A favourite house-dog, left to the care of its master’s servants, while he was himself away, would have been starved by them if it had not had recourse to the kitchen of a friend of its master’s, which in better days it had occasionally visited. On the return of the master it enjoyed plenty at home, and stood in no further need of the liberality it experienced; but still it did not forget that hospitable kitchen where it had found a resource in adversity. A few days after, the dog fell in with a duck, which, as he found in no private pond, he probably concluded to be no private property. He snatched up the duck in his teeth, carried it to the kitchen where he had been so hospitably fed, laid it at the cook’s feet, with many polite movements of the tail, and then scampered off with much seeming complacency at having given this testimony of his grateful sense of favours.
A gentleman in the county of Stirling kept a greyhound and a pointer, and being fond of coursing, the pointer was accustomed to find the hares, and the greyhound to catch them. When the season was over, it was found that the dogs were in the habit of going out by themselves, and killing hares for their own amusement. To prevent this, a large iron ring was fastened to the pointer’s neck by a leather collar, and hung down so as to prevent the dog from running, or jumping over dykes, &c. The animals, however, continued to stroll out to the fields together; and one day the gentleman, suspecting that all was not right, resolved to watch them, and to his surprise, found that the moment when they thought that they were unobserved, the greyhound took up the iron ring in his mouth, and carrying it, they set off to the hills, and began to search for hares as usual. They were followed, and it was observed, that whenever the pointer scented the hare, the ring was dropped, and the greyhound stood ready to pounce upon poor puss the moment the other drove her from her form, but that he uniformly returned to assist his companion after he had caught his prey.
A female elephant belonging to a gentleman at Calcutta broke loose from her keeper, and was lost in the woods. The excuses which the keeper made were not admitted. It was supposed that he had sold the elephant; his wife and family therefore were sold for slaves, and he was himself condemned to work upon the roads. About twelve years after, this man was ordered into the country to assist in catching wild elephants. The keeper fancied he saw his long-lost elephant in a group that was before them. He was determined to go up to it; nor could the strongest representations of the danger dissuade him from his purpose. When he approached the creature, she knew him, and giving him three salutes, by waving her trunk in the air, knelt down and received him on her back. She afterwards assisted in securing the other elephants, and likewise brought her three young ones. The keeper recovered his character; and, as a recompense for his sufferings and intrepidity, had an annuity settled on him for life. This elephant was afterwards in the possession of Governor Hastings.
An elephant, from some motive of revenge, killed his cornack, or conductor. The man’s wife, who beheld the dreadful scene, took her two children, and threw them at the feet of the enraged animal, saying, “Since you have slain my husband, take my life also, as well as that of my children.” The elephant instantly stopped, relented, and as if stung with remorse, took up the eldest boy with his trunk, placed him on its neck, adopted him for his cornack, and would never afterwards allow any other person to mount it.
A, the most common type, highly amœboid and phagocytic. Its protoplasm is finely granular, its nucleus multipartite.
B, a leucocyte closely similar to the last, but larger, and containing an undivided nucleus. It is shown with a cluster of particles of soot in its body-substance.
C, a young leucocyte, or “lymphocyte.”
D, a coarsely granular leucocyte. Its granules stain brightly with acid dyes—e.g., eosin or acid fuchsin.
A Minute Portion of the Pulp of the Spleen,very highly magnified.
Stellate connective-tissue cells form spaces containing red blood-corpuscles and leucocytes. In the centre of the diagram is shown the mode of origin of a venule. It contains two phagocytes—the upper with a nucleus, two blood-corpuscles just ingested, and one partially digested in its body-substance; the lower with two blood-corpuscles.
The stomach has been cut across a short distance from the pyloric valve, and removed, to show the viscera which lie behind it. The descending aorta and the vena cava rest upon the vertebral column. They are crossed by the pancreas and the transverse portion of the duodenum. The head of the pancreas is enclosed by the curvatures of the duodenum. The ducts of the liver and pancreas are seen entering the descending duodenum side by side.
The Diaphragm and Organs in Contact with it—A, in Expiration;
B, at the End of a Deep Inspiration. Transverse Vertical Sections in the
Line of the Armpit.
A, At the end of an ordinary expiration the lung does not extend below the upper border of the eighth rib. From this level to the middle or lower border of the tenth rib the two layers of the pleura covering respectively the inner wall of the chest and the upper surface of the diaphragm are in contact.
B, When the lung is distended with air it occupies the whole of the pleural cavity.
A Section approximately at Right Angles to the Long Axis of the Heart, exposing the Four Valves which lie very nearly in the Same Plane.
The semilunar valve which guards the aperture of the pulmonary artery is the nearest to the breast-bone.
The power of muscle varies as its cross-section. For human muscles the maximum lift amounts to from 7 to 10 kilogrammes for each square centimetre. This is a large figure, but it must be remembered that, owing to the arrangement of the bones as levers, most muscles act at a great mechanical disadvantage. The greater the difference in distance from the fulcrum between the point of application of the force and the point of incidence of the weight, when the force acts nearer to the fulcrum than the weight, the greater is the mechanical disadvantage. The greater also is the rapidity with which the weight is lifted. What is lost in strength is gained in swiftness
Besides these two varieties of bears, there is another animal, which, though it is not properly a bear, resembles one so closely that it is classed by the Chinese and Tibetans in that family. It is known to the Chinese as hua hsiung, or "mottled bear," and Milne Edwards, who studied and described it, has called it Ailuropus melanoleucus. This animal was, I believe, discovered by that enterprising missionary and naturalist, Father Armand David (who called it "white bear"), in the little eastern Tibetan principality of Dringpa or Mupin, in western Ssu-ch'uan. Five specimens have so far been secured of this very rare animal: three are in the Jardin des Plantes of Paris, the other two in the Museum at the Jesuits' establishment, at Zikawei, near Shanghai.
Rocky Mountain Sheep
One great part of the joculator's profession was the teaching of bears, apes, horses, dogs, and other animals, to imitate the actions of men, to tumble, to dance, and to perform a variety of tricks, contrary to their nature; and sometimes he learned himself to counterfeit the gestures and articulations of the brutes.
After Rosa Bonheur had painted horses, cows, and other tame animals a great many times, she began to want to paint wild animals, such as tigers and bears. She could not go to the far-away countries where they live, so she bought a lion and lioness from a man who had been there. These she kept in a very strong cage of heavy iron bars. Here she came to watch them every day.
This is one of the pictures she painted of the lion. She called him “Nero,” and was so kind to him that after a while he became quite tame. The lioness was always wild, but good old Nero soon became so gentle that Rosa Bonheur could pet him and even go into his cage.
A wolf howling
Lynx in a tree
A sheep taking in the view
While the British troops were besieging Bhurtpore in India, the water in the ponds and tanks in the neighbourhood becoming exhausted, it could only be obtained from deep and large wells. In this service elephants were especially useful.
One day two of these animals,—one of them large and strong, the other much smaller,—came together to a well. The smaller elephant carried by his trunk a bucket, which the larger, not having one, stole from him. The smaller animal knew that he could not wrest it from the other, but he eyed him, watching for an opportunity of avenging himself. The larger elephant now approached the edge of the well, when the smaller one, rushing forward with all his might, pushed him fairly into the water.
Ludicrous as was the scene, the consequences might have been disastrous. Should the huge animal not be got out, the water would be spoiled; at all events, his floundering about would make it very muddy. The elephant, however, seemed in no way disconcerted, and kept floating at his ease, enjoying the cool liquid, and exhibiting no wish to come out of it. At length a number of fascines used in the siege were brought, and these being lowered into the well, the elephant was induced by his driver to place them under his feet. In this way a pile was raised sufficiently high to enable him to stand upon it. But, being unwilling to leave the water, he after a time would allow no more fascines to be lowered; and his driver had to caress him, and promise him plenty of arrack as a reward, to induce him to raise himself out of the water. Thus incited, the elephant permitted more fascines to be thrown in; and at length, after some masonry was removed from the margin of the well, he was able to step out—the whole operation having occupied fourteen hours.
You will probably smile at the conduct of the two huge creatures. It was curiously like that of human beings. A big boy plays a smaller one a trick—snatches something from him. The other retaliates. An uproar is raised, and often serious inconvenience follows. These two elephants behaved just like two ill-tempered boys; and through them a whole army was doomed to suffer for many hours the pangs of thirst. Remember the golden rule, “Do unto others as you would that they should do unto you.”
It is seldom that an elephant can be induced to pass over ground he considers unsafe. Sometimes, however, a driver obtains such a mastery over a timid animal, that he compels him to undertake what his better sense would induce him to decline.
An elephant of this character was owned by a person residing in the neighbourhood of Gyah. Between the house and the town was a small bridge, over which the elephant had frequently passed. One day, however, he refused to go over. He tried it with his trunk, evidently suspecting that its strength was not sufficient to bear his weight. Still, the obstinate driver urged him on with the sharp spear with which elephants are driven. At length, with cautious steps he began the passage, still showing an extreme unwillingness to proceed. As he approached the centre, loud cracks were heard, when the treacherous bridge gave way, and both elephant and rider were precipitated into the stream below; the latter being killed by the fall, and the former, who had proved himself the most sensible being of the two, being much injured.
Cart-horses, though heavy-looking animals, are more sagacious that their more gracefully formed relatives.
A cart-horse had been driven from a farmyard to the neighbouring brook early one morning during winter to drink. The water was frozen over, and the horse stamped away with his fore-feet, but was unable to break the ice. Finding this, he waited till a companion came down, when the two, standing side by side, and causing their hoofs to descend together, broke through the ice, and were thus enabled to obtain the water they required.
The monarch of the Arctic regions, the monstrous white bear there reigns supreme. Savage and ferocious as is his consort, as well as he, she shows the utmost affection for her young. I have a sad tale to tell.
The crew of an exploring vessel in the Arctic Seas had killed a walrus, and set fire to part of the blubber. The steam of the flesh drew from afar towards it a she bear and her two cubs. Putting their noses to the tempting mess, they began to eat it eagerly. The seamen, seeing this, threw other pieces on the ice nearer to the ship. The bear incautiously approached, carrying off the pieces, which she bestowed on her cubs, and, though evidently famished, taking but a small portion herself. The thoughtless sailors shot the two cubs, and again firing, wounded the mother. Though she herself was barely able to crawl to the spot where they lay, she carried to them the last lump of blubber, endeavouring to make them eat it. Discovering that they were unable to do so, she endeavoured to raise first one, and then the other; but in vain. She now began to retreat; but her motherly feelings overcoming her, though conscious of the danger she was running, she returned to where they lay, moaning mournfully. Several times did she thus behave, when, seemingly convinced that her young ones were cold and helpless, she cast a reproachful glance towards the vessel whence the cruel bullets had proceeded, and uttered a low growl of angry despair which might have moved the hearts even of the most callous. A shower of musket bullets, however, laid her low between her two cubs, and she died licking their wounds.
Affection for one of the feathered race was shown by a cat which was rearing several kittens.
In another part of the loft a pigeon had built her nest; but her eggs and young having been frequently destroyed by rats, it seemed to occur to her that she should be in safer quarters near the cat. Puss, pleased with the confidence placed in her, invited the pigeon to remain near her, and a strong friendship was established between the two. They fed out of the same dish; and when Puss was absent, the pigeon, in return for the protection afforded her against the rats, constituted herself the defender of the kittens—and on any person approaching nearer than she liked, she would fly out and attack them with beak and wings, in the hope of driving them away from her young charges. Frequently, too, after this, when neither the kittens nor her own brood required her care, and the cat went out about the garden or fields, the pigeon might be seen fluttering close by her, for the sake of her society.
I have an instance of a still stranger friendship to mention. The servants of a country-house—and I am sure that they were kind people—had enticed a frog from its hole by giving it food. As winter drew on, Froggy every evening made its way to the kitchen hearth before a blazing fire, which it found much more comfortable than its own dark abode out in the yard. Another occupant of the hearth was a favourite old cat, which at first, I daresay, looked down on the odd little creature with some contempt, but was too well bred to disturb an invited guest. At length, however, the two came to a mutual understanding; the kind heart of Puss warming towards poor chilly little Froggy, whom she now invited to come and nestle under her cozy fur. From that time forward, as soon as Froggy came out of its hole, it hopped fearlessly towards the old cat, who constituted herself its protector, and would allow no one to disturb it.
A lady in France possessed a cat which exhibited great affection for her. She accompanied her everywhere, and when she sat down always lay at her feet. From no other hands than those of her mistress would she take food, nor would she allow any one else to fondle her.
The lady kept a number of tame birds; but the cat, though she would willingly have caught and eaten strange birds, never injured one of them.
At last the lady fell ill, when nothing could induce the cat to leave her chamber; and on her death, the attendants had to carry away the poor animal by force. The next morning, however, she was found in the room of death, creeping slowly about, and mewing piteously. After the funeral, the faithful cat made her escape from the house, and was at length discovered stretched out lifeless above the grave of her mistress, having evidently died of a broken heart.
When you see Puss seated by the fireside, blinking her eyes, and looking very wise, you may often ask, “I wonder what she can be thinking about.” Just then, probably, she is thinking about nothing at all; but if you were to turn her out of doors into the cold, and shut the door in her face, she would instantly begin to think, “How can I best get in again?” And she would run round and round the house, trying to find a door or window open by which she might re-enter it.
I once heard of a cat which exerted a considerable amount of reason under these very circumstances. The house is situated in the country, and there is a door with a small porch opening on a flower-garden. Very often when this door was shut, little Deb was left outside; and on such occasions she used to mew as loudly as she could to beg for admittance. Occasionally she was not heard; but instead of running away, and trying to find some other home, she used patiently to ensconce herself in a corner of the window-sill, and wait till some person came to the house, who, on knocking at the door, found immediate attention. Many a day, no doubt, little Deb sat there on the window-sill and watched this proceeding, gazing at the knocker, and wondering what it had to do with getting the door open.
A month passed away, and little Deb grew from a kitten into a full-sized cat. Many a weary hour was passed in her corner. At length Deb arrived at the conclusion that if she could manage to make the knocker sound a rap-a-tap-tap on the door, the noise would summon the servant, and she would gain admittance as well as the guests who came to the house.
One day Deb had been shut out, when Mary, the maidservant, who was sitting industriously stitching away, heard a rap-a-tap at the front door, announcing the arrival, as she supposed, of a visitor. Putting down her work, she hurried to the door and lifted the latch; but no one was there except Deb, who at that moment leaped off the window-sill and entered the house. Mary looked along the road, up and down on either side, thinking that some person must have knocked and gone away; but no one was in sight.
The following day the same thing happened, but it occurred several times before any one suspected that Deb could possibly have lifted the knocker. At length Mary told her mistress what she suspected, and one of the family hid in the shrubbery to watch Deb’s proceedings. Deb was allowed to run out in the garden, and the door was closed. After a time the little creature was seen to climb up on the window-sill, and then to rear herself on her hind-feet, in an oblique position at the full stretch of her body, when, steadying herself with one front paw, with the other she raised the knocker; and Mary, who was on the watch, instantly ran to the door and let her in.
Deb’s knock now became as well-known to the servant as that of any other member of the family, and, no doubt to her great satisfaction, it usually met with prompt attention.
Dromedary (standing) and Bactrian Camels
Horse and buggy in a snowstorm
Of the order of toothless animals, the aardvark (Orycteropus aethiopicus), which occurs from the lowlands to the Woina-Deka, should be mentioned. The shy animal, with its smell and hearing, dwells in self-dug caves, characterized by lively leaps and a kangaroo-like position, supported by the powerful tail. It often goes only on the hind feet and nd sniffs the earth with the long, constantly moving nose, which resembles a pig's trunk, in order to look for ants. When it has discovered such a place, it begins to dig very skillfully and vigorously with the forefeet and push back the agitated Earth with the hind feet.
For urine and dung, the aardvark digs a small pit, which is then carefully covered up again. In the building itself, it sleeps curled up lying on its side. Pursued, it hurries away in rapid bursts and burrows quickly, closing the tube behind it.
Painted dog ( Lycaon pictus )
A hyena-like predator, the "painted dog“( Lycaon pictus ) in groups; he attacks the flocks and wreaks havoc among them. The steppe landscapes are the real home of this sociable, up-and-out and murderous creature that never hunts alone. It gets its name from the large, dark spots on the light skins, where it is easy to distinguish.
The burrows are of considerable dimensions, and evidently run to no small depth, as one of them has been known to absorb five barrels of water without being filled.
They are dug in a sloping direction, forming and angle of about forty-five degrees with the horizon, and after descending for five or six feet, they take a sudden turn and rise gradually upward.
The prairie dog has not the privilege of possessing a home exclusively devoted to its own use, for the Burrowing Owl, and the terrible rattlesnake, take forcible possession of the burrows, and devour the inmates, thus procuring board and lodging at very easy rates.
Mother fox bringing food to its young.
The fox is a well-known burrower, its "earth" being familiar to many by by sight, and to all by name.
Few persons, who do not know the history of the fox, would believe it to be capable of forming excavations of such extent. The fore feet of the mole are clearly formed for digging, their sharp claws penetrating the earth, their broad palms acting as shovels, and their powerful muscles giving the needful force. These limbs are essentially used for digging, and are but little employed as means of locomotion.
But the fox is an admirable runner, as any hunter can avouch, and its fore limbs are formed for speed and endurance, their length enduing them with the one quality, and their muscular lightness with the other. Yet, just as the digging limbs of the mole are used fr locomotion, and enable the animal to proceed at no contemptible speed, so the running limbs of the fox are used for digging, and e nable the creature to excavate burrows of no contemptible dimensions.
Of all the mammalia, the Mole is entitled to take first place in our list of burrowers.
This extraordinary animal does not merely dig tunnels in the ground and sit at the end of them, but forms a complicated subterranean dwelling-place, with chambers, passages, and other arrangements of wonderful completeness. It has regular roads leading to its feeding grounds; establishes a system of communication as elaborate as that of a modern railway, or to be more correct, as that of the subterranean network of metropolitan sewers; and is an animal of varied accomplishments.
A Cats Eye
A domestic cat sitting before a picture of a male lion
Study of a cat from nature
Kitten and puppy playing with a basket of apples