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WATER-ANIMALS.

BY Pf

YW
Vv\ys, ELLA RODMAN CHURCH,
AUTHOR oF ‘“‘ Birps AND THEIR Ways,’’ « FLYERS AND CRAWLERS,”

““ FLOWER-TALKS AT ELMRIDGE,”’ ETC.

RY OF CONG,
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WASHINGTON |

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PHILADELPHIA :

PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION
AND SABBATH-SCHOOL WORK,
1334 CHESTNUT STREET.

COPYRIGHT, 1890, BY
THE TRUSTEES OF THE

PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION
AND SABBATH-SCHOOL WORK.

All Rights Reserved.

WeEstcoTT & THOMSON,
Stereotypers and Electrotypers, Philada.

PRET ALF.

THE volumes of this ELMRIDGE SERIES
do not claim to be scientific treatises. They
are merely familiar conversations about the
particular objects included in the respect-
ive books. Much information is given,
however, in this chatty way. In the pres-
ent volume many interesting facts are
brought out concerning Water-Animals.
Young people and children will enjoy read-
ing the book, and cannot but be profited
by what they learn in its pages.

It is certainly important that in the midst
of the great amount of fiction that the
young are now reading there should be
some place also for the learning of the
wonderful things of nature—our Father’s
handiwork.

CONTEN YS.

CHAPTER I.

PAGE

Dense SS fe ok ek ee et ge PRE Oa II
CHAPTER II.

Per eAGe Pe fe rie ee RRA AAS OA 25
CHAPTER III.

ieeeAt COUNTRY « - - . «era ES TRS, a 39
CHAPTER IV.

eee REO ff hk ft ga Slee. Gee 64
CHAPTER V.

eee PS Of ee ts eg ee PPE Big? OT 84
CHAPTER VI.

Peemeeatis MMQUGING 5 on Ge cg we MANTYS TEARS 100
CHAPTER VII.

een MISSIGON-WORK) zc ss ts oP ROSAS SE 120
CHAPTER VIII

EMM and eS or oe are el ea ey) Bes 138

8 CONTENTS.

CHAPTER X.
| PAGE
AT THE NORTH POLE 2 oa Se 185
CHAPTER XI.
(OCD COMPORT 4. 20. ere oe ots
CHAPTER XII. |
THE POLAR BEAR ARRIVES <9. 0. US 0 °s 3 See 229
CHAPTER XIII.
We THRILLING STORY (2050.02.02 2 a 253
CHAPTER XIV. |
mt ASHANGCE “OF: SCENE: ofc ac: bles . 6 ee 264
CHAPTER XV.
BOMETHING ABOUT AFRICA’ 90. 5... +. Uisreteenee a.
CHAPTER XVI.
# Cornious WATER-LILY 2. 6. see ae 293
CHAPTER XVII.
Pee RicuY, Kind oF HELP. . 0... sas oo
CHAPTER XVIII.
AOCPLEASANT DISCOVERY . 29...» os sm spielen

CHAPTER XIX.
A “DSNGEROUS NEIGHBOR . 0. 5 o “s: eivnt cs ple ee 336

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

PAGE
ye a a when Ot ES Se weal te 2
LoL a are nee Ss ee eee cy eee s 27
Pete AR SEAR. Soo YL Bal) kita kara! 33
MOONLIGHT SCENE: NORTHERN ALASKA ..... 41
NI Bee og ene ete pale has et a Soen 6 43
eee GIRL TATTOOED . 2. wo ee es 1 De See
Ie OC RATIER if gh Shes eR ye 55
momeens WATCHING FOR SEAES +: 2 i556 6 2 6 6 as 57
Re GEE A foes adi ay he ee: a eae? Ua Sl 68
LS SR. Re a 74.
PEEOMMECRIOMALE SHAT go eS) se a ss ee 97
meen IN “RHE ARCTIC ‘OCEAN. |. . - . su ss « s 107
ene oid, COUN. 3s os ee ele we IIO
Eee te LIUNE SS ee fe oe be. ws a se Sw 115
(0 PEP Se a ee ee a en Ron Seer ee 117
SIRE 2 ek et eh a ae: Rola rd ow Sw ss 145
EMPL TRIOSET, SS RS a ee ee eS 8 I51
ia ane a ee. fee TOK A Sk a ee 17!
Seetrve GREENLANDBRS . . . «ss Re Sh aa
EES Re ee ee eee ae ae 199
RRC TIO NB 2 cay Os G0 oS, weer, Boe al ay oe RE 201

IO LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

ESKIMO “VILLAGE Hic.) oe > ee Meee

WEN TCHBERG bcos phe yh eset ee ee oa cae
TRAVELING IN ESKIMO STYLE. .....
POLAR. EAR oe oe eet anes bee oe

PARTING S55 be uso eee vs a a

IWERITHER PRETTY NOR.‘ GOOD >. 3 al a eee

SPEARING “EMPPOPOTAMUS: se 3) Se ee
AC HIPPOPOTAMUS -BABY soar 6 ES IS ah
FPIPPOPOTAMUS, o «6 GE FE aA, tee

W ATER-ANIMALS.

CTA TEs 7.

ON SKATES.

VERY one said that it was a very

cold winter. Snow and ice reigned
supreme, and it seemed much more con-
venient in going out to fall down than to
stand upright. People became so accus-
tomed to tumbling that no one thought of
feeling mortified by such an accident.

In many places the unusual amount of
snow did a great deal of damage, hindered
travel and interfered with business; and in
the cities especially it was not looked upon
as a blessing. But God’s blessings often
come in disguise, and in some shape or
other this unwelcome snow may have been

one of them.
i

12 WATER-ANIMALS.

There was a great deal of shivering
in poor, half-warmed houses and by poor,
half-clothed children; but at Elmridge it
seemed like summer within doors, while
outside the gracefully sweeping evergreen
trees laden with snow, and the vines and
bushes coated with ice, the white hills in
the distance with blue and purple shadows
on them, and the clear, steel-blue sky over
all, made a beautiful picture.

Malcolm, now a tall boy of thirteen,
seemed really proud of the cold and an-
nounced every morning how high—or rather
how low—the thermometer was;. while a
pond near the Elmridge property, that pro-
duced beautiful lilies and other wild-flowers
along its borders in summer, was carefully
watched for skating, and “lots of fun”
counted on when Thomas should pronounce
it all right. Malcolm had a magnificent
sledge, rather than a sled, in which he often
pushed Miss Harson or his sisters over the
ice; but he declared that it needed a cou-
ple of Eskimo dogs to make it just the
thing.

There was a great commotion down at

ON SKATES. | 13

the pond—an excitement which had begun
at the house quite early in the morning—
one day near the last of January, and the
principal cause of this excitement was the
fact of its being Miss Harson’s birthday.
An immense box that had mysteriously
found its way to her door during the night
proved a complete surprise, not only to the
young lady, but to some smaller people, in
whose charge it had remained for two or
three days past. When the box was
opened Miss Harson looked as if she were
going to cry, while Clara and Edith fairly
shrieked with amazement.

Papa Kyle was at the bottom of it all,
and the double surprise gave him a great
deal of enjoyment.

To the little girls it seemed very old in-
deed to be twenty-one, and they wondered
how it felt; but Malcolm said grandly,

“Pooh! that’s only eight years older
than / am!”

They all took their first glance at Miss
Harson on that eventful morning with
some awe, as if they expected to see quite
a change in her appearance; but she looked

14 WATER-ANIMALS.

just as young and smiling as ever, and
laughed and bore her sentence of sixty-
three kisses, twenty-one apiece, as well as
she could.

“What can there be in this famous box ?”
she asked as with flushed cheeks and some-
what tumbled hair she finally emerged from
the tangle of children. ‘And where has it
come from?”

Malcolm proceeded to untie it, and there
lay a beautifully-folded brown mass, while
a dainty card announced that it was “For
dear Miss Harson, on her twenty-first
birthday, from her loving pupils.” A beau-
tiful sealskin sacque was taken out; and
underneath were two smaller ones, with
the label, “Clara and Edith, from Papa.”

“Why, we're not grown up,” exclaimed
Clara, as no one else seemed able to say
anything. “I thought that only young
ladies had sealskin sacques.”’

There was a knock at the door, and Jane
entered with a round, long box, which she
set down before Miss Harson as she tried
not to laugh: “Mr. Kyle’s compliments,
ma’am.,”’

ON SKATES. 15

Out came three dainty sealskin muffs
that just matched the sacques.

Jane retired only to return again with
another box, which she announced with
“Master Malcolm’s compliments, ma’am ;’’
and this time there were jaunty-looking
caps, or turbans, to match the other things.
The paper said, “From Malcolm to the
three young ladies—all ready for the ice.”

“Why, Malcolm!” exclaimed his govern-
ess in dismay, “how could you do this ?”

“It was easy enough, ma’am,” replied
the Jaughing boy. “Papa gave me a lot of
money one day, and said that I could do as
I liked with it, but he thought the best thing
to do was to get you three young ladies a
sealskin cap apiece, to go with the sacques
and muffs, and then you could go out with
comfort in very cold weather. Papa went
with me, and I chose the caps, so you see it
was really my present, after all.”

“IT never doubted it, my dear boy,” said
Miss Harson, affectionately, “ but this really
is too much.”’

Two little figures were now fully arrayed
to their intense satisfaction, and there was

16 WATER-ANIMALS.

a general chorus for Miss Harson to do the
same. The soft sealskin caps were very
becoming, and Malcolm admired and com-
wx— them all. |

“Papa,” said Edith as the two sisters
made their way to their father just as he
was starting for the city, “we're ever so
much obliged for these lovely sacques and
muffs, and we’ve thanked Malcolm for the
caps; but Miss Harson says there's too
much. I believe she’s crying, too.”

“Oh, Edie!” exclaimed Clara. But be-
fore she could get any further Mr. Kyle
said, with a very funny look in his eyes,

“Tf there is too much of it, we can have
some taken off. Do you think she meant
the sacque?”

«Why, it just fits her,’ replied Edith in a
perplexed tone, “and so does everything.
But she did not laugha bit. And oh, papa,
she does look so sweet!”

Mr. Kyle laughed, if Miss Harson hadn’t,
for this curious jumble of Edith’s, who was
very much in earnest, sounded more amus-
ing than she meant it to be. And then
papa became in a minute quite grave

ON SKATES. 17

again, and asked Edith in a very sober way
if she thought Miss Harson, when she said
there was too much, wanted them to take
back the muff or the cap, or both?

Then Edith made a rush at her father,
and, burying her head in his overcoat, said,

“ Now, papa!’ in a very plaintive tone.

“There! there, little girl!” with several
pats and a hearty kiss; “be off with your
nonsense.—And now, Clara, for ‘a_bear-
hug,’ and then make Miss Harson smile, if
you can, over her misfortune, and get her
down to the pond.”

Miss Harson did smile, for this command,
repeated by Clara and the earnestness with
which she delivered it, amused her very
much; but she replied quite firmly,

“After lessons,’ and had the fascinating
sealskin garments put out of sight for the
present. She said, laughingly, that she
could not help being twenty-one and hav-
ing a birthday, but she could help neglect-
ing her duties. There was a shorter session
than usual, but the lessons were very thor-
oughly attended to, and after lunch a merry

party started for the pond.
2

18 WATER-ANIMALS.

There was a cold sting in the air, but that
did not matter much to the figures wrapped
in sealskin, as it only painted their cheeks
with the brightest carnation and made their
eyes dance more brilliantly than before.
Malcolm declared that 4e was dressed in
gossamer in comparison, and drew vivid
pictures of a frozen boy to be carried home
when the fun was over; but a glance at his
sturdy figure and heavy overcoat, his thick
gloves and fur ear-flaps to the Glengarry
cap, was quite reassuring.

Miss Harson skated very gracefully, and
the little girls were past their first fear of
the ice; Malcolm felt very proud of his
party, whom he considered entirely under
his protection; and perhaps he showed this
a little too plainly. At least, some rough,
unpleasant-looking boys, who were doing
what Malcolm called “cutting up shines”
at the other end of the pond, appeared to
think so, for they called out mockingly,
“Stuck up!’ and said something about
“girls dressed in bear-skins,” not being ac-
quainted with seals.

Malcolm did a great deal of scowling in

ON SKATES. 19

reply, and matters were getting rather se-
rious when suddenly there was a shriek
from Edith, who had twisted her ankle, and
down she went upon the ice. Several of ©
the boys scampered off, as though afraid of
being punished for the accident, but two or
three of the larger ones came up in a
shamefaced way and offered their help. It
ended in their carrying the little girl home
in a very gentle and tender fashion, while
Malcolm ran on before to stop at the
doctor's. |

It was only a slight twist, not a sprain,
and the patient would be “as good as
new’ in two or three days; meanwhile
Thomas could carry her up and down
stairs, and every one would help to make
her as happy as possible.

Miss Harson did not forget the boys, who
had shown themselves so much better than
they appeared at first, but, taking them into
the warm kitchen, she had some hot lemon-
ade made for them, to which Kitty added
generous slices of pie and cake that seemed
to give great satisfaction. Having found out
their names and where they lived, the young

20 WATER-ANIMALS.

lady said a few kind words to each and then
returned to her little flock.

The boys pronounced her prettier than a
picture; Kitty assured them that she was
as good as she was pretty; and as to being
“proud,” people that hadn’t a thing to be
proud of were a great deal prouder. When
the visitors left Elmridge, it was with the
feeling that “stuck-up quality” were not
so stuck up, after all; except Malcolm:
they had not forgiven his scowl.

Miss Harson was talking to him about
that very thing, and warning him that his
quickness to resent an offence would get
him as well as others into trouble. But for
Edie’s fall, it might have done so that very
afternoon.

“Poor little Blossom!” he said, kissing
his sister tenderly; “I’m sorry you got
hurt, and I’d feel worse if I had anything
to do with it. But, Miss Harson, you did
not see the fellows as I did, and you don’t
know how aggravating they were—that
Sim Jute especially, who grins from ear
to ear at every one who is dressed at all
decently.”

ON SKATES. ZI

“Wasn't he one of the three who carried
Edie home ?” asked his governess.

Malcolm looked a little confused as he
“Believed he was,” and Miss Harson con-
tinued: “I do not excuse rudeness, as you
know of old, but there is great allowance
to be made for such boys. They are not
brought up to respect the rights of others,
_and when a party of warmly-dressed, pros-
perous-looking people come to invade what
they probably consider their own domain,
it reminds them of their own scanty cloth-
ing and perhaps empty stomachs, and they
feel angry and injured. Ido not say that
this feeling is right, because it is not, but it
only adds fuel to the fire to meet it with
threatening looks.”

“T don’t believe,’ said Malcolm, still
rather unsubdued, “that we can have any
more fun on the pond because of those
loafers; and I think it’s a shame!”

“The three ‘loafers’ who carried Edith
home,” replied the young lady, “behaved
very well in the kitchen, where they seemed
very grateful for some refreshments; and I
do not think we shall have any more trou-

22 WATER-ANIMALS.

ble with them. But Kitty, you see, didn’t
look a bit cross when I took them in.”

“Somebody else didn’t either,’ was the
prompt reply. “Oh, Miss Harson, why can’t
I smile like you, instead of scowling like
me ?” |

“You are an absurd boy,” said his gov-
erness, laughing at this nonsense, “ but I
do not despair yet of your learning the
power of the ‘soft answer’ in look as well
as in word,”

Meanwhile, Edith was comfortably settled
on the sofa, with Clara hanging over her in ©
a very devoted way. She rather enjoyed
being a sort of invalid, without feeling ill
and having disagreeable doses to take.

“Well,” said Miss Harson, kissing the
rosy cheek that was turned to the fire,
“what is all this thinking about?”

“T don’t see,” was the reply, “ why they're
sealed skins. Are they all sealed up, like
letters, when they make ’em into sacques ?”

“You funny little thing!” cried Malcolm,
while every one looked very smiling.

But Edith did not like being called “a
little thing’ when “she was nine, azy way,”

ON SKATES. 23

as she said with some triumph, and it
seemed to be getting on very respectably
toward twenty-one.

“Don’t hurry, dear, to get old,” said her
governess, affectionately; “and ‘little thing’
is a pet name, you know. If you were
really big, I couldn’t take you on my
lap.”
This seemed to be some consolation to
the child, but the “sealed skins” needed
further inquiring into, and Miss Harson
continued:

“The name is ‘sealskin,’ Edie, not ‘sealed
skin ;’ and the seal is a very interesting ani-
mal that lives most of the time in the water.”
“Qh!” said the little girl, in great sur-
prise, “I should think it would spoil the
pretty fur to be in the water. How does
it ever get dry?”

“Why, that is quite a long story,” was
the smiling reply, “and it does seem strange
for a fur animal to live in the water. But
I promised to tell you in our next talks
about some water-animals, and how would
you like me to begin to-night with our
friend the seal?”

24 WATER-ANIMALS.

“It seems an excellent plan,’ said Mr.
Kyle, who appeared just then in the door-
way, “but would there be any objection to
dining first ?”

‘And, picking up Edith in his arms, he
led the laughing party into the dining-
room, where they were soon all very busily

engaged.

CHAPTER. Ff.

ABOUT SEALS.

‘ OES the seal look like a whale ?’

asked Edith with great interest
when the little party were assembled again
for the promised “talk.”

“No, dear,” was the reply, “it does not
look in the least like it, and only resembles
that huge mammal in being an animal in-
stead of a fish. These pictures will give
you a very good idea of it; and you see,
for one thing, that the seal has a queer
little round head, while a whale’s head is
sometimes half the size of its whole body.”

“And it has such great big round eyes!”
said Clara.

“And a kind of moustache,” said Mal-
colm; “isn’t that funny?”

“Are these wemgs in front?” said Edith;
“they don’t look like legs.”

28

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26 WATER-ANIMALS.

“No, Edie, they are not wings, for the
seal doesn’t fly. They are more like paws,
but they are often called ‘flippers.’ ”

“ There's a tail,” said: Clara, “like aden

“No, dear; not a tail, but just another
pair of flippers. Only fishes have tails of
that kind, and the seal is not a fish.”

“But the seals live entirely in the water,
don’t they, Miss Harson?”’ asked Malcolm.

“Not entirely, was the reply, “although
their chief amusements are swimming and
diving; but they can also get along, after a
fashion, on land. These queer flippers,

‘which look very much like flat gloves with-

out any hands in them, are really arms and

legs; and a very interesting modern natu-

ralist says that, in looking at the drawings
of the bones in a seal’s flipper and an ani-
mal’s fore leg you will find that you can
match every bone of the one by a similar
bone of the other. The shapes of the
bones, to be sure, are altered to suit the
varied uses of swimming in the water and
walking on the land, but all the parts of
the arm and hand (or fore foot) of any other
mammal are seen also in the flipper of our

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28 WATER-ANIMALS.

subject—only there they are shortened,
thickened and covered with a membrane
which converts them into a paddle instead
of a paw.”

This had a very comical sound, as if a
seal were a live boat provided with all the
necessary belongings for skimming through
the water.

“He is a very curious animal,” continued
Miss Harson, “and to become properly
acquainted with him we shall have to travel
thousands of miles and follow him into the
cold, dreary waste of ice and water where
he loves to dwell, or meet him on some
barren shore where, if not so forbidding as
this, it is desolate enough.”

The children were delighted with the
prospect, and declared themselves ready to
travel anywhere.

“We will first see what we can learn
about seals at home,” was the smiling reply;
“and, first, tell me what you think of them
from the pictures.”

“They're slppery-looking,” said Edith,
“ana tat,”’ |

“They ave slippery-looking because they

ABOUT SEATS. 29

are fat and have such wonderfully smooth
skins; and their eyes are immense in pro-
portion to those of other animals. They
have too a very soft expression, and seals
are said to shed tears like human beings.”

“T wonder if any one ever really saw
them cry?” said Clara.

‘What do they cry for,” asked Malcolm,
“when they look so comfortable ?”

“They have a great many troubles,” re-
plied his governess, “ which we should think
well worth crying for. They don’t like,
for instance, to be wounded and killed, or
to have their little ones knocked on the
head and carried away before their eyes.”

“But that is cruel and wicked,’ said
Edith; “only bad people do such things.”

“The people who do it, dear, are not bad
because of that, for they want the skins and
sometimes the flesh; and little girls, as well
as big ones, who like sealskin sacques and
muffs and caps, are really the ones to
blame.”

Edith laughed a little as she patted the
soft muff that lay beside her, and Malcolm
said that she was fairly caught.

30 WATER-AN/IMALS.,

«Are the big round eyes brown?” asked
Clara; “they look so in the pictures.”

“They are often described as brown,”
replied her governess, “and sometimes
they are said to be ‘of the greenish hue of
the sea.’ The seal has a moustache and
whiskers like a cat, and its fur coat is, as
we know, wonderfully soft and silky. Were
it not for this pretty coat the animals would
not be so continually hunted and _ killed.
We are told that a great many years ago
seals were found all along our shores, and
were quite common in New York Bay; but
they have been hunted far beyond the coast
of Maine, and are getting farther away all
the time. How much it would add to the
pleasure of a voyage down the bay, or a
ramble along the wave-polished beach, if
we could see, here and there, trim brown
animals creep up from the water on some
projecting rock and gaze at us with no
fear in their mild eyes while shaking the
drops of water from their coats!”

Of course the little Kyles thought so too,
and they felt very much aggrieved that the
seals had been driven out of sight.

ABOUT SEALS. 31

“Seals have a great many enemies be-
sides the hunters,” continued the young
lady; “sword-fish and sharks and polar
bears are all fond of seal-meat, and as our
smooth brown friends would be drowned if
they remained long under water, these en-
emies have a fine chance to capture them
when they come up to breathe.”

“Why, Miss Harson,’ said Malcolm,
“isn’t it very funny that animals which live
in the water can get drowned ?”

“Not when you remember that all mam-
mals—to which class the seals belong—
breathe air as we do, instead of breathing
water as fishes do. A seal can scarcely
hold its breath over fifteen minutes, and
even that is not comfortable. It is neces-
sary, therefore, for these creatures in the
Arctic seas, where mainly is their home, to
be able to reach the air, even in spite of
the sheet of thick ice which for half the
year covers the whole ocean. But in large
bodies of ice there are always some holes,
no matter how cold the weather may be,
and these holes afford the seals of that re-
gion an opportunity to come to the surface

32 WATER-ANIMALS.

to breathe. There are some species, how-
ever, that keep round, smooth-edged air-
holes open for themselves by continually
breaking away the young ice as fast as it is
formed: these holes are never very large at
the surface, sometimes only large enough to
let one animal poke his nose up through;
they are much like chimneys, indeed, for
the ice may sometimes be a hundred feet
thick.”

“A hundred feet! exclaimed Clara;
“why, that’s thicker than this whole house!”

“Tt certainly is,” was the smiling reply,
“for it is about twice as thick as this house
is wide. Just think of being way down
under such a mass of ice; and then when
the poor seal concludes that he cannot
wait another minute for some fresh air to
breathe, and gets his head through the
hole, thinking how delicious fresh air is, he
suddenly catches sight of a dreadful mouth
with great fangs in it, ugly little red eyes
and a white fur collar, and knows, often
when it is too late, his cruel and perse-
vering enemy the polar bear! If only he
could get away! but he must breathe. If

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34 WATER-ANIMALS. |

it isn’t a bear, it’s a shark or a sword-fish,
which is just about as bad. The sword-
fish has a very pleasant way of tipping
over a cake of ice when he sees a seal on
it, so that the poor animal slips off, and then
the cruel sword-fish soon makes an end of
him.”

“IT wish 4e could be made an end of!”
exclaimed Edith, indignantly.

“He is, dear, quite often; and his bad
manners prevent him from being much re-
gretted in ocean society. Sometimes he
meets his end by running his sword into
the side of a ship and leaving it there, for
his usual habit is to attack any obstacle that
comes in his path.” |

“Well,” said Malcolm, “I’m glad the
ugly fellow gets killed that way.” | |

“But he doesn’t always: sometimes he
just breaks his sword off and goes on again.
The poor seal really has a very hard time
of it, for the Arctic wolves and foxes, the
raven, and probably also the great snowy
owl, attack the young before they are able
to defend themselves or escape. These
enemies are so active that the heavy and

ABOUT SEALS. 35

awkward parents have hard work to defend
their babies.”

“Oh, Miss Harson!” said Edith, “do
please tell us about the little baby seals—
they must be so fat and cunning!”

frill seals are” fat; *dear=‘as - fat. as°a
seal’ is a well-known expression-—but the
baby seals are not so fat in proportion as
their parents. They are, however, very
pretty and playful little creatures, and the
young of the harp seal—which is found in
great numbers on the coasts of Greenland
and Newfoundland—are white and woolly-
looking, sometimes with a tinge of gold.
But they are allowed to keep this pretty
dress only a few weeks, and their next coat
is of gray, coarse fur. Then they are
called ‘ragged jackets’ by the inhabitants,
while the youngest babies are ‘ white coats.’
By the time they are two or three years
old they have turned brown, and have
black marks like crescents or harps on
their backs, from which they get the name
_of ‘harp seals.’ They are now quite grown
up.”

. “The dear little white ones must be ever

36 WATER-ANIMALS.

so much prettier,” said Clara, regretfully ;
“T wish we could see one.” |

“JT do not think,” replied her governess,
“that there has ever been a baby seal on
exhibition; and these Arctic infants might
find our coldest winters too warm for them.
They are born on floating fields of ice, only
one baby to a family, but with plenty of
little woolly companions all around them,
and their chief amusement seems to be
squealing and barking.- They keep up a
constant commotion in this way, and can be
heard by passing ships a long distance off.
When the babies are very young, the
mothers leave them on the ice and go off
in search of food, coming back frequently
to look after the little ones; and although
there are thousands of the small white,
squealing creatures, which to you and me
would seem to be precisely alike, and all
are moving about more or less, the mother
never makes a mistake nor feeds any bleat-
ing baby until she has found her own.”

“But how can she tell which one is
hers?” asked Edith.

“She seems to know by a sort of in-

ABOUT SEALS. 37

stinct, and her constant care for her woolly
baby is something wonderful. There are
dreadful storms in the cold regions where
the seals are found—storms that scatter
great masses of ice and jam them violently
against anything with which they come in
contact; and many large and small seals
are drowned or crushed to pieces. On
such occasions it is touching to watch a
mother seal struggling to get her baby toa
safe place, either by trying to swim with it
between her fore flippers or by driving it
before her and tossing it forward with her
nose.”

“Don’t the little ones swim themselves,”
asked Malcolm, “as soon as they are
born ?”

“Not a bit of it,’ was the reply; “on the
contrary, they are very much afraid of the
water, and cling to their ice-nurseries as
long as their mothers will let them. But
you see they have got to learn to protect
themselves in the water, and a baby’s
mother often pushes him off the ice when
he is ten or twelve days old. He screams
with fright, and scrambles out as fast as he

38 WATER-ANIMALS.

can. The next day he tries it again, but
finds himself very awkward and_ soon
tired; the third day he does better; and
before long he can dive and leap, turn
somersaults (if he is a bearded seal) and
vanish under the ice the instant danger
threatens. But he had to learn how, to
begin with, like any other mammal.”

“Miss Harson,” asked Edith, with a very
puzzled face, “ what is a bearded seal ?”

“A ferocious species, Edie,” replied her
governess, “which is very large and has a
particularly thick skin. The Greenlanders
make their boats of it, and also very dura-
ble soles for their boots, as well as harness
for their dogs. It will fight the hunters
when pursued, and whenever it has a chance
will inflict a terrible bite. There are several
kinds of seals, you see, but the most valu-
able are the small fur-seals of Alaska, with
which we shall try to become better ac-
quainted.” |

Crear Pak “Ait:

THE SEAL COUNTRY.

- HY, it’s thousands of miles away!”

\ exclaimed Malcolm, as the chil-
dren were eagerly looking over a map of
the Western Territories and Alaska; “how
do you ever get there, Miss Harson ?”

“7 don’t get there at all,” was the laugh-
ing reply; “and I should be very sorry to
undertake it for all the sealskin sacques
that ever were made. But if you are bent
on going to Alaska, Malcolm, you must
step down to California, a short journey by
rail of a week or so; then you take a
steamer from San Francisco, go up the
Straits of Fuca, and through a broad chan-
nel, with Washington Territory on one side
and Vancouver Island on the other. Fin-
ally, you get to Sitka, one of the largest
towns of Alaska, and from Sitka to the
Seal Islands. ‘All the way,’ says a traveler

39

40 WATER-ANIMALS.

who does not seem to admire the climate,
‘you may generally find it raining about as
easily as it could possibly do if care had
been taken to make it oil instead of water.’
The fogs too are described as thick as
molasses, through which it is almost im-
possible to steer a vessel.”

“What a horrid place it must be!” said
Clara in great disgust; “/ don’t want to go
to Alaska.”

“Nor I, either,” added Edith.

“Well, Z do,” said Malcolm stoutly; “I
want to catch seals and things. But I can’t
go alone, you see—there’s no fun in that;
and if you don’t all come with me, you'll
get none of the furs.”

“T think,” said Miss Harson, “that we
shall have to go, at least in imagination ;
and when things seem very bad indeed, we
can comfort ourselves with the thought that
we are not really there. We can under-
stand our subject so much better if we
explore Alaska a little.”

“Well,” said Edith, “I shall put on my
sealskin sacque and cap and muff to travel

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42 WATER-ANIMALS.

“And have all the seals after you,” re-
plied Clara, “claiming their skins. Don’t
you remember Miss Harson’s story of
Borrowed Plumes ?”

“The best way,” observed Malcolm,
“would be to dress up in all these things,
and then go and sit in the summer-house,
where there is plenty of snow on the roof
and all around, while Miss Harson is telling
us about Alaska. It would make it seem
so real,”

“There is not always snow in Alaska,”
replied his governess, smiling; “how can
there be when it is raining? Alaska is a
large place, with a great many islands
around it, and one of these, Kodiak, has
trees and grass on it, also native potatoes
and wild cranberries. Both vegetables and
fruit are very small, but much better than >
nothing. The mountains of Kodiak, says —
the traveler, ‘rise into view at fifty miles’
distance from the harbor, presenting an ex-
ceedingly rugged and picturesque appear-
ance. The foreground is barren and cold-
looking, with sharp ridges and peaks of
snow in the rear. As we approach, forests

SITKA.

44 WATER-ANIMALS.

of scraggy spruce become visible, and we
are told to take a good look at them, be-
cause we will see no timber to the west.
and north. Sitka, the old Russian capital
of Alaska, is situated upon a swampy island
having the sunless, very wet climate com-
mon to this coast; which does not sound
like a region of perpetual snow.”

“Why is it the Ausszan capital ?' ” asked
Malcolm.

“Because Alaska formerly belonged to
Russia, and it is only separated from that
country, as you see on the map, by Behring’s
Strait. The United States bought it from
Russia in 1867, and some one said that ‘we
got enough land, or water and rocks, for
the money.’ The land is represented as
being ‘mostly set up on end,’ and yet it is
supposed that there are at least 561,000
square miles of it.’

“Are the people who live there nice ?”
asked Clara.

“You would scarcely think them so, dear,
in any sense of the word. ‘There are sev-
eral kinds of people in Alaska: the Aleuts,
who live on the long chain of islands known

THE SEAL COUNTRY. 45

as the Aleutian Islands, the Indians in the
neighborhood of Sitka (meaning not our
North American Indians, but a species of
Eskimo) and those of Alaska proper. Be-

ALASKAN GIRL, TATTOOED.

sides these there are a few hundred white
people, such as traders and agents, and
halfbreeds. Shall I tell you what these
Aleutians look like, and how they live >—
Remember, Clara, as a general thing they

46 WATER-ANIMALS.

are not clean, and therefore cannot be ‘nice’
companions. ” |

‘This did not frighten Miss Harson’s
audience at all; and, if the truth must be
told, they looked very much interested.

“TI suppose they are heathens?” said
Malcolm.

“No,” was the unexpected reply; “they
are not heathens at all, as most of them
profess the faith of the Russian-Greek
Church. But they are careless and super-
stitious, and much given to feasts and
dances on Sunday afternoon and evening.
The native Aleuts are not handsome, being,
like all Eskimos, of low stature, with small
dark eyes far apart, broad and high cheek-
bones, coarse, straight black hair, brownish-
yellow complexion and small hands and feet.

“When first discovered, these people
were living in large dirt-houses partly
underground, like ‘root-cellars,’ with the
difference only of having the entrance
through a hole in the top and centre, go-
ing in and out on a rude ladder or notched
timber post. Some of the houses were
very large; one of them being eighty-

THE SEAL COUNTRY. 47

seven yards long and forty yards wide;
and an old woman said that when her
people lived there they called it ‘a hand-
some house.’ Sometimes a hundred Aleuts
would live in one of these holes in the
ground, all crowding together for warmth,
as itis so hard to get any kind of fuel in
Alaska.

“The ‘ barabkie’ 1s a great improvement
on this cellar residence, as it is only partly
underground, and is walled up on the sides
and roofed over with dirt and sods and
thatched with grass, a small window placed
at one end anda small door at the other,
which opens first into a low, dark alley,
which in turn communicates with the living-
room by another small door. This living-
room is not large, seldom Over ten or
twelve feet square, and generally has a
hard earthen floor; the walls are neatly
boarded up, and sometimes painted and
embellished with pictures. In this room
the Aleut spends the greater portion of
his time when at home and not engaged
in hunting; he shuts himself up in it with
his family, and builds at irregular intervals

48 WATER-ANIMALS.

a brief hot fire in the little Russian stove,
and either drinks cup after cup of tea all
day, or else stupefies himself with ‘ quass,’
a sort of native beer, and lies back on his
bed in dull, stupid enjoyment for hours,
and even days. Many of these huts are
dry and cleanly, but the greater number
are damp and filthy, reeking necessarily
with strong smells.”

Malcolm declared that the tip of Clara’s
nose was plainly curled up as she said in
great disgust, “They are not nice at all,
and I don’t like to visit them. Let us go
away, Miss Harson, please.”

“Presently, dear,” was the reply; “we
need not, at least, make a very long call

inside the ‘barabkie. You will probably —

like this little frame house better, as it looks
as though it might have been built almost
anywhere around us. Such houses are
found only on the Seal Islands, where they
have been erected by the Alaska Commercial
Company, a cottage to each family. There
are only about four hundred people alto-
gether on the islands. These Seal Islanders,
who work for the company and have a fair

THE SEAL COUNTRY. 49

proportion of the profit on sealskins, are so
much better off than the other inhabitants
of Alaska that they are called the ‘7zch
Aleuts’ by their less fortunate neighbors.
They are not at all barbarous, and are
civil and polite to one another as well as to
the traders. It is only when under the in-
fluence of beer or liquor that they lose
their naturally amiable dispositions and
fall into bad repute.”

“But why do the white people who take
care of them and build them houses,” asked
Malcolm, “let them have things to drink ?”

“They do not ‘let’ them,’ said Miss
Harson, “as they try their best to prevent
it, both for the sake of the natives and for
their usefulness in catching the fur animals
from which they derive a large income.
But the Aleuts manufacture their intoxi-
cating drinks very slyly from sugar, flour
and other unpromising materials, so that
it seems almost impossible to prevent it.
Matters have improved, however, with bet-
ter houses and greater cleanliness, and it is
hoped that in time this vice will entirely

disappear.”
*

50 WATER-ANIMALS.

“Do they have anything nice to eat?”
asked Edith. |

“We should not think it nice, for there
is no wood or coal to cook with; and in-
stead of making bread, they depend on
crackers, which they can buy at the com-
pany’s stores. They have little besides,
except tea and sugar, but they can catch
fish and water-fowl, and then they are quite
contented.”

“But how can they make fires in stoves,
Miss Harson,” said Clara, “if there is noth-
ing to burn?” |

“TI see,” replied her governess, smiling,
“that you are thinking of what I said
about that living-room. It is just this
way, Clara: the =. fuel in Alaska, ex-
cept what is brought there in vessels, is
driftwood, which floats to them on the sea
from the northward, and a viney sort of
shrub called ‘chik a-snik.’”

“T should never guess that meant wood,”
said bipicotm: “it sounds as if some one
was sneezing.”

Every one thought it a particularly funny
word, but Miss Harson said that there were

THE SEAL COUNTRY. 51

probably a great many others in the same
language just as funny.

“Native women go up to the mountains,
where they gather the ‘timber,’ which is
rolled into bundles like hay and carried
down upon their backs. These women
may be seen coming over the hills in single
file loaded down with ‘chik-a-snik,’ like
pack-trains in the mines. They boil tea-
water with chik-a-snik for fuel, as that is
the principal part of their cookery. Their
fish also is prepared over it when not
eaten raw.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Clara and Edith; “how
can they eat raw fish?”

“ Because they have been brought up to
it from babyhood,’ was the reply; “we
should do the same thing if we had their
training. You will be glad to hear that,
much as you disapprove of the habits of
the Aleuts, they do not eat grease and oil
like the Eskimos. Besides, they are the
most courageous and enduring of hunters,
facing the roughest sea in.a slight boat
called a ‘bidarkie,’ and boldly attacking
whatever game comes in their way.”

52 WATER-ANIMALS.

“Ts the boat made of sealskin?” asked
Malcolm. |

“Partly, but it has a more substantial
foundation than that. A frame, fifteen or
twenty feet long, is made of narrow, light
strips of wood lashed together with thongs
of sealskin, and this frame is covered with
skins of sea-lions from which the hair has
been scraped. ‘The seams are closed with
grease, and as the entire frame is covered
over, with the exception of one or two
round hatches or holes for the paddlers to
sit in, they have acraft tight and seaworthy.
One or two and sometimes three men will
go to sea in one of these frail barks, and,
though the waves may dash over them, no
water is shipped so long as the frame holds
together. In addition to the paddlers who
sit in the hatches, their wives and children
are sometimes stowed away in the hold, so
that they are entirely out of sight within
the boat, lying between the feet and legs
of the men. Fish and furs are similarly
transported.” |

The long, narrow boat, partly under the
waves, did not look very attractive in the

LHL. SEAL» COUNTLR Y. 53

picture which Miss Harson showed them;
but Malcolm thought it must be “great
fun” to battle with the gale at sea as the
two Aleuts were doing.

“Strange as it seems,’ continued the
young lady, “there is on these islands ‘a
string, as a traveler says, ‘of smoking,
grumbling volcanoes which stretches over
fifteen hundred miles.’ Some of these are
constantly casting out fire, ashes and stones,
but earthquakes have not been known there
for a long time. There are other high
mountains in Alaska which are not vol-
canic, and one grand river, the Yukon.
Millions of the finest salmon run up this
river in June.”

“ Aren’t we going to hear about the other
people, Miss Harson ?” asked Edith, as the
narrative seemed to have come to an end.

“Yes, dear,’ was the reply; “you will
hear a great deal about them when we
have finished with the seals, for I suppose
you mean the Eskimos, who live in the
northern part of Alaska. We had a slight
acquaintance, you will remember, with the
Arctic Eskimos when we were learning

54 WATER-ANIMALS.

about those wonderful dogs in our talks on
flome Animals. But those of Alaska are
said to be a much finer race of men, and
instead of having short, dumpy figures,
they are taller and larger in every way.
Their faces have more expression, and they
seem to be full of fun and enjoyment; yet,
with all this, there is a terrible lack about
them.

“This is expressed in the words of one
who has lived among them: ‘They have a
decided and independent bearing, and are
remarkably free and unconstrained in their
meeting with white men; but they have
proved utterly intractable in the hands of
the missionaries, who have not been able,
after years of persistent effort, to convert
even a single family of them to enduring
Christianity.’

“Was it not wonderful that they could
look happy? Because they were not even
like the heathens who have never heard of
the true God.”

The little Kyles could not understand
their being satisfied with such a miserable

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56 WATER-ANIMALS.

“They do not know that any other is
better,’ said Miss Harson; “and probably
they pity the missionaries for spending their
time in reading and praying when they
might enjoy the delightful and profitable
excitement of plunging through the waves
after walruses and seals, with an occasional
whale. For whale’s blubber and walrus-
meat are their main dependence for food
during the winter months; in June they be-
gin to eat various kinds of fish, hair-seal
meat, geese, ducks, auks and their eggs.
But the seal- and whale-oil which they use
freely with their food is always strong and
rancid when it is poured out on their meat
and mixed with their berries.”

- + What nasty people they must be!” said
Clara, looking as though she had been
invited to an Eskimo dinner.

“ Are they black?” asked Edith, a ques-
tion she had been treasuring up ever since
“their meeting with white men” was men-
tioned.

“ No, dear,” replied her governess ; “ they
are not black; yet neither are they quite
white, as their complexions have a yellow

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tinge. They are very peculiar-looking, as
the men and boys have a curious fashion
of shaving the tops of their heads and
combing the fringe of hair left in front
over their foreheads like ‘bangs.’ The
Aleuts dress like white men, but these Es-
kimos wear the dresses of bird and rein-
deer skins which they have always worn.
The principal garment is a sort of frock-
coat, or ‘parkie,’ as it is called; and this
parkie, which is also worn by the women,
is often very elegant, being made of fur
and trimmed with white deerskin, which is
often ornamented with colored feathers and
embroidery. An ordinary one will have
collar and cuffs of white dogskin, and for
winter outdoor wear there is a hood of the
same white fur, which gives the wearer a
queer, fantastic appearance.

“An Eskimo summer-house is rather an
odd affair, and not at all like our idea of
going out of town. About the first of
April the Eskimo hunter leaves his winter
encampment, taking his family and few bits
of furniture on his dog-sledge, and goes to
some locality where he expects to find

THE SEAL COUNTRY. 59

seals abound. Arrived there, he cuts out
square blocks of hard snow, piles them up
into a round hut with a domed roof, clearing
away the snow from the inside down to the
hard ground or ice surface. Over this hut
he throws water, which in freezing cements
all the blocks together, and then he has a
good tight house, as warm as though made
of stone as soon as he has built his fire.
This done, he and his family are as com-
fortable as if they were at their winter
home; and if his hunting is successful, he
is contented and happy.

“Miss Harson,” said Malcolm, with great
enthusiasm, ‘‘ /’// be an Eskimo hunter and
build a snow-house for us all to live in
down by the pond.”

“T have no objection to your being an
Eskimo hunter,” replied his governess,
laughing, “so long as you hunt within a
safe distance of Elmridge; but I have a
decided objection to living in a snow-hut.”

“We'll all get on fire,” said Edith.

“ From the snow ?” asked her brother.

“ Edith supposed that you meant to make
a fire in the hut,” said Miss Harson; “but.

60 WATER-ANIMALS.-

this would be worse than the risk of taking
cold.”’ |

“T should think it wild: ” said Malcolm,
“as the house would melt down if it didn’t
burn down. But, Miss Harson, [ve been
thinking of something.”

“What is your thought like ?” asked the
young lady, with a smile at the boy’s beam-
ing face.

“Why,” rather hesitatingly, “I thought
that—perhaps— Well, the boys down
there at Long Meadow might act better if
they had a little fun sometimes, and so—”

“T see,’ as asoft hand was laid caress-
ingly on his shoulder; “and my boy wants
to do a little missionary work on the pond,
and let those less-favored boys have the
benefit of it.” |

“They'd like the snow-hut,” said Mal-
colm, looking up brightly, “and perhaps
you —— think of perpen: to make it
nicer.’

“T like those boys who carried me home,’
said Edith; “ ¢dey weren’t bad.” |

In spite of Edie’s certainty, however,
Miss Harson could not get very good

THE SEAL COUNTRY. 61

characters of Sim Jute and his com-
panions; but when she saw their wretched
homes she did not wonder much at this.

Poor Sim felt so much ashamed of him
self and his rags that he tried to slink
away when he caught a glimpse of the
young lady from the doorway against which
he was leaning; but she was too quick for
him, and spoke to him so pleasantly that
the boy felt almost at his ease with her.

“You will be glad to hear,’ said she,
“that the little girl whom you so kindly
helped to carry home last week is quite
well again.”

“Ts she?” replied Sim; “thank you.”

He thought this was doing pretty well,
and Miss Harson smiled very pleasantly
as she continued: “Mr. Malcolm would
like to see you in his tool-house to talk
about a little plan of his for you and the
other boys. He will tell it to you himself
if you will come this afternoon.”

Sim couldn’t express his admiration of
the young lady in words, but it actually led
him to wash his face and hands and smooth
down the locks of hair which seemed

62 | WATER-ANIMALS.

desirous of pointing to all the points of
the compass, and looking, as his mother
said, “quite like a dandy,” he walked over
to the tool-house in a sheepish frame of _
mind that was partly shared by Malcolm
himself. Both thought of the scowl and
the jeering words of that afternoon on the
pond, and both wished for a moment that
they were at separate poles.

But Malcolm did his governess a great
deal of credit as he said: “ You didn’t like
me the other day, Sim, and I did'nt like you
till you carried my sister home so nicely.
Let’s forget the first part, and see if we can’t
do something to make the pond pleasanter.
Now, what I’ve been thinking of is this.”

Then Malcolm: told his amazed visitor
about the snow-house, and also about a shed
in which there was to be a small stove, on
which coffee could be made and kept hot
for the benefit of the skaters, who would
gladly pay for it, and where half-frozen
toes could be thawed out. Hot lemonade,
popped corn and molasses candy could be
added to the stock, and the young gentle-
man proposed to advance the necessary

THE SEAL COUNTRY. 63

money himself and take his pay — the
profits.

Sim was delighted, and his two or three
helpers were no less so. The enterprise
prospered wonderfully, and “the pond
loafers,’ as they had been called, were
tasting the pleasures of industry and in-
dependence. Their conduct improved with
their prospects, and having taught them to
help themselves was, as Miss Harson felt,
a good foundation for other instruction.

CHAPTER IV.

SEALS AT HOME.

URRAH!” said Malcolm, tumultu-

ously, “for the Seal Islands! We’re
going in the first steamer, aren’t we, Miss
Harson ?”’

“If you can be bound over to keep the
peace, you naughty boy; but I am not sure
that it wouldn’t be a wise plan to drop you
on one of the uninhabited islands. To —
think of frightening poor Jane in that.
way !”’ |

“Tt was just fun to see her,” said the mis-
chievous boy, “when I told her we were all
going ever so far beyond California, to an
island in the ocean where there were noth-
ing but seals and ice. And first she said
she wouldn’t go with us; and then she said
we'd all be eaten up and killed; and then
she threw her apron over her face and

cried.”’
64

SEALS AT HOME. 65

“And you thought it fz,” replied his
governess, “to make a fellow-creature un-
happy? for Jane is so much attached to us
all, and so afraid of strange, unknown
things, that it was equal misery to her to
stay or to go. I am ashamed of you, Mal-
colm; you are not ‘my knight’ at all when
you conduct yourself in this manner.”

Malcolm humbly begged pardon and
promised amendment, getting down grace-
fully on one knee, as he had seen knights
bend in pictures ; and the scene was becom-
ing so ridiculous that Miss Harson could
scarcely keep a sober face. But suddenly
there was a knock at the door, and up
sprung Malcolm as Jane entered with
suspiciously red eyes.

“I don’t know, ma’am,” said she, plung-
ing into the middle of things at once,
“that ['d mind so much eatin’ the fat and
the oil and wearin’ that horrid fur next to
me, but livin’ under a pile of snow, with
just a hole in the top to breathe—”

“Oh, Malcolm! Malcolm!” said the young
lady reproachfully, “tell Jane the truth at

once.”
5

66 WATER-ANIMALS.

It was with a very red face that the young
gentleman stammered: “ This is the way it
is, Jane; were only going to Alaska and
the seals and all through a book, and I told
you about it just for fun. You'll forgive
me, won't you? I’m sorry I teased you.”

The girl was angry, for a moment, to
have had her feelings worked upon for
nothing, but she declared that Malcolm was
every inch a gentleman, after all, and went
to sound his praises to Kitty in the kitchen.
Miss Harson, however, who was very fond
of “her boy,’ as she called him, assured
him that he lacked a number of inches of
being a gentleman in her estimation, and
hoped that there would be no more practi-
cal jokes about their travels on paper.

“You see, Malcolm,’ remarked Edith,
with an air of great wisdom, “that if I was
a little girl, as I used to be, I'd been fright-
ened too. But [’m nine, you know.”

“Will you ever be anything but a funny
little midget, I wonder?” said her brother,
as he caught her up and kissed her in spite
of herself.

“ All on board for the Seal Islands!” said

SEALS AT HOME. 67

Miss Harson, comically; “the last bell is
ringing.”

The children laughed and scrambled as
if for desirable seats, and Clara and Edith
were finally settled close to their beloved
teacher, while Malcolm declared that he
was left out in the cold.

“You can be more useful to me there,”
replied the young lady, smiling at his deso-
late air, ‘for I shall want you to hand me
books and wait upon me generally.”

This was some consolation, and the group
looked contented and expectant.

“In order to understand these valuable
animals better,’ said Miss Harson, “you
must know that the fur-seal is migratory,
moving from north to south in the autumn,
and back again to the north in the spring.
These creatures hate sunshine and heat,
and like to spend their summers where
they can be sure of cool, foggy weather.
When the thermometer rises to about fifty
degrees they suffer as much as we do when
it is at ninety, and they try to cool them-
selves off, in a very human sort of way,
with their fan-like flippers.”

68 WATER-ANIMALS.

The children burst out laughing.

“It must be such a funny sight,” said
Clara, “to see them fanning themselves
with their own paws!”

“Tt is,’ was the smiling reply, “but it is a
sight to which there are very few witnesses
in that lonely region. There are four seal
islands in Behring’s Sea, off the west coast
of the peninsula of Alaska, as you can see
on the map, but two of them are only

SEALS AT HOME. 69

rocks: and of the two others, St. Paul and
St. George, the first is said to be the great-
est resort for seals in the whole world.
Here the seals gather from the cooler re-
gion of Behring’s Sea and beyond to enjoy
the delightful fog-banks and rest after their
journey. The first to arrive are the fathers
of the families—great, fat, quarrelsome fel-
lows, who pick out the choicest places
among the rocks for a summer residence,
and fight with any other seal who comes
near to dispute it. They wish to be all set-
tled at housekeeping before any of the Mrs.
Seals arrive; but getting settled is not an
easy matter when the stronger seals are
continually driving the weaker ones from
their places.

“Fach seal mounts guard over a spot
about ten feet square, and here he stays for
several weeks without food or water, often
engaged in deadly combat with some rival
who is resolved to have that particular
piece of ground. In these fights the com-
batants, with teeth clenched in each other’s
hides or flippers, struggle in savage though
alert unwieldiness, their roars of rage and

y, WATER-ANIMALS.

defiance being half stifled by the violence
of the conflict.’

“Why, I thought,” said Edith, in a disap-
pointed tone, “that seals were nice little
soft things that didn’t fight!”

“No, dear; they seem to be quite the
contrary; and as to being ‘little, the male
seals are six or seven feet long, and weigh
from three to five hundred pounds. The
females really are amiable, and only about
one quarter the size of their partners.
They are of a different color too, for you
must know that these animals are provided
with two coats, the outer one being of short,
coarse hair, while the under one is the pretty
fur which we see before us now. The male
seals are of a rusty black, with a gray patch
over the shoulders, while the females have
steel-colored tints on the back, with pure
white on other parts.

“When the seals have fully arrived, acres
of ground are as closely covered with them
as they can possibly be. ‘They have trav-
- eled two or three thousand miles, and they
never make a mistake, but always at this
time of the year get to the same place.

SEALS AT HOME. 71

They get over the ground very well, for the
fur-seal never sprawls out and flounders
when moving on land, as might be sup-
posed from observing the progress of the
common hair-seal: on the contrary, this an-
imal carries its body clear and free from the
ground, with head and neck erect, slipping
forward with its fore feet and bringing the
hinder ones up to fresh positions after every
second step forward. When exerting itself
it can spring into a lumbering, shambling
gallop, and for a few rods run as fast as a
man, but will sink quickly to the earth,
gasping, panting and palpitating.”

“But don't they like better to be in the
water?” asked Malcolm.

“Yes, they always travel by swimming
_ under the water, which they do very swiftly,
the fore flippers acting as propellers, while
the long, thin hinder ones are used to guide
their course. Every little while a seal will
raise his head and neck from the sea to
snort and look around him. Often when
playing, or if suddenly startled, these ani- .
mals will leap entirely out of the water,
like so many dolphins. They delight too

~

72 WATER-ANIMATLS.

in turning somersaults in the swell of the
waves; then they will float, and scratch and
rub themselves with their flippers; and they
even go to sleep in the water, but take care
to leave a very small portion of their bodies
in sight.”

“I should think they'd eet killed when
they are asleep in the water,” said Clara.

‘They are never entirely asleep, or they
wake very easily, for they are by no means |
the dull, heavy animals they are generally
supposed to be. It is said that a healthy
seal is never seen sleeping without an in-
voluntary nervous muscular twitching and
flinching of various portions of its body,
usually an uneasy folding out and back of
its flippers, with quick, crawling movements
of its skin, the eyes being, however, always
tightly closed.

“Over twenty miles of seals are seen
along the shores of their favorite islands,
where about four hundred thousand are
born every year. [The young ones are
droll little creatures, full of fun, and very
fond of getting together in large squads,
all the way up from a hundred to ten thou-

SEALS AT HOME. 73

sand, to frolic and gambol among them-
selves, until a common impulse leads them
to sleep. By the middle of August those
of them that may be nearest the water
essay to swim; for a fur-seal pup’s first
attempt is most laughably awkward, and
did it not begin in some shallow eddy near
the shore it wouid certainly drown. But
while the little animals are ridiculously
clumsy at their first trial in the water, they
continue to splutter, flounder, flop and
paddle in and out, until by the time they
are ready to leave the islands, in October
and November, they can move with great
freedom, and at the age of one and two
years they become the champion swimmers
of their species.”

“T like to hear about the Z¢#e seals,” said
Edith; “they’re so cunning! I wish you
could tell us ever so much more about ’em,
Miss Harson.”

“That will scarcely be lakes Edie, as
there is really nothing more to tell. They
do not grow very fast, and so many ene-
mies, both in and out of the water, are
watching to pounce upon them that thou-

74 WATER-ANIMALS.

sands never get beyond their first

—_—S{$=
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SSS J} a,

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bi

ESKIMO SPEARING SEAL,

“T suppose, Miss Harson,” said Malcolm,
“that a great many hunters go to Alaska
to kill seals for the sake of their skins?

SEALS AT HOME. 75

I shall, when I am a man, and bring you all
piles of them for sleigh-robes and every-
thing.”

“T don’t think you will, sir,’ was the
amused reply, “for the Seal Islands are not
public hunting-grounds. The seals would
soon disappear if they were. They belong
to the United States government, and are
leased to a company that has the care of the
islands and enjoys all the privileges of the
seal business. A portion of the money re-
ceived for the valuable skins is paid each
year to the government, and only the people
who belong to the islands are allowed to be
there and take part in the work and profit.
These people are carefully looked after and
made comfortable. No intoxicating drinks
are permitted to be brought there, and an
agent who sets a bad example in any way
is immediately dismissed.”

“I'm so glad,” said Clara, “that they try
to make them good, as well as to get their
sealskins !”’

“]T know what you mean, dear,” said her
governess kindly, “so never mind Mal-
colm’s laughing.—But you must remember,

76 WATER-ANIMALS.

sir, that you were going on your own re-
sponsibility to shoot seals on the Seal
Islands, which you would soon be request-
ed to leave.” ty
“The government can keep its old seals,
then!” said Malcolm in disgust; “/ don’t
want ’em!” |
“The government zwz// keep its old seals,
and its young ones too,” was the laughing
reply, “until the proper time comes for
killing them. This is done by the people
of the islands, who carry on the business
rapidly and skillfully according to the terms
of the lease. Only one hundred thousand
young males, not less than a year old, are
allowed to be killed in one season, and this
is accomplished in a few weeks by .the
natives, who receive forty cents a skin,
thus dividing forty thousand dollars every
year among themselves, or a little over four
hundred dollars to each working man and
boy. The company sells to the natives an
extensive assortment of goods, embracing
all the necessaries of life and many of the
luxuries, at the wholesale prices of the
San Francisco market; and as all widows

SEALS AT HOME. 77

and orphans are cared for and supported
voluntarily by the company, it will be seen
that these people are better off than any

similar class of working-men in our country,
or perhaps in the world.

“ But I know,” continued the young lady,
“that you care more for hearing about the
seals, and how the poor things are captured
and killed. It is a very easy thing, and
four or five men can manage thousands of
them without danger, as you may suppose
from this description of the animals’ indif-
ference to the presence of human beings:

“*A walk of half a mile down from the
village to the reef on St. Paul Island, any
time during September, will carry you to
the parade-grounds of over two hundred
thousand pups, among whom you can slowly
make your way while they clear out from
your path ahead and close again in your
rear, you only interrupting them in their
sleep or play for a few moments. This
reef-ground in September and early October
is a strange spectacle as you walk through
legions of semi-indifferent seals, some timid,
others boldly defiant, though all give you

78 WATER-ANIMALS.

room enough to move safely over the length
and breadth of the mighty breeding-ground,
the summer haunt of a million of animals
universally deemed wild. Creatures which
will fight one with another to the death
rather than forsake their stands on the
rookeries, will yet permit you to approach
them to within almost reaching distance
without injury; old bulls which will die
before they will leave their posts, yet lie
down and sleep while you stand by to
sketch or observe them scarcely ten feet
distant. No other wild animals in the brute
world will permit this immediate attention
from man, but the fur-seal is in no way.
whatever concerned if not purposely ha-
rassed or driven from its position.’ ”’

“T shouldn’t want to walk through them,”
said Clara, as Miss Harson showed them a
picture of a large drove of these animals.

“But there’s a cunning tie one,” said
Edith, delightedly; “it looks like a lamb.”

“But the poor little lamb will not be
spared by the butcher,” was the reply, “for
the drove of seals is on its way to the vil-

lage; and if the ground is hard and the

SEALS AT HOME. 79

weather cool and foggy, the animals will
travel at the rate of about half a mile an
hour. They have frequent resting-spells, .
yet many of them fall down senseless on
the road, getting up again, perhaps, after
some hours, while some die on the spot.
They are driven to the salt-houses near the
village, and the animals move on with very
little trouble to their drivers, except when
they drop down from exhaustion. They
have an odd way of stringing themselves
out in long files as they travel, and it is
said that a drove of four or five thousand
will stretch over a path more than a mile in
length.”

“What are salt-houses, Miss Harson ?”
asked Malcolm; “and do the seals eat
salt ?”

“No; the salt-houses are for the benefit
of the skins. The seals are easily killed
with a blow on the head, and they are
skinned as soon as possible by the natives,
for if left on the animal even for a few
hours they lose much of their value. The
skins are taken up to the salt-houses of the
company, where they are spread out on

80 WATE R-ANIMALS.

benches or bins, one upon the other, with
salt profusely sprinkled over and on the
fleshy sides, which are turned uppermost;
and after lying in this pickle for a week or
two, they are taken up from the bins, fresh
salt is scattered over them and they are
bundled up for shipment.”

“And those are our pretty sealskins,
then ?” said Clara, thoughtfully, “and that
is the way we get them?”

“They are not quite our pretty sealskins
yet,’ replied her governess; “and to see
them in their natural condition you would
not recognize them. ‘The over-coat of hair
is pulled out and the soft close fur is dyed
a rich dark brown before the skins are
ready for use. It is a great art to dress
seal-fur properly, and only a few furriers are
able to do it. ‘This, in addition to the bleak
and distant regions where the animals are
found, keeps sealskin dearer than most
other furs.” .

“What do the rest of the seals do?”
asked Edith; “do they go back to the
places where they came from?”

“Yes, dear; most of them have left the

SEALS AT HOME. SI

islands by the middle of November, and
the stragglers are soon driven off by ice
and snow, on which they do not like to lie.
They live in the water all winter, passing
down south and out over the vast expanse
of the North Pacific Ocean, where they fish
and sleep and lead a generally free and
easy life.”

“Do they eat fish, Miss Harson ?” asked
Clara.

“Small fish and crabs are their principal
food; they are also said to swallow a great
many pebbles, as hens eat gravel, to help
the digestion. ‘These queer animals do not
look as if they could be expert at ———
any live thing.”

“Why, they haven’t got any ears!” ex-
claimed Edith. “Just look at ’em in the
picture |”

“The ear of a seal is very small, and, in-
stead of being open, it is rolled up like a
scroll. It cannot raise and lower its ears,
like cats and dogs; but from their shape, it
is evident that they serve to protect the in-
ternal ear from the water pressure should

the animal dive deeply and stay down long
6

$2 WATER-ANIMALS.

in quest of food or to avoid enemies. The
sense of hearing is exceedingly keen, and
although, by taking great care, a seal may
be approached while asleep near enough to
touch it without its notice, yet the least
noise will arouse the animal, which will rise
erect with a single motion and look con-
fusedly around for the cause of the disturb-
ance. If it is an old bull, it will roar at the
intruder in loud, prolonged, angry tones;
if a young male or female, it will snort with
amazement and immediately shuffle off to a
safe distance.” |

“They must look comical then,” said
Malcolm ; “I'd like to see one snorting and
shufflling.”’

“It is just possible,” was the laughing
reply, “that you might do a little shuffling
yourself—or perhaps something faster. In
spite of its small ears—and the hazr-seal
has no visible ears at all—this animal has
shown a fondness for music. A traveler.to
Spitzbergen says that at the sound of a
violin which was’ played on board the ves-
sel a large number of seals would surround
the ship and follow it for miles, apparently

SEALS AT HOME. 83

enjoying every scrape of the bow. A great
Scotch poet mentions this peculiarity in the
lines: |

‘Rude Heiskar’s seals, through surges dark,
Will long pursue the minstrel’s bark.’ ”’

“Did he mean our Alaska seals?” asked
Clara.

“No, dear; he was speaking of the seals
found on the coasts of the Shetland Islands,
to the north of Scotland. I will tell you
something about those islands to-morrow ;
but now it is bedtime for all people under
five feet and two inches high.”

Malcolm proudly measured himself, inch
for inch, with his laughing young governess,
but he only received a pinch on the cheek
with his good-night kiss, and took up his
line of march in the family procession.

ipl FLAP LE RN

SLIF PER Y PETS,

“T REMEMBER the Shetland ponies,”
said Edith as she nestled up to Miss
Harson.

“There are several other things to re-
member about Shetland,’ was the reply;
“Shetland-wool shawls are really beautiful
in their lace-like texture, and were very
much worn some years ago, while Shet-
land stockings were equally famous, and
men, women and children would knit in-
dustriously all day long, even while em-
ployed in doing other things. But when
stockings were made by machinery knitting
was no longer profitable, and Shetland
became the poorer for it.” —

“It was poor enough before, wasn’t it?”
asked Malcolm.

“Yes; the northern coast of Scotland,
where the ninety islands called Shetland

84

SLIPPERY PETS. 85

are to be found, is particularly desolate and
barren-looking—just the place for seals and
sea-creatures. The country itself is so
poor that scarcely a tree can be seen in all
the length and breadth of it, and the birds
have to live on the ground, as they can
find neither trees nor hedges in which to
set up housekeeping. The crows build
their nests of fish-bones, for want of twigs.”

“Isn't that funny!’ said Clara; “I
shouldn’t think they’d know how to build
any nests at all without trees.”

“Does it not plainly show that they are
taught of God?” asked her governess.
“We know that he cares for the sparrows,
and here, in this desolate part of the world,
the needs of the humblest creatures he
places there are all provided for.”

It was indeed wonderful, and the children
were silent for a moment, until Malcolm
exclaimed :

“T can’t think, Miss Harson, what a place
looks like without any trees at all.”

“You can think of the seashore, can you
not? It looks like that, only worse. A
visitor to one of the Shetland Islands said:

86 WATER-ANIMALS.

‘The tallest and grandest tree I saw dur-
ing my stay on the island was a stalk of
rhubarb nearly seven feet high, which had
run to seed and waved its head majestically
in a garden below the fort, looking quite
shady and ornamental.’ ”’

How the little audience laughed at this
rhubarb shade-tree, with their own mag-
nificent elms, now coated with icicles and
glittering in the sunshine, in full view all
around them! ‘They were beginning to see
that their lines had been cast in pleasant
places.

“Don’t they have anything there but
ground?” asked Edith, sympathizingly.

“Oh yes, dear; they have grass and
rocks. But you will think this not much
better. The whole region is so rocky that.
walking in Shetland is very hard work, and —
only the heaviest shoes can stand it. An
old gentleman there used to say that he
wore in the morning three rows of nails on
the soles of his shoes, but when he was in
full dress he had only two. Shetland is
preferable to Alaska, because it is not so
cold and so far away; but the people are

SLIPPERY PETS. 87

almost as poor, and they have to work
harder. Like the Aleuts, they drink a
great deal of tea, which they care far more
for than they do for bread; and they are
very kind to each other and hospitable to
strangers. They will share their last mouth-
ful with a hungry person, and no one is
ever allowed to starve unless all perish
together.”

“Then the poor things don’t even have
enough to eat!” exclaimed Clara. “Oh,
Miss Harson! can’t they do anything to
make some money ?”

“Very little, Clara,” was the reply, “and
that little is so terribly dangerous that
many lives are lost in doing it. The high
steep rocks which fringe these islands are
full of sea-birds’ nests, and men and boys
are constantly occupied in gathering the
eggs, which are thickly deposited in the
most inaccessible places. Fatal accidents
are so frequent among these rocks that
the Shetland people sometimes say to each
other, ‘Your grandfather fell, your father
fell and you must follow, too.’ Others
boast over their companions on account of

88 WATER-ANIMALS.

these very accidents by saying, ‘Your father
died in his bed, but mine went off like a
man.’ ” |

“That isn’t so wonderfully kind,” said
Malcolm. “I thought the people were so
good to each other?”

“Tt is not intended for unkindness, but
they like to boast a little now and then.
These egg-gatherers are often suspended
over projecting cliffs of many hundred feet
by a single rope, which is so rubbed and
cut by the sharp edges of rock that it
sometimes breaks, and the unfortunate
climber falls headlong to the immense
depth below.”

“Oh!” was the general exclamation.

“Ttis very dreadful to ws,” continued Miss
Harson, “who know nothing of such dan-
gers by experience; but in Shetland, where
violent deaths are not uncommon, the sur-
vivors find comfort in the thought that at
least ‘he went off like a man.’ Traveling
among these islands, from one to another,
is very difficult and dangerous, and a min-
ister who had charge of two different
churches that were separated by a broad

=

SLIPPERY PETS. 89

and dangerous ferry was often rowed by
six men, who vainly tried to get him across.
After pulling incessantly for three or four
hours, and coming in sight of his church
and the assembled congregation, he has
been obliged to relinquish all hope of land-
ing, while it was about equally difficult to
reach the opposite shore.”

The children wondered that any one
would live in such a place; but presently
Malcolm added:

“T suppose, though, Miss Harson, that
it’s just what seals and such creatures like ?”

“The rocks and the wild waters are cer-
tainly like the places they inhabit,” replied
his governess, “and seals are frequently
seen on the coasts of Shetland. Seal-
hunting has always been one of the most
profitable occupations among these barren
islands, notwithstanding the superstition
that the se/kzes, or hoff-fish, as the islanders
call them, are fallen spirits, and that evil
will certainly happen to him who kills one.
They think that when the blood of a seal
touches the water, the sea begins to rise
and swell. Those who shoot them notice

90 WATER-ANIMALS.

that gulls appear to watch carefully over
them, and a Scotch naturalist declared that
‘he had seen a gull scratch a seal to warn
it of his approach’ !”

“What funny things animals do!” said
Edith, in great amusement over this per-
formance.

“These harbor-seals, as they usually are,”
continued the young lady, “have very hu-
man faces, and it is supposed that these
have given rise to the absurd stories of
mermaids which are so common in this re-
gion. Ignorant people declare that they
can easily be caught with the rather curious
bait of a comb and looking- glass.”

“Were there ever such things as mer-
maids?” asked Clara.

“Never, dear; but years ago, when peo-
ple were very ignorant of natural history,
a strong imagination could turn a seal’s
head, just seen above the water, into some-
thing of this sort. The large brown eyes
are quite different from those of an ordi-
nary animal, and a harbor-seal clasping its
young one with its fore flipper is very hu-
man indeed. They are easily tamed, and

SLIPPERY PETS. gli

in Shetland a domestic seal is quite a com-
mon sight. They are frequently caught in
the caves which abound there, and in a
short time they are so perfectly at home
that they will shuffle along with any of the
family who go to milk the cows, that they
may get a drink. Sometimes they will
take to the water and forage for food, but
nearly always return.”

“T should think they’d Zave to hunt up
something for themselves in such a poor
place as Shetland,” said Malcolm.

“A naturalist had one which, he says,
‘was taken by myself from a cave when
only a few hours old, and in a day or two
became as attached as adog tome. The
varied movements and sounds by which he
expressed delight at my presence and re-
gret at my absence were most affecting:
these sounds were as like as possible to the
inarticulate tones of the human voice. I
know no animal capable of displaying more
affection than he did, and his temper was
the gentlest imaginable. I kept him for
four or five weeks, feeding him entirely on
warm milk from the cow; in my temporary

Q2 WATER-ANIMALS.

absence buttermilk was given to him, and
he died soon after.’”’

“What a pity!” exclaimed the children.

“But how could buttermilk kill him?”
asked Clara; “it doesn’t hurt pigs.”

Miss Harson smiled at this excellent
reason as she replied:

“It may be good for pigs, but evidently
it is not good for young seals; and I sup-
pose, dear, that it killed him by disagreeing
with him. Whether he had cramps or
cholera morbus we are not able to tell.”

“We won't give our seals buttermilk,
then,” said Malcolm;—“so remember,
Clara.”

His sister laughingly promised to bear it
in mind, and their governess asked, quite
gravely, if they wanted any more stories
about seals. Any more? when that was
the first approach to a story they had
heard !

“Well, then, this same naturalist cap-
tured another young seal, who soon became
familiar with the household, but would allow
no one to touch her except her master. She
had an amusing habit of exploring the house,

SLIPPERY PETS. 93

and was evidently bent on examining every
room, going up the stairs for this purpose
with surprising ease. Her going down
was even faster if she met any one who
pretended to be angry at seeing her there.

««She was fed from the first,’ says her
owner, ‘on fresh fish alone, and grew and
fattened considerably. We had her carried
down daily in a handbarrow to the seaside,
where an old excavation admitting the salt
water was abundantly roomy and deep for
her recreation and our observation. After
sporting and diving for some time, she
would come ashore, and seemed perfectly
to understand the use of the barrow.
Often she tried to waddle from the house
to the water or from the latter to her apart-
ment; but finding this fatiguing and seeing
preparations by her chairman, she would of
her own accord mount her palanquin and
thus be carried as composedly as any Hin-
du princess. By degrees we ventured to
let her go fairly into the sea, and she regu-
larly returned after a short interval; but
one day, during a thick fall of snow, she
was imprudently let off as usual, and, being

94 WATER-ANIMALS.

decoyed some distance out of sight of the
shore by some wild ones which happened
to be in the bay at the time, she either
could not find her way back or voluntarily
decamped. She was, we understood, killed
shortly afterward in a neighboring inlet.
We had kept her about six months, and
every moment she was becoming more
familiar; we had dubbed her “ Finna,”’ and
she seemed to know her name.’”’

“Oh!” exclaimed Edith, sighing almost
as if she had lost a seal, “how sorry they
must have been! And how funny it must
have looked to see a seal going up and
down stairs!”

“T should think she would have tumbled
down every time she tried it,” said Mal-
colm; “how could such a slippery creature
get up stairs, Miss Harson, when she hadn’t -
anything to hold on with?”

“You forget her flippers,” was the reply ;
“and I have really seen two seals go up
and down stairs, so I know that it can be
done.” :

Three amazed pairs of eyes were staring
as hard as they could at the speaker, while

BLIPPEL AY PETS. 95

their owners wondered where Miss Harson
could have been when this took place.

“These seals were on exhibition at the
New York Aquarium,” continued the young
lady, “ever so many years ago, when I was
a little girl, and they were named ‘Ned’
and ‘Fanny.’ Both would walk up a short
flight of stairs to a platform—such funny,
floundering walking as it was!—when
called by name, and Fanny, who was the
more accomplished of the two, would ring
a bell for dinner, bow to the spectators and
then eagerly catch and devour the pieces
of fish thrown by the keeper from a pail in
his hand. She was a most intelligent-look-
ing creature, and evidently took great pride
in ‘showing off;) but when Ned tried to
put himself forward she always pushed
him aside. She seemed really jealous of
any attempt on his part to attract public
attention.”

The children were so much amused with
Fanny that they “wished there had been
more of her; and then Miss Harson re-
membered reading about two seals in the
zoological garden at Amsterdam which were

96 WATER-ANIMALS.

so fond of their keeper that they could
recognize his voice a long way off, and
would run to meet him.
“These seals also became attached to an
_ old gentleman and his little granddaughter,
who often went to see them in company
with a little woolly dog, and who always
took the seals something nice to eat. These
animals were kept in a large pond, and
they would come out of the water on see-
ing their friends, and sit down with them to
have a good time on the sand. The small
dog was very lively on these occasions, and ©
he and the seals would frolic together as
though they belonged to the same family,
and shared the fruit and cakes from the little
girl’s basket. One day, however, in the
midst of their fun, the dog fell into the
pond, and after struggling for a moment
in the water he sank. The seals uttered a
cry of dismay as he disappeared, and then,
shuffling to the pond, they plunged in. In
an instant the larger one had seized the
half-drowned dog, and, carrying him very
tenderly in his mouth, placed the dripping
animal at his little mistress’s feet.”

f MAS dd
A AALS
4 Marys CA

CA ft -4d. gid
jy
4 A A y f
ta Md fe ‘y Ys 7, Th, f
gp LL

C4

AN AFFECTIONATE SEAL.

98 WATER-ANIMALS.

“That was splendid!” said Malcolm.
“They’re the best seals we have had yet.”

“One who has visited the London zoo-
logical gardens speaks of several interest-
ing seals which he saw there,’ continued
Miss Harson, “He says:

“«They would climb out of the tank and
stand upon the stone ledge, leaning against
the iron railing begging for food, and then,
quick as lightning, throw themselves into
the water, splashing us well if we were not
on the lookout for their pranks. In the
water they would dive, twist, turn and roll
with wonderful grace and swiftness. Their
keeper was an old Frenchman whom they
well knew, and whose kind treatment at-
tached them to him. He puta chair within
the railing and sat on it. At his call the
seals would climb to his side; then, at his
word, they would dive into the water again.
They clambered into his lap, and kissed him
with their wet noses at his bidding. He
left the chair, and in response to his com-
mand a seal took his place on it, to plunge
again, when bidden, into the water.’ ”’

It was, of course, a great sorrow that

THE SEAL COUNTRY. 99

these charming animals could not be seen;
but Miss Harson comforted her eager little
flock by telling them that just as wonderful
seals might be in store for them in the
future, when they could better appreciate
them from having learned so much about
them beforehand.

“Tt is sazd,”’ continued the young lady,
“that a very highly-educated seal, exhibited
in Paris, could utter some words quite
plainly, so that visitors could easily distin-
guish such words as ‘cake,’ ‘coffee,’ ‘eat,’
‘thank you;’ and even short sentences,
like Vive le ror! Bonjour, monsteur, and Fe
suis Frangais/ But this seems an impossi-
bility, and the nearest approach to words
was probably like the sounds made by the
young seal that died of buttermilk.”

CHA PPER CVT.

SOME BIG COUSTAS,

¢ HAT dreadful-looking creatures!”

exclaimed everybody generally ;
and they certainly were not pretty in the
picture.

Fdie said that the biggest one in front
was awful—it looked like an old man and a
monkey, and it had tusks like an elephant;
but here Miss Harson stopped her:

“Tt is not ‘awful, dear, for it is a very
harmless creature unless attacked; and
you know I[ have told you how seldom that
word can be used. It does look something
like an old man and a monkey when you
see the full face, but its tusks are not much
like those of an elephant, as we shall see
presently. This very ungainly-looking ani-
mal is a big cousin of the seal, and it is
known by the various names of walrus,

morse and sea-horse. It is seldom found
100

SOME BIG COUSINS. IOI

out of the Arctic regions, although an
occasional one has been killed off the coast
of Shetland. Like the polar bear, how- —
ever, the walrus has evidently been formed
by its Creator for a life among icy seas,
and there it is now found, often in large
herds. It is described as ‘somewhat re-
sembling an enormous pig, with coarse
whiskers, a pair of huge tusks descending
from the upper jaw, flippers instead of legs,
and no tail whatever. A full-grown walrus
weighs from twenty-five hundred to three
thousand pounds, and his skin, blubber and
tusks constitute his attractions in the eyes
of the hunter.’”’

“T should think,’ said Malcolm, “that his
tusks would be always in the way when he
tries to eat.”

“On the contrary, they are of great use
to him in scraping up from the rocks and
out of the sand the mussels and other
shellfish on which he loves to feed, and
also to grapple and get along with, for
they help the animal in raising itself on the
ice. They are also powerful weapons of
defence against its enemies, especially the

IO2 WATE R-ANIMALS.

fierce, prowling polar bear. The elephant’s
tusks generally grow outward, but those
of the walrus ‘slant in an opposite direction,
but can, in spite of this, be used like great
swords. |

“Although the walrus seldom attacks
men, even when they are swimming among
the fragments of a crushed boat, he is by
no means cowardly. He will readily fight
any animal which he does not suspect
of having a harpoon concealed about it.
Not only do the bulls fight savagely among
themselves, but a walrus will often engage
and defeat the polar bear. The latter finds
it comparatively useless to hug an animal
which is defended by an unusually tough
hide lined with layers of elastic blubber,
while, on the other hand, the walrus inflicts
painful, and frequently fatal, wounds on the
bear with his sharp curved tusks. If the
walrus happens to have plenty of leisure
on his hands, he will sometimes strike his
tusks deep into the bear and drag him
down to the bottom. ‘Then, while the bear
is drowning, the walrus tears his body
into fragments with great dexterity and

SOME BIG COUSINS. 103

leaves the pieces for the benefit of casual
sharks.”

The children could not feel sorry for the
polar bear, while the walrus rose considera-
bly in their estimation.

“He seems to have real Jaws in front,”
said Clara, looking at the picture; “don't
they come out a great deal more than the
seal’s flippers ?”

“Yes, replied her governess; “this
animal gets along much better out of water
than its smaller cousin, as it can support its
great body quite clear of the ground. Its
movements, however, are very awkward,
its hind limbs shuffling along as if enclosed
inasack. Walruses have been found that
were twelve, and even fourteen, feet long
and nine feet around. ‘These creatures
were so heavy that it was almost impossible
to turn them over. They are quite playful,
in spite of their clumsiness, when at home
in the icy sea, and in fine weather herds of
them may be seen on large pieces of ice,
where they roll and frolic about and bellow
like somany bulls. After a period of these
antics they all go to sleep, with the excep-

104 WATER-ANIMALS.

tion of one who acts as a sentinel to warn
them of any danger. They are very cau-
tious animals, and the sentinel watches
faithfully, but the only warning he gives
when an enemy approaches is to rush to
a place of safety; and as the sleeping herd
lie huddled on one another, the motion of
one is felt by all the others, who ‘instantly
tumble, one over the other, into the sea—
headforemost if possible, but failing that,
anyhow.’ ”’

Malcolm thought it must be great fun to
see them go over; but when his governess
explained to him what travelers had to en-
dure in the perils of an Arctic voyage to
see this fun, he was not quite so enthusiastic
about it.

“Nova Zembla and Spitzbergen,’ contin-
ued Miss Harson, “where the walrus par-
ticularly loves to dwell, are not attractive
places to human beings, and the only men
ever found there are some ship's crew or
an exploring-party in search of the North-
west passage. Here the walrus revels, for
as a general thing his enemies do not pur-
sue him thus far; but some time ago he ts

SOME BIG COUSINS. 105

said to have been found near the Shetland
Islands and on the whole extent of the Nor-
way coast. He went farther and farther
as the hunters encroached upon him, until
he came to a halt in the icy seas around
Spitzbergen.

“Even here, however, his active enemy
the polar bear is perfectly at home, and
when hungry he is always on the watch for
animals asleep upon the ice, and tries to
steal on them unawares as they dart
through their breathing-holes. ‘One sun-
shiny day,’ says a traveler, ‘a walrus nine
or ten feet in length rose in a pool of
water not very far from us, and after look-
ing around drew his clumsy body upon the
ice, where he rolled about for a time, and at
length laid himself down to sleep. A bear
which had probably been observing his
movements crawled carefully upon the ice
on the opposite side of the pool, and began
to roll about also, but apparently more with
design than amusement, as he gradually
lessened the distance between him and his
prey. The walrus, suspicious of his ad-
vances, drew himself up for a hasty retreat

106 WATER-ANIMALS.

into the water in case of a nearer acquaint-
ance with his playful but treacherous visitor ;
on which the bear was instantly motionless,
as if in the act of sleep, but after a time
began to lick his paws and clean himself,
occasionally encroaching a little more upon
his intended victim.

“« But even this artifice did not succeed;
the wary walrus was far too cunning to al-
low himself to be entrapped, and suddenly
plunged into the pool, which the bear no
sooner observed than he threw off all dis-
guise, rushed toward the spot and followed
him in an instant into the water, where, I
fear, he was as much disappointed in his
meal as we were in the pleasure of wit-
nessing a very interesting encounter,’ ”’

“Tm glad he got away from that horrid
bear,”. said Edith, with great relief.

“But think how hungry the poor bear
was!” said her brother, teasingly. “Sup-
pose, now, that when you wanted your
dinner the oysters and chickens and all
the rest of the things took to running
away?”

“Well, they aren’t alive,’ was the per-

us

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vp <a
B

Tie
ial

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i

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A SCENE IN THE ARCTIC OCEAN,

108 | WATER-ANIMALS.

plexed reply. “But I know you're laughing
at me, Malcolm.”

“Well, you're ‘nine, axzyway, ” said this
tease of a brother; and then Miss Harson
had to take him in hand. _

“What does the walrus eat?” asked Clara.

“Very much what the seal does; and,
huge as the creature is, he seems to live on
shellfish and sea-weeds. He is said, how-
ever, to be fond of young seals, and he
frequently swallows pebbles larger than
walnuts. In captivity he has been fed on
oatmeal and vegetables.”

“Do walruses act like seals?’ asked Mal-
colm; “IJ mean when caught and tamed.”

“They are not so intelligent,” replied his
governess, “and are quite too heavy to in-
dulge in tricks, but young ones have occa-
sionally been taken and exhibited. Of one
of these it is said that ‘though quite young,
it was nearly four feet in length, and when
the person who used to feed it came into
the room it would give him an affectionate
greeting in a voice somewhat resembling
the cry of a calf, but considerably louder.
It walked about, but, owing to its weakness,

SOME BIG COUSINS. 109

soon grew tired and lay down.’ A young
walrus is a very funny-looking object, being
nearly as broad as it is long, and it seems
to get from one place to another by a series
of tumbles. Three of these comical crea-
tures were caught some years ago by a
yachting-party in the Arctic regions and
kept in a pen on deck, where they were
carefully fed, like babies, from a_ bottle.
They soon became tame, and spent most
of their time in sleeping, clamoring for food
and grunting and squealing like so many
pigs.”

Edith said she wouldn’t care to have
such pets, and the others fully agreed with
her.

“Little walruses, however, are considered
by their mothers very charming,” continued
the young lady, “and they will protect them
from danger at any risk to themselves.
A voyager to Spitzbergen says:

“«We were greatly amused by the singu-
lar and affectionate conduct of a walrus
toward its young. In the vast sheet of ice
which surrounded the ship there were
occasionally many pools, and when the

IIo WATER-ANIMALS.

weather was clear and warm animals of
various kinds would frequently rise and
sport about in them, or crawl from the water
upon the ice to bask in the warmth of the

OSS
—

- WALRUS AND YOUNG.

sun. A walrus rose in one of these pools
close to the ship, and, finding everything
quiet, dived down and brought up its
young, which it held to its breast by press-
ing it with its flipper. In this manner it
moved about the pool, keeping in an erect
posture and always directing the face of
the young toward the vessel. On the
slightest movement on board, the mother
released her flipper and pushed the young

SOME BIG COUSINS. ill

one under water, but when everything was
quiet brought it up as before, and for a
length of time continued to play about in
the pool, to the great amusement of the
seamen, who gave her credit for abilities in
tuition which, though possessed of con-
siderable sagacity, she hardly merited.’ ”’

“It must be great fun,” said Malcolm,
rather wistfully, “to see such queer things
up there among the icebergs. Wish it
wasn't so cold.”

“Tf it wasn't,’ replied his governess,
“the ‘things’ wouldn’t be there; besides,
it is not only the cold that keeps us from
going to Spitzbergen. So I think you will
have to content yourself at Elmridge fora
while longer; the rest of us do not care to
hunt walruses.”

“What do people hunt them for, Miss
Harson?” asked Clara. “Do they have
fur, like seals?”

“No, dear; they have not fur, but they
have very tough, valuable skins, which are
used for a variety of purposes, principally
for harness and sole leather. Between the
skin and the flesh there is a great mass of

II2 WATER-ANIMALS.

blubber, which is made into oil; while the
ivory of the tusks is used for a great many
small articles. When a walrus is killed he
is dragged on the ice and stripped of his
valuables. The skin, with the blubber
adhering to it, and the tusks are brought
to the sloop, where the blubber is separated
from the skin and stowed away in tanks
without being ‘tried out.’ The skins are
packed in salt and the tusks are carefully
laid away. The blubber is generally sold
for about forty dollars, the skin for fifteen
and the ivory for ten, so that a full-grown
walrus, when killed, is worth sixty-five
dollars.”

“T shouldn’t think a walrus would be
easy to catch,” said Malcolm, “if he is so
cunning in getting away from the polar
bear and has a sentinel to watch while he
is asleep.”

“He is neither easy to catch nor easy
to kill,’ was the reply; “not that he is a
dangerous animal in himself, but because
of the terribly cold, bare regions where he
chooses to dwell. The walrus-sloops are
often wrecked on the rocks that belt the

SOME BIG COUSINS. IIl3

coast of Spitzbergen, or are walled up in
some fiord or cave, into which they may
have ventured, by the sudden packing of
the ice. In the former case the crew may
take to their boats, and either steer for
Norway or try to fall in with some other
vessel of the walrus fleet. When, however,
the Arctic pack sweeps down and impris-
ons an incautious sloop, her people are com-
pelled to winter in the frightful cold of Spitz-
bergen, where the thermometer often sinks
to 45° below zero, and even lower.”

“What aid it feel like to be so cold?”
the children wondered; but Miss Harson
said that the danger lay in not feeling at
all, as those who were exposed to such
bitter cold often froze to death.

“The walrus-hunters are chiefly Nor-
wegians, who are better accustomed to
intense cold than we are; and the two
walrus-boats attached to each vessel are
very strongly built and painted white, so that
they will not be noticed amid the ice, thus
giving the cautious animal warning and a
chance to escape before he is attacked. A

peculiar kind of harpoon is used for secur-
8

114 WATER-ANIMALS.

ing the prey, and lances are carried with
which to kill him after he is harpooned.

“But the walrus, it seems, is not an easy
beast to kill. The hunters usually try to
steal on him in their boats while he is sleep-
ing on an iceberg, in what he considers
a warm and sunny spot. He sleeps so
lightly that it is probably easier to catch six,
or possibly eight, weasels asleep than it is
to approach one sleeping walrus without
waking him; and it is necessary to be near
the animal in order to harpoon him. There
are also difficulties in the way of shooting
a walrus. If he is not killed outright at
the first shot, he will certainly roll into the
water, sink to the bottom and die where he
can be of no possible use to any one.”

“Well,” said Edith, quite indignant at
this view of the matter, “I should think |
they might care a little about the poor
walrus!”

“IT am afraid they never do that, dear;
hunters are apt to be quite unfeeling. Itis
well known to walrus-hunters that a mother
will not desert her calf, but will carry it
under her flipper or keep close to it, and that

A WALRUS HUNT.

116 | WATER-ANIMALS.

the rest of the herd will stay beside her.
The harpooner will therefore attack a baby-
walrus, if he sees one, rather than the
largest grown animal, for he knows that
its cries will keep the mother from escap-
ing, and that her companions will not
desert her. Sometimes, however, the wal-
ruses have become indignant at such un-
feeling conduct, and turned upon their pur-
suers and torn the boat to pieces. But
this was all the harm they did, and instead
of attacking their enemies, they only im-
proved the chance for getting out of their
way. It is said that a Norwegian skipper
was once seized by a cow-walrus and
dragged three times down to the bottom;
but the skipper declared that the animal
took him for her calf, and meant to be
affectionate instead of revengeful.”

“T don’t see how he got away from her,”
said Clara; “and it was wonderfully good
of those other walruses not to eat up the
hunters after they got them into the
water.”

“My dear child,” was the laughing reply,
“they probably had no more desire to eat

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COOL SPORT.

118 WATER-ANIMALS.

them up than we should have, as the walrus
is not carnivorous, except in the matter of
young seals and shellfish. At least he has
never been known to feed upon human
flesh.” : |
“Does any one feed on “zs flesh, Miss
Harson ?” asked Malcolm.

“Yes, I believe the Norwegians will eat
it, and the heart is considered quite a deli-
cacy. But the Eskimos are its greatest
admirers. To them there is no greater
treat than a kettle well filled with walrus-
blubber, and to the natives along Behring’s
Strait this quadruped is as valuable as is the
palm to the sons of the desert. Their ca-
noes are covered with its skin; their weap-
ons and sledge-runners and many useful
articles are formed from its tusks; their
lamps are filled with its oil; and they them-
selves are fed with its fat and its fibre. So
thick is the skin that a bayonet is almost
the only weapon which can pierce it. Cut
into shreds, it makes excellent cordage,
being especially adapted for wheel-ropes.

“You see, then, that walrus-hunting is
not carried on from love of cruelty to

SOME BIG COUSINS. 11g

harmless animals, but because without this
valuable aid the poor people whose lot is
cast in frozen regions would scarcely ee
able to live at all.”

CHAPTER Vik

SOME MISSION-WORK,

DITH’S twisted ankle was now quite

well again, and she was skating away

as merrily as ever, in spite of frequent tum-

bles. Teasing Malcolm suggested that she

should have one long skate made to fit her

back, as that was ie position she seemed
to like best on the ice.

But Edie only laughed at this with rosy
cheeks and sparkling eyes, and Sim Jute
and his friends thought the merry little
lady, who always seemed so good-natured,
about the prettiest picture to be seen any-
where—excepting, perhaps, Miss Harson,
for whom their admiration had _ never
cooled—while Clara was pronounced “a
regular beauty’ and Malcolm “a tip-top
fellow.” It is so easy to win with a little
well-directed kindness! and some very

troublesome boys had been judiciously set
120

SOME MISSION-WORK. I2I

to work and kept out of the mischief that
is sure to go hand in hand with idleness.

It was a funny enough little shanty that
had sprung up on the side of the pond far-
thest from Elmridge, and in the line of quite
—astream of travel; for it was near the sta-
tion, and so, besides the skaters, there were
other people who liked the comfort of a
cup of hot coffee in cold weather. Gentle-
men who had several miles to drive after
leaving the cars would stop and patronize
Sim, and even Mr. Kyle had tasted his
coffee and said that it did him credit.

How that wooden box with a roof and
with a stove-pipe sticking out at one side had
ever got together it would be hard to say ;
but the carpenter did a little and the boys
did a great deal; somebody gave an old
stove; Mr. Kyle gave a ton of coal; Miss
Harson gave several pounds of coffee;
and Sim worked out the milk and sugar
in odd jobs. Then the pennies began to
come in, and this very original coffee-room
was doing a good business.

It was a proud and happy moment for
the young proprietor when Miss Harson

I22 WATER-ANIMALS.

stood there drinking a cup of coffee and
telling him how well he had done; and the
young lady smiled as her glance fell ona
box of peanuts and a jar of candy. Sim
evidently had an eye to the children from —
the district-school, many of whom passed
his “store” on their way back and forth,
and who were not likely to be attracted by
cups of coffee.

“Why, Sim,” said Miss Harson pleasant-
ly, “you area born merchant! Have you
thought of what you are going to do with
your money when the skating season is
over ?—I mean after paying your mother
for her trouble in making the coffee?”

For Mrs. Jute, after calling the plan “a
pack of silly nonsense,” had finally con-
sented to make the coffee, which she did
very well, and she was now quite proud of
Sim and his success. For no one in their
family had accomplished so much before,
and respectable, well-to-do people avoided
the Jutes, who bore anything but a good
name. The father had been idle and shift-
less, and died a miserable drunkard; the
others lived as best they could, having

SOME MISSION-WORK. 123

their wretched little house rent free and
working and begging alternately.

But Sim had begun to long for better
things, and this money which he earned by
honest labor was very precious to him.
He had looked upon it as entirely his own,
and he now replied, rather unwillingly,

“How much must I give her?”

“Why not give her a//?” was the unex-
pected reply. “This seems the better way,
for a son is bound to take care of his
mother.” .

Not very long ago Sim Jute would have
whistled at such a proposition as this; but
now, meeting the steady smiling eyes that
were looking into his, he promised to let
his mother decide as to what should be his:
portion.

Poor woman! she had been so little used
to kind or pleasant acts that when Sim
poured his money into her lap she threw
her apron over her head and cried.

“Tt’s the coffee-money, mother; and now
you'll have a decent shawl and go to
church of a Sunday, as Miss Harson has
wanted us to do.”

124 WATE R-ANIMALS.

“No, Sim,’ was the reply; “I’ve not
been much of a mother to you, but now
you’ve shamed me into it. ‘Take you the
money and buy some shoes and a warm
coat to your back.”

Then Sim objected, for he was now quite
bent on his mother having it all, those un-
expected tears having melted him com-
pletely.

Perhaps Miss Harson had anticipated
this, for just in the midst of the unusual
scene there arrived a parcel from Elmridge
for Mrs. Jute, and in it were found a warm
blanket shawl, a partly-worn dress and a
very respectable bonnet, with coat, shoes
and hat for Sim.

“Praise the Lord, and thank Miss Har-
son!” exclaimed Mrs. Jute, gratefully. Then,
gathering herself energetically together
again, she arose a new woman, twisted
back her hair and put Sim’s money intoa
teapot on the closet-shelf.

“Now go on with the store,” said she,
“and I'll make the coffee better than ever.”

She was as good as her word; and
before long some very nice sandwiches

SOME MISSION-WORK. 125

were added to the stock, so that the funny
little shanty on the edge of the pond,
where skaters and wayfarers could get
coffee and sandwiches and peanuts and
candy, became quite famous.

Malcolm took it upon himself to instruct
Sim in regard to seals and walruses, and
it is scarcely necessary to say that these
instructions were not quite so clear as Miss
Harson would have made them. The re-
sult was a vague idea in Sim’s mind that
these animals somehow grew with the ice,
and that if he watched long enough at any
opening on the pond he would be rewarded
with a prize.

“ Sixty-five dollars,” said the boy to him-
self, “is a big heap of money, and that’s
what the young gentleman said a walrus ’d
bring.”

So Sim waited patiently for a walrus,
with no very clear idea as to how he was to
dispatch the great animal when it appeared;
but he took no one into his confidence, and
he even wished that people wouldn’t want
so many cups of coffee when he was occu-
pied with something more profitable.

’

126 - WATER-ANIMALS.

It all came out one day when the disap-
pointed boy ventured to ask Miss Harson
“if she kuow’d that them animals really
come up through the ice; and after won-
dering for a moment what he meant, the
young lady decided that Malcolm was at
the bottom of this curious notion. A sort
of primer on natural history gave Sim great
pleasure in his leisure hours, while Malcolm
was advised, for the present, to learn instead
of teaching.

“Do you know, Miss Harson,” said
Fdith, in a very coaxing way, “that you
haven't told us a story, except little bits of
ones, in ever so long ?”

“Yes, Miss Harson,” added Clara; “you
owe us one about seals, and another about
walruses.”

“And I am going to read you one,” re-
plied their governess, smiling, “that is not
in the least about either. I wrote it myself,
and I hope you will enjoy it as well as if it
were about seals or walruses. Shall I pro-
ceed ?”’ |

As there were no serious objections, Miss
Harson read the story, which she called

SOME MISSION-WORK. 127

PLANTING IT OUT.

When the Waynes first moved into their
new house it seemed perfectly delightful.
It was such a pleasant change from the
crowded city and a tall, narrow brick house
to this pretty suburb, where they had plenty
of garden-room and a wide house with
numerous doors and windows, and what
Lily called “all sorts of unexpected places
in it.’ They seemed to be constantly mak-
ing discoveries, and so far the discoveries
had all been pleasant ones.

The move was made in early autumn,
when trees and vines and flowers were
looking their very prettiest ; and the family,
which consisted only of Mrs. Wayne and
Lily, Mrs. Wayne’s old school-friend Miss
Goldsby, with the two maids Rosa and
Becky, were soon quite settled and com-
fortable, when suddenly they were intro-
duced to some very unpleasant neighbors.

The neighbors on each side of them
were very nice, but there were some just
beyond the end of the garden on whom
they had not counted; and Lily, who was
just fifteen, and a little disposed to take

128 WATER-ANIMALS.

matters: into her own hands, came running
in one day with flushed cheeks and flashing
eyes, exclaiming that “two horrid boys were
sitting on their fence, and would not get
down. And they threw things at her!”

The little lady looked very angry indeed ;
and when her mother asked quietly, “ What
did you say to them, daughter?” she replied
in great indignation, “I told them they had
no right there on our fence, and if they
didn’t go away I’d send a policeman after
them,”

“And what then ?” |

“Why, then,” bursting into tears, “they
made faces at me and called me names; —
and I don’t like it a bit, there now!” |

Mrs. Wayne looked quite troubled at
this state of affairs as she said to her
friend, }

“T have been a little uneasy about that .
ugly little street back of us, which they call
Poor Man’s lane, and I am afraid that ‘my
duty to my neighbor’ has been too long
delayed. What can we do, Sarah?”

Miss Goldsby was a very energetic-look-
ing lady, with a shrewd, pleasant face, and

SOME MISSTION-WORK. 129

she was never idle a moment, although she
appeared to do very little work for herself.
She was sewing now very diligently, and,
clipping off her thread, she replied as
briefly,

“ Plant them out.”

Lily looked up in amazement, and even
Mrs. Wayne was puzzled.

“JT have heard,’ continued Miss Goldsby
as she selected the right shade of silk from
the brilliant tangle before her, “of planting
out unsightly views with a- thick trellis-
work of vines.—Do you understand my
meaning ?”

“But they'd tear ‘em all down, Aunt
Sarah,” replied Lily, who did not in the
least understand; “they'd just sit on ’em,
and it wouldn’t do any good.”

Miss Goldsby laughed quietly, and Mrs.
Wayne said with a smile,

“T begin to see a little-light. The vines,
I think, are figurative, and the screen we
are to put up is one of kind deeds and
Christian training—something like a mis-
sion-school, for instance ?”

“Very much like it, indeed,’ was the
9

130 WATER-ANIMALS.

reply ; “I know of no better way of trans-
forming ignorant, vicious neighbors into
decent members of society. I really pine
after the two boys who treated Lily so
rudely, and must have them for my own
special scholars.”

“And the Epiphany season is the very
time to tell them of the dear Lord, about
whom perhaps the poor things have never
heard,” said Mrs. Wayne, softly. |

It seemed to little Miss Lily a very funny
way of getting rid of ill-behaved neighbors;
but it was not long before she thoroughly
entered into the spirit of this strange
“planting out,’ and even smiled benevo-
lently upon her two fence enemies. This
did not come about, however, without some
trouble.

Such a miserable, dirty, hopeless-looking
place as Poor Man’s lane was! Two or
three families living in one little house that
was scarcely big enough for two people;
most of the men out of work, and sitting
or lying around talking of hard times and
railing against rich men; while the women
gossiped with each other and left the chil-

SOME MISSION-WORK. 131

dren to take care of themselves. The
poor little things did this wonderfully well,
considering, and they were constantly “ see-
ing after” the younger ones. ,

When the ladies began their visits to
collect scholars for a mission-school, a flerce-
looking woman said to them,

“I s’pose you've come to complain of
my Tommy, if you’re the folks that moved
into the big house beyond there. But
there’s no use in tellin’ tales, for I’m just
sick of hearin’ ’em, and I can’t do nothin’
with him. He gets a beating every day
to make him behave, but the more I whip
him, the worse he acts. You’re welcome
to beat him, too, whenever you can ketch
him.”

This was not likely to be very often; but
Miss Goldsby turned kindly to Tommy,
who was latching and unlatching the door
while his mother gave this unflattering
account of him, and said,

“We want you next Sunday afternoon
to come and bring some other boys to our
mission-school and help us sing. Will you
come, Tommy ?”

132 WATER-ANIMALS.

“Dunno,” replied the young gentleman
as he rushed out of the house.

“He’s bad!” said his mother as she
gazed after him with threatening eyes,
“but he does sing first-rate. Sings hymns
too, though you wouldn’t believe it; he’s
for ever screechin’ ‘I want to be an an-
gel,’ and actin’ like the Old Scratch all the
time.” |

Poor Tommy! the visitors thought he
had very little chance to “behave;’ and
when he appeared, on the very next Sun-
day, with his especial crony “Bangs,” he
was given a seat of honor and treated so
politely that he felt quite uncomfortable.
But Miss Goldsby knew just what to do
with him, and she soon decided that sitting
still was not one of Tommy’s strong points.
He must have active employment to work
off his constant propensity to get into mis-
chief, so he was made librarian, to the great
admiration of the others, although this only
meant carrying the books around.

But Tommy was a sight as he carried —
them, gathering up a huge pile that reached
to his chin, and took more strength to

SOME MISSION-WORK. 133

manage properly than he possessed, while
he looked as if no work could possibly be
so important; and his queer, ill-fitting coat
and the rags at his knees would have been
laughed at had not many of the other chil-
dren looked even queerer. But the funniest
part of Tommy was his head, on the back
of which the hair grew just like feathers,
sticking up and spreading out in a way that
made Miss Goldsby think of an Indian
chief.

She smiled pleasantly, however, at the
little fellow tugging his burden along, and
told him that she should call 7, “the
willing one.’ Tommy looked sheepish,
and felt a pleasant glow of contentment
that made him forget to behave badly.

“Bangs,” who got his name because of
his front hair, that curled up and stuck out
like a girl's, carried a burden too, but it
was one that he brought with him. It was
in the form of a small girl who looked
cross and heavy and answered to the name
of “Tilda Jane.” “Bangs,” otherwise Dan,
was her brother and nurse, and he seldom
thought of moving without her. She was a

134 WATER-ANIMALS.

large armful for two years old, and she was
generally crying—for no reason, that any
one could see, but because she liked it.
Dan was as good to her as possible, and at
home she had things quite her own way;
but still she cried.

Tilda Jane’s mouth was drawn down at
the corners now, but there were no tears
to be seen, and her round eyes were wide
open with wonder at the doings of the
mission-school. She liked all the faces
and the singing, and whenever her brother
held up his hand and promptly answered
some question, she looked at him quite
approvingly. :

He was a bright little fellow, this “ Bangs,”
queer as he looked ina girl’s sacque that
clothed him to the waist and a shabby old
pair of knickerbockers below. But there
had been great scrabbling in Poor Man’s
lane to find clothes of azy sort that
were fit to go to school in, and no one
was particular about having things to
match.

It seemed strange enough to these little
waifs to hear so much about the blessed

SOME MISSION-WORK. 135

Saviour and his caring for them, and at
first they could not understand it at all.
Their idea of coming to mission-school
was to be “dressed up like folks” and to
be amused; but this strange new story
came to them in all its freshness and filled
their minds with wonder. _

Week after week the good work went
on, and before long there was a mothers’
meeting anda sort of club for men. Poor
Man’s lane woke up by slow degrees, and
the children, with their hymns and what
they learned at school about the Lord and
Saviour, had much to do with this. Work
was found for some of the men, and dirty
houses and loud, scolding voices grew to be
less common.

Mrs. Wayne's garden fence was no longer
used to climb on; and one memorable after-
noon, in return for a sweet smile, Tommy
told Miss Lily, in a shamefaced way, that
he was “downright sorry he’d sassed her
SO.”

“And Zam sorry I lost my temper,” was
the frank reply ; “we'll both try to do better
in future, Tommy.”

136 WATER-ANIMALS.

“The ‘planting out’ is beginning to tell,”
said Miss Goldsby, “and the unsightly view
of Poor Man’s lane as it was now scarcely
shows at all.”

The story seemed to give great satisfac-
tion, except, as Edie complained, “it wasn’t
long enough;” but Miss Harson laughingly
declared that she couldn’t remember ever
telling this little girl a story that was long
enough.

“T see!” said Malcolm in great delight,
after a moment or two of deep thought.
“Don’t you mean the story, Miss Harson,
for us and Sim and the rest of them down -
there at the pond? And aren’t we trying
to plant them out?”

“I think we ave doing something of that
sort, Malcolm, and we have already seen
most encouraging results. Now let us see
what other species of Arctic water-animals
are left for us to explore.”

“Isn't Sim Jute a kind of Arctic water-
animal?” asked Clara. “We found him
down on the ice, where he always seems to

be 9

SOME MISSION-WORK. 137

Every one laughed at this idea, and Miss
Harson said,

“We will put him in that class, Clara, and
then he will not seem out of place in our
present talks.”

CHAPTER VIII.

SE A-LIONS,

- HIS evening,” said Miss Harson,
“we will fancy ourselves in San
Francisco.”

There were various exclamations of sur-
prise at this announcement, for it did not
seem reasonable to expect water-animals
to be frisking about in such a thickly-
populated place.

“We are there, if you say so,” responded
Malcolm; “and now, ma’am, may we know
what we are to do next?”

“Go somewhere else,” was the smiling
reply. “But I have mystified you long
enough. Take the large map, and see
here, close to San Francisco, this group of
dots marked Farallon Jsles. They are
really twenty miles west of the city, and
we cannot very well get.to them without

going to San Francisco. Not always then,
138

SEA-LIONS. 139

for they are the hardest to reach and the
least worth reaching, perhaps, of any
known islands.

“Then why do people go there, Miss
Harson?” asked Edith, not altogether
fancying the journey, even in imagination.

“It is very rarely that any one goes
there, dear; and we are going there to-
night only to see some still bigger cousins
of the walrus, which we can scarcely find
in such numbers anywhere else. These
huge creatures are called sea-lons, and
they appear to have things all their own
way at the Farallon Islands.”

“Does no one live there ?”

“Only the lighthouse-keeper and his fam-
ily. Think of it, Clara—ove solitary family
in that wild, lonesome place! These islands
are a mere group of picturesque rocks, and
on the highest point of the most southern
island, three hundred and forty feet above
the sea, is a lighthouse with a fine revolv-
ing light which can be seen for many miles.
The islands are said to consist of broken
rocks, mostly barren and bare, with plenty
of sharp peaks, several caves, and here

I40 WATER-ANIMALS.

and there a few weeds and a little grass.
At one point there is a small beach, and at
another a depression, but the fury of the
waves makes landing at all times difficult
and for the most part impossible.”

“T don’t see, then,” said Edith, “how we
are going to get there.”

“The difficulty seems to have been pro-
vided for, and some one who knows has
told us all about it. The gulls and sea-
lions are not disturbed by strangers, for
travelers seldom brave the dangers of a
visit to the Farallon Islands, where the
wind blows fiercely most of the time and
the ocean is so rough that it is impossible
to get there without being seasick. There
are a great many curious things to be seen
there, however, and first of these is the
lighthouse. |

“Farallon Island light is one of the most
important and powerful on our Western
coast, and the fog-whistle there is a very
curious contrivance. It is a huge trumpet
that is blown by the rush of air through a
cave or passage connecting with the ocean,
the mouthpiece of the fog-whistle being

SEA-LIONS. 141

fixed against the aperture in the rock; and
the breaker, dashing in with venomous
spite, or the huge bulging waves which
would dash a ship to pieces and drown her
crew in a single effort, now blows the whis-
tle and warns the mariner off. The sound
thus produced has been heard at a distance
of seven or eight miles.”’

“That's just splendid!” exclaimed Mal-
colm—“ to make the wicked old waves work
and do some good, instead of killing peo-
ple! If they were really alive, as they
seem to be, wouldn’t they be mad at having
to blow that whistle ?”’

Miss Harson laughingly thought that
they would, and said that it seemed particu-
larly comical to make these instruments of
destruction work against themselves.

“This very original fog-whistle,”’ contin-
ued the young lady, “depends for its blow-
ing upon the irregular coming in of the
waves, and also upon their irregular force,
so that it is blown somewhat as an idle boy
would blow his penny trumpet. The light-
house-keeper’s family lead a very lonely
life, cut off, as they often are in winter,

142 WATER-ANIMALS.

from all communication with other human
beings, even the vessel that brings their
food and other supplies not being able to
reach them for weeks at a time.”

“And don’t they get anything to eat?”
asked Edith in dismay.

“Not from outside, dear; but they prob-
ably provide for just such delays by keep-
ing a supply of necessaries on hand. .
People so peculiarly situated must always
be prepared for a siege of bad weather.”

“And there are the sea-birds and sea- —
lions,’ added Malcolm: “I suppose they
can eat ¢hem if they are starving.”

“Yes, if they can catch them,’ was the
reply. “An animal larger than an ox is
not very easily turned into food, especially
as he keeps clear of places in which it
would be convenient to capture him. The
house in which this solitary family live
seems to be in the midst of a perpetual
storm: ‘The ocean roars in their ears day
and night; the boom of the surf is their
constant and only music; the wild scream
of the sea-birds, the howl of the sea-lions,
the whistle and shriek of the gale, the dull,

SEA-LIONS. 143

threatening thunder of the vast breakers,—
are the dreary and desolate sounds which
lull them to sleep at night and assail their
ears when they wake.’”’

“Ugh!” exclaimed Clara in a very dis-
gusted tone; “I wouldn’t live in such a
horrid place!”

“I know, dear,” replied her governess,
smiling, “that you have a great aversion to
disagreeable things, and that you like every-
thing about you to be dainty and delicate ;
but if you were the lighthouse-keeper’s
daughter, instead of Mr. Kyle’s, you would
have to live in just such a horrid place. It
is pleasant to think that it does not seem
to the people who are accustomed to it
nearly so dreadful as it does to us; yet
they must often suffer many inconveniences
and discomforts.”

“T suppose the sea-lions have a good
time of it?’ said Malcolm.

“They certainly do not suffer for want
of society, as they are gathered by thou-
sands on the cliffs of the Farallon Islands,
which they have selected as a favorite place
of residence; and here they enjoy them-

144 WATER-ANIMALS.

selves by barking, howling, shrieking and
roaring in the caves and on the steep,
sunny slopes, They resemble seals in ap-
pearance, but are much larger, often measur-
ing eleven feet and weighing twelve hun-
dred pounds. They are not so numerous,
however, as the seals, nor so valuable.

“It is said to be an interesting sight to
see these marine monsters at play in the
surf, and to watch the superb skill with
which they know how to control their own
motions when a huge wave seizes them
and seems likely to dash them to pieces
against the rocks. They love to lie in the
sun upon the bare and warm rocks, and
here they sleep crowded together and lying
upon each other in inextricable confusion.
The bigger the animal, the greater his am-
bition appears to be to climb to the highest
summit; and when a huge, slimy beast has
with infinite squirming attained a solitary
peak, he does not tire of raising his sharp-
pointed, maggot-like head and complacently
looking about him.”

The children could scarcely understand
how a creature like an immense seal could

Gee

SS —— TM

SEA-LIONS.

10

146 WATER-ANIMALS.

climb a peak, and Miss Harson laughing-
ly said that it was a fact in natural history
which must be believed without being un-
derstood : : |

“These sea-lions, it appears, are not very
lovable creatures in any way; anda traveler
describes them as ‘a rough set of brutes
—rank bullies, | should say; for I have
watched them repeatedly as a big fellow
shouldered his way among his fellows,
reared his huge front to intimidate some
lesser one which had secured a favorite
spot, and first with howls, and, if this did
not suffice, with teeth and main force, ex-
pelled the weaker from his lodgment. The
smaller sea-lions, at least those which have >
left their mothers, appear to have no rights
which any one is bound to respect. They
get out of the way with an abject prompt-
ness which proves that they live in terror
of the stronger members of the community ;
but they do not give up their places without
harsh complaints and piteous groans,’ ”’

“What hateful things!’ exclaimed Edith.
“T don’t think sea-lions are nice at all.”

“They cannot be called pleasant or

SEA-LIONS. 147

amiable,” replied her governess; ‘‘and you
must remember that these same little ones
which you pity so much now are just as
bad when they get their size and strength.
It seems to be like struggling for a front
window, for these animals evidently want
the places where they can see the most.”

This made them all laugh, it seemed so
ridiculous for animals who live in the water
to scramble for high places on land, where
they could look around and view the
country.

“ How do they catch sea-lions, Miss Har-
son?” asked Malcolm.

“They are often caught with a lasso,
which, strange as it may sound, is really
the easiest way of getting at them. The
best sea-lion catcher is a Spaniard, to whom
the lasso is like a fifth hand or like his
trunk to the elephant. Stealing up to a
sleeping herd, he fastens his eye on the
biggest one of the lot, and, biding his time,
at the first motion of the animal with un-
erring skill flings his loose rawhide noose,
and then holds on for dear life.”

“Can’t the sea-lion drag him into the

148 WATER-ANIMATLS.

water?” said Clara; “for, of course, he
wants to run away.”

“He could,” was the reply, “if the Span-
iard went alone. But he knows too much
about sea-lions to do this, and there are
plenty of men at hand to help him. The
creature tugging so desperately at the
other end of the rope has the strength of
at least half a dozen men, and would cer-
tainly get away if the lasso could not be
turned around a solid rock. Another difh-
culty in catching this huge seal is the ten-
derness of its skin, which has been made
very soft by its life in the water, and is
easily cut by the lasso. A very moderate
pressure too will break its bones, and,
large as the creature is, rough handling
will soon kill it.”

“Don't they want it killed?” asked Edith. —

“Not usually, dear, for when taken in
this way it is intended for exhibition. We
read that ‘as quickly as possible the cap-
tured sea-lion is stuffed into a strong box
or cage, and here, in a cell too narrow to
permit movement, it roars and yelps in
helpless fury until it is transported to its

SEA-LIONS. 149

tank. Wild and fierce as it is, it seems very
rapidly to reconcile itself to the tank-life.
If the narrow space of its big bath-tub
frets it, you do not perceive it, for hunger
is its chief passion; and with a moderately
full stomach the animal does well in cap-
tivity if supplied with sufficient water.’ ”

“T don’t think much of sea-lions,” said
Clara; “all that they do is to quarrel and
make a noise. I do wonder, Miss Harson,
if you are going to give us a story
to-night ?”

“About sea-lions, of which you do not
think much? They are not very interest-
ing, certainly, but they are curious and
worth learning something about. I am
afraid that my story, if I told one, would
have to be about a lighthouse; and how
can I| tell whether you would like that?”

The young lady seemed to be enveloped,
fora moment, ina perfect cloud of children,
who evidently thought that a series of over-
whelming caresses would be the best way
of removing her doubts.

“IT know that it’s nice,’ said Edith,
“whatever it is; but I shall like it a great

150 WATER-ANIMALS.

deal better if you say it all out of your
own head.” ;

“Would you mind my reading it?” was
the smiling reply ; “it would not sound half
so well if I had to make it up as I went
along.”

“She’s got it all ready,” exclaimed Mal-
colm triumphantly as Miss Harson_ pro-
duced a paper, “and I know it’s just
splendid!”

“A thing may be ‘ resplendent with light
or with jewels,” replied his governess, “but
such a term will not apply to my little
story.”

AN EVENING IN A LIGHTHOUSE.

The lighthouse was lonely, as all light-
houses are, but it was not so desolate as
the one we have just read about at the Far-
allon Islands. Mr. James, the keeper, lived
in a neat cottage with his wife and daughter,
and the tower was connected with it bya
covered passage-way. It was a very com-
fortable place, and a mile away there was a
small village where Nellie James went to
school.

“HSNOHLHOSIT V NI

Wil Hi
Wh
Hii! ili

152 WATER-ANIMALS.

Mr. James often said that his fifteen-year-
old daughter was “his right-hand man,” and —
he scarcely knew how he could get along with-
out her. Mrs. James was so often ill that
a great deal in the house and out of it fell
upon Nellie. She was so bright and fear-
less that nothing seemed too hard for her
to attempt, and she could manage the light-
house lamp nearly as well as her father.
She had often lighted it, and it was a real
pleasure to send the beautiful revolving
light flashing over the water to warn and
guide those who go down to the sea in
ships. a

Nellie’s most intimate friend at school,
Mattie Blake, was her exact opposite, and
people often wondered what drew them to-
gether. Mattie was a delicate, timid girl,
with two or three rough brothers who were
fond of calling her “’fraid cat;”’ and she
certainly was a great coward. Her mother
said of her that she was frightened at her
own shadow, and there were few things
that she was not afraid of. She often cried
over this in secret, and would have given
anything to be brave like Nellie, but it

SEA-LIONS. 153

seemed as if she could not change herself.
She was sweet-tempered and _ useless—
“worse than no one,’ people declared, in
an emergency. : |

A visit at the lighthouse cottage was one
of the greatest pleasures that Mattie had;
she loved and admired her friend so en-
thusiastically that it was delightful to be
with her, and she often wished that courage
were catching, like measles and _ scarlet
fever. But it is always easier to get things
that you don’t want than those that you
do.

“There'll be considerable wind after a
while,”’ said Mr. James, who was going sev-
eral miles away on important business for
the lighthouse, “and I may be kept at
Crook’s Point till late in the evening. But
I can trust the lamp with you, Nellie; light
it in good season, my girl, for the clouds
are settling themselves for a rough night.”

Nellie smilingly promised that the first
star wouldn’t have a chance to show its
face before Bend Island Light put it out
of countenance; and, tenderly kissing his
wife, who was in bed with one of her bad

154 WATER-ANIMALS.

neuralgic attacks, Mr. James gave a parting
embrace to his girl and drove rapidly off.

It happened very pleasantly that Mattie
came in soon after, saying that she could
stay all night if they wanted her; and as
there was never any doubt of this, she and
Nellie and Mrs. James settled down for a.
cozy evening.

“T’ll make some short-cake for tea,
mother, if you don’t mind,” said Nellie in
her active, bustling way, “and you can have
a beautiful brown piece of toast, if you’d
rather. Mattie likes short-cake.”

Mrs. James smiled her consent; and
Nellie began her preparations, in which
Mattie helped, enjoying every minute of
her visit, as she always did. She often
wondered if any sitting-room was ever so
pleasant as this one, which was sitting-room
and kitchen combined, with the bedroom
opening out of it. Some pink coloring
had been put into the whitewash, which
gave the walls a lovely glow in the firelight;
and the crimson lounge, neat white curtains
and pretty carpet, pieced from a choice
selection of rags by Nellie’s busy fingers,

SEA-LIONS. 155

made a very attractive room of it. Things
were different at the Blakes’. Mr. Blake
kept a small store, and when he was away
or very busy his wife had to wait upon cus-
tomers, besides doing the work of her
family; and she said that she had no time
for pretty things.

Nellie had plenty to do, with her school
and her sick mother and the lighthouse,
but somehow she seemed to find time for
everything. As she stood now in the fire-
light with her flushed cheeks and bright
brown hair, deftly turning over the nicely
browned cake in the spider, Mattie de-
clared to herself that she was “as pretty
as a picture.”

Some fragrant tea was made and a slice
of bread daintily toasted for Mrs. James;
baked apples and gingerbread were added
to the table, and tea was pronounced ready.
After the small tray had been carried to
the invalid’s bedside, the two girls sat
down to their meal in broad daylight and
chatted over it a long time. Mrs. James
seemed better, and joined in the talk;
Mattie declared that the short-cake was the

156 WATER-ANIMALS.

nicest she had ever tasted. Mattie liked
nice things and pleasant times, and she
would take a great deal of trouble to avoid
those that were not nice and pleasant.

Outside, an October gale was coming up,
as Mr. James had predicted, and at the
approach of twilight Nellie quietly left her
friend putting away the dishes, and, saying
that she would be back soon, slipped away
to the lighthouse. The lamp should be
lighted earlier than usual to-night, for fear
of its being forgotten until past the hour,
and thus bringing the dear father into
trouble and perhaps endangering the lives
of others.

Mattie finished the dishes, put the room
in order and then sat down by Mrs. James
to tell her about some matters in the village
that interested her. The talk went on
cheerfully and the twilight deepened, but
Nellie did not appear. Once or twice her
mother wondered at her absence, as it
never took so long to light the lamp; but
Mattie said that she would come soon, and
tried to make the sick woman forget how
the time was passing. She felt just a little

SEA-LIONS. 157

uneasy herself, for something told her that
had she done as she would be done by,
Nellie would not have gone alone to the
tower. But then she reasoned that Nellie
often went alone, and did not care to have
her unless she enjoyed going; which she
never did, for she had a terror of the nar-
row, winding staircase and the close tower
with its glass sides.

Suddenly Mrs. James gave a sort of
shriek.

“Tt is getting dark,” she cried, “quite
dark; and look! look, Mattie! 7here zs
no light in the tower!”

A window at the foot of the bed permit-
ted a view of the lighthouse, and Mattie saw
that these words were only too true. What
had become of Nellie? And oh, terrible
thought! what would become of the vessels
out at sea on that wild night? And, by
way of help in this terrible emergency,
down sank Mattie by the bedside and
began to cry. |

“Mattie Blake,’ said the invalid with
unusual energy, “get up this instant and
stop crying! Take the lantern, and go

158 WATE R-ANIMALS.

directly to the tower and light the lamp;
then see what has become of Nellie.”
“Oh!” sobbed Mattie, with a white face
of terror, “I cazv’¢ go, Mrs. James; I’m
afraid! Suppose that Nellie is killed?”
“Don’t dare to tell me such a thing!”
cried the excited woman, “but go at ounce,
if you don’t wish to be a murderer and

wreck all the vessels off the coast. Mark —

my words, Mattie: if you wait any longer,
you will rue this night’s work as long as
you live. If only I could go myself!” she
added, as she fell back with a groan.

“Tl go,” said the trembling girl, starting
to her feet; “I didn’t mean to be wicked,
but I’m so—so frightened !”

“Don’t think of that, child; vemember
that God 1s everywhere, and do your duty.
May he bless and keep you, and bring me
back my Nellie!”

Whispering a hasty prayer and trembling
in every limb, Mattie started with the lan-
tern, and went shudderingly through the
dark passage and up the twisted staircase,
not daring to peer into the corners, and
too much afraid of the sound of her own

SEA-LIONS. 159

voice to call Nellie. She remembered the
story of a brave girl who cured herself of
cowardice by going all. over the house
alone in the dark, and, calling to mind
Mrs. James’s words that “God is every-
where,” she planted her feet more firmly
and resolved to do her best. Once in the
queer little room, she had the lamp lighted
almost before she knew it, and she stood
gazing at the dazzling light with almost as
much awe as if the sun had suddenly risen
before her.

But where was Nellie?

Out again on the little balcony that en-
circled the tower, she seemed to be im-
pelled, in spite of the wind, to walk around
it; and there, on the farther side, lay a mo-
tionless heap which she recognized at a
glance as her friend. Was it Nellie dead,
or only insensible? She fainted easily, but
what was she doing ¢here in a fainting fit?
And why had she not lighted the lamp?
Not far off, a dead sea-bird of immense
size had evidently killed itself by dashing
against the wall of the tower; and, won-

dering if it had first attacked Nellie, Mattie

160 WATER-ANIMALS.

began to chafe her cold hands and try to
rouse her back to life.

Presently in the tower-room, where Mat-
tie had managed to drag her, the bewildered
girl opened her eyes and put her hand to
her head.

“T believe it aches,” said she, sitting up;
“it came against me so hard that it knocked
me down, and then, you know, I forgot
everything, What would I have done with-
out you, Mattie? It was so very brave and
good of you to come!”

“Brave and good!” This was a new
idea to Mattie, and, remembering her un-
willingness, she hung her head for very |
shame. |

“T was not brave and good,” she replied
with a hot face, “for I didn’t want to come,
Iwas so afraid. I thought you had been
killed. But your mother said I must come
if I didn’t want to be a murderer, because
of the lamp; so of course I had to come.
But I was frightened all the way.”

“Tt was all the more brave of you to
come, then,’ said Nellie, affectionately ;
“and I suppose I had been out in the cold

SEA-LIONS. 161

long enough. That great bird, you see,
flew right in my face—frightened himself, I
suppose—and down I went, like the silly
thing I am. It was so early for the lamp
that I walked around the balcony to see the
waves tossing and foaming in the wind, and
that’s the way it happened. But next time
ll light the lamp frsz¢, if it’s the middle of
the day.”

Poor Mrs. James was now wondering
what had become of Jdofh the girls; the
magnificent light was flashing in her eyes,
so that was all right; but where were Nellie
and Mattie? She had almost decided to
wrap the blanket around her and hobble
off after them when in they both came, and
Nellie lay down beside her to tell her
adventures.

“J have a word for you, Mattie,” said the
sick woman as she kissed her good-night:
“you have quietly done a great work this
evening in perhaps saving Nellie’s life and
the lives of many of whom you will never
know; you have, besides, made a woman
of yourself.”

This “word” was very sweet to Mattie,
i

162 WATER-ANIMALS.

who felt as if she never could be a coward
any more; and, after all, it was not so hard
to be brave. It was only to remember that
God is everywhere, for this thought had
helped her to do her duty.

There were a great many exclamations
over the story when Miss Harson had fin-
ished, and the children pronounced both
Nellie and Mattie to be ‘just lovely!”

“Tt was so nice of her,’ said Edith, “to
go to that dreadful tower when she was
afraid; and how could that girl walk all
through the house in the dark?”

“Edie dear,” was the affectionate reply,
“we can all do a great many things which ©
we thought we couldn’t possibly do, by try-
ing with a right motive ; and the’ best motive
of all is the love and fear of God.”

CHEAPSER 1X:

A SEA-BEAR.

ag HERE is one more sea-animal,” said

Miss Harson, “found among the
seals and walruses and sea-lions, but it is
less common and more valuable than any
other of them. This is the sea-otter, a queer-
looking black quadruped, about three and
a half feet long from the tip of its short
tail to its nose. It is not at all related to
the seal family, for instead of ‘flippers’ it
has regular fore and hind legs, like any
other quadruped.”

“Tsn’t it a little black bear?” asked Edith:
“that’s what the picture looks like.”

“Why, so it does!” added Clara; “its
head is exactly like a bear’s.”

Malcolm declared that the picture of an
otter in the book they gave Sim Jute was
not a bit like this one.

163

164 WATER-ANIMALS.

“No,” replied their governess, “for that
was an English otter, and quite a different
animal. You are quite right about tiie
resemblance to a bear, which has caused
this otter to be called the sea-bear. ‘The
shape of its body is like that of the beaver,
and the skin lies in loose folds, so that
when it is taken hold of in lifting the otter
out of the water, it draws up like the hide
on the nape of a young puppy-dog. This
skin is covered with the richest of all fine,
deep fur, a jet black, with silver-tipped
hairs scattered here and there. ‘This fur is
so valuable that it is used principally for
trimming, as it is too heavy and expensive
for making full garments.”

“Ts it handsomer than sealskin ?” asked
Malcolm slyly, for he knew that great sat-
isfaction prevailed in regard to certain gar-
ments of that popular fur. :

“T like the color of sealskin -better,” re-
plied Miss Harson, “and it must be far
more agreeable to wear than so heavy a
fur; but I suppose that people generally
would call the sea-otter fur handsomer,
because it is more rare and expensive.

A SEA-BEAR. 165

Sealskin, however, is quite good enough
for me.” |
“And me,” “And me,” added Clara and
Edith, the latter of whom ‘‘didn’t believe

that the sea-otter was pretty, a bit.”
“Itis not a pretty animal, dear,’’ was the
laughing reply, “but the fur, from all ac-
counts, is really beautiful. As we haveall the
fur we need, however, for the present, this
need not trouble us. The sea-otter is very
shy, and particularly dislikes the neighbor-
hood of a human being. Any unfamiliar
odor, it seems, will send it off where there
is no possible chance of getting at it, and
it requires the most patient watching ever
to catch one. A sea-otter’s skin is worth,
when taken from the animal, from thirty
to sixty dollars, which is more than double
what a seal skin brings; and to secure so
valuable an animal the natives around
Alaska will suffer the greatest hardships.
“Sea-otters are found more plentifully
around the Saanack islets and reefs, and
here the native hunters gather from the
west and north and fix their camp on the
main island, venturing out to sea fifteen or

166 WATER-ANIMALS.

twenty miles in every direction, with no
greater protection against the rough waves
than their little ‘kyacks,’ or ‘bidarkies,’
which seem to be tossed about like so
many corks. But they are perfectly water-
tight, and the Eskimos plunge in them
through mountains of water without getting
at all wet. Indeed, they are scarcely so un-
comfortable on the water as when they are
waiting and watching for their prey on a
barren rock in cold, wet weather, as they
often do for a month at a time, with no fire,
no beds, nothing but a little coarse food to
keep them alive.”

“Why can’t they have a bonfire on the
rock,” asked Malcolm, “and dance around
it to get warm?”

“You forget,” said his governess, “how
very scarce fuel is with the Aleutians: I _
doubt if they know what a bonfire is. Be-
sides, the blaze and the jumping figures
would drive any respectable otter to the
depths of the ocean, and thus cut off all
hope of carrying away his precious skin.
Care is taken never to leave any signs of
food on the beaches, for one of these

A SEA-BEAR. 167

cautious animals on seeing it would be
sure to say, ‘Here's something wrong—l'll
go and warn the rest of ’em;’ and never
an otter would show his pointed nose for
many a day.

“A traveler among these people says:

“<The natives, when they go to Saanack
on a hunting-trip of this character, usually
make up a party of from forty to fifty men.
They travel in their light skin bidarkies,
two men in ‘each, and are gone from three
to four months ata time before returning
to their families. They haul their kyacks
out from the water every night as they
bivouac along the coast, and sleep in gales
of wind which are always loaded with rain,
sleet and fog, without the least covering,
and almost invariably without a fire. Ah!
rude indeed is the country of the Aleut;
but he is as rugged, and the bleak, precip-
itous islands stamped with his name are
all the world to him. He wants no other,
and he is happy where we would be su-
premely miserable. They are certainly as
hardy a set of hunters, patient and ener-
getic, as can be found in the world.’”’

168 WATER-ANIMALS.

It was a great surprise to the children
that people should really “ke to live among
such hardships, and they wondered that
these hard-working natives didn’t emigrate,
like many who are far better off.

“They think it delightful,’ was the reply,
“and would look upon our way of living as’
very tame in comparison. If we would be
wretched there, they would be equally
wretched here; and a good yield of sea-
otter leaves them nothing to be desired.
They really enjoy the shrewd and skillful
artifices by which alone they can capture
the watchful and suspicious creature, and
the pleasure of outwitting it is almost equal
to the profit.”

“Miss Harson,”’ asked Edith with great
interest, “are the baby otters pretty?” —

“T doubt their being particularly pretty,
dear, but they are what you would call
‘very cunning. They are as wild, how-
ever, as their parents, and although they
have often been captured alive, all attempts
to rear them have been utterly useless. No
matter what dainties were offered them, the
frantic little creatures always starved them-

A SEA-BEAR. 169

selves to death. It is said to be an inter-
esting sight to see the sea-otter mother
asleep in the water on her back, with
her young one clasped between her tiny
fore paws.”

“T don’t see how she can go to sleep in
the water without drowning,” said Malcolm.

“7 <don't see,’ either,” said Miss Harson,
“but it is stated as a fact on good authority,
and therefore we must take it on trust, es-
pecially as we are not likely to be so sit-
uated that we caz see it.”

“It must be very funny to live in the
water,’ said Clara, “and I should think it
would be nice, too; for when we were at
the seashore and went in bathing I never
wanted to come out again.”

“Tf you had webbed feet and a furry
skin,’ replied her governess with a smile,
“you might have stayed in the water as
long as you liked. But then, you see, I
should have had no girl about your size to
love; and as for papa—’’

Things now became, as Malcolm said,
“affecting,” and Clara laughingly promised
to stop wishing that she could be an otter,

170 WATER-ANIMALS.

especially as Edith contributed the rather
alarming idea that she might wear her own
sister's fur and not know it.

‘There is another species of otter,’ con-
tinued Miss Harson, “found in the temper-
ate regions of Europe and America, which
does not look much like its Arctic cousin.
It belongs to the weasel family, who are
famous hunters and remarkably blood-
thirsty and persevering. The otter is very
much persecuted by man, and were it not
so much at home in the water, where it is
most secure, there would scarcely be an
animal of the species left.

“Tt has a very small head compared with
the size of its body, which is about four and
a half feet long, and when the mouth is
open, as it so frequently 1s, it suggests very
unpleasant ideas of sharp bites. It seems
to have been formed especially for living in
the water, as its body is long and much
flattened; the tail is also flattened under-
neath, and from its length and shape is ad-
mirably adapted as a rudder; the feet are
broad and webbed; and the legs are so
loosely jointed that they can be turned in

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+ . ~
__ FS ayy \Y
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SO
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; 4 4
we
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OTTERS.

172 WATER-ANIMALS.

any direction while the animal is swim-
ming.”

“] wish my legs would do that!” ex-
claimed Malcolm involuntarily. “Wouldn't
i have just the grandest kind of time swim-
ming if my legs were loose-jointed? But
excuse me, io Harson; I didn’t mean
to: Interrupt.”

“T thought the otter’s legs would be too
much for you, Malcolm,” was the amused
reply ; “and it is not at all remarkable that,
aided by these advantages, the movements
of the otter while in the water are most
graceful and easy, and appear to be ex-
ecuted without the smallest effort. The
animal slips into the water quite as noise-
lessly as if it were oil, and emerges in the
same easy manner, hardly leaving a. ripple
on the surface. Not the least extraordi-
nary part of its aquatic performance is the
manner in which it turns a somersault
below the surface of the water without ap-
pearing to check its speed. ‘I have more
than once,’ says a certain writer, ‘seen an
otter in pursuit of a fish pass under its -
prey, and then, by a quick stroke of its tail,

A SEA-BEAR. 173

turn completely over, seizing the fish in the
course of the manceuvre. In order to re-
tain the slippery prey when it has caught
it, the teeth of the otter are very long,
sharp and pointed, even the back teeth
being furnished with sharp points.’ ”’

“A weasel’s teeth are sharp too,” said
Clara: “I remember your reading that to
us, Miss Harson.”’

“The teeth of both animals are very
sharp, and the otter seems to delight in
killing and carrying off more fish than it
can possibly eat, as it will often bite off
only the flesh at the back of the neck.
‘The remainder, however, is not wasted, for
poor people who live near rivers where
otters dwell profit by this cruelty, often
finding on the banks fine fish that are well
worth taking home. In one place in Scot-
land the otters invariably left a fine salmon
every morning lying on a particular spot,
much to the gratification of those who
found it, who did not object to eating the
fish because the otters had bitten out a
piece for themselves.—What does this re-
mind you of, Edie?” asked her governess:

174 WATER-ANIMALS.

“T see that you are all ready to tell me
something.”

“Tsn’t it like Elijah and the ravens?”
asked the little girl, “Only—”

“T know, dear,’ said Miss Harson as
she stopped in some embarrassment; “ the
ravens were especially sent by God to feed
his holy prophet, while the leaving of the
fish by the otters seems accidental; then it
can be taken by any one. But nothing is
veally accidental, for our heavenly Father
orders all things; and some, at least, of
the poor people who got that fish doubt- ©
less recognized and thanked the Giver.”

“What do people want to hunt otters
for?” asked Malcolm; “are they good for
anything ?”

“Yes, they have very thick soft fur, which
is made into gloves and caps: in cold
regions these articles are very much worn.
The chase of an otter is very exciting, and
affords a large amount of what howberd call
‘sport,’ and dogs are specially trained for
this purpose. They would not be apt to
undertake it of their own accord, as the
jaws of the otter are so powerful and its

A SEA-BEAR. 175

teeth so strong that it has been seen to
break the leg of a stout terrier at a single
bite. Its own fur, too, is very thick, and in
some measure defends it from the bites of
its enemies.

“But sometimes the otter itself is the
hunter; and not very long ago, a man in
some Western State shot an otter and, sup-
posing it to be dead, went close up to it.
The animal sprung at him furiously, and
the hunter ran for his life, with the otter
after him. A low rail-fence offered a hope
of safety, and the man went quickly over
it, only to find that the otter had gone
through it. Then the man sprung back
again, but so did the otter. This game
was kept up for some time until, completely
exhausted, the hunter made several frantic
leaps, and finding the animal just passing
through the fence, he in desperation grasped
it by the tail, and, catching its leg through
another crack, it sank exhausted to the
ground. The cries of the man for help,
mingled with the enraged snarls and fight-
ing of the otter, were heard at a farm
nearly a mile distant, and the hunter was

176 WATER-ANIMALS.

soon relieved from his awkward situation;
but he was so exhausted and enfeebled by
the fright that it was some time before he
could walk sufficiently to get to the house.”

“T shouldn't think Ze’a@ want to hunt any
more otters,” said Clara.

“No, was the reply; “they were - all
bly let.alone, so far as he was concerned ;
and it is far better to tame an otter than to
shoot it.’

“But how caz such savage things be
tamed?” asked Malcolm.

“Tt is not easy even to catch them, but a
comical habit they have of sliding down
banks and such places, evidently for pure
amusement, is quite a help. There is a
chance then of taking oneinatrap. These
animals have been tamed in England, and
taught to catch fish for their masters.”

“Do they bite ’em first,” asked Edith,
“like those otters that left the salmon for
poor people ?”

“No, dear,” replied Miss Harson; “they
are taught not to do that, but it is not an
easy lesson for a fish-loving animal like the
otter to learn. The Hindus have been in

A SEA-BEAR. 177

the habit of training them by beginning
when the animals were very young, and
the first step was to make the otter give up
all idea of eating fish himself. Bread and
milk were mixed with fish to make him eat
such strange food; then less fish was given;
and at length bread and milk alone. Hav-
ing reached this step, the otter is then
taught to fetch and carry like a dog; and
when it has attained a certain proficiency
in that art, a leathern model of a fish is
cast into the water and the otter is taught
to bring it out. By degrees dead fish are
used instead of the model, the otter being
always chastised if it attempts to eat or
even tear them. At last it is permitted to
go in after living fish, which by this time it
has learned to carry in its mouth without
hurting them.”

“T wish we had some otters here to prac-
tice on,’ said Malcolm: “I believe I could
teach them to catch all the fish we should
want to eat.”

“But where would you get the fish?”
asked Clara: “there are only little minnows

and things in the pond, you know.”
12

178 WATER-ANIMALS.

Malcolm was obliged to laugh at himself
for leaving out so important a part of the
programme, and Miss Harson said that she
would not tell papa just yet that he need
not order any more fish. —

“Tame otters,’ continued the young lady,
“have been known to show as much affec-
tion for their masters as a dog, fawning
upon them in the same way and going out
to walk with them. One of these strange
pets was very fond of gooseberries, and
equally fond of playing with his master’s
feet, just as a young puppy would do.
Another one would catch fish for its own
living and then return to its owner. One
day the animal was taken to the river by
its master’s son. It entered the water as
usual, but when called it refused to obey
the command and remained in the water.
Some time afterward the owner of the
animal, who had been away from home,
returned, and upon hearing of the loss of
his pet went to the river-bank and gave the
accustomed call. To his great joy the otter
responded to the call, and came crawling
out of the water to his feet.”

A SEA-BEAR. L7Q .

“How glad he must have been!” said
Fdith; “but the otter wanted to stay in
the water, didn’t he, Miss Harson ?”

“Tt certainly looks as though he did, and
he seemed to come out only from affection
for his master. This shows that the feeling
must have been a very strong one.

“Another otter was so very tame that
when strange dogs appeared it would try
to spring into its master’s arms for safety.
It was a splendid fisherman, catching eight
or ten salmon a day. When it caught |
them, it always tried to break the fish be-
tween the last fin and the tail, and if the
fish were taken away, it instantly dived in
search of more. It was equally expert in
the sea, where it caught numbers of cod-
fish. It would hunt in this manner until it
was tired, when it refused to enter the
water again. Its master would then feed
it; and after it had taken as much food as
it wished, it was accustomed to go to sleep
on the spot, and was generally carried
home sleeping.”

It seemed very funny to carry an otter
about like a pussy cat, and the children felt

180 WATER-ANIMALS.

that a glimpse of this pet animal would
have been avery high degree of happiness.

“An otter that was taught to fish for its
owners,” said Miss Harson, “did not do it
very willingly; but it was interesting to
watch its performance. Jumping into the
deep rivulet into which it was taken, it
would rouse the fish with blows of its tail.
When the fish thus disturbed kept close to
the bank, the otter did not notice them; but
if one of them darted before its pursuer, it
was instantly seized and brought to the sur-
face of the water, probably to lessen the
power of its struggles. The otter caught
several fish in this manner and brought
them to shore, but resigned its prey with
great reluctance, uttering a kind of whining
remonstrance.”’

“Whata shame!” said Clara, “ when the
poor thing had taken so much trouble.”

“It was mean,’ said Edith with great
scorn, “to take the otter’s fish away.”

“If the fish was really needed by the
owners, dear,” replied her governess, “and
the otter had enough for its own food, it
was not cruel, any more than it is to make

A SEA-BEAR. 181

other animals work for us, although we
know that they do not like it. And now
an account of another otter, who wouldn't
fish for her owner, must take the place of a
regular story:

“«When I first obtained the animal,’ says
the owner, ‘there was no water sufficiently
near to where I lived in which I could give
her an occasional bath; and being appre-
hensive that, if entirely deprived of an ele-
ment in which nature had designed her to
pass so considerable a portion of her exist-
ence, she would languish and die, I allowed
her a tub as a substitute for her native
river, and in this she plunged and swam
with much apparent delight. It was in this
manner that I became acquainted with the
curious fact that the otter, when passing
along beneath the surface of the water,
does not usually accomplish its object by
swimming, but dy walking along the bottom,
which it can do as securely and with as
much rapidity as it can run on dry land.

“«After having had my otter about a
year, | changed my residence to another
quarter of the town, where a stream flowed

182 WATER-ANIMALS.

past the rear of the house. The creature
being by this time so tame as to be allowed
perfect liberty, I took 1t down one evening
to the river and permitted it to disport it-
self for the first time since its capture ina
deep and open stream. The animal was
delighted with the new and refreshing en-
joyment, and I found that a daily swim in
the river greatly conduced to its health and
happiness.

“‘T would sometimes walk for nearly a
mile along the bank, and the happy and
frolicsome creature would accompany me
by water, and that, too, so rapidly that I
could not, even by very quick walking,
keep pace with it. On some occasions it
caught small fish, such as minnows, eels,
and occasionally a trout of no inconsider-
able size. When it was only a minnow or
small eel which it caught, it would devour
it in the water, putting its head for that
purpose above the water; when, however,
it had made a trout its prey, it would often
come to shore and devour it more at leisure.

“«T strove very hard to train this otter to
fish for me, as I had heard otters have been

A SEA-BEAR. 183

many times taught to do, but I never could
succeed in this attempt, nor could I ever
prevail upon the animal to give me up at
any time the fish which she had taken.
The moment I approached her to do so, as
if suspecting my intention she would at
once take to the water, and, crossing to the
other side of the stream, devour her prey
in safety. The difficulty in training I im-
pute to the animal's want of an individual
affection for me, for it was not affection,
but her own pleasure, which induced her to
follow me down the stream, and she would
with equal willingness follow any other
person who happened to release her from
her box.

“«Although this otter failed to exhibit
those affectionate traits of character which
have displayed themselves in other indi-
viduals of her tribe toward the human
species, she was by no means of a cold or
unsocial disposition toward some of my
smaller domestic animals. With an Angora
cat she soon formed a very close friendship,
and when in the house was unhappy if not
in the company of her friend.

184 WATER-ANIMALS.

“«T had one day an opportunity of wit-
nessing a singular display of attachment
evinced by this otter toward the cat. A
little terrier dog attacked the latter as she
lay by the fire, and, driving her thence, pur-
sued her under the table, the cat spitting
and setting up her back in defiance. At
this instant the otter entered the apartment,
and no sooner did she perceive what was
going on than she flew with much fury and
bitterness upon the dog, seized him by the
face with her teeth, and would doubtless
have inflicted a severe chastisement upon
him had.I not hastened to the rescue, and,
separating the combatants, expelled the
terrier from the room.

“«When permitted to wander in the gar-
den this otter would search for grubs,
worms and snails, which she would eat
with much apparent relish, detaching the
latter from their shells with surprising
quickness and dexterity. She would like-
wise mount upon the chairs at the window
and catch and eat flies—a practice that I
have not hitherto seen noticed by any
naturalist.’ ”’

CHAPTER °X.

Al THE NORTE; POLL.

: ISS HARSON,” said Clara as she

came in shivering from an expedi-
tion just outside the front door to see the
stars that were glittering like diamonds in
the winter sky, “why do people say that
‘it’s as cold as Greenland’ ?”

“What people say it, Clara?”

“Well, Jane did this morning, and Kitty
answered, ‘That’s so;’ and Thomas said it
was colder than Greenland.”

“Which shows that they have never
visited the Arctic regions,’ was the smiling
reply, “nor even read about them. I know
that ‘as cold as Greenland’ is a favorite
expression with some people, but it is not
a happy one, for it is never so cold here
as it is in Greenland. Suppose that we
take a trip there to-night and see for our-

selves how it is 2”
185

186 WATER-ANIMALS.

Yes, indeed! they would like it of all
things; and Malcolm stipulated that they
should see a polar bear—several polar
bears, if possible.

“That is the principal object of our
journey,” said his governess—“to make
the acquaintance of this despot of the
Arctic regions, as he 1s called. But there
are many other strange things to be seen
first, and it is by no means an easy matter
to get to Greenland. You will see by the
map how very far north we shall have to
travel—much farther than to go from where
we are to the most southern point of the
continent. Up, and still up, from Canada,
past all these bays and islands to Baffin’s
Bay and the Greenland Sea, where Hud-
son’s Bay seems quite far south in compar-
ison. We shall see plenty of icebergs and
seals and walruses; and unless we dress
ourselves properly for the trip we shall be
half, if not quite, frozen.”

“Won't our sealskin things be warm
enough?” asked Edith.

“No, dear; reindeer-skins lined with
thick fur are better; and we must have

AW

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Mii
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Mp i Pit ht

188 WATER-ANIMALS.

sealskin boots sewed with twine. These
keep out cold and wet, and as they are
soft and elastic, they are very pleasant for
walking. Pine-wood snow-shoes two or
three feet long, capable of supporting the
weight of a man on the most brittle snow,
and enabling him to pass over it with the
rapidity of a skater on ice, can be fastened
to the soles of the sealskin boots.”

The children were highly amused at the
queer appearance they would make in this
style of dress, and when, Miss Harson
added that their sealskin caps might an-
swer for mild weather, but they would need
“jumpers ’”’ for the colder season, there was
a universal cry for information.

“<Tumpers’ are merely fur hoods fas-
tened to the outer garment,” was the laugh-
ing reply; “but why they are called by so
strange a name I cannot imagine. They
are an excellent protection against the cold,
especially for the back of the neck, where
it is always felt so keenly. Besides the
cold, however, we must remember, in get-
ting ready for our Arctic expedition, that
food is very scarce in that region.”

AT THE NORTH POLE. 189

“We can take lots of good things with
us,’ suggested Malcolm: “cooked turkeys
and chickens, and cold ham and tongue
and—and—mince-pies.” :

Miss Harson seemed so very much
amused at this idea that Malcolm was
afraid his proposition was not so good a
one as he had supposed it would be when
he offered it.

“This is not exactly the sort of fare,”
said the young lady, “that Arctic travelers
indulge in. I suppose that axything would
keep in such a frozen region, as everything
is on ice, whether it is wanted there or not;
but such an outfit would add very much to
the expense of a most expensive journey.
‘Pemmican ’—which is, | ¢Azzk, but am not
quite sure, dried and pounded meat—dried
potatoes, meat-biscuits, pickled cabbage and
various dried fruits and vegetables, with
salt beef and pork, hard crackers and flour,
_ do not make up a very inviting bill of fare.
Besides these we must have a regular med-
icine-chest, to be prepared for the sickness
that is sure to come in some form or other,
as well as plenty of knives, needles and

I90 WATER-ANIMALS.

other small articles which are attractive to
the natives.”

“It's going to be delightful,” said Clara,
enthusiastically, as Miss Harson consulted
the map; “I’m so glad we started.”

“JT don’t mind going in ¢hzs way,” said
Edith, “but I wouldn’t like to go really,
I'd rather see the polar bears in pictures.”

“That's a real gz7/,” replied Malcolm, as
though he had expected her to be anything
else. “I wish we could go to Greenland
and find out just how cold it is.”

“JT will tell you presently,” said his gov-
erness, smiling, “and I think your ardor
will then be very much cooled. First,
about Greenland itself: it is generally sup-
posed to be a collection of barren islands,
although sometimes spoken of as a conti-
nent; and Dr. Kane, the famous Arctic
explorer, says that it is connected with
America by a mighty crystal bridge. He
says also that it is large enough for a con-
tinent, as there are at least twelve hundred
miles of it in length, and that through the
centre of all this space runs a deep un-
broken sea of ice. There are plenty of

AT DHE NORTH: POLE. IgI

fogs on the coast of Greenland, as there
are on the coast of Alaska; and through
these fogs, perhaps, we see our first won-
der in these regions, the mzduzght sun.”

“Oh, Miss Harson!” was the amazed ex-
clamation, “does the sun really and truly
shine at midnight?”

“Really and truly it does. In all those
regions near the poles there is a long sum-
mer day of two months; and although,
when it is midnight by the clock, the sun
makes an attempt at setting, just before it
reaches the horizon it begins to rise again.
This is such a wonderful sight that journeys
are made to the North Cape, at the farthest
point of Norway, for the sake of seeing it.
One traveler writes of it: ‘It was after
twelve at night when we came into port,
and the peculiar light of the Arctic summer
at this hour—which reminds one of the ef-
fect of an eclipse, so unlike our orthodox
twilight—bathed everything in gray but the
northern background, an Alpine chain stand-
ing out against a blazing crimson sky. And
again he says: ‘On our road we were fa-
vored with a gorgeous spectacle, which

192 WATER-ANIMALS.

hardly any excitement of peril could have
made us overlook. The midnight sun
came out over the northern crest of the
great berg, kindling variously-colored fires
on every part of its surface, and making
the ice around us one great resplendency
of gem-work, blazing carbuncles, rubies
and inolten gold.”

This was very beautiful to hear about;
but Clara presently wondered how people
knew, in such places, when it was time to
go to bed.

“There is some trouble in this way,” re-
plied Miss Harson, “with those who are
not accustomed to these far northern re-
gions, as it is hard to believe that it is
really night when apparently it is broad
day. Animals that are brought from warmer
places find it especially puzzling to know
when to go to sleep; and there is a curious
story of an English rooster that seemed to
be utterly bewildered because it never came
night. Heappeared to think it unnatural
to sleep while the sun was shining, and
staggered about until he fell down from
exhaustion. After a while he got into reg-

3

AT THE NORTH POLE. 193

ular habits, but he was apparently so dis-
gusted to wake up in broad daylight, in-
stead of in the gray dawn to which he was
accustomed, that he stopped crowing. Per-
haps he thought he had overslept himself,
and was ashamed to crow so late.”

The children thought a rooster that did
not crow a melancholy affair, and they would
have been glad to know how he acted when
he got back—if he ever did get back—to
his native place.

“That is hardly probable, as live animals
are often taken on long voyages on purpose
to have them fresh when wanted for food,
and the perplexed rooster was doubtless
killed and eaten in the polar seas. But
imagine birds tucking their heads under
their wings and trying to sleep until the
broad glare of sunshine made them give
it up in despair. Pussy would not mind
such a state of things, as she can sleep
at all times and in all places, but it must
be particularly inconvenient for foreign
birds.”

“It would be nice, though,” said Clara,

who was something of an owl, “to get toa
13
=

194 WATER-ANIMALS.

place where you wouldn’t have to go to
bed just when you wanted to sit up.”

“Tf I should try keeping you out of bed
for just one night,” replied her governess,
“Tam very sure that you would beg to be
allowed to sleep before morning. But
people who live in these northern countries
do not, as you seem to suppose, stay awake
for two months. They go to bed just as
we do, without paying any attention to the
movements of the sun, for it is impossible
to live without sleep. When the two
-months of daylight are passed, then come
the days of twilight and darkness, a hun-
dred and forty of them altogether.—How
many months, Malcolm ?” |

“Four months and a half,’ was iis
colm’s reply.

“Fully that; and it is very hard for us
to realize this dismal season. Early in
November the twilight deepens into night ;
and an Arctic traveler writes at that time:
‘We still read the thermometer at noonday
without a light, and the black masses of the
hills are plain for about five hours with
their glaring patches of snow, but all the

AT THE NORTH. POLE. 195

rest is darkness. Lanterns are always on
the spar-deck, and the lard-lamps never
extinguished below. The stars of the
sixth magnitude shine out at noonday.’
Entire darkness prevails for ninety days,
and the Eskimo is said to measure his life
by winters as the American Indian does by
summers, because winter is the longest
part of the year. He calls it ‘the season
of fast ice.’

“But when the day has come again, and
the first thawing begins to show itself in
the sunshine as winter declines before the
promise of spring, he tells you that it is
‘upernasak,’ the time of water-drops. It
is then that the snow-bird comes back and
the white ptarmigan takes on a few brown
feathers. His well-known heath too, the
‘irsuteet, is green again below its dried
stems in the snow.

“About the end of May, or a little later,
comes ‘upernak,’ the season of thaws. It
is the Eskimo’s true summer. Animal and
vegetable life is now back again, the floes
break upon the sea and drift in ice-rafts—
about the coasts, snow is disappearing from

196 WATER-ANIMALS.

the hill-tops and the torrents pour down
from the long-sealed ravines and valleys.

“By the middle of August comes the
season of ‘aosak,’ or no ice, which lasts a
very short time. ‘No ice’ means only that
the sea is more open than at any other
season, but there is always ice to be seen
around this open passage. The latter part
of September is the end of this short
summer. There is still a fifth season, when
the water-torrents begin to freeze in the
fiords and thawing ceases except at noon-
day. This terminates when the young ice
has formed in a permanent layer on the
bays, and winter returns with its long reign
of cold and darkness,’”’

“Well,” said Malcolm, “they may keep
their midnight sun and welcome if that’s
the way all the rest of the year is there.”

“Isn't it aw—, I mean very cold, Miss
Harson?” asked Edith with an expectant
shiver.

“Yes, dear,” was the reply: “that cannot
be denied; and the old writers used to say
about these regions that when the inhab-
itants tried to speak the words froze in

AT THE NORTH POLE. 197

coming out of their mouths, and did not
thaw until spring.”

“That couldn’t be true, could it 2?” said
Clara, quite seriously. But she was soon
laughing as heartily as the others at the
absurdity of her question.

“An Arctic winter,’ continued Miss Har-
son, “contains a greater amount of cold
than we can possibly realize. We call it
Arctic weather when our thermometer is
down to zero; but what should we think of
fifty below? Of weather that freezes meat
hard, and makes of a sleeper’s long beard
a mass of ice frozen fast to the buffalo-
skin, not much that is favorable can be
said; and the only wonder is that any
Arctic explorers come back alive to tell the
tale. With cold and darkness together,
such a winter must be very dreadful to
those who have lived in a temperate region,
as it seems hard enough even for the
natives.”

“Do they mind the cold?” asked Mal-
colm.

“Not as we should, because they were
born in this inhospitable region, and their

198 WATER-ANIMALS.

dress and food are a great protection
against the cold. First they wear an un-
dershirt made of bird-skins which have
been chewed until they are quite soft, and
some of these garments contain as many
as five hundred skins of the ‘auk’ as one
species of bird is called. Next comes the
‘kapetah, a shirt which fits very loosely ;
and fast to this is a close hood, called the
‘nessak.’: After the bearskin breeches
there is a short sock of birdskin, with a
grass-padded sole; and outside of this
comes a bearskin leg, sewed with great
skill to the natural sole of the bear, and
abundantly wadded about the foot with ©
dry, non-conducting straw.”

“No wonder they are such funny-looking -
objects!” said Clara as Miss Harson turned
to a picture of some Eskimos in “ full dress.”
“T should think they scowl hardly waddle
about with all that on.’

‘They can’t feel very cold,” said Edith.

“ Besides all this,’ added their governess,
“a fox’s tail is held between the teeth to
protect the nose in a wind, and mitts of
sealskin well wadded with straw adorn the

AT THE NORTH POLE. 199

hands. How a person so attired can move
or use his limbs in any way seems a mys-
tery; and he is described as ‘a lump of

ZZ

HEAVILY CLAD.

deformity waddling over the ice, unpictur-
esque, uncouth and seemingly helpless.’ ”

“The women seem to be dressed just
like the men!” said Clara in surprise.
“How very queer that is!”

“Tt seems so to us,” was the reply; “ but
their idea of dress is to keep warm, and
they could scarcely do this in their severe
climate with any other style of clothing.
It does not look so queer when one gets

200 WATER-ANIMALS.

accustomed to it, and on a young native
girl this costume is almost pretty. I am
afraid,” added the young lady, “that you
would not like the Eskimo houses any
better than the dress.” |

“That's only a hut,” said Malcolm as
Miss Harson placed a picture before them.
“Ts it the best they've got in the way of a
house ?”’

“Tt is a fair representation of a native
Arctic residence,’ replied his governess,
“and it certainly does not look alluring to
those who are accustomed to our handsome
and comfortable houses. The hut is built,
you see, of large stones in the shape of a
dome, with a little outer one at the entrance,
from which you go down into the house, in-
stead of ~f. The stones are sodded with
turf, and the door is a narrow slab of clay-
slate. Inside of this ‘igloé,’ as it is called,
things are by no means pleasant. In de-
scribing one our explorer says: ‘At its far-
ther end a rude platform, also of stone,
was lifted about a foot above the enter-
ing floor. The roof formed something of
a curve: it was composed of flat stones, re-

Al LAE MORTE. POLL. 201

markably large and heavy, arranged so as
to overlap each other. The height of this
cave-like abode barely permitted one to sit
upright. Its length was eight feet, its

ESKIMO HOUSE.

breadth seven feet, and an expansion of
the tunneled entrance made an appendage
of perhaps two feet more.’

“You will understand better,’ continued
the young lady, “how very small this house
is when I tell you that there is not a room
at Elmridge which is not larger.”

202 WATER-ANIMALS.

“Not even our dolls’ room?” asked
Edith in amazement. | |

“Not even your dolls’ room, for that is
ten feet square. The entrance to this tiny
house, a long, narrow passage-way, is called
a ‘tossut. The stone platform inside 1s
the nearest approach to a bed that these
people have, but it also answers the pur-
pose of sofa and chairs. The temperature
in one of these habitations is something
dreadful—not from cold, but from heat—
and the inmates sit or lie about with
scarcely any clothes on, and sometimes
with none at all. Dirt abounds in such
crowded quarters, and also smoke, as wal-
rus-blubber is the favorite article of fuel,
being burned on the stone platform, while
the ‘kotluk,’ or general cooking-vessel, is
suspended over it.”

“Don’t the Eskimos eat vaw meat?”
asked Malcolm; “I didn’t suppose they
ever cooked anything.” :

“They do eat it raw, with great relish,”
was the reply, “ but they also eat it cooked.
Little children will eat long strips of raw
blubber as other children eat candy, and

wd fae NORTE POLL. 203

this habit gives the little ones a very fat
and greasy appearance. Arctic travelers
always find the Eskimos very hospitable,
and a stranger is taken into the hut at once ©
as one of the family; they are also kind
and polite to each other, and one of their
curious customs is to cry together. Every-
thing seems to be done in concert. They
often assemble by concert for a general
weeping-match; but it happens sometimes
that one will break out into tears, and
others courteously follow, without knowing
at first what is the particular subject of
grief.”

“How very funny!” exclaimed the chil-
dren.

“And just think,’ added Edith: “if we
were Eskimos, you'd all have to cry when-
ever I did!”

“Come here,” said her governess laugh-
ingly, “and let me whisper something in
your ear. Don’t you think that a great
while ago, when you were a very little girl,
we should have been kept rather busy with
our pocket-handkerchiefs ?”

“Yes, Miss Harson,” was the brave re-

’

204 WATER-ANIMALS.

ply, with very red cheeks; “I used to cry
very easily. But don’t you think I’ve im-
proved a little?” |

“No, dear,” with a loving kiss, “I don’t
think you have improved a &¢t/e, but a very
great deal; and I should almost expect you
to meet a polar bear now without crying.”

“IT wish one would hurry along,’ said
Malcolm; “/’m% ready for him.”

“Much more ready, [ think,” replied Miss
Harson, “than you would be if there was
any danger of his appearing.”

The young gentleman could not deny
this; and he promised, with a great show
of penitence, to be patient and learn what
he could in the mean time.

“Are the Eskimos heathens?” asked
Clara. :

“Some of them still are; but Lutheran
and Moravian missionaries from Denmark
have taught them of the Saviour, and they
can no longer be called savages. Before
these devoted men went to them with the
word of God in their hands the natives of
Greenland committed the worst crimes
without any feeling of shame, and it was

ESKIMO VILLAGE.

206 WATER-ANIMALS.

not considered safe for a vessel to touch
upon their coast. Nearly a hundred and
fifty years ago a Dutch brig was seized by
the natives and the whole crew murdered;
but now such a thing would not happen in
the whole length and breadth of the land.

“For the last hundred years Greenland
has been safer for the wrecked mariner
than many parts of our own coast. Hos-
pitality is the universal characteristic, en-
joined upon the converted as a Christian
duty, but everywhere a virtue of savage
life. From Upernavik to Cape Farewell
the Eskimo does not hesitate to devote his
own meal to the necessities of a guest.
The benefits of the missionary school are
not confined to the Christianized natives;
and it is observable that the virtues of
truth, self-reliance and generous bearing
have been inculcated successfully with men
who still cherish the wild traditionary super-
stitions of their fathers. Some of these are
persons of strongly-marked character, and
are trusted largely by the Danish officials.”

“T should think, then,’ said Malcolm,
“that people who go to Greenland would

BE LEE MOATH POLE. 207

give a great deal of money to the mission-
ary society, because if it hadn’t been for
their changing the people so they couldn’t
go at all.”

“The trouble is, Malcolm,” replied his
governess, “that those who profit by such
self-denying labors seldom think of them,
but take what they find as a matter of
course; and I am afraid that very few voy-
agers to Greenland have remembered the
missionaries.”

CHAPTER XI.

COLD COMFORT,

‘ ELL,” said Sim Jute as he rather
scornfully eyed a small, dome-like
structure on the edge of the pond, “if
that’s an Eskermow house, I don’t want to
set in it, and I guess folks’ll like their
coffee and things better out of the old
shanty. They can’t git into this thing!’

“Yes, they can,” replied Malcolm eager-
ly; “you just go through the ‘tossut, this
way.”

And down went the young gentleman on ©
his hands and knees to show how easy it
was to crawl through the narrow aperture;
but at the beginning of his efforts he was
greeted with a loud laugh from his com-
panion that made him pause in a state of
silent wrath.

Sim stopped laughing as soon as he

could, and said in a gentler voice,
208

COLD COMFORT. 209

“You've been awful good to me, Mister
Malcolm, and I| ain’t forgot any of it. You
know a heap more than I do, and you've
been interjuced to them Eskermows and
other queer folks that I don’t know nothin’
about; but I don’t s’pose they ever tried
keepin’ a coffee-stand on the ice. Any-
way, they never tried it kere, where folks
don’t crawl into houses like that; and no-
body but boys’d try to do it.”

Malcolm was disappointed; he had
worked hard, ably helped by Sim, to get
his “igloé” properly built, being fully per-
suaded that it would be a very taking idea
to dispense coffee and other refreshments
for skaters from a real Eskimo hut. And
now here was Sim, for whose benefit it was
chiefly intended, declaring that it wouldn’t
do atall! The architect had not happened
to think that people might object to the
unusual mode of entrance, and he had
only told Sim that he wanted his help in
building and that he was going to surprise
him when it was finished.

Sim was quite as much surprised as

could have been desired, but not in the
14

210 WATER-ANIMALS.

way that Malcolm wanted. He had helped
make snow-shoes, however, and had then
obligingly tumbled down in them, in com-
pany with his teacher, in vain efforts to
“glide over the snow at a rapid rate;” he
had stuffed straw into his shoes to keep his
feet warm (also under Malcolm’s instruc-
tion), and privately taken it out again when
he couldn’t stand it another minute; and
he had half swallowed something in the
shape of a fox’s tail to keep the wind from
freezing his nose on extra-cold days. All
these experiments had been meekly borne,
but when it came to occupying an Eskimo
hut, Sim politely rebelled.

“There is one thing,’ said Miss Harson,
who had come up behind the boys without
their knowing it, “which you have certainly |
forgotten, Malcolm; and that is, that Eski-
mo huts are intended for Eskimos.”

“But isn’t it zzce?’’ said Clara and Edith,
who were sure not to be very far off from
their beloved governess: ‘it’s made just
like the pictures.—How could you do it,
Malcolm ?”

“T couldn’t if Sim hadn’t helped me,”

COLD COMFORT. 2II

was the generous reply.—‘“ Do you like it,
Miss Harson ?”

“Very much indeed; it looks like an ex-
cellent imitation of their queer structures.
If I were only two or three feet high, I
should certainly explore the inside. It is
quite an ornament to the pond, and I should
not be surprised if numbers of people
came to look at it.”

Malcolm felt quite comforted by this
time, and forgave Sim for disappointing
him. The “igloé” was very much admired,
and it brought more custom than ever to
the young restaurant-keeper, who quite
deserved it as a highly respectable and
useful member of society. So that the
labor was not thrown away, after all; and
Miss Harson said that it had also been a
great advantage to Malcolm to build it.

“Tt will scarcely do,” said the young lady,
smiling, “to illustrate a// our Arctic explor-
ations in that fashion; but there is one
thing we shall encounter which there is
_no danger of your imitating. I mean the
magnificent illumination known as the au-
yora borealis or northern light.”

212 WATER-ANIMALS.

“Why, we had that ere, Miss Harson,”
said Clara. “Don’t you remember show-
ing it to us ever so long ago?”

“Yes, dear, | remember it perfectly ; and
a very grand sight it was. But it is only
occasionally with us, and does not compare
with the fireworks which adorn the sky of
Greenland and other northern regions.
An ancient traveler, the first perhaps on
the Arctic shores, describes it in this
fashion :

“«There arises in Greenland a light with
the night, when the moon is new or on the >
point of becoming so, which lights up all
the country as if the moon were full; and
the darker the night the brighter the light
shines. It takes its course on the north
coast, on account of which it is called the
northern light. It looks like flying fire, and
stretches up into the sky like a high and
long palisade. It passes from one place to
another, and leaves smoke in the places it
leaves. None but those who have seen it
could give any idea of the quickness and
agility of its movements; it lasts all night
and disappears at sunrise.’”’

COLD COMFORT. 213

“ A later writer describes ‘the rays darted
by the luminous meteor as of all the colors
of the rainbow, red predominating. Here
and there the stars seemed to be floating
in blood. Glowing lines of throbbing color
spread from the dark segment on the hori-
zon, some of them passing the zenith and
quenching the light of the moon in their
electric waves, which oscillated and trembled
as if swept by a current of air. No de-
scription could give an adequate idea of
the glory which flushed the northern sky,
converting it into a vast dome of fire; but
after the magnificent spectacle had been
enjoyed for about half an hour it suddenly
disappeared, not fading gradually away
after a concentration of its rays or a dimi-
nution of its splendor, but dying abruptly,
as if an invisible hand had cut off the
supply of electricity which gave it life.’”

“The other one said it lasted all night,”
said Malcolm. “I wonder which is right?”

“ Both, I suspect,” replied his governess,
“as the illumination would vary according
to the condition of the atmosphere, just as
lightning does. But the contrast of all this

214 WATER-ANIMALS.

splendor with the white ground and stately
ice-mountains, which are all that can be
seen as far as the eye may reach, must be
very fine, and it shows that there are some
things in Greenland almost worth going to
see.”

“Does anything ever grow there, Miss
Harson?” asked Clara.

“Qh yes,” was the reply: “there is a great
deal of moss and heath, and there are even
some wild flowers. Our favorite explorer,
Dr. Kane, speaks of finding these flowers
early in June, and of finding plants green
under the dried tufts of last year; but ‘in-
stead of the graceful growth which should
characterize them, they showed only a low
scrubby sod or turf, yet studded with ©
flowers.”

‘But flowers get killed in the cold here,”
said Edith: “why don’t they there ?”

“Because ’—to the children’s great sur-
prise—“ they are protected by the snow.
It is the sharp winds that kill; and Dr.
Kane says that ‘few of us at home can
realize the protecting value of this warm
coverlet of snow. No eiderdown in the

COLD COMFORT. 215

cradle of an infant is tucked in more kindly
than is the sleeping-dress of winter about
this feeble flower-life. The first warm snows
of August and September, falling on the
thickly-pleached carpet of grasses, heaths
and willows, enshrine the flowery growths
which nestle round them in a non-conduct-
ing air-chamber; and as each successive
snow increases the thickness of the cover,
we have, before the intense cold of winter
sets in, a light cellular bed covered bya
drift six, eight or ten feet deep, in which
the plant retains its vitality.’

“A peculiar kind of moss which is found
on the coast, or rather near it, gives sucha
deep rose-hue through the snow that the
region where it grows is known as the
‘Crimson Cliffs.” Old travelers supposed
that the color was in the snow itself, but
later discoveries brought to light these tiny
moss-cups.”

“How lovely crimson moss must be!”
exclaimed Clara, who had a fondness for
bright colors; “I have never seen any.”

“You forget the sea-moss, I think,” said
Miss Harson, “which you thought so very

216 WATER-ANIMALS.

pretty when we gathered it, and which is
both crimson and rose-color. The Green-
land moss 1s, of course, different, and I am
sorry that I cannot contrive a way for you
(ijsce 1b:

“I'd much rather see an iceberg,” said
Malcolm.

“Icebergs are best in pictures,’ was the
laughing reply, “and it is not easy to see a
real one without seeing more than is at all
desirable. These huge moving mountains
of ice are the terror of the Arctic voyager,
and during an ‘ice-fog,’ which is often en-
countered at the entrance of Melville Bay—
which you will please find, Malcolm, on the
map—there is great danger of being wedged
in by them. One volume speaks of them —
as though they were living creatures when
it says: ‘ The bergs which infest this region,
and which have earned for it among the
whalers: the title of the “Bergy Hai
showed themselves all around us: we had
come in among them in the fog.”

“Did they get out again, Miss Harson ?”
with great anxiety.

“Yes, after working hard all day; but it

ee - —— Se ee EEE eee

—

SSSSS_S_lzz=aa_a_a_

218 WATER-ANIMALS,.

was a fortunate escape. At another time,
strange as it sounds, the ship was fastened
to an iceberg for safety; and this was
accomplished with great labor by planting
ice-anchors. But all this trouble was for
nothing, as the account says, ‘We had
hardly a breathing-spell before we were
startled by a set of loud crackling sounds
above us, and small fragments of ice, not
larger than a walnut, began to dot the
water like the first drops of a summer
shower. The indications were too plain;
we had barely time to cast off before the
face of the berg fell in ruins, crashing like
near artillery.’

“The most dangerous part of an iceberg
is its great bulk under the water, so that
it is impossible to tell its full size. Think,
too, of such a sheet of water as Melville
Bay being turned into a thick field of ice
when the Arctic winter has fairly set in!
The interior of the country bounded by
Baffin’s Bay is, it seems, the seat of exten-
sive glaciers, which are constantly shedding
off icebergs of the largest dimensions.”

“I'm glad we don’t live there,” said

COLD COMFORT. 219

Edith; “and / don’t want to see an ice-
berg.”

“Td like to see one,’ replied her sister,
“if I could be sure that it wouldn’t do us
any harm.”

“Perhaps there'll be one exhibited in a
cage, so that it can’t get out,’ suggested
Malcolm: “then we can all go and look
ei.

This idea was received with a burst of
merry laughter, and their governess said,

“You thought it a very odd idea to
fasten a ship to an iceberg for safety, but
what do you think of such a shelter for
travelers from an Arctic storm?”

It seemed impossible to think of it at all.
What good could an iceberg do?

“You will see,” was the reply. “There
is an account of a party traveling in sledges
who were overtaken by a fearful snow-
storm while they were in a narrow gorge
between huge icebergs, over which the
storm raged with great fury. Pieces of
ice, broken off by the hurricane, were
hurled into the pass; partial avalanches,
any one of which could have crushed the

220 WATER-ANIMALS.

sledges and their inmates, added to its
dangers, and to press on became impossible.
It was now necessary to find a shelter from
the snow-drift; but this was no difficult
matter to men accustomed to polar expedi-
tions. ‘To the icebergs! to the icebergs!’
was the cry.

“ Snow-houses were to be hollowed out
of the frozen masses, or, rather, holes were |
to be dug in which each person could
cower until the storm was: over. Knives
and hatchets were soon at work on the
brittle masses of ice, and dens were scraped
out large enough to contain two or three
persons each. The dogs were left to them-
selves, their own instinct leading them to
find sufficient shelter under the snow.

“Tn these very strange quarters the trav-
elers remained for forty-eight hours, being
obliged to shovel away the snow from the
openings to their holes every half hour.
Being provided with food, they were neither
cold nor hungry, and, secure in their retreat,
they could hear the wind roar in the narrow
pass and tear off the tops of the icebergs.
There were loud reports made by the fall

COLD COMFORT. 221

of avalanches, and other noises proclaimed
the presence of bears amid the general
confusion.”

“Did the bears find the people in the ice-
bergs?”’ asked Malcolm in great excite-
ment; “and what did these do then?”

“No, they did not care to find them, for
these terrible animals were too much occu-
pied with their own concerns to discover
the retreat of the travelers; neither the
dogs nor the sledges buried in the snow
attracted their attention, and they passed
on without doing any harm.”

This was a wonderful story, and the chil-
dren were deeply interested. Malcolm,
however, seemed rather disappointed by
the peaceable conduct of the first bears
that had appeared upon the scene.

“Miss Harson,”’ said Clara presently,
“were the dogs the same Eskimo dogs of
which you told us when we were learning
about Home Animals ?”

“The very same, I fancy, for Arctic ex-
plorers are obliged to travel in Eskimo
style. Sometimes they bring a fine team
of Newfoundland dogs with them, but these

222 WATER-ANIMALS. —

magnificent animals do not seem hardy
enough to bear the rigors of the climate,
and they soon have to be replaced by the
less lovable animals used by the Eskimos.

——E

TRAVELING IN ESKIMO STYLE.

These are said to eat everything they can
lay their paws on or get their teeth into,
even attempting a feather bed; and one
of them, to the disgust of its scientific

COLD COMFORT. 223

master, devoured two large birds’ nests
carefully gathered for specimens: ‘feathers,
filth, pebbles and moss—a peckful at the
least.’ ”’

“Oh!” said Edith, “how horrid!”

Clara was equally shocked, and Malcolm
quite enjoyed their disgust.

“There is an amusing account of one of
these dogs,” continued the young lady,
“who was known as ‘Old Grim,’ and who
gave considerable trouble to a party of
explorers. ‘Old Grim,’ says the writer, ‘is |
missing, and has been for more than a day.
Since the lamented demise of Cerberus,
my leading Newfoundlander, he has been
patriarch of our scanty kennel.

“«Old Grim was “a character’”’ such as
peradventure may at some time be found
among beings of a higher order and under
a more temperate sky. A profound hypo-
crite and time-server, he so wriggled his
adulatory tail as to secure every one’s
good graces and nobody’s respect. All
the spare morsels, the cast-off delicacies,
of the mess passed through the winnowing
jaws of Old Grim. He was never known

224 . WATER-ANIMALS.

to refuse anything offered or approachable,
and never known to be satisfied, however
prolonged and abundant the bounty or the
spoil.

“«Grim was an ancient dog: his teeth
indicated many winters, and his limbs, once
splendid tractors for the sledge, were now
covered with warts and ringbones. Some-
how or other, when the dogs were harness-
ing for a journey Old Grim was sure not to
be found; and upon one occasion, when he
was detected hiding away in a cast-off bar-
rel, he incontinently became lame. Strange
to say, he has been lame ever since, except
when the team 1s away without him.

“«Cold disagrees with Grim; but by a
system of careful watchings at the door of
our deck-house, accompanied by a discrim-—
inating use of his tail, he became at last the
one privileged intruder. My sealskin coat
has been his favorite bed for weeks to-
gether. Whatever love for an individual
Grim expressed by his tail, he could never
be induced to follow him on the ice after
the cold darkness of the winter set in; yet
the dear good old sinner would wriggle

COLD COMFORT. 225

after you to the very threshold of the gang-
way, and bid you good-bye with a depreca-
tory wag of the tail which disarmed all
resentment.

“«His appearance was quite characteris-
tic: his muzzle roofed like the old-fashioned
gable of a Dutch garret-window; his fore-
head indicating the most meagre capacity
of brains that could consist with his sanity
as a dog; his eyes small; his mouth cur-
tained by long black dewlaps; and his hide
a mangy russet, studded with chestnut-
burrs; if he has gone indeed, we ne’er
shall look upon his like again. So much
for Old Grim.

“«When yesterday’s party started to take
soundings, I thought the exercise would
benefit Grim, whose time-serving sojourn
on our warm deck had begun to render
him over-corpulent. A rope was fastened
round him—for at such critical periods he
was obstinate and even ferocious—and thus
fastened to the sledge he commenced his
reluctant journey. Reaching a stopping-
place after a while, he jerked upon his line,

parted it a foot or two from its knot, and,
15

226 WATER-ANIMALS.

dragging the remnant behind him, started
off through the darkness in the direction
of our brig. He has not been seen since.

“«Parties are out with lanterns seeking
him, for it is feared that his long cord may
have caught upon some of the rude pinna-
cles of ice which stud our floe and thus
made him a helpless prisoner. The ther-
mometer is at 44° C. below zero, and Old
Grim’s teeth could not gnaw away the cord.

“We tracked Old Grim to-day through
the snow to within six hundred yards of
the brig, and thence to that mass of snow-
packed sterility which we call the shore.
His not rejoining the ship is a mystery
quite in keeping with his character,’ ”

“Perhaps a bear ate him up,” said Edith.

Miss Harson admitted that this might be
very possible; and Grim was generally de-
nounced as a very silly dog for wandering
away from warmth and safety to meet such
a wretched end.

“Newfoundland dogs are ever so much
nicer,” said Clara; “and that obstinate ‘ Old
Grim’ was just served right.”

“Newfoundlanders are nicer in many

COLD COMFORT. 227

ways,’ was the reply, “for, besides being
voracious eaters, the Eskimo dogs still have
so much of the wild-beast nature about them
that they can scarcely be restrained from run-
ning away on the first opportunity. ‘Two
of our largest,’ says the biographer of ‘Old
Grim,’ ‘left themselves behind at Fog Inlet,
and we had to send a boat-party to-day to
their rescue. It costa pull of about eight
miles through ice and water before they
found the recreants, fat and saucy, beside
the carcass of the dead narwhal. After
more than an hour spent in attempts to
catch them, one was tied and brought on
board, but the other suicidal scamp had to
be left to his fate.”

“Flow many dogs do they have to travel
with?” asked Malcolm.

“That depends, Malcolm, upon the num-
ber of the travelers and the quantity of
baggage they carry, as a certain amount is
partitioned to each dog. Dr. Kane and
his party started with ten Newfoundland
dogs, and on reaching Greenland they pur-
chased thirty or forty Eskimo dogs from the
natives. It was almost an impossibility to

228 WATER-ANIMALS.

get enough for these creatures to eat; and
the following account of them is not very
flattering:

“«It may be noted among our little
miseries,’ says the great explorer, ‘that we
have more than fifty dogs on board, the
majority of whom might rather be charac-
terized as “ravening wolves.” To feed
this family, upon whose strength our prog-
ress and success depend, is really a difficult
matter. ‘The absence of shore- or land-ice
to the south in Baffin’s Bay has prevented
our rifles from contributing any material
aid to our commissariat. Our two bears
lasted the cormorants but eight days, and
to feed them upon the meagre allowance
of two pounds of raw flesh every other
day is an almost impossible necessity. -
Only yesterday they were ready to eat the
caboose up, for I would not give them
pemmican. Corn-meal or beans they dis-
dain to touch, and salt junk would kill
them,’”’

CHAPTER Alt.

THE POLAR BEAR ARRIVES.

, ERE is your long-wished-for polar
bear, Malcolm: how do you like
his portrait?”

He was certainly not a pretty creature
to look at; nor did he appear at all amiable
with his great wide head and grinning
jaws showing such terrible teeth, while the
powerful shoulders and thick, muscular
fore legs made him still more formidable.

Clara declared that his eyes were like a
pig's, and the little Kyles were not at all
complimentary to this “despot of the Arctic
regions.”

“Naturalists consider it a remarkable
thing,” said Miss Harson, “ that, in spite of
the ice and snow and bitter cold, added to
the darkness and semi-darkness of the nine
months’ winter, the inhabitable regions

around the North Pole are the home of
229

230 WATER-AN/IMALS.,

several mammalia, of which the most for-
midable is our charming friend here. Many
of the other animals are migratory, moving
south, and back again with the sun; but the

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POLAR BEAR.

polar bear may be called a constant resi-
dent. This clumsy-looking animal is from
eight to nine feet long, and sometimes even
larger, and he manages to shuffle along on
the snow and ice at a very rapid pace.
These great paws, both on the fore and

THE POLAR BEAR ARRIVES. 231

hind legs, are covered with natural mittens
of long thick hair which keep the bear
from sinking in the snow. He is equally
at home in the water, as he is an excellent
swimmer; and his activity, whether on land
or water, is something wonderful in a crea-
ture so clumsily made. His yellowish- white
fur grows short and fine over the back, and
longer on the lower parts of the body.
The feet are represented as bushy, with an
extra supply of fur on the soles to give the
animal a firmer hold on the ice.”

“JT wish we could have seen the feet of
those little bears that were bouncing about
in the water at Central Park,” said Clara,
regretfully.

“But we saw their cunning little yellow
heads, you know,” replied Edith; “and
they didn’t look ugly at all, like this wicked
old one.”

“But that is just what they are growing
into, Edie,” replied her governess: “most
young animals are ‘cunning’ and harmless,
but as they gain in size and strength they
act out their natures. It is very wonderful,
too, to see how the Creator has provided

232 WATER-ANIMALS.

for these different natures with their special
needs, and how his protecting care extends
even to so savage and undesirable a crea-
ture as the one we are considering. We
may ask, Why should such a life as this be
prolonged or made comfortable in any
way? but God, for wise purposes which we
cannot fathom, has placed this ferocious
animal where he is best fitted to live, and
so ordered even the color of his fur as to
inake it a protection from his enemies and
an aid to him in approaching the animals
upon which he subsists. During the long
Arctic winter his coarse thick hair is white,
like the snow and icebergs among which
he roams, while in the milder season it
takes on a yellowish hue. The thickness
of this fur protects the polar bear not only |
from the cold, but also against the tusks
and talons of the animals on which it
feeds.” |

“T should think that bear would have a
very good time,’ said Malcolm.

“He does seem to enjoy life in his own
way,’ said Miss Harson, “and not to be
without his amusements, having been seen

THE POLAR BEAR ARRIVES. 233

to slide down a steep icy bank on his hind
quarters, for no other apparent purpose
but because he liked it. His shaggy fur
was as good a protection from injury as if
he had been wrapped up in comfortables.”

A sliding polar bear! The Elmridge
children thought that if they could but
have seen ¢hat their happiness would be
complete. It was worth a journey to
Greenland.

“Does he skate too, Miss Harson?”’
asked Clara, laughingly.

“In his fashion, he does, for he is ac-
complished on the ice. Voyagers to the
Arctic regions describe the polar bear as
wandering over the fields of ice, mounting
the hummocks and looking around for prey.
With outstretched head, its little but keen
eye directed to the various points of a wide
horizon, the polar bear looks out for seals
or scents with its quick nostrils the luscious
smell of some half-putrid whale-flesh. It is
said that a piece of fat thrown into the fire
will draw a bear to a ship miles off.”

“Does he swim there ?” asked Edith.

“Yes, dear, if there is water enough; if

234 WATER-ANIMALS.

not, he shuffles along on the ice. Seals are
his favorite food; and his wonderful swim-
ming powers are scarcely a match for these
slippery animals, who are such accomplished -
swimmers themselves. So Master Bear, in-
stead of chasing his prey in the water, pre-
fers to surprise it when it is asleep on a
piece! ol sce.’

“Such a funny place to sleep on!” mur-
mured Clara.

“Funny for Miss Clara Kyle, but not
funny for a seal. When chasing a seal in
this way, the bear approaches very stealthily,
making long dives, and so manages that at
his last dive he comes up directly under the
unfortunate seal, who either tumbles into
the water in a fright, and is instantly
snapped up, or is chased on the ice, where
the bear has the advantage in point of
speed and is sure to catch him. But the
great banquet of the bear is upon a dead
whale; on which, in company with sharks,
sea-birds, etc., he feeds until the carcass is
so stripped that the weight of the bones
sinks it, and the sharks have it all to
themselves.”

THE POLAR BEAR ARRIVES. 235

“T didn’t know,” said Malcolm, “that the
polar bear was so much like a vulture ora
hyena. He seems to be about as disagree-
able in every way as he looks.”

“T don’t want to see a live one,” said
Edith in great disgust: “he’s too horrid.”

“Not aitogether horrid, dear,” replied
her governess, “for the mother bear is
very devoted to her little ones. You
must know that, in the first place, she
makes a very queer kind of nest for them
in the snow, which I am going to tell you
about. In November, or about that time,
Papa Bruin goes off seal-hunting, and
Mamma Bruin betakes herself to a snow-
bank at the foot of some cliff. Here she
burrows in the snow until she is settled to
her satisfaction, and then, curling herself
up comfortably, she lets the snow-drifts that
are sure to come pile themselves up on her
until there is such a thick coverlid between
her and the outer air that not a single whiff
of the keen, biting blast reaches her.”

“But what keeps her from smothering ?”
asked Malcolm.

“Her own breath, which keeps a small

236 WATER-ANIMALS.

passage open in the roof of her den. The
warmth of her body, too, enlarges the nest,
so that she can move herself as she likes. —
It is an enormously fat bear that goes into
this curious residence; for she has been
eating all that she could possibly stuff
down her capacious throat for some time
before, that she might be able to go for
several months without another meal.
Some time in March—and she always
knows just the right time—Mrs. Bear
breaks down the walls of her house, and
comes forth with two or three baby bears
about as large as a Newfoundland dog.
The little ones have been born under the
snow, and now they are ready to accompany
their mother on her tramps over the ice.”

“How cunning they must look!” said
Clara. “I wish we could have seen those
little ones at the Park running around.”

“Don’t you think,’ asked her brother
mischievously, “that some one else would
have been running too?”

“Yes,” was the laughing reply, “I think
that ¢hvee people would. But Miss Har-
son, I dare say, would have walked.”

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238 WATER-ANIMALS.

“She might have outrun you all,” said
that young lady, “for she is not fond of —
having even 4¢tle bears ‘running around.’
But we seldom know what we shall do in
danger until the danger comes. To return
to Mrs. Bear and her little ones: it is said
that when she is pursued she will seize her
cubs and either carry or push them forward;
and these comical little animals seem to
understand what is going on, and lighten
her labors by placing themselves across
her path to be shoved on. They were
seen once, when they had been shoved
some yards in advance, to run on until the
old bear overtook them, when they arranged
themselves in turn for a second throw.”

This amused the children very much,
and the little polar bears were certainly far
more entertaining than their parents.

“The captain of a vessel in the Arctic
regions,’ continued Miss Harson, “once
went in pursuit of three bears, as his Es-
kimo dogs were, as usual, in want of fresh
meat, and he saw that they were a mother-
bear and two young ones. He wished to
secure the cubs alive, and was very careful

THE POLAR BEAR ARRIVES. 239

in shooting at the old one. But all three
fell and were taken on board the ship; and
the captain describes their affection as quite
heartrending :

“«When the cubs saw their mother was
wounded, they commenced licking her
wounds, regardless of their own sufferings.
At length the mother began to eat the
snow, a sure sign that she was mortally
wounded. Even then her care for the cubs
did not cease, as she kept continually turn-
ing her head from one to the other, and,
though roaring with pain, she seemed to
warn them to escape if possible. Their
attachment was as great as hers; and [
was thus obliged to destroy them all. It
went much against my feelings, but the
memory of my starving dogs reconciled
me to the necessity.’ ”’

“Poor things!” sighed Edith; “what a
pity !”’

“Three polar bears less in the world!”
replied Malcolm.

“At another time,” continued their gov-
erness, “a polar bear with one cub was

pursued by two men and five dogs. The

240 WATER-ANIMALS.,

mother ran, but the little one being unable
either to keep ahead of the dogs or to
keep pace with her, she turned back and,
putting her head under its haunches, threw
it some distance ahead. The cub safe for
the moment, she would wheel around and
face the dogs, so as to give it a chance to
run away; but it always stopped just as
it alighted till she. came up and threw it
ahead again: it seemed to expect her aid,
and would not go on without it. Some-
times the mother would run a few yards
ahead, as if to coax the young one up to
her, and when the dogs came up she would
turn on them and drive them back; then,
as they dodged her blows, she would rejoin
the cub and push it on, sometimes putting
her head under it, sometimes catching it in
her mouth by the nape of the neck.”
“Oh!” said Clara, forgetting her horror
of polar bears, “I hope she got away.”
“T almost feel that I hope so too,” was
the reply; “but the cub was soon unable
to go any farther, and the men and the
dogs were too much for the mother. She
never went more than two yards ahead,

THE POLAR BEAR ARRIVES. 241

constantly looking at the cub. When the
dogs came near her she would sit upon
her haunches and take the little one between
her hind legs, fighting the dogs with her
paws and roaring so that she could have
been heard a mile off. She would stretch
her neck and snap at the nearest dog with
her shining teeth, whirling her paws like
the arms of a windmill. If she missed her
aim, not daring to pursue one dog lest the
others should harm the cub, she would give
a great roar of baffled rage, and go on
pawing and snapping and facing the ring,
grinning at the dogs with her mouth
stretched wide open.”

“T suppose the poor little cub was dread-
fully frightened,” said Edith.

“And yet, when her mother was killed,
she jumped upon the body and reared up,
for the first time growling hoarsely. The
dogs seemed quite afraid of the little crea-
ture, she fought so actively and made so
much noise, and, while tearing mouthfuls
of hair from the dead mother, they would
spring aside the minute the cub turned

toward them. The men drove the dogs
16

242 WATER-ANIMALS.

off for a time, but were obliged to shoot
the cub at last, as she would not leave the
body.”

The children were so sorry for the poor
little bear that they quite forgot her grow-
ing up into a savage big one.

“Polar bears,’ continued Miss Harson,
‘are very dangerous animals to hunt; but
it is said that they can be hunted to better
advantage in the waterthan onland. Here,
however, one will sometimes throw a canoe
into the air or crunch it in pieces with its
terrible jaws. When attacked in the water,
it tries to escape by swimming to the ice;
and when this is in small loose pieces, it
dives under the water and appears on the
opposite side. It has been seen, when shot
at a distance and able to escape, to retire
to the shelter of a hummock and apply
snow to the wound to stop the bleeding.”

“Well,” said Malcolm, “TIl remember
that the next time I cut my finger in the
tool-room. I’ve actually learned something
from a polar bear !”

“By watching the habits of animals we
may learn a great deal,’ was the reply;

THE POLAR BEAR ARRIVES. 243

“and even the most insignificant ones can
teach us something. The Eskimos, who
scarcely seem beyond intelligent animals
themselves, have, according to a description
that was written quite a number of years
ago, a most ingenious plan for the destruc-
tion of this bear without engaging in
personal combat with so dangerous an
enemy. They take a stout piece of whale-
bone about two feet in length, bend it
double and push the two ends into a piece
of blubber. The whalebone thus prepared
is placed in the open air, where the cold
immediately freezes the blubber and holds
the ends of the whalebone fast. The
weapon is now complete. Armed with
this singular instrument, the Eskimos sally
out in search of a bear, and, on finding
one, provoke it to chase them—a matter
of no great difficulty, as ‘nennook’ gen-
erally labors under an infirmity of temper
and needs but little irritation. 7
“So the bear sets off after re Eskimos,
and the Eskimos run away from the bear
as fast as they can until the animal is in
right earnest. At last the bear gains on

244. WATER-ANIMALS.

them, and is permitted to come tolerably
close, when the fugitives throw the pre-
pared whalebone at it. The bear sniffs at
it, and, finding it to be eatable, swallows it
and resumes the chase. Before very long,
however, the heat of its interior thaws the
blubber, and the whalebone, being thus set
free, springs open, and interferes so mate-
rially with the digestion of the unfortunate
animal that it gives up the chase, and soon
dies from the injuries inflicted.”

“That seems very cruel,” said Clara.

“Tt does indeed; but we must remember
that the polar bear is a very useful animal
to the Eskimo after he is killed, his flesh
and fat furnishing them with food, while the
skin is used for a variety of purposes.
Sometimes it is made, without cutting it
open, into a warm bed-sack—or, rather, the
bed itself—by turning the furry side in-
ward; and into this she Eskimo creeps and
sleeps very comfortably.”

No one seemed to think this bed a very
attractive one, and presently Malcolm
asked :

“Do the Eskimos always hunt polar

THE POLAR BEAR ARRIVES. 245

bears with a piece of whalebone? It
seems such a funny thing to do.”

“Oh no,” replied his governess; “they
often shoot them or spear them. Eskimos,
as we have seen, inhabit many different re-
gions, and their customs vary, even at short
distances ; besides, they were not acquainted
with firearms until travelers from civilized
countries introducedthem. The polar bear
is such a powerful and daring adversary
that it is a formidable thing to attempt its
destruction; and it has a habit of using its
terrible teeth in battle which leaves lifelong
scars on those hunters who are not killed
by it. ‘The hugging, pawing and boxing,’
says one who has seen this bear in its native
ice-fields, ‘which characterize the black and
grisly bears, are resorted to by it only
under peculiar circumstances. While wan-
dering over the icy fields it will rear it-
self upon its hind legs to enlarge its circle
of vision; and | have often seen it in this
attitude pawing the air as if practicing for
an apprehended conflict.’ ”’

The idea of such a great creature on its
hind legs, practicing such queer gymnastics,

246 WATER-ANIMALS.

excited a burst of merriment in the little
party, and ‘nennook,’ as the Eskimos call
it, was amusing as well as dangerous.

“Dr, Kane,” continued the young lady,
“tells a funny little story of himself anda
polar bear hunting the same seal. The fa-
mous explorer had taken off his shoes and
was crawling on his stomach, in a half-frozen
condition, along the ice after his sleeping
prey. When he got within shooting dis-
tance the seal suddenly rolled on one side
and lifted its head. Feeling that he had
nothing to do with this movement, as the
animal was gazing in an opposite direction,
the hunter soon discovered a rival in a
large bear, who was also lying on his stom-
ach, waiting, with commendable patience
and cold feet, for a — of nearer
approach.

“«What should I do?’ he continues.
‘The bear was doubtless worth more to me
than the seal, but the seal was now within
shot, and the bear a “bird in the bush.”
Besides, my bullet once invested in the
seal would leave me defenceless. I might
be giving a dinner to the bear, and saving

ee

=z

\

\

~ ~

RIVAL HUNTERS,

248 WATER-ANIMALS.

myself for his dessert. These meditations
were soon brought to a close, for a second
movement of the seal so aroused my
hunter’s instincts that I pulled the trigger.
My cap alone exploded. Instantly, with a
floundering splash, the seal descended into
the deep, and the bear, with two or three
rapid leaps, stood disconsolate by the place
of his descent. For a single moment we
stared each other in the face, and then,
with that discretion which is the better part
of valor, the bear ran off in one direction,
and I followed his example in the other.’”

Malcolm, who had been waiting with
eager interest to hear what the hunter did
next, was so overcome by this unexpected
ending that he rolled on the floor with
laughter. His sisters laughed and Miss
Harson laughed, and, hagas begun, no-
one seemed ‘able to stop.

“Tt was no laughing matter,’ said the —
young lady presently, “to the person
concerned, who, in the course of his ex-
plorations, had had numerous undesirable
meetings with polar bears. Once, when
about two miles away from the brig—luck-

THE POLAR BEAR ARRIVES. 249

ily,as he says, not more—he heard what he
thought was the bellow of a walrus on the
ice. Although at noonday, it was too dark
to distinguish anything not close at hand;
but a second roar said ‘ Bear,’ as plainly as
the words could be uttered. Roar upon
roar followed; but the noise suddenly
ceased, and, finding it very cold on the ice,
the watcher concluded to crawl to the edge
of itand peer under his hands into the dark
shadow of the hummock ridges.

“<T didso, he says. ‘One look: nothing.
A second: no bear, afterall. A third: what
is that long rounded shade? Stained ice?
Yes, stained ice. The stained ice gave a
gross menagerie roar, and charged on the
instant for my position. I had not evena
knife, and did not wait to think what would
have been appropriate if I had had one. I
ran, throwing off first one mitten and then
its fellow to avoid pursuit. I gained the
brig, and the bear got my mittens. I got
back one of them an hour afterward, but
the other was carried off as a trophy in |
spite of all the rifles we could bring to
the rescue.’ ”

250 WATER ANIMALS.

“T wonder,” said Clara, “that Dr. Kane
didn’t get eaten up?”

“He had some very narrow escapes,”
replied Miss Harson, “and they were gen-
erally very comical ones. Some of the
party who had gone on an exploring-tour
brought back accounts of a rather exciting
visit from a bear in the dead of night, when
all were asleep in their tent on the ice.
One of them was awakened by something
that seemed to be scratching the snow near
his head, and presently he discovered a
great creature of some kind walking around
the outside of the tent. He shouted to his
companions, but did not disturb the un-
known visitor, who had arrived at a time
when all the guns were out of reach on the
sledge and there was not even a stick >
inside.

“While the startled men were consider-
ing the idea of rushing out for their arms,
a large bear presented himself at the tent-
opening to see how things looked inside.
Matches and torches of newspaper were
fired at him, in the vain hope that he would
be driven away; but after musing for a little

THE POLAR BEAR ARRIVES. 251

while upon what he seemed to think rather
strange antics, though harmless on the
whole, he took up his station at the door-
way and fell to work on a seal which had
been shot the day before.

“Seeing him thus occupied, one of the
party quietly cut a hole in the back of the
tent with his knife, and crawled out to get
a boat-hook which helped to support the
ridge-pole. With this he dealt the intruder
a blow on the nose that made him retreat
beyond the sledge, and the moment was
seized to snatch a rifle and send a well-
directed ball through the bear’s body.

“It was an especial season for bears,
who were not only dangerous, but mis-
chievous and destructive, utterly ruining
the ‘caché’ or storehouse, which had been
built with great care, and leaving their
marks on everything. These tigers of the
ice had things entirely their own way, and
no obstacle seemed to hinder them. ‘Not
a morsel of pemmican remained except in
‘the iron cases, which, being round, with
conical ends, defied both claws and teeth.
They had rolled and pawed them in every

252 WATER-ANIMALS.

direction, tossing them about like footballs,
although over eighty pounds in weight. An
alcohol case, strongly iron-bound, was
dashed into small fragments, and a tin
can of liquor mashed and twisted almost
into a ball. The claws of the beast had
perforated the metal and torn it up as with
a cold chisel.

“«They were too dainty for salt meats;
ground coffee they had an evident relish
for; old canvas was a favorite, for some
reason or other; even our flag, which had
been reared “to take possession” of the
waste, was gnawed down to the very staff.
They had made a regular frolic of it, roll-
ing our bread-barrels over the ice-foot and
into the broken outside ice; and, unable to
masticate our heavy india-rubber cloth, they
had tied it up in unimaginable hard knots.’ ”

“TI don’t see how bears could tie knots,”
said Edith when the merriment over these
antics had somewhat subsided.

“TI cannot explain it, dear,’ replied her
governess, laughing; “but I think we must
acknowledge the polar bear to be the most
ingenious of all the bear family.”

GHAPTER ALT.

A THRILLING STORY.

a ORE stories about polar bears?”
said Miss Harson, in apparent sur-

prise. “Why, you have had ever so many
stories now; I wonder how many it would
take to satisfy you?”

“One good long story,” replied Malcolm,
promptly : “those were only anecdotes.”

“But they were very nice,’”’ said Edith,
to whom this seemed like a reflection on
their governess; “and the bears were very
funny. But couldn’t you tell us some-
thing dreadful, Miss Harson—something
to frighten us, you know?”

The young lady was very much amused
by this request, to which she replied:

“You mean something ¢ragzcal, Edie;
and I think I can gratify you without really
frightening you. Itis quite a terrible story,

but it turned out well, after all, and will,
253

254 WATER-ANIMALS.

I hope, satisfy you on the subject of bears.
I read such an account some time ago, and
I think I will call it

“UNWELCOME VISITORS.

“Some years ago a large exploring-party
went out in the interests of the Hudson
Bay Fur Company to examine a new tract
where a fort could be built, and they met
with some very strange and startling ad-
ventures.

‘The region to which they went was not
an utterly cheerless waste 1n summer, for
there were fir trees in abundance, as well
as pine and birch on the wooded heights,
and of these trees their house or fort was
built. This was made as warm and com-
fortable as possible, and a strong fence of
pointed stakes set up around it. An inner
court also was built, and a large wooden
shed beyond the house, which was filled
with fuel for the coming winter. An abun-
dant store of provisions, and tame reindeer
to give them milk, were provided for the
long polar night; and this soon came upon
them.

A THRILLING STORY. 255

“Jn spite of all their care the party were
half frozen, as the temperature indoors
could not be raised above 20°. No one
dared to open doors and windows, as the
vapor in the rooms would have been im-
mediately converted into snow; and in
the passage the breathing of the inmates
already produced that result. Every now
and then dull reports were heard which
startled those unaccustomed to such high
latitudes. They were caused by the creak-
ing of the trunks of trees, of which the
walls were composed, under the influence
of the intense cold. The spruce beer,
made from a decoction of young fir-branch-
lets, froze, bursting the barrels in which it
was kept; while all solid bodies resisted
the introduction of heat as if they were
petrified.

“This seemed bad enough; but presently
came the announcement that the wood was
giving out. The cold was so intense that
those who were exposed to it lost their
breath and fainted on the ice, struck down
by the cold almost as if by lightning.”

“Oh—h!”’ gasped the audience, trying

256 WATER-ANIMALS.

in vain to think how it would feel to be as
cold as this.

“The next thing that happened,” contin-
ued Miss Harson, “was dears /”

It was getting to be delightfully horrible,
and Malcolm especially was in a state of
agreeable expectation.

“There were half a dozen of them,
where one would have been too many ; and,
possibly feeling the intense cold themselves,
in addition to hunger, these most unwel-_
come visitors had managed to climb over
the palisades, and, liking the look of the |
smoke from the chimneys, they were walk-
ing up to the house.”

Fdith was getting very close indeed to
her governess, as she used to do when a
wee girl if anything terrible appeared to
be coming, and even Clara was not much
behind.

“It's getting very invteveineieaea ’ said Mal-
colm, who was leaning over the back of
the young lady’s chair. “What did they
do, Miss Harson?”

“They did a variety of things,’ was the
laughing reply, “if you mean the bears;

A THRILLING STORY. 257

and it certainly was an uncommon perform-
ance for a procession of them to march
boldly up to a dwelling full of people and
make a call. They were seen from the
windows without any feeling of fear, as it
was supposed that they would soon get
tired of prowling around the house and
take themselves off.

“But the creatures had no idea of leav-
ing, and they seemed possessed with a
determination to get into the house, as
every now and then one of them would
push its great head against the window-
pane and display the rows of terrible teeth
as it uttered a threatening growl.”

The children now glanced at the windows,
as if expecting to see polar bears on the out-
side; but Miss Harson reminded them that
bears of any kind had never been seen
within many miles of Elmridge.

“Perhaps I had better stop,’ she contin-
ued, “if my story is too exciting.”

“Oh no! no!” was the chorus; “lease
go on.” And they all tried to look as
brave as possible.

“It was a long and tiresome visit, last-
17

258 WATER-ANIMALS.

ing all that day and all night, and you may
be sure that a strict watch was kept on the
bears’ movements. [arly the next morn-
ing came the welcome news that they were
gone; no one could see them anywhere.
This comfort did not last long, however, as
one of the party, who went up to the loft,
where the provisions and valuable furs
were stored, declared that the bears were
walking around on the roof.”

“Oh!” gasped Edith, “then they could
get down the chimney!”

“No danger of that, dear, as they would
not care to be burned. ‘Two or three of
the men rushed to the loft and had the
pleasure of hearing the growls and heavy
footsteps of the four-legged savages; and
as their great claws caught in the laths of
the roof beneath the ice, there was danger
that they might tear away the woodwork.
It was too cold, however, to remain in the
loft, as all were giddy and faint from the
exposure, and they rejoined the party down
stairs, who were trying their best to keep
warm with low fires and scarcely a stick of
wood. The furs were brought down into

A THRILLING STORY. 259

the sitting-room to keep them from the
bears—who, strange to say, would have
made a meal of them—and also to pile on
the perishing human beings, who expected
to freeze to death. For those wretched
bears had broken some of the laths of the
roof with their weight and their claws, and
this let the fearful outside cold into every
part of the building. The creatures were
now working with might and main to get
into the house.

“One brave man volunteered to go for
wood; and although the shed was not
more than fifty steps from the house, he
fell fainting to the ground on breathing the
stinging cold of the outer air, and had to
be dragged back by a rope, one end of
which was fastened around his waist, while
the other was held by his companions
within doors. In carrying him in some-
thing dreadful happened.

“Before the outer door was quite closed
an enormous bear threw the whole weight
of his body against it, and growled horribly.
He was resolved to get in this time; and
the huge head, with its open, ravenous

260 , WATER-ANIMALS.

mouth, and one great fore paw, were al-
ready between the door and the wall, when
a pistol was fired into the now conveniently
open mouth, and the bear fell backward,
probably killed. It did not take long to
shut and fasten that door, and the prisoners
returned to their freezing.

“Finally, the bears got into the loft,
where they made such an uproar that night
that no one could sleep. There were con-
stant growling, stamping of feet and tear-
ing of claws, but there seemed little danger
of their breaking through the beams of the
ceiling into the lower floor. They managed,
however, to do a great deal of mischief in
an unexpected way, and to add fresh suffer-
ing to the trials of the inmates. ‘The pipes
of the stove and kitchen furnace ran all
along the loft, and, being made of lime-
bricks but imperfectly cemented together,
they could not resist great pressure for
any length of time. Now, some of the
bears scratched at the masonry, whilst
others leant against the pipes for the
sake of the warmth from the stove; so
that the bricks began to give way, and

A THRILLING STORY. 261

soon the stoves and furnace ceased to
draw.

“This was discouraging enough, but there
was worse to come. As the fires got lower
and lower, the house was filled with a thick,
disgusting smoke, the pipes were broken
and the lamps went out. It was suffocation
to remain indoors, and death by freezing to
go out. To despatch the bears was a last
resort; and, seizing hatchets and whatever
else came handy, the men rushed to the
loft and began the battle in total darkness.
Shots were fired into the smoke, and howls
were heard and scratches received in re-
turn. But the brave men would probably
have had the worst of it if help had not
come in a very startling form.

“A terrible rumbling sound suddenly
drowned the tumult, the ground became
violently agitated and the house rocked as
if it were being torn up from its founda-
tions. The beams of the walls separated,
and: through the openings the terrified
bears were seen rushing away into the
darkness, howling with rage and fright.”

“What was the matter, Miss Harson 2?”

262 WATE R-ANIMALS.

“An earthquake; which doubtless saved
the lives of the frightened people. Ani-
mals are particularly terrified by anything
out of the ordinary course of nature, and
the bears now felt it to be quite time to
leave the house.”

“TI wish they'd all been killed,’ said
Clara, quite fiercely.

“They were very thoroughly frightened,”
replied her governess, “according to the
story; but it was not enough of an earth-
quake to kill them. It was_ sufficient,
though, to turn the house to one side and
to burst the walls open, leaving the inmates
in a wretched condition for a day or two.
Repairs were made as quickly as possible,
and fortunately there was a sudden change
in the weather, and it became warm enough
to snow.”

“«Warm enough to snow’ ?” said Edith
in a bewildered way: “why, Miss Harson,
it's awful cold when it snows.” ;

“Scarcely ‘awful,’ dear, although it often
seems very cold indeed to ws. But with
the experience these poor people had we
should think it like spring in comparison.

A THRILLING STORY. 263

It was supposed that the earthquake drove
away the cold as well as the bears; and
this was one of the few occasions on which
such a visitor could be thought desirable.”

CHAPTER XT,

A CHANGE OF SCEWE,

“ T CALL that mean,’ exclaimed Malcolm,

gazing ruefully at the liquid pond;
“just when we've got used to living at the
North Pole to have it run away and leave
us! And Sim and his mother and the
white-headed baby all gone off too—it’s a
perfect shame!”’

“T don’t wonder you are indignant,’ re-
plied Miss Harson gravely; “people ought
‘to be able to skate all the year round; and
for a boy who cares nothing for tents or
boating or anything of that kind, and who
never eats fruit or vegetables, and who
does not care for flowers or trees or smiling
skies, the change is certainly very hard.”

“Now you are laughing at me, Miss
Harson.”

“Yes, and I mean to laugh at you, you
264

A CHANGE OF SCENE. 265

absurd boy! J do not wish it to be always
winter, if you do; and I doubt if Clara and
Edith do, either.”

The little girls, however, were looking
rather mournful too; it was such fun on the
pond, and the ice and snow were so pretty,
and they liked to hear about the Eskimos
and the polar bears.

“But you cannot be a/ways hearing about
them,” said their governess, laughing ; “and
there are some other people to hear about,
and at least two very peculiar animals.
Suppose that we take a sudden jump this
evening from the Arctic Circle to the
Equator, and see what is to be found
there ?”

When evening came they were quite
ready, and Malcolm said, rather unexpect-
edly,

“When any one speaks of Africa, I al-
ways think of ‘From Greenland’s icy
mountains.’ ”’

“That is a curious connection of ideas, I
think; but you probably mean that it re-
minds you of the missionary hymn begin-
ning—

266 WATER-ANIMALS.

‘From Greenland’s icy mountains,
From India’s coral strand,
Where Afric’s sunny fountains
Roll down their golden sand,—
From many an ancient river,
From many a palmy plain,
They call us to deliver
Their land from error’s chain.’ ”

“Yes” said Malcolm, “that’s it, Miss
Harson ; I knew there was something about
Africa in it.”

“Having found that out,” continued the
young lady, “we will now see what there is
in Africa. We shall be sure to find enough
to make us reverence the noble men and
women who have risked their lives, and
often lost them, in carrying the gospel to
the heathen inhabitants of what has been
very properly called the ‘Dark Continent.’
We have just been freezing in the Arctic
regions, and we shall not find any more
enjoyment in roasting under the Equator.
You all know how very hard it is to bear
the heat in our large, comfortable house at
Elmridge when the thermometer reaches
one hundred, or even ninety, degrees:
think, then, what it must be to live where

A CHANGE OF SCENE. 267

one hundred and thirty degrees is not con-
sidered extraordinary. Those who have
been born and brought up in such a cli-
mate take it as a matter of course, as the
Eskimos do their intense cold; but to go
from a temperate region to such an extreme
of heat is almost unbearable.”

“Miss Harson,”’ asked Clara, very seri-
ously, “do you think that missionaries
ought to go to such dreadful places where
they can’t live?”

“But they do live, dear; that is, a great
many of them do. And in the very worst
places white men are found who have gone
there to get rich by trading with the natives.
If people will risk their lives for the sake
of making money, should those who pro-
fess to be Christ’s faithful soldiers and
servants not be willing to do as much to
save souls from perishing? One of the
African chiefs replied to a missionary who
had been talking to him of the day of
judgment: ‘You startle me: these words
make all my bones to shake; I have no
more strength in me; but my forefathers
were living at the same time yours were,

268 WATE R-ANIMALS.

and how is it that they did not send them
word about these terrible things sooner?
They all passed away into darkness without
knowing whither they were going.’”

“Did they mind the dark ?” asked Edith,
a little surprised.

“A very terrible kind of darkness is
meant, dear,” replied her governess; “but
why do you ask?”

“T thought it was always dark there,”
said the little girl, “and that it was called
the Dark Continent.”

“Dark because unknown, and ihe people
who live there have dark skins; but they
glory in the bright sunshine, and darkness
is quite as terrible to them as it is to us.
But their uzderstandings are darkened, so
that they see things quite differently; and
the same chief, who loved the missionary
and saw how anxious he was that the peo-
ple should become Christians, said to him
at another time, ‘Do you imagine these
people will ever believe by your merely
talking to them? I can make them do
nothing except by thrashing them; and, if
you like, I shall call my headmen, and with

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RAIN DOCTOR.

270 WATEkR-ANIMALS.

our litupa (whips of rhinoceros hide) we
will soon make them all believe together.’
This was a novel way of converting people;
but as the chief did not condescend to ask
their opinion in other matters, he saw no
reason for consulting them about their
becoming Christians.”

“Did he become a Christian?’ asked
Malcolm, “and did he really whip the
people for being heathens ?”

“He did become a Christian, and did as
well as he could; but he was taught a
better way than that for influencing his
people. The greatest trouble the mission-
ary had was with the ‘ rain-makers, because
the people believed in them so thoroughly,
and in such a country as Africa rain is one
of the greatest blessings. The ground is
often parched for weeks, and even for
months, without it and a great variety of
things are used by the ‘rain doctors’ to
make the rain come. Dr. Livingstone gives
an account of a conversation that he held
with one of these supposed wonderful men,
who certainly knew how to talk very well;
it went on like this:

A CHANGE OF SCENE. ., 271

“‘VWedical Doctor: Hail, friend! How
very many medicines you have about you, |
this morning! Why, you have every med-
icine in the country here.’

“« Rain Doctor: Very true, friend; and
I ought, for the whole country needs the
rain | am making.’

““M. D.: So you really believe that you
can command the clouds? I think that can
be done by God alone.’

““R, D.: We both believe the very same
thing. It is God that makes the rain, but
I pray to him by means of these medicines;
and, the rain coming, of course it is then
mine. It was I who made it for the Bak-
wains for many years; ask them: they will
tell you the same as | do.’

“«Wf, D.: But we are distinctly told, in
the parting words of our Saviour, that we
can pray to God acceptably in his name
alone, and not by means of medicines.’

—“*R, D.: Truly.. But God told us dif-
ferently. He made black men first, and
did not love us as he did the white men.
He made you beautiful and gave you
clothing and guns and gunpowder and

272 WATER-ANIMALS.

horses and wagons, and many other things
about which we know nothing. But toward
us he had no heart. He gave us nothing
except the assegai and cattle and rain-
making, and he did not give us hearts like
yours. We never love each other. Other
tribes place medicines about our country to
prevent the rain, so that we may be dis-
persed by hunger and go to them and
augment their power. We must dissolve
their charms by our medicines. God has
given us one little thing which you know
nothing of: he has given us the knowledge
of certain medicines by which we can make |
rain. We do not despise those things
which you possess, though we are ignorant
of them. Wedon’t understand your book,
yet we don’t despise it. You ought not to
despise our little knowledge, though you
are ignorant of it.’

“VM. D.: 1 don’t despise what I am
ignorant of; I only think you are mistaken
in saying that you have medicines which
can influence the rain at all.’

“«R, D.: That’s just the way people talk
when they talk on a subject of which they

A CHANGE OF SCENE. 273

~have no knowledge. When we first opened
our eyes we found our forefathers making
rain, and we follow in their footsteps. You
who send to Kuruman for corn and who trri-
gate your garden may do without rain: we
cannot manage in that way. If we had no
rain, the cattle would have no pasture, the
cows give no milk, our children become
lean and die, our wives run away to other
tribes who do make rain and have corn,
and the whole tribe become dispersed and
lost; our fire would go out.’

“«M. D.:- 1 quite agree with you as to
the value of the rain, but you cannot charm
_ the clouds by medicines. You wait till you
see the clouds come; then you use your
medicines, and take the credit which be-
longs to God only.’

“«R, D.: | use my medicines, and you
employ yours; we are both doctors, and
doctors are not deceivers. You give a pa-
tient medicine. Sometimes God is pleased
to heal him by means of your medicine;
sometimes not—he dies. When he is
cured you take the credit of what God

does. I do the same. Sometimes God
18

274 WATER-ANIMALS.

grants us rain, sometimes not. When he
does, we take the credit of the charm.
When a patient dies, you don’t give up
trust in your medicines; neither do I when
rain fails. If you wish me to leave off my
medicines, why continue your own?’

“«M, D.: 1 give medicine to living creat-
ures within my reach, and can see the ef-
fects, though no cure follows; you pretend
to charm the clouds, which are so far above
us that your medicines never reach them.
The clouds usually lie in one direction, and
your smoke goes in another. God alone
can command the clouds. Only try and —
wait patiently: God will give us rain with-
out your medicines.’

“So,” continued Miss Harson, “the talk
would go on for some time. Dr. Living-
stone says that he never could convince one
of them in the matter of rain-making.
‘The general effect of argument is to pro-
duce the impression that you are not anx-
ious for rain at all; and it is very undesirable
to allow the idea to spread that you do not
take a generous interest in their welfare.’ ”’

The children were very much interested

A CHANGE OF SCENE. 275

in the conversation between the missionary
and the rain-maker, but they wondered how.
the latter could help believing that the
power of sending rain belongs to God
alone.

“That is because you do not quite under-
stand about these poor Africans,” replied
their governess; “and it certainly does seem
strange to ws. But you must remember that
they have always believed in this rain-mak-
ing, and to be suddenly told that there is no
truth in it is very unwelcome to them. If
it pleased God to do as he did with Elijah
and the priests of Baal when he sent down
visible fire from heaven to show his power
over the heathen, the missionary’s work
would be easy; but his only weapon is the
word of God revealed through his Son.
There is so much suffering in that hot
country for want of rain—which means
nothing to eat as well as nothing to drink
—that the rain-makers, who seldom begin
their spells until they see clouds in the sky,
are treated with great respect.”

“What do they do, Miss Harson,” asked
Clara, “to make rain ?”

276 WATER-ANIMALS.

“A great many silly things, dear, which
do not seem worth repeating. Among
other ingredients, they collect every root
and plant to be found in the country and
burn them; the ascending smoke is sup-
posed to bring down the rain, which often
follows in a day or two.”

“It’s a pity,” said Malcolm, “ that we can’t
give them some of ours, since they want it
so much and we have more than we need.”

There had been four rainy days in suc-
cession, and the young people at Elmridge
felt quite badly used.

“Yes,” replied his governess; “if it were
always best for people to have just what
they want, it would be a pity. But we have
no reason to think that it is. The thing to
be considered is how we bear the troubles
and disappointments that are sent; and
these poor Bakwains seem to bear them
very well. The women parted with most
of their ornaments to purchase corn from
more fortunate tribes. The children scoured
the country in search of the numerous bulbs
and roots which can sustain life, and the men
engaged in hunting.’ ”

A CHANGE OF SCENE. 277

“T should think the children would be
afraid,” said Edith. “Suppose a great lion
should spring on them ?”

“Such a thing would not be very likely
to happen, Edie, even in Africa; for these
dangerous animals are not at all common,
and they are seldom seen in the day-time.
The missionary says that it is very hard to
teach half-starved heathen, but that in a
Christian country people with painfully
empty stomachs would not behave any
better. The tribes, too, are often at war
with each other, which is a great hindrance;
and after going a short distance the mission-
ary may be brought to a sudden standstill
by finding that he is on hostile ground. —
He perseveres, however, through heat and
drought and discouragements of all sorts ;
and here is a very interesting account of a
day among the South Africans:

“«We rose early, because, however hot
the day may have been, the evening, night
and morning at Kolobeng were deliciously
refreshing. After family worship and break-
fast between six and seven, we went to keep
school for all who would attend, men,

278 WATER-ANIMALS.

women and children being all invited.
School over at eleven o'clock, while the
missionary's wife was occupied in domestic
matters the missionary himself had some
manual labor as a smith, carpenter or gar-
dener, according to whatever was needed
for ourselves or for the people: if for
the latter, they worked for us in the gar-
den or at some other employment; skilled.
labor was thus exchanged for the unskilled.
After dinner and an hour’s rest, the wife
attended her infant school, which the young,
who were left by their parents entirely to
their own caprice, liked amazingly, and
for which they generally mustered a hun-
dred strong; or she varied that with a
sewing-school, having classes of girls to
learn the art; this too was equally well
relished,

“<«During the day every operation must
be superintended, and both husband and
wife must labor till the sun declines. After
sunset the husband went into the town to
converse with any one willing to do so—
sometimes on general subjects, at other
times on religion. On three nights of the

A CHANGE OF SCENE. 279

week, as soon as the milking of the cows
was over and it had become dark, we had.
a public religious service, and one of in-
struction on secular subjects aided by
pictures and specimens.

“«These services were diversified by
attending upon the sick and prescribing
for them, giving. food, and otherwise assist-
ing the poor and wretched. We tried to
gain their affections by attending to the
wants of the body. The smallest acts of
friendship—an obliging word, a civil look
—are, as St. Xavier thought, no despicable
part of the missionary armor. Nor ought
the good opinion of the most abject to be
disregarded when politeness may secure it.
Their good word in the aggregate forms a
reputation which may be well employed in
procuring favor for the gospel. Show kind
attention to the reckless opponents of
Christianity on the bed of sickness and
pain, and they never can become your
personal enemies. Here, if anywhere, love
begets love.’”’

“What good people the missionary and
his wife must have been!’ said Clara;

280 WATER-ANIMALS.

“but didn’t they have enya to eat in
the dry season ?”

“Not such things as you would like to
eat,’ was the reply. ‘Once they had to
live on bran, and sometimes they ate
locusts.”

Symptoms of strong disgust from Clara
and Edith, which increased when Miss
Harson added: .

“The natives, in the kindness of their
hearts, often gave the missionary’s children
a large kind of caterpillar, which they seemed
to enjoy, and the natives themselves ate
quantities of them.”

“Well,” said Malcolm, making up one of
his worst faces, “I’m glad / haven’t got to
be a missionary and go to Africa.”

“Yet,” replied his governess with a lov-
ing gaze, “you may live to think that the
greatest honor that could possibly befall
you.”

CHAPTER XV.

SOMETHING ABOUT AFRICA.

‘

HE idea of his ever becoming a mis-

sionary quite sobered Malcolm fora
time, and he wondered if Miss Harson
really meant it in earnest.

“TI really do,’ was the smiling reply,
“for stranger things than that have hap-
pened; and all who are baptized are bound
to be missionaries, in a certain sense,
whether they go to Africa or not. Weare
all called upon to be self-denying and to
work for the good of others; and there is
a great deal of such work to be done at
home. I will tell you something about this
in a story.”

“But we haven't had any animals yet,
Miss Harson,” said Edith, wondering what
this strange order of things meant.

“Do not be frightened, dear,’ replied
281

282 WATER-ANIMALS.

her governess; “I have no intention of
telling the story zow, and the animals have
not been forgotten. But first let us see
how these poor people manage about water.
A small plant grows in that part of Africa
having a tuberous root as large as a cocoa-
nut, and the inside of this root is a mass
of cellular tissue filled with fluid much like
that in a young turnip. Owing to the
depth beneath the soil at which it is found,
it is generally deliciously cool and refresh-
ing. Another kind, named ‘mokuri,’ is
seen in other parts of the country where
long-continued heat parches the soil. This
plant is an herbaceous creeper, and deposits
underground a number of tubers, some as
large as a man’s head, at spots in a circle
a yard or more from the stem. The na-
tives strike the ground with stones on the
circumference of the circle till, by hearing a
difference of sound, they know the water-
bearing tuber to be beneath. They then
dig down a foot or so and find it.

“The women often go a long distance
from home to get water, and they carry the
shells of ostrich-eggs, instead of pails, to

SOMETHING ABOUT AFRICA. 283

put itin. Each woman will tie twenty or
thirty of these strange water-vessels to her
back in a net or bag, every shell having a
hole in it to pour in water, and when it is
full the hole is stopped with a small bunch
of grassorstraw. When taken home these
shells are carefully buried in the ground,
and brought out as occasion requires.”

“JT don’t want to go to Africa, then,” said
Clara, “for I should drink up all their
water if they have so little.”

“If you could get it,” was the laughing
reply, “I have no doubt that you would, as
you require two or three glasses of it ata
meal, with I don’t know how many between
meals; but these people are cunning enough
to hide the water which they get with so
much trouble. The Bushmen, who live in
the desert, once told a party from a more
civilized tribe who reached their village
parched with thirst that they had no water
and never drank any. They were watched
night and day, but no water was ever pro-
duced; and finally the visitors declared
that they were not men, and there was
no use in staying any longer. They prob-

284 WATER-ANIMALS.

ably had water all the time hidden under
the ground,” |

This seemed “ canal mean”’ to the
children, who could not realize how precious
a little store of water is in a country of
heat and drought, and how difficult it is to
be hospitable under such circumstances.

“ Besides,’ added the young lady, “we
do not know but that these visitors may
have been rude in their demands. A mis-
sionary says: ‘I have come into villages
where, had we acted a domineering part
and rummaged every hut, we should have
found nothing; but by sitting down quietly
and waiting with patience until the villagers
were led to form a favorable opinion of us,
a woman would bring out a shell full of
the precious fluid from I know not where.’ ”

“Isn’t Africa like a big desert, anyway ?”
asked Malcolm.

“No, indeed,” replied his governess;
“many parts of it are both fertile and beau-
tiful; the trees are magnificent, and the
pasturage, especially in South Africa, plen-
tiful enough to support large herds of
cattle. The Boers, or farmers of Dutch

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286 WATER-ANIMALS.

descent, are a wealthy class of people, and
many of them live in quite a luxurious
manner. Even the desert itself is not all
desert, as it supports multitudes of both
small and large animals, and the wild water-
melon alone covers great tracts of it.”

“T never heard of wild watermelons,”
said Clara: “do they taste like ours?”

“JT do not suppose that they are quite
the same, dear, and some of them are
bitter and not eatable at all. But want of
rain interferes very much with the supply,
while an unusually wet season makes it so
abundant that there is a feast forall. Then
animals of every sort and name, including
man, rejoice in the rich supply. The ele-
phant, true lord of the forest, revels in this
fruit, and so do the different species of
rhinoceros, although naturally so diverse
in their choice of pasturage. The various
kinds of antelopes feed on them with equal
avidity, and lions, hyenas, jackals and mice
all seem to know and appreciate the common
blessing. The natives select them by strik-
ing one melon after another with a hatchet,
and applying the tongue to the gashes.

SOMETHING ABOUT AFRICA. 287

They thus readily distinguish between the
bitter and the sweet.” |
“T’m glad we don’t have any bitter water-
melons,” said Edith, “because it wouldn’t
be nice to have people make holes in ’em
and taste ‘em before they came here.”’

Miss Harson smiled at her earnestness
as she replied:

“A great many things, dear, are not
‘nice’ which have to be borne by the
devoted missionaries in a foreign country.
But it really zs nice that so much pleasant
food, free to all, can be found in the desert.
Many other fruits grow in Africa, but we
can get very little idea of their taste from
the descriptions of them.”

“T suppose the houses are like the little
huts in the pictures,’ said Clara: “some
of them look quite pleasant among the
trees; * }

“Yes, and the missionary was sometimes
glad to exchange his tent for one of them.
‘If we slept in the tent in some villages,’ he
says, ‘the mice ran over our faces and dis-
turbed our sleep, or hungry prowling dogs
would eat our shoes and leave only the soles.

288 WATER-ANIMALS.

When they were guilty of this and other
misdemeanors, we got the loan of a hut.
The best sort of Makolo hut consists of
three circular walls with small holes for
doors, each similar to that in a dog-house,
and it is necessary to bend down the body
to get in, even when on all fours. The
roof is formed of reeds or straight sticks,
in shape like a Chinaman’s hat, bound
firmly together with circular bands, which
are lashed with the strong inner bark of
the mimosa tree. When all prepared ex-
cept the thatch, it is lifted on to the circular
wall, the rim resting on a circle of poles,
between each of which the third wall is
built. The roof is thatched with fine grass
and sewed with the same material as the
lashings, and as it projects far beyond the
walls and reaches within four feet of the
ground, the shade is the best to be found
in the country. These huts are very cool
in the hottest day, but are close and de-
ficient in ventilation by night. ‘The bed is
a mat of rushes sewed together with twine,
and the hip-bone soon becomes sore on the
hard flat surface.’ ”’

SOMETHING ABOUT AFRICA. 289

“That's much nicer than the Eskimo
houses,” said Malcolm, “but I should like
their fur bags better to sleep in.”

“Not in the climate of Africa,” replied
his governess ; “the close huts must be bad
enough there, yet such a hard bed is cer-
tainly not inviting. The natives do not
mind it, as they know nothing better, but it
adds very much to the discomfort of mis-
sionary life. The style of living under the
Equator is, of course, entirely different
from that of the Arctic regions, and while
our Eskimo friends make animated bundles -
of themselves to keep out the cold, their
African brothers wear scarcely any clothing
at all.”

“Their dresses are very short,’ said
Edith, looking at the pictures, “and they
don’t come up high enough at the top.”

“Some of them,” added her sister,“ have
only got on the mzddle of a dress.”

Malcolm thought that the men were only
“a bunch of bare arms and legs.”

“When they become Christians,” said
Miss Harson, “they are willing to dress

like civilized beings, but in a heathen state
19

290 WATER-ANIMALS.

they do not even know what a looking-glass
means. When one appears for the first time
in a place, their curiosity is unbounded, and
frequent calls are made upon the owner of
such a singular article. ‘They came fre-
quently,’ says the missionary, ‘and asked
for the looking-glass, and the remarks they
made—while I was engaged in reading, and
apparently not attending to them—on first
seeing themselves therein were amusingly
ridiculous: “Is that me?” “What a big
mouth I have!” “My ears are as big as
pumpkin-leaves.” “I have no chin at all.”
Or, “I would have been pretty, but am —
spoiled by these high cheek-bones.” “See
how my head shoots up in the middle,”
laughing vociferously all the time at their
own jokes. They readily perceive any de-
fect in each other, and give nicknames ac-
cordingly. One man came alone to have a
quiet gaze at his own features once when
he thought I was asleep: after twisting his
mouth about in various directions, he re-
marked to himself, “People say I am ugly,
and how very ugly I am, indeed!”’”
“What very funny people!” exclaimed

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292 WATER-ANIMALS.

Edith. Malcolm and Clara were equally
amused by this account.

“They have many peculiar ideas,” said
their governess, “and among them is a
great contempt for shedding tears on any
occasion whatever. Wecan realize, there-
fore, the power of God’s word among these
people when we read such a testimony as
this: ‘Baba, a mighty hunter who was ulti-
mately killed by a rhinoceros, sat listening
to the gospel in the church at Kuruman,
and the gracious words of Christ, made to
touch his heart evidently by the Holy Spirit,
melted him into tears; I have seen him and
others sink down to the ground weeping.
When Baba was lying mangled by the fu-
rious beast which tore him off his horse, he
shed no tear, but quietly prays as long as

he was conscious. ”

CHAP. BR XV

A CURIOUS WATER-LIL Y.

HERE were numerous pictures of Af-

rican scenery in the books which Miss
Harson had selected from the library, and
the children were very much surprised to
find such attractive-looking places in the
Dark Continent. The river-banks were
often charming, and the great shade-trees
seemed thick enough to keep out the
hottest sun.

“The Luambye River,” said the young
lady, “is described as a magnificent one,
often more than a mile broad, and adorned
with many islands of from three to five
miles in length. Both islands and banks
are covered with forest, and most of the
trees on the brink of the water send down
roots from their branches, like the banyan.
The islands at a little distance seem great

rounded masses of sylvan vegetation re-
293

294 WATER-ANIMALS.

clining on the bosom of the glorious stream.
The beauty of the scenery of some of the
islands is greatly increased by the date
palm, with its gracefully-curved fronds and
refreshing light-green color, near the bot-
tom of the picture, and the lofty palmyra
towering far above and casting its feathery
foliage against a cloudless sky. Many
rapids and cataracts make it still more pict-
uresque, but also very dangerous, as the
canoes then have to be taken out of the
water and carried by land to a safer place.
In this and other African rivers a curious
kind of water-lily is found, of an enormous
size and looking very much like this.”
When the children saw the “ water-lily ”
in the book they burst into peals of merri-
ment. Such an absurd, ungainly-looking
animal, or, rather, several of them, lying
flat on the water just like lily-pads, and
some of them well under it, showing only
dark shadows, while a baby of gigantic
size, with a very silly expression, was
perched on its mother’s body and sailing
along with the greatest complacency |!
“They are handsome creatures,” said

ae ee

A CURIOUS WATER-LIL Y. 295

Malcolm, presently; “their heads are
nearly as long as their bodies.”

“Not quite so bad as that,” was the re-
ply, “for the larger species are fourteen
feet long, while the head is but three feet.
This ugly head looks, as you see, like a
long box. The legs are very short in pro-
portion—a peculiarity of all water-animals
—and they have four toes, all of which
touch the ground in walking. Some of
them, you see, are collected in a group on
the bank, for they are land-animals as well,
although apparently more at home in the
water; and during the heat of the day the
hippopotamus is to be found in the middle
of the stream quite under water, only ris-
ing from time to time to breathe. Various
splashes and snorts proclaim its presence
even when it is invisible, and it can remain
under water longer than any other animal.
Yet it has sometimes been found asleep in
the forests several miles away from the
water.”

“Tt’s such an immense creature to be in
the water at all,”’said Clara, “that I wonder
it doesn’t sink. It’s ever so much larger

296 W7ATER-ANIMALS.

than a polar bear, and I shouldn’t think it
could swim a bit.”

“It is a very accomplished swimmer, and
quite the lord of the African rivers: its only
home is in these rivers, as it is not found in
any other country... Yet, strangevage a.
seems, it lives almost entirely on grass and
weeds.”

“And doesn’t it eat the fishes?” asked
Edith.

“No, dear,” replied her governess; “I
believe that the hippopotamus has never
been known to take any animal food. It
has immense eye-teeth, which are curved
in such a way that the upper ones fit inside
the lower, the surfaces that touch each other
being gradually worn flat. These tusks-—
the lower ones especially—are sometimes
very large, and have been known to weigh
as much as seventeen pounds. ‘The ivory
is quite valuable, and is often used in man-
ufacturing artificial teeth. The tusks are
said to leave their trace in the rank herb-
age by the river-banks, the ground in many
places looking as if gone over with a har-
row ; they are also employed for tearing up

{

298 WATER-ANIMALS.

aquatic weeds, on which the animals largely |
depend for food.” |

“It seems so queer, Miss Harson,’’ said
Malcolm, “that all the biggest animals only
eat grass and such things. There’s the
elephant, you know, and the cow and the
ox and all the rest of them.”

“It is a good provision for the safety of
other animals,” was the reply, “as, if these
huge creatures happened to be carnivorous,
they would soon clear the smaller ones
from the face of the earth. The hippopot-
amus, it seems, does not eat in the day-
time, but large herds collect in still, deep —
water, and the deep furrows they make in
ascending the banks to graze during the
night are everywhere apparent. They are
guided back to the water by the scent; but
a long-continued pouring rain makes it
impossible for them to perceive by that
means in which direction the river lies,
and they are found bewildered on the
land. The hunters take advantage of their
helplessness on these occasions to_ kill
them.”

“They don’t look like water-animals,”

A CURIOUS WATER-LILY. 299

said Clara; “I should think they belonged
on land.” |

“The polar bear does not look like a
water-animal,”’ replied her governess, “yet
he is better off than the hippopotamus, as
he can also get along very well on land,
or rather on ice. ‘It is impossible to judge
of the number in a herd,’ says a traveler,
‘for they are almost always hidden beneath
the water; but, as they require to come up
every few minutes to breathe, when there
is a constant succession of heads thrown
up, then the herd is supposed to be large.
They love a still reach of the stream, as in
the more rapid parts of the channel they
are floated down so quickly that much
exertion is required in swimming up again
to regain the distance lost. Such constant
exertion disturbs them in their nap. They
prefer to remain by day in a drowsy, yawn-
ing state, and, though their eyes are open,
they take little notice of things at a dis-
tance. The males utter a loud succession
of snorting grunts which may be heard a
mile off. The canoe in which I was sitting,
in passing over a wounded one elicited a

300 WATER-ANIMALS.

distinct grunting, though the animal lay
entirely under water. |

“«The young, when very little, take their
stand on the neck of the mother, and the
small head, rising above the large, comes
first to the surface. The mother, knowing
the more urgent need of her calf, comes
more frequently to the surface when it is
in her care. But in the rivers of Londa,
where they are much in danger of being
shot, even the hippopotamus gains wit by
experience; for while those in the Zambesi
put up their heads openly to blow, the
former keep their noses among water-
plants, and breathe so quietly that one
would not dream of their existence in the
river except by footprints on the banks,’ ”

“Aren't they dangerous in the water,”
asked Malcolm, “when they get among the
canoes?” |

“Sometimes, when they wish to get to
the surface and a canoe is in the way.
One hippopotamus struck a boat with her
head and nearly overturned it, one half
being lifted quite out of the water. One
man was tilted out into the river, but for-

SSS

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iy

igi
Hin

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SPEARING HIPPOPOTAMUS.

302 WATER-ANIMALS.

tunately the boat was very near the shore,
and all managed to scramble upon dry
land. The animal gazed after the canoe,
as if trying to find out how much mischief
she had done, and it was supposed that she
was avenging the death of her little one,
whom the men had speared the day before.
‘This is so unusual an occurrence, says the
writer, ‘when the precaution is taken to
coast along the shore, that my men ex-
claimed, “Is the beast mad?” ‘There were
eight of us in the canoe at the time, and
the shake it received shows the immense
power of this animal in the water.’”’

“T should think it would have been mad,”
exclaimed Clara, pitying the poor mother,
“after seeing its child killed. And I sup-
pose that if the hippopotamus didn’t like
grass better, it would have eaten the
men,”

“Quite likely, Clara, if it had caught
them; yet it is not at all probable that the
little one was killed out of cruelty, but for
use. The meat, which is said to taste like
pork, is considered good food by the na-
tives; and, besides this, they boil down the

A CURIOUS WATER-LILY. 303

fat taken from the layers between the ribs.
It is never thicker than oil in such a warm
climate, but it has a peculiarity of keeping
fresh for many years. White men do not
find it so agreeable as the natives do, as
they say it has a flavor of train oil, but
some travelers consider hippopotamus bacon
quite a delicacy. The fashion is to cut it
in narrow strips and roast it, when, says
one who has tried it, it is ‘hard and tough
as so much rope. The meat is very
fibrous, being a mere tissue of sinews.”

“TI don’t believe it’s nice,’ said Edith,
with as much earnestness as though she
expected an invitation to feast on hippo-
potamus.

“No,” replied her governess with a smile,
“T have no idea that it is, and where it is
eaten good meat is very scarce. But the
hippopotamus, when dead, is a very useful
animal. Its skin, which is two inches
thick, makes excellent handles for knives
and workmen’s tools, besides being good
for a variety of purposes; while its flesh
and fat and tusks are all valuable.”

“Miss Harson,” asked Clara, in a puzzled

304 WATER-ANIMALS.

tone, “what color are hippopotamuses? In
the pictures some look white and others
quite dark.” :

“Their color, as generally described, is
very peculiar, having a reddish tinge when
they first come out of the water. One
traveler describes them as of ‘a dark,
fleshy red, almost like raw meat, marked
irregularly with large black spots. In the
sunshine their damp bodies assume quite
a bluish-gray hue.’ Another one says that
‘the males appear of a dark color, the
females of a yellowish-brown.’”’ |

“The little ones must be comical objects,” —
said Malcolm. ;

“They are,” replied the young lady,
laughing at the recollection; “I saw one
some years ago on exhibition, and it was a
most absurd-looking animal. This ‘baby’
was said to be about two years old, and it
was just the color of a pig, with the pink
skin showing through. Its head was like a
box, and it had a stupid, wooden-y kind of
look that was very funny.” |

“Was it in a cage?” asked Edith.

“Oh no, dear: it could not have lived in

AN
Ay | AN
\

AS)

A HIPPOPOTAMUS

306 WATER-ANIMALS.

a cage. There was a large tank of water
for it to splash about in, and when it was
not doing this it stood at the head of the
steps leading down to it or walked around
among the visitors. They were not at all
afraid of it, as it was very peaceably in-
clined, and never did any more mischief
than to upset a baby or two when the little
things got in its way. It was Bes. playful,
and very fond of company.”

“Oh, Miss Harson! what became of it?”
The three children would have liked nothing
better than to go in pursuit of that young
hippopotamus. c

“T think it died,” was the reply; “and it
would be very difficult to keep such an an-
imal alive in a state of captivity. Think
of the vast expanse of water to which it is
accustomed and where it spends most of
its time lolling about in a listless, dreamy
manner. The hippopotamus is formed, in
some respects, for just such a life, and the
flexible nostrils can be tightly closed by
muscular exertion when the animal is under
water, thus preventing any from getting in.
This is sometimes the only part seen above

A CURIOUS WATER-LILY. 307

water. When the animal ‘blows’ there is
a waterspout about three feet high.”

“They can’t be very easy to kill, with
that thick skin,’ said Malcolm: “how do
the natives manage it, Miss Harson?”

“They use harpoons and spears; and
sometimes a native will go fearlessly into
the water after a hippopotamus, armed only
with a large knife. Hunters shoot it; but
‘when, out of a herd of these animals in a
river, one has been wounded, the rest are
far more wary in coming to the surface;
and should the wound have been fatal, the
carcass does not rise for an hour, but drifts
down the stream.’”’

“Jt is nice that they don’t want to kill
people,’ said Clara, “as they are so big
and strong; it doesn’t matter so much
about their being ugly.”

“JT am afraid, dear,” replied her govern-
ess, “that 1 shall have to upset your pleas-
ant idea of the hippopotamus. It does
not eat people, but a naturalist says he is
disposed to think the hippopotamus the
most dangerous to an unarmed man of all
the large mammalia of South Africa. One

308 WATER-ANIMALS.

reason of this is that the huge animal can-
not endure the sight of anything to which
it is not accustomed or which takes it by
surprise. Let it come upon a horse, an ox,
a porcupine, a log of wood, or even a flut-
tering garment suddenly crossing its path,
and it will fly upon any of them with re-
lentless fury; but let such object be with-
drawn betimes from view, and the brute in
an instant will forget all about it and go on
its way entirely undisturbed. Although in
some cases it may happen that an unpro-
tected man may elude the attack of a lion,
a buffalo or a leopard, except when they >
have been provoked, he cannot indulge the
hope of escaping the violence of a hippo-
potamus that has once got him within
reach of its power.’

“Then it is ugly outside and inside too,”
said Edith in great disgust, “and I thought
before that it was just homely and nice.”

“Not pretty, but good,” added her

brother; “but now there’s nothing nice
about it—eh, Edie? It doesn’t look much
like’ a ipet™' |

“Clara,” said Miss Harson presently, “I

A CURIOUS WATER-LILY. 309

wish you to find the fifteenth verse of the
fortieth chapter of Job, and read from that
verse to the end.”

Clara read very reverently the following
verses :

“Behold now behemoth, which I made
with thee; he eateth grass as an ox. Lo,
now, his strength zs in his loins, and his
force zs in the navel of his belly. He mov-
eth his tail like a cedar: the sinews of his
stones are wrapped together. His bones
are as strong pieces of brass; his bones are
like bars of iron. He zs the chief of the
ways of God: he that made him can make
his sword to approach wzfo him. Surely
the mountains bring him forth food, where
all the beasts of the field play. He lieth
under the shady trees, in the covert of the
reed and fens. The shady trees cover him
with their shadow ; the willows of the brook
compass him about. Behold, he drinketh up
a river, azd hasteth not: he trusteth that he
can draw up Jordan into his mouth. He
taketh it with his eyes: Azs nose pierceth
through snares.,’’*

* See also Revised Version.

310 WATER-ANIMALS.

“This,” said Miss Harson, “is the only
mention made in the Bible of the hippo-
potamus, which answers in so many ways
to the description of ‘behemoth.’ Its eat-
ing grass like an ox applies exactly, as the
hippopotamus feeds like ordinary cattle,
and, like them, it will get into a grain-field
whenever it has a chance, and doa great
deal of damage. In order to supply its
huge, massive body with nourishment it
consumes vast quantities of food, as indeed
may be inferred from the structure of its
mouth and jaws. The mouth is enormously
broad and shovel-shaped, so as to take ina
large quantity of food at once, and the
gape is so wide that when the animal opens
its jaws to their full extent it seems to split
its head into two nearly equal portions.
This great mobility of jaw is assisted by
the peculiar form of the gape, which takes
a sudden turn upward and reaches almost
to the eyes. This description is illustrated
in various pictures in books of travel in
Africa, which show the animal with open
mouth.” |

“What a dreadful mouth it must be!”

A CURIOUS WATER-LILY. 311

said Malcolm; “I don’t see how people
dare to hunt such an animal.”

“Man’s power over the beasts of the
field has continued to this day,” replied the

HIPPOPOTAMUS.

young lady, “although he sometimes falls a
victim to their ferocity. Unless the hippo-
potamus is hunted or trapped, food becomes
scarce in his neighborhood, for, besides
eating so enormously, he spoils as much as
he eats by the trampling of his heavy feet.

312 WATER-ANIMALS.

Owing to the width of the animal, the feet
are placed very far apart, and the conse-
quence is that the hippopotamus makes a
double path, the feet of each side trampling
down the herbage and causing the track
to look like double ruts, with an elevated
ridge between them.”

“And no one can say, ‘Go and drive the
hippopotamus out,’ I suppose,” said Clara,
“as they tell people here to drive the cows
Out.” |

“We can be quite sure that no one
would be found to do it,’ was the laughing
reply; “although one of the old fables
about behemoth was that he devoured
daily the herbage of a thousand hills, and
that to prevent the destruction of all grow-
ing things the herbage was miraculously
renewed every night.

“The sacred writer says that ‘he lieth
under the shady trees, in the covert of the
reeds and fens;’ and he is particularly fond
of the little islands in the river Nile which
are full of reeds and papyrus, and also of
beautiful white lotus-flowers, among which
the ugly hippopotamus looks very much

A CURIOUS WATER-LILY. 313

out of place. Being perfectly at home in
the water, he does not in the least mind the
annual rising of the river, when whole
villages are swept away and the country
left desolate: all he cares for is to find
enough to eat, and floods do not make him
at all uneasy.”

“Miss Harson,’ asked Edith, in a very
much puzzled tone, “what does it mean
about ‘his nose pierceth through snares’ ?”

“TI do not wonder that you ask, dear, for
it sounds strangely enough; but it only
means that the animal defects snares, and is
not easily taken in anything like a trap.*
‘Now this faculty of detecting snares,’ says
a naturalist, ‘is one of the chief character-
istics of the hippopotamus when it lives
near places inhabited by mankind, who are
always doing their best to destroy it. In
the first place, its body gives them an
almost unlimited supply of flesh, the fat
is very highly valued for many purposes,
the teeth are sold to the ivory-dealers
and the hide is cut up into — or ‘“ khoor-
bashes.”

* But see Revised Version.

314 WATER-ANIMALS.

“«Not content with hunting the hippo-
potamus, the natives contrive various traps,
either pitfalls or drop-traps. The former
are simply pits dug in the path of the
animal, covered with sticks and reeds, and
having at the bottom a sharp stake, on
which the victim is impaled, and so effectu-
ally prevented from escaping or a
the pit by its struggles.

“«The drop-trap is a log of wood weighted
with stones, and having at one end an iron
spike, which is sometimes poisoned. ‘The
path which the animal takes is watched, a
conveniently overhanging branch is selected,
and from that branch the cruel spear is sus-
pended by a catch or trigger exactly over
the centre of the path. One end of the
trigger supports the spear, and to the
other is attached a rope, which is brought
across the path in such a way that when
touched it releases the spear, which is driv-
en deeply into the animal’s back. If well
hung, the spear-blade divides the spine,
and the wounded animal falls on the spot;
but even if it should miss a vital part, the
poison soon does its fatal work.

A CURIOUS WATER-LILY. 315

“«In consequence of the continual per-
secution to which it is subjected the hippo-
potamus becomes exceedingly wary, and,
huge, clumsy and blundering as it looks, is
clever enough to detect either a pitfall or a
drop-trap that has not been contrived with
especial care. An old and experienced
hippopotamus becomes so wary that he
will be suspicious even of a bent twig, and,
rather than venture across it, will leave the
path, force for himself a roundabout pas-
sage, and return to the path beyond the
object that alarmed him.’”’

“He must be hard to catch,’ said Mal-
colm.

“Yes,” replied his governess; “the hip-
popotamus has more intellect than he is
generally credited with; but he is quite dis-
posed to let his enemies alone if they do
not begin the attack.”

CHAPTER “AV 4

THE RIGHT KIND, OF FEL e

: OW,” said Miss Harson, “as Africa

always makes Malcolm think of
Bishop Heber’s beautiful missionary hymn,
I will finish our hippopotamus talk with a
story of some missionary work that was
done at home.”

This was a delightful prospect to the little
audience, but, to be quite sure that they
were getting what they wanted most, the
question was asked: “Your own story,
Miss Harson ?” |

“Yes, this is all my own.”

Miss Harson then proceeded with her
story, which she called

A MISSIONARY BOAT.
The Mitchells had been comfortably set-
tled in their country-house for a month or

so, and, as they were all boys except papa
316

THE RIGHT KIND OF HELP. 317

and mamma, this country home was a great
thing for them. It was so unexpected, too,
and actually came to them—as so few
pleasant things do come—because of the
hard times.

It happened in has way: Mr. Waite, who
owned the place, was an old friend, and, as
it had not been rented for two years, he
told Mr. Mitchell that his boys might as
well have the comfort of it, and he was
welcome to occupy it all summer, rent free.
The family sometimes had a week or two
of country-life with some cousins in New
Hampshire, but the remainder of the year
was spent in the city, where Mr. Mitchell
had to work very steadily as bookkeeper in
a bank, and could allow them few luxuries.
But the boys were brought up as Christian
gentlemen, and were early taught to make
the best of things. They were so happy
and affectionate with each other that they
never thought of envying their richer com-
panions, while father and mother were both
loved and reverenced. A place in the
country all their own seemed at first almost
too good to be true, and for a week or two

318 WATER-ANIMALS.

they were constantly exploring and discov-
ering fresh delights.

A pond, a grove of chestnut trees, a hut
for camping out, were all rejoiced over in
turn, but the pond, that was almost a lake
and was beautifully shaded with willows
and alders and drooping vines, was their
great. delight. Such a place for bathing
on warm days, such a place for swimming,
and, if they only had a boat, such a place
for rowing! But there was no boat, and
how to get one became the subject of much
discussion in the family.

Papa and mamma had taken it in pawl
they felt that rowing, under proper circum-
stances, would be good exercise for the
boys and would add much to their enjoy-
ment. So banks were produced and their
contents counted—generally two or three
times over, in the hope of making more of
them; wonderful offers of work at exorbi-
tant wages were made to Mr. Mitchell by
his three sons—Teddy being too small to
be of any use—and they almost appeared
to think that they could help mamma with
her sewing at the same rates, while she

PHE, FIGHT KIND: OF HELP. 319

laughed heartily at the ridiculous proposi-
tions that were made. |

“Now, boys,’ said Mrs. Mitchell in her
pleasant way, ‘‘we are going to have a
boat if we can get one by proper means;
but we must take care not to let it become
one of the ‘inordinate affections’ from
which we pray to be delivered, nor must
we let the want of it lessen our gratitude
for the many blessings we already enjoy.
We certainly did not expect to have a>
country-house; but no sooner do we get
that than we immediately cry out for a
boat.”

“All right, little mother,’ replied “Ma-
jor,” with such a “bear's hug” as only a
fourteen-year-old boy can give, “we won’t
forget what you say. But you see if we
don’t have the boat!”

Mamma laughed, and the boys went off
as usual under the loving direction of their
elder, taking their way to the pond, as
though a contemplation of its pebbly bot-
tom might in some way lead to the appear-
ance of a boat upon its surface.

“If Uncle Jack comes,” suggested Harry,

320 WATE R-ANIMALS.

“and mamma expects him, you know, next
month—he. will certainly give us the boat.”

“T shouldn't like that,’ replied Major;
“T think it would be a great deal nicer and
more manly to get it ourselves. And I,
for one, should never tell Uncle Jack that
we wanted a boat.” |

“Oh, but he’d find it out,’ cried Phil;
“he always does find out just what people
want. You know he guessed about my
kite:

“Nota very difficult thing,” thought his
elder brothers as they remembered that this

had been almost Phil’s first word in the ©

morning and the last at night. But they
kindly refrained from telling him so, for, as
Phil himself would have said, he was “ only
a little boy then.” It was more than a
year ago.

“We'll get the boat ourselves,’ continued
Major, “and won’t we have grand times
then? What shall we name it, boys?”

Everything that a boat could be named
was suggested, and the brothers sat regu-
larly down and had such an animated dis-
cussion over it that it seemed rather funny

THE RIGHT KIND OF HELP. 32I

to think there really was no boat in exist-
ence yet.

It happened that a boat was also wanted
just then in another part of the world and
for quite a different purpose, and the next
Sunday afternoon Mrs. Mitchell, who was
seated on the shady piazza with a religious
paper in her hand, said:

“ Boys, here is something for you. Bishop
P of Africa has written a letter to the
children, asking them to help him get a
boat in which he can travel up and down
the coast. He says it is really a must-have,
for itis a rare thing for a boat to come to
Cape Mount, and it would save both time
and money. For want of it the mission-
aries are sometimes delayed a month from
their work; and the bishop says he has
been asked as much as a hundred dollars
for a boat to convey him from Monrovia to
Cape Mount. There are places to which
he must go for just one day’s work, and
which he cannot reach without losing from
two to four or five weeks. A little ocean-
yacht that will carry ten tons, and that

ought not to cost over a thousand dollars,
21

322 WATE R-ANIMALS.

will do. How about our boat in the face
of this greater need?”

At first the boys groaned, this seemed
such a complete extinguisher on their little
craft, which they had already named the
“ Firefly,’ and which was just as hard to
give up as if they had really owned it.
But then how could the bishop's work get
on unless all who knew of it helped him to
get a boat? .

Major spoke first:

“He shall have it, mother,’ looking up
with a bright smile, as if ashamed of his
momentary hesitation. “Ten dollars will —
be something toward it.” And he walked
rather hastily to the end of the piazza.

His father’s voice at his shoulder whis-
pered: 3

“Remember, my son, the words of David:
‘Neither will I offer burnt-offerings unto
the Lord my God of that which doth cost
me nothing.’”’

“Yes, papa,” was the reply, “and we are
going to work just as hard for the bishop's
boat as we would for our own.”

“Indeed we will,” chimed in Harry and

THE RIGHT KIND OF HELP. 323

Phil, after the first rush of disappointment.
And as Mr. and: Mrs. Mitchell watched the
bright young faces they could not help
thinking that a few more such earnest
workers would soon accomplish what the
good bishop desired.

The boys were laying out tasks for the
coming week by which they expected to
earn money for the missionary boat, when
mamma asked them if they would not like
to have a little talk about Africa, where
Bishop P was working and where
many good men had laid down their lives
in the service of their Lord. Mrs. Mit-
chell knew how to make these “talks” very
attractive, and the little group sat there
into the twilight hearing about the mis-
sionaries who had worked for God in that
benighted country.

Up rose three young heroes with the
morning sun, and fell very vigorously to
putting the home-lawn in order. Mamma
encouraged them with smiles from the win-
dow of her sewing-room, and had a liberal
supply of gingerbread in readiness for
their eleven-o’clock luncheon.

324 WATER-ANIMALS.

In the afternoon they went, as usual, to
bathe in their beloved pond, and Harry ex-
claimed with a sigh,

“T don’t see the Firefly here any longer.”

“The Firefly,” said Major, grandly, “has
been promoted. She has spread her sails
for the African coast, and now floats ma-
jestically on the ocean waves.”

The young orator forgot that the Firefly
never had any sails, as it was a rowboat;
but this is not to be wondered at, as he
also forgot that it never had an existence.
He deeply lamented his imaginary boat,
but he tried to think of the hard-working |
bishop and the comfort he would take in
the yacht, which Major already saw sailing
up and down the coast of Africa, doing its
good work. |

The days went on, full of work and
happiness; the boys were allowed to help
a neighboring farmer with his hay-harvest,
and their earnings had now reached quite
a respectable sum. The bishop’s boat was
a frequent subject of conversation, and they
wondered when they might venture to send
their contribution; but not while work

THE RIGHT KIND OF HELP. 325

lasted certainly, and the lads toiled ian
like a colony of beavers.

“T am afraid,” said Mr. Mitchell one
evening to his wife, “that the boys are go-
ing to have a disappointment, after all. I
see in the Sfurzt of Missions that the
bishop’s yacht is already provided for, a
generous Southern congregation having
offered to give the whole sum if neces-
sary.”

“We ought to be glad, of course,” was
the smiling reply, “and yet I should have
liked a share in the bishop’s boat; the boys
too, after all their work.”

“T wonder what they will do about it?”
continued Mr. Mitchell.

“We shall see,” replied his wife.

The younger boys received the news
with subdued delight: their beloved Firefly,
they thought, would now be restored to
them.

But Major counted out the savings, which
had now rolled up to the sum of twenty-five
dollars, and said very gravely,

“This money is not ours, but Bishop
PE ’s. We earned it for zm, and I

326 WATER-ANIMALS.

think 7 would be dishonest to take it back
again.”

“Bravo, Major!” exclaimed his father;

while the mother’s eyes were moist.
_ Harry and Phil felt quite ashamed of
their first thought and very proud of their
brother, and the little pile was made over
at once to papa, to be changed into suitable
shape for transportation to Africa.

Then “Uncle Jack” came.

He was Mrs. Mitchell’s younger brother,
always full of life and spirits and ready to
enter into all his nephews’ pleasures. No
wonder, therefore, that he was such a
favorite with them.

“Why haven’t these boys a boat?” asked
this same Uncle Jack quite suddenly one
day. “It’s just what they need on that nice
large pond, and it would do more for them
in the way of muscles and tan than anything
else you could give them.”

He was rather surprised at the effect of
his words, for the three boys looked as
guilty as though they had been doing some-
thing wrong, while Phil could scarcely help
smiling to think how clever Uncle Jack was

THE RIGHT KIND OF HELP. 327

at guessing, after all. Mrs. Mitchell began
to talk of something else, and when the
boys were out of hearing she told her
brother the story of the boat.

“The dear little fellows!” exclaimed Un-
cle Jack with suspicious-looking eyes.
“That really shames me beyond endur-
ance. I shall send a contribution to Africa
instantly, as the bishop probably needs
plenty of things besides a yacht; and the
boys shall have their boat too.”

The young Mitchells had not lifted their
eyes to anything grander than a second-
hand rowboat, but they had, one fine day, a
great surprise in the appearance of a lovely
new one that had mysteriously found its way
to the pond, and looked as though it had
always belonged there. It was painted
olive-green with red trimmings, and on the
_ bow, in bright red letters, was the magic
name “Firefly.”

“That is the loveliest story yet,’ was the
commendation that greeted Miss Harson.
But what pleased her still better was to see
that her little charges were as eager to do

328 WATER-ANIMALS.

missionary work of this kind as the Mit-
chells had been; and if there had only
been a boat wanted somewhere, they would
have worked just as hard for it. But noth-
ing seemed quite so interesting to work for
as a boat.

CHARTER. X Vii.

A PLEASANT DISCOVER Y.

EANWHILE, what had become of

Sim Jute? No one seemed to know,
for, as Malcolm said, Sim and his mother
and the white-headed baby had all gone off
together when the ice melted on the pond
and a coffee-house for skaters was no long-
er needed. They went off so early one
March morning that no one even knew
they were going until they had gone, and
their friends at Elmridge felt quite hurt
that they had not been told of their inten-
tion.

Mr. Kyle came home one day with the
exciting intelligence that he had seen Sim
among a group of newsboys selling papers,
but on catching sight of Mr. Kyle he was
off like a flash, leaving no clue to his

whereabouts. It seemed very sad, just as
329

330 WATER-ANIMALS.

he had begun to care for better things, that
he should avoid his most faithful friends in
this way; but Miss Harson said that she
would not give Sim up yet, and that she
still hoped to find him.

“T am afraid,’ said Clara, “that he has
got bad again, and that he won’t want us
to find him. I wish he hadn’t run away.”

“I suppose he thought that there was
nothing for him to do here now,’ replied
her governess, “and perhaps he had good
reasons for going as he did. We will at
least try not to judge him until we know
the truth.”

It was some time before any such oppor-
tunity occurred, but it came at last.

Miss Harson had gone to the city to
spend the day in making some necessary
purchases, and there, in a down-town street,
gazing into a picture-window, she saw the
very boy who had occupied so many of
her thoughts. She knew the back of Sim’s
head—which was all she could see—in a
moment, and before he had time to recog-
nize the young lady her hand was on his
shoulder and he was completely caught.

A PLEASANT DISCOVERY. 331

No transgressor could look more startled
at the appearance of a policeman than did
Sim at sight of Miss Harson. Yet he was
evidently pleased too, but it was difficult
to say which feeling was uppermost.

“T did’t want you to find me yet,’ he
said, very frankly, “and that is why I run
away from Mr. Kyle the day he seen me.”

Sim had not given much attention to
grammar yet, but the young lady noticed
with pleasure that he looked neat and
clean and was comfortably dressed. His
face too had a more straightforward, manly
look than it used to wear, and it was not
easy to believe that he had returned to
evil ways.

“Miss Harson,” said Sim, after a moment
of hesitation, “ will you come and see my
mother? It’s near by here, and, though we
ain’t got much of a place, it ain’t very
bad.”

The young lady went gladly, and when
they reached the spot she was most agree-
ably surprised. The neatest of little tem-
perance coffee-houses was flourishing under
Mrs. Jute’s supervision, and that worthy

332 WATER-ANIMALS.

woman herself almost had her arms round
her visitor in her delight at seeing her;
she got her into a chair in the neat little
room at the back and hada cup of coffee
in her hands, all in a moment.

Miss Harson laughed at these summary
measures as she said:

“Really, Mrs. Jute, I ought not to stay,
even to drink this nice coffee; but if you
will promise to be more communicative
than Sim has been, and tell me why you
made that sudden flitting, I shall be glad to
listen.”

Mrs. Jute made a pretence of frowning
at Sim—not succeeding very well, however,
as he was evidently the apple of her eye—
and, turning to the young lady, she replied:

“It’s just this way, Miss Harson: that
boy’s too close-mouthed to live. There
wasn’t nothing more to do at Long Pond,
and Sim was bent on comin’ to New York
and tryin’ his luck at papers or ’most any-
thin’. But he didn’t want any of you fine
folks that had been so good to him to know
until we’d got to be respectable-like.”

Miss Harson glanced kindly at the very

A PLEASANT DISCOVERY. 333

sheepish-looking boy who stood behind his
mother during this recital, to which she
replied:

“T cannot see, though, why this flitting
should have been such a very private one
that no one knew anything about it.”

“There was a lot of fellers,’ said Sim,
with downcast eyes, “that would have
pitched in and come too if they'd knowed
we was comin’; so I said to mammy that
we'd jest get off quiet-like by ourselves.
But Mary Jane hollered—’

“And the blessed child is hollerin’ this
very minit!” exclaimed Mrs. Jute, as she
bustled into a sort of closet and brought
forth the white-headed baby, with a very
open mouth and a very red face.

“And I thought,” said Sim, continuing
his narrative, “that somebody’d hear it,
sure, and come to see what was the matter.
But they didn’t, and we got off safe. We
had some money, you know, from the cof-
fee-selling at Long Pond, and I got two
rooms for mother and me and Mary Jane,
and went to sellin’ papers. ‘This was pretty
good, but not good enough; I wanted to do

334 WATER-ANIMALS,

something, Miss Harson, that you’d think
tip-top, so I talked mother into havin’ an-
other coffee-stand. When the temperance
people heard of it, they put us here; and
they say it does a lot of good keepin’
workingmen away from the liquor saloons.”

“T can easily believe that,’ replied the
young lady, who had listened with great
interest to the boy’s account; “and you
are certainly privileged, Sim, in being able
to make a comfortable living and to do
good to your fellow-creatures at the same
time. Have you ever thought of being
grateful for this?”

Sim said, half inaudibly, that “he was
tryin,’ and Miss Harson knew that from
him this meant a great deal.

“ And—there’s somethin’ else,” he added,
as if afraid of being heard: “there's money
wn the bank! And, Miss Harson, lm gow
to night-school, come winter.”

Sim stood watching the effect of this as-
tounding communication, which surprised
his visitor quite as much as he could have
desired. Indeed, Miss Harson could scarcely
believe that this was the same lawless boy

A PLEASANT DISCOVERY. 335

who, with companions like himself, had in-
fested Long Pond so unpleasantly not
many months ago.

The change in Mrs. Jute was scarcely
less wonderful, as she was now a neat, in-
dustrious, cheerful woman. The little cof-
fee-house was very popular in the neighbor-
hood, and every one had a good word for
it except the saloon-keepers.

When Miss Harson returned to Elmridge
and opened her wonderful budget of news,
great was the exclaiming over Sim Jute and
the delight at the improved condition of the
family. Edith declared that it had been
brought about by her twisted ankle, be-
cause they got acquainted with Sim when
he carried her to the house. Clara was
sure that Miss Harson was the cause, “ be-
ecause she talked so kindly to Sim that he
couldn’t “elf wanting to be good;” but Miss
Harson herself thought differently.

“We were all permitted to act as instru-
ments ; but remember,” said she, reverently,
“that ‘God giveth the increase.’ Mrs. Jute
and Sim are most encouraging examples of
what he can do in this respect.”

CHAPTER XIX.

A DANGEROUS NEIGHBOR.

* ERE’S a hippopotamus with a horn

on his lip,” said Edith at their next
sitting. She was examining one of the
books on Miss Harson’s table, and seemed
to have made quite a discovery.

“<The rhinoceros, ’’ read Malcolm; “an-
other pretty creature. Well, he does look
a good deal like a hippopotamus with a
horn; an African gentleman, too.”

“Some members of the family reside in
India,” replied his governess. “But to be
quite exact, he is not really a water-animal,
only approaching it in his fondness for bath-
ing. This, and his not belonging to any
class in particular, have caused me to place
him among the amphibious quadrupeds.”

“Why, I remember him,” said Clara,
presently: “don’t you know, Edie, that he
was at the Central Park that day, looking

so wretched, with his horn off?”
336

A DANGEROUS NEIGHBOR. 337

Yes, they all remembered it now; but
‘Miss Harson told them that the poor crea-
ture there, who died soon afterward, was
quite a different object from a rhinoceros
in good condition freely roaming his native
wilds.

“There are supposed to be several varie-
ties of this animal,” continued the young
lady, “although naturalists do not quite
agree on this point, some thinking that the
varieties are all the same animal at different
ages and under different circumstances.
There are said to be four different species
in Africa alone, and the natives distinguish
them as the dore/z, or black rhinoceros; the
keitloa, or two-horned black; the moohooho,
or common white; and the £akoda, or long-
horned white rhinoceros. The black are
smaller, but more fierce, than the white
ones, and much more dangerous to the
hunter. The largest of the African species
is the long-horned white one, which is some-
times over eighteen feet long, while around
its broad back and low-hanging stomach it
would measure nearly as much.

“The Asiatic rhinoceros is considerably
22

338 | WATER-ANIMALS.

smaller, and its skin hangs in folds. Two
of these three varieties have one horn,
while the other has two. These two horns,
however, do not grow side by side, like
those of other horned animals, but the
second one rises behind the first, at some
distance, and is much smaller.”

‘What a queer-looking creature!’ said
Clara as they were all looking at a speci-
men of the two-horned variety.

“This is what a celebrated hunter in At.
rica says of the largest species,” continued
Miss Harson: ‘It is about as large around
as it is long, while the body sets so low on
its legs that a tall man on tiptoe could see
across its back. Attached to its blunt nose
—not to the bone, but merely set in the
skin, with a network of muscles to hold it
~—is a horn more or less curved, hard as
steel, sharp and more than a yard long, and
immediately behind this is a little horn,
equally sharp and nearly straight.’”

“Such a big white animal must look very
funny,’ said Malcolm: “something like a
house walking around.” |

“The so-called ‘white’ ones are not

A DANGEROUS NEIGHBOR. 339

really white,’ was the reply; “only light-
colored, like the famous white elephant.
The usual color of the rhinoceros is a dark
slate, and a very dark one is called black.
Even blue ones have been mentioned, but
this probably means that the slate color has
something the tinge of a Maltese cat. It is
described as a huge, ungainly beast, witha
disproportionately large head and a very
thick skin. This skin, in some of the
species, is curiously marked off into shields
which are almost impenetrable; and one
hide will furnish seven shields, which are
worth about two dollars apiece in a rough
state. One variety is ornamented with a
sort of folded collar, which hangs down
quite low at each side. Taken altogether,
they are not a handsome family, nor can
they generally be called amiable.”

“The white ones are good, aren’t they ?”
asked Edith.

“They have that character; they are said
to ‘feed almost entirely on grasses, and to
be of a timid, unsuspecting disposition.
This renders them an easy prey, and they
were slaughtered without mercy on the in-

340 WATER-ANIMALS. —

troduction of firearms. But even a white
rhinoceros is not always safe: one, even
after it was mortally wounded, attacked a
hunter’s horse and thrust its horn through
to the saddle, tossing both horse and rider.
I once saw a white rhinoceros, continues
the writer, ‘give a buffalo which was gazing
intently at myself a poke in the chest, but
it did not wound it, and it seemed only a
hint for it to get out of the way.”

This seemed so very comical that the
children wished they could have seen it—at
a safe distance.

“Can a rhinoceros run very fast, Miss
Harson?” asked Clara.

“Not usually as fast as a good horse,
but it is said when disturbed to go off
at a swift trot, easily getting ahead of a
man on foot.”

“T should think,” said Malcolm, “ that it
would be the man who would want to get
ahead of the rhinoceros.” _

“That depends,’ was the reply, “upon
whether the man is frightened or whether
he wishes to kill the animal. Hunters pre-
fer having their prey in front of them. The

A DANGEROUS NEIGHBOR. 341

sight of the rhinoceros is very poor, but,
as if to make up for this, his hearing and
scent are very acute. Like elephants and
buffaloes, as well as our friend the hippo-
potamus, he sleeps during the heat of the
day, and feeds at night or in the cool hours
of early morning and evening. His power
of scent will warn him of the approach of
a stranger while yet five or six hundred
yards distant, and he will generally charge
down upon an object that he smells, but
does not see, pushing with three loud whiffs
resembling the sound produced by a jet of
steam escaping from a safety-valve. His
cry has been compared, like that of the
hippopotamus, to the harsh, shrill sound of
a penny trumpet.”

“And does he only eat grass?’ asked
Edith, who thought it a very insufficient
meal for so huge a creature.

“Yes, dear,” replied her governess; “the
big animal is perfectly satisfied with grass
and leaves, especially if there are some
dainty young shoots among them. The
black rhinoceros while feeding rubs its
front horn on the ground, which quite

342 WATER-ANIMALS.

flattens the surface; another species guides .
her calf in front of her with her horn;
while with others the young one follows
behind its mother.”

“They seem to do a great deal with
their horns,’ said Malcolm.

“They do a great deal too much some-
times, even tearing them off, which causes
a great deal of bleeding and is evidently
painful, But in time a new horn grows out.
An old rhinoceros in a zoological garden
worked so continually at the bars of its
cage as to make its horn grow straight out
in front, instead of upward, and this made
her a queerer-looking object than ever.”

“Well,” said pretty Clara, who was a
little given to admiring herself, “I should
think it was queer-looking enough before. —
Pm glad /’m not an ugly rhinoceros.”

“Take care, Clara,’ was the laughing
reply. “You never heard, I suppose, what
happened to a little Hottentot who ridiculed
a rhinoceros for being ugly? At least the
poem says it happened to him. Shall I
read it to you?”

Three voices were very anxious to hear

A DANGEROUS NEIGHBOR. 343

it; and Miss Harson proceeded to read
the rhymes, which she said she had found
in a volume of Harfex's Young People:

“A FABLE FOR SMART LITTLE BOYS.

‘‘ There was a little Hottentot
Who wandered in a shady spot
Beside a sluggish river's brink,
Where savage beasts came down to drink,
When suddenly he ran across
A monstrous, grim rhinoceros.
The little blackamoor was pert,
And not afraid of being hurt,
So, without any hesitation,
He entered into conversation,
And, just to make his smartness clear,
Began to ridicule and jeer:

««¢ My gracious! what an ugly beast!
Your skin is all begrimed and creased;
And what a nose for shape and size,
With a great horn between the eyes!’

“« Whereat that big rhinoceros
Just gave his nose a little toss,
His funny little critic eyed
With grim good-humor, and replied :

“« My nose, young darkey? take a look
At yours, reflected in the brook:
Now tell me what you think of ¢hat ?’

«Mine? Why, ’twas beautifully flat
When I was born; my mother’s care
To give me a distinguished air
Has broadened it to what you see,
And made my playmates envy me.’

344 WATER-ANIMALS.

«‘¢ Yes, made you quite a beau! But hark’ee,
You most impertinent young darkey,
And let me tell you I was made
With this huge form, and thus arrayed
With a great horn upon my nose,
To serve as warning to all those |
Who poke in other folks’s platters
And make free with their neighbor’s matters.
I’ve half a mind—’twould serve you right—
To toss you fairly out of sight.
I’m coming for you now. Here goes!
Say, now, how do you like my nose ?’

“©¢Oh don’t! you dear, good, lovely beast!
I didn’t mean it in the least;
You are the sweetest beast I know,
And every one will tell you so.’

““< You little impudence! begone!
Quick, or my nose shall help you on!

‘‘ That frightened little Hottentot
Departed on a lively trot.”

This poem was highly appreciated by |
the audience, to whom the idea of a little
Hottentot making free with a big rhinoce-
ros was extremely funny.

“You see now, Clara,’ observed her
brother, mischievously, “that when you
meet a rhinoceros it won’t do to tell him
how ugly he is, but you must be sure to
say, loud enough for him to hear, that he is"

A DANGEROUS NEIGHBOR. 345

a very handsome animal and a ‘dear, good,
lovely beast.’ This may save your life,
you know.”

“That is not at all the moral of the fable,
Master Malcolm,” replied his governess,
“for it teaches us the lesson that ridiculing »
others for what they cannot help—like per-
sonal ugliness or deformity—is a hateful
propensity ; to point out another person’s
defects while we have others quite as bad
is supremely silly; while to jeer at those
who are powerful enough to crush us in
return is a dangerous indulgence.

“The horn of the rhinoceros, which -
seems to have been the particular point of
the little Hottentot’s attack, is very highly
valued because of the superstitions attached
to it; but for ivory it does not compare
with the tusks of the elephant. Rhinoce-
ros-horn shavings are supposed to cure
some diseases, and many people firmly be-
lieve that a cup made of the horn will burst
if poison is poured into it. A German
writer says of it:

“The horn will not endure the touch
of poison: I have often been a witness of

346 WATER-ANIMALS.

this. Many people of fashion at the Cape
have cups turned out of rhinoceros-horn ;
some have them set in silver and some in
gold. If wine is poured into one of these
cups it immediately rises and bubbles up
as though it were boiling, and if there is
poison in it the cup immediately splits. If
poison is put by itself into one of these
cups, the cup instantly flies to pieces. The
chips made in turning one of these cups
are carefully saved and returned to the
owner of the cup, being esteemed of great
benefit in convulsions, faintings and many
other complaints.’ ”’

“Ts that really true ?”’ asked Clara. “Do
you believe it, Miss Harson ?”

“No, Clara, I do not believe in these
wonderful powers of curing; and as for
the wine and the poison, we are not very
likely to try the experiment with either.
But there is something much more interest-
ing than this which is told of the rhinoceros
by travelers and hunters, and which we
have every reason to believe. He has a
little friend and constant attendant, called
by the natives ‘kala,’ and its object is to

A DANGEROUS NEIGHBOR. 347

rid the rhinoceros of insects and to warn it
of danger. This strange guardian is a
bird of a grayish color and about the size
of a thrush. As many as half a dozen
of these birds will devote themselves to
one of these huge animals. Very disagree-
able insects called ‘ticks, which burrow
under the skin and are not easily dislodged,
torment the huge animal, and as these birds
have sharp, curved beaks, they pierce the
thick skin and dig out the intruders.”

“But doesn’t that hurt the rhinoceros
dreadfully ?” asked Edith.

“Yes, dear, it often puts him to pain, but
he seems to understand that the pain is for
his good, and stands patiently while his
faithful little attendants probe into his flesh
in quest of the ticks. These birds also warn
the rhinoceros of any danger which his
eyes are not keen enough to see. The
large animal has an acute ear, and gener-
ally hears the first cry of its associate ; but
when it is sleeping soundly, the ‘kala’
often has to flap its wings across its eyes,
which it never ceases doing until the ungain-
ly sleeper is fairly awake. The bird is fre-

348 WATER-ANIMALS.

quently heard in the morning uttering its
well-known cry as it searches for its bulky
companion, to whom it seems to be attached
after the manner of a faithful dog.”

“ How funny that does seem!”’ said Clara.
“T shouldn’t think a rhinoceros could ever
be caught, with these birds around to warn
him.”

“Hunters object to the arrangement
very much,’ replied Miss Harson, “and
one of them says: ‘Many a time have
these ever- watchful birds disappointed me in
my stalk and tempted me to invoke an an-
athema upon their devoted heads. Theyare
the best friends the rhinoceros has.”

“I don’t admire their taste,’ said Mal-
colm, “in picking out a rhinoceros for a
friend, but it’s very nice of the birds.”

“ And they must be so sorry,” said Edith,
“when they find that he’s dead. They
don’t eat him then, do they, Miss Harson ?”

“No, dear; they do not belong to the
vulture family—To answer your question,
Clara,’ continued the young lady, “ whether
other animals are not afraid of the rhino-
ceros: it is said that the kingly lion will run

A DANGEROUS NEIGHBOR. 349

away from the chance of an encounter
with him, and that the huge elephant often
gets the worst of it in a battle. In one
case, however, the impetuous rage of the
rhinoceros proved his downfall; for, having
driven his terrible horn up to the hilt in the
carcass of an elephant, he was unable to
extract it, and the latter, falling, crushed
the life out of his assailant. A traveler
once saw a fight between a gigantic ele-
phant and a black rhinoceros, that was
ended by the flight of the former. The
panther, too—and the Indian panther isa
large and powerful animal—will sometimes
try a battle with its huge neighbor, and
especially if it has a family of small kittens
reposing near where the rhinoceros is pass-
ing. But the sharp horn easily pierces the
soft, spotted skin, and the ferocious mother
is crushed beneath the ponderous feet of
her enemy.”

“And I don’t suppose the rhinoceros
wanted her ugly little kittens at all,” said
Malcolm. ‘“ What a goose the panther is
to attack a great creature like that! She
might know that she'd get the worst of it.”

350 WATER-ANIMALS.

“The love of most animals for their
young,’ replied his governess, “is so strong
that they can think of nothing else when
the little ones appear te bein danger. The
panther’s nature, too, is so fierce that were
she only the size of an ordinary cat, and
the rhinoceros twice his usual size, she
would probably make the attack in defence
of her kittens. But with no kittens at
hand she is said to glide away in the most
unobtrusive manner at sight of her clumsy
foe.” :

“Don't the hunters often get killed?”
asked Clara, “when —_ attack a rhinoce-
ros?”

“No; such an occurrence is very rare.
The natives sometimes meet with bad acci-
dents, but the accounts of travelers con-
cerning their encounters with these animals
are often very amusing. Sometimes the
great creatures even run away from the
hunters.”’

“Well,” said Malcolm in disgust, “if 7
were such a big creature, I wouldn’t run
away so easily.”

“Of course you think so,” replied Miss

A DANGEROUS NEIGHBOR. 351

Harson, “because you know the animal's
power against a man, while it does not. So
large and powerful an animal as the horse,
for instance, will be completely terrified by
a small piece of white paper fluttering in
his path, partly because it is a strange
object, and partly because the peculiar
formation of his eye magnifies it to about
six times its real size.”

“Does everything look six times larger
to a horse than it really is?” asked Clara
in amazement.—“ Only think, Edie, if a
mouse looked six times larger than it is to
us, how we should run and scream!’

“Six times more, I suppose, than you do
now,” said tormenting Malcolm.

“T thought,” said his governess, reprov-
ingly, “that you had entered into a compact
not to tease ?”

“So I did, Miss Harson, and I mean to
keep it—when I can. But I couldn’t resist
that chance.”

“And we entered into a compact,” said
Clara, amiably, “not to run and scream,
but somehow we always forget it.”

“Recollect, then,” said the young lady,

oe WATER-ANIMALS.

smiling, “that for the future you are not
to run and scream at anything short of a
rhinoceros,” :

Edith was laughing herself now, and
“snuggling up,’ as she called it, to her
governess.

“Js that all, Miss Harson?” in a tone
of regret as there came an ominous pause,

“T think it is ‘all’ I do not know of
any story to fit a rhinoceros except an
anecdote in which the reader was request-
ed to ‘imagine the great rhinoceros at the
Zoological Garden taking it into its head, |
with that little eye, target hide, bulky bones
and other items about it, to fondle its
keeper!’ The story adds, rather unnecessa-
rily, that the keeper was nearly crushed —
to death.” :

This seemed to the children rather worse
than being petted by a lion, and, on the
whole, they did not think the rhinoceros a
particularly attractive animal.

THE END.

oe
mee hee,
wee we,