the  line, 
the  weight  of  the  fly  was  thus  overcome  by  a  mechanical 
advantage,  and  raised  a  little  distance  from  the  floor. 
Every  one  knows  that  the  lever  is  the  most  simple  of  all 
the  mechanical  powers,  and  one  to  which  all  the  others  may 
be  referred.  In  the  contrivance  of  the  Spider  it  will  be 
noticed  that  that  form  of  the  lever  which  is  used  where  the 
fulcrum  is  at  one  end,  ihe power  at  the  other,  and  the  weight 
between  them,  the  Spider,  having  ascertained  that  portion 
of  his  lever  which,  when  depressed,  would  lift  his  prey 
to  the  greatest  altitude,  fastened  it  in  that  position,  by  a  clue, 
which  reached  from  that  part  to  the  floor.  By  repeating 
this  same  operation  several  times,  the  fly  was  at  last  safely 
deposited  in  his  nest  above.  I  must  not  forget,  however,  to 
mention  that  when  each  new  lever  was  constructed,  the 
weight  was  carefully  detached  from  all  the  fastenings  below. 

J.  G. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


COMMUNICATION  FROM  SUSQUEHANNA  COUNTY. 
with  a  drawing  of  trout. 

Dear  E., 

I  RECEIVED  a  few  days  ago,  from  Messrs.  Doughty,  the 
four  numbers  which  they  have  published  of  their  "  Cabinet 
of  Natural  History  and  American  Rural  Sports,"  accompa- 
nied by  a  letter,  which  is  entitled  to  a  verj'  courteous  an- 
swer. They  suppose  that  I  could  render  them  some  assist- 
ance in  their  work;  but  what  time  have  I  to  write,  except, 
currente  calamo,  in  the  way  I  usually  talk  to  you,  pen  in 
hand?  I  am  not  acquainted,  personally,  with  either  of 
those  gentlemen;  but  I  know  perfectly  well  the  style  and 
manner  of  one  of  them,  in  his  beautiful  landscapes,  and 
could  point  out  one  of  his  pieces  among  an  hundred  others. 
I  wish  the  editors  every  success  which  they  can  desire;  but 
how  can  I  assist  them  in  their  present  work  ?  To  be  sure, 
I  could  tell  some  hunting  stories  for  their  book;  but  many 
around  you  could  do  the  same,  as  all  our  countrymen  are 
marksmen;  yet,  it  is  probable,  that,  of  your  citizen-shoot- 
ers, the  most  expert  at  bagging  woodcock  and  snipe,  have 
never  shot,  as  I  have,  an  elk  when  at  his  full  long  trot,  just 
as,  from  left  to  right,  he  crossed  a  small  opening  in  the 
thicket,  with  a  rifle  ball,  so  exactly  through  the  heart,  as  to 
bleed  him  to  death  before  he  could  take  twenty  steps  after 
the  trigger  was  drawn;  and  then,  with  the  assistance  of  a 
companion  of  the  forest,  stretched  his  skin  on  a  pole,  at- 
tached to  two  forked  sticks,  in  time  to  form  a  shelter  from 
a  severe  thunder  storm,  and  couched  myself,  dry  and  com- 
fortable, under  it,  while  a  deluge  of  rain  fell  unceasingly 
throughout  the  ensuing  night.  And,  perhaps,  you  have  no 
one  near  you,  unless  it  may  be  Mr.  T.  R.  Peale,  who  could 
say,  as  I  could,  that  he  eat  a  slice  of  a  buffalo,  admirably 
roasted,  in  fifteen  minutes  after  the  rifle  was  discharged 
which  killed  the  animal.  But  Mr.  P.  must  know  how  ex- 
peditiously hungry  hunters  can  prepare  a  meal,  without 
thinking  of  Macbeths  advice. 


"  If  it  were  done,  when  'lis  done,  tlien  'twere  well 
It  were  done  quickly," 

which,  I  believe,  has  been  quoted  in  the  Cows  Gastrono- 
mique.  How  well  Peale  or  Doughty  could  sketch  the 
scene!  One  person  is  kindling  a  fire  of  dry  sticks  and 
leaves;  another,  having  cut  the  skin  just  over  the  hump,  is 
slicing  with  his  scalping  knife,  that  delicate  morsel  so  well 
known  to  all  hunters  in  the  "far  west;"  while  a  third  is 
employed  in  fixing  the  pieces  on  slender  rods,  like  skewers, 
and  sticking  one  end  into  the  ground,  the  other  being  sloped 
at  a  proper  angle  to  the  clear  blaze,  and  almost  touching  the 
flame.  I  should  like  to  know  which  of  your  restaurateurs 
could  furnish  a  dish  equal  to  that  repast — the  side  of  the 
0  o 


piece  sliced  away,  when  roasted  to  the  depth  of  half  an 
inch,  and  while  that  was,  as  novel  writers  say,  "  discussed," 
a  new  surface  was  presented  to  the  fire — the  noble  animal 
that  furnished  the  meal,  lying  invitingly  by  the  side  of  the 
party,  his  dark  head  with  its  curled  hair  and  short  horns, 
presenting,  like  the  black  bull's  head  of  Ravenswood,  with 
his  "  I  bide  my  time;"  but  serving  as  a  better  omen  to  the 
partakers  of  the  feast.  Some  fastidious  persons  may  turn 
from  this  as  an  Abyssinian  repast:  but  there  is  no  squeam- 
ishness  of  that  kind  to  be  found  in  the  prairies.  Ask  Mr. 
T.  R.  P.  whose  looks  bespeak  him  a  very  gentlemanly  as 
well  as  amiable  man,  what  he  thinks  of  the  relish  of  the  buf- 
falo hump,  eaten  in  that  way,  in  the  western  prairies.  I 
assure  you,  that  it  would  not  require  the  appetite  of  Gudgel, 
the  fat  caterer  for  the  Abbey,  in  the  Hunt  of  Gildon.  The 
boar  Crowdie  would  have  been  nothing  to  the  bos  ferus — 
the  bos  ferus!  why,  that  is  the  phrase  of  Cooper's  Dr.  Bat- 
tius  in  his  prairie!  What  an  abominable  caricature  he  has 
made  of  that  Dr.  Bat!  a  "  Vespertilio  horribilis,"  indeed! 
I  am  mortified  and  vexed  at  Cooper  for  losing  so  fine  an  op- 
portunity of  displaying  a  naturalist  in  all  his  glory.  How 
a  botanist  might  have  raved!  How  a  geologist  might  have 
ranted! — and  yet,  all  been  true  to  nature.  Most  absurd 
Dr.  Bat!  Cooper  would  never  have  suffered  you  on  ship- 
board; or  if  by  any  means  you  had  got  there,  long  Tom 
Coffin  would  have  thrown  j'ou  overboard  with  as  little  com- 
punction as  he  would  feel  at  harpooning  a  whale. 

Do  you  know  *  *  *  *?  Perhaps  not;  for  he  endea- 
vours to  keep  out  of  sight.  He  likes  to  see  every  thing; 
but  to  avoid  being  seen  himself  Almost  infantine  in  his 
simplicity — simplex  munditiis  emphatically.  Impassion- 
ed only  in  his  particular  pursuit.  If  he  met  Venus,  attired 
by  the  Graces,  walking  in  Chesnut  street,  he  would  take  no 
notice  of  her;  or  if,  by  any  possible  chance,  he  did  observe 
her,  he  would  think  her  but  so-so;  yet  in  the  seclusion  of 
his  study — (I  am  almost  tempted  to  describe  his  study  to 
you) — he  can  write  in  the  fervid  style  of  a  lover,  about  "  a 
most  exquisite  collection  of  reptiles!"  Ah!  I  wish  *  *  *  * 
had  sat  for' his  picture!  Instead  of  the  rude  bistre  daub 
of  Dr.  Bat,  what  beautiful  drawing  might  have  been  ex- 
pected! What  strong  lights  and  shadows,  with  here  and 
there  a  demi-tint,  or  neutral  colour,  slightl}'  appearing 
through  them,  would  have  been  thrown  on  the  canvass  by 
the  painter — in  general,  a  master  of  his  art.  I  wish  you 
knew  *  *  *  *.  His  plain  face,  and  his  plain  garb,  would 
not  attract  your  eyes.  You  might  be  in  his  company  for  a 
month  and  take  no  notice  of  him ;  and  he  would  take  none  of 
you,  if  he  thought  you  were  of  the  common  herd — that  is, 
engaged  only  in  the  common  business,  or  common  amuse- 
ments of  life — the  ignobile  vulgus,  as  he  considers  them, 
great  as  well  as  small;  for  the  wealth  of  "Rothschild's  or 
the  Barings"  is  nothing  in  his  view,  except  as  it  might  be 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


made  subservient  to  the  collection  of  a  cabinet  of  zoology, 
ichthyology,  geology,  mineralogy,  &c.  &c.  Solomon  him- 
self did  not  behold  the  pleasures  that  distract  mankind  with 
more  contempt,  when  in  his  silly  and  well  known  fit  of  dis- 
gust, he  said,  that  "  all  was  vanity."  But  draw  out  *  *  *  *. 
Ask  him  why  acotyledonous  stiped  and  culmiferous  plants, 
bivalve  mollusci  and  chambered  univalves  were  created  be- 
fore the  depositions  of  the  last  of  the  arglllite;  or  why  the 
ncotj^ledonous  and  monocotyledonous  plants  before  the 
animals,  and  you  shall  hear  him  talk — "Good  gods!  how 
lie  will  talk!"  as  the  mad  poet  makes  one  of  his  heroines 
say  of  Alexander  the  Great.  The  enthusiasm  of  a  geologi- 
cal friend  of  mine,  with  whom  I  have  the  honour  some- 
times to  correspond,  and  who  in  his  last  published  work 
says,  that  "the  brilliant  constellation  of  resplendent  iumi-. 
naries,"  (alluding  to  certain  persons  whom  he  names,  who 
have  written  about  stones  and  earth,)  "who  began  at  this 
epoch  to  enlighten  both  subterranean  hemispheres,"  is  no- 
thing to  *  *  *  *  when  thoroughly  excited  by  his  favourite 
subject.  I  believe  the  greatest  regret  that  *****  ever  ex- 
perienced was,  that  he  could  not  have  lived  during  that  re- 
mote state  of  our  globe,  when  animals  of  the  Saurian  family, 
seventy  feet  long,  (their  necks  thirty  feet,)  swam  and 
sported  in  the  vast  profound.  He  really  sighs  for  the  days 
longpast  of  the  megalosaurus  and  the  pleslosaurus!  "What," 
said  he  to  me  one  day,  his  eyes  flashing  at  the  thought, 
"what  a  glorious  time  they  must  have  had!  Ah,  there 
can  be  nothing  like  it  now!"  And  yet  *'  *  *  '*  must  think 
that  the  world  is  rapidly  growing  better;  for  he  says  that 
the  inferior  animals  are  all  dying  off  as  fast  as  they  can;  and 
that  the  plastic  hand  of  nature  is  occupied  in  preparing  the 
materiel  for  the  formation  of  superior  ones  to  occupy  their 
places;  and  he  is  as  confident  as  of  any  thing  at  present  before 
his  eyes,  that  the  time  will  soon  come,  (by  soon,  I  believe  he 
means  only  ten  or  twenty  thousand  years,)  when  every 
thing  inferior  to  man  will  have  perished,  and  myriads  of 
genera,  infinitely  his  superior,  will  have  been  created.  For 
my  own  part,  I  am  far  from  being  satisfied  that  this  will  be 
a  pleasant  state  for  poor  man  to  be  in;  for  I  remember  when  I 
was  a  school-boy,  I  always  objected  to  change  from  the 
head  of  one  class,  and  take  my  seat  at  the  tail  of  the  one  next 
above  it.  I  would  have  made  no  objection  to  jump  to  the 
middle  of  the  form;  but  never  liked  the  equivocal  honour 
of  the  single  step.  Burns  appears  to  have  been  of  the  same 
opinion  of  *  *  *  *,  and,  like  our  naturalist,  thought  that  na- 
ture, having  tried  "  her  prentice  hand,"  went  on  improving 
her  skill  by  practice. 

I  wish  I  were  enthusiastic;  for  I  like  enthusiastic  people. 
The  sensation  must  at  all  times  be  delightful.  How  difier- 
ently  do  different  eyes  behold  the  same  object!  An  Eng- 
lish traveller,  in  his  journal,  while  descending  the  Missis- 
sippi, says  that  the  alligators  looked  like  black  logs  on  the 


water,  drifting  with  the  current;  and  that  one  day,  he 
took  a  canoe,  and  went  off  to  kill  one,  fired  at  it,  and  when 
he  picked  it  up,  found  it  to  be  a  large  bull-frog,  weighing 
nearly  four  pounds.  What  a  bathos  this  is!  I  will  say 
nothing  about  Audebon's  alligators — since  his  story  of  the 
rattlesnake,  I  keep  clear  of  Audebon;  but  how  does  one  of 
our  own  honest  chroniclers  and  lovers  of  nature  describe 
the  alligator?  "Behold  him  rushing  from  the  flags  and 
reeds.  His  enormous  body  swells.  His  plaited  tail,  bran- 
dished on  high,  floats  upon  the  lake.  The  waters,  like  a 
cataract,  descend  from  his  opening  jaws.  Clouds  of  smoke 
issue  from  his  dilated  nostrils.  The  earth  trembles  with 
his  thunder."  This  is  something  quite  Osslanic;  although 
I  must  confess  that  I  do  not  see  how  his  tail  could  float  on 
the  lake,  while  he  was  brandishing  it  on  high. 

One  man  shall  tell  you,  in  homely  phrase,  that  the  In- 
dian on  horseback  was  very  near  getting  a  shot  at  a  deer; 
but  that  the  deer  ran  off.  Another  person,  properly  im- 
bued with  the  sublime  and  beautiful,  in  narrating  the  same 
thing,  says,  "  The  red  warrior,  whose  plumed  head  flashes 
lightning,  whoops  in  vain.  His  proud,  ambitious  horse 
strains  and  pants;  the  earth  glides  from  under  his  feet;  his 
flowing  mane  dances  in  the  wind  as  he  comes  up,  full  of 
vain  hopes:  but  the  bounding  buck  views  his' rapid  ap- 
proach, lifts  aloft  his  antlered  head,  erects  his  white  flag, 
and  his  shrill  whistle  says  to  his  fleet  and  free  associates, 
'  Follow!'  In  a  few  minutes  he  distances  his  foe,  turns  about 
and  laughing  says,  '  How  vain!  Go  chase  meteors  In  the 
azure  plains  above,  or  hunt  butterflies  in  the  fields  about 
your  towns.'"  I  will  make  no  comparison  between  this 
horse  and  that  of  the  poet,  whose  speed  devoured  the 
ground;  nor  between  this  laughing  buck  and  the  war-horse 
which  cried,  ha!  ha! — nor  will  I  stop  to  notice  the  tauto- 
logy of  his  lifting  aloft  his  head,  nor  "the  azure  plains 
above,"  which  existed  in  his  philosophy;  but  I  will  say  to 
my  acquaintance  Cooper,  as  the  above-mentioned  buck, 
or  any  other  sensible  animal  might  say,  even  without  the 
buck's  peculiar  and  emphatic  whistle.  Do,  for  Heaven's 
sake,  my  good  fellow,  banish  the  miserable  Dr.  Bat  from 
the  prairie,  and  send  him  to  hunt  butterflies  about  your 
towns. 

But  how  I  have  wandered  I  I  began  this  with  the  inten- 
tion of  sending  you  for  "The  Cabinet,"  a  drawing  by  a 
young  lady  of  your  acquaintance,  of  the  particular  kind  of 
Trout  found  in  Silver  I.,ake,  and,  so  far  as  I  know,  to  be 
found  in  Pennsylvania  only  in  this  and  another  lake,  about 
three  miles  from  it.  I  believe  this  species  has  not  been  de- 
scribed in  any  work  on  Ichthyology.  It  is  not  among  the 
sixty -two  varieties  of  Salmo,  described  by  Shaw.  Le  Sieur 
knew  it  not.  But  as  I  think  that  the  conductors  of  "  The 
Cabinet  of  Rural  Sports"  do  not  desire  to  load  their  work 
with  names  in  "heathen  Greek,"  nor  care  about  the  differ- 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


ence  between  a  malacoterj'gian  and  an  acanthopterian;  nor 
between  the  chondropterygian  and  the  branchrostegous,  I 
shall  say  nothing  on  that  subject.  The  drawing  will  de- 
scribe the  species  very  exactly.  You  know  its  habitat, 
and  can  say  that  this  fine  variety  of  the  finest  genus  of  fishes, 
lives  in  a  lake  of  pure  water,  where  it  may,  at  its  discretion, 
vary  the  temperature  from  that  which  is  found  near  the 
surface,  affected  by  the  sun's  rays,  to  that  at  an  hundred 
feet  depth,  where,  throughout  the  year,  Fahrenheit's  ther- 
mometer remains  at  46*^ 

Do  you  remember  our  letting  a  black  bottle  down  with  a 
line  to  the  greatest  depth  of  the  lake,  in  order  to  ascertain 
the  temperature  there,  and  after  bringing  it  up  full — the 
pressure  of  the  water  having  forced  in  the  cork,  which  we 
had  left  in  the  bottle  as  we  found  it — our  discussion  as  to 
what  could  have  given  the  water  at  the  bottom  its  singular 
taste  and  deep  colour;  and  conjecturing  that  at  the  depth  to 
which  the  bottle  had  been  sunk,  there  must  be  some  pecu- 
liar kind  of  aquatic  plant — unknown,  undisturbed,  a  treasure 
for  the  botanist,  if  it  could  be  got  at — which  had  given  to 
the  contents  of  the  bottle  its  strange  taste  and  hue? — and  on 
our  taking  the  bottle  to  the  house,  to  get  others  to  form 
their  conjectures  on  a  subject  so  important  to  science,  our 
being  asked  where  we  had  got  the  bottle,  and  whether  be- 
fore letting  it  down,  we  had  poured  out  the  wine  that  was 
in  it?  But  to  return  to  our  Trout:  Ask  Dr.  D.  what  he 
would  give  to  hook  and  land  safely,  a  trout  twenty-four  and 
a  half  inches  long  and  six  pounds  weight.  This  beats  yours; 
the  largest  you  caught  weighed  only  four  pounds  and  three 
quarters,  and  measured  twenty-three  inches.  Don't  dis- 
pute this;  for  the.  weight  and  measure  were  all  correctly 
"booked  down." 

You  know  that  in  the  outlet,  or  stream  from  the  lake, 
none  of  the  lake  trout  were  ever  found;  and  that  in  the 
lake  we  have  never  seen  but  one  of  the  creek  trout,  and  that 
was  an  uncommonly  large  one.  In  other  lakes,  and  there 
are  many  small  ones  in  this  county,  where  there  are  none  of 
the  lake  trout,  the  red-spotted  trout  of  the  streams,  or  salmo 
fontinalis,  is  the  common  and  only  one.  That  the  two 
may  be  compared,  they  are  both  shown  on  the  paper  which 
is  enclosed.  The  lake  trout  is  longer,  more  slender,  and 
has  a  forked  tail.  You  know  that  this  trout  will  not  rise  at 
a  fly,  like  the  common  trout  of  the  streams;  and  that  it  is 
caught  only  with  small  fish  as  bait.  The  two  kinds  differ 
much  in  size;  the  lake  trout  is  seldom  caught  so  small  as 
one  pound  weight,  the  creek  trout  seldom  so  large.  I  have 
been  frequently  puzzled  to  imagine  where  the  small  lake 
trout  keep  themselves.  One  of  your  citizens,  whose  ideas 
of  rivers  were  probably  formed  from  the  Delaware  at  Phi- 
ladelphia, when  he  saw  the  Susquehanna  at  Wilkesbarre,  ex- 
pressed his  surprise  that  a  river  could  be  so  little.  From 
the  description  given  to  me  of  the  trout  in  the  lakes  north 


of  this,  in  the  states  of  New  York,  Vermont,  &c.,  I  think 
they  are  of  the  same  species  as  those  in  Silver  Lake;  but  I 
believe  the  latter  to  be  their  southern  limit. 

I  have  not  observed  the  colours  of  the  lake  trout  to  vary 
at  different  times  of  the  year;  but  the  colours  of  the  male  of 
the  red-spotted  trout  change  very  much,  and  are  deeper  and 
much  more  brilliant  at  one  season  than  at  another;  like  the 
males  of  most  kinds  of  birds,  whose  feathers  become  gayer 
at  the  time  of  courtship;  so  Ihat  the  honeymoon  garb  of 
some  of  them,  makes  them  look  like  different  birds  from 
what  they  are  the  rest  of  the  year.  So  it  is  with  the  creek 
trout,  of  which  the  drawing  represents  one  in  his  Septem- 
ber dress,  his  back  of  a  rich  olive,  lighter  on  the  sides, 
sprinkled  with  brilliant  spots  of  vermilion,  and  his  fins 
tinted  with  vermilion,  a  rich  black,  and  a  pure  white.  You 
have  seen  a  dying  dolphin — not  the  dolphin  of  the  ichthy- 
ologists— the  porpus  or  delphinus  tergo  recurvo,  which  the 
ancient  writers  say  was  so  fond  of  music,  and  (fide  majus!) 
carried  Arion  when  he  was  cast,  like  a  bait,  upon  the  waters; 
but  the  dolphin  of  the  sailors,  the  coryphcena  hipjmris — 
and  therefore  you  know  how  suddenly  and  how  surprisingly 
the  colours  of  a  fish  may  be  changed. 

Old  Walton  says,  that  "in  England  trout  spawn  about 
October  or  November;  but  in  some  rivers  a  little  sooner  or 
later."  Their  spawning  time  here  is  much  the  same.  How 
I  admired  old  Walton  when  I  was  a  boy !  I  believe  I  have 
read  every  thing  which  has  been  published  on  the  "  dis- 
portes  in  fishynge,"  from  his  celebrated  work  down  to  the 
"New,  Plain,  and  Complete  Treatise  on  the  Art  of  Ang- 
ling, by  T.  F.  Salter,  Esq.,"  adorned  with  a  plate  of  the 
author,  but  terribly  out  of  costume  for  a  fisherman — publish- 
ed in  1825,  which  you  sent  me  about  two  years  ago.  I 
have  even  read  the  Nautical  Idylls  of  Hugo  Grotius,  and 
the  Piscatory  Eclogues  of  Sannazarius,  in  hopes  of  glean- 
ing something  from  them,  which  might  be  useful  to  the 
"brothers  of  the  angle:"  but  the  latter  was  much  like  a  ce- 
lebrated breeder  of  cattle  sending  for  Miss  Edgeworth's 
Treatise  on  Irish  Bulls. 

I  think  I  was  about  twelve  years  of  age,  when  I  first  read 
old  Isaac's  treatise,  "  being,"  as  he  says  in  his  title  page, 
"a  Discourse  of  Fish  and  Fishing,  not  unworthy  the  peru- 
sal of  most  Anglers;"  and  I  have  never  forgot  some  stanzas 
of  his  Angler's  song,  particularly  the  one: 


'■  When  I  the  thoughllesss  trout  esp 
Devour  my  worm,  or  simple  fly, 
How  poor,  how  small  a  thing  I  find 
Can  captivate  a  greedy  mind ! 
But  when  none  bite,  the  wise  I  prai: 
Whom  hope  of  profit  ne'er  betrays. 


That  is,  I  admired  the  poetic  fisherman;  but  fear  I  never 
learnt  any  thing  from  the  fishing  moralist;  and  when  the 


148 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


trout  did  not  bite,  I,  as  a  boy  might  be  supposed  to  do,  at- 
tributed the  faihire,  not  to  the  philosophy  of  the  fish,  but  to 
their  want  of  appetite. 

I  love  fly-fishing;  because  it  is  fishing  divested  of  much  of 
its  barbarity.  I  mean,  of  course,  the  ar^^j^CiV// fly.  It  is  all 
very  fair  to  catch  a  voracious  fish,  while  he  is  endeavouring  to 
gobble  up  what  he  supposes  a  nice  little  fly.  I  always  disliked 
to  use  live  bait,  and  never  did  when  I  could  avoid  it.  Walton 
had  many  kind  feelings,  and  in  instructing  you  how  to  impale 
a  frog  in  such  a  manner  as  to  keep  the  poor  devil  alive  as  long 
as  possible,  he  pathetically  urges  it  upon  j'ou  to  "use  him  as 
though  you  loved  himf  for  which  affectionate  admonition 
he  has  been  sneered  at  most  unmercifully  by  half  a  dozen  peo- 
ple, who  although  they  may  be  very  accomplished  writers, 
are  no  fishermen.  But  in  my  early  fishing  daj-s,  I  learnt  more 
humanity  from  Thomson  than  from  any  other  person,  and 
for  a  long  time,  whenever  I  thought  of  going  a  fishing,  I 
had  humming  in  my  ears: 

'*  But  let  not  on  your  hook  the  tortured  worm, 
Convulsive,  twist  in  agonizing  folds  j 
Which  by  rapacious  hunger  swalluwed  deep, 
Gives,  as  you  tear  it  from  the  bleeding  breast 
Of  the  weak,  harmless,  uncomplaining  wretch. 
Harsh  pain  and  horror  to  the  tender  hand." 

These  lines  saved  many  a  worm.  It  was  Thomson,  I 
think,  who,  some  lady  said,  showed  plainly  in  his  works, 
that  he  was  a  great  fisherman  and  a  great  swimmer;  but 
who,  notwithstanding  the  lady's  sagacity,  and  I  must  say 
that  she  drew  a  very  fair  inference,  judging  from  his  works, 
never  took  a  fishing  rod  in  his  hand,  and  never  went  into 
the  water.  Thomson's  worm  puts  me  in  mind  of  a  time 
when  I  was  trying  to  entice  into  my  pouch  some  Trout  from 
the  Choconut  creek — You  have  been  there  with  me — They 
were  shy,  and  I  thought  I  would  try  some  other  bait,  and 
searching  around  I  found  a  worm.  My  head  had  been 
running  on  mixed  mathematics,  and  the  doctrine  of 
chances — a  foolish  thing  to  puzzle  one's  self  with  when  fish- 
ing. As  I  sauntered  along,  I  had  been  proving  to  myself 
that  the  probability  of  two  subsequent  events,  both  happen- 
ing, is  equal  to  the  product  of  the  probability  of  the  hap- 
pening of  those  events,  considered  separately.  Q.  E.  D. 
And  had  demonstrated  the  thing  in  my  head  most  scholas- 
tically,  when  I  said  to  myself, — Here  is  this  poor  worm. 
What  was  the  chance  that  in  the  immense  extent  of  this 
globe,  it  should  be  here,  in  this  spot;  and  in  the  great 
lapse  of  time  since  the  formation  of  worms,  that  this  very 
one  should  have  existed  at  all;  and  if  existing,  been  here, 
at  this  point  of  time;  and  that  I — the  individual  / — 
should  be  here  now,  of  all  times;  and  be  here  in  this  spot 
in  all  space,  for  the  purpose  of  catching  a  Trout.  That  be- 
ing here,  at  this  time,  of  all  times  past,  present,  and  to 


come,  /  should  have  found  this  worm,  of  all  the  worms  of 
the  earth,  and  should  put  it  on  this  hook,  among  the  trillions 
of  hooks,  to  catch  a  particular  trout,  in  this  particular  creek, 
of  all  the  creeks  in  the  world.  And  yet  that  chance  has 
become  a  certainty!  Prove  me  that,  Mr.  De  Moivre! 
Poh!  poh!  'tis  all  a  folly,  and  it  shan't  happen;  and  you 
shan't  be  put  upon  this  hook,  nor  be  eaten  by  that  trout, 
poor  little  worm.  There,  go  off  with  you — wriggle  away 
as  fast  as  you  can,  and  thank  the  doctrine  of  chances  for 
your  escape;  and  I'll  bother  myself  no  more  with  them:  I 
dare  say  it  was  they  that  made  me  lose  that  last  trout. 

What  fishing  may  be  compared  with  fly-fishing  for  trout, 
in  a  fine,  clear,  spring  brook,  overarched  by  spreading 
beeches,  birches,  and  elms! — the  day  so  warm  as  to  give  a 
pleasing  consciousness  of  the  protection  derived  from  the 
majestic  trees — the  water  so  clear  as  to  tempt  you  from  the 
bank  to  walk  into  the  stream,  that  runs  dancing  over  stones 
and  pebbles,  or  whirling  around  rocks,  as  if  for  the  purpose 
of  forming  lurking  places  for  the  trout.  You  throw  your 
fly,  and  they  see  it  in  its  light  descent,  and  dart  at  it;  but 
one,  more  alert  than  his  fellows,  springs  out  of  the  water 
and  seizes  it,  before  it  reaches  the  surface!  I  am  sure,  my 
dear  E.,  that  you  will  always  recollect  that  fishing  when 
we  caught  thirty-six  dozens,  (or  was  it  it  thirty-five  and  a 
half?  I  always  said  that;  but  you  contended  that  it  was 
thirty-six,)  and  the  boy  who  attended  with  the  horse  and 
panniers,  could  scarcely  put  them  away,  wrapped  up  in  the 
fresh  green  leaves,  as  fast  as  we  caught  them.  Do  you  re- 
collect the  pool,  where  I  stood  over  my  knees  in  the  water, 
and  from  one  place,  caught  my  fishing-l)ag  full  three  times 
over — the  boy  being  called  that  often  to  empty  it  ?  When, 
as  the  fly  was  descending,  we  could  see  trout  dashing  from 
difierent  parts  of  the  clear  water,  to  the  point  where  it  was 
expected  to  fall,  and  the  surface  would  be  thrown  into 
ebullition  by  the  struggle  among  them  to  see  who  should 
be  the  fortunate  fellow  to  seize  it?  Do  you  recollect  what 
a  delicious  hmch  we  made  that  day,  about  twelve  o'clock, 
you  may  call  it  a  dejeuner  a-la-fourchette,  if  you  please 
— having  been  walking  in  the  stream,  the  forest  all  the 
way  overhead,  from  sunrise — how  we  sat  on  the  bank,  sub 
tegmine  fagi,  with  our  feet  in  the  water,  and  how  often  you 
exclaimed,  "  How  delightful  this  is!"  Do  you  remember 
how  the  pellucid  stream  put  us  in  mind  of  Professor 
Carlyle's  translation  from  the  Arabic  poet,  in  lines  which 
might  be  supposed  to  describe  the  limpid  rivulet  before 


"  So  smooth  the  pebbles  on  its  shore. 

That  not  a  maid  can  thither  stray, 
But  counts  her  strings  of  jewels  o'er, 

And  thinks  the  pearls  have  slipped  away." 

Do  you  recollect,  as  we  lay  thrown  back  upon  the  grass, 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


149 


my  story  of  my  friend  H.  D.  ?  the  best  of  all  men,  although 
not  the  best  of  fishermen,  who  was  out  with  me  on  the  same 
stream,  and  near  the  same  place,  one  time  when  I  caught 
twenty  dozens,  and  he  two  fish  less  than  one  dozen;  that 
wondering  what  had  become  of  him,  I  sat  down  on  the 
bank  to  wait  for  him,  and  at  length  saw  him  coming  to- 
wards me,  very  slowly,  walking  in  the  middle  of  the 
stream,  his  spectacles — near-sighted — enabling  him  to 
choose  the  deepest  parts  of  it,  his  line  rolled  round  his  rod, 
and  his  rod  on  his  shoulder.  He  would  have  passed  with- 
out seeing  me,  and  when  I  said,  "  Why  H.,  what  are  you 
about?  Are  you  tired  of  fishing?"  "Oh,  no!"  he  re- 
plied, "not  at  all — I  am  delighted  with  it:  but  this  is  the 
best  part  of  it.  I  don't  care  about  the  Trout:  you  can  catch 
enough  for  both  of  us." 

Do  you  remember  another  story  I  told  you,  of  another 
person,  who  accompanied  me  to  catch  Trout  ?  After  miss- 
ing him  for  a  long  time,  I  heard  him  call  at  the  full  extent 
of  his  lungs,  "I  have  caught  one!  I  have  caught  one!!" — 
and  looking  up  the  stream,  I  saw  him  holding  his  rod  out  in 
triumph,  with  something  dangling  at  the  end  of  his  line. 
Observing  my  attention,  he  cried,  "  What  shall  I  do  with 
it  ?  Shall  I  kill  it  before  I  take  it  ofi"?"  And  when,  in  his 
exultation,  he  came  down  to  me  with  it,  holding  his  rod  at 
arm's  length  before  him,  I  found  his  captive  to  be  a  misera- 
ble chub,  about  as  long  as  his  finger!  A  Dr.  Battius  of  a 
fish! — Plague  on  Dr.  Bat!  having  spoken  of  him,  I  can't 
get  rid  of  the  vagabond.  You  know  we  never  caught  chub 
— never  sufiered  them  to  bite. 

Do  you  remember  what  a  supper  we  made  on  Trout,  that 
night,  at  our  bivouac  ?  What  exquisite  sauce  our  day's 
fishing  had  provided  for  us?  How  delightfully  our  cook 
dressed  the  fish?  How  many  you  eat? — we  always  chose 
the  small  ones,  not  more  than  six  or  seven  inches  long — 
How  thirsty  you  were  when  you  awoke,  sometime  after 
midnight,  from  your  bed  of  fragrant  boughs?  How  horror- 
struck,  when,  half-dead  with  thirst,  you  found  that  there 
was  no  water  in  the  tent?  How  your  impatience  would 
not  let  you  wait  until  our  cook  could  be  roused  to  bring 
water  from  the  spring?  How  you  went  yourself,  in  the 
dark,  over  logs  and  through  bushes,  down  to  the  stream? 
And  how  you  kept  me  awake  the  rest  of  the  night,  with 
your  groans  of  tribulation  and  repentance  at  having  drank  so 
much  cold  water?  And  do  you  also  remember,  that,  after- 
wards, during  your  rambles  in  Europe,  when  visiting  the 
classic  ground  of  Petrarch,  you  wrote  to  me  that  much  as 
the  Trout  of  Vaucluse  were  famed,  you  could  say — for  you 
had  just  had  one  for  your  dinner — that  they  were  not  to  be 
compared,  by  a  thousand  degrees,  to  the  Trout  of  Silver 
Lake? 

And  there  you  are,  in  Philadelphia,  you  who  can  recol- 
lect all  this,  plodding  away  at  your  profession!  Well,  I 
Pp 


won't  check  you.  Go  on,  and  prosper!  Only  consider  it 
your  duty,  during  the  warm  weather  of  every  year,  to  come 
up  to  our  hills,  and  taking  a  little  "  idle  time  not  idly 
spent,"  lay  in  a  stock  of  health  by  breathing  our  pure  air, 
and  bathing  in  our  clear  streams.  R.  H.   R. 


AN   INQUIRY    RESPECTING    THE    TRUE 
NATURE    OF    INSTINCT. 

(Concluded  from  page  101.) 

If  brutes  then  are  incapable  of  viewing  moral  qualities 
objectivel}',  and  reflecting  upon  them  as  such,  they  must  ne- 
cessarily be  destitute  of  that  perception  of  moral  differ- 
ences, with  which  the  power  of  exercising  their  moral  saga- 
city must  be  connected;  moral  sagacity,  therefore,  cannot 
exist  at  all  in  them  otherwise  than  apparently  ;  and  this 
conclusion  is  exactly  what  a  candid  estimation  of  brute 
powers  seems  to  lead  to;  namely,  that  they  are  actuated  by 
moral  energies  of  which  they  are  not  conscious,  and  which 
therefore  are  not  properly  theirs;  and  that  these  energies 
operating  upon  their  proper  conscious  perceptions — which 
may  be  termed  natural  perceptions,  to  distinguish  them 
from  those  which  are  moral  and  intellectual, — furnish 
the  motive  principles  which  serve  to  induce  them  to  apply 
their  conscious  powers  in  a  certain  manner; — thus  produc- 
ing what  is  apparently  moral  in  them,  without  their  being 
conscious  that  it  is  so,  and  which  thus  is  really  not  so  as  to 
them.  The  seat  of  these  moral  energies  within  them,  there- 
fore, appears  to  be  a  secret  region  in  their  minds,  above 
the  seat  of  their  natural  perceptions;  the  latter  serving  as  a 
plane,  as  it  were,  for  the  operation  of  such  superior  powers, 
which,  under  the  Divine  control,  dispose  them  to  the  fulfil- 
ment of  the  ends  they  are  designed  for. 

In  this  manner  it  is  possible  to  account  for  those  surpris- 
ing appearances  of  moral  excellence  in  the  actions  of  ani- 
mals, which  we  observe  them  to  display,  and  which  are  so 
totally  above  their  proper  conscious  powers: — a  moral  excel- 
lence, which,  as  we  have  seen,  appears  in  many  instances 
more  perfect  and  undeviating  than  that  of  the  generality  of 
human  agents,  and  which,  therefore,  cannot  be  the  result  of 
any  conscious  freedom  in  the  creature,  unless  we  suppose 
them,  in  particular  instances,  raised  higher  in  moral  per- 
ception and  determination  than  even  man  himself.  It  is 
by  confounding  the  limited  freedom  of  brute  action  with 
the  superior  energies,  which,  unknown  to  them,  actuate 
their  conscious  powers,  that  their  nature  has  been  so  far  mis- 
taken, as  to  be  considered  the  same  in  kind  with,  and  only 
differing  in  degree  from,  that  of  man. 

Herein  then  consists  one  proper  limitation  of  the  brute 
mind : — although  apparently  moral,  it  is  in  reality  not  so,  but 
merely  natural,  and  is  operated  upon  by  moral  causes  above 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


its  own  consciousness,  and  which  lead  it  to  the  perform- 
ance of  actions  which,  in  effect,  are  moral,  as  considered 
objectively  by  the  human  mind. 

From  a  comparison  of  this  view  of  the  nature  of  the  con- 
sciousness of  animals  with  that  of  man,  the  latter  agent  alone 
appears  capable  of  considering  and  appreciating  the  nature 
of  his  own  actions,  and  those  of  the  inferior  creation ;  he 
alone  is  conscious  of  moral,  intellectual,  and  scientific  ener- 
gies and  perceptions;  and  being,  in  consequence  of  this 
moral  and  intellectual  faculty,  at  liberty  to  estimate  and 
direct  all  lower  operations,  is  in  moral  and  intellectual,  as 
well  as  in  natural  freedom;  whereas  the  brute  is  in  the  latter 
only.  From  the  most  dispassionate  survey  of  brute  nature, 
it  does  not  appear  that  the  creatures  have  any  reflex  percep- 
tion respecting  the  qualities  of  their  own  discernment,  or  of 
the  moral  energies,  or  scientific  powers,  which  they  dis- 
play: on  the  contrary,  it  appears  sufficiently  evident  that 
\vith  respect  to  any  perception  of  their  own  qualities  in  the 
abstract,  tlie  wisest  is  no  wiser  than  the  dullest,  and  the  dull- 
est is  equally  wise  with  the  wisest;  the  most  moral  as  little 
so  as  the  least,  and  vice  versa:  the  Peacock  has  no  more 
perception  of  the  pride  he  is  famed  for,  than  the  Horse  or 
the  Lion  have  of  their  generosity;  than  the  Fox  has  of  his 
cunning,  or  the  Tiger  of  his  cruelty. 

From  these  considerations,  there  is  in  appearance  the 
strongest  probability  that  the  moral  world,  good  and  evil, 
may  be  in  action  upon,  although  above  the  stream  of,  the 
natural  world,  or  above  the  consciousness  of  lower  exist- 
ence; and  that  the  former  may  thus  operate  upon  the  latter 
as  a  cause  upon  an  effect.  But  be  this  as  it  may,  it  appears 
certain,  that  moral  qualities  being  objective  in  the  mind  of 
man,  he  alone  is  possessed  of  moral  consciousness  and  moral 
freedom  of  action;  thus  is  an  inhabitant  of  both  the  moral 
and  the  natural  world ;  and  that  as  moral  qualities  do  not 
become  objective  in  the  minds  of  brutes,  or  as  the  moral 
actions  which  they  perform  are  not  reflected  upon  by  them, 
as  such,  nor  are,  in  any  respect  the  effects  of  moral  choice 
and  discrimination  on  their  parts,  they  are  therefore  not 
possessed  of  moral  consciousness,  nor  of  moral  freedom  of 
action;  and  thus  are  not  inhabitants  of  the  moral  world, — 
although  acted  upon  by  it, — but  of  the  natural  world  only. 

Having  thus  concluded  my  preliminary  remarks  on  the 
moral  qualities  exhibited  by  brutes,  I  proceed  to  consider 
those  which  are  of  an  intellectual  and  scientific  character, — 
to  the  illustration,  consequently,  of  the  second  proposition 
given  in  a  former  page.  As  moral  perception  appears  to  be 
excluded  from  the  conscious  sphere  of  the  brute  mind,  so 
neither  do  brutes  appear  to  possess  any  reflex  power  of  con- 
templating the  principles  of  intelligence  and  science  by 
which,  or  rather  according  to  which,  they  act.  They 
appear  to  possess  no  power  of  taking  an  intellectual  recog- 
nizance of  this  intelligence  and  science  so  remarkable  in 


many  of  their  actions;  and  may  be  considered  as  possessing 
only  an  inferior,  or  what  may  be  called  animal  mind,  capa- 
ble of  being  influenced  or  directed,  but  incapable  of  viewing 
or  appreciating  the  powers  or  energies  which  thus  influ- 
ence and  direct  it  in  the  most  essential  of  its  actions.  Man 
is  endowed  with  the  love  of  science;  he,  therefore,  expe- 
riences a  delight  proper  to  his  nature  as  a  scientific  agent, 
from  the  contemplation  of  a  means  which  is  instrumental  in 
the  accomplishment  of  an  end:  he  is  also  gifted  with  the 
love  of  usefulness,  and  therefore  receives  a  moral  delight 
from  the  accomplishment  of  the  end  itself,  which  science  is 
the  means  of  effecting.  Not  so  the  brute : — the  architectural 
contrivance  and  discrimination  of  the  Beaver,  which  is  ne- 
vertheless much  inferior  to  that  of  various  species  of  Ter- 
mites;— the  surprising  intelligence  of  the  Hive-bee  and 
others  of  the  Apes; — the  ingenious  mechanism  of  the  Spi- 
der:— all  these  determinations  of  instinct,  which,  when 
viewed  in  connexion  with  the  animals  in  whom  they  are 
displayed,  are  so  astonishing,  form  no  objects  of  contem- 
plation to  them,  while  to  the  human  mind  they  are  the  sub- 
jects of  intellectual  perception  and  reflection,  advancing  in 
many  instances  even  to  sublimity. 

When  we  observe,  in  the  insect  world,  in  beings  appa- 
rently the  most  insignificant,  an  intelligence  the  most  per- 
fect, presenting  the  most  wonderful  foresight,  provision, 
and  design,  we  are  led  at  once  to  the  recognition  of  this 
intelligence,  as  a  principle  which  cannot,  with  any  degree 
of  propriety,  be  attributed  to  the  creature,  as  properly  its 
own;  and  we  perceive,  that  in  these  instances,  thus  to  attri- 
bute it  to  those  humble  animals,  would  be  to  raise  them  to 
an  eminence  far  above  the  most  sagacious  quadrupeds. 

Innumerable  are  the  instances  among  insects,  in  which 
the  agency  of  intellectual  and  scientific  powers,  altogether 
superior  to  the  proper  consciousness  of  the  creatures  is  to 
be  observed;  and  it  may  be  remarked,  that  as  we  descend 
in  the  scale  of  sentient  being,  this  intellectual  agency  ap- 
pears to  develop  itself  in  a  manner  proportionably  more 
wonderful ;  so  as  to  afford  the  most  substantial  evidences  of 
the  reality  of  its  existence  and  operation. 

That  Bees  exercise  the  principles  of  a  science,  of  which 
they  are  wholly  unconscious,  is  beautifully  exemplified  in 
the  construction  of  their  cells;  the  general  form  of  these,  it 
is  well  known,  is  that  which  includes  a  greater  space  than 
any  other  which  could  be  given  to  them,  without  leaving  a 
void  space  between  the  contiguous  cells;  each  of  which, 
from  this  circumstance,  supplies  one  of  the  walls  of  each  of 
the  six  cells  which  surround  it.  But  "  it  is  to  be  remarked, 
that  though  the  general  form  of  the  cells  is  hexagonal,  that 
of  those  first  begun  is  pentagonal,  the  side  next  the  top  of 
the  hive,  and  by  which  the  comb  is  attached,  being  much 
broader  than  the  rest;  whence  the  comb  is  more  strongly 
united  to  the  hive  than  if  these  cells  were  of  the  ordinary 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


shape.  It  of  course  follows,  that  the  base  of  these  cells,  in- 
stead of  being  formed  like  those  of  the  hexagonal  cells  of 
three  rhomboids,  consists  of  one  rhomboid  and  two  trape- 
ziums. 

Here  then  are  effects  both  of  geometry  and  philosophy,  al- 
though the  creatures  are  neither  geometricians  nor  philoso- 
phers. They  indeed  act  precisely  as  geometricians  and 
philosophers  would  act,  were  they  to  undertake  construct- 
ing the  same  thing  with  the  same  end  in  view.  Neither 
can  we  conceive  them  in  their  process  of  collecting  honey 
and  storing  it  up,  as  actuated  by  any  reflection  upon  the  na- 
ture of  the  act;  or  as  contemplating  a  season  of  winter  when 
their  labours  must  cease.  Actuated  by  an  impressing  influ- 
ence to  gather  and  store  up,  and  led  to  the  immediate 
means  and  to  the  best  mode  of  applying  them,  their  con- 
sciousness, although  it  reaches  to  and  embraces  the  whole 
of  the  sensible  detail  of  the  operations  to  which  it  is  direct- 
ed, and  includes  a  gratification  resulting  from  the  exercise 
of  its  inferior  powers,  reaches  no  further:  their  conscious 
world  consists  of  the  sensible  images  of  flowers,  and  fields, 
and  combs,  and  honey;  in  these,  as  to  themselves,  "they 
live,  and  move,  and  have  their  being:" — they  advance  no 
higher; — they  know  nothing  of  a  regular  hexagon,  separate 
from  a  honey  comb,  nor  can  they  reason  upon  the  conse- 
quences of  their  actions. 

Reason,  intelligence,  and  science,  therefore,  cannot,  as 
is  asserted  by  some  philosophers,  be  the  result  of  instinct; 
or  the  Bee  would  certainly  be  a  reasoner:  it  must  be  evident, 
on  the  contrary,  that  its  consciousness  can  reach  only  to  the 
immediate  inferior  acts  themselves,  to  which  it  is  directed 
by  a  potent  energy  operating  upon  its  nature. 

Exercising  in  voluntar}'  consciousness  the  inferior  powers 
just  mentioned,  the  animal  is  led  and  informed  by  an  influ- 
ence, impressing  its  conscious  mind,  and  producing  the 
effects  of  the  most  perfect  science;  thereby  accomplishing 
those  objects  which  constitute  the  ends  of  its  existence.  No 
effect  can  be  produced  without  a  cause,  and  the  Bee  is 
either  a  scientific  and  intellectual  being,  or  it  is  the  instru- 
ment of  an  agency  that  is  of  such  a  quality,  operating  in  and 
upon  its  animal  mind,  in  a  sphere  above  its  proper  percep- 
tion. 

Other  less  familiar,  but  not  less  wonderful  instances  of 
the  mechanical  and  even  philosophical  powers  exerted  in 
the  actions  of  insects,  are  exhibited  to  us  in  whatever  quar- 
ter we  contemplate  their  economy.  The  larva  of  a  small 
Moth,  (P.  Tinea  serratella  L.)  constructs  a  little  cylin- 
drical tower  for  its  residence  upon  the  surface  of  a  leaf,  and 
uses  the  utmost  ingenuity  to  fix  and  retain  it  in  a  position 
perpendicular  to  the  site,  by  attaching  silken  threads  from  a 
protuberance  at  its  base  to  the  surrounding  surface;  and 
when  the  stability  of  its  habitation  is  threatened  by  exter- 
nal violence,  it  produces  a  vacuum  by  drawing  itself  up  to 


the  summit  of  its  tower,  which  at  other  times  it  completely 
fills;  "  and  thus  as  effectually  fastens  it  to  the  leaf  as  if  an 
air-pump  had  been  employed;"  and  in  order  to  preserve 
the  power  of  forming  this  vacuum,  the  insect  never  eats 
through  the  lower  epidermis,  or  inferior  surface  of  his  es- 
planade on  the  leaf: — yet  so  insignificant  is  this  little  crea- 
ture as  to  its  bulk,  that  its  castle  appears  like  a  small  spine 
on  the  leaf  to  which  it  is  attached. 

Equally  curious  is  the  history  of  insect  architecture  in 
other  instances,  as  in  the  Aquatic  Spider,  (Aranea  aqua- 
tica,)  whose  habitation  "  is  built  in  the  midst  of  water,  and 
formed,  in  fact,  of  air!"  This  creature  spins  a  frame-work 
for  her  intended  chamber,  which  she  attaches  to  the  leaves 
of  aquatic  plants  growing  at  the  bottom  of  the  water,  and 
having  spread  over  the  threads  which  form  this  frame-work 
a  transparent  varnish  resembling  liquid  glass,  and  very  elas- 
tic, she  next  spreads  over  her  belly  a  pellicle  of  the  same 
material,  and  ascending  to  the  surface  of  the  water,  by  some 
means  not  fully  ascertained,  transfers  a  bubble  of  air  be- 
neath this  pellicle,  and  then  descending  to  her  structure, 
discharges  the  bubble  into  it,  until,  by  successively  repeat- 
ing the  operation,  she  effects  the  expansion  of  her  aerial 
sub-aquatic  tenement  to  its  proper  habitable  dimensions. 

The  entire  history,  indeed,  of  the  various  species  of  the 
Spider  and  of  the  Bee  teems  with  wonders,  and  supplies  an 
ample  stock  of  evidence  in  support  of  the  proposition,  that 
they  are  guided  and  instructed  by  an  intelligence  which 
they  do  not  themselves  perceive.  But  as  their  history  may 
be  seen  at  large  in  the  excellent  work  on  Entomology  from 
which  our  illustrations  from  that  science  have  hitherto  been 
derived,  I  forbear  to  swell  the  catalogue;  and  shall  con- 
clude this  branch  of  the  subject,  by  adducing  from  the  same 
work,  two  remarkable  instances,  exemplifying,  in  the  larva 
of  a  species  of  Myrmeleon,  and  in  the  Termes  fatalis, 
the  most  extraordinary  and  surprising  operations,  totally 
incompatible  with  any  conscious  scientific  ability  of  the 
creatures;  appending  to  these  some  remarks  on  the  infe- 
rences drawn  by  Messrs.  Kirby  and  Spence,  from  a  singu- 
lar case  of  instinct,  adapted  to  contingency  in  the  Humble- 
Bee. 

The  first-mentioned  insect,  whose  length,  when  full- 
grown,  is  about  half  an  inch,  and  whose  shape  slightly  resem- 
bles that  of  the  Wood-louse,  is  an  inhabitant  of  the  south 
of  Europe,  feeds  upon  the  juices  of  Ants  and  other  insects, 
digging  a  conical  hole  or  pit  for  the  purpose  of  entrapping 
them.  This  it  effects  by  tracing  a  circle  in  a  soil  of  loose, 
dry  sand,  and  excavating  with  surprising  dexterity,  a  furrow 
within  the  included  space;  loading  its  flat  head  by  means 
of  one  leg,  with  a  portion  of  the  sand,  which  it  jerks  adroitly 
over  the  boundary;  and  working  backwards  till  it  arrives 
at  the  part  of  the  circle  whence  it  started;  it  then  traces  a 
new  circle  and  proceeds  with  the  work,  constantly  throw- 


152 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


ing  the  sand  from  the  interior,  till  it  completes  its  pit  to  the 
bottom  or  apex.  It  is  indefatigable  in  its  labours,  and  re- 
lieves the  leg  which  it  uses  as  a  shovel  to  load  its  head,  by- 
working  through  each  successive  circle  in  an  opposite  direc- 
tion, and  thus  exercising  each  leg  alternately,  always  work- 
ing with  the  one  next  the  centre.  When  it  meets  with 
stones  too  large  to  be  jerked  from  its  head,  it  contrives  to 
get  them  poised  upon  its  back,  and  if  in  ascending  the  sides 
of  the  pit,  the  stone  should  be  again  precipitated,  in  renew- 
ing its  attempt  to  carry  it  up,  it  avails  itself  of  the  channel 
made  by  the  falling  stone,  as  a  road,  against  the  sides  of 
which  it  can  support  and  direct  its  load  in  the  ascent.  Sta- 
tioned at  the  bottom  of  its  little  pit,  if  an  Ant  should  stum- 
ble over  the  margin  it  hastens  the  descent  and  capture  of  its 
prey  by  the  fall  of  little  loads  of  sand  which  it  jerks  in 
quick  succession  upon  the  escaping  insect.  All  this  how- 
ever is  surpassed  by  the  Termites,  whose  nests  are  formed 
of  clay,  and  are  as  large  as  huts,  being  generally  of  no  less 
a  height  than  twelve  feet,  and  broad  in  proportion,  and 
which  when  in  clusters  resemble  an  Indian  village,  and  may 
at  a  distance  be  mistaken  for  one.  The  interior  of  one  of 
these  structures  presents  a  most  surprising  skill  and  intelli- 
gence, both  in  the  construction  and  appropriation.  The 
apartments,  avenues,  and  communications,  consisting  of 
vaulted  chambers,  built  of  various  materials,  galleries  con- 
structed spirally  for  the  facility  of  ascent,  arches  or  bridges 
of  communication,  said  to  be  projected,  not  excavated,  are 
appropriated  for  royal  and  other  apartments,  nurseries, 
magazines,  &c.  No  one  can  surely  contemplate  the  gigan- 
tic, and  at  the  same  time  scientific,  operations  of  these  won- 
derful creatures, — which  j^et  are  scarcely  the  fourth  of  an 
inch  in  length, — without  feeling  struck  by  the  manifesta- 
tion of  an  agency  far  above  the  discrimination  of  the  sub- 
jects in  whose  actions  it  is  presented,  and  whose  economy 
is  justly  characterized  as  "a  miracle  of  nature." 

But  the  operations  of  an  intelligence  in  the  conduct  of  the 
insect  race,  superior  to  the  conscious  faculties  of  the  creature, 
is  made  still  more  manifest  by  its  appearance  not  only  in 
what  has  been  called  blind  instinct, — which  term  itself, 
rightly  interpreted,  must  imply  the  existence  of  controlling 
influences, — but  also  by  its  development  in  strictly  contin- 
gent acts,  affording  evidences  of  the  same  intelligent  de- 
sign and  adaptation,  in  agreement  with  what  such  particular 
circumstances  require.  That  such  do  really  occur,  the  fol- 
lowing extract  will  satisfactorily  demonstrate: 

"  In  the  course  of  his  ingenious  and  numerous  experi- 
ments, M.  Huber  put  under  a  bell  glass  about  a  dozen  Hum- 
ble-Bees,  without  any  store  of  wax,  along  with  a  comb  of  about 
ten  silken  cocoons,  so  unequal  in  height,  that  it  was  impossi- 
ble the  mass  should  stand  firmly.  Its  unsteadiness  disquieted 
the  Humble-Bees  extremely.  Their  afiection  for  their 
young  led  them  to  mount  upon  the  cocoons,  for  the  sake  of 


imparting  warmth  to  the  inclosed  little  ones,  but,  in  attempt- 
ing this,  the  comb  tottered  so  violently,  that  the  scheme 
was  almost  impracticable.  To  remedy  this  inconvenience, 
and  to  make  the  comb  steady,  they  had  recourse  to  a  most 
ingenious  expedient.  Two  or  three  bees  got  upon  the 
comb,  stretched  themselves  over  its  edge,  and  with  their 
heads  downwards,  fixed  their  fore-feet  on  the  table  upon 
which  it  stood,  whilst  with  their  hind-feet  they  kept  it  from 
falling.  In  this  constrained  and  painful  posture,  fresh  bees 
relieving  their  comrades  when  weary,  did  these  affectionate 
little  insects  support  the  comb  for  nearly  three  days!  at  the 
end  of  this  period  they  had  prepared  a  sufiiciency  of  wax, 
with  which  they  built  pillars  that  kept  it  in  a  firm  position: 
but  by  some  accident  afterwards  these  got  displaced,  when 
they  had  again  recourse  to  their  former  manoeuvre  for  sup- 
plying their  place,  and  this  operation  they  perseveringly 
continued,  until  M.  Huber,  pitying  their  hard  case,  relieved 
them  by  fixing  the  object  of  their  attention  firmly  on  the 
table. 

"It  is  impossible,"  the  authors  remark,  "not  to  be 
struck  with  the  reflection  that  this  most  singular  fact  is  in- 
explicable on  the  supposition  that  insects  are  impelled  to 
their  operations  by  a  blind  instinct  alone.  How  could  mere 
machines  have  thus  provided  for  a  case,  which  in  a  state  of 
nature  has  probably  never  occurred  to  ten  nests  of  Humble- 
Bees  since  the  creation?  If,  in  this  instance,  these  little 
animals  were  not  guided  by  a  process  of  reasoning,  what  is 
the  distinction  between  reason  and  instinct?  How  could 
the  most  profound  architect  have  better  adapted  the  means 
to  the  end — how  more  dexterously  shored  up  a  tottering 
edifice,  until  his  beams  and  his  props  were  in  readiness  ?" 

A  process  of  reasoning,  or  intellectual  deduction,  is  here 
certainly  incontrovertible,  but  this,  at  the  same  time,  is  so 
much  beyond  the  nature  and  condition  of  the  creature,  that 
we  cannot  suppose  it  performed  within  its  proper  conscious- 
ness. What,  then,  in  this  case,  and  if  in  this  case,  in 
every  other,  is  the  distinction  between  reason  and  instinct? 
It  is,  I  apprehend,  this:  reason  is  a  deduction  of  intellect 
within  the  conscious  perception  of  the  subject  whose  actions 
exhibit  it: — instinct  is  a  similar  deduction  of  intellect,  not 
within,  but  above  the  conscious  perception  of  the  subject 
whose  actions  exhibit  it.  For  a  consciousness  of  possess- 
ing and  exercising  such  intelligence  cannot  exi.st  without 
elevating  its  subject  to  that  intellectual  freedom  which  is 
the  proper  and  distinguishing  characteristic  of  human  ra- 
tionality. 

If  we  ascend  to  the  higher  classes  of  animals,  fewer  in- 
stances occur  of  those  operations  which  include  in  them 
principles  of  science;  and  the  actions  of  this  character 
which  are  to  be  observed  among  such  animals,  do  not  appear 
to  arise  from  a  conscious  free  principle,  but  to  be  the  result 
of  a  dictation,  similar  to  that  by  which  the  operations  of  the 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


insect  world  are  carried  on;  as  in  the  case  of  the  Beaver  in 
the  construction  of  his  dam  and  hut.  In  the  higher  orders  of 
animals,  indeed,  we  lose  sight  of  the  more  astonishing  dis- 
plays of  science  which  abound  in  some  of  the  inferior  tribes, 
as  in  insects; — as  if  to  mark  that  such  science  is  not  the  con- 
scious property  of  the  brute  nature.  Thus  the  Mammalia 
appear  to  be  more  particularly  the  subjects,  in  which  a  mo- 
ral intelligence  is  operative,  and  thus  are  capable  of  being 
rendered  more  immediately  instrumental  to  the  moral  uses 
to  which  many  species  of  them  are  directed  by  man:  where- 
as the  insect  tribes  appear  to  be  more  particularly  the  sub- 
jects in  which  a  scientific  intelligence  is  displayed;  I  say 
more  particularly,  because  the  agencies  in  all  cases  are  evi- 
dently both  moral  and  scientific,  although  operating  diverse- 
ly, so  as  to  produce  the  appearance  of  such  distinction ;  for  in 
every  case  the  influent  agency  must  be  moral  as  regarding 
the  end;  and  scientific  as  regarding  the  means;  and  in  the 
larger  quadrupeds,  the  efiects  of  moral  intelligence  are  as 
finely  illustrated  by  the  Horse,  the  Elephant,  the  Camel, 
and  the  Dog,  as  are  the  effects  of  scientific  intelligence  in 
the  operations  of  insects.  In  every  case  in  which  science 
is  displayed  in  the  actions  of  quadrupeds,  it  is  evidently,  as 
respects  the  creatures,  as  much  above  any  conscious  percep- 
tion of  their  own,  as  it  is  in  the  case  of  insects: — in  this 
respect  the  Bee  and  the  Beaver  are  both  on  a  par,  and  it 
would  be  unreasonable  to  concede  a  perception  of  science  to 
the  latter,  and  at  the  same  time  to  deny  it  to  the  former. 
Neither  does  the  Dog  possess  any  advantage  over  the  Bee 
or  the  Beaver  in  this  respect;  the  instinctive  science  he 
displays  in  the  chase  is  evidently  not  objectively  reflected 
upon  by  him,  which  is  manifest  from  the  fact  that  his  ordi- 
nary nature  is  not  at  all  elevated  or  refined  by  any  percep- 
tions or  conclusions  which  would  result  from  the  view  of 
his  acute  instinctive  discriminations.  The  Dog,  as  we  all 
know,  is  a  keen  and  clever  sportsman;  but  if,  in  this  case, 
his  discriminations  were  the  result  of  reflection, — if  he  had 
the  power  of  consciously  reflecting  in  himself,  at  the  time  of 
the  chase,  on  what  was  proper  to  be  done,  and  on  the  best 
means  of  procedure;  and  if  this  power  were  not  derived 
from  some  hidden  principle  of  impulse,  acting  upon  his  con- 
scious nature,  he  would  have  the  power  to  reflect,  subse- 
quently, both  upon  the  means  and  the  action,  the  whole  of 
which  would  thus  be  made  the  object  of  his  proper  reflec- 
tion. He  would  thus  be  able  to  take  an  intellectual  view 
of  the  chase,  and  of  his  own  peculiar  capabilities;  the  door 
of  analysis  would  be  opened  to  him;  and,  contrary  to  the 
fact,  he  would  thus  advance  at  least  one  step  in  the  scale  of 
intellect.  If,  however,  we  admit, — what  seems  to  accord 
alike  with  reason  and  with  fact — that  his  conscious  mind 
must  have  been,  in  this  exercise  of  his  instinct,  impressed 
by  an  agency  above  it,  no  such  consequence  as  that  alluded 
to  would  follow,  from  the  most  wonderful  display  of  adroit- 

Qq 


ness  and  discrimination.  The  impression  ceasing  or  subsid- 
ing with  the  requirement,  would  leave  him  precisely  where 
it  found  him;  and  accordingly  we  find,  that  the  Hound,  who 
displays  the  most  consummate  skill  and  manoeuvre  in  the 
chase,  remains  stationary,  and  does  not  ascend  into  the  scale 
of  intellectual  consciousness;  nor  can  he,  as  to  intellectual 
superiority,  be  ranked  above  the  contemned  and  undignified 
Cur. 

The  incongruities  in  the  actions  of  brutes,  afford  again 
striking  proofs,  that  they  act  under  the  operation  of  an  in- 
telligence superior  to  the  plane  of  their  proper  perception; 
and  which,  if  we  consider  it  as  affecting  them  through  a 
limited  channel,  by  particular  impressions  on  their  con- 
scious faculties,  will  account  for  the  wonderful  operations 
performed  by  many  of  them,  who  are  not  in  any  wise  re- 
markable for  their  general  sagacity ;  whose  traits  of  perfec- 
tion are  circumscribed  by  an  exceedingly  narrow  limit,  and 
which  are  yet,  within  that  limit,  truly  astonishing.  "  With 
what  caution  does  the  hen  provide  herself  a  nest  in  places 
unfrequented  and  free  from  noise  and  disturbance  ?  When 
she  has  laid  her  eggs  in  such  a  manner  that  she  can  cover 
them,  what  care  does  she  take  in  turning  them  fre- 
quently that  all  parts  may  partake  of  the  vital  warmth  ? 
When  she  leaves  them  to  provide  for  her  necessary  suste- 
nance, how  punctually  does  she  return  before  they  have 
time  to  cool,  and  become  incapable  of  producing  an  animal  r 
In  the  summer  j'ou  see  her  giving  herself  greater  freedoms, 
and  quitting  her  care  for  above  two  hours  together,  but  in 
winter,  when  the  rigour  of  the  season  would  chill  the  prin- 
ciples of  life  and  destro}'  the  j'oung  one,  she  grows  more 
assiduous  in  her  attendance,  and  stays  away  but  half  the 
time.  When  the  birth  approaches,  with  how  much  nicety 
and  attention  does  she  help  the  chick  to  break  its  prison; 
not  to  notice  her  covering  it  from  the  injuries  of  the  wea- 
ther, providing  it  proper  nourishment,  and  teaching  it  to 
help  itself;  nor  to  mention  her  forsaking  the  nest,  if,  after 
the  usual  time  of  reckoning,  the  j'oung  one  does  not  make 
its  appearance.  A  chemical  operation  could  not  be  followed 
with  greater  art  and  diligence  than  is  seen  in  the  hatching 
of  a  chick;  though  there  are  many  other  birds  that  show  an 
infinitely  greater  sagacity  in  all  the  fore-mentioned  particu- 
lars. 

"  But,  at  the  same  time,  the  hen  that  has  all  this  seeming 
ingenuity,  (which  is  indeed  absolutelj^  necessary  for  the 
propagation  of  the  species,)  considered  in  other  respects,  is 
without  the  least  glimmerings  of  thought  or  common  sense. 
She  mistakes  a  piece  of  chalk  for  an  egg,  and  sits  upon  it  in 
the  same  manner:  she  is  insensible  of  any  increase  or  dimi- 
nution in  the  number  of  those  she  lays:  she  does  not  distin- 
guish between  her  own  and  those  of  another  species,  and 
when  the  birth  appears,  of  never  so  different  a  bird,  will 
cherish  it  for  her  own.     In  all  these  circumstances,  which 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


do  not  carry  an  immediate  regard  to  the  subsistence  of  her- 
self or  her  species,  she  is  a  very  idiot." 

A  similar  incongruity,  incompatible  with  the  rational  ex- 
ercise of  the  intellectual  principle  of  foresight,  upon  the 
supposition  of  that  principle  being  proper  to  the  mind  of 
the  creature,  is  exhibited  by  the  Hamster  Rat,  {3Iiis  Cri- 
cetus.)  The  principle  of  foresight,  as  exhibited  in  this 
animal,  who  lays  up  food,  "  not  for  his  winter's  support, 
(since  during  that  season  he  always  sleeps,)  but  for  his  nour- 
ishment previously  to  the  commencement,  and  after  the 
conclusion  of  his  state  of  torpidity,"  cannot  be  considered 
as  a  principle  of  which  he  has  any  consciousness  whatever; 
for  had  the  Hamster  a  conscious  perception  and  apprecia- 
tion of  such  a  principle,  he  would  be  led  to  apply  it  in  other 
cases,  as  well  as  in  that  of  storing  up  food  for  the  preserva- 
tion of  his  life;  but  as  if  to  demonstrate  the  irrationality  of 
the  animal,  he  attacks,  with  blind  fury,  the  largest  quadru- 
ped that  comes  in  his  way;  instead  of  seeking  safety  by 
flight,  like  most  other  creatures  in  whom  the  principle  of 
caution  is  observable;  and  which  a  rational  foresight  would 
necessarily  impel  him  to,  when  menaced  with  destruction 
by  a  gigantic  adversary. 

The  Arctic  Fox,  as  Crantz  relates,  enters  the  water  and 
splashes  with  his  foot  to  bring  up  the  fish,  which  he  then 
seizes;  and  the  Greenland  women,  profiting  by  his  example, 
employ  with  success  a  similar  artifice:  the  Fox  surely  does 
not  reflect  either  upon  the  act  or  the  means,  as  the  women 
must  do;  in  him  the  act  is  evidently  spontaneous,  and  does 
not  flo^v  from  any  thought,  of  which  analysis  is  predicable. 

The  limitation  of  the  brute  mind,  and  its  exclusion  from 
intellectual  consciousness,  or  proper  reflection,  is  also  appa- 
rent in  the  inutility  of  speech  to  such  animals  as  can  be 
taught  to  articulate,  in  effecting  any  thing  beyond  imitation; 
evincing,  clearly,  the  incommunicability  of  the  power  of 
reason  to  the  creature; — while,  at  the  same  time,  it  illus- 
trates the  power  of  the  influence  of  the  human  mind,  as 
exerted  upon  the  mind  and  faculties  of  the  animal,  and  ascer- 
tains the  limit  of  that  influence.  There  can  be  no  reason- 
ing without  reflection,  no  reflection  without  intellectual 
freedom:  if  this  reflection  and  this  freedom  were  the  attri- 
bute of  the  brute, — how,  I  ask,  should  we  deny  him  a  share 
of  human  consciousness.  Does  this  consciousness,  in  kind, 
exist  in  the  brute  mind  ?  and  are  they  endowed  with  it  for 
no  other  purpose  than  to  produce, — what  it  could  not  fail  to 
produce, — the  sensible  perception  of  their  own  individual 
degradation  ? — or,  would  it  not  follow,  upon  such  an  admis- 
sion of  the  rationality  of  brutes,  that  we  should  be  very 
likely  to  see  the  fable  realized  of  the  Mice  holding  a  coun- 
cil to  "  bell  the  Cat,"  and  absolutely  devising  a  successful 
stratagem  to  effect  their  purpose?  Is  there,  upon  such  a 
principle,  any  ground  for  asserting,  that,  with  proper  care, 
we  might  not  be  able  to  rear  a  few  four-legged  philosophers 


and  mechanicians,  of  at  least  tolerable  erudition  and  science? 
or  rather,  the  principle  being  admitted,  can  it  be  safely  de- 
nied that  they  do  not  already  exist? 

I  am  aware  that  there  is  a  class  of  actions  which  are,  in 
great  measure,  modifications  arising  from  the  influence  of 
education  and  habit,  and  which,  perhaps,  appear  more 
strongly  than  any  others,  to  favour  the  supposition  that 
brutes  are  possessed,  in  some  degree,  of  the  power  of  analy- 
sis and  reason;  but  as  this  appearance  is  of  so  prominent  a 
character,  and  is  so  closely  allied  to  their  specific  mental 
capabilities,  I  purpose  to  enter  upon  a  more  particular  con- 
sideration of  it  in  the  course  of  these  essays.  I  shall  only 
remark,  for  the  present,  that  the  natures  of  brutes  no  doubt 
evince  a  strong  susceptibility  of  being  influenced,  within  cer- 
tain limits,  by  the  human  mind;  but  this  susceptibility  of 
subservience  to  human  intelligence,  so  far  from  militating 
against  the  views  here  offered  of  the  proper  nature  of  brutes, 
appears  rather  to  strengthen  and  confirm  the  position,  that 
they  are  affected  by  influences  above  their  own  conscious- 
ness; and  that  the  wisdom  of  the  Creator  has  so  constituted 
their  natures,  as  to  be  affected  by  the  influence  of  mediate 
agencies,  in  order  to  the  production  of  the  various  ends  which 
it  may  be  necessary  should  be  accomplished  through  their 
instrumentality. 

I  need  scarcely  remark  that  the  general  views  attempted 
to  be  established  by  the  foregoing  observations,  cannot  be 
adequately  illustrated  in  the  limited  survey  of  a  Preliminary 
Essay: — their  further  development  must  rest  upon  a  more 
extended  examination  of  the  particular  functions,  which, 
taken  collectively,  form  the  brute  economy.  Certain  it  is, 
however,  that  the  liberty  and  freedom  of  the  human  mind 
forms  the  basis  of  its  rationality  and  intelligence,  which  is 
no  doubt  aided  by  an  influent  light  and  perception  received 
from  the  source  of  all  Being;  the  consciousness  of  which 
influence  connects  him  more  immediately  with  that  Source; 
— and  that  the  absence  of  freedom  in  the  brute  mind,  in 
this  respect  forms  the  basis  of  its  irrationality,  and  demon- 
strates that  the  influent  light  and  perception  which  gives 
birth  to  the  surprising  actions  we  see  animals  perform,  forms 
no  part  of  their  conscious  nature.  Thus  brutes  are  evidently 
connected  with  the  Author  of  Creation,  though  in  a  manner 
more  remote  than  man. 

The  freedom  of  man  consists  in  his  being  able  to  take  a 
survey  from  an  eminence,  as  it  were,  of  the  various  discri- 
minations which  he  himself  efiects,  and  which,  by  various 
agencies,  are  effected  throughout  lower  existence;  hence, 
although  man  possesses  a  lower  or  animal  mind,  similar,  as 
considered  distinctly  and  by  itself,  to  the  brute  mind,  and 
which  inferior  mind  or  region  he  looks  down  upon  from  an 
intellectual  eminence,  it  is  evident  that  his  consciousness 
respecting  even  the  things  of  tliis  inferior  region  is  illumin- 
ed, by  the  glorious  light  of  intellect  and  rationality  which 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


is  proper  to  him.  The  brute,  on  the  contrary,  does  not 
survey  from  an  elevated  sphere,  the  discriminations  which 
he  himself  effects,  nor  those  of  nature  which  are  in  opera- 
tion around  him;  although  these  discriminations,  as  effected 
by  himself  and  by  the  other  subjects  of  creation  around 
him,  are  calculated  to  lead  him  on  in  the  road  of  analysis, 
did  he  but  possess  the  proper  faculty.  May  we  not  then 
infer, — That  intellectual  and  scientific  qualities  do  not  be- 
come objective  in  the  minds  of  brutes;  or,  that  the  intel- 
lectual and  scientific  actions  which  they  perform,  are  not 
1  upon  or  contrived  by  them  as  such;  thus  that  they 
no  intellectual  or  scientific  consciousness,  and,  con- 
sequently, that  no  intellectual  or  scientific  design  can  be  at- 
tributed to  them;  and,  therefore,  that  so  much  of  intellectual 
or  scientific  design  as  appears  conspicuous  in  their  actions, 
must  be  the  effect  of  intellectual  and  scientific  powers  or 
energies,  acting  upon  them  in  a  region  of  their  minds  above 
the  sphere  of  their  proper  consciousness? 

Zoological  Journal. 


MIGRATION  OF  BIRDS. 

The  migration  of  birds  is  a  singular  provision  of  nature, 
and  though  the  rapidity  of  their  motion  makes  their  passage 
across  the  widest  seas  a  matter  easily  accomplished,  yet  the 
instinct  which  leads  them  to  change  their  latitude  with  the 
seasons  is  worthy  of  notice;  the  more  so,  that  it  is  also  one 
of  the  resources  of  man  in  a  state  of  nature.  The  same 
necessity,  that  of  finding  food,  seems  to  actuate  both.  The 
Siberian  hordes  follow  the  course  of  vegetation,  moving  to 
the  south  as  the  winter  cold  nips  the  vegetation  of  the  north; 
and  to  the  north,  as  the  summer  heat  parches  it  in  the  south. 
The  Esquimaux,  on  the  other  hand,  move  to  the  south  in 
summer,  and  support  themselves  by  hunting,  while  they 
return  northward  to  the  sea  in  winter,  to  feed  upon  seals 
and  other  breathing  natives  of  the  deep,  which  must  keep 
open  holes  in  the  ice  to  preserve  their  existence.  In  like 
manner,  the  migratory  flights  of  birds  appear  to  be  chiefly 
influenced  by  the  necessity  of  seeking  food,  though  partly 
also  by  the  finding  of  proper  places  for  rearing  their 
young. 

From  the  nature  of  their  powers  of  motion,  the  seasonal 
migrations  of  quadrupeds  are  necessarily  limited.  If  they 
be  inhabitants  of  islands,  they  cannot  pass  over  the  sea; 
and  upon  continents,  large  rivers,  mountains,  or  desarts, 
limit  their  range.  In  Britain,  the  stag  and  the  roe,  which 
are  found  only  in  the  uplands  in  the  warm  season,  find 
their  way  to  the  warm  and  sheltered  plains  in  the  winter; 
and  on  more  extensive  lands  some  of  the  quadrupeds  take 
longer  journies;  but  they  are  all  comparatively  limited, 
and  extensive  migrations  are  performed  only  by  those  ani- 
mals that  can  make  their  pathvs^ays  in  the  sea  or  the  air. 


The  seal,  which,  during  summer,  is  found  in  such  numbers 
on  the  dreary  shores  of  Greenland,  Jan  Maj-en,  and  Spitz- 
bergen,  finds  its  way  to  Iceland  in  the  winter;  but  its 
migration  is  limited;  and  numbers  still  remain  in  the  most 
northern  regions  that  have  been  visited.  The  inhabitants 
of  the  water,  have,  indeed,  less  necessity  for  seasonal 
changes  of  abode  than  those  of  the  land;  as  the  water 
undergoes  less  change  of  temperature,  and  as  some  of  those 
sea  animals  which,  like  the  seal,  require  to  come  frequently 
to  the  surface  to  breathe,  do  not  require  to  remain  long 
above  water,  or  have  much  of  their  bodies  exposed  to  the 
air.  The  grand  inconvenience  which  they  seek  to  avoid, 
appears  to  be  the  labour  of  keeping  open  those  breathing 
holes,  without  which  they  could  not  live  under  the  ice.  Or 
if  there  is  any  other  instinct,  it  may  be  t?ie  desire  of  escap- 
ing their  enemies,  as  the  bears  and  the  northern  people 
watch  them  at  their  holes,  and  make  them  a  sure  and  easy 
prey.  Those  who  have  not  thought  rightly  upon  the  sub- 
ject, are  apt  to  say  that  they  could  not  know  of  those 
dangers,  and  therefore  could  not  seek  to  avoid  them  with- 
out experience.  But  that  is  part  of  the  general  error  into 
which  we  are  so  apt  to  fall  when  we  begin  the  study  of 
nature.  We  make  ourselves  the  standard  of  comparison, 
and  think  of  the  animals  not  only  as  if  they  had  to  deal 
with  men,  but  as  if  they  actually  were  men  themselves. 
Whereas,  in  their  natural  state  they  need  no  teaching,  and 
the  danger,  or  the  means  of  life,  and  the  instinct  by  which 
the  one  is  avoided,  and  the  other  secured,  are  co-existent. 
We  are  in  the  habit  of  attributing  superior  sagacity  to  ani- 
mals in  certain  stages  of  their  being;  as  we  give  the  "old 
fox"  credit  for  greater  cunning.  That  may  be,  indeed, 
must  be,  true,  as  regards  the  arts  of  man,  because  the 
means  to  which  he  resorts  for  the  capture  or  destruction  of 
animals  are  not  natural,  and  thus  it  would  be  a  violation  of 
the  law  of  nature  to  suppose  that  they  should  be  met  by  a 
natural  instinct.  In  situations  which  nature  produces,  the 
children  of  nature  are  never  at  a  loss;  but  as  the  contri- 
vances of  man  are  no  part  of  her  plans,  it  would  be  con- 
trary to  the  general  law  to  suppose  that  they  should  be 
instinctively  provided  against  these.  That  they  do  learn 
a  little  wisdom  from  experience,  is  a  proof  that  they  are 
not  mere  machines;  that  they  are  something  more  than 
mechanical;  that  life,  in  the  humblest  thing  that  lives,  is 
different  in  kind  from  the  action  of  mere  matter;  and  that 
there  runs  through  the  whole  of  organized  being,  a  philo- 
sophy which  man,  when  he  thinks  of  it,  must  admire,  but 
which  he  cannot  fathom.  The  animal,  or  even  the  plant, 
is  not  like  an  engine,  confined  to  certain  movements  which 
it  cannot  vary,  but  has  a  certain  range  of  volition  (if  we 
may  give  it  the  name)  by  means  of  which  it  can  deviate  a 
little  from  that  which  would  otherwise  be  its  path,  if  that 
path  contain  ought  that  is  dangerous  or  inconvenient.   Thus, 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  fflSTORY 


if  we  would  come  to  the  living  productions  of  nature  with 
minds  fit  for  learning  those  lessons  which  they  are  so  well 
calculated  for  imparting,  we  must  equally  avoid  two  ex- 
tremes, the  one  of  which  would  lead  us  to  confound  organic 
being  with  the  mere  inorganic  clods  of  the  valley,  and  the 
other  would  lead  us  to  confound  their  instantaneous  im- 
pulses with  deliberation,  and  measure  instinct  by  the  stand- 
ard of  reason. 

The  migrations  of  birds  are  more  remarkable,  and  have 
been  more  early  and  more  carefully  observed;  and  that 


thus,  while  in  migration  they  seek  their  own  immediate 
comfort,  they  preserve  other  races  of  being.  In  some  of 
the  species,  too,  they  preserve  a  portion  of  their  own  race. 
It  has  been  mentioned  that  the  young  of  the  swan  are  una- 
ble to  migrate  the  first  year;  and  of  most  migratory  birds, 
there  are  always  a  few  that  are  unable  for  the  fatigue  of 
migration.  If  the  strong  did  not  go  away,  the  whole  of  the 
weak,  and  in  cases  like  that  of  the  swan,  the  whole  of  the 
young,  would  perish.  After  the  moulting  takes  place,  in 
most  birds,  perhaps  in  all  of  them  in  a  state  of  nature,  the 


birds  should  have  a  greater  range,  is  in  perfect  accordance     paternal  instinct  ceases  to  operate;  they  feel  no  more  for  the 

with  the  general  law  of  nature.    The  apparatus  with  which     i— ~J  -'"•^•--^  t.  i.  r.     ...ir  __,__•  i_„ 

the  majority  of  birds  are  furnished  for  preparing  their  food 

for  digestion  in  the  stomach,  confines  that  food  within  a 

smaller  compass  tl^n  the  food  of  the  quadrupeds.     With 

the  exception  of  the  birds  of  prey,  which  can  rend  other 

animals  for  their  subsistence,  and  are  thus  capable  of  living 

at  all  seasons  of  the  year,  the  birds  must  subsist  upon  soft 

substances,   as  insects  and  their  larvffi,   or  the  seeds,  and 

green  and  succulent  leaves  of  plants;  while  quadrupeds, 

beino-  furnished  with  organs  of  mastication  which,  along 

with  the  saliva,  reduce  their  food  to  a  sort  of  pulp  before 

it  be  swallowed,  can  subsist  upon  dry  leaves  and  bark,  and 

even  upon  twigs.     Thus,   in  even  the  coldest  countries. 


brood  of  that  year.  It  is  each  for  itself  individually  durino 
the  necessity  of  the  winter;  and  when  the  genial  warmth 
of  the  spring  again  awakens  the  more  kindly  feelings,  the 
objects  of  those  feelings  are  a  new  brood.  In  her  march, 
nature  never  looks  back;  her  instinct  is  fixed  on  the  pre- 
sent, and  thus  leads  to  the  future,  without  any  reference  to 
that  experience  which  the  progress  of  reason  and  thought 
requires.  In  consequence  of  this,  the  strong  would  take 
the  food  from  the  weak,  the  active  from  the  feeble,  .and  the 
full-grown  from  their  offspring,  if  nature  were  not  true  to 
her  purpose,  and  prompted  the  powerful  to  wing  their  way 
to  regions  in  which  food  is  more  easily  to  be  found,  and 
leave  the  young  and  the  feeble  to  pick  up  the  fragments  that 


there  is  still  some  food  for  a  portion  of  those  quadrupeds  are  left,  in  those  places  which  they  are  unable  to  quit, 
that  live  upon  vegetables;  and  these  again  afford  subsistence 
for  the  carnivorous  ones,  as  well  as  for  the  more  powerful 
birds  of  prey.  In  very  cold  places  too,  the  smaller  quad- 
rupeds, and  even  some  of  the  larger  ones,  are  so  constituted 
that  they  hibernate,  or  pass  the  winter  in  a  state  of  tor- 
pidity, in  which  they  have  no  necessity  for  food,  and  con- 
sequently none  for  change  of  place. 


It  has  been  said  that  the  teachableness  which  is  the  cha- 
racteristic of  man,  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  instincts  of 
the  animals;  but  it  does  not  follow  that  he  should  not  take 
a  lesson  from  those  instincts;  because  the  instincts  of  ani- 
mals and  the  reason  of  man  are  all  intended  to  forward  the 
very  same  objects — the  good  of  the  individual  and  of  the 
race.      Now,  in  this  very  fact  of  the  migration  of  birds. 


But  in  the  severity  of  the  northern  winter,  the  food  of    simple  and  natural  as  it  may  seem,  and  unheeded  as  it  is 


the  feathered  tribes  fails.  The  earth  and  the  waters  are 
bound  up  in  ice,  so  that  the  worms  and  larvs  are  beyond 
their  reach;  the  air,  which  in  summer  is  so  peopled  with 
insects,  is  left  without  a  living  thing;  the  buds  of  the  lowly 
evero-reen  shrubs,  and  those  seeds  which  have  fallen  to  the 
ground,  are  hid  under  that  cold  but  fertilizing  mantle  of 
snow,  which,  cold  as  it  seems,  secures  the  vegetation  of  the 
coming  summer;  the  berries  and  capsules  that  rise  above 
the  snow  are  soon  exhausted;  and  the  buds  of  the  alpine 
trees  are  generally  so  enveloped  in  resin  and  other  indi- 
gestible matters,  that  they  cannot  be  eaten.  Thus  the  birds 
must  roam  in  quest  of  food:  nor  is  it  a  hardship,— it  is  a 
wise  provision.  Were  they  to  remain,  and  had  they  access 
to  the  embryos  of  life  in  their  then  state,  one  season  would 
go  far  to  make  the  country  a  desart;  and  even  the  birds 
would  be  deprived  of  their  summer  subsistence  for  them- 
selves and  their  young.  They  are  also  provided  with 
means  by  which  they  can  transport  themselves,  in  average 
states  of  the  weather. 


ithout  much  inconvenience;  and 


by  careless  observers,  we  have  an  example  worth  copying, 
even  in  the  most  refined  and  best  governed  society.  The 
strong  and  the  active  go  upon  far  journeys,  and  subsist  in 
distant  lands,  and  leave  what  food  there  is  for  their  more 
helpless  brethren.  Would  men  do  the  same — would  they 
temper  the  work  to  the  capacity  of  the  worker,  in  the  way 
that  it  is  done  by  the  instincts  of  those  migratory  birds — 
the  world  would  be  spared  a  deal  of  misery.  It  is  thus 
that,  in  the  careful  study  of  nature,  man  stands  reproved 
at  the  example  of  the  lower  creatures,  and  learns,  by  doing 
by  reason  as  they  do  by  instinct,  to  be  grateful  to  that 
Power,  "  who  teacheth  us  more  than  the  beasts  of  the  field, 
and  maketh  us  wiser  than  the  fowls  of  heaven." 

The  migrating  birds  that  spend  part  of  the  year  in  the 
British  islands,  may  be  divided  into  two  classes, — su7n- 
mer  birds  and  winter  birds;  but  of  both  classes  some  are 
only  occasional  visitants,  and  others  are  mere  birds  of 
passage,  tarrying  only  for  a  short  time,  as  they  are  on  their 
route  to  other  countries. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


The  two  general  classes  observe  the  same  law  in  both  of 
their  migratory  instincts — the  finding  of  food,  and  of  fit 
places  for  the  rearing  of  their  young.  The  general  motion 
for  these  two  purposes  is  in  opposite  directions — they  move 
toward  warmer  regions  in  search  of  food,  and  toward  colder 
ones  in  order  to  build  their  nests.  The  winter  birds  come 
to  us  for  food,  and  the  summer  ones  for  nidification.  The 
winter  ones  never  are  those  that  feed  upon  land  insects,  and 
but  seldom  those  that  feed  upon  seeds;  because  when  they 
come,  there  are  few  of  these.  They  are  chiefly  water- 
birds,  in  some  sense  or  other.  They  frequent  the  shores  of 
the  seas,  the  inland  lakes,  or  the  margins  of  springs,  rivu- 
lets, and  rivers,  and  they  swi.m  or  wade,  or  merely  run 
along  the  bank,  according  to  their  nature;  and  resort  to 
those  haunts  where  their  food  is  to  be  found  with  the  most 
unerring  certainty.  They  are  all  common  inhabitants  of 
regions  farther  to  the  north,  have  reared  their  broods  there, 
and  remained  till  the  supply  of  food  began  to  fail.  The 
extent  of  their  flight  southward  depends  upon  the  severity 
of  the  winter;  they  come  earlier,  and  extend  farther,  when 
that  is  severe;  and  their  departure  is  accelerated  by  a  warm 
spring,  and  retarded  by  a  cold  one.  Though  the  diffusion 
of  the  same  species  of  birds  be  much  more  extended  than 
that  of  the  same  species  of  quadrupeds,  there  is  still  a  va- 
riation according  to  the  longitude.  The  birds  of  passage 
which  appear  in  Britain  are  not  exactly  the  same  as  those 
either  of  continental  Europe  or  of  America;  and  that  ac- 
counts for  the  appearance  of  the  occasional  visiters.  A 
strong  wind  from  the  east,  during  the  time  of  their  flight, 
often  wafts  a  continental  bird  to  our  shores;  and  a  strong 
wind  from  the  west  occasionally  brings  us  an  American 
visiter.  The  flight  of  birds  is,  therefore,  a  sort  of  augury, 
though  a  very  difierent  sort  from  that  believed  in  by  the 
superstitions  of  antiquity.  It  has  no  connexion  with  the 
ofiBces  or  fortunes  of  men,  but  it  tells  what  kind  of  season 
prevails  in  those  climes  whence  the  visiters  come.  The 
early  appearance  of  the  winter  birds  is  a  sure  sign  of  an 
early  winter  in  the  northern  countries;  and  the  early 
appearance  of  the  summer  ones  is  just  as  sure  a  sign  of  an 
early  and  genial  spring  in  the  south. 

The  migration  of  our  winter  visitants  is  a  very  simple 
matter;  we  can  easily  understand  why  birds,  when  their 
supply  of  food  begins  to  fail,  should  fly  ofi"  in  a  warm  direc- 
tion; but  the  return — the  general  migration  northward  for 
the  purpose  of  rearing  their  young,  is,  at  first  consideration, 
a  more  difficult  matter.  Yet  when  we  think  a  little,  the 
difficulty  ceases,  and  the  one  movement  becomes  no  more  a 
miracle  or  a  marvel  than  the  other.  Very  many  of  the 
summer  birds  feed  upon  insects;  and  summer  insects  are 
more  abundant  in  the  northern  regions  than  in  the  south. 
This  happens  particularly  with  the  water-flies,  of  which  there 
are  supposed  to  be  several  generations  in  the  course  of  a 
Rr 


long  summer's  day;  and  the  short  night  at  that  season  occa- 
sions little  interruption  to  their  production.  The  same 
causes  which  produce  the  greater  supply  of  insect  food,  in- 
crease the  daily  period  during  which  the  bird  can  hunt, 
and  this  gives  it  a  farther  facility  of  finding  food,  over 
what  it  would  have  in  the  comparatively  short  days  farther 
to  the  south.  But  the  breeding  time  is  that  at  which  the 
birds  are  called  upon  for  extraordinary  labour.  During  the 
period  that  the  nest  is  building,  there  is  a  new  occupation 
altogether;  and  the  nests,  even  of  very  small  birds,  are 
constructed  with  so  much  care,  that  that  and  the  finding  of 
subsistence  demand  more  than  the  average  power  of  indus- 
try. When  the  female  begins  to  sit  on  the  eggs,  the  feed- 
ing of  her  partially  depends  upon  the  male;  and  when  the 
young  are  hatched,  their  support,  till  they  are  in  a  condition 
for  supporting  themselves,  requires  a  considerable  portion 
of  the  time  and  industry  of  both  parents.  When  the  young 
are  fledged,  the  parent  birds  still  require  long  days:  the 
operation  of  moulting,  by  which  their  tattered  plumage  is 
replaced  by  a  new  supply,  exhausts  them:  thus  they  have 
long  days,  and  also  food  in  abundance,  when  they  are  least 
able  to  make  exertions  in  search  of  it;  and  by  the  time  that 
the  decreasing  supply  warns  them  that  it  is  time  to  seek 
more  southern  climes,  they  are  in  prime  feather  and  vigor- 
ous health,  and  able  to  sustain  the  fatigues  of  the  voyage. 
The  return,  too,  is,  generally  speaking,  after  the  autumnal 
equinox,  so  that  in  their  migration  southward,  they  have 
the  same  advantage  of  a  longer  day  than  in  places  north- 
ward. Thus,  even  in  this  common-place  matter — a  matter 
which  is  so  common-place  that  few  take  the  trouble  of  heed- 
ing it,  and  almost  none  inquire  farther  than  saying  that  it 
is  the  instinct  of  birds, — we  may  trace  as  perfect  a  succes- 
sion of  antecedent  and  consequent,  or  as  we  say,  of  cause 
and  efiect,  as  in  any  other  part  of  the  works  or  economy  of 
creation.  We  ought,  indeed,  to  guard  very  carefully 
against  stopping  at  the  word  instinct,  or  indeed  at  any  other 
word  which  is  so  very  general  that  we  cannot  attach  a  clear 
and  definite  meaning  to  it.  Those  general  words  are  the 
stumbling-blocks  and  barriers  in  the  way  to  knowledge; 
and  when  we  turn  to  them  who  take  upon  themselves  the 
important  business  of  instruction,  and  ask  them  for  an  ex- 
planation, they  but  too  frequently  give  us  a  word,  and 
when  we  get  one,  in  our  own  language  or  in  any  other,  to 
which  we  can  attach  no  meaning,  the  path  to  knowledge  is 
closed.  Perhaps  there  are  few  words  by  which  it  is  more 
frequently  closed  than  this  same  word,  "instinct;"  because 
we  are  apt  to  rest  satisfied  with  it  as  an  ultimate  or  insulated 
fact,  and  never  inquire  into  that  chain  of  phenomena  of 
which  it  forms  a  part.  Now  nothing  in  nature  stands  alone: 
— Creation  needs  no  new  fiat;  but  the  succession  of  events 
throughout  all  her  works  depends  on  laws  which  are  uner- 
ring,  because  they  are  not  imposed   by  any  thing  from 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


without,  but  are  the  very  nature  and  constitution  of  the 
beings  that  appear  to  obey  them.  It  is  this  which  makes 
nature  so  wonderful,  which  so  stamps  upon  it  the  impress 
of  an  almighty  Creator: — its  parts  and  phenomena  are  mil- 
lions; the  primary  power  that  puts  all  in  motion,  is  but 
One. 

These  reflections  have  been  a  little  extended,  because 
they  are  often  in  danger  of  being  overlooked;  and  because 
the  tranquil  shore  of  an  expansive  lake  is  one  of  the  best 
scenes  for  contemplation, — one  at  which  the  several  ele- 
ments and  their  inhabitants  are  more  easily  brought  to- 
gether than  at  almost  any  other.  But  it  is  not  the  broad 
expanse  of  water,  with  its  mountains  and  its  majestic 
scenery,  that  is  alone  worthy  of  our  contemplation.  The 
mountain  tarn,  which  gleams  out  in  the  bosom  of  some 
brown  hill  or  beetling  rock,  like  a  gem  in  the  desert,  when 
one  does  not  expect  it; — the  sheet  of  glittering  water  amid 
encircling  forests;  and  the  shelving  pool  amid  undulated 
green  hills,  with  its  margins  alternating  of  white  marie, 
clean  pebbles,  and  sedgy  banks,  have  all  their  beauty  and 
their  respective  inhabitants.  It  is  true  that  the  osprey  and 
the  fishing-eagle  do  not  there  display  their  feats  of  strength, 
and  the  wild  swan  does  not  bring  forth  her  young,  or  even 
often  visit;  but  our  old  friend  the  heron  is  there,  and  she 
finds  new  associates  with  whom  she  can  dwell  in  peace. 
British  Naturalist. 


WOODCOCK. 
SCOLOPAX  MINOR. 
[Plate  XIV.] 
Arct.  Zool.  p.  463,  No.  365.— Turt.  Syst.  396, 


Scolo- 
p.  714,  No.  2.  Gen.  Syn. 


pax  minor,  Lath.  Ind.  Orn 

3,  p.  131. — J.  Doughty's  Collection. 

This  bird  is  universally  known  to  our  sportsmen.  It 
arrives  in  Pennsylvania  early  in  March,  sometimes  sooner; 
and  I  doubt  not  but  in  mild  winters  some  few  remain  with 
us  the  whole  of  that  season.  During  the  day,  they  keep  to 
the  woods  and  thickets,  and  at  the  approach  of  evening  seek 
the  springs,  and  open  watery  places,  to  feed  in.  They  soon 
disperse  themselves  over  the  country  to  breed.  About  the 
beginning  of  July,  particularly  in  long-continued  hot 
weather,  they  descend  to  the  marshy  shores  of  our  large 
rivers,  their  favourite  springs  and  watery  recesses,  inland, 
being  chiefly  dried  up.  To  the  former  of  these  retreats 
they  are  pursued  by  the  merciless  sportsman,  flushed  by 
dogs,  and  shot  down  in  great  numbers.  This  species  of 
amusement,  when  eagerly  followed,  is  still  more  laborious 
and  fatiguing  than  that  of  Snipe-shooting;  and  from  the 
nature  of  the  ground,  or  cripple  as  it  is  usually  called,  viz. 


deep  mire,  intersected  with  old  logs,  which  are  covered  and 
hid  from  sight  by  high  reeds,  weeds,  and  alder  bushes,  the 
best  dogs  are  soon  tired  out;  and  it  is  customary  with  sports- 
men, who  regularly  pursue  this  diversion,  to  have  two  sets 
of  dogs,  to  relieve  each  other  alternately. 

Tiie  Woodcock  usually  begins  to  lay  in  April.  The 
nest  is  placed  on  the  ground,  in  a  retired  part  of  the  woods, 
frequently  at  the  root  of  an  old  stump.  It  is  formed  of  a 
few  withered  leaves,  and  stalks  of  grass,  laid  with  very 
little  art.  The  female  lays  four,  sometimes  five,  eggs, 
about  an  inch  and  a  half  long,  and  an  inch  or  rather  more  in 
diameter,  tapering  suddenly  to  the  small  end.  These  are 
of  a  dun  clay  colour,  thickly  marked  with  spots  of  brown, 
particularly  at  the  great  end,  and  interspersed  with  others 
of  a  very  pale  purple.  The  nest  of  the  Woodcock  has,  in 
several  instances  that  have  come  to  my  knowledge,  been 
found  with  eggs  in  February;  but  its  usual  time  of  begin- 
ning to  lay  is  early  in  April.  In  July,  August,  and  Sep- 
tember, they  are  considered  in  good  order  for  shooting. 

The  Woodcock  is  properly  a  nocturnal  bird,  feeding 
chiefly  at  night,  and  seldom  stirring  about  till  after  sunset. 
At  such  times,  as  well  as  in  the  early  part  of  the  morning, 
particularly  in  spring,  he  rises  by  a  kind  of  spiral  course,  to 
a  considerable  height  in  the  air,  uttering  at  times  a  sudden 
quack,  till  having  gained  his  utmost  height,  he  hovers 
around  in  a  wild,  irregular  manner,  making  a  sort  of  mur- 
muring sound;  then  descends  with  rapidity  as  he  rose. 
When  uttering  his  common  note  on  the  ground,  he  seems 
to  do  it  with  difficulty,  throwing  his  head  towards  the 
earth,  and  frequently  jetting  up  his  tail.  These  notes  and 
manffiuvres  are  most  usual  in  spring,  and  are  the  call  of  the 
male  to  his  favourite  female.  Their  food  consists  of  vari- 
ous larvse,  and  other  aquatic  worms,  for  which,  during  the 
evening,  they  are  almost  continually  turning  over  the 
leaves  with  their  bill,  or  searching  in  the  bogs.  Their 
flesh  is  reckoned  delicious,  and  prized  highly.  They  re- 
main with  us  till  late  in  autumn;  and  on  the  falling  of  the 
first  snows,  descend  from  the  ranges  of  the  Alleghany,  to 
the  lower  parts  of  the  country,  in  great  numbers;  soon 
after  which,  viz.  in  November,  they  move  ofi'to  the  south. 

This  bird,  in  its  general  figure  and  manners,  greatly  re- 
sembles the  Woodcock  of  Europe,  but  is  considerably  less, 
and  very  diSerently  marked  below,  being  an  entirely  dis- 
tinct species.  A  few  traits  will  clearly  point  out  their  dif- 
ferences. The  lower  parts  of  the  European  Woodcock  are 
thickly  barred  with  dusky  waved  lines,  on  a  yellowish  white 
ground.  The  present  species  has  those  parts  of  a  bright  fer- 
ruginous. The  male  of  the  American  species  weighs  from  five 
to  six  ounces,  the  female  eight:  the  European  twelve.  The 
European  Woodcock  makes  its  first  appearance  in  Britain 
in  October  and  November,  that  country  being  in  fact  only 
its  winter  quarters;  for  early  in  March  they  move  off  to 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


the  northern  parts  of  the  continent  to  breed.  The  Ameri- 
can species,  on  the  contrary,  winters  in  countries  south  of 
the  United  States,  arrives  here  early  in  March,  extends  its 
migrations  as  far,  at  least,  as  the  river  St.  Lawrence,  breeds 
in  all  the  intermediate  places,  and  retires  again  to  the  south 
on  the  approach  of  winter.  The  one  migrates  from  the 
torrid  to  the  temperate  regions;  the  other  from  the  tempe- 
rate to  the  arctic.  The  two  birds,  therefore,  notwith- 
standing their  names  are  the  same,  differ  not  only  in  size 
and  markings,  but  also  in  native  climate.  Hence  the 
absurdity  of  those  who  would  persuade  us,  that  the  Wood- 
cock of  America  crosses  the  Atlantic  to  Europe,  and 
vice  versa.  These  observations  have  been  thought  neces- 
sary, from  the  respectability  of  some  of  our  own  writers, 
who  seem  to  have  adopted  this  opinion. 

How  far  to  the  north  our  Woodcock  is  found,  I  am  un- 
able to  say.  It  is  not  mentioned  as  a  bird  of  Hudson's 
Bay;  and  being  altogether  unknown  in  the  northern  parts 
of  Europe,  it  is  very  probable  that  its  migrations  do  not 
extend  to  a  very  high  latitude;  for  it  may  be  laid  down  as 
a  general  rule,  that  those  birds  which  migrate  to  the  arctic 
regions  in  either  continent,  are  very  often  common  to  both. 
The  head  of  the  Woodcock  is  of  singular  conformation, 
large,  somewhat  triangular,  and  the  eye  fixed  at  a  remarka- 
ble distance  from  the  bill,  and  high  in  the  head.  This  con- 
struction was  necessary  to  give  a  greater  range  of  vision, 
and  to  secure  the  eye  from  injury  while  the  owner  is 
searching  in  the  mire.  The  flight  of  the  Woodcock  is  slow. 
When  flushed  at  any  time  in  the  woods,  he  rises  to  the 
height  of  the  bushes  or  under  wood,  and  almost  instantly 
drops  behind  them  again  at  a  short  distance,  generally  run- 
ning ofl'for  several  yards  as  soon  as  he  touches  the  ground. 
The  notion  that  there  are  two  species  of  Woodcock  in  this 
country  probably  originated  from  the  great  difference  be- 
tween the  male  and  female,  the  latter  being  considerably 
the  larger. 

The  male  Woodcock  is  ten  inches  and  a  half  long,  and 
sixteen  inches  in  extent;  bill  a  brownish  flesh  colour,  black 
towards  the  tip,  the  upper  mandible  ending  in  a  slight  nob, 
that  projects  about  one-tenth  of  an  inch  beyond  the  lower,* 
each  grooved,  and  in  length  somewhat  more  than  two 
inches  and  a  half;  forehead,  line  over  the  eye,  and  whole 
lower  parts,  reddish  tawny;  sides  of  the  neck  inclining  to 
ash;  between  the  eye  and  bill,  a  slight  streak  of  dark 
brown;  crown,  from  the  fore-part  of  the  eye  backwards, 
black,  crossed  by  three  narrow  bands  of  brownish  white; 
cheeks  marked  with  a  bar  of  black,  variegated  with  light 

*  Mr.  Pennant,  {Arct.  Zool.  p.  463.)  in  describing  Ihe  American  Woodcock 
says,  Ihat  the  lower  mandible  is  much  shorter  than  the  upper.  From  the  appear- 
ance of  his  figure  it  is  evident  that  the  specimen  from  which  that  and  his  de- 
Bcription  were  taken,  had  lost  nearly  half  an  inch  from  the  lower  mandible, 
probably  broken  off  by  accident.  Turton  and  others  have  repeated  this  mis- 
take. 


brown;  edges  of  the  back  and  of  the  scapulars,  pale  bluish 
white;  back  and  scapulars,  deep  black,  each  feather  tipt  or 
marbled  with  light  brown  and  bright  ferruginous,  with 
numerous  fine  zigzag  lines  of  black  crossing  the  lighter 
parts;  quills  plain  dusky  brown;  tail  black,  each  feather 
marked  along  the  outer  edge  with  small  spots  of  pale  brown, 
and  ending  in  narrow  tips  of  a  pale  drab  colour  above,  and 
silvery  white  below;  lining  of  the  wing  bright  rust;  legs 
and  feet  a  pale  reddish  flesh  colour;  eye  very  full  and 
black,  seated  high,  and  very  far  back  in  the  head;  weight 
five  ounces  and  a  half,  sometimes  six. 

The  female  is  twelve  inches  long,  and  eighteen  in  extent; 
weighs  eight  ounces;  and  differs  also  in  having  the  bill  very 
near  three  inches  in  length;  the  black  on  the  back  is  not 
quite  so  intense;  and  the  sides  under  the  wings  are  slightly 
barred  with  dusky. 

The  young  Woodcocks,  of  a  week  or  ten  days  old,  are 
covered  with  down  of  a  brownish  white  colour,  and  are 
marked  from  the  bill,  along  the  crown  to  the  hind-head, 
with  a  broad  stripe  of  deep  brown;  another  line  of  the  same 
passes  through  the  eyes  to  the  hind-head,  curving  under 
the  ej'e;  from  the  back  to  the  rudiments  of  the  tail  runs 
another  of  the  same  tint,  and  also  on  the  sides  under  the 
wings;  the  throat  and  breast  are  considerably  tinged  with 
rufous;  and  the  quills,  at  this  age,  are  just  bursting  from 
their  light  blue  sheaths,  and  appear  marbled  as  in  the  old 
birds;  the  legs  and  bill  are  of  a  pale  purplish  ash  colour, 
the  latter  about  an  inch  long.  When  taken,  they  utter  a 
long,  clear,  but  feeble,  peep,  not  louder  than  that  of  a  mouse. 
They  are  far  inferior  to  young  Partridges  in  running  and 
skulking;  and  should  the  female  unfortunately  be  killed, 
may  easily  be  taken  on  the  spot. 


INDIAN  HUNTERS. 

A  GOOD  hunter  is,  among  the  Indians,  as  much  distin- 
guished as  a  valiant  warrior,  and  is  always  more  wise  and  less 
depraved.  When  hunting,  every  Indian  is  attentive  to  his 
duty,  and  nothing  but  his  duty.  He  forgets  quarrelling, 
gaming,  (which  also  is  one  of  his  vices, )  and  even  his  ferocity. 
Some  of  the  traders,  who  follow  everyyear  in  their  train, have 
assured  me  that  the  winter  Indian  and  the  summer  Indian 
are  totally  different  beings.  During  summer,  he  is  always 
in  a  state  of  indolence,  which  degrades  and  brutifies  man  in 
his  most  civilized  and  best  educated  state:  the  winter  he 
passes  in  labour,  which  tames  and  softens  characters  the 
most  reckless  and  ferocious.  In  hunting,  the  Indians  are 
indefatigable,  though  engaged  in  exercise  incessant  and  most 
laborious;  and  the  success  with  which  they  pursue  their  vari- 
ous game  through  both  prairies  and  forests,  in  lakes  and  rivers, 
displays  strongly  the  acuteness  of  their  understandings. 

Beltrami. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


TREATISE    ON    BREAKING    DOGS. 


One  of  the  most  important  things  to  the  shooter  is  the 
possession  of  a  good  setter  or  pointer  Dog.  On  this  de- 
pends, in  a  great  measure,  his  pleasure  and  success — and 
this  necessary  auxiliary  to  his  recreations  is  within  the 
reach  of  every  man,  who  can  either  shoot  well,  or  will  give 
as  much  time  and  perseverance  as  the  subject  requires.  To 
break  a  Dog  properly,  it  is  necessary  to  possess  skill,  pa- 
tience, and  perseverance;  and  without  these  two  latter 
qualities,  it  will  be  useless  for  any  one  to  undertake  it.  It 
is  to  the  want  of  these  properties,  we  may  attribute  the  fact 
of  being  overrun  with  useless  or  half-broken  Dogs.  It  will 
be  well  for  every  young  sportsman  to  consider  this  subject 
properly,  and  to  make  himself  acquainted  with  every  rule 
necessary  to  the  attainment  of  this  grand  object;  and,  under 
these  considerations,  I  have,  by  consulting  various  authors, 
and  my  own  experience,  submitted  the  following  rules, 
which,  if  strictly  followed,  cannot  fail  to  complete  the 
education  of  a  Dog. 

In  choosing  a  Dog,  it  is  difficult  to  say  which  of  the  two 
breeds  is  best,  viz.  the  setter  or  pointer;  they  both  possess 
the  same  qualities,  and  the  choice  must  be  pretty  much  a 
matter  of  fancy.*     I  have  always  given  preference  to  the 

*  A  Dog  should  not  be  chosen  solely  for  his  capacity  to  stand  at  game,  as  this 
principle  is  not  always  confined  to  the  pointer  or  setter  Dog.  I  knew  a  Dog 
which  was  half  bull,  set  a  partridge  with  as  much  stanchness  as  any  setter  Dog; 
and  I  have  also  seen  a  hound,  and  spaniel,  do  the  same  thing;  and  Daniels,  in 
his  Rural  Sports,  makes  mention  of  a  celebrated  sow,  so  perfect  in  this  habit,  as 
to  rival  the  most  sagacious  pointer  or  setter. 


setter,  because  the  best  Dog  I  ever  owned,  or  saw,  was  a 
setter  Dog.  Others  give  preference  to  pointer  Dogs,  be- 
cause their  experience  warranted  the  same  determination. 
The  main  point,  however,  to  decide,  is,  whether  they  have 
descended  from  an  indubitable  stock;  this  ascertained,  the 
rest  depends  altogether  on  their  education.  Those  who 
favour  the  latter,  argue  that  they  possess  more  fleetness, 
bottom,  and  tractability,  and  can  withstand  the  fatigue  and 
heat  of  suinmer  without  water  better  than  setters.  To  this 
last  reason  I  cheerfully  subscribe,  but  the  former  I  doubt. 
The  setter  has  advantages  over  the  other  in  cold  weather, 
is  more  willing  to  enter  thickets  and  difficult  places,  and 
takes  to  water  more  freely,  and  possesses  an  equal  degree  of 
sagacity — however,  the  choice  being  made,  the  master 
should  procure  the  Dog  before  he  is  six  months  old.  This 
is  necessar}-,  in  order  to  give  liiin  all  the  advantages  of  an 
early  education,  and  is  of  more  importance  than  many  per- 
sons are  aware  of:  for  the  impressions  given  to  a  young 
Dog,  are  like  those  on  youth — the  strongest;  beside,  the 
Dog  is  growing  up  by  his  master's  side,  becomes  habituated 
to  his  actions,  language,  and  government,  and  gives  advan- 
tages, when  the  period  arrives  for  training  in  the  field, 
which  can  then  only  be  properly  appreciated.  Every 
sportsman  should  break  his  own  Dog.  This  is  of  the 
first  importance,  if  he  wishes  to  possess  a  good  one  and 
enjoy  comfort  while  hunting  him.  A  Dog  purchased  of  a 
stranger,  or  given  to  another  to  break,  has,  in  a  great  mea- 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


sure,  to  undergo  a  severe  training  and  a  second  course  of 
education,  wlien  he  comes  into  the  possession  of  his  new  mas- 
ter, before  he  is  habituated  to  this  master's  style — hence  the 
strong  necessity  of  every  sportsman  attending  to  the  educa- 
tion of  his  own  Dog.  To  this  circumstance  may  be  attri- 
buted the  reason,  why  many  gentlemen,  who,  being  de- 
lighted with  the  actions  of  strange  Dogs,  have  purchased 
them  at  extravagant  prices,  and  on  trial  of  these  Dogs,  sepa- 
rately from  their  original  owners,  have  proved  but  inferior 
animals;  and,  being  disgusted,  have  parted  with  them  im- 
mediately, at  any  price,  and  the  first  vender  cursed  as  a 
swindling  knave.  But  a  little  reflection  will  convince  any 
reasonable  person,  that  the  fault  is  neither  the  Dog's  nor 
the  original  owners,  but  is  entirely  owing  to  the  first  im- 
pressions, given  during  the  season  of  immaturity,  having 
been  so  radical  as  to  admit  of  no  alteration  by  the  second 
owner.  Few  Dogs  will  hunt  during  the  first  and  second 
year's  training,  so  well  with  a  stranger  as  with  the  man 
who  broke  them;  and  it  will  be  well  for  all  who  wish  to 
purchase  young  Dogs,  (no  matter  how  exalted  their  cha- 
racters,) to  try  them  separately  from  their  masters. 

Another  important  thing  is  worthy  of  great  consideration, 
and  this  is  the  impropriety  of  lending  Dogs — at  all  events, 
if  a  gentleman  has  feelings  of  generosity  sufiicient  to  oblige 
his  friend  in  this  way,  he  ought  never  to  do  so  until  after 
the  second  season  of  training;  for  it  is  not  until  this  period 
that  a  Dog  may  be  said  to  have  completed  his  education, 
or  that  his  impressions  are  deep-rooted.  The  practice  of 
lending  Dogs  is  certainly  a  bad  one,  and  frequently  the 
lent  Dog  is  injured  by  his  master's  generosity.  But  then 
this  description  of  sportsmen,  when  appealed  to,  argues  in 
himself — how  can  I  disoblige  my  friend?  I  have  enjoyed 
pleasure  with  my  Dog  and  gun;  he  has  none.  Shall  I  not 
contribute  to  him  the  same  means  of  enjoyment,  which  I 
have  used  myself  so  often?  But,  still,  I  fear  injury  to  my 
Dog.  And  then  reflecting  that  he  was  created  a  social 
being,  and  placed  in  circumstances  whereby  he  may  add, 
perhaps,  one  day  of  pleasure  to  his  importunate  friend,  he 
casts  off  the  unnatural  feelings  of  selfishness,  and  fulfils 
this  duty  of  social  life. 

I  do  not  recommend  that  a  Dog  should  be  loaned,  only 
under  particular  circumstances,  and  the  owner  may  do  so, 
by  proper  discrimination,  without  as  much  risk  of  injuring 
the  Dog,  as  the  chance  of  ofl'ending  his  friend,  or  bearing 
the  imputation  of  being  a  selfish  man. 

In  naming  a  Dog,  it  is  recommended  that  short  and  ex- 
pressive names,  (of  one  syllable,  if  possible,)  should  be 
adopted,  and  avoid  all  those  words  ending  in  o,  or  sounding 
like  the  words  used  in  training;  also,  to  adopt  other 
names  for  those  common-place  words  now  in  use,  as  great 
confusion  sometimes  prevails  in  consequence  of  two  or 
three  Dogs  hunting  together  which  are  named  alike.  I 
Ss 


once  had  the  prospect  of  a  fine  day's  shooting  entirely 
ruined  from  this  circumstance.  My  Dog  and  my  friend's 
being  named  so  much  alike,  that  the  former  kept  around 
my  heels  the  whole  day,  in  consequence  of  the  latter, 
(which  was  a  headstrong  dog,)  having  been  hallooed  at  con- 
tinually by  his  master. 

Supposing  now  your  Dog  is  six  months  old,  it  will  be 
necessary  that  he  should  follow  you  in  your  walks  abroad, 
and  repeatedly  taken  to  the  fields  and  suffered  to  race 
about,  and  enter  bushes  and  thickets,  and  chase  every  bird 
without  restraint.  This  will  give  him  spirit  and  anima- 
tion, which  will  continually  grow  on  him;  and  it  is  not  ad- 
visable to  check  or  speak  harshly  to  him,  but  encourage 
this  spirited  disposition  as  much  as  possible.  You  should 
always,  before  feeding  him,  make  him  crouch  at  your  feet, 
using,  at  the  same  time,  the  words,  "down,"  or  "  close," 
or  "  down  charge;"  or  it  is  better  to  habituate  him  to  do 
so,  by  raising  your  hand  and  saying  softly,  hush.  Endea- 
vour, at  all  times,  to  use  him  to  words  spoken  in  a  low 
voice,  as  some  future  day  will  convince  }-ou  of  the  neces- 
sity of  doing  so,  when  you  may  be  surrounded  with  scat- 
tered game — silence,  then,  will,  in  a  great  measure,  gua- 
rantee your  success,  and  these  early  lessons  will  have,  at 
that  period,  a  salutary  effect  on  him;  and,  as  a  reward  to 
his  obedience,  feed  him.  The  same  plan  may,  and  should 
be  used  to  learn  him  to  stand  at  a  piece  of  meat.  This 
should  be  done  by  using  the  word  "  toho.'"  This  simple 
word,  so  universally  known  and  adopted,  has  been  proved 
by  experience,  to  act  as  magic  on  the  instinct  of  the  setter 
and  pointer  Dogs;  and  it  is  doubtful  whether  another  word 
could  be  adopted  to  supply  its  place  with  the  same  success; 
therefore  it  should  be  very  early  engrafted  on  his  memory, 
as  it  is  the  most  important  of  the  very  few  words  necessary 
to  break  a  Dog.  If  he  is  brought  to  stand,  (and  a  very  few 
lessons  will  answer  the  purpose,)  give  him  the  meat  that  was 
before  him.  By  rewarding  a  3'oung  Dog  in  this  way,  with 
food,  he  may  be  learned  many  things,  and  it  is  well  worth 
the  trial  of  learning  him  to  bring  articles,  as  a  ball,  gloves, 
apples,  or  sticks;  and  always,  when  obedient,  reward  him 
with  food.  Idle  moments  may  be  frequently  spent  in  this 
way,  to  learn  a  young  Dog  a  variety  of  little  things  of  this 
kind;  not  that  these  things  are  intrinsically  valuable  in  them- 
selves, but  they  habituate  a  Dog  to  strict  obedience,  and 
the  sounds  and  actions  used  in  learning  him  these  little 
tricks  are  so  various  and  many,  and  he  becomes  so  familiar 
to  your  words  and  actions,  that  when  his  services  at  some 
future  day,  may  be  required  for  more  important  affairs,  his 
obedience  can  be  depended  on,  and  his  readiness  to  serve 
you  will,  in  a  measure,  become  mechanical,  because  he  has 
been  so  completely  schooled  to  your  expressions.  In  all 
your  endeavours,  at  this  age,  to  learn  him,  do  it  by  reward- 
ing; and  never,  (if  it  is  possible  for  you  to  avoid  it,)  chas- 


162 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY. 


tise  him.  This  can  be  done  if  the  tutor  will  be  patient. 
Chastisement  will  dispirit  and  frighten  a  young  Dog,  when 
the  opposite  treatment  will  make  him  love  and  obey  you. 
The  disposition  in  children  to  learn,  has  frequently  been 
checked,  if  not  destroyed,  by  severity;  and  disgust  to  the 
book  and  school  excited  by  harshness  on  the  part  of  the 
master;  therefore,  when  you  give  your  young  Dog  meat, 
make  him  halt  at  the  word  "  toho,"  before  he  is  suffered  to 
eat  it,  and  a  very  few  lessons,  in  this  wa}',  will  so  habituate 
him  to  that  expression,  that,  so  soon  as  he,  in  the  field,  sees 
another  Dog  standing  at  game,  will  understand  the  word 
when  you  remind  him  of  it.  The  capacity  of  a  young  Dog 
will  admit  of  much  instruction,  but  if  you  wish  your  instruc- 
tion to  be  effective,  in  things  pertaining  to  the  field,  you 
should  give  him  tuition  at  home  and  before  he  has  hunted  in 
company  with  another  Dog.  Many  persons  condemn  this 
plan,  as  being  different  altogether  from  the  duties  of  the 
field,  but  the  same  reasons  may  be  urged  against  the  neces- 
sity of  training  our  military  in  the  streets,  as  being  unlike 
the  field  of  war;  but  does  not  the  soldier  often  call  into  exer- 
cise, in  the  field  of  battle,  those  tactics  he  learned  at  home? 
It  is  in  consequence  of  many  persons,  neglect  of,  or  preju- 
dice against,  this  early  instruction,  that  many  Dogs  are  only 
half  what  they  might  have  been. 

We  now  suppose  your  Dog  to  be  nine  months  old;  he  is 
then  strong  and  has  attained  nearly  his  full  size,  and  at  the 
proper  age  to  commence  training  in  the  field.  He  should 
then  be  taken,  (if  possible,)  in  company  with  an  old,  well- 
broken  Dog,  without  the  gun,  until  he  acquires  the  habit  of 
ranging  pretty  well;  and  to  make  him  spirited,  he  should 
be  suffered  to  chase  the  birds  as  they  rise.  This  will  excite 
much  keenness  and  love  for  hunting,  as  well  as  a  disposition 
to  range  well.  It  is  all  important,  that  a  Dog  should  pos- 
sess great  spirit;  for  an  animal  of  this  kind  can  be  trained 
with  less  difficulty  and  more  satisfaction,  than  one  of  the 
contrary  disposition.  It  is  much  easier  to  check  an  impe- 
tuous Dog,  than  give  spirit  to  one  deficient  of  this  principle. 
When  you  find  that  your  young  Dog  is  sufficiently  keen 
after  game,  you,  moderately  and  by  gradual  means, 
should  check  him,  and  then  you  may  hunt  him  with  a  gun; 
and  as  this  is,  perhaps,  the  first  time  he  has  seen  or  heard  a 
gun  discharged,  it  may  have  the  effect  of  frightening  him 
from  you,  and  making  him  return  home.  This  sometimes 
proves  to  bean  unpleasant  and  unfortunate  circumstance,  as 
it  may  be  found  difficult  to  get  him  to  follow  you  to  the 
field  again,  should  you  have  a  gun  in  your  hand.  In  this 
case,  I  would  advise,  that  he  be  frequently  taken  to  the 
field,  and  tied  to  some  stake  or  tree,  and  having  provided  a 
pistol,  commence  firing  at  .some  distance  from  him,  gradually 
approaching  the  Dog  at  every  few  discharges,  until  you 
think  firing  immediately  over  him  will  not  materially  affect 
him.     It  is  proper,  also,  to  take  some  meat,  and,  at  every 


few  discharges,  pause,  feed,  and  caress  him.  At  first, 
in  all  probability,  he  will  make  several  eff'orts  to  escape,  but 
finding  them  unavailing,  he  will  lie  down  in  a  sullen  mood, 
until,  by  a  number  of  discharges,  he  becomes  regardless  of 
the  gun. 

This  plan  I  have  followed  successfully,  and  have  known 
others  to  do  so  too;  but  the  best  and  most  natural  plan, 
however,  is,  to  hunt  the  young  Dog  in  company  with  seve- 
ral others,  and  not  separately,  and  the  carelessness  of 
these  Dogs  to  the  report  of  the  gun,  will  give  him  confi- 
dence also;  and  a  few  hours  shooting  will  entirely  divest 
him  of  all  fear  of  the  gun. 

The  sportsman  should  not  fail  to  caress  him  at  every  fire, 
and  if  he  entertains  doubts  of  his  stability,  he  should  pro- 
vide a  small  quantity  of  meat  to  be  given  him.  This  will 
gain  his  confidence,  when  all  other  means  prove  fruitless, 
and  by  giving  him  the  birds  to  smell  and  mouth,  he  will 
get  an  insight  into  the  object  of  your  pursuit,  and  make  him 
familiar  to  the  scent  of  the  game  also.  This  is  an  impor- 
tant period  with  the  Dog,  and  the  master  should  by  no 
means  leave  it  unimproved;  for,  half  a  day  followed  up 
strictly  on  this  principle,  will  excite  spirit,  and  his  fear 
being  overcome,  he  will  take  pleasure  in  ranging  out  freely 
with  the  other  Dogs.  Many  young  Dogs,  at  this  time,  are 
ruined,  because  the  fear  which  takes  hold  of  a  Dog  sinks 
him  spiritless  to  the  ground,  or  deranges  him  for  the  time, 
when  anger  or  impatience  in  the  sportsman  causes  him  to 
treat  the  frightened  animal  with  undue  severity,  discour- 
ages him  from  further  hunting,  and  is  useless  ever  after. 

When  you  have  hunted  your  Dog  several  days,  the  style 
of  his  hunting  should  be  strictly  regarded  by  you,  as  of  the 
next  importance.  If  he  ranges  with  his  head  high  and  nose 
well  up,  there  will  be  no  difficulty  in  breaking  him  to  your 
mind;  but  if,  on  the  contrary,  he  should  hunt  with  his  nose 
to  the  ground,  in  a  manner  as  if  trailing  game,  the  sports- 
man will  have  many  difficulties  to  surmount  before  he  can 
break  him  of  this  habit.  Every  effort,  however,  should  be 
made  to  correct  it;  for  a  Dog  of  this  kind  will  frequently 
flush  game  before  he  can  possibly  scent  it,  owing  to  the  cir- 
cumstance of  his  nose  being  confined  in  the  grass  and  stub- 
ble, and  following  the  trail  of  the  birds.  Game  always 
become  restless,  and  will  generally  take  wing,  if  an  object 
which  pursues  them  follows  directly  in  their  wake;  and 
this  is  the  case  with  all  Dogs  which  hunt  nose  down. 

But  it  is  different  with  a  Dog  that  ranges  with  a  high 
head,  as  birds,  when  they  find  a  Dog  pass  backwards  and 
forwards  promiscuously,  will  either  rest  quiet  or  merely 
endeavour  to  avoid  them  by  running,  and  do  not  appear 
alarmed  so  long  as  the  Dog  will  keep  from  trailing  them. 
Beside,  it  gives  this  Dog  a  greater  superiority  over  the 
other,  for  the  reason  that  all  effluvium  ascends  and  is  scat- 
tered more  or  les.s,   according  to  tiie  temperature  of  the 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


atmosphere,  sometimes  spreading  over  a  considerable  sur- 
face: therefore,  when  a  Dog  by  ranging  witli  a  high  head, 
enters  the  area  of  this  effluvium,  his  olfactory  nerves  detect 
the  course  whence  it  proceeds,  and  then  his  sphere  of 
ranging  contracts  gradually,  until  it  becomes  a  gentle, 
straight-forward  trot,  and  by  a  final  stop  marks  the  spot 
where  the  game  lies  concealed.  Effluvium,  like  smoke, 
ascends  rapidly  or  skims  the  surface  of  the  ground,  accord- 
ing to  the  density  or  rarit}^  of  the  air,  and  should  the  wind 
be  blowing  gently  on  damp  and  lowering  days,  or  when 
the  atmosphere  is  dense,  a  Dog  that  ranges  with  his  nose 
well  up,  will  smell  or  receive  this  effluvium  at  a  most  asto- 
nishing distance:  and  this  explains  the  great  difference 
which  is  manifested  frequently  by  the  same  Dog.  There- 
fore, the  advantage  of'this  description  of  Dogs  over  the  for- 
mer, is  so  great,  that  it  is  worth  every  experiment  to  make 
a  Dog  hunt  with  his  nose  well  up.  And  to  effect  this,  it  is 
necessary  that  whenever  your  Dog  shows  a  disposition  to 
put  his  nose  to  the  ground,  he  should  be  spoken  to  sharply, 
"  hold  up,"  and  repeated  angrily  every  time  he  acts  in  this 
way.  This  will  make  him  uneasy,  and  generally  break 
him  from  a  sneaking  walk  or  trot  into  a  handsome  canter, 
and  frequent  repetition  of  this  scolding  will  generally  pro- 
duce the  desired  effect.  But  should  simple  means,  like 
these,  prove  unavailing,  after  a  fair  and  patient  trial,  the 
sportsman  must  resort  to  a  more  severe  measure;  and  this 
will  be  the  application  of  the  "puzzle-peg,"  or  more  pro- 
perly, the  "muzzle-peg."*  The  advantage  of  this  instru- 
ment is,  to  prevent  the  Dog  from  putting  his  nose  to  the 
ground,  and  when  hunting  in  high  grass  or  stubble,  by  rea- 
son of  its  continually  catching  the  weeds,  &.C.,  creates  so 
much  uneasiness  to  the  Dog,  that  he  will  be  obliged  to  keep 
his  head  high,  in  order  to  avoid  these  troublesome  objects; 
and  a  few  hours,  on  several  days,  will  give  him  a  habit  of 
ranging  with  his  nose  up,  and  if,  while  in  this  position,  he 
should  be  brought  to  scent  and  stand  game,  his  instinct  will 
soon  point  out  the  superior  manner  of  the  two,  and  he  will 
most  likely  ever  after  follow  it,  for  most  of  the  sagacious 
traits  in  Dogs  are  the  effect  of  experience. 


*  The  "  muzzle-peg"  is  a  piece  of  pine  wood,  in 
shape  like  the  figure,  of  about  three  fourths  of  an 
inch  in  thickness,  and  two  and  a  half  inches  broad 
at  one  end,  to  taper  down  to  about  one  and  a  hall 
inches  to  the  other  end,  and  of  sufficient  length  to 
pass  from  the  Dog's  throat,  under  his  jaw,  eight 
inches  beyond  his  nose.  The  broad  end  should 
be  fastened  to  a  strap,  in  order  to  buckle  round 
his  neck;  and  the  smaller  end  fastend  inside  or 
behind  his  lower  tusks,  by  means  of  a  buckskin 
cord.  This  instrument  will  put  the  Dog  to  much 
inconvenience,  at  first,  and  he  will  try  his  best  to 
rid  himself  of  it  J  but  finding  hisefibrts  unavailing, 
will  follow  quietly  after  you  for  some  time,  but 
will  soon  become  accustomed  to  it,  and  then  range  abou 


It  should  always  be  the  sportsman's  peculiar  care,  to 
keep  his  Dog  steady  at  his  work,  and  never  suffer  him  to 
loiter  about,  or  stand  gazing  at  the  other  Dogs.  But  to 
effect  this,  it  is  necessary  that  the  sportsman  himself  be 
active  and  persevering;  for  if  the  master  will  loiter  and  idle 
his  time  by  sitting  on  a  stump  or  fence,  it  is  natural  to  sup- 
pose that  in  the  early  stages  of  training,  the  Dog  will  follow 
his  example,  either  by  resting  in  the  field  or  at  his  master's 
feet,  or  stand  gazing  at  him  or  the  other  Dogs:  therefore 
give  force  to  your  precepts  by  examples  of  industry,  and 
whenever  your  Dog  shows  a  disposition  to  lag,  or  smell  the 
ground  for  small  birds  or  ground  mice,  speak  out  to  him 
sharply — "holdup!"  "take  care,  sirrah!"  This  will  be 
sufficient  to  answer  every  purpose.  I. 


FINAL  ANSWER  TO  I.  T.  S. 

Gextlemen, 

I  will  not  occupy  much  of  your  space  in  replying  to  the 
last  communication  of  I.  T.  S.  The  subject  of  contro- 
versy between  us  can  never,  I  apprehend,  be  satisfactorily 
decided  by  rules  of  philosophy,  or  correctly  illustrated  by 
diagram.  The  practice  of  the  sportsman  must,  in  the  end, 
determine  him,  and  his  deliberation  and  judgment  alone, 
render  him  proficient  in  the  art.  If,  in  my  argument  in  a 
former  number,  with  reference  to  the  diagram  of  I.  T.  S., 
I  adopted  a  mode  of  reasoning  which  he  supposes  irrelevant 
to  the  case,  I  regret  it  as  sincerely  as  himself;  as  it  was  not 
my  wish  to  misapprehend  him.  Upon  a  review,  however, 
of  that  argument,  and  applying  it  to  his  late  illustration  of 
the  subject,  I  find  so  little  reason  for  retraction,  that  I  am 
willing  to  go  with  him  from  his  own  starting  place,  and  let 
his  principle  commence  at  the  precise  point  of  time  he 
wishes.  It  is  in  the  latitude  of  time  which  j^our  corres- 
pondent allows  for  the  passage  of  the  contents  of  the  gun 
to  its  object,  that  Ins  great  mistake  lies;  and  when  he  takes 
as  his  ground-work,  the  same  time  for  the  effect  of  the  shot 
on  passing  from  the  muzzle,  as  for  the  flight  of  the  bird  in 
87  feet,  he  cannot  expect  to  build  upon  it  a  system  of  rea- 
soning convincing  or  satisfactory  to  your  readers.  The 
precise  period  of  time  consumed  in  the  passage  of  the  con- 
tents of  a  gun  to  the  object,  cannot  be  correctly  determined; 
but  admitting,  as  I.  T.  S.  does,  in  practical  shooting,  that 
six  inches  allowance  is  necessary  for  a  duck  in  his  ordinary 
flight,  at  sixtv  yards  distance,  and  supposing  the  duck  to 
fly  at  the  rate  of  87  feet  in  the  second;  it  follows  that  but 
the  1 74th  part  of  a  second  would  elapse  for  the  effect  of  the 
shot,  from  the  first  touch  of  the  trigger.     And  supposing, 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


again,  a  sensible  interval  of  time  to  ensue  after  the  finger 
begins  to  press  the  trigger,  before  the  load  issues  from  the 
barrel,  does  it  not  seem  evident,  that  were  that  interval 
sunk  by  placing  the  load  at  the  muzzle,  when  bearing  full 
on  the  object,  that  the  discharge  and  effect  must  be  so  nearly 
simultaneous,  as  hardly  to  admit  of  a  perceptible  difference 
in  time?  Now,  going  upon  the  principle  that  I  support, 
of  "  keeping  up  the  swing  of  the  gun,  in  proportion  to  the 
flight  of  the  bird,"  and  not  altering  its  bearing  upon  it 
when  pulling  trigger,  the  load  is  always,  as  it  were,  kept  at 
tlie  muzzle  of  the  gun.  No  time  being  lost  in  the  passage 
of  the  contents  from  the  breech  or  in  pulling  trigger,  and 
allowing  a  certain  lateral,  in  connexion  with  the  forward 
force  of  the  shot,  and  several  feet  for  its  spread,  it  appears 
almost  impossible,  with  good  cover  or  aim,  for  a  bird  ever 
to  escape.  The  mode  of  shooting  in  advance,  I  am  aware, 
is  practised  by  many  sportsmen,  but  it  appears  to  be,  as  I 
before  observed,  the  consequence  of  habit  and  confirmed 
prejudice,  and,  in  a  great  measure,  attributable  to  the  fact 
of  the  swing  of  the  gun  being  stopped  at  the  time  of  pulling 
trigger,  thereby  rendering  a  certain  allowance  necessary. 
At  best,  it  is  but  a  very  uncertain  mode  of  shooting,  and 
liable  to  too  much  discretionary  exercise,  which  the  ardour 
of  the  sportsman  seldom  admits  of,  and  which  can  never  be 
relied  on  in  emergencies.  Let  I.  T.  S.  but  try  the  experi- 
ment of  shooting  on  my  plan,  on  his  next  excursion  to  the 
Chesapeake,  and  I  feel  assured  he  will  never  again  i-esort  to 
his  own.  I  have  conversed  with  many  of  our  best  shots  on 
the  subject,  who  all  decidedly  coincide  with  me  in  my 
views.  I  was  much  amused  with  the  reply  of  an  old 
sportsman,  (a  man  who  follows  shooting  for  a  living,  and, 
than  whom  few  better  shots  can  be  found,)  to  a  question 
put  to  him,  as  to  his  mode  of  directing  the  gun.  He  had 
just  come  out  of  the  marsh,  covered  with  mud  and  mire, 
and  with  the  best  evidence  of  his  success — a  bag  full  of 
game.  "  B.,"  said  I,  "  were  a  duck  to  pass  you  at  fifty  or 
sixty  yards  distance,  it  is  more  than  probable  you  could  kill 
it."  "  I  think  so."  '«  Tell  me,  now,  in  taking  j'our  aim, 
how  much  headway  would  you  give;  six  inches  or  a  foot?" 
"Headway,"  replied  he  smiling;  "why,  as  for  that,  I 
think  I  might  kill  it  as  soon  by  giving  it  a  foot  ahead  as  a 
foot  behind." 

The  subject  having  now  been  viewed  in  all  its  different 
bearings,  I  am  satisfied  to  leave  it  to  sportsmen  to  pronounce 
on  the  merits  of  our  respective  modes;  and,  on  closing, 
cannot  but  express  my  gratification  at  the  courtesy  and  for- 
bearance which  has  been  manifested  by  your  correspondent 
throughout  this  discussion,  and  the  candour  with  which  he 
has  admitted  or  acknowledged  the  correctness  and  force  of 
my  argument,  when  convinced  in  his  mind  of  its  truth. 

SPORTSMAN. 


Count  de  Launay's 
DESCRIPTION  OF  A  FOX  HUNT. 

Sir — By  my  vord,  Mr.  Redacteur,  I  voud  me  much 
relate  von  vare  great  chasse  I  have  me  just  vitnessed  avec 
des  chiens  de  Monsieur  Craving,  at  the  chateau  ol  mi  Lor 
Chichester,  von  league  from  this  ville. 

I  vas  me  sitting  at  mine  dejeune  ce  matin  ven  I  view 
von  gentlemans  ride  past  upon  a  vite  cheval,  vit  him  a 
coleure  de  rouge  coat  on,  and  von  long  vip  in  him  hand. 
Vat  for  dis  gentleman  coat  ?  I  demande  of  de  vaiter  ;  shall 
it  be  de  king?  "No,  sare,"  said  he,  "it  be  Monsieur 
Jacque  Bunco  going  a  honting." — "  Vot  him  hunt?"  said 
I. — "  De  Fox,"  said  he.  "Ah  de  Renard  !  I  have  me 
moch  heard  of  this  hont  de  Renard  in  Angleterre  ;  I  most 
me  certainly  go.  I  vill  me  get  my  pistolets  tout  suite." — 
"You  must  have  an  orse,"  said  the  vaiter.  "Certaine- 
ment  !  "  said  I  ;  "  a  vite  orse  same  as  Monsieur  Bunce  :  " 
but  the  stoopid  vellow  got  me  von  black,  at  vich  I  vas 
much  enrage,  as  I  thought  I  vood  be  ridicule,  for  I  did  me 
see  another  gentlemans  on  a  vite  orse  same  as  Monsieur 
Bunce  ;  and  de  stoopid  vellow  brought  von  saddle  sans 
chose  pour  les  pistolets,  and  so  being  in  moch  hurry  I  did 
me  pot  them  in  mine  surtout  poche." 

A  great  fracas  vas  at  my  behind,  and  ven  I  look  me 
round  I  shall  find  von  fine  English  lady  attired  in  rouge 
and  blue,  gallop  along  de  street  in  moch  haste,  and  anoder 
gentlemans  on  anoder  vite  cheval  same  as  Monsieur  Bunce 
gallop  vit  her,  and  him  had  rouge  on  also. 

At  de  chateau  varc  many  peoples  had  come,  and  a  large 
flock  of  dogs,  and  two  gentlcmens  in  rouge  habits  and  black 
bonnets,  who  vere  grand  chasseurs  under  JNIonsieur  Crav- 
ing, de  grand  maitre  de  chiens. — "  Ou  est  votre  mousquet  ? 
vere  is  3'our  musket  ?  "  said  I  to  von  of  these  gentlemens, 
but  he  touch  him  bonnet  and  said  noting.  Then  com  Mon- 
sieur Craving,  and  they  both  did  de  same  to  him.  "  How 
be  de  vind,  George  ?  "  said  he  to  the  grossest  von  ;  "  shall 
ve  have  moch  scent  to-day  ?  " — "  De  vind  be  in  de  East," 
said  George,  "  but  I  think  de  scent  may  do." — "  Vill  you 
accept  som  scent  from  me  ? "  said  I  to  George,  offering 
him  von  flacon.  "  Be  it  gin  ?  "  said  he.  "No,  not  gin, 
but  bouquet  du  Roi,  vare  fine  scent,  trois  franc  cinque  sous 
per  bouteille."  By  my  vord  the  stoopid  dem  vellow  he 
did  him  drink  de  perfume,  and  then  he  spit  it  out. 

"  Ve  shall  go,"  said  Monsieur  Craving  ;  and  avay  ve  all 
vent  in  moch  speed.  "Vere  de  Renard  ?  vere  de  Renard  ?" 
I  demanded.  "  Hold  your  jaw  !  "  said  von  gentlemans  in 
dc  bonnet,  "  you  vill  make  him  steal  away." — "  Ah,  him 
steal  moch  poulet,  moch  turque,  n'est-ce-pas  ?  de  same  in 
France,  de  same  in  France  ;  him  vare  great  voleur  ;  I  shall 
him  shoot,  I  shall  him  shoot  !  " 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


"  De  gentleman  be  mad,"  said  Monsieur  Craving,  ven  I 
produced  my  pistolet.  "  Hav  a  care,  George,  he  vill  him- 
self shoot." — "  Pas  de  tout !  pas  de  tout !  I  vill  me  shoot 
de  Renard  sans  doute,  but  not  non  myself."  Just  den  dere 
vas  great  scream — Oh  dear  !  him  poor  gentlemans  be  moch 
hurt  I  fear. — "  Gone  avay  !  gone  avay  !  forvard  !  forvard  ! 
hoop  !  hoop  !  tallivo  !  tallivo  !  "  shouted  Monsieur  Crav- 
ing and  all  de  other  gentlemens  :  some  blew  a  trumpet, 
and  de  flock  of  dogs  came  up  howling  and  barking.  "  Old 
hard  !  "  said  Monsieur  Craving,  "  old  hard  !  Pray,  sare, 
do  you  think  you  can  catch  de  Fox  yourself?"  said  he. 
"  I  vill  me  try,"  said  I,  "  but  vere  him  be  ?  " — "  Dere  him 
go,"  said  Monsieur  Bunce,  as  de  dogs  began  to  howl  vonce 
more,  and  all  de  gentlemens  gallop  after  them.  "  I  vill  be 
first,"  I  said.  So  I  charge  de  whole  flock  of  dogs,  and 
knocked  over  three  of  dem.  Oh  how  dem  swore  because 
I  beat  dem  all  !  Then  ve  got  to  end  of  vood,  and  I  thought 
de  Renard  should  him  come  back  again  ;  but  Monsieur 
Bunce  he  jomped  a  gate,  and  then  look  back  at  me,  and 
said,  "now,  you  tinker,  catch  dem  if  you  can."  De  gate 
vas  open,  and  I  gallop  along  in  great  haste,  for  ve  vare  all 
in  moch  hurry ;  but  I  arrive  at  von  vare  large  fosse,  and  de 
lady  in  rouge  demande  voud  I  take  it?  "  Si  vous  plait, 
madame  :  "  and  I  spur  mine  orse,  but  de  stoopid  bete  tom- 
bled  into  it ;  and  voud  you  believe  it,  but  de  lady  jomp 
over  it  and  me  and  my  orse  ? 

"  Pick  up  de  pieces,"  said  von  gentlemans  as  he  passed 
by.  "Vot,  old  poy,  are  you  floored  already?"  said  anoder. 
<'Com  to  me,  and  I  vill  help  you  up,"  said  a  third,  as  him 
gallop  along.  Indeed  they  all  make  some  compliment  as 
they  pass  ;  but  my  orse  him  manage  to  get  up,  and  I 
found  I  should  not  be  much  damage;  so  I  gallop  again  over 
de  soft  grass  for  great  distance,  mine  orse  blowing  vare 
moch. 

"  This  dem  Fox  will  never  stop,"  I  said  :  "  by  my  vord 
it  is  quite  ridicule  riding  after  him  in  this  stoopid  manner  ; 
he  will  surely  never  dare  find  his  way  back  to  mi  Lor  Chi- 
chester's poulets  ;  so  vy  should  ve  fatigue  us  to  hont  him 
any  further." 

"  Shov  along,  ye  skrew,"  said  a  gentlemans,  vondering 
at  vot  I  vos  stop;  "  de  Fox  is  sinking." — "Vothim  no 
svim  ?  but  vere  de  vater  ?  " — "  Dere  he  go,  up  de  hill," 
said  he  ;  but  how  de  Fox  could  sink  up  de  hill  I  could  me 
not  discover  ;  but  Monsieur  George  make  moch  noise,  as 
did  IVIonsieur  Craving  and  all  de  oder  gentlemens  ;  and  at 
last  I  saw  de  dogs  overtake  de  Renard  near  von  vood.  He 
vas  kill,  but  Monsieur  George  took  him  up  and  vip  de  dogs 
avay,  and  all  de  gentlemens  got  off  orse  and  valk  about  ; 
and  Monsieur  Craving  com  to  me  and  said,  «  Sare,  you 
vare  near  kill  my  best  hound,  but  make  me  de  pleasure  to 
accept  de  broosh." — "  Thank  you,  sare  ?  "  said  I  ;  "  but  I 
T  t 


should  prefere  von  comb,"  parceque  mine  hair  vas  moch 
disorder  ;  and  Monsieur  Craving  laugh  and  say,  "it  be  de 
Fox's  broosh  I  ofier  you  sare  ;  you  have  rode  vare  veil, 
and  I  am  moch  think  you  will  make  von  vare  fine  spors- 
man."  But  I  say  to  him,  "I  thank  you,  Monsieur  Crav- 
ing, for  dis  compliment ;  but,  by  my  vord,  your  English 
hont  de  Renard  is  much  ridicule  :  j'ou  have  now  com 
trois  league  after  dis  dem  animal,  tired  your  horse,  dirty 
your  breeches,  tore  your  habit,  throw  mod  in  my  face,  and 
ven  you  catch  de  creature  you  give  him  to  de  dog.  If 
you  desire  a  Renard,  set  von  trap,  and  catch  him  by  de  leg, 
or  let  Monsieur  George  shoot  him  vit  de  mousquet  as  him 
com  out  of  de  vood,  but  never  give  yourself  de  trouble  of 
honting  him  in  this  fashion." 

But  Monsieur  Craving  him  laugh  moch,  and  say,  "  Sare, 
I  tink  you  shall  not  comprehend  our  sport." — "Perhaps 
not,"  I  say,  "because  I  shall  not  tink  it  sport :  derefore  I 
vill  you  vish  bon  jour." — Your  vare  obedient  and  vare 
humble  servant,  C DE  LAUNAY. 


PIGEON  SHOOTING, 

(by  the  new  tore  club.) 

Op  all  the  themes  that  writers  ever  chose 
To  try  their  wits  upon  in  verse  or  prose, 
A  Pigeon-shootiiig  match  would  surely  be 
The  last  selected  for  sweet  poesy. 
But  having  made  this  choice,  proceed  we  now, 
Despite  the  frown  that  sits  on  any  brow. 
In  airy  nothings  we  take  no  delight, 
A  vision  is  no  more,  however  bright; 
No  fancied  pictures  you  will  here  behold, 
Plain  truth,  rough  hewn,  alone,  these  lines  unfold. 

"We  now  are  on  the  ground;  come,  let  us  see. 
Where  shall  we  stand?  why  faith,  beneath  this  tree; 
Here,  sheltered  from  the  sun,  the  breezes  court, 
And  pleasantly  enjoy  this  old  mens'  sport." 
Behold  the  trapper  ofi"  with  shoes  and  coat, 
While  anxious  D***s  opens  wide  his  throat. 
And  roars,  comeM****ll!  B****s!  H****n!  come, 
Let's  make  a  match  for  any  modest  sum. 
But  S**  v*******n  swears  he  won't  agree 
Unless  the  pigeons  are  as  big  as  he. 
I***c  C**t**t  is  willing  to  go  in 
If  their  good  landlord  buys  of  him  his  gin. 
R***r  will  shoot  a  match  (oh,  the  great  gods!) 
With  any  one  who  gives  him  lots  of  odds. 
Then  M*«***n  oflers  B-^'^^^^^y  a  bet. 
One  out  of  ten,  which  makes  the  old  man  fret. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


"  Fa  know  I  cannot  do  '/,  and  Jarvis,  tew, 

"And  if  I  could,  why  hang  me  if  I  deiv." 

W**d  is  content,  (a  good,  kind-hearted  soul,) 

Either  to  shoot,  or  help  to  drain  a  bowl. 

Whilst  honest  H****s  shouts,  "Confound  my  eyes! 

Let's  go  to  work!  such  humbugs  I  despise." 

At  length  a  match  is  made,  six  on  a  side; 

And  now  to  kill  his  birds  is  each  man's  pride. 

J.  M****ll  first  advances  to  the  scratch, 

A  gunner,  whom  'tis  pretty  hard  to  match. 

"I'm  ready — pull!"  away  the  pigeon  flies. 

The  gun  's  discharged,  and  it  as  certain  dies. 

Next  quick-eyed  B**'  's  steps  into  his  place, 

A  man  whose  shooting  can  no  one  disgrace. 

He  kills  his  bird,  and  laughs  to  see  it  fall, 

Because  it  flew  as  though  not  struck  at  all. 

There,  with  a  single  gun,  goes  A****w  H*****!!; 

The  bird  is  off — it  falls  as  dead  as  mutton. 

"  Of  that  I  was  quite  sure — I  knew  she  'd  kill, 

"Just  hold  her  strait,  and  she'll  do  what  you  will." 

Now  comes  V*******n,  many  call  him  S*m, 

A  worthy  fellow,  with  a  deal  of  whim, 

"  Is  that  bird  fat?"  he  asks,  "  which  way  's  his  head? 

"I  want  to  have  a  chance  to  shoot  him  dead. 

"There,  let  him  go — I'm  ready!"  out  it  tumbles, 

He  kills  it  coming,  then  at  the  trapper  grumbles, 

"  Why  don't  you  mind?  I  want  the  bird  thrown  higher, 

"Do  so  again,  and  damme  if  I  fire." 

And  now  left-handed  R***r  toes  the  mark, 

A  better  creature  ne'er  saw  Noah's  ark. 

He  shuffles  at  the  score,  uplifts  his  gun. 

Sharply  cries  "Pull!"  and  then  the  work  is  done. 

The  bird  has  scarcely  time  to  leave  the  spot 

Before  he  feels  the  effect  of  patent  shot. 

The  shooter  then,  with  length  of  back  opprest, 

Stooping,  turns  round,  and  brings  his  gun  to  rest. 

Then  B***n  W*«d  the  scratch  approaching  slow, 

Says,  "I  can't  shoot;"  unwilling  seems  to  go. 

At  length  he  says,  «  I'm  ready,  pull  the  string!" 

The  bird  is  loos'd,  his  gun  is  heard  to  ring. 

The  inoffensive  pigeon  thinks  to  fly. 

But,  like  too  many  more,  is  doomed  to  die. 

"  'Twas  all  an  accident,"  the  gunner  says. 

But  men  will  lie  in  these  degenerate  days. 

While  pious  F*****k  cries,  "  if  thus  you  serve  us, 

"  From  all  such  accidents  may  God  preserve  us!" 

Next  I.  C**t**t,  with  broad  good  natur'd  face, 

His  eye  upon  his  lock,  assumes  his  place, 

Says  calmly,  "  I  am  ready,  let  him  go;" 

The  pigeon  says,  I  will,  the  gun  says  no! 


A  fair  and  honest  chance  the  bird  receives, 
But  the  fell  shot  too  sure  his  body  cleaves. 
Thirty  or  forty  yards  he  gets  away. 
Then  takes  a  last  farewell  of  the  bright  day. 
And  now  the  name  of  B*****y  is  bawl'd. 
Or  English  tvhitehead,  as  by  some  he's  call'd. 
Up  to  the  score  he  moves  with  little  ease, 
"I'm  reedy,  sir,  now  let  go  when  ya  please." 
The  obedient  trapper,  to  his  duty  true, 
Pull'd  on  the  string,  away  the  pigeon  flew; 
His  big-bored  gun  re-echoes  o'er  the  field. 
And  the  poor  bird  is  forced  his  life  to  yield. 
Now  J***b  S******d,  quiet,  easy  soul, 
Is  call'd,  as  being  next  upon  the  roll; 
He  comes  directly,  asks  where  he  shall  stand, 
Then  firmly  puts  his  foot  upon  the  sand, 
"There,  let  un  go!  I'll  kill  un  sure  as  death. " 
His  word  's  his  bond,  the  bird  's  depriv'd  of  breath. 
A  truer  aim  at  pigeons  few  men  take, 
And  a  real  crack  shot  he  no  doubt  will  make. 
Next  in  rotation  see  J.  H****s  come, 
A  real  good  fellow,  any  thing  but  grum; 
Lively  and  hearty,  honest  as  the  day. 
Which,  for  a  Yorkshireman,  is  much  to  say; 
Half  through  his  nose  he  bids  the  trapper  "  pull !" 
High  the  bird  flies,  with  shot  he  fills  him  full; 
Laughing,  he  leaves  the  scratch,  despite  the  slaughter, 
Goes  to  the  bar,  and  calls  for  gin  and  water. 
Then  R.  B.  F*****k,  with  his  roguish  look, 
Stepp'd  from  the  crowd,  and  strait  his  station  took; 
The  trap  is  open'd,  up  the  pigeon  mounts. 
And  soon  the  blood  flows  from  its  vital  founts. 
Last  comes  the  cook,  by  some  call'd  blund'ring  D***s, 
By  all  who  know  him  thought  a  rara  avis. 
Dearly  he  loves  the  poet  and  his  song, 
Always  means  right,  though  mostly  doing  wrong. 
He  tells  the  trapper  to  let  go  his  bird — 
'Tis  done — and  yet  no  gun's  report  is  heard: 
For  he  a  borrow'd  instrument  had  got. 
Whose  trigger  went  too  hard — he  lost  his  shot 
Theoutscouts  now  are  heard,  bang!  bang!  pop!  pop! 
But  the  freed  pigeon  is  not  seen  to  drop; 
Over  the  fields  and  woods  he  flies  along. 
They  stare  and  swear  that  one  poor  bird  is  gone. 
Thus  they  go  on,  and  shoot  at  ten  birds  each; 
Some  they  knock  down,  while  some  fly  out  of  reach. 
Now  one  gun  snaps,  another  misses  fire. 
Which  make  their  owners  grumble  loud  in  ire; 
At  length  they  're  through — the  clerk  is  ask'd  to  say 
Which  contending  squad  has  won  the  day. 


AND  AJIERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


This  being  ascertained,  the  winners  smile, 
But  with  no  taunting  jibes  their  mouths  defile. 
Then  to  the  house  resort,  (except  some  stickers,) 
And  there  regale  them  with  the  INIajor's"  liquors. 

D.  J. 


•  Major  Rose,  who  formerly  kept  llie  tavern  on  the  ground  where  the  Xe 
Pigeon  Club  shot  their  matches. 


PROSPECT  OF  GAIME. 

The  season  for  shooting  Woodcocks  will  open  on  the 
5th  of  July,  according  to  law,  but  the  work  of  destruction 
has  already  commenced  in  the  neighbourhood  of  this  city, 
and  some  parts  of  New  Jersey.  The  birds,  however,  are 
small,  and  poor,  and  can  only  be  valued  for  the  sport  of 
hunting  them,  and  not  for  their  fitness  for  the  table.  The 
season,  thus  far,  has  been  favourable  to  the  increase  of  this 
species  of  game,  which  indeed  appears  to  be  more  plentiful 
than  for  many  preceding  years,  there  being  scarcely  a  spot 
of  ground  adapted  to  the  habits  of  the  Woodcock,  which 
does  not  contain  them. 

This  is  a  fortunate  thing  for  our  sportsmen,  whose  regret 
at  the  severities  of  the  past  winter  will  find  some  allevia- 
tion in  being  able  to  pursue  this  bird  in  anticipation  of 
the  usual  fall's  sport  after  quails — and  I  would  here  most 
strenuously  advise  my  fellow  sportsmen,  especially  those 
whose  impatience  mostly  outweighs  their  prudence — to  let 
the  season  for  woodcock  and  rail  suffice  them  for  the  year, 
and  in  no  instance  during  the  approaching  fall,  destroy 
quails — one  winter's  protection  to  these  birds,  will  repair, 
in  a  great  measure,  the  havoc,  which  the  protracted  snows 
of  the  past  winter  have  made  on  this  favourite  game,  and 
the  foresight  and  prudence  of  one  year  will  advance  the 
means  of  recreation  two-fold. 

I  am  pleased  to  say,  and  it  may  be  satisfactory  to  many 
sportsmen  to  know,  that  there  is  yet  a  remnant  of  quails 
in  existence,  which  has  been  cherished  either  by  some 
friendly  hand,  or  the  vigorous  constitutions  of  the  birds 
have  buffeted  the  inclemencies  of  a  winter  unprecedented 
in  its  severities.  Through  the  middle  and  lower  part  of 
New  Jersey,  as  far  as  Cape  INIay,  an  occasional  "  Boh 
White"  may  be  heard,  and  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Phi- 
ladelphia, and  counties  adjacent,  as  well  as  other  States, 
this  bird  is  also  heard. 

I  was  informed  that  a  gentleman,  during  the  latter  part 
of  this  spring,  who  was  standing  in  front  of  his  house, 
which  borders  the  river  Delaware,  a  few  miles  above  this  city, 
observed  some  unusual  appearance  in  the  water,  and  seem- 
ed like  a  number  of  rats  swimming  to  the  shore;  on  approach- 


ing the  spot,  however,  he  discovered  it  to  be  a  covey  of 
quails,  which  had,  no  doubt,  attempted  to  pass  from  Jersey 
to  Pennsylvania,  but,  by  reason  of  the  width  of  the  river, 
they  were  unable  to  do  so,  and  settling  in  the  water,  were 
obliged  to  make  up  the  deficiency  in  their  flight  by  swim- 
ming; through  wet  and  fatigue  they  were  nearly  exhausted, 
but  a  few  minutes  rest  recruited  their  strength,  and  enabled 
them  to  continue  their  migration. 

This  circumstance,  in  some  measure,  accounts  for  the 
reason,  why,  during  harvest,  and  until  the  middle  of  Sep- 
tember, the  region  about  Philadelphia  has  hitherto  been 
so  plentifully  sprinkled  with  coveys  of  quails — for,  being 
of  a  rich  soil,  and  aflbrding  abundant  food,  it  invites  the 
migration  of  these  birds  from  New  Jersey,  and  which 
remain  with  us  until  the  farmers  plough  their  ground  again 
for  the  winter's  grain,  when  the  means  of  subsistence  being 
in  a  great  measure  destroyed,  they  commence  running 
until  the  Delaware  impedes  their  progress,  over  which 
they  fly  in  accumulated  numbers,  to  spend  the  winter  in 
Jersey;  the  soil  of  the  latter  place  not  being  able  to  sus- 
tain the  same  degree  of  cultivation  as  the  former,  much 
food  and  cover  for  the  quails  consequently  remain,  and 
hither  they  resort  until  the  subsequent  spring.  M. 

Philada.  June  27,  1831. 


SHOOTING  MATCH. 

Ax  interesting  Pigeon  match,  for  Five  Hundred  Dollars 
a  side,  was  decided  on  Wednesday,  June  22d,  1S31,  at 
Cornell's  near  Bristol,  Pa.  The  parties  were  Messrs. 
T.  P.  G.  and  J.  L.,  of  Philadelphia,  against  Dr.  G.  W. 
and  JMr.  H.  S.,  of  New  Jersey.  Each  person  shot  at 
twenty  birds,  twenty  yards  from  the  trap,  and  stood  as 
follows: 


INIr.   T.  P.  G.   . 

Mr.  J.  L 19     JMr.  H.  S. 


34  32 

Being  won  by  the  former  party  by  two  birds. 

The  Shooting  was  represented  to  have  been  very  fine; 
each  person  shooting,  in  his  turn,  at  five  birds,  until  the 
twenty  shots  were  accomplished.  ]\Ir.  J.  L.  killed  his 
first  seventeen  birds,  missed  the  eighteenth,  and  killed  the 
other  two  birds,  making  the  nineteen  killed. 

Mr.  H.  S.  counted  only  15  birds,  but  19  were  killed  by 
him,  the  other  4  having  fallen  dead  out  of  bounds. 

The  Jersey  gentlemen  challenged  the  successful  party  to 
a  second  trial,  on  a  future  day,  but  the  challenge  was  de- 
clined. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


BUFFALO  HUNT. 

We  set  out  on  the  24th  July  from  Lake  Travers,  of 
which  we  took  leave  witli  a  salute  of  musketry;  this  same 
day  the  buffaloes  made  their  appearance.  My  horse  gave 
notice  of  their  approach  by  the  ardour  with  which  he  was 
animated.  He  was  the  finest  horse  of  the  party,  and  as  I 
had  often  dismounted  and  walked  a  little  to  rest  him,  he 
was  in  the  best  condition,  and  the  most  spirited  in  this  extra- 
ordinary chase. 

Following  the  traces  of  Mr.  Renville,  who  is  renowned 
as  a  hunter,  even  among  the  Indians,  I  gave  my  horse  the 
reins,  and  let  him  go  in  pursuit  of  the  first  bufialo  we  saw. 
I  soon  came  up  with  and  passed  him,  though  he  was  two 
miles  ofi',  and  having  turned  him,  we  drove  him  towards  our 
people,  to  give  them  the  pleasure  of  so  new  a  scene,  and  I 
shot  him  before  their  eyes.  At  the  same  time,  Mr.  Yef- 
fray,  one  of  the  gentlemen  of  Lake  Travers,  who  was  our 
guide,  killed  another  at  a  little  distance;  and  in  the  even- 
ing the  driver,  who  carried  my  baggage  in  his  wagon, 
brought  us  a  third.  For  the  first  time,  plenty  reigned  in 
our  camp; — there  was  no  wood,  but  the  buSalo's  dung, 
which  lay  scattered  about  in  abundance,  formed  an  admira- 
ble substitute.     It  makes  an  astonishingly  strong  fire. 

The  surprise  I  felt  on  a  near  view  of  this  animal  was 
equal  to  my  pleasure  in  hunting  it;  its  appearance  is  truly 
formidable.  In  size  it  approaches  the  elephant.  Its  flow- 
ing mane,  and  the  long  hair  which  covers  its  neck  and 
head,  and  falls  over  its  eyes,  are  like  those  of  the  lion.  It 
has  a  hump  like  a  camel,  its  hind  quarters  and  tail  are  like 
those  of  the  hippopotamus,  its  horns  like  those  of  the  large 
goat  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  its  legs  like  those  of 
an  ox. 

The  following  day  we  found  the  great  chief  encamped  in 
this  prairie,  near  the  Sioux  river,  Ciantapa-Watpa,  which 
serves  as  an  outlet  to  the  waters  of  Lake  Travers.  He  was 
in  a  new  and  very  clean  tent;  he  offered  us  the  tongues  and 
humps  of  buffaloes,  which  are  great  delicacies,  very  nicely 
cured;  but  he  preserved  a  most  invincible  gravity  and  taci- 
turnity. Whenever  we  turned  our  eyes,  we  saw  innume- 
rable herds  of  buffaloes.  I  begged  the  major  to  endeavour 
to  induce  the  chief  to  give  us  the  sight  of  a  buffalo  hunt  with 
bows  and  arrows,  but  he  replied,  with  his  usual  com- 
plaisance, that  he  could  not  stop. 

I  let  him  go  on:  and  Mr.  Renville  prevailed  on  the 
chief  to  satisfy  my  curiosity.  We  galloped  towards  a 
meadow  which  was  perfectly  black  with  them.  My  horse, 
who  now  regarded  neither  rein  nor  voice,  plunged  into  the 
centre  of  the  herd,  dividing  it  into  halves,  and  turned  seve- 
ral of  them.  The  chief,  who  followed  me  with  Mr.  Ren- 
ville, let  fly  his  arrow  and  shot  a  female  buffalo;  she  still 
endeavoured  to  escape,  but  the  motion  of  her  body  in  run- 


ning caused  the  arrow  to  sink  deeper  into  the  wound,  and 
when  she  fell  the  whole  barb  had  entered. 

Never  did  I  see  attitudes  so  graceful  as  those  of  the  chief. 
They  alternately  reminded  me  of  the  equestrian  statue  of 
INIarcus  Aurelius  on  the  capitol  at  Naples,  and  that  of  the 
great  Numidian  king.  Altogether  it  was  the  most  astonishing 
spectacle  I  ever  saw.  I  thought  I  beheld  the  games  and  com- 
bats of  the  ancients.  I  played  nearly  the  same  part  as  the 
Indians  of  former  ages,  who  thought  the  first  European  they 
saw  on  horseback  was  a  being  of  a  superior  order;  while 
the  chief  with  his  quiver,  his  horse,  and  his  victim,  formed 
a  group  worthy  the  pencil  of  Raphael  or  the  chisel  of 
Canova.  I  was  so  enchanted  by  this  living  model  of  classi- 
cal beauty,  that  I  forgot  my  part  in  the  chase,  and  was  only 
aroused  to  a  recollection  of  it  b}'  the  voice  of  the  chief,  who 
pointed  to  a  young  buffalo,  which  I  fired  at  and  killed. 
His  majesty  did  me  the  honour  to  say  I  was  an  excellent 
shot.  Any  of  our  grands  veneurs  who  should  receive 
such  a  compliment  from  one  of  our  kings,  would  be  immor- 
talized, and  the  court  poets  would  dispute  the  honour  of 
celebrating  his  glories.     Mr.  Renville  killed  a  buffalo. 

Wolves  also  appeared  on  the  scene,  and  formed  very 
curious  episodes,  intimately  connected  with  the  principal 
action,  according  to  all  the  rules  of  the  Epopea. 

These  animals  are  as  fond  of  the  delicious  flesh  of  the 
buffalo  as  man;  but  as  they  are  too  weak  to  attack,  they 
employ  cunning  to  entrap  him.  Wherever  they  see  hun- 
ters, they  immediately  follow  in  their  track,  and  take  what- 
ever advantage  circumstances  may  chance  to  afford.  Some- 
times they  regale  themselves  upon  the  offal  which  is  left  on 
the  field;  sometimes  they  follow  those  which  they  see  have 
been  wounded,  and  which  the  hunters  do  not  go  in  pursuit 
of;  on  this  occasion  they  showed  quite  a  new  contrivance. 
Three  of  them  joined  our  charge  upon  the  great  herd,  and 
at  the  moment  the  females  were  so  occupied  in  making 
their  own  escape  that  they  could  not  defend  their  young 
ones,  each  wolf  seized  upon  a  calf,  strangled  it,  and  dragged 
it  off  the  field:  when  we  had  got  to  a  little  distance  they 
returned  and  regaled  themselves  with  their  prey.  When 
they  are  pressed  by  hunger,  and  no  hunters  come  to  their 
aid,  they  have  recourse  to  another  stratagem  still  more  sur- 
prising. They  approach  five  or  six  of  a  herd  without 
appearing  to  have  any  design  of  attacking  them.  The  buf- 
faloes, who  do  not  condescend  to  be  afraid,  pay  no  attention 
to  them  whatever — they  neither  avoid  nor  attack  them. 
The  wolves  then  single  out  their  victim,  which  is  always  a 
female,  as  the  most  delicious  food,  and  invariably  the  fattest 
of  the  herd.  Whilst  two  or  three  keep  her  attention  en- 
gaged in  front  by  pretending  to  play  with  her,  one  of  the 
strongest  and  most  active  seizes  her  behind  by  the  teats,  and 
when  she  turns  round  to  drive  him  off,  those  in  front  fly  at 
her  throat  and  strangle  her. — Beltrami. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


GROUND  SQUIRREL. 
SCIURUS  (TJl  MIJl  S)  L  YS  TE  RI. 

[Plate  XV.] 

Sciurus  Lysteri. — Rat,  Sytiops.  Quad.  216. — Sciurus 
Striatus.  Klein,  Pull.  Glires,  378. — Gjiel.  Schreb. 
tab.  221. — Sciurus  Carolinensis,  Briss.  Eeg.  Jin.  15.5. 
No.  9. — Ecureuil  Suisse. — Desm.  339,  5  p.  547.— Es- 
curieux  Suisses. — Sugar d-Theodat,  Cunuda,  P.  746. 
Ground  Squirrel,  Lawsox,  Carolina,  P.  124. — Cates- 
by,  Carol.  Vol.  2.  p.  75.— Edwards,  Vol.  4,  t.  ISl. 
Kalm,  Vol.  I.  p.  322.  L  i. — Godman,  Vol.  2.  p.  142. 
Striped  Dormouse,  Pennant — .^rct.  Zool.  Vol.  1.  p. 
126. — Hackee,  United  States. — J.  Doughty's  Collec- 
tion. 

The  beautiful  little  animal  whose  biography  and  descrip- 
tion we  are  about  relating,  is  known  to  most  of  the  inabi- 
tants  of  the  United  States,  being  found  in  all  districts  of 
the  country,  as  far  north  as  the  50th  parallel;  its  chief  ha- 
bitation, however,  appears  to  be  in  the  vicinage  of  man, 
although  numbers  may  be  seen  on  the  shores  of  Lakes  Hu- 
ron and  Superior.  It  is  the  first  wild  animal  which  at- 
tracts the  notice  of  infancy,  who  grow  to  manhood  with 
so  intimate  an  acquaintance  with  it,  that  it  is  unnoticed 
either  for  its  beauty,  or  interesting  habits,  because  familiari- 
ty has  made  it  common  ;  but  in  a  minute  investigation  of 
its  habits  and  properties,  its  beauties  are  more  fully  deve- 
loped, and  a  close  investigation  of  its  foresight,  and  appa- 
rent wisdom,  will  lead  us  to  admire  an  animal  from  which 
important  instruction  may  be  derived. 

Associated  with  the  Ground  Squirrel,  are  many  pleasing 
little  reminiscenses,  it  recalls  the  mature  mind  to  days 
of  boyhood,  when  that  period  was  often  wasted  in  the  idle 
enjoyment  of  persecuting  this  common  inhabitant  of  the 
wood,  when  hours  and  days  were  spent  in  almost  fruitless 
exertion  to  make  it  prisoner,  when  the  country  schoolboy 
exhausted  his  truant  hours,  in  more  severe  labour  by  chas- 
ing from  fence  to  fence,  or  from  tree  to  tree,  this  active 
animal — than  days  of  study  would  create,  and  when  the 
rambles  by  the  brook's  margin,  or  through  the  lonely 
wood,  were  mostly  enlivened  by  the  spirited  chirping  of 
the  Ground  Squirrel. 

Often,  too,  in  the  solitary  wilds  of  our  country,  where 
nature  appears  almost  forsaken  of  animated  life,  does  the 
traveller  find  a  companion  in  this  pretty  Squirrel,  while  it 
is  passing  swiftly  from  stone  to  stone,  or  scudding  along  the 
fences  by  the  road  side.  These  fences,  which  are  commonly 
the  ziz-zag  or  worm  fences,  afibrd  them  fine  shelter  from 
U  u 


their  enemies,  and  a  secure  and  regular  path  for  their 
fleetness. 

The  favourite  places  of  resort  for  the  Ground  Squirrel 
are  woods  embedded  with  rocks  and  stones,  the  margin  of 
shaded  brooks  or  creeks,  along  fences,  old  walls,  and  banks 
adjacent  to  forests.  They  live  in  the  ground,  and  their 
burrows,  are  mostly  at  the  foot  of  stumps  or  trees,  and  be- 
side rocks,  extending  to  a  considerable  distance  beneath 
the  surface,  having  several  branches  from  the  principal  pas- 
sage, each  of  which  is  terminated  by  a  store-house  for  their 
winter  supplies;  and,  as  they  feed  on  the  various  kinds  of 
nuts,  the  products  of  our  forests,  they  deposit  each  in  a  se- 
parate cell,  accumulating,  through  the  summer  and  autumn, 
a  most  incredible  quantity  of  provisions  for  the  emergencies 
of  winter.  This  provident  store  is  never  impaired,  until 
the  severities  of  the  climate  confines  them  to  their  burrows. 
During  the  summer  season,  they  eat  corn,  wheat,  rye, 
cherry-stones,  acorns,  &c.  Their  favourite  food,  however, 
is  chesnuts,  and  in  forests  where  these  trees  abound,  num- 
bers of  these  animals  may  always  be  found.  Their  bur- 
rows frequently  possess  two  entrances,  to  afford  them 
either  a  more  easy  access  to  their  cells,  or  to  escape  more 
readily  from  their  enemies. 

These  animals  are  seldom  seen  on  trees,  unless  driven 
there  for  refuge,  but  may  be  found  at  all  hours  of  the  day, 
during  the  warm  weather,  sitting  on  the  summit  of  some 
rock,  stump,  or  fence,  in  a  manner  as  represented  in  the 
plate,  where,  if  unmolested,  they  will  remain  for  hours, 
whistling  and  chattering  away  the  tedium  of  a  summer's  day, 
making  so  much  noise  as  to  be  heard  from  the  most  re- 
mote recess  of  the  wood.  Should  they  be  intruded  on  at 
this  period,  their  noise  will  cease,  and  after  a  short  pause, 
watching  the  progress  of  the  intruder,  they  will  glide  ra- 
pidly into  their  holes,  with  a  shrill  cry  or  whistle  peculiar 
to  this  action.  They  are  timid  animals,  and  seldom  wan- 
der far  from  their  burrows,  except  in  search  of  food,  and, 
as  the  early  morning  and  late  evening  are  devoted  to  this 
purpose,  it  requires  much  wariness  in  the  pursuer  to  sur- 
prise them,  and  if  successful  in  doing  this,  they  will  then 
ascend  the  nearest  trees,  which,  if  somewhat  detached  from 
other  trees,  they  are  frequently  captured.  They  are  con- 
sidered the  most  untameable  of  their  species,  and  can  sel- 
dom be  reduced  to  familiarity,  but  will  generally  bite  their 
keeper,  and  survive  only  a  short  time,  if  imprisoned. 

These  Squirrels  never  migrate,  but,  if  undisturbed,  keep 
possession  of  the  same  tenements,  year  after  year  during 
the  short  period  of  their  existence,  and  in  the  first  open 
weather  of  spring,  they  disincumber  their  habitations  of 
all  rubbish,  preparatory  to  gathering  in  the  harvest  for  the 
next  winter;  then  may  found  at  the  mouths  of  their  bur- 
rows, the  shells  of  hickory,  beach,  and  chesnuts,  acorns, 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


cherry-stones,  &c.  these,  as  had  been  before  stated,  forni 
their  principal  food,  and  while  it  lasts,  they  will  not  for- 
sake their  burrows,  unless  by  protracted  cold  weather, 
they  completely  exhaust  their  store  of  provisions,  and  are 
of  necessity  compelled  to  leave  their  habitations  to  seek 
further  supplies,  in  which  case  they  resort  to  granaries  and 
barns,  and,  if  possible,  to  places  where  fruits  have  been 
stored.  Something  remarkable  in  tlie  character  of  these 
Squirrels  is  their  large  cheeks,  which  are  capable  of  being 
distended  to  a  considerable  extent,  and  in  which  they  carry 
their  food  to  their  habitations;  differing  in  this  respect  from 
most  other  Squirrels;  they  are  classed  by  some  with  the 
subgenus  Tamias.  A  celebrated  writer  observes,  that 
"during  harvest  they  fill  their  mouths  so  full  with  corn 
that  their  cheeks  are  quite  distended,  and  in  this  manner, 
carry  it  to  their  concealed  store.  They  give  great  prefer- 
ence to  certain  kinds  of  food;  and,  if,  after  filling  their 
mouths  with  rye,  they  chance  to  meet  with  wheat,  they 
discharge  the  one  that  they  may  secure  the  other." 

The  Ground  Squirrel  is  about  six  inches  in  length  from 
the  nose  to  the  root  of  the  tail,  which  is  about  three  and  a 
half  inches  long.  The  general  colour  of  the  head  and  up- 
per parts  of  the  body  is  reddish  brown;  all  the  hairs  on 
these  parts  being  grey  at  the  base.  The  eye-lids  are  whitish, 
and  from  the  external  angles  of  each  eye  a  dark  line  towards 
the  nose  and  cars,  while  on  each  cheek  there  is  a  reddish 
brown  line.  The  short,  rounded  ears  are  covered  with  fine 
hairs,  which  are  on  their  outside  of  a  reddish  brown  colour, 
and  within  of  a  whitish  gra}',  the  upper  part  of  the  neck, 
shoulders,  and  base  of  the  hair  on  the  back,  are  of  a  grey 
brown,  mingled  with  whitish.  On  the  back  there  are  five 
longitudinal  black  bands,  which  are  at  their  posterior  parts 
bordered  slightly  with  red.  The  middle  one  begins  at  the 
back  of  the  head,  the  two  lateral  ones  on  the  shoulders; 
they  all  terminate  at  the  rump,  whose  colour  is  red.  On 
each  side  two  white  separate  the  lateral  black  bands.  The 
lower  part  of  the  flanks  and  sides  of  the  neck  are  of  a  paler 
red;  the  exterior  of  the  fore-feet  is  of  a  gre3'ish  yellow,  the 
thighs  and  hind-feet  are  red  above.  The  fur,  covering  the 
throat,  chin,  belly,  and  inner  surface  of  the  extremities,  is 
longer  and  thinner  than  that  on  the  dorsal  aspect,  and  is 
white  throughout  its  whole  length.  There  is  no  defined 
line  of  separation  betwixt  the  colours  of  the  back  and  belly. 
The  tail  is  not  bushy,  and  is  brown  for  a  small  space  at  its 
root,  afterwards  greyish  approaching  to  black  on  its  upper 
surface,  the  black  hairs  predominating  over  the  whitish 
ones,  underneath  it  is  reddish  brown  with  a  margin  of 
hoary  black.  Eyes  large  and  black,  ears  ovate,  rounded 
and  erect,  whiskers  long,  fine,  and  of  a  black  colour.  There 
are  also  several  long  black  hairs  springing  upwards  from  the 
eye-brows.    The  fore-feet  have  four  toes,  and  an  imperfect 


thumb,  the  palm  is  marked  with  five  tubercles,  three  of 
which  are  situated  at  the  root  of  the  toes,  and  two  larger 
ones  behind,  on  the  inner  side  of  one  of  these  there  is  a 
minute  wart  in  place  of  a  thumb,  entirely  covered  by  a 
thin,  roundish  nail;  the  claws  are  curved,  compressed  and 
sharp  pointed,  convex  above  and  channelled  underneath. 
There  are  five  toes  on  the  hind  feet;  the  three  middle  ones 
nearly  of  equal  length,  the  outer  and  inner  ones  shorter; 
the  hind  part  of  the  soles  hairy. 


PICTURED  ROCKS  OF  LAKE  SUPERIOR. 

Just  before  sun-down,  we  described  something  on  the 
main  opposite  Grand  island,  and  near  the  point  of  the 
Detour.  On  approaching  it,  it  turned  out  to  be  one  of 
those  formations  which  are  so  common  on  these  shores.  It 
was  a  perfect  vase.  Mr.  Lewis  took  an  exact  sketch  of 
it.  Its  base  is  in  yellow  sand  stone,  which  is  six  feet  above 
the  water  of  the  lake.  It  stands  about  two  miles  west  of 
the  point  opposite  the  south-western  side  of  Grand  island. 
The  colour  of  the  vase  is  nearly  that  of  white  sand  stone, 
a  little  shaded  in  places  with  yellow.  Its  stem  is  about 
five  feet  high,  and  the  body  of  the  vase  about  twelve  feet, 
with  dimensions  in  all  respects  exactly  adapted  to  these 
elevations.  The  trees  that  rise  out  of  it  are  the  fir,  and 
their  height  is  about  ten  feet.  Evergreen  and  the  aspen 
form  the  back  ground. 

The  sun  was  down  when  we  arrived  at  Grand  island. 
We  made  several  attempts  to  land  on  the  main,  but  found 
no  good  encamping  place.  Our  company  were  yet  behind. 
We  continued  on.  The  moon  shone  brightly,  and  the 
surface  of  the  water  was  undisturbed  and  pure,  except  by 
the  motion  imparted  to  it  by  our  canoe. 

"  Blue  were  the  waters — blue  the  sky, 
Spreads  like  an  ocean  hung  on  high, 
Bespangled  with  those  isles  of  light. 
So  wildly  spiritually  bright." 

Lewis,  whose  voice  is  fine,  added  additional  enchant- 
ment to  the  scene  by  singing  some  of  his  favourite  airs. 

We  had  thoughts  of  proceeding  on  to  the  point  of  Grand 
island,  where  we  had  breakfasted  on  our  way  up,  but  by 
the  light  of  the  moon  we  saw  a  beautiful  encamping  place 
on  the  island,  about  four  miles  from  it,  and  as  it  was  grown 
late,  we  determined  to  occupy  it.  Our  men  rounded  the 
point,  and  occupied  one  of  the  prettiest  encamping  grounds 
I  have  seen,  except  that  on  Point  Ke-we-wa-na.  Gover- 
nor Cass  and  the  party  arrived  in  half  an  hour  after,  and 
stopped  on  the  point,  about  four  hundred  yards  from  us. 
Guns  were  fired  from  the  trading  post  on  the  main,  the 
same  we  visited  on   going  up,  and  found  deserted,  and  a 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


fire  lit  upon  the  shore — the  usual  signals,  and  imports  a 
welcome  and  a  good  landing,  &.C.  Those  of  our  party  we 
had  sent  for  the  copper  rock  were  there;  and  hearing  the 
voyageurs  in  the  Governor's  canoe,  built  the  fire,  and  fired 
the  guns.  They  came  over — and  late  as  it  was,  we  learn- 
ed more,  in  detail,  the  history  of  their  attempt,  and  failure, 
to  bring  away  the  copper  rock.  How  much  I  regret  this 
failure!     Thermometer,  sun-down,  68°. 

Thursday,  ^ug-  17.  T.  sun-rise,  58°. — I  was  anxious 
to  know  how  the  morning  would  appear.  The  pictured  rocks 
were  now,  at  the  commencement,  not  over  six  miles  from 
us:  and  having  procured  a  sketch  of  the  vase,  I  was  more 
than  ever  anxious  to  get  also  the  outlines  of  those  mightier 
formations.  The  morning  was  cloudy!  The  west  looked 
black,  and  a  wind  from  that  quarter  would  have  efi'ectually 
destroyed  all  my  hopes  of  getting  the  sketches  of  the  rocks. 
We  determined,  however,  to  embark,  and  wait  the  result 
of  this  tempest — gathering  in  the  west,  on  the  south  side 
of  Grand  island.  JNIeanwhile,  I  examined  the  encamping 
ground.  Near  our  tent  I  found  the  frame  of  a  large  lodge, 
and  just  back  of  it,  the  kind  of  frame  on  which  the  Indians 
dry  their  fish.  It  is  built  over  a  square  hole  in  the  ground, 
of  about  six  feet  by  three,  where  the  fire  is  built.  Near 
the  lodge  was  a  pole  of  about  thirty  feet  high.  At  its 
top  hung  some  badges  of  the  superstition  of  these  people. 
It  was  an  offering  for  their  sick!  From  those  offerings,  we 
inferred  a  child  had  been  the  subject  of  their  anxieties. 
Near  the  top  of  the  pole  is  a  small  cap,  suspended  by  a  small 
string — to  which  is  attached,  also,  a  strip  of  fur.  Below 
these  is  a  little  child's  covering,  not  more  than  ten  inches 
by  twelve,  with  no  sleeves,  with  a  feather  from  the  wing 
of  a  hawk  suspended  from  near  the  shoulder-straps.  Be- 
low, there  is  a  piece  of  red  and  white  ribband,  and  ten  feet 
below  all,  hangs  a  small  hoop,  tied  round  with  wattap, 
which  confines  to  it  a  parcel  of  white  feathers. 

Now,  all  this  is  said  to  have  been  devised  by  their  Jossa- 
keed,  or  conjurer — or  their  Maakudaytveckoovyga,  or 
priest;  and  such  offerings  are  generally  the  result  of  some 
dream,  or  of  some  more  systematized  plan  of  imposing 
upon  the  credulity  of  these  unenlightened  and  helpless 
people. 

At  six  o'clock  in  the  morning,  we  were  opposite  the  first 
formation  of  the  line  of  the  rocky  and  pictured  scenery.  I 
have  had  some  views  taken  that  I  think  will  be  interest- 
ing. The  first  is  an  urn  and  a  monument,  with  a  stream  of 
water  running  into  the  lake  from  between  them.  This 
stream  is  nearly  equi-distant,  between  the  two,  but  some- 
thing nearer  the  monument.  The  urn  is  about  sixty  feet 
in  circumference,  and  of  the  most  exact  proportions  as  to 
height  and  figure.  Its  pedestal,  or  base,  rests  upon  yellow 
sand-stone,  and  not  more  than  ten  feet  from  the  water's 


edge,  and  nearly  on  a  line  with  it.  The  pitch  of  the  stream 
is  about  twenty  feet,  and  in  width,  it  is  about  six  feet.  The 
monument  stands  about  thirty  feet  back  of  a  line  drawn 
from  the  urn  and  along  the  margin  of  the  lake.  It  is  par- 
tially hid  with  trees.  It  rises  out  of  a  grove,  and  looks 
like  a  sacred  place,  and  just  such  as  we  would  fancy  a  mo- 
nument would  appear  in.  The  urn  and  monument  are  dis- 
tant from  each  other  about  one  hundred  yards. 

It  will  not  do  for  me  to  indulge  in  any  reflections  on  this 
singular  sepulchral  arrangement;  or  to  question  nature  as 
to  these  designs.  Here  is  the  urn,  the  naiad,  and  the  mo- 
nument; and  art  might  profit  by  a  view  of  their  construc- 
tion and  arrangement.  The  views  taken  of  them  are  in 
all  respects  correct. 

I  noticed  in  a  general  way  the  appearance  of  the  Pic- 
tured rocks,  on  coming  up.  I  shall  now  only  refer  to 
those  parts  of  them  which  I  have  had  sketched. 

The  next  point  which  struck  my  observation  with  most 
force,  was  what  I  have  called  Castle  rock.  After  Mr. 
Lewis  had  sketched  this  wonderful  mass  of  singular  and 
fortification-like  arrangement,  which  is  about  three  hun- 
dred feet  high,  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  wide,  which  he 
did  from  some  hundred  yards  in  the  lake,  we  approached 
it.  We  had  got  within  about  fifty  feet  of  its  base,  when, 
on  looking  up,  we  found  ourselves  under  the  drip  from  its 
edges  above — proceeding  further  in.  I  saw  mj^  men  look- 
ing up,  and  apparently  shrinking  from  its  projecting  sides. 
They  inquired  where  I  wished  to  go  ?  I  told  them,  into 
that  largest  opening.  "  Mon  Dieuf  they  exclaimed,  and 
INIr.*  L.  begged  that  we  might  go  back.  I  wished  to  look 
into  this  opening,  and  did  so.  I  confess  I  felt  something 
horror  struck,  for  in  addition  to  the  projecting  walls,  which 
are  of  sand-stone,  and  crumble  at  the  touch,  the  sounds  that 
came  out  of  these  apertures  were  most  unearthly!  One  of 
the  men  got  out  of  the  canoe,  and  sat  in  a  recess  just  in 
front  of  the  opening. 

This  opening  is  about  forty  feet  wide,  and  ten  deep.  On 
the  right,  a  circular  passage  way  winds  into  the  body  of 
the  rock,  with  a  roof  of  thirty  feet,  supported  on  pillars, 
averaging  about  twelve  inches  in  circumference,  but  the 
length  of  the  canoe  prevented  my  winding  my  way  into 
this  inner  world.  After  surveying  this  recess  for  half  an 
hour,  numerous  fish  swimming  beneath  us,  and  becoming 
familiarized  to  the  danger,  we  came  out  and  continued 
down  the  coast  of  similar  formations,  but  all  varying,  for 
about  five  miles,  when  we  came  to  that  which  I  call 
Cave  rock.  This  we  approached  also,  and  found  the  tops 
to  overhang  in  all  the  threatening  postures  of  the  first. 
Near  this,  and  connected  with  it,  and  on  the  right,  is  a 
pile  of  ruins,  which  are  the  remains  of  one  of  these  im- 
mense formations,  that  having  been  undermined  by  the  ac- 


172 


tion  of  the  waters,  had  tumbled  down,  and  no  doubt  agi- 
tated the  lake  for  miles  around. 

This  view,  gives  some  ideas  of  the  continuation  of  this 
rock-bound  shore,  in  the  sections  of  which  the  walls  are 
formed.  All  along  the  cornice  of  these  rocks  the  colour 
is  white,  and  stained  with  brown,  as  if  by  time,  and  the 
action  of  the  elements;  and  here  and  there  huge  fragments 
are  broken  off  as  if  by  the  same  agents.  Their  bases  are 
uniformly,  or  nearly  so,  of  yellow  sand  stone.  The  whole, 
looks  like  the  work  of  art;  and  as  if,  I  have  before  said, 
giants  had  been  the  workmen. 

The  Governor,  on  parting  from  me  in  the  morning,  bade 
me,  very  formally,  farewell — said  he  was  very  sorry  to 
leave  me,  but  that  we  should  meet  at  the  Sault.  There  I 
expected  myself  I  should  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  him, 
and  not  before.  I  knew  these  sketches  must  occupy  Mr. 
Lewis  for  some  time;  and  so  made  my  mind  up  to  have 
a  lonely  voyage  to  the  St.  INIary's. 

Sun-set  brought  us  to  the  Grand  Marais,  having  come 
sixty  miles  to-day.  We  encamped  on  the  same  spot  where 
our  tent  was  pitched  in  going  up,  and  now,  doubtless,  for 
the  last  time.  We  are  at  least  twenty  miles  behind  the 
Governor  and  our  party — and  perhaps  one  hundred  in  ad- 
vance of  the  militar}'.  About  nine  miles  from  the  Grand 
Marais  passed  some  Indians  encamping  for  the  night.  Got 
some  fish  of  them;  and  gave  them  in  exchange  pork  and 
flour.  The  chief  came  wading  into  the  lake,  holding  out 
his  hand,  saying,  "  Boo-Shoo — Boo-Shoo," — and  on  re- 
ceiving the  pork  and  flour,  was  confounded  at  his  unex- 
pected good  luck,  and  seemed  grateful.  Thermometer, 
sun-down,  66°. 

The  moon  is  at  her  full.  The  stars  are  nearly  all  quench- 
ed in  her  unusual  splendour.  The  firmament  looks  like 
one  vast  mirror,  and  this  lovely  bay  resembles  it.  It  would 
be  difficult,  from  the  appearance,  to  determine  which  is  the 
original,  and  which  the  reflection.  On  landing,  I  walked 
down  on  the  bar,  where,  on  going  up,  we  had  exercised 
ourselves  so  freely.  But  the  evening — the  varied  and 
golden  light  in  the  west,  and  the  full  moon,  silent,  and 
silvery,  and  bright,  and  thoughts  of  home  absorbed  my 
reflections — and  here  it  was  I  felt  all  the  force  and  beauty 
of  the  following  lines: — 

'•■  The  moon  is  up,  and  yet  il  is  not  night— 
Sun-set  divides  the  day  with  her— a  sea 
Of  glory  streams  along  the  Alpine  height — 

Heaven  is  free 
From  clouds,  but  of  all  colours  seem  to  be 
Melted  to  one  vast  Iris  of  the  west, 
Where  the  day  joins  the  past  eternity. 
While  on  the  other  hand,  meek  Dian's  crest 
Floats  through  the  azure  air. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


Yon  sunny  sea  heaves  brightly,  and  remains, 
Fill'd  with  the  face  of  heav'n,  which,  from  afar 
Comes  down  upon  the  waters ;  all  its  hues, 
From  the  rich  sun-set  to  the  rising  star. 
Their  magical  variety  diffuse: 
And  now  they  change ;  a  paler  shadow  strews 
Its  mantle  o'er  the  mountains  3  parting  day 
Dies  like  the  dolphin,  whom  each  pang  imbues 


With  E 
Thel 


lain 


grr.y. 


A  single  star  is  at  her  side,  and  reigns 
With  her  o'er  half  the  lovely  heav'n  ; 


While  contemplating  the  stillness,  and  wrapt  in  the  sil- 
very mantle  of  this  night-scenery,  I  heard  a  footstep — on 
looking  round,  I  recognized  it  to  be  one  of  my  men — the 
steersman.  "Sir,"  said  he,  "I  have  come  to  say,  that  if 
it  is  your  pleasure,  now  that  we  have  eaten  and  rested,  we 
are  willing  to  go  on — the  night  is  bright,  and  we  will  make 
your  pallet  in  the  canoe."  1  assented,  when  the  canoe  was 
soon  in  the  water,  the  tent  down,  the  pallet  that  had  been 
spread,  rolled  up,  and  in  half  an  hour,  and  at  ten  o'clock, 
we  were  going  out  of  this  bay,  and  gliding  over  the  surf  of 
the  lake  as  it  broke  upon  the  beach.  The  stillness  which  I 
had  been  enjoying,  was  broken  by  the  chaunting  of  the 
voyageurs.  I  stretched  myself  down  on  my  pallet,  that 
was  unrolled  and  spread  out  on  the  bottom  of  the  canoe, 
and  pulling  my  blankets  over  me,  went  to  sleep.  Thermo- 
meter, sun-rise,  58°. 

Friday,  ^dugust  I8th. — The  voyageurs  have  been  gra- 
tified. Their  object  was  to  overtake  and  pass  the  Go- 
vernor and  the  rest  of  the  company  whilst  they  slept.  At 
half  past  one,  the  entire  silence  awaking  me,  I  lifted  my 
head,  and  looking  out,  saw  five  barges  drawn  up  on  the 
shore,  and  the  smoke  of  the  fires  at  which  the  company  had 
cooked  their  evening  repast;  and  at  three,  the  provision 
barges,  and  those  who  had  been  despatched  to  the  Onta- 
nagon,  and  who  also  got  ahead  of  me  whilst  I  was  delayed 
before  the  Pictured  rocks,  and  just  beyond,  at  Twin  river, 
the  Governor,  Mr.  Holliday,  and  Mr.  Johnson.  I  had  got 
into  a  doze  again,  but  every  thing  becoming  so  perfectly 
still,  I  was  awakened,  and  looking  out,  saw  the  tents,  and 
that  all  was  silent.  We  passed  them  all,  and  continued  on 
to  White-fish  point,  where  we  breakfasted.  Just  as  we  had 
embarked,  after  breakfast,  we  saw  in  the  distance  the  lit- 
tle fleet.  I  soon  discovered  the  determination  of  the  voy- 
ageurs was  to  make  the  entire  traverse  of  this  immense 
bay,  from  TFhite-Jish,  to  Gross  point.  It  is  true,  the 
morning  was  calm  ;  but  there  is  danger  in  the  undertak- 
ing, and  it  is  never  attempted  but  under  the  fairest  prospects. 
We  had  proceeded  but  about  one-third  of  the  way,  when 
the  wind  breezed  up,  and  fortunately  for  us,  it  was  fair. 
We  put  our  sail,  and  scudded  before  it.  When  two- 
thirds  of  the  way  across,  we  saw,  by  standing  up  in  the 
canoe,  the  boats  following — their  sails  just  visible.     We 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


had  got  within  ten  miles  of  Gross  cape  when  the  wind 
rose  into  a  storm.  The  waves  were  making,  fast,  when 
the  paddles  were  resorted  to,  which,  together  with  the 
wind,  forced  us  under  the  shelter  of  Gross  point  just  in 
time.  We  feared  for  our  company,  but  keeping  on,  and  now 
in  calmer  water  upon  the  river  St.  Mary,  and  at  three 
o'clock,  I  bade,  perhaps,  a  final  farewell  to  Lake  Superior, 
and  its  billowy  and  changeful  surface;  its  moon-light  scene- 
ry; its  broken  and  barren  shores;  its  Grand  Sables;  its  Pic- 
tured rocks;  its  islands,  and  its  solitude.  I  felt  grateful 
for  the  protection  I  had  experienced,  and  for  the  safety  of 
all  concerned;  and  gratified  at  having  been  made  able  to 
feed  the  hungry,  and  to  assist  in  planning  measures  which 
we  hope  may  prove  in  future  a  source  of  supplies,  in  part, 
at  least,  for  the  miserable  and  starving  beings  among  whom 
we  have  been. 

At  five  o'clock  arrived  at  the  Sault  de  St.  Marie.  It 
was  our  intention  to  go  down  the  rapids,  but  our  voyageurs 
dissuaded  us  from  it,  assuring  us  that  the  canoe  was  too 
deep,  and  that  none  of  the  crew  knew  the  way  well  enough 
to  avoid,  with  certainty,  the  rocks  which  are  no  where 
more  than  a  few  feet  beneath  the  surface  of  the  foam  of  the 
rapids. 

We  entered  by  the  way  of  the  race  which  had  been  cut 
by  the  soldiers  to  let  in  the  water  for  a  saw  mill,  which  has 
been  destroj-ed  by  fire  since  we  left  here;  and  at  five,  p.  m. 
had  the  gratification  of  being  once  more  in  a  place  where 
the  rights  of  hospitality  had  been  extended  to  us;  and  al- 
though it  is  only  on  the  threshold  of  civilized  life,  so  great 
was  the  change  from  solitude  to  it,  that  I  felt  on  seeing 
these  few  log  houses  covered  with  bark,  and  the  fort, 
and  the  faces  of  the  inhabitants,  as  if  I  had  entered  a  popu- 
lous town.     We  were  scarcely  in   our  quarters  before  the 

landlady,   Mrs.    H ,   announced  the    deaths  of    John 

Adams  and  Thomas  Jefferson,  and  handed  us  the  papers 
which  teem  with  the  feelings,  and  reflections,  and  honours 
of  the  people,  on  an  occasion  so  unexampled! 

In  an  hour  after  our  arrival,  the  Governor  and  Mr.  Hol- 
liday  were  seen  careering  it  over  the  rapids,  and  flying  by 
us.  They  were  surprised  on  seeing  us,  having  passed  us 
at  Grand  island,  and  not  expecting  our  arrival,  at  least,  un- 
til to-morrow.  Tour  to  the  Lakes. 


HOW  SPIDERS  EFFECT  THEIR  AERIAL  EXCURSIONS. 

By  John  Blackwell,  Esq.  F.  L.  S. 

Although  it  is  well  known  that  spiders  sometimes  as- 
cend into  the  atmosphere  through  the  instrumentality  of 
fine  lines  of  a  viscous  gummy  matter,  which  proceed  from 
X  X 


the  papilla;  situated  at  the  extremity  of  the  abdomen,  yet 
the  manner  in  which  these  aerial  jonrneys  are  effected 
still  remains  involved  in  obscurit}',  and  considerable  diver- 
sity of  opinion  exists  as  to  the  particular  species  of  spider 
by  which  they  are  undertaken.  This  deficiency  leaves 
open  a  wide  field  for  speculation;  and  accordingly  we  find, 
that  natural  historians  have  ascribed  this  interesting  occur- 
rence to  several  distinct  causes, — such  as  the  agency  of 
winds,  evaporation,  and  electricity:  the  exercise  of  pecu- 
liar physical  powers,  with  which  the  spiders  that  produce 
gossamer  have  been  supposed  to  be  endowed;  and  the  ex- 
treme levity  of  the  webs  of  these  insects,  which  are  repre- 
sented by  some  writers  on  the  subject  to  be  of  less  specific 
gravity  than  atmosphere  air  :  but  that  each  of  these  hypo- 
theses is  unfounded,  and  in  direct  opposition  to  facts,  will 
be  rendered  evident  by  the  following  observations  and  ex- 
periments, from  which  a  satisfactory  solution  of  the  diffi- 
culty, it  is  hoped,  will  be  obtained. 

That  gossamer,  which  usually  abounds  most  in  the  months 
of  September  and  October,  is  perceived  to  ascend  into  the 
atmosphere  only  in  serene  bright  weather,  is,  I  believe, 
generally  allowed:  it  is  also  admitted,  the  gossamer  in  the 
air  is  invariably  preceded  by  gossamer  on  the  ground. 
These,  as  will  appear  in  the  sequel,  are  circumstances  of 
much  importance  in  the  present  investigation;  every  me- 
thod of  accounting  for  the  ascent  of  the  webs  and  spiders, 
however  plausible,  which  does  not  imply  their  concurrence, 
being  necessarily  erroneous. 

But  to  proceed  to  my  own  researches: — A  little  before 
noon  on  the  1st  of  October,  1S26,  which  was  a  remarkably 
calm  sunny  daj',  the  thermometer  in  the  shade  ranging 
from  55°-5  to  64°,  I  observed  that  the  fields  and  hedges  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Manchester  were  covered  over,  by 
the  united  labours  of  an  immense  multitude  of  spiders,  with 
a  profusion  of  fine  shining  lines,  intersecting  one  another 
at  every  angle,  and  forming  a  confused  kind  of  net-work. 
So  extremely  numerous  were  these  slender  filaments,  that  in 
walking  across  a  small  pasture  my  feet  and  ankles  were 
thickly  coated  with  them:  it  was  evident,  however,  not- 
withstanding their  great  abundance,  that  they  must  have 
been  produced  in  a  very  short  space  of  time,  as  early  in 
the  morning  they  were  not  sufficiently  conspicuous  to  at- 
tract my  notice;  and  on  the  30th  of  September  they  could 
not  have  existed  at  all;  for  on  my  referring  to  my  me- 
teorological journal,  I  find  that  a  strong  gale  from  the 
south  prevailed  during  the  greater  part  of  that  day. 

A  circumstance  so  extraordinary  could  not  fail  to  excite 
curiosity;  but  what  more  particularly  arrested  my  atten- 
tion was  the  ascent  of  an  amazing  quantity  of  webs  of  an 
irregular  complicated  structure,  resembling  ravelled  silk  of 
the  finest  quality  and  clearest  white.   They  were  of  various 


174 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


shapes  and  dimensions,  some  of  the  largest  measuring  up- 
wards of  a  yard  in  length,  and  several  inches  in  breadth  in 
the  widest  part;  while  others  were  almost  as  broad  as  long, 
presenting  an  area  of  a  few  square  inches  only. 

These  webs,  it  was  quickly  perceived,  were  not  formed 
in  the  air,  as  is  generally  believed,  but  at  the  earth's  sur- 
face. The  lines  of  which  they  were  composed  being 
brought  into  contact  by  the  mechanical  action  of  gentle 
airs,  adhered  together,  till  by  continual  additions  they  were 
accumulated  into  flakes  or  masses  of  considerable  magni- 
tude, on  which  the  ascending  current,  occasioned  by  the 
rarefaction  of  the  air  contiguous  to  the  heated  ground,  acted 
with  so  much  force  as  to  separate  them  from  the  objects 
to  which  they  were  attached,  raising  them  in  the  atmos- 
phere to  a  perpendicular  height  of  at  least  several  hun- 
dred feet.  I  collected  a  number  of  these  webs  about  mid- 
day as  they  rose,  and  again  in  the  afternoon,  when  the  up- 
ward current  had  ceased  and  they  were  falling,  but  scarce- 
ly one  in  twenty  contained  a  spider;  though  on  minute  in- 
spection I  found  small  winged  insects;  chiefly  aphides,  en- 
tangled in  most  of  them. 

From  contemplating  this  unusual  display  of  gossamer, 
my  thoughts  were  naturally  directed  to  the  animals  which 
produced  it ;  and  the  countless  myriads  in  which  they 
swarmed  almost  created  as  much  surprise  as  the  singular 
occupation  that  engrossed  them.  Apparently  actuated  by 
the  same  impulse,  all  were  intent  upon  traversing  the  re- 
gions of  air;  accordingl}-,  after  gaining  the  summits  of  va- 
rious objects,  as  blades  of  grass,  stubble,  rails,  gates,  &c., 
by  the  slow  and  laborious  process  of  climbing,  they  raised 
themselves  still  higher  by  straightening  their  limbs;  and 
elevating  the  abdomen,  by  bringing  it  from  the  usual  ho- 
rizontal position  into  one  almost  perpendicular,  they  emitted 
from  their  spinning-apparatus  a  small  quantity  of  the  glu- 
tinous secretion  with  which  they  construct  their  webs.  This 
viscous  substance  being  drawn  out  by  the  ascending  cur- 
rent of  rarefied  air  into  fine  lines  several  feet  in  length, 
was  carried  upward,  until  the  spiders  feeling  themselves 
acted  upon  with  sufficient  force  in  that  direction,  quitted 
their  hold  of  the  objects  on  which  they  stood,  and  com- 
menced their  journey  by  mounting  aloft. 

Whenever  the  lines  became  indequate  to  the  purpose  for 
which  they  were  intended,  by  adhering  to  any  fixed  body, 
they  were  immediately  detached  from  the  spinners,  and  so 
converted  into  terrestrial  gossamer  by  means  of  the  last 
pair  of  legs,  and  the  proceedings  just  described  were  re- 
peated; which  plainly  proves  that  these  operations  result 
from  a  strong  desire  felt  by  the  insects  to  efiect  an  ascent. 
But  what,  it  may  be  asked,  is  the  exciting  cause  of  this 
singular  propensity.     It  has  been   suggested  that  hunger, 


or  an  inclination  to  procure  some  favourite  kind  of  food, 
may  supply  the  requisite  stimulus.  These  suppositions, 
however,  are  discountenanced  by  the  plump  appearance 
which  the  animals  exhibit;  by  their  total  disregard  of  such 
winged  insects  as  happen  to  be  placed  within  their  power; 
by  their  utter  inability  to  regulate  their  motions,  while 
afloat,  in  any  other  manner  than  by  letting  out  or  drawing 
in  the  lines  by  which  they  are  conveyed  through  the  air, 
and  thus  promoting  their  ascent  or  descent;  by  the  unsuita- 
bleness  of  the  lines  for  securing  their  prey;  and  lastly,  by 
the  uncertainty  when  a  favourite  day  for  their  purpose  may 
occur,  or  even  that  one  may  occur  at  all. 

Were  I  to  hazard  a  conjecture  on  the  subject,  I  should 
be  disposed  to  attribute  the  manifest  anxiety  of  these  in- 
sects to  change  their  quarters,  to  a  feeling  of  insecurity  oc- 
casioned by  their  proximity  to  one  another; — the  prodi- 
gious numbers  which  in  favourable  seasons  are  usually  con- 
gregated together  afi"ording  the  more  powerful  individuals 
an  opportunity,  seldom  neglected  by  these  voracious  crea- 
tures, of  making  an  easy  prey  of  the  weaker:  and  this  opi- 
nion is  strengthened,  if  not  confirmed,  by  the  fact,  that 
they  are  chiefly  animals  which  have  not  arrived  at  maturi- 
ty that  undertake  their  migrations. 

I  have  asserted,  that  when  the  spiders  which  produce 
gossamer  perform  their  aerial  journeys,  they  are  borne 
upward  by  an  ascending  current  of  rarefied  air  acting  on 
the  slender  lines  which  proceed  from  their  spinners.  I 
shall  now  endeavour  to  prove  that  this  curious  atmosphe- 
rical phenomenon,  which  well  deserves  the  attention  of 
meteorologists,  afibrds  them  the  only  available  means  of 
accomplishing  their  object;  and  that  the  hypotheses  pre- 
viously adverted  to  are  quite  irreconcileable  with  facts,  and 
consequently  must  be  erroneous. 

It  has  been  already  stated,  that  gossamer  is  never  seen 
floating  in  the  air  except  in  calm  sunny  weather;  its  buoy- 
ancy, therefore,  evidently  does  not  depend  upon  the  agency 
of  winds,  usually  so  called:  indeed  it  is  probable  that  winds 
never  do  take  an  upward  direction,  unless  influenced  by 
some  extraordinary  circumstance  or  local  peculiarity;  the 
ascent  of  gossamer,  on  the  contrary,  is  frequently  observ- 
ed to  take  place  over  a  great  extent  of  country  on  the  same 
day.  It  was  noticed  on  the  1st  of  October,  for  example, 
in  England,  Wales,  and  Ireland. 

If  a  satisfactory  explanation  of  this  interesting  fact  can- 
not be  derived  from  the  operation  of  winds,  it  is  still  less 
likely  to  be  deduced  from  the  action  of  evaporation  or  elec- 
tricity; for,  not  to  insist  upon  the  probable,  I  had  almost 
said  absolute,  insufficiency  of  these  powers  considered  as 
agents,  experiments  show  that  the  spiders  do  not  select 
those  periods  for  making  an  ascent  when  the  evaporating 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


force  is  unusually  great,  or  the  electricity  of  the  atmos- 
phere is  remarkable  for  its  intensity. 

But  though  each  of  the  alleged  causes  just  adverted  to 
appears  incompetent  to  produce  the  required  effect,  yet  one 
abundantly  adequate  may  perhaps  be  found  in  the  physical 
endowments  of  the  animals  themselves,  or  in  the  extreme 
lightness  of  their  webs:  these  two  last-named  suppositions 
therefore  merit  a  careful  examination. 

If  the  spiders  do  impel  their  lines  upward  by  the  volun- 
tary exercise  of  some  animal  function  which  has  hitherto 
eluded  the  researches  of  physiologists,  it  follows,  that  when 
the  communication  is  interrupted,  the  lines,  unless  influ- 
enced by  some  other  force,  must  necessarily  fall.  Now  the 
reverse  of  this  uniformly  ensues:  for  if  the  insects,  after 
having  commenced  their  ascent,  are  suddenly  separated 
from  the  lines  to  which  they  are  attached,  the  latter  still 
continue  to  ascend,  their  motion  being  accelerated  by  their 
diminished  gravity,  but  the  former  are  rapidly  precipitated 
to  the  ground.  The  conclusion  is  obvious.  The  buoyancy 
of  the  lines  cannot  be  occasioned  by  the  beings  which  pro- 
duce them;  and  the  ascent  of  large  flakes  of  web  unoccupied 
by  spiders,  before  alluded  to,  confirms  this  opinion. 

Perhaps  the  buoyance  of  lines  from  which  spiders  have 
been  detached,  and  of  webs  although  destitute  of  these  in- 
sects, may  be  regarded  as  facts  powerfully  contributing  to 
establish  the  idea  that  this  animal  secretion  is  specifically 
lighter  than  the  mixed  gases  which  compose  the  atmos- 
phere. The  fallacy  of  this  notion,  however,  is  easily  proved 
by  experiment.  In  the  comparatively  still  air  of  a  room 
without  fire,  both  the  lines  and  webs  descend  slowly  to  the 
floor,  the  latter  falling  with  the  greater  degree  of  velocity. 

Were  these  productions  lighter  than  atmospheric  air,  or 
were  the  spiders  capable  of  effecting  an  ascent  without  the 
help  of  adventitious  aid,  a  calm  though  cloudy  daj^  might 
answer  their  purpose;  but  as  considerable  warmth  is  re- 
quired to  produce  an  ascending  current  of  rarefied  air 
strong  enough  to  bear  them  from  the  earth,  a  bright  as  well 
as  still  day  is  indispensable. 

Founded  on  results  obtained  from  an  experiment  which 
has  been  frequently  made,  but  never  conducted  with  suffi- 
cient care,  is  the  belief  entertained  by  many  eminent  en- 
tomologists that  spiders  can  forcibly  propel  or  dart  out 
threads  from  their  papillae.  Now  as  this  process  would, 
contrary  to  my  own  experience,  imply  the  exercise  of  a 
physical  power  peculiar  to  these  creatures,  and  as  attempts 
have  been  made  to  explain  on  this  principle  the  fabrication 
of  their  webs  in  situations  where  their  ordinary  mode  of 
proceeding  could  not  be  employed,  1  determined  to  repeat 
the  experiment  from  which  so  strange  a  conclusion  has  been 
deduced.  With  this  view,  having  procured  a  small  branch- 
ed twig,  I  fixed   it  upright  in  an  earthen  vessel  containing 


water,  its  base  being  immersed  in  the  liquid,  and  upon  it 
I  placed  several  of  the  spiders  which  produce  gossamer. 
Whenever  the  insects  thus  circumstanced  were  exposed  to 
a  current  of  air,  either  naturally  or  artificially  produced, 
they  directly  turned  the  thorax  towards  the  quarter  whence 
it  came,  even  when  it  was  so  slight  as  scarcely  to  be  per- 
ceptible, and  elevating  the  abdomen,  they  emitted  from 
their  spinners  a  small  portion  of  glutinous  matter,  which 
was  instantly  carried  out  in  a  line,  consisting  of  four  finer 
ones,  with  a  velocity  equal,  or  nearly  so,  to  that  with  which 
the  air  moved,  as  was  apparent  from  observations  made  on 
the  motion  of  detached  lines  similarly  exposed.  The  spi- 
ders, in  the  next  place,  carefully  ascertained  whether  their 
lines  had  become  firmly  attached  to  any  object  or  not,  by 
pulling  at  them  with  the  first  pair  of  legs;  a'  1  if  the  result 
was  satisfactory,  after  tightening  them  surficiently  they 
made  them  fast  to  the  twigs;  then  discharging  from  their 
spinners,  which  they  applied  to  the  spot  where  they  stood, 
a  little  more  of  their  liquid  gum,  and  committing  them- 
selves to  these  bridges  of  their  own  constructing,  they  pass- 
ed over  them  in  safety,  drawing  a  second  line  after  them  as 
a  security  in  case  the  first  gave  way,  and  so  effected  their 
escape. 

Such  was  invariably  the  result  when  the  spiders  were 
placed  where  the  air  was  liable  to  be  sensibly  agitated:  I 
resolved  therefore  to  put  a  bell-glass  over  them;  and  in  this 
situation  they  remained  seventeen  days,  evidently  unable 
to  produce  a  single  line  by  which  they  could  quit  the 
branch  they  occupied  without  encountering  the  water  at 
its  base  ;  though  on  the  removal  of  the  glass  they  re- 
gained their  liberty  with  as  much  celerity  as  in  the  instances 
already  recorded. 

This  experiment,  which  from  a  want  of  due  precaution 
in  its  management  has  misled  so  many  distinguished  natu- 
ralists, I  have  tried  with  several  of  the  geometric  spiders, 
and  always  with  the  same  success.  Placed  under  the  bell- 
glass,  or  in  any  close  vessel,  they  in  vain  endeavoured  to 
make  their  escape  from  the  branch  to  which  they  were 
confined,  but  in  the  disturbed  air  of  an  inhabited  room 
they  readily  accomplished  their  object. 

Instances  of  long-sustained  abstinence  from  food  by  in- 
sects of  the  genus  Aranea,  unaccompanied  by  any  mani- 
fest diminution  of  vital  energy,  have  been  given  by  various 
observers.  In  adding  another  case  to  the  list  it  is  proper  to 
remark,  that  it  must  be  received  solely  on  my  own  autho- 
rity. 

Some  of  the  spiders  which  produce  gossamer  were  procur- 
ed on  the  2d  of  October,  and  inclosed  in  glass  phials  with 
ground  stoppers,  where  they  were  suffered  to  remain  till  the 
lethof  December,  an  interval  of  seventy-five  days,  without 
either  food  or  moisture;  yet  at  the  expiration  of  that  period, 


176 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


the  only  alterations  perceptible  in  their  external  condition 
were  a  small  decrease  in  bulk,  and  a  slightly  wrinkled  ap- 
pearance, pnrticularly  of  the  abdomen:  but  their  functions 
were  seemingly  unimpaired;  for  on  warm  days,  or  when 
excited  by  artificial  heat,  they  were  lively  in  their  mo- 
tions, and  to  the  last  continued  to  produce  their  threads, 
which  were  often  destroyed  for  the  purpose  of  ascertaining 
whether  they  would  be  replaced  by  others  with  apparently 
the  same  facility  as  at  the  time  of  their  capture. 

It  is  particularly  deserving  of  notice,  that  these  insects, 
though  unable  to  climb  up  the  smooth  perpendicular  sides 
of  the  phials  on  their  first  introduction,  soon  contrived  to 
traverse  the  interior  of  their  prisons  in  every  direction. 

In  order  to  illustrate  their  manner  of  proceeding  on  this 
occasion,  the  case  of  an  individual  has  been  selected  for  de- 
scription,— the  same  method,  with  a  few  trivial  modifica- 
tions, being  pursued  by  all.  Elevating  the  abdomen,  and 
pressing  the  spinning-apparatus  against  the  side  of  the 
phial,  this  spider  emitted  from  its  papillae  a  little  viscous 
fluid,  which  on  exposure  to  the  air  hardened  into  a  minute 
semi-transparent  speck;  then  moving  to  a  short  distance, 
and  drawing  out  a  thread  after  it,  one  end  of  which  re- 
mained fixed  to  the  spot  it  had  connected  this  filament 
with  another  part  of  the  phial  by  applying  the  spinners  as 
before.  Several  lines  being  thus  produced,  the  spider 
speedily  raising  itself  upon  them  above  the  bottom  of  the 
phial,  promoted  its  undertaking  by  repeating  the  process 
just  described;  every  step  so  gained  enabling  it  to  carry  its 
operations  still  higher. 

From  the  cylindrical  figure  of  the  phial,  it  follows  that 
all  the  lines  attached  to  its  sides  by  their  extremities,  such 
as  were  vertical  alone  excepted,  formed  with  those  sides 
chords  to  arcs  of  various  magnitudes.  Lowering  itself  from 
one  of  these  chords  to  another,  and  applying  the  spinners 
to  each  in  succession,  the  spider  soon  connected  the  whole 
of  them  together  by  a  line;  then  ascending  again  to  the 
greatest  altitude  it  could  attain,  and  dropping  down  by  a 
thread  to  the  bottom  of  the  phial,  over  which  it  walked  to 
the  opposite  side;  it  there  drew  the  thread  tight  and  made 
it  fast,  having  prevented  it  from  coming  in  contact  with 
the  glass  previously  by  raising  the  abdomen  a  little.  To 
this  oblique  line  it  united  others,  extending  them  in  differ- 
ent directions,  till  by  these  means  it  established  a  commu- 
nication with  every  part  of  the  phial.  As  there  was  some 
difficulty  in  tracing  these  operations  with  the  unassisted 
eye,  lenses  of  the  magnifying  powers  of  six  and  eight  were 
employed. 

The  spiders  seen  ascending  into  the  atmosphere  on  the 
1st  of  October  were  of  two  distinct  species;  but  as  the 
technical  difference  of  insects  has  engaged  only  a  small 
share  of  my  attention,  I  shall  leave  the  task  of  identifying 


them  to  those  who  are  more  familar  than  myself  with  this 
branch  of  entomology.  The  subjoined  remarks  on  some 
of  the  characteristics  of  these  insects,  which  are  more  con- 
veniently illustrated  by  the  pen  than  the  pencil,  may  serve 
to  facilitate  this  object. 

One  species  has  four  of  its  eight  eyes  much  larger  than 
the  other  four.  Two  pairs  situated  in  the  front  or  fore- 
part of  the  head  are  arranged  thus  °. .° ,  the  relative  size  of 
the  dots  being  nearly  the  same  as  that  of  the  eyes.  The 
other  pair  of  small  ones  is  placed  in  the  upper  part  of  the 
head,  and  on  each  side  of  it  one  of  the  remaining  pair  of 
large  ej'es  is  seated.  The  spider  has  the  abdomen  rather 
depressed;  the  anterior  limbs,  which  it  raises  in  a  menacing 
manner  when  any  thing  approaches  it,  are  longer  than 
the  posterior  ones;  and  it  moves  in  a  lateral  direction  with 
almost  as  much  ease  and  expedition  as  it  does  straight 
forward.  The  largest  individuals  of  this  species  observed 
to  be  conveyed  through  the  atmosphere  by  a  current  of 
air  acting  upon  their  lines,  measured  one-sixth  of  an  inch 
between  the  extreme  points  of  the  head  and  abdomen;  one- 
tenth  of  an  inch  across  the  broadest  part  of  the  abdomen; 
and  weighed  about  a  quarter  of  a  grain. 

The  second  species  has  also  four  eyes  of  a  greater  magni- 
tude than  the  other  four.  The  arrangement  and  relative 
S'ze  of  three  pair  placed  in  the  fore-part  of  the  head  may 
be  thus  expressed  by  dots  :..:  ;  one  of  the  other  pair  of 
large  eyes  being  situated  on  each  side  of  the  head.  Spi- 
ders of  this  species  have  the  last  pair  of  legs  longer  than 
the  first,  and  move  with  great  celerity,  but  rarely  in  a 
lateral  direction.  They  vary  considerably  in  colour,  some 
being  of  a  much  darker  hue  than  others,  and  these  are  fre- 
quently without  the  pale  longitudinal  line  which  extends 
the  whole  length  of  the  thorax,  and  sometimes  even  on 
to  the  abdomen  of  the  lighter-coloured  specimens.  The 
largest  individuals  seen  floating  in  the  air  were  somewhat 
inferior  in  weight  and  dimensions  to  the  largest  of  the  pre- 
ceding species  observed  under  similar  circumstances*. 

Trans.  Linn.  Soc. 

'  Is  this  the  Aranea  dorsalis  of  the  Svstema  Katurw,  Gmelin's  Edit.? 


FOUNTAIN  TREES. 

The  Fountain  Trees  are  very  extraordinary  vegeta- 
bles, growing  in  one  of  the  Canary  Islands,  and  likewise 
said  to  exist  in  some  other  places.  Of  these  remarkable 
trees,  we  have  the  following  account  in  Glasse's  History  of 
the  Canary  Islands:  "There  are  only  three  fountains  of 
water  in  the  whole  island  of  Hiero,  where  the  Fountain 
Tree  grows.  The  great  cattle  are  watered  at  those  foun- 
tains, and  at  a  place  where  water  distils  from  the  leaves  of 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


a  tree.  Many  writers  have  made  mention  of  this  famous 
tree,  some  in  such  a  manner  as  to  make  it  appear  miraculous; 
others  again  positively  deny  its  existence;  among  whom  is 
Feyjoo,  a  modern  Spanish  critic.  But  he,  and  those  who 
agree  with  him  in  this  matter,  are  as  much  mistaken,  as 
those  who  would  make  it  appear  miraculous. 

"  The  author  of  the  '  History  of  the  Discovery  and  Con- 
quest of  the  Canaries,'  has  given  a  particular  account  of  this 
remarkable  vegetable,  which  I  shall  here  insert  at  large: 
The  district  in  which  this  tree  stands,  is  called  Tigulahe; 
near  to  which,  and  in  the  steep  rocky  ascent  that  sur- 
rounds the  whole  island,  there  is  a  narrow  gutter,  com- 
mencing at  the  sea,  and  continuing  to  the  summit  of  the 
cliff,  where  it  is  joined  with  a  valley  that  is  terminated  by 
the  sleep  front  of  a  rock.  On  the  top  of  this  rock  grows  a 
tree,  called  in  the  language  of  the  ancient  inhabitants,  garse, 
or  '  sacred  tree,'  which  for  many  3-ears  has  been  preserved 
sound,  fresh,  and  entire.  Its  leaves  constantly  distil  such 
a  quantity  of  water,  as  is  sufficient  to  furnish  drink  to  every 
living  creature  in  Hiero;  nature  having  provided  this 
remedy  for  the  drought  of  the  island.  Nobody  knows  of 
what  species  this  tree  is,  only  that  it  is  called  (ill,  and 
stands  by  itself  at  the  distance  of  a  league  and  a  half  from 
the  sea.  The  circumference  is  about  twelve  spans,  the 
diameter  four,  and  its  height  from  the  ground  to  the  top 
of  the  highest  branch  forty  spans.  The  branches  are  thick 
and  extended;  the  lowest  commence  about  an  ell  from  the 
ground;  and  the  circumference  of  the  whole  of  them  is 
about  a  hundred  and  twenty  feet.  The  fruit  resembles  an 
acorn,  and  tastes  somewhat  like  the  kernel  of  a  pine-apple, 
but  is  softer  and  more  aromatic.  The  leaves  appear  like 
those  of  the  laurel,  but  are  larger,  wider,  and  more  curved: 
they  come  forth  in  a  perpetual  succession,  so  that  the  tree 
always  remains  green. 

"  On  the  north  side  of  this  tree  are  two  large  tanks,  or  cis- 
terns, of  rough  stone;  or  rather,  one  cistern  divided,  each 
half  being  twenty  feet  square,  and  sixteen  spans  in  breadth. 
One  of  these  contains  water  for  the  drinking  of  the  inhabi- 
tants; and  the  other  that  which  they  use  for  their  cattle  and 
domestic  purposes. 

<'  Every  morning,  near  this  part  of  the  island,  a  cloud  or 
mist  rises  from  the  sea,  which  the  south  and  east  winds 
force  against  the  above-mentioned  steep  cliff;  so  that  the 
cloud  having  no  vent  but  by  the  gutter,  gradually  ascends 
it,  and  from  thence  advances  slowly  to  the  extremity  of  the 
valley,  where  it  is  checked  by  the  front  of  the  rock  which 
terminates  the  valley.  It  then  rests  upon  the  thick  leaves 
and  wide  spreading  branches  of  the  tree,  from  whence  it 
distils  in  drops  during  the  remainder  of  the  day,  until  it  is 
at  length  exhausted;  in  the  same  manner  that  we  see  water 
drip  from  the  leaves  of  trees  after  a  heavy  shower  of  rain. 
Yy 


This  distillation  is  not  peculiar  to  the  garse  or  till,  for 
some  bresos  which  grow  near  it,  also  drop  water;  but  their 
leaves  being  few  and  narrow,  the  quantity  is  so  trifling, 
that  though  the  natives  catch  some  of  it,  yet  they  make 
little  account  of  any  but  what  distils  from  the  garse;  which, 
together  with  the  water  of  some  fountains,  and  what  is  saved 
in  the  winter  season,  is  sufficient  to  serve  them  and  their 
flocks.  The  tree  yields  most  water  in  those  years  when 
the  easterly  winds  have  prevailed  for  a  continuance;  for,  by 
these  winds  only,  the  clouds,  or  mists,  are  drawn  hither 
from  the  sea. 

"  A  person  lives  on  the  spot  near  which  this  curious  tree 
grows,  who  is  appointed  to  take  care  of  it  and  its  water, 
and  is  allowed  a  house  to  live  in,  together  with  a  certain 
salary.  He  every  day  distributes  to  each  family  in  the 
district,  seven  pots  of  water,  besides  what  he  gives  to  the 
principal  people  of  the  island." 

Whether  the  tree  which  yields  water  at  the  present  time, 
be  the  same  as  that  mentioned  in  the  above  description,  we 
cannot  determine;  but  it  is  probable  there  has  been  a  suc- 
cession of  them;  for  Pliny,  describing  the  Fortunate 
Islands,  says,  "In  the  mountains  of  Ambrion  are  trees 
resembling  the  plant  ferula,  from  which  water  may  be  pro- 
cured by  pressure.  What  comes  from  the  black  kind  is 
bitter,  but  that  which  the  white  yields  is  sweet  and 
potable." 

Trees  yielding  water,  however,  are  "not  peculiar  to  the 
island  of  Hiero;  for  travellers  inform  us  of  one  of  the  same 
kind  on  the  island  of  St.  Thomas,  in  the  Gulf  of  Guinea; 
and  in  "  Cockburn's  Voyages,"  we  find  the  following 
account  of  a  dropping  tree,  near  the  mountains  of  Fera  Paz, 
in  America: — 

"  On  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day,  we  came  out  on  a 
large  plain,  in  the  middle  of  which  stood  a  tree  of  unusual 
size,  spreading  its  branches  over  a  vast  compass  of  ground. 
Curiosity  led  us  up  to  it.  We  had  perceived  at  some  dis- 
tance, the  ground  about  it  to  be  wet,  at  which  we  were 
rather  surprised,  as  well  knowing  there  had  no  rain  fallen 
for  near  six  months  past,  according  to  the  certain  course  of 
the  season  in  that  latitude;  and  that  it  was  impossible  to  be 
occasioned  by  a  fall  of  dew,  we  were  convinced  by  the  sun's 
having  power  to  exhale  all  moisture  of  that  nature  a  few 
minutes  after  its  rising.  At  length,  to  our  great  amaze- 
ment, we  saw  water  dropping,  or,  as  it  were  distilling, 
pretty  fast  from  the  end  of  every  leaf  of  this  tree,  which 
might  not  improperly  be  termed  miraculous ;  at  least  it 
was  so  with  respect  to  us,  who  had  been  labouring  four 
days  through  extreme  heat,  without  receiving  the  least 
moisture,  and  were  now  almost  expiring  for  want  of  it. 
We  could  not  help  looking  on  this  as  water  sent  from 
heaven  to  comfort  us  under  great  extremity,  and,  having 


17-8 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


caught  what  we  could  of  it  in  our  hands,  we  liked  it  so 
well,  that  we  could  hardly  prevail  with  ourselves  to  give 
over  drinking. 

"  A  matter  of  this  nature  could  not  but  incite  us  to  make 
the  strictest  observations  concerning  it;  and,  accordingly, 
we  staid  under  the  tree  about  three  hours,  and  found  that 
we  could  not  fathom  its  body  in  five  times.  We  observed 
the  soil  where  it  grew  to  be  very  strong;  and,  upon  the 
nicest  inquiry  we  could  afterwards  make,  both  of  the  na- 
tives of  the  country  and  the  Spanish  inhabitants,  we  could 
not  learn  that  there  was  any  tree  of  a  similar  nature 
throughout  New  Spain,  nor  perhaps  all  America  over.  I 
do  not,  however,  relate  this  as  a  prodigy  in  nature;  because, 
though  I  am  not  philosopher  enough  to  ascribe  any  natural 
cause  for  it,  the  learned  may  perhaps  be  able  to  give  sub- 
stantial reason.s,  for  what  to  us  appeared  a  great  and  marvel- 
lous secret."  Hut  ton. 


PRECIPITATION  OF  SALT  IN  THE  MEDITER- 
RANEAN. 

It  is  well  known,  that  a  powerful  current  sets  con- 
stantly from  the  Atlantic  into  the  Mediterranean,  and  its 
influence  extends  along  the  whole  southern  borders  of  that 
sea,  and  even  to  the  shores  of  Asia  Minor.  Captain  Smyth 
found,  during  his  survey,  that  the  central  current  ran  con- 
stantly at  the  rate  of  from  three  to  six  miles  an  hour,  east- 
ward, into  the  JNIediterranean,  the  body  of  water  being 
three  miles  and  a  half  wide.  But  there  are  also  two  lateral 
currents — one  on  the  European,  and  one  on  the  African 
side;  each  of  them  about  two  miles  and  a  half  broad,  and 
flowing  at  about  the  same  rate  as  the  central  stream.  These 
lateral  currents  ebb  and  flow  with  the  tide,  setting  alter- 
nately into  the  Mediterranean  and  into  the  Atlantic.  The 
escape  of  the  great  body  of  water,  which  is  constantly  flow- 
ing in,  has  usually  been  accounted  for  by  evaporation, 
which  must  be  very  rapid  and  copious  in  the  Mediterra- 
nean; for  the  winds  blowing  from  the  shores  of  Africa  are 
hot  and  dry,  and  hygrometrical  experiments  recently  made 
in  Malta  and  other  places,  show  that  the  mean  quan- 
tity of  moisture  in  the  air,  investing  the  Mediterranean,  is 
equal  only  to  one  half  of  that  in  the  atmosphere  of  England. 
It  is,  however,  objected,  that  evaporation  carries  away  only 
fresh  water,  and  that  the  current  is  continually  bringing  in 
salt  water:  why,  tiien  do  not  the  component  parts  of  the 
waters  of  the  Mediterranean  vary?  or,  why  do  they  remain 
apparently  the  same  as  those  of  the  ocean?  Some  have 
imagined  that  the  excess  of  salt  might  be  carried  away  by 
an  under-current,  running  in  a  contrary  direction  to  the 
superior;  and  this  hypothesis  appeared  to  receive  confirma- 
tion from  a  late  discovery  that  the  water  taken  up  about 


fifty  miles  within  the  Straits,  from  a  depth  of  six  hundred 
and  seventy  fathoms,  contained  a  quantity  of  salt  four 
times  greater  than  the  water  of  the  surface.  Dr.  Wollas- 
ton,  who  analysed  the  water  obtained  by  Captain  Smyth, 
truly  inferred  that  an  under-current  of  such  denser  water, 
flowing  outward,  if  of  equal  breadth  and  depth  with  the 
current  near  the  surface,  would  carry  out  as  much  salt 
below  as  is  brought  in  above,  although  it  moved  with  less 
than  one-fourth  part  of  the  velocitj',  and  would  thus  pre- 
vent a  perpetual  increase  of  saltness  in  the  Mediterranean 
beyond  that  existing  in  the  Atlantic.  It  was  also  remarked 
by  others,  that  the  result  would  be  the  same,  if,  the  swift- 
ness being  equal,  the  inferior  current  had  only  a  fourth  of 
the  volume  of  the  superior.  At  the  same  time  there 
appeared  reason  to  conclude  that  this  great  specific  gravity 
was  only  acquired  by  water  at  immense  depths:  for  two 
specimens  of  the  water  taken  at  the  distance  of  some  hun- 
dred miles  from  the  Straits,  and  at  depths  of  four  hundred, 
and  even  four  hundred  and  fifty  fathoms,  were  found  by 
Dr.  Wollaston  not  to  exceed  in  density  that  of  many  ordi- 
nary samples  of  sea-water.  Such  being  the  case,  we  can 
now  prove,  that  the  vast  amount  of  salt  brought  into  the 
Mediterranean,  does  not  pass  out  again  by  the  Straits.  For 
it  appears,  by  Captain  Smyth's  soundings,  which  Dr.  Wol- 
laston had  not  seen,  that  between  the  capes  of  Trafalgar 
and  Spartel,  which  arc  twenty-two  miles  apart,  and  where 
the  Straits  are  shallowest,  the  deepest  part,  which  is  on  the 
side  of  Cape  Spartel  is  only  two  hundred  and  tioenty 
fathoms.  It  is,  therefore,  evident,  that  if  water  sinks  in 
certain  parts  of  the  Mediterranean,  in  consequence  of  the 
increase  of  its  specific  gravity,  to  greater  depths  than  two 
hundred  and  twenty  fathoms,  it  can  never  flow  out  again 
into  the  Atlantic,  since  it  must  be  stopped  by  the  submarine 
barrier  which  crosses  the  narrowest  part  of  the  Straits  of 
Gibraltar. 

What,  then,  becomes  of  the  excess  of  salt? — for  this  is 
an  inquirj^  of  the  highest  geological  interest.  The  Rhone, 
the  Po,  and  many  hundred  minor  streams  and  springs,  pour 
annually  into  the  Mediterranean,  large  quantities  of  carbo- 
nate of  lime,  together  with  iron,  magnesia,  silicin,  alumina, 
sulphur,  and  other  mineral  ingredients,  in  a  state  of  chemi- 
cal solution.  To  explain  wiiy  the  influx  of  this  matter  does 
not  alter  the  composition  of  this  sea  has  never  been  thought 
to  present  a  great  difficulty  ;  for  it  is  known  that  calcareous 
rocks  are  forming  in  the  delta  of  the  Rhone,  in  the  Adriatic, 
on  the  Coast  of  Asia  Minor,  and  in  other  localities.  Pre- 
cipitation is  acknowledged  to  be  the  means  whereby  the 
surplus  mineral  matter  is  disposed  of,  after  the  consump- 
tion of  a  certain  portion  in  the  secretions  of  testacea  and 
zoophytes.  But  some  have  imagined  that,  before  muriate 
of  soda  can,  in  like  manner,  be  precipitated,  the  whole  Me- 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


179 


diterranean  ought  to  become  as  much  saturated  with  salt  as 
the  brine-springs  of  Cheshire,  or  Lake  Aral,  or  the  Dead 
Sea.  There  is,  however,  an  essential  diflerence  between 
these  cases  ;  for  the  Mediterranean  is  not  only  incompara- 
bly greater  in  extent  than  the  two  last-mentioned  basins, 
but  its  depth  is  enormous.  In  the  narrowest  parts  of  the 
Straits  of  Gibraltar,  where  they  are  about  nine  miles  broad 
between  the  Isle  of  Tariffa  and  Alcanzar  Point,  the  depth 
varies  from  one  hundred  and  sixty  to  five  hundred  fathoms  ; 
but  between  Gibraltar  and  Ceuta,  Captain  Smyth  sounded 
to  the  extraordinary  depth  ol  nine  hundred  and  fifty  fath- 
oms !  where  he  found  a  gravelly  bottom,  with  fragments  of 
broken  shells.  Saussure  sounded  to  the  depth  of  two  thou- 
sand feet,  within  a  few  yards  of  the  shore,  at  Nice.  What 
profundity,  then,  may  we  not  expect  some  of  the  central 
abysses  of  this  sea  to  reach  !  The  evaporation  being,  as  we 
before  stated,  very  rapid,  the  surface  water  becomes  im- 
pregnated with  a  slight  excess  of  salt  ;  and  its  specific  gravi- 
ty being  thus  increased,  it  instantly  falls  to  the  bottom, 
while  lighter  water  rises  to  the  top,  or  that  introduced  by 
rivers,  and  by  the  current  from  the  Atlantic,  flows  over  it. 
But  the  heavier  fluid  does  not  merely  fall  to  the  bottom,  but 
flows  on  till  it  reaches  the  lowest  part  of  one  of  those  subma- 
rine basins  into  which  we  must  suppose  the  bottom  of  this 
inland  sea  to  be  divided.  By  the  continuance  of  this  pro- 
cess, additional  supplies  of  brine  are  annually  carried  to 
deep  repositories,  until  the  lower  strata  of  water  are  fully 
saturated,  and  precipitation  takes  place — not  in  thin  films 
such  are  said  to  cover  the  alluvial  marshes  along  the  western 
shores  of  the  Euxine,  not  in  minute  layers,  like  those  of 
the  salt  "etangs"  of  the  Rhone,  but  on  the  grandest  scale 
— continuous  masses  of  pure  rock-salt,  extending,  perhaps, 
for  hundreds  of  miles  in  length,  like  those  in  the  mountains 
of  Poland,  Hungary,  Transylvania,  and  Spain.** 

The  Straits  of  Gibraltar  are  said  to  become  gradually 
wider  by  the  wearing  down  of  the  cliffs  on  each  side  at 
many  points  ;  and  the  current  sets  along  the  coast  of  Africa 

*  As  lo  the  existence  of  an  inferior  current  flowing  westward,  none  of  the  ex- 
periments made  iu  the  late  survey,  give  any  countenance  whatever  to  this  popu- 
lar notion;  and  it  seems  most  unnecessary  to  resort  to  it,  not  only  because  the 
expenditure  of  the  Mediterranean, by  evaporation,  must  be  immense,  but  because 
it  is  not  yet  proved  that  the  two  lateral  currents,  which  conjointly  exceed  iu 
breadth  that  of  the  centre,  do  not  restore  the  equilibrium,  if  occasionally  dis- 
turbed. They  ebb  and  flow  with  the  tide,  but  they  may  carry  more  water  to  the 
west  than  to  the  east.  The  opinion,  that  in  the  middle  of  the  Straits  the  water 
returned  into  the  Atlantic  by  a  submarine  counter-current,  first  originated  in  the 
following  circumstance.  M.  Du  I'Aigle,  commander  of  a  privateer  called  the 
Phoenix,  of  Marseilles,  gave  chase  to  a  Dutch  merchant  ship,  near  Ceuta  Point, 
and  came  up  with  her  in  the  middle  of  the  gut,  between  Tarifla  and  Tangier, 
and  there  gave  her  one  broadside,  which  directly  sunk  her.  A  few  days  after, 
the  sunk  ship,  with  her  cargo  of  brandy  and  oil,  arose  on  the  shore  near  Tan- 
gier, which  is  at  least  four  leagues  to  the  westward  of  the  place  where  she  sunk, 
and  directly  against  the  strength  of  the  central  current. — Phil.  Trans.,  1724.  It 
seems  obvious,  that  the  ship,  in  this  case,  was  brought  back  by  one  of  the  lateral 
currents;  not  by  an  under  current. 


SO  as  to  cause  considerable  inroads  in  various  parts,  particu- 
larly near  Carthage.  Near  the  Canopic  mouth  of  the  Nile, 
at  Aboukir,  the  coast  was  greatly  devastated  in  the  year  17S4, 
when  a  small  island  was  nearly  consumed.  By  a  series  of 
similar  operations,  the  old  site  of  the  cities  of  Nicopolis, 
Taposiris,  Parva,  and  Canopus,  have  become  a  sandbank. 
LydVs  Geology. 


(ESTRUS  EQUI,  OR  THE  HORSE  GAD  FLY. 

When  the  female  of  this  species  has  been  impregnated, 
and  the  eggs  are  sufficiently  mature,  she  seeks  among  the 
horses  a  subject  for  her  purpose  ;  and  approaching  it  on  the 
wing,  she  holds  her  body  nearly  upright  in  the  air,  and  her 
tail,  which  is  lengthened  for  the  purpose,  curved  inwards 
and  upwards  :  in  this  way  she  approaches  the  part  where 
she  designs  to  deposit  her  egg  ;  and,  suspending  herself  for 
a  few  seconds  before  it,  suddenly  darts  upon  it,  and  leaves 
her  egg  adhering  to  the  hair  :  she  hardly  appears  to  settle, 
but  merely  touches  the  hair  with  the  egg  held  out  on  the 
projecting  point  of  the  abdomen.  The  egg  is  made  to  ad- 
here by  means  of  a  glutinous  liquid  secreted  with  it.  She 
then  leaves  the  horse  at  a  small  distance,  and  prepares  a  se- 
cond egg,  and,  poising  herself  before  the  part,  deposits  it 
in  the  same  way.  The  liquor  dries,  and  the  egg  becomes 
firmly  glued  to  the  hair  :  this  is  repeated  by  various  flies, 
till  four  or  five  hundred  eggs  are  sometimes  placed  on  one 
horse.  The  horses,  when  they  become  used  to  this  fly,  and 
find  that  it  does  them  no  injury,  as  theTabani  and  Conopes, 
by  sucking  their  blood,  hardly  regard  it,  and  do  not  appear 
at  all  aware  of  its  insidious  object.  The  skin  of  the  horse  is 
always  thrown  into  a  tremulous  motion  on  the  touch  of  this 
insect,  which  merely  arises  from  the  very  great  irritability 
of  the  skin  and  cutaneous  muscles  at  this  season  of  the  year, 
occasioned  by  the  continual  teasing  of  the  flies,  till  at  length 
these  muscles  act  involuntarily  on  the  slightest  touch  of  any 
body  whatever. 

"  The  inside  of  the  knee  is  the  part  on  which  these  flies 
are  most  fond  of  depositing  their  eggs,  and  the  next  to  this, 
on  the  side  and  back  part  of  the  shoulder,  and,  less  frequent- 
ly, on  the  extreme  ends  of  the  mane.  But  it  is  a  fact  wortliy 
of  attention,  that  the  fly  does  not  place  them  promiscuously 
about  the  body,  but  constantly  on  those  parts  which  are 
most  liable  to  be  licked  with  the  tongue  ;  and  the  ova,  there- 
fore, are  always  scrupulously  placed  within  its  reach. 

"  The  eggs  thus  deposited  I  at  first  supposed  were  loosen- 
ed from  the  hairs  by  the  moisture  of  the  tongue,  aided  bj^ 
its  roughness,  and  were  conveyed  to  the  stomach,  where 
they  were  hatched  :  but  on  more  minute  search  I  do  not 
find  this  to  be  the  case,  or  at  least  only  by  accident;  for,  when 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


they  have  remained  on  the  hairs  four  or  five  days  they  be- 
come ripe,  after  which  time  the  slighest  application  of 
warmth  and  moisture  is  sufficient  to  bring  forth,  in  an  in- 
stant, the  latent  larva.  At  this  time,  if  the  tongue  of  the 
horse  touches  the  egg,  its  operculum  is  thrown  open,  and  a 
small  active  worm  is  produced,  which  readily  adheres  to  the 
moist  surface  of  the  tongue,  and  is  from  thence  conveyed 
with  the  food  to  the  stomach.  If  the  egg  itself  be  taken  up 
by  accident,  it  may  pass  on  to  the  intestinal  canal  before  it 
hatches  ;  in  which  case  its  existence  to  the  full  is  more 
precarious,  and  certainly  not  so  agreeable,  as  it  is  ex- 
posed to  the  bitterness  of  the  bile. 

"Ihaveoften,  with  a  pair  of  scissars,  clipped  off  some  hairs 
with  eggs  on  them  from  the  horse,  and  on  placing  them  in 
the  hand,  moistened  with  saliva,  they  have  hatched  in  a  few 
seconds.  At  other  times,  when  not  perfectly  ripe,  the  larva 
would  not  appear,  though  held  in  the  hand  under  the  same 
circumstances  for  several  hours  ;  a  sufficient  proof  that  the 
eggs  themselves  are  not  conveyed  to  the  stomach.  It  is  for- 
tunate for  the  animal  infested  by  these  insects,  that  their 
numbers  are  limited  by  the  hazards  they  are  exposed  to. 
I  should  suspect  near  a  hundred  are  lost  for  one  that  arrives 
at  the  perfect  state  of  a  fly.  The  eggs,  in  the  first  place, 
when  ripe,  often  hatch  of  themselves,  and  the  larva,  without 
a  nidus,  crawh  about  till  it  dies  ;  others  are  washed  off  by 
water,  or  are  hatched  by  the  sun  and  moisture  thus  supplied 
together.  When  i  the  mouth  of  the  animal  they  have  the 
dreadful  ordeal  of  the  teeth  and  mastication  to  pass  through. 
On  their  arrival  at  the  stomach,  they  may  pass  mixed  with 
the  mass  of  food  into  the  intestines  ;  and  when  full  grown, 
in  dropping  from  the  animal  to  the  ground,  a  dirty  road  or 
water  may  receive  them.  If  on  the  commons,  they  are  in 
danger  of  being  crushed  to  death,  or  of  being  picked  up  by 
the  birds  who  constantly  attend  the  footsteps  of  the  cattle 
for  food.  Such  are  the  contingencies  by  which  nature  has 
wisely  prevented  the  too  great  increase  of  their  numbers, 
and  the  total  destruction  of  the  animals  they  feed  on. 

"  I  have  once  seen  the  larva  of  this  oestrus  in  the  stomach 
of  an  ass  ;  indeed  there  is  little  reason  to  doubt  their  exis- 
tence in  the  stomachs  of  all  this  tribe  of  animals.  These 
larva  attach  themselves  to  every  part  of  the  stomach,  but  are 
generally  more  numerous  about  the  pylorus,  and  are  some- 
times, though  much  less  frequently,  found  in  the  intestines. 
Their  numbers  in  the  stomach  are  very  various,  often  not 
more  than  half  a  dozen,  at  other  times  more  than  a  hundred  ; 
and,  if  some  accounts  might  be  relied  on,  even  a  much 
greater  number  than  this.  They  hang  most  commonly  in 
clusters,  being  fixed  by  the  small  end  to  the  inner  mem- 
brane of  the  stomach,  which  they  adhere  to  by  means  of  two 
small  hooks,  or  tentacula.  When  they  are  removed  from 
the  stomach  they  will  attach  themselves  to  any  loose  mem- 


brane, and  even  to  the  skin  of  the  hand.  The  body  of  the 
larva  is  composed  of  eleven  segments,  all  of  which,  except 
the  two  last,  are  surrounded  by  a  double  row  of  horny  bristles, 
directed  towards  the  truncated  end,  and  are  of  a  reddish 
colour,  except  the  points,  which  are  black.  The  larvje  evi- 
dently receive  their  food  at  the  small  end,  by  a  longitudi- 
nal aperture,  which  is  situated  between  two  hooks,  or  tenta- 
cula. Their  food  is  probably  the  chyle,  which  being  near- 
ly pure  aliment,  may  go  wholly  to  the  composition  of  their 
bodies,  without  any  excrementitious  residue,  though  on  dis- 
section the  intestine  is  found  to  contain  a  yellow  or  greenish 
matter,  which  is  derived  from  the  colour  of  food,  and  shows 
that  the  chyle,  as  they  receive  it,  is  not  perfectly  pure. 
They  attain  their  full  growth  about  the  latter  end  of  May, 
and  they  are  coming  from  the  horse  from  this  time  to  the 
latter  end  of  June,  or  sometimes  later.  On  dropping  to  the 
ground  they  find  out  some  convenient  retreat,  and  change  to 
the  chrysalis;  and  in  about  six  or  seven  weeks  the  flvappears. 
"  The  perfect  fly  but  ill  sustains  the  changes  of  weather  ; 
and  cold  and  moisture,  in  any  considerable  degree,  would 
probably  be  fatal  to  it.  The  flies  never  pursue  the  horse 
into  the  water.  This  aversion  I  imagine  arises  from  the  chilli- 
ness of  that  element,  which  is  probably  felt  more  exquisite- 
ly b}'  them,  from  the  high  temperature  they  had  been  ex- 
posed to  during  their  larva  state.  The  heat  of  the  stomach 
of  the  horse  is  much  greater  than  that  of  the  warmest  climate 
being  about  102  degrees  of  Farenheit,  and  in  their  fly  state 
they  are  only  exposed  to  GO,  and  from  that  to  about  SO  de- 
grees. This  change,  if  suddenly  applied,  would  in  all  pro- 
bability be  fatal  to  them  ;  but  tiiey  are  prepared  for  it  by 
suffering  its  first  effects  in  the  quiescent  and  less  sensible 
state  of  a  chrysalis.  I  have  often  seen  this  fly,  during  the 
night  time,  and  in  cold  weather,  fold  itself  up  with  the  head 
and  tail  nearly  in  contact,  and  lying  apparently  in  a  torpid 
state  throuarh  the  middle  of  summer."  Nicholson. 


FRESH  AND  SALT  LAKE  OF  MEXICO. 

There  is  no  lake  in  the  world,  we  know  of,  like  this  : 
a  part  of  its  water  is  fresh,  and  the  other  salt  ;  which  gives 
room  to  think  that  there  are  two  sources,  though  but  one 
lake  appears. 

The  fresh  water  seems  stagnant  and  motionless,  and  the 
salt  water  ebbs  and  flows  as  the  sea,  with  this  difference, 
that  it  does  not  follow  the  rule  of  tides,  being  only  produced 
by  the  blowing  of  winds,  which  sometimes  makes  this  lake 
as  tempestuous  as  the  sea. 

The  fresh  water  of  this  lake  is  good  and  wholesome,  and 
affords  plenty  of  small  fish  ;  it  is  higher  than  the  salt  water, 
and  falls  into  it ;  the  part  of  the  lake  that  ebbs  and  flows  is 
brackish,  and  has  no  sort  offish. 


I 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


WILD  SWAN. 


CYGNUS   FEU  US. 

[Plate  XVL] 

(By  John  T.  Sharpless,  M.  D.) 

^nas  cygniis  ferus,  Linn. — Cygnus  ferus,  Briss. — Le 
Cygne  sauvage,  Buff. — Elk,  or  Hooper  Swan,  Ray 
Whistling  Swan,  Lath.  Pennant. — Cygnus  musicus, 
Bechst. — Sioan,  Wilson's  List.  —  IVapa-Seu,  In- 
dians Hud.  Bat. — J.  Doughty's  Collection. 

The  Swan  has  been  emphatically  called  the  peaceful 
monarch  of  the  Lake.  It  is  undoubtedly  tlie  most  beau- 
tiful of  all  the  water-birds,  whether  we  consider  tlie  spot- 
less purity  of  its  plumage,  the  gracefulness  of  its  contour, 
or  the  majesty  of  its  movements.  It  is  in  its  own  element 
alone,  that  it  can  display  its  charms,  being  extremely  awk- 
ward and  inelegant  in  all  its  motions  when  placed  on  its  feet, 
but  when  seen  peacefully  engaged  in  the  excitement  of 
play,  or  calmly  dressing  its  stainless  garb  in  the  lovely  mir- 
ror on  which  it  floats,  it  is  one  of  the  most  agreeable  and 
untiring  ornaments  in  nature. 

The  princely  magnificence  of  the  Swan  has  attracted 
from  the  earliest  day  the  attention  of  every  admirer  of 
the  beauties  of  creation,  and  having  been  chosen  by  the 
ancients  as  the  mansion  of  departed  Poets,  is  sufficient  evi- 
dence of  their  love  and  veneration. 

"  The  Hying  Swan's  last,  sweetest  note," 

was  supposed  to  be  the  departure  of  the  poetic  spirit  to 
happier  realms,  and  although,  to  the  crude  ear  of  moderns, 
the  dj'ing  expiration  of  the  Swan  is  not  wafted  on  the  wings 
of  melody,  the  change  may  have  arisen  from  a  vitiation  of 
musical  taste,  or  perhaps,  as  Morin  says, 

"  The  Swans  that  once  so  sweetly  san^, 
Sing  very  illy  now." 

There  have  been  heretofore  described  but  five  distinct 
species  of  this  bird.  The  wild  Swan  of  Europe,  has  been 
recently  divided  by  Mr.  Yarrell  into  the  Hooper  Swan 
and  Bewick  Swan,  although,  until  this  division,  they  were 
considered  the  same  bird  and  identical  with  the  Swan  of 
America.  2dly,  the  Mute  or  Tame  S.  f  Cygnus  olor,) 
Sdly,  the  Black  Necked  S.  of  the  Falkland  Islands,  (C. 
nigricollisj,  and  the  Black  S.  of  Australia  (C.  atratus.) 

As  the  distinction  drawn  by  Mr.  Yarrell  between  the 
two  species  in  the  common  wild  Swan,  which  he  presumes 
to  hold  good  both  in  the  European  and  American  bird,  can- 
not be  readily  discovered,  and  the  habits  of  both  being 
Z  z 


much  the  same,  I  will  consider  them,  for  the  present,  as 
identical. 

The  Swan  of  which  we  are  now  speaking,  has  spread 
widely  over  the  greater  part  of  the  northern  hemisphere, 
being  found  at  different  seasons,  in  perhaps  every  portion 
of  that  immense  zone  between  the  Arctic  Circle  and  the 
Tropic  of  Cancer,  descending  in  the  autumn  into  Egypt 
and  the  West  India  Islands,  and  during  the  summer, 
disturbing  with  its  harsh  scream  the  solitary  forests  of  the 
Frozen  Ocean.  In  America,  they  were  seen  by  Captain 
Franklin  on  the  shores  of  the  Arctic  Sea,  and  Iceland  is 
but  a  stopping  place  for  crowds  that  pass  to  the  north  even 
of  that  Island.  They  make  their  appearance  at  those  places 
in  April,  and  at  Hudson's  Ba)'  in  March. 

The  journal  of  Major  Long's  Expedition  to  the  Rocky 
Mountains  says,  the  Swans  were  seen  passing  to  the  north 
as  early  as  the  22d  of  February.  They  are  the  first  migra- 
tory birds  that  arrive  at  Hudson's  Bay,  except  a  few  snow- 
birds which  lead  the  van  of  thisvernal  expedition.  The  Swan 
breeds  in  Lapland,  Ka.mtschatka,  Siberia,  Iceland,  and  in 
Hudson's  Bay,  and  in  the  range  of  lakes  and  rivers  found 
to  the  westward  and  northward  of  the  latter  place,  across  the 
whole  American  continent.  They  arrive  at  these  summer 
residences  in  flocks  of  from  twenty  to  one  hundred,  and,  as 
the  spots  suitable  for  the  nests,  are  often  still  frozen,  they 
frequent  the  feet  of  falls  and  rapids,  and  streams  that  can 
be  kept  open  by  splashing  and  beating  with  their  wings  and 
feet.  They  are  strictly  monogamous,  and  breed  in  the 
islands  and  low  ground,  amid  the  reeds  and  grass,  mak- 
ing their  nests  of  leaves  and  sedge.  They  desposit  from  five 
to  seven  eggs  of  a  dirty  white  colour  with  a  shade  of  green, 
<'one  of  which,"  says  Hearne,  "is  sufficient  for  a  mode- 
rate man  without  bread."  The  eggs  hatch  in  July,  and  in 
August  the  moulting  season  arrives,  when  they  are  unable 
to  fly,  and  are  killed  in  Iceland  in  great  numbers  by  dogs, 
who  are  taught  to  seize  them  by  the  neck,  and  at  Hud- 
son's Bay,  by  sticks  and  stones.  They  can,  however,  even 
in  this  state,  far  outstrip  a  canoe,  traversing  the  surface  of 
water  with  the  assistance  of  the  stumps  of  their  wings  and 
feet,  at  a  very  rapid  rate.  The  traveller  just  quoted,  de- 
scribes two  species  of  Swans  that  frequent  Hudson's  Bay, 
one  kind,  weighing  upwards  of  thirty,  and  the  other 
but  about  twenty  pounds;  the  largest  birds  making  the 
loudest  note.  The  smallest  species  keep  the  sea  coast,  and 
are  more  rare  than  the  other,  generally  appearing  but  in 
pairs. 

Writers  on  Iceland  saj',  that  the  yearling  Cygnets  re- 
main there  the  first  year.  In  America,  this  does  not  take 
place,  all  going  off  together. 

About  the  first  of  September,  the  Swans  leave  the  shores 
of  the  Polar  sea,  according  to  Franklin,  and  resort  to  the 


182 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


lakes  and  rivers  in  about  the  latitude  of  Hudson  Bay,  (60°) 
where  they  remain  preparing  for  a  departure  for  the  win- 
ter, until  October,  when  they  collect  in  flocks  of  twenty 
or  thirty,  and  seizing  favourable  weather,  with  the  wind 
not  opposed  to  the  direction  of  their  flight,  they  mount 
high  in  the  air,  form  a  prolonged  wedge  and  with  loud 
screams  depart  for  more  genial  climes.  When  making  either 
their  semi-annual  transmigration,  or  on  shorter  expeditions, 
an  occasional  scream  equal  to  '-  how  do  you  all  come  on 
behind"  issues  from  the  leader,  which  is  almost  immediately 
replied  to  by  some  posterior  Swan  with  an  "  all's  well" 
vociferation.  Whea  the  leader  of  the  party  becomes  fa- 
tigued with  his  extra  duty  of  cutting  the  air,  he  falls  in 
the  rear  and  his  neighbour  takes  his  place.  When  mounted, 
as  they  sometimes  are,  several  thousand  feet  above  the  earth, 
with  their  diminished  and  delicate  outline  hardly  percepti- 
ble against  the  clear  blue  of  heaven,  this  harsh  sound  soften- 
ed and  modulated  by  distance,  and  issuing  from  the  immense 
void  above,  assumes  a  supernatural  character  of  tone  and 
impression,  that  excites,  the  first  time  heard,  a  strangely  pe- 
culiar feeling. 

In  flying,  these  birds  make  a  strange  appearance;  their 
long  necks  protrude  and  present,  at  a  distance,  mere  lines 
with  black  points,  and  occupy  more  than  one  half  their 
whole  length,  their  heavy  bodies  and  triangular  wings 
seeming  but  mere  appendages  to  their  immense  projections 
in  front. 

When  thus  in  motion,  their  wings  pass  through  so  few 
degrees  of  the  circle,  that,  unless  seen  horizontally,  they 
appear  almost  quiescent,  being  widely  diflerent  from  the 
heavy  semi-circular  sweep  of  the  Goose.  The  Swan,  when 
migrating,  with  a  moderate  wind  in  his  favour,  and  mount- 
ed high  in  the  air,  certainly  travels  at  the  rate  of  one  hun- 
dred miles  or  more  an  hour.  I  have  often  timed  the  flight  of 
the  Goose,  and  found  one  mile  a  minute  a  common  rapidity, 
and  when  the  two  birds,  in  a  change  of  feeding  ground, 
have  been  flying  near  each  other,  which  I  have  often  seen, 
the  Swan  invariably  passed  with  nearly  double  the  velocity. 
The  Swan  in  travelling  from  the  northern  parts  of  Ame- 
rica to  their  winter  residence,  generally  keep  far  inland, 
mounted  above  the  highest  peaks  of  the  Alleghany,  and 
rarely  follow  the  water  courses  like  the  Goose,  which  usual- 
ly stop  on  the  route,  particularly,  if  they  have  taken  the 
sea  board.  The  Swan  rarely  pause  on  their  migrating 
flight,  unless  overtaken  by  a  storm,  above  the  reach  of 
which  occurrence,  they  generally  soar.  They  have  been 
seen  following  the  coast  in  but  very  few  instances.  They 
arrive  at  their  winter  homes,  which  is  a  belt  crossing  the 
whole  continent,  and  extending  from  the  latitude  of  40°  to 
Florida,  and  even  to  the  West  India  Islands  and  Mexico,  in 
October  and  November,  and  immediately  take  possession  of 


their  regular  feeding  ground.  They  generally  reach  these 
places  in  the  night,  and  the  first  signal  of  their  arrival  at 
their  winter  abode,  is  a  general  burst  of  melody,  mak- 
ing the  shores  ring  for  several  hours  with  their  vocife- 
rating congratulations,  whilst  making  amends  for  a  long 
fast,  and  pluming  their  deranged  feathers.  From  these  lo- 
calities, they  rarely  depart,  unless  driven  farther  south  by  in- 
tensely cold  weather,  until  their  vernal  excursion.  When  the 
spring  arrives,  a  similar  collection  offerees  as  at  the  north, 
takes  place  in  March,  and,  after  disturbing  the  tranquil 
bosom  of  the  water  for  a  night,  by  incessant  washing  and 
dressing,  and  alarming  the  quiet  neighbourhood  by  a  con- 
stant clatter  of  consulting  tongues,  they  depart  for  the  north 
aboutdaylightwith  a  general/e;<-^c-yo/eof  unmusical  screams. 
The  Chesapeake  Bay  is  a  great  resort  for  Swans  during 
the  winter,  and  whilst  there,  they  form  collections  of  from 
one  to  five  hundred  on  the  flats,  near  the  western  shores, 
and  extend  from  the  outlet  of  the  Susquehannah  river, 
almost  to  the  Rip  Raps.  The  connecting  streams  also  pre- 
sent fine  feeding  grounds. 

They  always  select  places  where  they  can  reach  their 
food  by  the  length  of  their  necks,  as  they  have  never,  so 
far  as  I  can  learn,  been  seen  in  this  part  of  the  world,  to 
dive  under  the  water,  either  for  food  or  safety.  Hearne 
(Jour.  Frozen  Ocean,)  says,  that,  at  Hudson's  Bay,  "hy  div- 
ing,  and  other  manoeuvres,  it  is  impossible  to  take  them  by 
the  hand  when  moulting."  I  have  often  seated  myself  for 
hours,  within  a  short  distance  of  several  hundred  Swans, 
to  watch  their  habits  and  manners,  and  never  saw  one  pass 
entirely  under  the  water,  though  they  will  keep  the  head 
beneath  the  surface  for  five  minutes  at  a  time.  C.  L.  Buona- 
parte, Synop,  Birds,  U.  States,  in  describing  the  genus 
Cygnus  says,  "from  their  conformation  and  lightness  of 
the  plumage,  they  are  unable  to  sink  the  body." 

The  food  they  are  most  partial  to,  is  the  canvass  back  grass, 
(Valisneria  americana,)  worms,  insects  and  shell-fish, 
never  I  believe,  touching  fish,  however  hardly  pressed  for 
support.  The  Geese  and  Swans  frequently  feed,  but  never 
fly, together. 

These  birds  are  so  exceedingly  watchful,  that  if  there  are 
but  three  of  them  feeding  together,  one  will  generally  be 
on  guard,  and  when  danger  approaches,  there  is  some  mute 
sign  of  alarm,  for  I  have  never  heard  a  sound  at  such  times. 
However  much  noise  had  been  made  before,  the  in- 
stant an  alarm  occurs,  there  is  perfect  silence,  their  heads  are 
erected,  a  moment's  examination  determines  the  course, 
when,  if  the  case  be  not  too  urgent,  they  depend  on  swim- 
ming, if  escape  be  necessary.  They  rarely  fly  even  from 
the  pursuitof  a  boat,  unless  very  closely  followed,  and  when 
they  do  arise  from  the  water,  either  for  escape  or  from 
choice,  it  is  generally  with  a  scream,  and  when  alighting. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


18S 


particularly,  if  among  others,  there  is  usually  a  "  how  d'ye 
do"  of  expression  on  all  sides.  Even  when  wing-broken, 
these  birds  can  swim  with  great  rapidity,  and  if  not  other- 
wise hurt,  a  single  oars-man  in  the  best  constructed  boat,  can 
rarely  overtake  them.  A  gentleman  who  resides  on  the 
Chesapeake  near  Bush  River,  informed  me,  that  a  few  years 
since,  he  had  wounded  a  Swan  and  afterwards  cured  and 
tamed  it.  To  prevent  it  from  flying  away,  he  clipped  its 
wing,  but  it  occasionally  escaped  to  the  water,  where 
he  had  often  followed  it  for  several  miles,  with  two 
rowers,  before  he  could  catch  it.  The  unvvounded  birds, 
have  frequently  been  seen  to  collect  around  a  cripple  com- 
panion and  urge  it  to  escape,  pushing  it  forward,  and  I 
have  been  informed  by  good  authorities,  that  they  have 
been  observed  to  place  themselves  on  each  side  of  a  disabled 
Swin,  supporting  a  broken  wing,  and  almost  lifting  the  sub- 
ject of  their  affectionate  care  out  of  the  w^ter. 

Whilst  feeding  and  dressing,  Swans  make  much  noise, 
and  through  the  night,  their  vociferations  can  be  heard  for 
several  miles.  Their  notes  are  extremely  varied,  some,  close- 
ly resembling  the  deepest  base  of  thecommon  tin  horn,  whilst 
others,  run  through  every  modulation  of  false  note  of  the 
french  horn  or  clarionet.  Whether  this  difference  of  note 
depends  on  age,  sex  or  species,  I  am  not  positively  assured. 
Lawson,  a  traveller  in  Carolina,  in  1700,  says,  the  Trum- 
peters are  much  the  largest  birds,  and  make  the  French 
horn  screams,  whilst  the  Hoopers  utter  the  deep  notes.  Hav- 
ing never  jet  satisfied  myself  of  the  existence  of  two  species 
of  the  American  Swan,  I  have  supposed  the  various  voices 
depended  on  age  or  sex,  \he patriarchs  producing  the  deep 
organ  note. 

The  Swan  requires  five  or  six  years  to  reach  its  perfect 
maturity  of  size  and  plumage,  the  yearling  Cygnet,  being 
about  one  third  the  magnitude  of  the  adult,  and  has  fea- 
thers of  a  deep  leaden  colour.  The  smallest  Swan  I  have 
ever  examined,  and  it  was  killed  in  my  presence,  weighed 
but  eight  pounds.  Its  plumage  was  very  deeply  tinted, 
and  it  had  a  bill  of  a  beautiful  ^e.sA  colour,  and  very  soft. 
This  Cygnet,  I  presume  was  a  yearling,  for,  I  killed  one 
myself  the  same  day,  whose  feathers  were  less  dark,  but 
whose  bill  was  of  a  dirty  white;  and  the  bird  weighed  twelve 
pounds.  This  happened  at  a  time  when  my  attention  was 
not  turned  scientifically  to  the  subject,  and  I  have  forgotten 
other  singularities  of  the  specimens.  By  the  third  year, 
the  bill  becomes  black,  and  the  colour  of  the  plumage  less 
intense,  except  on  the  top  of  the  head  and  back  of  the  neck, 
which  are  the  last  parts  forsaken  by  the  colour.  Swans  of 
the  sixth  year,  have  assumed  all  the  characters  of  the  adult, 
and  very  old  birds  have  a  hard  protuberance  on  the  bend 
of  the  last  joint  of  the  wing.  When  less  than  six  years 
of  age,  these  birds  are  very  tender  and  delicious  eating. 


having  the  colour  and  flavour  of  the  Goose,  the  latter  qua- 
lity is,  however,  more  concentrated  and  luscious.  Hearne 
considers  a  Swan  "  when  roasted,  equal  in  flavour  to  young 
heifer  beef,  and  the  Cygnets  are  very  delicate."  As  these 
birds  live  to  a  great  age,  they  grow  more  tough  and  dry  as 
they  advance,  the  patriarchs  being  as  unmasticable  and 
unsavoury,  as  the  Cygnets  are  tender  and  delightful. 

There  are  many  modes  practised  in  the  United  States  of 
destroying  these  princely  ornaments  of  the  water.  In 
shooting  them  whilst  flying  with  the  wind,  the  writer  just 
mentioned  declares,  "  they  are  the  most  difficult  bird  to  kill 
I  know,  it  being  frequently  necessary  to  take  sight  ten  or 
twelve  feet  before  the  bill."  This  I  should  consider  an  un- 
necessary allowance,  unless  driven  by  a  hurricane,  but,  on 
ordinary  occasions,  the  bill  is  aimed  at,  and  if  going  with  a 
breeze,  at  a  long  shot,  a  foot  before  the  bill  would  be 
quite  sufficient.  The  covering  is  so  extremely  thick  on  old 
birds,  that  the  largest  drop  shot  will  rarely  kill,  unless  the 
Swan  is  struck  in  the  neck  or  under  the  wing,  and  I  have 
often  seen  large  masses  of  feathers  torn  from  them,  without 
for  an  instant,  impeding  their  progress. 

When  wounded  in  the  wing  alone,  a  large  Swan  will 
readily  beat  off  a  dog,  and  is  more  than  a  match  for  a  man 
in  four  feet  water,  a  stroke  of  the  wing  having  broken  an 
arm,  and  the  powerful  feet  almost  obliterating  the  face  of  a 
good  sized  duck  shooter.  They  are  often  killed  by  rifle 
balls  thrown  from  the  shore  into  the  feeding  column,  and 
as  a  ball  will  ricochet  on  the  water  for  several  hundred 
yards,  a  wing  may  bedisabled  at  the  distance  of  half  a  mile. 

These  birds  are  often  brought  within  shooting  range, 
by  sailing  down  upon  them  whilst  feeding,  and,  as  they  arise 
against  the  wind,  and  cannot  leave  the  water  for  fifteen 
or  twenty  yards,  against  which  they  strike  their  enor- 
mous feet  and  wings  most  furiously,  great  advantage  is 
gained  in  distance.  They  must  be  allowed  on  all  occasions 
to  turn  the  side,  for  a  breast  shot  rarely  succeeds  in  enter- 
ing. 

When  two  feeding  coves  are  separated  by  a  single  point, 
by  disturbing  the  Swans  in  one  or  the  other  occasionally, 
they  will  pass  and  repass  very  closely  to  this  projection  of 
land,  and  usually  taking  as  they  do,  the  straight  line,  each 
gunner  to  prevent  dispute,  names  the  bird  he  will  shoot  at. 

In  winter,  boats  covered  by  piecesof  ice,  the  sportsman  be- 
ing dressed  in  white,  are  paddled  or  allowed  to  float  during 
the  night  into  the  midst  of  a  flock,  and  they  have  been  often- 
times killed,  by  being  knocked  on  the  head  and  neck  by  a 
pole.  There  is,  however,  much  danger  in  this  mode,  as  others 
may  be  engaged  in  like  manner,  but  shooting,  and  at  a  short 
distance,  the  persons  might  not  be  distinguished  from  the 
Swan.  These  birds  seem  well  aware  of  the  range  of  a  gun, 
and  I  have  followed  them  in  a  skiff  for  miles,  driving  a  body 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


of  several   hundreds  before  me,  without  the  possibility  of 
getting  quite  within  shooting  distance. 

The  skins  of  Swans  still  covered  by  the  down,  which  is 
very  thick,  are  often  used  in  our  country  for  bonnets  and 
tippets,  and  at  Hudson's  Bay,  a  great  trade  formerlj'  existed 
with  the  down  and  quills.  The  Indians  also  employ  the 
skins  for  dresses  for  their  women  of  rank,  and  the  feathers 
for  ornaments  for  the  head. 

It  is  a  curious  circumstance,  that  Wilson  has  neither  fig- 
ured nor  described  this  beautiful  and  common  bird  in  his  Or- 
nithology, but  Mr.  Lawson  the  engraver  of  his  splendid 
plates,  and  also  liis  personal  friend,  informs  me,  he  had 
waited  for  another  southern  expedition,  which  he  did  not 
live  to  perform.  A  particular  history,  in  detail,  of  this 
splendid  bird  has  heretoibre  never  been  given  to  the  public. 
The  following  description  of  the  Genus  Cvgnus  I  have 
taken  from  Buonaparte's  Synop.  Birds.  U.  S.  "  Bill  at  base 
higher  than  broad,  gibbous,  subcylindric  above,  of  equal 
breadth  throughout,  obtuse  :  teeth  lamilliform  :  upper 
mandible  unguiculated  and  curved  at  tip,  lower  shorter, 
narrower,  covered  by  the  margins  of  the  upper,  flattened  : 
nostrils  medial,  oval,  open,  pervious,  covered  by  a  mem- 
brane :  tongue  thick,  fleshy,  broad,  fimbriated  on  the  sides, 
obtuse.  Head  small,  lora  naked  :  neck  longer  than  the 
body  :  body  much  compressed,  elegantly  shaped  :  feet  far 
back,  very  short  and  stout :  wings  long  when  folded,  pri- 
maries hardly  reach  beyond  the  secondaries  :  first  and  fourth 
primaries  equal,  second  and  third  longest. 

"  C.  ferns.  White,  bill  black,  without  protuberance,  bare 
space  round  the  eye  yellow." 

The  American  Swan  is  five  feet  long — bill  three  inches — 
twenty  feathers  in  the  tail  and  weight  from  twenty-four  to 
thirty  pounds. 

The  wild  Swan  differs  from  the  mute  or  tame  Swan, 
according  to  the  "Description  of  the  Menagerieof  the  Zoo- 
logical Society  of  London  published  under  the  direction  of  the 
Institution"  in  having  twelve  ribs  on  each  side,  whilst  the 
tame  has  but  eleven.  There  is  no  protuberance  on  tlie  bill 
as  in  the  tame,  and  in  the  latter,  the  bill  is  of  an  orange  red, 
with  the  exception  of  the  edges,  the  protuberance  on  the 
top,  a  slight  hook  at  the  extremity,  the  nostrils  and  the 
naked  spaces  extending  from  the  base  towards  the  eyes — 
all  of  which  are  black.  The  mute,  carries  the  neck  more 
curved  than  the  other,  and  the  windpipe  passes  into  the 
lungs  without  any  of  the  singular  convolution  presently  to 
be  described.  Buffon  strangely  remarks,  that  this  difference 
in  the  internal  structure  may  be  the  result  of  domestication. 
This  would  be  an  astonishing  effect  produced  by  association 
with  man,  that  the  credulity  of  the  times  even  of  that  writer, 
could  hardly  believe,  still  less,  in  these  days  of  science  and 
discovery. 


Linne  says  the  Wild  Swan  (A.  cygnusfertis)  has  eleven 
on  each  side,  and  the  tame  twelve,  which  is  the  reverse  of 
the  above  description.  Pennant  also  gives  twelve  for  the 
wild  bird  I  have  not  had  an  opportunity  of  ascertaining  the 
number  in  our  own  Swan. 

The  wild  Swan  of  England,  and  that  of  America,  have 
been  till  lately  considered  by  naturalists  as  identical,  and 
consisting  of  but  one  species.  Mr.  Yarrell,  evidently  a  close 
observer  of  nature,  in  a  paper  published  in  the  Linnsean 
Transactions  of  London,  has  asserted  the  existence  of  two 
distinct  species  in  the  Enghsh  wild  Swan,  and  supposes 
there  is  also  the  same  in  America.  His  new  species,  he  calls 
after  the  celebrated  naturalist  Bewick  [Cygnus  bewickii), 
and  says,  it  differs  from  tlie  Hooper  or  the  common 
kind,  in  having  the  bare  space  around  and  before  the 
eyes,  and  over  the  front  of  the  forehead  to  the  extent  of  3-4 
of  an  inch,  orange  yellow — bill  narrow  at  the  middle  and  di- 
latedatthe  point — eyes,  orange-j'ellow — tail  havingeighteen 
feaihers,  whole  length  threefeet  nine  inches  and  weighing  but 
fourteen  pounds;  whilst  in  the  Hooper,  the  bare  space  is  yel- 
low— eyes  brown — sidesof  bill  parallel — tail  having  twenty 
feathers,  whole  length  five  feet  and  weighing  twenty  pounds. 
The  greatest  difference  however,  consists  in  the  arrangement 
of  the  trachea  or  windpipe  in  the  sternum  or  breast  bone. 
This  writer  says,  in  the  Hooper,  the  windpipe  after  pass- 
ing down  the  neck,  continues  on  and  enters  a  chamber 
formed  between  the  two  plates  of  the  keel  of  the  bone,  and 
after  running  to  the  depth  of  three  inches  in  a  bone  of  eight 
and  a  half  inches  in  length,  folds  on  itself,  always  retaining 
the  vertical  position  in  its  doubling,  and  returns  out  at  the 
same  orifice  it  entered  the  keel,  and  winding  round  the 
merry-thought,  {os  furcatoriiim),  takes  the  regular  route 
to  the  lungs. 

In  his  Bewick's  Swan,  a  similar  cavity  is  formed  in  the 
keel  for  the  windpipe,  but  it  continues  back  through 
the  whole  length  of  the  keel,  and  into  the  body  of  the 
sternum  and  forms  a  horizontal cavhy  there,  whilst  in  the 
keel,  the  greatest  diameter  of  the  chamber  is  vertical.  This 
posterior  sack,  is  formed  by  the  separation  of  the  upper  and 
lower  plates  of  the  "  posterior  or  flattened  portion  of  the  breast 
bone,  and  producing  a  convex  protuberance  on  the  inner  sur- 
face." Into  this  posterior  sack,  the  windpipe  enters  after 
traversing  the  whole  length  of  the  cavity  in  the  keel,  and  its 
duplication  changes  from  the  vertical  to  the  horizontal  posi- 
tion, the  loop  occupying  this  round  bony  bag.  In  a  bone 
six  3-S  inches  in  length,  the  depth  of  the  whole  cavity  was 
five  3-4  inches,  showing  an  immense  anatomical  difference 
between  this  Swan  and  the  Hooper.  In  the  oldest  Hooper, 
the  cavity  never  extended  in  the  slightest  degree,  farther 
back  than  the  keel,  and  the  fold  of  the  pipe  never  left  the 
vertical  position  at  any  age  ;  whilst  in  the  Bewick,  in  the 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


youngest  bird  there  was  always  a  chamber  formed  in  the 
flattened  part  behind  the  keel,  even  where  the  wind  pipe 
was  too  short,  from  the  youth  of  the  bird,  tooccupy  it  entire- 
ly. In  these  cases  the  trachea,  passed  into  the  keel  but  re- 
tained the  perpendicular  position  of  the  duplication. 

Mr.  Yarrell  mentions  a  paper  in  the  London  Philos. 
Trans,  for  1766,  on  a  Swan  brought  from  Philadelphia  to 
London,  and  dissected  there,  which  he  considers  of  the  new 
species. 

This  singular  arrangement  of  the  windpipe  of  the  North- 
ern wild  Swan,  has  been  described  by  all  writers  on  the 
bird  for  more  than  a  century.  A  disposition  to  the  same 
formation  is  seen  in  the  New  Holland  Swan,  but  not  to  the 
same  extent,  and  also  in  the  Cranes.  This  peculiarity  of 
the  Swan  is  not  a  sexual  difference,  being  found  in  every  case 
whether  male  or  female,  and  the  development  is  always 
in  exact  correspondence  with  the  age.  This  singular  for- 
mation, it  is  supposed,  is  designed  to  give  intensity  to  the 
voice,  on  the  same  principle  as  the  convolutions  of  the  French 
horn,  although  the  author  of  the  paper  just  alluded  to,  con- 
siders it  necessary  to  enable  the  bird  to  remain  under  the 
water  a  longer  time. 

Having  paid  some  attention  to  the  Swan,  in  relation  to 
its  habits  particularly,  I  am  somewhat  induced  from  my 
observations  to  consider  the  American  Swan  of  but  one 
species,  notwithstanding  the  opinion  of  Hearne,  Lawson 
and  Yarrell,  and  that  species  entirely  distinct  from 
any  other.  I  have  had  an  opportunity  of  examining  five 
prepared  birds  and  five  sternums,  now  in  this  city,  and 
the  distinguishing  marks  between  the  latter  and  those  des- 
cribed by  Mr.  Yarrell  appear  sufficient  to  indicate  a  true 
American  Swan  and  deserving  the  title  oi Americana. 

I  will  here  merely  mention  the  general  lines  of  demarca- 
tion, as  all  my  data  at  this  time,  rests  on  prepared  specimens, 
but  when  the  recent  Swan  can  be  procured,  a  systematic 
examination  of  every  distinguishing  trait  both  external  and 
internal  will  be  made,  when  doubtless  many  other  well 
marked  specific  differences  will  be  discovered. 

All  the  preserved  Swans  of  which  I  have  spoken,  weighed 
when  recent,  more  than  twenty  pounds  and  four  of  them  near 
thirty  pounds — have  twenty  feathers  in  the  tail — bare  space 
on  the  bill  yellow,  and  sides  of  the  bill  parallel,  with  other  ex- 
ternal marks  of  the  Hooper.  The  colour  of  the  eye,  I  can- 
not positively  learn  at  this  time,  some  difference  of  opinion 
existing  even  with  the  preservers  of  these  specimens,  two  of 
them  beautifully  prepared  by  Mr.  John  Doughty,  and  now 
in  his  collection,  having  yellow  eyes,  which  he  assures  me, 
was  the  tint  of  the  original  iris  when  the  birds  came  into 
his  possession,  which  was  several  days  after  being  killed. 
The  Swans  finely  preserved  by  Mr.  Titian  Peale,  and  now  in 
the  Philadelphia  Museum,  have  brown  eyes,  and  a  regular 
3  A 


preserver  of  subjects  of  Natural  History  informs  me,  that 
all  the  Swans  he  has  prepared,  had  black  eyes.  As  age 
may  produce  a  change  in  the  colour  of  the  iris,  all  these  de- 
clarations may  be  correct  in  relation  to  the  particular  cases. 

But  the  breast  bones  which  I  have  mentioned,  have  every 
attribute  of  the  Bewick,  except  being  much  larger.  The 
cavity  passes  through  the  keel  into  the  6o(/yof  the  sternum, 
and  forms  the  horizontal  chamber,  which  is  occupied  to  its 
posterior  extremity  by  the  loop  of  the  trachea,  turning  to 
the  horizontal  position  according  to  the  direction  of  the 
route.  I  have  at  this  time  in  my  possession,  three  perfect 
specimens  of  this  formation,  one  of  which,  was  from  a  bird 
of  the  third  year  and  still  retaining  many  dark  feathers. 
The  horizontal  pouch  in  the  body  of  the  bone,  is  about  an 
inch  in  lateral  diameter,  with  the  trachea  running  to  the 
bottom.  The  next  instance  is  still  more  developed,  and  the 
third,  which  I  know  came  from  an  old  bird,  is  in  its  whole 
length  eight  inches,  and  is  perforated  to  the  depth  of  seven 
and  a  half  inches.  The  chamber  in  the  body  of  the  sternum 
projects  on  the  upper  surface  near  one  quarter  of  an  inch, 
is  three  inches  in  its  lateral  diameter  and  allows  a  vacant 
circle  of  one  and  a  half  inches  in  diameter  w;7/i«Vi  the  loop 
of  the  windpipe.  The  vertical  portion  is  just  one  half  of 
the  whole  duplication. 

If  wide  anatomical  differences  make  distinctions  in 
species,  here  is  certainly  a  broad  line  of  demarcation  be- 
tween our  Swan  and  any  other,  assuming  in  its  structure  a 
middle  course  between  the  Hooper  and  Bewick  Swans,  and 
possessing  many  of  the  characters  of  both. 


THE  DEATH  SONG  OF  THE  SWAN. 

By  Charles  West  Thomson. 

Farewell,  ye  summer  streams  where  I  have  sported 

Full  oft  by  mossy  rock  and  flowery  dell, 
I  lave  no  more  where  once  my  flock  resorted — 

Ye  summer  streams  farewell  ! 

No  more  upon  your  verdant  banks  reclining, 

I  see  your  breast  reflect  the  clear  blue  skies, — 
Ye  quiet  waters  in  the  sun-beams  shining. 

Your  humble  votary  dies. 

Yet  'mid  your  lovely  scenes  where  fairies  wander, 

In  many  a  gay  and  sportive  moonlight  throng, 
I  pause  on  life's  dim  verge  awhile  to  ponder — 
Accept  my  latest  song. 


186  THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 

Accept  the  lay — the  soft  melodious  numbers, 

Vouchsafed  by  Nature  to  my  parting  breath, 
The  gentle  prelude  to  unbroken  slumbers — 

The  symphony  of  death. 


Yet  tho'  no  more  I  rest  in  shady  bowers 

Where  my  youth's  day-spring  saw  the  waters  shine, 
When  death  has  come,  beneath  the  summer  flowers, 
0  quiet  sleep  is  mine. 


I  go,  no  more  to  breathe  among  the  mountains 

The  ambrosial  fragrance,  which  the  wild  flowers  fiin« 
I  go,  no  more  beneath  the  woodland  fountains 
To  wet  my  snowy  wing. 


The  wild  wave  from  the  rock  shall  still  be  springing, 

The  mountain  mists  shall  hover  o'er  the  dell. 
But  I  amidst  them  no  more  shall  be  winging — 

My  native  streams  farewell  ! 


TREATISE  ON  BREAKING  DOGS. 


(Concluded  from  pag^e  1G3.) 

It  is  expected  now,  that  your  Dog  has  acquired  spirit,  thus  keen  after  game,  is,  to  say  the  least,  absurd  and  cruel; 
and  keenness  for  game,  and  the  several  day's  hunt  have  and  it  is  next  to  a  miracle,  if,  after  this  treatment,  a  Dog  is 
produced  habits  of  industry.  The  next  thing,  then,  to  not  utterly  ruined.  I  have  seen  young  Dogs  of  the  finest 
encounter,  is,  that  when  he  is  approaching  game,  he  may  promise,  ruined  in  this  way,  because  in  error,  or  over-zeal, 
show  a  disposition  to  rush  in,  and  flush  it  from  before  the  they  flushed  the  game,  and  were  shot  in  a  most  cruel  man- 
other  Dogs,  while  at  a  stand;  or,  if  you  are  hunting  him  ner,  by  an  unfeeling  master,  while  the  poor  animal,  with 
alone,  before  you  are  sufficiently  near  to  get  a  shot,  you  blood  streaming  from  his  fifty  wounds,  would  cry  most 
must,  of  course,  check  this  disposition  immediately,  but  piteously,  and  with  looks  of  reproach  seemed  to  say,  "  Is 
with  great  prudence.  This  is  the  most  important  point  to  this  the  reward  of  my  faithfulness?  Are  the  errors  com- 
be experienced,  during  the  whole  season  of  training;  and  mitted  in  an  over-zeal  to  serve  you,  to  be  punished  with 
it  often  happens,  at  this  period,  that  many  valuable  young  death-like  cruelty?  Or,  is  it  because  I  have  been  created 
Dogs  are  ruined  forever.  Great  care  and  patience  are  abso-  subservient  to  your  pleasures,  that  you  load  me  with  sor- 
lutely  necessary  in  the  tutor;  and  much  severity  towards  row  and  distress?" — I  hope  to  see  this  inhuman  punish- 
the  young  Dog,  at  this  time,  is  seldom,  if  ever,  attended  ment  of  the  poor  Dog  entirely  abolished:  &t  any  rate,  sporis- 
with  good,  but,  nine  times  out  of  ten,  much  evil.  And  the  men  should  discard  it  from  their  practice.  There  is  but 
plan,  adopted  by  some  men,  of  shooting  their  Dogs,  when  one  instance  in  which  humanity  will  admit  of  this  punish- 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


ment,  and  that  is,  when  your  Dog  is  chasing  or  worrying 
sheep:  and  this  opportunity  seized,  will  effectually  cure  a 
Dog  of  this  propensity,  without  the  necessity  of  destroying 
his  life.  Tlie  eflect  that  this  punishment  has  on  the  Dog,  is, 
to  make  him  "blink,"  or  run  from  the  game,  so  soon  as 
he  smells  it,  or,  after  the  report  of  the  gun,  to  skulk  away 
and  hide  in  the  bushes,  or  go  home. 

I  know  it  is  unpleasant  and  mortifying,  that  a  Dog  should 
thus  rush  in  and  spoil  your  prospects  of  shooting,  and  at  a 
period,  too,  the  most  interesting  to  the  sportsman.  This 
serves  to  irritate,  and  the  master,  in  a  sudden  impulse,  com- 
mits an  act  of  cruelty  towards  his  brute,  which,  in  his  cool, 
reflective  moments,  he  would  justly  condemn;  but  he 
should  remember,  that  it  is  immaturity  and  inexperience  in 
the  Dog,  which  causes  these  seeming  errors,  and  a  little 
forbearance  and  prudence,  at  this  time,  will  produce  the 
happiest  results. 

When  your  Dog  is  approaching  game,  which  is  very  easy 
to  discover,  by  his  greater  keenness  and  short  and  hurried 
ranging,  and  his  wariness  to  draw  closer  to  the  birds,  you 
should  always  warn  him,  by  saying — "  take  heed," 
"mind,"  or,  "be  careful."  These  expressions  will,  if 
used  a  few  times,  strike  his  notice,  especially  if  other  Dogs 
are  near  him,  which  understand  and  obey  the  sounds. 
When  he  has  drawn  so  near  to  the  birds  as  to  make  a  halt, 
you  should  speak  out  distinctly  to  him,  the  magic  word 
"toho."  This  will  recal  to  his  memory,  forcibly,  the 
lessons  you  gave  him  at  home,  and  little  or  no  difBculty 
will  be  experienced  in  bringing  him  to  become  a  staunch 
Dog,  whenever  he  scents  the  game.  He  now  understands 
the  word,  and  the  use  of  it,  ever  after,  will  be  to  him,  the 
signal  of  obedience;  whether  it  be  to  back  other  Dogs,  or 
stand  the  birds  alone.  At  the  first  stand,  however,  that 
the  Dog  makes,  it  will  be  well  for  the  sportsman,  to  endea- 
vour to  get  up  to  him,  in  order  to  caress  him,  and  make 
him  familiar  with  your  presence  while  on  his  stand;  and, 
in  this  situation,  the  word  "toho"  should  be  repeatedly 
used.  This  kindness  to  a  Dog,  and  words  of  encourage- 
ment, when  fulfilling  his  duty,  have  a  most  salutary  effect 
upon  him,  and  should  be  as  readily  embraced,  as  the  con- 
trary treatment,  when  fault  is  committed.  It  is  an  impor- 
tant point  to  make  a  Dog  fear  you,  but  it  is  equally  impor- 
tant to  secure  his  affection;  as  between  the  two  you  can 
manage  him  to  your  mind.  Next  to  training  your  Dog  to 
stand,  it  is  important  he  should  be  taught  to  back-set  the 
other  Dogs,  which  may  be  effected  when  the  old  Dogs  are 
at  a  stand,  by  bringing  the  young  Dog  up  to  them,  so  as  to 
get  the  scent  of  the  game,  and  then,  by  using  the  expres- 
sion "  toho,"  it  will  produce  the  necessary  effect.  When 
you  discover  one  Dog  at  a  stand,  especially  in  high  grass 
or  bushes,  it  should  be  an  invariable  rule  ia  the  sportsman, 


to  use  this  word,  as  it  will  give  the  other  Dogs  notice  of 
the  presence  of  game,  and  cause  them  immediately  to  look 
around  for  the  cause  of  this  expression,  when  they  will 
most  likely  discover  the  Dog  at  his  stand  and  immediately 
back  him.  To  enforce  this  more  particularly  on  the  young 
Dog's  attention,  the  "toho"  should  be  accompanied,  in  this 
case,  with  a  sign,  by  raising  the  hand.  Should  you,  how- 
ever, find  great  difficulty  in  breaking  your  Dog,  to  back  or 
stand,  by  these  ordinary  rules,  your  next,  and  perhaps  only 
plan,  will  be  the  trail-cord,  or,  as  some  writers  call  it,  the 
"  trash-cord,"  and  whip.  This  cord  is  about  twenty  or 
thirty  yards  in  length,  of  the  thickness  of  a  small  quill,  to 
be  fastened  to  the  collar  around  the  Dog's  neck,  and 
dragged  by  him  through  the  stubble.  As  this,  however,  is 
attended  with  much  labour  on  the  part  of  the  Dog,  it  would 
be  well  to  select  some  field  where  you  know  there  is  a 
covey  of  birds;  and,  in  ranging  about,  the  moment  he 
approaches  them,  he  will  first  halt,  and  then  spring  at  them, 
with  a  view  of  catching  them:  this,  then,  is  your  time  to 
check  him.  When  he  makes  a  halt,  seize  the  cord,  and 
when  you  give  it  a  slight  pull,  cry  out  sharpl}',  "toho,"  and 
also  do  the  same  when  backing  other  Dogs.  Should  he  still 
prove  restive,  a  smart  application  of  the  whip,  also,  will 
answer.  A  very  few  lessons  of  this  kind,  will  amply 
reward  the  sportsman  for  his  trouble;  and  he  ought  never 
to  be  discouraged  at  the  prospective  difficulties  of  training 
a  Dog,  when  measures  of  this  kind  are  necessary,  as  it  gene- 
rally is  the  case,  that  this  description  of  Dogs,  after  being 
trained,  are  of  the  first  order.  One  of  the  finest  Dogs  I 
ever  shot  over,  I  had  to  train,  both  with  the  muzzle-peg 
and  trail-cord,  and  I  believe  every  other  plan  would  have 
failed;  and  his  spirit,  or  impetuosity,  was  so  extreme,  that 
I  frequently  through  impatience  was  going  to  relinquish 
him  altogether,  as  incorrigible,  but  with  steady  perse- 
verance, I  had  the  satisfaction  to  make  him  a  superior  Dog. 
Having  succeeded  in  getting  your  Dog  to  back  and  stand 
well,  the  next  very  important  thing  to  observe,  is,  to  watch 
your  own  actions.  A  very  trifling  fault  on  your  part,  may 
have  an  injurious  effect  on  your  Dog.  Therefore,  when  at 
the  very  interesting  moment  of  their  approach  to  game, 
evince  no  eagerness,  and  interfere  but  little  with  their 
actions,  but  be  silent  and  composed  until  they  make  a  final 
stop;  and  the  few  warning  words  necessary,  should  be 
addressed  in  a  low  and  moderate  voice.  Now  then,  as  be- 
fore stated,  is  your  time  to  caress  the  young  Dog;  after 
which,  walk  boldly  up  to  the  game  and  flush  it,  and,  if 
successful  in  your  shot,  show  the  bird  to  the  young  Dog. 
It  should  be  your  invariable  rule,  to  flush  the  game  your- 
self; and  never,  on  any  account,  suffer  your  Dogs  to  break 
from  their  point  and  do  it  for  you.  And  to  prevent  this, 
you  should  walk  deliberately  to  the  game,  and  never  run; 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


for  should  you  show  too  much  eagerness,  it  will  make  your 
Dogs  impetuous  also,  and  the  least  staunch  Dog  will  cer- 
tainly rush  in  and  spoil  your  shot.  Besides  producing  a 
habit  of  impatience  in  the  Dog,  it  unfits  the  sportsman  for 
that  deliberation  necessary  to  success.  At  every  fire,  the 
master's  first  care  should  be  to  observe  his  Dog,  and  rather 
lose  the  bird  than,  by  any  neglect,  injure  the  Dog.  There- 
fore, immediately  after  shooting,  the  Dog  should  be  called 
in,  and  made  to  lie  at  your  feet,  by  using  those  expressive 
words,  as,  "down,"  "close,"  or  ^^  down  charge,"  and  not 
in  any  wise,  be  suflered  to  leave  you,  or  chase  the  bird,  until 
you  are  prepared  for  the  game  which  may  spring  up  around 
you.  Then  give  a  sign  of  your  readiness,  as  hold  off. 
The  sportsman  who  will  observe  this  rule  strictly,  cannot 
fail  to  have  fine  shooting,  whenever  he  gets  his  birds  into 
good  cover.  I  have  seen  Dogs  possessing  every  desirable 
quality  but  this,  so  spoil  the  sport  on  the  first  covey  of  birds, 
as  to  dampen  the  pleasure  of  a  whole  day's  excursion; 
therefore,  too  much  care  cannot  be  observed  in  this  point 
of  training. 

A  man  should  study  well,  and  become  perfectly  acquaint- 
ed with  the  disposition  of  the  animal  he  attempts  to  educate 
— on  this  depends  in  a  great  measure  his  success  in  training, 
for  the  dispositions  of  Dogs  vary  like  those  of  men.  Some- 
times it  is  improper  to  hunt  a  high  spirited  young  Dog  in 
company  with  an  old  well  broken  Dog,  as  it  frequently  hap- 
pens that  the  latter  will  excite  the  jealousy  and  impetuosity 
of  the  former,  which,  in  his  ambition  to  excel,  will  com- 
mit many  errors,  that  he  would  not  if  hunted  alone,  and 
draw  on  himself,  the  undeserved  displeasure  of  his  master. 
Again,  other  young  Dogs,  are  mere  imitators,  and  will  only 
follow  the  wake  of  an  old  Dog  during  the  whole  day,  in- 
stead of  hunting  seperately  and  independently— while  some 
will  bear  the  most  severe  chastisement,  and  others  frighten- 
ed at  merely  the  sight  of  a  whip— of  this  the  sportsman 
must  judge  and  act  according  to  these  varieties. 

During  the  process  of  training  a  Dog,  the  whip  will  cer- 
tainly be  a  necessary  auxiliary,  but  much  judgment  is  ne- 
cessary to  use  it  properly,  which  can  only  be  done  by 
knowing  the  disposition  of  the  Dog  ;— every  error  should 
be  punished,  but  according  to  its  demerit,  and  a  regular  sys- 
tem of  training  must  be  commenced  and  continued,  without 
relaxing  the  least  in  discipline,  for  the  Dog  will  take  advan- 
tage of  every  oversight  of  yours  to  his  faults,  and  lenience, 
in  case  of  necessary  chastisement,  will  injure  him  more 
than  undeserved  punishment  ;  and  being  educated  with  this 
discipline  he  will  always  expect  fromyour  hands  somenotice 
of  his  errors,  whether  accidental  or  intentional,  and  punish- 
ment should  be  meted  out  commensurate  with  his  deserts, 
from  an  angrily  spoken  word,  to  the  severity  of  the  whip. 
Another  rule  from  which  the  sportsman  should  never 


deviate,  is,  always  to  make  your  Dog  come  to  you,  to  be 
chastised  *this  is  an  important  point  to  obtain — as  in  this 
case,  he  will  on  every  error,  no  matter  how  trivial,  come  to 
you  for  correction,  and  crouch  at  your  feet,  when  he 
must  always  be  noticed — but,  should  tlie  opposite  plan 
be  adopted  by  a  sportsman,  of  running  up  to  his  Dog  to  flog 
him,  he,  after  the  first  severe  chastisement,  will  run  from  and 
avoid  you,  and  on  every  offence,  will,  upon  your  scolding 
him,  most  likely  liedown  in  the  field — but  the  greatest  dis- 
advantage is,  that,  when  a  dog  may  be  hunting  in  a  swamp 
or  difficult  place,  and  commits  error,  harsh  words  will  have 
the  tendency  to  keep  him  out  of  sight,  and  no  persuasion  what- 
ever will  bring  liim  to  you  ;  you  then,  cannot  get  to  him,  and 
he  will  not  come  to  you  ;  he  will  therefore,  be  worse  than 
useless.  Consequently,  habituate  him  to  come  to  you  for 
chastisement,  in  the  early  stage  of  training,  and  before  you 
take  him  to  the  field,  and  you  will  soon  discover  the  impor- 
tance of  thislesson. 

A  Dog  should  be  broken  with  as  few  words  and  little 
noise  as  possible,  and  with  thesewords  should  be  used  signs,  as 
moving  the  hand  right,  left,  forward,  and  toward  you,  accord- 
ing to  to  the  direction  you  wish  the  Dog  to  go — he  will  soon 
learn  these  signs,  and  his  obedience  to  them  will  prevent 
far  ranging — a  Dog  may  be  learned  to  quarter  a  field  hand- 
somely, in  this  way,  if  while  waving,  the  master  will  also 
walk  the  direction — the  whistle  is  recommended  and  used 
by  many  sportsmen  ;  but  I  never  could  see  much  advantage 
arising  from  its  use  ;  they  who  choose  can  adopt  it  if  they 
think  proper. 

The  plan  recommended  by  some  writers,  never  to  suffer 
your  Dog  to  break  field,  is  nothing  more  than  a  reiterationof 
the  old  English  rule,  and  enjoined,  because  others  have 
adopted  it,  without  any  good  reasons  given,  why  it  should 
be  enforced,  is  in  my  view,  altogether  useless.  In  a  coun- 
try like  ours,  where  it  sometimes  occurs  you  are  hunting 
in  fields  of  but  few  acres,  this  rule  could  not  be  enforced 
without  detriment  to  the  Dog,  or  injury  to  your  own  com- 
fort. Being  frequently  surrounded  by  fields,  in  each  of 
which  you  may  probably  find  a  covey,  you  are  left  uncertain 
of  the  fact  until  your  Dog  has  faithfully  hunted  the  first  field 
you  enter,  and  he  discovers  by  their  trail,  they  are  in  the  adjoin- 
ing field,  and  crosses  the  fence,  to  draw  upon  the  game;  now  is 
it  not  better  that  the  Dog  should  keep  his  point,  than  that 
he  should  be  called  back  to  the  original  field,  because  affect- 
ed etiquette  says,  you  and  he  must  leave  together  ?  The 
plan  may  answer,  where  you  find  fields  containing  from 
thirty  to  one  hundred  acres,  and  you  in  danger  of  losing 

*  When  chastising  a  Dog,  you  should  avoid,  kicliing  him  in  the  sides,  sinking 
him  over  the  head,  puuchinghim  with  the  butt  of  yourgun,  pulling  him  bythe.ears, 
or  throwing  any  missiles  at  him;  a  training  whip  should  be  provided,  and  alway* 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


your  Dog — but  there  are  few  sportsmen  to  be  found  now, 
who  will  prohibit  a  Dog  from  leaving  any  moderate  sized 
field  solus,  if  they  think  he  is  approaching  game.  If 
my  Dog  be  properly  broken,  and  I  have  confidence  in  his 
staunchness,  I  would  much  rather  trust  his  nose  and  judg- 
ment, than  my  knowledge;  for  to  attempt  to  correct  a  Dog, 
and  instruct  him  according  to  your  notions,  when  he  winds 
the  game,  and  knows  better,  is  only  playing  the  fool  with 
him,  and  being  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  you,  he  may  be  in- 
jured, beside  spoiling  your  own  sport.  Many  a  covey  of 
quails  have  escaped  because  the  wise  sportsman  chose  to 
make  his  dog  act  contrary  to  his  instinct. 

If  a  Dog  is  trained  well  when  young,  he  never  will  go  so  far 
from  you,  but,  that  a  moderate  sound  may  reach  his  ears,  and 
therefore,  I  condemn  the  whistle  and  other  noise  ;  if  a  Dog 
is  broken  to  cither  the  whistle  or  many  words,  he  will 
always  take  the  liberty  to  range  as  far  from  you,  as  these 
sounds  can  be  heard,  for,  depending  on  them,  he  seldom 
looks  at  his  master,  and  only  knows  of  his  error,  when  he 
can  no  longer  hear  them;  but,  train  a  Dog  to  a  few  words, 
and  the  waving  of  your  hands,  and  he  will  not  range  too 
far  from  you,  he,  depending  on  your  actions  for  instruction, 
will  keep  near  you,  that  he  may  see  clearly,  and  obey  the 
direction  you  wish  him  to  go.  There  is  nothing  more  un- 
pleasant than  to  hunt  in  company  with  those  who  are  whist- 
ling, blustering,  and  hallooing  at  their  Dogs  :  for,  setting 
aside  the  unpleasantness  of  their  noise,  it  often  deranges  the 
Dogs,  frightens  the  game,  and  destroys  much  sport. 

I  most  strenuously  recommend  that  a  Dog  should  be  learned 
to  bring  the  game,  although  many  sportsmen  condemn  it  as 
injurious  for  several  reasons;  the  first  they  say  is  the  danger 
of  the  Dog's  flushing  the  game,  when  running  for  the  shot 
bird  ;  the  second  is,  that  after  the  Dog  attains  some  age,  he 
becomes  hard  mouthed,  and  mashes  the  bird;  and  the  other 
reason  is,  that  it  causes  a  scuffle  whenever  there  are  several 
Dogs  in  company.  In  answer  to  these  reasons,  I  would  re- 
mark, that  there  is  scarcely  any  habit  in  a  Dog  but  by  pro- 
per treatment  may  be  altered,  and  it  proves  only  a  deficiency 
in  trainingthem,  if  these  bad  habits  are  preserved  in  theDogs, 
but  a  Dog  may  and  ought  to  be  trained,  to  bring  the  game 
or  drop  it,  at  the  master's  pleasure;  this  can  also  be  done,  at 
the  time,  and  by  adopting  the  plan  recommended  in  the 
former  part  of  this  treatise.  At  all  events,  in  a  country  like 
this  which  abounds  with  streams,  thickets,  and  other  diffi- 
cult places,  the  advantages  of  having  a  Dog  to  find  and  bring 
dead  game,  will  more  than  counterbalance  other  inconveni- 
ences. I  believe  no  sportsman,  who  has  a  good  Dog  which 
will  do  this,  thinks  the  worse,  or  objects  to  him  on  that  ac- 
count; and  objections  to  this  plan  are  raised  by  those  who 
have  no  Dogs  of  this  kind,  and  are  unacquainted  with  the  ad- 
vantages arising  from  the  practice. 
3  B 


One  of  the  most  difficult  things  to  break  a  Dog  of,  is  the 
habit  of  chasing  rabbits,  but,  as  has  been  before  stated,  there 
is  no  practice  so  deeply  rooted  in  a  Dog,  but  if  taken  in  time 
may  be  corrected,  so  this  may  be  reformed  also;  and  in  the 
first  place  a  sportsman  should  never  shoot  a  rabbit  in  sight 
of  his  Dog,  or  carry  one  in  his  game  bag,  as  the  Dog,  in  this 
case,  very  naturally  supposes,  it  is  as  much  the  object  of  your 
pursuit  as  the  quail  or  partridge;  now,  if  the  master  will 
never  shoot  a  rabbit  in  his  Dog's  presence,  and  secondly, 
will  severely  flog  him  for  the  two  or  three  first  offi;nces,  I 
will  guarantee  there  will  be  no  difficulty  on  this  score,  and  no 
necessity  to  resort  to  those  cruel  practices  of  shooting  the 
Dog,  and  "  thrusting  a  wire  through  the  cartilaginous  part  of 
his  nose,"  and  affixing  to  this  a  cord,  to  which  must  be  tied 
a  hare,  and  made  to  spring  about  and  with  a  smart  application 
of  the  whip,  inflict  pain  on  the  dog,  while  exclaiming  ^^ware 
hare.'''' 

Some  Dogs  after  being  trained,  are  so  fond  of  the  gun,  that 
they  will  follow  any  person  with  a  gun  who  calls  them;  to 
break  them  of  this  is  a  thing  to  be  much  desired  ;  for,  should 
he  be  a  superior  Dog,  the  person  who  allures  him  from  his 
home  will  be  loth  to  return  him,  and  is  often  induced  to  ap- 
propriate to  his  own  pleasures  by  using,  or  profit  by  selling 
that  property  whicli  belongs  to  another. 

To  break  a  Dog  of  this  disposition,  I  would  recommend 
that  the  owner,  getsome  person,  a  stranger  to  the  Dog,  to  pro- 
cure a  gun,  and  entice  the  animal  some  considerable  distance 
from  his  home,  when  he  should  be  seized  roughly  by  the 
neck,  and  the  whip  applied  with  considerable  severity,  after 
which  ordered  home;  this  plan  followed  once  or  twice,  will 
completely  break  him  of  the  propensity. 

Dogs  should  not  be  permitted  to  spring  on  their  master 
or  any  other  person  with  their  feet;  it  is  a  bad  practice,  and 
the  ofi'ender  should  always  be  punished  for  it — and  the  fol- 
lowing receipt  to  break  them  of  chasing  poultry  is  select- 
ed. "  Respecting  poultry,  if  you  find  the  whip  insufficient 
to  restrain  him,  take  a  cleft  stick,  to  one  end  of  which  tie 
a  living  fowl,  and  insert  the  dog's  tail  in  the  cleft  at  the 
other,  and  tie  it  in  tight,  so  as  to  cause  him  some  pain, 
then  give  him  a  few  stripes  with  a  whip,  and  let  him  run 
ofi';  when  he  has  tired  himself,  and  refuses  to  run  any  longer, 
take  the  stick  from  his  tail,  and  beat  him  well  about  the 
head  with  the  fowl;  apply  the  whip  also  smartly;  after  this 
there  will  be  little  reason  to  fear  his  running  at  fowls  again. 
If  a  Dog  be  allowed  to  kill  poultry  unpunished,  it  will 
make  him  hard-mouthed  and  apt  to  break  his  game;  to  say 
nothing  of  the  injury  he  may  do  to  his  master  or  neigh- 
bours." 

A  Dog  should  always  be  fed  with  wholesome  food;  a 
hearty  meal  consisting  of  boiled  meat,  with  some  Indian 
bread  or  mush,  and  milk.     Once  a  day  is  sufficient  for  any 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


Dog  in  a  state  of  idleness;  but  two  meals  are  necessary  dur-  growing  near  the  edge  of  the  water,  from  which  proceeded 
ing  the  hunting  season;  and  at  all  times,  a  constant  supply  of  a  most  singular  noise,  accompanied  by  a  considerable  splash- 
good,  clear,  and  cold  water,  if  possible,  should  be  placed     ing  of  the  water;  unable,  on  my  first  approach,  to  discover 


within  the  Dog's  reach.  No  sportsman  should  give  his  Dog 
water,  which  he  would  not  be  willing  to  drink  himself,  and 
it  is  disgraceful  in  any  man,  who  keeps  this  animal  confined, 
and  permits  him  to  drink  stinking  filth  from  the  gutter 
and  slop  tub,  when  his  fever  or  parching  thirst  calls  for  the 
best  and  most  cooling  water. 

A  Dog  is  in  the  best  condition  for  hunting  when  he  is 
not  very  fleshy,  both  extremes  of  being  over-fat  or  over- 
poor,  are  detrimental  to  the  comfort  and  ability  of  a  Dog 


the  cause,  owing  to  the  height  of  the  weeds,  and  my  dis- 
tance from  the  spot,  I  gained  nigher  access,  by  means  of  a 
fallen  tree,  and  to  my  surprise  and  exceeding  interest,  I 
saw  a  violent  combat  between  a  Snake  and  an  Eel.  The 
former  was  of  the  water  species,  and,  as  nigh  as  I  could 
judge,  about  four  feet  in  length — the  latter  was  much  short- 
er, but  equal  if  not  superior  in  thickness;  how  long  the 
combatants  had  been  waging  this  war,  was  difficult  to  deter- 
mine, but,  by  judging  from  their  vigorous  efforts,  when  I 


to  hunt,  and  should  be  avoided.  To  keep  a  Dog  in  proper  first  discovered  them,  I  suppose  they  must  have  just  corn- 
trim,  he  should  have  plenty  of  exercise,  but  especially  be-  menced.  For  a  considerable  length  of  time,  neither  par- 
fore  the  shooting  season  commences;  and  every  gentleman  ty  appeared  to  gain  advantage — their  muscular  actions  were 
who  rides  in  the  afternoon  should  give  his  Dog  a  good  run  violent  in  the  extreme  and  appeared  to  engage  in  deadly 
to  the  country;  this  gives  him  an  opportunity  to  eat  grass,  strife.  Whenever  the  eel  succeeded  in  drawing  its  antago- 
and  hardens  him  to  fatigue,  and  disrobes  him  of  superfluous  nist  a  short  distance  into  the  water,  (and  its  chief  efforts  ap- 
peared to  be  directed  to  this  end,)  it  was  evident,  the  snake 
was  no  match  for  it;  and  this,  the  snake  was  aware  of,  and 
would  redouble  its  exertions  to  regain  the  shore,  and  bring 
the  eel  with  it,  then  the  battle  would  be  in  favour  of  the 
snake;  each  evidently  endeavoured,  to  wage  war  against  the 
other  on  his  own  favourite  element,  and  so  would  it  pre- 


flesh. 

When  sickness  approaches  a  Dog,  nature  points  out  to  him 
the  use  of  grass,  as  a  preventative  or  remedy,  and  it  is  neces- 
sary, that  this  vegetable  should  be  placed  vvithin  his  reach, 
and  every  gentleman  who  can,  should  grow  a  small  quan- 
tity of  oats,  (being  an  excellent  substitute  for  grass,)  in  his 


yard,  which  will  be  readily  eaten  by  the  Dog.  Every  Dog  ponderate,  according  as  each  succeeded  in  getting  this  ad- 
should  have  a  good  kennel  provided  for  his  comfort,  and  on  vantage  of  its  adversary — the  eel  appeared  to  lose  that  pow- 
no  account  be  permitted  to  enter  the  dwelling.  This  prac-  erful  energy,  when  rolling  in  the  dirt,  which  belongs  to 
tice  should  be  deprecated;  what  is  more  unpleasant  than  to  it  in  its  native  element,  and,  it  was  as  sensible  as  the  snake 


see  a  Dog  lounge  about  the  parlour,  bed-rooms,  or  stretch 
himself  at  full  length  before  a  fire,  to  the  great  inconvenience 
of  the  family,  and  the  injury  of  the  Dog?  A  Dog,  housed  in 
this  way,  is  seldom  hardy  enough  to  stand  much  fatigue, 
or  the  inclemencies  of  the  winter  season.  These  rules  are 
now  submitted  to  all  who  desire  to  become  acquainted  with 
the  principles  of  training  Dogs.  The  theory,  however,  is 
not  of  great  value,  unless  accompanied  with  much  practice, 
and  the  first  impressions  you  give  your  dog,  and  the  pro- 
gress he  makes  during  the  first  season  of  hunting,  general- 
ly determines  his  value,  and  whether  he  will  be  worth  your  nessed,  I  have  communicated  it  for  insertion  in  your  va- 
trouble  and  expense    of  keeping   him.      I  shall   hereafter     luable  work.  T.  M. 

treat  on  the   diseases  of  Dogs,  their  treatment,  and  on  the         July  6lh,  1831. 
principles  of  shooting.  I. 


of  the  difference,  and  would  also  by  increased  effort  get 
back  again  into  the  water  with  the  snake.  At  times  they 
were  completely  encircled  in  each  others  folds,  and  although 
their  rage  was  manifested  by  the  manner  in  which  they 
would  continually  bite  each  other,  yet  their  whole  efforts 
were  devoted  to  their  muscular  strength  to  decide  the  vic- 
tory. After  continuing  this  interesting  combat  for  rather 
more  than  ten  minutes,  they  separated  mutually — the  eel 
returning  to  its  native  bottom,  and  the  snake  to  the  grass. 
Believing  that  a  circumstance  of  this  kind  is  seldom  wit- 


BATTLE  BETWEEN  A  SNAKE  AND  AN  EEL. 

Messrs  Editors, 

While  I  was  walking,  a  few  days  since,  along  the  bank 
of  a  shaded  creek,  a  few  miles  from  Philadelphia,  my 
attention  was   attracted    towards   some   weeds   that   were 


AN  ENCOUNTER  WITH  WOLVES. 

The  Deer  in  the  vicinity  of  the  prairies,  of  which  I  have 
been  speaking,  are  very  large.  Some  of  them  weigh  from 
150  to  200  pounds.  Wild  Turkeys  too,  are  here  numerous 
and  they  sometimes  weigh  from  20  to  30  pounds.  But 
facts  like  these  unduly  afiect  the  imagination.      These  kinds 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS 


191 


of  game  cannot  always  be  found;  the  toils  of  the  chase  are 
frequently  unrewarded  ;  and  many  who  have  settled  in  the 
west  with  lively  feeling  upon  this  topic,  have  abandoned  this 
precarious  source  of  profit. 

For  several  days,  I  had  been  employed  in  crossing  vast 
prairies.  The  weather  continued  moderate,  the  snow, 
water,  and  mud  were  deep,  and  wading  laborious.  I  fre- 
quently met  with  considerable  freshets,  and  the  banks  of  the 
creeks  were  overflown.  Here  I  saw  vast  flocks  of  wild 
geese  flying  towards  Sandusky  Bay.  Their  hoarse  notes, 
proceeding  from  the  misty  air,  rendered  even  more  solitary 
a  trackless  and  almost  illimitable  plain  of  high  and  coarse 
grass.  I  was  repeatedly  lost  in  these  prairies  ;  and  found 
it  necessary  to  calculate  my  way  by  compass  and  maps. 

Within  about  twenty  miles  of  the  famous  Black  Swamp,  I 
entered,  late  in  the  afternoon,  a  dark  wood  in  a  low  and 
wet  situation.  The  weather  being  moderate,  I  continued 
to  travel  until  very  late  in  the  evening.  About  12  o'clock 
at  night  my  dogs  contended  with  a  herd  of  wolves  and  were 
both  slain.  The  winter,  until  within  a  few  days,  having  been 
very  severe,  the  wolves,  probably,  were  very  hungry  and 
ferocious.  It  is-  said,  that  in  this  part  of  the  country  they 
are  very  numerous  and  bold.  From  the  manner  in  which 
the  contest  commenced,  I  am  inclined  to  believe,  that  the 
wolves  having  issued  from  their  dens,  had  come  to  feast 
themselves.  Previous  to  the  rencounter,  all  was  perfect 
silence.  My  dogs  were  near  me,  and  without  the  least 
noise,  which  I  could  perceive,  the  war  commenced.  It 
was  sudden  and  furious. 

I  had,  for  hours,  been  experiencing  a  most  excruciating 
tooth-ache  ;  and  my  sense  of  hearing  was  considerably  af- 
fected by  it.  But  when  the  contest  began,  I,  for  a  moment, 
forgot  my  infirmities,  seized  my  gun,  encouraged  my  dogs, 
and  marched  forth  in  the  most  lively  expectation  of  achiev- 
ing some  great  victory.  It  being,  however,  very  dark,  the 
bushes  thick,  and  the  voice  of  the  battle  beginning  to 
die  upon  my  ear,  a  sense  of  my  sufferings  returned,  and  I 
sought  repose  in  my  tent.  But  I  found  no  repose  there: 
the  whole  night  was  employed  in  endeavouring  to  assuage 
with  gun  powder  and  salt,  the  only  applications  in  my 
power,  an  almost  insufierable  tooth-ache. 

My  dogs  never  returned  from  the  strife.  I  had  lost  the 
faithful,  and  disinterested  partners  of  my  toil.  I  could  not 
leave  so  interesting  a  place.  For  two  nights  and  one  day  I 
remained  upon  the  spot; — but  for  what  I  do  not  know.  In 
the  listlessness  of  sorrow  I  fired  my  rifle  into  the  air.  At 
length  I  realized,  that  my  dogs  had  fallen  nobly  ;  and  the 
sentiments  of  grief  found  a  solace  in  the  dictates  of  pride. 

As  the  fate  of  my  dogs  is  interesting  I  may  be  permitted 
to  spend  a  moment  in  their  praise. 

They  were  not,  like  the  hounds  of  Sparta,  dewlaped  and 


flew;  but  they  possessed  the  acuteness  of  these,  with  the 
courage  of  the  mastifi".  They  were  very  large,  and  accus- 
tomed to  the  strife  of  the  woods.  Tiger  was  grave  and  in- 
trepid. Small  game  excited  in  him  no  interest;  but  when 
the  breath  of  the  foe  greeted  him  in  the  breeze,  he  survey- 
ed, at  a  glance,  and  with  a  lofty  aspect  the  surrounding 
wood.  Slow,  steady,  and  firm  in  pursuit,  he  remained  si- 
lent until  the  object  of  his  search  was  found;  and  then,  a 
cry  more  terrible  than  his 

"Was  never  hallooed  lo, 

Nor  check'd  with  horn  in  Crete  or  Thessaly." 

He  had  lost  an  eye  in  the  battles  of  mountains,  and  was,  in 
every  sense  of  the  word,  a  veteran. 

Pomp  was  active,  generous,  affectionate,  and  in  courage 
and  perseverance  unrivalled.  In  the  night,  it  was  his  cus- 
tom to  pillow  his  head  upon  his  master's  breast;  and  he 
ever  seemed  concerned  to  guard  him  from  the  dangers  of 
an  unsheltered  repose. 

Perhaps  too  I  may  here  notice  some  traits  in  the  charac- 
ter of  the  wolf.  The  countenance  of  this  animal  evinces 
both  cunning  and  ferocity.  The  length  of  his  body  is  ge- 
nerally about  four  feet,  the  legs  from  fifteen  to  eighteen 
inches,  the  circumference  of  the  body  from  two  and  a  half 
to  three  feet,  and  the  tail  sixteen  inches  in  length.  The 
colour  of  the  wolf  is  a  mixture  of  light  and  brown  with 
streaks  of  grey.  His  hair  is  long,  rough,  and  very  coarse; 
his  tail  is  bushy,  something  like  that  of  the  fox,  his  body  is 
generally  gaunt,  his  limbs  are  muscular,  and  his  strength 
very  great;  with  perfect  ease  he  can  carry  a  sheep  in  his 
mouth. 

The  cunning  and  agility  of  this  animal  are  equal  to  his 
strength;  and  his  appetite  for  animal  food  is  exceedingly 
voracious; — so  much  so,  that  he  often  dies  in  pining  for  it. 
When  his  hunger  is  very  imperious,  even  man  becomes 
the  object  of  his  ferocity.  His  sense  of  smelling  is  so  acute, 
that  at  the  distance  of  three  leagues,  a  carcass  will  attract 
his  attention.  The  wolf  is  a  very  solitary  animal;  and  ne- 
ver associates  with  his  species  but  for  the  purpose  of  at- 
tacking a  human  being,  or  some  animal  of  which  he  is  in- 
dividually afraid;  and  when  the  object  of  the  combination 
is  effected,  each  retires  sullenly  to  his  den. 

It  appears  by  the  early  stages  of  English  history,  that 
wolves  in  England  have  been  so  formidable  as  to  attract 
the  particular  attention  of  the  king;  and  even  as  late  as  Ed- 
ward the  first,  a  superintendant  was  appointed  for  the  ex- 
tirpation of  this  dangerous  and  destructive  animal. 

I  may  add  that  not  long  after  the  loss  of  my  dogs  I 
reached,  just  before  night,  a  solitary  log  hut;  and  in  about 
an  hour  after  a  wolf  howled  at  the  door. 

Evans'  Tour. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


GAME  IN  OLDEN  TIMES. 

Mr.  Coke,  the  7th  of  October,  1797,  upon  his  manor  at 
Warham,  and  within  a  mile's  circumference,  bagged  forty 
brace  of  partridges  in  eight  hours,  at  ninety  three  shots  ; 
every  bird  was  killed  singly.  The  day  before,  on  the  same 
spot,  he  killed  twenty-two  brace  and  a  half,  in  three  hours. 
In  1801,  this  gentleman  killed,  in  five  days,  seven  hundred 
and  twenty-six  partridges. 

In  January,  1803,  Mr.  Coke,  Sir  John  Shelly,  and  Mr. 
T.  Sheridan,  went  over  to  Houghton,  in  Norfolk,  on  a 
Chasse  for  their  friend  lord  Cholmondeley,  and  killed  there, 
only  with  their  three  guns,  in  one  day,  fourteen  brace  and 
a  half  of  hares,  sixteen  couple  of  rabbits,  twentj^-four  brace 
of  pheasants,  thirteen  brace  of  partridges,  and  sixteen  couple 
of  woodcocks.  However  great  and  surprising  this  shooting 
may  appear,  it  is  nothing  to  what  has  been  done  in  Germa- 
ny, and  Bohemia,  of  which  I  shall  only  give  one  instance, 
copied  from  Mons.  Dutens,  Itneraire,  Edit.  1793,  p.  153: 
"  Game  is  in  such  abundance  in  the  kingdom  of  Bohemia, 
that  in  the  year  1753,  the  Emperor,  Francis  I.  made  a 
partie  de  chasse,  of  twenty-three  sportsmen,  to  go  with 
him  on  a  shooting  excursion,  to  one  of  the  estates  of  Prince 
Colleredo:  in  the  space  of  eighteen  days,  the  imperial  sports- 
men fired  116,209  shots,  and  killed  19,545  partridges; 
18,243  hares;  9,499  pheasants;  with  other  inferior  game, 
amounting  to  47,950.  I  had  the  anecdote  from  the  Prince 
Colleredo  himself." 

These  exploits  in  shooting,  seemed  admirably  calculated, 
not  only  to  deafen  the  operator,  but  to  severely  beat  his 
shoulder,  almost  to  pieces;  when  we  consider  that  every 
fowling-piece  requires  to  be  washed,  at  every  twenty  dis- 
charges at  least,  and  the  operation  is  performed,  we  are  lost 
in  amazement  at  such  an  extraordinary  occurrence. 

Thornhill. 


ANECDOTE  OF  YOUNG  FOX  CUBS. 

About  two  months  ago  two  very  young  fox  cubs  were 
accidentally  caught  at  the  Bar  hill,  and  conveyed  to  the 
game  keeper,  Myers'  romantic  residence  in  the  Deer  Park, 
Cally.  A  day  or  two  afterwards  the  Stewartry  huntsman, 
whose  sole  business  is  to  destroy  vermin,  not  to  observe 
the  laws  of  the  chase,  while  beating  the  cover  near  Disdow, 
started  an  old  she  fox,  which  was  speedily  shot  by  our  friend 
Mr.  Myers. 

As  it  was  obvious  the  animal  had  been  giving  milk,  search 
was  made,  and  two  more  cubs  found,  one  of  which  was  so 
tiny  that  it  shortly  after  died.  But  its  twin  brother,  or 
sister,  survived,  and  was  placed  on  a  good  bed  of  straw  at 


the  bottom  of  a  half-hogshead,  along  with  the  two  juvenile 
Reynards  already  mentioned;  and  there  the  trio,  by  dint  of 
good  nursing,  and  with  such  recreation  as  they  furtively 
secured,  have  lived  very  comfortably  ever  since.  About 
the  time  alluded  to,  Mr.  Myers  had  a  small  black  bitch, 
whose  pups  had  been  drowned,  and,  as  he  was  anxious  to 
preserve  the  young  foxes,  he  determined  to  try  whether  the 
animal  would  suckle  the  nurslings  of  her  natural  enemy — 
an  experiment  which  succeeded  to  admiration.  The  mo- 
ment "  Pepper"  or  "Mustard,"  we  forget  which,  was  in- 
troduced to  the  importation  from  the  hill-side,  she  com- 
menced licking  them  all  over,  and,  in  the  course  of  a  few 
hours,  displayed  more  fierceness  in  guarding  them  from  real 
or  supposed  harm  than  ever  she  did  in  defence  of  her  own 
offspring.  Under  such  kind  nursing  they  throve  so  well 
tliat  they  are  already  as  big  as  their  foster  parent;  but  of 
late,  we  believe,  they  have  been  fed  with  rabbits,  and  their 
nurse,  for  the  sake  of  her  own  health,  kept  apart  from  them 
during  the  day.  The  half-hogsheads  are  furnished  with  a  lid, 
on  which  is  placed  a  stone  to  keep  it  down;  but,  in  spite  of 
these  precautions,  the  bitch  has  repeatedly  knocked  the  top 
off,  and,  after  dragging  the  cubs  out  of  the  barrel,  led  the 
way  to  the  neighbouring  woods,  that  they  might  enjoy  air, 
exercise,  and  recreation.  When  followed,  she  answers  to 
her  master's  call,  and,  when  coaxed  to  return  home,  emits 
a  peculiar  cry,  hovering  between  a  bark  and  a  howl,  that 
immediately  brings  their  foxships  around  her.  The  said 
cubs,  with  which  so  much  pains  have  been  taken,  are  to  be 
presented  by  and  bye  to  a  friend  of  ours,  an  ardent  lover  of 
the  pleasures  of  the  chase,  and  who  has  long  been  anxious 
to  stock  Annandale  well  with  foxes,  maitgre  the  welfare  of 
the  "woolly  people."  We,  of  course,  quarrel  with  no  man's 
taste,  notwithstanding  of  Andrew  Fairservice's  saw  anent 
"  land  louping  for  days  after  a  bit  beastie  that  will  no  weigh 
six  pund  when  ye  catch't;"  but  this  we  may  predict  very 
safely,  that  the  foxes,  when  they  are  old  enough,  will  evince 
their  gratitude  by  helping  themselves  to  a  tithe  of  his  lambs 
on  the  hill,  and  more  than  a  tithe  of  his  good  lady's  poultry. 
Dumfries  Courier. 


PIGEON  MATCH. 


A  SHOOTING  match  at  Pigeons  was  decided  on  the  15th 
of  July,  at  Germantown,  between  Doctor  S.  and  Mr.  L.  for 
fifty  dollars  a  side,  at  ten  birds  each,  and  was  won  by  the 
former  gentleman,  he  having  killed  his  ten  birds — and  the 
latter  nine,  missing  the  first  bird. 

Another  match  occurred  on  the  same  day  and  place, 
with  several  on  a  side,  but  we  have  not  been  able  to  procure 
a  statement  of  the  shooting. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


193 


AMERICAN  ARGALI. 

•*-  OVIS  MONTANA. 

[Plate  XVII.   Male  and  Female.] 

White  Buffalo. — Mackenzie,  Voyages.  Mountain  Ram. 
M'GiLLivRAY. — New  York  Med.  Repos.  vol.  vi.  Bis; 
Horn. — Lewis  and  Clark.  Ovis  Montana. — Desjia- 
KEST,  Mamm.  Cuvier,  Reg.  an.  Richardson,  Faun.  am. 
bor.  Ovis  Animon. — Godman.  Harlan.  Ovis  Am- 
mon  var  Pygargus. — Griffith,  An.  King.  Rocky 
Mountain  Sheep. — Warden.  Unit.  St. — Philadelphia 
Museum. 

No  part  of  natural  science  is  environed  with  greater  diffi- 
culties, or  presents  more  obstacles  to  the  inquirer,  than  the 
history  of  those  animals  which  have  been  the  companions 
and  slaves  of  man  from  the  earliest  ages;  this  is  strongly 
exemplified  in  the  Sheep,  whose  almost  innumerable  varie- 
ties are  to  be  met  with  in  every  civilized  portion  of  the 
globe.  In  the  investigation  of  this  subject  many  questions 
of  importance  arise,  which  have  no  inconsiderable  bearing 
on  the  issue,  though  from  the  present  state  of  our  know- 
ledge, it  is  impossible  to  solve  them  in  a  satisfactory  or 
undeniable  manner.  Some  of  these  have  been  thus  noticed 
in  a  late  work.*  "The  first  relates  to  the  propriety  of  the 
generic  distinction  between  the  Sheep  and  Goats,  which 
naturalists  have  borrowed  from  the  vulgar  classification, 
adopting  it  in  many  instances  contrary  to  their  own  better 
judgment.  The  second  has  reference  to  the  specific  differ- 
ences supposed  to  exist  between  the  three  or  four  distinct 
races  that  have  been  found  in  a  state  of  nature,  and  to  the 
claims  which  they  severally  possess  to  be  regarded  as  the 
originals  of  the  domesticated  breeds." 

It  is  true  that  a  comparison  of  the  domestic  varieties  of 
these  animals,  exhibits  many  striking  differences  tending  to 
confirm  the  generic  distinctions  which  have  been  established 
by  naturalists;  but  when  this  investigation  is  extended  to 
those  species  which  are  still  found  in  a  wild  and  unreclaimed 
state,  it  becomes  almost  impossible  to  determine  to  which 
genus  many  of  the  animals  belong.  There  is  so  great  a 
similitude  existing  between  their  habits  and  mode  of  life, 
as  well  as  in  their  external  form  and  anatomical  structure, 
that  it  appears  wholly  superfluous  to  class  them  under  dif- 
ferent heads.  Thus,  their  horns  are  constituted  of  the  same 
hollow,  angular  sheaths,  supported  b}"^  bony  prominences, 
having  cavities  communicating  with  the  frontal  sinuses,  the 
form,  number,  and  character  of  their  teeth  are  identical, 
they  both  have  the  same  narrow  and  elongated  muzzle, 
without  the  naked  space  surrounding  the  nostrils,  so  well 
marked  in  many  of  the  ruminantia,  and  lastly  both  genera 
*  The  Gardens  and  Menagerie  of  ihe  Zoological  Society  delineated,  No.  IX. 

3  C 


are  destitute  of  the  lachrymal  openings  and  brushes  on  the 
knees,  so  generally  to  be  met  with  among  the  antelopes  and 
deer.  In  fact,  the  only  real  generic  difierence  between,  as 
given  by  Baron  Cuvier,  consists  in  the  direction  of  the 
horns — these  appendages,  in  the  Sheep,  being  "  directed 
backwards  and  returning  more  or  less  forward,  in  a  spiral 
manner,"  whilst  in  the  Goats,  the  horns  "are  directed 
upwards  and  backwards;"  as  regards  the  absence  of  the 
beard  in  the  Sheep,  it  cannot  be  assumed  as  a  characteristic 
mark,  as  this  is  also  the  case  in  some  species  which  are 
classed  among  the  Goats.  The  learned  naturalist  just  quoted 
also  adds,  they  (the  Sheep)  little  deserve  to  be  generically 
separated  from  the  Goats,  as  they  produce  prolific  hybrids 
with  them. 

But  a  still  more  debateable  question  arises  as  respects  the 
different  races  of  the  Sheep  which  are  yet  found  in  a  wild 
state.  On  the  one  hand,  it  would  be  an  extraordinary 
anomaly  in  the  laws  which  regulate  the  geographical  distri- 
bution of  animals,  if,  as  was  formerlj'  supposed,  the  wild 
Sheep  found  in  the  mountains  of  Africa,  the  great  chain 
extending  through  central  Asia,  and  the  elevated  regions  of 
various  parts  of  the  American  continent,  be  admitted  as 
belonging  to  the  same  species,  whilst  on  the  other,  when 
we  advert  to  the  slight  shades  of  difference  existing  between 
them,  and  their  close  resemblance  in  every  important  par- 
ticular, strong  doubts  may  be  reasonably  entertained,  of  the 
propriety  of  separating  them  from  each  other. 

Before,  however,  entering  on  the  history  of  the  subject 
of  our  present  illustration,  we  shall  pursue  the  plan  we 
have  adopted  in  this  work,  and  make  a  few  observations 
on  tiie  genus  Ovis. 

To  none  of  the  domestic  animals  is  mankind  more  indebt- 
ed for  the  comforts  and  luxuries  of  civilized  life  than  to  this 
quadruped;  others  may  excel  it  in  strength,  speed,  and  dig- 
nity of  character,  but  were  we  to  be  deprived  of  the  ser- 
vices of  any  of  our  attendants  among  the  inferior  animals, 
we  would  in  all  probability  find  that  those  of  the  Sheep 
would  be  as  severely  felt  as  any  of  the  others.  The  inoffen- 
sive and  mild  character  of  these  animals,  when  under  the 
control  of  man,  is  so  well  known  as  to  have  descended  into 
a  proverb.  But  when  ranging  in  flocks  over  the  extensive 
tracts  devoted  to  them  in  many  countries,  and  where  they 
seldom  depend  on  the  aid  of  the  shepherd,  they  display  very 
different  characteristics.  Here,  being  obliged  to  depend  on 
their  own  resources,  when  threatened  with  an  attack,  they 
show  a  courage  and  resolution  which  is  generally  supposed 
to  be  foreign  to  their  nature.  Thus,  a  ram  will  boldly  meet 
and  drive  off  a  dog  or  fox,  and  where  the  danger  is  more 
alarming,  the  whole  flock  unites  for  common  defence,  draw- 
ing up  in  a  circle,  placing  the  young  and  females  in  the 
centre,  whilst  the  old  males  present  an  armed  front  to  the 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  fflSTORY 


assailant  that  is  not  to  be  easily  vanquished.  In  the  moun- 
tainous parts  of  Wales,  it  is  stated  by  Bingley,*  "  they  do 
not  always  collect  in  large  flocks,  but  graze  in  parties  of 
from  eight  to  a  dozen,  of  which  one  is  stationed  at  a  distance 
from  the  rest,  to  give  notice  of  the  approach  of  danger. 
When  the  sentinel  observes  any  one  advancing,  at  the  dis- 
tance of  two  or  three  hundred  yards,  he  turns  his  face  to 
the  enemj',  keeping  a  watchful  eye  upon  his  motions,  allow- 
ing him  to  approach  as  near  as  eighty  or  a  hundred  yards  ; 
but  when  the  suspected  foe  manifests  a  design  of  coming 
nearer,  the  watchful  guard  alarms  his  comrades  by  a  loud 
hiss  or  whistle,  twice  or  thrice  repeated,  when  the  whole 
party  instantly  scour  away  with  great  agility,  always  seek- 
ing the  steepest  and  most  inaccessible  parts  of  the  moun- 
tains." 

The  ewe  usually  produces  only  one  lamb  at  a  time,  though 
in  a  flock,  it  often  happens  that  there  are  several  instances 
where  they  have  two,  and  in  some  rare  cases  even  three 
at  a  birth.  It  is  a  remarkable  peculiarity  of  this  species  of 
animals,  that  they  drink  but  rarely  and  sparingly,  their 
thirst  being,  in  all  probability,  slaked  by  the  juices  of  the 
vegetables  on  which  they  feed,  and  the  dew  or  rain  by 
which  (he  herbage  is  moistened. 

Sheep,  like  other  domestic  animals,  appear  to  become 
subject  to  many  diseases,  which,  if  not  totally  wanting,  are 
at  least  very  rare  among  them  in  the  wild  state.  Water 
often  accumulates  in  their  head;  this  disease,  which  is  termed 
the  dunt,  is  almost  invariably  fatal ;  they  are  also  affected 
with  an  extraordinary  species  of  mortification,  called  foot- 
rot,  this  will  spread  through  a  whole  flock,  and  produce 
great  devastation ;  they  are  likewise  liable  to  a  variety  of 
other  complaints,  the  most  common  of  which  is  the  rot. 
This  is  known  by  the  dullness  of  the  animal's  eyes  ;  livid 
hue  of  the  gums;  the  sorder  on  the  teeth;  the  fetor  of  the 
breath,  and  by  the  ease  with  which  the  wool,  and  in  the 
latter  stage  of  it,  even  the  horns  may  be  detached.  The 
origin  of  this  disease  is  not  clearly  understood,  the  prevail- 
ing opinion,  however,  is  that  it  is  owing  to  feeding  Sheep 
on  wet  or  moist  grounds.  Sheep  are  very  obnoxious  to  the 
attacks  of  certain  insects;  thus,  one  of  the  species  of  gad  fly 
is  very  troublesome,  and  even  dangerous,  by  depositing  its 
eggs  in  the  nose,  the  larva  from  which  breed  in  immense 
numbers  in  that  cavity,  and  in  the  frontal  sinuses  ;  they  are 
also  subject  to  these  larva  in  the  skin,  as  well  as  to  ticks  and 
lice.  The  ordinary  life  of  the  Sheep,  is  from  twelve  to 
thirteen  years. 

The  benefits  which  this  amimal  bestows  on  mankind  are 
exceedingly  numerous.  Its  horns,  its  flesh,  its  tallow,  and 
even  its  bowels,  all  furnish  articles  of  great  utility.      The 

*  Animal  iliograpliy. 


horns  are  manufactured  into  various  articles,  as  spoons,  but- 
tons, cups,  &c.  The  flesh  is  too  well  known,  as  one  of  our 
most  valuable  meats,  to  require  notice.  The  manufacture 
of  its  wool  into  cloths  has  long  formed  the  principal  source 
of  wealth  to  England,  and,  in  all  probability,  will  become 
equally  so  in  this  country.  The  skin,  is  prepared  into 
leather,  for  inferior  kinds  of  shoes,  for  the  coverings  of 
books,  for  gloves,  and  into  parchment.  The  entrails,  by  a 
proper  preparation,  form  those  strings  for  musical  instru- 
ments known  under  the  name  of  catgut.  The  bones  are 
employed  for  a  variety  of  purposes  in  the  arts.  The  milk 
has  more  consistence  than  that  of  the  cow,  but  is  embued 
with  a  rank  taste;  the  cheese  made  from  it,  though  rich,  is 
necessarily  strong. 

The  domestic  varieties  of  the  Sheep  are  exceedingly 
numerous;  besides  the  minor  distinctions  which  have  origi- 
nated from  breeding,  there  are  some  peculiar  to  different 
countries  that  deserve  notice.  The  Spanish,  or  merino, 
which  are  remarkable  for  the  fineness  of  their  wool,  and 
the  form  of  their  horns,  are  supposed,  by  some  authors,  to 
have  originally  been  introduced  into  Spain  from  England. 
The  African  presents  a  curious  instance  of  the  effects  of  a 
tropical  climate.  The  form  of  this  variety  is  meagre,  their 
legs  are  long,  their  ears  pendant,  and  the  covering  of  the 
body  has  so  much  of  the  drj'ness  and  crispness  of  hair,  that 
it  can  scarcely  be  considered  as  wool. 

The  Wallachian  is  remarkable  for  large  spiral  horns;  this 
variety  has  spread  through  the  different  islands  of  the  Medi- 
terranean Archipelago,  and  is  also  frequent  in  Austria  and 
Hungary.  The  northern  regions  of  Europe  afford  a  variety, 
distinguished  by  having  their  heads  furnished  with  three, 
four,  and  more  horns.  But  the  most  striking  discrepancy 
is  found  in  a  race  inhabiting  the  Barbary  coast  and  some 
parts  of  Asia;  these  animals  resemble  the  common  Sheep, 
except  in  the  unnatural  dimensions  of  the  tail.  This  is 
of  a  square  or  round  form,  like  a  cushion,  and  attains  the 
weight  of  thirty  pounds,  rendering  it,  it  is  said,  so  great  an 
incumbrance  to  the  animal,  that  it  is  often  found  necessary 
to  support  it  by  a  kind  of  small  cart. 

The  Sheep  of  Bucharia  are  also  considered  by  Linnaeus, 
as  a  marked  variety.  It  is  from  these  animals  that  the  Per- 
sians derive  one  of  their  celebrated  articles  of  luxury.  The 
lamb  skins  of  Bucharia,  which  form  part  of  the  dress  of 
every  one  that  can  afford  it,  in  Persia,  are  chiefly  procured 
from  lambs,  taken  from  ewes  killed  during  the  period  of 
gestation.  They  have  a  glossy  and  fur  like  texture,  and  are 
usually  of  a  gray  or  black  colour. 

The  last  variety  we  shall  notice,  is  the  Tartarian;  this  is 
distinguished  by  having  no  tail,  and  from  the  immense  size 
of  its  rump,  which  appears  like  a  large  tumour,  and  weighs 
as  high  as  forty  pounds.     The  Sheep  themselves  are  also  of 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


a  proportionate  magnitude,  their  voice  resembles  rather  the 
lowing  of  a  calf  than  the  bleating  of  a  Sheep.  They  are 
remarkably  prolific,  usually  producing  two,  and  not  unfre- 
quently  three  at  a  birth.  The  varieties  usually  raised  in  the 
United  States,  are  the  various  English  kinds  and  the  merino, 
with  the  various  crossed  breeds  between. 

As  we  have  already  observed,  the  wild  races  approximate 
so  very  closely  to  each  other,  as  to  render  it  doubtful  whe- 
ther they  may  not  be  identical,  and  the  slight  differences 
between  them  be  merely  owing  to  change  of  locality.  They 
were  all  included,  by  Linnaeus,  under  the  specific  name  of 
ammon,  in  which  he  has  been  followed  by  many  recent 
naturalists.  To  bring  the  whole  matter  before  our  readers,  we 
will,  therefore,  give  a  short  sketch  of  each  of  tlie  species,  as 
admitted  by  Baron  Cuvier,  in  his  last  edition  of  the  Regne 
Animal,  before  speaking  of  that  inhabiting  this  country. 
The  Siberian  Argali,  (O.  ammon,)  which  is  found  in  a  great 
part  of  northern  Asia,  is  distinguished  by  horns  situate  on 
the  summit  of  the  head,  which  at  first  rise  upright,  then 
bend  backward.s,  and  finally  twist  outwards  and  upwards, 
these  horns  are  triangular  at  their  base,  rounded  at  the 
angles,  flat  on  the  interior  side,  and  deeply  striated  trans- 
versely. The  head  resembles  that  of  the  common  ram, 
with,  however,  smaller  ears;  it  is  nearly  the  size  of  a  small 
stag ;  the  fore  legs  are  shorter  than  the  hinder ;  the  tail  is 
very  short  and  white  tipped  with  yellowish.  The  hair  of 
the  body  is  very  short  in  summer,  and  of  a  yellowish  colour, 
mixed  with  gray.  In  winter  it  acquires  a  greater  length, 
and  becomes  of  a  fenuginous  gray,  with  white  at  the  muz- 
zle, throat,  and  under  the  belly.  At  all  times  it  has  a  lighter 
spot  of  colour  around  the  root  of  the  tail.  The  favourite 
resorts  of  this  species  are  the  mountainous  districts  of  Sibe- 
ria, Kamschatka,  &c.  They  are  gregarious,  though  the 
flocks  are  small.  They  form  the  principal  food  of  the  inha- 
bitants of  those  dreary  countries.  They  are  shot  with  fire- 
arms, or  with  bows,  sometimes  with  cross-bows,  placed  in 
their  paths,  and  discharged  by  their  treading  on  a  string 
communicating  with  the  trigger.  Thej-  are  so  swift,  that, 
when  chased  by  dogs,  they  leave  their  pursuers  far  in  the 
rear,  though  from  these  animals  driving  them  to  situations 
in  which  they  are  exposed  to  the  aim  of  the  hunter,  it  is  a 
favourite  mode  of  chasing  them. 

The  Corsican  or  Sardinian  Argali,  (0.  initrimon,)  is  the 
species  spoken  of  by  Pliny,  under  the  name  of  murmon. 
They  are  termed  Mufri  by  the  Corsicans,  and  inhabit  the 
highest  parts  of  the  island.  They  can  only  be  shot  or  cap- 
tured by  stratagem.  They  feed  on  the  roost  acrid  plants ; 
their  flesh,  though  lean,  is  highly  esteemed ;  the  skin  is 
thick,  and  is  employed  as  a  hunting  shirt,  to  defend  the  body 
against  the  thorns  and  briars  in  passing  through  thickets. 
From  the  accounts  of  some  early  British  writers,  it  would 


prevails  on  the  anterior  aspect  of  the  legs.  The  tail  is  dark 
appear  as  if  this  species  had  once  inhabited  Scotland.  Hec- 
tor Boetius  speaks  of  a  Sheep  in  St.  Kilda,  the  descrip- 
tion of  which  agrees  with  this  animal,  added  to  which  a 
figure  of  one  was  discovered  in  a  piece  of  sculpture  taken 
from  the  wall  of  Antoninus,  near  Glasgow.  The  Corsican 
Argali  only  differs  from  the  Siberian,  in  not  being  as  large, 
in  the  female  rarely  having  horns,  and  those  very  small. 

The  American  species  is  very  closely  allied  to  the  Sibe- 
rian, if  not  identical  with  it,  the  only  difference  being,  that 
it  is  a  larger  animal,  and  that  its  horns  form  a  more  spiral 
curve.  Unfortunately  we  are  but  little  acquainted  with  the 
habits  and  peculiarities  of  this  animal ;  the  following  account 
if  it  is  principally  derived  from  Dr.  Richardson,  whose 
excellent  work  on  the  quadrupeds  of  the  northern  parts  of 
America,  we  have  so  frequently  drawn  upon  for  informa- 
tion. 

"  Size  much  greater  than  the  largest  sized  varieties  of 
the  domestic  Sheep.      It  is  bigger  than  the  Argali." 

The  horns  of  the  male  are  very  large,  arise  a  short  way 
above  the  eyes,  and  occupy  almost  the  whole  space  between 
the  ears,  but  do  not  touch  each  other  at  their  bases.  They 
curve  first  backwards,  then  downwards,  forwards,  and 
upwards,  until  they  form  a  complete  turn,  during  the  whole 
course  of  which,  they  recede  from  the  side  of  the  head  in 
a  spiral  manner.  They  diminish  in  size  rapidly  towards 
their  points,  which  are  turned  upwards.  At  their  bases, 
and  for  a  considerable  portion  of  their  length,  they  are  three 
sided,  the  anterior  or  upper  side  being,  as  it  were,  thick- 
ened, and  projecting  obtusely  at  its  union  with  the  two 
others.  This  side  is  marked  by  transverse  furrows,  which 
are  less  deep  the  further  they  are  from  the  skull ;  and 
towards  the  tips  the  horns  are  rounded,  and  but  obscurely 
wrinkled.  The  furrows  extend  to  the  other  two  sides  of 
the  horn,  but  are  there  less  distinct.  The  intervals  of  the 
furrows  swell  out,  or  are  rounded. 

The  horns  of  the  female  are  much  smaller,  and  nearly 
erect,  having  but  a  slight  curvature,  and  an  inclination  back- 
wards and  outwards. 

The  ears  are  of  a  moderate  size;  the  facial  angle  straight, 
and  the  general  form  of  the  animal  rather  elegant,  being 
intermediate  betwixt  that  of  the  sheep  and  the  stag.  Tail 
very  short.  The  hair  like  that  of  the  rein  deer,  being,  on 
its  first  growth  in  the  autumn,  short,  fine,  and  flexible;  but 
as  the  winter  approaches,  becoming  much  coarser,  dry,  and 
brittle,  though  at  the  same  time  it  feels  soft  to  the  touch. 
In  the  latter  season  the  hair  is  so  close  at  its  roots,  that  it  is 
necessarily  erect.  The  legs  are  covered  with  shorter  hairs. 

The  head,  buttocks,  and  posterior  part  of  the  belly  white; 
the  rest  of  the  body  and  the  neck  of  a  pale  umber,  or  dusky 
wood  brown,  colour.     A  deeper  and  more  shining  brown 


196 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


brown,  and  a  narrow  brown  line,  extending  from  its  base, 
runs  up  betwixt  the  white  buttocks,  to  unite  with  the  brown 
colour  of  the  back.  The  colours  reside  in  the  ends  of  the 
hair,  and  as  these  are  rubbed  off,  during  the  progress  of  the 
winter,  the  tints  become  paler.  The  old  rams  are  almost 
totally  white  in  the  spring." 

One  of  the  first  accounts  we  have  of  the  Argali  being 
found  in  America,  is  given  bj'  Father  Piccolo,  who  estab- 
lished a  mission  in  California,  in  1697,  about  two  centuries 
after  the  discovery  of  America,  he  says  "  Two  sorts  of  deer 
are  found  here  that  we  know  nothing  of;  we  call  them  sheep, 
because  they  somewhat  resemble  ours  in  make.  The  first 
sort  is  as  large  as  a  calf  one  or  two  years  old  ;  its  head  is 
much  like  that  of  a  stag,  and  its  horns,  which  are  very  large, 
are  like  those  of  a  ram;  its  tail  and  hair  are  speckled,  and 
shorter  than  a  stag's;  but  its  hoof  is  large,  round,  and  cleft 
as  an  ox's.  The  other  sort  of  sheep,  some  of  which  are 
white  and  the  others  black,  differ  less  from  ours.  They  are 
larger,  and  have  good  deal  more  wool,  which  is  ver}^  good, 
and  easy  to  be  spun  and  wrought."  This  description  of 
the  Californian  animal  was  followed  by  those  of  Hernandez, 
Clavighiero,  and  Vanegas,  the  latter  of  whom  gives  a  figure 
which,  though  defective,  is  evidently  meant  for  an  Argali; 
he  states  that  it  is  about  the  bigness  of  a  calf  a  year  and  a 
half  old,  which  it  greatly  resembles  in  figure,  except  in  its 
head,  which  is  like  that  of  a  deer;  this  author  agrees  with 
Piccolo,  in  saying  that  its  skin  is  spotted.  From  this  it 
would  appear,  that  the  Californian  animal,  though  an  Argali, 
is  different  from  the  species  under  consideration,  which  is 
never  so,  according  to  the  recent  authors  who  have  spoken 
of  it;  in  fact  Mr.  Douglass  has  described  it  under  the  name 
of  O.  californica. 

Although  many  skins  were  sent  to  Europe  by  the  fur  tra- 
ders, and  the  existence  of  a  quadruped  of  the  sheep  kind 
among  the  high  lands  of  western  America  was  not  denied ;  the 
first  clear  history  of  it,  is  owing  to  Mr.  D.  M'Gillivray;  this 
will  be  found  in  the  6th  vol.  of  the  New  York  Medical 
Repository,  with  an  indifferent  wood  cut.  This  gentleman 
also  sent  a  specimen  to  New  Y'ork,  where  it  remained  for 
some  time,  in  the  Museum  of  Mr.  Savage,  and  was  after- 
wards, it  is  stated  by  Dr.  Richardson,  transmitted  to  France, 
and  a  description  and  figure  of  it  inserted  in  the  »/lnnales  du 
Museum,  by  M.  Geoffroy. 

Some  time  after  this,  Lewis  and  Clark  procured  speci- 
mens of  both  male  and  female,  which  are  now  in  the  Phi- 
ladelphia Museum.  From  these  our  present  illustration  is 
partly  taken,  though  from  the  decayed  and  discoloured  state 
of  them,  we  have  also  availed  ourselves  of  Landseer's 
sketch,  (from  individuals  in  the  Museum  of  the  Zoological 
Society  of  I^ondon,)  contained  in  Richardson's  fauna.  It 
may  be  well  to  mention,  that  the  figures  in  GriflSth's  Ani- 


mal Kingdom,  and  Godman's  Natural  History,  were  also 
drawn  from  Lewis  and  Clark's  specimens.  The  last  account 
we  have  of  this  interesting  animal,  is  furnished,  as  before- 
mentioned,  by  Dr.  Richardson. 

The  American  Argali  inhabits  the  mountainous  regions 
of  country  situated  in  the  western  part  of  North  America, 
not  occurring  further  eastward  than  the  delivity  of  the 
Rocky  mountains.  They  generally  frequent  the  highest 
parts  of  this  chain  which  produce  any  vegetation,  but  some- 
times descend  to  feed  in  the  valleys,  tiiough  on  the  least 
alarm,  they  fly  for  shelter  to  their  native  precipices,  where 
the  hunter  finds  it  difficult  to  follow  them.  Mr.  Drum- 
mond  informed  Dr.  Richardson,  that  in  the  retired  parts  of 
the  mountains,  where  they  had  seldom  been  alarmed  by 
hunters,  that  he  found  but  little  difliculty  in  approaching 
them ;  though  in  spots  where  they  had  been  often  fired  at, 
that  they  were  extremely  shy,  alarming  their  companions 
with  a  hissing  noise,  like  the  Chamois. 

They  assemble  in  flocks  consisting  of  various  numbers, 
though  seldom  exceeding  thirty,  the  young  rams  and  the 
females  hording  together  in  the  winter  and  spring.  The 
female  brings  forth  in  June  or  July,  when  she  retires  with 
her  young  to  the  most  inaccessible  situations. 

Mr.  M'Gillivray  says,  the  appearance  of  this  animal, 
though  rather  clumsy,  is  expressive  of  great  activity  and 
strength,  and  his  agility  in  traversing  the  rugged  and  almost 
impassable  spots  he  inhabits  is  truly  surprising,  bounding 
from  rock  to  rock,  like  the  Ibex.  ''Frequently,"  he  con- 
tinues, "I  have  been  entertained  with  a  view  of  one  of 
them,  looking  over  the  brink  of  a  precipice  several  hundred 
yards  above  my  head,  scarcely  appearing  bigger  than  a 
crow,  and  bidding  defiance  to  all  approach.  These  fright- 
ful situations  are  quite  natural  to  them.  They  run  up 
declivities  of  hard  snow  or  rough  ice  with  facility.  Pursu- 
ing them  in  these  situations,  I  have  been  obliged  to  cut 
steps  with  my  knife,  where  they  passed  without  difliculty. 
Sometimes  you  think  their  progress  is  stopped  by  a  chasm 
or  projecting  rock;  but  if  you  attempt  too  near  an  approach, 
at  one  bound  they  are  out  of  your  reach." 

Their  favourite  places  of  resort  are  the  grassy  knolls, 
situated  amidst  craggy  rocks,  which  serve  them  as  retreats 
when  pursued  by  an  enemy.  Mr.  Drummond  also  states, 
that  they  are  accustomed  to  pay  daily  visits  to  certain  caves  in 
the  mountains,  which  afford  a  saline  efflorescence,  of  which, 
like  most  other  ruminating  animals,  they  are  very  fond. 

All  those  who  have  eaten  of  the  flesh  of  these  animals, 
particularly  of  the  female  and  young  male,  agree  that  it  is 
extremely  delicate,  and  preferable  to  the  finest  venison; 
even  the  Indians,  who  live  entirely  on  animal  food,  may 
be  supposed  epicures  in  the  choice  of  flesh,  agree  that  the 
flesh  of  the  Argali  is  the  sweetest  feast  in  the  forest. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


No. 


No.  2. 


Noles  of  a  Naturalist.    By  Jacob  Green,  M.  D. 
INDIAN   ANTIQUITIES. 

In  the  early  part  of  June  (1S31,)  I  passed  a  day  or  two 
at  Wheeling,  in  Virginia.  My  visit  was  rendered  exceed- 
ingly interesting,  by  the  examination  of  some  of  those  curi- 
ous objects  of  antiquity  which  are  among  the  few  wrecks  of 
the  history  of  the  former  inhabitants  of  our  country,  and  are 
certainly  the  work  of  a  people  much  farther  advanced  in  the 
arts,  and  greatly  superior  in  power  and  civilization  to  the 
rude  Indian  tribes  which  now  inhabit  our  western  regions. 
These  vestiges  of  the  arts  and  manners  of  our  aborigines  are 
gradually  disappearing,  and,  at  no  very  distant  period,  the 
American  antiquary  will  have  to  lament,  that  his  predeces- 
sors, in  this  curious  field  of  inquiry,  did  not  rescue  from 
oblivion  more  of  these  remarkable  relics. 

There  appears  to  have  been  no  ancient  fort,  camp,  or 
military  work  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  Wheeling,  but 
on  the  western  bank  of  the  Ohio  river,  on  the  site  of  this 
flourishing  town,  there  was  once  a  village,  a  place  of  public 
worship,  or  perhaps  merely  the  habitation  of  some  distin- 
guished chieftain. 

A  few  years  since,  a  little  to  the  north  of  the  town,  a 
hearth  or  fire  place  was  discovered,  not  many  yards  from 
the  bank  of  the  river,  and  about  four  feet  below  the  surface 
of  the  ground.  The  floor  of  the  hearth  was  composed  of 
large  flat  stones,  and  was  strewed  with  pieces  of  charred 
wood  and  with  ashes.  There  were  no  bricks,*  or  any 
earthen  ware  found  near  the  place.  This  spot,  I  concluded, 
must  either  have  been  an  altar,  where  religious  rites  were 

*  I  saw  part  of  a  brick  found  some  miles  further  down  the  river.  Its  surface 
was  fluted^  some  mould  beins-  impressed  upon  the  clay  before  it  was  burnt. 

3  D 


performed,  or  a  hearth  for  the  ordinary  culinary  operations 
of  a  family. 

Some  distance  to  the  south  of  this  altar  or  hearth,  was  the 
place  of  burial  or  cemetery.  This  was  first  noticed  some 
years  ago,  by  my  friend,  Dr.  J.  W.  Clemens,  an  intelligent 
physician  and  a  zealous  antiquary,  now  residing  in  Wheel- 
ing. He  informed  me,  that  some  workmen,  while  digging 
a  cellar  for  him,  in  one  of  the  principal  streets  of  the  town, 
observed  a  number  of  human  bones,  and  some  fragments  of 
earthen  ware.  On  oflering  them  a  small  premium,  they  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  out  of  the  tumulus,  three  or  four  small 
earthen  vessels,  and  a  number  of  arrow  heads,  stone  axes, 
and  rude  ornaments  of  clay;  enough  of  the  skeleton  was 
also  ascertained,  to  convince  Dr.  Clemens,  that  it  was  buried 
in  a  sitting  attitude.  Two  of  the  earthen  vases,  or  urns,  I 
had  the  pleasure  of  examining.  One  of  them  is  in  the  pos- 
session of  a  gentleman  in  Wheeling,  and  the  other  is  now 
deposited  in  the  Lambdin  Museum,  at  Pittsburg,  Pa.  They 
were  all  nearly  of  the  same  figure  and  capacity,  and  would 
contain  about  one  quart.  Figure  1,  of  the  accompanying 
sketch,  is  an  accurate  drawing  of  the  vase  in  the  Museum. 
It  differs  from  the  others,  in  being  ornamented  on  the  out- 
side near  the  brim,  by  a  line  of  bead-like  protuberances;  the 
others  were  entirely  plain.  The  symmetrical  proportions 
of  these  vessels,  and  the  smooth  surface  they  present,  ren- 
ders it  highly  probable  that  they  were  formed  in  a  lathe, 
in  the  same  manner  as  potters  ware  is  now  modelled.  The 
inside  of  the  urns  appears  to  have  been  blackened  either  by 
smoke,  or  the  articles  which  they  contained.  The  compo- 
sition of  which  these  vessels  are  made,  is  a  mixture  of 
talcose  earth,  clay,  and  pounded  muscle  shells,  the  unios  of 
the  Ohio  river.  They  are  without  glazing,  and  have  not 
been  burned  in  a  kiln,   as  our  common  earthen  ware,  but 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


merely  hardened  by  exposure  to  the  sun  and  air,  for  by 
minutely  examining  these  shells  mixed  with  the  clay,  they 
wercnot  in  the  smallest  degree  calcined ;  in  most  cases  the 
nacre  of  the  shell  is  quite  pearly  and  glittering.  They  are 
capable  of  supporting,  however,  a  high  temperature,  for 
Dr.  Clemens  boiled  water  in  one  of  them. 

There  is  a  delicacy,  perfection,  and  symmetry  in  most  of 
the  earthen  vessels,  found  in  the  ancient  tumuli  of  the  west, 
which  cannot  be  observed  in  any  of  the  other  articles  which 
are  usually  disinterred  along  with  them.  The  stone  axes, 
arrow  heads,  and  other  implements  are  often  of  the  rudest 
construction.  From  this  circumstance  I  think  it  probable, 
that  the  females,  or  the  priests,  or  those  whose  ordinary 
occupations  confined  them  at  home,  were  the  ancient  Ame- 
rican potters,  and  that  the  other  articles  were  fabricated  by 
men  engaged  in  the  bustle  and  business  of  war,  or  in  the 
pursuits  of  the  chase.  In  the  Philadelphia  Museum,  how- 
ever, there  are  some  ver}^  curiously  wrought  instruments  of 
stoni,  and  among  the  rest  a  kind  of  tomahawk,  made  from  a 
beautiful  mass  of  translucent  quartz.  Perhaps  this  instrument 
was  made  and  used  by  the  priests,  to  immolate  their  victims. 

Dr.  Clemens  informed  me,  that  two  of  the  above  vases, 
when  first  discovered,  were  filled  with  the  bones  of  some 
small  quadruped,  and  as  far  as  he  could  identify  the  crumb- 
ling fragments,  tliey  were  those  of  the  rabbit  or  squirrel. 
They  were  deposited  by  the  side  of  the  deceased,  that  he 
might  have,  according  to  a  traditionary  superstitious  notion, 
something  to  eat  at  the  resurrection  or  reanimation  of  his 
body.  This  story,  I  have  no  doubt,  is  the  invention  of  the 
present  race  of  Indians,  who  now  inhabit  our  western  wilds. 
It  has  been  the  usage  of  many  ancient  nations,  an  usage  which 
is,  even  now,  scarcely  obsolete,  to  bury  in  the  same  grave 
some  symbol  of  the  favourite  amusement  or  occupation  of 
the  deceased.  Thus,  with  the  bones  of  the  warrior,  a  battle 
axe  will  often  be  found,  or  perhaps  his  arrows  and  bow. 
Mr.  Atwater,  the  indefatigable  antiquary  of  Ohio,  remarks, 
"that  with  the  hunter  is  often  interred,  that  kind  of  wild 
game  of  which  he  had  been  the  fondest,  or  the  most  success- 
ful in  taking.  Hence,  the  teeth  of  the  otter  are  found  in  the 
grave  of  one,  and  those  of  the  beaver  in  that  of  another." 
One  who  had  been  successful  in  fishing,  is  distinguished  by 
a  number  of  fish  bones  and  muscle  shells.  If  these  opinions 
be  correct,  the  ancient  American,  whose  skeleton  was  found 
at  Wheeling,  must  have  been  a  famous  hunter  of  the  squir- 
rel, or  the  rabbit. 

In  the  transactions  of  the  American  Antiquarian  Society, 
vol.  i.  page  227,  there  is  the  sketch  of  a  vase  very  much 
resembling  the  one  we  have  given  at  figure  1,  but  it  is  more 
globose,  better  proportioned,  and  more  highly  finished ;  it 
was  obtained  in  a  mound,  a  few  miles  from  Chilicothe. 
Dr.   Hildreth,    of  Marietta,   has   also  described  a  vessel, 


<' nearly  in  the  form  of  a  cocoa  nut  shell,"  with  four  neat 
handles  near  the  brim,  opposite  to  each  other;  it  was  found 
in  the  bank  of  an  island,  not  far  from  Belpre.  These  ves- 
sels seemed  to  have  contained  calcined  human  bones,  and 
from  their  dark  appearance,  oil  seems  to  have  been  poured 
into  them  along  with  the  bones.  In  Pennant's  Tour  in  Scot- 
land, vol.  i.  plate  21,  there  is  the  representation  of  a  fine 
urn,  discovered  in  a  cairn  or  mound,  near  the  town  of  Banff. 
This  vase  is  thought  by  ]\Ir.  Atwater,  to  resemble  the  one 
found  near  Chilicothe,  and  which  is  so  much  like  our 
figure  1;  but  the  likeness,  in  my  estimation,  is  exceedingly 
remote.  Yet  though  there  is  little  similarity  in  the  shape  of 
these  vessels,  a  variety  of  circumstances  connected  with 
them,  intimate  a  great  resemblance  between  the  manners 
and  customs  of  the  people,  by  whom  they  were  manufac- 
tured and  used.  That  the  sepulchral  rites  of  the  early  inha- 
bitants of  Scotland,  were  very  analagous  to  those  of  the 
ancient  tribes  of  Americans,  who  lived  near  Wheeling, 
must  strike  every  one  who  reads  Pennant's  account  of  the 
urn  of  Banff.  "  It  was  discovered  in  a  cairn  or  tumulus,  in 
a  coffm  of  flat  stones;  it  was  ornamented,  but  round  it  were 
placed  three  others,  smaller  and  quite  plain,  the  contents  of 
each  were  the  same,  ashes,  burnt  bones,  and  flint  arrow 
heads.  There  was  also  in  the  larger  urn  and  one  of  the 
lesser,  a  small  slender  bone,  four  inches  long,  apparently 
not  human,  but  the  animal  to  which  it  belonged,  and  the 
use  were  unknown.  The  materials  of  the  urn,  consist  of 
a  course  clay,  mixed  with  small  stones  and  sand,  which  have 
evidently  been  only  dried  and  not  burnt;  the  inside  of  the 
larger  urn  was  blackened,  probably  with  the  oil  from  the 
bones."  This  is  the  substance  of  Pennant's  account.  It 
will  be  recollected,  that  at  the  cairn  at  Wheeling,  one  orna- 
mented urn  and  several  plain  ones  were  found,  and  that  in 
several  other  particulars,  that  burial  place  resembles  the  one 
above  described. 

Figure  2  of  our  drawing,  represents  an  earthen  ware  bot- 
tle, found  in  Scott  county,  state  of  Mississippi,  twenty  feet 
below  the  surface.  The  clay  is  much  purer,  and  the  work- 
manship far  superior  to  the  Wheeling  urns.  It  is  of  a  dark 
umber  colour,  and  was  brought  from  the  tumulus  by  my 
friend,  Mr.  S.  of  Pittsburg,  and  given  to  the  Museum.  In 
examining  the  smooth  and  polished  surface  of  this  beautiful 
vessel,  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  resist  the  inference  that  it 
was  moddled  in  a  potter's  lathe.  The  drawing  made  of  it, 
by  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Lambdin,  a  promising  artist  and 
the  liberal  proprietor  of  the  Museum,  w^ill  give  a  correct 
idea  of  its  general  appearance.  It  will  contain  about  a  quart. 
The  clay  and  the  shells  of  which  it  is  composed,  must  have 
been  thoroughly  beaten  and  worked  together  before  it  was 
moulded. 

It  is  difficult  to  conjecture  to  what  use  this  antique  bottle 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


199 


was  applied.  It  was  most  probably  used  in  their  burial 
ceremonies,  or  was  in  some  way  connected  with  their 
superstitious  rites.  I  have  seen  some  ancient  Grecian  lachry- 
matories, not  very  unlike  it  in  figure;  and  perhaps  the  abo- 
rigines of  the  west,  employed  this  vessel  to  gather  the  tears 
in  honour  of  the  dead.  On  the  upper  part  of  the  body  of 
the  vessel,  there  are  four  representations  of  the  head  of 
some  quadruped.  When  I  first  examined  these  rude  speci- 
mens of  sculpture,  I  supposed,  that  the  head  of  the  animal 
intended  by  the  artist,  was  that  of  the  hog.  The  head  of 
the  Sus  tajassu,  or  INIexican  hog,  cut  ofi"  square,  was  found 
a  few  years  ago,  in  a  good  state  of  preservation,  in  one  of 
the  saltpetre  caves  of  Kentucky.  Dr.  Drake's  notice  of 
this  curious  circumstance,  which  I  have  just  read,  confirms 
this  opinion;  though  an  ingenious  friend  has  supposed,  that 
the  head  carved  on  the  vase,  was  that  of  the  bear.  The 
head  mentioned  by  Dr.  Drake,  seems  to  have  been  pre- 
served with  superstitious  care,  with  the  same  intent,  proba- 
bly, that  the  ibis  and  the  beetle  were  embalmed  by  the 
Egyptians. 

That  bottles  ornamented  with  various  devices,  were 
sometimes  used  by  our  aborigines,  for  idolatrous  purposes, 
is  quite  certain,  from  the  one  found  at  Natchez,  and  now 
in  the  cabinet  of  the  American  Antiquarian  Society,  and 
also  from  the  three  headed  bottle,  discovered  in  a  mound, 
on  the  Cumberland  river.  These  heads  are  supposed  by 
Mr.  Atwater,  to  represent  the  three  principal  idols  of  India, 
Brahma,  Vishnoo,  and  Siva.  He,  therefore,  is  of  opinion, 
that  the  authors  of  our  ancient  works  in  the  west,  originated 
in  Hindostan.  These  works,  we  know,  are  located  near 
our  principal  rivers.  "  To  the  consecrated  streams  of  Hin- 
dostan, devotees  assembled  from  all  parts  of  the  empire,  to 
worship  their  gods,  and  to  purify  themselves  by  bathing  in 
their  sacred  waters.  In  this  country,  the  sacred  places  of 
the  aborigines  were  uniformly  on  the  bank  of  some  river, 
and  who  knows,  but  that  the  INIuskingum,  the  Scioto,  the 
Miami,  the  Ohio,  the  Cumberland,  and  the  JVIississippi, 
were  once  deemed  as  sacred,  and  their  banks  as  thickly 
settled  and  as  well  cultivated,  as  are  now,  the  Indus,  the 
Ganges,  and  the  Burrampooter."  J.  G. 


THE  GOLDEN   EAGLE. 

FALCO  CHRYSAETOS. 

In  symmetry,  in  strength,  in  the  vigour  of  her  wing,  the 
acuteness  of  her  vision,  and  the  terrible  clutch  of  her  talons, 
the  Golden  Eagle  is  superior  to  every  other  bird ;  and  as 
her  habitation  is  always  in  those  time-built  palaces,  the 


most  lofty  and  inaccessible  precipices,  there  is  sublimity  in 
her  dwelling;  and  though  in  reality  a  long-lived  bird,  she 
has  popularly  gained  a  sort  of  immortality,  from  the  durable 
nature  of  her  abode.  It  appears  to  be  one  of  the  general 
provisions  of  nature,  that  the  most  powerful  destroyers  of 
living  animals  should  have  their  favourite  haunts  in  the 
most  lonely  places;  and  in  this,  the  lion,  the  most  powerful 
of  quadrupeds,  and  the  Golden  Eagle,  the  most  vigorous  of 
birds,  completely  agree.  There  is,  however,  a  wonderful 
difierence  in  the  distances  at  which  they  can  discover  their 
prey:  the  lion  springs  only  a  few  yards,  wliile  the  eagle 
darts  down  from  the  mid-heaven,  in  one  perpendicular  and 
accelerating  stoop. 

The  Golden  Eagle  is  among  the  largest  as  well  as  the 
most  powerful  of  birds.  Specimens  have  been  found,  mea- 
suring nearly  four  feet  in  length,  and  about  nine  feet  across 
the  wings,  when  they  were  fully  extended.  Specimens  of 
much  larger  dimensions  have  also  been  seen,  one  of  which 
was  shot  at  Warkworth,  measured  eleven  feet  three  inches 
from  the  tip  of  the  one  wing  to  that  of  the  other,  and 
weighed  eighteen  pounds.  Probably  large  specimens  were 
more  abundant  formerly,  when  the  wild  countries  were  left 
freer  to  their  range  than  they  are  now.  The  average  dimen- 
sions may  be  taken  at  three  feet  long,  and  seven  feet  and  a 
half  in  expanse,  in  the  male;  and  three  feet  and  a  half  long, 
and  eight  feet  in  expanse,  in  the  female.  This  great  extent 
of  wings,  makes  these  when  folded  as  long  as  the  tail.  Con- 
sidering its  breadth  and  strength,  the  Golden  Eagle  is  not 
a  very  heavy  animal,  the  average  weight  being  about  twelve 
pounds  for  the  male,  and  fifteen  for  the  female.  The  figure 
is,  however,  compact,  and  the  parts  admirably  balanced ; 
and  both  the  individual  parts  and  the  general  arrangement 
and  symmetry,  are  indicative  of  great  strength.  In  order 
that  the  powerful  muscles  and  tendons  by  which  the  talons 
are  moved  may  be  protected  from  the  weather,  the  tarsi, 
or  feet-bones  of  the  Eagle  are  closely  feathered,  down  to 
the  very  division  of  the  toes.  The  general  colour  of  the 
toes,  is  yellow;  they  are  defended  above  by  horny  plates, 
or  scales,  of  which  there  are  only  three  on  the  last  joint  of 
each  toe,  and  they  are  furnished  with  talons,  which  are 
strong,  black,  sharp,  and  very  much  hooked.  So  admirable 
is  the  mechanism  by  which  the  toes  and  talons  of  the  Eagle 
are  moved,  that  a  dried  foot  may  be  made  to  act  powerfully 
by  pulling  the  tendons,  long  after  it  has  been  dead;  and  the 
tendons  themselves  are  among  the  toughest  of  natural  sub- 
stances. There  is  considerable  dignity  in  the  repose  of  the 
Eagle;  she  usually  sits  upon  a  pinnacle  of  rock,  where  she 
can  command  an  extensive  view;  and  the  head  is  often 
recurvated,  so  that  one  eye  is  directed  to  the  front,  and  the 
other  to  the  rear.  The  knobs  on  the  under  part  of  the  toes 
prevent  any  injury  from  the  roughest  rock,  and  take  a  firm 


200 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


hold  of  the  most  slippery:  so  that  the  Eagle  on  her  two  feet 
seems  as  firmly  based  as  most  quadrupeds  do  on  four.  The 
hold  which  she  thus  takes  of  the  surface,  and  the  powerful 
action  of  the  muscles  that  move  the  toes,  give  her  another 
advantage;  for  by  those  combined  powers,  she  can  throw 
herself  with  a  bound  into  the  air,  at  the  same  time  that  she 
expands  her  wings,  and  thus,  contrary  to  the  vulgar  belief, 
rear  usually  from  level  ground.  When,  however,  the  Eagle 
has  been  feeding  in  any  other  place  than  near  her  abode, 
she  shows  an  unwillingness  to  rise.  As  she  is  so  constituted 
as  to  be  able  to  bear  hunger  four  or  five  weeks,  her  feeding 
is  voracious  in  proportion;  and  as,  notwithstanding  that  she 
shows  considerable  adroitness  in  plucking  birds,  and  skin- 
ning quadrupeds,  she  always  swallows,  more  or  less,  of  the 
indigestible  e.vuvise,  as  well  as  the  bones  of  the  smaller  prey, 
her  meal  is  heavy.  This,  in  all  probability,  has  given  rise 
to  the  vulgar  opinion. 

The  following  description  of  tlie  adult  female,  given  in 
Selby's  admirable  work  on  "  British  Ornithology,"  is  accu- 
rate:— Bill  bluish  at  the  base,  the  tip  black.  Cere,  (the 
naked  skin  at  the  base  of  the  bill,)  lemon-j'ellow.  Irides, 
orange-brown.  Primary  quills,  black,  the  secondary  ones, 
clouded  with  hair-brown,  broccoli-brown,  and  umber- 
brown.  Crown  of  the  head,  and  nape  of  the  neck,  pale 
orange-brown;  the  feathers  occasionally  marginated  with 
white,  narrow,  elongated,  and  distinct.  Chin  and  throat, 
dark  umber-brown.  Vent,  pale  reddish  brown.  Tail,  pale 
broccoli-brown,  barred  with  blackish  brown,  and  ending  in 
a  broad  band  of  the  same  colour.  Tarsi,  clothed  with  pale 
reddish-brown  feathers.  Toes  naked,  yellow.  Claws  black, 
very  strong,  and  much  hooked. 

In  the  young  bird,  the  irides  of  the  eyes  are  not  so  yel- 
low; the  back  and  coverts  of  the  wings  are  of  a  deeper 
brown;  there  are  some  white  feathers  on  the  breast  and 
belly;  the  inside  of  the  thighs  are  white;  the  feathers  on 
the  tarsi,  white;  the  feathers  of  the  wings,  white  at  their 
bases;  and  the  tail,  white,  for  a  part  of  its  length  from  the 
root,  which  becomes  less  at  each  successive  moulting. 
These  distinctions  diminish  till  the  fourth  year,  when  the 
bird  arrives  at  its  full  size;  they  are  then  lost,  and  the  age 
cannot  be  known  for  a  number  of  years.  The  story  that  is 
usually  told  about  the  Eagle  renewing  her  age,  is  of  course 
without  foundation,  though  it  probably  relates  to  the  moult- 
ing or  change  of  the  feathers,  which  happens  to  the  Eagle 
as  well  as  to  other  birds. 

Though  the  Golden  Eagle,  as  found  in  England,  be  per- 
fectly untameable,  there  is  a  constant  sexual  attachment  in 
the  race.  The  greater  number  of  other  birds  pair  only 
during  the  breeding  season,  and  become  indifferent  to  each 
other  after  the  young  can  subsist  by  themselves;  but  the 
nuptials  of  the  Eagle  are  for  life.      After  a  male  and  female 


have  paired,  they  never  separate,  or  change  their  abode, 
and  rear  all  their  successive  broods  in  the  same  nest,  which 
being  made  of  strong  twigs  five  or  six  feet  long,  firmly  wat- 
tled and  placed  in  some  fissure  or  hollow  of  an  abrupt  rock, 
is  supposed  to  last  for  centuries  with  only  additional  repairs. 
The  pair,  though  they  drive  off  their  young,  and,  indeed, 
every  creature  but  man,  whose  haunts  they  shun,  are  closely 
associated  together:  when  the  ons  is  seen  for  any  length  of 
time,  the  other  is  sure  not  to  be  far  distant;  and  the  one 
may  often  be  seen  flying  low  and  beating  the  bushes,  while 
the  other  floats  high  in  air,  in  order  to  pounce  upon  the 
frightened  prey. 

The  time  that  they  live,  has  not  been  accurately  ascer- 
tained ;  but  their  longevity  must  be  very  great.  In  their 
strength  they  are  proof  against  the  elements,  for  the  strong- 
est gale  does  not  much  impede  their  motion;  and  their 
powers  of  endurance  enable  them  to  sustain  very  great 
casualties  in  respect  of  food.  In  many  parts  of  Scotland, 
where  they  are  much  more  numerous  than  in  England, 
there  are  pairs  that  have  nestled  in  the  same  cliffs,  beyond 
the  memory  of  the  inhabitants.  One  of  these  places  is 
Lochlee,  at  the  head  of  the  North  Esk  in  Forfarshire.  That 
lake  lies  in  a  singular  basin,  between  perpendicular  cliffs  on 
the  north,  and  high  and  precipitous  mountains  on  the  south. 
A  pair  of  Eagles  inhabit  each  side,  so  that  three  may  some- 
times be  seen  floating  in  the  air  at  once;  but  those  that  have 
their  abode  in  the  inaccessible  clifis  on  the  north,  seem  to 
be  lords  of  the  place,  as  the  south  ones  do  not  venture  to 
beat  the  valley  while  these  are  on  the  wing.  Nor  is  it  in 
their  native  freedom  only  that  Eagles  attain  a  great  age; 
for  there  was  one  kept  in  a  state  of  confinement  at  Vienna 
for  one  hundred  and  four  years. 

The  female  lays  usually  two  eggs,  which  are  supposed  to 
produce  a  male  and  a  female;  sometimes  she  lays  only  one, 
and  very  rarely  three.  The  eggs  are  of  a  dirty-white  colour 
with  reddish  spots.  The  young  are  produced  after  thirty 
days'  incubation.  When  they  come  out  of  the  shell,  they 
arc  covered  with  a  white  down;  and  their  first  feathers  are 
of  a  pale  yellow.  They  are  exceedingly  voracious;  and  the 
old  ones,  though  they  drive  them  from  the  eyrie  as  soon  as 
they  are  able  to  shift  for  themselves,  are,  up  to  that  period, 
equally  assiduous  in  finding  them  food,  and  bold  in  defend- 
ing them  from  attack.  The  vicinity  of  an  Eagle's  nest  is 
usually  indeed  a  scene  of  blood,  as  the  prey,  if  not  killed 
by  the  blow  of  the  wing  or  the  clutch  of  the  talons,  is  car- 
ried to  the  ledge  that  contains  the  nest,  and  despatched 
there. 

Of  the  boldness  of  the  Eagles  at  that  time,  many  stories 
are  told;  and  they  are  so  universal,  that  there  must  be  some 
foundation  for  tliem.  When  the  old  ones  are  at  the  nest, 
the  boldest  fowler  dares  not  approach  it,  as  one  flap  of  the 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


wing  will  strike  a  man  dead  to  the  ground.  Even  when 
they  are  absent,  an  attack  on  their  brood  is  far  from  safe, 
as  they  see  so  far,  and  can  come  so  rapidly.  An  Irish 
peasant  had  discovered  the  eyrie  of  a  pair  of  Eagles  on  one 
of  the  islands  in  the  Lake  of  Killarney;  and  watching  the 
absence  of  the  parents,  he  swam  to  the  island,  climbed  the 
rocks,  made  prize  of  the  Eaglets,  and  dashing  into  the  lake, 
made  for  the  shore;  but  before  he  had  reached  it,  and  while 
only  his  head  was  above  water,  the  Eagles  came,  killed  him 
on  the  spot,  and  bore  off  their  rescued  brood  in  triumph. 
In  the  northern  islands,  where  cormorants,  gulls,  and  other 
aquatic  birds  breed  in  immense  numbers,  the  Eagles  com- 
mit terrible  devastation  among  the  young;  though  in  these 
places  the  Sea  Eagle  is  often  mistaken  for  the  Golden 
Eagle.  They  also  attack  full-grown  deer,  and  even  foxes, 
wolves,  and  bears;  they  generally  fasten  on  the  heads  of 
the  larger  quadrupeds,  tear  out  their  eyes,  and  then  beat 
them  to  death  with  their  wings. 

There  are  accounts  of  their  carrying  off  infants  in  Britain; 
and  in  places  farther  to  the  north,  they  have  carried  off 
children  a  little  more  advanced.  Instances  of  this  are 
mentioned  in  Iceland,  in  the  Faroe  islands,  and  in  Nor- 
way. In  the  parish  of  Nooder-hangs  in  the  last  country, 
a  boy  two  years  of  age  was  carried  off  in  1737,  though  his 
parents  were  close  at  hand,  and  made  all  the  exertions  in 
their  power  to  scare  the  spoiler;  nor  were  they  able  to 
follow  her  to  the  place  of  her  retreat.  In  Tinkalen  (Faroe 
islands)  a  child  was  carried  ofl',  and  the  mother  climbed  the 
liitherto  unascended  precipice,  but  the  child  was  dead. 
Ray  mentions  a  case  in  the  Orkneys,  where  the  mother 
was  more  fortunate;  and  it  probably  is  the  foundation  of 
the  following  tale,  which  appeared  in  Blackwood's  Maga- 
zine for  November,  1826,  and  which  bears  the  exquisitely 
graphic  stamp  of  Professor  Wilson. 

The  Story  of  Hannah  Lamond. — "Almost  all  the  peo- 
ple in  the  parish  were  leading  in  their  meadow-hay  on  the 
same  day  of  Midsummer,  so  drying  was  the  sunshine  and 
the  wind, — and  huge  heaped-up  wains,  that  almost  hid  from 
view  the  horses  that  drew  them  along  the  sward,  beginning 
to  get  green  with  second  growth,  were  moving  in  all  di- 
rections towards  the  snug  farm-yards.  Never  had  the 
parish  seemed  before  so  populous.  Jocund  was  the  balmy 
air  with  laughter,  whistle,  and  song.  But  the  treegnomens 
tlirew  the  shadow  of  '  one  o'clock'  on  the  green  dial-face 
of  the  earth — the  horses  were  unyoked,  and  took  instantly 
to  grazing — groups  of  men,  women,  lads,  lasses,  and  chil- 
dren, collected  under  grove  and  bush,  and  hedge-row, — 
graces  were  pronounced,  and  the  great  Being  who  gave 
them  that  day  their  daily  bread,  looked  down  from  his 
eternal  throne,  well-pleased  with  the  piety  of  his  thankful 
creatures.  The  great  Golden  Eagle,  the  pride  and  the  pest 
3E 


of  the  parish,  stooped  down,  and  away  with  sometliing  in 
his  talons.  One  single,  sudden  female  shriek — and  then 
shouts  and  outcries  as  if  a  church-spire  had  tumbled  down 
on  a  congregation  at  a  sacrament!  'Hannah  Lamond's 
bairn!  Hannah  Lamond's  bairn!'  was  the  loud,  fast  spread- 
ing cry.  <The  Eagles  ta'en  aff  Hannah  Lamond's  bairn!' 
and  many  hundred  feet  were  in  another  instant  hurrying 
towards  the  mountain.  Two  miles  of  hill,  and  dale,  and 
copse,  and  shingle,  and  many  intersecting  brooks  lay  be- 
tween; but  in  an  incredibly  short  time,  the  foot  of  the 
mountain  was  alive  with  people.  The  eyrie  was  well- 
known,  and  both  old  birds  were  visible  on  the  rock-ledge. 
But  who  shall  scale  that  dizzy  cliff,  which  Mark  Steuart  the 
sailor,  who  had  been  at  the  storming  of  many  a  fort,  at- 
tempted in  vain?  All  kept  gazing,  weeping,  wringing  of 
hands  in  vain,  rooted  to  the  ground,  or  running  back  and 
forwards,  like  so  many  ants  essa}ing  their  new  wings  in 
discomfiture.  'What's  the  use — what's  the  use  o'  ony  puir 
human  means?  We  have  no  power  but  in  prayer!'  and 
many  knelt  down — fathers  and  mothers,  thinking  of  their 
own  babies,  as  if  they  would  force  the  deaf  heavens  to  hear! 

"Hannah  Lamond  had  all  this  while  been  sitting  on  a 
rock,  with  a  face  perfectly  white,  and  eyes  like  those  of  a 
mad  person,  fixed  on  the  eyrie.  Nobody  had  noticed  her; 
for  strong  as  all  sympathies  with  her  had  been  at  the  swoop 
of  the  Eagle,  they  were  now  swallowed  up  in  the  agony  of 
eyesight.  '  Only  last  Sabbath  was  my  sweet  wee  wean 
baptized:'  and  on  uttering  these  words,  she  flew  off  through 
the  brakes  and  over  the  huge  stones,  up — up — up — faster 
than  ever  huntsman  ran  in  to  the  death, — fearless  as  a  goat 
playing  among  precipices.  No  one  doubted,  no  one  could 
doubt,  that  she  would  soon  be  dashed  to  pieces.  But  have 
not  people  who  walk  in  their  sleep,  obedient  to  the  myste- 
rious guidance  of  dreams,  clomb  the  walls  of  old  ruins,  and 
found  footing,  even  in  decrepitude,  along  the  edge  of  un- 
guarded battlements  and  down  dilapidated  staircases,  deep 
as  draw-wells  or  coal-pits,  and  returned  with  open,  fixed, 
and  unseeing  eyes,  unharmed  to  their  beds,  at  midnight? 
It  is  all  the  work  of  the  soul,  to  whom  the  body  is  a  slave; 
and  shall  not  the  agony  of  a  mother's  passion — who  sees  her 
baby,  whose  warm  mouth  has  just  left  her  breast,  hurried 
off  by  a  demon  to  a  hideous  death — bear  her  limbs  aloft 
wherever  there  is  dust  to  dust,  till  she  reach  that  devour- 
ing den,  and  fiercer  and  more  furious  far,  in  the  passion  of 
love,  than  any  bird  of  prey  that  ever  bathed  its  beak  in 
blood,  throttle  the  fiends,  that  with  their  heavy  wings, 
would  fain  flap  her  down  the  cliffs,  and  hold  up  her  child 
in  deliverance  before  the  eye  of  the  all-seeing  God? 

"No  stop — no  stay — she  knew  not  that  she  drew  her 
breath.  Beneath  her  feet  Providence  fastened  every  loose 
stone,  and  to  her  hands  strengthened  every  root.     How 


202 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


was  she  ever  to  descend  ?  That  fear,  then,  hut  once  crossed 
her  heart,  as  up — up — up  to  the  little  image  made  of  her 
own  flesh  and  blood.  '  The  God  who  holds  me  now  from 
perishing — will  not  the  same  God  save  me  when  my  child 
is  on  my  bosom?'  Down  came  the  fierce  rushing  of  the 
Eagles'  wings — each  savage  bird  dashing  close  to  her  head, 
so  that  she  saw  the  yellow  of  their  wrathful  eyes.  All  at 
once  they  quailed,  and  were  cowed.  Yelling,  they  flew  off" 
to  the  slump  of  an  ash  jutting  out  of  a  cliif,  a  thousand 
feet  above  the  cataract,  and  the  Christian  mother  falling 
across  the  eyrie,  in  the  midst  of  bones  and  blood,  clasped 
her  child — dead — dead — dead,  no  doubt, — but  unmangled 
and  untorn,  and  swaddled  up  just  as  it  was  when  she  laid 
it  down  asleep  among  the  fresli  hay,  in  a  nook  of  the  harvest 
field.  Oh!  what  pang  of  perfect  blessedness  transfixed  her 
heart  from  that  faint  feeble  cry — 'It  lives — it  lives — it 
lives!'  and  baring  her  bosom,  with  loud  laughter  and  eyes 
dry  as  stones,  she  felt  the  lips  of  the  unconscious  innocent 
once  more  murmuring  at  the  fount  of  life  and  love! 

"Where,  all  this  while,  was  Mark  Steuart,  the  sailor? 
Half  way  up  the  cliffs.  But  his  eye  had  got  dim,  and  his 
head  dizz}',  and  his  heart  sick;  and  he  who  had  so  often 
reefed  the  top-gallant-sail,  when  at  midnight  the  coming  of 
the  gale  was  heard  afar,  covered  his  face  with  his  hands, 
and  dared  look  no  longer  on  the  swimming  heights.  'And 
who  will  take  care  of  my  poor  bed-ridden  mother,'  thought 
Hannah,  whose  soul,  through  the  exhaustion  of  so  many 
passions,  could  no  more  retain  in  its  grasp  that  hope  which 
it  had  clutched  in  despair.  A  voice  whispered  'God.' 
She  looked  round  expecting  to  see  an  angel,  but  nothing 
moved  except  a  rotten  branch,  that  under  its  own  weight, 
broke  ofi'  from  tlie  crumbling  rock.  Her  eye,  by  some  secret 
sympathy  of  her  soul  with  the  inanimate  object,  watched  its 
fall;  and  it  seemed  to  stop,  notfaroff'on  a  small  platform.  Her 
child  was  bound  within  her  bosom — she  remembered  not 
how  or  when — but  it  was  safe — and  scarcely  daring  to  open 
her  eyes,  she  slid  down  the  shelving  rocks,  and  found  herself 
on  a  small  piece  of  firm  root-bound  soil,  with  the  tops  of 
bushes  appearing  below.  With  fingers  suddenly  strength- 
ened into  the  power  of  iron,  she  swung  herself  down  by 
briar  and  broom,  and  heather,  and  dwarf  birch.  There  a 
loosened  stone  lept  over  a  ledge,  and  no  sound  was  heard, 
so  profound  was  its  fall.  There,  the  shingle  rattled  down 
the  screes,  and  she  hesitated  not  to  follow.  Her  feet 
bounded  against  the  huge  stone  that  stopped  them,  but  she 
felt  no  pain.  Her  body  was  callous  as  the  cliff.  Steep  as 
the  wall  of  a  house  was  now  the  side  of  the  precipice. 
But  it  was  matted  with  ivy,  centuries  old — long  ago  dead, 
and  without  a  single  green  leaf — but  with  thousands  of 
arm-thick  stems  petrified  into  the  rock,  and  covering  it  as 
with  a  trellice.      She  bound   her  baby  to  her  neck,  and 


with  hands  and  feet  clung  to  that  fearful  ladder.  Turning 
round  her  head,  and  looking  down,  lo!  the  whole  population 
of  the  parish,  so  great  was  the  multitude,  on  their  knees! 
and  hush,  the  voice  of  psalms — a  hymn,  breathing  the 
spirit  of  one  united  prayer!  Sad  and  solemn  was  the  strain 
— but  nothing  dirge-like — breathing  not  of  death,  but  de- 
liverance. Often  had  she  sung  that  tune,  perhaps  the  very 
words,  but  them  she  heard  not,  in  her  own  hut — she  and 
her  mother — or  in  the  kirk,  along  with  all  the  congrega- 
tion. An  unseen  hand  seemed  fastening  her  fingers  to  the 
ribs  of  ivy,  and  in  sudden  inspiration,  believing  that  her 
life  was  to  be  saved,  she  became  almost  as  fearless  as  if  she 
had  been  changed  into  a  winged  creature.  Again  her  feet 
touched  stones  and  earth — the  psalm  was  hushed — but  a 
tremulous  sobbing  voice  was  close  beside  her,  and  lo!  a 
she  goat,  with  two  little  kids  at  her  feet!'  'Wild  heights,' 
thought  she,  '  do  these  creatures  climb,  but  the  dam  will 
lead  down  her  kid  by  the  easiest  paths;  for  0,  even  in 
the  brute  creatures,  what  is  the  holy  power  of  a  mother's 
love!'  and  turning  round  her  head,  she  kissed  her  sleep- 
ing baby,  and  for  the  first  time  she  wept. 

"  Overhead  frowned  the  front  of  the  precipice,  never 
touched  before  by  human  hand  or  foot.  No  one  had  ever 
dreamt  of  scaling  it;  and  the  Golden  Eagles  knew  that  well 
in  their  instinct,  as,  before  they  built  their  e5'rie,  they  had 
brushed  it  with  their  wings.  But  all  the  rest  of  this  part 
of  the  mountain  side,  though  scarred,  and  seamed,  and 
chasmed,  was  yet  accessible — and  more  than  one  person 
in  the  parish  had  reached  the  bottom  of  the  Glead's  Cliflf. 
Many  were  now  attempting  it,  and  ere  the  cautious  mother 
had  followed  her  dumb  guides  a  hundred  j-ards  through, 
among  dangers  that,  although  enough  to  terrify  the  stoutest 
heart,  were  traversed  by  her  without  a  shudder,  the  head 
of  one  man  appeared,  and  then  the  head  of  another,  and  she 
knew  that  God  had  delivered  her  and  her  child  in  safety, 
into  the  care  of  their  fellow-creatures.  Not  a  word  was 
spoken — eyes  said  enough — she  hushed  her  friends  with 
her  hands,  and  with  uplifted  eyes  pointed  to  the  guides  sent 
to  her  by  heaven.  Small  green  plats,  where  those  crea- 
tures nibble  the  wild  flowers,  became  now  more  frequent 
trodden  lines,  almost  as  easy  as  sheep-paths,  showed  that 
the  dam  had  not  led  her  young  into  danger;  and  now  the 
brushwood  dwindled  away  into  straggling  shrubs,  and  the 
party  stood  on  a  little  eminence  above  the  stream^  and 
forming  part  of  the  strath.  There  had  been  trouble  and 
agitation,  much  sobbing  and  many  tears  among  the  multi- 
tude, while  the  mother  was  scaling  the  cliffs, — sublime  was 
the  shout  that  echoed  afar  the  moment  she  reached  the 
eyrie, — and  now  that  her  salvation  was  sure,  the  great 
crowd  rustled  like  a  wind-swept  wood. 

"And  for  whose  sake  was  all  this  alternation  of  agony? 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


203 


A  poor  humble  creature,  unknown  to  many  even  by  name 
— one  who  had  had  but  few  friends,  nor  wished  for  more — 
contented  to  work  all  day,  here — there — anywhere — that 
she  might  be  able  to  support  her  aged  mother  and  her  little 
child — and  who  on  sabbath  took  her  seat  in  an  obscure 
pew,  set  apart  for  paupers  in  the  kirk! 

« '  Fall  back,  and  give  her  fresh  air,  said  the  old  minis- 
ter of  the  parish;  and  the  circle  of  close  faces  widened 
round  her,  lying  as  in  death.  '  Gie  me  the  bonny  bit  bairn 
into  my  arms,'  cried  first  one  mother,  and  then  another, 
and  it  was  tenderly  handed  round  the  circle  of  kisses, 
many  of  the  snooded  maidens  bathing  its  face  in  tears. 
'  There's  no  a  single  scratch  about  the  puir  innocent,  for 
the  Eagle,  you  see,  maun,  hae  stuck  its  talons  into  the 
long  claes  and  the  shawl.  Blin!  blin!  maun  they  be  who 
see  not  the  finger  o'  God  in  this  thing!' 

"  Hannah  started  up  from  her  swoon,  looking  wildly 
round,  and  cried,  '0!  the  bird,  the  bird! — the  Eagle,  the 
Eagle!  The  Eagle  has  carried  off  my  bonny  wee  Walter — 
is  there  nane  to  pursue?'  A  neighbour  put  her  baby  into 
her  breast, — and  shutting  her  eyes,  and  smiting  her  fore- 
head, the  sorely  bewildered  creature  said  in  a  low  voice, 
'  Am  I  wauken — 0  tell  me  if  I'm  wauken,  or  if  a'  this  be 
the  wark  o'  a  fever,  and  the  delirium  o'  a  dream.?'  " 

The  strength  of  wing  and  muscular  vigour  of  the  Eagle 
are  truly  astonishing.  The  flesh  has  not,  as  some  have 
alleged,  any  offensive  smell  or  taste,  but  it  resembles  a 
bundle  of  cords,  and  cannot  be  eaten.  Some  notion  of  its 
power  may  be  formed  from  the  statement  of  Ramond,  when 
he  had  ascended  JNIont  Perdu,  the  loftiest  of  the  Pyrenees, 
and  nearly  three  miles  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  He  had 
for  a  considerable  distance  bid  adieu  to  every  living  thing, 
animal  or  vegetable;  but  right  over  the  summit  there  was 
a  Golden  Eagle  far  above  him,  dashing  rapidly  to  wind- 
ward against  a  strong  gale,  and  apparently  in  her  element 
and  at  her  ease. 

In  the  regions  which  she  inhabits,  the  Golden  Eagle, 
like  the  lion,  owns  no  superior  but  man,  and  she  owns 
him  as  such  only  on  account  of  his  intellectual  resources. 
When  taken  ever  so  young,  there  is  no  very  well  authen- 
ticated account  of  the  taming  of  an  Eagle.  The  wandering 
hordes  to  the  eastward  of  the  Caspian  sea,  do,  indeed,  train 
Eagles  to  hunt  both  game  and  wild  beasts;  and  Marco 
Polo,  the  father  of  modern  travellers,  who,  in  the  early 
part  of  the  thirteenth  century,  spent  six  and  twenty  years 
in  a  pilgrimage  over  the  east,  and  revealed  the  wonders  of 
the  whole,  as  far  as  Cathay  or  China  itself,  records  the 
Eagle  hunts  at  the  court  of  the  great  Khan  of  Tartary,  as 
among  the  greatest  marvels  with  which  he  met.  It  is  pro- 
bable that  the  Eagle  thus  trained  to  falconry,  may  have 


been  the  imperial  Eagle,  which  is  much  more  common  in 
the  south  and  east,  and  which,  though  a  powerful  bird,  is 
not  quite  so  savage  as  the  Golden  Eagle.  That  the  Eagle 
was  never  used  in  European  falconry,  is  certain.  It  is 
invariably  classed  with  the  "  ignoble  falcons,"  or  those 
that  keep  as  well  as  kill  their  prey.  One  bird  is  said  to 
give  the  Eagle  more  trouble  than  any  other,  and  that  is 
the  heron,  rather  a  light  and  feeble  bird.  The  heron  gets 
under  the  shelter  of  a  stone,  or  the  stump  of  a  tree,  where 
neither  the  wing  nor  the  talons  of  the  Eagle  can  be  eflTec- 
tive;  and  from  that  position  it  twists  round  its  long  neck, 
and  bites  and  gnaws  the  leg  of  its  enemy.  Several  years 
ago,  a  heron  was  put  into  the  cage  of  a  powerful  Eagle,  at 
the  Duke  of  Athol's,  at  Blair.  It  immediately  betook 
itself  to  the  shelter  of  a  block  of  wood,  which  the  Eagle 
had  for  a  perch,  and  began  to  nibble  and  bite;  nor  did  the 
Eagle  vanquish  it  till  after  a  contest  of  twenty-four  hours. 
It  is  not  very  often,  however,  that  the  Golden  Eagle  fre- 
quents the  haunts  of  the  heron;  her  favourite  ranges  are 
the  open  moors  and  uplands,  where  the  prey  can  be  seen 
from  a  great  distance,  and  there  is  little  cover  to  shelter 
it.  In  England  they  do  not  often  come  to  the  woods, 
though  they  do  so  in  the  mountainous  parts  of  France, 
where  the  winter  is  proportionally  more  severe,  and  the 
animals,  upon  which  they  prey  at  other  times,  are  passing 
the  cold  season  dormant  in  their  holes. 


AN  EXPLANATION 

Of  the  Technical  Terms  used  hj  Ornithologists,  descriptive  of  particular 
parts. 

A — AuRicuLARs, — feathers  which  cover  the  ears. 

BB — The  BASTARD  WING,  [alulia  spuria,  Lin.]  three 
or  five  quill-like  feathers,  placed  at  a  small  joint  rising  at 
the  middle  part  of  the  wing. 


204 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


CC  — The  LESSER  COVERTS  of  the  wings,  \tectr  ices  prima:, 
Lin.]  small  feathers  that  lie  in  several  rows  on  the  bones 
of  the  wings.  The  under  coverts  are  those  that  line  the 
inside  of  the  wings. 

DD — The  GREATER  coverts,  \tectrices  secundse,  Lin.] 
the  feathers  that  lie  immediately  over  the  quill  feathers  and 
the  secondaries. 

GG — The  PRIMARIES,  or  primary  quills,  [primores, 
Lin.]  the  largest  feathers  of  the  wings:  they  rise  from  the 
first  bone. 

EE — The  secondaries,  or  secondary  quills,  [^secon- 
durise,  Lin.]  those  that  rise  from  the  second  bone. 

HII — The  TERTiALS.  These  also  take  their  rise  from  the 
second  bone,  at  the  elbow  joint,  forming  a  continuation  of 
the  secondaries,  and  seem  to  do  the  same  with  the  scapu- 
lars, which  lie  over  them.  These  feathers  are  so  long  in 
some  of  the  Scolopax  and  Tringa  genera,  that  when  the 
bird  is  flying,  they  give  it  the  appearance  of  having  four 
wings. 

SS — The  SCAPULARS,  or  scapular  feathers,  take  their 
rise  from  the  shoulders,  and  cover  the  sides  of  the  back. 

p — Coverts  of  the  tail,  [uropygium,  Lin.]  These  fea- 
thers cover  it  on  the  upper  side,  at  the  base. 

V — The  VENT  feathers,  [crissum,  Lin.]  those  that  lie 
from  the  vent,  or  anus,  to  the  tail  underneath. 


These  hairs  in  this  bird  are  very  stiff,  and  spread  out  on 
each  side  like  a  comb  from  the  upper  sides  of  the  mouth 
only. 

Serrated  like  a  saw.  Pectinated  signifies  toothed  like 
a  comb. 

The  Lore,  [loriim,  Lin.]  as  in  the  Grebe,  the  space  be- 
tween the  bill  and  the  eye,  which  in  this  genus  is  bare,  but 
in  other  birds  is  generally  covered  with  feathers. 

Fin-footed  and  scalloped,  [pin7iatus,  Lin.]  as  in  the 
feet  of  Coots. 

Pes  lobatus,  (Lin.)  Toes  furnished  on  the  sides  with 
broad  plain  membranes,  as  in  the  feet  of  the  Grebe. 

Wer-footed, — where  the  toes  are  connected  by  webs, 
as  in  Ducks. 

Semi-palmated,  \semi-palmatus,  Linnaeus,]  when  the 
middle  of  the  webs  reach  only  about  half  the  length  of  the 
toes. 

Ciliated,  [linguia  siliata,  Lin.]  when  the  tongue  is 
edged  with  fine  bristles,  as  in  Ducks. 

Nostrils  linear, — when  they  are  extended  lengthwise 
in  a  line  with  the  bill,  as  in  Divers,  &c. 

Nostrils  pervious, — when  they  are  open,  and  may  be 
seen  through  from  side  to  side,  as  in  Gulls,  &c. 

Seicick. 


Iris,  (plural  irides)  the  part  which  surrounds  the  pupil 
of  the  eye. 

Mandibles, — the  upper  and  under  parts  of  the  bill. 

Cosepressed, — flatted  at  the  sides  vertically. 

Depressed, — flatted  horizontally. 

CuNEATED, — wedge-shaped. 

The  CERE,  \^cera,  Lin.]  the  naked  skin  which  covers  the 
base  of  the  bill,  as  in  the  Hawk  kind. 

The  orbits,  [orbit a,  Lin.]  the  skin  which  surrounds  the 
eye.  It  is  generally  bare,  but  particularly  in  the  Parrot  and 
the  Heron. 

When  the  bill  is  notched  near  the  tip,  as  in  Shrikes, 
Thrushes,  &c.  it  is  called  by  Linnaeus  rostrum  emargina- 
tum. 

Vibrissas,  (Lin.)  are  hairs  that  stand  forward  like  feel- 
ers: in  some  birds  they  are  slender,  as  in  Flycatchers,  &c. 
and  point  both  upwards  and  downwards,  from  both  the  up- 
per and  under  sides  of  the  mouth. 

Capistrum, — a  word  used  by  Linnaeus  to  express  the 
short  feathers  on  the  forehead,  just  above  the  bill.  In 
some  birds  these  feathers  fall  forward  over  the  nostrils: 
they  quite  cover  those  of  the  Crow. 

Rostrum  cultratum,  (Lin.)  when  the  edges  of  the  bill 
are  very  sharp,  as  in  that  of  the  Crow. 

Vibrissa:  pectinatx,  (Lin.)  as  in  the  Whip-poor-will. 


WHIRLWINDS  AND  WATERSPOUTS. 

The  following  table  shows  the  velocities  of  the  different 
winds,  from  one  mile  in  an  hour,  when  the  motion  is 
scarcely  perceptible,  to  one  hundred  miles,  which  is  the 
speed  of  the  destructive  hurricane. 

Miles  Feet 

ler  hour.  per  second. 

1 1.47 

^ ^-^^^  Light  airs. 

3 4.40  5 

4 5.87?  r. 

5 7.33  r^'"'"- 

10 14-"?  Brisk  gale. 

15 22.O0S  ° 

>  Fresh  gale. 
25 36.673  ^ 

30 44.01?  „,  , 

35 51.34(^''"°"S§^le. 

40 58.88?  „     J       , 

45 66.01  ^"^■•''S^'^- 

50 73.35?  c* 

>•  Storm. 
60 88.02  3 

')  Hurricanes  tearing  up  trees,  over- 
go 117  36  f  .  of  > 

■      >  turning  buildings,  and  almost  every 

)  other  obstacle. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


When,  from  a  sudden  rarefaction,  or  any  other  cause, 
contrary  currents  of  air  meet  in  the  same  spot,  a  Whirl- 
wind is  produced.  Dr.  Franklin  gives  an  account  of  the 
formation  and  progress  of  one  of  these  meteors,  which  he 
witnessed  in  Maryland,  while  travelling  with  his  son.  "  In 
a  valley  below  us,"  says  he,  "  we  saw  a  small  whirlwind, 
which  began  in  the  road,  and  which  drew  attention  by  the 
dust  that  it  raised  and  contained.  It  appeared  like  a  sugar- 
loaf,  lengthened  at  the  point,  which  ascended  to  us  along 
the  hill,  increasing  in  size  as  it  advanced.  When  it  passed 
near  us,  its  smaller  end,  which  was  next  the  ground,  did 
not  appear  bigger  than  a  common  barrel,  but  it  grew  so 
large  towards  the  summit,  that  at  the  height  of  forty  or 
fifty  feet  it  seemed  to  be  twenty  or  thirty  feet  in  diameter. 
The  rest  of  the  company  stopped  to  look  at  it;  but,  as  m)-- 
curiosity  was  stronger  than  theirs,  I  followed  it  closely, 
and  observed  that,  on  its  passage,  it  licked  up,  if  I  may  use 
the  expression,  all  the  dust  which  was  beneath  its  lower 
end.  As  it  is  a  popular  opinion  that  a  shot  fired  at  a  water- 
spout will  make  it  burst,  I  endeavoured  to  break  this  small 
whirlwind,  by  striking  it  repeated  blows  with  my  whip, 
but  to  no  purpose.  In  a  short  time  it  quitted  the  road,  and 
entered  the  wood,  where  it  every  moment  became  larger 
and  stronger,  carrying  away,  instead  of  dust,  the  dry  leaves 
with  which  the  ground  was  thickly  strewed,  and  making 
a  great  noise  between  those  leaves  and  the  branches  of 
trees,  bending  and  turning  large  trees  circularly  with  asto- 
nishing force.  Though  the  progressive  motion  of  the 
whirlwind  was  not  so  fast  but  that  a  man  on  foot  might 
easily  keep  up  with  it,  yet  its  circular  motion  was  astonish- 
ingly rapid.  The  leaves  with  which  it  was  then  filled 
enabled  me  to  perceive  distinctly  that  the  current  of  air 
that  drove  them  ascended  from  below  to  above  in  a  spiral 
line,  and  when  I  looked  at  the  trunks  and  bodies  of  great 
trees  which  the  whirlwind  had  enveloped  as  it  passed  on, 
and  which  had  left  it  entire,  I  was  no  longer  astonished 
that  my  whip  could  produce  no  effect  on  it.  I  followed  it 
nearly  three  quarters  of  a  mile,  till  some  dead  branches  of 
trees,  broken  by  the  whirlwind,  flying  in  the  air,  and  fall- 
ing around  me,  made  me  apprehensive  of  danger.  I  there- 
fore stopped,  and  contented  myself  with  watching  the 
head  of  it  during  its  progress,  the  leaves  which  it  bore 
with  it  rendering  it  visible  at  a  great  height  above  the 
trees.  The  major  part  of  these  leaves,  escaping  freely  from 
the  upper  and  widest  part  of  the  whirlwind,  were  dispersed 
by  the  wind;  but  they  were  at  such  an  elevation  in  the  air 
that  they  did  not  seem  larger  than  flies.  My  son  followed 
the  whirlwind  through  the  wood,  on  quitting  which  it 
crossed  an  old  tobacco  plantation,  where,  finding  neither 
leaves  nor  dust  to  carry  away,  the  lower  part  of  it  became 
3F 


nearly  invisible,  and  at  lengtli  it  entirel}'  disappeared  above 
this  field."  This  meteor  moved  in  a  direction  almost  op- 
posite to  the  prevailing  wind,  and  not  in  a  straight  line; 
and  its  velocity  was  not  uniform,  as  it  seemed  occasionally 
to  be  stationary  for  a  few  seconds,  and  then  to  rush  for- 
ward with  increased  speed. 

It  is  not  always,  however,  that  whirlwinds  are  thus 
harmless.  They  are  often  combined  with  electrical  phe- 
nomena, in  which  case  they  scatter  destruction  over  a  con- 
siderable extent  of  country.  France,  particularly  in  the 
south,  has  often  suffered  from  their  violence.  In  August 
1S23,  one  of  them,  of  great  magnitude,  ravaged  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Anet,  in  the  department  of  the  Eure  and  Loire. 
It  extended  from  the  clouds  to  the  ground,  and  was 
formed  of  a  thick  and  blackish  vapour,  in  the  midst  of 
which  flames  frequently  appeared  in  various  directions. 
Rushing  furiously  forward,  it  rooted  up  and  broke  seven  or 
eight  hundred  trees  within  the  space  of  a  league,  and  then 
fell  impetuously  on  the  village  of  JNIarchefroy.  Half  the 
houses  of  the  village  were  destroyed  in  an  instant;  the 
walls  were  prostrated  on  all  sides,  and  the  roofs  were  torn 
off,  and  carried  to  the  distance  of  half  a  league,  by  the  irre- 
sistible impulse  of  the  aerial  torrent.  At  the  same  time 
the  meteor  discharged  a  shower  of  hailstones,  several  inches 
in  diameter,  which  broke  to  pieces  heavily  laden  wagons, 
and  destroyed  every  vestige  of  the  harvest.  A  still  more 
terrific  visitation  of  this  kind  was  experienced  in  August, 
1826,  in  the  department  of  the  Aude.  About  noon,  the 
clouds  began  to  gather  in  the  west,  a  violent  wind  arose, 
and  a  black  and  thick  cloud  appeared  suspended  over  a 
spot  called  the  Red  Field.  On  the  side  of  Fombraise,  the 
clouds  were  seen  to  rush  against  each  other,  and  to  descend 
very  low,  as  if  they  were  attracted  by  the  earth.  The 
thunder  echoed  from  all  parts;  a  dead  rolling  sound  was 
heard;  and  all  the  domestic  animals  fled  to  shelter.  All  at 
once  a  frightful  cracking  was  heard  in  the  west;  the  air, 
violently  agitated,  was  drawn  with  extreme  rapidity  to- 
wards the  opake  cloud  which  covered  the  Red  Field.  The 
moment  of  their  junction  was  marked  by  a  loud  explosion, 
and  the  appearance  of  a  column  of  fire,  which,  sweeping 
along  the  field,  rooted  up  every  thing  in  its  course.  A 
young  man,  who  was  unfortunate  enough  to  be  in  the  path 
of  the  meteor,  was  whirled  into  the  air,  and  fractured  his 
skull  by  falling  on  a  rock.  Fourteen  sheep  were  also 
snatched  up,  and  fell  suffocated.  The  column  of  air  and 
fire  then  proceeded  to  the  castle  of  Laconette,  threw  down 
the  west  wall  of  the  park,  made  two  excavations,  removed 
enormous  rocks,  rooted  up  the  largest  trees,  and  penetrated 
into  the  castle  in  two  places,  where  it  committed  the  most 
terrible  devastation.      After  having  thus  ravaged  a  con- 


206 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


siderable  extent  of  country,  it  finally  disappeared,  leaving 
the  ground  deeply  furrowed,  and  the  air  strongly  impreg- 
nated with  a  sulphureous  odour. 

The  same  effect  that  is  produced  by  two  contending 
currents  of  air  takes  place  in  another  element,  and  gulfs  or 
whirlpools  are  no  other  than  the  eddies  of  the  wa;er  formed 
by  the  action  of  two  or  more  opposite  currents.  The 
greatest  known  gulf  is  that  of  the  Norway  sea,  called 
Maalstroem,  or  Moskostroem,  which  is  affirmed  to  be  up- 
wards of  twenty  leagues  in  circuit.  It  absorbs  for  six 
hours  all  that  is  near  it,  water,  ships,  &c.  and  afterwards 
returns  them  in  the  same  space  of  time  as  it  drew  them  in. 
A  Waterspout  is  no  other  than  a  whirlwind  at  sea. 
The  vacuum  which  is  caused  by  the  meeting  currents 
causes  the  water  to  rise  up  in  the  form  of  a  cjlinder,  or 
rather  of  an  inverted  cone.  In  the  travels  of  M.  Thevenot 
there  is  a  very  minute  and  circumstantial  account  of  the 
formation  of  a  waterspout. 

"The  first,"  says  this  celebrated  voyager,  "which  ap- 
peared to  me  was  on  the  northern  coast,  between  us  and 
the  island  Quesomo,  at  a  gun  shot  from  the  ship;  the  head 
of  the   ship  was  then  to  the   northeast:  we  directly  per- 
ceived water  which  boiled  on  the  surface  of  the  sea  about  a 
foot  high;  it  was  whitish,  and  appeared  above  that  height 
like  a  thick  smoke,  so  that  it  properly  resembled  some 
burning  straw,  which  only  smoked;  it  made  a  noise  like 
that  of  a  torrent  which  runs  with  much  rapidity  in  a  deep 
valley:  but  this  noise  was  mixed  with  a  clearer,  similar  to 
the  strong  hissing  of  serpents  or  vipers;  a  little  while  after- 
wards we  perceived   something  like  a  dark  canal,  which 
bore  a  strong  resemblance  to  a  smoke  which  ascends  to- 
wards the  clouds,  turning  round  with  great  velocity:  this 
appeared  about  the  thickness  of  my  finger,  and  the  same 
noise  still  continued;   the  duration   of  this  spout  was  no 
longer  than  about  half  a  quarter  of  an  hour:  this  over,  we 
perceived  another  one  the  south  side  of  us,  which  began  in 
the  same  manner  as  the  preceding:  and  almost  as  soon,  a 
similar  one  made  its  appearance  on  the   west   side;    and 
directly  after  a  third  by  the  side  of  the  second;  the  farthest 
of  the  three  might  be  about  a  musket  shot  distance  from 
us:  they  all  three  appeared  like  burning  heaps  of  straw,  a 
foot  and  a  half  or  two  feet  high.     We  afterwards  saw  as 
many  canals,  which  descended  from  the  clouds  on  those 
places  where  the  water  was  raised  up,  and  each  of  them 
was  as  broad  at  the  end  fastened  to  the  cloud,  as  the  broad 
end  of  a  trumpet,  and  resembled  the  human  breast  or  that 
of  an  animal,   drawn  perpendicularly  down  by  a  heavy 
weight;  these  canals  appeared  of  a  darkish  white,  and  were 
not  straight,  but  crooked  in  some  places;  they  even  were 
not  perpendicular;   but  on  the  contrary,   from  the  clouds 
where  they  were  joined  to  the  parts  which  drew  in  the 


water,  they  were  very  much  bent;  and  what  is  more  par- 
ticular is,  that  having  been  driven  by  the  wind,  this  canal 
followed  it  without  breaking  or  quitting  the  place  where  it 
drew  in  the  water,  and  passing  behind  the  first  canal,  they 
were  sometimes  crossed  like  a  St.  Andrew's  Cross.  At 
the  beginning  they  were  all  three  about  the  thickness  of 
my  finger,  but  afterwards  the  first  of  the  three  increased 
considerably:  but  the  last  which  was  formed  scarcely  re- 
mained longer  than  that  which  we  saw  on  the  nOrth  side. 
The  second  on  the  south  side  remained  about  a  quarter  of 
an  hour,  but  the  first  on  that  side  remained  a  little  longer, 
and  this  it  was  which  terrified  us  the  most.  At  first  its 
canal  was  as  thick  as  my  ringer,  afterwards  as  thick  as  my 
arm,  then  as  my  leg,  and  at  last  as  tiie  trunk  of  a  large  tree, 
which  a  man  might  compass  with  his  arms.  We  distinctly 
perceived  water  through  this  transparent  body,  which 
ascended  in  a  serpentine  manner.  Sometimes  it  diminish- 
ed a  little  in  size,  sometimes  at  top  and  sometimes  at  bot- 
tom; and  then  it  resembled  exactly  a  soft  tube,  with  some 
fluid  matter  pressed  with  the  fingers,  either  upwards  to 
make  this  liquor  descend,  or  at  bottom,  to  cause  it  to  ascend. 
After  this  it  diminished  so  much  that  it  was  thinner  than 
my  arm;  afterwards  it  returned  as  thick  as  my  thigh,  and 
then  again  became  very  thin;  at  last,  I  saw  that  the  water 
elevated  on  the  surface  of  the  sea  began  to  lower,  and  the 
end  of  the  canal  which  touched  it  divided  and  grew  nar- 
rower, when  a  variation  of  the  light  removed  it  from  our 
view."  WrighVs  Buffon. 


RAIL. 

R.1LLUS  C^RO LINUS. 

[Plate  XVIIL] 

Soree,  Catesb.  i.  70. — ^rct.  Zool.  p.  491,  No.  409.— 
Little  Jlmtrican  Water  Hen,  Edw.  144. — Le  Rul  de 
Virginie,  Burr.  viii.  165. — Ralliis  Carolinus,  Lin. 
Syst.  p.  153,  No.  5,  ed.  10. — Gallinula  Carolina, 
Lath.  Ind.  Oni.p.  771,  No.  17.— J.  Doughty's  Col- 
lection. 

Op  all  our  land  or  water  fowl,  perhaps  none  afford  the 
sportsman  more  agreeable  amusement,  or  a  more  delicious 
repast,  than  the  little  bird  now  before  us.  This  amusement 
is  indeed  temporary,  lasting  only  two  or  three  hours  in  the 
day,  for  four  or  five  weeks  in  each  year;  but  as  it  occurs  in 
the  most  agreeable  and  temperate  of  our  seasons,  is  attend- 
ed with  little  or  no  fatigue  to  the  gunner,  and  is  frequently 
successful,  it  attracts  numerous  followers,  and  is  pursued,  in 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


such  places  as  the  birds  frequent,  with  great  eagerness  and 
enthusiasm. 

The  natural  history  of  the  Rail,  or  as  it  is  called  in  Vir- 
ginia, the  Sora,  and  in  South  Carolina  the  Coot,  is,  to  the 
most  of  our  sportsmen,  involved  in  profound  and  inexpli- 
cable mystery.  It  comes,  they  know  not  whence;  and 
goes,  they  know  not  whither.  No  one  can  detect  their  first 
moment  of  arrival;  yet  all  at  once  the  reedy  shores,  and 
grassy  marshes,  of  our  large  rivers  swarm  with  them,  thou- 
sands being  sometimes  found  within  the  space  of  a  few 
acres.  These,  when  they  do  venture  on  wing,  seem  to  fly 
so  feebly,  and  in  such  short  fluttering  flights  among  the 
reeds,  as  to  render  it  highly  improbable,  to  most  people, 
that  they  could  possibly  make  their  way  over  an  extensive 
tract  of  country.  Yet,  on  the  first  smart  frost  that  occurs, 
the  whole  suddenly  disappear,  as  if  they  had  never  been. 

To  account  for  these  extraordinary  phenomena,  it  has 
been  supposed,  by  some,  that  they  bury  themselves  in  the 
mud;  but  as  this  is  every  year  dug  into  by  ditchers  and 
people  employed  in  repairing  the  banks,  without  any  of 
those  sleepers  being  found,  where  but  a  few  weeks  before 
these  birds  were  innumerable,  this  theory  has  been  gene- 
rally abandoned.  And  here  their  researches  into  this  mys- 
terious matter  generally  end  in  the  common  exclamation  of 
"What  can  become  of  them!"  Some  profound  inquirers, 
however,  not  discouraged  v,-ith  these  difficulties,  have  pro- 
secuted their  researches  with  more  success;  and  one  of 
those,  living  a  few  years  ago  near  the  mouth  of  James 
river,  in  Virginia,  where  the  Rail  or  Sora  are  extremely 
numerous,  has  (as  I  was  informed  on  the  spot)  lately  disco- 
vered, that  they  change  \\\X.o  frogs!  having  himself  found 
in  his  meadows  an  animal  of  an  extraordinary  kind,  that 
appeared  to  be  neither  a  Sora  nor  a  frog;  but,  as  he  ex- 
pressed it,  "  something  between  the  two."  He  carried  it 
to  his  negroes,  and  afterwards  took  it  home,  where  it  lived 
three  days,  and  in  his  own,  and  his  negroes'  opinion,  it 
looked  like  nothing  in  this  world  but  a  real  Sora,  changing 
into  a  frog!  What  farther  confirms  this  grand  discovery,  is 
the  well  known  circumstance  of  the  frogs  ceasing  to  hollow 
as  soon  as  the  Sora  comes  in  the  Fall. 

This  sagacious  discoverer,  however,  like  many  others  re- 
nowned in  history,  has  found  but  a  few  supporters;  and, 
except  his  own  negroes,  has  not,  as  far  as  I  can  learn,  made 
a  single  convert  to  his  opinion.  Matters  being  so  circum- 
stanced, and  some  explanation  necessary,  I  shall  endeavour 
to  throw  a  little  more  light  on  the  subject,  by  a  simple  de- 
tail of  facts,  leaving  the  reader  to  form  his  own  theory  as  he 
pleases. 

The  Rail  or  Sora  belongs  to  a  genus  of  birds  of  which 
about  thirty  different  species  are  enumerated  by  naturalists; 
and  these  are  distributed  over  almost  every  region  of  the 


habitable  parts  of  the  earth.  The  general  character  of  these 
is  every  where  the  same.  They  run  swiftly,  fly  slowly, 
and  usually  with  the  legs  hanging  down;  become  extremely 
fat;  are  fond  of  concealment,  and,  wherever  it  is  practica- 
ble, prefer  running  to  flying.  Most  of  them  are  migratory, 
and  abound  during  the  summer  in  certain  countries,  the  in- 
habitants of  which  have  very  rarely  an  opportunity  of  see- 
ing them.  Of  this  last  the  Land  Rail  of  Britain  is  a  striking 
example.  This  bird,  which,  during  the  summer  months, 
may  be  heard  in  almost  every  grass  and  clover  field  in  the 
kingdom,  uttering  its  common  note,  crek,  crck,  from  sunset 
to  a  late  hour  in  the  night,  is  yet  unknown,  by  sight,  to 
more  than  nine-tenths  of  the  inhabitants.  "Its  well  known 
crj',"  says  Bewick,  "is  first  heard  as  soon  as  the  grass 
becomes  long  enough  to  shelter  it,  and  continues  till  the 
grass  is  cut;  but  the  bird  is  seldom  seen,  for  it  constantly 
skulks  among  the  thickest  part  of  the  herbage,  and  runs  so 
nimbly  through  it,  winding  and  doubling  in  every  direc- 
tion, that  it  is  difllcult  to  come  near  it;  when  hard  pushed 
by  the  dog,  it  sometimes  stops  short,  and  squats  down,  by 
which  means  its  too  eager  pursuer  overshoots  the  spot,  and 
loses  the  trace.  It  seldom  springs  but  when  driven  to  extre- 
mity, and  generally  flies  with  its  legs  hanging  down,  but 
never  to  a  great  distance;  as  soon  as  it  alights  it  runs  off, 
and  before  the  fowler  has  reached  the  spot,  the  bird  is  at  a 
considerable  distance."  The  Water  Crake,  or  Spotted 
Rail  of  the  same  country,  which  in  its  plumage  approaches 
nearer  to  our  Rail,  is  another  notable  example  of  the  same 
general  habit  of  the  genus.  "Its  common  abode,"  says 
the  same  writer,  "is  in  low  swampy  grounds,  in  which  are 
pools  or  streamlets  overgrown  with  willows,  reeds  and 
rushes,  where  it  lurks  and  hides  itself  with  great  circum- 
spection; it  is  wild,  solitary,  and  shy,  and  will  swim,  dive 
or  skulk  under  any  cover,  and  sometimes  suffer  itself  to  be 
knocked  on  the  head,  rather  than  rise  before  the  sportsman 
and  his  dog."  The  Water  Rail  of  the  same  country  is 
equally  noted  for  the  like  habits.  In  short,  the  whole 
genus  possess  this  strong  family  character  in  a  very  remark- 
able degree. 

These  three  species  are  well  known  to  migrate  into  Bri- 
tain earljr  in  spring,  and  to  leave  it  for  the  more  southern 
parts  of  Europe  in  autumn.  Yet  they  are  rarely  or  never 
seen  in  their  passage  to  or  from  the  countries  where  they 
are  regularly  found  at  different  seasons  of  the  year;  and 
this  for  the  very  same  reasons,  that  they  are  so  rarely  seen 
even  in  the  places  where  they  inhabit. 

It  is  not,  therefore,  at  all  surprising,  that  the  regular  mi- 
grations of  the  American  Rail  or  Sora  should,  in  like  man- 
ner, have  escaped  notice  in  a  country  like  this,  whose  popu- 
lation bears  so  small  a  proportion  to  its  extent;  and  where 
the  study  of  natural  history  is  so  little  attended  to.     But 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


that  these  migrations  do  actually  take  place,  from  north  to 
south,  and  vice  versa,  may  be  fairly  inferred  from  the  com- 
mon practice  of  thousands  of  other  species  of  birds  less 
solicitous  of  concealment,  and  also  from  the  following 
facts: 

On  the  twenty-second  day  of  February,  I  killed  two  of 
these  birds  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Savannah,  in  Georgia, 
where  they  have  never  been  observed  during  the  summer. 
On  the  second  of  the  May  following,  I  shot  another  in  a 
watery  thicket  below  Philadelphia,  between  the  rivers 
Schuylkill  and  Delaware,  in  what  is  usually  called  the 
Neck.  This  last  was  a  male,  in  full  plumage.  We  are  also 
informed,  that  they  arrive  at  Hudson's  Bay  early  in  June, 
and  again  leave  that  settlement  for  the  south  early  in  au- 
tumn. That  many  of  them  also  remain  here  to  breed  is 
proved  by  the  testimony  of  persons  of  credit  and  intelli- 
gence with  whom  I  have  conversed,  both  here  and  on 
James  river  in  Virginia,  who  have  seen  their  nests,  eggs 
and  young.  In  the  extensive  meadows  that  border  the 
Schuylkill  and  Delaware,  it  was  formerly  common,  before 
the  country  was  so  thickly  settled  there,  to  find  young  Rail 
in  the  first  mowing  time,  among  the  grass.  ]Mr.  James 
Bartram,  brother  to  the  botanist,  a  venerable  and  active 
man  of  eighty-three,  and  well  acquainted  with  this  bird, 
says,  that  he  has  often  seen  and  caught  young  Rail  in  his 
own  meadows  in  the  month  of  June;  he  has  also  seen  their 
nest,  which  he  says  is  usually  in  a  tussock  of  grass,  is  formed 
of  a  little  dry  grass,  and  has  four  or  five  eggs  of  a  dirty 
whitish  colour,  with  brown  or  blackish  spots;  the  young 
run  off  as  soon  as  they  break  the  shell,  are  then  quite  black, 
and  run  about  among  the  grass  like  mice.  The  old  ones  he 
has  very  rarely  observed  at  that  time,  but  the  young  often. 
Almost  every  old  settler  along  these  meadows,  with  whom 
I  have  conversed,  has  occasionally  seen  young  Rail  in  mow- 
ing time;  and  all  agree  in  describing  them  as  covered  with 
blackish  down.  There  can,  therefore,  be  no  reasonable 
doubt  as  to  the  residence  of  many  of  these  birds  both  here 
and  to  the  northward  during  the  summer.  That  there  can 
be  as  little  doubt  relative  to  their  winter  retreat,  will  appear 
more  particularly  towards  the  sequel  of  the  present  account. 
During  their  residence  here,  in  summer,  their  manners 
exactly  correspond  with  those  of  the  Water  Crake  of  Bri- 
tain already  quoted;  so  that,  though  actually  a  different  spe- 
cies, their  particular  habits,  common  places  of  resort,  and 
eagerness  for  concealment,  are  as  nearly  the  same  as  the 
nature  of  the  climates  will  admit. 

Early  in  August,  when  the  reeds  along  the  shores  of  the 
Delaware  have  attained  their  full  growth,  the  Rail  resort  to 
them  in  great  numbers,  to  feed  on  the  seeds  of  this  plant, 
of  which  they,  as  well  as  the  Rice-birds,  and  several  others, 
are  immoderately  fond.     These  reeds,  which  appear  to  be 


the  Zizania panicula  effusa  ofLinnasus,  and  ihe  Zizania 
clavulosa  of  Wildenow,  grow  up  from  the  soft  muddy 
shores  of  the  tide  water,  which  are  alternately  dry,  and 
covered  with  four  or  five  feet  of  water.  They  rise  with  an 
erect,  tapering  stem,  to  the  height  of  eight  or  ten  feet,  being 
nearly  as  thick  below  as  a  man's  wrist,  and  cover  tracts  along 
the  river,  of  many  acres.  The  cattle  feed  on  their  long  green 
leaves  with  avidity,  and  wade  in  after  them,  as  far  as  they 
dare  safely  venture.  They  grow  up  so  close  together  that, 
except  at  or  near  high  water,  a  boat  can  with  difficulty  make 
its  way  through  among  them.  The  seeds  are  produced  at 
the  top  of  the  plant,  the  blossoms  or  male  parts  occupying 
the  lower  branches  of  the  pannicle,  and  the  seeds  the  higher. 
These  seeds  are  nearly  as  long  as  a  common  sized  pin, 
somewhat  more  slender,  white,  sweet  to  the  taste,  and  very 
nutritive,  as  appears  by  their  effects  on  the  various  birds 
that,  at  this  season,  feed  on  them. 

When  the  reeds  are  in  this  state,  and  even  while  in 
blossom,  the  Rail  are  found  to  have  taken  possession  of 
them  in  great  numbers.  These  are  generally  nunr.  rous  in 
proportion  to  the  full  and  promising  crop  of  the  former. 
As  you  walk  along  the  embankment  of  the  river,  at  this 
season,  you  hear  them  squeaking  in  every  direction,  like 
young  puppies;  if  a  stone  be  thrown  among  the  reeds,  there 
is  a  general  outer}-,  and  a  reiterated  kuk  kiik  kuk,  some- 
thing like  that  of  a  guinea-fowl.  Any  sudden  noise,  or  the 
discharge  of  a  gun,  produces  the  same  effect.  In  the  mean- 
time, none  are  to  be  seen,  unless  it  be  at  or  near  high- 
water;  for  when  the  tide  is  low,  they  universally  secrete 
themselves  among  the  interstices  of  the  reeds,  and  you  may 
walk  past,  and  even  over  them,  where  there  are  hundreds, 
without  seeing  a  single  individual.  On  their  first  arrival 
they  are  generally  lean,  and  unfit  for  the  table;  but  as  the 
reeds  ripen,  they  rapidly  fatten,  and  from  the  twentieth  of 
September  to  the  middle  of  October,  are  excellent,  and 
eagerly  sought  after.  The  usual  method  of  shooting  them, 
in  this  quarter  of  the  country,  is  as  follows:  The  sports- 
man furnishes  himself  with  a  light  batteau,  and  a  stout  ex- 
perienced boatman,  with  a  pole  twelve  or  fifteen  feet  long, 
thickened  at  the  lower  end,  to  prevent  it  from  sinking  too 
deep  into  the  mud.  About  two  hours  or  so  before  high- 
water,  they  enter  the  reeds,  and  each  takes  his  post,  the 
sportsman  standing  in  the  bow  ready  for  action,  the  boat- 
man on  the  stern  seat,  pushing  her  steadily  through  the 
reeds.  The  Rail  generally  spring  singly,  as  the  boat  ad- 
vances, and  at  a  short  distance  a-head,  are  instantly  shot 
down,  while  the  boatman,  keeping  his  eye  on  the  spot 
where  the  bird  fell,  directs  the  boat  forward,  and  picks  it 
up  as  the  gunner  is  loading.  It  is  also  the  boatman's  busi- 
ness to  keep  a  sharp  look-out,  and  give  the  word  mark, 
when  a  Rail  springs  on  either  side,  without  being  observed 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


209 


by  the  sportsman,  and  to  note  the  exact  spot  where  it  falls, 
until  he  has  picked  it  up;  for  this  once  lost  sight  of,  owing 
to  the  sameness  in  the  appearance  of  the  reeds,  is  seldom 
found  again.  In  this  manner  the  boat  moves  steadily 
through,  and  over  the  reeds,  the  birds  flushing  and  falling, 
the  gunner  loading  and  firing,  while  the  boatman  is  push- 
ino-  and  picking  up.  The  sport  continues  till  an  hour  or 
two  after  high-water,  when  the  shallowness  of  the  water, 
and  the  strength  and  weight  of  the  floating  reeds,  as  also 
the  backwardness  of  the  game  to  spring  as  the  tide  decreases, 
obliges  them  to  return.  Several  boats  are  sometimes  within 
a  short  distance  of  each  other,  and  a  perpetual  cracking  of 
musquetry  prevails  along  the  whole  reedy  shores  of  the 
river.  In  these  excursions  it  is  not  uncommon  for  an  active 
and  expert  marksman  to  kill  ten  or  twelve  dozens  in  a  tide. 
They  are  usually  shot  singly,  though  I  have  known  five 
killed  at  one  discharge  of  a  double-barrelled  piece.  These 
instances,  however,  are  rare. 

The  flight  of  these  birds  among  the  reeds  is  usually  low; 
and,  shelter  being  abundant,  is  rarely  extended  to  more 
than  fifty  or  one  hundred  yards.  When  winged,  and  unin- 
jured in  their  legs,  they  swim  and  dive  with  great  rapidity, 
and  are  seldom  seen  to  rise  again.  I  have  several  times,  on 
such  occasions,  discovered  them  clinging  with  their  feet  to 
the  reeds  under  the  water,  and  at  other  times  skulking  under 
the  floating  reeds,  with  their  bill  just  above  the  surface. 
Sometimes,  when  wounded,  they  dive,  and  rising  under 
the  gunwale  of  the  boat,  secrete  themselves  there,  moving 
round  as  the  boat  moves,  until  they  have  an  opportunity  of 
escaping  unnoticed.  They  are  feeble  and  delicate  in  every 
thing  but  the  legs,  which  seem  to  possess  great  vigour  and 
energy;  and  their  bodies  being  so  remarkably  thin,  or  com- 
pressed, as  to  be  less  than  an  inch  and  a  quarter  through 
transversely,  they  are  enabled  to  pass  between  the  reeds 
like  rats.  When  seen,  they  are  almost  constantly  jetting 
up  the  tail.  Yet,  though  their  flight  among  the  reeds  seems 
feeble  and  fluttering,  every  sportsman,  who  is  acquainted 
with  them  here,  must  have  seen  them  occasionally  rising 
to  a  considerable  height,  stretching  out  their  legs  behind 
them,  and  flying  rapidly  across  the  river,  where  it  is  more 
than  a  mile  in  width. 

Such  is  the  mode  of  Rail-shooting  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  Philadelphia.  In  Virginia,  particularly  along  the  shores 
of  James  river,  within  the  tide  water,  where  the  Rail,  or 
Sora,  are  in  prodigious  numbers,  they  are  also  shot  on  the 
wing,  but  more  usually  taken  at  night  in  the  following 
manner: — A  kind  of  iron  grate  is  fixed  on  the  top  of  a  stout 
pole,  which  is  placed  like  a  mast,  in  a  light  canoe,  and 
filled  with  fire.  The  darker  the  night,  the  more  successful 
is  the  sport.  The  person  who  manages  the  canoe  is  pro- 
vided with  a  light  paddle,  ten  or  twelve  feet  in  length;  and 
3  G 


about  an  hour  before  high-water  proceeds  through  among 
the  reeds,  which  lie  broken  and  floating  on  the  surface. 
The  whole  space,  for  a  considerable  way  round  the  canoe, 
is  completely  enlightened;  the  birds  stare  with  astonish- 
ment, and  as  they  appear,  are  knocked  on  the  head  with 
the  paddle,  and  thrown  into  the  canoe.  In  this  manner 
from  twenty  to  eighty  dozens  have  been  killed  by  three 
negroes,  in  the  short  space  of  three  hours. 

At  the  same  season,  or  a  little  earlier,  they  are  very  nu- 
merous in  the  lagoons  near  Detroit,  on  our  northern  fron- 
tiers, where  another  species  of  reeds  (of  which  they  are 
equally  fond)  grows  in  shallows,  in  great  abundance.  Gen- 
tlemen who  have  shot  them  there,  and  on  whose  judgment 
I  can  rely,  assure  me,  that  they  diflferin  nothing  from  those 
they  have  usually  killed  on  the  shores  of  the  Delaware  and 
Schuylkill;  they  are  equally  fat,  and  exquisite  eating.  On 
the  sea  coast  of  New  Jersey,  where  these  reeds  are  not  to 
be  found,  this  bird  is  altogether  unknown;  though  along 
the  marshes  of  Maurice  river,  and  other  tributarjr  streams 
of  the  Delaware,  and  wherever  the  reeds  abound,  the  Rail 
are  sure  to  be  found  also.  Most  of  them  leave  Pennsylva- 
nia before  the  end  of  October,  and  the  southern  States  earl}' 
in  November;  though  numbers  linger  in  the  warm  southern 
marshes  the  whole  winter.  A  very  worthy  gentleman, 
Mr.  Harrison,  who  lives  in  Kittiwan,  near  a  creek  of  that 
name,  on  the  borders  of  James  river,  informed  me,  that  in 
burning  his  meadows  early  in  March,  they  generally  raise 
and  destroy  several  of  these  birds.  That  the  great  body  of 
these  Rail  winter  in  countries  beyond  the  United  States,  is 
rendered  highly  probable  from  their  being  so  frequently 
met  with  at  sea,  between  our  shores  and  the  West  India 
islands.  A  captain  Douglass  informed  me,  that  on  his  voy- 
age from  St.  Domingo  to  Philadelphia,  and  more  than  a 
hundred  miles  from  the  capes  of  the  Delaware,  one  night 
the  man  at  the  helm  was  alarmed  by  a  sudden  crash  on 
deck,  that  broke  the  glass  in  the  binnacle,  and  put  out  the 
light.  On  examining  into  the  cause,  three  Rail  were  found 
on  deck,  two  of  which  were  killed  on  the  spot,  and  the 
other  died  soon  after.  The  late  bishop  Madison,  president 
of  William  and  Mary  college,  Virginia,  assured  me,  that  a 
Mr.  Skipwith,  for  some  time  our  consul  in  Europe,  in  his 
return  to  the  United  States,  when  upwards  of  three  hun- 
dred miles  from  the  capes  of  the  Chesapeake,  several  Rail 
or  Soras,  I  think  five  or  six,  came  on  board,  and  were 
caught  by  the  people.  Mr.  Skipwith  being  well  acquainted 
with  the  bird,  assured  him  that  they  were  the  very  same 
with  those  usually  killed  on  James  river.  I  have  received 
like  assurances  from  several  other  gentlemen,  and  captains 
of  vessels,  who  have  met  with  these  birds  between  the  main 
land  and  the  islands,  so  as  to  leave  no  doubt  on  my  mind  of 
the  fact.     For,  why  should  it  be  considered  incredible  that 


210 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


a  bird  which  can  both  swim  and  dive  well,  and  at  pleasure 
fly  with  great  rapidity,  as  I  have  myself  frequently  wit- 
nessed, should  be  incapable  of  migrating,  like  so  many 
others,  over  extensive  tracts  of  land  or  sea?  Inhabiting,  as 
they  do,  the  remote  regions  of  Hudson's  Bay,  where  it  is 
impossible  they  could  subsist  during  the  rigors  of  their 
winter,  they  must  either  emigrate  thence  or  perish;  and  as 
the  same  places  in  Pennsylvania,  which  abound  with  them 
in  October,  are  often  laid  under  ice  and  snow  during  the 
winter,  it  is  as  impossible  that  they  could  exist  here  in  -that 
inclement  season;  Heaven  has  therefore  given  them,  in 
common  with  many  others,  certain  prescience  of  these  cir- 
cumstances; and  judgment,  as  well  as  sti'englh  of  flight,  suf- 
ficient to  seek  more  genial  climates,  abounding  with  their 
suitable  food. 

The  Rail  is  nine  inches  long,  and  fourteen  inches  in 
extent;  bill  yellow,  blackish  towards  the  point;  lores,  front, 
crown,  chin,  and  stripe  down  the  throat,  black;  line  over 
the  eye,  cheeks  and  breast,  fine  light  ash;  sides  of  the 
crown,  neck,  and  upper  parts  generally,  olive  brown, 
streaked  with  black,  and  also  with  long  lines  of  pure  white, 
the  feathers  being  centred  with  black,  on  a  brown  olive 
ground,  and  edged  with  white;  these  touches  of  wliite  are 
shorter  near  the  shoulder  of  the  wing,  lengthening  as  they 
descend ;  wing  plain  olive  brown  ;  tertials  streaked  with 
black  and  long  lines  of  white;  tail  pointed,  dusky  olive 
brown,  centered  with  black,  the  four  middle  feathers  bor- 
dered for  half  their  length  with  lines  of  white;  lower  part 
of  the  breast  marked  with  semicircular  lines  of  white,  on  a 
light  ash  ground;  belly  white;  sides  under  the  wings  deep 
olive,  barred  with  black,  white  and  reddish  buff;  vent 
brownish  buff;  legs,  feet  and  naked  part  of  the  thighs,  yel- 
lowish green;  exterior  edge  of  the  wing  white;  eyes  red- 
dish hazel. 

The  females  and  young  of  the  first  season,  have  the  throat 
white,  tlie  breast  pale  blown,  and  little  or  no  black  on  the 
head.  The  males  may  always  be  distinguished  by  their 
ashy  blue  breasts,  and  black  throats. 

During  the  greater  part  of  the  months  of  September  and 
October,  the  market  of  Philadelphia  is  abundantly  supplied 
with  Rail,  which  are  sold  from  half  a  dollar  to  a  dollar  a 
dozen.  Soon  after  the  twentieth  of  October,  at  which  time 
our  first  smart  frosts  generally  take  place,  these  birds  move 
off  to  the  south.  In  Virginia  they  usually  remain  until  the 
first  week  in  November. 

Since  the  above  was  written,  I  have  received  from  Mr. 
George  Ord,  of  Philadelphia,  some  curious  particulars  rela- 
tive to  this  bird,  which,  as  they  are  new,  and  come  from  a 
gentleman  of  respectability,  are  worthy  of  being  recorded, 
and  merit  further  investigation. 

"My  personal  experience,"  says  Mr.  Ord,  "has  made 


me  acquainted  with  a  fact  in  the  history  of  the  Rail,  which 
perhaps  is  not  generally  known;  and  I  shall,  as  briefly  as 
possible,  communicate  it  to  you.  Some  time  in  the  autumn 
of  the  year  1S09,  as  I  was  walking  in  a  yard,  after  a  severe 
shower  of  rain,  I  perceived  the  feet  of  a  bird  projecting 
from  a  spout.  I  pulled  it  out,  and  discovered  it  to  be  a 
Rail,  very  vigorous,  and  in  perfect  health.  The  bird  was 
placed  in  a  small  room,  on  a  gin-case;  and  I  was  amusing 
myself  with  it,  when,  in  the  act  of  pointing  my  finger  at  it, 
it  suddenly  sprang  forward,  apparently  much  irritated,  fell 
to  the  floor,  and  stretching  out  its  feet,  and  bending  its 
neck,  until  the  head  nearly  touched  the  back,  became  to  all 
appearance  lifeless.  Thinking  the  fall  had  killed  the  bird, 
I  took  it  up,  and  began  to  lament  my  rashness  in  provoking 
it.  In  a  few  minutes  it  again  breathed;  and  it  was  some 
time  before  it  perfectly  recovered  from  the  fit,  into  which, 
it  now  appeared  evident,  it  had  fallen.  I  placed  the  Rail 
in  a  room,  wherein  Canary  birds  were  confined;  and  re- 
solved that,  on  the  succeeding  day,  I  would  endeavour  to 
discover  whether  or  not  the  passion  of  anger  had  produced 
the  fit.  I  entered  the  room  at  the  appointed  time,  and 
approached  the  bird,  which  had  retired,  on  beholding  me, 
in  a  sullen  humour,  to  a  corner.  On  pointing  my  finger  at 
it,  its  feathers  were  immediately  ruffled;  and  in  an  instant 
it  sprang  forward,  as  in  the  first  instance,  and  fell  into  a 
similar  fit.  The  following  day  the  experiment  was  repeat- 
ed, with  the  like  effect.  In  the  autumn  of  181 1,  as  I  was 
shooting  amongst  the  reeds,  I  perceived  a  Rail  rise  but  a 
few  feet  before  my  batteau.  The  bird  had  risen  about  a 
yard  when  it  became  entangled  in  the  tops  of  a  small  bunch 
of  reeds,  and  immediately  fell.  Its  feet  and  neck  were 
extended,  as  in  the  instances  above  mentioned;  and  before 
it  had  time  to  recover,  I  killed  it.  Some  few  days  after- 
wards, as  a  friend  and  I  were  shooting  in  the  same  place, 
he  killed  a  Rail,  and,  as  we  approached  the  spot  to  pick  it 
up,  another  was  perceived,  not  a  foot  off,  in  a  fit.  I  took 
up  the  bird,  and  placed  it  in  the  crown  of  my  hat.  In  a 
few  moments  it  revived,  and  was  as  vigorous  as  ever. 
These  facts  go  to  prove,  that  the  Rail  is  subject  to  gusts  of 
passion,  which  operate  to  so  violent  a  degree  as  to  produce 
a  disease,  similar  in  its  effects  so  epileps}'.  I  leave  the  ex- 
plication of  the  phenomenon  to  those  pathologists  who  are 
competent  and  willing  to  investigate  it.  It  may  be  worthy 
of  remark,  that  the  birds  affected  as  described,  were  all 
females  of  the  Ralius  Carolinus,  or  Common  Rail. 

"The  Rail,  though  generally  reputed  a  simple  bird,  will 
sometimes  manifest  symptoms  of  considerable  intelligence. 
To  those  acquainted  with  Rail  shooting,  it  is  hardly  neces- 
sary to  mention,  that  the  tide,  in  its  flux,  is  considered  an 
almost  indispensable  auxiliary;  for,  when  the  water  is  off 
the  marsh,  the  lubricity  of  the  mud,  the  height  and  com- 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


211 


pactness  of  the  reed,  and  tlie  swiftness  of  foot  of  the  game, 
tend  to  weary  the  sportsman,  and  tend  to  frustrate  his  en- 
deavours. Even  should  he  succeed  in  a  tolerable  degree, 
the  reward  is  not  commensurate  to  the  labour.  I  have 
entered  the  marsh  in  a  batteau,  at  a  common  tide,  and  in  a 
well  known  haunt  have  beheld  but  few  birds.  The  next 
better  tide,  on  resorting  to  the  same  spot,  I  have  perceived 
abundance  of  game.  The  fact  is,  the  Rail  dive,  and  con- 
ceal themselves  beneath  the  fallen  reed,  merely  projecting 
their  heads  above  the  surface  of  the  water  for  air,  and  re- 
main in  that  situation  until  the  sportsman  has  passed  them; 
and  it  is  well  known,  that  it  is  a  common  practice  with 
wounded  Rail  to  dive  to  the  bottom,  and,  holding  upon 
some  vegetable  substance,  support  themselves  in  that  situa- 
tion  until    exhausted.      During  such    times,   the   bird,   in 


escaping  from  one  enemj-,  has  often  to  encounter  another 
not  less  formidable.  Eels  and  cat-fish  swarm  in  every 
direction,  prowling  for  prey;  and  it  is  ten  to  one  if  a 
wounded  Rail  escapes  them.  I  myself  have  beheld  a  large 
eel  make  off  with  a  bird  that  I  had  shot,  before  I  had  time 
to  pick  it  up;  and  one  of  my  boys,  in  bobbing  for  eels, 
caught  one  with  a  whole  Rail  in  its  belly. 

"I  have  heard  it  observed,  that  on  the  increase  of  the 
moon,  the  Rail  improves  in  fatness,  and  decreases  in  a  con- 
siderable degree  with  that  planet.  Sometimes  I  have  con- 
ceited that  the  remark  was  just.  If  it  be  a  fact,  I  think 
it  may  be  explained  on  the  supposition,  that  the  bird  is 
enabled  to  feed  at  night,  as  well  as  by  day,  while  it  has  the 
benefit  of  the  moon,  and  with  less  interruption  than  at  other 
periods." 


UNITED    BOWMEN    OF    PHILADELPHIA. 

Long  did  he  live  the  honour  of  the  bow, 
And  his  long  life  to  that  alone  did  owe. 

Epitaph  on  the  tomb  of  Sir  William   Wood. 


Who  has  not  heard  of  old  Izaak  Walton?  far  and  near,  our  youlliful   recollections  ever  to  be   effaced,    while   wc 

to  old  and  young  his  name  is  familiar;  his  admirable  skill  have  limb  or  muscle  to  follow  the  mazes  of  the  brook,  or, 

and  instructions,  so  wittily  told,  in  the  quaint  language  of  when  they  have  fail'd,  a  tongue  to  tell  of  by  gone  pastimes, 

the  times  in  which  he  wrote,  are  too  deeply  impressed  on  Roger  Ascham  is  not,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  so  well  known: 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


his,  like  Izaak's  to  the  angler,  is  the  text  hook  of  the 
Archer,  and  not  less  worthy  of  our  grateful  recollection. 
To  become  a  perfect  Archer  it  is  only  necessary  to  read  his 
Toxophilus,  and  practice  carefully  his  precepts.  In  the 
course  of  that  practice  you  will  not  fail  to  fall  into  some, 
if  not  all,  of  those  faults  so  "  wittilye"  described  by  him, 
thus:  "  The  discomodityes  which  ill  custom  hath  graffed 
in  Archers,  some  shooteth  his  head  foreward,  as  though  he 
would  byte  the  marke;  another  stareth  with  his  eyes,  as 
though  they  should  flye  out;  another  winketh  with  one 
eye  and  looketh  with  the  other;  some  maketh  a  face  with 
wrythinge  their  mouth;  another  byteth  his  lips,  another 
holdeth  his  neck  awrye.  In  drawing,  one  will  stand  point- 
ing his  shafte  at  the  mark  a  good  while,  and  by  and  by  he 
will  give  him  a  whippe,  and  away  or  a  man  witte:  another 
draweth  softly  to  the  middle,  and  by  and  by  it  is  gone,  you 
cannot  know  ho  we:  another  draweth  his  shafte  low  at  the 
breast,  as  though  he  would  shoot  at  a  roving  mark,  and 
by  and  by,  he  lifteth  his  arm  to  the  height:  one  maketh  a 
wrynchinge  in  his  back,  as  though  a  man  pinched  him  be- 
hind: another  coureth  down,  and  layeth  out  his  rumpe,  as 
though  he  would  shoot  at  crowes;  some  draw  too  farre, 
some  too  shorte,  some  too  quicklye,  some  too  slowlye, 
some  hold  over  longe,  some  let  go  over  soone;  and  after- 
wards when  the  shafte  is  gone,  men  have  many  faultes, 
which  evil  custome  has  brought  them  to,  and  specially e  in 
cryinge  after  the  shafte,  and  speakinge  wordes  scarce 
honest  for  such  an  honest  pastime,  and  besydes  those  which 
must  needes  have  theyr  tongue  thus  walkinge,  other  men 
use  other  faultes.  Some  will  give  two  or  three  strides  for- 
warde,  daunsinge  and  hoppinge  after  his  shafte,  as  long  as 
it  flyeth  as  though  he  were  a  madde  man,  some  which  feare 
to  be  too  far  gone,  run  backward,  as  it  were  to  pull  his 
shafte  backe,  another  forward  when  he  feareth  to  be  shorte 
heavingc  after  his  armes,  as  though  he  woulde  helpe  his 
shafte  to  flye,  another  v^'rythes,  or  runneth  asyde,  to  pull 
in  his  shafte  straighte,  one  lifteth  up  his  heele,  and  so  hold- 
eth his  foote  still  as  long  as  his  shafte  flyeth.  And  many 
other  faultes  there  be,  which  now  come  not  to  my  remem- 
brance. Thus,  as  you  have  hearde,  many  Archers  with 
marringe  theyr  face  and  countenance,  with  other  parts  of 
theyr  bodye,  as  it  were  men  that  should  daunce  antiques, 
be  farre  from  the  comely  part  in  shootynge,  which  he  that 
woulde  be  excellent  must  looke  for.  Of  these  faultes,  I 
have  very  manye  myselfe,  but  I  talke  not  of  my  shoot- 
ynge. Now  ymagen  an  Archer  that  is  cleane  without  all 
these  faultes,  and  I  am  sure  every  man  would  be  delighted 
to  see  him  shoote." 

I  have  ran  on  with  this  quotation  longer  than  was  my 
intention,  but  it  is  too  faithful  a  picture  to  be  curtailed  of 
any  of  its  fair  proportions.     My  object  is  to  give  you  a 


sketch  of  the  only  association  that  we  know  of,  on  this  side 
of  the  big  ivater,  for  the  practice  of  this  ancient  and  honour- 
able pastime;  the  wood  craft  of  the  merry  Archers,  cele- 
brated alike,  in  the  ballad  and  romance. 

Our  association  was  commenced  in  the  fall  of  1S28,  by  a 
few  gentlemen,  whose  sole  knowledge  was  the  rccollectioa 
of  the  hoop  bow,  and  shingle  arrows  of  boyhood,  and  the 
clumsy  feats  of  the  half  civilized  Indians,  who  are  occa- 
sionally seen  shooting  for  pennies  on  the  pavements  of  our 
cities,  with  miserable  tools  and  worse  skill.  Our  want  of 
knowledge  led  us  into  many  errors,  and  gave  us  much 
trouble;  we  blundered  on  taking  hints  from  examinations 
of  the  different  instruments  of  warfare  contained  in  the 
cabinets  of  our  museums,  and  from  every  source  that  could 
furnish  information.  Our  first  practice  meeting  was  ludic- 
rous; let  me  describe  it,  if  I  can.  At  the  head  of  the  file  to 
which  we  were  ranged,  stood  the  long  S!!§  with  a  bow  about 
IS  inches  long,  from  the  N.  W.  coast  of  America,  and  a 
Canton  arrow  three  feet  two  inches  long,  with  a  whistling 
head.  Next  to  him,  and  scarcely  reaching  to  his  elbow, 
was  the  neat,  small  figure  of  our  worthy  friend,  the  artist, 
with  a  seven  foot  Malay  bow,  held  in  a  horizontal  position, 
simply  because  he  could  not  hold  it  in  any  other,  while  he 
stood  on  the  ground.  Then  came  the  3  with  an  arrow, 
long  after  known  in  the  club  as  the  broom  stick,  being 
made  of  a  defunct  brush  handle,  shaved  down  a  little.  My 
turn  comes  next,  a  real  Sandwich  Islander,  the  crack  bow 
of  the  club  at  that  time,  which  I  managed  most  grotesquely, 
holding  it  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees  to  the  horizon. 
The  arrow  was  all  the  way  from  the  Missouri,  and  now 
reposes  ingloriously  in  the  top  of  a  button  wood,  where  it 
went  of  its  own  accord;  I  give  you  my  word  that  I  aimed 
it  at  a  pasteboard  target,  some  sixty  feet  ofi",  on  the  same 
level  as  ourselves.  With  such  an  equipment,  and  there  is 
not  much  exaggeration  in  the  description,  it  is  very  remark- 
able that  we  should  have  persevered,  but  the  zeal  of  the 
members,  finally  conquered  every  difficulty.  You  must 
not  suppose,  for  a  moment,  that  we  continued  these  puerile 
proceedings,  any  longer  than  we  could  help ;  at  a  very 
early  period  of  the  association,  an  order  had  been  despatch- 
ed to  Mr.  Thomas  Waring,  of  London,  the  most  celebrated 
modern  Bowyer,  for  an  equipment  of  the  best  quality,  and 
full  information  on  the  subject,  all  of  which  was  received 
in  due  time;  and  consisted  of  a  lemon  wood  bow,  and  spare 
strings,  a  dozen  arrows  contained  in  a  quiver,  a  belt,  pouch, 
grease  box,  and  tassel,  a  splendid  pair  of  targets,  and  finally, 
Waring's  "  Treatise  on  Archery,"  accompanied  by  a.  bill 
as  long  as  a  woodcock's,  of  heavy  charges,  no  inconside- 
rable item  of  which  was  Uncle  Sam's  thirty-three  and  a 
third  per  cent,  duties.  These  articles  were  received  on  the 
28th  of  March,  1829,  from  which  time  may  be  dated  the 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


213 


efficient  existence  of  our  club:  and  we  have  gone  on  re- 
gularly increasing  in  skill  until  the  present  time. 

The  United  Bowmen,  associated  for  the  practice  of 
Archer}',  was  instituted  on  the  23d  of  September,  1828, 
and  consists  of  members  proper,  honorary,  and  associate. 
The  first  are  those  who  practice;  the  second  those  who  re- 
side at  a  distance,  but  take  interest  in  the  subject;  and  the 
last  those  who  may  have  been  members  of  the  club;  govern- 
ed by  a  constitution,  administered  by  a  President,  Secre- 
tary, and  Treasurer.  The  initiation  fee  is  five  dollars,  and 
a  monthly  contribution  of  fifty  cents  is  required  of  each 
member,  and  defrays  the  expense  of  prizes,  and  the  neces- 
sary fixtures.  The  organization  of  the  Society  is  nearly 
similar  to  that  of  all  others;  it  is  not,  therefore,  proper  to 
occupy  your  useful  space  with  details  that  are  not  peculiarly 
applicable  to  our  subject. 

By  the  regulations,  practice  meetings  are  held  weekly, 
at  such  time,  place,  and  distance,  as  may  be  specified  at  the 
stated  monthly  meetings  of  the  club. 

The  members  serve  in  rotation  as  Captain  of  the  Target 
at  each  meeting  of  practice;  their  duties  are  to  decide  on  all 
hits,  and  to  register  the  same,  &c. :  it  is  not  necessary  to 
give  you  a  detail,  for  with  all  forethought,  something  would 
be  left  out,  and  for  contingencies,  there  can  be  provision; 
let  it  sufiSce,  that  his  authority  is  absolute;  from  his  decision 
there  is  no  appeal. 

The  targets  consist  of  five  concentric  circles,  the  inner 
one  eight  inches  in  diameter,  is  gilded;  the  second  eight 
inches  larger  in  diameter,  and  painted  red;  the  third  in- 
creased eight  inches,  and  painted  white;  the  fourth  in- 
creased eight  inches,  and  painted  black;  and  the  fifth  eight 
inches  larger  than  the  last,  and  painted  light  blue. 

The  value  of  the  hits  in  the  different  colours  is  as  fol- 
lows: gold,  nine;  red,  seven;  white,  five;  black,  three; 
and  light  blue,  one. 

On  the  second  Wednesday  of  September  of  each  year, 
two  prizes  are  shot  for;  the  first  and  most  valuable  is 
awarded  to  the  Archer  whose  hits  value  highest,  according 
to  the  foregoing  arrangement;  the  secondary  to  him  who 
places  an  arrow  nearest  to  the  centre,  with  this  proviso, 
that  he  who  gains  the  first,  cannot  take  the  second.  The 
first,  it  is  evident,  will  become  the  property  of  the  best 
Archer  of  the  day ;  the  secondary  may,  of  course,  fall  to 
the  share  of  some  lucky  wight,  whose  an-ow  may  be  wafted 
out  of  its  legitimate  direction  by  some  passing  breeze,  or, 
as  has  been  the  case,  may  have  struck  the  limb  of  an  apple 
tree,  some  fifteen  feet  out  of  the  direction  of  the  target,  and 
be  carried  by  the  glance  direct  to  the  centre  of  the  gold. 
As  this  prize  cannot  be  taken  by  the  best  Archer,  ten  to 
one  it  becomes  the  property  of  the  worst.  This  is  given 
as  a  "big  word"  of  encouragement  to  beginners. 
3  H 


The  captain  of  the  target  carries  a  card  with  ruled  lines, 
the  heads  of  the  columns  of  which  correspond  with  the 
colours  of  the  concentric  circles,  and  the  marginal  column 
for  the  names  or  signs  of  the  members;  the  hits  are  pierced 
in  their  proper  places  in  these  cards  by  a  pin,  the  number 
and  value  are  summed  up  at  the  close  of  the  shooting,  and 
from  the  card  are  transferred  to  the  record  book  of  the 
club  by  the  secretary.  This  book  consists  of  engraved 
pages  of  the  circles  of  the  target,  and  the  signs  of  the  mem- 
bers; their  presence  is  marked  on  the  record  of  the  appro- 
priate date,  each  members'  hits  on  the  proper  circle,  their 
number  of  hits  and  their  value,  the  captain  of  the  target  for 
that  day,  and,  finally,  remarks  on  the  weather,  &c. 

It  is  the  duty  of  the  secretary  to  keep  a  record  of  articles 
that  appear  in  the  public  prints,  magazines,  &c.  on  Arche- 
ry; he  has  in  charge,  a  collection  of  prints  on  this  subject, 
the  bows  and  arrows  of  the  different  nations  of  the  world. 
To  this  portion  of  the  property  of  the  club,  we  have  no 
delicacy  in  asking  donations,  as  we  need  not  hesitate  to 
avow  our  conviction,  that  articles  of  this  kind,  have  much 
more  interest  collectively,  and  as  the  property  of  an  asso- 
ciation, than  they  can  possibly  have  while  detached,  or 
hidden  in  the  garrets  of  individuals,  to  which  place  they 
are  usually  consigned,  after  the  first  keen  edge  of  curiosity 
is  worn  off. 

To  each  member  of  the  association  is  assigned  a  mark  as 
his  descriptive  badge,  as  follows: 

It  is  placed  on  his  bow  and  arrows,  and  usually  on  all  the 
articles  of  his  equipment;  it  designates  his  hits  on  the  card, 
and  in  the  record  book,  and  is  used  whenever  individuality 
is  to  be  expressed;  its  object  is  convenience  in  saving  the 
necessity  of  writing  names,  and  the  uncertainty  of  initials. 

For  the  sake,  also,  of  easy  distinction,  especially  in  the 
case  of  arrows,  it  is  usual  for  every  member  to  select  a 
colour,  and  to  adhere  to  its  use  in  painting  his  arrows  or 
other  articles;  one  individual  has  selected  red,  another 
blue,  a  third  green,  a  fourth  yellow,  and  so  on. 

No  uniform  has  been  adopted  by  the  club,  nor  is  it  essen- 
tial; for  the  sake  of  convenience,  a  light  jacket  is  worn, 
which,  for  the  same  reason,  with  the  addition  of  neatness, 
has  been  made  of  a  uniform  colour  and  fashion. 

The  object  of  this  club  being  expressly  that  of  healthful 
exercise  and  manly  recreation  alone,  one  of  its  understood, 
though  most  decided  regulations  is,  that  nothing  but  water 
can  be  drank  at  its  meetings,  and  that  nothing  foreign  to 
the  practice  of  Archery  can  be  recognised,  as  an  object  of 
their  association. 

It  is  no  part  of  my  intention  to  give  instructions  in 
Archery;  the  space  that  could  be  allowed  in  a  work  like 


214 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


the  Cabinet,  would  be  entirely  insufficient,  neither  would  it 
be  desirable,  as  the  club  have  already,  under  the  direction 
of  a  committee  appointed  for  the  purpose,  drawn  up  full 
directions  on  the  subject,  which  are  published  in  a  neat 
volume,  called  the  Archer's  Manual,  by  Mr.  R.  H.Hobson, 
of  this  city,  a  work  amply  sufficient  to  direct  the  necessary 
practice  of  an  Archer,  to  the  highest  grade  of  skill.  For 
amusement  and  further  instruction  in  this  pleasing  act,  I 
beg  leave  to  refer  the  aspirant  to  "  Ascham's  Toxophilus," 
a  copy  of  which,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  is  in  the  Philadel- 
phia Library. 

The  prize  of  1S2S,  a  silver  arrow,  was  taken  by  J^; 
the  secondary  prize  of  that  year,  a  broach  set  with  tour- 
quoise,  by  J    . 

That  of  1829,  a  silver  goblet  became  the  property  of 
^  :  the  secondary  prize  of  this  year,  six  English  arrows, 
the  property  of  ^  .  For  the  last  years'  prize,  a  silver 
bugle,  ^  was  again  the  successful  competitor,  and  3 
took  the  secondary,  a  silver  grease  box. 

The  prizes  for  this  year  are,  for  the  first,  a  badge  of  sil- 
ver, with  appropriate  Archery  devices;  and  for  the  secon- 
dary, a  clasp  for  the  belt,  also  with  appropriate  devices, 
the  designs  for  which  are  from  the  pencil  of  our  worthy 
associate  Q)  ,  distinguished  alike  for  his  taste  and  talent  as 
an  artist,  and  the  vigour  of  his  arm  as  an  accomplished 
bowman. 

The  contest  for  these  prizes  will,  I  have  no  doubt,  be 
ably  and  zealously  contested,  and  will  affiard  much  interest 
to  the  parties  and  their  friends. 

For  the  information  of  those  who  may  wish  to  be  fur- 
nished with  bows  and  arrows,  I  beg  leave  to  state,  that 
Mr.  William  Bent,  under  the  patronage  of  the  club,  has 
become  a  proficient  in  the  manufacture  of  these  articles; 
his  shop  is  in  Library-street,  near  to  Fifth. 

If  the  subject  is  deemed  of  sufficient  interest,  I  purpose 
to  give  you,  in  a  future  number,  an  account  of  our  next 
prize  shooting,  which  takes  place  in  September. 

Yours,  truly,  /^ 


ON  THE  VICIOUS  HABITS  AND  PROPENSITIES  OF  HORSES. 
By  Thomas  R.  Yare. 

(From  the  London  Sporting  Magazine,) 

CRIB-BITING. 

BuFPON  says,  "horses  in  their  natural  state  are  by  no 
means  ferocious;  they  are  only  wild  and  fiery;"  and  it  may 
be  added  with  equal  truth,  that  they  are  not  naturally 
vicious:  for  their  ill  tempers,  as  well  as  manners,  originate 
entirely  from  defective  education  and  rough  handling. 


Harsh  usage  and  punishment  are  of  no  avail  as  correc- 
tives; for  under  cruel  discipline  the  horse  becomes  more 
obstinate,  morose,  and  irritable,  and  is  very  soon  rendered 
dangerous  of  approach.  If,  on  the  contrary,  you  use  him 
kindly,  and  he  finds  that,  instead  of  a  tynmt,  he  has  a 
friend  about  him,  he  will  be  under  your  hands  as  tractable 
as  a  lamb:  in  fact,  so  subservient  that  you  may  do  any 
thing  with  him — for  it  is  well  known  to  those  acquainted 
with  the  nature  of  the  horse,  that  no  animal  is  more  suscep- 
tible of  soothing,  nor  more  docile  and  grateful  for  gentle 
usage,  as  he  invariably  evinces  cheerfulness  on  the  approach 
of  the  person  from  whom  he  receives  kind  treatment. 

An  occupation  for  which  I  have  always  felt  a  peculiar 
partiality,  has  been  the  study  of  the  temper  and  disposition 
of  the  horse,  and  from  the  observations  I  have  in  conse- 
quence made,  am  convinced,  that  a  multiplicity  of  errors 
are  committed  from  ignorance  of  his  true  character  in  the 
rearing  and  tuition  of  that  noble  animal,  which  afterwards 
fall  heavily  and  very  unjustly  on  him. 

Many  horses  have  been  entrusted  to  my  care  for  correc- 
tion, under  the  supposition  that  they  were  bad  tempered  or 
viciously  disposed,  which,  in  other  hands,  would,  without 
doubt,  have  been  acted  upon  accordingly — i.  e.  rendered 
more  faulty  by  harsh  proceedings.  On  acquaintance  with 
them,  I  have  generally  found  the  poor  animals  to  be  only 
nervous  and  irritable  from  ill  treatment,  rather  than  vicious 
by  nature;  in  short,  "more  sinned  against  than  sinning:" 
for  no  sooner  had  I  gained  their  confidence,  than  the  tre- 
mulous awe  and  timidity  they  evinced  on  being  approach- 
ed, totally  disappeared;  and  after  a  short  trial,  I  have  re- 
turned them  to  their  owners  divested  of  the  alleged  com- 
plaints, with  this  simple  injunction,  or  something  tanta- 
mount to  it,  "Use  them  kindly:  for  vicious  conduct  makes 
vicious  horses;"  at  the  same  time  urging  them  to  bear  in 
mind,  "  that  the  horse  is  naturally  of  a  gentle  disposition, 
and  much  disposed  to  associate  with  man." 

This  may  be  exemplified  by  any  gentleman  recollecting 
the  pleasure  a  horse  seems  to  feel  when  noticed  and  caress- 
ed by  himself;  yet,  on  scrutiny,  the  same  demonstrations 
of  joy  will  not  lake  place  on  the  approach  of  the  attendant. 
Education  generally  imparts  humanity  and  feeling  to  its 
possessor;  and  a  gentleman  enjoying  these  qualities  more 
eminently  than  his  domestics,  the  animal's  discrimination 
causes  him  to  recognise  a  difference  in  the  behaviour  of 
each  towards  him. 

Grooms  are  too  prone  to  be  harsh  and  hasty  towards  the 
horse ;  whereas,  if  they  would  only  study  to  make  a 
a  pleasure  of  their  duty,  they  would  considerably  abbre- 
viate the  routine  of  their  labour.  In  consequence  of  erro- 
neous conduct,  horses  will  occasionallj^  acquire  a  character 
for  viciousness  amongst  stable  men,  which  cannot  be  sub- 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


215 


stantiated  on  reasonable  grounds,  the  presence  of  the  owner 
being  frequently  a  complete  refutation  to  the  assertion. 

Horses  usually  evince  attachment  towards  those  who  use 
them  kindly.  His  late  Majesty,  Geo.  HI.  had  a  favourite 
charger  named  Adonis.  Whenever  the  King,  on  visiting 
his  stables,  chanced  to  pass  near  enough  for  Adonis  to  hear 
his  voice,  the  animal  would  commence  whinnying  with  joy, 
and  his  recognition  of  his  master  was  always  accompanied 
with  so  much  noise,  that,  to  quiet  him.  His  Majesty  would 
invariably  command  him  to  be  saddled  and  led  forth. 
Having  rode  him  for  a  few  minutes  round  the  premises, 
the  gratified  animal  would  then  return  peaceably  to  his 
quarters;  but  had  the  King  not  humoured  his  wish,  the 
animal  would  have  become  uproarious.  Napoleon  was 
very  fond  of  horses.  Count  Las  Casas  relates  an  anecdote 
of  a  horse  belonging  to  the  Emperor  that  always  showed  a 
considerable  degree  of  pride  and  pleasure  when  carrying 
him,  which  was  never  observed  when  a  groom  or  any  ordi- 
nary person  rode  him. 

Till  within  a  very  short  period,  I  was  not  aware  any  per- 
son had  publicly  treated  on  the  subject  of  humanity  to 
horses  with  the  same  views  entertained  by  myself;  but  I 
perceive  with  pleasure,  in  a  review  of  a  work  printed  on 
the  Continent,  that  the  author  justifies  my  opinion,  and  cor- 
roborates the  truth  of  my  remarks.  One  extract  I  have 
preserved,  which  I  cannot  do  better  than  quote. 

"  It  is  justly  asserted,  in  the  best  works  of  rural  economy 
and  the  veterinary  art,  that  no  horses  are  naturally  vicious. 
When  they  become  vicious,  the  reason  is,  because  we  pay 
too  little  attention  to  the  horse,  and  do  not  study  his  nature 
sufficiently;  and  hence  rather  resort  to  the  whip  and  spur, 
to  signify  our  wishes  to  this  noble  animal,  than  to  kind  and 
gentle  treatment.  In  a  word,  we  know  not  bow  to  make 
ourselves  intelligible  to  the  horse.  It  seems  truly  astonish- 
ing, that  horses  in  general  are  not  more  obstinate;  and  that, 
in  the  consciousness  of  their  strength,  they  do  not  strive 
more  to  rid  themselves  of  their  slavery,  when  we  consider 
how  severely,  cruelly,  and  barbarously,  these  generous 
beasts  are  treated.  How  often  are  they  beaten  and  ill- 
used,  freqviently  without  any  cause!  and  how  seldom,  on 
the  other  hand,  are  they  addressed  in  terms  of  commenda- 
tion and  encouragement,  and  still  less  rewarded!  and  yet 
attentive  observers  have  ascertained,  that  the  horse,  like  the 
elephant  and  dog,  possesses  a  sensibility  of  the  nerves  which 
might  be  termed  a  sense  of  honour,  and  which  is  equally 
susceptible  of  praise  and  blame." 

Crib-biting  is  often  produced  by  injudicious  cleaning.  It 
is  a  common  practice  in  racing  and  hunting  establishments 
to  dress  horses  with  an  ash  stick  in  hand,  which  is  held  at 
them  in  lerrorem  whilst  undergoing  that  process,  and  occa- 
sionally applied  to  their  bodies  with  rigour.     This  practice 


is  not  only  foolish,  but  betrays  a  want  of  judgment  which 
nothing  can  extenuate;  for  the  unruly  conduct  of  the  ani- 
mal is  mainly  attributable  to  mismanagement  and  ignorance 
on  the  part  of  the  attendants  themselves,  who  very  unjustly 
make  the  horse  pay  the  penalty  of  their  own  awkwardness, 
as  I  can  easily  show.  Grooms  and  stablemen  often  disre- 
gard the  irritation  they  cause  to  horses  in  passing  too 
roughly  with  comb,  brush,  or  whisp,  over  the  belly,  flank, 
and  under  the  web  of  the  arm,  which  on  those  tender  parts 
produces  extreme  titillation.  The  animal,  unable  quietly 
to  endure  this,  oftentimes  prolonged  excitement,  in  the 
agony  of  his  suffering,  naturally  enough  resists,  and  evinces 
his  displeasure  of  the  treatment  by  reiterated  attempts  to 
kick  and  bite  the  party  inflicting  the  torture,  as  well  as  laying 
hold  of  the  manger  with  his  teeth,  which  in  many  instances 
is  undoubtedly  the  forerunner  of  crib-biting.  On  these 
occasions,  the  ash  stick  is  brought  into  unmerciful  requisi- 
tion, thereby  spoiling  the  temper  of  many  of  our  best  and 
finest  horses,  who,  compelled  diurnally  to  undergo  this 
teazing  ordeal,  generally  become  s|)iteful  and  ill-natured, 
and,  in  addition  to  other  vicious  propensities,  imbibe  a  mis- 
chievous habit  of  kicking  on  the  approach  of  any  person 
towards  them.  Now,  if  the  groom  would  only  reflect  for 
a  moment,  he  would  be  immediately  convinced  that  his  own 
improper  conduct  was  the  cause  of  the  trouble  experienced, 
and  that  his  irrational  proceeding  must  ultimately  ruin  the 
most  docile  and  quiet  horse;  but  the  despotic  character  of 
man  misleads  him  to  imagine,  that  the  brute  animals  must 
implicitl}'  obey  and  acknowledge  his  supremacy  as  a  law  of 
nature,  and  submit  to  his  will  subserviently,  even  though 
intimated  to  them  in  a  somewhat  ambiguous  manner.  I 
cannot,  with  propriety,  be  contradicted,  when  I  state,  that 
so  long  as  this  baneful  system  of  stable-management  and 
discipline  be  allowed  to  be  pursued  with  impunity  by  ser- 
vants, gentlemen  may  always  make  sure  of  possessing  crib- 
biters  and  vicious  horses. 

The  precaution  which  I  invariably  observe  is,  never  to 
dress,  buckle  or  unbuckle  girth  or  roller,  witii  the  head  to 
the  manger,  or,  if  in  the  open  air,  within  reach  of  any 
thing  the  horse  can  snap  at  or  lay  hold  of;  uniformly  taking 
care  that  he  be  soothed  and  kindly  used  when  undergoing 
the  operation  of  cleaning;  and,  should  resistance  be  opposed 
when  passing  even  as  lightly  as  possible  over  the  parts 
above  mentioned,  I  never  allow  any  violence  to  be  enforced. 
By  this  usage,  the  animal  is  not  only  less  troublesome  to 
the  attendant,  but  the  kindness  of  his  disposition  is  pre- 
served unbroken. 

Vicious  habits  may  likewise  be  ascribed  to  imperfect 
training.  For  instance:  a  horse  is  entrusted  for  that  pur- 
pose to  the  care  of  a  person  totally  unacquainted  with  the 
manner  of  treating  him,  consequently  incapable  of  judging 


216 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


whether  the  horse  be  qualified  by  nature  to  fulfil  the  inten- 
tions of  the  owner.  The  age  and  strength  of  the  animal 
have  not  been  taken  into  consideration;  and  his  incapacity 
to  undergo  the  fatigue  allotted  to  him,  although  proceeding 
from  weakness,  has  very  incorrectly  been  ascribed  to  stub- 
bornness and  obstinacy.  Resistance,  as  may  be  expected, 
has  been  the  natural  consequence;  harsher  usage  has  follow- 
ed; the  temper  of  the  animal  has  become  soured;  and  he 
has  really  imbibed  a  vicious  character,  which,  at  the  onset, 
was  only  imaginary.  The  result  has  been  open  warfare  be- 
tween him  and  his  rider;  in  which  the  latter  seldom  gained 
an  ascendancy;  and  the  former  has  never  been  duly  trained 
for  the  purpose  for  which  he  was  destined;  indeed,  he  has 
frequently  been  rendered  quite  unserviceable,  and  become 
afterwards  a  drug  in  the  market,  though  nature  had  intended 
him  to  be  useful  in  many  capacities,  which,  under  judicious 
management,  would  doubtless  have  been  realised. 

Tlie  nature  of  instruction  requires  that  he  who  teaches 
should  be  intelligent,  and  know  how  to  make  himself  un- 
derstood by  his  pupils,  otherwise  little  good  can  be  attained. 
This  is  more  essentially  requisite  in  the  rearing  and  tuition 
of  an  irrational  animal.  When  the  teacher  knows  but  little 
himself,  or  has  not  the  talent  of  imparting  knowledge  to  his 
scholars,  the  design  of  education  is  not  fulfilled,  and  coer- 
cive measures  only  aggravate  the  evil.  A  parity  of  reason- 
ing will  hold  good  with  horses. 

For  a  long  series  of  years  I  have  been  in  the  habit  of 
making  observations  on  the  errors  committed  in  the  usual 
treatment  and  training  of  horses;  and  I  am  convinced,  from 
experience  deduced  by  long  study  of  the  nature  of  horses, 
and  continual  intercourse  with  them,  that  mild  discipline  is 
the  shie  qua  non  of  stable-management,  and  it  is  the  inte- 
rest of  every  proprietor  to  see  it  enforced.  Patience  and 
good  temper  are  cardinal  requisites  in  a  groom.  Horses 
have  very  retentive  memories,  and  seldom  forget  the  unruly 
tricks  or  habits  acquired  from  improper  and  hasty  hand- 
ling. 

I  have  just  observed  that  crib-biting  is  oftentimes  caused 
by  improper  dressing.  It  also  very  generally  dates  its  ori- 
gin, according  to  the  observations  I  have  personally  made, 
to  want  of  employment,  as  well  as  to  imitation. 

Bad  habits  usually  result  from  idleness.  If  we  are  inve- 
terate smokers  or  snuff-takers,  let  us  ask  ourselves  the  rea- 
son of  our  indulgence  in  these  propensities?  For  the  mo- 
ment, probably,  we  cannot  account  for  them;  but,  after  a 
little  reflection,  are  free  to  admit,  that  imitation  and  too 
much  leisure  are  the  causes;  and  custom  has  tended  to  root 
us  so  firmly  to  these  habits,  that  to  be  debarred  their  indul- 
gence, would  to  many  persons  be  downright  misery.  As 
with  man,  so  it  is  with  the  horse. 

A  crib-biter,  or  wind-sucker,  should  never  be  turned  out 


to  grass  promiscuously  with  other  horses,  for  he  most 
assuredly  will  get  at  the  land  marks  and  gates;  and,  whilst 
indulging  in  his  propensity,  will  naturally  attract  the  notice 
of  his  companions.  Imitation,  as  I  said  before,  is  one  of 
the  leading  inducements  to  this  destructive  habit.  I  was 
once  an  eye-witness  to  the  fact  of  a  horse,  when  in  the 
field,  drawing  the  attention  of  four  others  from  amongst  the 
number  grazing,  to  his  actions.  They  alternately  began, 
first  to  smell,  and  then  to  nibble  at  the  place  moistened  by 
the  saliva  of  their  comrade,  and,  as  I  prognosticated  at  the 
time,  became  afterwards  confirmed  crib-biters. 

A  horse,  from  want  of  exercise,  will  often  take  to  crib- 
bing from  sheer  idleness,  or  too  much  confinement  in  the 
stable;  and  the  abominable  practice  of  tying  the  head  to  the 
rack,  produces,  particularly  in  young  high-couraged  horses, 
an  impatient  restlessness.  Some  show  their  dislike  of  the 
restraint  by  continual  kicking  with  one  or  other  of  the  hind 
legs;  others,  by  licking  and  nibbling  the  rack  or  manger, 
till  they  imbibe  a  professed  attachment  to  the  vice,  more 
especially  if,  in  the  adjacent  stall,  they  have  a  companion 
addicted  to  crib-biting,  and  themselves  a  nice  soft  deal 
manger,  inviting  them  to  enter  upon  their  noviciate. 

Confinement  in  the  stable  for  too  long  a  period,  has  a 
similar  effect  on  the  horse,  as  too  great  an  indulgence  of 
bed  has  on  the  human  frame — it  produces  general  debility 
and  weakness.  My  advice  is,  when  the  horse  be  not  wanted 
for  service,  to  give  him  walking  exercise  in  the  open  air, 
three  or  four  hours  a  day,  allowing  him  plenty  to  eat  and 
drink;  and  if  this  do  not  keep  him  hale  and  fit  for  use,  why, 
get^  rid  of  him,  as,  to  borrow  a  stable  phrase,  "  he  must  be 
rotten."  When  the  weather  will  not  permit  of  exercise  in 
the  dry,  put  on  a  soft  bit  with  players,  for  two  hours  in  the 
morning,  and  two  hours  in  the  afternoon;  by  an  adherence 
to  which  rule  digestion  is  promoted,  the  loss  of  exercise 
compensated,  and,  by  the  amusement  the  horse  finds  in  the 
bit,  he  is  not  only  kept  out  of  mischief,  but  the  carriage  of 
the  head  is  greatly  facilitated.  Exercise  improves  the 
appetite  and  strengthens  the  powers  of  digestion  in  a  sur- 
prising manner;  hunger  becomes  keen;  and  food  is  taken 
with  eager  relish,  which  is  well  known  to  be  one  of  the 
best  signs  of  health. 


[Tot 


QUADRUPEDS. 

Op  the  two  hundred  species  of  Quadrupeds  which  Buffon 
supposes  to  exist,  he  calculates,  that  about  ninety  are  origi- 
nal inhabitants  of  the  Old  Continent,  and  about  seventy  of 
the  New,  and  that  forty  may  be  accounted  common  to  both. 
Since  the  period  when  he  wrote,  the  number  of  species  has 
been  much  increased. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS, 
AMERICAN  VARYING  HARE. 


Sir 


L  EP  US  VIRGINMNUS.  —Harlan. 

Varying  Hare,  Pennant  Quad.  Warden  Descrip.  U.  S. 
V.  p.  635.  Lewis  &  Clarke,  2.  p.  178.  Lepits  Vir- 
ginianiis,  Harlan.  Faun.  am.  196,300.  Prairie  Hare, 
Richardson,  Faun.  am.  bor. — Philadelphia  Museum. 

Few  of  the  genera  of  quadrupeds  present  more  obstacles 
to  the  naturalist,  than  that  of  Lepus;  among  the  species  of 
which  there  are  so  many  points  of  similarity  and  almost 
identity,  that  it  is  a  task  of  no  slight  difficulty  to  distinguish 
whether  the  differential  characters  which  have  been  assigned 
to  them,  are  really  specific,  or  only  arise  from  the  modify- 
ing influence  of  climate  and  habitat.  But  although  the  seve- 
ral species  of  this  genus  are  so  analogous  as  to  constitute 
one  of  the  most  natural  groups  of  the  mammalia,  they  are 
spread  over  a  wide  extent  of  the  globe,  exhibiting,  how- 
ever, in  every  country,  the  same  characteristics.  When  we 
consider  the  great  and  almost  incredible  changes  that  are 
wrought  in  the  external  configuration  and  habits  of  animals 
by  change  of  residence,  and  the  effects  of  domestication, 
it  must  be  evident  that  it  is  often  impossible  to  determine 
whether  the  apparent  differences  between  animals  arise  from 
their  descent  from  various  parent  stocks,  or  have  been  pro- 
duced by  the  gradual  operation  of  extrinsic  causes.  Thus, 
when  the  natural  history  of  any  one  of  our  domestic  ani- 
mals, as  the  sheep  for  example,  is  sufficiently  known;  when 
we  find,  on  its  transportation  from  one  climate  to  another, 
that  changes  are  produced,  apparently  amounting  to  specific 
differences,  it  becomes  exceedingly  difficult  to  assign  any 
limits  to  this  operation  of  nature,  and  to  decide,  in  an  ab- 
solute manner,  between  the  analogy  and  affinity  of  animals. 
These  observations  apply  with  great  force  to  the  genus  un- 
der consideration,  from  the  striking  similarity  that  exists 
between  the  species  composing  it,  species,  however,  it 
should  be  recollected,  sanctioned  by  the  highest  names  in 
zoology. 

As  the  resemblance  of  the  various  species  to  the  common 
type  is  almost  as  strong  in  their  habits  and  manners  as  in 
external  characters,  what  we  shall  notice  in  speaking  of  the 
genus  is  applicable,  in  a  great  measure,  to  the  individual 
which  now  engages  our  attention. 

The  Hares  belong  to  the  great  order  of  Rodentia  or  Gnaw- 
ers; they  are  distinguished  by  the  number  and  singular  ar- 
rangement of  their  upper  incisor  teeth,  the  structure  of 
their  head,  and  many  other  organic  peculiarities.  The  head 
is  narrow  and  compressed,  with  a  rather  acute  snout;  the 
eyes  large,  prominent,  and  placed  laterally;  the  ears  are 
long,  and  placed  close  to  each  other.  The  upper  lip  is  cleft, 
31 


and  the  inside  of  the  cheeks  covered  with  hair;  in  each 
groin  there  is  a  fold  of  skin,  that  forms  a  kind  of  pouch. 
The  fore  legs  are  short,  and  have  five  toes,  covered  with  a 
soft  velvety  hair;  the  hinder  legs  are  very  long,  and  have 
only  four  toes,  the  soles  of  which  are  furnished  with  hair, 
analogous  to  the  anterior  feet.  There  are  twenty-eight 
teeth — incisors  i,  molar  I|.  The  upper  incisors  are  dou- 
ble, that  is,  there  are  two  rows,  one  behind  the  other,  the 
posterior  of  which  is  the  smaller;  and  at  one  moment,  when 
they  are  changing  their  teeth,  they  appear  to  have  three 
rows  or  six  upper  incisors. 

There  is  one  very  remarkable  anatomical  peculiarity  in 
this  genus;  the  females  are  furnished  with  a  double  matrix, 
so  that  two  contemporaneous  fecundations  can  go  on  together; 
this  peculiarity  of  form  also  accounts  for  these  animals  being 
so  extremely  prolific.  They  are  capable  of  reproduction  at 
a  very  early  age,  and  produce  young  every  thirty  days, 
having  from  two  to  five  at  a  birth. 

According  to  the  Mosaic  ordinances,  these  animals  are 
placed  among  the  ruminants.  This  arose,  perhaps,  from  the 
stomach  appearing  double,  owingto  a  peculiarfold  in  it;  added 
to  which,  the  coecum  is  so  large  that,  in  the  infancy  of  ana- 
tomical knowledge,  it  might  readily  have  been  mistaken  for 
a  second  stomach;  the  Hare  genus  have  also  the  habit  of 
keeping  their  under  lip  in  constant  motion,  giving  the  sem- 
blance of  rumination.  But,  although  forbidden  to  be  eaten 
by  the  Jews,  and  even  by  the  ancient  Britons,  the  flesh 
of  the  Hare  appears  to  have  been  held  in  great  esteem  by 
the  epicures  of  Rome;  thus,  Martial  says,  ''Inter  quadru- 
pedes  gloria  prima  Lepus,"  and  Horace,  who  is  no  slight 
authority  as  regards  the  pleasures  of  the  table,  gives  it  as 
his  opinion,  that  every  man  of  taste  must  prefer  the  fore  leg: 
"  Fecunditur  Leporis  sapiens  sectabilur  armos." 

The  eye  of  the  Hare  has  no  accessory  organ,  and  the  pu- 
pil is  elongated  horizontally;  their  nostrils  are  nearly  circu- 
lar, and  almost  hidden  in  a  fold,  so  that  they  can  be  closed. 
The  ears  of  all  the  species  are  very  large,  and  are  also  capa- 
ble of  being  closed  at  the  will  of  the  animal.  The  voice  of 
these  animals  is  seldom  or  never  heard,  except  when  they  are 
irritated  or  wounded,  when  they  utter  a  loud  piercing  cry, 
bearing  some  resemblance  to  that  of  a  child  in  pain.  Al- 
though exceedingly  timid  and  watchful,  the  Hare  is  capable 
of  being  domesticated,  and  even  taught  a  variety  of  tricks. 
One  was  exhibited  in  London,  some  time  since,  which  could 
play  on  the  tambourine,  discharge  a  pistol,  and  perform  a 
variety  of  other  feats  of  as  strange  a  character  for  an  animal 
of  so  fearful  a  disposition. 

From  the  great  length  of  the  hinder  legs,  the  gait  of  the 
Hare  is  a  succession  of  leaps,  or  an  interrupted  gallop;  like 
all  animals  of  this  conformation  they  sit  on  the  tarsi  of  the 
hinder  feet,  and  use  the  anterior  extremities  to  convey  food 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


to  the  mouth,  to  cleanse  their  fur,  &c.  They  drink  by  lap- 
ping. This  length  of  the  hinder  limbs  also  enables  them  to 
ascend  declivities  with  great  speed.  They  feed  on  vegeta- 
bles, and  are  very  destructive  to  bark  of  young  trees. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  peculiarities  of  this  genus  is 
the  difference  of  habits  between  some  of  the  species,  closely 
allied  as  they  are  in  their  ph3'sical  appearance.  Thus,  the 
Rabbit  and  the  Hare,  although  furnished  with  analogous  or- 
gans, and  inhabiting  in  many  instances  the  same  countries, 
manifest  the  greatest  aversion  for  each  other,  a  hatred  which 
M.  F.  Cuvier  asserts  nothing  can  obliterate,  for,  however 
nearly  they  are  assimilated  in  form  or  character,  they  never 
associate;  and,  when  they  meet,  a  combat  generally  ensues, 
which  often  terminates  fatally  to  one  of  the  parties. 

One  striking  point  of  dissimilarity  between  the  Hare  and 
Rabbit  is,  that  whilst  the  Hare  merely  forms  a  shallow  hol- 
low in  the  earth  for  her  form  or  nest,  the  Rabbit  excavates 
deep  and  tortuous  burrows.  These  subterranean  habitations 
have  several  entrances,  and  are  inhabited  by  many  indivi- 
duals, though  all  of  the  same  family.  It  has  been  stated  by 
those  conversant  with  the  subject,  that  these  burrows  descend 
from  generation  to  generation.  This  respect  for  succession 
of  property,  although  asserted  for  ages,  has  never  been  dis- 
proved by  modern  zoologists,  strange  and  almost  incredible 
as  it  appears  to  be.  La  Fontaine  has  alluded  to  it  in  one  of 
his  fables: 

"  Jean  Lapin  allcgua  la  coutume  et  I'usage, 
Ce  sont  leurs  lois,  dit  il,  qui  m'ont  de  ce  logis 
Rendu  maitre  et  seigneur,  et  qui,  de  pere  en  fils 
L  'ait  de  Pierre  &  Simon,  puis  a  moi  Jean  transmis. 

The  Rabbit  is  thought  to  have  been  originally  a  native  of 
Spain,  but  has  been  common  in  the  rest  of  Europe  for  ages. 
By  domestication  the  colours  of  this  species,  as  of  all  others 
which  have  been  reclaimed  by  man,  are  very  various,  some 
individuals  being  black,  others  lead  coloured,  &c.  one  vari- 
ety, called  Angora  Rabbits,  is  furnished  with  long  silky 
hair. 

All  the  species  of  the  genus  Lepus  hitherto  discovered 
in  North  America,  have  the  habits  of  the  Hare,  though  they 
are  generally  called  Rabbits.  We  will  at  present  confine 
our  observations  to  the  subject  of  our  illustration,  which 
has  given  rise  to  some  diversity  of  opinion  among  natural- 
ists, though  it  has  long  been  known  to  hunters  and  fur  traders 
as  different  from  the  common  species.  As  was  the  case 
with  almost  all  the  American  animals  resembling  those  of 
the  old  continent,  early  naturalists  considered  it  as  identical 
with  the  analogous  European  species.  The  first  description 
given  of  it  in  any  detail  is  by  Hearne.  "The  varying 
hares  are  numerous,  and  extend  as  far  as  latitude  72°  N.  and 
probably  farther.     They  delight  most  in  rocky  and  stony 


places,  near  the  borders  of  woods,  though  many  of  them 
brave  the  coldest  winters  on  entirely  barren  ground.  In 
summer  they  are  nearly  of  the  colour  of  our  English  wild 
rabbit,  bjt  in  winter  assume  a  most  delicate  white  all  over, 
except  the  tips  of  the  ears,  which  are  black.  They  are, 
when  full  grown,  and  in  good  condition,  very  large,  many 
of  them  weighing  fourteen  or  fifteen  pounds."* 

This  account  agrees  very  well  with  that  of  Lewis  and 
Clarke;  these  authors  state:  "  The  Hare  on  the  western  side 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains  inhabits  the  great  plains  of  the 
Columbia.  On  the  eastward  of  those  mountains  they  inha- 
bit the  plains  of  the  Missouri.  They  weigh  from  seven  to 
eleven  pounds;  the  eye  is  large  and  prominent,  the  pupil  of 
a  deep  sea  green,  occupying  one-third  of  the  diameter  of 
the  eye;  the  iris  is  of  a  bright  yellow  and  silver  colour;  the 
ears  are  placed  far  back  and  near  each  other,  which  the  ani- 
mal can,  with  surprising  ease  and  quickness,  dilate  and 
throw  forward,  or  contract  and  hold  upon  his  back  at  plea- 
sure; the  head,  neck,  and  back,  shoulders  and  outer  parts  of 
the  legs  and  thighs,  are  of  a  lead  colour;  the  sides,  as  they 
approach  the  belly,  become  gradually  more  white;  the  bel- 
ly, breast,  and  inner  parts  of  the  legs  and  thighs  are  white, 
with  a  light  shade  of  lead  colour;  the  tail  is  round  and  bluntly 
pointed,  covered  with  white  soft  fur.  The  colours  here  de- 
scribed are  those  which  the  animal  assumes  from  the  mid- 
dle of  April  to  the  middle  of  November,  the  rest  of  the 
year  he  is  of  a  pure  white,  except  the  black  and  reddish 
brown  of  the  ears,  which  never  changes.  A  few  reddish 
brown  spots  are  sometimes  mixed  with  the  white  at  this 
season,  (the  winter,)  on  their  heads  and  upper  parts  of  their 
necks  and  shoulders;  the  body  of  the  animal  is  smaller  and 
longer,  in  proportion  to  its  height,  than  the  rabbit;  when  he 
runs  he  conveys  his  tail  straight  behind,  in  the  direction  of 
his  body."t 

The  next  person  who  mentioned  this  animal  is  Warden; 
he  observes,  "  the  varying  Hare,  of  the  southern  parts  of 
the  United  States,  is  distinguished  from  the  American  Rab- 
bit, by  changing  from  a  gray  brown,  which  is  its  colour  in 
spring  and  summer,  to  a  full  white  in  winter.  Its  ears  are 
also  shorter  and  marked  with  black,  and  its  legs  more  slen- 
der. The  largest  varying  Hares  are  about  eighteen  inches 
long,  and  weigh  from  seven  to  eight  pounds. ''J 

Notwithstanding  these  notices,  the  American  Varying 
Hare  remained  undistinguished  by  naturalists;  or,  at  most, 
was  considered  as  a  mere  variety,  until  the  publication  of  the 
Fauna  Americana,  by  Dr.  Harlan,  when  he  designated  it  as 
a  new  species  under  the  name  of  ^'virginianiis,"  giving 
the  following  as  its  essential  characters:  "  Grayish  brown 

*  Journey  to  the  Northern  Ocean,  by  Samuel  Hearne,  in  the  years  1769-72. 
t  Travels  to  the  Pacific  Ocean  in  1804-6,  by  Captains  Lewis  and  Clarke. 
X  Account  of  the  United  States,  by  D.  B.  Warden. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


219 


in  summer,  white  in  winter;  the  orbits  of  the  eyes  sur- 
rounded by  a  reddish  fawn  colour  at  all  times;  ears  and  head 
of  nearly  equal  length;  tail  very  short."" 

Dr.  Godman,  however,  doubts  the  propriety  of  erecting 
this  into  a  new  species,  on  the  ground  of  the  differential 
characters  adduced  not  being  sufficient.  "  When,"  says  he, 
"  we  compare  this  animal  with  the  polar  hare,  L.  glacialis 
Sabine,  and  with  the  L.  variabilis,  or  Alpine  hare,  we  shall 
be  convinced  that  distinctive  characters  have  not  3'et  been 
given  to  establish  the  supposed  new  species,  as  well  as  that 
such  distinctive  characters  are  very  few  and  difficult  of  dis- 
covery." We  fully  agree  with  this  author  as  to  the  want 
of  character  in  the  specific  description,  and  that  taking  this 
alone,  there  would  not,  perhaps,  be  any  just  grounds  for  ele- 
vating it  into  a  new  species.  But,  at  the  same  time,  as  we 
have  before  observed,  the  species  of  the  genus  Lepus  resem- 
ble each  other  so  closely,  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  de- 
termine what  should  be  assumed  as  differential  characters. 
The  author  of  the  Fauna  Americana,  it  should  be  stated,  has 
the  strong  support  of  Dr.  Richardson,  in  corroboration  of  the 
validity  of  his  species.  This  author  makes  an  observation  in 
his  account  of  it,  however,  which  may  lead  to  error — that  the 
identity  of  the  specimen  described  bj'  Dr.  Godman,  with 
the  L.  virginianus  of  Dr.  Harlan,  has  not  been  ascertained ; 
now,  if  we  mistake  not,  both  these  authors  drew  up  their 
accounts  from  the  same  specimens;  thus,  the  former  says, 
"  Through  the  kindness  of  that  zealous  friend  of  science, 
Charles  L.  Buonaparte,  we  have  had  an  opportunity  of  exa- 
mining and  preparing  a  description  of  a  hare,  from  specimens 
in  winter  and  summer  pelage,  belonging  to  his  valuable  col- 
lection;" and  the  latter  observes,  "  The  above  description 
is  taken  principally  from  a  prepared  specimen  in  the  posses- 
sion of  JNIr.  C.  Buonaparte." 

Before  attempting  to  compare  this  animal  with  the  other 
American  species,  we  will  give  a  description  of  the  speci- 
men from  which  our  illustration  was  drawn.  This  indivi- 
dual was  obtained  by  Mr.  Titian  R.  Peale,  in  the  State  of 
Maine,  late  in  the  autumn;  it  is  evident  that  the  change  in 
the  colour  of  the  hair  has  not  taken  place,  and  hence  no 
character  can  be  drawn  from  this,  as  it  presents  a  mixture 
of  both  coats. 

Size — larger  than  the  common  American  Hare.  Fur — 
forehead,  cheeks,  and  back  reddish  brown,  darker  on  the 
posterior  parts  of  the  body.  These  hairs  are  coloured  as 
follows — plumbeous  at  base,  then  light  yellow,  then  dusky, 
then  reddish  brown,  and,  finally,  blackish  at  tip.  Under 
jaw  white,  and  this  colour  extends  backwards  as  far  as  the 
bases  of  the  ears.  Belly  and  legs  whitish,  here  and  there 
tinged  with  light  reddish  brown;  some  irregular  white  spots 

•  Fauna  Americana,  &c.  by  R.  Harlan,  M.  D. 


on  the  back.  Tail  white  beneath,  light  lead  colour  above. 
Ears  whitish,  tinged  with  reddish  brown  internally;  whitish 
with  a  darker  reddish  brown  border  on  their  anterior  mar- 
gin externally,  tip  brownish  black.  Orbits  of  the  eye  sur- 
rounded with  a  reddish  brown.  Whiskers,  some  of  the 
hairs  entirely  white,  others  wholly  black,  and  some  black 
at  base  and  white  at  tip.  Feet,  covered  with  a  thick  brush, 
which  is  of  a  soiled  yellowish  white,  intermixed  on  top  with 
reddish  brown;  fore  toes  short,  claws  white,  long,  not  much 
curved,  and  resembling  those  of  the  common  American 
Hare;  hinder  toes  large,  spreading.  Our  description  being 
taken  from  a  stuffed  specimen,  we  are  unable  to  give  cor- 
rect measurements,  or  to  say  any  thing  about  the  weight, 
these,  however,  are  very  fallacious  guides,  as  all  the  authors 
we  have  quoted  give  great  latitude  in  this  respect.  The 
ears,  also,  are  so  much  contracted  by  drying  as  to  be  much 
sliorter  than  the  head. 

That  this  species  may  be  compared  with  the  Polar  Hare, 
(L.  glacialis,  J  we  subjoin  a  description  of  the  latter  as  given 
by  Sabine.  "  The  Polar  Hare  is  larger  than  the  variabilis. 
Its  colour,  in  winter  dress,  is  white,  having  the  ears  black 
at  tip,  and  longer  than  the  head.  The  nails  are  strong, 
broad,  and  depressed.  The  ears  are  longer  in  proportion  to 
the  head,  than  those  of  the  common  Hare,  (L.  timidiis,;  and 
much  longer  than  those  of  the  Alpine  Hare,  (L.  variabi- 
lis.) The  fore  teeth  are  curves  of  a  much  larger  circle,  and 
the  orbits  of  the  eye  project  much  more  than  those  of  either 
of  the  other  species;  the  claws  are  broad,  depressed,  and 
strong,  those  of  the  L.  timidus  and  L.  variabilis,  on  the 
contrary,  are  weak  and  compressed." 

Thus  it  will  be  seen  that  the  species  under  consideration 
differs  from  the  glacialis:  in  the  length  of  its  ears,  in  the 
form  and  strength  of  its  nails,  and  in  the  reddish  brown 
margin  of  the  ears,  which  are  never  found  in  the  Polar  Hare 
in  its  winter  dress.  As  respects  the  fawn  coloured  ring  sur- 
rounding the  orbits  of  the  eyes,  we  are  unable  to  speak  from 
actual  observation,  except  in  the  specimen  under  considera- 
tion. Dr.  Godman,  however,  thinks  that  this  does  not  always 
exist.  The  nearest  approach  of  this  species  is  certainly  to 
the  variabilis  of  the  old  continent,  from  which  it  neverthe- 
less appears  to  be  distinct,  in  manj^  particulars  of  its  form 
and  habits. 

The  American  Varying  Hare  appears  to  inhabit  a  great 
portion  of  North  America,  as  it  has  been  found  in  Virginia, 
and  as  far  north  as  55  degrees,  whilst  eastward  it  is  found 
on  the  great  plains  of  the  Colombia.  It  appears  generally 
to  frequent  plains  and  low  grounds,  where  it  lives  like  the 
common  Hare,  never  burrowing,  but  does  not  resort  to  the 
thick  woods.  The  variabilis  of  Europe,  on  the  contrary, 
is  described  as  always  inhabiting  the  highest  mountains, 
and  never  descending  into  the  plains,  except  when  forced 


220 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


to  seek  for  food,  when  the  mountains  are  covered  with  snow. 
The  American  species  is  remarkably  swift,  never  taking 
shelter  when  pursued,  and  is  capable  of  taking  astonishing 
leaps;  Captain  Lewis  measured  some  of  these,  and  found 
their  length  to  be  from  eighteen  to  twenty-one  feet.  The 
variabilis  is  said,  on  the  other  hand,  to  be  rather  slow  in 
its  motions,  and,  when  alarmed,  to  seek  for  refuge  in  clefts 
of  the  rocks.  Warden,  however,  states  that  the  virginia- 
nus,  when  pursued,  will  retreat  into  hollow  trees. 

They,  like  all  the  Hares,  are  very  prolific,  the  female 
having  several  litters  a  year,  of  five  or  six  leverets  at  a  time. 


ON  THE  GROWTH  OF  TREES. 

One  of  the  most  obvious  contrasts  presented  by  the  vege- 
table kingdom,  is  between  the  tribes  that  rapidly  expand 
their  foliage,  and  push  up  their  flower-bearing  stems,  and 


its  leaves.  As  soon  as  the  season  again  becomes  milder, 
vegetation,  which  had  been  suspended,  is  renewed;  the 
buds  insensibly  expand,  and  the  unfolding  of  new  leaves 
gives  a  new  life  to  the  plant;  each  of  these  leaves  is  accom- 
panied by  its  bud.  Thus  each  successive  season,  producing 
a  mass  of  foliage,  which  increases  by  a  rapid  geometrical 
progression,  and  an  equal  number  of  new  buds,  occasions 
the  formation  of  a  new  body  of  ligneous  substance,  which 
overlays  the  whole  body,  and  thus  forms  the  whole  tree  in- 
to a  kind  of  cone. 

The  whole  mass  of  the  wood  is  thus  composed  of  thin 
successive  cones.  They  are  easily  perceived  in  many  trees, 
and  it  is  they  which  form  those  concentric  circles  observa- 
ble in  a  trunk  cut  across.  Each  circle,  depending  wholly 
upon  the  increase  caused  by  the  return  of  successive  seasons, 
becomes  a  sure  testimony  of  the  age  of  the  tree. 

The  principal  part  of  our  trees  exhibits  these  laws  of  de- 
velopment. The  buds  may  be  more  or  less  apparent;  and 
the  scales  which  enclose  tliem  may  be  more  or  less  nume- 
rous, being  increased  in  number  in  proportion  to  the  greater 


by  bringing  their  fruit  to  perfection,  fulfil  the  purpose  of  sensibility  of  the  organs  which  they  enclose, 
their  creation  in  the  space  of  a  few  months,  or  even  weeks, 
and  those  monarchs  of  the  forest  which  bear  aloft  their  ma- 
jestic branches  in  the  air,  and  see  centuries  passing  by  them, 
while  generation  after  generation  of  herbs,  and  even  men, 
are  perishing  at  their  feet.  One  would  think  that  if  any 
thing  could  indicate  a  difference  of  organization,  it  would 
be  peculiarities  like  these.  In  fact,  if  we  examine  one  of 
these  vegetable  colossi,  which  storms  or  other  accidents  have 
levelled  with  the  earth  that  was  so  long  overshadowed  by  its 
branches,  we  perceive  that  its  interior  consists  of  a  solid, 
compact,  homogeneous  substance,  which  seems  to  be  ana- 
logous to  nothing  in  the  annual  plant  ;  we  also  see,  how- 
ever, that  a  section  of  this  substance  is  marked  by  concentric 
circles.  In  order  to  ascertain  the  origin  of  these  circles,  it 
is  necessary  to  revert  to  the  seeds,  which  such  a  tree  pro- 
duces in  vast  abundance.  There  we  discover  the  same  parts 
as  in  the  annual  plants;  two  cotyledones;  a  cylinder,  which 
attempts  to  fix  itself  in  the  earth  by  the  production  of  roots; 
and  an  intermediate  bud.  The  impulse  once  given  to  its 
development,  this  seed,  with  its  apparently  feeble  resources, 
will  become  in  the  lapse  of  years  and  ages  similar  to  that 
giant  which  produced  it.  In  the  leaves  and  buds  consist  the 
sources  of  its  magnitude;  the  former  being  under  the  neces- 
sity, on  the  one  hand,  of  coming  into  contact  with  air,  and 
on  the  other,  of  establishing  a  communication  witii  the  soil, 
establish  the  action  of  vegetation.  The  first  year  passes  on 
as  in  the  annual  plant,  except  that  the  parts  of  the  tree  are 
unfolded  with  less  rapidity,  and  that  the  buds  present  nei- 
tlier  flowers  nor  fruit,  but  a  tree  covered  with  scales.  Upon 
the  arrival  of  winter  the  annual  perishes,  the  tree  loses  only 


For  a  more 
sure  protection,  the  scales  are  often  covered  with  glutinous 
or  resinous  exudations.  But  even  with  this  safeguard,  the 
fostering  hand  of  nature  does  not  rest.  Thick  furs  are  fre- 
quently interposed  during  the  winter  among  the  buds,  and 
thrown  over  the  tender  shoots. 

By  this  means  the  buds  remain  safely  upon  the  tree.  We 
generally  remark  one  which  is  a  termination  of  the  branch 
and  which  will  the  following  year  prolong  the  branch  in  its 
original  direction;  all  the  others  are  seated  at  the  axillBe  of 
the  leaves. 

Trees  present  many  peculiarities,  which  depend  upon 
their  woody  state.  The  pith,  which  occupies  the  centre  of 
young  plants,  disappears  in  trees.  It  is  probable  that,  be- 
sides the  increase  in  diameter  which  takes  place  externally, 
some  peculiar  operation  goes  forward  in  the  inside,  and  that 
the  solid  layers  of  wood  compress  the  pith  in  such  a  way  as 
to  leave  scarcely  any  traces  behind.  Around  it  vegetation 
is  evidently  maintained  for  a  long  time,  as  is  shown  by  the 
green  tinge  which  surrounds  it.  Larger  and  more  obvious 
vessels  are  placed  about  it  than  elsewhere,  and  constitute 
what  is  called  the  etui  medullaire  by  the  French,  which 
there  is  reason  to  think  is  one  of  the  most  important  acces- 
sories of  vegetation. 

The  wood  does  not  at  once  arrive  at  that  solidity  which 
it  subsequently  possesses,  but  acquires  it  by  slow  degrees, 
from  the  centre  to  the  circumference.  For  this  reason  the 
external  layers  are  much  less  compact,  and  paler  than  the 
internal;  they  are  called  the  alburnum.  Dutrochet  accounts 
for  this  difierence  in  the  old  and  new  layers  of  wood  with 
his  usual  sagacity.      He  is  of  opinion  that  a  portion  of  the 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


221 


sap,  elaborated  and  sent  downwards  by  the  leaves  under 
the  state  of  proper  juice,  is  absorbed  laterally  by  means  of 
the  radiating  vessels,  or  gilver  grain,  and  is  gradually  depo- 
sited in  the  originally  empty  vessels  of  the  wood ;  that  the 
compactness  and  weight  of  wood  depend  upon  these  juices 
so  deposited,  and  not  upon  any  constitutional  difference  in 
the  wood  itself;  and  that  in  certain  trees,  which  are  re- 
markably light,  as  the  poplar,  no  deposit,  or  scarcely  any, 
takes  place. 

The  bark  also  undergoes  material  changes  in  the  course 
of  time.  The  first  branches  which  are  produced  are  green, 
like  the  leaves;  their  colour  being  occasioned  by  the  trans- 
parency of  the  epidermis,  which  allows  the  cellular  tissue, 
or  the  parenchyma,  to  show  through.  By  slow  degrees  the 
epidermis  thickens,  and  assumes  a  deeper  colour,  under 
which  appearance  it  is  seen  in  the  winter  season.  If  it  is 
raised  up,  the  green  colour  of  the  parenchyma  is  still  mani- 
fest enough  beneath  it.  The  epidermis  necessarily  gives 
way  gradually  to  the  growth  of  the  tree,  and  splitting  in 
various  directions  is  replaced  by  another;  and  by  slow 
degrees  new  layers  are  formed,  and  burst  in  various  direc- 
tions. According  to  the  nature  of  the  plant  the  epidermis 
also  takes  a  variety  of  forms,  sometimes  forming  the  mis- 
shapen knotty  crust  which  is  usually  called  bark,  sometimes 
peeling  off  in  thin  layers,  and  occasionally  falling  from  the 
parent  tree  in  hard  flakes. 

It  is  probable  that  the  bark  performs  the  same  functions 
as  the  leaves,  in  the  early  state  of  the  buds,  and  occasionally 
in  all  states.  Otherwise  it  would  not  be  easy  to  account  for 
the  growth  of  cacti,  euphorbias,  some  apocineous  plants,  &c. 
which  are  all  destitute  of  leaves.  In  fine,  the  bark  may  be 
compared  to  a  universal  leaf,  with  one  surface  only. 

We  have  seen  what  ingenious  methods  nature  adopts  to 
screen  the  buds  from  the  rigour  of  winter;  but  in  countries 
where  there  is  no  winter  no  defence  is  requisite.  These 
protecting  scales  diminish,  therefore,  by  degrees,  as  we  ap- 
proach the  equator.  In  the  trees  which  cover  countries  in 
such  a  latitude,  the  buds  break  forth  at  once  into  leaves  and 
branches,  without  regarding  the  order  of  seasons.  By  this 
circumstance  the  apparent  difference  between  trees  and 
herbs  is  removed. 

In  like  manner,  insensible  gradations  unite  the  herbs 
which  creep  or  trail  along  the  ground,  and  those  which 
carry  their  heads  aloft  in  the  air:  the  perennial  and  the 
annual  vegetable.  Some  exist  for  two  years.  The  stems  of 
others  perish  every  year,  but  their  roots  survive.  Some 
under  shrubs  scarcely  elevate  themselves  from  the  soil,  yet 
their  slender  stems  are  formed  of  a  firm  and  woody  sub- 
stance. Next  come  the  shrubs  whose  branched  and  entangled 
stems  from  bushes.  Lastly  are  perfected  the  trees,  which, 
from  possessing  a  stem  scarcely  loftier  than  the  stature  of  a 
3K 


man,  finally  dilate  themselves  till  they  become  the  giants  of 
the  forest. 

We  have  assigned,  as  the  cause  of  increase  in  the  bulk  of 
trees,  the  communication  which  is  established  in  their  system 
between  the  leaves  and  roots.  The  reciprocity  of  disposition 
of  these  two  organs  is  so  strong,  that  if  a  bit  of  a  branch  of 
any  tree  which  is  robust  enough  to  bear  the  operation,  be 
placed  in  the  earth,  it  immediately  makes  good  the  loss  it 
has  sustained  by  being  dissevered.  It  presently  produces 
fresh  roots,  and  a  new  plant  is  formed.  The  advantage 
which  is  taken  of  this  peculiarity  of  plants,  to  propagate 
them  by  cuttings  or  layers,  is  well  known.  But  this  is  not 
all ;  a  bud  separated  from  its  parent,  and  inserted  between 
the  bark  and  the  wood  of  another  tree,  soon  establishes  the 
requisite  communication  between  itself  and  the  earth,  and 
renders  the  tree  which  bears  it  similar  in  nature  to  the  kind 
artificially  inserted.  Hence  the  origin  of  budding  and  graft- 
ing in  horticulture. 

From  these  observations  it  has  become  evident  that  the 
life  of  a  plant  is  a  succession  of  several  lives;  and  that  the 
greater  proportion  of  its  parts  consists  of  an  intermediate 
system,  which  only  serves  to  maintain  a  communication 
between  the  extreme  points  of  the  vegetable.  If  a  tree  is 
destroyed  by  the  ravages  of  time,  its  death  can  be  only  occa- 
sioned by  the  destruction  of  the  intermediate  portions  of  its 
fabric,  by  which  the  channel  of  continuous  communication  is 
effectually  interrupted.  After  such  interruption  has  taken 
place,  the  still  surviving  portions  of  the  tree  are  capable  of 
furnishing  layers  or  cuttings,  which  will  renew  the  opera- 
tion of  vegetation  with  unabated  vigour. 

The  resources  of  nature  are  far  from  being  exhausted  by 
these  apparent  buds ;  there  exists  throughout  the  vegetable 
system  a  creative  and  expansive  power,  which,  according  to 
circumstances,  is  able  to  operate  in  the  development  of  new 
buds,  where  none  had  been  visible  before.  In  fact,  there  is 
always  an  abundance  of  rudimentary  buds  dispersed  among 
the  substance  of  a  tree,  which  are  only  called  into  action 
when  the  ordinary  resources  of  nature  begin  to  fail.  They 
are  frequently  excited  very  long  after  the  period  which  had 
been  originally  assigned  for  their  appearance;  and  even  in 
places  where  no  traces  of  them  could  have  been  expected 
to  exist.  Thus  in  all  vegetables  there  appears  to  be  as 
obvious  a  line  of  demarcation  in  the  system,  at  that  point 
which  is  called  the  collar,  whence  the  first  ascending  fibres 
direct  their  course  upwards,  and  the  descending  downwards. 
Buds  are  only  produced  by  the  former,  and  form  no  part  of 
the  economy  of  the  latter.  Yet  it  not  unfrequently  happens, 
that  roots  exposed  in  a  proper  degree  to  the  influence  of  the 
air  will  form  buds,  and  throw  up  shoots,  in  the  same  way  as 
the  branches.  Even  the  leaves  have,  in  a  few  cases,  a  simi- 
lar power  of  producing  buds,  and  consequently  young  plants. 


2-22 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY. 


We  have  now  seen  that  the  growth  of  plants,  and  their 
increase  in  size,  depend  upon  a  peculiar  internal  movement, 
acting  between  the  leaves  and  the  roots.  But  in  what  way 
does  it  operate?  This  is  a  problem  which  has  exercised  the 
ingenuity  of  all  students  of  vegetable  physiology,  who  have 
contrived  theories  innumerable  to  explain  the  phenomenon 
which  is  called  the  circulation  of  the  sap. 

The  great  and  almost  impenetrable  obscurity  in  which 
this  subject  is  unavoidably  involved,  has  occasioned  much 
diversity  of  opinion  among  phytologists.  Grew  states  two 
hypothesis,  which  he  seems  to  have  entertained  at  different 
periods,  though  it  is  not  quite  certain  to  which  of  them  he 
finally  gave  the  preference.  In  one  of  them  he  attributes 
the  ascent  of  the  sap  to  its  volatile  and  magnetic  nature, 
aided  by  the  agency  of  fermentation ;  but  this  hypothesis 
is  by  much  too  fanciful  to  bear  the  test  of  serious  investiga- 
tion. In  the  other  he  attributes  the  entrance  and  first  stage 
of  the  sap's  ascent  to  the  agency  of  capillary  attraction,  and 
accounts  for  its  progress  as  follows:  the  portion  of  the  tube 
that  is  now  swelled  vsrith  sap,  being  surrounded  with  the 
vesiculse  of  the  parenchyma,  swelled  also  with  sap,  which 
they  have  taken  up  by  suction  or  filtration,  is  consequently 
so  compressed,  that  the  sap  therein  is  forced  upwards  a 
second  stage,  and  so  on  till  it  reaches  the  summit  of  the 
plants.  But,  if  the  vesiculse  of  the  parenchyma  receive 
their  moisture  only  by  suction  or  filtration,  it  is  plain  that 
there  is  a  stage  of  ascent  beyond  which  they  cannot  be  thus 
moistened,  and  cannot,  consequently,  act  any  longer  upon 
the  longitudinal  tubes.  The  supposed  cause,  therefore,  is 
inadequate  to  the  production  of  the  effect. 

Malpighi  was  of  opinion  that  the  sap  ascends  by  means 
of  the  contraction  and  dilatation  of  the  air  contained  in  the 
air  vessels.  This  supposition  is  perhaps  somewhat  more 
plausible  than  either  of  Grew's;  but,  in  order  to  render  the 
cause  efficient,  it  was  necessary  that  the  tubes  should  be 
furnished  with  valves,  which  were  accordingly  supposed; 
but  of  which  the  existence  has  been  totally  disproved  by 
succeeding  phytologists.  If  the  stem  or  branch  of  a  plant 
is  cut  transversely,  in  the  bleeding  season,  it  will  bleed  a 
little  from  above  as  well  as  from  below:  and  if  the  stem  of 
any  species  of  spurge  is  cut  in  two,  a  milky  juice  will  exude 
from  both  sections  in  almost  any  season  of  the  year.  Also 
if  a  plant  is  inverted,  the  stem  will  become  a  root,  and  the 
root  a  stem  and  branches,  the  sap  ascending  equ.dly  well 
in  a  contrary  direction  through  the  same  vessels;  as  may 
readily  be  proved  by  planting  a  willow  twig  in  an  inverted 
position.  But  these  facts  are  totally  incompatible  with  the 
exislxjnce  of  valves;  and  the  opinion  of  Malpighi  is  conse- 
quently proved  to  be  groundless. 

The  next  hypothesis  is  that  of  M.  De  la  Hire,  who  seems 
to  have  attempted  to  account  for  the  phenomenon  by  com- 


bining together  the  theories  of  Grew  and  Malpighi.  Be- 
lieving that  the  absorption  of  the  sap  was  occasioned  by  the 
spongy  parenchyma,  which  envelopes  the  longitudinal  tubes, 
he  tried  to  illustrate  the  subject  by  means  of  the  experiment 
of  making  water  to  ascend  in  coarse  paper,  which  it  did 
readily  to  the  height  of  six  inches,  and  by  particular  man- 
agement even  to  the  height  of  eighteen  inches.  But,  in 
order  to  complete  the  theory,  valves  were  also  found  to  be 
necessary,  and  were  accordingly  summoned  to  its  aid.  The 
sap  which  was  thus  absorbed  by  the  root,  was  supposed  to 
ascend  through  the  woody  fibre,  by  the  force  of  suction,  to 
a  certain  height;  that  is,  till  it  got  above  the  first  set  of 
valves,  which  prevented  its  return  backwards;  when  it  was 
again  supposed  to  be  attracted  as  far  before,  till  it  got  to  the 
second  set  of  valves,  and  so  on  till  it  got  to  the  top  of  the 
plant. 

This  theory  was  afterwards  adopted  by  Borelli,  who  en- 
deavoured to  render  it  more  perfect,  by  bringing  to  its  aid 
the  influence  of  the  condensation  and  rarefaction  of  the  air 
and  juices  of  the  plant,  as  a  cause  of  the  sap's  ascent.  And 
on  this  principle  he  endeavoured  also  to  account  for  the 
greater  force  of  vegetation  in  the  spring  and  autumn;  be- 
cause the  changes  of  the  atmosphere  are  then  the  most  fre- 
quent under  a  moderate  temperature;  while  in  the  summer 
and  winter  the  changes  of  the  atmosphere  are  but  few,  and 
the  air  and  juices  either  too  much  rarefied,  or  too  much  con- 
densed, so  that  the  movement  of  the  sap  is  thus  at  least 
prejudicially  retarded,  if  not  perhaps  wholly  suspended. 
But  as  this  theory,  with  all  its  additional  modifications,  is 
still  but  a  combination  of  the  theories  of  Grew  and  Mal- 
pighi, it  cannot  be  regarded  as  afibrding  a  satisfactory  solu- 
tion of  the  phenomenon  of  the  sap's  ascent. 

With  this  impression  upon  his  mind,  and  with  the  best 
qualifications  for  the  undertaking,  Du  Hamel  directed  his 
efforts  to  the  solution  of  the  difficulty,  by  endeavouring  to 
account  for  the  phenomenon  from  the  agencj'  of  heat,  and 
chiefly  on  the  following  grounds:  because  the  sap  begins  to 
flow  more  copiously  as  the  warmth  of  spring  returns;  be- 
cause the  sap  is  sometimes  found  to  flow  on  the  south  side 
of  a  tree  before  it  flows  on  the  north  side ;  that  is,  on  the 
side  exposed  to  the  influence  of  the  sun's  heat  sooner  than 
on  the  side  deprived  of  it ;  because  plants  may  be  made  to 
vegetate  even  in  winter,  by  means  of  forcing  them  in  a  hot- 
house; and  because  plants  raised  in  a  hot-house  produce  their 
fruit  earlier  than  such  as  vegetate  in  the  open  air. 

On  this  intricate  but  important  subject,  Linnaeus  appears 
to  have  embraced  the  opinion  of  Du  Hamel,  or  an  opinion 
very  nearly  allied  to  it,  but  does  not  seem  to  have  strength- 
ened it  by  any  new  accession  of  argument,  so  that  none  of 
the  hitherto  alleged  causes  can  be  regarded  as  adequate  to 
the  production  of  the  efl'ect. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


According  to  Saussure,  the  cause  of  the  sap's  ascent  is  to 
be  found  in  a  peculiar  species  cl'  irritability,  inherent  in  the 
sap  vessels  themselves,  and  dependant  upon  vegetable  life; 
in  consequence  of  which  they  are  rendered  capable  of  a 
certain  degree  of  contraction,  according;  as  the  internal 
surface  is  affected  by  the  application  of  stimuli,  as  well  as 
of  subsequent  dilatation,  according  as  the  action  of  the 
stimulus  subsides:  .hus  admitting  and  propelling  the  sap 
by  alternate  dilatation  and  contraction.  In  order  to  give 
elucidation  to  the  subject,  let  the  tube  be  supposed  to  con- 
sist of  an  indefinite  number  of  hollow  cylinders,  united  one 
to  another,  and  let  the  sap  be  supposed  to  enter  the  first 
cylinder  by  suction,  or  by  capillary  attraction,  or  by  any 
other  adequate  means;  then  the  first  cylinder,  being  ex- 
cited by  the  stimulus  of  the  sap,  begins  gradually  to  contract, 
and  to  propel  the  contained  fluid  into  the  cylinder  imme- 
diately above  it.  But  the  cylinder  immediately  above  it, 
when  acted  on  in  the  same  manner,  is  affected  in  the  same 
manner;  and  thus  the  fluid  is  propelled  from  cylinder  to 
cylinder,  till  it  reaches  the  summit  of  the  plant.  So  also, 
when  the  first  cylinder  has  discharged  its  contents  into  the 
second,  and  is  no  longer  acted  upon  by  the  stimulus  of  the 
sap,  it  begins  again  to  be  dilated  in  its  original  capacity, 
and  prepared  for  the  introsusception  of  a  new  portion  of 
fluid.  Thus  a  supply  is  constantly  kept  up,  and  the  sap 
continues  to  flow. 

But  Mr.  Knight  has  presented  us  with  another,  which, 
whatever  may  be  its  real  value,  merits  at  least  our  par- 
ticular notice,  as  coming  from  an  author  who  stands  de- 
servedly high  in  the  list  of  phytological  writers.  This 
theory  rests  upon  the  principle  of  the  contraction  and  dila- 
tation, not  of  the  sap  vessels  themselves,  as  in  the  theory  of 
Saussure,  but  of  what  Mr.  Knight  denominates  the  silver 
grain,  assisted  perhaps  by  heat  and  humidity,  expanding  or 
condensing  the  fluids.  On  the  transverse  section  of  the 
trunk  of  woody  plants,  particularly  the  oak,  they  appear  in 
the  form  of  the  radii  of  a  circle,  extending  from  the  pith  to 
the  bark;  and  on  the  longitudinal  cleft  or  fissure  of  the 
trunk  of  most  trees,  but  particularly  the  elm,  they  appear 
in  the  form  of  fragments  of  thin  and  vertical  laminae,  or 
plates,  interlacing  the  ascending  tubes  in  a  transverse  di- 
rection, and  touching  them  at  short  intervals,  so  as  to  form 
with  them  a  sort  of  irregular  wicker-work,  or  to  exhibit 
the  resemblance  of  a  sort  of  web.  Such,  then,  being  the 
close  and  complicated  union  of  the  plates  and  longitudinal 
tubes,  the  propulsion  of  the  sap  in  the  latter  may  be  easily 
accounted  for,  as  it  is  thought,  by  means  of  the  alternate 
contraction  and  dilatation  of  the  former,  if  we  will  but  allow 
them  to  be  susceptible  to  change  of  temperature;  which 
susceptibility  is  proved,  as  it  is  also  thought,  from  the  fol- 
lowing facts:  on  the  surface  of  an  oaken  plant  that  was 


exposed  to  the  influence  of  the  sun's  rays,  the  transverse 
layers  were  observed  to  be  so  considerably  affected  by 
change  of  temperature  as  to  suggest  a  belief  tnat  organs 
which  were  still  so  restless,  now  that  the  tree  was  dead, 
could  not  have  been  formed  to  be  altogether  idle  while  it 
was  alive.  Accordingly,  on  the  surface  of  the  trunk  of  an 
oak  deprived  of  part  of  its  bark,  the  longitudinal  clefts  and 
fissures,  which  were  perceptible  during  the  day,  were  found 
to  close  during  the  night.  But  in  the  act  of  dilating  they 
must  press  unavoidably  on  the  longitudinal  tubes,  and  con- 
sequently propel  the  sap;  while  in  the  act  of  contracting 
they  again  allow  the  tubes  to  expand  and  take  in  a  new  sup- 
ply.    This  is  the  substance  of  the  theory. 

But,  in  drawing  this  grand  and  sweeping  conclusion, 
Keith  has  well  remarked,  that  it  should  have  been  recol- 
lected, that  change  of  temperature  cannot  act  upon  the 
transverse  layers  of  a  tree  that  is  covered  with  its  bark,  in 
the  same  manner  as  it  acts  upon  those  o^  a  tree  that  is 
stripped  of  its  bark ;  or  upon  those  of  a  plank ;  and  if  it 
were  even  found  to  act  equally  upon  both,  still  its  action 
would  be  but  of  little  avail.  For,  according  to  what  law 
is  the  machinery  of  the  plates  to  be  contracted  and  dilated, 
so  as  to  give  impulse  to  the  sap?  According  to  the  alternate 
succession  of  heat  and  humidity?  But  this  is  by  much  too 
precarious  an  rlternation  to  account  for  the  constant,  and 
often  rapid,  propulsion  of  the  sap,  especially  at  the  season 
of  bleeding.  For  there  may  be  too  long  a  continuance  of 
heat,  or  the  e  maj  be  too  long  a  continuance  of  humidity; 
and  what  is  to  become  of  the  plant  during  this  interval  of 
alternation  ?  If  we  are  to  regard  it  as  happening  only  once 
in  the  space  of  twenty-four  hours,  as  in  the  case  of  the  oak, 
it  can  never  be  of  much  eflicacy  in  aiding  the  propulsion  of 
the  sap.  But  if  we  should  even  grant  more,  and  admit  the 
alternate  contraction  and  dilatation  of  the  vessels  to  be  as 
frequent  as  you  please,  still  their  effect  would  be  extremely 
doubtful,  owing  to  a  want  of  unity  or  co-operation  in  the 
action  of  different  plates,  or  of  different  portions  of  the  same 
plate.  If  heat,  like  humidity,  entered  the  plant  by  the  root, 
and  proceeded  gradually  upwards,  like  the  ascending  sap, 
perhaps  it  might  be  somewhat  efficacious  in  carrying  a  por- 
tion of  sap  along  with  it;  but  as  this  is  not  the  case,  and  as 
the  roots  of  plants  are  but  little  affected  by  change  of  tem- 
perature, while  the  trunk  and  upper  parts  may  be  affected 
considerably,  it  can  scarcely  be  supposed  that  the  action  of 
the  plates  will  be  uniform  throughout  tiie  whole  plant;  or 
rather,  it  must  be  supposed,  that  it  will  nften  be  directly  in 
opposition  to  that  which  is  necessary  to  the  propulsion  of 
the  sap.  But,  admitting  that  the  sap  is  propelled  by  the 
agency  of  the  plates  in  question,  and  ad.mitting  that  it  has 
been  thus  raised  to  the  extremity  of  the  woody  part  of  the 
plant,  how  are  we  to  account  for  its  ascent  in  such  parts 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAT.  HTSTORY 


as  are  yet  higher ;  the  leaf-stalk  and  leaf,  the  flower-stalk 
and  flower ;  as  well  as  in  the  herb  also,  and  in  the  lofty- 
palm,  in  which  no  such  plates  exist?  Here  it  will  be  ne- 
cessary to  introduce  the  agency  of  a  new  cause,  to  com- 
plete the  work  that  has  been  thus  begun,  and  of  a  new  set 
of  machinery  to  supply  the  deficiency  or  absence  of  the  ma- 
chinery that  has  been  already  invented. 

How  unsatisfactory  the  best  of  these  theories  is,  must  be 
self-evident,  even  to  persons  unacquainted  with  the  struc- 
ture of  vegetables.  Du  Petit  Thouars  has,  therefore,  pro- 
posed a  new  hypothesis,  which  to  us  seems  by  far  the  least 
objectionable.  He  dismisses  the  question  of  the  mechanical 
action  by  which  the  motion  of  the  sap  is  maintained;  think- 
ing, with  much  justice,  that  no  principle  of  physics,  with 
which  we  are  acquainted,  is  sufficient  to  explain  it,  and  he 
therefore  attributes  the  mere  motion  to  an  inherent  power, 
with  which  nature  has  been  pleased  to  endow  vegetables. 
But  the  cause  of  the  renewal  of  its  motion  in  the  spring, 
after  remaining  in  a  quiescent  state  for  several  months,  he 
ascribes  to  the  necessity  of  maintaining  a  perfect  equi- 
librium in  the  system  of  a  plant.  So  that,  if  a  consumption 
of  sap  is  produced  at  any  given  point,  the  necessity  of 
making  good  the  space  so  occasioned,  consequently  throws 
all  the  particles  of  sap  into  motion,  and  the  same  effect  will 
continue  to  operate  as  long  as  any  consumption  of  sap  takes 
place.  The  first  cause  of  this  consumption  of  sap  he  de- 
clares to  be  the  development  of  the  buds,  and  already 
formed  young  leaves,  by  the  stimulating  action  of  light  and 
heat,  but  particularly  of  the  latter.  As  soon  as  this  deve- 
lopment occurs,  an  assimilation  and  absorption  of  sap  is 
occasioned,  for  the  support  of  the  young  leaves;  a  vacancy 
in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  leaves  is  produced,  and 
motion  immediately  takes  place. 

We  will  not  occupy  ourselves  with  an  explanation  of  the 
cause  of  the  descent  of  the  sap :  gravitation  will  serve  the 
purpose,  in  the  room  of  a  more  plausible  conjecture. 

But,  notwithstanding  all  the  differences  which  exist 
among  trees,  they  approach  each  other  by  insensible  de- 
grees; and  yet  they  individually  retain  a  peculiar  set  of 
characters,  and  a  physiognomy,  which  botanists  call  habit, 
that  renders  it  easy  to  distinguish  them  at  great  distances; 
and  more  easy  to  eyes  habituated  to  the  sight  of  them,  by 
practice  and  long  familiarity,  than  by  the  aid  of  theory. 

Buffon's  Nat.  Hist. 


CARBONATED  SPRINGS. 

Carbonic  acid  gas  is  very  plentifully  disengaged  from 
springs  in  almost  all  countries,  but  particularly  near  active 
or  extinct  volcanos.     This  elastic  fluid  has  the  property  of 


decomposing  many  of  the  hardest  rocks  with  which  ft 
comes  in  contact,  particularly  that  numerous  class  in  whose 
composition  felspar  is  an  ingredient.  It  renders  the  oxide 
of  iron  soluble  in  water,  and  contributes,  as  was  before 
stated,  to  the  solution  of  calcareous  matter.  In  volcanic 
districts,  these  gaseous  emanations  are  not  confined  to 
springs,  but  rise  up  in  the  state  of  pure  gas  from  the  soil  in 
various  places.  The  Grotto  delle  Cane,  near  Naples,  af- 
fords an  example,  and  prodigious  quantities  are  now  annu- 
ally disengaged  from  every  part  of  the  Limagne  d'Auvergne, 
where  it  appears  to  have  been  developed  in  equal  quantity 
from  time  immemorial.  As  the  acid  is  invisible,  it  is  not 
observed,  except  an  excavation  be  made,  wherein  it  imme- 
diately accumulates  so  that  it  will  extinguish  a  candle. 
There  are  some  springs  in  this  district,  where  the  water  is 
seen  bubbling  and  boiling  up  with  much  noise,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  abundant  disengagement  of  this  gas.  The 
whole  vegetation  is  affected,  and  many  trees,  such  as  the 
walnut,  flourish  more  luxuriantly  than  they  would  other- 
wise do  in  the  same  soil  and  climate, — the  leaves  probably 
absorbing  carbonic  acid.  This  gas  is  found  in  springs  rising 
through  the  granite  near  Clermont,  as  well  as  in  the  ter- 
tiary limestones  of  the  Limagne.  In  the  environs  of  Pont- 
Gibaud,  not  far  from  Clermont,  a  rock  belonging  to  the 
gneiss  formation,  in  which  lead-mines  are  worked,  has 
been  found  to  be  quite  saturated  with  carbonic  acid  gas, 
which  is  constantly  disengaged.  The  carbonates  of  iron, 
lime,  and  manganese  are  so  dissolved,  that  the  rock  is  ren- 
dered soft,  and  the  quartz  alone  remains  unattacked.  Not 
far  off  is  the  small  volcanic  cone  of  Chaluzet,  which  once 
broke  up  through  the  gneiss,  and  sent  forth  a  lava  stream. 

The  disintegration  of  granite  is  a  striking  feature  of  large 
districts  in  Auvergne,  especially  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Clermont.  This  decay  was  called,  by  Dolomieu,  "la  ma- 
ladie  du  granite;"  and  the  rock  may  with  propriety  be  said 
to  have  the  rot,  for  it  crumbles  to  pieces  in  the  hand.  The 
phenomenon  may,  without  doubt,  be  ascribed  to  the  conti- 
nual disengagement  of  carbonic  acid  gas  from  numerous 
fissure?.  In  the  plains  of  the  Po,  between  Verona  and 
Parma,  especially  at  Villa  Franca,  south  of  Mantua,  I  ob- 
served great  beds  of  alluvium,  consisting  chiefly  of  primary 
pebbles  percolated  by  spring  water,  charged  with  carbonate 
of  lime  and  carbonic  acid  in  great  abundance.  They  are, 
for  the  most  part,  encrusted  with  calc-sinter;  and  the 
rounded  blocks  of  gneiss,  which  have  all  the  appearance  of 
solidity,  have  been  so  disintegrated  by  the  carbonic  acid  as 
readily  to  fall  to  pieces.  The  Po  and  other  rivers,  in  wind- 
ing through  this  plain,  might  now  remove  with  ease  those 
masses  wliich,  at  a  more  remote  period,  the  stream  was 
unable  to  carry  farther  towards  the  sea;  and  in  this  exam- 
ple we  may  perceive  how  necessary  it  is,  in  reasoning  on 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


the  transporting  power  of  running  water,  to  consider  all  the 
numerous  agents  which  may  co-operate  in  the  lapse  of  ages, 
in  conveying  the  wreck  of  mountains  to  the  sea.  A  gra- 
nite block  might  remain  stationary  for  ages,  and  defy  the 
power  of  a  large  river;  till  at  length  a  small  spring  may 
break  out,  surcharged  with  carbonic  acid, — the  rock  may 
be  decomposed,  and  a  streamlet  may  transport  the  whole 
mass  to  the  ocean. 

The  subtraction  of  many  of  the  elements  of  rocks  by  the 
solvent  power  of  carbonic  acid,  ascending  both  in  a  gaseous 
state  and  mixed  with  spring-water  in  the  crevices  of  rocks, 
must  be  one  of  the  most  powerful  sources  of  those  internal 
changes  and  re-arrangement  of  particles  so  often  observed 
in  strata  of  every  age.  The  calcareous  matter,  for  example, 
of  shells,  is  often  entirely  removed  and  replaced  by  carbo- 
nate of  iron,  pyrites,  or  silex,  or  some  other  ingredient,  such 
as  mineral  waters  usually  contain  in  solution.  It  rarely 
happens,  except  in  limestone  rocks,  that  the  carbonic  acid 
can  dissolve  all  the  constituent  parts  of  the  mass;  and  for 
this  reason,  probably,  calcareous  rocks  are  almost  the  only 
ones  in  which  great  caverns  and  long  winding  passages  are 
found.  The  grottos  and  subterranean  passages,  in  certain 
lava-currents,  are  due  to  a  different  cause,  and  will  be  spo- 
ken of  in  another  place.  Lyell's  Geology. 


ERUPTION  OF  JORULLO  IN  1759. 

As  another  example  of  the  stupendous  scale  of  modern 
volcanic  eruptions,  we  may  mention  that  of  Jorullo,  in 
Mexico,  in  1759.  We  have  already  described  the  great 
region  to  which  this  mountain  belongs.  The  plain  of  Mal- 
pais  forms  part  of  an  elevated  plateau,  between  two  and 
three  thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  and  is  bound- 
ed by  hills  composed  of  basalt,  trachyte,  and  volcanic  tuff, 
dearly  indicating  that  the  country  had  previously,  though 
probably  at  a  remote  period,  been  the  theatre  of  igneous 
action.  From  the  era  of  the  discovery  of  the  New  World 
to  the  middle  of  the  last  century,  the  district  had  remained 
undisturbed,  and  the  space,  now  the  site  of  the  volcano, 
which  is  thirty-six  leagues  distant  from  the  nearest  sea,  was 
occupied  by  fertile  fields  of  .sugar-cane  and  indigo,  and  wa- 
tered by  the  two  brooks  Cuitimba  and  San  Pedro.  In  the 
month  of  June,  1759,  hollow  sounds  of  an  alarming  nature 
were  heard,  and  earthquakes  succeeded  each  other  for  two 
months,  until,  in  September,  flames  issued  from  the  ground, 
and  fragments  of  burning  rocks  were  thrown  to  prodigious 
heights.  Six  volcanic  cones,  composed  of  scorias  and  frag- 
mentary lava,  were  formed  on  the  line  of  a  chasm  which 
ran  in  the  direction  from  N.N.E.  to  S.S.W.  The  least  of 
3  L 


these  cones  was  three  hundred  feet  in  height,  and  Jorullo, 
the  central  volcano,  was  elevated  one  thousand  six  hundred 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  plain.  It  sent  forth  great  streams 
of  basaltic  lava,  containing  included  fragments  of  primitive 
rocks,  and  its  ejections  did  not  cease  till  the  month  of  Fe- 
bruary, 1760.  Humboldt  visited  the  country  twenty  years 
after  the  occurrence,  and  was  informed  by  the  Indians, 
that  when  they  returned  long  after  the  catastrophe  to  the 
plain,  they  found  the  ground  uninhabitable  from  the  exces- 
sive heat.  When  the  Prussian  traveller  himself  visited  the 
locality,  there  appeared,  round  the  base  of  the  cones,  and 
spreading  from  them  as  from  a  centre  over  an  extent  of  four 
square  miles,  a  mass  of  matter  five  hundred  and  fifty  feet  in 
height,  in  a  convex  form,  gradually  sloping  in  all  directions 
towards  the  plain.  This  mass  was  still  in  a  heated  state, 
the  temperature  in  the  fissures  being  sufficient  to  light  a 
cigar  at  the  depth  of  a  few  inches.  On  this  convex  protu- 
berance were  thousands  of  flattish  conical  mounds,  from  six 
to  nine  feet  high,  which,  as  well  as  large  fissures  traversing 
the  plain,  acted  as  fumeroles,  giving  out  clouds  of  sulphuric 
acid  and  hot  aqueous  vapour.  The  two  small  rivers  before 
mentioned  disappeared  during  the  eruption,  losing  them- 
selves below  the  eastern  extremity  of  the  plain,  and  re-ap- 
pearing as  hot  springs  at  its  western  limit.  Humboldt 
attributed  the  convexity  of  the  plain  to  inflation  from  below, 
supposing  the  ground,  for  four  square  miles  in  extent,  to 
have  risen  up  in  the  shape  of  a  bladder,  to  the  elevation  of 
five  hundred  and  fifty  feet  above  the  plain  in  the  highest 
part.  But  this  theory,  which  is  entirely  unsupported  by 
analogy,  is  by  no  means  borne  out  by  the  facts  described; 
and  it  is  the  more  necessary  to  scrutinize  closely  the  proofs 
relied  on,  because  the  opinion  of  Humboldt  appears  to  have 
been  received  as  if  founded  on  direct  observation,  and  has 
been  made  the  groundwork  of  other  bold  and  extraordinary 
theories.  Mr.  Scrope  has  suggested  that  the  phenomena 
may  be  accounted  for  far  more  naturally,  by  supposing  that 
lava  flowing  simultaneously  from  the  different  orifices,  and 
principally  from  Jorullo,  united  into  a  sort  of  pool  or  lake. 
As  they  were  poured  forth  on  a  surface  previously  flat,  they 
would,  if  their  liquidity  was  not  very  great,  remain  thickest 
and  deepest  near  their  source,  and  diminish  in  bulk  from 
thence  towards  the  limits  of  the  space  which  they  covered. 
Fresh  supplies  were  probably  emitted  successively  during 
the  course  of  an  eruption  which  lasted  a  year,  and  some  of 
these  resting  on  those  first  emitted,  might  only  spread  to  a 
small  distance  from  the  foot  of  the  cone,  where  they  would 
necessarily  accumulate  to  a  great  height. 

The  showers,  also,  of  loose  and  pulverulent  matter  from 
the  six  craters,  and  principally  from  Jorullo,  would  be  com- 
posed of  heavier  and  more  bulky  particles  near  the  cones, 
and  would  raise  the  ground  at  their  base,  where,  mixing 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


with  rain,  they  might  have  given  rise  to  the  stratum  of 
black  clay  which  is  described  as  covering  the  lava.  The 
small  conical  mounds  (called  "hornitos"  or  ovens)  may 
resemble  those  five  or  six  small  hillocks  which  existed  in 
1S23,  on  the  Vesuvian  lava,  and  sent  forth  columns  of  va- 
pour, having  been  produced  by  the  disengagement  of  elastic 
fluids  heaving  up  small  dome-shaped  masses  of  lava.  The 
fissures  mentioned  by  Humboldt  as  of  frequent  occurrence, 
are  such  as  might  naturally  accompany  the  consolidation  of 
a  thick  bed  of  lava,  contracting  as  it  congeals;  and  the 
disappearance  of  rivers  is  the  usual  result  of  the  occupation 
of  the  lower  part  of  a  valley  or  plain  by  lava,  of  which  there 
arc  many  beautiful  examples  in  the  old  lava-currents  of 
Auvergne.  The  heat  of  the  "hornitos"  is  stated  to  have 
diminished  from  the  first,  and  Mr.  Bullock,  who  visited 
the  spot  many  years  after  Humboldt,  found  the  temperature 
of  the  hot  spring  very  low,  a  fact  which  seems  clearly  to 
indicate  the  gradual  congelation  of  a  subjacent  bed  of  lava, 
which,  from  its  immense  thickness,  may  have  been  enabled 
to  retain  its  heat  for  half  a  century. 

Another  argument  adduced  in  support  of  the  theory  of 
inflation  from  below,  was  the  hollow  sound  made  by  the  steps 
of  a  horse  upon  the  plain,  which,  however,  proves  nothing 
more  than  that  the  materials  of  which  the  convex  mass  is 
composed  are  light  and  porous.  The  sound  called  "  rini- 
bombo"  by  the  Italians,  is  very  commonly  returned  by 
made  ground,  when  struck  sharply,  and  has  been  observed 
not  only  on  the  sides  of  Vesuvius  and  other  volcanic  cones 
where  there  is  a  cavity  below,  but  in  plains  such  as  the 
Campagna  di  Roma,  composed  in  great  measure  of  tuff  and 
porous  volcanic  rocks.  The  reverberation,  however,  may, 
perhaps,  be  assisted  by  grottos  and  caverns,  for  these  may 
be  as  numerous  in  the  lavas  of  Jorullo,  as  in  many  of  those 
of  jEtna:  but  their  existence  would  lend  no  countenance  to 
the  hypothesis  of  a  great  arched  cavity,  or  bubble,  four 
square  miles  in  extent,  and  in  the  centre  five  hundred  and 
fifty  feet  high.  A  subsequent  eruption  of  Jorullo  happened 
in  1S19,  accompanied  by  an  earthquake;  but  unfortunately 
no  European  travellers  have  since  visited  the  spot,  and 
the  only  facts  hitherto  known  are  that  ashes  fell  at  the 
city  of  Guanaxuato,  which  is  distant  about  one  hundred  and 
forty  English  miles  from  Jorullo,  in  such  quantities  as  to 
lie  six  inches  deep  in  the  streets,  and  the  tower  of  the  cathe- 
dral of  Guadalaxara  was  thrown  down.  Lyell. 


BLACK  GROUSE. 


The  Black  Grouse,  black  game,  or  black  cock,  [tetrao 
tetrix,^  though  inferior  in  size  to  the  cock  of  the  woods,  is 


still  a  bird  of  considerable  dimensions,  being  much  larger 
than  the  red  grouse;  and  when  full-grown,  larger  than  the 
pheasant.  The  black  cock  is  a  very  handsome  bird;  the 
general  colour  is  black,  but  it  is  irridescent,  and  in  certain 
positions  of  the  light  shows  a  very  fine  purple.  The  tail  is 
very  much  forked,  the  outside  feathers  curled,  and  the 
lower  part,  towards  the  base,  white.  Upon  the  throat  there 
is  a  kind  of  down,  but  no  long  or  regularly-formed  feathers. 
The  length  of  the  male  bird  is  about  twenty-eight  inches, 
and  the  extent  of  the  wings  nearly  three  feet;  and  the  weight 
between  three  and  four  pounds.  The  female  is  a  much 
smaller  bird,  and  has  not  the  curled  feathers  in  the  tail. 

Though  the  places  at  which  the  Black  Grouse  is  found  are 
not  quite  so  elevated — so  near  to  the  summits  of  the  moun- 
tains as  the  habitations  of  the  ptarmigan — it  is  a  bird  fond  of 
wild  and  secluded  spots:  and  its  numbers  in  these  islands 
are  very  fast  declining.  What  with  improvements  of  land, 
and  improvements  in  the  arts  of  its  destruction,  it  is  not 
nearly  so  abundant  in  England  as  it  was  formerly;  though 
it  be  still  met  with  in  the  more  elevated  and  secluded  places 
in  the  south  of  England,  in  Staffordshire,  in  North  Wales, 
and  generally  where  there  are  high  and  lonely  moors.  In 
the  Alpine  parts  of  Scotland  it  is  more  abundant,  though 
the  introduction  of  sheep,  generally,  upon  the  mountains, 
is  said  to  be  diminishing  the  numbers.  The  black  cocks 
are  more  frequently  found  in  the  woods  than  the  red  grouse, 
though  the  moors,  with  a  diflerence  of  elevation,  be  the 
favorite  abodes  of  both.  Their  food  is  also  similar;  consist- 
ing of  mountain-berries,  the  tops  of  heath,  and  the  buds  of 
pine  and  other  Alpine  trees.  Though  they  seek  their  food 
in  the  open  places  during  the  day,  they,  where  they  have 
the  accommodation  of  trees,  perch  during  the  night  like 
pheasants.  It  is  chiefly  during  the  winter  months,  how- 
ever, and  the  early  parts  of  spring,  when  all  food,  save  the 
tops  of  the  pines,  is  hidden  under  the  snow,  that  they  do 
that;  for  when  the  breeding  season  commences,  they  assem- 
ble on  the  tops  of  the  mountains  and  highest  parts  of  the 
moors,  but  never  higher  than  they  can  find  heath;  the  young 
shoots  and  embryo  blossoms  of  which  are  at  that  time  their 
principal  food. 

Some  parts  of  their  character  resemble  that  of  common 
poultry.  They  do  not  pair;  but  when  the  breeding  season 
commences,  the  cocks  ascend  to  the  tops  of  the  mountains, 
and  clap  their  wings  and  crow;  to  which  call  the  females  an- 
swer, by  making  their  appearance,  and  uttering  a  sort  of 
clucking  sound.  War  immediately  ensues  among  the 
males,  as  each  is  anxious  to  have  in  his  train  as  m.any 
females  as  possible.  Their  heels  are  armed  with  spurs: 
their  mode  of  fighting  is  the  same  as  that  of  game-cocks, 
and  they  enter  upon  the  strife  with  the  same  devotedness. 
Although  upon  other  occasions  they  are  among  the  shyest  of 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


227 


birds,  they  are  then  so  intent  upon  the  victory  in  their  own 
battle,  that  they  do  not  heed  the  approach  of  strangers.  Not 
only  may  all  that  are  within  the  spread  of  a  musket-shot  be 
killed  at  one  shot,  but  they  may  be  struck  a  second  time 
with  a  stick,  so  eager  are  they  for  victory  among  themselves. 
The  nests,  like  those  of  most  of  the  gallinaceous  birds,  are 
rude;  the  eggs  are  usually  six  or  seven;  they  are  of  a  yel- 
lowish white,  dotted  with  very  minute  ferruginous  specks; 
and  about  the  size  of  those  of  the  pheasant.  The  young 
are  produced  rather  late  in  the  season,  but  as  there  is  then 
plenty  of  food,  they  grow  rapidly.  In  their  early  stage 
they  follow  the  mother,  and  nestle  under  her  wings  in  some 
safe  place  during  the  night;  but  after  about  five  weeks,  they 
have  acquired  so  much  strength  and  use  of  their  wings  as  to 
be  able  to  perch  along  with  her.  As  the  winter  sets  in,  the 
diflerent  families  leave  their  mothers,  and  the  whole  assem- 
ble in  flocks  like  the  red  grouse.  They  are  never,  so  far  as 
our  observation  has  gone,  found,  like  those,  even  in  the 
margins  of  the  cultivated  fields,  but  continue  in  the  moun- 
tains during  the  winter;  finding,  as  is  supposed,  their  food 
under  the  snow,  and  being  also  often  found  in  their  retreats 
by  beasts  and  birds  of  prey. 

When  the  snow  begins  to  fall  heavy,  the  black  grouse 
betake  themselves  to  the  shelter  of  tall  heath,  juniper,  or 
any  other  plant,  that  will  afford  them  cover  while  the  vio- 
lent wind,  with  which  falls  of  snow  are  usually  accompained 
in  Alpine  districts,  lasts;  or  they  roost  under  the  thick  bran- 
ches of  the  pines,  in  situations  where  they  have  access  to 
these.  Even  upon  the  pines,  the  snow  forms  a  close  canopy, 
which  lasts  for  a  considerable  time,  while  below  there  is  a 
sufficiency  of  air  for  the  breathing  of  the  bird.  In  the  shel- 
ter of  the  bushes  they  are  obliged,  like  the  white  hares  and 
other  inhabitants  of  the  mountains,  to  open  breathing  holes 
for  themselves;  and  while  they  are  pent  up  in  their  habita- 
tions of  snow,  the  tops  of  the  heather,  or  leaves  of  the  bush, 
find  them  in  food.  When  the  surface  becomes  hard  [which 
it  does  in  no  great  length  of  time  after  the  fall  of  snow  is 
over,  in  consequence  of  the  softening  of  the  surface  by  the 
action  of  the  sun,  and  the  congealing  of  it  again  at  night,  till 
it  is  converted  into  a  crust  of  smooth  ice,  and  reflects  off  the 
greater  part  of  the  solar  heat  obliquely,  as  the  rays  then  fall 
upon  the  surface]  those  breathing  holes  often  betray  their 
inmates  to  the  ravages  of  predatory  birds  and  quadrupeds. 
The  mountain-eagles  and  hawks  then  fly  over  the  snowy 
surface,  and  beat  in  the  same  manner  for  these  holes,  as  they 
do  for  the  birds  themselves  when  there  is  no  snow  upon  the 
ground;  and  the  four-footed  ravager,  that  then  find  an  easy 
passage  along  the  hard  surface,  join  in  the  spoil.  INIan 
sometimes  also  takes  a  part  in  it,  but  much  less  frequently, 
because  there  are  concealed  holes  and  precipices  under  the 
snow,  which  are  full  of  danger. 


But  the  winds  by  which  the  falls  of  snow  in  the  Alpine 
countries  are  accompanied,  though  they  render  these  formi- 
dable to  the  animals,  whether  quadruped  or  bird,  while  they 
last,  and  fatal  to  man  if  he  be  overtaken  by  them  late  in  the 
day  and  far  from  his  home,  have  yet  their  uses,  and  tend  in 
some  measure  to  the  preservation  of  life.  Some  portions 
toward  the  windward  are  left  bare,  or  at  any  rate  with  the 
tops  of  the  heath  and  other  plants  above  the  surface,  and  the 
vigorous  find  their  way  to  these,  and  subsist  on  them  till 
other  parts  of  the  surface  be  clear.  When,  however,  the 
snow  falls  in  continued  storms,  and  especially  with  the 
wind  from  opposite  points  during  the  diiTerent  falls,  the  suf- 
ferings of  the  creatures  are  extreme:  first,  those  that  live  on 
vegetables,  perish  through  suflbcation  or  of  hunger,  and 
then  the  carnivorous  ones,  which  can  in  general  subsist 
longer  without  food,  follow  in  their  turn;  and  when  the 
snow  clears  away,  the  raven  comes  to  enjoy  the  spoils  of 
both. 

These  are  but  a  few  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  moor;  but 
moor  means  so  many  different  kinds  of  country,  according 
to  the  situation  in  which  it  is  placed,  that  there  is  no  possi- 
bility of  including  in  a  short  space  the  characters  that  are 
common  to  all.  There  are  comparatively  few  quadrupeds 
peculiar  to  such  situations,  and  the  number  of  insects  is  not 
great;  the  plants,  too,  though  more  abundant  and  more  nu- 
merous in  their  species,  are  not  those  that  are  the  most  strik- 
ing in  their  appearance,  or  the  most  interesting  in  their  pro- 
perties. 

Alpine  hares  are  sometimes  found  in  the  more  elevated 
parts  of  the  higher  moors,  and  the  common  hare  in  the  low- 
er parts  of  those  that  are  near  the  cultivated  grounds;  but 
the  only  quadrupeds  which  can  be  considered  as  natives, 
and  permanent  inhabitants  of  the  moors  in  any  part  of 
Britain,  are  deer;  and  they  properly  fall  into  the  descrip- 
tion of  a  more  limited  and  peculiar  description  of  scenery. 
We  must,  therefore,  even  though  the  subject  be  merely  be- 
gun, close  our  account  of  this  division  of  the  surface  of  our 
country.  There  are  other  circumstances  connected  with  it 
in  common  with  other  places,  to  which  we  can  afterwards 
advert  with  more  effect.  What  has  been  mentioned  will 
tend  to  show  that,  even  in  one  of  its  departments,  that  por- 
tion of  the  earth's  surface  which,  on  account  of  its  flatness 
and  its  sterility,  is  the  least  pleasing  or  promising,  is  yet 
fraught  with  lessons  of  the  greatest  importance,  if  we  would 
only  pause  and  read  them.  Nor  even  when  tlie  moor  has 
advanced  one  step  further,  and  become  a  desart  in  the  burn- 
ing climate,  or  a  peat-bog  in  the  cold  and  marshy  one,  can 
we  dare  to  say,  that  it  is  without  its  usefulness.  The  peat- 
bog is  the  coal-field  of  future  times,  and  the  waste  of  Zahara 
must  have  its  use,  or  it  would  not  have  existence. 

British  Naturalist. 


223  THE  CABINET  OF  NATUIL\L  HISTORY 

TORPIDITY  OF  THE  GROUND  SQUIRREL. 


Gentlemen, 

In  the  eighth  number  of  the  Cabinet  of  Natural  History, 
you  have  published  an  account  of  the  habits  of  the  Ground 
Squirrel,  with  a  correct  representation  of  the  same;  one  of 
the  singular  peculiarities  of  this  animal  as  observed  by  me  is 
not  stated,  viz. :  its  liability  to  become  torpid  during  very 
severe  weather,  a  fact  which  I  noticed  some  five  or  six  years 
since,  in  one  that  a  friend  of  mine  had  which  was  kept  in 
a  cage,  having  been  captured  the  preceding  summer,  and 
which  was  admired  for  its  sprightliness  and  activity  in  turn- 
ing a  cylindrical  wheel  attached  to  the  cage;  my  children  had 
at  the  same  time  a  flying  squirrel. 

The  difference  between  them  was  very  apparent,  the  former 
practising  his  gambols  on  the  wheel  in  day  time,  the  latter 
only  at  night;  it  was  proposed  to  send  his  Ground  Squirrel  to 
my  house,  in  order  to  ascertain  whether  they  would  associ- 
ate with  each  other;  in  the  course  of  a  few  days  afterwards 
the  weather  set  in  very  cold,  and  to  my  surprise  in  looking 
into  the  cage  I  found  the  Ground  Squirrel  lying  on  the  bot- 
tom apparently  dead ;  I  immediately  took  it  out,  and  on  ex- 
amination to  ascertain  whether  it  had  received  an  injury,  I 
discovered  symptoms  of  returning  animation,  produced,  no 
doubt,  by  the  warmth  of  the  house.  It  was  then  wrapped 
in  flannel  and  laid  under  a  moderately  heated  stove,  when 
in  a  few  minutes  it  was  completely  revived,  and  as  lively  as 
ever;  this  fact  was  noticed  repeatedly  afterwards,  and  always 
with  the  same  result.  Supposing  consequently,  that  this 
was  one  of  its  peculiarities,  and  having  frequently  mentioned 
it  to  my  friends  as  such,  I  had  some  doubts  on  reading 
your  account  whether  it  was  common  to  this  species;*  and 
believing  that  every  fact  in  relation  to  the  Natural  History 
of  our  own  country  might  be  interesting,  I  should  be  pleased 
to  know  whether  the  same  has  ever  been  noticed  by  your- 
self or  any  of  your  correspondents,  besides 

One  of  your  Subscribers. 


*  This  is  not  a  peculiarity  of  the  Ground  Squirrel,  but  is  common  to  other 
Squirrels,  and  more  particularly  to  the  Bat,  Dormouse,  Bear,  &c.  We  know 
of  but  one  author  (Pennant,  arct  Zool.)  who  records  this  fact  of  the  Ground 
Squirrel,  and  being  found  more  seldom  in  tills,  than  others  of  its  genus,  we 
thought  it  unnecessary  to  notice  it. 

It  may  at  all  events  be  considered  only  a  semi-torpid  state,  as  it  requires 
but  little  warmtli  to  excite  action,  as  we  have  seen  them  in  all  their  wonted 
sprightliness  running  along  the  fences  on  a  moderately  warm  day  in  Janua- 
ry, immediately  succeeding  a  very  cold  day. 

The  Squirrel  above  alluded  to,  having  been  placed  in  circumstances  entire- 
ly different  from  its  natural  state,  subjected  it  to  the  constant  changes  of 
the  weather,  which  produced  the  effect  described;  but  in  its  native  haunts, 
where  its  storehouses  are  well  filled,  it  possesses  the  means  to  excite  the 
functions  of  vitality,  and  ia  only  subjected  to  this  semi-torpid  state,  when 
its  provisions  are  exhausted. — En. 


SAGACITY  OF  A  GREYHOUND  AND  POINTER. 
A  GENTLEMAN  in  the  county  of  Stirling,  Scotland,  kept 
agreyhound  andapointer,  and,  being  fond  of  coursing,  the 
pointer  was  accustomed  to  find  the  hares,  and  the  grey- 
hound to  catch  them.  When  the  season  was  over,  it  was 
found  that  the  dogs  were  in  the  habit  of  going  out  by  them- 
selves, and  killing  the  hares  for  their  own  amusement.  To 
prevent  this,  a  large  iron  ring  was  fastened  to  the  pointer's 
neck  by  a  leather  collar,  and  hung  down,  so  as  to  prevent 
the  dog  from  running  or  jumping  over  dykes,  &c.  The  ani- 
mals, however,  continued  to  stroll  out  to  the  fields  together: 
and  one  day  the  gentleman,  suspecting  all  was  not  right, 
resolved  to  watch  them,  and,  to  his  surprise,  found  that  the 
moment  they  thought  they  were  unobserved,  the  greyhound 
took  up  the  iron  ring  in  his  mouth,  and,  carrying  it,  they 
set  off  to  the  hills,  and  began  to  search  for  hares  as  usual. 
They  were  followed,  and  it  was  observed  that,  whenever 
the  pointer  scented  the  hare,  the  ring  was  dropped,  and  the 
greyhound  stood  ready  to  pounce  upon  poor  puss  the  mo- 
ment the  other  drove  her  from  her  form,  but  that  he  uni- 
formly returned  to  assist  his  companion  when  he  had  accom- 
plished his  object. 


ANECDOTE  OF  A  FOX. 
A  party  returning  from  shooting  late  last  season,  saw  a 
fox  apparently  dirty  and  much  distressed,  enter  a  small 
thicket,  which  they  soon  after  surrounded,  when  several 
spaniels  were  hied  in  to  unkennel  him;  but,  to  the  astonish- 
ment of  all,  no  fox  could  be  found: — "I  have  constantly 
kept  my  eyes  on  the  brake,"  said  one,  "so  have  I,"  said 
another — "his  escape,"  added  a  third,  "without  our  seeing 
him,  is  next  to  impossible."  Whilst  wondering  at  this 
strange  circumstance,  an  old  gentleman,  very  well  mounted, 
rode  up  to  them,  to  whom  they  told  the  story.  "A  more 
game  fox,"  replied  the  veteran,  "never  ran  on  four  legs; 
we  have  followed  him  a  full  hour,  mostly  at  the  very  height 
of  our  speed,  and  ere  this  he  would  probably  have  breathed 
his  last,  but  for  the  rattling  of  yonder  confounded  timber 
carriages,  which  headed  him,  and  caused  a  check;  however, 
we  have  not  yet  done  with  him,  I  trust,  for  the  mystery  you 
speak  of  somehow  or  other  must  be  unravelled."  Then 
raising  himself  on  his  saddle,  and  looking  forward,  with 
great  earnestness,  "I  have  it — I  have  it,  gentlemen,"  said 
he,  "ten  pounds  to  a  shilling,  there  is  an  underground  com- 
munication between  the  brake  and  yonder  old  drain,  of 
which  Reynard  availed  himself."  So  indeed  it  proved — 
the  hounds  coming  up,  one  of  them  dashed  into  the  drain, 
and  opening,  the  others  quickly  joined,  when  they  all  went 
off  with  the  fury  of  a  tempest,  and  soon  killed  their  fox  on 
a  stopped  earth  in  an  adjoining  cover. — Sport.  Mag. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS 
RED-TAILED    HAWK. 


229 


FALCO  BORE  A  LIS. 

[Plate  XX.] 

Falco  Borealis.  Gmel.  Syst.  Nat.  Vol.  i.  p.  266.— La- 
tham. Ind.  Ornith.  Vol.  i.  p.  25.  Arct.  Zool.  p.  205, 
No.  100.  Ch.  Buonaparte,  Synops,  p.  32.  Wilson, 
Am.  Orn.  2cl  ed.  Vol.  i.  p.  82.  Jlmerican  Buzzard, 
Lath.  i.  50.  Turt.  Syst.  p.  151.  F.  aquillnus,  caucia 
ferriiginea,  Great  Eagle  Hawk,  Bartram,  p.  290. 
Philadelphia  Museum. 

This  species  of  the  Hawk  is  common  throughout  the 
United  States,  and  may  be  found,  during  each  season  of  the 
year,  in  the  Northern,  Middle,  Western,  and  Southern 
States.  They  descend,  in  the  winter  season,  in  some  mea- 
sure, from  the  higher  latitudes,  to  less  severe  climates,  and 
are  very  abundant  in  the  Middle  States.  In  the  lower  parts 
of  Pennsylvania  and  New  Jersey,  they  are  more  commonly 
to  be  seen  during  the  autumn  and  winter,  particularly  in 
the  regions  of  well-cultivated  farms  and  extensive  meadows. 
It  is  one  of  the  most  daring  and  ravenous  of  our  birds  of 
prey,  and  not  particular  as  to  the  kind  of  food  to  be 
devoured.  It,  however,  derives  its  chief  support  from  rabbits, 
quails,  larks,  and  poultry;  and,  in  the  absence  of  these,  rats, 
mice,  and  other  vermin.  JNIr.  Audibon  remarks,  "  I  have 
seen  this  species  pounce  on  soft-shelled  tortoises,  and 
amusing  enough  it  was  to  see  the  latter  scramble  towards 
the  water,  enter  it,  and  save  tiiemselves  from  the  claws  of 
the  Hawk  by  diving.  I  am  not  avvaro  that  this  Hawk  is 
ever  successful  in  these  attacks,  as  I  have  net  on  any  occa- 
sion found  any  portion  of  the  skin,  head,  or  feet  of  tortoises, 
in  the  stomachs  of  the  many  Hawks  of  this  species  which  I 
have  killed  and  examined.  Several  times,  however,  I  have 
found  portions  of  bull-frogs  in  their  stomachs." 

In  the  autumn,  when  that  interesting  and  vigilant  guar- 
dian, the  king  bird,  has  ceased  its  parental  duties,  and  taken 
its  final  leave  for  the  southern  climate,  then  it  is,  that  the 
Red-tailed  Ilawk  may  be  seen  prowling  about  farm  houses, 
to  the  terror  of  the  fowls,  and  consternation  of  the  country 
dames,  vi'hose  lamentations  at  the  loss  of  poultry,  and 
tlireatenings  of  revenge,  bespeak  the  ferocity  and  destruc- 
tive energies  of  this  common  enemy. 

The  daring  boldness  of  this  Hawk  is  without  parallel  in 
its  kind.  Conscious  of  the  superiority  only  of  man,  it 
seems,  guided  by  instinct,  to  delay  its  depredations  until 
the  farmer  is  absent  from  his  home,  and  then,  with  a  rapid 
flight,  it  leaves  its  seat  of  observation,  and  silent  as  death, 
with  wings  motionless,  it  skims  over  the  top  of  the  orchard, 
3M 


direct  for  the  farm  house,  appearing  to  choose  this  dense 
collection  of  foliage  to  hide  it  from  view,  until  the  first  inti- 
mation of  its  approach  is  resounded  from  a  hundred  cack- 
ling throats,  that  the  enemy  is  at  hand,  and  the  work  of 
destruction  done.  By  one  swoop,  scarcely  retarded  in  its 
progress,  this  bird  of  prej'  seizes  its  victim  in  its  powerful 
talons,  and  bears  it  off,  still  alive,  and  writhing  in  the  ago- 
nies of  death,  to  the  wood. 

The  flight  of  this  Hawk  is  regular  and  majestic  when 
sailing  in  the  air.  In  the  autumn,  when  the  cooling  breezes 
of  the  north  are  playing  through  the  faded  leaves  of  the 
forests,  then  may  be  seen  against  a  cloudless  sky,  the  spiral 
movements  of  this  bird.  At  first,  it  leaves  its  lofty  seat 
with  a  few  fluttering  motions  of  the  wings,  and  then  with 
motionless  and  outstretched  pinions,  it  cleaves  the  air,inacon- 
tinual  circular  flight,  ascending  gradually  at  every  revolution, 
until  it  is  finally  lost  to  human  ken.  But  when  in  search  of 
prey,  the  majesty  of  the  bird  is  obscured  by  its  predatory 
designs.  Its  sight,  which  is  only  surpassed  by  that  of  the 
eagle,  is  most  wonderful.  Passing  rapidly  over  woods  or 
fields,  the  slightest  motion  on  the  earth  or  in  the  grass,  is 
detected  by  the  keenness  of  its  vision;  then  its  progress  is 
immediately  retarded  by  alighting  on  a  neighbouring  tree, 
or  making  a  contracted  circular  flight  over  the  spot  whence 
the  motion  proceeded,  until  the  cause  which  arrested  its  at- 
tention is  fully  ascertained;  and  if  there  be  a  subject  for  its 
appetite,  it  seldom  fails  to  secure  it.  When  seated  on  a 
tree,  this  Hawk  is  grave  and  watchful;  its  penetrating  eye 
pierces  through  the  thickly  matted  grass,  and  with  the  most 
intense  vigilance,  directs  its  attention  to  the  spot  where  the 
prey  lies  concealed,  and  by  one  bound,  like  lightning  it  de- 
scends to  the  earth,  and  with  unerring  aim,  secures  the  hap- 
less victim. 

In  the  fall  of  1826,  I  was  hunting  in  Jersey,  and  whilst 
beating  with  my  dogs  an  extensive  stubble  field,  my  atten- 
tion was  attracted  by  the  well-known  screams  of  tlie  Red- 
tailed  Hawk.  I  had  been  unsuccessful  on  ground  which  I 
knew  abounded  with  game,  and  was  at  a  loss  to  account  for 
its  disappearance,  until  the  cause  was  made  known  by  the 
vociferations  of  this  Hawk.  Casting  my  eyes  toward  the 
extremitj'  of  the  field,  I  discovered  one  of  these  birds  sail- 
ing over  that  part  of  it  which  contained  an  extensive  aspa- 
ragus bed,  where,  suddenly  the  bird's  attention  was  drawn 
to  some  object  sheltered  beneath  the  density  of  the  aspara- 
gus. In  a  moment  its  progress  was  retarded,  and  balancing 
itself  in  the  air  for  a  few  moments,  at  the  height  of  perhaps 
forty  feet,  it  made  a  sudden  plunge  into  the  grass,  and  there 
remained.  I  took  advantage  of  this  shelter,  and  proceeded 
rapidly  towards  the  spot  for  the  purpose  of  shooting  the 
Hawk;  l)ut  ere  I  reached  the  desired  place,  it  rose  again  to 
the  same  height  in  the  air  as  before,  and  hovered  for  a  con« 


230 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


iiderable  time.  Having  missed  its  prey  in  the  first  attempt, 
it  was  now  so  intent  on  the  object  beneath  it,  that  my  ap- 
proach was  entirely  disregarded.  In  another  moment,  and 
with  more  fatal  aim,  it  darted  into  the  grass,  with  a  rustling 
noise,  and  soon  arose  with  its  victim.  Being  sufficiently 
near,  I  shot  the  Hawk,  and  secured  its  prize,  which  was  yet 
alive.  It  was  a  male  partridge,  and  had,  with  its  compa- 
nions, sought  shelter  in  the  asparagus;  but  with  all  the  well- 
known  ingenuity  of  these  birds,  it  availed  nothing  against 
the  penetrating  eye  of  this  Hawk. 

The  voice  of  the  Redtailed  Hawk  is  harsh,  and  may  be 
heard  at  a  considerable  distance.  Its  ungracious  and  terrifying 
screams  are  the  signals  for  its  prey  to  seek  shelter  from  its  ta- 
lons; but  in  doing  this  they  commonly  fall  victims  to  thisartifice 
of  their  destroyer.  Like  the  lion  howling  to  affrighten  and 
put  in  motion  the  beasts  of  the  forest,  that  their  fears  may 
overcome  their  instinct,  and  press  them  headlong  to  destruc- 
tion. So  it  appears  to  be  a  finesse  of  this  Hawk  to  skim  the 
surface  of  the  ground,  and  hover  around  the  favourite  haunts 
of  its  prey,  and  by  those  desolating  screams,  put  in  motion 
such  of  the  animals  or  feathered  tribe  which  may  be  near, 
and  which,  while  seeking  more  secure  shelter,  are  pounced 
upon  and  destroyed  by  their  inveterate  enemy. 

The  Red-tailed  Hawk  is  designated  by  the  farmers  under 
the  titles  of  the  "Chicken  Hawk,"  and  "Hen  Hawk," 
and  many  artifices  are  employed  to  destroy  this  bird,  so  in- 
jurious to  the  farmer's  poultry  yard.  The  use  of  the  gun 
more  frequently  fails  in  their  destruction  than  other  means. 
Seated,  generally,  on  some  detached  tree  of  the  wood,  or 
in  the  middle  of  a  field,  on  the  decayed  extremity  of  a 
topmost  branch,  the  sphere  of  vision  to  this  Hawk  is  very 
extensive.  Naturally  shy,  and,  perhaps,  conscious  of  its 
depredations,  it  avoids  man  as  its  common  and  only  enemy: 
consequentl)',  it  is  exceedingly  difficult  to  approach,  and 
can  seldom  be  done,  except  through  the  agency  of  the  horse. 
In  this  case,  the  disposition  of  the  bird  appears  totally 
changed,  and  by  some  blind  fatality,  will  suffer  a  man  on 
horseback  to  pass  immediately  under  the  tree  on  which  it 
sits,  without  showing  signs  of  fear;  but  as  it  is  not  always 
convenient  and  practicable  to  employ  a  horse  for  this  pur- 
pose, other  means  are  resorted  to.  A  friend  of  mine,  who 
resides  a  few  miles  from  Philadelphia,  has  been  very  suc- 
cessful in  ridding  himself  of  these  Hawks,  by  using  steel 
traps.  These  he  would  place  in  the  neighbourhood  of  those 
trees  usually  occupied  by  the  Hawks,  and  after  securing  the 
traps  to  the  earth,  he  would  bate  them  with  a  dead  fowl, 
and,  sometimes,  only  the  feathers  and  offals  of  fowls,  and 
which  seldom  failed  to  answer  the  purpose.  He  would  only 
resort  to  this  plan  after  having  discovered  a  Hawk  visit  the 
same  tree  two  or  three  times  successively. 

During  protracted  cold  weather  and  deep  snows,  the  or- 


dinary supplies  of  food  are  no  longer  to  be  obtained  by 
Hawks,  and,  like  other  shy  and  vigilant  birds,  their  ferocity 
and  energies  become  in  a  measure  subdued,  by  the  severi- 
ties of  the  winter.  The  past  winter  was  one  of  unusual 
coldness,  and  these,  as  well  as  other  birds,  suffered  much 
from  its  inclemencies.  I  have  heard  that  a  Red-tailed  Hawk 
was  seen  on  the  public  highway,  scratching  and  gleaning  a 
scanty  meal,  from  among  the  droppings  of  the  horses,  and  on 
the  approach  of  a  sleigh  with  bells,  merely  avoided  it,  by 
flying  on  the  fence  by  the  road  side,  not  more  than  twenty 
feet  from  the  passengers,  and  resumed  its  former  occupation 
so  soon  as  the  sleigh  had  passed. 

The  young  of  the  Red-tailed  Hawk  are  very  noisy  when 
confined  to  their  nests,  keeping  up  an  incessant  clamor.  They 
are  protected  and  fed  by  both  parents,  until  they  have  at- 
tained an  age  sufficient  to  shift  for  themselves,  when  not 
only  they  are  forsaken  by  the  parents,  but  a  complete  sepa- 
ration of  each  member  of  the  family  takes  place,  and  each 
becomes  selfish  and  shy  towards  the  other,  as  though  there 
never  existed  affuiity  between  them. 

The  Red-tailed  Hawk  commences  building  its  nest  in  Fe- 
bruary, generally  on  some  tall  tree,  in  an  unfrequented 
wood,  which  consists  of  sticks  and  coarse  grass.  I  do  not  re- 
collect of  ever  having  seen  but  two:  one  was  on  the  north- 
ern range  of  hills  which  bounds  the  great  valley  of  Chester 
county,  and  the  other,  in  an  extensive  pine  wood,  in  Jersey. 
The  eggs  are  commonly  four  or  five  in  number,  of  a  dirty 
white  and  spotted  with  a  dark  brown  colour;  and  the  fol- 
lowing description,  by  Wilson,  so  perfectly  agrees  with  the 
specimen  from  which  our  drawing  is  made,  that  I  have  in- 
serted it  at  length. 

"  The  Red-tailed  Hawk  is  twenty  inches  long,  and  three 
feet  nine  inches  in  extent;  bill  blue  black;  cere  and  sides  of 
the  mouth  yellow,  tinged  with  green;  lores  and  spot  on  the 
under  eye-lid  white,  the  former  marked  with  fine  radiating 
hairs;  eye-brow,  or  cartilage,  a  dull  eel-skin  colour,  promi- 
nent, projecting  over  the  eye;  a  broad  streak  of  dark  brown 
extends  from  the  sides  of  the  mouth  backwards;  crown  and 
hind-head  dark  brown,  seamed  with  white  and  ferruginous; 
sides  of  the  neck  dull  ferruginous,  streaked  with  brown; 
eye  large;  iris  pale  amber;  back  and  shoulders  deep  brown; 
wings  dusky,  barred  with  blackish;  ends  of  the  five  first 
primaries  nearly  black;  scapularies  barred  broadly  with 
white  and  brown;  sides  of  the  tail-coverts  white,  barred 
with  ferruginous,  middle  ones  dark,  edged  with  rust;  tail 
rounded,  extending  two  inches  beyond  the  wings,  and  of  a 
bright  red  brown,  with  a  single  band  of  black  near  the  end, 
and  tipped  with  brownish  white;  on  some  of  the  lateral 
feathers  are  slight  indications  of  the  remains  of  other  nar- 
row bars;  lower  parts  brownish  white;  the  breast  ferrugi- 
nous, streaked  with  dark  brown;  across  the  belly  a  band  of 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


231 


interrupted  spots  of  brown;  skin  white;  femorals  and  vent 
pale  brownish  white,  the  former  marked  with  a  few  minute 
heart-shaped  spots  of  brown;  legs  yellow,  feathered  half  way 
below  the  knees." 

The  male  differs  from  the  female  in  being  somewhat 
smaller  and  having  more  brightness  of  colour  throughout 
its  plumage,  and  a  more  strongly  defined  black  band  across 
the  tail. 

We  are  indebted  to  the  Philadelphia  Museum  for  the  use 
of  the  beautiful  bird  from  which  our  drawing  is  made.  It 
was  alive  and  kept  by  Mr.  T.  R.  Peale  for  some  time,  and 
afterwards  most  beautifully  prepared  by  him.  I.  D. 


AMERICAN  SPARROW  HAWK. 

FALCO  SPARVERIUS. 

[Plate  XX.     Female.] 

Falco  Sparverhts.  Linn.  Syst.  ed.  10,  p.  90.  Gmel.  Syst. 
1,  p.  2S4.  Ind.  Orn.  p.  42.— Emerillon  de  St.  Bomin- 
gue,  Buff.  1,  291.  PI.  enl.  465.  Arct.  Zool.  212.— Lit- 
tle Falcon,  Lath.  Syn.  V.  1,  p.  114,  No.  94,  ib.  95. — 
Little  Hawk,  Arct.  Zool.  211,  No.  \\Q.— Emerillon 
de  Cayenne,  Buff.  1,  291.  PI.  enl.  No.  444.—/^.  Do- 
minicensis,  Gmel.  Syst.  1,  p.  285. — Little  Hawk, 
Catesbt,  1,  p.  5. — U Emerillon  dela  Caroline,  Briss. 
Orn.  1,  p.  SS6. —  Tinmincz/lus  Sparveriiis,  Vieil  Ois. 
de  I'Am.  Sept.  p.  12,  13. — J.  Doughty's  Collection. 

"  In  no  department  of  ornithology  has  there  been  greater 
confusion,  or  more  mistakes  made,  than  among  this  class  of 
birds  of  prey.  The  great  difference  of  size  between  the 
male  and  female,  the  progressive  variation  of  plumage  to 
which,  for  several  years,  they  are  subject,  and  the  difficulty 
of  procuring  a  sufficient  number  of  specimens  for  examina- 
tion; all  these  causes  conspire  to  lead  the  naturalist  into  al- 
most unavoidable  mistakes.  According  to  fashionable  eti- 
quette the  honour  of  precedence,  in  the  present  instance,  is 
given  to  the  fe?nale  of  this  species;  both  because  she  is  the 
most  courageous,  the  largest,  and  the  handsomest  of  the  two, 
best  ascertained,  and  less  subject  to  change  of  colour  than 
the  male. 

"  This  bird  is  a  constant  resident  in  almost  every  part  of 
the  United  States,  particularly  in  the  States  north  of  Mary- 
land. In  the  southern  States  there  is  a  smaller  species  found, 
which  is  destitute  of  the  black  spots  on  the  head;  the  legs 
are  long  and  very  slender,  and  the  wings  light  blue.     This 


has  been  supposed,  by  some,  to  be  the  male  of  the  present 
species:  but  this  is  an  error.  The  eye  of  the  present  spe- 
cies is  dusky;  that  of  the  smaller  species  a  brilliant  orange; 
the  former  has  the  tail  rounded  at  the  end,  the  latter  slightly 
forked.  Such  essential  differences  never  take  place  between 
two  individuals  of  the  same  species.  It  ought,  however,  to 
be  remarked,  that  in  all  the  figures  and  descriptions  I  have 
hitherto  met  with  of  the  bird  now  before  us,  the  iris  is  re- 
presented of  a  bright  golden  colour;  but  in  all  the  specimens 
I  have  shot  I  uniformly  found  the  eye  very  dark,  almost 
black,  resembling  a  globe  of  black  glass.  No  doubt  the 
golden  colour  of  the  iris  would  give  the  figure  of  the  bird 
a  more  striking  appearance;  but  in  works  of  natural  history 
to  sacrifice  truth  to  mere  picturesque  effect,  is  detestable; 
though,  I  fear,  but  too  often  put  in  practice. 

"  The  nest  of  this  species  is  usually  built  in  a  hollow  tree; 
generally  pretty  high  up,  where  the  top  or  a  large  limb  has 
been  broken  off.  I  have  never  seen  its  eggs;  but  have  been 
told  that  the  female  generally  lays  four  or  five,  which  are  of 
a  light  brownish  yellow  colour,  spotted  with  a  darker  tint; 
the  young  are  fed  on  grasshoppers,  mice,  and  small  birds, 
the  usual  food  of  the  parents. 

"  The  habits  and  manners  of  this  bird  are  well  known. 
It  flies  rather  irregularl)-,  occasionally  suspending  itself  in 
the  air,  hovering  over  a  particular  spot  for  a  minute  or  two, 
and  then  shooting  off  in  another  direction.  It  perches  on 
the  top  of  a  dead  tree,  or  pole  in  the  middle  of  a  field  or 
meadow,  and  as  it  alights  shuts  its  long  wings  so  suddenly 
that  they  seem  instantly  to  disappear;  it  sits  here  in  an  al- 
most perpendicular  position,  sometimes  for  an  hour  at  a  time, 
frequently  jerking  its  tail,  and  reconnoitering  the  ground 
below,  in  every  direction,  for  mice,  lizards,  &c.  It  ap- 
proaches the  farm-house,  particularly  in  the  morning,  skulk- 
ing about  the  barn-yard  for  mice  or  young  chickens.  It 
frequently  plunges  into  a  thicket  after  small  birds,  as  if  by 
random;  but  always  with  a  particular,  and  generally  a  fatal, 
aim.  One  day  I  observed  a  bird  of  this  species  perched  on 
the  highest  top  of  a  large  poplar,  on  the  skirts  of  the  wood; 
and  was  in  the  act  of  raising  the  gun  to  my  eye  when  he 
swept  down  with  the  rapidity  of  an  arrow  into  a  thicket  of 
briars  about  thirty  }-ards  off,  where  I  shot  him  dead;  and 
on  coming  up  found  a  small  field  sparrow  quivering  in  his 
grasp.  Both  our  aims  had  been  taken  in  the  same  instant, 
and,  unfortunately  for  him,  both  were  fatal.  It  is  particu- 
larly fond  of  watching  along  hedge-rows,  and  in  orchards, 
where  those  small  birds,  usually  resort.  When  grass- 
hoppers are  plenty,  they  form  a  considerable  part  of  its 
food. 

"Though  small  snakes,  mice,  lizards,  &c.  be  favourite 
morsels  with  this  active  bird;  yet  we  are  not  to  suppose  it 
altogether  destitute  of  delicacy  in  feeding.     It  will  seldom 


or  never  eat  of  any  thing  that  it  has  not  itself  killed,  and 
even  that,  if  not  (as  epicures  would  term  it)  in  good  eating 
order,  is  sometimes  rejected.  A  very  respectable  friend, 
through  the  medium  of  Mr.  Barlrant,  informs  me,  that  one 
morning  he  observed  one  of  these  Hawks  dart  down  on  the 
ground,  and  seize  a  mouse,  which  he  carried  to  a  fence  post; 
wliere,  after  examining  it  for  some  time,  he  left  it;  and  a 
little  while  after,  pounced  upon  another  mouse,  which  he 
instantly  carried  off  to  his  nest,  in  the  hollow  of  a  tree  hard 
by.  The  gentleman,  anxious  to  know  why  the  Hawk  had 
rejected  the  first  mouse,  went  up  to  it,  and  foimd  it  to  be 
almost  covered  with  lice,  and  greatly  emaciated!  Here  was 
not  only  delicacy  of  taste,  but  sound  and  prudent  reason- 
ing.— "  If  I  carry  this  to  my  nest,"  thought  he,  "it  will 
fill  it  with  vermin,  and  hardly  be  worth  eating." 

"  The  Blue  Jays  have  a  particular  antipathy  to  this  bird, 
and  frequently  insult  it  by  following  and  imitating  its  notes 
so  exactly  as  to  deceive  even  those  well  acquainted  with 
both.  In  return  for  all  this  abuse  the  Hawk  contents  him- 
self with,  now  and  then,  feasting  on  the  plumpest  of  his 
persecutors;  who  are  therefore  in  perpetual  dread  of  him; 
and  yet,  through  some  strange  infatuation,  or  from  fear  that 
if  they  lose  sight  of  him  he  may  attack  them  unawares,  the 
Sparrow  Hawk  no  sooner  appears  than  the  alarm  is  given, 
and  the  whole  posse  of  Jays  follow. 

"  The  female  of  this  species,  which  is  here  faithfully  re- 
presented from  a  very  beautiful  specimen,  is  eleven  inclies 
long,  and  twenty-three  from  tip  to  tip  of  the  expanded 
wings.  The  cere  and  legs  are  yellow;  bill  blue,  tipped  with 
black;  space  round  the  eye  greenish  blue;  iris  deep  dusky; 
head  bluish  ash;  crown  rufous;  seven  spots  of  black,  on  a 
white  ground,  surround  the  head  in  the  manner  represented 
in  the  figure;  whole  upper  parts  reddish  bay,  transversely 
streaked  with  black;  primary  and  secondary  quills  black, 
spotted  on  their  inner  vanes  with  brownish  white;  whole 
lower  parts  j'ellowish  white,  marked  with  longitudinal 
streaks  of  brown,  except  the  chin,  vent,  and  femoral  feathers, 
which  are  white;  claws  black. 

"  The  character  of  the  male  corresponds  with  that  of  the 
female.  I  have  reason,  however,  to  believe,  that  these 
birds  vary  considerably  in  the  colour  and  markings  of  their 
plumage  during  the  first  and  second  years,  having  met  with 
specimens  every  way  corresponding  with  the  above,  except 
in  the  breast,  which  was  a  plain  rufous  white,  without  spots; 
the  markings  on  the  tail  also  diflering  a  little  in  dili'erent 
specimens.  These  I  uniformly  found  on  dissection  to  be 
males;  from  the  stomach  of  one  of  which  I  took  a  conside- 
rable part  of  the  carcass  of  a  Robin  f  Tardus  Jiiigratorius) 
including  the  unbroken  feet  and  claws;  though  the  Robin 
actually  measures  within  half  an  inch  as  long  as  the  Sparrow 
Hawk." 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 

AN  ATTEMPT  AT  DOMESTICATING 

THE   PARTRIDGE,    OR    QUAIL. 

PERDIX  VIRGINMNUS. 


My  Dear  Sir, 

You  have  had  the  kindness  to  ssnd  me  the  numbers  of  the 
"  Cabinet  of  Natural  History,"  as  far  as  they  have  been  pub- 
lished; and,  I  assure  you,  their  contents  have  amused  and 
instructed  me.  The  Editors  appear  to  have  studied,  where 
ever}'  lover  of  Nature  delights  to  study,  in  the  fields  and  the 
forests;  and  I  feel  so  desirous  of  their  success  in  exciting, 
among  the  community,  a  greater  fondness  for  the  study  of 
Natural  History,  than  has  heretofore  been  exhibited,  that  I 
have  ventured  to  look  over  a  hasty  and  imperfect  diary,  in 
which  I  have  occasionally  noted  down  any  circumstance  in 
relation  to  that  fascinating  science,  that  appeared  new  to  me, 
with  the  intention  of  sending  one  or  two  communications 
to  you;  and  if  you,  or  the  Editors,  should  deem  them  suf- 
ficiently interesting  for  the  "  Cabinet,"  they  are  at  your 
service.  You  have,  however,  reminded  me  of  an  experi- 
ment, which  has,  for  a  year  past,  been  progressing  almost 
under  3'our  eye;  and  as  I  cannot,  at  this  moment,  recollect 
any  thing  upon  the  subject  of  Natural  History,  which  inte- 
rests me  more  than  this,  I  proceed  to  communicate  it,  giv- 
ing your  name  as  a  voucher  for  the  accuracy  of  mj'  state- 
ments. 

Having  been  informed,  that  the  Partridge  of  the  southern 
States  (one  of  the  most  interesting  game  birds  of  the  country) 
had  been  sometimes  reared  by  the  common  hen,  and  had 
remained  half-domesticated  until  by  accident  it  was  lost,  or 
through  neglect  suffered  to  stray  away,  I  made  several  at- 
tempts to  domesticate  it.  Upon  two  occasions  I  procured 
eggs,  and  had  them  hatched  without  difficulty,  under  a  com- 
mon hen;  but  when  they  were  about  half  grown,  I  removed 
from  the  city,  and  continued  absent  during  the  summer; 
upon  my  return  in  autumn,  I  found  that  my  servants,  clas.s- 
ing  them  with  the  unproductive  and  troublesome  append- 
ages of  the  establishment,  had  neglected  them,  and  they  had 
disappeared. 

The  last  year,  (1S30,)  however,  I  resolved  to  try  the  ex- 
periment again;  and  I  am  about  to  acquaint  you  with  the  re- 
sult. I  found  greater  difficulty  in  procuring  the  eggs  than 
I  had  anticipated;  but  on  the  25th  of  May,  a  friend  sent  me 
sixteen  from  the  country,  and  upon  the  same  day  they  were 
placed  under  a  Bantam  hen,  which,  upon  the  evening  of  the 
twenty-sixth  day's  sitting,  hatched  fifteen  of  them;  but  to 
my  great  surprise,  she  commenced  swallowing  those  which 
were  not  yet  dry,  and  before  I  had  arranged  a  suitable  place 
for  herself  and  the  little  brood,  she  had  devoured  all  but 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


233 


seven.  This  vicious  propensity  I  can  only  account  for  by 
the  circumstance,  that  the  servants  were  in  the  habit  of  care- 
lessly throwing  dead  chickens  into  the  yard,  which  had 
given  the  poultry  a  taste  for  meat.  Be  this  as  it  may,  I  was 
mortified  in  seeing  one  half  of  the  brood  thus  greedily 
swallowed  by  their  unnatural  stepmother.  The  seven  that 
remained  were  removed  from  the  hen  till  the  next  morning, 
when  they  were  put  into  a  box,  five  feet  by  two,  and  the 
hen  once  more  placed  near  them.  She  from  that  moment 
seemed  to  regard  them  as  her  own,  and  evinced  extreme 
affection  for  them.  The  box  was  railed  across  the  top,  and 
divided  into  two  apartments  by  rails  within  ;  so  that,  if 
any  delicacies  were  given  to  the  young,  the  hen  could  not 
reach  them.  They  were  fed  on  alum-curds  and  corn-grist, 
and  I  soon  discovered  that  they  would  eat  any  food,  such  as 
is  usually  thrown  out  to  young  chickens.  At  first  they 
were  wild;  but,  by  being  kept  in  a  place  where  the  servants 
were  constantly  passing  and  repassing,  they  became  tolera- 
bly tame,  and,  after  three  weeks,  were  suffered  to  run  about 
the  flower-garden,  which  contains  a  quantity  of  shrubbery, 
and  is  ninety  feet  long  by  seventy  broad,  with  a  fence  tight 
near  the  ground. 

To  guard  against  their  flying  away,  I  took  off  the  first 
joint  from  a  wing  of  each,  which  operation  did  not  seem  to 
give  them  much  pain,  nor  did  it  in  any  measure  retard  their 
growth.  In  the  autumn  they  moulted  their  feathers,  and 
continued  free  from  disease,  and  have  always  been  very 
healthy. 

An  unlucky  cat,  from  the  neighbourhood,  conceived  a 
fancy  for  my  birds,  and  carried  off  one;  and  I  was  necessi- 
tated to  set  box-traps,  in  which  several  of  these  enemies  of 
the  feathered  race  were  caught,  and,  by  the  consent  of  their 
owners,  were  sent  upon  their  travels. 

When  the  Partridges  had  obtained  their  full  growth  they 
became  very  interesting,  following  me  about  the  garden  and 
the  house,  and  running  up  to  me  at  the  moment  I  called 
them:  this  familiarity  cost  the  life  of  another,  for,  in  follow- 
ing me  into  an  upper  piazza,  it  attempted  to  fly  into  the  gar- 
den, and  was  killed  by  the  fall.  Two  only  of  the  remaining 
five  were  females,  and  I  was  obliged  to  commence  my  ex- 
periment on  rather  a  smaller  scale. 

Sometime  in  March,  my  ears  were  greeted  with  the  sound 
of  "  Bob  White,"  at  first  low,  but  it  increased  in  fulness  of 
tone.  The  other  males  soon  followed,  and,  in  a  few  days, 
the  whistle  that  charmed  me  so  much  in  boyhood,  and  de- 
lights me  still,  was  heard  from  morning  till  night  These 
birds  were  reared  far  removed  from  others,  having  listened 
to  no  softer  notes  than  those  emitted  by  ducks  and  geese; 
nevertheless,  they  uttered  the  song  of  their  species:  a  proof 
that  it  is  natural,  and  requires  no  art  to  teach  it  to 
them.  They  soon  began  to  pair  off,  and  look  out  for  nests, 
3N 


and  some  bloody  battles  were  fought  by  the  males.  For  the 
preservation  of  peace,  I  removed  one  of  them  into  an  aviary, 
where  a  couple  of  wild  females  of  his  kind  were  kept,  but 
to  which  he  has  never  become  fairly  reconciled,  and  he  still 
seems  to  sigh  for  his  old  haunts.  I  placed  two  boxes  in  a 
sheltered  situation  within  my  garden,  with  a  small  quantity 
of  hay  in  and  about  them,  in  hopes  that  the  birds  might  find 
them  suited  to  their  purposes.  I  discovered  that  one  of  the 
boxes  had  attracted  them,  and,  in  a  few  days,  a  rery  com- 
pact little  nest  had  been  built.  Upon  the  2Sth  of  May,  the 
first  egg  was  laid  in  the  nest,  and,  after  this,  an  egg  was 
added  almost  every  day.  About  eight  days  ago,  the  second 
hen  began  to  lay  in  the  same  nest,  verifying  what  I  had 
long  suspected,  that  more  than  one  female  occasionally  lay 
in  the  same  nest,  as  I  have  once  seen  twenty-eight  eggs,  and 
at  another  time  thirty-one,  in  a  nest  in  the  fields;  and  I  once 
received  from  a  friend  a  few  eggs,  that  were  found  in  the 
nest  of  a  guinea-fowl.  They  have  now  (June  23d)  laid 
eighteen  eggs,  a  part  of  which  I  have  placed  under  a  Ban- 
tam hen,  and  a  few  remain  upon  which  I  intend  one  of  the 
birds  to  set.  The  other  I  think  will  begin  laying  again, 
after  her  eggs  have  been  taken  from  her;  as  in  this  climate 
they  raise  two  broods,  and  when,  by  some  accident,  their 
eggs  are  destroyed,  they  lay  several  times  during  a  summer. 
I  have  examined  by  the  light  of  a  lamp,  (according  to  my 
usual  custom)  whether  the  eggs  which  were  placed  under  a 
hen  are  impregnated,  and  find  that  they  are  likely  to  pro- 
duce young;  and,  therefore,  I  conclude  that  my  experiment 
will  eventuate  successfully:  I  commenced  it  with  the  eggs, 
and  brought  the  birds  through  all  tlie  stages  until  they  have 
produced  eggs. 

Whether  birds  of  this  species  will  ever  be  raised  to  any 
extent  is  doubtful,  as  it  will  only  be  attempted  by  those  who 
are  curious  in  such  matters;  but  my  experiment  shows  that 
it  can  be  done  without  much  trouble.  I  find  them,  also, 
very  amusing  pets,  they  come  regularly  to  be  fed,  and  seem, 
when  neglected,  to  have  a  method  of  making  me  understand 
that  they  are  hungry.  The  males  are  very  resolute,  and 
like  the  quails  used  in  the  cockpits  of  the  ancients,  are  fear- 
less pugnacious  fellows,  and  attack  the  pigeons  and  poultry, 
and  are  sure  to  follow  and  pick  at  every  foot  that  approaches 
their  nest. 

I  have  some  farther  anecdotes  of  these  interesting  birds, 
but  am  admonished,  that,  whilst  I  am  amusing  myself  with 
the  relation  of  experiments  which  have  been  very  interest- 
ing to  me,  they  may  be  less  so  to  others. 

Yours,  with  great  esteem, 

L.  J.  Salaignac,  esq. 

A  Lover  of  Natural  Histort. 
Charleston,  S.  C.  June  33,  1S31. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 

r 


AN  INTERESTING  MODE  OF  FINDING  WILD  BEES. 

Among  the  vast  multitudes  of  insects  that  cover  the  earth, 
there  are  none  which  attract  the  attention,  or  excite  the  ad- 
miration of  mankind,  so  much  as  the  Honey  Bees.  These 
familiar  and  interesting  insects  are  the  constant  attendants 
on  man,  and,  in  the  newly  settled  parts  of  our  country,  are 
among  the  first  visitors  to  welcome  the  migrating  husband- 
man to  the  uncultivated  forest. 

I  have  always  been  a  lover  of  nature;  inanimate  and  ani- 
mate. In  the  former,  I  have  often  in  the  mountain  wilds, 
found  a  solace  from  the  perplexities  of  life,  while  contem- 
plating the  undisturbed  serenity  of  the  wilderness  around 
me;  and  the  latter  has  aflbrded  me  a  thousand  recreative  and 
physical  enjoyments,  when  nature  required  invigoration,  or 
the  monotony  of  a  country,  and  in  a  measure  solitary,  life. 
Variety,  and  the  subjects  of  the  present  notice,  were  not 
among  the  least  to  afibrd  amusement  and  innocent  pastime, 
as  well  as  considerable  profit. 

On  my  native,  fertile,  and  flower-bearing  hills  have  I 
spent  many  days  during  the  season  of  youth,  in  studying 
the  habits,  and  searching  for  the  hives,  of  the  Wild  Honey 
Bees.  These  abound,  in  great  quantities,  in  most  of  our 
northern  and  western  forests;  but  it  requires  system  and 
skill  to  discover  them. 

I  know  of  no  amusement  surpassing  the  pursuit  of  Wild 
Bees:  it  affords  recreation  without  fatigue;  relief  and  diver- 
sion to  the  mind,  and  the  quantity  of  honey  frequently  pro- 
cured during  these  excursions  is  almost  incredible.      The 


scenery  which  you  must  necessarily  enter  is  of  the  most  ro- 
mantic kind,  and  being  elevated  frequently  on  some  moun- 
tain summit,  you  enjoy  a  free,  uncontaminated  circulation 
of  air,  which  invigorates  the  body,  and  gives  buoyancy  to 
the  mind. 

Having  never  seen  the  manner  of  finding  Wild  Bees  de- 
scribed, I  thought  (as  it  may  be  considered  among  the  pas- 
times of  our  country)  an  account  of  it  might  be  interesting 
to  the  readers  of  your  work. 

In  this  pursuit  I  always  provided  myself  with  a  tin  box, 
about  five  inches  in  diameter,  and  of  sufficient  depth  to 
contain  a  honeycomb,  without  mashing  it  when  the  lid  was 
put  on,  a  glass  tumbler,  and  a  forked  stick,  about  five  feet 
long;  this  stick  should  contain  three  prongs,  in  order  to  set 
the  tin  box  in  it  secure,  and  the  opposite  end  should  be 
sharpened  for  the  purpose  of  sticking  in  the  ground.  I  then 
filled  the  comb  with  honey,  and  went  either  to  a  buckwheat 
field,  or  to  some  wild  flowers,  until  I  found  a  Bee,  and  so 
soon  as  this  was  the  case,  I  made  it  prisoner,  by  placing  the 
tumbler  over  the  Bee  and  flower,  and  then,  by  closing  the 
mouth  of  the  tumbler  with  the  palm  of  my  hand,  the  Bee 
would  leave  the  flower  and  fly  upwards  against  the  bottom 
of  the  tumbler,  and  try  to  escape.  There  is  never  danger 
of  being  stung  unless  you  hurt  the  Bee,  in  which  case  it 
will  most  assuredly  revenge  itself.  Being  thus  provided,  I 
sought  an  open  spot  in  the  wood  to  commence  my  opera- 
tions; this  was  done  by  fixing  the  forked  stick  firmly  in  the 
ground,  and  placing  the  tin  box  containing  the  honey  in  the 
fork;  I  next  put  the  tumbler  with  the  Bee  immediately  on 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


the  honey,  and  then  darkened  the  whole  concern  by  placing 
my  hat  over  it.  So  soon  as  by  this  means  the  light  would 
come  to  the  Bee  from  below,  it  would  descend  to  the  honey, 
and  commence  filling  itself.  This  was  an  important  thing 
to  observe,  and  which  could  be  easily  done  by  gently  rais- 
ing the  hat  a  short  distance.  When  I  supposed  the  Bee  was 
partly  filled,  I  took  suddenly  away  both  hat  and  tumbler, 
and  this  transit  from  darkness  to  light  would  make  it  fly  im- 
mediately. The  manner  of  flight  from  the  dish  of  honey 
is  always  spirally,  rising  higher  and  higher,  until  by  its  re- 
peated circles,  the  proper  height  in  the  air  is  attained,  when 
it  directs  a  perfectly  straight  course  to  the  hive  to  which  it 
belongs. 

The  ground  which  I  selected  was  generally  so  unobstruct- 
ed by  the  branches  of  trees,  that  I  could  discern  the  flight 
of  the  Bee  for  one  or  two  hundred  yards.  The  time  chosen 
was  on  a  perfectly  still  and  clear  day,  as,  on  a  dark  or  windy 
day,  the  flight  of  the  Bees  would  not  only  be  very  indirect, 
but  the  distance  of  seeing  them  so  short  as  to  prevent  suc- 
cess in  finding  their  hives. 

The  flight  of  a  Bee  is  never  varied  when  passing  to  its 
hive,  unless  to  avoid  some  obstacle.  Indeed,  so  very  direct 
is  its  course,  that  among  those  in  my  neighbourhood  who 
are  acquainted  with  this  circumstance,  it  is  a  proverb,  when 
an  analogous  thing  is  to  be  exemplified,  to  say  that  "  it  goes 
as  straight  as  a  Bee."  However,  when  a  tree  intervenes, 
instead  of  passing  through  its  branches,  instinct  points  out 
to  the  Bee,  the  danger  it  is  often  subject  to  of  being  caught 
by  the  various  fly-catching  birds  which  may  be  sitting  on 
the  limbs  of  the  tree,  which  it  will  always  avoid  by  a  con- 
siderable circular  flight,  or  by  passing  beneath  or  above  the 
tops  of  the  trees. 

The  distance  of  the  hive  from  me  I  could  calculate  to  a 
very  great  certainty,  by  the  time  which  elapsed  between 
tlie  departure  from,  and  return  of,  the  Bee  to  the  dish,  al- 
lowing, as  experience  had  taught  me,  from  three  to  four 
minutes  per  mile;  one  and  a  half,  minute  for  it  to  carry  its 
burden  to  the  hive,  one  or  two  minutes  to  deposit  its  honey, 
(according  to  the  depth  of  the  hole  in  the  tree  into  which  it 
had  to  crawl,)  and  one  minute  to  return  unencumbered.  In 
this  manner  I  have  succeeded  in  finding  hives  at  a  distance 
of  several  miles  from  my  starting  place. 

On  the  return  of  the  Bee  to  the  dish,  its  flight  was 
marked  by  the  same  spiral  movements,  until  it  would  again 
settle  in  the  honey.  This  Bee,  in  every  instance,  was  ac- 
companied by  other  Bees,  which,  having  discovered  the 
spoils  it  brought  to  the  hive,  would  follow  it,  to  partake  of 
the  -same  treasure;  and,  the  shorter  the  distance  to  the  hive, 
the  greater  would  be  the  number  of  visitants  to  the  dish. 
This  was  another  sure  guide  for  me  to  judge  of  the  distance. 
When  a  number  settled  on  the  honey,  I  caught  and  confined 


them  in  the  tumbler,  by  tying  it  with  them  in  my  handker- 
chief. Having  marked  the  course  of  the  first  Bee,  I  then 
carried  my  various  articles  in  that  direction,  (which  I  was 
always  able  to  ascertain  to  a  considerable  distance  by  means 
of  a  pocket  compass,)  perhaps  for  half  a  mile,  or  more  or 
less,  as  I  judged  the  distance  to  the  tree  I  was  in  search  of, 
and,  making  the  same  preparations  as  at  first,  I  placed  the 
tumbler  of  Bees  again  on  the  honey,  and  sufiered  them, 
under  cover  of  my  hat,  to  begin  to  fill  themselves,  when  I 
would  let  them  off,  by  taking  away  the  hat  and  tumbler  as 
before.  This  plan  I  repeated  as  often  as  was  necessary  to 
bring  me  to  the  foot  of  the  tree  which  contained  the  swarm 
of  Bees.  As  I  approached  the  spot,  the  Bees  would  con- 
gregate in  greater  numbers  about  the  dish:  the  party  flying 
from  the  plate  always  returning  with  recruits. 

I  never  sufiered  my  prisoner  Bees  to  fill  themselves  to 
surfeit,  as,  in  this  case,  my  efforts  would  have  been  useless, 
for  these  Bees  would  never  have  returned  again. 

The  description  of  trees  on  which  I  usually  found  these 
hives  were  the  white  pine  and  hemlock,  and  the  entrance 
for  the  swarm  mostly  was  a  small  hole,  situated,  generally, 
high  in  the  trunk,  *  in  which  case  it  was  difficult  to  discover 
it;  but  when  situated  nearer  the  earth,  the  ingress  and  egress 
of  the  Bees  would  be  plainly  seen,  on  the  first  approach  to 
the  tree.  It  frequently  happened,  that,  owing  to  the  very 
great  height  of  the  hives,  I  had  to  resort  to  a  variation  in 
my  mode  of  finding  them,  and  this  would  be  by  marking 
the  suspected  tree  with  an  axe,  and  then,  with  my  honey, 
tumbler,  and  prisoner  Bees,  I  would  take  a  side  position  of 
several  hundred  yards  from  the  tree  which  I  had  marked 
with  my  axe,  and  from  this  position,  start  some  Bees, 
in  order  to  get  a  cross  line,  or  form  a  right  angle  by  their 
flight,  and,  having  watched  the  course  of  the  Bees,  I  marked 
this  line  until  it  crossed  the  first  line,  at  which  spot  I  inva- 
riably found  the  swarm,  and,  not  unfrequently,  in  the  iden- 
tical tree  that  I  had  marked. 

It  sometimes  happened  that  I  would  pass  the  tree  contain- 
ing the  swarm,  in  which  case  the  Bees  let  off  would  not  re- 
turn to  my  dish;  and  I  had  then  to  resort  to  the  expedient 
of  making  a  fire  and  heating  some  stones,  on  vyhich  I  placed 
some  honeycomb,  until  a  considerable  smoke  was  produced; 
the  fumes  ascending  would  attract  the  notice  of  the  Bees, 
and  would  bring  them  in  numbers  to  the  spot.   I  then  placed 

*  As  there  are  more  animals  beside  man  wliieh  are  fond  of  sweet  things, 
the  Bees  seem  to  be  aware  of  the  number  and  voracity  of  tlieir  enemies, 
hence  the  reason  of  their  choosing  large  trees  and  small  holes  as  entrances 
for  their  hives,  in  order  to  keep  out  intruders  from  their  honey.  Foxes  and 
Bears  are  among  tlieir  most  formidable  enemies,  and  while  the  former,  with 
all  tlicir  cunning,  fail  frequently  in  obtaining  this  mellifluous  plunder,  the 
latter,  by  boldness,  ability  to  climb,  and  the  impervious  nature  of  their  skin 
to  the  weapons  of  the  Bees,  seldom  fail  to  secure  honey  from  hives,  of  which 
they  are  immoderately  fond. 


236 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


the  dish  within  their  reach,  and  not  only  obtained  the  pre- 
cise course  to  this  hive,  but  have  frequently  made  prisoners 
of  Bees,  drawn  from  other,  and  more  distant  hives.  The 
members  of  the  two  communities  could  be  easily  disiinguish- 
ed,  as,  the  moment  one  approached  the  other,  a  battle  be- 
tween them  VN'ould  immediately  ensue. 

When  a  hive  was  favourably  situated,  on  a  moderate  size 
tree,  I  would  prefer  climbing  to  the  spot,  and  thrust  in  a 
lighted  match  of  brimstone,  and  disable  the  Bees,  until  I 
thought  I  could  take  the  honey  with  safety.  I  would  then 
cut  a  hole  beside  the  hive  and  take  the  honey  away,  and 
having  provided  a  small  line  and  a  bucket,  would  lower  it 
down  by  degrees,  until  all  was  accomplished.  In  this  way, 
I  have  not  unfrequently  obtained  from  one  hundred  and  fifty 
to  two  hundred  pounds  of  honey  from  a  single  hive. 

When  the  trees  were  large,  and  the  hive  at  a  great  dis- 
tance from  the  ground,  the  only  plan  to  obtain  the  honey 
was  to  cut  down  the  tree;  and,  although  this  is  the  easiest 
plan,  yet  it  ought  not  to  be  adopted,  unless  the  other  fails, 
as,  should  the  tree  be  very  hollow,  it  will  break  in  its  fall, 
and  most  of  the  honey  would  be  lost.  It  is  also  attended 
with  danger,  because  the  anxiety  to  secure  the  honey  before 
it  runs  away,  will  cause  many  persons  to  run  immediately 
to  the  hive,  and  they  are  often  punished  most  severely  by 
the  Bees,  which  swarm  on  the  outside  at  first  to  ascertain 
the  cause  of  their  disturbance,  but  soon  return  again  into 
the  hole,  when  they  can  be  destroyed  by  means  of  sulphur, 
and  their  honey  taken.  T.  M.  H. 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF  A  TRUE  SPORTSMAN. 

A  TRUE  Sportsman  always  respects  the  rules  and  seasons 
for  shooting,  and  most  heartil)-  despises  the  man  who  de- 
stroys the  unfledged  brood,  or  the  protectors  which  Nature 
has  provided  for  them. 

He  is  provided  with  every  article  necessary  for  his  excur- 
sions, without  borrowing  from  his  neighbour,  or  eternally 
boring  his  friends  for  their  guns,  dogs,  or  horses. 

In  his  general  exterior,  he  appears  neat,  clean,  and  pro- 
perly accoutred.  His  dogs  are  mannerly,  because,  by  dis- 
cipline, they  are  restrained  to  proper  limits,  and,  when  he 
visits  a  distant  friend,  these  dogs  avoid  running  into  parlours, 
chambers,  or  stealing  viands  from  the  kitchen  fire.  They 
hunt  properl}',  and  require  no  noise,  because  he  has  in- 
structed them  in  the  fundamental  principles  of  hunting. 

lie  neither  curses  at,  nor  abuses  his  dogs,  but,  when  ne- 
cessary, chastises  them  in  cool  blood,  because  good  breeding 
has  taught  him  the  fallacy  of  swearing  at  a  dumb  brute;  or 
venting  his  passion  on  another,  when  the  fault  too  commonly 
springs  from  other  sources. 


To  his  dogs  he  is  merciful  and  provident;  he  consults 
their  comfort,  and,  if  he  will  draw  recreation  from  their 
services,  he  repays  them  by  humanity. 

In  the  field,  his  demeanour  is  correct,  and  free  from  im- 
petuosity; deliberation  marks  all  his  actions,  and  his  expe- 
rience is  never  chargeable  with  carelessness,  or  danger,  to 
his  companions;  to  the  more  inexperienced  who  accompany 
him;  he  is  kind,  and  willing  to  confer  knowledge;  to  con- 
tribute to  their  pleasure  by  giving  many  opportunities  to 
shoot,  without  greedily  embracing  them  himself,  for  the 
sake  of  bagging  game.  When  the  dogs  point,  he  does  not 
rush  up  to  the  game  before  his  companions  are  near,  and 
take  the  first,  and,  perhaps,  the  only  chance  of  shooting. 
If  a  bird  is  killed  in  a  joint  shot,  with  a  companion,  he  is 
cautious  not  to  claim  it,  but  will  yield  it  with  pleasure,  ra- 
ther than  excite  unpleasant  feelings,  or  engender  strife. 

He  is  satisfied  with  a  moderate  quantity  of  game,  and  is 
not  ambitious  to  destroy  life,  for  the  sake  of  making  a  parade 
of  his  success;  and,  when  asked,  he  gives  a  faithful  account 
of  the  number  killed,  and  is  unwilling  to  reap  the  name  of 
a  good  shot,  or  g}'eat  Sportsman,  at  the  expense  of  truth, 
by  exaggerating  his  difficulties,  or  the  account  of  game 
killed,  to  double  of  what  is  the  reality. 

Although  lively  and  communicative  in  company  with 
other  Sportsmen,  he  does  not  boast  of  his  actions,  nor  his 
ability  to  excel  his  neighbour;  neither  does  he  brag  of  his 
exploits,  nor  undervalue  his  friend's  adeptness,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  enhancing  his  own  good  name.  He  hears  the  abili- 
ties of  others  praised  without  envy,  or  ridiculing  their  ex- 
ploits, or  offering  a  bet,  (accompanied  by  an  oath,)  that  him- 
self is  superior.  The  consciousness  of  his  own  qualifications 
does  not  make  him  vain  and  boastful;  he  is  liberal  to  those 
he  employs,  and  a  stranger  to  meanness  of  principle  and  ac- 
tion; he  avoids  injury  to  the  farmer's  crops,  and  never  adds 
insult  where  injury  has  been  unavoidably  caused  by  him  or 
his  dogs. 

He  will  not  waste  time  or  life,  by  shooting  useless  birds, 

merely  to  gratify  vanity,  by  showing  how  well  he  can  shoot. 

If  he  drinks  spirituous  liquors  during  his  excursions,  he 

does  it  moderately,  so  that  he  may,  by  its  inebriating  effects, 

neither  endanger  his  friends,  nor  disgrace  their  company. 

Should  he  borrow  from  his  friend  a  dog  or  gun,  he  will 
not  send  the  one  home  in  a  starving  condition,  nor  the  other 
broken,  dirty,  and  unfit  for  use. 

If  he  makes  an  appointment,  he  is  strict  to  accomplish 
it,  and  does  not  waste  his  time  in  bed  hours  after  the  period 
to  meet  his  companion  has  elapsed. 

Unless  a  man  is  more  or  less  governed  by  the  above,  he 
cannot  lay  claim  to  those  princij)les  which  constitute  a  cor- 
rect Sportsman. 

D. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


ON  THE  VICIOUS  HABITS  AND  PROPENSITIES  OF  HORSES. 
Br  Thomas  R.  Yare, 

(Continued  from  page  216.) 

CRIB  BITING. 

I  have  occasionally  excited  the  ire  of  grooms,  by  re- 
questinsi;  them  to  abandon  the  practice  of  using  the  rack- 
cJiain.  These  gentlemen,  when  interrogated  as  to  the  utility 
of  attaching  the  head  to  the  rack,  usually  answer,  "  To  pre- 
vent the  horse  lying  down,  and  dirtying  his  quarters!" 
But  the  true  reason  is,  they  are  fearful  of  a  little  extra 
ti-ouble,  in  case  the  animal  should  be  wanted  at  a  short 
notice.  When  I  have  inquired  if  the  horse  was  habituated 
to  lying  down  in  the  day-time,  or  whether  he  has  been  ever 
known  so  to  do,  the  response  given  is  usually,  "No;  we 
never  actually  saw  him  down  during  the  day,  but  we  have 
always  been  accustomed  to  tie  him  up."  Therefore,  ac- 
cording to  their  own  showing,  they  give  the  poor  beast 
this  unnecessary  restraint  from  no  other  cause  but  custom, 
which  they  blindly  and  implicitly  follow,  though  they  can 
adduce  no  benefit  resulting  from  its  observance.  Custom 
and  prejudice  are  most  imperious  tyrants,  and  rule  triumph- 
ant over  horsemen,  as  well  as  other  classes  of  society. 
There  are  certain  points  established,  certain  axioms  laid 
down,  and  the  nine  people  out  of  ten,  who  never  think  for 
themselves,  take  every  thing  upon  credit,  and  implicitly 
fall  into  the  regulated  course  of  opinion  generally  held, 
without  stopping  to  inquire  whether  it  happens  to  be  just 
or  unjust,  tolerably  right,  or  entirely  wrong. 

If  the^  horse  be  addicted  to  lying  down  in  the  day-time,  I 
have  generally  found,  on  inspection,  that  he  is  either  sick  or 
lame,  and  consequently  required  immediate  attention.  Now, 
to  tie  horses  to  the  rack  under  such  circumstances,  is  obvi- 
ously an  act  of  cruelty.  In  my  opinion,  to  attach  any 
horse  to  the  rack,  only  serves  to  pave  the  way  for  the  oc- 
curence of  those  habits  and  vices  which  have  for  so  many 
years  baffled  the  attempts  of  horsemen  to  prevent,  correct, 
and  eradicate  with  certainty  and  permanency. 

^lany  continue  pertinaciously  to  assert  that  crib-biting  is 
not  injurious  to  the  strength  of  horses.  I  am  free  to  admit 
that  they  sometimes  go  through  very  arduous  tasks  and  fleet 
performances,  and  may  probably  occasionally  win  a  race ; 
but  capability  of  exertion  would  be  still  more  evident,  and 
the  rapidity  of  his  course  insreased,  if  the  malady  were  re- 
moved. But  no  positive  reliance  can  be  placed  in  the  exer- 
tions of  a  crib-biter  or  wind-sucker;  for  thenatural  power  and 
ability  of  the  animal  must  inevitably  be  weakened,  and  ul- 
timately yield  altogether  to  the  ravages  the  indulgence  of 
these  propensities  occasion  on  the  frame  of  the  animal,  if 
prosecuted  for  any  length  of  time. 
30 


A  horse  may  be  addicted  to  cribbing,  and  yet  its  pernici- 
ous effects  shall  not  be  perceptible,  except  to  those  who  are 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  smyptoms  incidental  to,  and 
which  uniformly  accompany,  the  practice  of  the  habit.  I 
have  known  many  horses  labouring  under  this  nialad}', 
whose  condition  appeared  so  good  to  the  casual  observer,  that 
theirownershavedoubted  my  allegations  astotheirweakness; 
but  a  little  extra  exertion,  in  company  with  a  sound  horse 
of  apparently  equal  power  and  capabilitj',  soon  convinced 
the  party  of  their  error — the  strength  of  the  crib-biter,  after 
a  short  trial,  proving  very  inferior  to  that  of  his  opponent. 
I  know  well  that  horses  indulging  in  the  propensity  must  of 
necessity  be  injured  or  impaired  in  their  stamina.  Acting 
upon  this  calculation,  when  attending  races,  and  accidentally 
discovering  that  any  particular  horse  was  either  a  crib-biter 
or  wind-sucker,  although  he  might  be  a  "  favorite,"  to  use 
a  turf  phrase,  "  I  uniformly  back  him  to  lose,  and  am  gene- 
rally right." 

I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  a  crib-biter  is  bona  fide 
an  unsound  horse;  and,  notwithstanding  the  warring  litiga- 
tions that  may  have  occurred  occasionally  in  consequence  of 
the  habit,  when  a  totally  opposite  notion  to  mine  has  been 
entertained  on  the  question,  yet  I  cannot  avoid  arraying  my 
individual  opinion  in  opposition  to  the  fearful  host  of  dissen- 
tients who  may  start  up  against  me,  when  my  assertion  is 
perused.  I  verily  believe  that  a  crib-biter,  sold  ivith  a 
warranty  of  soundness,  is,  to  all  intents  and  pui-poses,  , 
returnable:  and  I  think  I  cannot  be  accounted  unfair  or  er- 
roneous in  this  position,  founded  on  the  well-ascertained 
fact,  that  "crib-biting  horses  are  injured  in  their  stamina." 

That  Nestor  among  veterinarians,  Mr.  Bracy  Clark — to 
whom  the  horse  is  so  greatly  indebted,  not  only  for  his  val- 
uable publications,  but  likewise  for  the  discovery  of  many 
parts  and  properties  of  the  foot  of  the  horse,  and  above  all 
his  perfection  of  the  expansion  shoe — observes  very  truly 
in  his  remarks  on  this  subject,  that  "the  crib-biting  horse 
has  generally  a  lean,  constricted  appearance,  the  skin  being 
contracted  about  the  ribs;  or  a  sunken,  watery  eye,  or  else 
too  dry;  the  muscles  of  the  face  also,  as  well  as  the  skin, 
drawn  up  Avith  rigidness.  When  unemployed  in  eating, 
his  almost  constant  amusement  is  to  grasp  the  rail  of  the 
manger  with  his  front  teeth,  then  to  draw  himself  up  to  it, 
as  to  a  fixed  point,  by  a  general  contraction  of  tlie  head, 
neck,  and  trunk;  at  the  same  time  the  effort  is  attended  witii 
a  grunting  sound." 

Now,  many  veterinary  surgeons  are  of  opinion  that  the 
particular  noise  made  by  the  horse  is  caused  by  the  expul- 
sion of  air,  and  that  crib-biting  is  in  fact  nothing  more  than 
an  effort  at  eructation,  arising  from  indigestion  or  some 
viscid  state  of  the  stomach;  whilst  others  pretend  to  say, 
that  the  habit  is  caused  from  pain  in  the  feet.     If  either  of 


238 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  fflSTORY 


these  opinions  were  correct,  to  remove  this  destructive  pro- 
pensity, recourse  must  necessarily  be  had  to  the  Materia 
Medica,  and  the  animal  should  be  treated  according  to  the 
rules  of  veterinary  science.  That  these  judgments  must  be 
erroneous,  I  prove  clearly  by  the  system  I  have  established, 
which  enables  me  to  eradicate  crib-biting  and  wind-sucking 
without  the  aid  of  medicine. 

My  attention,  as  I  have  before  stated,  has  been  directed 
to  the  prevention  and  cure  of  this  destructive  malady  during 
a  long  period;  and  although  I  may  dissent  from  many  very 
respectable  authorities,  I  must  remark,  that,  during  the 
whole  course  of  my  experience,  I  have  uniformly  observed 
that  a  crib-biter  (as  well  as  wind-sucker)  inhales  air  into 
the  stomach,  which,  from  its  construction,  he  cannot  exhale 
or  degurgitate;  for  horses,  unlike  dogs  and  many  other  ani- 
mals, can  neither  belch  nor  vomit,  consequently  in  its  pro- 
gress through  the  stomach  and  bowels,  the  oxygen,  or  elas- 
tic property  of  the  air,  is  taken  up  by  the  system,  which 
causes  a  redundancy  of  fixed  air  in  the  abdominal  parts — 
hence  arises  flatulency,  which  of  course  produces  indiges- 
tion, general  debility,  and  an  impaired  stamina;  and  these 
alarming  effects,  if  not  attended  to  and  removed,  must  na- 
turally lead  to  disorders  of  dangerous  tendencies. 

To  broach  an  opinion  of  this  import  is,  I  know,  in  oppo- 
sition to  the  sentiments  entertained  by  many  hippologists; 
and  that  I  may  be  clearly  understood  by  every  reader,  I 
have  purposely  avoided  the  use  of  scientific  words  or  tech- 
nical phraseology,  and  expressed  my  meaning  in  plain  un- 
assuming language. 

Others,  however,  of  acknowledged  skill  and  ability  in 
their  profession  have  lately  had  the  liberality  to  confess, 
that,  on  mature  consideration  of  the  subject,  they  considered 
I  was  correct,  and  encouraged  me  to  proceed  in  my  course. 
With  much  labour,  patience,  and  perseverance,  I  aimed 
at  the  discovery  of  the  proximate  cause  of  crib-biting. 
My  studies  have  been  practical,  for  I  could  meet  with  no 
satisfactory  information  in  books.  I  made  experiments  of 
various  kinds,  repeated  and  improved  them,  and  thus  ap- 
proached nearer  to  my  object,  till  at  length  I  had  the  plea- 
sure of  perceiving  that  I  was  in  the  right  track. 

That  the  crib-biter  inhales  more  air  into  the  stomach  than 
he  can  exhale,  I  am  convinced;  and  on  that  conviction  have 
founded  my  system  for  the  treatment  of  the  malady;  the  ap- 
plication of  which  I  may  assert  without  presumption,  cannot 
fail  of  success,  if  attended  to  with  sincerity  and  good  will 
on  the  part  of  grooms  and  other  stable  domectics. 

A  crib-biter  of  any  standing  becomes  soured  in  temper; 
his  natural  strength  soon  gives  way;  weakness  more  or  less 
ensues;  and  he  is  rendered  unfit  for  a  proper  day's  work: 
yet  horses  labouring  under  the  effects  of  this  propensity  are 
expected  by  their  proprietors  to  perform  the  most  violent 


exertions,  and  the  fleetest  and  most  rapid  efforts  are  requir- 
ed of  them!  Hunting,  racing,  in  short  every  duty  is  im- 
posed indiscriminately  with  sound  animals,  till  the  poor 
beast  sinks  prematurely  under  his  accumulated  misery,  and 
is  thus  rendered  unserviceable  many  years  before  his  natu- 
ral term.  Under  kind  and  judicious  treatment,  the  horse 
would  be  much  longer  lived  than  is  generally  supposed,  as 
existing  facts  testify. 

Various  remedies,  purporting  to  be  infallible,  for  vicious 
horses  have  of  late  years  been  put  forth  to  the  world,  but 
nothing  has  in  reality  been  gained  by  them.  I  allude  to  tor- 
turing straps,  bands,  and  othervexatious  applications,  which 
only  tend  to  sour  the  disposition  of  the  animal,  and  on  their 
removal  leave  him  more  inveterately  addicted  to  his  evil 
habits.  Others,  from  want  of  a  better  remedy,  have  re- 
course to  loathsome  and  nauseous  experiments,  which  are  as 
futile  as  they  are  disgusting,  and  cannot  possibly  be  expect- 
ed to  produce  any  permanently  good  effects;  for  as  the  mat- 
ter or  ordure  employed  dries  and  hardens,  it  naturally  loses 
its  effluvia,  and  consequently  requires  repetition  to  make  the 
process  adopted  effectual,  even  if  it  were  proper  to  pursue  it 
An  accumulation  of  filth  on  the  manger  is  the  result;  and 
we  all  know  that  that  utensil  should  be  kept  particularly 
clean.  I  have  no  patience  when  I  reflect  on  such  proceed- 
ings. It  is  obvious  to  any  one  conversant  with  horses,  that 
a  filthy  stable  is  the  forerunner  of  disease.  The  only  conse- 
quence emanating  from  conduct  so  inconsiderately  ignorant 
is,  that  the  silly  attendant,  for  his  own  convenience,  is  soon 
compelled  to  remove  the  dirt,  gaining  nothing  but  addition- 
al labour  for  his  assumed  sagacity. 

He  who  pretends  to  correct  the  horse,  by  inventing  appa- 
ratus with  that  view,  should  previously  study  the  nature  and 
character  of  the  animal,  in  addition  to  the  contemplation  of 
his  own  emolument.  To  exemplify  this  observation,  let  us 
consider  for  a  moment  the  fate  of  the  straps  with  the  spring 
and  spikes.  They  were  introduced  under  the  protection  of 
weighty  patronage;  and  all  that  influence  could  do  was 
adopted  to  facilitate  their  reception  in  the  highest  quarters, 
and  render  their  adoption  general.  They  were  predomi- 
nant for  a  time,  and  were  probably  esteemed  by  persons 
unacquainted  with  the  matter,  who  received  the  ipse  dixit 
of  others  as  truth  "sacred  as  Holy  Writ;"  and  accordingly 
the  straps  were  considered  and  recommended  by  many  per- 
sons as  a  certain  cure  for  crib-biters.  However,  when  es- 
sayed by  those  whose  knowledge  and  intelligence  could 
be  relied  on,  it  was  discovered  that  they  could  never  fulfil 
the  object  promised  to  purchasers,  and  not  the  most  distant 
prospect  of  efficacy  could  be  entertained.  Their  application 
only  served  to  alarm,  irritate,  and  tease  the  horse,  without 
producing  any  beneficial  effects;  and  on  their  removal,  he 
was  generally  found  as  inveterately  addicted  to  his  propen- 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


sity  as  ever.  A  horse  will  never  become  tractable  under 
fear,  which  is  soon  excited,  as  his  timidity  is  proverbial. 
What  is  rational  can  only  be  attained  by  rational  ways;  and 
in  nature  an  object  cannot  be  compassed  but  by  means  con- 
sistent with  nature.  The  straps  were  invented  without  any 
adherence  to  this  maxim;  hence  their  inutility  and  conse- 
quent downfall. 

Covering  the  top  of  the  manger  with  a  sheep-skin,  the 
woolly  side  outwards,  is  a  remedy  still  in  vogue  amongst 
persons  who  act  and  move  upon  second-hand  information. 
This  insignificant  process  continues  a  favorite,  and  is  very 
sagely  recommended  as  a  preventive  in  many  of  the  provin- 
ces. I  have  more  than  once  seen  it  used  as  a  precaution, 
and  in  London  too,  above  all  places! 

The  execrable  and  infamous  custom  of  burning  the  palate 
of  the  mouth  as  an  antidote  to  crib-biting,  cannot  be  too 
strongly  reprobated,  and  must  not  be  passed  over  in  silence: 
but,  without  stopping  to  descant  on  the  cruelty  of  this  prac- 
tice, I  have  merely  to  observe  that  the  proselytes  to  it  have 
gained  very  little  by  their  barbarity;  as  the  horse  is  only 
checked  so  long  as  the  soreness  and  tenderness  caused  by  the 
cauterising  exist,  and  no  sooner  has  the  pain  subsided  than 
he  recommences  operations.  Should  a  gentleman  discover 
the  wound,  the  inflictors,  ashamed  of  their  proceedings,  take 
special  care  not  to  divulge  the  real  cause,  but  quibble  and 
prevaricate,  till  at  length  I  have  known  them  hit  upon  the 
expedient  of  informing  an  inquirer  that  the  poor  thing  had 
been  seared  for  the  lampas,  evincing  by  the  subterfuge  as 
much  ignorance  as  they  possess  want  of  feeling! 

Althougli  a  digression,  I  cannot  help  remarking  that 
burning  for  the  lampas  is  a  stigma  to  our  national  character, 
and  a  disgrace  to  the  veterinary  practice.  If  we  would  only 
have  a  little  patience.  Nature  would  in  due  course  perform 
her  functions.  The  arrogant  attempts  of  man  to  render  her 
precocious  only  aggravate  the  evil,  by  the  unnecessary  in- 
fliction of  torture  on  the  horse.  Let  us  allow  time:  Nature 
will  help  herself  without  our  aid,  not  only  in  this  instance, 
but  in  many  others  where  cruelty  is  the  order  of  the  day. 
But  to  proceed — 

The  barbarous  and  inhuman  use  of  pulleys,  chains,  and 
straps  as  correctives,  is  a  mode  of  treatment  attended  with 
numberless  injuries  to  men  and  horses.  The  latter  have 
not  unfrequently  been  rendered  unmanageable  by  them,  as 
is  proved  by  the  numerous  accidents  which  have  occurred 
solely  by  their  application.  Several  preventives  which  I 
could  name  are  a  shame  to  humanity:  tying  the  tongue,  the 
ear,  and  the  tail  with  whipcord,  and  many  other  torturing 
rough-riding  tricks  well  known  to  a  certain  class  of  horse- 
men, are  equally  cruel,  and  not  less  prejudicial  to  the  cha- 
racter of  the  horse,  as  well  as  dangerous  to  the  personal  safe- 
ty of  the  owner  when  using  him.      Experience  teaches. 


that  the  natural  timidity  of  this  noble  animal  is  increased 
by  repeated  harsh  usage;  so  that  he  loses  all  confidence  in 
man,  makes  resistance  on  every  occasion  when  approached, 
and  at  length  becomes  useless,  or  totally  unserviceable. 

As  I  quote  from  memory,  it  cannot  be  expected  that  I 
should  enumerate  all  the  cruel  operations  in#luded  in  the 
nomenclature  of  remedies  for  vicious  horses,  which  deserve 
the  more  appropriate  designation  of  torments.  The  inflic- 
tions to  which  that  generous  animal  is  subjected,  under  the 
mistaken  notion  of  eradicating  crib-biting  or  other  bad  ha- 
bits, and  rendering  him  more  subservient  to  man,  are  shock- 
ing to  relate.  The  foremost  in  the  rank  of  wickedness,  and 
which  I  shall  select  as  a  concluding  elucidation  of  the  sub- 
ject of  torture,  are  the  lacerations  committed  on  the  tongue 
of  the  poor  ill-treated  beast:  sometimes  by  slitting  it;  on 
other  occasions  cutting  a  portion  of  the  tip  completely  off; 
at  other  times  dividing  the  nerve;  and  in  some  instances 
passing  a  red-hot  tobacco  pipe,  or  wire  of  an  equivalent 
thickness,  underneath  the  tongue,  thereby  excoriating  and 
blistering  the  most  sensitive  and  tender  part  of  the  organ. 
Pro  tempore!  pro  mores!  these  are  refinements  in  cruelty 
which  "  out  Herod  Herod,"  and  may  probably  startle  some 
of  my  readers:  but,  unfortunately,  they  are  but  too  true. 

But  I  am  weary  of  the  subject,  and  consider  I  have  advan- 
ced sufficient  reasons  to  convince  every  person  possessing  a 
spark  of  humanity,  and  at  all  interested  in  the  welfare  of  do- 
mestic animals,  that  it  is  high  time  something  should  be  done 
to  relieve  the  sufferings,  and  rectify  the  injuries  the  horse  has 
received  at  our  hands.  If  my  feeble  efforts  to  obtain  redress 
for  him  be  the  means  of  procuring  in  his  behalf  advocates 
of  more  intelligence  and  influence  than  I  can  boast,  I  shall 
deem  m3'self  amply  compensated,  and  anticipate  with  con- 
fidence a  speedy  alteration  for  the  better  in  the  present  er- 
roneous system  of  stable  management. 


THE  CAPTIVE  EAGLE. 

A  B.U.LAD. 

Br  Charles  West  Thomson. 

An  Eagle  sat  on  the  stormy  peak 

Of  a  mountain's  rugged  crag, 
Where  the  winds  of  the  winter  whistled  bleak 

And  uttered  their  boisterous  brag. 

His  head  was  as  bald  as  the  cliff  where  he  sat, 
And  his  neck  was  as  white  as  its  snow. 

And  his  eye  was  like  that  of  the  mountain  cat. 
When  he  glares  on  his  prey  below. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


On  tlie  scathed  limb  of  an  ancient  oak, 

He  had  taken  his  lofty  stand, 
And  thence  he  looked  down  where  wreaths  of  smoke 

Gave  tokens  of  cultured  land. 

And  away  and  away  did  his  gaze  extend 

O'er  the  ocean's  waters  blue, 
And  he  heard  the  roar  on  the  distant  shore 

Where  the  snow-white  sea  gulls  flew. 

He  had  perched  his  nest  on  that  mountain's  brow, 

In  the  eye  of  the  glorious  sun, 
And  he  looked  on  the  face  of  the  day-king  now. 

As  for  many  long  years  he  had  done. 

He  had  seen  his  eaglets  thence  go  forth 

To  the  chase  of  the  hawk  on  the  sea, 
He  had  sailed  on  the  icy-winged  blast  of  the  North, 

And  screamed  as  he  rode  it  with  glee. 

Long  years  had  he  dwelt  on  that  mountain  height. 

And  sailed  o'er  that  ocean's  gloom, 
When  the  morning  was  bright,  or  the  blackness  of  night 

Made  darker  the  tempest's  plume. 

Long  j'ears  had  he  stood  by  that  roaring  flood. 
And  that  rock  was  his  kingdom's  throne. 

By  the  storm-rent  oak  his  decree  he  spoke, 
And  his  will  was  his  law  alone. 

Even  now  he  sat  on  that  oak  so  bare, 

IMajestic  and  proud  and  free, 
The  emblem  at  once,  and  the  glorious  heir 

Of  nature's  liberty. 

He  sat  with  his  noble  wings  outspread 

For  a  flight  o'er  the  sunny  land, 
And  he  launched  thro'  the  air  like  an  arrow  that's  sped 

From  a  practised  archer's  hand. 

Away  deep  down  to  the  scene  below 

He  flew  on  fearless  wing, 
And  he  paused  where  a  waterfall  turned  into  snow 

The  stream  of  a  woodland  spring. 

Ah!  bird  of  royalty !  sad  for  thee 

To  have  left  thy  mountain  height. 
Where  thy  way  was  unwatched,  and  thy  wing  was  free, 

And  none  to  arrest  thy  flight. 

For  the  hunter  has  marked  thy  downward  course. 

And  fixed  on  thee  his  eye — 
And  has  lifted  his  gun  to  the  noon-day  sun. 

And  said  that  thou  shalt  die. 

A  flash — a  roar — the  Eagle  rose 

From  the  tree  where  his  perch  had  been, — 


And  the  echo  that  woke  from  the  forest  of  oak, 
Shouted  loud  as  to  chide  the  sin. 

He  soared  away  on  his  upward  flight, 

As  he  uttered  a  piercing  cry, 
But  suddenly  dropped,  like  the  meteor  of  night 

That  falls  in  a  summer  sky. 

With  a  broken  wing  he  could  no  more  seek 

To  rise  in  the  glare  of  day — 
So  the  monarch  that  reigned  on  the  mountain's  peak, 

Was  carried  a  captive  away. 

In  a  sumptuous  cage  was  the  Eagle  placed. 

And  his  food  was  served  with  care. 
And  the  hunter  sought  to  provide  his  taste 

With  all  that  was  rich  and  rare. 

His  meat  in  a  dainty  dish  was  brought, 

And  his  drink  in  a  basin  trim. 
But  that  which  he  most  desired  and  sought, 

0  that  was  not  brought  to  him. 

Where  were  the  woods  with  their  scathed  trees. 

Where  -vvas  the  torrent's  roar, 
Where  was  the  sigh  of  the  Northern  breeze, 

The  surf  on  the  wind-beat  shore  ? 

Where  were  the  ocean's  crested  waves, 

Where  were  the  flower-crowned  hills. 
Where  were  the  mossy  rocks  and  caves 

Where  were  the  chiming  rills? 

Where,  where  were  the  high  majestic  peaks, 

Where  the  sun  in  his  glory  shined? 
0  he  had  all  these  in  his  memories, 

It  was  these  for  which  he  pined. 

With  a  spirit  broke,  like  his  wounded  wing, 

As  a  flower  that  is  nipt  by  the  frost. 
He  was  wearing  away  and  withering, 

For  the  life  of  his  life  was  lost. 

While  the  noble  bird  was  in  thraldom's  tether 

To  soothe  him  was  all  in  vain — 
The  mountain  monarch  was  altogether 

Unfitted  for  slavery's  chain. 

He  could  not  endure  his  splendid  prison 

When  summer  was  in  the  sky. 
He  could  not  endure  when  the  sun  had  uprisen, 

To  watch  him  with  captive  eye. 

A  free  breath  from  the  mountains  came  o'er  him  again- 

When  rising  in  native  pride, 
He  buried  his  talons  deep,  deep  in  his  brain. 

And,  a  martyr  to  liberty,  died. 


^?T^¥n~^ 


-:;^^^ 


AND  .-AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 
CANADA   PORCUPINE. 


241 


HYSTRIX  PILOSUS. 

Hystrix  Pilosiis  ^mericanus,  Catesbt.  Carol,  app.  p. 
30.  Richardson,  Faun.  %.1m.  hor.  214.  Porcupine 
from  Hudson's  bay,  Ed\vards.  Cavia  Hudsonius, 
Klein,  Quad.  p.  51.  Hystrix  Hudsonius,  Brisson, 
Regn.  an.  p.  148.  Hystrix  dorsata.  Lix.  syst.  p.  57. 
Canada  Porcupine,  Forster,  Phil.  Tran.  Ixii.  p.  374. 
Pennant,  Quad.  ii.  p.  126.  Godman,  ii.  160.  Bear 
Porcupine,  Harlan.  190.  Porcupine  of  North  Ame- 
rica, CozzENS,  Ann.  Lyceum,  Nat.  Hist.  i.  190. 
Eretizon  dorsatum,  F.  Cuvier,  Mem.  de  Mus.  ix.  p. 
431. — Philadelphia  Museum. 

The  Porcupines  belong  to  the  genus  Hystrix,  Lin., 
which  is  characterised  bj-  having  the  clavicles  imperfect, 
two  incisor  teeth  in  each  jaw,  and  four  molars  both  above 
and  below  on  each  side,  these  have  flat  crowns,  surrounded 
by  a  line  of  enamel,  which  enters  into  both  edges,  appears 
to  divide  the  tooth  into  two  portions ;  there  are  also  small 
lines  of  enamel  radiating  from  the  centre  which  are  worn 
down  by  attrition;  the  muzzle  is  thick  and  truncated;  the 
lip  divided;  the  tongue  furnished  with  spiny  scales;  the  ears 
short  and  round;  the  anterior  feet  have  four  toes,  whilst  the 
posterior  have  five,  all  armed  with  thick  nails.  Cuvier, 
however,  divides  this  genus  into  HrsTRis,  AxHETrRA, 
Eretison,  and  Stnethera.  The  sub-genus  Eretison, 
which  is  founded  on  the  subject  of  our  present  sketch,  is 
distinguished  by  the  head  being  flat,  the  muzzle  short  and 
not  arched,  the  tail  of  a  moderate  length,  the  spines  short 
and  almost  hidden  in  the  hair. 

The  common  Porcupine,  {H.  crisiata)  although  known 
from  the  earliest  ages,  has  given  rise  to  numberless  fables; 
among  which,  that  commonly  received,  is,  that  it  pos- 
sesses the  power  of  ejecting  its  quills  to  a  considerable 
distance  when  irritated  or  pursued;  but  although  it  has  not 
this  mode  of  defending  itself,  it  is  by  no  means  a  contempti- 
ble antagonist,  as  when  attacked  it  will  throw  itself  with 
great  fierceness  towai-ds  its  opponent,  and  almost  always 
sideways,  and  as  it  is  on  the  sides  that  the  spines  are  strong- 
est it  often  inflicts  wounds  by  means  of  them;  its  bite  is  also 
very  severe,  from  the  strength  and  size  of  its  incisor  teeth. 
The  use  of  this  armature  has  been  the  subject  of  inquiry 
among  naturalists,  and  does  not  appear  to  be  well  under- 
stood; the  most  probable  idea,  however,  is,  that,  like  that 
of  the  Hedgehog,  it  is  merely  for  defence,  as,  like  that  ani- 
mal, it  has  the  power  of  rolling  itself  into  a  ball,  and  thus 
presenting  a  phalanx  of  spears  on  every  side,  that  renders 
the  attacks  of  most  animals  perfectly  fruitless;  in  fact,  it  has 
3P 


few  enemies  to  dread  except  that  universal  destroyer — man. 
Thunberg,  however,  attributes  a  most  extraordinary  use  to 
these  spines:  he  says,  he  was  informed  that  the  Ceylonese 
Porcupine  "has  a  very  curious  method  of  fetching  water  for 
its  young,  viz:  the  quills  in  the  tail  are  said  to  be  hollow, 
and  to  have  a  hole  at  the  extremity;  and  that  the  animal  can 
bend  them  in  such  a  manner,  as  that  they  can  be  filled  with 
water,  which  afterwards  is  discharged  in  the  nest  among  the 
young."  This  account,  which  is  as  erroneous  as  that  of 
their  having  the  power  of  shooting  their  quills,  shows  how 
apt  even  naturalists  are  to  adopt  the  current  fables  of  a  coun- 
try on  mere  hearsay,  and  without  investigation  into  their 
verity,  or  even  probability. 

The  Canada  Porcupine  is  a  very  unsightly  and  sluggish 
animal,  and  is  not  provided  with  the  long  quills  so  remark- 
able in  the  last  mentioned  species,  its  armature  consisting  of 
short  sharp  spines  almost  concealed  bj"  the  hair  with  which 
they  are  intermingled.  Bufibn  terms  it  itrson,  intending, 
as  is  observed  by  Dr.  Richardson,  to  recall  the  memory  of 
Hudson,  the  discoverer  of  the  country  where  it  abounds, 
and  also  to  denote  its  spiny  appearance,  resembling  that  of 
the  Hedgehog,  (herisson).  As  will  be  seen  by  the  list  of 
synonymes,  it  has  received  a  variety  of  appellations  from 
difierent  naturalists,  and  as  Catesby's  name  of  pilosus  was 
bestowed  upon  it  prior  to  that  of  dorsata,  we  have  adopted 
it,  though  the  other  is  generally  retained  by  authors.  The 
following  description  of  it,  by  Dr.  Richardson,  is  so  full, 
that  we  extract  it,  instead  of  attempting  to  draw  out  another. 

^'Porm. — Body  thick  and  clumsy,  back  much  arched  in  a 
regular  curve  from  the  nose  to  the  buttocks,  when  it  drops 
more  rapidly  to  the  tail,  which  is  very  low.  Legs  very 
short.  Tail,  short,  thick,  rounded  at  the  tip,  and  turned  a 
little  upwards.  Nose  flattish  above,  broad  and  abrupt 
There  is  a  narrow,  naked  margin  round  the  nostrils,  but 
there  is  no  smooth  dividing  line  on  the  upper  lip.  £yes, 
lateral,  very  small,  and  round.  Ears  situated  behind  and 
above  the  auditory  opening,  covered  as  thickly  with  fur  as 
the  neighouring  parts,  and  entirely  concealed  by  it  Inci- 
sors nearly  as  strong  as  those  of  the  beaver.  They  curve 
forward  a  little  so  as  to  project  beyond  the  nose,  are  convex 
anteriorly  narrower  behind,  and  are  not  much  compressed. 
They  have  a  yellow  colour.  The  crowns  of  the  grinders, 
as  they  wear,  acquire  an  even  surface." 

'^Fur. — The  upper  lip  covered  with  short  hair  of  a  dull 
yellowish  brown  colour.  The  cheeks  and  forehead  are 
clothed  with  liver  brown  hair,  moderately  long,  interspersed 
with  a  very  few  black  and  white  hairs.  The  hair  on  the 
body,  both  above  and  below,  is  long,  and  of  a  dull  liver- 
brown  colour,  intermixed  on  all  the  upper  parts,  and  on  the 
hips  with  still  larger  hairs,  some  of  which  are  entirely  black, 
others  entirely  white,  and  a  third  set  black  at  the  roots  and 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY. 


white  at  tip.  The  white  hairs  are  most  numerous  on  the 
posterior  part  of  the  bod}'.  There  are  also  many  round, 
spindle  shaped,  sharp  pointed  spines  or  quills,  fixed  among 
the  hair  which  covers  the  upper  parts.  The  spines  com- 
mence on  the  crown  of  the  head,  and  are  there  short,  thick, 
very  sharp  pointed  and  very  numerous.  There  are  a  good 
many  longer  and  more  slender  ones  on  the  shoulders  and 
fore  part  of  the  back.  There  are  also  many  on  the  sides 
and  middle  of  the  back,  but  these  are  still  more  slender  and 
flexible,  as  well  as  less  conspicuous.  The  buttocks  and 
thighs  are  thickly  set  with  long,  very  strong,  and  sharp 
spines.  Some  of  these  ase  entirely  white,  others  brown  at 
tip.  The  throat  and  helly  are  covered  with  brown  hair, 
not  so  long  as  that  on  the  back,  lying  more  smoothly,  and 
unmixed  with  either  white  hairs  or  spines.  The  tail  is 
covered  with  brown  hair  above  and  below,  and  soiled  white 
hair  on  its  margin  and  tip.  There  are  many  small  spines 
among  the  hair  on  its  upper  surface. 

"The  legs  are  covered  with  brown  hairs,  mixed  on  their 
exterior  surfaces  with  some  white  ones.  The  palms  are 
nearly  oval  or  rather  egg  shaped,  being  semi-circular  before, 
and  narrower  behind.  There  are  four  very  short  toes  on 
the  fore  feet,  which  are  armed  with  long,  compressed, 
curved,  blackish  claws,  grooved  underneath  their  whole 
length.  Their  points  are  not  acute.  The  middle  or  second 
fore  toe  is  rather  the  longest,  the  one  on  each  side  of  it  is 
scarcely  inferior  in  length,  and  the  outer  one  is  a  little 
smaller  and  somewhat  further  back.  The  hind  soles  are 
oval,  approaching  to  circular,  larger  than  the  palms,  desti- 
tute of  hair  and  covered  with  a  rough  skin  like  shagreen. 
There  are  five  toes  on  the  hind  foot,  which  do  not  differ 
much  from  each  other  in  length,  but  their  roots,  and  con- 
sequently their  extremities,  are  arranged  in  a  curved  line, 
corresponding  with  that  of  the  anterior  margin  of  the  soles. 
The  hind  claws  resemble  the  fore  ones.  The  hair  which 
covers  the  upper  surface  of  the  feet,  curved  down  by  the 
sides  of  the  soles,  and  being  worn  even,  as  if  clipped  off,  it 
forms  a  thick  marginal  brush  which  considerably  increases 
the  diameter  of  the  soles,  and  fits  them  for  walking  on  the 
snow." 

The  Canada  Porcupine,  however,  varies  much  in  colour; 
though  the  above  is  the  most  common,  sometimes  they  have 
been  found  quite  white,  and  at  others  of  an  almost  universal 
dark  brown.  The  spines  or  quills  are  attached  but  slightly  to 
the  skin,  and  from  being  barbed  at  tip  with  numerous  small 
reversed  points  or  prickles,  they  penetrate  by  degrees  very 
deep  into  the  flesh  after  having  been  once  lodged.  On  the 
animal's  being  irritated,  he  has  the  power  of  directing  their 
points  in  every  direction,  and  small  and  insignificant  as 
these  weapons  may  appear,  they  are  capable  of  causing  the 
death  of  dogs,  wolves,  or  indeed  of  any  animal  that  incau- 


tiously attempts  to  seize  the  Porcupine.  These  quills  are 
in  great  request  among  the  aborigines,  v/ho  use  them  in 
great  quantities  in  the  manufacture  of  a  number  of  orna- 
ments, previously  dying  them,  in  a  very  permanent  manner, 
of  variety  of  colours.  As  the  quills  are  but  from  two  to 
three  inches  in  length,  it  requires  no  slight  degree  of  inge- 
nuity and  skill  to  form  the  large  surfaces  of  embroidery  with 
them,  so  common  on  Indian  belts  and  other  articles  of  dress. 
This  work  is  performed  in  several  ways;  by  passing  a  deli- 
cate fibre  of  sinew  through  a  hole  previously  made  with  an 
awl,  and  at  every  stitch  wrapping  it  with  one  or  more  turns 
of  the  quill;  when  this  is  wound  near  to  its  end,  the  extrem- 
ity is  turned  into  the  skin,  or  is  concealed  by  the  next  strip, 
so  that  the  whole  work  appears  as  if  formed  of  a  continuous 
piece;  in  other  cases  the  quills  are  used  without  the  aid  of 
the  sinew,  being  merely  passed  through  the  awl  holes. 
Examples  of  these,  and  in  fact,  of  every  mode  in  which  they 
are  employed  by  our  native  Indians,  may  be  seen  in  the 
unrivalled  collection  of  aboriginal  dresses  belonging  to  the 
Philadelphia  Museum. 

The  Canada  Porcupine  is  principally  found  in  the  northern 
parts  of  the  United  States  and  Canada  as  high  as  67°;  it  also 
occurs  in  some  parts  of  Pennsylvania,  but  is  very  rare 
further  south.  Mr.  Cozzens  states,  that  of  late  years  they 
have  multiplied  greatly,  and  are  become  numerous  near 
Oneida  Lake,  and  in  the  north  western  part  of  the  State  of 
New  York.  In  the  fur  countries,  they  are  most  numerous 
in  sandy  districts  covered  with  the  Pinus  Banksiana  of  the 
bark  of  which  they  are  very  fond.*  They  also  eat  the  bark 
of  the  larch  and  spruce  fir,  and  the  buds  of  various  species 
of  willow.  Further  south,  their  food  is  principally  composed 
of  the  bark  and  leaves  of  the  hemlock  and  bassvvood,  though 
they  are  also  fond  of  sweet  apples,  Indian  corn,  &c.,  which 
they  eat  in  a  sitting  posture,  using  their  fore  paws  like  the 
squirrels. 

They  are  very  slow  in  their  movements,  and  remain  in 
the  same  spot  for  a  long  time.  Hearne  says,  "that  the  In- 
dians, going  with  packets  from  fort  to  fort,  often  see  them 
in  the  trees,  but  not  having  occasion  for  them  at  that  time, 
leave  them  till  they  return;  and  should  their  absence  be  for 
a  week  or  ten  daj^s,  they  are  sure  to  find  them  witliin  a  mile 
of  the  place  where  they  had  seen  them  before."  When 
moving,  the  tail  hangs  down  very  low,  and  in  the  winter 
makes  a  deep  furrow  or  track  in  the  snow  which  cannot  be 
mistaken  for  that  of  any  other  animal.  They  are  generally 
discovered,  however,  by  the  devastation  they  commit  on 
the  trees,  which,  if  done  in  the  winter,  is  a  sure  sign  that 
the  animal  is  near.  They  will,  in  most  cases,  be  found  on 
the  branches,  and  when  approached,  utter  a  weak  cry  like 

•  Richardson,  Faun.  am.  bor. 


AND   AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


that  of  a  child.  Dr.  Best,  of  Lexington,  Ky.,  in  a  letter  to 
Dr.  Godman,  says,  that  in  the  State  of  Ohio  they  "take  up 
their  residence  in  hollow  trees,  whence  it  appeared  to  me, 
in  several  instances,  from  their  tracks  in  the  snow,  they 
only  travel  to  the  nearest  ash  tree,  whose  branches  serve 
them  for  food.  In  every  instance  which  came  under  my 
observation,  there  was  no  single  track,  but  a  plain  beaten 
path,  from  the  tree  in  which  they  lodged,  to  the  ash,  from 
which  they  obtained  their  food.  I  cut  down  two  trees  for 
Porcupine,  and  found  but  one  in  each;  one  of  the  trees  also 
contained  four  raccoons,  but  in  a  separate  hollow,  the)"^  occu- 
pied the  trunk,  the  Porcupine  the  limbs." 

They  are  readily  killed  by  striking  them  on  the  nose, 
and  their  flesh  is  much  esteemed  by  the  natives,  though  it 
soon  disgusts  whites;  its  taste  is  said  to  resemble  flabby 
pork.  The  bones  are  often  tinged  of  a  greenish  yellow 
colour;  this  arises  in  all  probability  from  some  of  the  vege- 
table substances  on  which  it  feeds.  Like  all  animals  of 
similar  habits,  the  Porcupine  is  much  infested  with  intesti- 
nal worms. 

They  pair  about  the  latter  end  of  September,  and  the 
female  brings  forth  two  young  in  April  and  May. 


THE  COUGAR. 


There  is  an  extensive  Swamp  in  the  section  of  the  State 
of  Mississippi  which  lies  partly  in  the  Choctaw  territory. 
It  commences  at  the  borders  of  the  Mississippi,  at  no  great 
distance  from  a  Chicasaw  village,  situated  near  the  mouth 
of  a  creek  known  by  the  name  of  Vanconnah,  and  partly 
inundated  by  the  swellings  of  several  large  bayous,  the  prin- 
cipal of  which,  crossing  the  swamp  in  its  whole  extent,  dis- 
charges its  waters  not  far  from  the  mouth  of  the  Yazoo 
River.  This  famous  bayou  is  called  False  River.  The 
swamp  of  which  I  am  speaking  follows  the  windings  of  the 
Yazoo,  until  the  latter  branches  off  to  the  north-east,  and  at 
this  point  forms  the  stream  named  Cold  Water  River,  below 
which  the  Yazoo  receives  the  draining  of  another  bayou 
inclining  towards  the  north-west,  and  intersecting  that 
known  by  the  name  of  False  River,  at  a  short  distance  from 
the  place  where  the  latter  receives  the  waters  of  the  Missis- 
sippi. This  tedious  account  of  the  situation  of  the  swamp, 
is  given  with  the  view  of  pointing  it  out  to  all  students  of 
nature  who  may  chance  to  go  that  way,  and  whom  I  would 
earnestly  urge  to  visit  its  interior,  as  it  abounds  in  rare  and 
interesting  productions:  birds,  quadrupeds,  and  reptiles,  as 
well  as  molluscous  animals,  many  of  which,  I  am  persuaded, 
have  never  been  described. 

In  the  course  of  one  of  my  rambles,  I  chanced  to  meet 


with  a  squatter's  cabin  on  the  banks  of  the  Cold  Water 
River.  In  the  owner  of  this  hut,  like  most  of  those  adven- 
turous settlers  in  the  uncultivated  tracts  of  our  frontier  dis- 
tricts, I  found  a  person  well  versed  in  the  chase,  and 
acquainted  with  the  habits  of  some  of  the  larger  species  of 
quadrupeds  and  birds.  As  he  who  is  desirous  of  instruction 
ought  not  to  disdain  listening  to  any  one  who  has  know- 
ledge to  communicate,  however  humble  may  be  his  lot,  or 
however  limited  his  talents,  I  entered  the  squatter's  cabin, 
and  immediately  opened  a  conversation  with  him  respecting 
the  situation  of  the  swamp,  and  its  natural  productions.  He 
told  me  he  thought  it  the  very  place  I  ought  to  visit,  spoke 
of  the  game  which  it  contained,  and  pointed  to  some  bear 
and  deer  skins,  adding  that  the  individuals  to  which  they 
had  belonged  formed  but  a  small  portion  of  the  number  of 
those  animals  which  he  had  shot  within  it.  My  heart 
swelled  with  delight,  and  on  asking  if  he  would  accompany 
me  through  the  great  morass,  and  allow  me  to  become  an 
inmate  of  his  humble  but  hospitable  mansion,  I  was  gratified 
to  find  that  he  cordially  assented  to  all  my  proposals.  So  I 
immediately  unstrapped  my  drawing  materials,  laid  up  my 
gun,  and  sat  down  to  partake  of  the  homely  but  wholesome 
fare  intended  for  the  supper  of  the  squatter,  his  wife,  and 
his  two  sons. 

The  quietness  of  the  evening  seemed  in  perfect  accord- 
ance with  the  gentle  demeanour  of  the  familj'.  The  wife 
and  children,  I  more  than  once  thought,  seemed  to  look 
upon  me  as  a  strange  sort  of  person,  going  about,  as  I  told 
them  I  was,  in  search  of  birds  and  plants;  and  were  I  here 
to  relate  the  many  questions  which  they  put  to  me  in  return 
for  those  which  I  addressed  to  them,  the  catalogue  would 
occupy  several  pages.  The  husband,  a  native  of  Connecti- 
cut, had  heard  of  the  existence  of  such  men  as  myself,  both 
in  our  own  country  and  abroad,  and  seemed  greatly  pleased 
1o  have  me  under  his  roof.  Supper  over,  I  asked  my  kind 
host  what  had  induced  him  to  remove  to  this  wild  and  soli- 
tary spot.  "The  people  are  growing  too  numerous  now  to 
thrive  in  New  England,"  was  his  answer.  I  thought  of 
the  state  of  some  parts  of  Europe,  and  calculating  the  dense- 
ness  of  their  population  compared  with  that  of  New  Eng- 
land, exclaimed  to  myself,  "How  much  more  difficult  must 
it  be  for  men  to  thrive  in  those  populous  countries!"  The 
conversation  then  changed,  and  the  squatter,  his  sons  and 
myself,  spoke  of  hunting  and  fishing,  until  at  length  tired, 
we  laid  ourselves  down  on  pallets  of  bear  skins,  and  reposed 
in  peace  on  the  floor  of  the  only  apartment  of  which  the  hut 
consisted. 

Day  dawned,  and  the  squatter's  call  to  his  hogs,  which, 
being  almost  in  a  wild  state,  were  sutTered  to  seek  the 
greater  portion  of  their  food  in  the  woods,  awakened  me. 
Being  ready  dressed,  I  was  not  long  in  joining  him.     The 


244 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


hogs  and  their  young  came  grunting  at  the  well  known  call 
of  their  owner,  who  threw  them  a  few  ears  of  corn,  and 
counted  them,  but  told  me  that  for  some  weeks  their  num- 
ber had  been  greatly  diminished  by  the  ravages  committed 
upon  them  by  a  large  Panther,  by  which  name  the  Cougar 
is  designated  in  America,  and  that  the  ravenous  animal  did 
not  content  himself  with  the  flesh  of  his  pigs,  but  now  and 
then  carried  off  one  of  his  calves,  notwithstanding  the  many 
attempts  he  had  made  to  shoot  it.  The  Vainter,  as  he 
sometimes  called  it,  had  on  several  occasions  robbed  him  of 
a  dead  deer;  and  to  these  exploits  the  squatter  added  several 
remarkable  feats  of  audacity  which  it  had  performed,  to  give 
me  an  idea  of  the  formidable  character  of  the  beast.  De- 
lighted by  his  description,  I  offered  to  assist  him  in  destroy- 
ing the  enemy,  at  which  he  was  highly  pleased,  but  assured 
me  that  unless  some  of  his  neighbours  should  join  us  with 
their  dogs  and  his  own,  the  attempt  would  prove  fruitless. 
Soon  after,  mounting  a  horse,  he  went  off  to  his  neighbours, 
several  of  whom  lived  at  a  distance  of  some  miles,  and  ap- 
pointed a  day  of  meeting. 

The  hunters,  accordingly,  made  their  appearance,  one 
fine  morning,  at  the  door  of  the  cabin,  just  as  the  sun  was 
emerging  from  beneath  the  horizon.  They  were  five  in 
number,  and  fully  equipped  for  the  chase,  being  mounted 
on  horses,  which  in  some  parts  of  Europe  might  appear 
sorry  nags,  but  which  in  strength,  speed  and  bottom,  are 
better  fitted  for  pursuing  a  cougar  or  a  bear  through  woods 
and  morasses  than  any  in  that  country.  A  pack  of  large 
ugly  curs  were  already  engaged  in  making  acquaintance 
with  those  of  the  squatter.  He  and  myself  mounted  his 
two  best  horses,  whilst  his  sons  were  bestriding  others  of 
inferior  quality. 

Few  words  were  uttered  by  the  party  until  we  had  reach- 
ed the  edge  of  the  Swamp,  where  it  was  agreed  that  all 
should  disperse  and  seek  for  the  fresh  track  of  the  Painter, 
it  being  previously  settled  tliat  the  discoverer  should  blow 
his  horn,  and  remain  on  the  spot  until  the  rest  should  join 
him.  In  less  than  an  hour,  the  sound  of  the  horn  was 
clearly  heard,  and,  sticking  close  to  the  squatter,  off  we 
went  through  the  thick  woods,  guided  only  by  the  now  and 
then  repeated  call  of  the  distant  huntsman.  We  soon  reached 
the  spot,  and  in  a  short  time  the  rest  of  the  party  came  up. 
The  best  dog  was  sent  forward  to  track  the  Cougar,  and  in 
a  few  moments  the  whole  pack  were  observed  diligently 
trailing,  and  bearing  in  their  course  for  the  interior  of  the 
Swamp.  The  rifles  were  immediately  put  in  trim,  and  the 
party  followed  the  dogs,  at  separate  distances,  but  in  sight 
of  each  other,  determined  to  shoot  at  no  other  game  than 
the  Panther. 

The  dogs  soon  began  to  mouth,  and  suddenly  quickened 
their  pace.     My  companion  concluded  that  the  beast  was  on 


the  ground,  and  putting  our  horses  to  a  gentle  gallop,  we 
followed  the  curs,  guided  by  their  voices.  The  noise  of 
the  dogs  increased,  when  all  of  a  sudden  their  mode  of  bark- 
ing became  altered,  and  the  squatter,  urging  me  to  push  on, 
told  me  that  the  beast  was  treed,  by  which  he  meant  that  it 
had  got  upon  some  low  branch  of  a  tree  to  rest  for  a  few 
moments,  and  that  should  we  not  succeed  in  shooting  him 
when  thus  situated,  we  might  expect  a  long  chase  of  it.  As 
we  approached  the  spot,  we  all  by  degrees  united  into  a 
body,  but  on  seeing  the  dogs  at  the  foot  of  a  large  tree,  se- 
parated again  and  galloped  ofl"  to  surround  it. 

Each  hunter  now  moved  with  caution,  holding  his  gun 
ready,  and  allowing  the  bridle  to  dangle  on  the  neck  of  his 
horse,  as  it  advanced  slowly  towards  the  dogs.  A  shot 
from  one  of  the  party  was  heard,  on  which  the  Cougar  was 
seen  to  leap  to  tlie  ground,  and  bound  off  with  such  velocity 
as  to  show  that  he  was  very  unwilling  to  stand  our  fire 
longer.  The  dogs  set  off  in  pursuit  with  great  eagerness 
and  a  deafening  crj^  The  hunter  who  had  fired  came  up 
and  said  that  his  ball  had  hit  the  monster,  and  had  probably 
broken  one  of  his  fore-legs  near  the  shoulder,  the  only  place 
at  which  he  could  aim.  A  slight  trail  of  blood  was  disco- 
vered on  the  ground,  but  the  curs  proceeded  at  such  a  rate 
that  we  merely  noticed  this,  and  put  spurs  to  our  horses, 
which  galloped  on  towards  the  centre  of  the  swamp.  One 
bayou  was  crossed,  then  another  still  largerand  moremuddyj 
but  the  dogs  were  brushing  forward,  and  as  the  horses  began 
to  pant  at  a  furious  rate,  we  judged  it  expedient  to  leave 
them  and  advance  on  foot.  These  determined  hunters  knew 
that  the  Cougar  being  wounded,  would  shortly  ascend 
another  tree,  where  in  all  probability  he  would  remain  for 
a  considerable  time,  and  that  it  would  be  easy  to  follow  the 
track  of  the  dogs.  We  dismounted,  took  off  the  saddles 
and  bridles,  set  the  bells  attached  to  the  horses'  necks  at 
liberty  to  jingle,  hoppled  the  animals,  and  left  them  to  shift 
for  themselves. 

Now,  reader,  follow  the  group  marching  through  the 
swamp,  crossing  muddy  pools,  and  making  the  best  of  their 
way  over  fallen  trees  and  amongst  the  tangled  rushes  that 
now  and  then  covered  acres  of  ground.  If  you  are  a  hunter 
yourself,  all  tjiis  will  appear  nothing  to  you;  but  if  crowded 
assemblies  of  "beauty  and  fashion,"  or  the  quiet  enjoyment 
of  your  "pleasure-grounds,"  alone  delight  you,  I  must  mend 
my  pen  before  I  attempt  to  give  you  an  idea  of  the  pleasure 
felt  on  such  an  expedition. 

After  marching  for  a  couple  of  hours,  we  again  heard  the 
dogs.  Each  of  us  pressed  forward,  elated  at  the  thought  of 
terminating  the  career  of  the  Cougar.  Some  of  the  dogs 
were  heard  whining,  although  the  greater  number  barked 
vehementlj^  We  felt  assured  that  the  Cougar  was  treed, 
and  that  he  would  rest  for  some  time  to  recover  from  his 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


fatigue.  As  we  came  up  to  the  dogs,  we  discovered  the 
ferocious  animal  lying  across  a  large  branch,  close  to  the 
trunk  of  a  cotton-wood  tree.  His  broad  breast  lay  towards 
us;  his  eyes  were  at  one  time  bent  on  us  and  again  on  the 
dogs  beneath  and  around  him;  one  of  his  fore  legs  hung 
loosely  by  his  side,  and  he  lay  crouched,  with  his  ears  low- 
ered close  to  his  head,  as  if  he  thought  he  might  remain  un- 
discovered. Three  balls  were  fired  at  him,  at  a  given 
signal,  on  which  he  sprang  a  few  feet  from  the  branch,  and 
tumbled  headlong  to  the  ground.  Attacked  on  all  sides  by 
the  enraged  curs,  the  infuriated  Cougar  fought  with  despe- 
rate valour;  but  the  squatter  advancing  in  front  of  the  part)', 
and  almost  in  the  midst  of  the  dogs,  shot  him  immediately 
behind  and  beneath  the  left  shoulder.  The  Cougar  writhed 
for  a  moment  in  agony,  and  in  another  lay  dead. 

The  sun  was  now  sinking  in  the  west.  Two  of  the  hun- 
ters separated  from  the  rest,  to  procure  venison,  whilst  the 
squatter's  sons  were  ordered  to  make  the  best  of  their  way 
home,  to  be  ready  to  feed  the  hogs  in  the  morning.  The 
rest  of  the  party  agreed  to  camp  on  the  spot.  The  Cougar 
was  despoiled  of  its  skin,  and  its  carcass  left  to  the  hungry 
dogs.  Whilst  engaged  in  preparing  our  camp,  we  heard 
the  report  of  a  gun,  and  soon  after  one  of  our  hunters  re- 
turned with  a  small  deer.  A  fire  was  lighted,  and  each 
hunter  displayed  his  pone  of  bread,  along  with  a  flask  of 
whiskey.  The  deer  was  skinned  in  a  trice,  and  slices  placed 
on  sticks  before  the  iire.  These  materials  aflbrded  us  an 
excellent  meal,  and  as  the  night  grew  darker,  stories  and 
songs  went  round,  until  my  companions,  fatigued,  laid  them- 
selves down,  close  under  the  smoke  of  the  fire,  and  soon 
fell  asleep. 

I  walked  for  some  minutes  round  the  camp,  to  contem- 
plate the  beauties  of  that  nature,  from  which  I  have  certainly 
derived  my  greatest  pleasures.  I  thought  of  the  occurrences 
of  the  day,  and  glancing  my  eye  around,  remarked  the  sin- 
gular effects  produced  by  the  phosphorescent  qualities  of 
the  large  decayed  trunks  which  lay  in  all  directions  around 
me.  How  easy,  I  thought,  would  it  be  for  the  confused 
and  agitated  mind  of  a  person  bewildered  in  a  swamp  like 
this,  to  imagine  in  each  of  these  luminous  masses  some 
wondrous  and  fearful  being,  the  very  sight  of  which  might 
make  the  hair  stand  erect  on  his  head.  The  thought  of 
being  myself  placed  in  such  a  predicament  burst  over  my 
mind,  and  I  hastened  to  join  my  companions,  beside  whom 
I  laid  me  down  and  slept,  assured  that  no  enemy  could  ap- 
proach us  without  first  rousing  the  dogs,  which  were  growl- 
ing in  fierce  dispute  over  the  remains  of  the  Cougar. 

At  daybreak  we  left  our  camp,  the  squatter  bearing  on 

his  shoulder  the  skin  of  the  late  destroyer  of  his  stock,  and 

retraced  our  steps  until  we  found  our  horses,  which  had  not 

strayed  far  from  the  place  where  vve  had  left  them.     These 

3Q 


we  soon  saddled,  and  jogging  along,  in  a  direct  course, 
guided  by  the  sun,  congratulating  each  other  on  the  destruc- 
tion of  so  formidable  a  neighbour  as  the  panther  had  been, 
we  soon  arrived  at  mj-  host's  cabin.  The  five  neighbours 
partook  of  such  refreshment  as  the  house  could  aflbrd,  and 
dispersing,  returned  to  their  homes,  leaving  me  to  follow 
my  favourite  pursuits. — Audubon's  ,/lmerican  Ornitho- 
logical Biography. 


THE   ELEPHANT. 


The  human  race  excepted,  the  Elephant  is  the  most 
respectable  of  animals.  In  size  he  surpasses  all  other  ter- 
restrial creatures,  and  in  understanding  he  is  inferior  only 
to  man.  Of  all  the  brute  creation,  the  Elephant,  the  dog, 
the  ape,  and  the  beaver,  are  most  admirable  for  their  saga- 
city; but  the  genius  of  the  dog  is  only  borrowed,  being 
instructed  by  man  in  almost  every  thing  he  knows;  the 
monkey  has  only  the  appearance  of  wisdom,  and  the  beaver 
is  only  sensible  %vith  regard  to  himself,  and  those  of  his 
species.  The  Elephant  is  superior  to  them  all  three;  he 
unites  all  their  most  eminent  qualities.  The  hand  is  the 
principal  organ  of  the  monkey's  dexterity;  the  Elephant 
with  his  trunk,  which  serves  him  instead  of  arms  and  hands, 
with  which  he  can  lift  up,  and  seize  the  smallest,  as  well  as 
the  largest  objects,  carry  them  to  his  mouth,  place  them  on 
his  back,  hold  them,  or  throw  them  afar  off,  has  the  same 
dexterity  as  the  monkey,  and  at  the  same  time  the  tractable- 
ness  of  the  dog;  he  is  like  him  susceptible  of  gratitude, 
capable  of  a  strong  attachment;  he  uses  himself  to  man  with- 
out reluctance,  and  submits  to  him,  not  so  much  by  force, 
as  by  good  treatment;  he  serves  him  with  zeal,  intelligence, 
and  fidelity;  in  fine,  the  Elephant,  like  the  beaver,  loves 
the  society  of  his  equals,  and  makes  them  understand  him. 
They  are  often  seen  to  assemble  together,  disperse,  act  in 
concert,  and  if  they  do  not  erect  buildings,  and  do  not  work 
in  common,  it  is  perhaps,  for  want  of  room  only,  and  tran- 
quillity; for  men  have  very  anciently  multiplied  in  all  the 
regions  inhabited  by  the  Elephant;  he  consequently  lives  in 
fear  and  anxiety,  and  is  no  where  a  peaceful  possessor  of  a 
space  large  and  secure  enough  to  establish  his  habitation  on 
a  settled  spot.  Every  being  in  nature  has  his  real  price, 
and  relative  value;  to  judge  of  both  in  the  Elephant,  we 
must  allow  him  at  least  the  judgment  of  the  beaver,  the 
dexterity  of  the  monkey,  the  sentiment  of  the  dog,  and 
to  add  to  these  qualifications,  the  peculiar  advantages  of 
strength,  size,  and  longevity.  We  must  not  forget  his 
arms,  or  his  defence,  with  which  he  can  pierce  through, 


246 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


and  conquer  the  lion.  We  must  observe,  that  he  shakes 
the  ground  at  every  step;  that  with  his  trunk  he  roots  up 
trees;  that  with  the  strength  of  his  body  he  makes  a  breach 
in  a  wall;  that,  being  terrible  by  his  force,  he  is  invincible 
by  the  resistance  only  of  his  enormous  mass,  and  by  the 
thickness  of  the  leather  which  covers  it;  that  he  can  carry 
on  his  back  a  tower  armed  in  war,  with  a  number  of  men; 
that  he  alone  moves  machines,  and  carries  burthens,  which 
six  horses  cannot  move.  To  this  prodigious  strength  he 
joins  courage,  prudence,  coolness,  and  an  exact  obedience: 
he  preserves  moderation  even  in  his  most  violent  passion; 
he  is  more  constant  than  impetuous  in  love;  in  anger  he 
does  not  forget  his  friends;  he  never  attacks  any  but  those 
who  have  given  him  offence;  he  remembers  favours  as  long 
as  injuries:  having  no  taste  for  flesh,  and  feeding  chiefly 
upon  vegetables,  he  is  not  naturally  an  enemy  to  other  ani- 
mals; he  is  beloved  by  them  all,  since  all  of  th.cm  respect 
him,  and  have  no  cause  to  fear  him.  For  these  reasons, 
men  have  had  at  all  times  a  veneration  for  this  great,  this 
first  of  animals.  The  ancients  considered  the  Elephant  as 
a  prodigy,  a  miracle  of  nature;  they  have  much  exaggerated 
his  natural  faculties;  they  attribute  to  him,  without  hesita- 
tion, not  only  intellectual  qualities,  but  moral  virtues. 

In  a  wild  state,  the  Elephant  is  neither  bloody  nor  fero- 
cious; his  manners  are  social;  he  seldom  wanders  alone;  he 
commonly  walks  in  company,  the  oldest  leads  the  herd,  the 
next  in  age  drives  them,  and  forms  the  rear;  the  young  and 
the  weak  are  in  the  middle.  The  females  carry  th^ir 
young,  and  hold  them  close  with  their  trunks.  They  only 
observe  this  order,  however,  in  perilous  marches,  when  they 
go  to  feed  on  cultivated  lands;  they  walk  or  travel  with  less 
precaution  in  forests  and  solitary  places,  but  still  keeping  at 
such  a  moderate  distance  from  each  other,  as  to  be  able  to 
give  mutual  assistance,  and  seasonable  warnings  of  danger. 
Some,  however,  straggle,  and  remain  behind  the  others; 
none  but  these  are  attacked  by  hunters,  for  a  small  army 
would  be  requisite  to  assail  the  whole  herd,  and  they  could 
not  conquer  without  a  great  loss  of  men;  it  is  even  danger- 
ous to  do  them  the  least  injury,  they  go  straight  to  the 
ofiender,  and,  notwithstanding  the  weight  of  their  body, 
they  walk  so  fast  that  they  easily  overtake  the  lightest  man 
in  running;  they  pierce  him  through  with  their  tusks,  or 
seize  him  with  their  trunks,  throw  them  against  a  stone, 
and  tread  him  under  their  feet;  but  it  is  only  when  they 
have  been  provoked,  that  they  become  so  furious  and  so 
implacable.  It  is  said,  that  when  they  have  been  once  at- 
tacked by  men,  or  have  fallen  into  a  snare,  they  never  for- 
get it,  and  seek  for  revenge  on  all  occasions.  As  they  have 
an  exquisite  sense  of  smelling,  perhaps  more  perfect  than 
any  other  animal,  owing  to  the  large  extent  of  their  nose, 
they  smell  a  man  at  a  great  distance,  and  could  easily  follow 


him  by  the  track.  These  animals  are  fond  of  the  banks  of 
rivers,  deep  valleys,  shady  places,  and  marshy  grounds; 
they  cannot  subsist  a  long  while  without  water,  and  they 
make  it  thick  and  muddy  before  they  drink;  they  often  fill 
their  trunks  with  it,  either  to  convey  it  to  their  mouth,  or 
only  to  cool  their  nose,  and  to  amuse  themselves  in  sprink- 
ling it  around  them;  they  cannot  support  cold,  and  sufier 
equallj'  from  excessive  heat,  for,  to  avoid  the  burning  rays 
of  the  sun,  they  penetrate  into  the  thickest  forests;  they  also 
bathe  often  in  the  water;  the  enormous  size  of  their  body  is 
rather  an  advantage  to  them  in  swimming,  and  they  do  not 
swim  so  deep  in  the  water  as  other  animals;  besides,  the 
length  of  their  trunk,  which  they  erect,  and  through  which 
they  breathe,  takes  from  them  all  fear  of  being  drowned. 

Their  common  food  is  roots,  herbs,  leaves,  and  young 
branches;  they  also  eat  fruit  and  corn,  but  the}'  have  a  dis- 
like to  flesh  and  fish.  When  one  of  them  finds  abundant 
pasture,  he  calls  the  others,  and  invites  them  to  come  and 
feed  with  him.  As  they  want  a  great  quantity  of  fodder, 
they  often  change  their  place,  and  when  the}'  find  cultivated 
lands,  they  make  a  prodigious  waste;  their  bodies  being  of 
an  enormous  weight,  they  destroy  ten  times  more  with 
their  feet,  than  they  consume  for  their  food,  which  may  be 
reckoned  at  the  rate  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  of  grass 
daily.  As  they  never  feed  but  in  great  numbers,  they 
waste  a  large  territory  in  about  an  hour's  time;  for  this  rea- 
son, the  Indians  and  the  Negroes  take  great  pains  to  prevent 
their  visits,  and  to  drive  them  away,  by  making  a  great 
noise,  and  great  fires;  notwithstanding  these  precautions, 
however,  the  Elephants  often  take  possession  of  them,  drive 
away  the  cattle  and  men,  and  sometimes  pull  down  their 
cottages.  It  is  difiicult  to  frighten  them,  as  they  are  little 
susceptible  of  fear;  nothing  can  stop  them  but  fire-works, 
and  crackers  thrown  amongst  them,  the  sadden  effect  of 
which,  often  repeated,  forces  them  sometimes  to  turn  back. 
It  is  very  difficult  to  part  them,  for  they  commonly  attack 
their  enemies  all  together,  proceed  unconcerned,  or  turn 
back. 

The  female  Elephant  goes  two  years  with  young;  when 
she  is  in  that  condition  the  male  never  conjoins  with  her. 
They  only  bring  forth  a  young  one,  which  has  teeth  as  soon 
as  brought  forth;  he  is  then  larger  than  a  boar;  yet  his  tusks 
are  not  visible,  they  appear  soon  after,  and  at  six  months  old 
are  some  inches  in  length;  at  that  age,  the  Elephant  is  larger 
than  an  ox,  and  the  tusks  continue  to  increase  till  he  is  ad- 
vanced in  3'ears. 

It  is  very  easy  to  tame  the  Elephant.  As  he  is  the 
strongest  and  most  rational  of  animals,  he  is  more  serviceable 
than  any  of  them;  but  he  was  formerly  supposed  to  feel  his 
servile  condition,  and  never  to  couple  in  a  domestic  state. 
This,  however,  has  been  found  to  be  an  erroneous  opinion. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


247 


There  is,  therefore,  no  domestic  Elephant  but  has  been 
wild  before;  and  the  manner  of  taking,  taming,  and  bring- 
ing them  into  submission,  deserves  particular  attention.  In 
the  middle  of  forests,  and  in  the  vicinity  of  the  places  which 
they  frequent,  a  large  space  is  chosen,  and  encircled  with 
palisadoes;  the  strongest  trees  of  the  forest  serve  instead  of 
stakes,  to  which  cross  pieces  of  timber  are  fastened,  which 
support  the  other  stakes;  a  man  may  easily  pass  through  this 
palisado;  there  is  another  great  opening,  through  which  the 
Elephant  may  go  in,  with  a  trap  hanging  over  it,  or  a  gate 
which  is  shut  behind  him :  to  bring  him  to  that  enclosure, 
he  must  be  enticed  by  a  tame  female,  ready  to  take  the 
male;  and  when  her  leader  thinks  she  is  near  enough  to  be 
heard,  he  obliges  her  to  indicate  by  her  cries  the  condition 
she  is  in;  the  wild  male  answers  immediately,  and  begins 
his  march  to  join  her,  she  repeats  her  call  now  and  then, 
and  arrives  first  to  the  first  enclosure,  where  the  male,  fol- 
lowing her  track,  enters  through  the  same  gate.  As  soon 
as  he  perceives  himelf  shut  up,  his  ardour  vanishes,  and 
when  he  discovers  the  hunters,  he  becomes  furious;  they 
throw  at  him  ropes  with  a  running  knot  to  stop  him;  they 
fetter  his  legs  and  his  trunk,  they  bring  two  or  three  tame 
Elephants,  led  by  dexterous  men,  and  try  to  tie  them  with 
the  wild  Elephant,  and  at  last,  by  dint  of  dexterity,  strength, 
terror,  and  caresses,  they  succeed  in  taming  him  in  a  few 
days. 

The  Elephant,  once  tamed,  becomes  the  most  tractable 
and  the  most  submissive  of  all  animals;  he  conceives  an 
affection  for  his  leader,  he  caresses  him,  and  seems  to  guess 
whatever  can  please  him:  in  a  little  time  he  understands  the 
signs,  and  even  the  expression  of  sounds;  he  distinguishes 
the  tone  of  command,  that  of  anger  or  good  nature,  and  acts 
accordingly:  he  never  mistakes  the  words  of  his  master;  he 
receives  his  orders  with  attention,  executes  them  with  pru- 
dence and  eagerness,  without  precipitation;  for  his  motions 
are  always  measured,  and  his  character  seems  to  participate 
of  the  gravity  of  his  body;  he  is  easily  taught  to  bend  the 
knee  to  assist  those  who  will  ride  on  his  back;  he  caresses 
his  friends  with  his  trunk,  and  salutes  with  it  the  persons 
he  is  directed  to  take  notice  of:  he  makes  use  of  it  to  lift 
burdens,  and  helps  to  load  himself;  he  has  no  aversion  to 
being  clothed,  and  seems  to  delight  in  a  golden  harness  or 
magnificent  trappings;  he  is  easily  put  to  the  traces  of  carts, 
and  draws  ships  upon  occasion:  he  draws  evenly,  without 
stopping,  or  any  marks  of  dislike,  provided  he  is  not  insult- 
ed by  unseasonable  correction,  and  provided  his  driver 
seems  to  be  thankful  for  the  spontaneous  exertion  of  his 
strength.  His  leader  is  mounted  on  his  neck,  and  makes 
use  of  an  iron  rod  crooked  at  the  end,  with  which  he  strikes 
him  gently  on  the  head  to  make  him  turn  or  increase  his 


pace;  but  often  a  word  is  sufficient,  especially  if  he  has  had 
time  to  make  himself  well  acquainted  with  his  leader,  and 
has  a  confidence  in  him ;  his  attachment  is  sometimes  so 
strong  and  so  lasting,  and  his  affection  so  great,  that  com- 
monly he  refuses  to  serve  under  any  other  person,  and  he  is 
known  to  have  died  of  grief  for  having  in  anger  killed  his 
governor. 

The  species  of  the  Elephant  is  numerous,  though  they 
bring  forth  but  one  young  once  in  two  or  three  years;  the 
shorter  the  life  of  animals  is,  the  more  they  multiply:  in 
the  Elephant,  the  length  of  his  life  compensates  the  small 
number;  and  if  it  is  true,  as  has  been  affirmed,  that  he  lives 
two  hundred  years,  and  that  he  begets  when  he  is  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty  years  old,  each  couple  brings  forth  forty 
young  in  that  space  of  time:  besides,  having  nothing  to  fear 
from  other  animals,  and  little  even  from  men,  who  take 
them  with  great  difficulty,  the  species  has  not  decreased, 
and  is  generally  dispersed  in  all  the  southern  parts  of  Africa 
and  Asia. 

Frcm  time  immemorial  the  Indians  made  use  of  Ele- 
phants in  war.  Amongst  those  nations  unacquainted  with 
the  European  military  discipline,  they  were  the  best  troops 
of  their  armies;  and  as  longas  battles  were  decided  by  mere 
weapons,  they  commonly  vanquished  :  yet  we  see  in  his- 
tory, that  the  Greeks  and  Romans  used  themselves  soon  to 
those  monsters  of  war;  they  opened  their  ranks  to  let  them 
go  through;  they  did  not  attempt  to  wound  them,  but  threw 
all  their  darts  against  their  leaders,  who  were  forced  to  sur- 
render, and  to  calm  the  Elephants  when  separated  from 
their  troops ;  and  now  that  fire  is  become  the  element  of 
war,  and  the  principal  instrument  of  death,  the  Elephants, 
who  are  afraid  of  the  noise  and  the  fire  of  the  artillery, 
would  be  rather  an  incumbrance  in  battle,  and  more  danger- 
ous than  useful. 

In  those  regions,  however,  where  our  cannons  and  mur- 
dering arts  are  yet  scarcely  known,  they  fight  still  with 
Elephants.  At  Cochin,  and  in  the  other  parts  of  Malabar, 
they  do  not  make  use  of  horses,  and  all  those  who  do  not 
fight  on  foot  are  mounted  upon  Elephants.  In  Tonquin, 
Siam,  and  Pegu,  the  king,  and  all  the  grandees,  never  ride 
but  upon  Elephants:  on  festival  days  they  are  preceded  and 
followed  by  a  great  number  of  these  animals  richly  capari- 
soned, and  covered  with  the  richest  stuffs.  On  comparing 
the  relations  of  travellers  and  historians,  it  appears  that  the 
Elephants  are  more  numerous  in  Africa  than  in  Asia;  they 
are  there  also  less  mistrustful,  not  so  wild,  and,  as  if  they 
knew  the  unskilfulness  and  the  little  power  of  the  men  with 
whom  they  have  to  deal  in  this  part  of  the  world,  come 
every  day  without  fear  to  their  habitations. 

Buffoii's  Natural  History. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


THE  MULE. 

The  longevity  of  the  Mule  has  become  so  proverbial, 
that  a  purchaser  seldom  inquires  his  age.  Pliny  gives  an 
account  of  one,  taken  from  Grecian  history,  that  was  eighty 
years  old;  and  though  past  labour,  followed  others  that  were 
carrying  materials  to  build  the  temple  of  Minerva  at  Athens, 
and  seemed  to  wish  to  assist  them ;  which  so  pleased  the 
people,  that  they  ordered  he  should  have  free  egress  to  the 
grain  market.  Dr.  Rees  mentions  two  that  were  seventy 
years  old  in  England.  I  saw,  myself,  in  the  West  Indies, 
a  mule  perform  his  task  in  a  cane  mill,  that  his  owner  as- 
sured nae  was  forty  years  old.  I  now  own  a  mare  mule 
twenty-five  years  old,  that  I  have  had  in  constant  work 
twenty-one  years,  and  can  discover  no  diminution  in  her 
powers;  she  has  within  a  year  past  often  taken  upwards  of 
a  ton  weight  in  a  wagon  to  Boston,  a  distance  of  more  than 
five  miles.  A  gentleman  in  my  neighborhood  has  owned  a 
very  large  mule  about  fourteen  3-ears,  that  cannot  be  less 
than  twenty-eight  years  old.  He  informed  me  a  few  days 
since,  that  he  could  not  perceive  the  least  failure  in  him, 
and  would  not  exchange  him  for  any  farm  horse  in  the 
county.  And  I  am  just  informed,  from  a  source  entitled  to 
perfect  confidence,  that  a  highly  respectable  gentleman  and 
eminent  agriculturalist,  near  Centreville,  on  the  Eastern 
Shore  of  JNIaryland,  owns  a  mule,  that  is  thirty-five  years 
old,  as  capable  of  labour  as  at  any  former  period. 

The  great  Roman  naturalist,  in  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
passages  of  his  elaborate  history  of  nature,  observes  that 
"the  earth  is  constantly  teased  more  to  furnish  the  luxuries 
of  man  than  his  necessities."*  We  can  have  no  doubt  but 
that  the  remark  applied  with  great  justice  to  the  habits  of 
the  Romans  in  the  time  of  Plinj-;  and  I  am  much  mistaken 
if  ample  proofs  cannot  be  adduced,  that  it  will  lose  none  of 
its  force  or  truth,  at  this  present  period,  in  all  northern  cli- 
mates, or  any  section  of  the  United  States  where  the  horse 
is  employed  for  agriculture  as  well  as  for  pleasure.  Far  be 
it  from  me,  however,  to  disparage  this  noble  animal;  on  the 
contrary  I  feel  a  strong  attachment  for  him;  and  at  the  same 
time  a  full  conviction,  that  the  substitution  of  the  mule,  for 


*  It  is  the  earth  that,  like  a  kind  mother  receives  us  at  our  birtli,  and  sus- 
tains us  when  born.  It  is  this  alone,  of  all  the  elements  around  us,  that  is 
never  found  an  enemy  to  man.  The  body  of  waters  deluge  him  with  rains, 
oppress  him  with  hail,  and  drown  him  with  inundations :  the  air  rushes  on 
in  storms,  prepares  the  tempest,  or  lights  up  the  volcano;  but  the  earth,  gen- 
tle and  indulgent,  ever  subservient  to  the  wants  of  man,  spreads  his  walks 
with  flowers,  and  his  table  with  plenty;  returns  with  interest  every  good 
committed  to  her  care,  and  though  she  produces  the  poison,  she  still  supplies 
the  antidote,  though  constantly  teased  more  to  furnish  the  luxuries  of  man, 
than  his  necessities,  yet  even  to  tile  last,  she  continues  her  kind  indulgence, 
and  when  life  is  over,  she  piously  hides  his  remains  in  her  bosom. 

Pliny's  Natural  History,  Book  II.  Chap.  63. 


the  purposes  before  stated,  as  extensively  as  may  be  consis- 
tent with  the  requisite  production  of  each  species,  will  have 
the  effect  of  restoring  the  horse  to  the  station  from  which 
he  has  been  degraded,  and  place  him  as  in  former  ages,  upon 
a  more  dignified  footing,  an  object  of  acknowledged  luxury; 
and  thereby  introduce  a  more  correct  system  of  breeding 
and  management,  in  which  our  countrymen  are  so  gene- 
rally deficient,  consequently  more  perfect  animals  and  such 
an  advance  in  the  price  of  them,  that  will  afford  the  farmer 
what  he  is  now  a  stranger  to — such  remuneration  as  will 
make  his  brood  mares  a  profitable  species  of  stock.  And  it 
is  obvious  that  the  system  will  be  followed  by  an  improve- 
ment in  the  breed  of  mules,  in  the  same  ratio  as  the  misera- 
ble race  of  scrub  mares,  which  are  now  consuming  the  pro- 
fits of  agriculture,  shall  become  extinct. 

It  does  not  appear  that  the  horse  was  employed  by  the 
ancients  for  any  purpose  of  husbandry.  The  ox  and  ass 
drew  the  plough  and  the  wain,  and  performed  all  kinds  of 
drudgery  until  after  the  feudal  system  was  established  in 
Europe,  when  the  numerous  retainers  of  the  feudal  lords, 
who  held  their  lands  by  the  tenure  of  performing  knight's 
service,  found  themselves  under  the  necessity  of  making  the 
horses  they  were  obliged  to  keep,  contribute  towards  their 
support  in  the  cultivation.  From  this  time  I  believe,  we 
may  date,  and  from  this  cause  may  be  attributed,  the  intro- 
duction of  the  horse  for  the  purposes  of  agriculture.  Since 
that  period,  the  history  of  Europe  is  little  else  than  the  an- 
nals of  war  and  its  preparations;  and  no  material  for  that 
scourge,  except  the  deluded  human  victims,  seems  more 
necessary  than  the  horse — accordingly  we  find  that  through- 
out the  whole  country,  from  the  Rhine  or  the  Seine,  to 
beyond  the  Danube  and  Vistula,  which  has  been  the  princi- 
pal arena,  the  system  of  agriculture  has  embraced,  exten- 
sively, the  breeding  of  horses  of  different  grades  and  forms 
adapted  to  the  several  uses  in  war.  Indeed,  whole  pro- 
vinces were  appropriated  almost  exclusively  to  the  rearing 
those  animals  for  disposal  to  the  diflerent  combatants;  and  it 
must  be  obvious,  that  their  general  use  in  husbandry,  at  the 
same  time,  would  follow  as  a  necessary  consequence.  It 
cannot  be  expected  therefore,  but  that  the  Dutch  and  Ger- 
mans who  have  emigrated  to  our  country,  should  bring 
with  them  such  strong  predilections  for  the  horse,  which 
have  continued  with  most  of  tlieir  descendants,  especially  in 
those  sections  where  communities  of  that  respectable  and 
industrious  portion  of  our  population  have  been  located. 
In  Great  Britain,  to  the  causes  which  have  produced  the 
effects  described  on  the  continent,  may  be  added  the  insular 
position  of  the  United  Kingdoms,  vulnerable  from  number- 
less and  distant  points,  the  horse  has  been  considered,  in 
connection  with  the  unconquerable  spirit  of  the  nation,  as 
one  of  the  most  eificient  means  of  repelling  invasion:  a  cir- 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SP0RTf5. 


249 


cumstance  that  would  of  itself  be  sufficient  to  account  for  the 
overvveaning  attachment  to  this  animal.  But  identified  as 
his  services  have  been,  for  a  long  period,  with  the  conve- 
nience, sports,  and  recreations,  of  all  ranks  and  classes,  and 
the  science  of  breeding,  and  training  forming  a  characteris- 
tic feature,  it  could  not  excite  surprise,  if  the  approach  of 
that  terrible  spectre,  famine,  should  produce  little  or  no 
effect  in  the  reduction  of  the  number.  And  although  some 
of  the  most  distinguished  characters  in  the  nation,  eminent 
for  their  practical  knowledge  in  rural  economj',  have  been 
for  half  a  century  advocating  tiie  substitution  of  the  ox  for 
the  purposes  of  agriculture,  and  demonstrating  the  feasi- 
bility, economy,  and  vast  saving  of  food,  yet  it  is  said  the 
number  of  labouring  oxen  have  lately  diminished  and  horses 
increased.  Five  millions  of  the  latter  are  now  supposed  to 
subsist  in  the  United  Kingdom,  and  two-thirds  employed  in 
husbandry — consuming,  at  a  moderate  estimate,  the  product 
of  twenty  millions  of  highly  cultivated  acres!  And  what 
is  the  consequence?  consumption  follows  so  close  upon 
supply,  that  at  every  season  of  harvest,  let  the  preceding 
one  be  never  so  abundant,  fast  sailing  vessels  are  found  in 
the  various  ports,  with  their  anchors  atrip,  to  convey  intel- 
ligence of  the  result,  to  all  parts  of  the  world,  where  a  sur- 
plus of  bread  corn  is  grown — exciting  such  an  interest  in 
our  own  country,  that  the  farmer  on  the  shores  of  Erie  and 
Ontario,  and  on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio,  may  be  seen  reading 
bulletins  of  British  weather — the  rain  and  sunshine  of  every 
day  in  August  and  the  two  following  months — often  within 
thirty  days  after  the  time  of  their  publication  in  London  or 
Liverpool.  Can  it  be  supposed,  that  in  a  country  where  an 
attachment  to  the  horse  borders  so  nearly  upon  infatuation, 
that  the  question  of  the  utility  of  the  Mule  as  a  substitute, 
would  be  seriously  agitated,  or  engage  scarce  a  momentary 
investigation  ? 

In  no  country  is  the  Mule  better  adapted  to  all  the  pur- 
poses of  husbandr_v,  for  which  the  horse  is  used,  than  in 
every  section  of  our  own.  And  it  would  be  highly  desira- 
ble to  be  able  to  exhibit  a  calculation  of  the  actual  saving, 
in  dollars  and  cents,  by  his  employment — but  unfortunately 
no  correct  data  can  be  had.  And  as  I  consider  such  calcu- 
lations, unless  founded  upon  experimental  facts,  and  those 
multiplied,  to  be  as  "tinkling  cymbals,"  I  shall  merely  sub- 
mit a  desultory  comparison  between  the  Mule  and  the  Horse, 
derived  from  such  facts  as  my  own  experience,  and  in- 
formation from  authentic  sources,  will  justify  the  assump- 
tion of. 

From  what  has  been  stated  respecting  the  longevity  of 
the  Mule,  I  think  it  may  be  fairly  assumed,  that  he  does  not 
deteriorate  more  rapidly  after  twenty  years  of  age,  than  the 
horse  after  ten,  allowing  the  same  extent  of  work  and  simi- 
lar treatment  to  each.  The  contrast  in  the  Mule's  freedom 
3  R 


from  malady  or  disease,  compared  with  the  horse,  is  not  less 
striking.  Arthur  Young,  during  his  tour  in  Ireland,  was 
informed  that  a  gentleman  had  lost  several  fine  Mules  by 
feeding  them  on  wheat  straw  cut;  and  I  have  been  informed 
that  a  Mule  dealer,  in  the  western  part  of  New  York,  attri- 
buted the  loss  of  a  number  of  young  Mules,  in  a  severe  win- 
ter, when  his  hay  was  exhausted,  to  feeding  them  exclu- 
sively on  cut  straw  and  Indian  corn  meal.  In  no  other 
instance  havel  ever  heard  or  known  of  a  Mule  being  attacked 
with  any  disorder  or  complaint,  except  two  or  three  cases 
of  inflammation  of  the  intestines,  caused  by  gross  neglect  in 
permitting  them  to  remain  exposed  to  cold  and  wet,  when 
in  a  high  state  of  perspiration  after  severe  labour,  and  drink- 
ing to  excess  of  cold  water.  From  his  light  frame  and  more 
cautious  movements,  the  mule  is  less  subject  to  casualties 
than  the  horse.  Indeed,  it  is  not  improbable,  but  a  farmer 
may  work  the  same  team  of  Mules  above  twenty  years  and 
never  be  presented  with  a  farrier's  bill,  or  find  it  necessary 
to  exercise  the  art  himself. 

Sir  John  Sinclair,  in  his  "Reports  on  the  Agriculture  of 
Scotland,"  remarks  that  "if  the  whole  period  of  a  horse's 
labour  be  fifteen  j-ears,  the  first  six  may  be  equal  in  value  to 
that  of  the  remaining  nine:  therefore,  a  horse  of  ten  years 
old,  after  working  six  years,  may  be  worth  half  his  original 
value."  He  estimates  the  annual  decline  of  a  horse  to  be 
equal  to  fifty  percent,  on  his  price  every  six  years,  and  sup- 
poses one  out  of  twenty-five  that  are  regularly  employed  in 
agriculture,  to  die  every  year:  constituting  a  charge  of  four 
per  cent,  per  annum  for  insurance  against  diseases  and  acci- 
dents. He  considers  five  acres  of  land,  of  medium  quality, 
necessary  for  the  maintenance  of  each  horse,  and  the  annual 
expense,  including  harness,  shoeing,  farriery,  insurance  and 
decline  in  value,  allowing  him  to  cost  two  hundred  dollars, 
to  exceed  that  sum  about  five  per  cent.,  which  is  the  only- 
difference  between  the  estimate  of  this  illustrious  and  accu- 
rate agriculturalist,  and  that  of  a  respectable  committee  of 
the  Farmers'  Society  of  Barnwell  district,  South  Carolina, 
who,  in  a  report  published  in  the  Charleston  Courier,  of  23d 
of  February  last,  state,  that  "the  annual  expense  of  keeping 
a  horse  is  equal  to  his  value!"  The  same  committee  also 
state,  that  "at  four  years  old  a  horse  will  seldom  sell  for 
more  than  the  expense  of  rearing  him."  That  "the  supe- 
riority of  the  Mule  over  the  horse,  had  long  been  appreci- 
ated by  some  of  their  most  judicious  planters — that  two 
Mules  could  be  raised  at  less  expense  than  one  horse — that 
a  Mule  is  fit  for  service  at  an  earlier  period,  if  of  sufficient 
size — will  perform  as  much  labour,  and  if  attended  to  when 
first  put  to  work,  his  gait  and  habits  may  be  formed  to  suit 
the  taste  of  the  owner."  This  report  may  be  considered  a 
most  valuable  document,  emanating  as  it  does,  from  en- 
lightened practical  farmers  and  planters,  in  a  section  of 


250 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


country  where  we  may  suppose  a  Iiorse  can  be  maintained 
cheaper  than  in  Maryland,  or  any  State  farther  North. 

I  am  convinced  that  the  small  breed  of  Mules  will  con- 
sume less  in  proportion  to  the  labour  they  are  capable  of 
performinj^,  than  the  large  race,  but  I  shall  contine  the  com- 
parison to  tlie  latter — those  that  stand  from  fourteen  and  a 
half,  to  rising  of  fifteen  hands,  and  equal  to  any  labour  that 
a  horse  is  usually  put  to.  From  repeated  experiments  in 
the  course  of  two  winters,  I  found,  that  three  Mules  of  this 
description,  that  were  constantly  at  work,  consumed  about 
the  same  quantity  of  hay,  and  only  one-fourth  the  provender 
that  was  given  to  two  middling  sized  coach  horses  mode- 
rately worked.  And  from  many  years  attentive  observa- 
tion, I  am  led  to  believe  that  a  large  sized  Mule  will  not 
require  more  than  three-fifths  to  two-thirds  the  food,  to 
keep  him  in  good  order,  that  will  be  necessary  for  a  horse 
performing  the  same  extent  of  labour.  Although  a  Mule 
will  work  and  endure  on  such  mean  and  hard  fare,  that  a 
horse  would  soon  give  out  upon,  he  has  an  equal  relish  for 
that  which  is  good;  and  it  is  strict  economy  to  indulge  him, 
for  no  animal  will  pay  better  for  extra  keep,  by  extra  work. 
But  if,  by  hard  fare,  or  hard  work,  he  is  reduced  to  a  skele- 
ton, two  or  three  weeks  rest  and  good  keeping  will  put  him 
in  flesh  and  high  condition  for  labour.  I  have  witnessed 
several  such  examples  with  subjects  twenty  years  old ;  so 
much  cannot  be  said  of  a  horse  at  that  age.  The  expense 
of  shoeing  a  Mule  the  year  round,  does  not  amount  to  more 
than  one-third  that  of  a  horse,  his  hoofs  being  harder,  more 
horny,  and  so  slow  in  their  growth,  the  shoes  require  no 
removal,  and  hold  on  till  worn  out — and  the  wear,  from  the 
lightness  of  llic  animal,  is  much  less. 

In  answer  to  the  charge  generally  prevalent  against  the 
Mule,  that  he  is  "vicious,  stubborn, and  slow,"  I  can  assert, 
that  out  of  about  twenty  that  have  been  employed  on  my 
estate,  at  different  periods  during  a  course  of  thirty  years, 
and  those  picked  up  chiefly  on  account  of  their  size  and 
spirit,  wherever  they  could  be  found,  one  only  had  any 
vicious  propensities,  and  those  might  have  been  subdued  by 
proper  management  when  young.  I  have  always  found 
them  truer  i)ullers,  and  quicker  travellers  with  a  load,  than 
horses.  Their  vision  and  hearing  is  much  more  accurate. 
I  have  used  tliem  in  my  family  carriage,  in  a  gig,  and  under 
the  saddle:  and  have  never  known  one  to  start  or  run  from 
any  object  or  noise:  a  fault  in  the  horse  that  continually 
causes  the  maiming  and  death  of  numbers  of  human  beings. 
The  Mule  is  more  steady  in  his  draught,  and  less  likely  to 
waste  his  strength  than  the  horse:  hence  more  suitable  to 
work  with  oxen;  and  as  he  walks  faster,  will  habituate  them 
to  a  quicker  gait.  But  for  none  of  the  purposes  of  agricul- 
ture does  his  superiority  appear  more  conspicuous  than 
ploughing  among  crops,  his  feet  being  smaller  and  follow 


each  other  so  much  more  in  a  line,  that  he  seldom  treads 
down  the  ridges  or  crops.  The  facility  of  instructing  him 
to  obey  implicitly  the  voice  of  his  driver  or  the  ploughman, 
is  astonishing.  The  best  ploughed  tillage  land  I  ever  saw, 
I  have  had  performed  by  two  Mules,  tandem,  without  linea 
or  driver. 

There  is  one  plausible  objection  often  urged  against  the 
Mule,  that  "on  deep  soils  and  deep  roads,  his  feet  being  so 
much  smaller  than  those  of  the  horse,  sink  farther  in;"  but 
it  should  be  considered  that  lie  can  extricate  them  with  as 
much  greater  facility. 

Few  can  be  ignorant  of  the  capacity  of  the  ]Mule  to  en- 
dure labour  in  a  temperature  of  heat  that  would  be  destruc- 
tive to  tlie  horse,  who  have  any  knowledge  of  the  preference 
for  him  merely  on  that  account,  in  the  West  Indies,  and  in 
the  Southern  Slates. 

It  is  full  time  to  bring  our  comparison  to  a  close,  which 
I  shall  do  by  assuming  the  position,  that  the  farmer  who 
substitutes  Mules  for  horses,  will  have  this  portion  of  his 
animal  labour  performed,  with  the  expense  of  one  spire  of 
grass  instead  of  two;  which  may  be  equal,  so  far,  to  making 
"two  spires  grow  where  one  grew  before."  For  although 
a  large  sized  ]\Iule  will  consume  somewhat  more  than  half 
the  food  necessary  for  a  horse,  as  has  been  observed,  yet  if 
we  take  into  account  the  saving  in  expense  of  shoeing,  far- 
riery, and  insurance  against  diseases  and  accidents,  we  may 
safely  afiirm,  that  a  clear  saving  of  one  half  can  be  fully  sub- 
stantiated. But  in  addition  to  this,  the  Mule  farmer  may 
calculate,  with  tolerable  certainty,  upon  the  continuation  of 
his  capital  for  thirty  years:  whereas  the  horse  farmer,  at 
the  expiration  oi  fifteen  years,  must  look  to  his  crops,  to 
his  acres,  or  a  bank,  for  the  renewal  of  his — or  perhaps, 
what  is  worse,  he  must  commence  liorsc  jockey  at  an  early 
period. 

The  intense  interest  with  which  the  public  mind  is  at  pre- 
sent occupied  on  the  subject  of  canals  now  in  operation  and 
progress,  encourages  me  to  offer  the  IMulc  as  an  important 
auxiliary  in  the  economy  of  their  management;  as  I  trust,  it 
will  not  be  denied,  that  on  the  cheapness  of  transportation 
on  them,  depends  their  utility  as  well  as  profit  to  the  stock- 
holders. The  JNIule  seems  so  peculiarly  adapted  for  the 
labour  on  canals,  that  compared  with  the  horse,  he  may  be 
considered  almost  equal  to  a  locomotive  power  engine. 
Among  the  advantages  we  have  enum.crated  respecting  his 
use  in  husbandry,  the  most  of  which  are  applicable  to  canal 
labour,  that  of  the  much  greater  security  from  diseases  and 
casualities,  which  must  necessarily  require  a  great  number 
of  supernumerary  horses,  to  prevent  interruption  in  the  line 
of  passage,  is  not  the  least  important,  nor  is  the  very  trifling 
expense  at  which  the  JNIule  can  be  supported  during  the 
winter  months,  as  he  will  bear  being  taken  off  his  feed  till 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


251 


the  boats  are  about  to  be  launched  in  the  spring,  and  in  a 
few  days  can  be  made  fit  for  eflicient  duty — while  a  horse 
will  require  at  least  half  feed  if  he  does  nothing,  or  must  be 
fed  high  for  some  time  before  he  can  resume  the  labour  that 
will  bs  demanded  of  him.  The  same  advantages  may  be 
derived  by  his  employment  on  railways. 

I  cannot  resist  an  impulse  to  exhibit  the  Mule  in  one 
other  point  of  view.  For  the  movement  of  machinery,  the 
employment  of  this  animal,  when  judiciously  selected,  has 
met  with  a  most  decided  preference,  in  comparison  with  the 
horse,  independent  of  the  economy  in  using  him.  And  if 
we  consider  the  rapid,  and  probably  progressive  increase  of 
labour-saving  machines,  in  every  department  where  they 
can  be  made  subservient  to  the  requirements  of  society,  it 
is  evident  that  there  will  be  a  corresponding  demand  for 
animal  power,  as  well  as  for  that  more  potent,  derived  from 
the  elements;  and  although  the  latter  may  vastly  predomi- 
nate, yet  should  the  horse  be  employed,  and  his  increase  for 
other  purposes  continue,  as  it  now  does  in  the  ratio  of  popu- 
lation, the  number,  at  no  very  distant  period,  may  become 
as  alarming  in  our  own,  as  it  is  at  present  in  our  mother 
countr3^  And  notwithstanding  we  may  feel  secure,  from 
the  extent  of  our  territory  and  extreme  diversity  of  soil  and 
climate,  but,  above  all,  from  being  in  possession  of  Indian 
corn — the  GOLDEN  FLEECE  found  by  our  <' pilgrim  fathers," 
when  they  first  landed  on  these  shores;  yet  such  peculiar 
advantages  may  not  insure  us  against  the  visitations  of  one 
of  the  most  distressing  calamities  that  a  feeling  community 
can  possibly  be  subjected  to. 

Mason's  Farrier. 


NOTES  OF  A  NATURALIST. 

By  Jacob  Greex,  JNI.  D. 

Remarks  upon  some  of  the  marine  animals  ivhich  inhabit 
the  North  Jitlantic  Ocean. 

On  the  12th  of  May,  when  about  one  hundred  miles  to 
the  westward  of  Mizen  Head,  on  the  coast  of  Ireland,  in 
my  passage  across  the  Atlantic,  we  encountered  one  of  those 
long  and  monotonous  calms,  which  so  frequently  occur  in 
these  lattiludes  at  this  season  of  the  year.  For  two  or  three 
daj's  scarcely  a  breath  of  wind  agitated  the  air,  or  a  wave 
ruffled  the  smooth  surface  of  the  ocean.  At  my  request, 
Capt.  Dixey,  the  obliging  master  of  our  packet  ship,  fur- 
nished me  with  a  small  boat,  in  which  I  made  a  little  excur- 
sion on  the  water,  for  a  mile  or  two  round  the  vessel,  in 
search  of  marine  animals.     Among  the  number  captured 


were  multitudes  of  the  Cleodora,  probably  the  species 
called  Cleodora  lanceolata  of  Peron  and  Le  Sueur.*'  The 
body  of  this  little  moluscous  animal  is  partly  covered  by  a 
thin  transparent  shell,  like  an  inverted  pyramid,  or  a  hollow 
spear  head;  I  observed  them  in  large  groupes  or  shoals, 
not  only  close  to  the  surface  of  the  water,  but  also  some 
fathoms  below  it.  They  appeared  of  a  greenish  hue  through- 
out, the  colour  of  the  animal  being  distinctly  visible  through 
its  transparent  shell.  They  seemed  to  float  horizontally  in 
the  water,  that  is,  the  axes  of  the  conical  shell  was  nearly 
parallel  to  the  surface.  When  under  the  water,  their  powers 
of  locomotion  are  exceedingly  limited,  if  they  possess  them 
at  all.  On  reaching  the  hand  into  the  water  to  capture 
them,  they  exhibited  no  motion,  and  on  drawing  into  the 
boat  a  line,  which  I  had  thrown  out,  many  of  them  were 
found  adhering  to  it.  There  seems  to  be  a  curious  organi- 
zation of  these  animals  which  has  escaped  the  notice  of 
Peron  and  Le  Sueur,  who  have  given  us  the  best  account 
of  them.  At  the  apex  of  the  conical  shell  there  is  a  small 
globular  enlargement,  which  appears  to  be  filled  by  minute 
muscular  filaments  from  the  end  of  the  body.  By  this  con- 
trivance the  animal  is  not  only  attached  to  the  shell,  but  a 
small  degree  of  motion  between  its  testaceous  and  muscular 
parts  may  be  produced. 

Three  or  four  days  before  the  little  exctirsion  I  have  just 
noticed,  I  amused  myself  in  taking,  with  a  small  net,  the 
velellffi,  which  floated  in  vast  numbers  past  the  sliip.  The 
velella  is  a  small,  flat,  cartilaginous  animal,  about  the  size 
and  thickness  of  a  dollar,  having  a  little  sail  or  crest  passing 
transversely  over  the  top  or  upper  surface;  this  little  sail  is 
fringed  with  blue,  and  the  whole  portion  of  the  animal  out 
of  the  water  shines  with  all  the  colours  of  the  rainbow. 
Sometimes  the  sudden  rippling  of  the  waves,  or  a  puflf  of 
the  wind,  would  overturn  them ;  but  they  soon  regained 
their  upright  position.  On  placing  these  animals  in  a  turn- 
bier  of  sea-water,  they  exhibited  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
objects  I  have  seen.  The  fringe  of  the  little  sail  which 
crosses  its  back,  and  the  curved  and  radiating  lines  on  the 
body  of  the  animal,  all  presented  a  fine  play  of  pavonine 
colours.  Attached  to  the  lower  surface  of  the  velella  I  no- 
ticed, in  almost  every  instance,  the  little  blue  shell,  called 
ianthina,  and  which  I  first  believed  to  be  the  parent  or 
rightful  owner  of  the  floating  apparatus.  It  is  probable, 
however,  that  it  makes  use  of  the  velella,  not  only  to  sup- 
port itself  near  the  surface  of  the  ocean,  but  that  it  also  de- 
rives from  it  its  principal  nourishment,  by  absorbino-  its 
juices.     From  some  observation,  I  am  rather  of  the  opinion 

*  In  Peron  and  Le  Sueur's  account  of  the  moluscous  animals  taken  in  the 
Mediterranean  near  Nice,  this  is  called  hyaUa  lanceolata.  We  are  at  a  loss 
to  account  for  this  mistake  in  these  remarkably  profound  and  accurate  Zoolo- 
gists. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  mSTORY 


that  the  animal  economy  of  these  two  molluscse  is  singularly 
adapted  to  their  mutual  benefit;  the  velella  supplying  nour- 
ishment and  a  floating  apparatus  to  the  ianthina,  and  the 
ianthina,  by  its  attachment  below  so  balancing  and  ballasting 
the  velelte,  as  to  preserve  it  in  an  upright  position,  which 
is  necessary  to  its  motions  through  the  water.  However 
this  may  be,  there  appeared,  upon  closely  examining  a 
great  number,  but  little  injury  sustained  by  the  velellas  from 
its  parasite.  Some  of  the  adhering  shells  were  quite  young, 
and  others  full  grown  specimens.  As  far  as  my  knowledge 
in  natural  history  extends,  the  ianthina  was  never  before 
ascertained  to  be  parastitic  to  the  velella,  or  made  use  of 
its  buoyancy  on  the  surface  of  the  waves  to  supply  the  place 
of  its  own  beautiful  apparatus  of  air  cells.  This  fact  con- 
firms the  acuteness  of  Cuvier,  that  accurate  observer  of  na- 
ture, who  justly  concluded  that  the  ordinary  floating  appa- 
ratus of  the  ianthina  was  sometimes  naturally  absent;  as,  in 
some  specimens  of  the  animal  which  he  examined,  not  a 
vestige  of  that  organ  could  be  perceived,  and  no  scar  or  cica- 
trix on  the  foot,  by  which  it  is  secreted,  could,  on  the  most 
minute  examination,  be  discovered. 

Both  the  ianthina  and  velella  seem  to  throw  out  a  violet 
coloured  liquid,  when  first  captured.  The  purple  fluid  dis- 
charged by  these  animals  will  stain  a  white  handkerchief  a 
fine  rich  colour.  As  the  ianthina  is  often  found  in  the 
Mediterranean  sea,  it  has  been  suggested,  with  some  plau- 
sibility, that  this  purple  fluid  may  be  the  basis  of  the  Tyrian 
dye,  or  ancient  royal  purple,  accidentally  discovered  by  the 
dog  of  Hercules.  I  regret  very  much  that  I  could  not  try 
the  effect  of  acids  and  alkalies  on  this  colour.  According 
to  Pliny,  alkalies  gave  it  a  green  tint;  if  so,  it  is  analogous 
to  a  vegetable  blue  or  purple.  We  are  informed  by  Stavo- 
rinus,  that  when  the  liquid  obtained  from  the  ianthina  is 
evaporated  to  dryness,  a  powder  is  obtained,  which,  on 
being  mixed  with  gum-water,  forms  a  beautiful  purple  paint. 

Since  writing  the  above,  I  find,  in  a  late  foreign  journal, 
that  Mr.  Lesson  has  satisfactorily  proved  that  the  Tyrian 
purple,  noticed  by  Pliny,  was  undoubtedly  derived  from 
the  ianthina.  He  states,  from  some  imperfect  trials,  that 
the  colour  of  the  ianthina  will  form  a  valuable  re-agent,  for 
it  passes  very  readily  to  red,  under  the  action  of  acids,  and 
returns  to  blue  under  that  of  alkalies.  With  the  oxalate  of 
ammonia  it  gives  a  precipitate  of  a  dark  blue  colour,  and 
with  the  nitrate  of  silver  a  very  pleasant  greyish  blue,  both 
of  which  are  good  colours  for  drawing. 

I  am  doubtful  as  to  the  specific  name  both  of  the  ianthina 
and  velella  above  noticed.  The  velella  approaches  very 
near  to  the  V.  mittica,  but  the  tentacula;  on  the  under  sur- 
face cover  it  completely,  except  a  narrow  space  at  the  mar- 
gin, and  a  small  portion  immediately  round  the  mouth; 
they  are  also  longer  near  the  margin,  and  gradually  dimin- 


ish in  length  as  they  recede  inwards.     If  the  animal  proves 
to  be  new,  I  shall  call  it  Velella  atlantica. 

The  ianthina  is  very  closely  allied  to  the  /.  globosa 
figured  in  Swainson's  Zoological  Illustrations,  though  the 
shell  is  by  no  means  so  large  and  beautifully  coloured  as 
those  there  represented. 


SUMMER  DUCK,  OR  WOOD  DUCK. 

[Plate  XXIL] 

Le  Canard  cVEtl:,  Briss.  vi.  p.  35L  W.  pi.  Z%.  fig.  2. 

Le  beau  Canard  huppe,  Buff,  ix,  p.  245. — PI.  Enl. 
9S0.  981, — Suviiner  Duck,CAT^iiViY,  1,  pi.  97. — Edw. 
pi.  \0\.—^rct.  Zool.  No.  943.— Lath.  Syn.  in.  p. 
546. — ^nas  spoiisa,  Gmel.  Syst.  i,  p.  539,  No.  43. — 
Jnd.  Orn.  p.  S76,  No.  97.— Philadelphia  Museum. 

"This  most  beautiful  of  all  our  Ducks,  has  probably  no 
superior  among  its  whole  tribe  for  richness  and  variety  of 
colours.  It  is  called  the  JVood  Duck,  from  the  circum- 
stance of  its  breeding  in  hollow  trees;  and  the  Summer 
Duck,  from  remaining  with  us  chiefly  during  the  summer. 
It  is  familiarly  known  in  every  quarter  of  the  United  States, 
from  Florida  to  Lake  Ontario,  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
which  latter  place  I  have  myself  met  with  it  in  October. 
It  rarely  visits  the  seashore,  or  salt  marshes;  its  favourite 
haunts  being  the  solitary  deep  and  muddy  creeks,  ponds, 
and  mill  dams  of  the  interior,  making  its  nest  frequently  in 
old  hollow  trees  that  overhang  the  water. 

The  Summer  Duck  is  equally  well  known  in  Mexico  and 
many  of  the  West  India  islands.  During  the  whole  of  our 
winters  they  are  occasionally  seen  in  H.ie  States  south  of  the 
Potomac.  On  the  tenth  of  Januar}^  I  met  with  two  on  a 
creek  near  Petersburg  in  Virginia.  In  the  more  northern 
districts,  however,  they  are  migratory.  In  Pennsylvania 
the  female  usually  begins  to  lay  late  in  April  or  early  in 
May.  Instances  have  been  known  where  the  nest  was  con- 
structed of  a  few  sticks  laid  in  a  fork  of  the  branches;  usu- 
ally, however,  the  inside  of  a  hollow  tree  is  selected  for 
this  purpose.  On  the  eighteenth  of  May  I  visited  a  tree 
containing  the  nest  of  a  Summer  Duck,  on  the  banks  of 
Tuckahoe  river.  New  Jersey.  It  was  an  old  grotesque 
white  oak,  whose  top  had  been  torn  off  by  a  storm.  It 
stood  on  the  declivity  of  the  bank,  about  twenty  yards  from 
the  water.  In  this  hollow  and  broken  top,  and  about  six 
feet  down,  on  the  soft  decayed  wood,  lay  tliirteen  eggs, 
snugly  covered  with  down,  doubtless  taken  from  the  breast 
of  the  bird.     These  eggs  were  of  an  exact  oval  shape,  less 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


than  those  of  a  hen,  the  surface  exceedingly  fine  grained, 
and  of  the  highest  polish  and  slightly  yellowish,  greatly 
resembling  old  polished  ivory.  The  egg  measured  two 
inches  and  an  eighth  by  one  inch  and  a  half.  On  breaking 
one  of  them,  the  young  bird  was  found  to  be  nearly  hatched, 
but  dead,  as  neither  of  the  parents  had  been  observed  about 
the  tree  during  the  three  or  four  days  preceding;  and  were 
conjectured  to  have  been  shot. 

This  tree  had  been  occupied,  probably  by  the  same  pair, 
for  four  successive  years,  in  breeding  time;  the  person  who 
gave  me  the  information,  and  whose  house  was  within 
twenty  or  thirty  yards  of  the  ti-ee,  said  that  he  had  seen  the 
female,  the  spring  preceding,  carry  down  thirteen  young, 
one  by  one,  in  less  than  ten  minutes.  She  caught  them  in 
her  bill  by  the  wing  or  back  of  the  neck,  and  landed  them 
safely  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  whence  she  afterwards  led 
them  to  the  water.  Under  this  same  tree,  at  the  time  I 
visited  it,  a  large  sloop  lay  on  the  stocks,  nearly  finished, 
the  deck  was  not  more  than  twelve  feet  distant  from  the 
nest,  yet  notwithstanding  the  presence  and  noise  of  the 
workmen,  the  ducks  would  not  abandon  their  old  breeding 
place,  but  continued  to  pass  out  and  in  as  if  no  person  had 
been  near.  The  male  usually  perched  on  an  adjoining  limb, 
and  kept  watch  while  the  female  was  laying;  and  also  often 
while  she  was  sitting.  A  tame  goose  had  chosen  a  hollow 
space  at  the  root  of  the  same  tree,  to  lay  and  hatch  her 
young  in. 

The  Summer  Duck  seldom  flies  in  flocks  of  more  than 
three  or  four  individuals  together,  and  most  commonly  in 
pairs,  or  singly.  The  common  note  of  the  drake  is  peet, 
peet;  but,  when  standing  sentinel,  he  sees  danger,  he  makes 
a  noise  not  unlike  the  crowing  of  a  young  cock,  oe  eeki 
oe  eeki  Their  food  consists  principally  of  acorns,  chesnuts, 
seeds  of  the  wild  oats,  and  insects.  Their  flesh  is  inferior 
to  that  of  the  Blue-winged  Teal.  They  are  frequent  in  the 
markets  of  Philadelphia  and  New  York. 

Among  other  gaudy  feathers  with  which  the  Indians  or- 
nament the  calumet,  or  pipe  of  peace,  the  skin  of  the  head 
and  neck  of  the  Summer  Duck  is  frequently  seen  covering 
the  stem. 

This  beautiful  bird  has  often  been  tamed,  and  soon  be- 
comes so  familiar  as  to  permit  one  to  stroke  its  back  with 
the  hand.  I  have  seen  individuals  so  tamed  in  various 
parts  of  the  Union.  Captain  Boyce,  collector  of  the  port 
of  Havre-de-Grace,  informs  me  that  about  forty  years  ago, 
a  Mr.  Nathan  Nicols,  who  lived  on  the  west  side  of  Gun- 
powder creek,  had  a  whole  yard  swarming  with  Summer 
Ducks,  which  he  had  tamed  and  completely  domesticated, 
so  that  they  bred  and  were  as  familiar  as  any  other  tame 
fowls;  that  he  (Capt.  Boyce)  himself  saw  them  in  that  state, 
but  does  not  know  what  became  of  them.  Latham  says 
3S 


that  they  are  often  kept  in  European  menageries,  and  will 
breed  there. 

The  Wood  Duck  is  nineteen  inches  in  length,  and  two 
feet  four  inches  in  extent,  bill  red,  margined  with  black;  a 
spot  of  black  lies  between  the  nostrils,  reaching  nearly  to 
the  tip,  which  is  also  of  the  same  colour,  and  furnished  with 
a  large  hooked  nail;  irides  orar.ge  red;  front,  crown,  and 
pendent  crest  rich  glossy  bronze  green  ending  in  violet, 
elegantly  marked  with  a  line  of  pure  white  running  from 
the  upper  mandible  over  the  eye,  and  with  another  band  of 
white  proceeding  from  behind  the  eye,  both  mingling  their 
long  pendent  plumes  with  the  green  and  violet  ones,  pro- 
ducing a  rich  effect ;  cheeks  and  sides  of  the  upper  neck 
violet;  chin,  throat,  and  collar  round  the  neck  pure  white, 
curving  up  in  the  form  of  a  crescent  nearly  to  the  posterior 
part  of  the  ej^e;  the  white  collar  is  bounded  below  with 
black;  breast  dark  violet  brown,  marked  on  the  fore  part 
with  minute  triangular  spots  of  white,  increasing  in  size 
until  they  spread  into  the  white  of  the  belly;  each  side  of 
the  breast  is  bounded  b}'  a  large  crescent  of  white,  and  that 
again  by  a  broader  one  of  deep  black;  sides  under  the  wings 
thickly  and  beautifully  marked  with  fine  undulating  parallel 
lines  of  black,  on  a  ground  of  yellowish  drab;  the  flanks  are 
ornamented  with  broad  alternate  semicircular  bands  of  black 
and  white;  sides  of  the  vent  I'ich  light  violet;  tail-coverts 
long,  of  a  hair-like  texture  at  the  sides,  over  which  they 
descend,  and  of  a  deep  black  glossed  with  green;  back 
dusky  bronze,  reflecting  green;  scapulars  black;  tail  taper- 
ing, dark  glossy  green  above,  below  dusky;  primaries 
dusky,  silvery  hoary  without,  tipt  with  violet  blue;  secon- 
daries greenish  blue,  tipt  with  white;  wing-coverts  violet 
blue  tipt  with  black;  vent  dusky;  legs  and  feet  yellowish 
red,  claws  strong  and  hooked.  The  above  is  an  accurate 
description. 

The  female  has  the  head  slightly  crested,  crown  dark 
purple,  behind  the  eye  a  bar  of  white;  chin,  and  throat  for 
two  inches,  also  white;  head  and  neck  dark  drab;  breast 
dusky  brown,  marked  with  large  triangular  spots  of  white; 
back  dark  glossy  bronze  brown,  with  some  gold  and  green- 
ish reflections.  Speculum  of  the  wings  nearly  the  same  as 
in  the  m.ale,  but  the  fine  pencilling  of  the  sides,  and  the  long 
hair-like  tail-coverts,  are  wanting;  the  tail  is  also  shorter." 


SHOOTING  PARTIES. 


At  an  annual  shooting  match  at  St.  Stephen,  N.  B.  30th 
ult.  two  parties  of  seven  men  each,  returned  100  partridges, 
6  black  ducks,  6  robins,  17  woodcocks,  70  squirrels,  3  yel- 
low hammers,  2  snipes,  2  blackbirds,  1  pigeon,  2  jays,  1 
rabbit,  1  bear— total  214. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


PROCEEDINGS  OF  THE  CINCINNATI  ANGLING  CLUB. 

Doubt  not,  therefore,  sir,  but  that  Angling  is  an  art  worth  your  learning: 
the  question  is,  rather,  whether  you  be  capable  of  learning  it?  for  Angling 
is  somewhat  like  poetry,  men  are  born  so :  I  mean  with  inclinations  to  it — 
though  both  may  be  strengthened  by  diseoursc  and  practiee  :  but  he  that 
hopes  to  be  a  good  Angler,  must  not  only  bring  an  inquiring,  searching,  ob- 
serving wit ;  but  he  must  bring  a  large  measure  of  hope  and  patience,  and  a 
propensity  to  the  art  itself;  but  having  once  got  and  practised  it,  then  doubt 
not  but  Angling  wiU  prove  so  pleasant,  that  it  \vill  be  like  virtue,  a  reward 
to  itself 

And  for  you  that  have  heard  many  grave,  serious  men,  pity  anglers,  let 
me  tell  you,  sir,  there  be  many  men  that  are  by  otliers  taken  to  be  serious 
and  grave  men,  whom  we  consider  and  pity.  Men  that  are  taken  to  be  grave 
because  nature  has  made  them  of  a  sour  complexion— money-getting  men — 
men  that  spend  all  their  time,  first,  getting,  and  next  in  anxious  care  to 
keep  it — men  that  are  condemned  to  be  rich,  and  then  always  busy  or  dis- 
contented; for  these  poor,  rich,  men,  we  Anglers  pity  them  perfectly,  and 
atand  in  no  need  to  borrow  tlieir  thoughts  to  think  ourselves  so  happy. 

IZAAK  WALTON. 

PISCATORIAL  CELEBRATION. 

Some  lovers  of  the  Rod,  resident  in  this  city,  conform- 
ing to  the  spirit  of  the  times  in  regard  to  associations,  have 
recently  united  themselves  under  the  style  and  title  of  the 
Cincinnati  Angling  Club.  A  constitution  has  been 
adopted,  and  by-laws  established  for  their  future  govern- 
ment. The  number  of  members  is  limited  to  twevty-five. 
The  officers  are,  a  President,  Vice  President,  Secretary, 
and  three  Counsellors.  Four  regular  meetings  are  to  be 
held  in  each  year,  the  last  of  which, — the  first  Thursday  of 
October, — is  the  Anniversary,  at  which  time  the  members 
of  the  Club  dine  together,  and  have  cither  a  discourse  deli- 
vered to  them  upon  angling  and  ichthyology,  or  else  a 
chapter  read  to  them  from  the  pages  of  "honest  old  Izaak 


Walton."  A  record  of  all  the  piscatory  proceedings  of 
the  members,  is  kept  by  the  Secretary,  it  being  the  duty  of 
each  one  of  the  Club,  to  report,  upon  his  return  from  an 
angling  excursion,  the  nature  and  extent  of  his  success  with 
the  finny  tribe. 

The  first  anniversary  of  the  Club  took  place  on  Thursday 
of  last  week.  It  was  celebrated  at  Col.  William  Clark's, 
on  White  Water,  about  twenty  miles  north-west  of  this 
city.  A  part  of  the  brethren  made  a  lodgment  at  this  point 
on  Wednesda)'',  and  were  joined  by  otliers,  with  a  few 
invited  guests,  (among  whom,  thanks  to  our  good  luck,  we 
were  numbered,)  on  the  morning  of  the  following  day.  Of 
the  whole  number  present,  not  more  than  12  or  15  engaged 
with  the  rod.  These  angled  for  a  day  and  a  half,  and 
with  capital  success,  having  caught  within  that  time,  three 
hundred  and  fifty -three  Bass  and  Salmon,  many  of  the 
former  being  unusually  large.  One  of  the  Bass,  caught  by 
the  superior  skill  of  the  President,  after  a  severe  contest, 
weighed  _^t'e  pounds  two  ounces,  being  the  largest  fish,  of 
that  kind,  ever  taken  by  an  angler  from  the  waters  of  the 
Miami. 

At  five  o'clock,  P.  M.  the  compan)^,  about  thirty  in  num- 
ber, sat  down  to  a  table,  richly  stored  with  the  ichthyolo- 
gical  treasures,  which  their  skill  had  drawn  from  the  neigh- 
bouring streams.  They  were  served  up  in  every  variety 
of  form  that  could  delight  the  eye  or  please  the  taste,  hav- 
ing been  dressed  by  experienced  cooks,  in  nine  or  ten  dif- 
ferent modes.  The  "  noble  Bass"  caught  by  the  President, 
was  placed  in  front  of  him,  at  tlie  head  ef  the  table.  After 
the  company  had  borne  ample  testimony  to  the  excellence 
of  the  dishes,  and  giving  satisfactory  proof  of  possessing  a 
very  reasonable  portion  of  good  taste,  the  following  intel- 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


258 


lectual  exercises  supervened  upon  those  of  a  more  physical 
character.  The  President  read  the  first  of  the  regular 
toasts: 

1 .  The  ohject  of  our  Association — To  blend  social  amuse- 
ment with  healthy  recreation. 

After  this  toast  was  drank,  the  President  announced  that 
a  brother  member  would  favour  the  company  with  a  dis- 
course, which  he  had  been  appointed  to  deliver.  This  was 
listened  to  with  profound  attention,  and  received  with  loud 
applause.  We  have  been  kindly  promised  a  copy  of  this 
discourse,  which  we  shall  place  before  our  readers  next 
week,  satisfied  that  it  will  be  the  means  of  converting  many 
of  them  to  the  noble  sports  of  the  rod,  and  of  adding  some- 
thing, at  least,  to  the  amusement  of  all. 

After  the  address  was  concluded,  the  remainder  of  the 
toasts  were  drank. 

2.  The  day  and  the  occasion — Our  first  anniversary — 
may  we  live  in  friendship  and  harmony  to  enjoy  many 
more. 

3.  The  art  of  Angling — Of  great  antiquity  and  inge- 
nuity— not  to  be  catight  by  every  Buckeye  who  attempts 
to  hook  it. 

4.  IVater — The  element  of  our  art — "  the  eldest  daugh- 
ter of  creation,"  and  the  mightiest  of  all. 

5.  Fish — In  variety  and  numbers,  the  most  wonderful  of 
the  animal  creation,  and  the  source  of  food  and  amifsement 
to  man. 

6.  The  memory  of  "  honest  Izaak  Walton" — The 
great  "  father  of  anglers" — celebrated  alike  for  his  skill  in 
the  art,  and  his  kind  and  benevolent  nature. 

7.  The  memory  of  Charles  Cotton — The  experienced 
angler,  and  adopted  son  of  honest  Izaak. 

8.  The  memory  of  IVynkin  de  TVorde,  of  the  14th  cen- 
tury— Author  of  the  first  known  treatise  on  angling. 

9.  Our  brother  Anglers  throughout  the  world — "May 
their  course  be  as  clear  as  the  stream  that  they  love." 

10.  Our  Country  and  its  Institutions — May  they  who 
plot  against  either,  be  caught  in  their  own  i^ets. 

11.  The  memory  of  JVashington. 

12.  The  members  of  the  "  Pittsburg  Angling  Club" 
— May  their  tackle  and  their  luck  never  fail  them. 

13.  The  Schuylkill  Fishing  Company— Si'iW  flourish- 
ing in  full  vigor  at  the  advanced  age  of  98 — a  bright  exam- 
ple of  sociability  and  uninterrupted  harmony. 

14.  The  Fair — "Fishers  of  men." 

A  number  of  volunteer  toasts  were  drank,  of  a  technical 
and  spirited  kind.  Among  them  tiie  President  of  the  Club 
and  the  Orator  of  the  day  were  "  freshly  remembered."  At 
dark,  the  company  retired  from  the  table,  and  spent  the 
evening  pleasantly  together.  After  breakfast,  next  morn- 
ing, a  part  of  them  returned  to  the  city;  a  few  stopped  at 


the  Miami  and  angled  for  an  hour  or  two,  with  such  suc- 
cess, as  to  increase  the  vi'hole  number  of  fish  taken  on  the 
occasion,  io  four  hundred  and  thirty-eight. 

It  gives  us  much  pleasure  to  bear  testimony  to  the  order, 
cheerfulness,  and  strict  propriety  of  deportment,  on  the 
part  of  the  members  of  the  Club,  which  prevailed  through- 
out the  whole  of  this  pleasant  and  healtliful  excursion;  and 
we  doubt  not  that  all  our  readers,  could  Ihey  have  partaken 
of  the  Fres'idenVsfvc  pound  Bass,  would  unite  with  us  in 
wishing,  in  the  language  of  "honest  old  Izaak,"  that  "  M« 
east  wind  may  never  blow,  when"  the  Cincinnati  Angling 
Club  ''go  a  fishing." 


An  Address,  delivered  by  appointment,  before  the  Cincinnati  Angling  Club, 
at  their  late  Anniversary.    By  a  Member.    Published  by  order  of  tlie  Club. 

It  hath  long,  my  brethren,  been  a  source  of  regret  to  the 
friends  of  the  fame  and  prosperity  of  the  goodly  city  of  Cin- 
cinnati— a  city,  wherein  arc  to  be  found  many  of  the  most 
philanthropic  men  of  our  age,  as  well  as  a  numerous  body 
of  those  who  are  skilful  and  deservedly  eminent  in  almost 
all  the  avocations  of  life,  and  where  most  of  the  liberal  arts 
and  sciences  receive  countenance  and  encouragement — that 
the  science  of  ichthyology  has  not,  in  that  city,  heretofore, 
been  enabled  to  obtain  the  aid  which  it  might  derive  from 
the  exertions  of  a  well-organized  body  of  anglers;  that  the 
lovers  of  the  manly  and  primitive  amusement  of  angling 
have  suffered  their  favourite  sport  to  be  carried  on  in  a 
loose  and  desultory  manner,  without  order  or  system;  and 
that  the  heart-hardening  pursuits  of  wealth,  the  strife-engen- 
dering devotion  to  party-politics,  and  a  degrading  submission 
to  the  enervating  influence  of  idleness,  should  have  engross- 
ed so  much  of  the  time  and  talents  that  might  be  far  more 
pleasantly  and  profitably  spent  in  the  healthful  and  cheering 
exercise  of  angling. 

It  has  been  a  source  of  regret,  that  those  relaxations  from 
the  more  severe  and  important  duties  of  this  life  which  our 
nature  requires,  have  been  suffered  to  remain  under  the  in- 
fluence of  chance,  and  subject  to  the  control  of  accident, 
instead  of  being,  as  they  ought  to  be,  philosophically  re- 
gulated, so  as  to  be  productive  of  the  influences  they  are 
designed  to  exert  upon  our  characters  and  our  happiness. 
It  is,  however,  highly  gratifying  to  me,  to  be,  at  length, 
enabled  to  congratulate  you,  my  brethren,  upon  the  com- 
mencement of  a  new  era  in  the  history  of  our  city, — an  era 
forming  the  establishment  of  the  Cincinnati  Angling  Club, 
— through  whose  exertions  we  trust  that  the  reproach  of 
such  a  state  of  things  as  has  heretofore  existed  in  relation 
to  our  amusements,  will  be  wiped  away,  and  a  barrier  placed 
against  the  inroads  of  effeminacy  and  vice  into  the  most  im- 


256 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


portant  periods  of  life — the  hours  of  relaxation  and  social 
enjoyment.  I  felicitate  you  upon  the  organization  of  a  so- 
ciety, whose  exertions  will  show  to  our  fellow  citizens,  that 
the  finny  treasures  of  our  waters  have  not  been  bestowed 
upon  us  in  vain;  that  they  are  not,  by  all  the  members  of 
our  community,  unheedingly  and  unthankfully  neglected: 
but  that  the  lovers  of  science,  the  lovers  of  good  eating,  the 
lovers  of  health  and  good  manhood,  and  the  lovers  of  good 
tempers  and  cheerful  dispositions,  are  enabled  to  reckon 
among  the  many  advantages  enjoyed  by  our  city,  the  pos- 
session of  a  society  whose  objects  are  to  increase  the  quan- 
tum of  all  these  good  things,  to  develope  the  various  resour- 
ces of  our  waters — 

"To  dive  into  the  bottom  of  the  deep;" 

"  And  pluclt  up"  bass  and  salmon  on  our  hooks : 

and,  in  short,  to  render  available  that  portion  of  the  boun- 
ties of  Providence,  of  which  a  too  exclusive  attention  to 
terrestrial  affairs  has  hitherto  caused  an  unwarrantable  ne- 
glect. 

It  has  formerly  been  a  mooted  question  among  the  philo- 
sophers and  men  of  science,  "what  is  {par-excellence)  the 
use  of  rivers?"  The  answer  given  by  the  celebrated  Brind- 
ley  is  doubtless  familiar  to  you  all,  viz. :  "  To  feed  naviga- 
ble canals."  The  correctness  of  this  answer  has  been  ques- 
tioned by  many;  and  honest  Izaak  Walton,  had  he  been  re- 
quired to  give  an  answer  to  it,  would  probably  have  given 
the  following,  viz.:  "To  feed  the  lovers  of  good  eating 
with  delicacies  which  the  earth  does  not  produce."  There 
are,  doubtless,  many  worthy  men,  whose  answer  to  this 
question  would  be,  that  the  principal  use  of  rivers  is  to 
afford  a  theatre  for  the  display  of  the  locomotive  powers  of 
the  steam  engine.  Since  the  discovery  of  rail-roads,  how- 
ever, many  are  of  opinion  that  they  are  scarcely  needed  for 
this  purpose.  But  no  discovery  can  ever  be  made  which 
will  supercede  the  necessity  and  utility  of  rivers  to  fisher- 
men. Many  other  answers  to  this  question  have  been 
given,  which  I  will  not  fatigue  you  by  relating,  but  pro- 
ceed to  state  the  answer  which  ive  may  give  to  this  question 
whenever  it  may  be  propounded  to  us,  with  confidence  that 
it  cannot  be  controverted;  and  which  is, — ^that  the  use  of 
rivers  is  to  nourish  and  preserve  materials  for  the  display 
of  the  skill  and  talents  of  the  Cincinnati  Angling  Club. 

The  neglect  of  the  wealth  of  our  rivers  has  been  a  just 
theme  of  reproach  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  Western  coun- 
try in  general.  So  great  has  been  this  neglect,  that  when 
a  certain  erudite  and  profound  professor  undertook  to  enu- 
merate and  describe  the  fishes  of  the  Ohio,  he  discovered 
many  species  which  were  utterly  unknown  to  any  of  our 
citizens — many,  indeed,  which  to  this  day,  remain  unknown 
to  all  but  this  learned  philosopher  himself.     Of  a  renowned 


hero  of  former  times,  the  celebrated  Tom  Thumb,  it  was 
said  that  "  he  made  the  giants  he  killed;"  and  it  has  been 
said  in  like  manner  of  our  learned  Doctor  in  Philosophy, 
that  he  made  many  of  the  fishes  he  described.  Whether  he 
was  entitled  to  this  additional  honour,  could  not,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  lamentable  defect  of  public  curiosity  at  that 
time,  be  determined.  Had  an  organized  club  of  expert 
anglers,  like  ours,  then  been  in  existence,  all  doubts  on  the 
subject  might  have  been  removed,  and  the  world  at  large 
might  have  awarded  to  the  learned  Professor  that  honour 
which  at  present  is  bestowed  upon  him  only  by  some  of  his 
most  zealous  friends;  the  honour,  namely,  of  having  made, 
as  well  as  described,  a  great  number  of  his  fishes  of  the 
Ohio.  It  is  said  to  have  been  the  practice  of  many  valiant 
generals,  to  give  existence,  upon  paper,  to  a  vast  number  of 
the  enemies  whom  they  slew,  and  thereby  reap  the  renown 
of  destroying,  if  not  of  making  them :  and  the  learned  ichthy- 
ologist, who  does  not  seek  the  honour  of  killing  his  fishes, 
ought  not  certainly  to  be  deprived  of  giving  them  all  the 
existence  they  ever  possessed. 

It  is  truly  lamentable  to  observe  the  great  and  increasing 
neglect  of  the  finny  tribes,  by  all  the  people  of  modern 
times;  and  it  is  worthy  of  inquiry,  whether  it  be  not  to 
this  neglect  that  we  are  to  attribute  the  amazing  degenera- 
cy of  fishes  since  the  days  of  the  ancient  philosophers — de- 
generacy both  in  bodily  size  and  intellectual  endowments. 
In  respect  to  the  first  of  these  qualifications,  it  appears  that 
they  acquired  the  highest  degree  of  celebrity  under  the  im- 
perial patronage  of  the  Roman  rulers;  and  to  such  magnifi- 
cent dimensions  did  they  attain,  that  the  Roman  Senate,  as 
history  informs  us,  was  called  upon,  among  other  grave  and 
weighty  deliberations,  to  admire  the  parts  and  proportions 
of  one  that  was  deemed  worthy,  in  consequence  of  its  ex- 
traordinary size  and  beauty,  of  the  Emperor's  table  alone; 
and  therefore  worthy  the  attention  of  that  august  body,  the 
Senate  of  Imperial  Rome.  But  with  respect  to  their  men- 
tal qualities,  they  appear  to  have  arrived  at  their  highest 
point  of  perfection  at  an  earlier  period.  Plutarch  gives  us 
information  of  certain  tribes  of  fishes,  that  were  in  the  habit 
of  displaying  very  profound  knowledge  of  the  mathematical 
sciences,  and  of  the  art  of  perspective;  and  Pliny  and  Aris- 
totle, as  well  as  many  other  ancient  philosophers,  record 
many  instances  of  their  profound  knowledge  in  other 
branches  of  science.  Their  correct  appreciation  of  theolo- 
gical instructions  is  recorded  in  the  history  of  Saint  An- 
thony, whose  preaching 

"  They  thronged  to  hear,  the  legend  tells, 
"  Were  edified,  and  wagged  their  tails." 

But  since  that  period,  since  the  time  when  all  learning  and 
science  were  overshadowed  by  the  gloom  of  the  dark  ages, 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


257 


we  have  little  or  no  evidence  of  their  cultivation  of  any  of 
the  various  branches  of  knowledge.  Even  the  art  of  naviga- 
tion, in  which  they  might  naturally  be  expected  most  to  ex- 
cel, they  appear  to  neglect  far  more  than  is  proper;  for  we 
find  that  the  salmon  do  not  now  visit  many  of  our  rivers, 
(the  Connecticut,  for  instance,)  to  which  they  formerly  re- 
sorted with  great  regularity;  and  the  shad  do  not  display 
that  spirit  of  adventurous  roving  which  we  should  be  glad 
to  see  them  exhibit,  by  paying  annual  visits  to  the  Ohio; 
which,  doubtless,  they  would  do,  if  they  possessed  that  ex- 
tent of  knowledge  and  good  taste  which,  according  to  the 
authors  to  whom  we  have  referred,  characterized  them  in 
ancient  times. 

It  has  lately  been  proposed  by  an  esteemed  and  respecta- 
ble author  in  our  city,  that  some  measures  be  taken  to  in- 
struct certain  tribes  of  fishes  in  such  branches  of  knowledge 
as  would  induce  them  to  emigrate  to  our  western  waters, 
where,  we  have  no  doubt,  they  may  be  as  much  improved 
in  their  circumstances  as  the  emigrants  to  the  western  lands, 
and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  suggestions  of  this  valuable 
author  may  receive  the  attention  they  merit.  It  is  little  to 
the  credit  of  the  citizens  of  the  west,  that  their  attention  is 
exclusively  devoted  to  terrestrial  affairs,  that  the  aquatic 
portions  of  our  country  are  almost  totally  neglected;  and 
instead  of  receiving  a  share  of  attention  equal  to  their 
importance,  have  been  abandoned  to  the  management  of 
those  who  looked  but  little  below  the  surface  of  their  sub- 
ject, and  who  are  ignorant  of  the  habits,  qualities,  and  capa- 
bilities of  the  inhabitants  of  our  western  waters.  No  cares 
have  ever  been  bestowed  upon  them,  tending  to  their  im- 
provement; and  no  system  of  management  has  ever  been 
adopted,  by  which  their  most  valuable  tribes  might  be  en- 
couraged, and  their  numbers  increased.  On  the  contrary, 
many  of  them  have  never  even  received  such  names  as  are 
befitting  fishes;  but  have  been  obliged  to  bear  the  cast-off 
names  of  land  animals,  such  as  buffaloes,  red-horses,  black- 
horses,  cats,  &c.,  names  which  are  totally  unfit,  and,  indeed, 
quite  insulting,  when  applied  to  the  inhabitants  of  our  rivers, 
who  are  as  fairly  entitled  to  names  of  their  own,  as  any  of 
the  quadrupeds  or  bipeds  on  land; — to  names  that  are  ap- 
propriate and  descriptive — suitable  for  fishes  of  respectable 
rivers.  I  trust  that  this  matter  will  receive  the  attention  of 
this  worthy  society,  as  some  other  subjects,  which  very 
justly  claim  our  earliest  care,  and  which  I  am  confident  will 
not  be  neglected,  I  mean  the  attention  of  each  individual  to 
those  personal  qualifications  that  are  necessary  to  qualify 
him  for  excellence  in  the  important  art  of  angling. 

In  a  paragraph  recently  republished  in  our  journals,  from 
an  English  paper,  the  author,  referring  to  the  expected  emi- 
gration of  the  late  king  of  France,  Charles  X.,  to  the  Uni- 
ted States,  suggested  the  idea,  that  he,  and  the  former  king 
3  T 


of  Spain,  who  had  long  been  a  resident  in  this  country,  may 
angle  in  the  same  streams,  &c.,  a  suggestion  which  exhibits 
a  more  correct  appreciation  by  its  author,  of  the  important 
art  of  angling,  than  of  the  character  of  the  person  whom  he 
supposed  might  be  led  to  cultivate  it  in  America;  and  noth- 
ing but  that  blind  devotion  to  kings,  which  leads  men  to 
attribute  to  them  none  but  elevated  sentiments  and  enno- 
bling pursuits,  could  have  inspired  the  idea  that  a  man  of  the 
character  of  Charles  X.  could  take  delight  in  the  sport  of 
angling.  A  man  like  him,  tyrannical,  oppressive,  bigoted, 
and  wrong-headed,  is  of  a  character  the  very  reverse  of  that 
of  a  genuine  angler.  The  kings  of  modern  times,  have,  in- 
deed, none  of  them  those  characteristics  which  would  enti- 
tle them  to  membership  in  the  Cincinnati  Angling  Club: 
and  it  is  therefore  to  be  hoped  that  the  work  of  reform  may 
not  end  in  France,  but  go  on  until  governments  cease  to  be 
oppressive,  and  rulers  possess  t'^at  spirit  of  patient  persever- 
ance in  their  duties  which  characterizes  the  real  angler. 
My  brethren, — kings  have  seldom  been  anglers — they  have 
seldom  possessed  those  high  and  ennobling  qualities  which 
lead  to  a  cultivation  of  this  pursuit,  and  therefore  the  world 
has  no  further  need  of  them.  Especially,  we  want  no  kings 
nor  ex-kings  in  these  United  States.  Prophets  and  Apostles 
have  been  fishers;  but  kings  and  emperors  have  seldom  pos- 
sessed sufficient  good  taste  to  imitate  them:  and  although 
there  is  one  sovereign  in  Europe  who  professes  to  be  their 
successor,  and  still  retains  among  his  insignia  some  fishing 
implements;  yet  the  testimony  of  history  proves  that  Popes 
are  more  like  kings  than  like  Anglers  or  Apostles,  and  are 
therefore  too  degenerate  to  be  of  any  use  in  this  world.  We 
trust  that  also  they  will  be  dismissed,  with  other  useless  in- 
cumbents of  office,  in  order  that  the  dignity  which  should 
belong  to  the  employment  of  a  real  fisherman,  may  not  be 
degraded  by  the  proud  pretensions  of  the  occupants  of  the 
Papal  throne  to  the  character  of  fishers.  For  they  are  men 
who  for  centuries  have  not  practised  nor  encouraged  the 
angler's  art,  and  have  only  honoured  it  by  external  display 
— men  who  differ  little  from  kings  and  other  dignitaries, 
that  despise  or  neglect  those  qualities  in  their  fellow  men 
which  are  most  essential  to  their  health  and  happiness,  and 
who  uphold  and  cherish  the  sickly,  indolent,  and  useless 
portion  of  their  species,  more  than  the  manly,  robust,  and 
useful. 

But  of  kings  and  potentates  we  have  said  enough — more 
than  they  deserve,  since  they  only  serve  as  warnings  to  us, 
to  avoid  the  vices  by  which  their  characters  are  degraded, 
by  which  they  not  only  become  unfitted  for  piscatorial  ex- 
ercises and  duties,  but  are  even,  probably,  rendered  so  efie- 
minate  and  worthless,  as  not  even  to  wish  to  partake  of 
them.  It  is  far  more  pleasant  to  speak  of  men  who  are  en- 
nobled by  the  qualities  of  the  mind  and  heart,  and  not  by 


258 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


the  accidents  of  birth  and  fortune;  men  who  are  superior  to 
any  of  the  dignities  of  public  stations,  and  worthy  to  be 
classed  among  the  examples  for  anglers  to  follow.  Of  these, 
the  good  old  patriarch  of  fishermen,  Izaak  Walton,  to  whose 
name  the  epithet  of  "honest"  is  universally  attached,  as 
comprehending  in  it,  numerous  and  varied  virtues,  will 
most  readily  occur  to  you  all;  and  with  him  will  naturally 
be  associated  in  your  minds,  his  friend  and  disciple,  the 
worthy  Cotton,  the  imitator  of  his  virtues,  and  associate  of 
his  fame.  To  their  characters  the  world  has  learned  to  do 
justice;  and  to  them  it  is  chiefly  indebted  for  the  means  of 
justly  appreciating  the  pursuits  of  the  angler.  Their  names 
and  their  fame  are  familiar  and  dear  to  us  all. 

By  the  death  of  the  celebrated  Sir  Humphrey  Davy,  not 
only  have  the  cultivators  of  the  sciences,  but  the  lovers  of 
angling,  lost  a  friend,  whose  good  taste  and  highly  culti- 
vated mind  induced  him  to  give  that  preference  to  their 
favourite  sport,  to  which  he  is  entitled,  and  led  him  to  value 
his  own  fame  as  an  angler  more  highly  than  the  celebrity 
which  he  acquired  from  all  other  sources;  and  the  last  of 
his  works — those  works  which  have  not  only  immortalized 
his  own  name,  but  added  to  the  glory  of  the  nation  and  the 
age  in  which  he  lived — bears  testimony  to  the  pleasure 
which  he  derived  from,  and  the  esteem  in  which  he  held, 
this  manly  and  honourable  recreation. 

Of  Sannazarious,  Davors,  Chalkhill,  Markham,  Wynkin 
de  Worde,  and  many  other  worthies,  I  regret  that  we  have 
so  few  memorials  preserved  that  we  cannot  make  our  minds 
familiar  with  their  characters.  Their  respect  for  our  art  is, 
however,  a  proof  of  their  merit,  an  assurance  that  their  cha- 
racters were  amiable — and  presumptive  evidence  of  the 
soundness  of  their  minds.  Cut  it  is  unnecessary  to  bring 
forward  any  examples  to  the  members  of  this  club  for  the 
purpose  of  showing  them  what  are  the  virtues  they  ought 
to  cultivate.  You  all  know  that  both  your  tempers  should 
be  smooth  and  uniform — that,  as  your  manners,  so  should 
your  rods  be,  graceful,  and  adapted  to  the  occasion  that  calls 
them  out  into  use — that  your  hooks,  like  your  wits,  should  be 
sharp,  and  carefully  guarded,  that  they  may  not  hurt  either 
yourselves  or  you  friends;  that  your  fishing  tackle  in  gen- 
eral, as  well  as  your  domestic  affairs,  should  always  be  kept 
in  good  order,  and  receive  all  the  attention  which  you  are 
required  by  your  duty  to  pay.  In  short,  that  you  should  ex- 
hibit to  the  community  such  examples  of  the  social  and  civil 
virtues  as  are  befitting  those  who  are  worthy  to  be  mem- 
bers of  this  honourable  club. 
My  brethren. 

Although  the  chief  object  of  our  association  is  to  spend  in 
healthful  and  rational  recreation,  those  hours  of  relaxation 
from  the  toils  and  labours  of  life,  which  the  constitution  of 
our  nature  requires;  yet  our  recreations  are  not  those  which 


abase  or  degrade  the  faculties  of  either  mind  or  body,  but 
on  the  contrary,  they  are  such  as  give  to  each  that  salutary 
exercise  which  is  essential  to  its  preservation  and  improve- 
ment. They  are  such  as  inspire  a  love  of  nature  and  of 
nature's  works — a  keen  susceptibility  to  her  beauties,  and  a 
lively  enjoyment  of  her  varied  bounties.  These  are  the 
legitimate  sources  of  human  pleasures.  They  are  the  plea- 
sures of  the  angler.  For  the  enjoyment  of  such  gratifica- 
tions, he  adjures  the  influence  of  sloth  and  idleness,  as  you 
all  have  done  on  the  present  occasion,  and  goes  forth  as  soon 
as  the  "high  lawns  appear"  "under  the  opening  eyelid  of 
the  morn,"  and  long  before  "  the  star  of  day"  flames  "in 
the  forehead  of  the  morning  sk}',"  enjoying  the  delights  of 
invigorated  health  and  the  anticipations  of  successful  exer- 
tions. The  vigor  of  body,  the  elasticity  of  mind  which  he,de- 
rives  from  early  exercise — the  excitement  of  hope,  the  view 
of  the  beauties  of  nature,  which  he  has  learned  justly  to  ap- 
preciate, and  the  sounds  of  the  varied  "  melodies  of  morn," 
all  combine  to  excite  feelings  of  the  highest  order  of  enjoy- 
ment, feelings  which  tend  to  make  him,  on  his  return  to 
duties  and  his  employments,  a  more  amiable  and  more  use- 
ful man.  For  such  pleasure  and  such  sentiments  as  he  cul- 
tivates, are  not  those  which  excite  the  desire  of  concentrat- 
ing in  self,  all  the  good  things  of  life,  and  all  the  gratifica- 
tions which  are  presented  to  his  view,  but  on  the  contrary, 
their  tendency  is  to  strengthen  and  cherish  tliose  kindly  af- 
fections and  warm  charities  which  constitute  all  the  value 
of  social  life, — without  which,  existence  would  be  a  burthen, 
and  reason  a  curse. 

The  influence  of  our  mode  of  recreation  on  the  temper 
and  feelings,  is  healthful  and  benignant,  softening  their 
asperities  and  correcting  their  deformities — exciting  none 
but  benevolent  wishes  to  our  neighbours,  and  general  phi- 
lanthropy to  mankind.  Scandal,  backbiting,  all  manner  of 
evil  speaking,  with  all  the  diseases  of  querulous  idleness, 
are  therefore  incompatible  ^vith  the  characters  of  those  who 
are  worthy  of  the  honourable  certificate  of  membership  in 
the  Cincinnati  Angling  Club,  and  any  appearance  of  a  dis- 
position to  indulge  these  vices,  should  be  considered  as 
indicative  of  a  diseased  state  of  body  and  mind,  which 
ought  to  call  forth  renewed  exertions  and  unceasing  vigi- 
lance, for  its  entire  eradication. 

It  has  been  very  correctly  remarked,  that  men  are  civi- 
lized by  their  amusements  far  more  than  by  their  serious 
occupations,  and  these  vices  of  which  I  have  just  spoken, 
are  among  the  strongest  marks  of  defective  civilization. 
They  will,  therefore,  doubtless,  be  excluded  from  this  so- 
ciety, and  considered  as  decided  proof  of  unworthiness  of 
its  honours,  and  incapacity  to  partake  in  a  suitable  manner 
of  its  enjoyments. 

The  pleasures  of  the  social  board,  of  which  we  have  now 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


been  partaking,  are  also  legitimate  and  salutary  enjoyments, 
when,  as  in  the  present  case,  we  are  prepared  for  them  by 
exercise,  and  partake  of  them  with  temperance.  The  gra- 
tification afforded  by  assembling,  as  we  now  do,  to  celebrate 
our  annual  festival,  is  briglitened  by  the  considerations  that 
the  delicacies  of  the  table  which  have  formed  the  principal 
portion  of  our  repast,  were  obtained  by  our  immediate  exer- 
tions— were  the  fruits  of  the  recent  display  of  our  skill, 
and  we  are  taught  by  the  additional  satisfaction  thus  afiorded 
us,  how  important  it  is  to  the  full  and  perfect  enjoyment  of 
any  of  the  good  things  of  this  life,  to  possess  a  consciousness 
that  they  have  been  acquired  by  our  own  labours.  With- 
out this  feeling,  every  pleasure  is  imperfect;  is  insipid; 
with  it,  scarcely  any  thing  is  too  insignificant  to  increase 
the  sum  of  our  happiness,  and  awaken  those  emotions  which 
give  a  zest  to  all  the  enjoyments  of  life. 


GROUSE  SHOOTING. 

Messrs.  Editors: 

I  have  read,  with  exceeding  great  pleasure,  several  in- 
teresting accounts  of  successful  sporting  in  your  Cabinet  of 
Natural  History  and  American  Rural  Sports.  I  am  ex- 
tremely fond  of  field  sports,  and  consider  it  an  obligation 
on  every  fair  sportsman  to  contribute  to  a  meritorious  work 
like  yours,  such  facts  or  incidents,  as  may  be  the  result  of 
his  own  experience  or  observation,  during  his  hunting  ex- 
cursions. 

Under  this  impression,  I  shall  offer  for  your  insertion,  a 
brief  and  unvarnished  account  of  a  few  days  Grouse  shoot- 
ing which  I  had  this  autumn,  in  company  with  my  valued 
friend  and  keen  sportsman,  Mr.  E.  P.  of  this  city.  We 
left  New  York  on  the  14th  of  October;  our  destination  was 
a  certain  district  in  the  honest  and  hospitable  State  of  Penn- 
sylvania; the  particular  locality,  not  being  material  to  the 
plot  of  my  story,  is  not  necessary  to  mention.  After  a  plea- 
sant, but  very  rapid  journe}-,  we  arrived  on  the  ground  on 
the  16th.  I  took  no  notes  of  things  by  the  way,  because 
my  mind  and  its  thoughts  were  so  fully  occupied  with  anti- 
cipations of  success.  On  our  arrival,  we  made  inquiries 
respecting  the  objects  of  our  long  journeying,  the  beautiful, 
the  inimitable  Grouse!  and  we  were  informed  that  some 
had  been  occasionally  seen  in  the  vicinity,  but  that  (as  we 
well  knew  before)  it  required  almost  a  native  to  find  or  kill 
them.  However,  like  most  sportsmen,  we  possessed  con- 
ceit enough  to  believe  ourselves  competent  for  the  enter- 
prise we  were  about  to  undertake,  and  after  inquiring  whe- 
ther a  suitable  person  as  a  guide  could  be  obtained,  we  were 
directed  to  a  man  who  was  perfectly  acquainted  with  the 


country;  and  him,  therefore,  we  accordingly  engaged  for 
the  purpose,  and  employed  his  services  during  the  time  we 
remained.  And,  indeed,  without  giving  a  minute  descrip- 
tion of  the  man,  to  sum  up  all  in  one  all-inclusive  appella- 
tion, our  guide  proved  himself  to  be  a  perfect  "Leather 
Stocking;"  keen  eye,  steady  hand,  natural  integrity,  and 
standing  six  feet  two,  without  his  leggins. 

Having  thus  arranged  matters  for  the  coming  dawn,  and 
partaken  of  a  sportsman's  supper  with  an  appetite  which 
needed  no  coaxing,  which,  with  puffing  away  time  with 
the  fragrant  smoke  of  the  soothing  segar,  and  listening  to 
marvellous  tales  of  hunting  and  fishing,  we  passed  away  the 
hours  pleasantly  enough,  until  the  last  candle  in  the  house 
was  nearly  burnt  out,  and  the  buxom  old  landlady  sat  bob- 
bing for  next  morning,  as  an  Indian  would  at  gnats. 

The  next  morning  broke  forth  in  that  enchanting  splen- 
dour, which  so  particularly  characterises  one  of  our  autumnal 
days.  The  mellow  light,  softening  every  object  that  it 
touched,  rested  upon  the  interminable  forests  and  gilded  the 
mountain  sides,  tinged  as  they  were  with  every  variety  of 
magnificent  colours. 

Our  honest  guide  was  at  the  door;  we  were  equipped, 
and  all  impatience  to  touch  the  feathers  of  the  king  of  our 
American  feathered  game.  We  sallied  forth  into  the  oak- 
crowned  hills,  with  our  two  setter  dogs,  ]\Iack  and  Dash,  and 
by  an  early  hour  in  the  afternoon  we  bagged  five  brace  of 
heavy  Grouse.  The  weather  proving  warmer  than  we  anti- 
cipated, we  decided,  after  the  most  sober  consultation,  not 
to  go  out  the  next  day,  fearing  that  if  we  killed  more  they 
would  spoil.  We,  therefore,  contented  ourselves  by  going 
a  trouting,  our  guide  having  awakened  our  curiosity  by 
offering  to  exhibit  his  method  of  taking  that  shy  fish.  I 
consider  it  advisable  not  to  describe  this  novel  plan,  because 
it  is  contrary  to  the  rules  of  true  sport,  and  the  fish  are 
taken  by  it  so  rapidly,  and  in  such  quantities,  that,  if  gene- 
rally adopted,  it  would  tend  to  exterminate  the  species. 
After  he  had  taken  about  a  dozen  Trout  in  a  very  few  mi- 
nutes, we  prevailed  upon  him  to  desist  from  his  unsports- 
manlike poaching.  As  there  were  some  wood  ducks  in 
the  vicinity,  I  tried,  at  our  guide's  suggestion,  for  that 
beautiful  bird  with  his  long  gun.  And  here  I  would  re- 
mark, that  those  Pennsylvania  Highlanders  never  turn  out 
of  doors  without  these  long  guns,  which,  by  much  expe- 
rience, they  well  know  how  to  use.  We  started  but  two 
Ducks;  one,  a  fine  Wood  Duck,  I  killed  while  passing  by 
a  still  and  lonely  pond,  among  the  silent  woods,  which  is 
ever  a  favourite  haunt  of  that  timid  bird.  Our  guide  killed 
the  other,  which  he  called  a  White-belly,  of  a  very  fair 
kind.     In  this  manner,  we  spent  our  second  day. 

The  ensuing  morning  we  started  again  for  the  scrub-oaks, 
and  had  excellent  sport.     We  bagged  eight  brace  more  of 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAI   HISTORY 


fine  Grouse,  and,  from  appearances  this  day,  we  had  reason 
to  calculate  upon  a  continuation  of  success  on  the  morrow. 
We  were  not  disappointed,  for  by  ten  o'clock  the  next 
morning,  we  had  secured  three  brace  more;  but  the  sun 
coming  out  very  warm,  or,  as  our  worthy  guide  remarked, 
"  rather  hottish,"  we  concluded  to  start  for  New  York,  in 
order  that  we  might  carry  our  birds  home  in  good  order. 
We  arrived  in  our  fair  city  on  the  22d,  highly  gratified 
with  our  excursion,  and  had  the  pleasure  of  surprising  our 
sporting  friends,  with  rather  an  uncommon  show  of  prime 
game.  J.  S. 

New  York,  Nov.  10,  1831. 


HABITS  OF  THE  RUFFED  GROUSE,  OR  PHEASANT. 

(Tetrao  umbellus.) 

On  reading  the  anecdote  of  Professor  Green  in  your  in- 
teresting work  some  time  since,  on  the  stupidity  of  this 
bird,  it  brought  strongly  to  my  recollection  the  fact  of 
having  seen  a  fine  male  of  the  species,  confined  in  a  wooden 
cage,  in  the  possession  of  Isaac  Deniston,  Esq.,  of  this  city, 
which  had  been  taken  a  few  days  previous  under  circum- 
stances very  similar.  This  was  in  the  fall  of  1814,  it  was 
discovered  early  in  the  morning  seated  in  the  piazza  near 
the  door  of  that  gentleman's  dwelling,  and  without  difliculty 
made  captive.  This  bird  was  kept  about  one  week  and 
then  presented  to  a  friend  residing  in  Greenbush,  opposite 
the  city,  here  it  remained  about  the  same  length  of  time, 
when  by  some  accident  it  perished. 

In  conversing  on  the  subject,  a  few  days  since,  with  a 
friend  of  mine  in  this  city,  a  genuine  sportsman  and  an  ac- 
curate observer  of  every  thing  appertaining  to  the  sports  of 
the  field,  he  informed  me  that,  about  three  years  since, 
in  the  fall  of  the  year,  being  on  a  shooting  excursion  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Claverack,  Columbia  countj^.  New  York, 
he  obtained  a  fine  living  specimen  of  this  bird,  from  a  gen- 
tleman residing  at  that  place,  who  stated  to  him,  that  it  had 
been  captured  a  day  or  two  previous  by  one  of  his  domes- 
tics, in  the  cellar-way  of  his  dwelling.  This  was  brought 
with  him  to  the  city;  in  a  few  days  it  began  to  droop,  and 
died  in  the  space  of  a  week  of  its  confinement.  In  both  of 
these  eases,  the  individuals  who  captured  them  were  of 
opinion,  they  had  been  frightened  by  a  hawk  or  some  other 
bird  of  prey. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  a  severe  cold  day  in  the  winter, 
about  fifteen  years  since,  I  saw  a  number  of  lads  pelting  with 
frozen  flakes  of  snow  some  object  which  had  taken  its  sta- 
tion on  the  roof  of  a  one  story  dwelling,  situated  in  the  old- 


est and  most  populous  part  of  our  city.  On  observing  it 
attentively,  I  discovered  it  to  be  a  Rufied  Grouse;  it  sat  near 
the  chimney,  as  if  dozing,  apparently  unconscious  of  the 
many  missiles  which  flew  in  every  direction  about  it;  one 
at  length  struck  it  lightly  on  the  wing,  it  stretched  forth  its 
neck  a  moment,  as  if  for  recollection — shook  its  plumage — 
glid  silently  over  the  house,  and  disappeared  from  my  sight. 

The  winter  was  remarkably  severe.  A  large  quantity  of 
snow  had  fallen,  and  entirely  covered  the  ground  for  an 
unusual  space  of  time;  when  the  spring  returned  and  nat  .re 
had  once  more  put  forth  her  bloom,  the  farmers  in  the 
vicinity  were  astonished  at  discovering  a  considerable  num- 
ber of  the  bones  and  partially  decayed  carcases  of  this  spe- 
cies of  Grouse,  strewed  along  the  hedges,  and  in  the  deep 
woods  in  the  neighbourhood  of  their  dwellings.*  This 
mortality  they  attributed  to  their  usual  food  being  buried 
too  deep  beneath  the  snow  for  them  to  obtain  access  to,  con- 
sequently, they  perished  from  hunger.  On  learning  this 
fact,  during  the  following  summer,  and  hearing  it  repeatedly 
since  that  time,  I  naturally  concluded  that  this  bird  had 
been  compelled  to  seek  among  the  habitations  of  man,  the 
food  necessary  for  its  existence,  which  nature  had  denied  it 
elsewhere.  I  have  now  no  doubt  but  its  appearance  in  the 
city,  was  more  properly  occasioned  by  the  annoyance  of 
some  bird  of  prey. 

Yours,  &c. 

JAMES  EIGHTS. 

Mbany,  Nov.  \,  1831. 


BASS  FISHING  IN  THE  WEST. 

Messrs.  Editors: 

There  is  an  excellent  essay  on  the  "Usefulness  of  Sport- 
ing," in  your  first  number,  under  the  signature  of  "J.  T. 
S."  in  which  I  agree  most  cordially  with  the  writer,  except 
where  he  stiles  Angling  a  "mild,  subdued,  snA  feminine 
exercise."  It  may  be  so  in  the  East,  but  here,  in  the  West, 
it  is  altogether  a  different  business. 

Who,  in  the  vicinity  of  our  "great  Western  Emporium," 
has  not  heard  of  the  "Cincinnati  Angling  Club,"  and  its 
exploits  among  the  "finny  tribe?"  None,  I  will  venture 
to  say,  can  follow  a  party  from  this  Club  on  a  fishing  ex- 
cursion, for  a  single  day,  without  feeling  the  intense  excite- 
ment created  in  the  members  by  the  delightful  and  manly 
exercise  of  "Bass  Fishing,"  and  entering  fully  into  the 
enjoyment  of  a  sport,  which  is  every  thing  but  "femi- 
nine." 


Thia  I  have  recently  understood  was  also  the  case  la-st  spring. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


261 


As  you  have  never  partaken  of  a  clay's  sport  with  the 
Club,  I  will  give  you  a  brief  sketch  of  their  usual  excur- 
sions. 

Some  four  or  five  of  the  members,  as  leisure  or  conve- 
nience permits,  (for  they  never  suffer  this  amusement  to 
interfere  with  business  avocations,)  select,  with  the  best 
skill,  a  good  day,  and  an  early  hour  is  fixed  for  starting 
on  the  day  chosen,  say  3  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Precisely 
at  the  time  and  place  appointed,  (for  it  is  made  a  point  of 
honour  to  be  punctual)  the  members  assemble,  "  furnished 
and  equipped"  as  their  by-laws  direct,  and  set  out  in  their 
fishing  dearborns,  for  the  great  Miami,  about  sixteen 
miles  distant.  After  a  "Jehu-like"  drive  of  three  or  four 
hours,  in  the  greatest  glee,  they  arrive  at  the  fishing 
grounds,  and  prepare  for  the  day's  sport. 

In  the  first  place,  the  minnow  bait  must  be  caught;  a 
net  is  produced;  two  of  the  members  bounce  into  the  water 
up  to  the  middle,  and  soon  procure  bait  enough  for  the 
whole  party,  of  the  "real  shiners"  and  "leather-mouths." 
Then,  about  sun  rise,  the  fishing  commences.  The  place 
selected  for  Bass  is  generally  in  the  swift  water  under  mill 
dams,  or  in  deep  rocky  holes  near  them.  The  angler  wades 
into  the  water,  or  sits  on  a  rock  or  log,  (the  first  is  gene- 
rally preferred,  for  no  "real  Bass  Angler"  feels  like  fish- 
ing, unless  wet  to  the  waist-band.)  There  is  great  emula- 
tion to  take  the  first  fish,  it  being  considered  a  good 
omen.  The  sport  commenced,  the  party  continue  with 
untiring  patience  until  about  10  o'clock,  when  they  par- 
take of  a  frugal  breakfast  of  bread  and  ham,  or  something 
in  that  way,  moistened  with  a  little  good  wine,  for  ..'hich 
all  good  anglers  have  a  relish.  The  meal  partaken  with 
cheerfulness,  and  an  appetite  which  active  exercise  never 
fails  to  create,  is  enlivened  by  a  recital  of  the  exploits  of 
the  morning,  which,  with  good  luck,  may  amount  to  twen- 
ty or  thirty  fish. 

The  sport  is  resumed  with  redoubled  energy,  until  three, 
o'clock  when  the  party  dine,  much  in  the  same  manner  as 
they  breakfast.  About  five  in  the  afternoon,  after  putting 
on  dog-cloths,  they  start  for  home,  and  arrive  near  nine, 
with  generally  one  hundred  to  one  hundred  and  eighty  fine 
Bass,  weighing  each  from  an  half  to  three  pounds,  the  great- 
est number  of  middle  size,  having  travelled  upwards  of 
thirty  miles,  and  fished  faithfully  for  nine  or  ten  hours. 
Now,  if  there  is  any  thing  "feminine"  in  all  this,  I  have 
mistaken  the  term. 

Some  of  the  members  take  excursions  of  two  or  three 
days  at  a  time,  and  lodge  in  the  neighbouring  farm  houses 
at  night,  or  encamp  on  the  banks  of  the  river,  as  the  hardy 
"  hunters  of  the  West"  have  often  done  before  them.  Surely 
this  is  not  "feminine." 

The  Bass  is  a  beautiful  fish,  with  its  dark  olive  back  and 
3U 


golden  sides;  none,  for  the  table,  can  be  more  delicious.  It 
bites  readily  at  the  minnow  bait,  and  is  considered  by 
"  the  fancy'"  to  be  an  "exceeding  ^g-awze  fish,"  frequently 
springing  two  or  three  feet  out  of  the  water  when  hooked, 
and  affording  the  most  delightful  sport  to  the  angler.  He 
who  is  fortunate  enough  to  hook  a  four  or  five  pound  Bass, 
has  to  exert  his  utmost  skill  to  secure  the  fish  and  save  his 
tackle  from  destruction.  It  runs  off  with  the  line  like  a 
young  whale,  and  without  the  reel,  it  would  be  im- 
possible for  the  angler  to  tire  his  fish  sufficiently  to 
land  him.  But  when  he  is  taken,  what  rejoicing  it 
excites  in  the  Club,  and  with  what  pleasure  does  the  secre- 
tary record,  "a  five  pound  Bass  landed  by  President  H.  or 
Counsellor  G.  after  a  most  arduous  though  skilful  and  inter- 
esting struggle  of  thirty-five  and  an  half  minutes." 

Our  principal  and  best  fishing  is  in  the  fall  season, 
after  the  first  early  frosts,  and  during  the  Indian  sum- 
mer, that  pride  and  boast  of  our  western  autumns;  then 
it  is  indeed  a  delightful  and  healthy  recreation. 

A  complete  record  of  the  proceedings  of  the  Club  is  kept, 
and  the  taste  for  angling,  which  is  continually  increasing 
among  the  members,  together  with  the  strictest  propriety 
of  conduct,  which,  even  without  their  rules,  would  always 
be  observed,  give  promise  that  this  association  will  endure 
with  the  lives  of  the  members,  and  be  continued  by  their 
descendants  for  ages,  while  the  Bass  inhabit  the  waters,  or 
a  taste  for  angling  is  cherished. 

PISCATOR. 


NEWLY  INVENTED  RIFLE. 

This  Rifle  was  invented,  and  a  patent  taken  out  for  the 
same,  in  the  year  1829,  by  Mr.  J.  Millar  of  Rochester,  N. 
Y.  The  patentee,  who  is  not  a  Rifle  manufacturer  by  trade, 
(but  has  adopted  it  as  his  business  only  within  a  short 
period,  and  has  now  in  his  employ,  several  excellent  work- 
men,) is  an  experienced  hunter,  and  his  experience  fre- 
quently pointed  out  to  him,  the  necessity  of  an  improve- 
ment in  the  common  Rifle,  in  order  to  be  more  successful 
after  game;  consequently,  this  laid  the  foundation  of  the 
improvement,  or  invention  of  the  gun  of  which  we  are  now 
about  to  speak.  This  Rifle,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
inventor,  is  designated  by  the  name  of  the  "  Seven  Shot 
Rifle,"  and  differs  from  the  ordinary  gun,  by  having  a  re- 
volving breech,  capable  of  containing  seven  distinct  charges, 
and  which  by  touching  a  small  spring,  revolves  successively 
as  the  gun  is  discharged,  until  the  whole  are  fired  ofi". 

As  each  chamber  in  the  breech  is  of  the  exact  bore  of  the 
calibre  of  the  gun,  and  is  brought  in  the  revolution  with 


262 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


a  direct  line  of  the  barrel,  it  can  be  discharged  with  aston- 
ishing rapidity,  and  with  the  same  precision  and  effect  as 
the  most  perfect  among  the  ordinary  Rifles. 

As  I  felt  much  interest  in  this  newly  invented  gun,  the 
proprietor  took  some  pains  to  test  its  correctness  and  utility 
on  several  occasions,  in  my  presence,  and  the  result  was  of 
the  most  satisfactory  kind,  and  which  I  firmly  believe,  will 
in  a  great  measure  supplant  the  common  gun,  especially  for 
the  purposes  of  war,  and  hunting  large  game.  The  de- 
mand, however,  for  the  present,  is  greater  than  the  means 
of  supply,  but  as  the  manufacturer  has  it  in  contemplation 
to  enlarge  his  establishment,  he  will  be  able  to  supply  any 
orders  which  may  be  sent  to  him. 

The  price  varies  from  45  to  100 dollars  each;  as  however, 
a  more  perfect  account  of  it  is  contained  in  his  "patent,"  I 
have  selected  that  part  of  it,  on  which  his  right  is  founded, 
that  alone  differing  from  the  common  Rifle. 

"  The  fundamental  principles,  or  what  may  be  termed  the 
basis  of  this  machine,  and  that  which  constitutes  the  skele- 
ton and  main  support  of  this  invention,  is  a  circular  piece 
about  five  eighths  of  an  inch  thick,  with  an  axle  made  of  one 
solid  piece;  on  this  axle  a  cylindrical  magazine  is  made  to  re- 
volve, and  is  closely  fitted  to  the  face  of  this  circular  piece,  this 
circular  piece  forms  a  cap  to  the  magazine;  in  the  face  of  this 
cap  there  is  a  recess  of  sufficient  dcptli  to  admit  a  piece  of  deer 
skin  or  spunge,  which  serves  to  lubricate  the  joint  with  oil, 
which  is  kept  close  to  an  air  tight  joint,  by  a  strong  nut 
and  screw,  on  the  hinder  end  of  the  axle.  There  is  an 
clongatinn  of  this  axle,  which  passes  into  the  breech  and  is 
fastened  by  a  screw  pin  passing  through  it,  into  the  lower 
part  of  the  break  off  piece;  this  break  off  piece  extends  over 
the  magazine  on  top,  about  a  half  inch  wide,  and  one  six- 
teenth of  an  inch  thick,  and  terminating  in  a  crotch,  and  is 
let  into  the  edge  of  the  cap  or  flange,  which  projects  in  form 
of  a  fillet  beyond  the  magazine,  and  is  fastened  by  two 
screws;  this  piece  gives  additional  strength  and  stability  to 
the  breech.  Between  the  centre  and  the  periphery  of  this 
cap  or  flange,  the  main  barrel  is  inserted  so  as  to  form  a  line 
with  the  top  of  the  magazine,  and  corresponds  with  the  ca- 
libre of  the  magazine  in  its  operations,  this  operation  is  ad- 
justed by  a  spring  and  catch  fixed  in  the  lower  edge  of  the 
cap  and  juts  into  gains  cut  in  the  edge  of  the  magazine,  and 
is  easily  relieved  by  the  finger,  while  the  revolving  cham- 
bers turn  backward  or  forward  at  pleasure.  This  magazine 
contains  seven  distinct  chambers  of  suflicient  depth  for  a 
full  charge,  independent  of  each  other.  The  loading  of 
these  may  be  performed  through  the  main  barrel  or  through 
the  cap,  as  fancy  dictates.  These  seven  chambers,  when  load- 
ed and  primed,  may  be  discharged  distinctly  in  twenty 
seconds.  In  the  arrangement  of  this  gun,  there  is  safety 
and  certainty  in  its  operations. 


"  The  lock  adapted  to  this  kind  of  fire  arms,  is  of  the  per- 
cussion kind,  and  where  the  percussion  pin  strikes  the  mag- 
azine, the  fuse  hole  is  drilled  a  little  obliquely  so  as  to 
meet  the  calibre. 

"  The  improvements  relied  on  in  this  machine,  consists  in 
the  simplicity  of  its  construction,  and  everyway  adapted  to 
hunting  and  war  purposes."  J.  D. 


DICK  LINGER'S  ATTEMPT  AT  A  STEEPLE  CHASE. 

My  schoolfellow,  Dick  Linger,  wgs  never  ready  for  any 
thing  but  his  dinner:  I  sa)'  his  dinner,  for  he  was  always 
too  late  for  every  body's  else.  He  was  a  loiterer  from  his 
very  birth,  for  he  came  sauntering  into  the  world  on  the  day 
on  which  his  youngest  brother  had  completed  his  fifteenth 
year.  He  was,  of  course,  his  mother's  pet  and  his  father's 
darling,  and,  by  consequence,  the  plague  of  the  whole 
house.  At  school  he  obtained  the  soubriquet  of  Dilatory 
Dick:  he  was  last  up  in  the  morning,  and,  at  night,  every 
boy  in  his  room  was  in  bed,  and  the  candle  put  out,  before 
Dick  had  divested  himself  of  half  his  clothes;  and  many  a 
time  has  he  awakened  his  bed-fellow  from  his  first  sleep  by 
driving  his  toe  into  his  eye,  or  doing  him  in  the  dark,  as 
the  law  hath  it,  some  other  grievous  bodily  harm.  At 
cricket  he  was  usually  bowled  out  by  the  second  or  third 
ball,  for  he  never  struck  at  it  till  it  had  passed  him;  and, 
when  it  was  his  turn  to  look  out,  he  walked  after  it  as  if  he 
had  been  following  a  funeral  or  going  to  be  whipped.  Nay, 
he  was  behind-hand  even  in  mischief;  for,  if  any  expedi- 
tion against  a  neighbouring  orchard  was  undertaken,  Dick 
usually  contrived  to  arrive  just  in  time  to  be  seized  b}'  the 
proprietor  and  handed  over  to  condign  punishment,  while 
his  companions  ran  off  with  the  booty.  From  his  procras- 
tinating habits,  as  well  as  from  the  circumstance  of  his  being 
so  frequently  flogged  for  the  delinquencies  of  others,  he  was 
facetiously  termed  the  fail  of  the  school.  On  one  occasion, 
I  remember,  on  which  lie  had  contrived  to  introduce  him- 
self to  the  mill-pond,  he  remained  such  a  tediously  long 
time  under  water,  that,  if  one  of  his  comrades  had  not  gone 
down  after  him,  I  verily  believe  he  would  never  have  come 
up  at  all. 

He  would,  doubtless,  have  been  a  scholar  of  no  mean  ac- 
quirements had  he  remained  a  sufficient  time  at  his  studies; 
but  happening  to  be  taken  from  school  at  eighteen,  the  poor 
fellow  had  no  chance.  I  remember  that,  although  we 
started  in  the  classics  together,  and  I  was  no  fire-eater,  I 
was  construing  Horace  while  he  was  wearing  out  his  second 
Corderius,  and  conjugating  "amo"  with  infinitely  more 
complacency  than  success.      His  attempts  at  conjugation  in 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


arter-life  were  equally  unfortunate,  since  he  lost  an  opportu- 
nity of  getting  a  rich  wife,  because,  although  he  made  three 
several  attempts  on  as  many  days,  he  could  never  manage 
to  get  to  church  within  canonical  hours. 

Luckily,  however,  for  Richard,  as  he  was  the  last  of  his 
family  in  coming  into  the  world,  he  contrived  to  be  the  last 
to  go  out  of  it,  and  consequently  succeeded  to  the  property 
of  those  of  his  brothers  and  sisters  who  had  not  resorted  to 
matrimony  as  a  mode  of  relieving  the  monotony  of  life;  and 
tiius  it  happened,  that,  while  he  was  deliberating  upon 
which  of  the  professions  he  should  adorn,  he  was  saved  the 
trouble  of  farther  debate  by  being  placed  in  easy  circum- 
stances for  life.  Never  was  any  man  more  rejoiced  at  being 
left  to  follow  the  bent  of  his  own  inclination;  which,  how- 
ever, he  did  as  he  performed  every  thing  else,  quite  at  his 
leisure.  He  was  fond  of  hunting,  and  subscribed  to  a  pack 
of  excellent  fox-hounds,  but  he  could  never  contrive  to  be 
at  the  place  of  meeting  in  time  to  see  them  throw  off;  so 
that,  after  an  hour's  hard  riding,  he  usually  met  them  on 
their  return  to  kennel. 

In  a  moment  of  extraordinary  excitement,  Richard  was 
induced  to  ride  a  steeple  chase — not  for  the  sake  of  the 
wager,  for  he  would  not  have  ridden  a  third  of  the  distance 
for  thrice  the  money,  but  simply  for  the  gratification  of  the 
whim  of  the  moment.  The  idea  of  Dick's  riding  a  race  of 
any  kind  was  so  utterly  preposterous  that  it  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  whole  country,  and  innumerable  were  the 
bets  to  which  it  gave  rise;  since,  although  there  were  many 
who  were  ready  to  lay  upon  the  acknowledged  excellence  of 
Richard's  horse,  there  were  quite  as  many  who  would  have 
staked  their  fortunes  upon  the  dilatoriness  of  the  rider;  and 
among  the  latter  were  his  two  opponents,  who  it  was  sus- 
pected had  engaged  to  siiare  the  profit  or  loss  of  the  adven- 
ture. They  had  cunningly  covenanted  that  they  should  start 
at  a  particular  hour,  and  that  they  should  not  wait  for  each 
other's  arrival.  The  event  justified  their  prudence  in 
making  this  proviso,  for  Richard  appeared  at  the  starting- 
post  just  two  minutes  after  his  antagonists  had  quitted  it, 
puffing  away,  not  from  want  of  breath,  but  by  reason  of  a 
cigar.  "Good  morning  to  you.  Gentlemen,"  said  Richard 
to  a  host  of  persons  who  had  gathered  about  the  spot,  as  he 
quietly  dismounted  and  began  to  tighten  his  saddle-girths;, 
while  his  horse,  deeming  them  tight  enough  before,  showed 
its  sense  of  Dick's  oiBciousness  by  a  smart  bite,  which,  if  it 
had  included  cuticle  as  well  as  broad  cloth,  might  have  ma- 
terially interfered  with  the  comfort  of  his  ride. 

"Make  haste,  my  good  fellow,  or  you'll  lose  the  race," 
exclaimed  a  by-stander,  who,  having  staked  a  round  sum 
upon  Richard's  horse,  was  almost  frantic  at  beholding  the 
owner's  imperturbable  deliberation. 


"Wait  while  I  light  another  cigar,"  responded  Dick,  igni- 
ting a  piece  of  German  tinder,  which  he  began  to  blow  with 
great  energy,  and  looking  upon  the  anxious  faces  around 
him  with  the  greatest  complacency  imaginable.  When, 
however,  he  got  into  the  saddle,  he  appeared  determined  on 
making  up  for  lost  time,  and  set  off  in  good  earnest.  He 
was  an  excellent  horseman,  and  a  bold  one;  but  two  minutes 
in  a  race,  like  an  inch  in  a  man's  nose,  are  no  trifle.  His 
horse,  though,  was  a  regular  fencer;  and,  in  the  course  of 
the  next  five  minutes,  cleared  three  quickset  hedges,  a 
market  woman,  and  a  gipsy's  donkey,  and  Dick  was  evi- 
dently gaining  ground  upon  his  precursors.  But  he  was 
destined  never  to  be  before-hand  in  anything.  There  stood 
the  steeple,  within  half-a-mile  of  him,  and,  midway  be- 
tween, a  rising  ground  which  his  rivals  were  just  mounting, 
and  soon  disappeared  behind  it.  Dick  put  spurs  to  his  horse, 
and  arrived  on  the  summit  of  the  hillock  just  in  time  to 
catch  a  glimpse  of  the  foremost  equestrian,  who  was  show- 
ing him  a  "clean  pair  of  heels,"  the  only  visible  part  of 
him;  and  they,  as  in  duty  bound,  were  following  his  head 
and  shoulders  to  the  bottom  of  a  deep  and  rapid  river,  of 
which  the  party  in  advance  either  were  previously  ignorant, 
or,  like  others  who  have  taken  the  shadow  for  the  substance, 
were  mis-led  by  the  reflection  of  the  desired  steeple  in  the 
water,  and  determined  to  arrive  at  the  gaol  per  snltum. 
While  Richard,  who  was  somewhat  slow  in  comprehending 
matters,  was  wondering  at  the  extraordinary  feat,  his  eye 
glanced  towards  his  other  antagonist,  who  was  practically 
explaining  to  him  the  mode  in  which  it  had  been  accom- 
plished, by  sliding  over  the  nose  of  his  horse  in  the  same 
antipodean  fashion.  Dick,  however,  who  had  already  suf- 
fered from  his  proximity  to  his  horse's  nose,  pursued  an 
opposite  course,  and  pulling  the  animal  up — that  is,  perpen- 
dicularly upon  his  hind  legs — he  slid  over  its  tail,  after  his 
old  habits  of  being  always  behind,  and  thus  regained  terra 
firma. 

Richard,  who  was  a  good-natured  fellow,  and  had  no  no- 
tion of  his  opponents  stopping  short  in  the  church-j'ard  on 
their  way  to  the  steeple,  hastily  tied  his  horse  to  a  tree,  and 
proceeded  to  angle  for  them  with  the  thong  of  his  hunting- 
whip:  but  not  succeeding  in  getting  a  bite,  he  tried  the  hook 
at  the  butt-end,  and,  at  length  fished  them  both  out.  Their 
horses  had  taken  care  of  themselves,  and  were  quietly 
grazing  in  a  meadow  on  the  opposite  bank.  Dick,  like  a 
good  fellow  as  he  was,  stuck  both  his  friends  upon  the  back 
of  his  own  nag,  and  led  them  to  the  nearest  inn,  where  he 
left  them  with  thirteen  blankets  on  the  outside  of  their 
bodies,  and  two  stiff  glasses  of  brandy  and  water  within. 
Our  hero,  having  previously  fortified  himself  with  a  beef- 
steak and  a  tankard  of  home-brewed,  walked  over  the  rest 


264  THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 

of  the  course,  at  his  leisure,  in  the  cool  of  the  evening,  infi-     solutions  were  submitted  by  Mr.   Samuel  Cornell,  which, 
nitely  less  gratified  at  winning  his  wager,  than  at  the  power     after  a  brief  discussion,  were  unanimously  adopted. 


he  possessed  of  quoting  one  instance  at  least  of  the  advan- 
tages of  being  behind-hand. 

Lon.  Sport.  Mag. 


PRESERVATION  OF  THE  QUAIL  OR  PARTRIDGE. 

We  are  exceedingly  gratified  at  the  interest  that  prevails, 
in  various  sections  of  our  country,  to  preserve  that  interest- 
ing, half  domesticated  bird,  the  Partridge;  persons  who, 
heretofore,  cared  but  little  for  these  birds,  seem  now  to  take 
so  deep  a  concern  in  their  protection,  as  to  induce  us  to  be- 
lieve that  one  year  more  will,  in  a  great  measure,  repair  the 
devastating  effects  of  the  past  inclement  winter. 

We  have  heard,  from  well  autlienticated  sources,  that 
many  farmers  have  concluded  to  entrap  all  the  Partridges 
on  their  respective  places,  and  keep  them  until  next  spring, 
then  to  be  turned  out  again  for  propagation. 

Some  of  the  New  York  sportsmen,  with  a  zeal,  worthy 
of  great  commendation,  are  making  arrangements,  on  an 
extensive  scale,  to  purchase,  and  provide  for  during  the 
present  winter — three  thousand  Partridges — and  as  we 


Resolved,  That  in  the  opinion  of  this  meeting,  there  are 
at  present  no  more  Partridges  in  this  neighbourhood  than 
are  necessary  for  procreation. 

Eesolved,  That  we  will  neither  shoot,  ensnare,  or  in  any 
manner  kill  any  Partridges  during  the  present  season,  and 
that  we  will  use  all  proper  means  for  their  protection  during 
the  approaching  winter. 

Eesolved,  That  we  will  rigidly  enforce  the  law  against 
every  person  who  may  be  guilty  of  shooting  any  Partridges 
on  our  property  this  season. 

Eesolved,  That  the  proceedings  of  this  meeting  be  signed 
by  the  Chairman  and  Secretary,  and  published. 

DANIEL  WALTON,  Chairman. 
Jacob  Snyder,  Seci-etary. 
Nov.  IS,  183L 


THE  MATCH  FOR  SlO,000. 


NoKFOLK,  Nov.  3. — The  race  of  yesterday,  over  Garri- 
son's course,  attracted  a  fine  companj',  from  the  fame  of  the 
understand  have  already  contracted  with  persons  for  their  horses  announced  to  take  part  in  the  contest.  Only  three 
delivery  in  New  York,  at  so  much  per  head.  We  would  of  the  horses  mentioned  by  us  entered  at  the  stand,  Annette, 
sayto  the  Philadelphia  sportsmen,  and  those  of  other  places.  Bayard,  and  Chanticleer.  The  weather  was  remarkably 
"Go  thou  and  do  likewise."  fine,  and  the  course  in  pretty  order,  and  the  betting,  extra 

Several  meetings  of  the  sportsmen  in  Philadelphia  have     of  the  purse,  is  believed  to  have  equalled  010,000. 
been  called  for  this  purpose,  but  as  yet  nothing  definite  has         The  following  is  the  result,  giving  the  purse  to  Col.  John- 


been  done;  and  only  a  few  evenings  since,  a  call  was  made, 
by  different  individuals,  to  sportsmen,  to  meet  at  two  places, 
the  consequence  was,  nothing  was  done,  and  the  good  in- 
tentions of  those  who  first  made  the  call,  were  completely 
frustrated,  by  dividing  the  attention  of  sportsmen  between 
the  two  places. 

Meetings  have  been  called  in  various  parts  of  the  county, 
solely  for  the  purpose  of  endeavouring  to  protect  the  re- 
mainder of  this  game  from  a  recurrence  of  such  disasters 
as  prevailed  amongst  it  last  winter. 

And  it  gives  us  much  pleasure  to  insert  the  following 
notice,  which  has  been  freely  circulated  in  most  of  our  city 
papers. 

NOTICE  TO  SPORTSMEN. 

At  a  meeting  of  the  inhabitants  of  Oxford  and  Lower 
Dublin  Township,  held  at  Sandy  Hill,  on  Monday  evening, 
the  7th  inst.,  Mr.  Daniel  Walton  was  called  to  the  chair, 
and  Jacob  Snyder  appointed  secretary.     The  following  re- 


son's  Annette: 

Mr.  Johnson's  Annette, 
Mr.  White's  Bayard, 
Mr.  Wilson's  Chanticleer, 
Time — 1st  heat  3m.  47^s.- 


THB  MATCH  RACE  FOR  §4,000. 

Nov.  4. — ^The  Match  Race  for  a  purse  of  S4,000  was  run 
yesterday  over  Garrison's  course.  The  contest  was  be- 
tween Mr.  Doswell's  b.  m.  Sally  Hornet,  5  years  old,  and 
Mr.  Wm.  Wilson's  bl.  m.  Bonny  Black.  Sally  Hornet 
proved  more  than  a  match  for  her  competitor,  and  bore  off 
the  purse. 

The  following  is  the  award: 
Mr.  Doswell's  Sally  Hornet,  1         1 

Mr.  Wilson's  Bonny  Black,  2         2 

Time— 1st  heat  7m.  55s.— 2d  heat  8m.  133. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


GREAT  TAILED   SQUIRREL. 

SCIURUS  3MCE0URUS. 

Sciurus  macrourus.  Say.  non  Gmelin,  S.  magnicau- 
datus,  Harlan.  Griffith,  Jin.  king.  S.  macroureus, 
GoDMAN.     Am.  Nat.  Hist.     Philadelphia  Museum. 

The  Squirrels  belong  to  the  great  order  Glires  or  Gnawers, 
and  are  distinguished,  by  their  very  compressed  lower  inci- 
sors, and  their  long  tail  furnished  with  hair.  They  have 
four  toes  on  the  anterior  feet,  and  five  on  the  posterior. 
Sometimes  the  thumb  of  the  fore  feet  is  marked  by  a  tu- 
bercle. Their  head  is  large,  and  their  eyes  prominent  and 
brilliant.  The  genus  Sciurus,  of  Linnaeus,  comprehends 
many  which  have  been  considered,  by  modern  Zoologists, 
as  possessing  sufficient  characters  to  be  formed  into  other 
genera.  These  are  Tajiias  Illiger,  including  the  Ground 
Squirrels,  or  those  having  cheek  pouches;  Pteromys,  Cu- 
vier,  comprehending  the  Flying  Squirrels,  and  Cheiromys, 
Cuvier,  of  which  there  is  but  one  species  distinguished  by 
having  much  more  compressed  incisors,  and  five  toes  on 
each  of  the  feet,  of  which  four  of  those  on  the  anterior  ex- 
tremities are  exceeding  long. 

The  true  or  tree  Squirrels,  are  distinguished  by  the  ab- 
sence of  the  lateral  folds  of  skin  which  are  found  in  the 
Flying  Squirrels,  and  the  cheek  pouches  which  characterise 
the  Tamias.  In  most  of  them,  the  tail  is  distichous,  that  is, 
the  hairs  diverge  on  either  side  from  a  longitudinal  medial 
line.  They  are  found  in  every  part  of  the  world  in  great 
numbers,  with  the  exception  of  New  Holland. 

Few  animals  are  to  be  compared  to  the  Squirrels  for 
beauty,  and  lightness  of  form,  and  grace  and  agility  of 
movements.  Living  on  the  loftiest  trees,  they  bound  from 
limb  to  limb,  with  a  rapidity  that  almost  resembles  flying. 
Few  animals  also,  especially  among  the  smaller  classes, 
become  so  readily  tamed,  and  submit  with  such  apparent 
contentment,  to  the  loss  of  liberty,  and  a  confinement  so 
widely  different  from  their  natural  habits. 

The  true  Squirrels  of  North  America  are  by  no  means  as 
large,  nor  is  the  colour  of  their  fur  as  rich  as  those  species 
inhabiting  the  eastern  parts  of  Asia;  with  a  few  exceptions 
they  are  of  an  ash  grey  colour  of  various  shades,  and  the 
specific  peculiarities  and  markings  by  which  they  are  dis- 
tinguished, are  so  slight,  that  it  is  a  task  of  no  little  difficulty 
to  ascertain  the  number  of  species  inhabiting  our  forests. 

The  subject  of  our  present  plate  was  first  described  by 
Mr.  Say,  in  "Long's  Expedition  to  the  Rocky  Mountains," 
from  specimens  found  on  the  Missouri,  where  it  is  the  most 
common  species.  This  gentleman  described  it  under  the 
name  of  macrourus,  without  perhaps  being  aware  that  this 
3  X 


appellation  had  already  been  given  by  Gmelin  to  the  Cey- 
lon Squirrel;  from  this  latter  circumstance  Dr.  Harlan 
changed  the  name  to  that  of  magnicaudatus,  and  Dr.  God- 
man  macroureus;  as,  however,  Cuvier  states  that  the  Cey- 
lon Squirrel  is  identical  with  the  great  Indian  Squirrel,  S. 
maximiis,  Mr.  Say's  original  name  can  still  be  retained 
for  this  species. 

We  know  little  or  nothing,  of  the  habits  or  manners  of 
the  Great  Tailed  Squirrel,  though  in  all  probability  they 
are  analogous  to  those  of  the  other  American  species.  The 
following  description  is  drawn  up  from  that  of  Mr.  Say,  aa 
originally  given: 

The  upper  part  of  the  body  and  sides  are  of  an  ash  grey 
colour  mixed  with  black;  the  hairs  are  black  at  base,  then 
pale  cinnamon,  then  black  and  finally  ash  gray,  with  a  long 
black  tip.  The  ears,  which  are  about  three  quarters  of  an 
inch  in  length,  are  of  a  bright  ferruginous  colour  behind, 
this  colour  extends  to  the  base  of  the  hair,  which,  during 
the  winter,  projects  beyond  the  edge  of  the  ear;  on  the  in- 
side, the  fur  is  of  a  dull  ferruginous  hue,  slightly  tipped  with 
black.  The  sides  of  the  head,  as  well  as  the  orbits  of  the 
eyes,  are  pale  ferruginous ;  and  beneath  the  ears  and  eyes 
the  cheeks  are  dusky.  The  whiskers  are  disposed  in  five 
series  of  slightly  flattened  hairs,  the  four  lower  series  more 
distinct.  The  mouth  is  surrounded  with  black,  and  the 
teeth  are  of  a  reddish  yellow  colour.  The  under  part  of 
the  head  and  neck  as  well  as  the  upper  surface  of  the  feet, 
are  ferruginous  ;  the  belly  is  paler,  approaching  to  a  dusky 
white,  the  fur  being  led  colour  at  base. 

The  tail  is  of  a  bright  ferruginous  colour  beneath,  the 
colour  extending  to  the  base  of  the  fur,  with  a  submarginal 
black  line.  The  upper  part  of  the  tail  is  a  mixture  of  ferru- 
ginous and  black,  the  fur  within  is  of  a  pale  cinnamon  colour 
with  the  base  and  three  bands  black,  the  tip  being  ferrugi- 
nous. The  palms  of  the  anterior  feet  are  black,  and  the 
tubercular  thumb  is  furnished  with  a  broad  flat  nail. 

When  the  animal  is  in  its  summer  dress,  the  fur  on  the 
back  is  from  three-fifths  to  seven-tenths  of  an  inch  in  length; 
whilst  in  the  winter  coat,  the  longest  hairs  on  the  middle 
of  the  back  are  from  one  to  one  inch  and  three  quarters 
long,  the  colours,  however,  do  not  vary.  From  this  differ- 
ence in  the  length  of  the  fur,  and  the  greater  proportion  of 
fat,  the  animal  appears  shorter  and  thicker  than  in  summer. 
The  total  length  of  this  species,  from  the  tip  of  the  nose 
to  the  end  of  the  tBil,exclusiveof  the  hair,  is  nineteen  inches 
and  three  quarters,  of  which  the  tail  makes  nine  inches  and 
a  tenth.  The  tail  is  much  larger  and  finer  than  in  the  com- 
mon Grey  Squirrel,  [S.  cinereus.) 

Mr.  Say  observes,  "This  species  was  not  an  unfrequent 
article  of  food  at  our  frugal  yet  social  meals  at  Engineer 
Cantonment,  and  we  could  always  immediately  distinguish 


266  THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 

the  bones  from  those  of  other  animals  by  their  remarkable 


red  colour.' 

This  species  does  not  appear  to  inhabit  as  far  north  as  the 
regions  visited  by  Dr.  Richardson,  as  that  gentleman  does 
not  mention  it  in  his  work:  in  all  probability  it  is  to  be 
found  much  further  east  than  the  Missouri,  and  been  mis- 
taken for  a  large  specimen  of  the  common  Grey  Squirrel, 
with  which  it  would  be  readily  confounded  by  a  casual  ob- 
server. 


ANECDOTES  OF  THE  SHEPHERD'S  DOG. 
Br  Mk.  Hogg. 

There  is  no  species  of  animals  so  varied  in  their  natures 
and  propensities  as  the  shepherd's  dog,  and  these  propen- 
sities are  preserved  inviolate  in  the  same  breed  from  gene- 
ration to  generation.  One  kind  will  manage  sheep  about 
hand,  about  a  bught,  shedding,  or  fold,  almost  naturally; 
and  those  that  excel  most  in  this  kind  of  service,  are  always 
the  least  tractable  at  a  distance ;  others  will  gather  sheep 
from  the  hills,  or  turn  them  this  way  as  they  are  command- 
ed, as  far  as  they  can  hear  their  master's  voice,  or  note  the 
signals  made  by  his  hand,  and  yet  can  never  be  taught  to 
command  sheep  close  around  him.  Some  excel  again  in  a 
kind  of  social  intercourse.  They  understand  all  that  is  said 
to  them,  or  of  them,  in  the  family;  and  often  a  good  deal 
that  is  said  of  sheep,  and  of  other  dogs,  their  comrades. 
One  kind  will  bite  the  legs  of  cattle,  and  no  species  of  cor- 
rection or  disapprobation  will  restrain  them,  or  ever  make 
them  give  it  up;  another  kind  bays  at  the  head  of  cattle,  and 
neither  precept  nor  example  will  ever  induce  them  to  attack 
a  beast  behind,  or  bite  its  legs. 

My  uncle  Hoy's  kind  were  held  in  estimation  over  the 
whole  country  for  their  docility  in  gathering  sheep  at  a  dis- 
tance, but  they  were  never  very  good  at  commanding  sheep 
about  hand.  Often  have  I  stood  with  astonishment  at  see- 
ing him  standing  on  the  top  of  one  hill,  and  the  Tub,  as  he 
called  an  excellent  snow-white  bitch  that  he  had,  gathering 
all  the  sheep  from  another  with  great  care  and  caution.  I 
once  saw  her  gathering  the  head  of  a  hope,  or  glen,  quite  out 
of  her  master's  sight,  while  all  that  she  heard  of  him  was 
now  and  then  the  echo  of  his  voice  or  whistle  from  another 
hill,  yet,  from  the  direction  of  that  echo,  she  gathered  the 
sheep  with  perfect  acuteness  and  punctuality. 

I  have  often  heard  him  tell  another  anecdote  of  Nimble; 
that  one  drifty  day  in  the  seventy-four,  after  gathering  the 
ewes  of  Chapel-hope,  he  found  that  he  wanted  about  an  hun- 


dred of  them.  He  again  betook  him  to  the  heights,  and 
sought  for  them  the  whole  day  without  being  able  to  find 
them,  and  began  to  suspect  that  they  were  covered  over 
with  snow  in  some  ravine.  Towards  the  evening  it  cleared 
up  a  little,  and  as  a  last  resource,  he  sent  away  Nimble. 
She  had  found  the  scent  of  them  on  the  hill  while  her  master 
was  looking  for  them;  but  not  having  received  orders  to 
bring  them,  she  had  not  the  means  of  communicating  the 
knowledge  she  possessed.  But  as  soon  as  John  gave  her 
the  gathering  word,  she  went  away,  he  said,  like  an  arrow 
out  of  a  bow,  and  in  less  than  five  minutes  he  beheld  her  at 
about  a  mile's  distance,  bringing  them  round  a  hill,  called 
The  Middle,  cocking  her  tail  behind  them,  and  apparently 
very  happy  at  having  got  the  opportunity  of  terminating  her 
master's  disquietude  with  so  much  ease. 

I  once  witnessed  another  very  singular  feat  performed  by 
a  dog  belonging  to  John  Graham,  late  tenant  in  Ashiesteel. 
A  neighbour  came  to  his  house  after  it  was  dark,  and  told 
him  that  he  had  lost  a  sheep  on  his  farm,  and  that  if  he 
(Graham)  did  not  secure  her  in  the  morning  early,  she 
would  be  lost,  as  he  had  brought  her  far.  John  said,  he 
could  not  possibly  get  to  the  hill  next  morning,  but  if  he 
would  take  him  to  the  very  spot  where  he  lost  the  sheep, 
perhaps  his  dog  Chieftain  would  find  her  that  night.  On 
that  they  went  away  with  all  expedition,  lest  the  traces  of 
the  feet  should  cool;  and  I,  then  a  boy,  being  in  the  house, 
went  with  them.  The  night  was  pitch  dark,  which  had 
been  the  cause  of  the  man  losing  his  ewe;  and  at  length  he 
pointed  out  a  place  to  John,  by  the  side  of  the  water,  where 
he  had  lost  her.  "Chieftain,  fetch  that,"  said  John,  "bring 
her  back,  sir."  The  dog  jumped  around  and  around,  and 
reared  himself  up  on  end,  but  not  being  able  to  see  any 
thing,  evidently  misapprehended  his  master;  on  which  John 
fell  a  cursing  and  swearing  at  the  dog,  calling  him  a  great 
many  blackguard  names.  He  at  last  told  the  man,  that  he 
must  point  out  the  very  track  that  the  sheep  went,  other- 
wise he  had  no  chance  of  recovering  it.  The  man  led  him 
to  a  grey  stone,  and  said,  h'e  was  sure  she  took  the  brae 
within  a  yard  of  that.  "Chieftain,  come  hither  to  my  foot, 
you  great  numb'd  whelp,"  said  John.  Chieftain  came. 
John  pointed  with  his  finger  to  the  ground,  "Fetch  that,  I 
say,  sir,  you  stupid  idiot — bring  that  back  away."  The 
dog  scented  slowly  about  on  the  ground  for  some  seconds, 
but  soon  began  to  mend  his  pace,  and  vanished  in  the  dark- 
ness. "Bring  her  back  away,  you  great  calf,"  vociferated 
John,  with  a  voice  of  exultation,  as  the  dog  broke  to  the 
hill;  and  as  all  these  good  dogs  perform  their  work  in  per- 
fect silence,  we  neither  saw  nor  lieard  any  more  for  a  long 
time.  I  think,  if  I  rememijer  right,  we  waited  there  about 
half  an  hour;  during  which  time,  all  the  conversation  was 
about  the  small  chance  that  the  dog  had  to  find  the  ewe,  for 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


it  was  agreed  on  all  hands,  that  she  must  long  ago  have 
mixed  with  the  rest  of  the  sheep  on  the  farm.  How  that 
wag,  no  man  will  ever  be  able  to  decide.  John,  however, 
still  persisted  in  waiting  until  his  dog  came  back,  either 
with  the  ewe  or  without  her;  and  at  last  the  trusty  animal 
brought  the  individual  lost  sheep  to  our  very  feet,  which 
the  man  took  on  his  back,  and  went  on  his  way  rejoicing. 
I  remember  the  dog  was  very  warm,  and  hanging  out  his 
tongue — John  called  him  all  the  ill  names  he  could  invent, 
which  the  other  seemed  to  take  in  very  good  part.  Such 
language  seemed  to  be  John's  flattery  to  his  dog.  For  my 
part,  I  went  home  fancying  I  had  seen  a  miracle,  little 
weeting  that  it  was  nothing  to  what  I  myself  was  to  expe- 
rience in  the  course  of  my  pastoral  life,  from  the  sagacity 
of  that  faithful  animal  the  shepherd's  dog. 

My  dog  was  always  my  companion.  I  conversed  with 
him  the  whole  day — I  shared  every  meal  with  him,  and  my 
plaid  in  the  time  of  a  shower;  the  consequence  was,  that  I 
generally  had  the  best  dogs  in  all  the  country.  The  first 
remarkable  one  that  I  had  was  named  Sirrah,  he  was  beyond 
all  comparison  the  best  dog  I  ever  saw.  He  was  of  a  surly 
unsocial  temper — disdained  all  flatter)^,  and  refused  to  be 
caressed ;  but  his  attention  to  his  master's  commands  and 
interests  never  will  again  be  equalled  by  any  of  the  canine 
race.  The  first  time  that  1  saw  him,  a  drover  was  leading 
him  in  a  rope;  he  was  hungry,  and  lean,  and  far  from  being 
a  beautiful  cur,  for  he  was  all  over  black,  and  had  a  grim 
face  striped  with  dark  brown.  The  man  had  bought  him 
of  a  boy  for  three  shillings,  somewhere  on  the  Border,  and 
doubtless  had  used  him  very  ill  on  his  journey.  I  thought 
I  discovered  a  sort  of  sullen  intelligence  in  his  face,  not- 
withstanding his  dejected  and  forlorn  situation,  so  I  gave 
the  drover  a  guinea  for  him,  and  appropriated  the  captive 
to  myself.  I  believe  there  never  was  a  guinea  so  well 
laid  out;  at  least,  I  am  satisfied  that  I  never  laid  out  one  to 
so  good  purpose.  He  was  scarcely  then  a  year  old,  and 
knew  so  little  of  herding,  that  he  had  never  turned  sheep  in 
his  life;  but  as  soon  as  he  discovered  that  it  was  his  duty  to 
do  so,  and  that  it  obliged  me,  I  can  never  forget  with  what 
anxiety  and  eagerness  he  learned  his  different  evolutions. 
He  would  try  every  way  deliberately,  till  he  found  out 
what  I  wanted  him  to  do;  and  when  once  I  made  him  to 
understand  a  direction,  he  never  forgot  or  mistook  it  again. 
Well  as  I  knew  him,  he  very  often  astonished  me,  for  when 
hard  pressed  in  accomplishing  the  task  that  he  was  put  to, 
he  had  expedients  of  the  moment  that  bespoke  a  great  share 
of  the  reasoning  faculty.  Were  I  to  relate  all  his  exploits, 
it  would  require  a  volume;  I  shall  only  mention  one  or  two, 
to  prove  to  you  what  kind  of  an  animal  he  was. 

I  was  a  shepherd  for  ten  years  on  the  same  farm,  where 
I  had  always  about  700  lambs  put  under  my  charge  at  wean- 


ing time.  As  they  were  of  the  short,  or  black-faced  breed, 
the  breaking  of  them  was  a  very  ticklish  and  difficult  task. 
I  was  obliged  to  watch  them  night  and  day  for  the  first  four 
days,  during  which  time  I  had  always  a  person  to  assist  me. 
It  happened  one  year,  that  just  about  midnight  the  lambs 
broke  and  came  up  the  moor  upon  us,  making  a  noise  with 
their  running  louder  than  thunder.  We  got  up,  and  waved 
our  plaids,  and  shouted,  in  hopes  to  turn  them,  but  we  only 
made  matters  worse,  for  in  a  moment  they  were  all  round 
us,  and  by  our  exertions  we  cut  them  into  three  divisions; 
one  of  these  run  north,  another  south,  and  those  that  came 
up  between  us  straight  up  the  moor  to  the  westward.  I 
called  out,  "Sirrah,  my  man,  they're  a'  away;"  the  word, 
of  all  others,  that  set  him  most  upon  the  alert,  but  owing  to 
the  darkness  of  the  night,  and  blackness  of  the  moor,  I  never 
saw  him  at  all.  As  the  division  of  the  lambs  that  ran  south- 
ward were  going  straight  towards  the  fold,  where  they  had 
been  that  day  taken  from  their  dams,  I  was  afraid  they  would 
go  there,  and  again  mix  \vith  them ;  so  I  threw  off  part  of 
my  clothes,  and  pursued  them,  and  by  great  personal  exer- 
tion, and  the  help  of  another  old  dog  that  I  had  beside 
Sirrah,  I  turned  them,  but  in  a  few  minutes  afterward  lost 
them  altogether.  I  ran  here  and  there,  not  knowing  what 
to  do,  but  always,  at  intervals,  gave  a  loud  whistle  to  Sirrah, 
to  let  him  know  that  I  was  depending  on  him.  By  that 
whistling,  the  lad  who  was  assisting  found  me  out,  but  he 
likewise  had  lost  all  traces  of  the  lambs  whatsoever.  I  ask- 
ed if  he  had  never  seen  Sirrah?  He  said,  he  had  not;  but 
that  after  I  left  him,  a  wing  of  the  lambs  had  come  round 
him  with  a  swirl,  and  that  he  supposed  Sirrah  had  then 
given  them  a  turn,  though  he  could  not  see  him  for  the 
darkness.  We  both  concluded,  that  whatever  way  the 
lambs  ran  at  first,  they  would  finally  land  at  the  fold  where 
they  left  their  mothers,  and  without  delay  we  bent  our 
course  towards  that;  but  when  we  came  there,  we  found 
nothing  of  them,  nor  was  there  any  kind  of  bleating  to  be 
heard,  and  discovered  with  vexation  that  we  had  come  on  a 
wrong  track. 

My  companion  then  bent  his  course  towards  the  farm  of 
Glen  on  the  north,  and  I  ran  away  westward  for  several 
miles,  along  the  wild  track  where  the  lambs  had  grazed 
while  following  their  dams.  We  met  after  it  was  day,  far 
up  in  a  place  called  the  Black  Cleuch,  but  neither  of  us  had 
been  able  to  discover  our  lambs,  or  any  traces  of  them.  It 
was  the  most  extraordinary  circumstance  that  had  ever  oc- 
curred in  the  annals  of  the  pastoral  life!  We  had  nothing 
for  it  but  to  return  to  our  master,  and  inform  him  that  we 
had  lost  his  whole  flock  of  lambs  to  him,  and  knew  not  what 
was  become  of  them. 

On  our  way  home,  however,  we  discovered  a  body  of 
lambs  at  the  bottom  of  a  deep  ravine,  called  the  Flesh  Clench. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


and  the  indefatigable  Sirrah  standing  in  front  of  them,  look- 
ing all  around  for  some  relief,  but  still  standing  true  to  his 
charge.  The  sun  was  then  up;  and  when  we  first  came  in 
view  of  them,  we  concluded  that  it  was  one  of  the  divisions 
of  the  lambs,  which  Sirrah  had  been  unable  to  manage  until 
he  came  to  that  commanding  situation,  for  it  was  about  a 
mile  and  a  half  distant  from  the  place  where  they  first  broke 
and  scattered.  But  what  was  our  astonishment,  when  we 
discovered  by  degrees  that  not  one  lamb  of  the  whole  flock 
was  wanting!  How  he  had  got  all  the  divisions  collected  in 
the  dark  is  beyond  my  comprehension.  The  charge  was 
left  entirely  to  himself  from  midnight  until  the  ri.sing  of  the 
sun;  and  if  all  the  shepherds  in  the  forest  had  been  there  to 
have  assisted  him,  they  could  not  have  efiected  it  with  great- 
er propriety.  All  that  I  can  say  farther  is,  that  I  never  felt 
so  o-rateful  to  any  creature  below  the  sun  as  I  did  to  my 
honest  Sirrah  that  movnmg.—Lo7idon  Sport.  Magazine. 


ON  THE  LUXURY  OF  THE  ROMANS. 

The  Roman  writers  who  flourished  during  the  republic 
say  little  about  Natural  History.  It  is  more  treated  of  by 
the  writers  under  the  Empire.  But  the  works  they  have 
left  us  on  such  subjects  contain  few  original  remarks,  and 
are  little  else  than  compilations,  a  circumstance  which  must 
appear  very  strange,  since  no  nation  had  ever  greater  oppor- 
tunities of  observing. 

In  the  earliest  ages  of  the  republic,  besides  that  the  Roman 
institutions  were  in  general  adverse  to  every  kind  of  study, 
the  simplicity  of  manners  that  prevailed  was  especially  un- 
favourable to  the  progress  of  natural  history,  a  science  of 
luxury,  expensive,  and  not  to  be  carried  on  without  many 
previous  arrangements. 

Indeed  the  relations  among  the  beings  that  form  the  sub- 
ject of  natural  history,  cannot  be  established  without  bring- 
ing together  a  great  number.  jSIuch  assistance  is  therefore 
derived  from  commerce,  drawing,  as  it  does,  towards  a  cen- 
tral point,  the  productions  of  foreign  countries.  Now,  the 
Romans,  during  a  very  long  period  were  not  commercial. 
By  the  first  treaty  made  with  the  Carthaginians,  they  bound 
themselves  not  to  sail  beyond  the  strait  that  separates  Sicily 
from  Africa.  Still  later,  in  the  year  of  Rome  405,  they 
gave  up  altogether  their  trade  with  Sardinia,  and  with  the 
coast  of  Africa. 

Commerce  was  checked,  not  through  ignorance,  but  from 
the  policy  of  their  government,  in  order  to  withstand  the 
introduction  of  luxury.  Rome  had  no  silver  money  till  the 
472d  year  from  the  foundation  of  the  city,  36S  years  before 


Christ.  At  the  date  of  the  late  Macedonian  War,  a  senator 
was  degraded  from  his  rank  for  having  ten  pounds  of  silver 
plate.  Gold  plate  was  seen  for  the  first  time  at  the  end  of 
this  war,  in  the  triumph  of  Paulus  iEmilius.  But  luxury 
was  the  speedy  consequence  of  victory,  and  the  luxury  of 
individuals  was  carried  to  the  utmost  extravagance.  We 
shall  notice  it  in  so  far  as  regards  natural  history. 

The  luxury  of  the  table,  for  example,  caused  to  be  im- 
ported into  Rome  from  foreign  countries  a  multitude  of 
animals;  of  which  several  had  no  other  recommendation  but 
rarity,  and  being  excessively  dear. 

The  luxury  of  dress  also  is  interesting,  with  respect  to 
precious  stones  and  dyes.  That  of  buildings,  on  account  of 
the  marbles  brought  from  different  parts  of  Italy,  from 
Greece,  and  even  from  Gaul.  And  the  luxury  of  furniture 
is  interesting,  from  the  valuable  woods  employed. 

Of  the  Luxury  of  the  Table. 

Quadrupeds. — During  the  second  Punic  War,  Fulvius 
Hirpinus  devised  the  mode  of  retaining  quadrupeds  in  parks. 
These  parks  were  named  Leporaria,  because  three  sorts  of 
hares  were  reared  in  them,  the  common  hare,  the  original 
Spanish  rabbit,  and  the  variegated  or  alpine  hare,  a  species 
now  almost  entirely  destroyed.  In  like  manner,  nearly  all 
the  native  animals  of  our  forests  were  bred  in  these  parks, 
besides  the  wild  sheep  and  the  mouflon.  These  animals 
were  almost  domesticated,  and  were  taught  to  unite  at  a  sig- 
nal. One  day,  when  Hortensius  was  entertaining  his  friends 
at  dinner  in  one  of  his  parks,  at  the  sound  of  a  trumpet, 
stags,  goats,  and  wild  boars  were  seen  running  up,  and 
gathered  round  his  tent,  to  the  no  small  dismay  of  some  of 
the  guests.  Servius  Rullus  was  the  first  who  had  a  whole 
boar  served  on  his  table.  Anthony,  during  his  triumvi- 
rate, displayed  eight  at  one  feast.  The  Romans  considered 
as  a  great  delicacy  the  grey  dormouse,  a  little  animal  that 
dwells  in  the  woods,  and  in  the  holes  of  oak  trees.  They 
reared  them  in  enclosures,  and  lodged  them  in  jars  of 
earthen-ware,  of  a  particular  form,  fattening  them  with 
worms  and  chesnuts. 

Birds. — Lenius  Strabo  of  Brundusium  invented  aviaries 
for  confining  such  birds,  destined  for  the  table,  as  could  not 
be  kept  within  the  walls  of  a  poultry-yard.  It  is  he,  says 
Pliny,  that  taught  us  to  imprison  animals  whose  abode  is  the 
sky.  Alexander  had  introduced  peacocks  into  Greece, 
where  they  were  regarded  only  as  objects  of  curiosity. 
Hortensius  was  the  first  who  had  one  served  at  a  banquet, 
when  he  was  appointed  to  the  office  of  augur. 

These  birds  soon  multiplied,  and  Ptolemy  Phocion  was 
astonished  at  the  great  number  of  them  to  be  found  in  Rome. 
Aufidius  Lucro  made  about  £600  a-year  by  fattening  pea- 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


269 


cocks.  The  peacock  was  a  constant  dish  at  all  the  great 
entertainments.     It  was  the  truffled  turkey  of  those  days. 

Hirtius  Pansa,  who  had  the  ill  luck  to  give  a  feast  wher'? 
this  indispensable  article  did  not  appear,  was  reckoned  a 
niggard,  a  man  without  taste,  and  was  ever  after  scorned  by 
delicate  feeders.  In  those  aviaries  thrushes  and  pigeons 
were  bred.  It  seems,  too,  there  were  then  the  same  fan- 
cies as  there  are  at  present.  Certain  varieties  were  much 
sought  after.  Varro  relates  that  a  couple  of  pigeons  brought 
2000  sesterces,  about  19/.  of  our  money.  Sempronius 
Lucius  first  had  served  on  his  table  young  storks.  Geese 
were  crammed  in  the  same  manner  as  now  to  enlarge  their 
livers;  but  it  was  a  dish  too  easily  obtained,  and  soon  those 
who  wished  to  distinguish  themselves  invented  new  sorts 
of  meat.  They  dressed  the  brains  of  ostriches,  and  the 
tongues  of  flamingos.  Wild  geese  were  sent  for  from  Phry- 
gia;  cranes  from  Melos;  and  pheasants  from  Colchis. 

Fishes. — As  to  fish,  luxury  went  even  farther  than  in 
birds  and  quadrupeds.  At  one  period  of  the  republic,  a 
man  eating  a  fish  would  have  been  thought  shamefully  dain- 
ty. But  the  severity  of  manners  disappeared  on  the  intro- 
duction of  riches;  and  Cato  complains,  that  in  his  time,  a 
fish  sold  as  dear  as  an  ox.  Yet,  even  then,  Gallonius  was 
publicly  accused  in  the  senate,  and  was  nearly  deprived  of 
his  rank,  on  account  of  the  luxury  of  his  table,  having  had 
sturgeons  on  it.  The  inventor  of  fish-ponds  was  Lucinius 
Mursena,  and  thence  came  the  surname  which  was  after- 
wards borne  by  this  family. 

Hortensius  followed  his  example,  and  even  went  beyond 
it.  Very  soon,  it  was  not  enough  to  have  fresh-water  fish, 
for  salt-water  ponds  were  formed,  in  which  were  bred  sea- 
trouts,  soles,  John  Dories,  and  shell-fish  of  different  kinds. 
Lucullus,  in  order  to  let  in  sea-water  to  one  of  his  preserves, 
had  a  mountain  cut  through,  and  from  this  extravagance  was 
deservedly  called  Xei-xes  Togatus.  At  his  death  there 
were  so  many  fish  in  his  ponds,  that  Cato  of  Utica,  who 
was  trustee  on  the  succession,  having  ordered  them  to  be 
sold,  received  for  them  the  sum  of  32,000/.  sterling.  The 
sale  of  the  fish-ponds  of  Irrius  yielded  the  same  price. 
Csesar  wishing,  on  a  particular  occasion,  to  give  a  feast  to  the 
Roman  people,  applied  to  this  Irrius  for  some  lampreys. 
Irrius  refused  to  sell  any,  but,  according  to  Pliny,  agreed  to 
lend  him  six  thousand.  Varro  says  only  two  thousand. 
The  object  then  was,  who  could  be  most  absurd  about  lam- 
preys. Hortensius  had  some  of  which  he  was  more  careful 
than  of  his  slaves,  and  not  for  the  purpose  of  eating  them. 
Those  served  on  his  table  were  bought  in  the  market.  He 
is  said  to  have  wept  on  the  death  of  one  of  these  fish.  Cras- 
sus,  the  orator,  in  a  like  case,  went  farther, — he  put  on 
mourning.  His  colleague  Domitius  chid  him  for  it  in  the 
senate;  but  all  this  was  nothing  compared  to  the  deeds  of 
3Y 


Claudius  Pollio.     He  more  than  once  threw  in  living  men 
to  be  devoured  by  his  lampreys. 

Other  fish  were  equally  the  object  of  prodigality  of  which 
we  can  hardly  form  a  conception.  The  accipenser  was 
generally  sold  for  more  than  a  thousand  drachmae.  It  was 
never  set  on  the  table  without  a  flourish  of  trumpets.  The 
accipenser  was  not,  as  it  would  seem,  the  ordinary  sturgeon, 
but  the  sterlet,  a  small  species  with  a  pointed  snout,  caught 
in  the  rivers  that  fall  into  the  Black  Sea.  The  mullet,  or 
roach  of  Provence,  called  in  Paris  the  sun-mullet,  was  also 
sold  excessively  dear.  A  mullet  weighing  four  lbs.  fetched 
£37;  another  £62.  Three  together,  in  the  reign  of  Tibe- 
rius, were  sold  so  high  as  £250.  These  fish  used  even  to 
be  brought  alive  to  the  dining-room,  by  canals  filled  with 
salt-water  which  passed  under  the  table.  The  fact  is  un- 
doubted, and  is  attested  by  the  invectives  of  Seneca. 
.  Snails  and  Oysters. — Singular  attention  was  likewise 
paid  to  snails.  The  same  Fulvius  Hirpinus,  who  had 
thought  of  parks  for  quadrupeds,  contrived  parks  for  them 
too.  As  snails  could  not  be  retained  by  inclosures,  the 
places  in  which  they  were  kept  were  surrounded  with  water. 
Jars  of  earthen-ware  were  set  for  them  to  retire  into,  and 
they  were  fattened  with  mulled  wine  and  flour.  Pliny  says 
there  were  some  of  the  weight  of  25  lbs.  Those  that  grew 
to  this  size  were  certainly  not  Italian  snails.  But  we  know 
that  snails  were  likewise  brought  from  foreign  countries,  as 
Africa  and  Illyria. 

The  man  who  first  showed  the  way  of  making  oyster-beds 
was  Sergius  Aurata.  He,  like  Lucinius,  derived  his  sur- 
name from  a  fish,  the  John  Dory.  The  preserver  of  the 
Lucrine  Lake  had  for  a  long  time  the  character  of  produ- 
cing the  best  oysters.  Next  to  them  were  those  of  Brun- 
dusium.  At  last  refinement  was  carried  farther;  and  the 
oysters  of  Brundusium  were  taken  to  be  parked  in  the  Lu- 
crine Lake. 

Fruits. — It  appears  that  fruits  were  less  sought  after  then 
than  they  have  been  since.  The  only  new  fruit  introduced 
at  this  time  was  the  cherry,  which  Lucullus  brought  from 
Cerasus,  a  town  in  Asia  Minor,  sixty-nine  years  before 
Christ. 

Perfumes  and  Dress. — The  luxury  in  perfumes  was  be- 
yond measure,  and  drew  to  Rome  the  most  costly  aromatics 
of  the  East.  The  luxury  of  dress  was  equally  great,  and 
made  known  purple,  pearls,  and  precious  stones.  At  one 
time  there  was  quite  a  rage  for  opals;  and  one  individual, 
rather  let  himself  be  prosecuted,  than  give  up  to  Sylla  a 
very  fine  one  the  dictator  desired  to  have. 

Furniture. — The  dominion  of  fashion  extended  equally 
io  furniture,  and  raised  the  value  of  certain  kinds  of  wood 
to  an  enormous  amount.  For  a  while  the  citrus  was  pre- 
ferred.    The  tree  thus  named  was  not  the  citrus  of  Theo- 


270 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


phrastus,  the  orange-tree  of  our  time;  but  seems  to  have 
been  a  species  of  Thuya,  brought  from  Cyrenaica.  They 
made  use  not  only  of  the  trunk  but  of  some  knots  that  grew 
out  near  the  root.  When  sucli  pieces  could  be  got  of  a  large 
size,  they  were  sold  excessively  dear.  Cethegus  paid  for  a 
table  1,400,000  sesterces,  about  £11,000.  Even  Seneca, 
with  all  his  outcry  against  luxury,  had  some  tables  that  cost 
a  most  exorbitant  sum.  These  pieces  were  distinguished  by 
their  colour,  and  by  the  way  they  were  veined.  Each  va- 
riety had  a  different  name.  Ebony  also  was  employed,  a 
kind  of  wood  first  introduced  into  Italy  by  Ponipey,  after 
his  victories  over  the  pirates. 

Building. — A  great  deal  of  marble  was  used  in  building. 
It  was  brought  from  the  most  distant  countries,  and  there 
were  even  several  of  which  the  quarries  are  now  lost. 
Thus  the  marbles  denoted  by  the  names  of  vci't  antique 
and  rouge  antique,  are  so  termed  because  they  are  found 
only  in  ancient  structures.  It  was  in  searching  for  such  frag- 
ments among  some  ruins  that  Pompeii  was  discovered. 

Luxury  of  the  Empire. — If  from  the  luxury  of  indi- 
viduals we  turn  to  the  luxury  displayed  in  public  festivals, 
we  find  still  greater  matter  of  astonishment.  One  would 
hardly  venture  to  repeat  what  is  stated  in  ancient  writers, 
yet  there  appears  no  ground  for  supposing  that  they  exag- 
gerated, seeing  how  closely  their  accounts  agree;  when  we 
reflect,  too,  that  they  were  nearly  all  eye-witnesses  of  what 
they  relate,  and  that  they  would  not  have  attempted  to 
bring  forward  assertions  opposed  to  the  knowledge  of  all 
their  contemporaries.  Messrs.  Beckman,Mongez,  and  Cu- 
vier,  have  made  very  extensive  inquiries  about  the  animals 
exhibited  or  slain  in  the  circus.  Such  inquiries  ought  not 
to  be  regarded  as  merely  curious.  In  fact,  it  is  of  impor- 
tance to  the  naturalist,  and  for  several  reasons,  to  know  the 
date  of  the  first  appearance  of  these  animals,  the  countries 
of  which  they  were  natives,  and  their  numbers.  For  ex- 
ample, without  ascertaining  these  points,  a  naturalist  would 
often  be  apt  to  mistake  the  bones  of  foreign  quadrupeds  for 
true  fossil  remains,  and  thus  to  mistake  transported  soil  for 
regular  formations. 

Curius  Dentatus  first  showed  foreign  animals  at  Rome  in 
the  year  273  before  Christ.     It  will  be  recollected,  that  ele- 


tellus  having  gained  a  great  victory  over  the  Carthaginians, 
captured  a  hundred  and  forty-two  elephants,  which  were  all 
slain  with  arrows  in  the  circus.  It  was  evidently  good  po- 
licy, ill  the  time  of  Curius  Dentatus,  to  put  to  death  some 
of  these  animals,  in  order  to  lessen  the  fear  the  sight  of  them 
had  at  first  produced.  There  were  not  the  same  reasons  for 
the  second  massacre;  but,  without  doubt,  the  Romans  had 
no  desire  to  introduce  elephants  into  their  armies,  and  thus 
oblige  themselves  to  alter  tactics  of  which  they  had  proved 
the  excellence.  As  httle  were  tiiey  inclined  to  make  a  pre- 
sent of  these  elephants  to  an}^  of  the  kings  their  allies,  from 
an  apprehension  of  adding  too  much  to  their  force.  Sixty- 
six  years  after  the  triumph  of  Metellus,  in  the  year  before 
Christ  186,  Marcus  Fulvius,  to  absolve  himself  from  a  vow 
he  had  made  in  the  ^tolian  war,  exhibited  panthers  and 
lions.  These  animals  might  have  come  from  Africa;  but 
perhaps  he  had  obtained  them  from  Asia  Minor,  where,  at 
this  time,  some  were  still  to  be  found.  The  people  getting 
a  taste  for  these  shows,  Scipio  Nasica  and  Publius  Lentulus 
gave  them  a  sight  of  several  elephants,  forty  bears,  and  fifty- 
three  panthers.  Quintus  Scaevola  had  several  lions  fighting 
against  men.  Sylla  had  more  tlian  an  hundred  male  lions. 
In  the  year  5S  before  Christ,  iEmilius  Scaurus,  during  his 
sedilship,  distinguished  himself  not  only  by  the  number  of 
animals  be  brought  out,  but  also  bj'  presenting  several  that 
had  never  before  been  seen  in  Rome.  In  these  spectacles 
the  first  hippopotamus  appeared.  There  were  also  five 
live  crocodiles,  five  hundred  panthers,  and,  more  strange 
still,  the  bones  of  the  animal  to  which,  it  was  said,  Andro- 
meda had  been  exposed.  These  bones  had  been  brought 
from  the  town  of  Joppa  (Jaffa),  on  the  coast  of  Palestine. 
There  were  among  them  vertebrae  a  foot  and  a  half  long, 
and  a  bone  not  under  six-and-tiiirty  feet  in  length,  probably 
the  under  jaw  of  a  whale.  In  the  year  55  before  Ciirist, 
Pompey  at  the  inauguration  of  his  theatre,  displayed  a  lynx, 
a  cephus  from  iEthiopia  (a  species  of  ape),  a  one-horned 
rhinoceros,  twenty  elephants  fighting  with  men,  four  hun- 
dred and  ten  panthers,  and  six  hundred  lions,  whereof  three 
iiundred  and  fifteen  had  manes.  All  the  sovereigns  of 
Europe  together  could  not  now  produce  such  a  number. 
Cicero,  who  was  present  at  these  games,  speaks  of  them 


phants  were  first  brought  to  Greece  during  the  conquests  of    with  great  disdain,  and  says  the  people  at  last  took  pity  on 


Alexander.  Aristotle  saw  them,  and  wrote  about  them  a 
great  deal  better  than  Buffon  has  since  done.  These  ele- 
phants, and  some  others  sent  afterwards,  came  into  the  pos- 
session of  Pyrrhus,  king  of  Epirus,  who  had  taken  them 
from  Demetrius  Poliorcetes.  Pyrrhus  having  been  himself 
defeated  by  the  Romans,  four  of  his  war-elephants  fell  into 
the  power  of  the  conquerors.  These  elephants,  after  hav- 
ing been  led  in  the  triumphal  possession  of  Curius,  were 
slain  before  the  people.     Four-and-twenty  years  later,  Me- 


the  elephants.  In  the  4Sth  j'ear  before  Christ,  Anthony 
exhibited  lions  harnessed  to  a  chariot;  it  was  the  first  time 
these  animals  had  been  seen  so  employed,  but  they  were  not 
the  first  that  had  been  tamed.  A  Carthaginian,  named  Ilanno, 
had  a  lion  that  followed  him  through  that  city  like  a  dog. 
His  trouble  was  ill  rewarded,  for  his  countrymen  banished 
him,  judging  that  a  man  who  had  been  able  to  subdue  a  fero- 
cious beast,  must  have  been  gifted  with  some  secret  power 
by  which  he  might  perhaps  have  overcome  themselves. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


271 


In  the  3'ear  46  before  Christ,  Csesar  put  forth,  in  an  am- 
phitheatre covered  over  witii  a  purple  awning,  four  hundred 
nianed  lions,  several  wild  bulls  fighting  with  men,  and 
twenty  elephants  which  were  attacked  by  five  hundred  in- 
fantry. On  the  evening  of  his  triumph,  he  returned  home 
preceded  by  elephants  carrying  torches. 

We  may  imagine  the  unbounded  opulence  of  the  men 
who  could  afford  such  spectacles — the  eagerness  of  allied 
kings  to  gratify  them — the  crowds  of  human  beings  em- 
ployed in  obtaining  the  animals  exhibited  to  the  people!  It 
is  not  less  astonishing  that  it  was  possible  to  collect  such  a 
multitude  of  large  animals  and  beasts  of  prey. 

Yet  in  this  kind  of  munificence  the  great  Romans  of  the 
republic  were  afterwards  outdone  by  the  emperors.  From 
an  inscription,  in  honour  of  Augustus,  found  at  Ancyra,  we 
learn,  that  this  prince  caused  three  thousand  five  hundred 
wild  beasts  to  be  slain  before  the  people.  On  one  occasion 
he  had  water  brought  into  the  circus  of  Flaminius,  and 
showed  thirty-six  live  crocodiles  torn  to  pieces  by  other 
savage  animals.  Two  hundred  and  sixty-eight  lions  were 
killed  at  this  entertainment.  There  was  besides  a  serpent 
fifty  cubits  long,  a  python  from  Africa,  and  a  royal  tiger 
confined  in  a  cage,  the  first  that  had  been  seen  in  Rome. 
Augustus,  before  he  became  emperor,  at  his  triumph  over 
Cleopatra,  had  a  reindeer  and  a  hippopotamus  slain  in  the 
circus.  Germanicus,  at  his  triumph  over  the  Germans, 
brought  out  elephants  that  had  been  taught  to  dance.  Cali- 
gula gave  four  hundred  bears  and  four  hundred  panthers  to 
be  killed.  Claudius,  at  the  dedication  o(  the  Pantheon,  dis- 
pla3'ed  four  live  roj'al  tigers.  A  mosaic  pavement  which 
has  lasted  till  our  time,  represent  these  animals  of  their 
natural  size.  The  same  emperor  having  been  informed 
that  a  whale  was  stranded  in  the  harbour  of  Ostia,  repaired 
thither,  and  engnged  the  monster  with  his  galleys.  The 
animal  was  probably  a  large  species  of  dolphin,  the  orca. 
Galba  showed  an  elephant  that  went  up  on  a  tight  rope  to 
the  summit  of  the  theatre,  with  a  Roman  horseman  on  his 
back.  These  elephants  were  instructed  when  they  were 
young,  for  they  were  born  in  Rome.  ^Elian  says  so  posi- 
tively, in  speaking  of  the  elephants  of  Germanicus.  Mr. 
Corse  Scott  has  shown,  in  opposition  to  the  opinion  of 
Buffon,  that  elephants,  by  taking  certain  precautions,  will 
breed  in  a  state  of  domestication.  But  the  fact  was  known 
in  Italv  from  the  time  of  Columella. 

This  lavish  expenditure  continued  during  the  first  four 
centuries  of  the  Roman  empire.  Titus,  at  the  dedication 
of  his  baths,  placed  in  the  circus  nine  thousand  animals, 
and  exhibited  cranes  fighting  together.  Domitian  gave 
hunts  by  torch-light,  where  the  two-horned  rhinoceros  ap- 
peared,— an  animal  with  which  Sparrman  has  made  us  ac- 
quainted only  within  the  last  sixty  years,  though  it  is  en- 


graved on  the  medals  of  Domitian.  In  these  games  a  wo- 
man fought  with  a  lion.  An  elephant,  after  having  trampled 
to  death  a  bull,  went  and  knelt  to  the  emperor;  a  royal 
tiger  killed  a  lion ;  and  wild  cattle  dragged  chariots.  Martial 
has  occupied  a  whole  book  with  the  description  of  the 
games  of  Domitian.  In  his  epigrams  naturalists  will  find 
manj'  curious  hints. 

Trajan,  after  his  victory  over  Deceballus,  king  of  Parthia, 
gave  entertainments  that  lasted  three-and-twenty  days. 
According  to  Dio  Cassius,  eleven  thousand  animals  perished 
at  them.  But  the  accounts  of  historians  arc  much  less  in- 
teresting, than  a  mosaic,  executed  by  order  of  that  emperor. 
In  this  valuable  fragment,  which  was  discovered  at  Pales- 
trina,  the  ancient  Prjeneste,  the  animals  of  Egypt  and 
Ethiopia  are  figured  with  the  names  under  each  of  them. 
The  lower  part  represents  the  inundation  of  the  Nile. 
The  forms  of  the  ibis,  the  crocodile,  and  the  hippopotamus, 
are  very  exactly  given.  But  the  hippopotamus  has  been 
very  ill  described  by  the  Roman  naturalists,  who  have  only 
copied  from  Herodotus.  On  the  upper  part  of  the  mosaic 
there  appear  among  the  mountains  of  Ethiopia  the  giraffe, 
under  the  name  o[  nobis;  apes,  and  various  reptiles;  in  all 
thirty  animals,  easily  recognised,  and  whose  nomenclature 
is  thus  determined. 

Antoninus,  the  successor  of  Adrian,  conforming  to  the 
established  usage  likewise  exhibited  games.  He  had  croco- 
diles, hipoppotamuses,  strepsiceroses  (antelopes),  and  hyae- 
nas, different  from  those  described  by  Agatarchis. 

Marcus  Aurelius  abhorred  such  spectacles,  but  his  son 
Commodus  resumed  them  with  fury;  with  hisown  hand  he 
slew  a  tiger,  a  hippopotamus,  and  an  elephant.  He  sent 
into  the  circus  a  great  number  of  ostriches,  and  as  they  ran 
about  cut  off  their  heads  with  crescent-shaped  blades,  fixed 
on  the  points  of  arrows.  Herodian,  who  relates  the  fact, 
says,  that  the  birds,  after  being  decapitated  ran  about  some 
time.  The  experiment  has  been  successfully  repeated  on 
ducks.  Septimus  Severu.=,  in  the  tenth  year  of  his  reign, 
at  the  rejoicings  on  the  marriage  of  Caracalla,  made  four  hun- 
dred animals  come  out  of  a  machine,  and  among  them  some 
wild  asses  and  bisons.  At  the  marriage  of  Heliogabalus, 
there  were  chariots  drawn  bj'  all  kinds  of  wild  beasts. 

The  most  expensive  and  most  curious  assemblages  of  ani- 
mals were  those  of  the  Gordians.  The  first  emperor  of 
this  name  in  one  day  exposed  to  view  a  thousand  panthers. 
Probus,  one  of  their  successors,  had  trees  planted  in  the 
circus.  INIore  than  a  thousand  ostriches,  and  a  countless 
throng  of  various  creatures  were  seen  running  about  in  this 
artificial  forest. 

So  long  as  the  Roman  empire  existed  in  the  west,  similar 
displays  were  continued.  In  spite  of  the  prohibitions  of 
Constantine,  there  were  some  even  under  Christian  empe- 


272 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


rors.  Theodosius  gave  fights  of  animals  in  the  circus;  and 
Justinian  himself  exhited  in  the  amphitheatre  twenty  lions 
and  thirty  panthers. 

Such  sights,  repeated  without  interruption  for  more  than 
four  hundred  years,  must  have  afforded  the  Roman  naturalists 
opportunities  of  making  numerous  observations  on  the 
forms,  habits,  and  interior  organization  of  foreign  animals; 
yet  science  v/as  little  improved  by  their  labours.  It  seems, 
that  the  animals  being  once  killed,  nobody  derived  any 
further  benefit  from  their  slaughter.  The  proof  is,  that 
all  the  writers  of  the  first,  second,  and  third  centuries  of 
the  Christian  era,  who  have  treated  of  such  animals,  have 
borrowed  every  thing  they  have  said  about  them  from 
Greek  authors  who  lived  before  the  Roman  conquest.  Pliny 
himself  is  but  a  compiler. — From  a  Lecture  delivered  by 
Baron  Cuvicr. — Edln.  Phil.  Jour. 


A  PECULIARITY  NOT  HITHERTO  DESCRIBED 

IN  THE  ANKLE  OR  HOCK-JOINT  OF  THE  HORSE. 

Br  Robert  J.  Graves,  M.D.,  M.R.LA. 

Being  engaged  in  the  dissection  of  the  horse,  on  exam- 
ining the  hock-joint,  I  found  that  any  effort  to  flex  or  bend 
the  limb  at  that  joint,  was  counteracted  by  a  considerable 
resistance,  which  continued  until  the  limb  was  bent  to  a 
certain  extent;  after  which,  suddenly,  and  without  the  aid 
of  any  external  force,  it  attained  to  its  extreme  degree  of 
flexion.  In  attempting  to  restore  the  extended  position  of 
the  limb,  I  found  that  a  similar  impediment  existed  to  its 
extension,  until  the  same  point  was  passed,  when  the  limb 
suddenly,  as  it  were,  snapped  into  its  extreme  degree  of 
extension  at  this  joint. 

At  first  I  conceived  that  this  phenomenon  depended  on 
the  tendons  of  the  flexor  and  extensor  muscles  of  this  joint; 
but  on  removing  all  these  muscles  and  their  tendons,  it  was 
not  diminished,  and  it  therefore  became  clear  that  it  de- 
pended on  some  peculiar  mechanism  within  the  joint  it- 
self. 

Before  I  enter  into  the  details  of  this  mechanism,  it  is  ne- 
cessary to  remark,  tliat  it  is  evidently  connected  with  the 
power  this  animal  jjossesses,  of  sleeping  standing,  for  it 
serves  the  purpose  of  keeping  the  hock-joint  in  the  extended 
position,  so  far  as  to  counteract  the  oscillations  of  the  body, 
without  the  aid  of  muscular  exertion:  and  in  this  respect  it 
resembles  the  provision  made  to  effect  a  similar  purpose  in 
certain  birds,  as  the  stork,  and  some  others  of  the  grallas, 
which  sleep  standing  on  one  foot.     It  will  appear,  also,  in 


the  sequel,  that  not  only  is  the  effect  produced  the  same, 
but  the  mechanism  is  in  many  respects  similar,  if  the  ac- 
count given  by  Cuvier,  and  also  by  Dr.  Macartney,  in  Rees' 
Cyclopedia,  article  Birds,  be  correct. 

Sheep  and  cows  are  not  provided  with  ankle-joints  of  a 
similar  structure,  and  it  is  well  known  that  these  animals  do 
not  possess  the  power  of  sleeping  standing.  Another  circum- 
stance which  adds  additional  interest  to  this  peculiarity  of 
structure,  is,  that  it  may  possibly  be  connected  with  the 
disease  termed  String-halt,  in  which  the  limb  is  at  each 
step  suddenly  flexed  to  a  degree  far  beyond  that  required 
in  ordinary  progression.  Whether  this  is  owing  to  a  sud- 
den and  jerking  flexion  of  the  whole  limb,  or  to  flexion  of 
the  hock-joint  alone,  I  have  had  no  opportunity  lately  of  de- 
termining. If  the  latter  be  the  case,  it  is  probably  connect- 
ed with  the  structure  of  the  hock-joint,  which  I  am  about 
to  describe.  It  may  be  right  to  observe  that  not  even  a 
probable  conjecture  has  been  advanced,  concerning  the  na- 
ture and  cause  of  string-halt,  a  disease  to  which  the  sheep 
and  cow  are  not  subject,  and  we  have  already  observed,  that 
in  these  animals  the  structure  of  this  joint  presents  nothing 
remarkable. 

The  hock-joint  is  a  good  example  of  what  is  termed  the 
hinge-like  articulation,  and  is  formed  between  the  tibia  and 
astragalus,  which  latter  bone  presents  an  articulating  sur- 
face; with  a  nearly  semicircular  outline,  and  divided  into 
two  ridges,  including  between  them  a  deep  fossa.  The 
tibia  is  furnished  with  depressions  which  ride  upon  the 
ridges  of  the  astragalus,  and  has  anterior  and  posterior  pro- 
jections, which,  moving  in  the  fossa,  and  received  into  cor- 
responding depressions  in  the  astragalus,  at  the  moment  the 
limb  arrives  at  the  greatest  degree  either  of  flexion  or  of  ex- 
tension. 

The  shape  of  the  surfaces  of  the  astragalus  concerned  in 
the  articulation,  is  not  that  a  given  circle  throughout,  for  to- 
wards either  extremity,  the  descent  is  more  rapid,  or,  in 
other  words,  answers  to  an  arc  of  a  smaller  circle.  Hence, 
when  one  of  the  objections  of  the  tibia  has  arrived  at  its 
corresponding  cavity  in  the  astragalus,  which  happens  when 
the  limb  is  either  completely  flexed  or  completely  extended, 
the  rapid  curve  of  the  articulating  surface  presents  a  con- 
siderable obstruction  to  change  a  position.  Thus,  the  form 
of  the  articulating  surfaces,  in  itself,  to  a  certain  degree, 
explains  the  phenomenon;  but  its  chief  cause  is  to  be  found 
in  the  disposition  and  arrangement  of  the  ligaments. 

The  external  malleolus  of  the  tibia  is  divided  by  a  deep 
groove,  for  the  passage  of  a  tendon,  into  an  anterior  and  pos- 
terior tubercle;  from  the  latter  of  which,  and  close  to  the 
edge  of  the  articulating  surface,  arises  a  strong  and  broad 
ligament  that  is  inserted  into  the  os  calcis.  Under  this  lies 
another  ligament,  which,  arising  from  the  anterior  tubercle, 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


is  also  inserted  into  the  os  calcis.  It  is  to  be  observed, 
that  the  origin  of  the  latter  was  anterior  to  that  of  the  for- 
mer, but  its  insertion  posterior,  so  that  these  lateral  liga- 
ments cross  each  other  in  the  form  of  an  x.  The  external 
articulating  protuberance  of  the  astragalus  on  which  the 
tibia  revolves,  has,  as  has  been  already  stated,  a  nearly  cir- 
cular outline,  and  the  attachments  of  the  ligaments  just 
described,  are  at  points  on  the  outside  of  the  os  calcis,  which 
would  lie  nearly  in  the  circumference  of  that  circle,  were 
it  continued  from  the  articulating  surface;  so  that  each  of 
these  ligaments  has  one  of  its  extremities  fixed  in  a  certain 
point  of  the  circumference,  while  its  opposite  extremity  re- 
volves during  the  motion  of  the  joint,  nearly  in  the  circum- 
ference of  the  same  circle.  This  observation  applies  like- 
wise to  the  two  lateral  ligaments  on  the  inner  side  of  the 
joint,  which  have  nearly  the  same  relation  to  each  other, 
and  to  the  general  contour  of  the  joint,  as  that  just  des- 
cribed; so  it  is  obvious,  that  during  the  rotation  of  the 
joint,  as  the  origins  of  these  ligaments  move  along  the  same 
circumference  in  which  their  attachments  are  fixed,  the 
ligaments  will  be  most  stretched  when  they  correspond  to 
diameters  of  that  circle. 

Now  it  is  so  arranged  that  this  happens  at  the  same  time 
for  all,  and  consequently  the  ligaments  on  each  side  corres- 
pond not  merely  as  to  direction,  but  as  to  the  point  of  time 
they  become  most  stretched,  which  is  nearly  at  the  moment 
that  the  joint  has  no  tendency  to  move  either  way,  and  at 
that  moment,  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  although  the  liga- 
ments are  most  tense,  and  of  course  react  on  their  points  of 
attachment  with  greatest  force,  yet  this  produces  no  motion, 
as  the  force  is  exerted  in  a  direction  perpendicular  to  the 
circumference;  but  as  soon  as  the  tibia  is  moved  beyond 
this  point  of  inaction  for  the  ligament,  the  latter,  no  longer 
representing  diameters,  b_v  their  contractile  force  evidently 
tend  to  accelerate  the  motion;  and  as  they  all  act  in  the 
same  direction,  and  are  assisted  by  the  shape  of  the  articu- 
lating surfaces,  a  sudden  motion  of  flexion  or  extension  is 
thus  produced. 

The  preceding  explantion  supposes  the  ligaments  to  pos- 
sess, contrary  to  the  nature  of  ligaments,  in  general,  a  cer- 
tain degree  of  elasticity,  which  was  evidently  the  case  in 
all,  hut  particularly  in  the  most  deep-seated  of  those  on 
the  inner  side  of  the  joint,  which,  therefore,  appears  most 
concerned  in  producing  the  sudden  motion,  whether  of 
flexion  or  extension. — Edin.  Philos.  Jour. 


There  is  no  fish  vv^hich  yields  so  much  oil  in  proportion  to 
its  size,  as  the  Porpoise,  and  therefore  renders  its  capture 
an  object  of  consideration;  and  it  is  said,  that  whenever  a 
Porpoise  happens  to  be  wounded,  all  the  rest  of  its  compa- 
nions will  immediately  fall  upon,  and  devour  it. 
3  Z 


THE  BREAD  FRUIT. 

The  bread-fruit,  originally  found  in  the  south-eastern 
parts  of  Asia,  and  the  islands  of  the  Pacific,  though  now  in- 
troduced into  the  tropical  parts  of  the  western  continent, 
and  the  West  India  islands,  is  one  of  the  most  interesting, 
as  well  as  singular  productions  of  the  vegetable  kingdom. 
There  are  two  species  of  it:  the  bread-fruit,  properly  so 
called  [Artocarpus  incisa),  with  the  leaves  deeply  gashed 
or  divided  at  the  sides,  which  grows  chiefly  in  the  islands; 
and  the  Jack  fruit,  or  Jaca  tree  {Artocarpus  integrifolia,) 
with  the  leaves  entire,  which  grows  chiefly  on  the  main 
land  of  Asia. 

The  bread-fruit  is  a  beautiful  as  well  as  a  useful  tree:  the 
trunk  rises  to  the  height  of  about  forty  feet,  and,  in  a  full 
grown  tree,  is  from  a  foot  to  fifteen  inches  in  diameter;  the 
bark  is  ash-colourcd;  full  of  little  chinks,  and  covered  by 
small  knobs;  the  inner  bark  is  fibrous,  and  is  used  in  the 
manufacture  of  a  sort  of  cloth;  and  the  wood  is  smooth, 
soft;  and  of  a  yellow  colour.  The  branches  come  out  in  a 
horizontal  manner,  the  lowest  ones  about  ten  or  twelve  feet 
from  the  ground;  and  thej''  become  shorter  and  shorter  as 
they  are  nearer  and  nearer  the  top:  the  leaves  are  divided 
into  seven  or  nine  lobes,  about  eighteen  inches  or  two  feet 
long,  and  are  of  a  lively  green.  The  tree  bears  male  and 
female  flowers,  the  males  among  the  upper  leaves,  and  the 
females  at  the  extremities  of  the  twigs.  When  full  grown, 
tJie  fruit  is  about  nine  inches  long,  heart-shaped,  of  a  green- 
ish colour,  and  marked  with  hexagonal  warts,  formed  into 
facets.  The  pulp  is  white,  partl_v  farinaceous  and  partly 
fibrous;  but,  when  quite  ripe,  it  becomes  yellow  and  juicy. 
The  whole  tree,  when  in  a  green  state,  abounds  with  a  viscid 
milky  juice,  of  so  tenacious  a  nature  as  to  be  drawn  out  in 
tlu'eads. 

In  the  island  of  Otalieite  and  other  places,  where  the 
bread-fruit  forms  the  chief  support  of  the  people,  there  are, 
as  is  the  case  with  cultivated  vegetables  in  all  countries, 
many  varieties;  only  two,  however,  are  very  diflferent  from 
each  other — that  which  contains  seeds  in  the  fruit,  and  that 
which  contains  none.  The  variety  with  seeds  is  much  in- 
ferior to  the  other,  being  more  fibrous,  containing  less  farina, 
and  not  so  pleasant  to  the  taste;  it  is,  therefore,  not  culti- 
vated, though,  in  cases  of  need  it  is  roasted  and  eaten. 
Whether  the  seedless  sort  has  been  produced  wholly  by  cul- 
tivation it  is  not  easy,  and  would  not  be  of  much  importance, 
to  ascertain:  it  is  the  one  cultivated  in  the  South  Sea  is- 
lands; it  was  originally  found  only  there;  and  the  tree  was 
not  in  much  repute  till  these  islands  were  discovered. 

The  bread-fruit  continues  productive  for  about  eight 
months  in  the  year:  such  is  its  abundance,  that  two  or  three 
trees  will  sufiice  for  a  man's  yearly  supply,  a  store  being 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  fflSTORY 


made  into  a  sour  paste,  called  make  in  the  islands,  which  is 
eaten  during  the  unproductive  season .  The  planting  of  the 
seedless  variety  is  now  saved,  as  the  creeping  roots  send  up 
suckers  which  soon  grow  to  trees.  When  the  fruit  is  roast- 
ed till  the  outside  is  charred,  the  pulp  has  a  consistency  not 
very  unlike  that  of  wheaten  bread;  and  the  taste  is  inter- 
mediate between  that  of  bread  and  roasted  chesnuts.  It  is 
said  to  be  very  nourishing,  and  is  prepared  in  various  ways. 

The  timber  of  the  bread-fruit,  though  soft,  is  found  use- 
ful in  the  construction  of  houses  and  boats;  the  male  flowers, 
dried,  serve  for  tinder;  the  juice  answers  for  bird-lime  and 
glue;  the  leaves  for  packing  and  for  towels;  and  the  inner 
bark,  beaten  together,  makes  one  species  of  the  South  Sea 
cloth. 

The  earliest  account  of  the  bread-fruit  is  by  Captain 
Dampier,  in  16SS.  "The  bread-fruit,"  says  this  naviga- 
tor, "  grows  on  a  large  tree,  as  big  and  high  as  our  largest 
apple  trees;  it  hath  a  spreading  head,  full  branches,  and 
dark  leaves.  The  fruit  grows  on  the  boughs  like  apples;  it 
is  as  big  as  a  penny  loaf,  when  wheat  is  at  five  shillings  the 
bushel;  it  is  of  a  round  shape,  and  hath  a  thick  tough  rind. 
When  the  fruit  is  ripe,  it  is  yellow  and  soft,  and  the  taste  is 
sweet  and  pleasant.  The  natives  of  Guam  use  it  for  bread. 
They  gather  it  when  full  grown,  while  it  is  green  and  hard; 
they  then  bake  it  in  an  oven  which  scorcheth  the  rind,  and 
maketh  it  black;  but  they  scrape  of  the  outside  black  crust, 
and  there  remains  a  tender  thin  crust;  and  the  inside  is  soft, 
tender,  and  white,  like  the  crumb  of  a  penny  loaf.  There 
is  neither  seed  nor  stone  in  the  inside,  but  all  of  a  pure  sub- 
stance like  bread.  It  must  be  eaten  new,  for,  if  it  be  kept 
above  twenty-four  hours,  it  grows  harsh  and  choky,  but  it 
is  very  pleasant  before  it  is  too  stale.  This  fruit  lasts  in 
season  eight  months  in  the  year,  during  which  the  natives 
eat  no  other  sort  of  bread  kind.  I  did  never  see  of  this 
fruit  any  where  but  here.  The  natives  told  us,  that  there 
is  plenty  of  this  fruit  growing  on  the  rest  of  the  Ladrone 
Islands;  and  I  did  never  hear  of  it  anywhere  else." 

The  scientific  men  who  accompanied  Captain  Cook  in  his 
voyages,  came  home  with  the  most  enthusiastic  ideas  of 
the  bread-fruit.  Dr.  Solander  calls  it  "  the  most  useful 
vegetable  in  the  world,"  and  urges  that  no  expense  should 
be  spared  in  its  cultivation.  The  mere  idea  of  bread,  the 
most  valuable  food  of  man,  growing  spontaneously,  was 
doubtless  calculated  to  excite  attention — almost,  perhaps,  as 
strongly  as  the  subsequent  description  of  the  poet: — 


"  The  bread-tree,  which,  without  the  plougsliare,  yields 

The  unreap'd  harvest  of  uniurrowM  fields, 

And  bakes  its  iinadulterated  loaves 

Without  a  furnace  in  unpurchased  groves, 

And  flings  off  famine  from  its  fertile  breast, 

A  priceless  market  for  the  gathering  guest."     Byron. 


A  tree,  of  the  value  and  easy  culture  of  which  so  very 
encouraging  accounts  were  given,  could  not  but  attract  the 
notice  of  the  public  generally,  and  more  especially  of  those 
colonists  of  Great  Britain  who  lived  in  a  climate  warm 
enough  for  its  cultivation.  An  application  to  be  furnished 
with  plants  of  the  bread-fruit  tree  was  accordingly  made  to 
his  late  Majesty  by  the  planters  and  others  interested  in  the 
West  Indies,  and  it  met  with  a  favourable  reception.  The 
Bounty,  a  vessel  of  about  two  hundred  and  fifteen  tons 
burthen,  was  fitted  up  for  a  voyage  to  Otaheite.  Lieute- 
nant (afterwards  Admiral)  Bligh,  who  had  accompanied 
Cook  on  his  last  voyage,  and  shown  himself  an  officer  of 
great  talents,  enterprise,  and  bravery,  was  appointed  to 
the  command.  In  addition  to  the  crew  of  the  vessel,  two 
men  were  appointed  at  the  recommendation  of  Sir  Joseph 
Banks,  to  take  immediate  charge  of  the  procuring,  shipping, 
and  tending  of  the  plants. 

The  Bounty  was  skilfully  fitted  up  for  her  intended  pur- 
pose. A  large  cabin  between  decks,  in  midships,  was 
prepared  for  the  reception  of  the  plants.  This  had  two 
large  skylights  on  the  top  for  light;  three  scuttles  on  each 
side  for  ventilation  of  air,  and  a  double  bottom;  an  upper 
one  of  timber  on  which  to  place  the  pots  and  tubs  contain- 
ing the  plants,  which  w-as  drilled  full  of  holes  to  allow  es- 
cape to  the  superfluous  water  which  might  have  injured 
them  by  stagnation — and  a  leaden  one  upon  the  lower  deck, 
in  which  the  water  that  ran  through  the  other  was  collected, 
and  from  which  it  was  conducted  by  a  leaden  pipe  at  each 
corner,  into  casks  below  for  future  use. 

Thus  prepared,  the  vessel  put  to  sea  about  the  middle  of 
November,  1787,  but  was  beat  about  and  baffled  by  contrary 
winds,  so  that  the  voyage  was  not  commenced  till  the  23d 
of  December.  The  instructions  given  to  Lieutenant  Bligh 
were  full  and  explicit.  He  was  to  resort  to  those  places  in 
the  Society  Isles  where  Captain  Cook  had  stated  that  the 
bread-fruit  tree  was  to  be  found  in  the  greatest  luxuriance, 
and  there  procure  as  many  plants  as  the  vessel  could  carry; 
after  which  he  was  to  proceed  with  them  to  the  West  Indies 
with  all  possible  expedition. 

The  commander  sailed  first  for  Teneriffe,  and  thence  for 
the  South  of  America,  intending  to  enter  the  Pacific  by  the 
passage  of  Cape  Horn.  But  the  storms  of  that  inhospitable 
region  beat  him  back;  and  he  was  forced  to  bear  away  for 
the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  and  reach  the  Society  Islands  on 
the  side  of  New  Holland.  This  voyage,  which  had  occu- 
pied ten  months  terminated  on  the  25th  October,  by  the 
arrival  of  the  Bounty  at  Otaheite. 

No  time  was  lost  inputting  the  instructions  into  execution. 
The  young  shoots  that  sprung  from  the  lateral  roots  of 
the  bread-fruit  trees  were  taken  up,  with  balls  of  earth, 
where  the  soil  was  moist;  and  this  operation  was  continued 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


till  they  were  in  possession  of  one  thousand  and  fifteen  live 
plants,  secured  in  seven  hundred  and  seventy-four  pots, 
thirty-nine  tubs,  and  twenty-four  boxes.  To  complete  this 
cargo  took  them  till  the  3d  of  April,  17S9;  and  Bligh  sailed 
on  the  fourth,  passing  from  Otaheite  through  the  groupe  of 
islands,  and  bidding  adieu  to  the  natives,  with  whom  he  and 
his  crew  had  been  on  most  friendly  terms  during  their  stay. 

Hitherto  there  had  been  no  perils  to  contend  with  but 
those  of  the  sea;  but  when  four  and  twenty  days  had  elaps- 
ed, and  they  were  of  course,  far  from  land,  a  new  scene 
took  place,  which  frustrated  for  a  time  the  bounty  of  the 
government  and  the  skill  of  the  commander.  Under  the 
cloak  of  fidelity,  a  mutiny  had  been  forming  of  a  very  de- 
termined and  extensive  nature;  and  so  well  had  the  muti- 
neers disguised  their  intention,  that  not  one  but  those  who 
were  in  the  plot  had  the  slightest  suspicion  of  it. 

The  known  bravery  of  Lieutenant  Bligh  made  the  muti- 
neers afraid  to  attack  him  awake  ;  and  so,  on  the  morning 
of  the  2Sth  of  April,  he  was  seized  while  asleep  in  his  bed, 
by  a  band  of  armed  traitors,  and  hurried  upon  deck  in  his 
shirt;  and,  on  coming  there,  he  found  the  master,  the  gun- 
ner, one  of  the  master's  mates,  and  Nelson  the  botanist, 
who  had  been  with  him  under  Cook,  confined  in  the  fore 
hatchway,  and  guarded  by  sentinels.  The  launch  was 
hoisted;  and  such  individuals  as  the  mutineers  did  not  like, 
were  ordered  to  quit  the  ship,  and  forced  if  they  refused 
or  hesitated.  Eighteen  individuals  out  of  the  forty-six  re- 
mained true  to  the  commander;  and  one  of  them,  Mr. 
Samuel,  the  clerk,  contrived  to  save  Mr.  Bligh's  commission 
and  journals;  but  he  failed  in  attempting  to  procure  Bligh's 
surveys,  drawings,  and  remarks  during  fifteen  years,  which 
were  exceedingly  valuable,  and  the  time-keeper.  Four  of 
the  men,  who  kept  their  allegiance,  were  detained  by  the 
mutineers  contrary  to  their  wishes.  The  cause  of  this  sin- 
gular mutinj-,  for  which  none  of  the  usual  motives  could  very 
well  account,  could  not  with  certainty  be  known;  but  it  was 
generally  supposed  that  the  instigator  was  Mr.  Christian, 
one  of  the  master's  mates.  Bligh  himself  says,  in  his  most 
interesting  account  of  this  voyage  and  mutiny,  "It  will 
naturally  be  asked  what  could  be  the  cause  of  this  revolt? 
In  answer,  I  can  onlj^  conjecture  that  the  mutineers  had 
flattered  themselves  with  the  hope  of  a  happier  life  among 
the  Otaheitans  than  they  could  possibly  enjoy  in  England." 

Thus,  after  they  had  made  certain  of  the  successful  termi- 
nation of  an  enterprise  which  was  looked  upon  with  a  great 
deal  of  interest,  both  in  a  scientific  and  economical  point  of 
view,  Bligh  was  disappointed — and  he  and  his  faithful  as- 
sociates were  sent  adrift  upon  the  wide  ocean,  in  an  open 
boat,  with  only  an  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  of  bread,  a  few 
pieces  of  pork,  a  little  wine  and  rum,  a  quadrant  and  com- 
pass, and  a  few  other  implements  of  navigation.     But  they 


were  undaunted,  and  they  were  skilful;  and  though  they 
had  hard  weather  to  contend  with,  they  reached  Tofoa, 
one  of  the  Friendly  Islands.  But  as  the  people  there  were 
as  treacherous,  though  not  quite  so  successful  in  their 
treachery,  as  their  former  shipmates,  they  again  put  to  sea, 
and  stood  for  New  Holland,  which  they  reached  in  safety; 
rested  for  a  little,  and  got  a  supply  of  provisions.  From 
New  Holland  they  again  sailed  in  the  direction  of  the 
Eastern  Archipelago ;  and,  after  suffering  the  greatest 
fatigue,  being  exposed  to  the  full  action  and  vicissitudes  of 
the  elements,  and  forced  for  some  time  to  bear  famine, 
they  reached  the  Dutch  settlement  of  Coupang,  in  the  isl- 
and of  Timor,  without  the  loss  of  one  individual  by  disease; 
though  they  had  traversed  at  least  five  thousand  miles  of  sea. 
Nay,  so  ardent  was  Bligh  as  a  seaman,  that,  amid  all  those 
perils,  he  was  occupied  in  making  some  very  valuable  ob- 
servations. 

The  Dutch  governor  of  Coupang  showed  them  every  at- 
tention; and,  from  the  care  that  was  taken  of  them,  twelve 
were  enabled  to  return  to  England.  Though  the  adventure 
had  failed,  every  body  was  disposed  to  bestow  all  praise  on 
the  adventurer;  and  he  was  promoted  to  the  rank  of  cap- 
tain, and  appointed  to  the  command  of  his  ilajesty's  ship 
Providence,  in  order  to  repeat  the  voyage. 

The  Providence,  with  the  Assistant,  a  small  ship  in  com- 
pany, sailed  on  the  3d  of  August,  179L  His  instructions 
were  to  procure  the  bread-fruit  trees  for  the  West  Indies, 
and,  on  his  return,  to  examine  the  passage  between  the  north 
of  New  Holland  and  New  Guinea — which,  in  his  former 
voyage  in  the  Bounty,  he  had  been  the  first  to  navigate. 

On  the  9th  of  April,  1792,  they  reached  Otaheite;  and, 
by  the  17th  of  July,  they  were  ready  to  leave  the  island, 
having  on  board  twelve  hundred  and  eighty-one  tubs  and 
pots  of  plants,  all  in  the  finest  condition.  There  was  no 
mutiny  on  this  voyage;  but  the  passage  between  New  Hol- 
land and  New  Guinea  was  dangerous;  and  it  was  the  2d  of 
October  before  the  captain  reached  his  old  friends  at  Cou- 
pang. He  remained  there  for  a  week,  replacing  with  plants 
from  that  island  those  that  had  died  on  the  voyage;  and 
then  he  came  to  the  Atlantic  by  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope, 
which  he  contrived  to  pass  so  closely  as  never  to  have  a 
lower  temperature  than  sixty-one  degrees  of  Fahrenheit. 

On  the  17th  of  September,  he  anchored  at  St.  Helena, 
collected  there  a  number  of  trees,  and  among  others  the 
akee ;  and,  leaving  twenty-three  bread-fruits,  and  some 
other  valuable  plants,  he  sailed,  and  reached  St.  Vincent  on 
the  23d  of  January,  1793 — where  he  left,  with  Dr.  Ander- 
son, the  superintendent  of  the  Botanical  Garden,  three 
hundred  and  thirty  three  bread-fruit  trees,  and  two  hundred 
and  eleven  fruit  trees  of  other  kinds,  receiving  at  the  same 
time  nearly  five  hundred  tropical  plants  for  the  Botanical 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


Garden  at  Kew.  From  St.  Vincent,  Captain  Bligh  sailed 
for  Jamaica,  where  he  left  three  hundred  and  forty-seven 
bread-fruits,  and  two  hundred  and  seventy-six  others,  which 
were  a  selection  of  all  the  finest  fruits  of  the  east.  Some 
of  the  plants  were  also  left  on  the  island  of  Grand  Cayman; 
and  the  ships  finally  came  to  the  Downs  on  the  2d  of  August, 
1793. 

But,  after  all  the  peril,  hardship,  and  expense  thus  in- 
curred, the  bread-fruit  tree  has  not,  hitherto,  at  least,  an- 
swered the  expectations  that  were  entertained.  The  ba- 
nana is  more  easily  and  cheaply  cultivated,  comes  into 
bearing  much  sooner  after  being  planted,  bears  more  abun- 
dantly, and  is  better  relished  by  the  negroes.  The  mode 
of  propagating  the  bread-fruit  is  not,  indeed,  difficult;  for 
the  planter  has  only  to  lay  bare  one  of  the  roots,  and  mound 
it  with  a  spade,  and  in  a  short  space  a  shoot  comes  up, 
which  is  soon  fit  for  removal. 

Europeans  are  much  fonder  of  the  bread-fruit  than  ne- 
groes. They  consider  it  as  a  sort  of  dainty,  and  use  it 
either  as  bread  or  in  pudding.  When  roasted  in  the  oven, 
the  taste  of  it  resembles  that  of  a  potatoe,  but  it  is  not  so 
mealy  as  a  good  one. 


DECEMBER. 


Nature  is  stripped  of  all  her  summer  drapery.  Her  ver- 
dure, her  foliage,  her  flowers  have  all  vanished.  The  sky 
is  filled  with  clouds  and  gloom,  or  sparkles  only  with  a 
frosty  radiance.  The  earth  is  spongy  with  wet,  rigid  with 
frost,  or  buried  in  snows.  The  winds  that  in  summer 
breathed  gently  over  nodding  blooms,  and  undulating  grass, 
swaying  the  leafy  boughs  with  a  pleasant  murmur,  and 
wafting  perfumes  all  over  the  world,  now  hiss  like  serpents, 
or  howl  like  wild  beasts  of  the  desert;  cold,  piercing,  and 
cruel.  Every  thing  has  drawn  as  near  as  possible  to  the 
centre  of  warmth  and  comfort.  The  farmer  has  driven 
his  flocks  and  cattle  into  sheltered  home  inclosures,  where 
they  may  receive  from  his  provident  care,  that  food  which 
the  earth  now  denies  them;  or  into  the  farm-yard  itself, 
where  some  honest  Giles  piles  their  cratches  plentifully 
with  fodder.  The  labourer  has  fled  from  the  field  to  the 
barn,  and  the  measured  strokes  of  his  flail  are  heard  daily 
from  morn  till  eve.  It  amazes  us,  as  we  walk  abroad,  to 
conceive  where  can  have  concealed  themselves  the  infinite 
variety  of  creatures  that  sported  through  the  air,  earth,  and 
waters  of  summer.  Birds,  insects,  reptiles,  whither  are 
they  all  gone?  The  birds  that  filled  the  air  with  their  mu- 
sic, the  rich  blackbird,  the  loud  and  cheerful  thrush,  the 


linnet,  lark,  and  goldfinch,  whither  have  they  crept.'  The 
squirrel  that  played  his  antics  on  the  forest  tree;  and  all 
the  showy  and  varied  tribes  of  butterflies,  moths,  dragonflies, 
beetles,  wasps,  and  warrior-hornets,  bees,  and  cockchafers, 
whither  have  they  fled  ?  Some,  no  doubt,  have  lived  out 
their  little  term  of  being,  and  their  bodies,  lately  so  splen- 
did, active,  and  alive  to  a  thousand  instincts,  feelings,  and 
propensities,  are  become  part  and  parcel  of  the  dull  and 
, wintry  soil;  but  the  greater  portion  have  shrunk  into  the 
hollows  of  trees  and  rocks,  and  into  the  bosom  of  their 
mother  earth  itself,  where,  with  millions  of  seeds  and  roots, 
and  buds,  they  live  in  the  great  treasury  of  Nature,  ready 
at  the  call  of  a  more  auspicious  season,  to  people  the  world 
once  more  with  beauty  and  delight. 

As  in  the  inferior  world  of  creatures,  so  is  it  with  man. 
The  wealthy  have  vacated  their  country  houses,  and  congre- 
gated in  the  great  Babylon  of  pleasure  and  dissipation;  fami- 
lies are  collected  around  the  social  hearth,  where  Christmas 
brings  his  annual  store  of  frolic  and  festivities;  and  the 
author,  like  the  bee,  withdrawn  to  his  hive,  revels  amid  the 
sweets  of  his  summer  gathering.  It  is  amusing  to  imagine 
what  a  host  of  pens  are  at  this  moment  in  motion,  in  sundry 
places  of  this  little  island!  In  splendid  libraries,  furnished 
with  every  bodily  comfort,  and  every  literarj'  and  scientific 
resource,  when  the  noble  or  popular  author  fills  the  sheet 
which  the  smile  of  the  bibliopole  and  reader  awaits,  and 
almost  anticipates;  in  naked  and  ghastly  garrets  when  the 
"poor-devil-author"  scrawls  wilh  numbed  fingers  and  a 
shivering  frame,  what  will  be  coldly  received,  and  as  quickly 
forgotten  as  himself;  in  pleasant  boudoirs,  at  rose-wood  desks, 
where  lady-fingers  pen  lady-lays;  in  ten  thousand  nooks 
and  recesses  the  pile  of  books  is  growing,  under  which, 
shelves,  booksellers,  and  readers,  shall  groan,  ere  many 
months  elapse.  Another  season  shall  come  round,  and  all 
these  leaves,  like  those  of  the  forest,  shall  be  swept  away, 
leaving  only  those  of  a  few  hardy  laurels  untouched.  But 
let  no  one  lament  them,  or  think  that  all  this  "labour  under 
the  sun,"  has  been  in  vain.  Literary  tradesmen  have  been 
indulged  in  speculation;  critics  have  been  employed;  and 
authors  have  enjoyed  the  excitement  of  hope,  the  enthu- 
siasm of  composition,  the  glow  of  fancied  achievement. 
And  all  is  not  lost; 

Tlie  following  year  another  race  supplies, 
They  fall  successive,  and  successive  rise. 


The  heavens  present  one  of  the  most  prominent  and 
splendid  beauties  of  winter.  The  long  and  total  absence  of 
the  sun's  light,  and  the  transparent  purity  of  a  frosty  at- 
mosphere, give  an  apparent  elevation  to  the  celestial  con- 
cave, and  a  rich  depth  and  intensity  of  azure,  in  which  the 


AND  A5IERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


stars  burn  with  resplendent  beauty;  the  galaxy  stretches  its 
albescent  glow  athwart  the  northern  sky,  and  the  moon  in 
her  monthly  track  sails  amongst  the  glittering  constellations 
with  a  more  queenly  grace;  sometimes  without  the  visita- 
tion of  a  single  cloud,  and,  at  others,  seeming  to  catch  from 
their  wind-winged  speed  an  accelerated  motion  of  her  own. 
It  is  a  spectacle  of  which  the  contemplative  eye  is  never 
weary;  though  it  is  one,  of  all  others,  which  fills  the  mind 
with  feelings  of  the  immensit}'  of  the  universe,  the  tremen- 
dous power  of  its  Creator,  and  of  the  insignificance  of  self. 
A  breathing  atom,  a  speck  even,  upon  the  surface  of  a 
world  which  is  itself  a  speck  in  the  universal  world,  we 
send  our  imagination  forth  amongst  innumerable  orbs,  all 
stupendous  in  magnitude,  all  swarming  with  existence, 
vainly  striving  to  reach  the  boundaries  of  space,  till,  aston- 
ished and  confounded,  it  recoils  from  the  hopeless  task, 
aching,  dazzled,  and  humbled  in  the  dust.  What  a  weary 
sense  attends  the  attempt  of  a  finite  being  to  grasp  infinity! 
Space  beyond  space!  space  beyond  space  still!  There  is 
nothing  for  the  mind  to  rest  its  wearied  wing  upon,  and  it 
shrinks  back  into  its  material  cell,  in  adoration  and  humilit}-. 
Such  are  the  feelings  and  speculations  which  have  attended 
the  human  spirit  in  all  ages,  in  contemplating  this  magnifi- 
cent spectacle.  David  has  beautifully  expressed  their  ef- 
fect upon  him;  and  there  is  a  paper  in  the  Spectator,  Vol. 
viii.  No.  565,  which  forms  an  admirable  commentary  upon 
his  eloquent  exclamation.  The  awful  vastness  of  the  power 
of  the  Diety,  evinced  in  the  scenes  which  night  reveals,  is 
sure  to  abase  the  pride  of  our  intellect;  and  to  shake  the 
overgrowth  of  our  self-love;  but  these  influences  are  not 
without  their  benefit;  and  the  beauty  and  beneficence  equal- 
ly conspicuous  in  every  object  of  creation,  whether  a  world 
or  an  atom,  comes  to  our  aid,  to  re-assure  our  confidence, 
and  to  animate  us  with  the  proud  prospect  of  an  eternity  of 
still  perfecting  and  ennobling  existence. 

But  the  year  draws  to  a  close.  I  see  symptoms  of  its 
speedy  exit.  I  see  holly  and  missletoe  in  the  market,  in 
every  house  that  I  visit,  in  every  window  that  I  pass,  ex- 
cept in  those  of  tiie  Society  of  Friends,  who,  though  they 
like  old  fashions,  pay  little  regard  to  old  customs,  but  treat 
them  as  the  "beggarly  elements"  of  worn  out  supersti- 
tions. They  are  philosophically  right,  but  poetically 
wrong.  I  see  the  apprentice  boys  going  along  the  streets, 
from  house  to  house,  distributing  those  little  annual  remem- 
brances called  Christmas-bills;  and  my  imagination  follows 
these  tyroes  in  trade,  who  now  fill  its  lowest  offices,  and 
would  think  more  of  a  slide  or  a  mince-pie  than  of  all 
the  "wealth  in  Lunnun  bank,"  through  a  few  more 
years,  and  beholds  them  metamorphosed  into  grave,  impor- 
tant, and  well-to-do  citizens;  or,  as  it  may  chance  to  them, 
shrunk  into  the  thin,  shrivelled,  and  grasshopper-like 
4A 


beings  that  care  and  disappointment  convert  men  into. 
And  this  awakes  in  me  the  consciousness  of  how  little  we 
have  thought  of  man  and  his  toils,  and  anxieties,  as  from 
day  to  day,  and  month  to  month,  we  have  gone  wandering 
over  the  glorious  face  of  the  earth,  drinking  in  its  peaceful 
pleasures;  and  yet  what  a  mighty  sum  of  events  has  been 
consummated! — what  a  tide  of  passions  and  affections  has 
flowed, — what  lives  and  deaths  have  alternately  arrived — 
what  destinies  have  been  fixed  for  ever,  while  we  have 
loitered  on  a  violet-path,  and  watched  the  passing  splen- 
dours of  the  Seasons.  Once  more  our  planet  has  completed 
one  of  those  journeys  in  the  heavens  which  perfect  all  the 
fruitful  changes  of  its  peopled  surface,  and  mete  out  the 
few  stages  of  our  existence;  and  every  day,  every  hour  of 
that  progress  has,  in  all  her  wide  lands,  in  all  her  million 
hearts,  left  traces  that  eternity  shall  behold. 

\et  if  we  have  not  been  burthened  with  man's  cares,  we 
have  not  forgotten  him,  but  many  a  time  have  we  thanked 
God  for  his  bounties  to  him,  and  rejoiced  in  the  fellowship 
of  our  nature.  If  there  be  a  scene  to  stir  in  our  souls  all 
our  thankfulness  to  God,  and  all  our  love  for  man,  it  is  that 
of  Nature.  When  we  behold  the  beautiful  progression  of 
the  Seasons,  when  we  see  how  leaves  and  flowers  burst  forth 
and  spread  themselves  over  the  earth  by  myriads  in  spring, 
— how  summer  and  autumn  fill  the  world  with  loveliness 
and  fragrance,  with  corn  and  wine,  it  is  impossible  not  to 
feel  our  hearts,  "breathe  perpetual  benedictions"  to  the 
great  Founder  and  Provider  of  the  world,  and  warm  with 
sympathetic  affection  towards  our  own  race,  for  whom  he 
has  thought  fit  to  prepare  all  this  happiness.  There  is  no 
time  in  which  I  feel  these  sentiments  more  strongly  than 
when  I  behold  the  moon  rising  over  a  solitary  summer  land- 
scape. The  repose  of  all  creatures  of  the  earth  makes 
more  sensibly  felt  the  incessant  care  of  him  who  thus  sends 
up  "his  great  light  to  rule  the  night,"  and  to  shine  softly 
and  silently  above  millions  of  sleeping  creatures,  that  take 
no  thought  for  themselves. 

Such  are  the  thoughts  which  flow  into  the  spirit  of  the 
solitary  man  as  he  walks  through  the  pure  retreats  of  Na- 
ture— such  have  been  mine  as  I  have  gone  on,  from  day  to 
day,  building  up  this  "Book  of  the  Seasons:"  and  in  the 
spirit  of  thankful  happiness  and  "goodwill  to  all,"  I  thus 
bring  it  to  an  end. — Howitt's  Book  of  the  Seasons. 


PRESERVATION  OF  FRUIT  TREES  FROM  HARES. 
According  to  M.  Bus,  young  fruit  trees  may  be  preserv- 
ed from  the  bites  of  hares,  by  rubbing  them  with  fat,  and 
especially  hog's  lard.  Apple  and  pear  trees  thus  protected, 
gave  no  signs  of  the  attacks  of  these  animals,  though  their 
foot  marks  were  abundant  on  the  snow  beneath  them. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


CORVUS  COR  AX. 

[Plate  XXIV.] 

Gmel.  Syst.  I, p.  364. — Lid.  Orn.p.  150. — LeCorheau, 
Briss.  2.  p.  8,  et  t;ar.— Buff.  Ois.  3,  p.  13.  P/.  ml. 
495. — Temm.  Mzra.  d'Orn.  p.  107. — Raven,  Lath. 
Gen.  ly^rn.  i.  /».  367.  Id.  sup.  p.  74. — Penn.  Brit. 
Zool.  No.  74.  Arct.  Zool.  No.  134.— Shaw,  Gen. 
Zool.  7,  p.  341. — Bewick,  1,  p.  100. — Low,  Fauna 
Orcadensis,  p.  45. — Philada.  Museum. 

"A  KNOWLEDGE  of  this  Celebrated  bird  has  been  handed 
down  to  us  from  the  earliest  ages;  and  its  history  is  almost 
coeval  with  that  of  man.  In  the  best  and  most  ancient  of  all 
books,  we  learn,  that  at  the  end  of  forty  days,  after  the  great 
flood  had  covered  the  earth,  Noah,  wishing  to  ascertain 
whether  or  not  the  waters  had  abated,  sent  forth  a  Raven, 
which  did  not  return  into  the  ark.*  This  is  the  first  notice 
that  is  taken  of  this  species.  Though  the  Raven  was  de- 
clared unclean  by  the  law  of  Moses,  yet  we  are  informed, 
that  when  the  prophet  Elijah  provoked  the  enmity  of  Ahab, 
by  propiiesying  against  him;  and  hid  himself  by  the  brook 
Cherish,  the  Ravens  were  appointed  by  Heaven  to  bring  him 
his  daily  food.t  The  colour  of  the  Raven  gave  rise  to  a 
similitude  in  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  eclogues,  which  has 
been  perpetuated  in  all  subsequent  ages,  and  which  is  not  less 
pleasing  for  being  trite  or  proverbial.  The  favourite  of  the 
royal  lover  of  Jerusalem,  in  the  enthusiasm  of  affection, 
thus  describes  the  object  of  her  adoration,  in  reply  to  the 
following  question: 

'  What  is  thy  beloved  more  than  another  beloved,  0 
thou  fairest  among  women  ? '  '  My  beloved  is  white  and 
ruddy,  the  chiefest  among  ten  thousand.  His  head  is  as 
the  most  fine  gold,  his  locks  are  bushy,  and  black  as  a 
Raven. 'I 

The  above  mentioned  circumstances  taken  into  conside- 
ration, one  should  suppose  that  the  lot  of  the  subject  of  this 
chapter  would  have  been  of  a  different  complexion  from 
what  history  and  tradition  inform  us  is  the  fact.  But  in 
every  country,  we  are  told,  the  Raven  is  considered  an 
omnious  bird,  whose  croakings  foretell  approaching  evil; 
and  many  a  crooked  beldam  has  given  interpretation  to  these 
oracles,  of  a  nature  to  infuse  terror  into  a  whole  community. 
Hence  this  ill-fated  bird,  immemorially,  has  been  the  inno- 
cent subject  of  vulgar  detestation. 


*  Gen.  viii.  7. 

t  Song  of  Solomon,  v.  9, 10, 11. 


1  Kings,  .wii.  5,  G. 


Augury,  or  the  art  of  foretelling  future  events  by  the 
flight,  cries,  or  motion  of  birds,  descended  from  the  Chal- 
deans to  the  Greeks,  thence  to  the  Etrurians,  and  from  them 
it  was  transmitted  to  the  Romans.*  The  crafty  legislators 
of  these  celebrated  nations,  from  a  deep  knowledge  of  hu- 
man nature,  made  superstition  a  principal  feature  of  their 
religious  ceremonies;  well  knowing  that  it  required  a  more 
than  ordinary  policy  to  govern  a  multitude,  ever  liable  to 
the  fatal  influences  of  passion;  and  who,  without  some  time- 
ly restraints,  would  burst  forth  like  a  torrent,  whose  course 
is  marked  by  wide-spreading  desolation.  Hence,  to  the 
purposes  of  polity  the  Raven  was  made  subservient;  and  the 
Romans  having  consecrated  it  to  Apollo,  as  to  the  god  of 
divination,  its  flight  was  observed  with  the  greatest  solem- 
nity; and  its  tones  and  inflections  of  voice  were  noted  with 
a  precision,  which  intimated  a  belief  in  its  infallible  pre- 
science. 

But  the  ancients  have  not  been  the  only  people  infected 
with  this  species  of  superstition:  the  moderns,  even  though 
favoured  with  the  light  of  Christianity,  have  exhibited  as 
much  folly,  through  the  impious  curiosity  of  prying  into  fu- 
turity, as  the  Romans  themselves.  It  is  true  that  modern 
nations  have  not  instituted  their  sacred  colleges  or  sacer- 
dotal orders,  for  the  purposes  of  divination;  but  in  all  coun- 
tries there  have  been  self-constituted  augurs,  whose  interpre- 
tations of  omens  have  been  received  with  religious  respect 
by  the  credulous  multitude.  Even  at  this  moment,  in  some 
parts  of  the  world,  if  a  Raven  alight  on  a  village  church, 
the  whole  fraternity  is  in  an  uproar;  and  Heaven  is  impor- 
tuned, in  all  the  ardour  of  devotion,  to  avert  the  impending 
calamity. 

The  poets  have  taken  advantage  of  this  weakness  of  hu- 
man nature,  and  in  their  hands  the  Raven  is  a  fit  instrument 
of  terror.  Shakspeare  puts  the  following  malediction  into 
the  mouth  of  his  Caliban: 

"As  wicked  dew  as  ere  my  mother  brush'd 
With  Raven's  feather,  from  unwholesome  fen 
Drop  on  you  both!  "t 

*  That  the  science  of  augury  is  very  ancient,  we  learn  from  the  Hebrew 
lawgiver,  who  prohibits  it,  as  well  as  every  other  kind  of  divination.  Deut. 
chap,  xviii.  The  Romans  derived  their  knowledge  of  augury  chiefly  from 
the  Tuscans  or  Etrurians,  who  practised  it  in  the  earliest  times.  This  art 
was  known  in  Italy  before  the  time  of  Romulus,  since  that  prince  did  not 
commence  the  building  of  Rome  till  he  had  taken  the  auguries.  The  suc- 
cessors of  Romulus,  from  a  conviction  of  the  usefulness  of  the  science,  and 
at  the  same  time  not  to  render  it  contemptible,  by  becoming  too  familiar,  em- 
ployed the  most  skilful  augurs  from  Etruria,  to  introduce  the  practice  of  it 
into  their  religious  ceremonies.  And  by  a  decree  of  the  senate,  some  of  the 
youth  of  the  best  families  in  Rome  were  annually  sent  into  Tuscany,  to  be 
instructed  in  this  art.     Vide  Ciceron.  de  Divin.     Also  Calraet,  and  tlie  abb£ 

t  Tempest,  act  i.  scene  2. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


The  ferocious  wife  of  Macbeth,  on  being  advised  of  the 
approach  of  Duncan,  whose  death  she  had  conspired,  thus 
exclaims: 

"The  Raven  himself  is  hoarse, 
That  croaks  the  fatal  entrance  of  Duncan 
Under  my  battlements  !  "* 

The  Moor  of  Venice  says: 

"  It  comes  o'er  my  memory, 
As  doth  the  Raven  o'er  the  infected  house, 
Boding-  to  all."t 

The  last  quotation  alludes  to  the  supposed  habits  of  this 
bird  flying  over  those  houses  which  contain  the  sick,  whose 
dissolution  is  at  hand,  and  thereby  announced.  Thus  Mar- 
lowe, in  the  Jew  of  Malta,  as  cited  by  Malone: 

"  The  sad  presaging  Raven  tolls 

The  sick  man's  passport  in  her  hoUow  beak. 

And  in  the  shadow  of  silent  night 

Doth  shake  contagion  from  her  sable  wing." 

But  it  is  the  province  of  philosophy  to  dispel  those  illu- 
sions which  bewilder  the  mind,  by  pointing  out  the  simple 
truths  which  Nature  has  been  at  no  pains  to  conceal,  but 
which  the  folly  of  mankind  has  shrouded  in  all  the  obscu- 
rity of  mystery. 

The  Raven  is  a  general  inhabitant  of  the  United  States, 
but  is  more  common  in  the  interior.  On  the  lakes,  and 
particularly  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Falls  of  the  river 
Niagara,  they  are  numerous;  and  it  is  a  remarkable  fact, 
that  where  they  so  abound,  the  common  Crow,  C.  corone, 
seldom  makes  its  appearance;  being  intimidated,  it  is  con- 
jectured, by  the  superior  size  and  strength  of  the  former,  or 
by  the  antipathy  which  the  two  species  manifest  towards 
other.  This  I  had  an  opportunity  of  observing  myself,  in 
a  journey  during  the  months  of  August  and  September, 
along  the  lakes  Erie  and  Ontario.  The  Ravens  were  seen 
every  day,  prowling  about  in  search  of  the  dead  fish,  which 
the  waves  are  continually  casting  ashore,  and  which  aflbrd 
them  an  abundance  of  a  favourite  food ;  but  I  did  not  see  or 
hear  a  single  Crow  within  several  miles  of  the  lakes;  and 
but  a  very  few  through  the  whole  of  the  Gennesee  country. 

The  food  of  this  species  is  dead  animal  matter  of  all  kinds, 
not  excepting  the  most  putrid  carrion,  which  it  devours  in 
common  with  the  Vultures;  worms,  grubs,  reptiles  and 
shell-fish,  the  last  of  which,  in  the  manner  of  the  Crow,  it 
drops  from  a  considerable  height  in  the  air,  on  the  rocks,  in 
order  to  break  the  shells;  it  is  fond  of  birds  eggs,  and  is 


Act  i.  scene  5. 


t  Otliello,  act  iv.  scene  1. 


often  observed  sneaking  around  the  farm-house,  in  search 
of  the  eggs  of  the  domestic  poultry,  which  it  sucks  with 
eagerness;  it  is  likewise  charged  with  destroying  young 
ducks  and  chickens,  and  lambs  which  have  been  yeaned  in 
a  sickly  state.  The  Raven,  it  is  said,  follows  the  hunters  of 
deer  for  the  purpose  of  falling  heir  to  the  offal;*  and  the 
huntsmen  are  obliged  to  cover  their  game,  when  it  is  left  in 
the  woods,  with  their  hunting  frocks,  to  secure  it  from  this 
thievish  connoisseur,  who,  if  he  have  an  opportunity,  will 
attack  the  region  of  the  kidneys  and  mangle  the  saddle 
without  ceremony. 

Buflfon  says,  that  "the  Raven  plucks  out  the  eyes  of 
Buffaloes,  and  then  ^.rn?^  on  the  back,  fears  off'  the  flesh 
deliberately;  and  what  renders  the  ferocity  more  detestable, 
it  is  not  incited  by  the  cravings  of  hunger,  but  by  the  appe- 
tite for  carnage;  for  it  can  subsist  on  fruits,  seeds  of  all  kinds, 
and  indeed  may  be  considered  an  omnivorous  animal." 
This  is  mere  fable,  and  of  a  piece  with  many  other  absurdi- 
ties of  the  same  agreeable,  but  fanciful  author. 

This  species  is  found  almost  all  over  the  habitable  globe. 
We  trace  it  in  the  north  from  Norway  to  Greenland,  and 
hear  of  it  in  Kamtschatka.  It  is  common  every  where  in 
Russia  and  Siberia,  except  within  the  Arctic  circle;  and  all 
through  Europe.  Kolben  enumerates  the  Raven  among  the 
birds  of  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope;  De  Grandpre  represents 
it  as  numerous  in  Bengal,  where  they  are  said  to  be  protected 
for  their  usefulness;  and  the  unfortunate  La  Perouse  saw 
them  at  Bale  de  Castries,  on  the  east  coast  of  Tartary; 
likewise  at  Port  des  Francois;  58°  37'  north  latitude,  and 
139°  50'  west  longitude;  and  at  Monterey  Bay,  north  Cali- 
fornia. The  English  circumnavigators  met  with  them  at 
Nootka  Sound;  and  at  the  Sandwich  Islands,  two  being 
seen  in  the  village  of  Kakooa;  also  at  Owhyhee,  and  sup- 
posed to  be  adored  there,  as  they  were  called  Eatoos.  Our 
intrepid  American  travellers,  under  the  command  of  Lewis 
and  Clark,  shortly  after  they  embarked  on  the  river  Colum- 
bia, saw  abundance  of  Ravens,  which  were  attracted  thither 
by  the  immense  quantity  of  dead  salmon  which  lined  the 
shores.  They  are  found  at  all  seasons  in  Hudson's  Bay; 
are  frequent  in  Mexico;  and  it  is  more  than  probable  that 
they  inhabit  the  whole  continent  of  America. 

The  Raven  measures,  from  the  tip  of  the  bill  to  the  end 
of  the  tail,  twenty-six  inches,  and  is  four  feet  in  extent;  the 
bill  is  large  and  strong,  of  a  shining  black,  notched  near  the 
tip,  and  three  inches  long,  the  sestaceous  feathers  which 
cover  the  nostrils  extend  half  its  length;  the  eyes  are  black; 
the  general  colour  is  a  deep  glossy  black,  with  steel-blue  re- 
flections; the  lower  parts  are  less  glossy;  the  tail  is  rounded, 

»  This  is  the  case  in  those  parts  of  the  United  States  where  the  deer  are 
hunted  without  dogs:  where  these  are  employed  they  are  generally  rewarded 
with  the  offal. 


280 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


and  extends  about  two  inches  beyond  the  wing:  the  fea- 
thers on  the  breast  have  a  curly  appearance;  the  legs  are  two 
inches  and  a  half  in  length,  and,  with  the  feet,  are  strong 
and  black;  the  claws  are  long. 

This  bird  is  said  to  attain  to  a  great  age;  and  its  plumage 
to  be  subject  to  change,  from  the  influence  of  years  and  of 
climate.  It  is  found  in  Iceland  and  Greenland  entirely 
white. 

The  voice  of  the  Raven  is  exceedingly  harsh,  and  croak- 
ing, and  is  uttered  chiefly  when  flying,  and  may  be  heard 
at  the  distance  of  nearly  one  mile,  on  a  clear,  still  day. 

The  Raven  was  the  constant  attendant  of  Lewis  and 
Clark's  party,  in  their  long  and  toilsome  journey.  During 
the  winter,  at  Fort  Mandan,  they  were  observed  in  im- 
mense numbers,  notwithstanding  the  cold  was  so  excessive, 
that,  on  the  seventeenth  of  December,  1S04,  the  thermo- 
meter of  Fahrenheit  stood  at  45°  below  0. 

The  Raven  is  a  bird  found  in  every  region  of  the  world; 
strong  and  hardy,  he  is  uninfluenced  by  the  change  of  the 
weather;  and  when  other  birds  seem  numbed  with  cold,  or 
pining  with  famine,  the  Raven  is  active  and  healthy,  busily 
employed  in  prowling  for  prey,  or  sporting  in  the  coldest 
atmosphere.  As  the  heats  of  the  line  do  not  oppress  him, 
so  he  bears  the  cold  of  the  polar  countries  with  equal  indif- 
ference. He  is  sometimes,  indeed,  seen  milk-white,  and 
this  may  probably  be  the  effect  of  the  rigorous  climates  of 
the  north. 

When  the  Raven  is  taken  as  a  domestic,  he  has  many 
qualities  that  renders  him  extremely  amusing.  Busy,  in- 
quisitive, and  impudent,  he  goes  every  where,  affronts  and 
drives  off  the  dogs,  plays  his  pranks  on  the  poultry,  and  is 
particularly  assiduous  in  cultivating  the  goodwill  of  the 
cook  maid,  who  seems  to  be  the  favourite  of  the  family. 
But  then,  with  the  amusing  qualities  of  a  favourite,  he  often 
also  has  the  vices  and  defects.  He  is  a  glutton  by  nature, 
and  a  thief  by  habit.  He  does  not  confine  himself  to  petty 
depredations  on  the  pantry  or  the  larder;  he  soars  at  more 
magnificent  plunder;  at  spoils  which  he  can  neither  exhibit 
nor  enjoy;  but  which,  like  a  miser,  he  rests  satisfied  with 
having  the  satisfaction  of  sometimes  visiting  and  contem- 
plating in  secret.  A  piece  of  money,  a  tea-spoon,  or  a 
ring,  are  always  tempting  baits  to  his  avarice;  these  he  will 
slily  seize  upon,  and,  if  not  watched,  will  carry  to  his  fa- 
vourite hole. 

In  his  wild  state,  the  Raven  is  an  active  and  greedy  plun- 
derer. Nothing  comes  amiss  to  him.  If  in  his  flights  he 
perceives  no  hope  of  carrion,  (and  his  scent  is  so  exquisite, 
that  he  can  smell  it  at  a  vast  distance),  he  then  contents  him- 
self with  more  unsavoury  food,  fruits,  insects,  and  the  acci- 
dental deserts  of  a  dunghill.  This  bird  chiefly  builds  its  nest 


in  trees,  and  lays  five  or  six  eggs  of  a  pale  green  colour, 
marked  with  small  brownish  spots. 

Notwithstanding  the  injury  these  birds  do  in  picking  out 
the  eyes  of  sheep  and  lambs,  when  they  find  them  sick  and 
helpless,  a  vulgar  respect  is  paid  them  as  being  the  birds 
that  fed  the  prophet  Elijah  in  the  wilderness.  This  pre- 
possession in  favour  of  the  Raven  is  of  very  ancient  date, 
as  the  Romans  themselves,  who  thought  the  bird  ominous, 
paid  it,  from  motives  of  fear,  the  most  profound  venera- 
tion. One  of  these  that  had  been  kept  in  the  temple  of 
Castor,  as  Pliny  informs  us,  flew  down  into  the  shop  of  a 
tailor,  who  took  much  delight  in  the  visits  of  his  new  ac- 
quaintance. He  taught  the  bird  several  tricks;  but  particu- 
larly to  pronounce  the  name  of  the  Emperor  Tiberius  and 
the  whole  royal  family.  The  tailor  was  beginning  to  grow 
rich  by  those  who  came  to  see  this  wonderful  Raven,  till 
an  envious  neighbour,  displeased  at  the  tailor's  success, 
killed  the  bird,  and  deprived  the  tailor  of  his  future  hopes 
of  fortune.  The  Roman's,  however,  took  the  poor  tailor's 
part;  they  punished  the  man  who  offered  the  injury,  and 
gave  the  Raven  all  the  honours  of  a  magnificent  entertain- 
ment. 

Birds  in  general  live  longer  than  quadrupeds;  and  the 
Raven  is  said  to  be  one  of  the  most  long-lived  of  the  num- 
ber. Some  of  them  have  been  known  to  live  near  a  hun- 
dred years.  This  animal,  indeed,  seems  possessed  of  those 
qualities  that  generally  produce  longevity,  namely,  a  good 
appetite,  and  great  exercise." 


TO  BLOW  EGGS  FOR  PRESERVATION 

IN  CABINETS. 

A  READV  method  of  effecting  this  purpose,  is  to  take  a  tube 
either  of  glass  or  metal,  one  end  of  which  is  drawn  out,  or 
fashioned  to  a  point,  (the  tube  being  large  enough  to  hold 
the  contents  of  the  egg.)  and  having  made  a  pin  hole  at  the 
side  of  the  egg,  large  enough  to  admit  the  point  of  the  pipe, 
(one  sixth  part  of  an  inch)  apply  the  mouth  to  the  large  end, 
and  suck  as  hard  as  possible.  The  contents  of  the  egg  will 
immediately  rise  into  the  tube.  Having  blown  them  out 
into  a  basin,  suck  a  little  clean  water  into  the  tube  and  blow 
it  into  the  egg;  shake  the  egg  for  about  a  minute,  and  draw 
out  the  water  again  into  the  tube,  and  it  will  leave  the  egg 
perfectly  clean.  The  common  dropping  tube  of  the  chem- 
ist, which  has  a  ball  in  the  middle  of  it,  answers  this  pur- 
pose extremely  well. — Loudon'' s  Mag.  of  Nat.  History, 
March,  1831. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


AN  ADVENTURE. 


How  direful  are  the  effects  of  revenge.- 


It  was  on  as  beautiful  an  autumnal  day,  as  ever  ushered 
in  the  Indian  summer,  that  I  made  an  excursion  after  game 
among  a  groupe  of  mountains,  or  rather  on  a  link  in  the  great 
chain  of  the  Alleghany  range,  which  runs  in  a  north  eastern 
direction  in  that  part  of  Pennsylvania,  which  bounds  the 
New  York  line.  I  had  been  a  resident  there  for  some  years  ; 
and,  when  leisure  from  my  arduous  avocations  permitted, 
I  always  indulged  myself  with  the  favourite  amusement  of 
hunting. 

I  said  the  day  was  beautiful.  When  I  arose  from  my 
bed,  the  stars  were  yet  twinkling  in  the  azure  space  above, 
while  feebly,  but  most  beautifully,  the  sparkling  frost  which 
spread  the  earth  as  a  woolly  carpet,  reflected  back,  like  my- 
riads of  gems,  its  borrowed  light  to  the  heavens;  not  a 
breath  of  air  disturbed  the  fading  leaves  of  the  wood,  and  the 
reigning  silence  was  broken  only  by  the  monotonous  tone 
of  a  neighbouring  cascade,  while  the  pearly  horizon  of  the 
east,  betokened  the  approach  of  that  hour  which  was  to  give 
life  and  activity  to  a  slumbering  world;  my  heart  was  light, 
and  nerved  with  youthful  vigor,  and  the  healthfulness  of  tlie 
opening  morn,  I  felt  as  though  I  could  wield  my  rifle 
with  unerring  aim.  Ere  the  sun  arose  I  eat  my  breakfast; 
and  after  giving  all  necessary  orders  for  the  day,  to  the  man 
at  my  saw-mill,  I  accoutred  myself  for  hunting  and  sallied 
forth  alone  among  the  hills  in  search  of  game.  Bending 
my  way  towards  some  salt  springs  which  were  witliin  a  tew 
miles  of  my  dwelling,  I  kept  the  mountain  ridge  with  the 
expectation  of  encountering  some  large  game,  until  I  found 
it  necessary  to  descend  to  that  part  of  the  valley  which  con- 
tained the  springs.  A  few  years  previous  to  the  above  pe- 
4B 


riod,  these  springs  were  resorted  to  by  herds  of  deer  and 
other  animals,  for  the  purpose  of  licking  the  saline  sedi- 
ment which  every  where  adhered  to  the  roots  of  those 
trees,  bushes,  and  stones  that  were  wasiied  by  the  salt  water 
while  flowing  down  the  vale,  in  consequence  of  which, 
hunters  for  many  miles  around,  made  frequent  excursions 
to  this  spot,  in  order  to  lie  in  ambush  for  such  animals  as 
might  approach  this  salt-lick,  until  at  last  it  had  become  so 
notorious,  and  frequented  by  so  many  hunters,  that  a  visit 
here  was  sometimes  attended  with  danger,  and  no  longer 
scarcely  with  success.  This  spot  had  been  no  doubt  for 
ages,  and  until  within  a  few  years,  a  place  of  resort,  not 
only  for  deer,  but  for  other  animals  of  the  ruminant  order, 
such  as  elk,  moose,  &c.  but  as  the  country  became  popu- 
lated by  settlers,  no  traces  of  these  animals  (except  the  deer) 
were  left,  other  than  here  and  there  a  horn  of  an  elk  or 
moose  was  found, and  preserved  by  the  neighbours,and  placed 
over  their  fire  places,  as  relics  of  days  gone  by.  Here,  too, 
perhaps  in  ages  past,  the  Mastodon  in  his  majesty  and  strength 
strode  with  giant  step,  uninterrupted  in  his  course,  the  mon- 
arch and  terror  of  this  then  unknown  wilderness. 

I  liad  frequently  in  my  hunting  excursions,  steered  my 
course  for  these  springs  in  the  same  track  which  I  took  on 
the  above  period,  and  mostly  killed  one  or  two  deer  before 
I  reached  my  destined  spot,  but  always  depended  more  on 
my  success  when  laying  in  ambush  behind  my  favourite  logs 
near  the  spring,  where  I  had  for  years  killed  many  deer. 

The  season,  however,  of  watchfulness  commenced  usually 
at  twilight  in  the  evening,  as  these  animals  seldom  wander- 
ed before  that  period,  and  as  moonlight  nights  were  prefer- 
able for  these  ruminants  to  browse,  and  visit  the  salt  licks, 
it  was  not  only  more  interesting  to  lay  in  ambuscade  for 
them,  but  insured  a  greater  degree  of  success,  and  it  frequently 
happened,  that  when  they  visited  the  springs  undisturbed. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


they  would  remain  within  a  short  circle  of  this  spot,  feeding 
on  the  buds  and  variety  of  herbs  about  it,  until  the  approach 
of  dawn,  when,  instead  of  departing  for  other  places,  they 
would  make  their  lair  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood  un- 
til the  next  evening.  Under  these  circumstances,  I  often 
very  cautiously  approached  the  favoured  spot,  and  surprised 
several  deer  during  the  day  time,  and  seldom  returned 
without  killing  one,  and  sometimes  more — hence  my  rea- 
son for  making  it  an  invariable  rule  during  my  excursions 
to  visit  the  springs.  At  the  salt  lick  there  was  a  particular 
spot  more  visited  than  all  others  by  the  deer,  and  into 
this,  within  a  circle  of  twelve  feet,  I  had,  in  five  successive 
seasons,  shot  eighty-three  deer,  most  of  which  fell  within 
these  bounds;  and  in  order  to  allow  for  the  variable  winds, 
and  prevent  the  animals  from  scenting  me,  I  had  three  logs 
in  different  positions,  behind  which  I  would  ensconse  my- 
self and  there  await  the  approach  of  the  unsuspecting  game. 
On  the  day  of  my  present  adventure  I  had  kept  the  summit 
of  the  mountain  for  several  miles,  without  success,  for  a  breeze 
had  arisen  shortly  after  sun  rise  which  rattled  through  the 
trees,  and  made  it  unfavourable  for  hunting  on  high  ground, 
and  indeed  the  only  wild  animal  I  saw,  was  a  bear,  that  was 
feeding  on  another  ridge  across  a  deep  valley,  and  entirely 
out  of  reach  of  my  rifle  shot;  I  therefore  descended  the 
mountain  in  an  oblique  direction,  towards  the  salt  springs 
which  I  soon  reached,  and  after  finding  others  had  pre- 
ceded me  here,  I  left  the  spot  for  another  mountain  on 
which  I  intended  to  pass  the  remainder  of  the  day,  gradu- 
ally working  my  way  home.  This  mountain  was  covered 
with  chesnut  trees,  and  here  it  was,  that  I  caught  a  glimpse 
of  the  bear,  from  the  other  ridge,  and  found  he  had  disap- 
peared but  a  short  time  previous  to  my  arrival  on  this  moun- 
tain; I  followed  his  track  for  three  miles,  for  chesnuts  lay 
in  abundance  on  the  ground,  and  bears,  like  hogs,  root  up 
the  leaves  in  search  of  food  beneath,  and  it  no  doubt  had 
lingered  about  here  eating  its  food  until  my  near  approach 
gave  warning  of  its  danger;  this  I  could  discover,  as  the 
leaves  having  been  wet  by  the  melted  frost  on  the  top,  a 
path  could  be  traced  where  the  bear  in  running  had  turned 
the  dried  part  of  the  leaves  uppermost.  I  quickened  my 
pace  along  the  mountain  side  and  around  the  turn  of  the 
mountain,  with  tiie  hopes  of  surprising  the  bear,  and  after  a 
rapid  chase  for  the  distance  above  mentioned,  all  proved  fruit- 
less and  I  relinquished  further  pursuit.  Warm  with  this  exer- 
cise, and  somewhat  fatigued,  I  descended  the  mountain  side, 
and  took  my  seat  beside  a  stream  of  water  which  gently  wash- 
ed the  base  of  the  mountain,  and  emptied  itself  in  the  head 
waters  of  the  Susquehannah. 

It  was  now  mid-day,  and  the  sun  shone,  unobstructed  by 
clouds,on  the  beautiful  sheet  of  transparentwater,  which  flow- 
ed its  murmuring  ripples  at  my  feet.  This  stream  was  the  out- 


let of  a  small  but  beautiful  lake,  which  lay  embedded  be- 
tween two  lofty  mountains,  crowned  with  the  variegated 
tints  of  the  autumn,  while  on  the  unruffled  bosom  of  the  lake, 
as  on  a  glassy  mirror  the  dazzling  brightness  of  the  noon-day 
sun,  glistened  with  peculiar  lustre,  and  gave  additional  in- 
terest and  beauty  to  the  golden  crowned  hills,  which  tow- 
ered their  lofty  summits  toward  the  heavens. 

I  sat  eating  chesnuts,  with  my  rifle  by  my  side,  and  amus- 
ing myself  with  the  shoals  of  little  minnows,  which  kept  edg- 
ing their  noses  against  the  current;  I  would  chew  my  chesnuts 
into  crumbs,  throw  to  them,  and  be  delighted  at  their  grace- 
ful dexterity,  in  securing  the  scattered  fragments  as  they  float- 
ed swiftly  down  the  stream — then  again  I  watched  the  eagles' 
flight,  as  with  outstretched  pinions,  he  soared  majestically 
above  the  hills,  with  that  independence  and  grandeur  which 
rank  him  king  of  birds — and  then  I  raised  my  eyes  to  the 
mountain  tops,  and  wondered  whether  these  were  among 
the  everlasting  hills,  which  nature,  in  her  chaotic  move- 
ments, raised  from  the  waters,  and  stamped  onthem  a  dura- 
tion coequal  with  time.  While  thus  communing  with  na- 
ture, my  mind  was  insensibly  borne  from  the  object  which 
first  led  me  from  my  home;  for  what  reflecting  mind  can 
behold  the  surrounding  beauties  in  the  wilds  of  the  forest, 
which  are  intruded  on  his  sight  whithersoever  he  turns  his 
head,  without  having  imparted  to  his  feelings  the  serenity 
and  sublimity,  which  ever  there  abide  during  the  autumnal 
season  of  the  year;  the  only  noise  which  strikes  the  ear,  is 
the  gurgling  brook,  which  unceasingly  runs  its  troubled 
course,  or  the  hollow  roaring  of  some  distant  waterfall, 
sometimes  loud,  and  again  dying  gentlj^  into  stillness,  as 
the  passing  zephyrs  may  vary  or  waft  it  to  the  ear;  or  the 
mournful  sounds  of  the  northern  breezes  when  agitating  the 
forests,  and  whirling  the  sear  and  yellow  leaves  from  their 
parent  stems,  and  singing  mournfully,  the  requiem  of  the 
departing  beauties  of  the  vegetable  world;  who,  amid  all 
these,  solitary  and  reflecting,  but  may  be  led  on  by  a  train  of 
thought,  until  his  mind  is  involved  in  that  deep  contemplation 
from  which  it  requires  more  than  ordinary  means  to  extricate 
it.  This  was  my  state,  until  I  was  aroused  from  my  reverie 
by  that  which  comprises  the  chief  part  of  my  adventure. 

I  had  remained  sitting  on  a  fallen  tree,  whose  branches 
extended  considerably  into  the  water,  for  perhaps  an  hour 
and  a  half,  when  of  a  sudden  I  heard  a  rustling  among  the 
leaves  on  the  mountain  immediately  above  my  head,  which 
at  first  was  so  distant,  that  I  thought  it  merely  an  eddy  of 
the  wind,  whirling  the  leaves  from  the  ground,  but  it  in- 
creased so  rapidly,  and  approached  so  near  the  spot  where- 
I  sat,  that  I  instinctively  seized  my  rifle,  ready  in  a  moment 
to  meet  any  emergency  which  might  ofler. 

That  part  of  the  mountain  where  I  was  seated,  was  cover- 
ed with  laurel  and  other  bushes,  and  owing  to  the  density 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


of  this  shrubbery,  I  could  not  discover  an  object  more  than 
ten  yards  from  me:  this,  as  will  afterwards  appear,  afford- 
ed me  protection;  at  any  rate  it  conduced  to  my  success. 
The  noise  among  the  leaves  now  became  tremendous,  and 
the  object  approached  so  near,  that  I  distinctly  heard  an  un- 
natural, grunting  noise,  as  if  from  some  animal  in  great  dis- 
tress. At  length,  a  sudden  plunge  into  the  water  not  more 
than  twenty  yards  from  me,  uncovered  to  my  view  a  full 
grown  black  Bear,  intent  upon  nothing  but  its  endeavours 
to  press  through  the  water  and  reach  the  opposite  shore. 
The  water  on  an  average  was  not  more  than  two  feet  deep, 
which  was  not  sufficient  for  the  animal  to  swim,  and  too 
deep  to  run  through;  consequently  the  eagerness  with 
which  the  bear  pressed  through  the  water,  created  such  a 
splashing  noise,  as  fairly  echoed  through  the  hills.  With- 
out scarcely  a  thought,  I  brought  my  rifle  to  my  shoulder 
with  the  intention  of  shooting,  but  before  I  could  sight  it  cor- 
rectly, the  bear  rushed  behind  a  rock  which  shielded  it  from 
my  view;  this  gave  me  a  momentary  season  for  reflection,  and 
although  I  could  have  killed  the  bear  so  soon  as  it  had  pass- 
ed the  rock,  I  determined  to  await  the  result  of  such  extra- 
ordinary conduct  in  this  animal;  for  I  was  wonder  struck 
at  actions,  which  were  not  only  strange,  but  even  ludicrous: 
there  not  appearing  then,  any  cause  for  them.  The  mystery 
however  was  soon  unravelled. 

The  stream  of  water  was  not  more  than  ten  rods  in 
width,  and  before  the  bear  was  two-thirds  across  it,  I  heard 
another  rustling,  on  the  mountain  side,  among  the  leaves, 
as  if  by  jumps,  and  a  second  plunge  into  the  water  con- 
vinced me  that  the  bear  had  good  cause  for  its  precipita- 
tion; for  here,  pressing  hard  at  its  heels,  was  a  formidable 
antagonist  in  an  enormous  Panther,  which  pursued  the  bear 
with  such  determined  inveteracy,  and  appalling  growls,  as 
made  me  shudder,  as  with  a  chill.  I  was  completely  taken 
by  surprise,  and  aroused  from  my  reverie,  relaxed  in 
nerve,  and  with  that  lassitude  of  feeling  as  when  struggling 
in  a  dream  with  some  hideous  monster,  from  which  you 
endeavour  to  escape,  and  by  the  energies  of  your  mind 
awake,  and  feel  unnerved  and  helpless  by  the  excitement, 
and  transit  from  one  state  of  feeling  to  another:  so  was  it 
with  me.  I  had  been  calmly  enjoying  the  solitude  of  the 
place,  and  beguiling  one  fleeting  hour  in  the  enjoyment  of 
its  beauties,  and  my  state  of  feeling  was  as  contrary  as 
possible  to  what  it  should  have  been,  to  enable  me  to  en- 
counter successfully  a  scene  like  that  just  described;  but 
had  my  feelings  been  other  than  they  were,  I  might  have 
•laid  the  panther  sprawling  in  the  water,  and  relieved 
the  bear  from  the  horrors  of  a  death,  which  he  seemed  well 
aware  awaited  him,  without  the  possibility  of  escape,  but 
in  my  surprise  and  stupefaction  of  the  moment,  I  was  de- 
terred from  doing  that  which  would  have  prevented  me 


from  witnessing  a  scene  I  never  can  forget,  and  which  de- 
monstrated with  such  terrible  eflects,  the  revengful  disposi- 
tion of  an  infuriated  monster. 

The  panther  plunged  into  the  water  not  more  than  eigh- 
teen or  twenty  yards  from  me,  and  had  it  been  but  one-third 
of  that  distance,  I  feel  convinced,  I  would  have  been  unheed- 
ed by  this  animal,  so  intent  was  it  on  the  destruction  of  the 
bear.  It  must  indeed  be  an  extraordinary  case  which  will 
make  a  panther  plunge  into  water,  as  it  is  a  great  character- 
istic of  the  feline  species  always  to  avoid  water,  unless 
driven  to  it,  either  by  necessity  or  desperation;  but  here 
nature  was  set  aside,  and  some  powerful  motive  predomi- 
nated in  the  passions  of  this  animal,  which  put  all  laws  of 
instinct  at  defiance,  and  unlike  the  clumsy  hustling  of  the 
bear  through  the  water,  the  panther  went  with  bounds  of 
ten  feet  at  a  time,  and  ere  the  former  reached  the  opposite 
shore,  the  latter  was  midway  of  the  stream.  This  was  a  mo- 
ment of  thrilling  interest,  and  that  feeling  so  common  to 
the  human  breast,  when  the  strong  is  combating  with  the 
weak,  now  took  possession  of  mine,  and  espousing  the  cause 
of  the  weaker  party,  abstractedly  from  every  consideration 
of  which  was  in  the  wrong,  I  could  not  help  wishing  safety 
to  the  bear,  and  death  to  the  panther,  and,  under  the  im- 
pulse of  these  feelings,  I  once  more  brought  my  rifle  to  my 
shoulder,  with  the  intention  of  shooting  the  panther  through 
the  heart,  but  in  spite  of  myself,  I  shrunk  from  the  eflbrt, 
— perhaps  it  was  well  I  reserved  my  fire,  for  had  I  only 
wounded  the  animal,  I  might  have  been  a  victim  to  its  fe- 
rocity. 

So  soon  as  the  bear  finding  there  was  no  possibility  of 
escape  from  an  issue  with  so  dreaded  an  enemy,  than,  on 
reaching  the  opposite  bank  of  the  stream,  it  shook  the  water 
from  its  hair  like  a  dog,  and  ran  about  fifteen  feet  on  the 
bank,  and  laid  directly  on  its  back  in  a  defensive  posture; 
this  it  had  scarcely  done,  when  the  panther  reached  the  wa- 
ter's edge,  and  then  with  a  yell  of  vengeance,  it  made  one 
bound,  and  sprang  with  outstretched  claws  and  spittino- like 
a  cat,  immediately  on  the  bear,  which  lay  in  terror  on  the 
ground,  ready  to  receive  its  antagonist;  but  the  contest  was 
soon  at  an  end.  Not  more  easily  does  the  eagle  rend  in 
sunder  its  terror  stricken  prey,  than  did  the  enraged  pan- 
ther tear  in  scattered  fragments,  the  helpless  bear ;  it  appear- 
ed but  the  work  of  a  moment,  and  that  moment  was  one  of 
unrelenting  vengeance,  for  no  sooner  did  the  panther  ali"-ht 
on  its  victim,  than  with  the  most  ferocious  yells,  it  planted 
its  hinder  claws  deep  in  the  entrails  of  the  bear,  and  by  a 
few  rips,  tore  its  antagonist  in  pieces.  Although  the  bear 
was  full  grown  it  must  have  been  young,  and  in  want  of  en- 
ergy, for  it  was  so  overcome  with  dread,  as  not  to  be  able  to 
make  the  least  resistance. 

Satisfied  in  glutting  its  vengeance,  the  panther  turned 


284  THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 

from  the  bear,  and  came  directly  to  the  water's  edge  to  drink,  To  me,  the  cause  of  this  battle  was,  and  must  forever 
and  allay  the  parching  thirst  created  by  so  great  excite-  remain  a  mystery.  I  spent  much  time  on  the  spot  endeav- 
ment,  after  which  it  looked  first  down  and  then  up  the  ouring  to  account  for  the  cause,  and  the  only  good  reason 
stream,  as  though  it  sought  a  place  to  recross,  that  it  might  I  can  give,  I  obtained  by  inference  and  circumstantial  evi- 
avoid  the  water,  and  then,  as  if  satiated  with  revenge,  and     dence, 


enjoying  its  victory,  stood  twisting  and  curling  its  tail  like 
a  cat,  and  then  commenced  licking  itself  dry.  The  animal 
was  now  within  thirty-five  yards  of  me,  and  seeing  no  pros- 
pect of  its  recrossing  the  stream,  I  took  rest  for  my  rifle  on 
a  projecting  limb  of  the  tree  on  which  I  still  sat,  and  fired 
directly  at  the  panther's  heart.  The  moment  I  discharged 
my  rifle,  the  monster  made  a  spring  about  six  feet  perpen- 
dicularly, with  a  tremendous  growl,  which  reverberated 
among  the  rocks,  and  fell  in  the  same  spot  whence  it  sprang, 
with  all  its  legs  extended,  and  lay  in  this  situation,  half 
crouched,  rocking  from  side  to  side,  as  if  in  the  dizziness  of 
approaching  death.  I  saw  plainly  that  my  fire  was  fatal, 
but  I  had  too  much  experience  to  approach  this  enemy,  un- 
til I  could  no  longer  discover  signs  of  life.  I  therefore  re- 
loaded my  rifle,  and  with  a  second  shot,  I  pierced  immedi- 
ately behind  the  ear;  its  head  then  dropped  between  its 
paws,  and  all  was  quiet.  My  next  difiiculty  was  to  cross 
the  stream,  as  I  did  not  like  to  wade  it,  unless  every  other 
means  to  gain  the  opposite  shore  should  fail;  I  accordingly 
walked  a  considerable  distance  down  the  stream,  and  was 
fortunate  enough  to  cross,  by  means  of  a  fallen  tree,  against 
which  a  large  quantity  of  drift-wood  had  lodged,  and  form- 
ed a  complete  bridge.  On  my  approach  to  the  dead  animals, 
I  felt  an  involuntary  restraint  against  going  too  near  them, 
for  although  I  had  the  plainest  demonstration  that  both  were 
dead,  yet  the  scene  of  strife  I  had  witnessed,  its  unexpected, 
fatal,  and  sudden  termination,  had  so  involved  my  feelings 
in  tremor,  that  I  could  not  divest  myself  of  a  cowardly  fear, 
which  indeed  too  many  feel  under  less  terrifying  circum- 
stances, but  have  not  candour  enough  to  acknowledge  it. 

Perhaps,  too,  my  success  in  destroying  the  panther  con- 
tributed to  the  excitement.  However,  after  a  short  inter- 
val, my  calmness  and  nerve  returned,  and  I  took  a  survey  of 
the  late  belligerents.  I  gave  but  a  momentary  glance  at  the 
panther,  wliich  lay  perfectly  dead  on  its  belly,  with  the  legs 
and  claws  fully  extended,  and  griped  firmly  in  the  earth. 
The  bear  lay  about  twenty-five  feet  up  the  bank,  dead,  yet 
bleeding,  and  with  its  entrails  torn  completely  from  the  ab- 
domen, presented  a  most  pitiful  appearance,  and  displayed, 
with  horrid  aspect,  the  ferocious  energies  of  its  powerful  an- 
tagonist, when  roused  to  madness  and  revenge;  but  how  in- 
ferior in  all  their  terrors,  are  the  natural  strength  and  ferocity 
of  the  most  dreaded  wild  animals,  to  the  physical  and  men- 
tal powers  of  man.  In  the  present  instance,  the  victor  had 
breathed  but  a  few  pulsations  after  the  strife,  ere,  by  the 
wonderful  invention  of  the  rifle,  it  was  hushed  in  death 
forever. 


On  examining  the  panther,  no  marks  of  violence  appeared, 
except,  where  my  rifle  balls  had  passed  completely  through, 
within  a  foot  of  each  other,  hut  on  turning  the  animal  on  its 
back,  I  discovered  it  to  be  a  female,  and  a  mother,  and,  by 
the  enlargement  of  her  teats,  had  evidently  been  suckling 
her  j'oung.  From  this  circumstance,  I  supposed  the  bear 
had  made  inroads  upon  her  lair,  and  more  than  probable 
destroyed  her  kittens.  I  was  the  more  convinced  of  this, 
from  the  fact,  that  I  never  knew  from  my  own  experience, 
nor  could  I  gather  from  the  oldest  hunters  among  my  acquain- 
tance, an  instance  wherein  a  panther  and  a  hear  came  in  colli- 
sion with  each  other,  or  enter  into  deadly  strife;  and  again, 
no  circumstance  but  the  above,  would  be  sufficient  to  awaken 
that  vindictive  perseverance  in  the  passions  of  a  panther, 
which  would  lead  to  the  annihilation  of  so  formidable  an  ani- 
mal as  a  bear.  Under  these  views,  I  feel  satisfied  that  my 
inference  was  correct. 

It  was  now  nearly  five  o'clock,  and  the  sun  was  sinking 
fast  behind  the  western  hills,  and  the  valleys  already  began 
to  wear  a  sombre  aspect  from  the  broad  shadows  of  the 
mountains.  I  had  upwards  of  seven  miles  to  retrace  my 
steps,  and  one-third  of  this  distance  was  up  a  rugged  and 
lofty  mountain;  and  bidding  adieu  to  the  manes  of  these 
departed  worthies,  and  leaving  them  where  many  a  warrior 
has  been  left — on  the  field  of  battle — I  sought  my  home 
with  rapid  strides,  satisfied  that  as  a  hunter,  I  had  passed 
an  eventful  day;  and  although  I  might  have  killed  on  my 
return  to  my  habitation,  towards  the  approach  of  evening 
several  deer,  yet  after  my  success,  and  the  magnitude  of  my 
adventure,  they  appeared  so  innocent,  and  trifling  in  my 
sight,  that  I  thought  it  unworthy  of  my  skill  to  shoot  them, 
and  therefore  let  them  pass;  and  my  mind  being  so  filled 
with  the  scenes  of  the  day,  that  time  and  distance  passed 
unheeded,  and  shortly  after  dark  I  reached  my  home,  wel- 
comed by  a  watchful  and  solicitous  family.  M. 
Philadelphia,  Dec.  1831. 


A  PARTY  of  gentlemen,  in  Belchertown,  Mass.  held  a  hunt 
recently,  for  squirrels,  rabbits,  woodpeckers,  and  owls. — 
The  party  was  divided  into  two  sets  of  twenty  each.  Af- 
ter the  day's  hunt  the  game  was  counted,  and  the  result  of 
the  sport  announced.  One  side  counted  433,  and  expected 
to  win,  but  it  was  soon  announced  that  the  other  side  count- 
ed precisely  the  same  number;  of  course  the  supper,  &c. 
which  seems  to  have  been  the  prize  contended  for,  was 
paid  for  mutually. — Jim.  Tw-f  Reg. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


TO  A  WILD  DEER. 

A  FINE  live  Deer  was  run  down  recently  in  the  borough 
of  Columbia,  Lancaster  county.  It  is  supposed  that  it  was 
driven  in  by  some  of  the  neighbouring  dogs,  and  when 
taken  was  much  exhausted. 

Why  didst  thou  leave  thy  native  woods, 

Child  of  the  forest!  here  to  roam, 
And  quit  the  murmur  of  the  floods 

That  revel  in  thy  mountain  home? 
Why  did'st  thou  thus  resign  thy  glen 
To  die  amid  the  haunts  of  men  ? 

There's  freedom  on  the  rocks  and  hills, 

A  liberty  that  nature  gives. 
Whose  very  inspiration  fills 

The  heart  of  every  thing  that  lives. 
And  seems  to  throw  a  noble  air 
O'er  every  form  that  wanders  there. 

Nay,  e'en  the  very  trees  that  rear 

Their  branches  to  the  summer  sky, 
In  their  wind-shaken  leaves  appear 

To  have  a  sense  of  majesty, 
And  lift  their  heads  as  though  they  felt 
They  grew  in  scenes  where  freedom  dwelt. 

There  couldst  thou  lift  thy  antlered  brow, 
And  pace  the  wilds  in  conscious  pride. 

Climbing  the  steeps  where  wild  flowers  grow, 
Or  plunging  in  the  torrent's  tide, 

Daring  alike  to  scale  or  swim. 

With  eye  unmoved  and  dauntless  limb. 

The  crags  and  peaks  were  all  thine  own, 
The  rivers  and  the  rocks  were  thine, 

Thou  wert  a  monarch  on  thy  throne, 

Treading  the  cliffs  where  sun-beams  shine; 

The  monarch  of  the  hills  wert  thou — . 

Chief  of  the  proud  and  antlered  brow! 

Along  the  misty  valley's  shade 

Thy  footstep  roamed  at  break  of  morn. 

The  echoes  of  thy  native  glade 

Ne'er  heard  the  clang  of  hound  or  horn. 

The  blackbird's  note,  the  wolf's  loud  bay 

Were  all  that  met  thee  on  thy  wa}'. 

Wild  nature  was  around  thee  there 
In  all  its  rich,  romantic  grace; 
4  C 


It  seemed  as  though  the  very  air 

Partook  the  spirit  of  the  place; 
Whate'er  it  was  in  other  eyes. 
To  thee  it  seemed  a  paradise. 

Then  why  did'st  thou  forsake  thy  wild. 
Amid  the  haunts  of  men  to  stray? 

The  rocks  that  on  thy  hills  are  pil'd 

Are  not  more  hard — more  bleak  than  they. 

Thou'st  come  from  sunny  glen  and  sky. 

By  human  hearths  at  last  to  die! 

Like  thee,  poor  deer!  when  genius  leaves 
The  quiet  home  it  once  had  known. 

And  from  the  ingrate  world  receives 
The  meed  of  cold  neglect  alone, — 

Like  thee  it  turns  away  in  pain, 

And  wishes  for  the  shades  again. 

C.  W.  T. 


Gentlemen: 

I  observed  in  one  of  your  Nos.  of  the  Cabinet,  an  account 
of  an  attempt  to  domesticate  the  Partridge.  If  an  attempt 
of  a  similar  kind,  though  not  of  equal  success,  made  by  my- 
self, with  the  comrnon  Quail,'^  during  the  fall  and  winter  of 
1S30,  is  of  any  service  to  your  work,  you  have  my  entire 
liberty  to  use  it.  I  had  been  passing  a  few  weeks  in  the 
country,  about  fifteen  miles  from  this  city,  and  was  out  one 
morning  in  pursuit  of  woodcock,  when  my  dog  came  upon 
a  dead  point,  in  an  open  meadow,  upon  a  bird  not  twelve 
feet  beyond  him.  Surprised  at  the  apparent  tameness  or 
stupidity  of  the  bird,  I  approached  with  a  view  of  taking  it, 
if  possible,  alive;  and  I  was  able  to  advance  within  about 
six  feet  of  her,  before  she  flew.  I  then  perceived  it  was  a 
Quail  upon  her  nest,  which  contained  fifteen  young,  appa- 
rently not  more  than  a  day  old.  I  thought  this  would  be  an 
excellent  opportunity  of  making  an  experiment  I  had  long 
wished  for — of  domesticating  the  Quail;  and,  therefore,  not- 
withstanding my  compunctions  of  conscience  in  thus  bereav- 
ing the  distressed  mother  of  her  offspring,  I  took  them  up, 
nest  and  all,  and  carried  them  home,  accompanied  by  their 
mother,  who  was  continually  uttering  the  most  violent  out- 
cries, as  if  to  reproach  me  with  my  cruelty.  When  I  arrived 
at  home  I  put  the  nest,  with  all  its  contents,  in  a  large  cage, 
and  suspended  it  from  a  limb  of  an  apple  tree,  out  of  the 
way  of  cats  and  other  enemies  of  the  feathered  tribe.  I 
then  retired  to  a  distance,  leaving  the  door  of  the  cage  open, 
for  the  purpose  of  observing,  whether  the  mother  would 

»  One  is  the  Quail  of  the  North,  and  the  other  the  Partridge  of  the  South. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


enter  to  feed  her  young,  or  desert  them  entirely;  the  mo- 
ment I  was  out  of  sight,  she  flew  on  the  top  of  the  cage, 
looking  down  through  the  wires  with  the  greatest  apparent 
agony,  and  making  every  attempt  to  get  through;  at  last, 
having  succeeded  in  finding  the  door,  she  entered,  and 
having  caressed  them  for  a  few  moments,  she  flew  oS"  for 
food,  but  soon  returned,  and  became  apparently  well  pleased 
with  her  new  residence,  where  she  remained  the  whole 
of  that  day  and  night,  and  part  of  the  next;  then  she  was 
seen  no  more;  whether  she  was  killed,  or  sacrificed  her  off- 
spring to  the  fears  for  her  own  safety,  I  know  not,  but  after 
waiting  till  night-fall,  without  seeing  or  hearing  from  her, 
I  took  the  fifteen  young  Quails  under  my  own  care.  They 
bore  the  closest  possible  resemblance  to  chickens,  and  had 
all  the  manners  of  chickens,  the  same  chirp,  and  in  a  day  or 
two  the  same  way  of  pecking  when  let  into  the  yard ; 
their  food,  for  the  first  day  or  two,  was  given  them  in  small 
pills  of  the  size  of  a  pea,  and  consisted  of  dough;  in  three 
days  from  the  time  they  were  taken,  they  fed  themselves  in 
the  manner  of  fowls;  one,  the  largest,  and  apparently  the 
oldest,  acting  as  leader  or  father  of  the  flock,  which  they  fol- 
lowed as  young  chickens  do  a  mother.  Their  extreme  youth 
when  taken,  and  the  manner  of  their  bringing  up,  had  ob- 
literated all  recollection  of  their  mother,  and  destroyed  all 
fear  of  man,  they  ran  to  me  at  the  sound  of  my  voice  as 
they  would  to  the  call  of  their  own  parent.  I  kept  them  now 
in  a  box  lined  with  raw  cotton,  they  grew  and  prospered 
wonderfully,  being  extremely  lively,  and  always  washing 
and  dressing  themselves  when  the  sun  was  warm,  and  being 
much  tamer  than  young  chickens.  I  kept  them  in  this  way 
for  six  weeks,  till  the  nights  became  quite  cool,  when  it 
being  impossible  to  supply  the  natural  warmth  of  their 
mother  by  cotton,  one  cold  night  killed  eight  of  them. 
I  then  placed  the  box  on  a  warm  stove,  which  would  pre- 
serve the  heat  very  well  during  the  day  and  the  early  part 
of  the  night,  but  it  being  impossible  to  keep  it  exactly  regu- 
lated all  night,  the  cold  again  affected  them,  and  one  by  one 
they  died.  If  I  had  taken  them  in  the  spring,  instead  of 
the  fall,  1  have  no  doubt  my  experiment  would  have  suc- 
ceeded. 

With  great  respect, 

ONE  OF  YOUR  SUBSCRIBERS. 
Boston,  Dec.  Idth,  1S31. 


UNITED  BOWMEN. 

JMessrs.  Editors, 

I  have  promised  you  a  notice  for  one  of  your  Nos.  of 
the  annual  meeting  of  the  United  Bowmen,  for  the  purpose 


of  trying  their  skill  in  competition  for  the  prize  of  1831; 
and  you  have  compelled  me  to  keep  that  promise.  I  am 
sorry  for  it,  for  two  reasons;  the  first  is — but  I  must  get  at 
that,  by  giving  you  a  little  incident,  in  the  form  of  a  dia- 
logue, in  which  you  may  consider  the  party  called  Tom  as 
myself 

"  Uncle,  did  you  see  that  star  shoot  just  now? 

No,  my  boy. 

Do  stars  turn  round,  uncle? 

No,  Tom,  the  earth  turns  round. 

Don't  it  turn  round  like  a  top,  uncle? 

Something  like  a  top,  Tom. 

Well,  uncle,  mother  gave  me  a  top  to-day  for  being  at 
the  head  of  the  class." 

Now  its  out;  I  got  the  prize  myself,  and  did  not  know 
how  to  say  so.  So  much  for  the  first;  the  second  is  easy 
enough  to  tell. 

The  shooting  was  so  bad,  that  we  don't  relish  the  idea  of 
its  going  into  print;  to  these  two  reasons  for  reluctance,  a 
word  of  apology  may  be  edged  in,  as  "a  plea  in  mitigation 
of  damages,"  as  our  friend  ^  would  say  in  court;  and 
that  is,  a  prize  shooting  always  results  in  a  worse  display  of 
skill  than  any  other  time.  Allow  me  to  say  for  my  com- 
petitors, while  I  am  apologizing,  that  I  did  not  get  the  prize 
for  shooting  better  than  they  did,  but  because  I  did  not 
shoot  quite  so  bad.  Let  me  also  remark,  that  some  of  the 
gentlemen  engaged  in  this  contest,  had  never  drawn  a  bow 
but  at  one  or  two  practisings,  in  anticipation  of  this  meet- 
ing. Let  this  fact  account  for  the  registry  of  two,  three, 
and  five  hits,  as  reported  hereafter. 

The  report  of  the  captain  of  the  target  for  that  day,  con- 
tains all  of  interest  in  connection  with  the  subject.  I  shall 
copy  it  for  the  information  of  your  readers. 

"In  compliance  with  the  duties  that  have  devolved  on 
me  as  captain  of  the  target,  on  the  twenty-fourth  day  of 
September,  I  proceed  to  lay  before  you  the  result  of  the 
contest  on  that  day.  It  is  the  fourth  annual  meeting  for 
the  purpose  of  testing  the  skill  of  the  members  of  our  asso- 
ciation, and  rewarding  its  successful  demonstration.  I 
cannot  resist  the  expression  of  the  high  degree  of  satisfac- 
tion that  I  have  experienced,  for  three  successive  years,  in 
acting  as  your  captain,  on  a  day  of  so  much  interest  and 
excitement  in  witnessing  the  great  urbanity  of  deportment 
that  has  existed  at  each  of  these  contests;  the  more  remark- 
able in  consequence  of  the  keen  rivalship  so  honourable  to 
zealous  archers.  This  spirit  has  prevailed  so  fully,  that 
the  office  which  I  have  held  has  been  nearly  a  nomi- 
nal one;  that  of  umpire  and  register  altogether  unnecessary, 
and  being  so,  I  judged  it  useless  to  tax  any  of  our  friends 
with  the  apparent  responsibilit_y." 

The  day  selected  for  the  trial  was  ushered  in  by  gentle 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


breezes  from  the  south  west,  attended  by  a  thin  veil  of 
clouds.  The  breeze  died  away  by  two  o'clock,  P.  M. 
leaving  us  the  afternoon  free  alike  from  sun  or  wind. 

The  ground  was  measured,  targets  placed,  ropes  adjust- 
ed, and  all  other  duties  performed,  by  the  various  squads 
detailed  for  those  purposes,  the  roll  called,  and  the  regula- 
tions read  previous  to  three  o'clock,  precisely  at  which 
time  the  shooting  commenced. 

It  is  not  a  little  amusing  to  witness  the  varied  expressions 
of  the  diflerent  individuals,  vvhen  they  take  their  places  on 
the  stand;  their  gentlemanly  deportment,  to  which  I  have 
before  alluded,  prevents  all  further  demonstration  of  their 
feelings  than  that  which  is  evinced  by  the  compressed  or 
quivering  lip,  or  the  bent  brow;  and  towards  the  conclusion 
when  so  much  depends  on  firmness,  the  determination  to 
subdue  the  trembling  of  anxiety,  so  fatal  to  success  in  our 
pleasing  but  difficult  art. 

We  would  not  envy  that  man's  feelings,  though  he  should 
win  the  prize,  who  could  be  insensible  to  the  reflection,  that 
some  heart  in  the  neighbouring  group,  was  then  beating  res- 
ponsive, with  pulsations  more  anxious  than  his  own,  that 
those  bright  eyes  would  follow,  and  fain  direct,  the  quiver- 
ing arrow  as  it  flew,  and  those  lips  that  are  for  us  such  kind 
advocates,  were  then  breathing,  a  gentle  prayer  for  our  suc- 
cess; he  that  could  not  feel  under  such  circumstances,  let 
him  be  for  ever  unblest,  and  let  his  arrow,  like  the  seventh 
bullet  of  the  wild  huntsman,  recoil  upon  himself. 

This  is  not  all  fancy,  for  the  excitement  of  the  occasion 
has,  nearly  in  every  case,  prevented  that  successful  de- 
monstration of  skill,  so  desirable  for  a  prize  contest.  The 
following  is  the  number  and  value  of  the  hits  of  each  com- 
petitor, and  in  the  order  in  which  they  are  enumerated : 


nearest  to  centre. 


79  233 

By  which  it  will  be  seen  that  ^  was  entitled  to  the  first 
prize,  which  was  accordingly  presented  to  him  by   ^ 

The  secondary  prize,  it  will  also  be  seen,  was  won  by 
the  twice  lucky   3 

There  were  but  three  hits  in  the  Gold  during  the  after- 
noon, and,  as  a  curious  coincidence,  let  me  remark,  that 
like  the  last  year  Q  held  his  post  nearest  to  the  centre 
until  late  in  the  afternoon,  when  he  was  displaced,  by  the 


1st 

A 

20  hits  1 

^alue     66 

2 

13     « 

"        41 

3 

5 

6      " 

"         14 

4 

I 

9      « 

"         23 

5 

3 

13      « 

34 

6 

_i 

3      " 

«         11 

7 

9     " 

"        27 

8 

^ 

2     " 

u          4 

9 

1^ 

5      " 

"         13 

same  fortunate  hand  that  had  snatched,  in  the  former  year, 
not  the  CUP  from  his  lip,  but  the  buckle  from  his  belt.* 

The  time  of  shooting  was  two  hours  precisely,  and  the 
distance  eighty  yards. 

It  would  be  jireat  injustice  to  pass  without  notice,  the 
handsome  style  of  the  new  members  of  the  Club,  in  the 
manner  of  discharging  their  arrows;  it  was  difficult  for  those 
that  knew  them  not,  to  say  which  were  the  oldest,  or  which 
the  youngest  archers. 

In  conclusion,  Messrs.  Editors,  let  me,  in  personal  vindi- 
cation, remark,  that  although  I  have  sent  you  the  most  ego- 
tistical communication  you  have  ever  published,  yet  I  am 
really  the  most  modest  man  in  the  Club,  with  a  single  ex- 
ception, and  he  is  the  M. 

Yours,  truly, 

»  Alluding  to  tlie  form  of  the  prizes.  ^^ 


ON  BAD  PRACTICES  AMONG  SPORTSMEN. 

Messrs.  Editors. 

Being  nothing  better  than  aguu?ier,  it  will  hardly  be  ex- 
pected that  I  should  be  much  accustomed  to  writing  moral 
essays;  but  were  that  the  case,  and  my  capability  unques- 
tionable, it  might  still  be  doubted  whether  the  columns  of 
a  work  like  yours,  are  the  most  fit  in  the  world  to  make  an 
exhibition  of  my  talent.  I  am  no  great  lecturer  on  morality; 
nor  do  I  wish  to  be  too  fastidious  in  criticising  the  habits 
and  manners  of  my  brother  sportsmen,  yet  I  cannot  help 
thinking  there  are  some  practices  among  them,  which  might 
be  amended,  and  a  few  perhaps  entirel}'  omitted,  without 
taking  from  their  characters  as  choice  spirits,  or  diminish- 
ing in  any  degree  the  pleasures  of  their  pursuits;  and, 
therefore,  as  in  general  they  have  but  little  morality  in  the 
field,  I  will,  with  your  permission,  give  them  a  smattering 
of  it  in  the  closet. 

It  has  been  said,  and  the  saying  has  been  ten  thousand 
times  quoted  that,  "No  man  is  a  hero  to  his  valet  de  cham- 
bre;"  and  as  I  have  no  pretensions  to  the  character  of  a 
hero,  nor  yet  filled  the  situation  of  a  valet,  (though  heaven 
alone  knows  what  any  of  us  may  come  to),  I  am  unable  to 
vouch  for  the  truth  of  this  doctrine;  but  I  can  certainly  see 
no  reason  why  a  sportsman  should  not  be  a  gentleman 
even  to  his  dog. 

Of  what  use  therefore,  is  it  to  'daimi^  a  dog  for  every 
fault  he  commits?  To  hie  him  on!  to  call  him  back!  or  to 
bring  him  to  the  down  charge!  in  tlie  language  of  a  black- 
guard! And  what  good  purpose  can  it  possibly  answer,  to 
correct  him  for  an  ordinary  error,  in  a  speech  garnished  with 
oaths  of  such  vulgar  grossness,  as  would  disgrace  the  most 
abandoned  of  the  inhabitants  of  Bridewell? 

I  was  once  acquainted  with  an  old  gunner,  who,  though 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


he  laid  no  claim  to  the  refinements  of  gentility,  acted  upon 
such  occasions,  if  not  more  rationally,  at  least  in  a  much  less 
disgusting  manner  than  many  of  our  high  bloods,  and  would- 
be  tip-top  sportsmen.  Whenever  his  dog  behaved  amiss, 
he  would  call  him  in,  and,  taking  him  by  the  ears,  give  them 
a  reasonable  shaking  (ndt  too  hard,  for  he  loved  him  as  the 
apple  of  his  eye)  and  in  a  tone  of  voice  between  anger  and  af- 
fection, address  him  somewhat  after  the  following  manner: 
"  Come  in  here,  Pluto!  why  dont  you  mind?  Here  I've  been 
callingyou  these  ten  minutes!  you  ought  to  know  there  was  no 
game  there!  I  told  you  so  before;  but  you've  got  so  now 
you  wont  mind  me  at  all.  There's  plenty  of  work  for  you 
to  do  where  there's  game,  and  here  you  are  running  about 
where  there  is'nt  a  bird;  tiring  yourself  all  for  nothing; 
and  lame  as  you  are  too.  Do  you  think  your  foot  will  ever 
get  well  if  you  go  on  so?  you  foolish  fellow.  You'll  be 
knock'd  up  before  night,  and  to-morrow  you  wont  be  able 
to  hunt  at  all.  Now  go  along  with  you!  and  mind  what 
you're  about;  or  else  I'll  serve  you  a  good  deal  worse  next 
time,  you'll  see  if  I  dont.      Hie  on,  sir." 

This  simple  hearted  old  man,  to  be  sure  treated  his  dog 
as  though  he  was  a  biped  of  his  family,  reasoning  with  him 
like  a  rational  creature;  and,  for  ought  I  know,  the  animal 
understood  him  well  enough,  too,  for  there  seems  no  rea- 
son why  a  brute  should  not  understand  remonstrance  as  well 
as  low-lived  abuse;  and  I  certainly  think  my  old  friend's 
method  liable  to  less  objection  than  the  other. 

I  know  that  dogs  are  sometimes  unruly,  and  act  in  a 
manner  calculated  to  try  the  patience,  but  such  of  them  as 
do  so  constantly,  are  not  worth  keeping;  and  a  man  had 
better  part  with  a  bad  dog,  than  acquire  a  bad  habit.  If 
gentlemen  will  be  at  more  pains  to  procure  the  best  blooded 
animals,  and  have  them  well  broke  before  they  take  them 
out  for  regular  hunting,  few  occasions  of  exciting  their 
wrath  will  occur,  and  a  great  deal  of  breath  may  be  hus- 
banded for  the  day's  work  which  is  generally  wasted  in 
abusing  their  dogs.  Besides  a  sportsman  ought  never  to  be 
in  a  passion.  Philosophical  coolness  should  characterize 
his  conduct  in  the  field,  particularly  in  relation  to  his  dogs, 
who  are  often  made  unsteady  by  the  violent  manner  in 
which  they  are  corrected  for  errors  real  or  supposed.  I 
say  supposed,  because  it  not  unfrequently  happens,  with 
the  younger  class  of  gunners,  that  the  master  is  more  in  fault, 
than  his  dog.  I  knew  an  instance  of  a  gallant  of  this  stamp, 
swearing  himself  hoarse  at  a  pointer  that  was  out  of  sight, 
when,  upon  advancing  a  few  yards  farther  into  the  cover, 
the  dog  was  discovered  standing  to  a  brace  of  woodcock. 

I  trust,  that  this  admonition  against  the  absurd  and  un- 
gentlemanly  vice  of  swearing,  in  connection  with  sporting 
transactions,  will  be  taken  in  good  part  by  my  fellow-sin- 
ners, (for  I  have  been  a  sad  delinquent  that  way  myself,) 


and  produce  reformation  in  some  of  them;  as  it  will,  by  no 
means,  lessen  their  enjoyments,  and  add  much  to  their 
respectability. 

I  remain,  gentlemen,  yours,  &c. 

D.  J. 
Neiu  York,  July,  1831. 


SAGACITY  OF  BEES. 


The  following  anecdote  is  extracted  from  a  letter  from  a 
farmer  in  Pennsylvania,  to  a  friend  in  England: 

"The  sagacity  of  these  animals,  which  have  long  been 
the  tenants  of  my  farm,  astonishes  me;  some  of  them  seem 
to  surpass  even  men  in  memory  and  sagacity.  I  could  tell 
you  singular  instances  of  that  kind.  What  then  is  this  in- 
stinct which  we  so  debase,  and  of  which  we  are  taught  to 
entertain  so  diminutive  an  idea?  My  bees,  above  all  other 
tenants  of  my  farm,  attract  my  attention  and  respect.  I  am 
astonished  to  see  nothing  exists  but  what  has  its  enemy; 
one  species  pursues  and  lives  upon  the  other.  Unfortu- 
nately our  king  birds  are  the  destroyers  of  these  industrious 
insects:  but,  on  the  other  hand,  these  birds  preserve  our 
fields  from  the  depredations  of  crows,  which  they  pursue 
on  the  wing  with  great  vigilance  and  astonishing  dexterity. 
— Thus  divided  by  two  interested  motives,  I  have  long  re- 
sisted the  desire  I  have  to  kill  them,  until  last  year,  when 
I  thought  they  increased  too  much,  and  my  indulgence  had 
been  carried  too  far.  It  was  at  the  time  of  swarming, 
when  they  all  came  and  fixed  themselves  on  the  neighbour- 
ing trees,  whence  they  caught  those  bees  that  returned  load- 
ed from  the  field.  This  made  me  resolve  to  kill  as  many  as  I 
could,  and  I  was  just  ready  to  fire,  when  a  bunch  of  bees,  as  big 
as  my  fist,  issued  from  one  of  the  hives,  rushed  on  one  of 
these  birds,  and  probably  stung  him,  for  he  instantly  scream- 
ed, and  flew,  not  as  before,  in  an  irregular  manner,  but  in 
a  direct  line.  He  was  followed  by  the  same  bold  phalanx, 
a  considerable  distance,  which  unfortunately  becoming  too 
sure  of  victory,  quitted  their  military  ari'ay,  and  disbanded 
themselves.  By  this  inconsiderate  step,  they  lost  all  that 
aggregate  of  force  which  made  the  bird  fly  off.  Perceiving 
their  disorder,  he  immediately  returned,  and  snapped  as 
many  as  he  wanted;  nay,  he  had  even  the  impudence  to 
alight  on  the  very  twig  from  which  the  bees  had  driven 
him.  I  killed  him,  and  immediately  opened  his  craw,  from 
which  I  took  171  bees.  I  laid  them  all  on  a  blanket,  in 
the  sun,  and,  to  my  great  surprise,  54  returned  to  life,  lick- 
ed themselves  clean,  and  joyfully  went  back  to  the  hive; 
where  they  probably  informed  their  campanions  of  such  an 
adventure  and  escape,  as  I  believe  had  never  happened  be- 
fore to  American  bees!" 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


289 


SPORTING  WITH  HUIMANITY. 

The  following  narrative  is  extracted  from  the  journal  of  a 
British  officer  who  served  under  the  Duke  of  Wellington, 
at  the  time  of  Massena's  memorable  retreat  from  before 
Lisbon. 

"The  French  army  had  long  suffered  terrible  privations. 
We  all  knew  that  Massena  could  not  much  longer  retain  his 
position,  and  the  "Great  Lord"  (so  the  Spaniards  call 
Wellington)  allowed  famine  to  do  the  work  of  a  charge  of 
bayonets.  Our  army  was  weary  of  the  lines.  It  felt  as  if 
cooped  up  by  an  enemy  it  yet  despised,  and  would  have 
gladly  marched  out  to  storm  the  formidable  French  en- 
campment; and  such  was  the  first  idea  that  struck  many  of 
us,  when,  on  the  5th  of  March,  the  army  was  put  in  motion, 
and  the  animating  music  of  the  regimental  bands  rang 
through  the  rocky  ridges  of  Torres  Vedras.  But  it  was 
soon  universally  understood,  that  the  French  were  in  full 
retreat ;  there  was  now  no  hope  of  a  great  pitched  battle, 
and  all  that  I  could  expect  was,  that  as  our  regiment  formed 
part  of  the  advance,  we  might  now  and  then  have  a  brush 
with  the  rear-guard  of  the  French,  which  was,  you  know, 
composed  of  the  flower  of  the  army,  and  commanded  by 
Michael  Ney,  the  'bravest  of  the  brave.' 

"I  will  give  you,  in  another  letter,  an  account  of  the 
most  striking  scenes  I  witnessed  during  the  pursuit  after  our 
ferocious  enemy.  They  had  been  cheated  out  of  a  victory 
over  us, — so  they  said,  and  so  in  Gallic  presumption,  they 
probably  felt, — when,  some  months  before,  Massena  beheld 
that  army  which  he  threatened  to  drive  into  the  sea,  frown- 
ing on  him  from  impregnable  heights,  all  bristling  with 
cannon.  Instead  of  battle  and  conquest,  and  triumph,  they 
had  long  remained  in  hopeless  inactivity,  and  at  last,  their 
convoys  being  intercepted  by  the  guerillas,  they  had  en- 
dured all  the  intensest  miseries  of  famine.  Accordingly, 
when  they  broke  up,  the  soul  of  the  French  army  was  in  a 
burning  fever  of  savage  wrath.  The  consummate  skill  of 
their  leaders,  and  the  unmitigated  severity  of  their  disci- 
pline, kept  the  troops  in  firm  and  regular  order;  and  cer- 
tainly, on  all  occasions,  when  I  had  an  opportunity  of  see- 
ing the  rear-guard,  its  movements  were  most  beautiful.  I 
could  not  help  admiring  the  mass  moving  slowly  away,  like 
a  multitude  of  demons,  all  obeying  the  signs  of  one  master 
spirit.  Call  me  not  illiberal  in  thus  speaking  of  our  foe. 
Wait  till  you  hear  from  me  a  detailed  account  of  their  mer- 
ciless butcheries,  and  then  you  will  admit,  that  a  true  knight 
violates  not  the  laws  of  chivalry  in  uttering  his  abhorrence 
of  *****  .  The  ditches  were  often  literally 
filled  with  clotted  and  coagulated  blood,  as  with  mire — the 
4  D 


bodies  of  peasants,  put  to  death  like  dogs,  were  lying  there 
horribly  mangled;  little  naked  infants,  of  a  year  old,  or  less, 
were  found  besmeared  in  the  mud  of  the  road,  transfixed 
with  bayonet  wounds,  and  in  one  instance,  a  child,  of  about 
a  month  old,  I  myself  saw  with  the  bayonet  left  still  stick- 
ing in  its  neck;  young  women  and  matrons  were  found 
lying  dead  with  cruel  and  shameful  wounds;  and,  as  if  some 
general  law  to  that  eflect  had  been  promulgated  to  the  army, 
the  priests  were  hanged  upon  trees  by  the  road  side.  But 
no  more  of  this  at  present. 

"I  wish  now  to  give  you  some  idea  of  a  scene  I  witness- 
ed at  Miranda  do  Cervo,  on  the  ninth  day  of  our  pursuit; 
yet  I  fear  that  a  sight  so  terrible  cannot  be  shadowed  out, 
except  in  the  memory  of  him  who  beheld  it.  1  entered  the 
town  about  dusk.  It  had  been  a  black,  grim,  and  gloomy 
sort  of  a  day — at  one  time  fierce  blasts  of  wind,  and  at 
another  perfect  stillness,  with  far-off  thunder.  Altogether 
there  was  a  wild  adaptation  of  the  weather  and  the  day  to 
the  retreat  of  a  great  army.  Huge  masses  of  clouds  lay 
motionless  on  the  sky  before  us;  and  then  they  would  break 
up  suddenly,  as  with  a  whirlwind,  and  roll  off  in  the  red 
and  bloody  distance.  I  felt  myself,  towards  the  fall  of  the 
evening,  in  a  state  of  strange  excitement.  My  imagination 
got  the  better  entirely  of  all  my  other  faculties,  and  I  was 
like  a  man  in  a  grand  but  a  terrific  dream,  who  never  thinks 
of  questioning  any  thing  he  sees  or  hears,  but  identifies  all 
the  phantasms  around  with  a  strength  of  belief,  seemingly 
proportioned  to  their  utter  dissimilarity,  to  the  objects  of 
the  real  world  of  nature. 

"Just  as  I  was  passing  the  great  Cross  in  the  principal 
street,  I  met  an  old  haggard  looking  wretch — a  woman,  who 
seemed  to  have  in  her  hollow  eyes  an  unaccountable  expres- 
sion of  cruelty — a  glance  like  that  of  madness;  but  her  de- 
portment was  quiet  and  rational,  and  she  was  evidently  of 
the  middle  rank  of  society,  though  her  dress  was  faded  and 
squalid.  She  told  me  (without  being  questioned)  in  broken 
English,  that  I  would  find  comfortable  accommodation  in 
an  old  convent  that  stood  at  some  distance,  among  a  grove 
of  cork  trees;  pointing  to  them  at  the  same  time  with  her 
long  shrivelled  hand  and  arm,  and  giving  a  sort  of  hysteric 
laugh.  You  will  find,  said  she,  nobody  there  to  disturb 
you. 

"I  followed  her  advice  with  a  kind  of  superstitious  ac- 
quiescence. There  was  no  reason  to  anticipate  any  adven- 
ture or  danger  in  the  convent;  yet  the  wild  eyes  and  the 
wilder  voice  of  the  old  crone  powerfully  affected  me ;  and 
though,  after  all,  she  was  only  such  an  old  woman  as  one 
may  see  any  where,  I  really  began  to  invest  her  with  many 
imposing  qualities,  till  I  found  that,  in  a  sort  of  reverie,  I 
had  walked  up  a  pretty  long  flight  of  steps,  and  was  stand- 
ing at  the  entrance  of  the  cloisters  of  the  convent.     I  then 


290 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


saw  something  that  made  me  speedily  forget  the  old  woman, 
though  what  it  was  I  did  see,  I  could  not,  in  the  first  mo- 
ments of  amazement  and  horror,  very  distinctly  compre- 
hend. 

"Above  a  hundred  dead  bodies  lay  and  sat  before  my 
eyes,  all  of  them  apparently  in  the  very  attitude  or  pos- 
ture in  which  they  died.  I  looked  at  them  for  at  least  a 
minute,  before  I  knew  they  were  all  corpses.  Something 
in  the  mortal  silence  of  the  place  told  me  that  I  alone  was 
alive  in  this  dreadful  compan)\  A  desperate  courage  ena- 
bled me  then  to  look  stedfastly  at  the  scene  before  me. 
The  bodies  were  mostly  clothed  in  mats  and  rugs,  and  tat- 
tered great-coats;  some  of  them  merely  wrapped  round  with 
girdles  of  straw;  and  two  or  three  perfectly  naked.  Every 
face  had  a  different  expression,  but  all  painful,  horrid,  ago- 
nized, bloodless:  many  glazed  eyes  were  wide  open;  and, 
perhaps,  this  was  the  most  shocking  thing  in  the  whole 
spectacle.  So  many  eyes  that  saw  not,  all  seemingly  fixed 
upon  different  objects;  some  cast  up  to  heaven,  some  look- 
ing strait  forward,  and  some  with  the  while  orbs  turned 
round,  and  deep  sunk  in  the  sockets. 

«It  was  a  sort  of  hospital.  These  wretched  beings  were 
mostly  all   desperately  or   mortally  wounded;    and   after 


phemies,  and  the  most  shocking  obscenities  in  the  shape  of 
songs,  were  in  like  manner  written  there ;  and  you  may 
guess  what  an  eflect  they  had  upon  me,  when  the  wretches 
who  had  conceived  them  lay  all  dead  corpses  around  my 
feet.  I  saw  two  books  lying  oh  the  floor;  I  lifted  them  up; 
one  seemed  to  be  full  of  the  most  hideous  obscenity;  the 
other  was  the  Bible.  It  is  impossible  to  tell  you  the  horror 
produced  in  me  by  the  circumstance.  The  books  fell  from 
my  hand;  they  fell  upon  the  breast  of  one  of  the  bodies;  it 
was  a  woman's  breast.  A  woman  had  lived  and  died  in 
such  a  place  as  this!  What  had  been  in  that  heart,  now 
still,  perhaps  only  a  few  hours  before,  I  knew  not.  It  is 
possible,  love,  strong  as  death;  love,  guilty,  abandoned,  de- 
praved, and  linked  by  vice  unto  misery:  but  still  love,  that 
perished  but  with  the  last  throb,  and  yearned  in  the  last 
convulsion  towards  some  one  of  these  grim  dead  bodies.  I 
think  some  such  idea  as  this  came  across  me  at  the  time;  or 
has  it  now  only  arisen  ? 

"Near  this  corpse  lay  that  of  a  perfect  boy,  certainly  not 
more  than  seventeen  years  of  age.  There  was  a  little  cop- 
per figure  of  the  Virgin  Mary  round  his  neck,  suspended 
by  a  chain  of  hair.  It  was  of  little  value,  else  it  had  not 
been  suffered  to  remain  there.     In  his  hand  was  a  letter;  I 


having  been  stripped  by  their  comrades,  they  had  been  left     saw  enough  to  know  that  it  was  from  his  mother; — Mon 


there  dead  and  to  die.     Such  were  they,  who,  as  the  old 
hag  said,  would  not  trouble  me. 

*'I  had  begun  to  view  this  ghastly  sight  with  some  com- 
posure, when  I  saw,  at  the  remotest  part  of  the  hospital,  a 
gigantic  figure  sitting,  covered  with  blood,  and  almost  naked, 
upon  a  rude  bedstead,  with  his  back  leaning  against  the 
wall,  and  his  eyes  fixed  directly  on  mine.  I  thought  he  was 
alive,  and  shuddered;  but  he  was  stone  dead.  In  the  last 
agonies  he  had  bitten  his  under  lip  almost  entirely  off,  and 
his  long  black  beard  was  drenched  in  clotted  gore,  that  like- 
wise lay  in  large  blots  on  his  shaggy  bosom.  One  of  his 
hands  had  convulsively  grasped  the  wood-work  of  the  bed- 
stead, which  had  been  crushed  in  the  grasp.  I  recognised 
the  corpse.  He  was  a  serjeant  in  a  grenadier  regiment, 
and,  during  the  retreat,  distinguished  for  acts  of  savage 
valour.  One  day  he  killed,  with  his  own  hand,  Harry 
Warburton,  the  right  hand  man  of  my  own  company,  per- 
haps the  finest  made  and  most  powerful  man  in  the  British 
army.  My  soldiers  had  nick-named  him  with  a  very 
coarse  appellation,  and  I  really  felt  as  if  he  and  I  were  ac- 
quaintances. There  he  sat,  as  if  frozen  to  death.  I  went 
up  to  the  body,  and  raising  up  the  giant's  muscular  arm,  it 
fell  down  again  with  a  hollow  sound  against  the  bloody  side 
of  the  corpse. 

"My  eyes  unconsciously  wandered  along  the  walls. 
They  were  covered  with  grotesque  figures  and  caricatures 
of  the  English,  absolutely  drawn  in  blood.     Horrid  blas- 


cherejils,  ^'C.  It  was  a  terrible  place  to  think  of  mother — 
of  home — of  any  social  human  ties.  Have  these  ghastly 
things  parents,  brothers,  sisters,  lovers?  Were  they  once 
all  happy  in  peaceful  homes?  Did  these  convulsed,  and 
bloody,  and  mangled  bodies  once  lie  in  undisturbed  beds? 
Did  those  clutched  hands  once  press  in  infancy  a  mother's 
breast?  Now  all  was  loathsome,  terrible,  ghostlike.  Hu- 
man nature  itself  seemed  here  to  be  debased  and  brutified. 
Will  such  creatures,  I  thought,  ever  live  again  ?  Why 
should  they?  Robbers,  ravishers,  incendiaries,  murderers, 
suicides,  (for  a  dragoon  lay  with  a  pistol  in  his  hand,  and 
his  skull  shattered  to  pieces,)  heroes!  The  only  two  pow- 
ers that  reigned  here  were  agon}^  and  death.  Whatever 
might  have  been  their  characters  when  alive,  all  faces  were 
now  alike.  I  could  not,  in  those  fixed  extortions,  tell  what 
was  pain  from  what  was  anger — misery  from  wickedness. 

"It  was  now  almost  dark,  and  the  night  was  setting  in 
stormier  than  the  day.  A  strong  flash  of  lightning  sudden- 
ly illuminated  this  hold  of  death,  and  for  a  moment  showed 
me  more  distinctly  the  terrible  array.  A  loud  squall  of 
wind  came  round  about  the  building,  and  the  old  window 
casement  gave  way,  and  fell  with  a  shivering  crash  in  upon 
the  floor.  Something  rose  up  with  an  angry  growl  from 
amongst  the  dead  bodies.  It  was  a  huge  dark-coloured  wolf 
dog,  with  a  spiked  collar  round  his  neck;  and  seeing  me,  he 
leaped  forwards  with  gaunt  and  bony  limbs.  I  am  confi- 
dent that  his  jaws  were  bloody.     I  had  instinctively  moved 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


backwards  towards  the  door.  The  surly  savage  returned 
growling  to  his  lair;  and,  in  a  state  of  stupefaction,  I  found 
myself  in  the  open  air.  A  bugle  was  playing,  and  the 
light  infantry  company  of  my  own  regiment  was  entering 
the  village,  with  loud  shouts  and  hurras. — London  Sport- 
ins;  Magazine. 


DISEASES  OF  DOGS. 

Wild  animals,  reclaimed  from  a  state  of  nature  and  do- 
mesticated, are  susceptible  of  great  change  and  variety  in 
form,  colour,  and  character;  and  owing,  no  doubt,  to  being 
thus  compelled  to  assume  in  some  degree,  an  artificial  mode 
of  life,  they  are  rendered  more  liable  to  disorders.  Animals 
in  a  state  of  nature  are  little  subject  to  disease:  and  though 
the  wild  Dog  subsists  on  flesh  and  carrion,  it  is  more  than 
probable  he  is  never  troubled  with  what  is  disthiguished  by 
the  appellation  of  the  distemper,  or  any  of  that  long  cata- 
logue of  disorders,  to  which  the  Dog  is  rendered  obnoxious 
after  having  become  the  companion  of  man.  However, 
thus  much  may  be  truly  observed,  that  if  a  Dog  be  properly 
fed  and  exercised,  has  plenty  of  good  clean  water,  and  his 
bed  kept  clean,  he  will  not  in  general  be  much  troubled 
with  disease;  and  this  rule  will  be  found  to  obtain  more 
particularly  if  he  be  kept  in  the  country. 

The  Distemper. — The  distemper  frequently  attacks  a 
Dog  before  he  has  attained  his  first  year.  As  a  preliminary 
observation,  it  may  be  remarked,  that  the  same  membrane 
which  lines  the  nostrils  extends  down  the  windpipe  into 
the  lungs;  and  the  distemper,  in  the  first  instance,  may  be 
regarded  as  an  inflammation  of  this  membrane;  which,  if 
not  removed,  extends  down  to  the  lungs,  where  suppuration 
will  soon  be  produced;  when  the  animal's  eye  will  become 
dull,  accompanied  by  a  mucus  discharge,  a  cough,  and  loss 
of  appetite.  As  the  disease  advances,  it  presents  various 
appearances,  but  is  frequently  attended  with  twitchings 
about  the  head,  while  the  animal  becomes  excessively  weak 
in  the  loins  and  hinder  extremities;  indeed  he  appears 
completely  emaciated,  and  smells  intolerably.  At  length, 
the  twitchings  assume  the  appearance  of  convulsive  fits, 
accompanied  with  giddiness,  which  cause  the  Dog  to  turn 
round:  he  has  a  constant  disposition  to  dung,  with  obstinate 
costiveness  or  incessant  purging. 

On  the  first  appearance  of  the  symptoms  which  I  have 
described,  I  should  recommend  the  Dog  to  be  bled*  very 

»  Bleeding. — In  speaking  on  this  subject,  I  am  not  supposing  tiiat  the 
sportsman  is  a  member  of  the  medical  profession  in  any  of  its  branches, 
but  sufficiently  skilled  in  anatomy  to  know  a  vein  from  an  artery,  which  is 


freely,  and  his  body  to  be  opened  with  a  little  castor  oil  or 
syrup  of  buckthorn:  this  will  generally  remove  the  disease 
altogether,  if  applied  the  moment  the  first  symptoms  ap- 
pear. If,  however,  this  treatment  should  not  have  the 
desired  effect,  and  a  cough  ensues,  accompanied  with  a 
discharge  at  the  nose,  give  him  from  two  grains  to  eight 
of  tartar  emetic  (according  to  the  age  and  size  of  the  Dog,) 
every  other  day.  When  the  nervous  symptoms  ensue, 
which  I  have  already  described,  external  stimulants  (such 
as  sal-ammoniac  and  oil,  equal  parts,)  should  be  rubbed 
along  the  course  of  the  spinal  marrow,  and  tonics  given 
internally,  such  as  bark,  &c. 

Of  the  various  remedies,  the  following  was  given  with 
success  to  a  Dog,  so  afflicted  as  to  be  scarcely  able  to 
stand: — 

Turbetli's  mineral,  six  grains, 

mixed  with  sulphur,  and  divided  into  three  doses,  one  given 
every  other  morning.     Let  a  few  days  elapse,  and  repeat 
the  course. 
Another: 

Calomel,  one  grain  and  a  half. 
Rhubarb,  five  grains. 

given  every  other  day  for  a  week. 
Another: 

Antimonial  powder,  sixteen  grains, 
Powdered  fox-glove,  one  grain,  • 

made  into  four  bolusses  with  conserve  of  roses,  and  one 
given  at  night,  and  another  the  next  morning,  for  two  days. 

all  the  knowledge  requisite  for  performing  the  operation  of  bleeding  a  Dog. 
A  vein*  may  be  distinguished  from  an  artery  by  its  having  no  pulsation ; 
if  an  artery  of  any  consequence  shall  be  divided,  the  blood  will  flow  in  irre- 
gular gushes,  it  will  be  difficult  to  stop,  and  may  cause  the  death  of  the 
Dog.  However,  there  is  little  danger  of  such  an  unpleasant  circumstance 
happening,  and  an  ordinary  degree  of  attention  is  quite  sufficient  to  obviate 
it.  The  most  convenient  and  the  best  place  to  bleed  a  Dog,  is  to  open  a 
vein,  (the  jugular  vein,)  longitudinally,  in  the  side  of  the  neck,  round  which 
a  cord  should  be  first  tied  ;  and  if  the  sportsman  is  not  expert  at  handling  a 
lancet,  he  may  purcliase  a  fleam  at  any  of  the  shops  where  surgical  instru- 
ments arc  sold,  which,  by  means  of  springs,  is  so  contrived,  that  the  great- 
est bungler  need  be  under  no  apprehension.  Those  who  sell  this  instru- 
ment will  describe  the  method  of  using  it,  which  indeed  is  so  obvious  at  first 
view,  as  to  render  elucidation  superfluous  in  this  place. 

If,  after  the  vein  is  opened,  the  animal  should  not  bleed  freely,  pressure  a 
little  below  the  orifice  will  cause  the  blood  to  flow.  When  suflicicnt  blood 
has  been  taken,  (eight  ounces,  if  a  strong  Dog,)  the  bleeding  will  generally 
subside ;  should  this  not  be  the  case,  a  little  fur  from  a  hat  will  slop  it,  or 
the  lips  of  tlie  orifice  may  be  drawn  together  with  a  needle  and  tliread. 

The  vein  should  be  opened  longitudinally,  as  I  have  already  observed ;  as, 
if  opened  in  a  transverse  direction,  it  may  be  diflicult  to  stop  tlic  bleeding, 
owing  to  the  circumstance  of  the  incision  opening  every  time  the  Dog  holds 
down  or  stretches  out  his  head. 

Caustic  or  hot  iron  will  stop  bleeding,  even  when  an  artery  is  divided ;  or 
it  may  be  sewn  up. 


II  js  th-  bloud  fijm  the  heart ; 


5  back  the  blood  to  the  heart 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


I  have  known  whitening  administered  for  the  distemper, 
a  table  spoonful  every  morning,  with  a  little  opening  phy- 
sic, occasionally. 

I  have  uniformly  found  a  complete  cure  effected  from 
copious  and  repeated  venesection  in  the  early  stage  of  the 
distemper,  accompanied  with  a  little  opening  medicine, 
syrup  of  buckthorn,  for  instance.  In  the  kennel  of  Sir 
Harry  Mainwaring,  the  distemper  generally  swept  away 
a  third  of  the  young  dogs  at  least.  My  system  of  treating 
the  distemper  has  since  been  adopted  with  the  most  benefi- 
cial effect. 

The  following  scientific  description  of  the  distemper  and 
its  mode  of  treatment,  cannot  fail  to  be  highly  interesting: 

<'  A  little  black  spaniel,  six  months  old,  very  fat  and 
playful,  gradually  became  listless  and  irritable;  his  eyes 
suffused  with  water,  his  drooping  ears,  tenesmus,  rough 
coat,  dyspuoea,  and  frequent  cough,  announced  that  the 
disease  called  the  distemper  was  at  hand.  In  this  state  he 
ran  about  for  several  days,  when  the  difficulty  of  breathing 
increased.  His  flanks  beat  violently,  and  he  showed  signs 
of  feeling  great  pain  when  his  sides  were  pressed  upon. 
Soon  after,  he  became  slightly  convulsed,  and,  by  his  con- 
tinual and  melancholy  cry,  both  day  and  night,  proved 
that  he  was  suffering  from  severe  bodily  pain.  The  con- 
vulsions increased,  and  became  incessant;  his  debility  and 
emaciatien  were  daily  more  apparent;  and  at  the  expiration 
of  three  weeks  he  died. 

•'It  must  be  evident  that  the  distemper  is  an  inflamma- 
tory disorder,  more  particularly  affecting  the  mucous  coats 
of  the  bronchial  tubes,  and  that  the  great  congestions  of 
blood  found  in  the  heart  and  other  vital  organs  must  arise 
from  the  obstruction  it  meets  with  in  its  passage  through 
the  lungs.  The  particular  time  at  which  the  disorganiza- 
tion commences,  must  depend  on  the  violence  of  the  symp- 
toms; and  it  does  appear  that  the  disease  can  be  divided 
into  three  natural  stages: — 

"  1st.  The  stage  of  fever  and  general  excitement. 

"2d.  The  deposition  of  coagulable  lymph  into  the  sub- 
stance of  the  lungs;  and 

"3d.  The  effusion  of  matter  into  the  bronchial  tubes. 

'<In  drawing  this  view  of  the  complaint,  the  liver  is  not 
to  be  overlooked;  and  it  would  seem  as  if  this  organ  was, 
by  a  general  irritability  of  the  system,  excited  to  a  state  of 
unusual  activity,  and  that  thus,  by  the  presence  of  an  in- 
creased and  vitiated  state  of  the  bile,  the  stomach  and 
bowels  were  brought  into  a  disordered  condition,  and  their 
villous  coats  inflamed. 

"Upon  the  epidemic,  contagious,  or  other  causes  predis- 
posing to  the  distemper,  it  is  not  now  my  intention  to  offer 
any  remarks;  but  I  shall  proceed  to  the  treatment  which 
appearances  after  death  would  indicate. 


"It  is  unnecessary  for  me  to  add,  that  I  have  no  expe- 
rience of  its  efficacy,  nor  do  I  pretend  to  say  that  it  will 
be  successful.  Indeed  the  object  of  this  paper  is  rather  to 
induce  those  who  may  have  daily  opportunities  of  becom- 
ing acquainted  with  the  complaint,  by  observing  its  causes, 
symptoms,  and  progress,  to  form  an  idea  of  its  nature;  and 
lastly,  by  the  operation  of  remedies  and  frequent  dissec- 
tions, to  arrive  at  some  certain  conclusions. 

"  Treatment. — At  the  commencement  of  the  s_vmptoms, 
or  during  the  first  stage  of  excitement,  the  Dog  should  be 
bled  freely,  according  to  his  age  and  strength.  After  which 
an  emetic  of  tartarized  antimony  or  ipecacuanha  should  be 
administered,  and  its  operation  promoted  by  mild  bland 
fluids;  moderate  doses  of  calomel,  opium,  and  antimony, 
should  be  given  every  three  or  four  hours,  and  the  excess 
of  bile  removed  by  occasional  doses  of  castor  oil.  The 
Dog  should  be  immersed  for  twenty  minutes  in  a  warm 
bath,  rubbed  dry,  and  placed  in  clean  warm  straw;  the 
temperature  of  his  apartment  should  be  moderately  warm, 
taking  great  care  to  exclude  the  cold  air,  which  must  neces- 
sarily irritate  the  lungs.  Having  continued  this  plan  for 
forty-eight  hours,  a  mixture,  consisting  of  nitre,  fox-glove, 
and  ipecacuanha,  should  be  given  three  or  four  times  a  day 
until  the  urgent  symptoms  have  subsided.  Stimulants 
should  never  be  given  but  when  the  animal  appears  much 
exhausted,  and  after  the  preceding  measures  have  been 
adopted:  a  little  white  wine  might  then  be  put  into  the 
gruel,  which  should  constitute  his  food  for  the  primary 
attack.  When  recovering,  a  little  more  than  bread  and 
milk  or  nourishing  broths  will  be  necessary. 

"It  occasionally  happens  that  the  irritability  of  the 
stomach  is  such  that  no  medicines  can  be  retained.  Injec- 
tions in  these  cases  have  been  attended  with  beneficial 
effects;  and  therefore  a  solution  of  starch  with  laudanum 
should  be  thrown  up  several  times  in  the  course  of  twenty- 
four  hours:  a  blister  also  should  be  applied  to  the  region  of 
the  stomach. 

"With  regard  to  the  treatment  of  the  second  and  third 
stages,  when  the  first  has  been  violent  and  neglected,  very 
little  can  be  expected  from  medicine.  Bleeding  will  be 
highly  injurious;  and  calomel,  opium,  and  antimony,  com- 
bined with  expectorants,  would  most  probably  offer  the 
greatest  prospect  of  success.  Strength  should  be  carefully 
supported  by  a  nutritious  diet,  but  all  strong  cordials  ought 
to  be  avoided. 

"Although  it  is  likely  the  fever  accompanying  the  dis- 
temper has  a  peculiar  character,  I  am  decidedly  of  opinion 
that  there  is  no  specific  remedy  against  this  complaint:  and 
it  is  better  to  point  out  the  indications  of  cure,  than  to  enu- 
merate a  long  list  of  medicines  with  their  respective  doses, 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


the  selection  of  which  must  depend  on  the  circumstances 
of  each  individual  case." 

I  am  not  aware  of  any  other  remedies  worth  notice, 
though  a  great  number  might  be  added,  if  we  could  give 
credit  to  the  stories  retailed  by  dealers  in  Dogs,  as  well  as 
gamekeepers  and  huntsmen.  Much  will  be  found  to  depend 
on  good  nursing,  and  particularly  to  prevent  the  animal 
from  taking  cold.  From  what  I  have  witnessed  of  Blaine's 
medicine,  I  should  not  recommend  it. 

It  is  very  advisable  to  inoculate  for  the  distemper.  If 
you  can  meet  with  a  Dog  already  afSicted,  take  a  little 
mucous  from  his  nose,  and  insert  it  up  the  nostrils  of  your 
whelp,  after  having  prepared  him  by  a  dose  or  two  of  syrup 
of  buckthorn;  if  the  animal  does  not  take  the  disease, 
repeat  the  operation.  By  inoculating  for  the  distemper, 
the  disease  will  be  as  much  less  severe,  as  the  inoculated 
small  pox  compared  to  what  is  called  the  natural  mode  of 
taking  it. 

A  Dog  rarel)',  if  ever,  has  the  distemper  twice;  nor 
does  it  often  attack  him  after  he  has  attained  the  age  of  two 
years;  but  frequently  makes  its  appearance  before  the  ani- 
mal has  reached  his  twelfth  month.  A  notion  became  pre- 
valent a  few  years  back,  that  by  inoculating  a  Dog  with 
the  cow  pock,  the  distemper  would  be  prevented. 

Johnson's  Shooters'  Jinnual. 

Other  recipes: — 

"  One  ounce  of  flour  of  sulphur,  and  half  an  ounce  of 
antimony,  mix  them  well  together  in  paste  of  lard  or  butter 
— give  a  lump  of  this  about  the  size  of  a  nutmeg,  in  the 
early  stage  of  the  disease,  every  morning,  to  be  increased 
and  lessened  in  proportion  as  the  disease  advances  or  de- 
creases, in  the  animal. 

The  Dog  should  be  housed  while  giving  this  medicine. 

From  one  teaspoon  full  to  one  tablespoon  full  of  antimo- 
nial  wine,  according  to  the  age  of  the  subject.  In  less  than 
two  hours,  the  medicine  will  begin  to  operate,  and  the  dis- 
ease partly  or  wholly  removed  immediately  afterwards; 
should  it  continue  the  day  after,  the  same  dose  may  be 
repeated. — Am.  Turf  Reg.  and  Sport.  Mag. 


HYDROPHOBIA. 


Not  one  Dog  in  twenty,  reputed  mad,  is  so  in  reality — 
the  cure,  or  rather  the  prevention,  therefore,  is  certain  in 
many  instances;  and  where  it  happens  otherwise,  and  the 
Dog  was  labouring  under  the  hydrophobia,  the  result  is 
most  melancholy;  but  then  it  is  immediately  and  unblush- 
ingly  asserted,  that  the  medicine  had  not  operated  in  a 
4E 


proper  manner — it  had  not  remained  upon  the  stomach,  or 
been  taken  in  sufficient  quantity;  and  thus  the  cheat  con- 
tinues, though  on  a  much  more  circumscribed  scale. 

The  fact  is,  that  the  only  certain  remedy  hitherto  disco- 
vered for  this  dreadful  disease,  is  the  application  of  the 
knife: — the  blood  becomes  infected  by  the  saliva  from  the 
dog's  teeth;  and  unless  the  bitten  part  can  be  immediately 
cut  out,  death  will  most  likely  be  the  result,  though  the 
precise  time  will  be  very  uncertain;  for  so  capricious  is 
this  malady,  that,  after  infection,  it  sometimes  lies  dormant, 
as  it  were,  in  the  system  for  months,  sometimes  for  weeks; 
while  instances,  I  believe,  are  not  wanting,  where  it  has 
appeared  in  all  its  terrible  symptoms  in  the  course  of  a  few 
days. 

It  is  possible  that  a  person  might  be  bitten  by  a  mad  Dog, 
and  yet  escape  the  hydrophobia:  if,  in  the  act  of  biting,  the 
animal's  teeth  pass  through  a  thick  woollen  coat,  or  other 
garment,  so  that  his  teeth  in  passing  through  are  wiped 
dry,  he  might  inflict  a  wound  without  any  of  the  infectious 
saliva  or  fluid  reaching  it. 

Respecting  the  bite  of  a  mad  Dog,  Dr.  Vandeburgh  very 
judiciously  observes: — "Not  a  moment  should  be  lost  to 
destroy  the  poison  from  the  wound  (even  if  only  on  suppo- 
sition of  the  animal  being  mad;)  many  remedies  are  recom- 
mended, but  should  not  be  trusted  to;  the  only  efiectual 
method  is  to  destroy  the  foundation  of  the  poison,  and 
give  the  following  course  of  medicine: — the  part  bitten 
must  be  entirely  cut  out  with  a  sharp  instrument,  and  the 
edges  of  the  wound  seared  with  a  red-hot  iron,  to  prevent 
the  smallest  particle  of  poison  remaining;  afterwards, 
warm  poultices  of  oatmeal  and  water  to  be  applied  as  hot 
as  the  patient  can  possibly  bear,  to  produce  a  quick  and 
copious  discharge  of  matter  or  suppuration:  The  follow- 
ing pills  should  be  given: — 

Calomel,  one  scruple, 
Opium,  half  a  scruple, 

well  mixed  and  divided  into  ten  pills  of  equal  size,  one  pill 
to  be  taken  every  four  hours;  two  drachms  of  strong  oint- 
ment of  quicksilver  to  be  well  rubbed  in  on  the  thighs  and 
arms,  morning  and  evening,  which,  with  the  medicine, 
must  be  continued  till  the  mouth  becomes  sore  and  spitting 
is  produced;  when  matter  discharges  from  the  sore,  it 
should  also  be  dressed  with  strong  ointment  of  quicksilver, 
thickly  spread  on  lint,  and  the  poultice  continued  over  it: 
this  treatment  must  be  pursued  for  the  space  of  one  month, 
then  the  wound  healed  with  Turner\^  cerate  spread  on 
lint,  but  the  mouth  kept  sore  and  slight  spitting  prolonged 
for  at  least  two  months,  as  hydrophobia  has  been  known  to 
make  its  appearance  five  and  six  months  after  the  bite  of 
the  animal:  sea-bathing  is  strongly  advised;  but  I  would 
always  recommend  the  foregoing  treatment  in  preference,  a 


294 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  fflSTORY 


trial  of  which  should  not  be  omitted,  if  the  poison  was  de- 
stroyed at  first  by  cutting;  neither  if  the  bite  has  happened 
some  time,  nor  even  when  the  following  symptoms  have 
taken  place:  the  part  bitten  becoming  tender  and  inflamed, 
uneasiness  and  stupidity,  frightful  dreams,  convulsions, 
eyes  red  and  water}',  pain  all  over  the  body,  difficulty  in 
swallowing,  great  thirst,  and  when  liquid  is  only  brought 
before  the  patient  he  appears  choked,  accompanied  with 
trembling  and  shivering  over  the  whole  body;  vomiting 
bile  frequently  occurs,  attended  with  great  thirst  and  fever: 
the  last  symptoms  are  raging  and  foaming  at  the  mouth, 
spitting  at  tlie  bystanders,  and  strong  convulsions,  as  if 
drawn  double; — no  patient  should  be  given  over  till  the 
last  moment:  the  mercurial  friction  should  be  tried,  and 
the  prescribed  medicine  given  while  he  exists,  as  there  is 
hope  of  recovery  by  perseverance  in  the  foregoing  method. 

"The  patient  should  be  kept  on  very  low  diet,  and  no 
spirits  or  wine  be  used." 

The  following  are  the  progressive  symptoms  of  hydropho- 
bia :  when  a  Dog  becomes  melancholy,  droops  his  head, 
forbears  eating,  seems  to  forget  his  former  habits,  and  as  he 
runs  snatches  at  every  thing:  if  he  often  looks  upwards, 
and  that  his  tail  at  its  setting  on  be  rather  erect,  and  the  rest 
of  it  hanging  down;  if  his  eyes  be  red,  his  breath  strong, 
his  voice  hoarse,  and  that  he  drivels  and  foams  at  the 
mouth,  you  may  be  satisfied  of  the  approaches  of  hydro- 
phobia; and  the  only  thing  that  should  be  done  is  instantly 
to  despatch  him,  however  great  a  favourite  he  may  be.  If 
at  this  period  he  should  remain  at  liberty,  he  will  certainly 
leave  his  home:  he  goes  as  fast  as  he  can;  and  the  mischief 
that  may  happen,  owing  thus  to  a  mad  Dog  breaking  away, 
and  running  over  an  extent  of  country,  is  incalculable,  as 
he  spares  no  living  creature. 

The  following  accurate  description,  from  the  pen  of  Mr. 
Youatt,  appeared  in  the  Sporting  Magazine,  September, 
1S2S:— 

"The  symptoms  of  ra:bies  in  the  Dog  are  the  following, 
and  nearly  in  the  order  in  which  they  usually  appear: — An 
earnest  licking,  or  scratching  or  rubbing,  of  some  particu- 
lar part;  sulienness,  and  a  disposition  to  hide  from  obser- 
vation; considerable  costiveness  and  occasional  vomiting; 
an  eager  search  for  indigestible  substances — as  bits  of  thread, 
hair,  straw,  and  dung;  an  occasional  incli-nation  to  eat  its 
own  dung,  and  a  general  propensity  to  lap  its  own  urine. 
The  two  last  are  perfectly  characteristic  circumstances. 
The  Dog  becomes  irritable;  quarrels  with  his  camparnions; 
eagerly  hunts  and  worries  the  cat;  mumbles  the  hand  or 
foot  of  his  master,  or  perhaps  suddenly  bites  it,  and  then 
crouches  and  asks  pardon.  As  the  disease  proceeds,  the 
eyes  become  red;  they  have  a  peculiar  bright  and  fierce 
expression;  some  degree  of  strabismus  or  squinting  very 


early  appears;  not  the  protrusion  of  the  membrana  nicii- 
tans,  or  haw,  over  the  eye,  which,  in  distemper,  often 
gives  the  appearance  of  squinting,  but  an  actual  distortion 
of  the  eyes;  the  lid  of  one  eye  is  evidently  more  contracted 
than  the  other:  twitchings  occur  round  that  eye;  they  gra- 
dually spread  over  that  cheek,  and  finally  over  the  whole 
face.  In  the  latter  stages  of  the  disease,  that  eye  frequently 
assumes  a  dull  green  colour,  and  at  length  becomes  a  mass 
of  ulceration. 

"After  the  second  day,  the  Dog  usually  begins  to  lose  a 
perfect  control  over  the  voluntary  muscles.  He  catches  at 
his  food  with  an  eager  snap,  as  if  uncertain  whetiier  he 
could  seize  it;  and  he-  often  fails  in  the  attempt.  He 
either  bolts  his  meat  almost  unchewed,  or  in  the  attempt  to 
chew  it  suffers  it  to  drop  from  his  mouth.  This  want  of 
power  over  the  muscles  of  the  jaw,  tongue,  and  throat,  in- 
creases, until  the  lower  jaw  becomes  dependent,  the  tongue 
protrudes  from  the  mouth,  and  is  of  a  dark  and  almost 
black  colour.  The  animal  is  able,  however,  by  a  sudden 
convulsive  effort,  to  close  his  jaws,  and  to  inflict  a  severe 
bite. 

"The  Dog  is  in  incessant  action:  he  scrapes  his  bed  toge- 
ther, disposes  it  under  him  in  various  forms,  shifts  his  pos- 
ture every  instant — starts  up,  and  eagerly  gazes  at  some 
real  or  imaginary  object:  a  peculiar  kind  of  delirium  comes 
on:  he  traces  the  fancied  path  of  some  imaginary  object 
floating  around  him:  he  fixes  his  gaze  intently  on  some 
spot  in  the  wall  or  partition,  and  suddenly  plunges  and 
snaps  at  it;  his  eyes  then  close,  and  his  head  droops;  but 
the  next  moment  he  starts  again  to  renewed  activity:  he  is 
in  an  instant  recalled  from  this  delirium  by  the  voice  of  his 
master,  and  listens  attentively  to  his  commands;  but  as  soon 
as  his  master  ceases  to  address  him,  he  relapses  into  his 
former  mental  wandering. 

"  His  thirst  is  excessive,  (there  is  no  hydrophobia  in  the 
Dog)  and  the  power  over  the  muscles  concerned  in  degluti- 
tion being  impaired,  he  plunges  his  face  into  the  water  up 
to  the  very  eyes,  and  assiduously,  but  ineffectually,  attempts 
to  lap.  * 

"His  desire  to  do  mischief  depends  much  on  his  previous 
disposition  and  habits.  I  have  known  it  not  to  proceed 
beyond  an  occasional  snap,  and  then  only  when  purposely 
irritated;  but  with  the  fighting  Dog  the  scene  is  often  ter- 
rific. He  springs  to  the  end  of  his  chain — he  darts  with 
ferocity  at  some  object  he  conceives  to  be  within  his  reach 

*  In  those  instances  of  hydrophobia  which  have  fallen  under  my  notice, 
I  have  never  observed  the  dog  "  plunge  his  face  into  the  water  up  to  the  very 
eyes,  and  assiduously,  but  ineflectually,  attempt  to  lap."  On  the  contrary, 
the  animal  has  always  been  capable  of  lapping,  and  has  testified  no  symp- 
toms  of  horror  or  disgust  at  the  sight  of  fluids :  however,  in  the  disease  called 
Dumb  Madness,  I  have  noticed  symptoms  similar  to  the  above. 


AND  AMERICAN  RURAL  SPORTS. 


295 


— he  diligently  tears  lo  pieces  every  thing  about  him;  the 
carpet  or  rug  is  shaken  with  savage  violence;  the  door  or 
petition  is  gnawed  asunder;  and  so  eager  is  he  in  this  work 
of  demolition,  and  so  regardless  of  bodily  pain,  that  he  not 
unfrequently  breaks  one  or  all  of  his  tushes.  If  he  effects 
his  escape,  he  wanders  about,  sometimes  merely  attacking 
those  dogs  which  fall  in  his  way;  and  at  other  times  he  dili- 
gently and  perseveringly  hunts  out  his  prey:  he  overcomes 
every  obstacle  to  eflfect  his  purpose;  and,  unless  he  has  been 
detected  in  his  march  of  death,  he  returns  in  about  four-and- 
twenty  hours,  completely  exhausted,  to  the  habitation  of  his 
master. 

"He  frequently  utters  a  short  and  peculiar  howl,  which, 
if  once  heard,  can  rarely  be  forgotten;  or  if  he  barks,  it  is  a 
short,  hoarse,  inward  sound,  altogether  dissimilar  from  his 
usual  tone. 

"In  the  latter  stages  of  the  disease  a  viscid  saliva  flows 
from  his  mouth,  with  which  the  surface  of  the  water  that 
may  be  placed  before  him  is  covered  in  a  few  minutes:  and 
his  breathing  is  attended  with  a  harsh  grating  sound,  as  if 
impeded  by  the  accumulation  of  phlegm  in  the  respiratory 
passages. 

"The  loss  of  power  over  the  voluntary  muscles  extends 
after  the  third  day  throughout  his  whole  frame,  and  is  par- 
ticularly evident  in  the  loins;  he  staggers  in  his  gait;  there 
is  an  uncertainty  in  all  his  motions;  and  he  frequently  falls, 
not  only  when  he  attempts  to  walk,  but  when  he  stands 
balancing  himself  as  well  as  he  can.  On  the  fourth  or  fifth 
day  of  the  disease  he  dies,  sometimes  in  convulsions,  but 
more  frequently  without  a  struggle. 

"After  death  there  will  invariably  be  found  more  or  less 
inflammation  of  the  mucous  coat  of  the  stomach;  sometimes 
confined  to  the  rugae,  at  other  times  in  patches ;  generally 
with  spots  of  extravasated  blood,  and  occasionally  intense, 
and  occupying  the  whole  of  that  viscus.  The  stomach  will 
likewise  contain  some  portion  of  indigestible  matter,  (hair, 
straw,  dung,)  and  occasionally  it  will  be  completely  filled 
and  distended  by  an  incongruous  mass.  The  lungs  will 
usually  present  appearances  of  inflammation,  more  intense 
in  one,  and  generally  the  left  lung,  than  in  the  other.  Some 
particular  points  and  patches  will  be  of  a  deep  colour,  while 
the  neighbouring  portions  are  unaflected.  The  sublinqual 
and  parotid  glands  will  be  invariably  enlarged:  and  there 
will  also  be  a  certain  portion  of  inflammation,  sometimes  in- 
tense, and  at  other  times  assuming  only  a  faint  blush,  on 
the  edge  of  the  epiglottis,  or  on  the  rima  glottidis,  or  in  the 
angle  of  the  larynx  at  the  back  of  it." 

When  the  human  species  become  unhappily  the  subjects 
of  this  calamity,  though  in  particular  instances  some  varia- 
tion may  be  observed,  yet  the  fii'st  symptoms  are  generally 
the  same;  these  are  torpid  disquietude  in  the  wound,  (or 


seat  of  injury,)  attended  with  slight  intervening  itchings, 
ultimately  amounting  to  pain,  and  much  resembling  rheu- 
matic afiection.  It  continues  to  extend  itself  to  the  sur- 
rounding parts;  and,  at  length,  from  the  extremities  it 
expands  its  poisonous  power  to  the  viscera;  the  cicatrice, 
if  there  has  been  a  wound,  begins  to  swell,  inflammation 
hourly  increases,  till,  at  length,  a  serous  bloody  ichor  is 
discharged,  and  this  alone  may  be  considered  the  primary 
and  invariable  prognostic  of  certain  hydrophobia.  These 
leading  symptoms  soon  become  progressively  general,  bear- 
ing with  them  every  appearance  of  confirmed  rheumatism; 
they  are  fluctuating,  quick,  acute,  and  of  the  spasmodic, 
convulsive  kind;  they  suddenly  attack  the  patient,  severely 
affecting  the  head,  neck,  and  principal  joints;  a  dull,  drowsy 
pain  often  seizes  the  head  and  neck,  breast,  abdomen,  and 
even  vibrates  along  the  back  bone.  The  patient  is  gloomy 
and  inclined  to  solitude,  murmurs  much,  seems  lost  in  re- 
flection, is  forgetful,  inattentive,  and  prone  to  sleep;  at 
times  agitating  starts  denote  the  mind  to  be  disordered;  by 
turns  he  is  attentively  watchful;  his  slumbers  become  dis- 
turbed, and  suddenly  awaking  from  those,  convulsive  ap- 
pearances soon  follow. 

A  deafness  is  sometimes  complained  of,  the  eyes  are 
watery;  the  aspect  sorrowful;  the  countenance  pale,  and 
the  face  contracted:  sweat  breaks  out  about  the  temples; 
an  unusual  flow  of  saliva,  slimy  and  viscid,  at  length  comes 
on  with  a  dryness  of  the  fauces,  a  foulness  of  the  tongue, 
and  a  disagreeable  smell  (or  rather  fetid  efliuvia,)  from  the 
breath.  As  the  symptoms  already  recited  increase,  the 
second  stage  advances:  a  fever  commences,  which  at  first  is 
mild,  but  makes  with  gigantic  strides  the  most  rapid  ad- 
vances to  extremity;  it  is  accompanied  with  hourly  increas- 
ing horrors,  and  all  the  alarming  concomitants  of  mental 
derangement.  Wakefulness  becomes  perpetual ;  violent 
periodical  agitations  ensue;  the  mind  is  evidently  more  and 
more  disturbed;  a  delirium  follows,  at  which  critital  mo- 
ment an  invincible  aversion  X.o  fluid,  glass,  or  any  polished 
or  shining  body  is  plainly  perceived.  A  constriction  of  the 
gullet  takes  place,  and  an  incredible  difficulty  of  swallow- 
ing ensues;  liquids  are  ofiered,  and  are  attempted  to  be 
taken,  but  the  disgust  and  loathing  become  so  predominant, 
that  they  are  most  violently  declined;  and  this  symptoma- 
tic dread  and  aversion  so  wonderfully  increases,  that,  upon 
the  very  appearance  of  any  watery  fluid,  the  greatest  hor- 
ror comes  on,  and  the  most  shocking  muscular  distortions 
ensue;  if  the  liquor  is  attempted  to  be  forcibly  pressed  upon 
them,  the  experiment  is  rejected  by  an  instantaneous  suc- 
cession of  the  most  horrid  gesticulations,  and  convulsive 
distortions,  in  which  every  ray  of  reason  seems  to  be  ab- 
sorbed. Upon  a  temporary  cessation  of  so  distressing  a 
paroxysm,  the  poor  unhappy  patient  now  murmurs,  mourns. 


296 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


and  groans  most  miserably;  loses,  by  degrees,  all  know- 
ledge of  his  dearest  friends  and  most  familiar  acquaintance: 
and  their  presenting  themselves  before  him,  is  the  very 
critical  moment  when  all  of  this  description  give  proof  of 
their  desire  to  bite,  which,  in  the  attempt,  bears  no  ill  affi- 
nity to  the  similar  snappings  of  a  village  cur. 

Awful  to  relate,  reason  returns  at  intervals,  and  he  feel- 
ingly laments  his  own  calamity,  and  deplores  his  own  inca- 
pacity. A  consciousness  of  approaching  dissolution  is  per- 
ceptible even  to  himself,  and  he  seems  truly  resigned  to 
the  singularity  of  his  fate.  Severe  pain  and  consequent 
heat  producing  thirst,  a  desire  to  drink  is  displayed,  but 
nature  shrinks  from  her  office;  in  vain  the  patient  raises  his 
hand  to  touch  the  vessel,  it  almost  magically  produces  in- 
stant tremor — the  hand  recedes,  and  he  sinks  into  the  most 
afflicting  despondency.  Conscious,  likewise,  of  his  con- 
stantly increasing  inclination  to  bite,  he,  in  his  rational 
moments,  makes  signals  to  warn  his  friends  of  the  danger, 
and  keep  themselves  at  a  distance.  Towards  the  conclu- 
sion of  this  dreadful  and  most  melancholy  scene,  the  fever 
and  parching  thirst  increase,  the  tongue  becomes  swelled 
and  protruded,  foam  issues  from  the  mouth,  strength  fails, 
cold  sweats  come  on,  the  stricture  on  the  breast  increases, 
as  well  as  the  other  predominant  symptoms,  until,  in  a  long 
succession  of  convulsive  struggles,  all-powerful  death  closes 
the  scene. 

The  cause  of  the  hydrophobia  is  utterly  unknown;  and  its 
effects  hitherto  appear  to  have  baffled  every  remedy  which 
has  been  tried  for  its  removal.  Copious  and  repeated  vene- 
section was,  a  few  years  ago,  announced  to  the  world  as  a 
cure  for  the  hydrophobia,  and  instances  were  given  in  order 
to  confirm  it:  it  is  true,  they  came  in  a  questionable  shape 
on  account  of  the  distance  they  had  to  travel,  being  chiefly 
from  the  East  Indies:  however,  the  method  just  mentioned, 
has  been  tried  in  this  country  and  found  unavailing. 

The  alisma  plant  ago  was  introduced  as  a  remedy,  but, 
on  repeated  trial,  has  proved  ineffectual. 

Another  remedy  has  been  introduced.  This  new  remedy 
comes  from  a  distance;  but  let  us  not  reject  it  merely  on  that 
score.  The  account  has  appeared  in  several  medical  works, 
and  was  first  published,  it  seems,  by  Dr.  Midler,  of  Vienna, 
a  scientific  physician,  now  resident  at  Paris.  The  German 
physician  says,  he  received  the  particulars  from  M.  Maro- 
chetti,  a  Russian  surgeon,  who  informed  him,  that,  during 
his  residence  in  the  Ukraine,  in  the  year  1813,  he  was  call- 
ed on  to  attend  fifteen  persons  who  had  been  bit  by  a  mad 
dog,  when  some  old  men  requested  him  to  treat  the  unfor- 
tunate people  according  to  the  directions  of  a  neighbouring 
peasant,  who  had  acquired  a  great  reputation  for  curing  the 
hydrophobia.  M.  Warochetti  allowed  the  peasant  to  attend 
fourteen,  reserving  one  to  himself,  a  female  of  sixteen,  who 


was  cauterized  and  treated  in  the  usual  way,  and  expired 
eight  days  after  the  attack.  The  peasant  gave  to  the 
fourteen  persons  placed  under  his  care  a  strong  decoction  of 
the  tops  of  the  flowers  of  the  yellow  broom,  (a  pound  and  a 
half  a  day.)  He  examined  twice  a  day  the  under  part  of 
the  tongue,  where  he  had  generally  discovered  little  pim- 
ples, containing,  as  believed,  the  hydrophobic  poison:  these 
pimples  really  followed,  and  were  observed  by  Marochetti 
himself.  As  they  formed,  the  peasant  opened  them,  and 
cauterized  the  parts  with  a  red  hot  needle;  after  which,  the 
patients  gargled  with  the  decoction  mentioned  above.  The 
result  of  this  treatment  was,  that  the  fourteen  patients  were 
cured,  having  onl}'^  drank  the  decoction  for  six  weeks. 
Marochetti  then  states,  that,  five  years  afterwards,  he  him- 
self had  an  opportunity  of  giving  this  treatment  another 
trial.  Twenty-six  persons  who  had  been  bitten  by  a  mad 
dog,  were  put  under  his  care,  viz:  nine  men,  eleven  women, 
and  six  children:  he  ordered  the  decoction  of  the  tops  of  the 
flowers  of  yellow  broom  to  be  given  them  as  soon  as  possi- 
ble; and  upon  an  attentive  examination  of  their  tongues,  he 
discovered  pimples  on  five  men,  three  children,  and  all  the 
women.  Those  who  were  most  wounded  were  afflicted  on 
the  third  day:  the  others  on  the  fifth,  seventh,  or  ninth. 
One  of  the  women  who  had  been  slightly  bitten  in  the  leg 
had  no  appearance  till  the  twenty-first  day.  The  seven  who 
were  free  from  pimples  took  the  decoction  of  broom  for  six 
weeks,  with  success.  M.  Marochetti  thinks  that  the  hydro- 
phobic poison,  after  having  remained  in  the  wound,  fixes 
itself  under  the  tongue,  in  the  orifices  of  the  ducts  of  the 
submaxillary  gland,  which  are  situated  on  the  sides  of  the 
frsenum.  The  inflammation  of  which  the  little  pimples  are 
the  result,  has  a  peculiar  appearance.  The  time  in  which 
these  pimples  appear,  is  generally  between  the  third  and 
ninth  day  after  the  bite.  If  they  are  not  opened  before 
twenty-four  hours  after  their  appearance,  the  venom  is  ab- 
sorbed, and  the  patient  is  lost. 

Dumb  Madness. — Upon  the  disease,  erroneously  deno- 
minated Dumb  Madness,  I  will  relate  what  fell  under  my 
own  observation,  and  from  which  a  tolerable  idea  of  the 
disorder  may  be  formed: — "In  the  month  of  May,  1823, 
a  pointer  whelp  was  presented  to  me  by  a  friend,  which  I 
knew  to  be  as  well  bred  as  any  in  the  kingdom,  and  on 
that  account,  I,  of  course,  prized  him  more  highly.  The 
Dog  was  whelped  on  the  16th  of  April,  of  the  same  year; 
and  as  soon  as  I  received  him,  a  kennel  was  appropriated 
for  his  use  in  the  open  air,  well  littered  with  wheat  straw, 
and  kept  clean.  He  had  full  liberty,  and  a  clear  stream  of 
water  close  at  hand,  to  quench  his  thirst  whenever  he 
thought  proper.  The  Dog,  as  might  be  expected,  was  re- 
markably healthy;  and,  at  seven  months  old,  had  become 
an  amazingly  fine  animal:  at  this  period,  he  experienced  a 


AND  AMERICAN    RURAL  SPORTS. 


£97 


slight  attack  of  the  distemper,  which  immediately  gave 
way  to  bleeding  and  a  dose  of  tartar  emetic;  and  in  three 
or  four  days  he  was  restored  to  perfect  health.  His  colour 
was  a  perfect  jet  black;  he  was  larger  than  common,  and 
altogether,  the  finest  young  pointer  I  ever  saw.  On  the 
8th  of  January,  (of  the  following  year,)  I  observed  the 
Dog  keep  his  mouth  almost  continually  open,  the  inside  of 
which  appeared  darker  coloured  than  usual,  and  somewhat 
swelled.  I  immediatelj'  bled  him  copiously,  which,  how- 
ever, produced  no  visible  alteration;  on  the  contrary,  the 
next  day  all  the  symptoms  had  evidently  increased,  and  I 
observed  that  he  was  unable  to  swallow,  though  he  made 
many  attempts  both  to  eat  and  drink,  particularly  the 
latter:  but  the  water  or  the  milk,  which,  by  putting  his 
nose  into  the  vessel,  he  contrived  to  get  into  his  mouth, 
uniformly  run  out  again,  and  he  appeared  utterly  unable  to 
pass  it  down  his  throat:  he  licked  his  fore-legs  very  much, 
and  seemed  to  have  a  trifling  discharge  of  mucus,  or  saliva: 
but  all  this  time  the  Dog  appeared  not  only  perfectly  sensi- 
ble, but  even  in  good  spirits,  and  evidently  experienced 
but  little  pain.  A  sporting  acquaintance,  who  saw  him,  said 
the  disease  was  what  was  distinguished  b}-  the  appellation 
oidumb  madness,  which  seems  to  me  altogether  a  ridiculous 
term;  and  supposing  this  to  have  been  the  disorder  with 
which  my  Dog  was  affected,  I  can  testify  that  the  term  is 
very  improperly  applied,  as  the  animal  in  question  regularly 
barked  on  the  approach  of  a  stranger,  though  in  a  diiferent 
tone,  and  with  more  difficulty  than  usual.  However,  I 
immediately  searched  authorities  for  dumb  madness,  with 
a  view  to  ascertain  the  proper  mode  of  treatment.  In  an 
old  writer,  (the  author  of  the  "Gentleman's  Recreation,") 
I  found  it  thus  described: — "The  Dog  that  is  troubled 
vrith  dumb  madness  will  not  feed,  but  holds  his  mouth 
wide  open  continually,  putting  his  feet  to  his  mouth  fre- 
quently, as  if  he  had  a  bone  in  his  throat."  Now,  though 
my  Dog  kept  his  jaws  somewhat  distended,  his  mouth  was 
not  wide  open,  but  only  partiall)-  so,  and  that  he  was  able  to 
shut  it  I  can  safely  attest,  as  I  saw  him  many  times  close 
his  jaws,  though  he  never  kept  them  more  than  a  second 
or  two  in  that  position;  further,  the  animal  frequently 
licked  his  fore-legs,  but  I  never  saw  him  raise  his  feet,  or 
otherwise  use  indications  similar  to  those  adopted  by  a  Dog 
when  he  seems  to  have  a  bone  in  his  throat;  and  therefore 
the  cases  did  not  appear  to  agree. 

I  had  next  recourse  to  the  "Sportsman's  Dictionary,  or 
Gentleman's  Companion:"  the  third  edition  of  which  was 
published  in  1783,  which  contained  the  following  observa- 
tions:— "Dumb  madness  lies  in  the  blood,  and  causes  the 
Dog  not  to  feed,  but  to  hold  his  mouth  always  wide  open, 
frequently  putting  his  feet  to  his  mouth,  as  if  he  had  a  bone 
in  his  throat." 

4    F 


To  be  brief — I  perused  every  thing  within  my  reach,  on 
the  subject  of  Dogs  and  their  diseases,  but  without  gaining 
the  least  information;  and,  as  the  disorder,  at  least  in  the 
form  in  which  it  presented  itself,  was  new  to  me,  I  began 
to  entertain  fears  for  the  life  of  m}^  Dog,  and  the  sequel  will 
prove  they  were  but  too  well  founded.  I  have  already 
remarked,  that  I  first  perceived  the  disease  on  the  Sth  of 
Januarj'',  and  the  Dog  continued  much  in  the  same  way  for 
four  successive  days,  during  which,  all  his  faculties  appear- 
ed very  little,  if  at  all,  impaired.  He  would  follow  me 
into  the  field,  and  even  hunt,  frequently  attempting  to 
drink,  and,  in  order  to  accomplish  that  desirable  object, 
would  thrust  his  nose  into  the  water,  instead  of  attempting 
to  lap;  but  he  never  succeeded  in  forcing  any  of  the  fluid 
down  his  throat:  his  sense  of  smell  was  as  perfect  as  ever; 
and,  indeed,  though  he  evidently  became  very  lean,  he 
might  be  said  to  be  in  good  spirits  till  the  morning  of  the 
13th,  when  I  found  him  very  languid,  his  eye  had  lost  its 
lustre,  and  death  was  evidently  fast  approaching.  He  was 
perfectly  sensible,  and  whenever  I  approached  and  spoke 
to  him,  he  raised  his  heavy  eyes,  and  by  these,  as  well  as 
by  the  movement  of  his  tail,  appeared  grateful  for  my  atten- 
tion. Towards  the  evening  he  made  a  last  effort  to  swallow 
food,  but  was  not  able.  On  the  following  morning  he  wds 
stretched  on  his  side,  and  had  every  appearance  of  death, 
only  that  a  breathing,  at  very  long  intervals,  proved  that 
the  vital  spark  was  not  absolutely  extinct.  Some  few  hours 
afterwards  he  was  perfectly  lifeless;  and  I  was  resolved,  if 
possible,  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  his  death.  For  this  pur- 
purpose,  I  called  in  the  assistance  of  a  skilful  veterinary  sur- 
geon, and  the  animal  was  dissected  in  my  presence.  On 
opening  the  body,  it  was  abundantly  evident  that  the  Dog 
had  been  starved  to  death;  or,  in  other  words,  had  died  for 
want  of  food.  The  lungs,  the  liver,  and,  indeed,  all  those 
parts  of  the  animal  organization,  were  totally  unaffected, 
and  manifested  not  the  slightest  symptom  of  disease;  the 
same  remark  will  equally  apply  to  all  parts  of  the  throat, 
and  also  to  the  brain;  and  the  only  affection  that  could  be 
discovered,  was  in  the  salivary  glands,  which  were  tri- 
flingly  swelled.  On  the  whole,  I  feel  a  perfect  conviction, 
that  the  disorder  of  the  Dog  was  a  glandular  affection,  which, 
by  rendering  him  incapable  of  swallowing  sustenance, 
caused  his  death. 

Of  the  cure,  should  a  similar  case  come  under  my  obser- 
vation, I  feel  confident;  and  I  have  been  thus  minute  for 
the  information  of  .sportsmen  in  general,  particular! 3'  as  I 
have  been  informed,  that  the  disorder  which  I  have  at- 
tempted to  describe,  or  something  very  much  resembling 
it,  has  carried  off,  within  the  last  few  years,  great  num- 
bers of  valuable  dogs.  Should  a  similar  case  occur  with 
any  of  my  Dogs,  I  should  force  food,  (nourishing  broth. 


THE  CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 


for  instance,)  down  the  throat,  with  an  instrument  adapted 
for  the  purpose;  and  if  I  found  it  impossible  to  get  it 
down,  I  would  inject  it  into  the  bowels,  when  a  suffi- 
cient quantity  would  be  taken  up  by  the  absorbents,  to 
sustain  life  till  the  disease  of  the  glands  abated.  In  the 
first  place,  I  should  feel  a  disposition  to  bleed  the  afflicted 
animal,  as  this  would  prevent  any  super-abundant  pressure 
of  blood  upon  the  parts  affected,  which  I  might  perhaps  rub 
well  with  mercurial  ointment. 

It  is  a  lamentable  fact,  that  so  little  attention  has  been 
paid  to  the  diseases  of  this  invaluable  animal,  though  no 
creature  which  has  yet  been  taken  under  human  protection 
affords  so  good  an  opportunity  for  observation,  or  is  so 
much  entitled  to  the  assistance  and  kind  offices  of  its  mas- 
ter. The  D02;  has  become  a  domestic  of  the  most  familiar 
description,  whose  greatest  delight  is  in  administering  to 
the  pleasures  of  the  sportsman,  or  those  by  whom  his  ser- 
vices are  called  into  action;  his  civilization  may  be  said  to 
proceed  in  the  precise  ratio  with  that  of  human  nature,  and 
he  uniformly  takes  his  tone  from  the  circumstance  or  the 
situation  of  his  master.  As  he  has  closely  associated  him- 
self with  man,  therefore,  he  has  brought  upon  himself  a 


train  of  diseases,  resulting  from  his  artificial  mode  of  life; 
and  from  which,  in  a  state  of  nature,  there  is  little  doubt, 
but  he  is  altogether  exempt.  In  fact,  living  under  the  same 
roof,  and  in  the  same  manner,  as  his  master,  he  seems  to 
be  afflicted  something  in  the  same  way:  and,  upon  close 
examination,  it  will  be  found,  that  many  of  his  disorders 
bear  a  strong  resemblance  to  those  in  man,  and  would,  I 
have  little  doubt,  give  way  to  a  somewhat  similar  treatment. 
Thus  circumstanced,  it  seems  unaccountable  that  the  medi- 
cal treatment  of  this  faithful  creature  should  have  been  so 
neglected.  Generally  speaking,  whenever  a  Dog  is  attack- 
ed with  any  disease,  little  trouble  is  taken  in  his  recovery; 
food  is  offered  him,  and  if  he  is  able  to  eat  it  and  recovers, 
it  is  all  right;  but  it  very  frequently  happens,  that  the  mo- 
ment he  exhibits  symptoms  of  indisposition,  he  is  suspected 
of  hydrophobia,  and,  without  any  attempts  to  alleviate  his 
pains,  he  is  placed  in  a  situation  of  security,  and  either  suf- 
fered to  pine  away,  or  is  prematurely  despatched.  This 
may  not  apply  altogether  to  sportsmen,  perhaps;  though 
many  of  these,  I  have  not  the  least  doubt,  pay  but  little 
attention  to  the  matter. — Johnson's  Shooter's  Comjianion. 


END  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME. 


INDEX  TO  VOLUME  I. 


A. 


Page  7 

-  23 
24 

-  40 
46 

-  66 
S3 

-  91 
149 
111 

lis 

190 


101, 


Ant  Lion,  .  .  .  - 

Archery,    -  -  -  - 

A  Tale,  by  Hogg, 
A  Hunting  Excursion, 
Advice  to  Young  Sportsmen, 
An  extraordinary  Wolf  Hunt, 
Ants  and  Antbears  of  South  America, 
A  Bear  Hunt,  ... 

An  inquiry  respecting  the  true  nature  of  instinct 
Angling,  .  .  -  - 

An  excursion  to  the  Chesapeake, 
An  encounter  with  Wolves, 
An  explanation  of  technical  terms  used  by  Ornitholo- 
gists, descriptive  of  particular  parts,  -     203 
An  attempt  at  domesticating  the  Quail  or  Partridge, 

232,  2S5 
An  interesting  mode  of  finding  Wild  Bees, 
A  peculiarity  not  hitherto  described  in  the  Ankle  or 

Hock  joint  of  the  Horse, 
An  Adventure,  -  -  -  - 

A  Shooting  Party,     -  -  -  - 

Anecdotes  of  a  Pheasant  and  domestic  Fowl,     - 

of  Wolves,  .  -  - 

of  a  Grey  Fox, 

of  a  Wild  Goose,      -  -  - 

of  two  Deer,      .  -  - 

of  a  Pheasant,  .  .  - 

of  a  Crow,         .  -  - 

of  3-oung  Fox  Cubs, 

of  a  Fox,  -  .  - 

of  the  Shepherd's  Dog, 

of  the  Porpoise, 


234 


2S1 

2S4 

24 

33 

47 

4S 

ib. 

96 

140 

192 

22S 

265 

273 


B. 

Basin  of  the  Mississippi, 

Buffaloe  Hunt,    - 

Battle  between  a  Snake  and  an  Eel, 

Black  Grouse,    -  -  - 

Bass  Fishing  in  the  West, 

Biographical  sketch  of  Charles  Willson  Peale, 


C. 


Chesapeake  Duck  shooting, 
Comforts  of  a  Shooter, 


13 

168 
190 
226 
260 


Canine  Establishments,  -  -  Pag 

Communication  from  Susquehanna  county, 
Count  de  Launay's  description  of  a  Fox  Hunt, 
Carbonated  Springs,  .  .  - 

Characteristic's  of  a  true  Sportsman, 


Defence  of  the  Percussion, 

Dwarfs,      -  -  - 

Dick  Lingers  attempt  at  a  Steeple  Chase, 

December, 

Diseases  of  Dogs, 

Distemper, 

Hyprophobia,    - 


Encounter  with  a  Panther, 

Extract  from  a  letter  from  the  country. 

Eruption  of  Jurillo  in  1759, 


Final  answer  to  L  T.  S.    - 

Fountain  Trees, 

Fresh  and  Salt  water  Lakes  of  Mexico, 


Game  in  Olden  Times, 
Grouse  Shootins, 


H. 


History  of  the  Common  Deer,   - 

Ruffed  Grouse  or  Pheasant, 

Red  Fox, 

Quail  or  Partridge, 

Newfoundland  Dog, 

Rough  billed  Pelican, 

Prairie  Wolves, 

Meadow  Lark, 

Snow  Bird, 

Goosander, 

Golden  Eyed  Duck, 

Grisly  Bear, 

Griffin  Vulture, 

Chinchilli, 

Robin, 


141 
145 
164 
224 
236 


72 
107 
262 
276 
291 

ib. 
293 


137 
141 

225 


163 
176 
ISO 


192 
259 


3 

13 

25 

37 

49 

61 

73 

85 

86 

109 

110 

121 

125 

127 

133 


INDEX. 


History  of  the  Blue  Bird, 

. 

-  Page  135 

Woodcock, 

- 

-     158 

Ground  Squirrel, 

- 

169 

Wild  Swan, 

- 

-     181 

American  Argali, 

- 

193 

Rail, 

- 

-     206 

American  Varying 

Hare, 

217 

Red  Tailed  Hawk, 

- 

-     229 

American  Sparrow 

Hawk, 

231 

Canada  Porcupine, 

- 

-     241 

Quadrupeds, 


Page  216 


R. 


Summer  Duck  or  Wood  Duck,  -             252 

Great  Tailed  Squirrel,         -  -     265 

Raven,         -                 -  -             278 

Hunting  Spiders,        -                 -                 -  -       15 

Hunting  recollections,        -                 -  -               19 

Hunting  in  India,       -                  -                  -  -       94 

Habits  of  the  Ruffed  Grouse  or  Pheasant,  -             260 

How  Spiders  effect  their  serial  excursions,  -     173 

I. 

Influence  of  music  on  Mice,                .  .               36 
Inscription  on  the  monument  of  a  Newfoundland  Dog,     55 

Indian  Hunters,         -                 -                 -  -     159 

L. 

Lines  to  a  Wild  Deer,        -                -  -            285 

M. 

Migration  of  Birds,                    -                 -  -     155 

Mysterious  Sounds,            -                 -  -             120 

N. 

National  Museum  at  Paris,         -                 -  -     131 
Notes  of  a  Naturalist,  by  Jacob  Green,  M.  D. 

143,  197,  251 

Newly  invented  Rifle,        -                 -  -             261 

0. 
Observations  on  the  Natural  History  of  the  Cameleon,     58 

(Estrus  Hominis,       -                 -                 -  -       78 

On  the  choice  of  Guns,       -                 -  -        17,  90 

ffistrus  Equi,  or  the  Horse  gad  fly,            -  -     179 
On  the  vicious  habits  and  propensities  of  Horses,    214,  237 

On  the  growth  of  Trees,     -                  -  -             220 

On  the  Luxury  of  the  Romans,                   -  -     268 

On  bad  practices  among  Sportsmen,  -  -             2S7 

P. 

Petrified  Forest  of  Missouri,      -                 -  -       71 

Pigeon  shooting  by  the  New  York  Club,  -             165 

Prospect  of  Game,     -                 -                 -  -     167 

Pictured  Rocks  of  Lake  Superior,      -  -             170 

Precipitation  of  Salt  in  the  Mediterranean  sea,  -     178 

Pigeon  Match,                     -                  -  -              192 

Proceedings  of  the  Cincinnati  Angling  Club,  -     254 

Preservation  of  the  Quail  or  Partridge,  -             264 

Preservation  of  Trees  from  Hares,             -  -     277 


Retaliation,                  -                  -  -                  -       48 

Reply  to  Sportsmen,           -                 -  -               89 

Rejoinder  to  I.  T.  S.                   -  -                 -     116 

Reply  to  Sportsman's  rejoinder,          -  -             141 

Recipes  for  Distemper,               .  .                 -     291 

Hydrophobia,                    -  -             293 
S. 

Skating,     -                 -                 -  -                 -       64 

Stricture  on  I.  T.  S.            -                 -  -               65 

Snipe  Shooting,          -                 -  -                 -       87 

Sporting  calculation,           -                 -  -               96 

Shooting  match,          -                  -  .                  -     167 

Sagacity  of  a  Greyhound  and  Pointer,  -             223 

Shooting  parties,         -                 -  .                 -     253 

Sagacity  of  Bees,                -                 -  -             2S8 

Sporting  with  Humanity,           -  -                 -     291 

T. 
The  usefulness  of  Sporting,  -  -  16 
The  choice  of  Guns  adapted  for  common  field  amuse- 
ments, ...  17,  90 
The  Sloth,  ....  56 
The  Black  Swan,  -  -  -  -  60 
The  Ostrich,  ....  75 
The  Voices  of  Birds,  -  -  -  81 
Treatise  on  Woodcock  Shooting,  -  -  97 
The  Sea,  -  -  -  -  -  99 
Treatise  on  Breaking  Dogs,  -  -  160,  186 
The  Death  Song  of  the  Swan,  -  -  -  185 
The  Golden  Eagle,  -  -  -  199 
The  story  of  Hannah  Lamond,  -  -  2C1 
Torpidity  of  the  Ground  Squirrel,  -  -  228 
The  captive  Eagle,  -  -  ,  -  239 
The  Cougar,  -  -  •  -  243 
The  Elephant,  -  -  -  -  245 
The  Mule,  -  -  -  -  248 
The  match  for  SlO,000,  -  -  -  264 
The  Bread  Fruit,  -  -  -  -  273 
To  blow  Eggs  for  preservation  in  Cabinets,        -  280 

U. 

United  Bowmen  of  Philadelphia,  -             211,286 

V. 

Vernal  Nature,  an  Ode,  by  C.  W.  Thomson,     -  120 

W. 

Wish-ton-wish,           -                  -  -                  -       12 

Winter  Wolf  skalls,  or   the  manner  of  destroying 

.     Wolves  in  Sweden,           -  -                 -       31 

White  Fish  of  the  Lakes,                    -  -             141 

Whirlwinds  and  Waterspouts,   .  -                 -     204 


CABINET  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY, 


Is  designed  to  embrace  the  higher  and  more  interesting  branches  of  Zoology,  viz:  Ornithology, 
and  Mammalogy,  together  with  an  account  of  the  sports  and  pastimes  of  North  America. 

This  work  will  be  issued  monthly,  in  a  quarto  form,  and  printed  with  a  new  type,  on  fine  royal  paper. 
Each  number  will  contain  twenty-four  pages  closely  printed  matter,  and  embellished  with  two  beautiful 
coloured  plates,  of  Birds  and  Quadrupeds,  drawn  from  nature,  and  executed  in  the  best  style,  with  a  perfect 
history  of  each  object  so  represented.  It  will  also  contain  many  interesting  Anecdotes,  relating  to  Natural 
History,  and  all  other  subjects  which  may  give  interest,  comportable  with  the  spirit  of  the  work,  as  connect- 
ed with  fishing,  hunting,  and  shooting  parties,  the  various  clubs  established  for  gymnastic  exercises,  aquatic 
sports,  &c.  &c. 

TERMS— Eight  Dollars  per  annum,  payable  in  advance. 

J.  &  T  DOUGHTY, 
No.  80,  Walnut  street,  Philadelphia. 
Persons   procuring   eight  subscribers,  and  remitting   the  money  to  us,   shall  receive  nine  copies  of 
the  work. 


Im  iiresentjng  [he  first  No.  of  '■  I'-'if  Cahinft  of  Nata- 
T:il  Hi:>lory  aud  ^mcri-ap  Bvra/ A'porfi."  to  xh\i  ])'j\^- 
Jic,  the  Editors  n'ouid  rMpectfpUy  introduce  a  brief  outline 
>!'  !'. '.  uitiirc  plan  respectiag  th'  '•■■<,■■  r-.',^,,  n?  t',',-  ,,^,-1 

'     i    vhc'.r  object  to  prirsuf  ^ 

ofler,  uotilit  embniccs  eTT'ry  iuterr^liu^  oiijw;!  oi  N;uu)-,ii 
History  scattered  over  our  ividcly  extended  conti  aciiL  The 
reprcserllations  given,  shall  !>e  as  perfect  as  possible,  and 
always  frohi  natui-c,  ^vhenPN..r  it  is  in  our  pywer  to  obutia  a 
-I'liit.ct  to  sketch  from.  Thfj  liistory  of  t!ie  Mammalia  \v;]I 
1)6  prepared  by  a  g;eDtK'.ni.i n  of  this  City  po.sses^ng  eniinenv 
t.iicr.ts^  3.nd  {;;rf»^  lilorary  aoquire/nei.t.-.,  :itu'  wiui  itiv  •■!.<- 
toiy  will  be  embodied  man}'  iiiterestl^..; 
not  gcnci  :ily  fivi;l.sl    .)  b;- naturalists. 

inU  •  und  description  of  Li 

be   cbi-'iv    ^ov'MuHi    iy  that  beautiful  'iSTitcr  .A;,^j:;.;>!  •, 
Wnison,  (tdopting  his  language  generally  ;  nialdng  bcwcver 

some  acdilions  and  .■Jteratiocs  to  suit  the,  [>-•■ ' 

In  making  tiiis  acknovvl(?dginent,  and  by  gi' 
nernl  credit  in  the  coicmencemcut,   we  hop- 
aufllcJei*  npolo^y  for  not  using  Uie  usual  qiu' 
;.o  ''     ■■--''■-■  '■ " r.s  from  bis  Oriiiihology. 

..  ■.:   liiat  the  greate.-?!  j/'  ' 
■ainf'l  iii     i-  -.Y  A-k  bhall  h-^  original,  and  ;>;-rv. 
been  ;ivn!e   to  prorure  intorestinj^    coniniurM 
a  di^~•♦a^.■.s  and  our  immedii>*e.  nejgnbourhijc  : 

J  I  (ur  selections,  we  shall  endeavour  to  :/  . 
pleasing .md  instructive  subjr.ts.  lonsultini^  •'ueh  aatUors  as 
are  rare  and  valua'de. 


The  iioliimns  of  tl'.i'  work  will  be  tlirou-n  open  to  • 
i;Uerestin^  and  ijsefnl  matter  suitable  tV-r  it:  and  whilst  u 
■vvil!  give  us  pleasure  to  receive  su'"!>  from  al!  who  feel 
iifnr.M. ,!  i.i  t)-,,;.  prospcrily  of  a  work,  new  in  its  design 
'■st'fiilnes.s  and  piensnr.:,  we  will  neverlho- 
'-nirnunicatious  which  are  liitiier  offensive 
ill  U«:ii  iiu-jud^e,  or  descriptive  of  those  sports  and  pastimes 
which  ai-e  denrioralizing  in  their  tonde:)C3'.  It  is  onr  desire 
to  fariri^h  thai  which  will  instruct  raid  please,  and  avoid 
every  tiling  tending  to  (ylvi*.  offmce,  '.nJ  endeavour,  HB 
far  as  our.  inriir' -:  :■  ■  ■  - ''  •  '  -  .  ■-,  ■:\  -■''•rr 
cxjiense  nor  U--^ 


of  iSo..uiu!i-:  '..:.:. 

tore  are  hr<u>-^  ;:■.  -.r 

yu:.-'.']  ■    .r;cr  hno^v'cMge  bein;;;  ai  trie  ;ii;s;  p\ri)L!^d  cl  ?  ••■- 

u.r,  we  will  alwiys  gi\-e  a  hearty  wel^-ome  to  coianinn  :j 


iJc„\>  ex)i,.K_., 

,..cu....y  a. 

i-.it  Insipid  in  or 

ii,'cnnenoc 

I'lM   stiJl  bt  ■ 

ijcd  any  thi; 

gyninas'tlc 
invited  to 


lorward  to  i\> 


,,;)'■■■■    .        cr,  in  I1.S  eiyibeilLshiric::  -  ,     r^-.y;/?,  we  would  su|,'gest  the  i.-j- 

'<  aspecini.^u  cl  t]io,-e  whieb  will  be  issued  in  tutur>;;  a'jtl  n-  x-:  ••  v  0*  \'.ii::ng  v.  .'is  iegdjie  a  inanner  a.«  po.''siWe,  as  the 

tiiedravvingswillbemadeby  Ml.  7*.  Z>(??<^^'A(ry,  and colonre.d  difficulty  of  iracina;  tbo'".  if  writU^n  ufuiiteliigibly  (espe- 

uiuior  his  t-uperintendenct,  it  shall  be  O'lr  object  tofr't-  oially  wV,ere  m;,r.y  scif  !>ti((c  nu;^  es  oiciir)  frcqven'.ly  ren- 

duce  ;is  pl'-asing  pictun^s  and  characteristic  scencpy  as  c.!i!)  ders  it  ncccsAiry   (n  i;iy   them    aside;  ii.  consequence  of 

bird  or  •!!j..ar!ii.'ed  win  .'.d.'nilor.  whi-.-h,  it  l.,ii;p'.r,.-<  r\.J    -.■.u.b  ■i!--e"!l  or  p!(a»ir.g  matter  is 


U-T" 


[iti.ir.s  I)  hf.  .iddn^icd  to  the  editors 


Cabinet  of  Natural  History:  1930  Vol.  I 

Received;  The  book  was  bound  ini  brown 
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tips,  and  plain  endpapers.  The  title  was 
in  gold  on  a  brown  leather  label.  The 
case  was  tattered  and  the  front  and  back 
boards  were  loose.  Many  pages  were  foxed 
and  browned. 

Treatment:  The  text  was  washed  in  runnxng 
water  and  buffered  in  a  solution  of  mag- 
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paper  at  the  folds.  The  folds  were  cut  off 
and  the  text  re guarded  into  quarto  signa- 
tures. Guards  and  paper  repairs  were  attached 
with  rice  starch  paste  to  the  Japanese  papers. 
The  te>rt  was  resewn  viith  a  continuous  guard. 
Adhesive  used  at  the  spine  was  KLex  720. 
The  plates  were  not  treated  because  they  were 
hand  colored,  and  would  proboably  loose 
color  in  water.  Due  to  a  ragged  tab  at  pages 
132-33,  it  appears  that  a  plate  was  removed 
from  the  text.