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AN HISTORY OF THE EARTH, AND ANIMATED NATURE:

BY OLIVER GOLDSMITH.

VOL. IV.

LONDON: Printed for J. NOURSE, in the STRAND, BOOKSELLER TO HIS MAJESTY. MDCCLXXIV.

CONTENTS.

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  • CHAP. I. OF Animals of the Hare-Kind 1
    • The Rabbit 15
    • The Squirrel 24
    • The Flying Squirrel 34
    • The Marmout 37
    • The Agouti 48
    • The Paca 52
    • The Guinea Pig 55
  • II. Of Animals of the Rat Kind 64
    • The Mouſe 72
    • The Dormouſe 76
    • The Muſk Rat 78
    • The Cricetus 81
    • The Leming 84
    • The Mole 90
  • III. Of Animals of the Hedge-Hog, or Prickly Kind 99
    • The Tanrec and Tendrac 105
    • Porcupine 107
  • IV. Of Quadrupedes covered with Scales or Shells, inſtead of Hair 116
    • The Armadilla, or Tatou 124
  • V. Of Animals of the Bat Kind 134
  • [] VI. Of Amphibious Quadrupedes 147
    • The Beaver 157
    • The Seal 167
    • The Morſe 181
    • The Manati 182
  • VII. Of Animals of the Monkey Kind 187
    • The Baboon 208
    • The Monkey 216
    • Of the Maki 238
    • Of the Oppoſſum, and its Kinds 241
  • VIII. Of the Elephant 253
  • IX. Of the Rhinoceros 285
  • X. The Hippopotamos 292
  • XI. The Camelopard. 298
  • XII. The Camel and Dromedary. 302
  • XIV. The Lama 312
  • XV. The Nyl-ghau 318
  • XVI. The Bear 321
  • XVII. The Badger 328
  • XVIII. The Tapir 331
  • XIX. The Racoon. 333
  • XX. The Coatimondi. 336
  • XXI. Of the Ant-Bear 338
  • XXII. Of the Sloth 343
  • XXIII. The Gerbua. 349

[]AN HISTORY OF ANIMALS.

CHAP. I. Of Animals of the Hare Kind.

HAVING deſcribed in the laſt chapter a tribe of minute, fierce, rapacious animals, I come now to a race of minute animals, of a more harmleſs and gentle kind, that, without being enemies to any, are preyed upon by all. As Nature has fitted the former for hoſtility, ſo it has entirely formed the latter for evaſion; and as the one kind ſubſiſt by their courage and activity, ſo the other find ſafety from their ſwiftneſs and their fears. The Hare is the ſwifteſt animal in the world for the time it continues; and few quadrupedes can overtake even the [2] rabbit when it has but a ſhort way to run. To this claſs alſo we may add the ſquirrel, ſomewhat reſembling the hare and rabbit in its form and nature, and equally pretty, inoffenſive, and pleaſing.

If we were methodically to diſtinguiſh animals of the hare kind from all others, we might ſay that they have but two cutting teeth above and two below, that they are covered with a ſoft downy fur, and that they have a buſhy tail. The combination of theſe marks might perhaps diſtinguiſh them tolerably well; whether from the rat, the beaver, the otter, or any other moſt nearly approaching in form. But, as I have declined all method that rather tends to embarraſs hiſtory than enlighten it, I am contented to claſs theſe animals together for no very preciſe reaſon, but becauſe I find a general reſemblance between them in their natural habits, and in the ſhape of their heads and body. I call a ſquirrel an animal of the hare kind, becauſe it is ſomething like a hare. I call the Paca of the ſame kind, merely becauſe it is more like a rabbit than any other animal I know of. In ſhort, it is fit to erect ſome particular ſtandard in the imagination of the reader, to refer him to ſome animal that he knows, in order to direct him in conceiving the figure of [3] ſuch as he does not know. Still, however, he ſhould be apprized that his knowledge will be defective without an examination of each particular ſpecies; and that ſaying an animal is of this or that particular kind is but a very trifling part of its hiſtory.

Animals of the hare kind, like all others that feed entirely upon vegetables, are inoffenſive and timorous. As Nature furniſhes them with a moſt abundant ſupply, they have not that rapacity after food remarkable in ſuch as are often ſtinted in their proviſion. They are extremely active and amazingly ſwift, to which they chiefly owe their protection; for being the prey of every voracious animal, they are inceſſantly purſued. The hare, the rabbit, and the ſquirrel, are placed by Pyerius, in his Treatiſe of Ruminating Animals, among the number of thoſe that chew the cud; but how far this may be true I will not pretend to determine. Certain it is that their lips continually move whether ſleeping or waking. Nevertheleſs, they chew their meat very much before they ſwallow it, and for that reaſon I ſhould ſuppoſe that it does not want a ſecond maſtication. All theſe animals uſe their fore-paws like hands; they are remarkably ſalacious, and are furniſhed by Nature with more ample powers than moſt others for the buſineſs of propagation. [4] They are ſo very prolific, that were they not thinned by the conſtant depredations made upon them by moſt other animals, they would quickly over-run the earth.

Of all theſe the hare is the largeſt, the moſt perſecuted, and the moſt timorous; all its muſcles are formed for ſwiftneſs; and all its ſenſes ſeem only given to direct its flight. It has very large prominent eyes, placed backwards in its head, ſo that it can almoſt ſee behind it as it runs. Theſe are never wholly cloſed; but as the animal is continually upon the watch, it ſleeps with them open. The ears are ſtill more remarkable for their ſize; they are moveable and capable of being directed to every quarter; ſo that the ſmalleſt ſounds are readily received, and the animal's motions directed accordingly. The muſcles of the body are very ſtrong, and without fat, ſo that it may be ſaid to carry no ſuperfluous burthen of fleſh about it; the hinder feet are longer than the fore, which ſtill adds to the rapidity of its motions; and almoſt all animals that are remarkable for their ſpeed, except the horſe, are formed in the ſame manner.

An animal ſo well formed for a life of eſcape might be ſuppoſed to enjoy a ſtate of tolerable ſecurity; but as every rapacious creature is its [5] enemy, it but very ſeldom lives out its natural term. Dogs of all kinds purſue it by inſtinct, and follow the hare more eagerly than any other animal. The cat and the weaſel kinds are continually lying in ambuſh, and practiſing all their little arts to ſeize it; birds of prey are ſtill more dangerous enemies, as againſt them no ſwiftneſs can avail, nor retreat ſecure; but man, an enemy far more powerful than all, prefers its fleſh to that of other animals, and deſtroys greater numbers than all the reſt. Thus purſued and perſecuted on every ſide, the race would long ſince have been totally extirpated, did it not find a reſource in its amazing fertility.

The hare multiplies exceedingly; it is in a ſtate of engendering at a few months old; the females go with young but thirty days, and generally bring forth three or four at a time*. As ſoon as they have produced their young they are again ready for conception, and thus do not loſe any time in continuing the breed. But they are in another reſpect fitted in an extraordinary manner for multiplying their kind; for the female, from the conformation of her womb, is often ſeen to bring forth, and yet to continue pregnant at the ſame time; or, in other words, to have young ones of different ages in her [6] womb together. Other animals never receive the male when pregnant, but bring forth their young at once. But it is frequently different with the hare; the female often, though already impregnated, admitting the male, and thus receiving a ſecond impregnation. The reaſon of this extraordinary circumſtance is, that the womb in theſe animals is divided in ſuch a manner that it may be conſidered as a double organ, one ſide of which may be filled while the other remains empty. Thus theſe animals may be ſeen to couple at every period of their pregnancy, and even while they are bringing forth young laying the foundation of another brood.

The young of theſe animals are brought forth with their eyes open, and the dam ſuckles them for twenty days, after which they leave her, and ſeek out for themſelves*. From this we obſerve, that the education theſe animals receive is but trifling, and the family connexion but of ſhort duration. In the rapacious kinds the dam leads her young forth for months together; teaches them the arts of rapine; and, although ſhe wants milk to ſupply them, yet keeps them under her care until they are able to hunt for themſelves. But a long connexion of this kind would be very unneceſſary as well [7] as dangerous to the timid animals we are deſcribing; their food is eaſily procured; and their aſſociations, inſtead of protection, would only expoſe them to their purſuers. They ſeldom, however, ſeparate far from each other, or from the place where they were produced; but make each a form at ſome diſtance, having a predilection rather for the place than each other's ſociety. They feed during the night rather than by day, chuſing the moſt tender blades of graſs, and quenching their thirſt with the dew. They live alſo upon roots, leaves, fruits and corn, and prefer ſuch plants as are furniſhed with a milky juice. They alſo ſtrip the bark of trees during the winter, there being ſcarce any that they will not feed on, except the lime or the alder. They are particularly fond of birch, pinks, and parſley. When they are kept tame, they are fed with lettuce and other garden herbs; but the fleſh of ſuch as are thus brought up is always indifferent.

They ſleep or repoſe in their forms by day, and may be ſaid to live only by night*. It is then that they go forth to feed and couple. They do not pair, however, but in the rutting ſeaſon, which begins in February; the male purſues and diſcovers the female by the ſagacity [8] of its noſe. They are then ſeen, by moonlight, playing, ſkipping, and purſuing each other; but the leaſt motion, the ſlighteſt breeze, the falling of a leaf is ſufficient to diſturb their revels; they inſtantly fly off, and each takes a ſeparate way.

As their limbs are made for running, they eaſily outſtrip all other animals in the beginning; and could they preſerve their ſpeed it would be impoſſible to overtake them; but as they exhauſt their ſtrength at their firſt efforts, and double back to the place they were ſtarted from, they are more eaſily taken than the fox, which is a much ſlower animal than they. As their hind legs are longer than the fore, they always chuſe to run up hill, by which the ſpeed of their purſuers is diminiſhed while theirs remains the ſame. Their motions are alſo without any noiſe, as they have the ſole of the foot furniſhed with hair; and they ſeem the only animals that have hair on the inſide of their mouths.

They ſeldom live above ſeven or eight years at the utmoſt; they come to their full perfection in a year; and this multiplied by ſeven, as in other animals, gives the extent of their lives*. It is ſaid, however, that the females live longer than the males: of this Mr. Buffon makes a [9] doubt; but I am aſſured that it is ſo. They paſs their lives, in our climate, in ſolitude and ſilence; and they ſeldom are heard to cry, except when they are ſeized or wounded. Their voice is not ſo ſharp as the note of ſome other animals, but more nearly approaching that of the ſqualling of a child. They are not ſo wild as their diſpoſitions and their habits ſeem to indicate; but are of a complying nature, and eaſily ſuſceptible of a kind of education. They are eaſily tamed. They even become fond and careſſing, but they are incapable of attachment to any particular perſon, and never can be depended upon; for, though taken never ſo young, they regain their native freedom at the firſt opportunity. As they have a remarkable good ear, and ſit upon their hind legs, and uſe their fore-paws as hands, they have been taught to beat the drum, to dance to muſic, and go through the manual exerciſe.

But their natural inſtincts for their preſervation are much more extraordinary than thoſe artificial tricks that are taught them. They make themſelves a form particularly in thoſe places where the colour of the graſs moſt reſembles that of their ſkin; it is open to the ſouth in winter and to the north in ſummer. The hare, when it hears the hounds at a diſtance, [10] flies for ſome time through a natural impulſe, without managing its ſtrength, or conſulting any other means but ſpeed for its ſafety. Having attained ſome hill or riſing ground, and left the dogs ſo far behind that it no longer hears their cries, it ſtops, rears on its hinder legs, and at length looks back to ſee if it has not loſt its purſuers. But theſe, having once fallen upon the ſcent, purſue ſlowly and with united ſkill, and the poor animal ſoon again hears the fatal tidings of their approach. Sometimes when ſore hunted it will ſtart a freſh hare, and ſquat in the ſame form; ſometimes it will creep under the door of a ſheep-cot, and hide among the ſheep; ſometimes it will run among them, and no vigilance can drive it from the flock; ſome will enter holes like the rabbit, which the hunters call going to vault; ſome will go up one ſide of the hedge and come down the other; and it has been known that an hare ſorely hunted has got upon the top of a cut quick-ſet hedge, and run a good way thereon, by which it has effectually evaded the hounds. It is no unuſual thing alſo for them to betake themſelves to furz buſhes, and to leap from one to another, by which the dogs are frequently miſled. However, the firſt doubling an hare makes is generally a key to [11] all its future attempts of that kind, the latter being exactly like the former. The young hares tread heavier, and leave a ſtronger ſcent than the old, becauſe their limbs are weaker; and the more this forlorn creature tires, the heavier it treads, and the ſtronger is the ſcent it leaves. A buck, or male hare, is known by its chuſing to run upon hard highways, feeding farther from the wood-ſides and making its doublings of a greater compaſs than the female. The male having made a turn or two about its form, frequently leads the hounds five or ſix miles on a ſtretch; but the female keeps cloſe by ſome covert ſide, turns, croſſes, and winds among the buſhes like a rabbit, and ſeldom runs directly forward. In general, however, both male and female regulate their conduct according to the weather. In a moiſt day they hold by the highways more than at any other time, becauſe the ſcent is then ſtrongeſt upon the graſs. If they come to the ſide of a grove or ſpring they forbear to enter, but ſquat down by the ſide thereof until the hounds have overſhot them; and then, turning along their former path, make to their old form, from which they vainly hope for protection.

Hares are divided, by the hunters, into mountain and meaſled hares. The former are [12] more ſwift, vigorous, and have their fleſh better taſted; the latter chiefly frequent the marſhes, when hunted keep among low grounds, and their fleſh is moiſt, white, and flabby. When the male and female keep one particular ſpot, they will not ſuffer any ſtrange hare to make its form in the ſame quarter, ſo that it is uſually ſaid that the more you hunt the more hares you ſhall have; for, having killed one hare, others come and take poſſeſſion of its form. Many of theſe animals are found to live in woods and thickets, but they are naturally fonder of the open country, and are conſtrained only by fear to take ſhelter in places that afford them neither a warm ſun nor an agreeable paſture. They are therefore, uſually ſeen ſtealing out of the edges of the wood to taſte the graſs that grows ſhorter and ſweeter in the open fields than under the ſhade of the trees; however, they ſeldom miſs of being purſued; and every excurſion is a new adventure. They are ſhot at by poachers; traced by their footſteps in the ſnow; caught in ſprings; dogs, birds, and cats, are all combined againſt them; ants, ſnakes, and adders, drive them from their forms, eſpecially in ſummer; even fleas, from which moſt other animals are free, perſecute this poor creature; and, ſo various are its enemies, that it is ſeldom permitted [13] to reach even that ſhort term to which it is limited by nature.

The ſoil and climate have their influence upon this animal as well as on moſt others. In the countries bordering on the north pole, they become white in winter, and are often ſeen in great troops of four or five hundred, running along the banks of the river Irtiſh, or the Jeniſca, and as white as the ſnow they tread on. They are caught in toils for the ſake of their ſkins, which on the ſpot are ſold for leſs than ſeven ſhillings an hundred. Their fur is well known to form a conſiderable article in the hat manufacture; and we accordingly import vaſt quantities of it from thoſe countries where the hare abounds in ſuch plenty. They are found alſo entirely black, but theſe in much leſs quantity than the former*; and even ſome have been ſeen with horns, though theſe but rarely.

The hares of the hot countries, particularly in Italy, Spain, and Barbary, are ſmaller than ours: thoſe bred in the Milaneſe country are ſaid to be the beſt in Europe. There is ſcarce a country where this animal is not to be found, from the torrid zone to the neighbourhood of the polar circle. The natives of Guinea [14] knock them on the head as they come down to the ſides of the rivers to drink. They alſo ſurround the place where they are ſeen in numbers, and clattering a ſhort ſtick, which every man carries, againſt that which the perſon next him carries, they diminiſh their circle gradually, till the hares are cooped up in the midſt. They then all together throw their ſticks in among them, and with ſuch deadly force, that they ſeldom fail of killing great numbers at a time*.

The fleſh of this animal has been eſteemed as a delicacy among ſome nations, and is held in deteſtation by others. The Jews, the ancient Britains, and the Mahometans, all conſidered it as an unclean animal, and religiouſly abſtained from it. On the contrary, there are ſcarce any other people, however barbarous, at preſent, that do not conſider it as the moſt agreeable food. Faſhion ſeems to preſide and govern all the ſenſes; what mankind at one time conſider as beautiful, fragrant, or ſavoury, may at another time, or among another nation, be regarded as deformed, diſguſtful, or ill taſted. That fleſh which the ancient Romans ſo much admired as to call it the food of the wiſe, was, among the Jews and the Druids, thought unfit to be eaten; and even the moderns, [15] who like the Romans conſider the fleſh of this animal as a delicacy, have very different ideas as to dreſſing it. With us it is ſimply ſerv'd up without any ſeaſoning; but Apicius ſhews us the manner of dreſſing an hare in true Roman taſte, with parſley, rice, vinegar, cummin ſeed, and coriander*.

THE RABBIT.

THE Hare and the Rabbit, though ſo very nearly reſembling each other in form and diſpoſition, are yet diſtinct kinds, as they refuſe to mix with each other. Mr. Buffon bred up ſeveral of both kinds in the ſame place; but from being at firſt indifferent, they ſoon became enemies; and their combats were generally continued until one of them was diſabled or deſtroyed. However, though theſe experiments were not attended with ſucceſs, I am aſſured that nothing is more frequent than an animal bred between theſe two, which, like all other mules, is marked with ſterility. Nay, it has been actually known that the rabbit couples with animals of a much more diſtant nature; and there is at preſent in the Muſeum at Bruſſels, a creature covered with feathers and hair, and ſaid to be bred between a rabbit and an hen.

[16]The fecundity of the rabbit is ſtill greater than that of the hare; and if we ſhould calculate the produce from a ſingle pair, in one year, the number would be amazing. They breed ſeven times in a year, and bring eight young ones each time. On a ſuppoſition, therefore, that this happens regularly, at the end of four years, a couple of rabbits ſhall ſee a progeny of almoſt a million and an half. From hence we might juſtly apprehend being overſtocked by their encreaſe; but, happily for mankind, their enemies are numerous, and their nature inoffenſive; ſo that their deſtruction bears a near proportion to their fertility.

But although their numbers be diminiſhed by every beaſt and bird of prey, and ſtill more by man himſelf, yet there is no danger of their extirpation. The hare is a poor defenceleſs animal, that has nothing but its ſwiftneſs to depend on for ſafety; its numbers are, therefore, every day decreaſing; and in countries that are well peopled, the ſpecies are ſo much kept under, that laws are made for their preſervation. Still, however, it is moſt likely that they will be at laſt totally deſtroyed; and, like the wolf or the elk in ſome countries, be only kept in remembrance. But it is otherwiſe with the rabbit, its fecundity being greater, and its means of ſafety more certain. [17] The hare ſeems to have more various arts and inſtincts to eſcape its purſuers, by doubling, ſquatting, and winding; the rabbit has but one art of defence alone, but in that one finds ſafety; by making itſelf a hole, where it continues a great part of the day, and breeds up its young; there it continues ſecure from the fox, the hound, the kite, and every other enemy.

Nevertheleſs, though this retreat be ſafe and convenient, the rabbit does not ſeem to be naturally fond of keeping there. It loves the ſunny field and the open paſture; it ſeems to be a chilly animal, and diſlikes the coldneſs of its under-ground habitation. It is, therefore, continually out, when it does not fear diſturbance; and the female often brings forth her young, at a diſtance from the warren, in an hole, not above a foot deep at the moſt. There ſhe ſuckles them for about a month; covering them over with moſs and graſs, whenever ſhe goes to paſture, and ſcratching them up at her return. It has been ſaid, indeed, that this ſhallow hole without the warren, is made leſt the male ſhould attack and deſtroy her young; but I have ſeen the male himſelf attend the young there, lead them out to feed, and conduct them back upon the return of the dam. This external retreat ſeems a kind of [18] country houſe, at a diſtance from the general habitation; it is uſually made near ſome ſpot of excellent paſture, or in the midſt of a field of ſprouting corn. To this both male and female often retire from the warren; lead their young by night to the food which lies ſo convenient, and, if not diſturbed, continue there till they are perfectly grown up. There they find a greater variety of paſture than near the warren, which is generally eaten bare; and enjoy a warmer ſun, by covering themſelves up in a ſhallower hole. Whenever they are diſturbed, they then forſake their retreat of pleaſure, for one of ſafety; they fly to the warren with their utmoſt ſpeed; and, if the way be ſhort, there is ſcarce any dog, how ſwift ſoever, that can overtake them.

But it does not always happen that theſe animals are poſſeſſed of one of theſe external apartments; they moſt uſually bring forth their young in the warren, but always in a hole, ſeparate from the male. On theſe occaſions, the female digs herſelf an hole*, different from the ordinary one, by being more intricate; at the bottom of which ſhe makes a more ample apartment. This done, ſhe pulls off from her belly a good quantity of her hair, with which ſhe [19] makes a kind of bed for her young. During the two firſt days ſhe never leaves them; and does not ſtir out but to procure nouriſhment, which ſhe takes with the utmoſt diſpatch; in this manner ſuckling her young, for near ſix weeks, until they are ſtrong, and able to go abroad themſelves. During all this time, the male ſeldom viſits their ſeparate apartment; but when they are grown up, ſo as to come to the mouth of the hole, he then ſeems to acknowledge them as his offspring, takes them between his paws, ſmooths their ſkin, and licks their eyes; all of them, one after the other, have an equal ſhare in his careſſes.

In this manner the rabbit, when wild, conſults its pleaſure and its ſafety; but thoſe that are bred up tame, do not take the trouble of digging an hole, conſcious of being already protected. It has alſo been obſerved*, that when people, to make a warren, ſtock it with tame rabbits, theſe animals, having been unaccuſtomed to the art of ſcraping an hole, continue expoſed to the weather, and every other accident, without ever burrowing. Their immediate offspring alſo are equally regardleſs of their ſafety; and it is not till after two or three generations, that theſe animals begin to find [20] the neceſſity and convenience of an aſylum, and practiſe an art which they could only learn from nature.

Rabbits of the domeſtic breed, like all other animals that are under the protection of man, are of various colours; white, brown, black, and mouſe colour. The black are the moſt ſcarce; the brown, white, and mouſe colour, are in greater plenty. Moſt of the wild rabbits are of a brown, and it is the colour which prevails among the ſpecies; for, in every neſt of rabbits, whether the parents be black or white, there are ſome brown ones found of the number. But, in England, there are many warrens ſtocked with the mouſe colour kinds, which ſome ſay came originally from an iſland in the river Humber, and which ſtill continue their original colour, after a great number of ſucceſſive generations. A gentleman*, who bred up tame rabbits for his amuſement, gives the following account of their production. I began, ſays he, by having but one male and female only; the male was entirely white, and the female brown; but, in their poſterity, the number of the brown by far exceeded thoſe of any other colour: there were ſome white, ſome party-coloured, and ſome black. It is ſurprizing [21] how much the deſcendants were obedient and ſubmiſſive to their common parent; he was eaſily diſtinguiſhed from the reſt by his ſuperior whiteneſs; and, however numerous the other males were, this kept them all in ſubjection. Whenever they quarrelled among each other, either for their females or proviſions, as ſoon as he heard the noiſe he ran up to them with all diſpatch, and, upon his appearance, all was inſtantly reduced to peace and order. If he caught any of them in the fact, he inſtantly puniſhed them, as an example to the reſt. Another inſtance of his ſuperiority was, that having accuſtomed them to come to me with the call of a whiſtle, the inſtant this ſignal was given, I ſaw him marſhalling them up, leading them the foremoſt, and then ſuffering them all to file off before him.

The rabbit*, though leſs than the hare, generally lives longer. As theſe animals paſs the greater part of their lives in their burrow, where they continue at eaſe and unmoleſted, they have nothing to prevent the regularity of their health, or the due courſe of their nouriſhment. They are, therefore, generally found fatter than the hare; but their fleſh is, notwithſtanding, much leſs delicate. That of the [22] old ones, in particular, is hard, tough and dry; but it is ſaid, that, in warmer countries, they are better taſted. This may very well be, as the rabbit, though ſo very plenty in Great Britain and Ireland, is, nevertheleſs, a native of the warmer climates; and has been originally imported into theſe kingdoms, from Spain. In that country, and in ſome of the iſlands in the Mediterranean, we are told, that they once multiplied in ſuch numbers as to prove the greateſt nuiſance to the natives. They at firſt demanded military aid to deſtroy them; but ſoon after they called in the aſſiſtance of ferrets, which originally came from Africa, and theſe, with much more eaſe and expedition, contrived to leſſen the calamity. In fact, rabbits are found to love a warm climate, and to be incapable of bearing the cold of the north; ſo that in Sweden they are obliged to be littered in the houſes. It is otherwiſe in all the tropical climates, where they are extremely common, and where they ſeldom burrow, as with us. The Engliſh countries that are moſt noted for theſe animals, are Lincolnſhire, Norfolk, and Cambridgeſhire. They delight in grounds of a ſandy ſoil, which are warmer than thoſe of clay; and which alſo furniſh a ſofter and finer paſture.

[23]The tame rabbits are larger than the wild ones, from their taking more nouriſhment, and uſing leſs exerciſe; but their fleſh is not ſo good, being more inſipid and ſofter. In order to improve it, they are chiefly fed upon bran, and are ſtinted in their water; for, if indulged in too great a plenty of moiſt food, they are apt, as the feeders expreſs it, to grow rotten. The hair or fur is a very uſeful commodity, and is employed in England for ſeveral purpoſes, as well when the ſkin is dreſſed with it on, as when it is pulled off. The ſkins, eſpecially the white, are uſed for lining cloaths, and are conſidered as a cheap imitation of ermine. The ſkin of the male is uſually preferred, as being the moſt laſting, but it is coarſer; that on the belly in either ſex, is the beſt and fineſt. But the chief uſe made of rabbit's fur, is in the manufacture of hats; it is always mixed, in certain proportions, with the fur of the beaver; and it is ſaid to give the latter more ſtrength and conſiſtence.

The Syrian rabbit, like all other animals bred in that country, is remarkable for the length of its hair; it falls along the ſides in wavy wreaths, and is, in ſome places, curled at the end, like wool; it is ſhed once a year in large maſſes; and it often happens that the rabbit, dragging a [24] part of its robe on the ground, appears as if it had got another leg, or a longer tail. There are no rabbits naturally in America; however, thoſe that have been carried from Europe, are found to multiply in the Weſt India iſlands in great abundance. In other parts of that continent, they have animals that in ſome meaſure reſemble the rabbits of Europe; and which moſt European travellers have often called hares or rabbits, as they happened to be large or ſmall. Their giving them even the name will be a ſufficient excuſe for my placing them among animals of the hare kind; although they may differ in many of the moſt eſſential particulars. But before we go to the new continent, we will firſt examine ſuch as bear even a diſtant reſemblance to the hare kind at home.

THE SQUIRREL.

THERE are few readers that are not as well acquainted with the figure of a Squirrel as that of the rabbit; but ſuppoſing it unknown to any, we might give them ſome idea of its form, by comparing it to a rabbit, with ſhorter ears, and a longer tail. The tail, indeed, is alone ſufficient to diſtinguiſh it from all others, as it is extremely long, beautiful and buſhy, [25] ſpreading like a fan, and which, when thrown up behind, covers the whole body. This ſerves the little animal for a double purpoſe; when erected, it ſerves, like an umbrella, as a ſecure protection from the injuries of the heat and cold; and when extended, it is very inſtrumental in promoting theſe vaſt leaps that the ſquirrel takes from tree to tree: nay, ſome aſſert that it anſwers ſtill a third purpoſe, and when the ſquirrel takes water, which it ſometimes does upon a piece of bark, that its tail ſerves it inſtead of a ſail*.

There are few wild animals in which there are ſo many varieties as in the ſquirrel. The common ſquirrel is of the ſize of a ſmall rabbit, and is rather of a more reddiſh brown. The belly and breaſt are white; and the ears beautifully ornamented with long tufts of hair, of a deeper colour than that on the body. The eyes are large, black and lively; the legs are ſhort and muſcular, like thoſe of the rabbit; but the toes longer, and the claws ſharper, ſo as to fit it for climbing. When it eats, or dreſſes itſelf, it ſits erect, like the hare or rabbit, making uſe of its fore legs as hands; and chiefly reſides in trees. The grey Virginian ſquirrel, which Mr. Buffon calls the Petit Gris, is [26] larger than a rabbit, and of a greyiſh colour. Its body and limbs are thicker than thoſe of the common ſquirrel; and its ears are ſhorter, and without tufts at the point. The upper part of the body, and external part of the legs, are of a fine whitiſh grey, with a beautiful red ſtreak on each ſide lengthways. The tail is covered with very long grey hair, variegated with black and white towards the extremity. This variety ſeems to be common to both continents; and in Sweden is ſeen to change colour in winter. The Barbary ſquirrel, of which Mr. Buffon makes three varieties, is of a mixed colour, between red and black. Along the ſides there are white and brown lines, which render this animal very beautiful; but what ſtill adds to its elegance is, that the belly is of a ſky blue, ſurrounded with white. Some of theſe hold up the tail erect; and others throw it forward over their body. The Siberian white ſquirrel is of the ſize of a common ſquirrel. The Carolina black ſquirrel is much bigger than the former, and ſometimes tipt with white at all the extremities. The Braſilian ſquirrel, which Mr. Buffon calls the Coquallin, is a beautiful animal of this kind, and very remarkable for the variety of its colours. Its belly is of a bright yellow; its head and body variegated with white, black, [27] brown and orange colour. It wants the tufts at the extremity of its ears; and does not climb trees, as moſt of the kind are ſeen to do. To this liſt may be added the little ground ſquirrel of Carolina, of a reddiſh colour, and blackiſh ſtripes on each ſide; and, like the former, not delighting in trees. Laſtly, the ſquirrel of New Spain, which is of a deep iron-grey colour, with ſeven longitudinal whitiſh ſtreaks along the ſides of the male, and five along thoſe of the female. As for the flying ſquirrels, they are a diſtinct kind, and ſhall be treated of by themſelves.

Theſe, which I ſuppoſe to be but a few of the numerous varieties of the ſquirrel, ſufficiently ſerve to ſhew how extenſively this animal is diffuſed over all parts of the world. It is not to be ſuppoſed, however, that every variety is capable of ſuſtaining every climate; for few animals are ſo tender, or ſo little able to endure a change of abode, as this. Thoſe bred in the tropical climates, will only live near a warm ſun; while, on the contrary, the ſquirrel of Siberia will ſcarce endure the temperature of ours. Theſe varieties do not only differ in their conſtitutions and colour, but in their diſpoſitions alſo; for while ſome live on the tops of trees, others feed, like rabbits, [28] on vegetables below. Whether any of theſe, ſo variouſly coloured, and ſo differently diſpoſed, would breed among each other, we cannot tell: and ſince, therefore, we are left in uncertainty upon this point, we are at liberty either to conſider each as a diſtinct ſpecies by itſelf; or only a variety, that accident might have originally produced, and that the climate or ſoil might have continued. For my own part, as the original character of the ſquirrel is ſo ſtrongly marked upon them all, I cannot help conſidering them in the latter point of view; rather as the common deſcendants of one parent, than originally formed with ſuch diſtinct ſimilitudes.

The ſquirrel is a beautiful little animal*, which is but half ſavage; and which, from the gentleneſs and innocence of its manners, deſerves our protection. It is neither carnivorous nor hurtful; its uſual food is fruits, nuts and acorns; it is cleanly, nimble, active, and induſtrious; its eyes are ſparkling, and its phyſiognomy marked with meaning. It generally, like the hare and rabbit, ſits up on its hinder legs, and uſes the fore paws as hands; theſe have five claws or toes, as they are called, and one of them is ſeparated from the reſt like a [29] thumb. This animal ſeems to approach the nature of birds, from its lightneſs, and ſurprizing agility on the tops of trees. It ſeldom deſcends to the ground, except in caſe of ſtorms, but jumps from one branch to another; feeds, in ſpring, on the buds and young ſhoots; in ſummer, on the ripening fruits; and particularly the young cones of the pine-tree. In autumn it has an extenſive variety to feaſt upon; the acorn, the philberd, the cheſtnut, and the wilding. This ſeaſon of plenty, however, is not ſpent in idle enjoyment; the provident little animal gathers at that time its proviſions for the winter; and cautiouſly foreſees the ſeaſon when the foreſt ſhall be ſtripped of its leaves and fruitage

Its neſt is generally formed among the large branches of a great tree, where they begin to fork off into ſmall ones. After chuſing the place where the timber begins to decay, and an hollow may the more eaſily be formed, the ſquirrel begins by making a kind of level between the forks; and then bringing moſs, twigs, and dry leaves, it binds them together with great art, ſo as to reſiſt the moſt violent ſtorm. This is covered up on all ſides; and has but a ſingle opening at top, which is juſt large enough to admit the little animal; and [30] this opening is itſelf defended from the weather by a kind of canopy, made in the faſhion of a cone, ſo that it throws off the rain, though never ſo heavy. The neſt thus formed, with a very little opening above, is, nevertheleſs, very commodious and roomy below; ſoft, well knit together, and every way convenient and warm. In this retreat the little animal brings forth its young, ſhelters itſelf from the ſcorching heat of the ſun, which it ſeems to fear, and from the ſtorms and the inclemency of winter, which it is ſtill leſs capable of ſupporting. Its proviſion of nuts and acorns is ſeldom in its neſt, but in the hollows of the tree, laid up carefully together, and never touched but in caſes of neceſſity. Thus one ſingle tree ſerves for a retreat and a ſtore-houſe; and without leaving it during the winter, the ſquirrel poſſeſſes all thoſe enjoyments that its nature is capable of receiving. But it ſometimes happens that its little manſion is attacked by a deadly and powerful foe. The martin goes often in queſt of a retreat for its young, which it is incapable of making for itſelf; for this reaſon it fixes upon the neſt of a ſquirrel, and, with double injuſtice, deſtroys the tenant, and then takes poſſeſſion of the manſion.

However, this is a calamity that but ſeldom [31] happens: and, of all other animals, the ſquirrel leads the moſt frolickſome playful life; being ſurrounded with abundance, and having few enemies to fear. They are in heat early in the ſpring; when, as a modern naturaliſt ſays, it is very diverting to ſee the female feigning an eſcape from the purſuit of two or three males, and to obſerve the various proofs which they give of their agility, which is then exerted in full force. Nature ſeems to have been particular in her formation of theſe animals for propagation: however, they ſeldom bring forth above four or five young at a time; and that but once a year. The time of their geſtation ſeems to be about ſix weeks; they are pregnant in the beginning of April, and bring forth about the middle of May.

The ſquirrel is never found in the open fields, nor yet in copſes or underwoods; it always keeps in the midſt of the talleſt trees, and, as much as poſſible, ſhuns the habitations of men. It is extremely watchful; if the tree in which it reſides be but touched at the bottom, the ſquirrel inſtantly takes the alarm, quits its neſt, at once flies off to another tree, and thus travels, with great eaſe, along the tops of the foreſt, until it finds itſelf perfectly out of danger. In [32] this manner it continues for ſome hours at a diſtance from home, until the alarm be paſt away; and then it returns, by paths that to all quadrupedes but itſelf are utterly impaſſable. Its uſual way of moving is by bounds; theſe it takes from one tree to another, at forty feet diſtance; and if at any time it is obliged to deſcend, it runs up the ſide of the next tree with amazing facility. It has an extremely ſharp piercing note, which moſt uſually expreſſes pain; it has another, more like the purring of a cat, which it employs when pleaſed; at leaſt it appeared ſo in that from whence I have taken a part of this deſcription.

Figure 1. The Squirrel.

The ſquirrel is eaſily tamed, and it is then a very familiar animal. It loves to lie warm, and will often creep into a man's pocket or his boſom. It is uſually kept in a box, and fed with hazle nuts. Some find amuſement in obſerving with what eaſe it bites the nut open and eats the kernel. In ſhort, it is a pleaſing pretty little domeſtic; and its tricks and habitudes may ſerve to entertain a mind unequal to ſtronger operations.

THE FLYING SQUIRREL.

Mr. Ray was juſtly of opinion that the Flying Squirrel might more properly be ſaid to be of the rat kind, becauſe its fur is ſhorter than in other ſquirrels, and its colours alſo more nearly approach the former. However, as mankind have been content to claſs it among the ſquirrels, it is ſcarcely worth making a new diſtinction in its favour. This little animal, which is frequently brought over to England, is leſs than a common ſquirrel and bigger than a field mouſe. Its ſkin is very ſoft, and elegantly adorned with a dark fur in ſome places and light grey in others. []

Figure 2. The Flying Squirrel.

[34] [...] [] [...] [35] It has large prominent black and very ſparkling eyes, ſmall ears, and very ſharp teeth, with which it gnaws any thing quickly. When it does not leap, its tail, which is pretty enough, lies cloſe to its back; but when it takes its ſpring, the tail is moved backwards and forwards from ſide to ſide. It is ſaid to partake ſomewhat of the nature of the ſquirrel, of the rat, and of the dormouſe; but that in which it is diſtinguiſhed from all other animals, is its peculiar conformation for taking thoſe leaps that almoſt look like flying. It is, indeed, amazing to ſee it at one bound dart above an hundred yards, from one tree to another. They are aſſiſted in this ſpring by a very peculiar formation of the ſkin, that extends from the fore-feet to the hinder; ſo that when the animal ſtretches its fore-legs forward and its hind-legs backward, this ſkin is ſpread out between them, ſomewhat like that between the legs of a bat. The ſurface of the body being thus encreaſed, the little animal keeps buoyant in the air until the force of its firſt impulſion is expired, and then it deſcends. This ſkin, when the creature is at reſt, or walking, continues wrinkled up on its ſides; but when its limbs are extended, it forms a kind of web between them of above an inch broad on either ſide, and gives the [36] whole body the appearance of a ſkin floating in the air. In this manner the flying ſquirrel changes place, not like a bird, by repeated ſtrokes of its wings, but rather like a paper kite ſupported by the expanſion of the ſurface of its body; but with this difference, however, that, being naturally heavier than the air, inſtead of mounting it deſcends; and that jump which upon the ground would not be above forty yards, when from an higher tree to a lower may be above an hundred.

This little animal is more common in America than in Europe, but not very commonly to be ſeen in either. It is uſually found, like the ſquirrel, on the tops of trees; but, though better fitted for leaping, it is of a more torpid diſpoſition, and is ſeldom ſeen to exert its powers; ſo that it is often ſeized by the polecat and the martin. It is eaſily tamed, but apt to break away whenever it finds an opportunity. It does not ſeem fond of nuts or almonds, like other ſquirrels, but is chiefly pleaſed with the ſprouts of the birch and the cones of the pine. It is fed in its tame ſtate with bread and fruits; it generally ſleeps by day, and is always moſt active by night. Some naturaliſts gravely caution us not to let it get among our corn fields, where they tell us it will do a great deal of damage, []

Figure 3. The Squirrel in the act of Flying.

[36] [...] [] [...] [37] by cropping the corn as ſoon as it begins to ear*!

THE MARMOUT.

Figure 4. The Marmout.

[37]FROM the deſcription of the ſquirrel and its varieties we proceed to a different tribe of animals, no way indeed reſembling the ſquirrel, but ſtill ſomething like the rabbit and the hare. We are to keep theſe two animals ſtill in view as the center of our compariſon; as objects to which many others may bear ſome ſimilitude, though they but little approach each other. Among the hare kind is the Marmout, which naturaliſts have placed either among the hare kind or the rat kind, as it ſuited their reſpective ſyſtems. In fact, it bears no great reſemblance to either; but of the two it approaches much nearer the hare, as well in the make of its head as in its ſize, in its buſhy tail, and particularly in its chewing the cud, which alone is ſufficient to determine our choice in giving it its preſent ſituation. How it ever came to be degraded into the rat or the mouſe I cannot conceive, for it no way reſembles them in ſize, being near as [] [...] [37] [...] [38] big as an hare; or in its diſpoſition, ſince no animal is more tractable nor more eaſily tamed.

The Marmout is, as was ſaid, almoſt as big as an hare, but it is more corpulent than a cat, and has ſhorter legs. Its head pretty nearly reſembles that of an hare, except that its ears are much ſhorter. It is cloathed all over with very long hair, and a ſhorter fur below. Theſe are of different colours, black and grey. The length of the hair gives the body the appearance of greater corpulence than it really has, and at the ſame time ſhortens the feet ſo that its belly ſeems touching the ground. Its tail is tufted and well furniſhed with hair, and it is carried in a ſtraight direction with its body. It has five claws behind and only four before. Theſe it uſes as the ſquirrel does, to carry its food to its mouth; and it uſually ſits upon its hinder parts to feed in the manner of that little animal.

The marmout is chiefly a native of the Alps; and when taken young is tamed more eaſily than any other wild animal, and almoſt as perfectly as any of thoſe that are domeſtic*. It is readily taught to dance, to wield a cudgel, and to obey the voice of its maſter. Like the cat, it [39] has an antipathy to the dog; and when it becomes familiar to the family, and is ſure of being ſupported by its maſter, it attacks and bites even the largeſt maſtiff. From its ſquat muſcular make, it has great ſtrength joined to great agility. It has four large cutting teeth, like all thoſe of the hare kind, but it uſes them to much more advantage, ſince in this animal they are very formidable weapons of defence. However, it is in general a very inoffenſive animal; and, except its enmity to dogs, ſeems to live in friendſhip with every creature, unleſs when provoked. If not prevented, it is very apt to gnaw the furniture of an houſe, and even to make holes through wooden partitions; from whence, perhaps, it has been compared to the rat. As its legs are very ſhort, and made ſomewhat like thoſe of a bear, it is often ſeen ſitting up, and even walking on its hind legs in like manner; but with the fore-paws, as was ſaid, it uſes to feed itſelf in the manner of a ſquirrel. Like all of the hare kind, it runs much ſwifter up hill than down; it climbs trees with great eaſe, and runs up the clefts of rocks, or the contiguous walls of houſes, with great facility. It is ludicrouſly ſaid that the Savoyards, who are the only chimney-ſweepers of Paris, have learned this [38] [...] [39] [...] [40] art from the marmout, which is bred in the ſame country.

Theſe animals eat indiſcriminately of whatever is preſented to them; fleſh, bread, fruits, herbs, roots, pulſe, and inſects. But they are particularly fond of milk and butter. Although leſs inclined to petty thefts than the cat, yet they always try to ſteal into the dairy, where they lap up the milk like a cat, purring all the while like that animal, as an expreſſion of their being pleaſed. As to the reſt, milk is the only liquor they like. They ſeldom drink water, and refuſe wine. When pleaſed or careſſed, they often yelp like puppies; but when irritated or frighted, they have a piercing note that hurts the ear. They are very cleanly animals, and like the cat retire upon neceſſary occaſions; but their bodies have a diſagreeable ſcent, particularly in the heat of ſummer. This tinctures their fleſh, which, being very fat and firm, would be very good, were not this flavour always found to predominate.

We have hitherto been deſcribing affections in this animal which it has in common with many others; but we now come to one which particularly diſtinguiſhes it from all others of this kind, and, indeed, from every other quadrupede except the bat and the dormouſe. [41] This is its ſleeping during the winter. The marmout, though a native of the higheſt mountains, and where the ſnow is never wholly melted, nevertheleſs ſeems to feel the influence of the cold more than any other, and in a manner has all its faculties chilled up in winter. This extraordinary ſuſpenſion of life and motion for more than half the year, deſerves our wonder, and excites our attention to conſider the manner of ſuch a temporary death, and the ſubſequent revival. But firſt to deſcribe, before we attempt to diſcuſs.

The marmout, uſually at the end of September, or the beginning of October, prepares to fit up its habitation for the winter, from which it is never ſeen to iſſue till about the beginning or the middle of April. This animal's little retreat is made with great precaution, and fitted up with art. It is an hole on the ſide of a mountain, extremely deep, with a ſpacious apartment at the bottom, which is rather longer than it is broad. In this ſeveral marmouts can reſide at the ſame time, without crowding each other, or injuring the air they breathe. The feet and claws of this animal ſeem made for digging; and, in fact, they burrow into the ground with amazing facility, ſcraping up the [42] earth like a rabbit, and throwing back what they have thus looſened behind them. But the form of their hole is ſtill more wonderful; it reſembles the letter Y; the two branches being two openings, which conduct into one channel which terminates in their general apartment that lies at the bottom. As the whole is made on the declivity of a mountain, there is no part of it on a level but the apartment at the end. One of the branches or openings iſſues out, ſloping downwards; and this ſerves as a kind of ſink or drain to the whole family, where they make their excrements, and where the moiſture of the place is drawn away. The other branch, on the contrary, ſlopes upwards, and this ſerves as their door upon which to go out and in. The apartment at the end is very warmly ſtuccoed round with moſs and hay, of both which they make an ample proviſion during the ſummer. As this is a work of great labour, ſo it is undertaken in common; ſome cut the fineſt graſs, others gather it, and others take their turns to drag it into their hole. Upon this occaſion, as we are told, one of them lies on its back, permits the hay to be heaped upon its belly, keeps its paws upright to make greater room; and in this manner, lying ſtill [43] upon its back, it is dragged by the tail, hay and all, to their common retreat. This alſo ſome give as a reaſon for the hair being generally worn away on their backs, as is uſually the caſe; however, a better reaſon for this may be aſſigned, from their continually rooting up holes and paſſing through narrow openings. But, be this as it will, certain it is that they all live together, and work in common to make their habitation as ſnug and convenient as poſſible. In it they paſs three parts of their lives; into it they retire when the ſtorm is high; in it they continue while it rains; there they remain when apprehenſive of danger, and never ſtir out except in fine weather, never going far from home even then. Whenever they venture abroad, one is placed as a centinel, ſitting upon a lofty rock, while the reſt amuſe themſelves in playing along the green fields, or are employed in cutting graſs and making hay for their winter's convenience. Their truſty centinel, when an enemy, a man, a dog, or a bird of prey, approaches, apprizes its companions with a whiſtle, upon which they all make home, the centinel himſelf bringing up the rear.

But it muſt not be ſuppoſed that this hay is deſigned for proviſion; on the contrary, it is [42] [...] [43] [...] [44] always found in as great plenty in their holes at the end as at the beginning of winter; it is only ſought for the convenience of their lodging, and the advantages of their young. As to proviſion, they ſeem kindly apprized by Nature that during the winter that they ſhall not want any, ſo that they make no preparations for food, though ſo diligently employed in fitting up their abode. As ſoon as they perceive the firſt approaches of the winter, during which their vital motions are to continue in ſome meaſure ſuſpended, they labour very diligently to cloſe up the two entrances of their habitation, which they effect with ſuch ſolidity, that it is eaſier to dig up the earth any where elſe than where they have cloſed it. At that time they are very fat, and ſome of them are found to weigh above twenty pounds; they continue ſo for even three months more; but by degrees their fleſh begins to waſte, and they are uſually very lean by the end of winter. When their retreat is opened, the whole family is then diſcovered, each rolled into a ball, and covered up under the hay. In this ſtate they ſeem entirely lifeleſs; they may be taken away, and even killed without their teſtifying any great pain; and thoſe who find them in this manner carry them home in order [45] to breed up the young and eat the old ones. A gradual and gentle warmth revives them; but they would die if too ſuddenly brought near the fire, or if their juices were too quickly liquefied.

Strictly ſpeaking, ſays Mr. Buffon, theſe animals cannot be ſaid to ſleep during the winter; it may be called rather a torpor, a ſtagnation of all the faculties*. This torpor is produced by the congelation of their blood, which is naturally much colder than that of all other quadrupedes. The uſual heat of man and other animals is about thirty degrees above congelation; the heat of theſe is not above ten degrees. Their internal heat is ſeldom greater than that of the temperature of the air. This has been often tried by plunging the ball of the thermometer into the body of a living dormouſe, and it never roſe beyond its uſual pitch in air, and ſometimes it ſunk above a degree. It is not ſurprizing, therefore, that theſe animals, whoſe blood is ſo cold naturally, ſhould become torpid, when the external cold is too powerful for the ſmall quantity of heat in their bodies, yet remaining; and this always happens when the thermometer is not more than ten degrees [46] above congelation. This coldneſs Mr. Buffon has experienced in the blood of the bat, the dormouſe, and the hedge-hog, and with great juſtice he extends the analogy to the marmout, which like the reſt is ſeen to ſleep all the winter. This torpid ſtate continues as long as the cauſe which produces it continues; and it is very probable that it might be lengthened out beyond its uſual term, by artificially prolonging the cold; if, for inſtance, the animal were rolled up in wool, and placed in a cold cellar, nearly approaching to, but not quite ſo cold as an ice-houſe, for that would kill them outright, it would remain perhaps a whole year in its ſtate of inſenſibility. However this be, if the heat of the air be above ten degrees, theſe animals are ſeen to revive; and, if it be continued in that degree of temperature, they do not become torpid, but eat and ſleep at proper intervals like all other quadrupedes whatever.

From the above account we may form ſome conception of the ſtate in which theſe animals continue during the winter. As in ſome diſorders where the circulation is extremely languid, the appetite is diminiſhed in proportion, ſo in theſe the blood ſcarcely moving, or only moving in the greater veſſels, they want no [47] nouriſhment to repair what is worn away by its motions. They are ſeen, indeed, by ſlow degrees to become leaner in proportion to the ſlow attrition of their fluids; but this is not perceptible except at the end of ſome months. Man is often known to gather nouriſhment from the ambient air; and theſe alſo may in ſome meaſure be ſupplied in the ſame manner; and, having ſufficient motion in their fluids to keep them from putrefaction, and juſt ſufficient nouriſhment to ſupply the waſte of their languid circulation, they continue rather feebly alive than ſleeping.

Theſe animals produce but once a year, and uſually bring forth but three or four at a time. They grow very faſt, and the extent of their lives is not above nine or ten years; ſo that the ſpecies is neither numerous nor very much diffuſed. They are chiefly found in the Alps, where they ſeem to prefer the brow of the higheſt mountains to the loweſt ranges, and the ſunny ſide to that in the ſhade. The inhabitants of the country where they chiefly reſide, when they obſerve the hole, generally ſtay till winter before they think proper to open it; for if they begin too ſoon, the animal wakes, and, as it has a ſurprizing faculty of digging, [48] makes its hole deeper in proportion as they follow. Such as kill it for food, uſe every art to improve the fleſh, which is ſaid to have a wild taſte and to cauſe vomitings*. They, therefore, take away the fat, which is in great abundance, and ſalt the remainder, drying it ſomewhat in the manner of bacon. Still, however, it is ſaid to be very indifferent eating. This animal is found in Poland under the denomination of the Bobak, entirely reſembling that of the Alps, except that the latter has a toe more upon its fore-feet than the former. It is found alſo in Siberia under the name of the Jevraſka, being rather ſmaller than either of the other two. Laſtly, it is found in Canada by the appellation of the Monax, differing only from the reſt in having a blueiſh ſnout and a longer tail.

THE AGOUTI.

Figure 5. The Agouti.

[50]As this animal differs in form, it differs ſtill more in habitudes and diſpoſition. As it has the hair of an hog, ſo alſo it has its voraciouſneſs*. It eats indiſcriminately of all things; and, when ſatiated, hides the remainder, like the dog or the fox, for a future occaſion. It takes a pleaſure in gnawing and ſpoiling every thing it comes near. When irritated, its hair ſtands erect along the back, and, like the rabbit, it ſtrikes the ground violently with its hind feet. It does not dig an hole in the ground, but burrows in the hollows of trees. Its ordinary food conſiſts of the roots of the country, potatoes and yams, and ſuch fruits as fall from the trees in autumn. It uſes its fore-paws like the ſquirrel, to carry its food to its mouth; and as its hind feet are longer than the fore, it runs very ſwiftly upon plain ground or up a hill, but upon a deſcent it is in danger of falling. Its ſight is excellent, and its hearing equals that of any other animal; whenever it is whiſtled to it ſtops to hearken. The fleſh of ſuch as are fat and well fed is tolerable food, although it has a peculiar taſte and is a little tough. The French dreſs it like a ſucking pig, as we learn from Mr. Buffon's account; but the Engliſh dreſs it with a pudding in its belly, like an [51] hare. It is hunted by dogs; and whenever it is got into a ſugar ground, where the canes cover the place, it is eaſily overtaken, for it is embarraſſed every ſtep it takes, ſo that a man may eaſily come up with it without any other aſſiſtance. When in the open country, it uſually runs with great ſwiftneſs before the dogs until it gains its retreat, within which it continues to hide, and nothing but filling the hole with ſmoke can force it out. For this purpoſe the hunter burns faggots or ſtraw at the entrance, and conducts the ſmoke in ſuch a manner that it fills the whole cavity. While this is doing, the poor little animal ſeems ſenſible of its danger, and begs for quarter with a moſt plaintive cry, ſeldom quitting its hole till the utmoſt extremity. At laſt, when half ſuffocated, it iſſues out, and truſts once more to its ſpeed for protection. When ſtill forced by the dogs, and incapable of making good a retreat, it turns upon the hunters, and with its hair briſtling like an hog, and ſtanding upon its hind feet, it defends itſelf very obſtinately. Sometimes it bites the legs of thoſe that attempt to take it, and will take out the piece wherever it fixes its teeth*.

Its cry when diſturbed or provoked reſembles [52] that of a ſucking pig. If taken young, it is eaſily tamed, continues to play harmleſsly about the houſe, and goes out and returns of its own accord. In a ſavage ſtate it uſually continues in the woods, and the female generally chuſes the moſt obſcure parts to bring forth her young. She there prepares a bed of leaves and dry graſs, and generally brings forth two at a time. She breeds twice or thrice a year, and carries her young from one place to another, as convenience requires, in the manner of a cat. She generally lodges them when three days old in the hollow of a tree, ſuckling them but for a very ſhort time, for they ſoon come to perfection, and it ſhould conſequently follow that they ſoon grow old.

THE PACA.

Figure 6. The Paca.

The paca does not make uſe of its fore-paws, like the ſquirrel or the agouti, to carry its food to the mouth, but hunts for it on the ground, and roots like an hog. It is generally ſeen along the banks of rivers, and is only to be found in the moiſt and warm countries of South America. It is a very fat animal, and in this reſpect much preferable to the agouti, that is moſt commonly [] [...] [53] [...] [54] found lean. It is eaten, ſkin and all, like a young pig, and is conſidered as a great delicacy. Like the former little animal, it defends itſelf to the laſt extremity, and is very ſeldom taken alive. It is perſecuted not only by man, but by every beaſt and bird of prey, who all watch its motions, and, if it ventures at any diſtance from its hole, are ſure to ſeize it. But although the race of theſe little animals is thus continually deſtroyed, it finds ſome refuge in its hole, from the general combination; and breeds in ſuch numbers, that the diminution is not perceptible.

To theſe animals may be added others, very ſimilar both in form and diſpoſition; each known by its particular name in its native country, but which travellers have been contented to call rabbits or hares; of which we have but indiſtinct notice. The Tapeti, or the Braſilian rabbit, is in ſhape like our Engliſh ones, but is much leſs, being ſaid to be not above twice the ſize of a dormouſe. It is reddiſh on the forehead, and a little whitiſh under the throat. It is remarkable for having no tail; but it has long ears and whiſkers, like our rabbits, and black eyes. It does not burrow, like ours; but lives at large, like the hare.

The Aperea is alſo called by ſome the Braſilian [55] rabbit, being an animal that ſeems to partake of the nature of a rabbit and a rat. The ears are like thoſe of a rat, being ſhort and round; but the other parts are like thoſe of a rabbit, except that it has but three toes on the hinder legs, like the Agouti.

To theſe imperfect ſketches of animals little known, others leſs known might be added; for as Nature becomes more diminutive, her operations are leſs attentively regarded. I ſhall only, therefore, add one animal more to this claſs, and that very well known; I mean the Guinea pig; which Briſſon places among thoſe of the rabbit kind; and as I do not know any other ſet of animals with which it can be ſo well compared, I will take leave to follow his example.

THE GUINEA-PIG.

THE Guinea-Pig is a native of the warmer climates; but has been ſo long rendered domeſtic, and ſo widely diffuſed, that it is now become common in every part of the world. There are few unacquainted with the figure of this little animal; in ſome places it is conſidered as the principal favourite; and is often found [56] even to diſplace the lap-dog. It is leſs than a rabbit, and its legs are ſhorter; they are ſcarce ſeen, except when it moves; and the neck, alſo, is ſo ſhort, that the head ſeems ſtuck upon the ſhoulders. The ears are ſhort, thin and tranſparent; the hair is like that of a ſucking pig, from whence it has taken the name; and it wants even the veſtiges of a tail. In other reſpects, it has ſome ſimilitude to the rabbit. When it moves, its body lengthens like that animal; and when it is at reſt, it gathers up in the ſame manner. Its noſe is formed with the rabbit lip, except that its noſtrils are much farther aſunder. Like all other animals in a domeſtic ſtate, its colours are different; ſome are white, ſome are red, and others both red and white. It differs from the rabbit in the number of its toes, having four toes on the feet before, and but three on thoſe behind. It ſtrokes its head with the fore feet like the rabbit; and, like it, ſits upon the hind feet; for which purpoſe there is a naked callous ſkin on the back part of the legs and feet.

Theſe animals are of all others the moſt helpleſs and inoffenſive*. They are ſcarce poſſeſſed of courage ſufficient to defend themſelves [57] againſt the meaneſt of all quadrupedes, a mouſe. Their only animoſity is exerted againſt each other; for they will often fight very obſtinately; and the ſtronger is often known to deſtroy the weaker. But againſt all other aggreſſors, their only remedy is patience and non-reſiſtance. How, therefore, theſe animals, in a ſavage ſtate, could contrive to protect themſelves, I have not been able to learn; as they want ſtrength, ſwiftneſs, and even the natural inſtinct ſo common to almoſt every other creature.

As to their manner of living among us, they owe their lives entirely to our unceaſing protection. They muſt be conſtantly attended, ſhielded from the exceſſive colds of the winter, and ſecured againſt all other domeſtic animals, which are apt to attack them, from every motive, either of appetite, jealouſy, or experience of their puſillanimous nature. Such indeed is their ſtupidity, that they ſuffer themſelves to be devoured by the cats, without reſiſtance; and, different from all other creatures, the female ſees her young deſtroyed without once attempting to protect them. Their uſual food is bran, parſley, or cabbage leaves; but there is ſcarce a vegetable cultivated in our gardens that they will not gladly devour. The carrottop is a peculiar dainty; as alſo ſallad; and [58] thoſe who would preſerve their healths, would do right to vary their food; for if they be continued on a kind too ſucculent or too dry, the effects are quickly perceived upon their conſtitutions. When fed upon recent vegetables, they ſeldom drink. But it often happens that, conducted by nature, they ſeek dryer food, when the former diſagrees with them. They then gnaw cloaths, paper, or whatever of this kind they meet with; and, on theſe occaſions, they are ſeen to drink like moſt other animals, which they do by lapping. They are chiefly fond of new milk; but, in caſe of neceſſity, are contented with water.

They move pretty much in the manner of rabbits, though not near ſo ſwiftly; and when confined in a room, ſeldom croſs the floor, but generally keep along the wall. The male uſually drives the female on before him, for they never move a-breaſt together; but conſtantly the one ſeems to tread in the footſteps of the preceding. They chiefly ſeek for the darkeſt receſſes, and the moſt intricate retreats; where, if hay be ſpread as a bed for them, they continue to ſleep together, and ſeldom venture out but when they ſuppoſe all interruption removed. On thoſe occaſions they act as rabbits; they ſwiftly move forward from their bed, ſtop at [59] the entrance, liſten, look round, and, if they perceive the ſlighteſt approach of danger, they run back with precipitation. In very cold weather, however, they are more active, and run about in order to keep themſelves warm.

They are a very cleanly animal, and very different from that whoſe name they go by. If the young ones happen to fall into the dirt, or be any other way diſcompoſed, the female takes ſuch an averſion to them that ſhe never permits them to viſit her more. Indeed, her whole employment, as well as that of the male, ſeems to conſiſt in ſmoothing their ſkins, in diſpoſing their hair, and improving its gloſs. The male and female take this office by turns; and when they have thus bruſhed up each other, they then beſtow all their concern upon their young, taking particular care to make their hair lie ſmooth, and biting them if they appear refractory. As they are ſo ſolicitous for elegance themſelves, the place where they are kept, muſt be regularly cleaned, and a new bed of hay provided for them at leaſt every week. Being natives of a warm climate, they are naturally chilly in ours: cleanlineſs, therefore, aſſiſts warmth, and expels moiſture. They may be thus reared, without the aid of any artificial heat; but, in general, there is no keeping [60] them from the fire in winter, if they be once permitted to approach it.

When they go to ſleep, they lie flat on their bellies, pretty much in their uſual poſture; except that they love to have their fore feet higher than their hinder. For this purpoſe, they turn themſelves ſeveral times round before they lie down, to find the moſt convenient ſituation. They ſleep, like the hare, with their eyes half open; and continue extremely watchful, if they ſuſpect danger. The male and female are never ſeen both aſleep at the ſame time; but while he enjoys his repoſe, ſhe remains upon the watch, ſilently continuing to guard him, and her head turned towards the place where he lies. When ſhe ſuppoſes that he has had his turn, ſhe then awakes him with a kind of murmuring noiſe, goes to him, forces him from his bed, and lies down in his place. He then performs the ſame good turn for her; and continues watchful till ſhe alſo has done ſleeping.

Theſe animals are exceedingly ſalacious, and generally are capable of coupling at ſix weeks old. The female never goes with young above five weeks; and uſually brings forth from three to five at a time; and this not without pain. But what is very extraordinary, the female [61] admits the male the very day ſhe has brought forth, and becomes again pregnant; ſo that their multiplication is aſtoniſhing. She ſuckles her young but about twelve or fifteen days; and during that time does not ſeem to know her own; for if the young of any other be brought, though much older, ſhe never drives them away, but ſuffers them even to drain her, to the diſadvantage of her own immediate offspring. They are produced with the eyes open, like all others of the hare kind; and in about twelve hours, equal even to the dam in agility. Although the dam has but two teats, yet ſhe abundantly ſupplies them with milk: and they are alſo capable of feeding upon vegetables, almoſt from the very beginning. If the young ones are permitted to continue together, the ſtronger, as in all other ſocieties, ſoon begins to govern the weak. Their contentions are often long and obſtinate; and their jealouſies very apparent. Their diſputes are uſually for the warmeſt place, or the moſt agreeable food. If one of them happens to be more fortunate in this reſpect than the reſt, the ſtrongeſt generally comes to diſpoſſeſs it of its advantageous ſituation. Their manner of fighting, though terrible to them, is ridiculous enough to a ſpectator. One of them ſeizes the [62] hair on the nape of the other's neck with its fore teeth, and attempts to tear it away; the other, to retaliate, turns its hinder parts to the enemy, and kicks up behind like an horſe, and with its hinder claws ſcratches the ſides of its adverſary; ſo that ſometimes they cover each other with blood. When they contend in this manner, they gnaſh their teeth pretty loudly; and this is often a denunciation of mutual reſentment.

Figure 7. The Guinea Pig.

CHAP. II. Of Animals of the Rat Kind.

[64]

WERE it neceſſary to diſtinguiſh animals of the rat kind from all others, we might deſcribe them as having two large cutting teeth, like the hare kind, in each jaw; as covered with hair; and as not ruminating. Theſe diſtinctions might ſerve to guide us, had we not too near an acquaintance with this noxious race to be miſtaken in their kind. Their numbers, their minuteneſs, their vicinity, their vaſt multiplication, all ſufficiently contribute to preſs them upon our obſervation, and remind us of their exiſtence. Indeed, if we look through the different ranks of animals, from the largeſt to the ſmalleſt, from the great elephant to the diminutive mouſe, we ſhall find that we ſuffer greater injuries from the contemptible meanneſs of the one, than the formidable invaſions of the other. Againſt the elephant, the rhinoceros, or the lion, we can oppoſe united ſtrength; and by art make up the deficiencies of natural power: theſe we have driven into their native ſolitudes, and obliged to continue at a diſtance, in the moſt inconvenient regions and unhealthful climates. But it is otherwiſe [65] with the little teizing race I am now deſcribing: no force can be exerted againſt their unreſiſting timidity; no arts can diminiſh their amazing propagation: millions may be at once deſtroyed, and yet the breach be repaired in the ſpace of a very few weeks; and, in proportion as Nature has denied them force, it has ſupplied the defect by their fecundity.

Of theſe, the animal beſt known at preſent, and in every reſpect the moſt miſchievous, is the Great Rat; which, though but a new comer into this country, has taken too ſecure a poſſeſſion to be ever removed. This hateful and rapacious creature, though ſometimes called the Rat of Norway, is utterly unknown in all the northern countries, and, by the beſt accounts I can learn, comes originally from the Levant. Its firſt arrival, as I am aſſured, was upon the coaſts of Ireland, in thoſe ſhips that traded in proviſions to Gibraltar; and perhaps we owe to a ſingle pair of theſe animals, the numerous progeny that now infeſts the whole extent of the Britiſh Empire.

This animal, which is called by Mr. Buffon the Surmalot, is in length about nine inches; its eyes are large and black; the colour of the head, and the whole upper part of the body, is of a light brown, mixed with tawny and aſh colour. The [66] end of the noſe, the throat and belly, are of a dirty white, inclining to a grey; the feet and legs are almoſt bare, and of a dirty pale fleſh colour; the tail is as long as the body, covered with minute duſky ſcales, mixed with a few hairs, and adds to the general deformity of its deteſtable figure. It is chiefly in the colour that this animal differs from the Black Rat, or the Common Rat, as it was once called; but now common no longer. This new invader, in a very few years after its arrival, found means to deſtroy almoſt the whole ſpecies, and to poſſeſs itſelf of their retreats.

But it was not againſt the Black Rat alone that its rapacity was directed; all other animals of inferior ſtrength ſhared the ſame misfortunes. The conteſt with the black rat was of ſhort continuance. As it was unable to contend, and had no holes to fly to for retreat, but where its voracious enemy could purſue, the whole race was ſoon extinguiſhed. The Frog alſo was an animal equally incapable of combat or defence. It had been deſignedly introduced into the kingdom of Ireland ſome years before the Norway rat; and it was ſeen to multiply amazingly. The inhabitants were pleaſed with the propagation of an harmleſs animal, that ſerved to rid their fields of inſects; and even [67] the prejudices of the people were in its favour, as they ſuppoſed that the frog contributed to render their waters more wholeſome. But the Norway rat ſoon put a ſtop to their encreaſe; as theſe animals were of an amphibious nature, they purſued the frog to its lakes and took it even in its own natural element. I am, therefore, aſſured, that the frog is once more almoſt extinct in that kingdom; and that the Norway rat, having no more enemies left there to deſtroy, is grown leſs numerous alſo.

We are not likely, therefore, to gain by the deſtruction of our old domeſtics, ſince they are replaced by ſuch miſchievous ſucceſſors. The Norway rat has the ſame diſpoſition to injure us, with much greater power of miſchief. It burrows in the banks of rivers, ponds, and ditches; and is every year known to do incredible damage to thoſe mounds that are raiſed to conduct ſtreams, or to prevent rivers from overflowing. In theſe holes, which it forms pretty near the edge of the water, it chiefly reſides during the ſummer, where it lives upon ſmall animals, fiſh, and corn. At the approach of winter, it comes nearer the farm houſes; burrows in their corn, eats much, and damages ſtill more than it conſumes. But nothing that can be eaten, ſeems to eſcape its [68] voracity. It deſtroys rabbits, poultry, and all kinds of game; and, like the polecat, kills much more than it can carry away. It ſwims with great eaſe, dives with great celerity, and eaſily thins the fiſh pond. In ſhort, ſcarce any of the feebler animals eſcape its rapacity, except the mouſe, which ſhelters itſelf in its little hole, where the Norway rat is too big to follow.

Theſe animals frequently produce from fifteen to thirty at a time*; and uſually bring forth three times a year. This great encreaſe would quickly be found to overrun the whole country, and render our aſſiduity to deſtroy them fruitleſs, were it not, happily for us, that they eat and deſtroy each other. The ſame inſatiable appetite that impels them to indiſcriminate carnage, alſo incites the ſtrongeſt to devour the weakeſt, even of their own kind. The large male rat generally keeps in an hole by itſelf, and is as dreaded by its own ſpecies, as the moſt formidable enemies. In this manner the number of theſe vermin is kept within due bounds; and when their encreaſe becomes injurious to us, it is repreſſed by their own rapacity.

[69]But beſide their own enmities among each other, all the ſtronger carnivorous quadrupedes have natural antipathies againſt them. The dog, though he deteſts their fleſh, yet openly declares his alacrity to purſue them; and attacks them with great animoſity. Such as are trained up to killing theſe vermin, diſpatch them often with a ſingle ſqueeze: but thoſe dogs that ſhew any heſitation, are ſure to come off but indifferently; for the rat always takes the advantage of a moment's delay, and, inſtead of waiting for the attack, becomes the aggreſſor, ſeizing its purſuer by the lip, and inflicting a very painful and dangerous wound. From the inflammation, and other angry ſymptoms that attend this animal's bite, ſome have been led to think that it was in ſome meaſure venemous; but it is likely that the difficulty of the wound's healing, ariſes merely from its being deep and lacerated by the teeth, and is rather a conſequence of the figure of the inſtruments that inflict it, than any venom they may be ſuppoſed to poſſeſs.

The cat is another formidable enemy of this kind; and yet the generality of our cats neither care to attack it, nor to feed upon it when killed. The cat is a more prudent hunter than the dog, and will not be at the pains to take [70] or combat with an enemy that is not likely to repay her time and danger. Some cats, however, will purſue and take the rat; though often not without an obſtinate reſiſtance. If hungry alſo, the cat will ſometimes eat the head; but, in general, ſhe is merely content with her victory.

A foe much more dangerous to theſe vermin is the weaſel. This animal purſues them with avidity; and being pretty nearly of their own ſize, follows them into their holes, where a deſperate combat enſues. The ſtrength of each is pretty near equal; but the arms are very different. The rat, furniſhed with four long tuſks at the extremity of its jaw, rather ſnaps than bites; but the weaſel, where it once faſtens, holds, and continuing alſo to ſuck the blood at the ſame time, weakens its antagoniſt, and always obtains the victory. Mankind have contrived ſeveral other methods of deſtroying theſe noxious intruders; ferrets, traps, and particularly poiſon: but of all other poiſons, I am told that the nux vomica, ground and mixed with meal, is the moſt certain, as it is the leaſt dangerous.

To this ſpecies I will ſubjoin as a variety, the Black Rat, mentioned above, greatly reſembling the former in figure, but very diſtinct in [71] nature, as appears from their mutual antipathy. This animal was formerly as miſchievous as it was common; but at preſent it is almoſt utterly extirpated by the great rat, one malady often expelling another. It is become ſo ſcarce, that I do not remember ever to have ſeen one. It is ſaid to be poſſeſſed of all the voracious and unnatural appetites of the former; though, as it is leſs, they may probably be leſs noxious. Its length is about ſeven inches; and the tail is near eight inches long. The colour of the body is of a deep iron grey, bordering upon black, except the belly, which is of a dirty cinereous hue. They have propagated in America in great numbers, being originally introduced from Europe; and as they ſeem to keep their ground wherever they get footing, they are now become the moſt noxious animals in that part of the world.

To this alſo we may ſubjoin the Black Water Rat, about the ſame ſize with the latter, with a larger head, a blunter noſe, leſs eyes, and ſhorter ears, and the tip of its tail a little white. It was ſuppoſed by Ray to be web footed; but this has been found to be a miſtake, its toes pretty much reſembling thoſe of its kind. It never frequents houſes; but is uſually found on the banks of rivers, ditches and ponds, where [72] it burrows and breeds. It feeds on fiſh, frogs, and inſects; and in ſome countries it is eat on faſting days.

THE MOUSE.

AN animal equally miſchievous, and equally well known with the former, is the mouſe. Timid, cautious and active, all its diſpoſitions are ſimilar to thoſe of the rat, except with fewer powers of doing miſchief*. Fearful by nature, but familiar from neceſſity, it attends upon mankind, and comes an unbidden gueſt to his moſt delicate entertainments. Fear and neceſſity ſeem to regulate all its motions; it never leaves its hole but to ſeek proviſion, and ſeldom ventures above a few paces from home. Different from the rat, it does not go from one houſe to another, unleſs it be forced; and, as it is more eaſily ſatisfied, it does much leſs miſchief.

Almoſt all animals are tamed more difficultly in proportion to the cowardice of their natures. The truly bold and courageous eaſily become familiar, but thoſe that are always fearful are ever ſuſpicious. The mouſe being the moſt feeble, and conſequently the moſt timid of all quadrupedes, except the guinea-pig, is never [73] rendered thoroughly familiar; and, even though fed in a cage, retains its natural apprehenſions. In fact, it is to theſe alone that it owes its ſecurity*. No animal has more enemies, and few ſo incapable of reſiſtance. The owl, the cat, the ſnake, the hawk, the weaſel, and the rat itſelf, deſtroy this ſpecies by millions, and it only ſubſiſts by its amazing fecundity.

The mouſe brings forth at all ſeaſons, and ſeveral times in the year. Its uſual number is from ſix to ten. Theſe in leſs than a fortnight are ſtrong enough to run about and ſhift for themſelves. They are chiefly found in farmers yards and among their corn, but are ſeldom in thoſe ricks that are much infeſted with rats. They generally chuſe the ſouth weſt ſide of the rick, from whence moſt rain is expected; and from thence they often, of an evening, venture ſorth to drink the little drops either of rain or dew that hang at the extremities of the ſtraw. Ariſtotle gives us an idea of their prodigious fecundity, by aſſuring us that, having put a mouſe with young into a veſſel of corn, in ſome time after he found an hundred and twenty mice, all ſprung from one original. The early growth of this animal implies alſo the ſhort duration [74] of its life, which ſeldom laſts above two or three years. This ſpecies is very much diffuſed, being found in almoſt all parts of the ancient continent, and having been exported to the new*. They are animals that, while they fear human ſociety, cloſely attend it; and, although enemies to man, are never found but near thoſe places where he has fixed his habitation. Numberleſs ways have been found for deſtroying them; and Geſner has minutely deſcribed the variety of traps by which they are taken. Our Society for the Encouragement of Arts and Manufactures propoſed a reward for the moſt ingenious contrivance for that purpoſe; and I obſerved almoſt every candidate paſſing off deſcriptions as inventions of his own. I thought it was cruel to detect the plagiariſm, or fruſtrate the humble ambition of thoſe who would be thought the inventors of a mouſe-trap.

To this ſpecies, merely to avoid teizing the reader with a minute deſcription of animals very inconſiderable and very nearly alike, I will add that of the long tail'd field mouſe, which is larger than the former, of a colour very nearly reſembling the Norway rat, and chiefly found in fields and gardens. They are extremely voracious, and hurtful in gardens and young nurſeries, [75] where they are killed in great numbers. However, their fecundity quickly repairs the deſtruction.

Nearly reſembling the former, but larger, (for it is ſix inches long) is the ſhort tailed field mouſe; which, as its name implies, has the tail much ſhorter than the former, it being not above an inch and an half long, and ending in a ſmall tuft. Its colour is more inclining to that of the domeſtic mouſe, the upper part being blackiſh and the under of an aſh colour. This, as well as the former, are remarkable for laying up proviſion againſt winter; and Mr. Buffon aſſures us they ſometimes have a ſtore of above a buſhel at a time.

We may add alſo the ſhrew mouſe to this ſpecies of minute animals, being about the ſize of the domeſtic mouſe, but differing greatly from it in the form of its noſe, which is very long and ſlender. The teeth alſo are of a very ſingular form, and twenty-eight in number; whereas the common number in the rat kind is uſually not above ſixteen. The two upper fore teeth are very ſharp, and on each ſide of them there is a kind of wing or beard, like that of an arrow, ſcarce viſible but on a cloſe inſpection. The other teeth are placed cloſe together, being very ſmall, and ſeeming ſcarce [76] ſeparated; ſo that with reſpect to this part of its formation, the animal has ſome reſemblance to the viper. However, it is a very harmleſs little creature, doing ſcarce any injury. On the contrary, as it lives chiefly in the fields, and feeds more upon inſects than corn, it may be conſidered rather as a friend than an enemy. It has a ſtrong diſagreeable ſmell, ſo that the cat, when it is killed, will refuſe to eat it. It is ſaid to bring four or five young at a time.

THE DORMOUSE.

THESE animals may be diſtinguiſhed into three kinds; the greater dormouſe, which Mr. Buffon calls the Loir; the middle, which he calls the Lerot; the leſs, which he denominates the Muſcardin. They differ from each other in ſize, the largeſt being equal to a rat, the leaſt being no bigger than a mouſe. They all differ from the rat in having the tail tufted with hair, in the manner of a ſquirrel, except that the ſquirrel's tail is flat, reſembling a fan; and theirs round, reſembling a bruſh. The lerot differs from the loir by having two black ſpots near the eyes; the muſcardin differs from both in the whitiſh colour of its hair on [77] the back. They all three agree in having black ſparkling eyes, and the whiſkers partly white and partly black. They agree in their being ſtupefied like the marmout during the winter, and in their hoarding up proviſions to ſerve them in caſe of a temporary revival.

They inhabit woods or very thick hedges, forming their neſts in the hollow of ſome tree, or near the bottom of a cloſe ſhrub, humbly content with continuing at the bottom, and never aſpiring to ſport among the branches. Towards the approach of the cold ſeaſon they form a little magazine of nuts, beans, or acorns; and, having laid in their hoard, ſhut themſelves up with it for the winter. As ſoon as they feel the firſt advances of the cold they prepare to leſſen its effect, by rolling themſelves up in a ball, and thus expoſing the ſmalleſt ſurface to the weather. But it often happens that the warmth of a ſunny day, or an accidental change from cold to heat, thaws their nearly ſtagnant fluids, and they revive. On ſuch occaſions they have their proviſions laid in, and they have not far to ſeek for their ſupport. In this manner they continue uſually aſleep, but ſometimes waking, for above five months in the year, ſeldom venturing from their retreats, and conſequently but rarely ſeen. Their neſts are [78] lined with moſs graſs and dead leaves; they uſually bring forth three or four young at a time, and that but once a year, in the ſpring.

THE MUSK RAT.

OF theſe animals of the rat kind, but with a muſky ſmell, there are alſo three diſtinctions, as of the former; the Ondatra, the Deſman, and the Pilori. The Ondatra is a native of Canada, the Deſman of Lapland, and the Pilori of the Weſt-India iſlands. The ondatra differs from all others of its kind, in having the tail flatted and carried edge-ways. The deſman has a long extended ſnout like the ſhrew mouſe; and the pilori a ſhort tail, as thick at one end as the other. They all reſemble each other in being fond of the water, but particularly in that muſky odour from whence they have taken their name.

Of theſe, the Ondatra is the moſt remarkable, and has been the moſt minutely deſcribed*. This animal is about the ſize of a ſmall rabbit, but has the hair, the colour, and the tail of a rat, except that it is flatted on the ſides, as mentioned above. But it is ſtill more extraordinary upon other accounts, and different from all other animals whatever. It is ſo formed that it can [79] contract and enlarge its body at pleaſure. It has a muſcle like that of horſes, by which they move, their hides lying immediately under the ſkin, and that furniſhed with ſuch a power of contraction, together with ſuch an elaſticity in the falſe ribs, that this animal can creep into an hole where others, ſeemingly much leſs, cannot follow. The female is remarkable alſo for two diſtinct apertures, one for urine, the other for propagation. The male is equally obſervable for a peculiarity of conformation; the muſky ſmell is much ſtronger at one particular ſeaſon of the year than any other; and the marks of the ſex ſeem to appear and diſappear in the ſame manner.

The ondatra in ſome meaſure reſembles the beaver in its nature and diſpoſition. They both live in ſociety during winter; they both form houſes of two feet and an half wide, in which they reſide ſeveral families together. In theſe they do not aſſemble to ſleep as the marmout, but purely to ſhelter themſelves from the rigour of the ſeaſon. However, they do not lay up magazines of proviſion like the beaver; they only form a kind of covert way to and round their dwelling, from whence they iſſue to procure water and roots, upon which they ſubſiſt. During winter their houſes are covered under a depth of eight [80] or ten feet of ſnow; ſo that they muſt lead but a cold, gloomy and a neceſſitous life, during its continuance. During ſummer they ſeparate two by two, and feed upon the variety of roots and vegetables that the ſeaſon offers. They then become extremely fat, and are much ſought after, as well for their fleſh as their ſkins, which are very valuable. They then alſo acquire a very ſtrong ſcent of muſk, ſo pleaſing to an European, but which the ſavages of Canada cannot abide. What we admire as a perfume they conſider as a moſt abominable ſtench, and call one of their rivers, on the banks of which this animal is ſeen to burrow in numbers, by the name of the ſtinking river, as well as the rat itſelf, which is denominated by them the ſtinkard. This is a ſtrange diverſity among mankind; and, perhaps, may be aſcribed to the different kinds of food among different nations. Such as chiefly feed upon rancid oils and putrid fleſh will often miſtake the nature of ſcents; and, having been long uſed to ill ſmells, will by habit conſider them as perfumes. Be this as it will, although theſe nations of northern ſavages conſider the muſk rat as intolerably foetid, they nevertheleſs regard it as very good eating; and, indeed, in this they imitate the epicures of Europe very exactly, whoſe taſte ſeldom reliſhes a diſh till [81] the noſe gives the ſtrongeſt marks of diſapprobation. As to the reſt, this animal a good deal reſembles the beaver in its habits and diſpoſition; but, as its inſtincts are leſs powerful, and its oeconomy leſs exact, I will reſerve for the deſcription of that animal a part of what may be applicable to this.

THE CRICETUS.

THE Cricetus, or German Rat, which Mr. Buffon calls the Hamſter, greatly reſembles the water-rat in its ſize, ſmall eyes, and the ſhortneſs of its tail. It differs in colour, being rather browner, like the Norway rat, with the belly and legs of a dirty yellow. But the marks by which it may be diſtinguiſhed from all others are two pouches, like thoſe of a baboon, on each ſide of its jaw, under the ſkin, into which it can cram a large quantity of proviſion. Theſe bags are oblong, and of the ſize, when filled, of a large walnut. They open into the mouth, and fall back along the neck to the ſhoulder. Into theſe the animal can thruſt the ſurplus of thoſe fruits or grains it gathers in the fields, ſuch as wheat, peas, or acorns. When the immediate calls of hunger are ſatisfied, it then falls to filling theſe; and thus, loaded with two great bunches on each ſide of the jaw, it [82] returns home to its hole to depoſit the ſpoil as a ſtore for the winter. The ſize, the fecundity, and the voraciouſneſs of this animal render it one of the greateſt peſts in the countries where it is found, and every method is made uſe of to deſtroy it.

But, although this animal is very noxious with reſpect to man, yet, conſidered with regard to thoſe inſtincts which conduce to its own ſupport and convenience, it deſerves our admiration*. Its hole offers a very curious object for contemplation, and ſhews a degree of ſkill ſuperior to the reſt of the rat kind. It conſiſts of a variety of apartments, fitted up for the different occaſions of the little inhabitant. It is generally made on an inclining ground, and always has two entrances, one perpendicular and the other oblique; though, if there be more than one in a family, there are as many perpendicular holes as there are individuals below. The perpendicular hole is uſually that through which they go in and out; the oblique ſerves to give a thorough air to keep the retreat clean, and, in caſe one hole is ſtopped, to give an exit at this. Within about a foot of the perpendicular hole the animal makes two more, where are depoſited the family's proviſions. Theſe are [83] Theſe are much more ſpacious than the former, and are large in proportion to the quantity of the ſtore. Beſide theſe, there is ſtill another apartment warmly lined with graſs and ſtraw, where the female brings forth her young; all theſe communicate with each other, and all together take up a ſpace of ten or twelve feet in diameter. Theſe animals furniſh their ſtore-houſes with dry corn well cleaned; they alſo lay in corn in the ear, and beans and peas in the pod. Theſe, when occaſion requires, they afterwards ſeparate, carrying out the pods and empty ears by their oblique paſſage. They uſually begin to lay in at the latter end of Auguſt; and, as each magazine is filled, they carefully cover up the mouth with earth, and that ſo neatly that it is no eaſy matter to diſcover where the earth has been removed. The only means of finding out their retreats are, therefore, to obſerve the oblique entrance, which generally has a ſmall quantity of earth before it; and this, though often ſeveral yards from their perpendicular retreat, leads thoſe who are ſkilled in the ſearch to make the diſcovery. Many German peaſants are known to make a livelihood by finding out and bringing off their [...]oards, which, in a fruitful ſeaſon, often furniſh two buſhels of good grain in each apartment.

[84]Like moſt others of the rat kind, they produce twice or thrice a year, and bring five or ſix at a time. Some years they appear in alarming numbers, at other times they are not ſo plenty. The moiſt ſeaſons aſſiſt their propagation; and it often happens on ſuch years that their devaſtations produce a famine all over the country. Happily, however, for mankind, theſe, like the reſt of their kind, deſtroy each other; and of two that Mr. Buffon kept in a cage, male and female, the latter killed and devoured the former. As to the reſt, their fur is conſidered as very valuable; the natives are invited by rewards to deſtroy them; and the weaſel kind ſeconds the wiſhes of government with great ſucceſs. Although they are uſually found brown on the back and white on the belly, yet many of them are obſerved to be grey, which may probably ariſe from the difference of age.

THE LEMING.

HAVING conſidered various kinds of theſe noxious little animals that elude the indignation of mankind, and ſubſiſt by their number, not their ſtrength, we come to a ſpecies more bold, more dangerous, and more numerous than any of the former. The Leming, which is a native [85] of Scandinavia, is often ſeen to pour down in myriads from the northern mountains, and, like a peſtilence, deſtroy all the productions of the earth. It is deſcribed as being larger than a dormouſe, with a buſhy tail, though ſhorter. It is covered with thin hair of various colours. The extremity of the upper part of the head is black, as are likewiſe the neck and ſhoulders, but the reſt of the body is reddiſh, intermixed with ſmall black ſpots of various figures, as far as the tail, which is not above half an inch long. The eyes are little and black, the ears round and inclining towards the back, the legs before are ſhort, and thoſe behind longer, which gives it a great degree of ſwiftneſs. But what it is much more remarkable for than its figure are, its amazing fecundity and extraordinary migrations.

In wet ſeaſons, all of the rat kind are known to propagate more than in the dry; but this ſpecies in particular is ſo aſſiſted in multiplying by the moiſture of the weather, that the inhabitants of Lapland ſincerely believe that they drop from the clouds, and that the ſame magazines that furniſh hail and ſnow pour the leming alſo upon them. In fact, after long rain, theſe animals ſet forward from their native mountains, and ſeveral millions in a troop deluge the whole [86] plain with their numbers*. They move, for the moſt part, in a ſquare, marching forward by night and lying ſtill by day. Thus, like an animated torrent, they are often ſeen more than a mile broad covering the ground, and that ſo thick that the hindmoſt touches its leader. It is in vain that the poor inhabitant reſiſts or attempts to ſtop their progreſs, they ſtill keep moving forward; and, though thouſands are deſtroyed, myriads are ſeen to ſucceed and make their deſtruction impracticable. They generally move in lines, which are about three feet from each other and exactly parallel. Their march is always directed from the north-weſt to the ſouth-weſt, and regularly conducted from the beginning. Wherever their motions are turned nothing can ſtop them; they go directly forward, impelled by ſome ſtrange power; and, from the time they firſt ſet out, they never once think of retreating. If a lake or a river happens to interrupt their progreſs, they all together take the water and ſwim over it; a fire, a deep well, or a torrent, does not turn them out of their ſtraight lined direction; they boldly plunge into the flames, or leap down the well, and are ſometimes ſeen climbing up on the other ſide. If they are interrupted by a boat acroſs a river [87] while they are ſwimming, they never attempt to ſwim round it, but mount directly up its ſides; and the boat-men, who know how vain reſiſtance in ſuch a caſe would be, calmly ſuffer the living torrent to paſs over, which it does without further damage. If they meet with a ſtack of hay or corn that interrupts their paſſage, inſtead of going over it they gnaw their way through; if they are ſtopped by a houſe in their courſe, if they cannot get through it, they continue there till they die. It is happy, however, for mankind that they eat nothing that is prepared for human ſubſiſtence; they never enter an houſe to deſtroy the proviſions, but are contented with eating every root and vegetable that they meet. If they happen to paſs through a meadow, they deſtroy it in a very ſhort time, and give it an appearance of being burnt up and ſtrewed with aſhes. If they are interrupted in their courſe, and a man ſhould imprudently venture to attack one of them, the little animal is no way intimidated by the diſparity of ſtrength, but furiouſly flies up at its opponent, and, barking ſomewhat like a puppy, wherever it faſtens does not eaſily quit the hold. If at laſt the leader be forced out of its line, which it defends as long as it can, and be ſeparated from the reſt of its kind, it ſets up a plaintive [88] cry different from that of anger, and, as ſome pretend to ſay, gives itſelf a voluntary death, by hanging itſelf on the fork of a tree.

An enemy ſo numerous and deſtructive would quickly render the countries where they appear utterly uninhabitable, did it not fortunately happen that the ſame rapacity that animates them to deſtroy the labours of mankind, at laſt impels them to deſtroy and devour each other*. After committing incredible devaſtations, they are at laſt ſeen to ſeparate into two armies, oppoſed with deadly hatred, along the coaſts of the larger lakes and rivers. The Laplanders, who obſerve them thus drawn up to fight, inſtead of conſidering their mutual animoſities as an happy riddance of the moſt dreadful peſt, form ominous prognoſtics from the manner of their arrangement. They conſider their combats as a preſage of war, and expect an invaſion from the Ruſſians or the Swedes, as the ſides next thoſe kingdoms happen to conquer. The two diviſions, however, continue their engagements and animoſity until one party overcomes the other. From that time they utterly diſappear, nor is it well known what becomes of either the conquerors or the conquered. Some ſuppoſe that they ruſh headlong into the ſea, others that [89] they kill themſelvs, as ſome are found hanging on the forked branches of a tree, and others ſtill that they are deſtroyed by the young ſpring herbage. But the moſt probable opinion is, that, having devoured the vegetable productions of the country, and having nothing more to ſubſiſt on, they then fall to devouring each other; and, having habituated themſelves to that kind of food, continue it. However this be, they are often found dead by thouſands, and their carcaſes have been known to infect the air for ſeveral miles round, ſo as to produce very malignant diſorders. They ſeem alſo to infect the plants they have gnawed, for the cattle often die that afterwards feed in the places where they paſſed.

As to the reſt, the male is larger and more beautifully ſpotted than the female. They are extremely prolific; and what is extraordinary, their breeding does not hinder their march; for ſome of them have been obſerved to carry one young one in their mouth and another on their back. They are greatly preyed upon by the ermine, and, as we are told, even by the reindeer. The Swedes and Norwegians, who live by huſbandry, conſider an invaſion from theſe vermin as a terrible viſitation; but it is very different with reſpect to the Laplanders, who [90] lead a vagrant life, and who, like the lemings themſelves, if their proviſions be deſtroyed in one part of the country, can eaſily retire to another. Theſe are never ſo happy as when an army of lemings come down amongſt them; for then they feaſt upon their fleſh; which though horrid food, and which, though even dogs and cats are known to deteſt, theſe little ſavages eſteem very good eating and devour greedily. They are glad of their arrival alſo upon another account, for they always expect a great plenty of game the year following, among thoſe fields which the lemings have deſtroyed.

THE MOLE.

TO theſe minute animals of the rat kind, a great part of whoſe lives is paſt in holes under ground, I will ſubjoin one little animal more, no way reſembling the rat, except that its whole life is ſpent there. As we have ſeen ſome quadrupedes formed to crop the ſurface of the fields, and others to live upon the tops of trees, ſo the Mole is formed to live wholly under the earth, as if Nature meant that no place ſhould be left wholly untenanted. Were we from our own ſenſations to pronounce upon the life of a quadrupede that was never to appear above ground, but always condemned to [91] hunt for its prey underneath, obliged, whenever It removed from one place to another, to bore its way through a reſiſting body, we ſhould be apt to aſſert that ſuch an exiſtence muſt be the moſt frightful and ſolitary in nature. However, in the preſent animal, though we find it condemned to all thoſe ſeeming inconveniencies, we ſhall diſcover no ſigns of wretchedneſs or diſtreſs. No quadrupede is fatter, none has a more ſleek or gloſſy ſkin; and, though denied many advantages that moſt animals enjoy, it is more liberally poſſeſſed of others, which they have in a more ſcanty proportion.

This animal, ſo well known in England, is, however, utterly a ſtranger in other places, and particularly in Ireland. For ſuch, therefore, as have never ſeen it, a ſhort deſcription will be neceſſary. And, in the firſt place, though ſomewhat of a ſize between the rat and the mouſe, it no way reſembles either, being an animal entirely of a ſingular kind, and perfectly unlike any other quadrupede whatever. It is bigger than a mouſe, with a coat of fine, ſhort, gloſſy, black hair. Its noſe is long and pointed, reſembling that of an hog, but much longer. Its eyes are ſo ſmall that it is ſcarce poſſible to diſcern them. Inſtead of ears it has only holes in the place. Its neck is ſo ſhort that the head [92] ſeems ſtuck upon the ſhoulders. The body is thick and round, terminating by a very ſmall ſhort tail, and its legs alſo are ſo very ſhort that the animal ſeems to lie flat on its belly. From under its belly, as it reſts in this poſition, the four feet appear juſt as if they immediately grew out of the body. Thus the animal appears to us at firſt view as a maſs of fleſh covered with a fine ſhining black ſkin, with a little head, and ſcarce any legs, eyes, or tail. On a cloſer inſpection, however, two little black points may be diſcerned, that are its eyes. The ancients, and ſome of the moderns, were of opinion that the animal was utterly blind; but Derham, by the help of a microſcope, plainly diſcovered all the parts of the eye that are known in other animals, ſuch as the pupil, the vitreous and the chryſtaline humours. The fore-legs appear very ſhort and ſtrong, and furniſhed with five claws to each. Theſe are turned outwards and backwards, as the hands of a man when ſwimming. The hind legs are longer and weaker than the fore, being only uſed to aſſiſt its motions; whereas the others are continually employed in digging. The teeth are like thoſe of a ſhrew-mouſe, and there are five on both ſides of the upper jaw, which ſtand out; but thoſe behind are divided into points. The tongue is as large as the mouth will hold.

[93]Such is the extraordinary figure and formation of this animal; which, if we compare with its manner of living, we ſhall find a manifeſt attention in Nature to adapt the one to the other*. As it is allotted a ſubterraneous abode, the ſeeming defects of its formation vaniſh, or rather are turned to its advantage. The breadth, ſtrength, and ſhortneſs of the fore feet, which are inclined outwards, anſwer the purpoſes of digging, ſerving to throw back the earth with greater eaſe, and to purſue the worms and inſects which are its prey: had they been longer, the falling in of the earth would have prevented the quick repetition of its ſtrokes in working; or have obliged it to make a larger hole, in order to give room for their exertion. The form of the body is not leſs admirably contrived for its way of life. The fore part is thick and very muſcular, giving great ſtrength to the action of the fore feet, enabling it to dig its way with amazing force and rapidity, either to purſue its prey, or elude the ſearch of the moſt active enemy. By its power of boring the earth, it quickly gets below the ſurface; and I have ſeen it, when let looſe in the midſt of a field, like the ghoſt on a theatre, inſtantly ſink into the earth; and the [94] moſt active labourer, with a ſpade, in vain attempted to purſue.

The ſmallneſs of its eyes, which induced the ancients to think it was blind, is, to this aninimal, a peculiar advantage. A ſmall degree of viſion is ſufficient for a creature that is ever deſtined to live in darkneſs. A more extenſive ſight would only have ſerved to ſhew the horrors of its priſon, while Nature had denied it the means of an eſcape. Had this organ been larger, it would have been perpetually liable to injuries, by the falling of the earth into it; but Nature, to prevent that inconvenience, has not only made them very ſmall, but very cloſely covered them with hair. Anatomiſts mention, beſide theſe advantages, another, that contributes to their ſecurity; namely, a certain muſcle, by which the animal can draw back the eye whenever it is neceſſary or in danger.

As the eye is thus perfectly fitted to the animal's ſituation, ſo alſo are the ſenſes of hearing and ſmelling. The firſt gives it notice of the moſt diſtant appearance of danger; the other directs it, in the midſt of darkneſs, to its food. The wants of a ſubterraneous animal can be but few; and theſe are ſufficient to ſupply them: to eat, and to produce its kind, are the whole employments of ſuch a life; and for [95] both theſe purpoſes it is wonderfully adapted by Nature*.

Thus admirably is this animal fitted for a life of darkneſs and ſolitude; with no appetites but what it can eaſily indulge, with no enemies but what it can eaſily evade or conquer. As ſoon as it has once buried itſelf in the earth, it ſeldom ſtirs out, unleſs forced by violent rains in ſummer, or when in purſuit of its prey, it happens to come too near the ſurface, and thus gets into the open air, which may be conſidered as its unnatural element. In general, it chuſes the looſer ſofter grounds, beneath which it can travel with greater eaſe; in ſuch alſo it generally finds the greateſt number of worms and inſects, upon which it chiefly preys. It is obſerved to be moſt active, and to caſt up moſt earth, immediately before rain; and, in winter, before [96] a thaw: at thoſe times the worms and inſects begin to be in motion; and approach the ſurface, whither this induſtrious animal purſues them. On the contrary, in very dry weather, the mole ſeldom or never forms any hillocks; for then it is obliged to penetrate deeper after its prey, which at ſuch ſeaſons retire far into the ground.

Figure 8. The Mole.

The mole is ſcarcely found, except in cultivated countries: the varieties are but few. That which is found in Virginia, reſembles the common mole, except in colour, which is black, mixed with a deep purple. There are ſometimes white moles, ſeen particularly in Poland, rather larger than the former. As their ſkin is ſo very ſoft and beautiful, it is odd that it has not been turned to any advantage. Agricola tells us, that he ſaw hats made from it, the fineſt and the moſt beautiful that could be imagined.

CHAP. III. Of Animals of the Hedge-hog, or prickly Kind.

[99]

ANIMALS of the Hedge-hog kind require but very little accuracy to diſtinguiſh them from all others. That hair which ſerves the generality of quadrupedes for warmth and ornament, is partly wanting in theſe; while its place is ſupplied by ſharp ſpines or prickles, that ſerve for their defence. This general characteriſtic, therefore, makes a much more obvious diſtinction than any that can be taken from their teeth or their claws. Nature, by this extraordinary peculiarity, ſeems to have ſeparated them in a very diſtinguiſhed manner; ſo that, inſtead of claſſing the hedge-hog among the moles, or the porcupine with the hare, as ſome have done, it is much more natural and obvious to place them, and others approaching them in this ſtrange peculiarity, in a claſs by themſelves: nor let it be ſuppoſed, that while I thus alter their arrangement, and ſeparate them from animals with which they have been formerly combined, that I am deſtroying any ſecret affinities that exiſt in nature. It is natural, indeed, for readers to ſuppoſe, when they ſee two [100] ſuch oppoſite animals as the hare and the porcupine aſſembled together in the ſame groupe, that there muſt be ſome material reaſon, ſome ſecret connexion, for thus joining animals ſo little reſembling each other in appearance. But the reaſons for this union were very ſlight, and merely aroſe from a ſimilitude in the fore teeth: no likeneſs in the internal conformation; no ſimilitude in nature, in habitudes, or diſpoſition; in ſhort, nothing to faſten the link that combines them, but the ſimilitude in the teeth: this, therefore, may be eaſily diſpenſed with; and, as was ſaid, it will be moſt proper to claſs them according to their moſt ſtriking ſimilitudes.

The Hedge-hog, with an appearance the moſt formidable, is yet one of the moſt harmleſs animals in the world: unable or unwilling to offend, all its precautions are only directed to its own ſecurity; and it is armed with a thouſand points, to keep off the enemy, but not to invade him. While other creatures truſt to their force, their cunning, or their ſwiftneſs, this animal, deſtitute of all, has but one expedient for ſafety; and from this alone it often finds protection. As ſoon as it perceives itſelf attacked, it withdraws all its vulnerable parts, rolls itſelf into a ball, and preſents nothing but its defenſive thorns to the enemy; thus, while [101] it attempts to injure no other quadrupede, they are equally incapable of injuring it: like thoſe knights, we have ſomewhere read of, who were armed in ſuch a manner, that they could neither conquer others, nor be themſelves overcome.

This animal is of two kinds; one with a noſe like the ſnout of an hog; the other, more ſhort and blunt, like that of a dog. That with the muzzle of a dog is the moſt common, being about ſix inches in length, from the tip of the noſe to the inſertion of the tail. The tail is little more than an inch long; and ſo concealed by the ſpines, as to be ſcarce viſible: the head, back, and ſides, are covered with prickles; the noſe, breaſt, and belly, are covered with fine ſoft hair*; the legs are ſhort, of a duſky colour, and almoſt bare; the toes on each foot are five in number, long and ſeparated; the prickles are about an inch in length, and very ſharp pointed; their lower part is white, the middle black, and the points white: the eyes are ſmall, and placed high in the head; the ears are round, pretty large, and naked; the mouth is ſmall, but well furniſhed with teeth; theſe, however, it only uſes in chewing its food, [102] but neither in attacking or defending itſelf againſt other animals. Its only reliance in caſes of danger, is on its ſpines; the inſtant it perceives an enemy, it puts itſelf into a poſture of defence, and keeps upon its guard until it ſuppoſes the danger over. On ſuch occaſions, it immediately alters its whole appearance: from its uſual form, ſomewhat reſembling a ſmall animal, with a bunch on its back, the animal begins to bend its back, to lay its head upon its breaſt, to ſhut its eyes, to roll down the ſkin of its ſides towards the legs, to draw theſe up, and, laſtly, to tuck them in on every ſide, by drawing the ſkin ſtill cloſer. In this form, which the hedge-hog always puts on when diſturbed, it no way reſembles an animal, but rather a roundiſh maſs of prickles, impervious on every ſide. The ſhape of the animal thus rolled up, ſomewhat reſembles a cheſtnut in the huſk; there being, on one ſide, a kind of flat ſpace, which is that on which the head and legs have been tucked in.

Such is the uſual appearance of the hedge-hog, upon the approach of any danger. Thus rolled up in a lump, it patiently waits till its enemy paſſes by, or is fatigued with fruitleſs attempts to annoy it. The cat, the weaſel, the ferret, and the martin, quickly decline the combat; and the dog himſelf generally ſpends [103] his time in empty menaces, rather than in effectual efforts. Every encreaſe of danger only encreaſes the animal's precautions to keep on its guard; its aſſailant vainly attempts to bite, ſince he thus more frequently feels than inflicts a wound; he ſtands enraged and barking, and rolls it along with his paws; ſtill, however, the hedge-hog patiently ſubmits to every indignity, but continues ſecure; and ſtill more to diſguſt its enemy with the conteſt, ſheds its urine, the ſmell of which is alone ſufficient to ſend him away. In this manner the dog, after barking for ſome time, leaves the hedge-hog where he found him; who perceiving the danger paſt, at length peeps out from its ball, and, if not interrupted, creeps ſlowly to its retreat.

The hedge-hog, like moſt other wild animals, ſleeps by day, and ventures out by night. It generally reſides in ſmall thickets, in hedges, or in ditches covered with buſhes; there it makes an hole of about ſix or eight inches deep, and lies well wrapped up, in moſs, graſs, or leaves. Its food is roots, fruits, worms, and inſects. It is alſo ſaid to ſuck cattle, and hurt their udders; but the ſmallneſs of its mouth will ſerve to clear it from this reproach. It is ſaid alſo to be very hurtful in gardens and orchards, where it will roll itſelf in [104] an heap of fruit, and ſo carry a large quantity away upon its prickles; but this imputation is as ill grounded as the former, ſince the ſpines are ſo diſpoſed, that no fruit will ſtick upon them, even if we ſhould try to fix them on. It rather appears to be a very ſerviceable animal, in ridding our fields of inſects and worms, which are ſo prejudicial to vegetation.

Mr. Buffon, who kept theſe animals tame about his houſe, acquits them of the reproach of being miſchievous in the garden; but then he accuſes them of tricks, of which from the form and habits of this animal one would be never led to ſuſpect them. ‘"I have often," ſays he, "had the female and her young brought me about the beginning of June: they are generally from three to five in number: they are white in the beginning, and only the marks of their ſpines appear: I was willing to rear ſome of them, and accordingly put the dam and her young into a tub, with abundant proviſion beſide them; but the old animal, inſtead of ſuckling her young, devoured them all, one after another. On another occaſion, an hedge-hog that had made its way into the kitchen, diſcovered a little pot, in which there was meat prepared for boiling; the miſchievous animal drew out the meat, and left its excrements in [] Figure 9. The Hedge Hog.Figure 9. Fig. 1. without the Bristles. [104] [...] [] [...] [105] the ſtead. I kept males and females in the ſame apartment, where they lived together but never coupled. I permitted ſeveral of them to go about my garden; they did very little damage, and it was ſcarcely perceivable that they were there: they lived upon the fruits that fell from the trees; they dug the earth into ſhallow holes; they eat catterpillars, beetles, and worms; they were alſo very fond of fleſh, which they devoured boiled or raw."’

They couple in ſpring, and bring forth about the beginning of ſummer. They ſleep during the winter; and what is ſaid of their laying up proviſions for that ſeaſon, is conſequently falſe. They at no time eat much, and can remain very long without any food whatſoever. Their blood is cold, like all other animals that ſleep during the winter. Their fleſh is not good for food; and their ſkins are converted to ſcarce any uſe, except to muzzle calves, to keep them from ſucking.

THE TANREC AND TENDRAC.

Figure 10. The Tanreck.

[105]THE Tanrec and Tendrac, are two little animals, deſcribed by Mr. Buffon, of the hedge-hog kind; but yet ſufficiently different from it, to conſtitute a different ſpecies. Like [] [...] [105] [...] [106] the hedge-hog, they are covered with prickles, though mixed in a greater proportion with hair; but unlike that animal, they do not defend themſelves by rolling up in a ball. Their wanting this laſt property is alone ſufficient to diſtinguiſh them from an animal in which it makes the moſt ſtriking peculiarity: as alſo, that in the Eaſt Indies, where only they are found, the hedge-hog exiſts ſeparately alſo: a manifeſt proof that this animal is not a variety cauſed by the climate.

The Tanrec is much leſs than the hedge-hog*, being about the ſize of a mole, and covered with prickles, like that animal, except that they are ſhorter and ſmaller. The Tendrac is ſtill leſs than the former, and is defended only with prickles upon the head, the neck and the ſhoulders; the reſt being covered with a coarſe hair, reſembling an hog's briſtles. Theſe little animals, whoſe legs are very ſhort, move but ſlowly. They grunt like an hog; and wallow, like it, in the mire. They love to be near water; and ſpend more of their time there than upon land. They are chiefly in creeks and harbours of ſalt water. They multiply in great numbers, make themſelves holes in the ground, and ſleep for ſeveral months. [107] During this torpid ſtate, their hairs (and I ſhould alſo ſuppoſe their prickles) fall; and they are renewed upon their revival. They are uſually very fat; and although their fleſh be inſipid, ſoft, and ſtringy, yet the Indians find it to their taſte, and conſider it as a very great delicacy.

THE PORCUPINE.

Figure 11. The Porcupine

[107]THOSE arms which the hedge-hog poſſeſſes in miniature, the Porcupine has in a more enlarged degree. The ſhort prickles of the hedge-hog are in this animal converted into ſhafts. In the one the ſpines are about an inch long; in the other, a foot. The porcupine is about two feet long, and fifteen inches high. Like the hedge-hog, it appears a maſs of misſhapen fleſh, covered with quills, from ten to fourteen inches long, reſembling the barrel of a gooſe-quill in thickneſs; but tapering and ſharp at both ends. Theſe, whether conſidered ſeparately or together, afford ſufficient ſubject to detain curioſity Each quill is thickeſt in the middle; and inſerted into the animal's ſkin, in the ſame manner as feathers are found to grow upon birds. It is within ſide ſpongy, like the top [] [...] [107] [...] [108] of a gooſe-quill; and of different colours, being white and black alternately, from one end to the other. The biggeſt are often found fifteen inches long, and a quarter of an inch in diameter; extremely ſharp, and capable of inflicting a mortal wound. They ſeem harder than common quills, being difficult to be cut, and ſolid at that end which is not fixed in the ſkin. If we examine them in common, as they grow upon the animal, they appear of two kinds; the one ſuch as I have already deſcribed; the other, long, flexible and ſlender, growing here and there among the former. There is ſtill another ſort of quills, that grow near the tail, white and tranſparent, like writing quills, and that ſeem to be cut ſhort at the end. All theſe quills, of whatſoever kind, incline backwards, like the briſtles of an hog; but when the animal is irritated, they riſe, and ſtand upright, as briſtles are ſeen to do.

Such is the formation of this quadrupede, in thoſe parts in which it differs from moſt others: as to the reſt of its figure, the muzzle bears ſome reſemblance to that of an hare, but black; the legs are very ſhort, and the feet have five toes, both before and behind; and theſe, as well as the belly, the head, and all other parts of the body, are covered with a ſort of ſhort hair, like [109] prickles, there being no part, except the ears and the ſole of the foot, that is free from them: the ears are thinly covered with very fine hair; and are in ſhape like thoſe of mankind: the eyes are ſmall, like thoſe of an hog, being only one third of an inch from one corner to the other. After the ſkin is taken off, there appear a kind of paps on thoſe parts of the body from whence the large quills proceed; theſe are about the ſize of a ſmall pea, each anſwering to as many holes which appear on the outward ſurface of the ſkin, and which are about half an inch deep, like as many hollow pipes, wherein the quills are fixed, as in ſo many ſheaths.

This animal ſeems to partake very much of the nature of the hedge-hog; having this formidable apparatus of arms rather to defend itſelf, than annoy the enemy. There have been, indeed, many naturaliſts who ſuppoſed that it was capable of diſcharging them at its foes, and killing at a great diſtance off. But this opinion has been entirely diſcredited of late; and it is now univerſally believed that its quills remain firmly fixed in the ſkin, and are then only ſhed when the animal moults them, as birds do their feathers. It is true, we are told by Ellis, that a wolf at Hudſon's Bay was found dead, with the quills of a porcupine fixed within its mouth; [110] which might have very well happened, from the voraciouſneſs of the former, and not the reſentment of the latter. That rapacious creature, in the rage of appetite, might have attempted to devour the porcupine, quills and all, and very probably paid the forfeit, by its life. However this be, of all the porcupines that have been brought into Europe, not one was ever ſeen to launch their quills; and yet the irritations they received were ſufficient to have provoked their utmoſt indignation. Of all the porcupines that Doctor Shaw obſerved in Africa, and he ſaw numbers, not one ever attempted to dart its quills; their uſual manner of defence being, to lie on one ſide, and when the enemy approaches very near, by ſuddenly riſing, to wound him with the points on the other.

It is probable, therefore, that the porcupine is ſeldom the aggreſſor; and when attacked by the bolder animals, it only directs its quills ſo as to keep always pointing towards the enemy. Theſe are an ample protection; and, as we are aſſured by Kolben, at ſuch times, even the lion himſelf will not venture to make an attack. From ſuch, therefore, the porcupine can defend itſelf; and chiefly hunts for ſerpents, and all other reptiles, for ſubſiſtence. Travellers univerſally aſſure us that, between the ſerpent and [111] the porcupine there exiſts an irreconcileable enmity, and that they never meet without a mortal engagement*. The porcupine, on theſe occaſions, is ſaid to roll itſelf upon the ſerpent, and thus deſtroy and devour it. This may be true; while what we are informed by Monſieur Sarraſin, of the porcupine of Canada chiefly ſubſiſting on vegetables, may be equally ſo. Thoſe which are brought to this country to be ſhewn, are uſually fed on bread, milk, and fruits; but they will not refuſe meat when it is offered them; and it is probable, they prefer it in a wild ſtate, when it is to be had. The porcupine is alſo known to be extremely hurtful to gardens; and, where it enters, does incredible damage.

The Americans, who hunt this animal, aſſure us, that the porcupine lives from twelve to fifteen years. During the time of coupling, which is in the month of September, the males become very fierce and dangerous, and often are ſeen to deſtroy each other with their teeth. The female goes with young ſeven months, and brings forth but one at a time; this ſhe ſuckles but about a month, and accuſtoms it betimes to live, like herſelf, upon vegetables and the [112] bark of trees; ſhe is very fierce in its defence; but, at other ſeaſons, ſhe is fearful, timid, and harmleſs. The porcupine never attempts to bite, nor any way to injure its purſuers: if hunted by a dog or a wolf, it inſtantly climbs up a tree, and continues there until it has wearied out the patience of its adverſary; the wolf knows by experience how fruitleſs it would be to wait, he therefore leaves the porcupine above, and ſeeks out for a new adventure.

The porcupine does not eſcape ſo well from the Indian hunter, who eagerly purſues it, in order to make embroidery of its quills, and to eat its fleſh. This, as we are commonly told, is very tolerable eating; however, we may expect wretched proviſions when the ſavages are to be our caterers, for they eat every thing that has life. But they are very ingenious with regard to their embroidery: if I underſtand the accounts rightly, they dye the quills of various colours, and then ſplitting them into ſlips, as we ſee in the making of a cane-chair, they embroider, with theſe, their belts, baſkets, and ſeveral other neceſſary pieces of furniture.

As to the reſt, there are many things related concerning this animal that are fabulous; but there are ſtill many circumſtances more, that yet remain to be known. It were curious to [113] enquire whether this animal molts its quills when wild, for it is never ſeen to ſhed them in a domeſtic ſtate; whether it ſleeps all the winter, as we are told by ſome naturaliſts, which we are ſure it does not when brought into our country; and, laſtly, whether its quills can be ſent off with a ſhake; for no leſs a naturaliſt than Reaumur was of that opinion.

All that we can learn of an animal expoſed as a ſhew, or even by its diſſection, is but merely its conformation; and that makes one of the leaſt intereſting parts of its hiſtory. We are naturally led, when preſented with an extraordinary creature, to expect ſomething extraordinary in its way of living, ſomething uncommon, and corſponding with its figure; but of this animal we know little with any preciſion, except what it offers in a ſtate of captivity. In ſuch a ſituation, that which I ſaw, appeared to very little advantage: it was extremely dull and torpid, though very wakeful; and extremely voracious, though very capable of ſuſtaining hunger; as averſe to any attachment, as to being tamed: it was kept in an iron cage, and the touching one of the bars was ſufficient to excite its reſentment, for its quills were inſtantly erected; and the poet was right in his epithet of fretful, for [114] it appeared to me the moſt iraſcible creature upon earth.

The porcupines of America differ very much from that of the ancient continent, which we have been deſcribing; and, ſtrictly ſpeaking, may be conſidered as animals of a different ſpecies: however, from their being covered with quills, we will only add them as varieties of the former, ſince we know very little concerning them, except their difference of figure. They are of two kinds; the one called the Couando; and the other, firſt named by Mr. Buffon, the Urſon: the one a native of the northern parts of America; the other of the ſouth; and both differing from the former, in having long tails, whereas that has a very ſhort one.

The Couando is much leſs than the porcupine; its quills are four times ſhorter, its ſnout more unlike that of an hare; its tail is long enough to catch by the branches of trees, and hold by them. It may be eaſily tamed, and is to be found chiefly in the ſouthern parts of America; yet is not wanting alſo in the northern.

The Urſon, which Mr. Buffon calls after our countryman Hudſon, is a native of Hudſon's Bay. The make of the body of this [115] animal is not ſo round as that of the two former, but ſomewhat reſembling the ſhape of a pig. It is covered with long briſtly hair, with a ſhorter hair underneath; and under this the quills lie concealed very thick; they are white, with a brown point, and bearded, and the longeſt do not exceed four inches; they ſtick to the hand when the animal is ſtroked on the back; and likewiſe, when the hand is taken away, they ſtick ſo faſt as to follow it. They make their neſt under the roots of great trees, ſleep very much, and chiefly feed upon the bark of the juniper. In winter the ſnow ſerves them for drink; and in ſummer they lap water, like a dog. They are very common in the country lying to the eaſt of Hudſon's Bay; and ſeveral of the trading Americans depend on them for food, at ſome ſeaſons of the year.

CHAP. IV. Of Quadrupedes covered with Scales or Shells inſtead of Hair*.

[116]

WHEN we talk of a quadrupede, the name ſeems to imply an animal covered with hair; when we mention a bird, it is natural to conceive a creature covered with feathers; when we hear of a fiſh, its ſcales are generally the firſt part that ſtrikes our imagination. Nature, however, owns none of our diſtinctions; various in all her operations, ſhe mixes her plans, groupes her pictures, and excites our wonder as well by her general laws as by her deviations. Quadrupedes, which we have conſidered as making the firſt general claſs in animated nature, and next to man the moſt dignified tenants of the earth, are yet in many reſpects related to the claſſes beneath them, and do not in every reſpect preſerve their uſual diſtinctions. Their firſt character, which conſiſts in having four feet, is [117] common to the lizard kind as well as to them. The ſecond prerogative, which is that of bringing forth living young, is found in the cetaceous tribe of fiſhes, and alſo in inſects without number. Their third and laſt attribute, which ſeems more general and conſtant than the former, that of being covered with hair, is yet found in various other animals, and is deficient in quadrupedes themſelves. Thus we muſt be cautious of judging of the nature of animals from one ſingle character, which is always found incomplete; for it often happens that three or four of the moſt general characters will not ſuffice. It muſt be by a general enumeration of the parts that we can determine preciſely of the works of the creation; and, inſtead of definitions, learn to deſcribe. Had this method been followed, much of the diſguſt and the intricacy of hiſtory might have been avoided, and that time, which is now employed in combating error, laid out in the promoting of ſcience.

Were we to judge of nature from definitions only, we ſhould never be induced to ſuppoſe that there exiſted races of viviparous quadrupedes deſtitute of hair, and furniſhed with ſcales and ſhells in their ſtead. However, nature, every way various, ſupplies us with many inſtances [118] of theſe extraordinary creatures; the old world has its quadrupedes covered with ſcales, and the new with a ſhell. In both they reſemble each other, as well in the ſtrangeneſs of their appetites as in their aukward conformation. Like animals but partially made up, and partaking of different natures, they want thoſe inſtincts which animals formed but for one element alone are found to poſſeſs. They ſeem to be a kind of ſtrangers in nature, creatures taken from ſome other element, and capriciouſly thrown to find a precarious ſubſiſtence upon land.

Figure 12. The Pangolin.

The Pangolin, which is a native of the torrid climates of the ancient continent, is, of all other animals, the beſt protected from external injury by Nature. It is about three or four feet long, or, taking in the tail, from ſix to eight. Like the lizard, it has a ſmall head, a very long noſe, a ſhort thick neck, a long body, legs very ſhort, and a tail extremely long, thick at the inſertion, and terminating in a point. It has no teeth, but is armed with five toes on each foot, with long white claws. But what it is chiefly diſtinguiſhed by is its ſcaly covering, which in ſome meaſure hides all the proportions of its body. Theſe ſcales defend the animal on all parts, except the under part of the head and neck, under the ſhoulders, the breaſt, the belly, and the inner ſide of the legs; all which parts are covered with a ſmooth ſoft ſkin, without [] [...] [119] [...] [120] hair. Between the ſhells of this animal, at all the interſtices, are ſeen hairs like briſtles, brown at the extremity and yellow towards the root. The ſcales of this extraordinary creature are of different ſizes and different forms, and ſtuck upon the body ſomewhat like the leaves of an artichoak. The largeſt are found near the tail, which is covered with them like the reſt of the body. Theſe are above three inches broad, and about two inches long, thick in the middle and ſharp at the edges, and terminated in a roundiſh point. They are extremely hard, and their ſubſtance reſembles that of horn. They are convex on the outſide and a little concave on the inner; one edge ſticks in the ſkin, while the other laps over that immediately behind it. Thoſe that cover the tail conform to the ſhape of that part, being of a duſky brown colour, and ſo hard, when the animal has acquired its full growth, as to turn a muſquet-ball.

Thus armed, this animal fears nothing from the efforts of all other creatures, except man. The inſtant it perceives the approach of an enemy, it rolls itſelf up like the hedge-hog, and preſents no part but the cutting edges of its ſcales to the aſſailant. Its long tail, which, [121] at firſt view, might be thought eaſily ſeparable, ſerves ſtill more to encreaſe the animal's ſecurity. This is lapped round the reſt of the body, and, being defended with ſhells even more cutting than any other part, the creature continues in perfect ſecurity. Its ſhells are ſo large, ſo thick, and ſo pointed, that they repel every animal of prey; they make a coat of armour that wounds while it reſiſts, and at once protects and threatens. The moſt cruel, the moſt famiſhed quadrupede of the foreſt, the tiger, the panther, and the hyena, make vain attempts to force it. They tread upon, they roll it about, but all to no purpoſe; the pangolin remains ſafe within, while its invader almoſt always feels the reward of its raſhneſs. The fox often deſtroys the hedge-hog by preſſing it with his weight, and thus obliges it to put forth its noſe, which he inſtantly ſeizes, and ſoon after the whole body; but the ſcales of the pangolin effectually ſupport it under any ſuch weight, while nothing that the ſtrongeſt animals are capable of doing can compel it to ſurrender. Man alone ſeems furniſhed with arms to conquer its obſtinacy. The Negroes of Africa, when they find it, beat it to death with clubs, and conſider its fleſh as a very great delicacy.

[122]But, although this animal be ſo formidable in its appearance, there cannot be a more harmleſs inoffenſive creature when unmoleſted. It is even unqualified by Nature to injure larger animals, if it had the diſpoſition, for it has no teeth. It ſhould ſeem that the bony matter, which goes in other animals to ſupply the teeth, is exhauſted in this in ſupplying the ſcales that go to the covering of its body. However this be, its life ſeems correſpondent to its peculiar conformation. Incapable of being carnivorous, ſince it has no teeth, nor of ſubſiſting on vegetables, which require much chewing, it lives entirely upon inſects, for which Nature has fitted it in a very extraordinary manner. As it has a long noſe, ſo it may naturally be ſuppoſed to have a long tongue; but, to encreaſe its length ſtill more, it is doubled in the mouth, ſo that when extended it is ſhot out to above a quarter of a yard beyond the tip of the noſe. This tongue is round, extremely red, and covered with an unctuous and ſlimy liquor, which gives it a ſhining hue. When the pangolin, therefore, approaches an ant hill, for theſe are the inſects on which it chiefly feeds, it lies down near it, concealing as much as poſſible the place of its retreat, and ſtretching out its long tongue [123] among the ants, keeps it for ſome time quite immoveable. Theſe little animals, allured by its appearance, and the unctuous ſubſtance with which it is imeared, inſtantly gather upon it in great numbers; and when the pangolin ſuppoſes a ſufficiency, it quickly withdraws the tongue, and ſwallows them at once. This peculiar manner of hunting for its prey is repeated either till it be ſatisfied, or till the ants, grown more cautious, will be allured to their deſtruction no longer. It is againſt theſe noxious inſects, therefore, that its only force or cunning is exerted; and were the Negroes but ſufficiently ſenſible of its utility in deſtroying one of the greateſt peſts to their country, they would not be ſo eager to kill it. But it is the nature of ſavage man to purſue the immediate good, without being ſolicitous about the more diſtant benefit they remove. They, therefore, hunt this animal, with the utmoſt avidity, for its fleſh; and, as it is ſlow and unable to eſcape in an open place, they ſeldom fail of deſtroying it. However, it chiefly keeps in the moſt obſcure parts of the foreſt, and digs itſelf a retreat in the clefts of rocks, where it brings forth its young, ſo that it is but rarely met with, and continues a ſolitary ſpecies, and an extraordinary inſtance of the varying of Nature.

[124]Of this animal, there is a variety which is called the Phatagin, much leſs than the former, being not above a foot long from the head to the tail, with ſhells differently formed, with its belly, breaſt, and throat covered with hair, inſtead of a ſmooth ſkin as in the former; but that by which it is peculiarly diſtinguiſhed is the extent of its tail, which is above twice the length of its body. Both are found in the warm latitudes of the Eaſt, as well as in Africa; and, as their numbers are but few, it is to be ſuppoſed their fecundity is not great.

THE ARMADILLO OR TATOU.

Figure 13. The Armadillo.

The Armadillo is chiefly an inhabitant of South America; a peaceful harmleſs creature, incapable of offending any other quadrupede, and furniſhed with a peculiar covering for its own defence. The pangolin, deſcribed above, ſeems an inactive helpleſs being, indebted for ſafety more to its patience than its power; but the armadillo is ſtill more expoſed and helpleſs. The pangolin is furniſhed with an armour that wounds while it reſiſts, and that is never attacked with impunity; but the armadillo is obliged to ſubmit to every inſult, without any power of repelling its enemy; it is attacked without danger, and is conſequently liable to more various perſecutions.

This animal being covered, like a tortoiſe, with a ſhell, or rather a number of ſhells, its other proportions are not eaſily diſcerned. It appears, at firſt view, a round miſhapen maſs, with a long head, and a very large tail ſticking out at either end, as if not of a piece with the [126] reſt of the body. It is of different ſizes, from a foot to three feet long, and covered with a ſhell divided into ſeveral pieces, that lap over each other like the plates in a coat of armour, or in the tail of a lobſter. The difference in the ſize of this animal, and alſo the different diſpoſition and number of its plates, have been conſidered as conſtituting ſo many ſpecies, each marked with its own particular name. In all, however, the animal is partially covered with this natural coat of mail; the confirmation of which affords one of the moſt ſtriking curioſities in natural hiſtory. This ſhell, which in every reſpect reſembles a bony ſubſtance, covers the head, the neck, the back, the ſides, the rump, and the tail to the very point. The only parts to which it does not extend are, the throat, the breaſt, and the belly, which are covered with a white ſoft ſkin, ſomewhat reſembling that of a fowl ſtripped of its feathers. If theſe naked parts be obſerved with attention, they will be found covered with the rudiments of ſhells, of the ſame ſubſtance with thoſe which cover the back. The ſkin, even in the parts that are ſofteſt, ſeems to have a tendency to oſſify; but a complete oſſification takes place only on thoſe parts which have the leaſt friction and are the [127] moſt expoſed to the weather. The ſhell, which covers the upper part of the body, differs from that of the tortoiſe, in being compoſed of more pieces than one, which lie in bands over the body, and, as in the tail of the lobſter, ſlide over each other, and are connected by a yellow membrane in the ſame manner. By this means the animal has a motion in its back, and the armour gives way to its neceſſary inflexions. Theſe bands are of various numbers and ſizes, and from them theſe animals have been diſtinguiſhed into various kinds. In general, however, there are two large pieces that cover, one the ſhoulders and the other the rump. In the back, between theſe, the bands are placed in different numbers, that lap over each other, and give play to the whole. Beſides their opening croſs-ways, they alſo open down along the back, ſo that the animal can move in every direction. In ſome there are but three of theſe bands between the large pieces; in others there are ſix; in a third kind there are eight; in a fourth kind, nine; in a fifth kind, twelve; and, laſtly, in the ſixth kind there is but one large piece, which covers the ſhoulders, and the reſt of the body is covered with bands all down to the tail. Theſe ſhells are differently coloured [128] in different kinds, but moſt uſually they are of a dirty grey. This colour in all ariſes from another peculiar circumſtance in their conformation, for the ſhell itſelf is covered with a ſoftiſh ſkin, which is ſmooth and tranſparent.

But, although theſe ſhells might eaſily defend this animal from a feeble enemy, yet they could make but a ſlight reſiſtance againſt a more powerful antagoniſt; Nature, therefore, has given the armadillo the ſame method of protecting itſelf with the hedge-hog or the pangolin. The inſtant it perceives itſelf attacked, it withdraws the head under its ſhells, and lets nothing be ſeen but the tip of the noſe; if the danger encreaſes, the animal's precautions encreaſe in proportion; it then tucks up its feet under its belly, unites its two extremities together, while the tail ſeems as a band to ſtrengthen the connection; and it thus becomes like a ball, a little flattiſh on each ſide. In this poſition it continues obſtinately fixed, while the danger is near, and often long after it is over. In this ſituation it is toſſed about at the pleaſure of every other quadrupede, and very little reſembling a creature endowed with life and motion. Whenever the Indians take it, which is in this form, by laying it cloſe to the [129] fire, they ſoon oblige the poor animal to unfold itſelf, and to face a milder death to eſcape a more ſevere.

This animal is a native only of America, for they were utterly unknown before the diſcovery of that continent. It is an inoffenſive harmleſs creature, unleſs it finds the way into a garden, where it does a great deal of miſchief, by eating the melons, the potatoes, and other vegetables. Although a native of the warmeſt parts of America, yet it bears the cold of our climate without any inconvenience. We have often ſeen them ſhewn among other wild beaſts, which is a ſign they are not difficult to be brought over. Their motion ſeems to be a ſwift walk, but they can neither run, leap, nor climb trees; ſo that, if found in an open place, they have no method of eſcaping from their purſuers. Their only reſource in ſuch an extremity is to make towards their hole as faſt as they can; or, if this be impracticable, to make a new hole before the enemy arrives. For this they require but a very few moments advantage; for the mole itſelf does not burrow ſwifter than they can. For this purpoſe, they are furniſhed with claws extremely large, ſtrong, and crooked, and uſually four upon each foot. They are ſometimes caught by the tail as they [130] are making their way into the earth; but ſuch is their reſiſtance, and ſo difficult it is to draw them backward, that they leave their tail in the hand of their purſuer, and are very well contented to ſave their lives with its loſs. The purſuers, ſenſible of this, never drag the tail with all their force, but hold it while another digs the ground about them, and thus theſe animals are taken alive. The inſtant the armadillo perceives itſelf in the power of its enemies, it has but one laſt reſource, to roll itſelf up, and thus patiently wait whatever tortures they think proper to inflict. The fleſh of the ſmaller kinds is ſaid to be delicate eating; ſo that we may ſuppoſe they receive no mercy. For this reaſon, they are purſued with unceaſing induſtry; and, although they burrow very deep in the earth, there have been many expedients uſed to force them out. The hunters ſometimes contrive to fill the hole with ſmoke, which is often ſucceſsful; they at other times force it by pouring in water. They alſo bring up a ſmall kind of dogs to the chace that quickly overtake them, if at any diſtance from their burrow, and oblige them to roll themſelves up in a ball, in which figure the hunters carry them home. If, however, the armadillo be near a precipice, it often eſcapes by rolling itſelf up, [131] and then tumbling down from rock to rock, without the leaſt danger or inconvenience. They are ſometimes taken in ſnares laid for them by the ſides of rivers and low moiſt places, which they particularly frequent; and this method, in general, ſucceeds better than any of the former, as their burrows are very deep, and they ſeldom ſtir out except in the night. At no time are they found at any great diſtance from their retreats, ſo that it requires ſome patience and ſkill to intercept their retreat.

There are ſcarce any of theſe that do not root the ground, like an hog, in ſearch of ſuch roots as make a principal part of their food. They live alſo upon melons and other ſucculent vegetables, and all will eat fleſh when they can get it. They frequent water and watery places, where they feed upon worms, ſmall fiſh, and water inſects. It is pretended that there is a kind of friendſhip between them and the rattle-ſnake, that they live peaceably and commodiouſly together, and are frequently found in the ſame hole. This, however, may be a friendſhip of neceſſity to the armadillo; the rattle-ſnake takes poſſeſſion of its retreats, which neither are willing to quit while each is incapable of injuring the other.

As to the reſt, theſe animals, though they [132] all reſemble each other in the general character of being cloathed with a ſhell, yet differ a good deal in their ſize, and in the parts into which their ſhell is divided. The firſt of this kind, which has but three bands between the two large pieces that cover the back, is called the Tatu Apara. I will not enter into an exact deſcription of its figure, which, how well written ſoever, no imagination could exactly conceive; and the reader would be more fatigued to underſtand than I to write it. The tail is ſhorter in this than any other kind, being not more than two inches long, while the ſhell, taking all the pieces together, is a foot long and eight inches broad. The ſecond is the Tatou of Ray, or the Encoubert of Buffon; this is diſtinguiſhed from the reſt by ſix bands acroſs the back; it is about the ſize of a pig of a month old, with a ſmall long head and a very long tail. The third is the Tatuette, furniſhed with eight bands, and not by a great deal ſo big as the former. Its tail is longer alſo, and its legs ſhorter in proportion. Its body, from the noſe to the inſertion of the tail, is about ten inches long, and the tail ſeven. The fourth is the Pig-headed Armadillo, with nine bands. This is much larger than the former, being about two foot long from the noſe to the tail. The fifth is the [133] Kabaſſou, or Cataphractus, with twelve bands, and ſtill bigger than the former, or any other of its kind. This is often found above three feet long, but is never eaten as the reſt are. The ſixth is the Weaſel-headed Armadillo, with eighteen bands, with a large piece before, and nothing but bands backward. This is above a foot long, and the tail five inches. Of all theſe, the Kabbaſſou and the Encoubert are the largeſt; the reſt are of a much ſmaller kind. In the larger kinds, the ſhell is much more ſolid than in the others, and the fleſh is much harder and unfit for the table. Theſe are generally ſeen to reſide in dry upland grounds, while the ſmall ſpecies are always found in moiſt places, and in the neighbourhood of brooks and rivers. They all roll themſelves into a ball; but thoſe whoſe bands are feweſt in number are leaſt capable of covering themſelves up completely. The Tatu Apara, for inſtance, when rolled up, preſents two great interſtices between its bands, by which it is very eaſily vulnerable, even by the feebleſt of quadrupedes.

CHAP. V. Of Animals of the Bat Kind.

[134]

HAVING in the laſt chapter deſcribed a race of animals that unite the boundaries between quadrupedes and inſects, I come in this to a very different claſs, that ſerve to fill up the chaſm between quadrupedes and birds. Some naturaliſts, indeed, have found animals of the bat kind ſo much partaking of the nature of both, that they have been at a loſs in which rank to place them, and have doubted, in giving the hiſtory of the Bat, whether it was a beaſt or a bird they were deſcribing. Theſe doubts, however, no longer exiſt; they are now univerſally made to take their place among quadrupedes, to which their bringing forth their young alive, their hair, their teeth, as well as the reſt of their habitudes and conformation, evidently entitle them. Pliny, Geſner, and Aldrovandus, who placed them among birds, did not conſider that they wanted every character of that order of animals, except the power of flying. Indeed, when this animal is ſeen with an aukward and ſtruggling motion, ſupporting itſelf in the air at the duſk of the evening, it preſents in ſome meaſure the [135] appearance of a bird; but naturaliſts, whoſe buſineſs it is to examine it more cloſely, to watch its habitudes, and inſpect into its formation, are inexcuſable for concurring in the miſtake.

The bat in ſcarce any particular reſembles the bird, except in its power of ſuſtaining itſelf in the air. It brings forth its young alive; it ſuckles them; its mouth is furniſhed with teeth; its lungs are formed like thoſe of quadrupedes; its inteſtines, and its ſkeleton, have a complete reſemblance, and even are, in ſome meaſure, ſeen to reſemble thoſe of mankind*.

The bat moſt common in England, is about the ſize of a mouſe; or nearly two inches and an half long. The membranes that are uſually called wings, are, properly ſpeaking, an extenſion of the ſkin all round the body, except the head, which, when the animal flies, is kept ſtretched on every ſide, by the four interior toes of the fore feet, which are enormouſly long, and ſerve like maſts that keep the canvaſs of a ſail ſpread, and regulate its motions. The firſt toe is quite looſe, and ſerves as a heel when the bat walks, or as an hook, when it would adhere to any thing. The hind feet are diſengaged from the ſurrounding ſkin, [136] and divided into five toes, ſomewhat reſembling thoſe of a mouſe. The ſkin by which it flies is of a duſky colour. The body is covered with a ſhort fur, of a mouſe colour, tinged with red. The eyes are very ſmall; the ears like thoſe of a mouſe.

This ſpecies of the bat is very common in England. It makes its firſt appearance early in ſummer, and begins its flight in the duſk of the evening. It principally frequents the ſides of woods, glades, and ſhady walks; and is frequently obſerved to ſkim along the ſurface of pieces of water. It purſues gnats, moths, and nocturnal inſects of every kind. It feeds upon theſe; but will not refuſe meat, wherever it can find it. Its flight is a laborious, irregular movement; and if it happens to be interrupted in its courſe, it cannot readily prepare for a ſecond elevation; ſo that if it ſtrikes againſt any object, and falls to the ground, it is uſually taken. It appears only in the moſt pleaſant evenings, when its prey is generally abroad, and flies in purſuit with its mouth open. At other times it continues in its retreat; the chink of a ruined building, or the hollow of a tree. Thus this little animal, even in ſummer, ſleeps the greateſt part of its time, never venturing out by day-light, nor in rainy [137] weather; never hunting in queſt of prey, but for a ſmall part of the night, and then returning to its hole. But its ſhort life is ſtill more abridged by continuing in a torpid ſtate during the winter. At the approach of the cold ſeaſon, the bat prepares for its ſtate of lifeleſs inactivity, and ſeems rather to chuſe a place where it may continue ſafe from interruption, than where it may be warmly or conveniently lodged. For this reaſon it is uſually ſeen hanging by its hooked claws to the roofs of caves, regardleſs of the eternal damps that ſurround it. The bat ſeems the only animal that will venture to remain in theſe frightful ſubterranean abodes, where it continues in a torpid ſtate, unaffected by every change of the weather. Such of this kind as are not provident enough to procure themſelves a deep retreat, where the cold and heat ſeldom vary, are ſometimes expoſed to great inconveniences, for the weather often becomes ſo mild in the midſt of winter as to warm them prematurely into life, and to allure them from their holes in queſt of food, when Nature has not provided a ſupply. Theſe, therefore, have ſeldom ſtrength to return; but, having exhauſted themſelves in a vain purſuit, after inſects which are not to be found, are deſtroyed by the owl, or any other animal that follows ſuch petty prey.

[138]The bat couples and brings forth in ſummer, generally from two to five at a time: of this I am certain, that I have found five young ones in a hole together; but whether they were the iſſue of one parent, I cannot tell. The female has but two nipples, and thoſe forward on the breaſt, as in the human kind. This was a ſufficient motive for Linnaeus to give it the title of a Primas, to rank it in the ſame order with mankind; and to puſh this contemptible animal among the chiefs of the creation. Such arbitrary aſſociations produce rather ridicule than inſtruction, and render even method contemptible: however, we are to forgive too ſtrong an attachment to ſyſtem in this able naturaliſt, ſince his application to the particular hiſtory of the animal, counterbalances the defect*.

From Linnaeus we learn, that the female makes no neſt for her young, as moſt birds and quadrupedes are known to do. She is barely content with the firſt hole ſhe meets, where ſticking herſelf by her hooks againſt the ſides of her apartment, ſhe permits her young to hang at the nipple, and in this manner to continue for the firſt or ſecond day. When, after ſome time, the dam begins to grow hungry, and finds a neceſſity of ſtirring abroad, ſhe takes her little [139] ones and ſticks them to the wall, in the manner ſhe before hung herſelf; there they immoveably cling, and patiently wait till her return.

Thus far this animal ſeems cloſely allied to the quadrupede race. Its ſimilitude to that of birds is leſs ſtriking. As Nature has furniſhed birds with extremely ſtrong pectoral muſcles, to move the wings, and direct their flight, ſo has it alſo furniſhed this animal. As birds alſo have their legs weak, and unfit for the purpoſes of motion, the bat has its legs faſhioned in the ſame manner, and is never ſeen to walk, or, more properly ſpeaking, to puſh itſelf forward with its hind legs, but in caſes of extreme neceſſity. The toes of the fore legs, or, if we may uſe the expreſſion, its extremely long fingers, extend the web like a membrane that lies between them; and this, which is extremely thin, ſerves to lift the little body into the air: in this manner, by an unceaſing percuſſion, much ſwifter than that of birds, the animal continues, and directs its flight; however, the great labour required in flying, ſoon fatigues it; for, unlike birds, which continue for days together upon the wing, the bat is tired in leſs than an hour, and then returns to its hole, ſatisfied with its ſupply, to enjoy the darkneſs of its retreat.

[140]If we conſider the bat as it is ſeen in our own country, we ſhall find it an harmleſs, inoffenſive creature. It is true that it now and then ſteals into a larder, and, like a mouſe, commits its petty thefts upon the fatteſt parts of the bacon. But this happens ſeldom; the general tenor of its induſtry is employed in purſuing inſects that are much more noxious to us than itſelf can poſſibly be; while its evening flight, and its unſteady wabbling motion, amuſe the imagination, and add one figure more to the pleaſing groupe of animated nature.

The varieties of this animal, eſpecially in our country, are but few; and the differences ſcarce worth enumeration. Naturaliſts mention the Long ear'd Bat, much leſs than that generally ſeen, and with much longer ears; the Horſe ſhoe Bat, with an odd protuberance round its upper lip, ſomewhat in the form of an horſe-ſhoe; the Rhinoceros Bat, with an horn growing from the noſe, ſomewhat ſimilar to that animal from whence it has the name. Theſe, with ſeveral others, whoſe varieties are too numerous, and differences too minute for a detail, are all inoffenſive, minute, and contemptible; incapable, from their ſize, of injuring mankind, and not ſufficiently numerous much to incommode him. But there is a larger race of bats, found in the [141] Eaſt and Weſt-Indies, that are truly formidable; each of theſe is ſingly a dangerous enemy; but when they unite in flocks, they then become dreadful. Were the inhabitants of the African coaſts*, ſays Des Marchais, to eat animals of the bat kind, as they do in the Eaſt-Indies, they would never want a ſupply of proviſions. They are there in ſuch numbers, that, when they fly, they obſcure the ſetting ſun. In the morning, at peep of day, they are ſeen ſticking upon the tops of the trees, and clinging to each other, like bees when they ſwarm, or like large cluſters of coco. The Europeans often amuſe themſelves with ſhooting among this huge maſs of living creatures, and obſerving their embarraſſment when wounded. They ſometimes enter the houſes, and the Negroes are expert at killing them; but although theſe people ſeem for ever hungry, yet they regard the bat with horror, and will not eat it, though ready to ſtarve.

Figure 14. Bats.
Figure 14. Fig. 1. the Great Madagascar Bat.

An animal not ſo formidable, but ſtill more miſchievous than theſe, is the American Vampyre. This is leſs than the former; but more deformed, and ſtill more numerous. It is furniſhed with an horn like the rhinoceros bat; and its ears are extremely long. The other kinds generally reſort to the foreſt, and the moſt deſerted places; but theſe come into towns and cities, and, after ſun-ſet, when they begin to fly, cover the ſtreets like a canopy*. They are the common peſt both of men and animals; they effectually deſtroy the one, and often diſtreſs the other. ‘"They are," ſays Ulloa, "the moſt expert blood-letters in the world. The inhabitants of thoſe warm latitudes being obliged, by the exceſſive heats, to [144] leave open the doors and windows of the chambers where they ſleep, the vampyres enter, and if they find any part of the body expoſed, they never fail to faſten upon it. There they continue to ſuck the blood; and it often happens that the perſon dies under the operation. They inſinuate their tooth into a vein, with all the art of the moſt experienced ſurgeon, continuing to exhauſt the body, until they are ſatiated. I have been aſſured," continues he, "by perſons of the ſtricteſt veracity, that ſuch an accident has happened to them; and that, had they not providentially awaked, their ſleep would have been their paſſage into eternity; having loſt ſo large a quantity of blood as hardly to find ſtrength to bind up the orifice. The reaſon why the puncture is not felt is, beſides the great precaution with which it is made, the gentle refreſhing agitation of the bat's wings, which contribute to encreaſe ſleep, and ſoften the pain."’

The purport of this account has been confirmed by various other travellers; who all agree that this bat is poſſeſſed of a faculty of drawing the blood from perſons ſleeping; and thus often deſtroying them before they awake. But ſtill a very ſtrong difficulty remains [145] to be accounted for; the manner in which they inflict the wound. Ulloa, as has been ſeen, ſuppoſes that it is done by a ſingle tooth; but this we know to be impoſſible, ſince the animal cannot infix one tooth without all the reſt accompanying its motions; the teeth of the bat kind being pretty even, and the mouth but ſmall. Mr. Buffon therefore ſuppoſes the wound to be inflicted by the tongue; which, however, appears to me too large to inflict an unpainful wound; and even leſs qualified for that purpoſe than the teeth. Nor can the tongue, as Mr. Buffon ſeems to ſuppoſe, ſerve for the purpoſes of ſuction, ſince for this it muſt be hollow, like a ſyringe, which it is not found to be. I ſhould therefore ſuppoſe, that the animal is endowed with a ſtrong power of ſuction; and that, without inflicting any wound whatſoever, by continuing to draw, it enlarges the pores of the ſkin in ſuch a manner that the blood at length paſſes, and that more freely the longer the operation is continued; ſo that, at laſt, when the bat goes off, the blood continues to flow. In confirmation of this opinion we are told, that where beaſts have a thick ſkin, this animal cannot injure them; whereas, in horſes, mules, and aſſes, they are very liable [146] to be thus deſtroyed. As to the reſt, theſe animals are conſidered as one of the great peſts of South America; and often prevent the peopling of many parts of that continent: having deſtroyed at Barja, and ſeveral other places, ſuch cattle as were brought there by the miſſionaries, in order to form a ſettlement.

CHAP. VI. Of Amphibious Quadrupedes.

[147]

THE gradations of Nature from one claſs of beings to another are made by imperceptible deviations. As we ſaw in the foregoing chapters quadrupedes almoſt degraded into the inſect tribe, or mounted among the inhabitants of the air, we are at preſent to obſerve their approach to fiſhes, to trace the degrees by which they become more unlike terreſtrial animals, till the ſimilitude of the fiſh prevails over that of the quadrupede.

As in oppoſite armies the two bodies are diſtinct and ſeparated from each other, while yet between them are various troops that plunder on both ſides and are friends to neither, ſo between terreſtrial and aquatic animals there are tribes that can ſcarce be referred to any rank, but lead an amphibious life between them. Sometimes in water, ſometimes on land, they ſeem fitted for each element, and yet completely adapted to neither. Wanting the agility of quadrupedes upon land, and the perſeverance of fiſhes in the deep, the variety of their powers only ſeems to diminiſh their force; and, though poſſeſſed of two different methods of living, [148] they are more inconveniently provided than ſuch as have but one.

All quadrupedes of this kind, though covered with hair in the uſual manner, are furniſhed with membranes between the toes, which aſſiſt their motion in the water. Their paws are broad and their legs ſhort, by which they are more completely fitted for ſwimming, for taking ſhort ſtrokes at a time they make them oftner and with greater rapidity. Some, however, of theſe animals are more adapted to live in the water than others; but, as their power encreaſes to live in the deep, their unfitneſs for living upon land encreaſes in the ſame proportion. Some, like the otter, reſemble quadrupedes in every thing except in being in ſome meaſure web-footed; others depart ſtill further, in being, like the beaver, not only web-footed, but having the tail covered with ſcales, like thoſe of a fiſh. Others depart yet farther, as the ſeal and the morſe, by having the hind feet ſtuck to the body like fins; and others, as the lamentin, almoſt entirely reſemble fiſhes, by having no hind feet whatſoever. Such are the gradations of the amphibious tribe. They all, however, get their living in the water, either by habit or conformation; they all continue a long time under water; they all conſider that element as [149] their proper abode; whenever preſt by danger, they fly to the water for ſecurity; and, when upon land, appear watchful, timorous, and unwieldy.

In the firſt ſtep of the progreſſion from land to amphibious animals, we find the Otter, reſembling thoſe of the terreſtrial kind in ſhape, hair, and internal conformation; reſembling the aquatic tribes in its manner of living, and in having membranes between the toes to aſſiſt it in ſwimming. From this peculiar make of its feet, which are very ſhort, it ſwims even faſter than it runs, and can overtake fiſhes in their own element. The colour of this animal is brown; and it is ſomewhat of the ſhape of an overgrown weaſel, being long, ſlender, and ſoft ſkinned. However, if we examine its figure in detail, we ſhall find it unlike any other animal hitherto deſcribed, and of ſuch a ſhape as words can but weakly convey. Its uſual length is about two feet long, from the tip of the noſe to the inſertion of the tail; the head and noſe are broad and flat; the mouth bears ſome ſimilitude to that of a fiſh; the neck is ſhort, and equal in thickneſs to the head; the body long; the tail broad at the inſertion, but tapering off to a point at the end; the eyes are very ſmall, and placed nearer the noſe than uſual in quadrupedes. [150] The legs are very ſhort, but remarkably ſtrong, broad, and muſcular. The joints are articulated ſo looſely, that the animal is capable of turning them quite back, and bringing them on a line with the body, ſo as to perform the office of fins. Each foot is furniſhed with five toes, connected by ſtrong broad webs like thoſe of water fowl. Thus Nature, in every part, has had attention to the life of an animal whoſe food is fiſh, and whoſe haunts muſt neceſſarily be about water.

Figure 15. The Otter.

The otter has two different methods of fiſhing; the one by catching its prey from the bottom upward, the other by purſuing it into ſome little creek and ſeizing it there. In the former caſe, as this animal has longer lungs than moſt other quadrupedes, upon taking in a quantity of air, it can remain for ſome minutes at the bottom; and whatever fiſh paſſes over at that time is certainly taken; for, as the eyes of fiſh are placed ſo as not to ſee under them, the otter attacks them off their guard from below; and, ſeizing them at once by the belly, drags them on ſhore, where it often leaves them untouched, to continue the purſuit for hours together. The other method is chiefly practiſed in lakes and ponds, where there is no current; the fiſh thus taken are rather of the ſmaller kind, for the great ones will never be driven out of deep water.

In this manner the otter uſually lives during the ſummer, being furniſhed with a ſupply much greater than its conſumption; killing for its amuſement, and infecting the edges of the lake with quantities of dead fiſh, which it leaves there as trophies rather of its victory than its neceſſities. But in winter, when the lakes are [152] frozen over, and the rivers pour with a rapid torrent, the otter is often greatly diſtreſſed for proviſions; and is then obliged to live upon graſs, weeds, and even the bark of trees. It then comes upon land, and, grown courageous from neceſſity, feeds upon terreſtrial animals, rats, inſects, and even ſheep themſelves. Nature, however, has given it the power of continuing a long time without food; and, although during that ſeaſon it is not rendered quite torpid, like the marmout or the dormouſe, yet it keeps much more within its retreat, which is uſually the hollow of a bank worn under by the water. There it often forms a kind of gallery, running for ſeveral yards along the edge of the water; ſo that when attacked at one end, it flies to the other, and often evades the fowler by plunging into the water at forty or fifty paces diſtance, while he expects to find it juſt before him.

We learn from Mr. Buffon that this animal, in France, couples in winter and brings forth in the beginning of ſpring. But it is certainly different with us, for its young are never found till the latter end of ſummer; and I have frequently, when a boy, diſcovered their retreats, and purſued them at that ſeaſon. I am, therefore, more inclined to follow the account given [153] us of this animal by Mr. Lots, of the Academy of Stockholm, who aſſures us that it couples about the middle of ſummer, and brings forth, at the end of nine weeks, generally three or four at a time. This, as well as the generality of his other remarks on this ſubject, agrees ſo exactly with what I remember concerning it, that I will beg leave to take him for my guide, aſſuring the reader that, however extraordinary the account may ſeem, I know it to be certainly true.

In the rivers and the lakes frequented by the otter, the bottom is generally ſtony and uneven, with many trunks of trees, and long roots ſtretching underneath the water*. The ſhore alſo is hollow and ſcooped inward by the waves. Theſe are the places the otter chiefly chuſes for its retreat; and there is ſcarce a ſtone which does not bear the mark of its reſidence, as upon them its excrements are always made. It is chiefly by this mark that its lurking places are known, as well as by the quantity of dead fiſh that are found lying here and there upon the banks of the water. To take the old ones alive is no eaſy taſk, as they are extremely ſtrong, and there are few dogs that will dare to encounter them. They bite with great fierceneſs, [154] and never let go their hold when they have once faſtened. The beſt way, therefore, is to ſhoot them at once, as they never will be thoroughly tamed; and, if kept for the purpoſes of fiſhing, are always apt to take the firſt opportunity of eſcaping. But the young ones may be more eaſily taken, and converted to very uſeful purpoſes. The otter brings forth its young generally under the hollow banks, upon a bed of ruſhes, flags, or ſuch weeds as the place affords it in greateſt quantities. I ſee in the Britiſh Zoology a deſcription of its habitation, where that naturaliſt obſerves, ‘"that it burrows under ground, on the banks of ſome river or lake, and always makes the entrance of its hole under water, then works up to the ſurface of the earth, and there makes a minute orifice for the admiſſion of air; and this little air-hole is often found in the middle of ſome thicket."’ In ſome places this may be true, but I have never obſerved any ſuch contrivance; the retreat, indeed, was always at the edge of the water, but it was only ſheltered by the impending bank, and the otter itſelf ſeemed to have but a ſmall ſhare in its formation. But, be this as it may, the young ones are always found at the edge of the water; and, if under the protection of the dam, ſhe teaches [155] them inſtantly to plunge, like herſelf, into the deep, and eſcape among the ruſhes or weeds that fringe the ſtream. At ſuch times, therefore, it is very difficult to take them; for, though never ſo young they ſwim with great rapidity, and in ſuch a manner that no part of them is ſeen above water, except the tip of the noſe. It is only when the dam is abſent that they can be taken; and in ſome places there are dogs purpoſely trained for diſcovering their retreats. Whenever the dog comes to the place, he ſoon, by his barking, ſhews that the otter is there; which, if there be an old one, inſtantly plunges into the water, and the young all follow. But if the old one be abſent, they continue terrified, and will not venture forth but under her guidance and protection. In this manner they are ſecured and taken home alive, where they are carefully fed with ſmall fiſh and water. In proportion, however, as they gather ſtrength, they have milk mixed among their food, the quantity of their fiſh proviſion is retrenched, and that of vegetables is encreaſed, until at length they are fed wholly upon bread, which perfectly agrees with their conſtitution. The manner of training them up to hunt for fiſh requires not only aſſiduity but patience; however, their activity and uſe, when [156] taught, greatly repays the trouble of teaching; and, perhaps, no other animal is more beneficial to its maſter. The uſual way is, firſt to learn them to fetch as dogs are inſtructed; but, as they have not the ſame docility, ſo it requires more art and experience to teach them. It is uſually performed by accuſtoming them to take a truſs ſtuffed with wool, of the ſhape of a fiſh, and made of leather, in their mouths, and to drop it at the word of command; to run after it when thrown forward, and to bring it to their maſter. From this they proceed to real fiſh, which are thrown dead into the water, and which they are taught to fetch from thence. From the dead they proceed to the live, until at laſt the animal is perfectly inſtructed in the whole art of fiſhing. An otter thus taught is a very valuable animal, and will catch fiſh enough to ſuſtain not only itſelf but a whole family. I have ſeen one of theſe go to a gentleman's pond at the word of command, drive up the fiſh into a corner, and, ſeizing up the largeſt of the whole, bringing it off, in its mouth, to its maſter.

Otters are to be met with in moſt parts of the world, and rather differ in ſize and colour from each other, than in habitudes or conformation*. In North America and Carolina [157] they are uſually found white, inclining to yellow. The Braſilian otter is much larger than ours, with a roundiſh head, almoſt like a cat. The tail is ſhorter, being but five inches long; and the hair is ſoft, ſhort, and black, except on the head, where it is of a dark brown, with a yellowiſh ſpot under the throat.

THE BEAVER.

Figure 16. The Beaver.

[157]IN all countries, as man is civilized and improved, the lower ranks of animals are repreſſed and degraded*. Either reduced to ſervitude, or treated as rebels, all their ſocieties are diſſolved, and all their united talents rendered ineffectual. Their feeble arts quickly diſappear, and nothing remains but their ſolitary inſtincts, or thoſe foreign habitudes which they receive from human education. For this reaſon there remain no traces of their ancient talents and induſtry, except in thoſe countries where man himſelf is a ſtranger; where, unviſited by his controling power, for a long ſucceſſion of ages, their little talents have had time to come to their limited perfection, and their common deſigns have been capable of being united.

The Beaver ſeems to be now the only remaining monument of br [...] [...]ciety. From the reſult [] [...] [157] [...] [158] of its labours, which are ſtill to be ſeen in the remote parts of America, we learn how far inſtinct can be aided by imitation. We from thence perceive to what a degree animals, without language or reaſon, can concur for their mutual advantage, and attain by numbers thoſe advantages which each, in a ſtate of ſolitude, ſeems unfitted to poſſeſs.

If we examine the beaver merely as an individual, and unconnected with others of its kind, we ſhall find many other quadrupedes to exceed it in cunning, and almoſt all in the powers of annoyance and defence. The beaver, when taken from its fellows, and kept in a ſtate of ſolitude or domeſtic tameneſs, appears to be a mild gentle creature, familiar enough, but ſomewhat dull, and even melancholly; without any violent paſſions or vehement appetites, moving but ſeldom, making no efforts to attain any good, except in gnawing the wall of its priſon, in order to regain its freedom; yet this, however, without anger or precipitation, but calm and indifferent to all about, without attachment or antipathies, neither ſeeking to offend nor deſiring to pleaſe. It appears inferior to the dog in thoſe qualities which render animals of ſervice to man; it ſeems made neither to ſerve, to command, or to have connections [159] with any other ſet of beings, and is only adapted for living among its kind. Its talents are entirely repreſſed in ſolitude, and are only brought out by ſociety. When alone, it has but little induſtry, few tricks, and without cunning ſufficient to guard it againſt the moſt obvious and bungling ſnares laid for it by the hunter. Far from attacking any other animal, it is ſcarce poſſeſſed of the arts of defence. Preferring flight to combat, like all wild animals, it only reſiſts when driven to an extremity, and fights only then when its ſpeed can no longer avail.

But this animal is rather more remarkable for the ſingularity of its conformation than any intellectual ſuperiorities it may be ſuppoſed, in a ſtate of ſolitude, to poſſeſs. The beaver is the only creature among quadrupedes that has a flat broad tail, covered with ſcales, which ſerves as a rudder to direct its motions in the water. Is is the ſole quadrupede that has membranes between the toes on the hind feet only, and none on the fore feet, which ſupply the place of hands, as in the ſquirrel. In ſhort, it is the only animal that in its fore parts entirely reſembles a quadrupede, and in its hinder parts ſeems to approach the nature of fiſhes, by having a ſcaly tail. In other reſpects, it is about two feet long and near one foot high; it is [160] ſomewhat ſhaped like a rat, except the tail, which, as has been obſerved, is flat and ſcaly, ſomewhat reſembling a neat's tongue at the point. Its colour is of a light brown; the hair of two ſorts; the one longer and coarſer; the other, ſoft, fine, ſhort, and ſilky. The teeth are like thoſe of a rat or a ſquirrel, but longer and ſtronger, and admirably adapted to cutting timber or ſtripping bark, to which purpoſes they are conſtantly applied. One ſingularity more may be mentioned in its conformation; which is, that, like birds, it has but one and the ſame vent for the emiſſion of its excrements and its urine; a ſtrange peculiarity, but which, anatomiſts leave us no room to doubt of.

The beavers begin to aſſemble about the months of June and July, to form a ſociety that is to continue for the greateſt part of the year. They arrive in numbers from every ſide, and generally form a company of above two hundred. The place of meeting is commonly the place where they ſix their abode, and this is always by the ſide of ſome lake or river. If it be a lake in which the waters are always upon a level, they diſpenſe with building a dam; but if it be a running ſtream, which is ſubject to floods and falls, they then ſet about building a dam, or pier, that croſſes the river, ſo that it [161] forms a dead water in that part which lies above and below. This dam, or pier, is often fourſcore or an hundred feet long, and ten or twelve feet thick at the baſe. If we compare the greatneſs of the work with the powers of the architect, it will appear enormous; but the ſolidity with which it is built is ſtill more aſtoniſhing than its ſize. The part of the river over which this dam is uſually built, is where it is moſt ſhallow, and where ſome great tree is found growing by the ſide of the ſtream. This they pitch upon as proper for making the principal part in their building; and, although it is often thicker than a man's body, they inſtantly ſet about cutting it down. For this operation they have no other inſtrument but their teeth, which ſoon lay it level, and that alſo on the ſide they wiſh it to fall, which is always acroſs the ſtream. They then fall about cutting off the top branches, to make it lie cloſe and even, and ſerve as the principal beam of their fabric*.

This dike, or cauſey, is ſometimes ten, and ſometimes twelve feet thick at the foundation. It deſcends in a declivity or ſlope, on that ſide next the water, which gravitates upon the work in proportion to the height, and preſſes it with a prodigious force towards the earth. The [162] oppoſite ſide is erected perpendicular, like our walls; and that declivity, which, at the bottom, or baſis, is about twelve feet broad, diminiſhes towards the top, where it is no more than two feet broad, or thereabouts. The materials whereof this mole conſiſts, are wood and clay. The beavers cut, with ſuprizing eaſe, large pieces of wood, ſome as thick as one's arm or one's thigh, and about four, five or ſix feet in length, or ſometimes more, according as the ſlope aſcends. They drive one end of theſe ſtakes into the ground, at a ſmall diſtance one from the other, intermingling a few with them that are ſmaller and more pliant. As the water, however, would find a paſſage through the intervals or ſpaces between them, and leave the reſervoir dry, they have recourſe to a clay, which they know where to find, and with which they ſtop up all the cavities both within and without, ſo that the water is duly confined. They continue to raiſe the dike in proportion to the elevation of the water and the plenty which they have of it. They are conſcious likewiſe that the conveyance of their materials by land would not be ſo eaſily accompliſhed as by water; and therefore they take the advantage of its increaſe, and ſwim with their mortar on their tails, and their ſtakes between their teeth, to the places where there is moſt occaſion for [163] them. If their works are, either by the force of the water or the feet of the huntſmen, who run over them, in the leaſt damnified, the breach is inſtantly made up; every nook and corner of the habitation is reviewed, and, with the utmoſt diligence and application, perfectly repaired. But when they find the huntſmen viſit them too often, they work only in the night-time, or elſe abandon their works entirely, and ſeek out for ſome ſafer ſituation.

The dike, or mole, being thus completed, their next care is to erect their ſeveral apartments, which are either round or oval, and divided into three ſtories, one raiſed above the other: the firſt below the level of the cauſey, which is for the moſt part full of water; the other two above it. This little fabrick is built in a very firm and ſubſtantial manner, on the edge of their reſervoir, and always in ſuch diviſions or apartments as above-mentioned; that in caſe of the water's increaſe, they may move up a ſtory higher, and be no ways incommoded. If they find any little iſland contiguous to their reſervoir, they fix their manſion there, which is then more ſolid, and not ſo frequently expoſed to the overflowing of the water, in which they are not able to continue for any length of time. In caſe they cannot pitch upon ſo commodious [164] a ſituation, they drive piles into the earth, in order to fence and fortify their habitation againſt the wind as well as the water. They make two apertures, at the bottom, to the ſtream; one is a paſſage to their bagnio, which they always keep neat and clean; the other leads to that part of the building where every thing is conveyed, that will either ſoil or damage their upper apartments. They have a third opening or door-way, much higher, contrived for the prevention of their being ſhut up and confined, when the froſt and ſnow has cloſed the apertures of the lower floors. Sometimes they build their houſes altogether upon dry land; but then they ſink trenches five or ſix feet deep, in order to deſcend into the water when they ſee convenient. They make uſe of the ſame materials; and are equally induſtrious in the erection of their lodges, as their dikes. Their walls are perpendicular, and about two feet thick. As their teeth are more ſerviceable than ſaws, they cut off all the wood that projects beyond the wall. After this, when they have mixed up ſome clay and dry graſs together, they work it into a kind of mortar, with which, by the help of their tails, they plaiſter all their works, both within and without.

[165]The inſide is vaulted, and is large enough for the reception of eight or ten beavers. In caſe it riſes in an oval figure, it is for the generality above twelve feet long, and eight or ten feet broad. If the number of inhabitants increaſe to fifteen, twenty, or thirty, the edifice is enlarged in proportion. I have been credibly informed, that four hundred beavers have been diſcovered to reſide in one large manſion-houſe, divided into a vaſt number of apartments, that had a free communication one with another.

All theſe works, more eſpecially in the northern parts, are finiſhed in Auguſt, or September at fartheſt; at which time they begin to lay in their ſtores. During the ſummer, they are perfect epicures; and regale themſelves every day on the choiceſt fruits and plants the country affords. Their proviſions, indeed, in the winter ſeaſon, principally conſiſt of the wood of the birch, the plane, and ſome few other trees, which they ſteep in water, from time to time, in ſuch quantities as are proportioned to the number of inhabitants. They cut down branches from three to ten feet in length. Thoſe of the largeſt dimenſions are conveyed to their magazines by a whole body of beavers; but the ſmalleſt by one only: each of them, [166] however, takes a different way, and has his proper walk aſſigned him, in order that no one labourer ſhould interrupt another in the proſecution of his work. Their wood-yards are larger or ſmaller, in proportion to the number in family: and, according to the obſervation of ſome curious naturaliſts, the uſual ſtock of timber, for the accommodation of ten beavers, conſiſts of about thirty feet in a ſquare ſurface, and ten in depth. Theſe logs are not thrown up in one continual pile, but laid one acroſs the other, with intervals, or ſmall ſpaces between them, in order to take out, with the greater facility, but juſt ſuch a quantity as they ſhall want for their immediate conſumption, and thoſe parcels only, which lie at the bottom in the water, and have been duly ſteeped. This timber is cut again into ſmall particles, and conveyed to one of their largeſt lodges, where the whole family meet, to conſume their reſpective dividends, which are made impartially, in even and equal portions. Sometimes they traverſe the woods, and regale their young with a more novel and elegant entertainment.

Such as are uſed to hunt theſe animals, know perfectly well, that green wood is much more acceptable to them, than that which is old and dry; for which reaſon they plant a conſiderable [167] quantity of it round their lodgments; and as they come out to partake of it, they either catch them in ſnares, or take them by ſurprize. In the winter, when the froſts are very ſevere, they ſometimes break a large hole in the ice; and when the beavers reſort thither for the benefit of a little freſh air, they either kill them with their hatchets, or cover the opening with a large ſubſtantial net. After this, they undermine and ſubvert the whole fabrick: whereupon the beavers, in hopes to make their eſcape in their uſual way, fly with the utmoſt precipitation to the water; and plunging into the aperture, fall directly into the net, and are inevitably taken.

THE SEAL.

EVERY ſtep we proceed in the deſcription of amphibious quadrupedes, we make nearer advances to the tribe of fiſhes. We firſt obſerved the otter with its feet webbed, and formed for an aquatic life; we next ſaw the beaver with the hinder parts covered with ſcales, reſembling thoſe of fiſhes; and we now come to a claſs of animals in which the ſhape and habitude of fiſhes ſtill more apparently prevails, and whoſe internal conformation attaches them very cloſely [168] to the water. The Seal, in general, reſembles a quadrupede in ſome reſpects, and a fiſh in others. The head is round, like that of a man; the noſe broad, like that of the otter; the teeth like thoſe of a dog; the eyes large and ſparkling; no external ears, but holes that ſerve for that purpoſe; the neck is well proportioned, and of a moderate length; but the body thickeſt where the neck is joined to it. From thence the animal tapers down to the tail, growing all the way ſmaller, like a fiſh. The whole body is covered with a thick briſtly ſhining hair, which looks as if it were entirely rubbed over with oil; and thus far the quadrupede prevails over the aquatic. But it is in the feet that this animal greatly differs from all the reſt of the quadrupede kind; for, though furniſhed with the ſame number of bones with other quadrupedes, yet they are ſo ſtuck on the body, and ſo covered with a membrane, that they more reſemble fins than feet; and might be taken for ſuch, did not the claws with which they are pointed ſhew their proper analogy. In the fore feet, or rather hands, all the arm and the cubit, are hid under the ſkin, and nothing appears but the hand from the wriſt downwards; ſo that if we imagine a child with its arms ſwathed down, and nothing appearing but its hands at each ſide of the body, [169] towards the breaſt, we may have ſome idea of the formation of this animal in that part. Theſe hands are covered in a thick ſkin, which ſerves, like a fin, for ſwimming; and are diſtinguiſhed by five claws, which are long, black, and piercing. As to the hind feet, they are ſtretched out on each ſide of the ſhort tail, covered with a hairy ſkin like the former, and both together almoſt joining at the tail; the whole looks like the broad flat tail of a fiſh; and, were it not for five claws which appear, might be conſidered as ſuch. The dimenſions of this animal are various, being found from four feet long to nine. They differ alſo in their colours; ſome being black, others ſpotted, ſome white, and many more yellow. It would, therefore, be almoſt endleſs to mention the varieties of this animal. Buffon deſcribes three; and Krantz mentions five, all different from thoſe deſcribed by the other. I might, were I fond of ſuch honours, claim the merit of being a firſt deſcriber myſelf; but, in fact, the varieties in this animal are ſo many, that, were they all deſcribed, the catalogue would be as extenſive as it would be uſeleſs and unentertaining. It is ſufficient to obſerve, that they agree in the general external characters already mentioned, and internally in two or three more, which are ſo remarkable as to deſerve peculiar attention.

[170]It has been often remarked that all animals are ſagacious in proportion to the ſize of their brain. It has, in ſupport of this opinion, been alledged that man, with reſpect to his bulk, has of all others the largeſt. In purſuance of this aſſumption, ſome erroneous ſpeculations have been formed. But, were the ſize of the brain to determine the quantity of the underſtanding, the ſeal would of all other animals be the moſt ſagacious; for it has, in proportion, the largeſt brain of any, even man himſelf not excepted. However, this animal is poſſeſſed of but very few advantages over other quadrupedes; and the ſize of its brain furniſhes it with few powers that contribute to its wiſdom or its preſervation.

This animal differs alſo in the formation of its tongue from all other quadrupedes. It is forked or ſlit at the end like that of ſerpents; but for what purpoſes it is thus ſingularly contrived we are at a loſs to know. We are much better informed with reſpect to a third ſingularity in its conformation, which is, that the foramen ovale in the heart is open. Thoſe who are in the leaſt acquainted with anatomy know, that the veins uniting bring their blood to the heart, which ſends it into the lungs, and from thence it returns to the heart again to be diſtributed [171] through the whole body. Animals, however, before they are born, make no uſe of their lungs; and therefore their blood, without entering their lungs, takes a ſhorter paſſage through the very partition of the heart, from one of its chambers to the other, thus paſſing from the veins directly into thoſe veſſels that drive it through the whole frame. But the moment the animal is brought forth, the paſſage through the partition, which paſſage is called the foramen ovale, cloſes up and continues cloſed for ever; for the blood then takes its longeſt courſe through the lungs to return to the other chamber of the heart again. Now the ſeal's heart reſembles that of an infant in the womb, for the foramen ovale never cloſes; and, although the blood of this animal commonly circulates through the lungs, yet it can circulate without their aſſiſtance, as was obſerved above, by a ſhorter way*. From hence, therefore, we ſee the manner in which this animal is adapted for continuing under water; for, being under no immediate neceſſity of breathing, [172] the vital motions are ſtill carried on while it continues at the bottom; ſo that it can purſue its prey in that element, and yet enjoy all the delights and advantages of ours.

The water is the ſeal's uſual habitation, and whatever fiſh it can catch its food. Though not equal in inſtinct and cunning to ſome terreſtrial animals, it is greatly ſuperior to the mute tenants of that element in which it chiefly reſides. Although it can continue for ſeveral minutes under water, yet it is not able, like fiſhes, to remain there for any length of time; and a ſeal may be drowned like any other terreſtrial animal. Thus it ſeems ſuperior in ſome reſpects to the inhabitants of both elements, and inferior in many more. Although furniſhed with legs, it is in ſome meaſure deprived of all the advantages of them*. They are ſhut up within its body, while nothing appear but the extremities of them, and theſe furniſhed with very little motion, but to ſerve them as fins in the water. The hind feet, indeed, being turned backwards, are entirely uſeleſs upon land; ſo that when the animal is obliged to move, it drags itſelf forward like a reptile, and with an effort more painful. For this purpoſe it is obliged to uſe its fore feet, which, though very [173] ſhort, ſerve to give it ſuch a degree of ſwiftneſs that a man cannot readily overtake it; and it runs towards the ſea. As it is thus aukwardly formed for going upon land, it is ſeldom found at any diſtance from the ſea-ſhore, but continues to baſk upon the rocks; and when diſturbed always plunges down at once to the bottom.

The ſeal is a ſocial animal, and wherever it frequents numbers are generally ſeen together. They are found in every climate, but in the north and icy ſeas they are particularly numerous. It is on thoſe ſhores, which are leſs inhabited than ours, and where the fiſh reſort in greater abundance, that they are ſeen by thouſands, like flocks of ſheep, baſking on the rocks, and ſuckling their young. There they keep watch like other gregarious animals; and, if an enemy appear, inſtantly plunge altogether into the water. In fine weather they more uſually employ their time in fiſhing; and generally come on ſhore in tempeſts and ſtorms. The ſeal ſeems the only animal that takes delight in theſe tremendous conflicts of nature. In the midſt of thunders and torrents, when every other creature takes refuge from the fury of the elements, the ſeals are ſeen by thouſands ſporting along the ſhore, and delighted with the univerſal diſorder. This, however, may ariſe [174] from the ſea being at that time too turbulent for them to reſide in; and they may then particularly come upon land when unable to reſiſt the ſhock of their more uſual element.

As ſeals are gregarious, ſo are they alſo animals of paſſage, and perhaps the only quadrupedes that migrate from one part of the world to another. The generality of quadrupedes are contented with their native plains and foreſts, and ſeldom ſtray except when neceſſity or fear impels them. But ſeals change their habitation; and are ſeen in vaſt multitudes directing their courſe from one continent to another*. On the northern coaſts of Greenland they are ſeen to retire in July, and to return again in September. This time it is ſuppoſed they go in purſuit of food. But they make a ſecond departure in March to caſt their young, and return in the beginning of June, young and all, in a great body together, obſerving in their route a certain fixed time and track, like birds of paſſage. When they go upon this expedition, they are ſeen in great droves, for many days together, making towards the north, taking that part of the ſea moſt free from ice, and going ſtill forward into thoſe ſeas where man cannot follow. In what manner they return, [175] or by what paſſages, is utterly unknown; it is only obſerved, that when they leave the coaſts to go upon this expedition they are all extremely fat, but on their return they come home exceſſively lean.

The females in our climate bring forth in winter, and rear their young upon ſome ſand-bank, rock, or deſolate iſland, at ſome diſtance from the continent. When they ſuckle their young they ſit up on their hinder legs, while theſe, which are at firſt white with woolly hair, cling to the tates, of which there are four in number, near the navel*. In this manner the young continue in the place where they are brought forth, for twelve or fifteen days; after which the dam brings them down to the water, and accuſtoms them to ſwim and get their food by their own induſtry. As each litter never exceeds above three or four, ſo the animal's cares are not much divided, and the education of her little ones is ſoon compleated. In fact, the young are particularly docile; they underſtand the mother's voice among the numerous bleatings of the reſt of the old ones; they mutually aſſiſt each other in danger, and are perfectly obedient to her call. Thus early accuſtomed to ſubjection, they continue to live in ſociety, [176] hunt and herd together, and have a variety of tones by which they encourage to purſue or warn each other of danger. Some compare their voices to the bleating of a flock of ſheep, interrupted now and then by the barking of angry dogs, and ſometimes the ſhriller notes of a cat*. All along the ſhore, each has its own peculiar rock, of which it takes poſſeſſion, and where it ſleeps when fatigued with fiſhing, uninterrupted by any of the reſt. The only ſeaſon when their ſocial ſpirit ſeems to forſake them, is that when they feel the influences of natural deſire. They then fight moſt deſperately; and the male that is victorious, keeps all the females to himſelf. Their combats on theſe occaſions are managed with great obſtinacy, and yet great juſtice: two are never ſeen to fall upon one together; but each has its antagoniſt, and all fight an equal battle, till one alone becomes victorious.

We are not certainly informed how long the females continue pregnant; but if we may judge from the time which intervenes between their departure from the Greenland coaſts and their return, they cannot go above ſeven or eight months at the fartheſt. How long this animal lives is alſo unknown: a gentleman whom I [177] knew in Ireland, kept two of them, which he had taken very young, in his houſe for ten years; and they appeared to have the marks of age at the time I ſaw them, for they were grown grey about the muzzle; and it is very probable they did not live many years longer. In their natural ſtate the old ones are ſeen very fat and torpid, ſeparated from the reſt, and, as it ſhould ſeem, incapable of procreation.

As their chief food is fiſh, ſo they are very expert at purſuing and catching it. In thoſe places where the herrings are ſeen in ſhoals, the ſeals frequent and deſtroy them by thouſands. When the herring retires, the ſeal is then obliged to hunt after fiſh that are ſtronger, and more capable of evading the purſuit*: however, they are very ſwift in deep waters, dive with great rapidity, and, while the ſpectator eyes the ſpot at which they diſappear, they are ſeen to emerge at above an hundred yards diſtance. The weaker fiſhes, therefore, have no other means to eſcape their tyranny, but by darting into the ſhallows. The ſeal has been ſeen to purſue a mullet, which is a ſwift ſwimmer, and to turn it to and fro, in deep water, as an hound does an hare on land. The mullet has been ſeen trying every art of evaſion; and [178] at laſt ſwimming into ſhallow water, in hopes of eſcaping. There, however, the ſeal followed; ſo that the little animal had no other way left to eſcape, but to throw itſelf on one ſide, by which means it darted into ſhoaler water than it could have ſwam in with the belly undermoſt; and thus at laſt it got free.

As they are thus the tyrants of the element in which they chiefly reſide, ſo they are not very fearful even upon land, except on thoſe ſhores which are thickly inhabited, and from whence they have been frequently purſued. Along the deſert coaſts where they are ſeldom interrupted by man, they ſeem to be very bold and courageous; if attacked with ſtones, like dogs, they bite ſuch as are thrown againſt them; if encountered more cloſely, they make a deſperate reſiſtance, and, while they have any life, attempt to annoy their enemy. Some have been known, even while they were ſkinning, to turn round and ſeize their butchers; but they are generally diſpatched by a ſtunning blow on the noſe. They uſually ſleep ſoundly where not frequently diſturbed; and that is the time, when the hunters ſurprize them. The Europeans who go into the Greenland ſeas upon the whale-fiſhery, ſurround them with nets, and knock them on the head; but the [179] Greenlanders, wild are unprovided with ſo expenſive an apparatus, deſtroy them in a different manner. One of theſe little men paddles away in his boat, and when he ſees a ſeal aſleep on the ſide of a rock, darts his lance, and that with ſuch unerring aim, that it never fails to bury its point in the animal's ſide. The ſeal, feeling itſelf wounded, inſtantly plunges from the top of the rock, lance and all, into the ſea, and dives to the bottom; but the lance has a bladder tied to one end, which keeps buoyant, and reſiſts the animal's deſcent; ſo that every time the ſeal riſes to the top of the water, the Greenlander ſtrikes it with his oar, until he at laſt diſpatches it. But, in our climate, the ſeals are much more wary, and ſeldom ſuffer the hunter to come near them. They are often ſeen upon the rocks of the Corniſh coaſt, baſking in the ſun, or upon the inacceſſible cliffs, left dry by the tide. There they continue, extremely watchful, and never ſleep long without moving; ſeldom longer than a minute; for then they raiſe their heads, and if they ſee no danger, they lie down again, raiſing and reclining their heads alternately, at intervals of about a minute each. The only method, therefore, that can be taken, is to ſhoot them: if they chance to eſcape, they haſten towards the [180] deep, flinging ſtones and dirt behind them as they ſcramble along, and at the ſame time expreſſing their pain or their fears, by the moſt diſtreſsful cry; if they happen to be overtaken, they make a vigorous reſiſtance with their feet and teeth, till they are killed.

The ſeal is taken for the ſake of its ſkin, and for the oil its fat yields. The former ſells for about four ſhillings; and, when dreſſed, is very uſeful in covering trunks, making waiſt-coats, ſhot-pouches, and ſeveral other conveniencies. The fleſh of this animal formerly found place at the tables of the great. At a feaſt provided by Archbiſhop Nevell, for Edward the Fourth, there were twelve ſeals and porpoiſes provided, among other extraordinary rarities.

As a variety of this animal, we may mention the Sea Lion, deſcribed in Anſon's Voyages. This is much larger than any of the former; being from eleven to eighteen feet long. It is ſo fat that, when the ſkin is taken off, the blubber lies a foot thick all round the body. It ſeems to differ from the ordinary ſeal, not only in its ſize, but alſo in its food; for it is often ſeen to graze along the ſhore, and to feed upon the long graſs that grows up along the edges of brooks. Its cry is very various, ſometimes [181] reſembling the neighing of an horſe, and ſometimes the grunting of the hog. It may be regarded as the largeſt of the ſeal family.

THE MORSE.

[]

Figure 17. The Morſe.

Elias Martin sc.

[181]THE Morſe is an animal of the ſeal kind; but differing from the reſt, in a very particular formation of the teeth, having two large tuſks growing from the upper jaw, ſhaped like thoſe of an elephant, but directed downwards; whereas, in the elephant, they grow upright, like horns; it alſo wants the cutting-teeth, both above and below: as to the reſt, it pretty much reſembles a ſeal, except that it is much larger, being from twelve to ſixteen feet long. The morſes are alſo generally ſeen to frequent the ſame places that ſeals are known to reſide in; they have the ſame habitudes, the ſame advantages, and the ſame imperfections. There are, however, fewer varieties of the morſe than the ſeal; and they are rarely found, except in the frozen regions near the pole. They were formerly more numerous than at preſent; and the ſavage natives of the coaſts of Greenland deſtroyed them in much greater quantities before thoſe ſeas were viſited by European ſhips upon the whale-fiſhery, than now. Whether [] [...] [181] [...] [182] theſe animals have been ſince actually thinned by the fiſhers, or have removed to ſome more diſtant and unfrequented ſhores, is not known; but certain it is, that the Greenlanders, who once had plenty, are now obliged to toil more aſſiduouſly for ſubſiſtence; and as the quantity of their proviſions decreaſe, for they live moſtly upon ſeals, the numbers of that poor people are every day diminiſhing. As to the teeth, they are generally from two to three feet long; and the ivory is much more eſteemed than that of the elephant, being whiter and harder. The fiſhers have been known formerly to kill three or four hundred at once; and along thoſe ſhores where they chiefly frequented, their bones are ſtill ſeen lying in prodigious quantities. In this manner a ſupply of proviſions, which would have ſupported the Greenland nation for ages, has been, in a few years, ſacrificed to thoſe who did not uſe them, but who ſought them for the purpoſes of avarice and luxury!

THE MANATI.

WE come, in the laſt place, to an animal that terminates the boundary between quadrupedes and fiſhes. Inſtead of a creature preying among the deeps, and retiring upon land for [183] repoſe or refreſhment, we have here an animal that never leaves the water, and is enabled to live only there. It cannot be called a quadrupede, as it has but two legs only; nor can it be called a fiſh, as it is covered with hair. In ſhort, it forms the link that unites thoſe two great tribes to each other; and may be indiſcriminately called the laſt of beaſts, or the firſt of fiſhes.

We have ſeen the ſeal approaching nearly to the aquatic tribes, by having its hind legs thrown back on each ſide of the tail, and forming ſomething, that reſembled the tail of a fiſh; but upon examining the ſkeleton of that animal, its title to the rank of a quadrupede was obſerved plainly to appear, having all the bones of the hinder legs and feet as complete as any other animal whatſoever.

But we are now come to a creature that not only wants the external appearance of hinder legs, but, when examined internally, will be found to want them altogether. The Manati is ſomewhat ſhaped in the head and the body like the ſeal; it has alſo the fore legs or hands pretty much in the ſame manner, ſhort and webbed, but with four claws only: theſe alſo are ſhorter in proportion than in the former animal, and placed nearer the head; ſo that [184] they can ſcarcely aſſiſt its motions upon land. But it is in the hinder parts that it chiefly differs from all others of the ſeal kind; for the tail is perfectly that of a fiſh, being ſpread out broad like a fan, and wanting even the veſtiges of thoſe bones which make the legs and feet in others of its kind. The largeſt of theſe are about twenty-ſix feet in length; the ſkin is blackiſh, very tough and hard; when cut, as black as ebony; and there are a few hairs ſcattered, like briſtles, of about an inch long. The eyes are very ſmall, in proportion to the animal's head; and the ear-holes, for it has no external ears, are ſo narrow as ſcarce to admit a pin's head. The tongue is ſo ſhort, that ſome have pretended it has none at all; and the teeth are compoſed only of two ſolid white bones, running the whole length of both jaws, and formed merely for chewing, and not tearing its vegetable food. The female has breaſts placed forward, like thoſe of a woman; and ſhe brings forth but one at a time: this ſhe holds with her paws to her boſom; there it ſticks, and accompanies her wherever ſhe goes.

This animal can ſcarcely be called amphibious, as it never entirely leaves the water, only advancing the head out of the ſtream, to [185] reach the graſs on the river ſides. Its food is entirely upon vegetables; and, therefore, it is never found far in the open ſea, but chiefly in the large rivers of South America; and often above two thouſand miles from the ocean. It is alſo found in the ſeas near Kamſkatka, and feeds upon the weeds that grow near the ſhore. There are likewiſe level greens at the bottom of ſome of the Indian bays, and there the manatees are harmleſsly ſeen grazing among turtles and other cruſtaceous fiſhes, neither giving nor fearing any diſturbance. Theſe animals, when unmoleſted, keep together in large companies, and ſurround their young ones*. They bring forth moſt commonly in autumn; and it is ſuppoſed they go with young eighteen months, for the time of generation is in ſpring.

The manati has no voice nor cry, for the only noiſe it makes, is by fetching its breath. Its internal parts ſomewhat reſemble thoſe of an horſe; its inteſtines being longer, in proportion, than thoſe of any other creature, the horſe only excepted.

The fat of the manati, which lies under the ſkin, when expoſed to the ſun, has a fine ſmell and taſte, and far exceeds the fat of any ſea [186] animal; it has this peculiar property, that the heat of the ſun will not ſpoil it, nor make it grow rancid; its taſte is like the oil of ſweet almonds; and it will ſerve very well, in all caſes, inſtead of butter: any quantity may be taken inwardly with ſafety, for it has no other effect than keeping the body open. The fat of the tail is of an harder conſiſtence; and, when boiled, is more delicate than the former. The lean is like beef, but more red; and may be kept a long while, in the hotteſt days, without tainting. It takes up a long time in boiling; and, when done, eats like beef. The fat of the young one is like pork; the lean is like veal; and, upon the whole, it is very probable that this animal's fleſh ſomewhat reſembles that of turtle; ſince they are fed in the ſame element, and upon the very ſame food. The turtle is a delicacy well known among us: our luxuries are not as yet ſufficiently heightened to introduce the manati; which, if it could be brought over, might ſingly ſuffice for a whole corporation.

CHAP. VII. Of Animals of the Monkey Kind.

[187]

QUADRUPEDES may be conſidered as a numerous groupe, terminated on every ſide by ſome that but in part deſerve the name. On one quarter we ſee a tribe covered with quills, or furniſhed with wings, that lift them among the inhabitants of air; on another, we behold a diverſity cloathed with ſcales and ſhells, to rank with inſects; and ſtill, on a third, we ſee them deſcending into the waters, to live among the mute tenants of that element. We now come to a numerous tribe, that, leaving the brute creation, ſeem to make approaches even to humanity; that bear an aukward reſemblance of the human form, and diſcover ſome faint efforts at intellectual ſagacity.

Animals of the monkey claſs are furniſhed with hands inſtead of paws; their ears, eyes, eye-lids, lips, and breaſts, are like thoſe of mankind; their internal conformation alſo bears ſome diſtant likeneſs; and the whole offers a picture that may well mortify the pride of ſuch as make their perſons alone the principal object of their admiration.

Theſe approaches, however, are gradual; and [188] ſome bear the marks of this our boaſted form, more ſtrongly than others.

In the Ape kind we ſee the whole external machine ſtrongly impreſſed with the human likeneſs, and capable of the ſame exertions: theſe walk upright, want a tail, have fleſhy poſteriors, have calves to their legs, and feet nearly like ours.

In the Baboon kind we perceive a more diſtant approach to the human form; the quadrupede mixing in every part of the animal's figure: theſe generally go upon all fours; but ſome, when upright, are as tall as a man; they have ſhort tails, long ſnouts, and are poſſeſſed of brutal fierceneſs.

The Monkey kind are removed a ſtep further: theſe are much leſs than the former, with tails as long, or longer than their bodies, and flattiſh faces.

Laſtly, the Maki and Opaſſum kind, ſeem to loſe all reſemblance of the human figure, except in having hands; their noſes are lengthened out, like thoſe of quadrupedes, and every part of their bodies totally different from the human; however, as they graſp their food, or other objects, with one hand, which quadrupedes cannot do, this ſingle ſimilitude gives them an air of ſagacity, to which they have ſcarce any other pretenſions.

From this ſlight ſurvey it may be eaſily ſeen [189] that one general deſcription will not ſerve for animals ſo very different from each other: nevertheleſs, it would be fatiguing to the laſt degree, as their varieties are ſo numerous, and their differences ſo ſmall, to go through a particular deſcription of each. In this caſe it will be beſt to give an hiſtory of the foremoſt in each claſs; at the ſame time marking the diſtinctions in every ſpecies. By this we ſhall avoid a tedious repetition of ſimilar characters, and conſider the manners and the oddities of this phantaſtic tribe in general points of view; where we ſhall perceive how nearly they approach to the human figure, and how little they benefit by the approximation.

The foremoſt of the Ape kind is the Ourang Outang, or Wild Man of the Woods. This name ſeems to have been given to various animals, agreeing in one common character of walking upright, but coming from different countries, and of very different proportions and powers. The Troglodyte of Bontius, the Drill of Purchas, and the Pygmy of Tyſon, have all received this general name; and have been ranked, by ſome naturaliſts, under one general deſcription. If we read the accounts of many remote travellers, under this name we are preſented with a formidable animal, from [190] ſix to eight feet high; if we examine the books of ſuch as have deſcribed it nearer home, we find it a pigmy not above three. In this diverſity we muſt be content to blend their various deſcriptions into one general account; obſerving, at the ſame time, that we have no reaſon to doubt any of their relations, although we are puzzled which to follow.

The Ouran Outang, which, of all other animals, moſt nearly approaches to the human race, is ſeen of different ſizes, from three to ſeven feet high. In general, however, its ſtature is leſs than that of a man; but its ſtrength and agility much greater. Travellers who have ſeen various kinds of theſe animals in their native ſolitudes, give us ſurprizing relations of their force, their ſwiftneſs, their addreſs, and their ferocity. Naturaliſts who have obſerved their form and manners at home, have been as much ſtruck with their patient, pliant, imitative diſpoſitions; with their appearance and conformation, ſo nearly human. Of the ſmalleſt ſort of theſe animals we have had ſeveral, at different times, brought into this country, all nearly alike; but that obſerved by Dr. Tyſon, is the beſt known, having been deſcribed with the greateſt exactneſs.

The animal which was deſcribed by that [191] learned phyſician, was brought from Angola in Africa, where it had been taken in the internal parts of the country, in company with a female of the ſame kind, that died by the way. The body was covered with hair, which was of a coal black colour, more reſembling human hair than that of brutes. It bore a ſtill ſtronger ſimilitude in its different lengths; for in thoſe places where it is longeſt on the human ſpecies, it was alſo longeſt in this; as on the head, the upper lip, the chin, and the pubes. The face was like that of a man, the forehead larger, and the head round. The upper and lower jaw were not ſo prominent as in monkies; but flat, like thoſe of a man. The ears were like thoſe of a man in moſt reſpects; and the teeth had more reſemblance to the human, than thoſe of any other creature. The bending of the arms and legs were juſt the ſame as in a man; and, in ſhort, the animal, at firſt view, preſented a figure entirely human.

In order to diſcover its differences, it was neceſſary to take a cloſer ſurvey; and then the imperfections of its form began to appear. The firſt obvious difference was in the flatneſs of the noſe; the next in the lowneſs of the forehead, and the wanting the prominence of the chin. The ears were proportionably too large; the [192] eyes too cloſe to each other; and the interval between the noſe and mouth too great. The body and limbs differed, in the thighs being too ſhort, and the arms too long; in the thumb being too little, and the palm of the hand too narrow. The feet alſo were rather more like hands than feet; and the animal, if we may judge from the figure, bent too much upon its haunches.

When this creature was examined anatomically, a ſurprizing ſimilitude was ſeen to prevail in its internal conformation. It differed from man in the number of its ribs, having thirteen; whereas, in man, there are but twelve. The vertebrae of the neck alſo were ſhorter, the bones of the pelvis narrower, the orbits of the eyes were deeper, the kidnies were rounder, the urinary and gall bladders were longer and ſmaller, and the ureters of a different figure. Such were the principal diſtinctions between the internal parts of this animal and thoſe of man; in almoſt every thing elſe they were entirely and exactly the ſame, and diſcovered an aſtoniſhing congruity. Indeed, many parts were ſo much alike in conformation, that it might have excited wonder how they were productive of ſuch few advantages. The tongue, and all the organs of the voice, [193] were the ſame, and yet the animal was dumb; the brain was formed in the ſame manner with that of man, and yet the creature wanted reaſon: an evident proof (as Mr. Buffon finely obſerves) that no diſpoſition of matter will give mind; and that the body, how nicely ſoever formed, is formed in vain, when there is not infuſed a ſoul to direct its operations.

Having thus taken a comparative view of this creature with man, what follows may be neceſſary to compleat the general deſcription. This animal was very hairy all behind, from the head downwards; and the hair ſo thick, that it covered the ſkin almoſt from being ſeen: but in all parts before, the hair was much thinner, the ſkin every where appeared; and in ſome places it was almoſt bare. When it went on all fours, as it was ſometimes ſeen to do, it appeared all hairy; when it went erect, it appeared before leſs hairy, and more like a man. Its hair, which in this particular animal was black, much more reſembled that of men than the fur of brutes; for, in the latter, beſides their long hair, there is uſually a finer and ſhorter intermixed; but in the ouran outang it was all of a kind; only about the pubes the hair was greyiſh, ſeemed longer, and ſomewhat different; as alſo on the upper lip and chin, [194] where it was greyiſh, like the hair of a beard. The face, hands, and ſoles of the feet, were without hair; and ſo was moſt part of the forehead: but down the ſides of the face the hair was thick, it being there about an inch and an half long, which exceeded that on any other part of the body. In the palms of its hands were remarkable thoſe lines which are uſually taken notice of in palmiſtry; and, at the tips of the fingers, thoſe ſpiral lines obſerved in man. The palms of the hands were as long as the ſoles of the feet; and the toes upon theſe were as long as the fingers; the middle toe was the longeſt of all, and the whole foot differed from the human. The hinder feet being thus formed as hands, the animal often uſed them as ſuch; and, on the contrary, now and then made uſe of its hands inſtead of feet. The breaſts appeared ſmall and ſhrivelled, but exactly like thoſe of a man: the navel alſo appeared very fair, and in exact diſpoſition, being neither harder nor more prominent than what is uſually ſeen in children. Such is the deſcription of this extraordinary creature; to which little has been added by ſucceeding obſervers, except that the colour of the hair is often found to vary: in that deſcribed by Edwards it was of a reddiſh brown.

[195]From a picture ſo like that of the human ſpecies, we are naturally led to expect a correſponding mind; and it is certain, that ſuch of theſe animals as have been ſhewn in Europe, have diſcovered a degree of imitation beyond what any quadrupede can arrive at.

That of Tyſon was a gentle, fond, harmleis creature. In its paſſage to England, thoſe that it knew on ſhip-board it would embrace with the greateſt tenderneſs, opening their boſoms, and claſping its hands about them. Monkies of a lower ſpecies it held in utter averſion; it would always avoid the place where they were kept in the ſame veſſel; and ſeemed to conſider itſelf as a creature of higher extraction. After it was taken, and a little uſed to wear cloaths, it grew very fond of them; a part it would put on without any help, and the reſt it would carry in its hands to ſome of the company, for their aſſiſtance. It would lie in a bed, place its head on the pillow, and pull the cloaths upwards, as a man would do.

That which was ſeen by Edwards, and deſcribed by Buffon, ſhewed even a ſuperior degree of ſagacity. It walked, like all of its kind, upon two legs, even though it carried burthens. Its air was melancholly, and its deportment grave. Unlike the baboon or monkey, whoſe [196] motions are violent and appetites capricious, who are fond of miſchief and obedient only from fear, this animal was ſlow in in its motions, and a look was ſufficient to keep it in awe. I have ſeen it, ſays Mr. Buffon, give its hand to ſhow the company to the door: I have ſeen it ſit at table, unfold its napkin, wipe its lips, make uſe of the ſpoon and the fork to carry the victuals to its mouth, pour out its drink into a glaſs, touch glaſſes when invited, take a cup and ſaucer and lay them on the table, put in ſugar, pour out its tea, leave it to cool before drinking, and all this without any other inſtigation than the ſigns or the command of its maſter, and often of its own accord. It was gentle and inoffenſive; it even approached ſtrangers with reſpect, and came rather to receive careſſes than to offer injuries. It was particularly fond of ſugared comfits, which every body was ready to give it; and, as it had a defluxion upon the bread, ſo much ſugar contributed to encreaſe the diſorder and ſhorten its life. It continued at Paris but one ſummer, and died in London. It ate indiſcriminately of all things, but it preferred dry and ripe fruits to all other aliments. It would drink wine, but in ſmall quantities, and gladly left it for milk, tea, or any other ſweet liquor.

[197]Such theſe animals appeared when brought into Europe. However, many of their extraordinary habits were probably the reſult of education, and we are not told how, long the inſtructions they received for this purpoſe were continued. But we learn from another account that they take but a very ſhort time to come to a great degree of imitative perfection. Mr. L. Broſſe bought two young ones, that were but a year old, from a Negroe; and theſe at that early age diſcovered an aſtoniſhing power of imitation*. They even then ſat at the table like men, ate of every thing without diſtinction, made uſe of their knife, ſpoon, and fork, both to eat their meat and help themſelves. They drank wine and other liquors. When carried on ſhipboard, they had ſigns for the cabbin boys expreſſive of their wants; and whenever theſe neglected attending upon them as they deſired, they inſtantly flew into a paſſion, ſeized them by the arm, bit them, and kept them down. The male was ſea-ſick, and required attendance like an human creature; he was even twice bled in the arm; and every time afterwards when he found himſelf out of order, he ſhewed his arm, as deſirous of being relieved by bleeding.

[198]Pyrard relates, that in the province of Sierra Leona, in Africa, there are a kind of apes, called Baris, which are ſtrong and muſcular, and which, if properly inſtructed when young, ſerve as very uſeful domeſtics. They uſually walk upright; they pound at a mortar; they go to the river to fetch water, this they carry back in a little pitcher, on their heads; but if care be not taken to receive the pitcher at their return, they let it fall to the ground, and then, ſeeing it broken, they begin to lament and cry for their loſs. Le Compte's account is much to the ſame purpoſe of an ape, which he ſaw in the Streights of Molucca. ‘"It walked upon its two hind feet, which it bent a little, like a dog that had been taught to dance. It made uſe of its hands and arms as we do. Its viſage was not much more diſagreeable than that of an Hottentot; but the body was all over covered with a woolly hair of different colours. As to the reſt, it cried like a child; all its outward actions were ſo like the human, and the paſſions ſo lively and ſignificant, that dumb men could ſcarce better expreſs their conceptions and deſires. It had alſo that expreſſion of paſſion or joy which we often ſee in children, ſtamping with its feet, and ſtriking them againſt the ground, to ſhew its ſpight, or when refuſed [199] any thing it paſſionately longed for. Although theſe animals," continues he, "are very big, for that I ſaw was four feet high, their nimbleneſs is incredible. It is a pleaſure beyond expreſſion to ſee them run up the tackling of a ſhip, where they ſometimes play as if they had a knack of vaulting peculiar to themſelves, or as if they had been paid, like our rope-dancers, to divert the company. Sometimes, ſuſpended by one arm, they poize themſelves, and then turn all of a ſudden round about a rope, with as much quickneſs as a wheel, or a ſling put into motion. Sometimes holding the rope ſucceſſively with their long fingers, and, letting their whole body fall into the air, they run full ſpeed from one end to the other, and come back again with the ſame ſwiftneſs. There is no poſture but they imitate, nor motion but they perform. Bending themſelves like a bow, rolling like a bowl, hanging by the hands, feet, and teeth, according to the different fancies with which their capricious imagination ſupplies them. But what is ſtill more amazing than all is, their agility to fling themſelves from one rope to another, though at thirty, forty, and fifty feet diſtance."’

Such are the habitudes and the powers of the ſmaller claſs of theſe extraordinary creatures; [200] but we are preſented with a very different picture in thoſe of a larger ſtature and more muſcular form. The little animals we have been deſcribing, which are ſeldom found above four feet high, ſeem to partake of the nature of dwarfs among the human ſpecies, being gentle, aſſiduous, and playful, rather fitted to amuſe than terrify. But the gigantic races of the Ourang Outang, ſeen and deſcribed by travellers, are truly formidable; and in the gloomy foreſts, where they are only found, ſeem to hold undiſputed dominion. Many of theſe are as tall or taller than a man; active, ſtrong and intrepid, cunning, laſcivious and cruel. This redoubtable rival of mankind is found in many parts of Africa, in the Eaſt-Indies, in Madagaſcar, and in Borneo*. In the laſt of theſe places, the people of quality courſe him as we do the ſtag; and this ſort of hunting is one of the favourite amuſements of the king himſelf. This creature is extremely ſwift of foot, endowed with extraordinary ſtrength, and runs with prodigious celerity. His ſkin is all hairy, his eyes ſunk in his head, his countenance ſtern, his face tanned, and all his lineaments, though exactly human, harſh and blackened by the ſun. In Africa this creature is even ſtill more formidable. Battel calls [201] him the Pongo, and aſſures us that in all his proportions he reſembles a man, except that he is much larger, even to a gigantic ſtate. His face reſembles that of a man, the eyes deep ſunk in the head, the hair on each ſide extremely long, the viſage naked and without hair, as alſo the ears and the hands. The body is lightly covered, and ſcarcely differing from that of a man, except that there are no calves to the legs. Still, however, the animal is ſeen to walk upon his hinder legs, and in an erect poſture. He ſleeps under trees, and builds himſelf an hut, which ſerves to protect him againſt the ſun and the rains of the tropical climates, of which he is a native. He lives only upon fruits, and is no way carnivorous. He cannot ſpeak, although furniſhed with greater inſtinct than any other animal of the brute creation. When the Negroes make a fire in the woods, this animal comes near and warms himſelf by the blaze. However, he has not ſkill enough to keep the flame alive by feeding it with fuel. They go together in companies; and if they happen to meet one of the human ſpecies, remote from ſuccour, they ſhew him no mercy. They even attack the elephant, which they beat with their clubs, and oblige to leave that part of the foreſt which they claim [202] as their own. It is impoſſible to take any of theſe dreadful creatures alive, for they are ſo ſtrong that ten men would not be a match for but one of them. None of this kind, therefore, are taken except when very young, and theſe but rarely, when the female happens to leave them behind, for in general they keep clung to the breaſt, and adhere both with legs and arms. From the ſame traveller we learn, that when one of theſe animals dies, the reſt cover the body with a quantity of leaves and branches. They ſometimes alſo ſhew mercy to the human kind. A Negroe boy, that was taken by one of theſe, and carried into the woods, continued there a whole year, without receiving any injury*. From another traveller we learn, that theſe animals often attempt to ſurprize the female Negroes as they go into the woods, and frequently keep them againſt their wills for the pleaſure of their company, feeding them very plentifully all the time. He aſſures us that he knew a woman of Loango that had lived among theſe animals for three years. They grow from ſix to ſeven feet high, and are of unequalled ſtrength. They build ſheds, and make uſe of clubs for their defence. Their faces are broad, their noſes flat, their ears without a tip, [203] their ſkins are more bright than that of a Mullatoe, and they are covered on many parts of the body with long and tawny coloured hair. Their belly is large, their heels flat, and yet riſing behind. They ſometimes walk upright, and ſometimes upon all fours, when they are phantaſtically diſpoſed.

From this deſcription of the Ouran Outang, we perceive at what a diſtance the firſt animal of the brute creation is placed from the very loweſt of the human ſpecies. Even in countries peopled with ſavages, this creature is conſidered as a beaſt; and in thoſe very places where we might ſuppoſe the ſmalleſt difference between them and mankind, the inhabitants hold it in the greateſt contempt and deteſtation. In Borneo, where this animal has been ſaid to come to its greateſt perfection, the natives hunt it in the ſame manner as they purſue the elephant or the lion, while its reſemblance to the human form procures it neither pity nor protection. The gradations of Nature in the other parts of nature are minute and inſenſible; in the paſſage from quadrupedes to fiſhes we can ſcarce tell where the quadrupede ends and the fiſh begins; in the deſcent from beaſts to inſects we can hardly diſtinguiſh the ſteps of the progreſſion; but in the aſcent from brutes to man, the line is ſtrongly drawn, well [204] marked, and unpaſſable. It is in vain that the Ouran Outang reſembles man in form, or imitates many of his actions; he ſtill continues a wretched, helpleſs creature, pent up in the moſt gloomy part of the foreſt, and, with regard to the proviſion for his own happineſs, inferior even to the elephant or the beaver in ſagacity. To us, indeed, this animal ſeems much wiſer than it really is. As we have long been uſed to meaſure the ſagacity of all actions by their ſimilitude to our own, and not their fitneſs to the animal's way of living, we are pleaſed with the imitations of the ape, even though we know they are far from contributing to the convenience of its ſituation. An ape, or a quadrupede, when under the tramels of human education, may be an admirable object for human curioſity, but is very little advanced by all its learning in the road to its own felicity. On the contrary, I have never ſeen any of theſe long inſtructed animals that did not, by their melancholly air, appear ſenſible of the wretchedneſs of their ſituation. Its marks of ſeeming ſagacity were merely relative to us and not to the animal; and all its boaſted wiſdom was merely of our own making.

Figure 18. The Ouran-Outang.

The animal next to theſe, and to be placed in the ſame claſs, is the Ape, properly ſo called, or the Pithekos of the ancients. This is much leſs than the former, being not above a foot and an half high, but walks erect, is without a tail, and is eaſily tamed.

Figure 19. The long armd Monkey.
Figure 20. The Magot.

The laſt of the ape kind is the Cynocephalus, or the Magot of Buffon. This animal wants a tail, like the former, although there is a ſmall protuberance at that part, which yet is rather formed by the ſkin than the bone. It differs alſo in having a large callous red rump. The face is prominent, and approaches more to that of quadrupedes than of man. The body is covered with a browniſh hair, and yellow on the belly. It is about three feet and an half, or four feet high, and is a native of moſt parts of Africa and the Eaſt. As it recedes from man in its form, ſo alſo it appears different in its diſpoſitions, being ſullen, vicious, and untractable*.

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[207]
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THE BABOON.

[208]

DESCENDING from the more perfect of the monkey kinds, we come to the baboon and its varieties, a large, fierce, and formidable race, that, mixing the figure of the man and the quadrupede in their conformation, ſeem to poſſeſs only the defects of both; the petulance of the one, and the ferocity of the other. Theſe animals have a ſhort tail; a prominent face; with canine teeth, larger than thoſe of men, and calloſſities on the rump*. In man the phyſiognomy may deceive, and the figure of body does not always lead to the qualities of the mind; but in animals we may always judge of their diſpoſitions by their looks, and form a juſt conjecture of their internal habits from their external form. If we compare the nature of the ape and baboon by this eaſy rule, we ſhall at once be led to pronounce that they greatly differ in their diſpoſitions, and that the latter are infinitely more fierce, ſavage and malicious than the former. The ouran outang, that ſo nearly reſembles man in its figure, approaches alſo neareſt in the gentleneſs of its manners and the pliancy of its temper. The cynocephalus, that of all other apes is moſt unlike man in [209] form, and approaches nearer the dog in face, reſembles alſo the brute in nature, being wild, reſtleſs, and impelled by a fretful impetuoſity. But the baboon, who is ſtill more remote, and reſembles man only in having hands, who, from having a tail, a prominent face, and ſharp claws, approaches more nearly to the ſavage tribe, is every way fierce, malicious, ignorant and untractable.

The baboon, properly ſo called, is from three to four feet high, very ſtrong built, with a thick body and limbs, and canine teeth, much longer than thoſe of men. It has large calloſities behind, which are quite naked and red. Its tail is crooked and thick, and about ſeven or eight inches long. Its ſnout, for it can hardly be called a face, is long and thick, and on each ſide of its cheeks it has a pouch, into which, when ſatiated with eating, it puts the remainder of its proviſions. It is covered with long thick hair of a reddiſh brown colour, and pretty uniform over the whole body. It walks more commonly upon all fours than upright, and its hands as well as its feet are armed with long ſharp claws, inſtead of the broad round nails of the ape kind.

An animal thus made for ſtrength, and furniſhed with dangerous weapons, is found in fact [210] to be one of the moſt formidable of the ſavage race, in thoſe countries where it is bred. It appears in its native woods, to be impelled by two oppoſite paſſions; an hatred for the males of the human ſpecies, and a deſire for women. Were we aſſured of theſe ſtrange oppoſitions in its diſpoſition from one teſtimony alone, the account might appear doubtful; but, as it comes from a variety of the moſt credible witneſſes, we cannot refuſe our aſſent. From them, therefore, we learn that theſe animals will often aſſail women in a body, and force them into the woods, where they keep them againſt their will, and kill them when refractory. From the Chevalier Forbin we learn, that in Siam whole troops of theſe will often ſally forth from their foreſts, and attack a village, when they know the men are engaged in their rice harveſt. They are on ſuch occaſions actuated as well by deſire as by hunger; and not only plunder the houſes of whatever proviſions they can find, but endeavour to force the women. Theſe, however, as the Chevalier humourouſly relates, not at all liking either the manners or the figure of the paltry gallants, boldly ſtand on their defence, and with clubs, or whatever other arms they can provide, inſtead of anſwering their careſſes, oblige their ugly ſuitors to retreat; [211] not, however, before they have damaged or plundered every thing eatable they can lay their hands on.

At the Cape of Good Hope they are leſs formidable, but to the beſt of their power equally miſchievous. They are there under a ſort of natural diſcipline, and go about whatever they undertake with ſurprizing ſkill and regularity. When they ſet about robbing an orchard or a vineyard, for they are extremely fond of grapes, apples, and ripe fruit, they do not go ſingly to work, but in large companies, and with preconcerted deliberation. On theſe occaſions, a part of them enter the encloſure, while one is ſet to watch. The reſt ſtand without the fence, and form a line reaching all the way from their fellows within to their rendezvous without, which is generally in ſome craggy mountain. Every thing being thus diſpoſed, the plunderers within the orchard throw the fruit to thoſe that are without as faſt as they can gather it; or, if the wall or hedge be high, to thoſe that ſit on the top; and theſe hand the plunder to thoſe next them on the other ſide. Thus the fruit is pitched from one to another all along the line, till it is ſafely depoſited at their head quarters. They catch it as readily as the moſt ſkilful tennis player can a ball; and while the buſineſs [212] is going forward, which they conduct with great expedition, a moſt profound ſilence is obſerved among them. Their centinel, during this whole time, continues upon the watch, extremely anxious and attentive; but if he perceives any one coming, he inſtantly ſets up a loud cry, and at this ſignal the whole company ſcamper off. Nor yet are they at any time willing to leave the place empty handed; for if they be plundering a bed of melons, for inſtance, they go off with one in their mouths, one in their hands, and one under their arm. If the purſuit is hot, they drop firſt that from under their arm, then that from their hand; and, if it be continued, they at laſt let fall that which they had hitherto kept in their mouths.

The natives of the Cape often take the young of theſe animals, and, feeding them with ſheep and goats milk, accuſtom them to guard their houſes; which duty they perform with great punctuality. Thoſe, however, that have been brought into Europe, are headſtrong, rude, and untractable. Dogs and cats, when they have done any thing wrong, will run off; but theſe ſeem careleſs and inſenſible of the miſchief they do; and I have ſeen one of them break a whole table of china, as it ſhould ſeem by deſign, without appearing in the leaſt conſcious of having [213] done amiſs. It was not, however, in any reſpect ſo formidable as that deſcribed by Mr. Buffon, of which he gives the following deſcription. ‘"It was not," ſays he, "extremely ugly, and yet it excited horror. It continually appeared in a ſtate of ſavage ferocity, gnaſhing its teeth, flying at the ſpectators, and furiouſly reſtleſs. It was obliged to be confined in an iron cage, the bars of which it ſo forcibly attempted to break, that the ſpectators were ſtruck with apprehenſion. It was a ſtocky bold animal, whoſe ſhort limbs and powerful exertions ſhewed vaſt ſtrength and agility. The long hair with which it was covered ſeemed to add to its apparent abilities; which, however, were in reality ſo great, that it could eaſily overcome more than a ſingle man, unleſs armed. As to the reſt, it for ever appeared excited by that paſſion which renders the mildeſt animals at intervals furious. Its laſciviouſneſs was conſtant, and its ſatisfactions particular. Some others alſo of the monkey kind ſhewed the ſame degree of impudence, and particularly in the preſence of women; but, as they were leſs in ſize, their petulance was leſs obvious, and their inſolence more eaſily corrected."’

But, however violent the deſires of theſe animals may be, they are not found to breed [214] in our climate. The female brings forth uſually but one at a time, which ſhe carries in her arms, and in a peculiar manner clinging to her breaſt. As to the reſt, theſe animals are not at all carnivorous; they principally feed upon fruits, roots, and corn, and generally keep together in companies. The internal parts are more unlike thoſe of man than of quadrupedes, particularly the liver, which is like that of a dog divided into ſix lobes. The lungs are more divided, the guts in general are ſhorter, and the kidnies rounder and flatter.

Figure 21. The Wanderow.

The Wanderow is a baboon rather leſs than the former, with the body leſs compact and muſcular, and the hinder parts ſeemingly more feeble. The tail is from ſeven to eight inches long; the muzzle is prominent as in the reſt of this kind; but what particularly diſtinguiſhes it is a large long white head of hair, together with a monſtrous white beard, coarſe, rough, and deſcending; the colour of the reſt of the body being brown or black. As to the reſt, in its ſavage ſtate, it is equally fierce with the others; but, with a proper education, it ſeems more tractable than moſt of its kind, and is chiefly ſeen in the woods of Ceylon and Malabar.

The Maimon of Buffon, which Edwards calls the Pigtail, is the laſt of the baboons, and in ſize rather approaches the monkey, being no larger than a cat. Its chief diſtinction, beſides its prominent muzzle, like a baboon, is in the tail, which is about five or ſix inches long, and curled up like that of an hog; from which circumſtance, peculiar to this animal, our Engliſh naturaliſt gave it the name. It is a native of Sumatra, and does not well endure the rigours of our climate. Edwards, however, kept one [] [...] [215] [...] [216] of them a year in London; and another of them happening at the ſame time to be expoſed in a ſhew of beaſts, he brought the two exiles together, to ſee if they would claim or acknowledge their kindred. The moment they came into each other's preſence, they teſtified their mutual ſatisfaction, and ſeemed quite tranſported at the interview.

THE MONKEY.

THE varieties in the larger tribes of the monkey kind are but few; in the ape we have ſeen but four, and in the baboon about as many. But when we come to the ſmaller claſs, the differences among them ſeem too tedious for enumeration. Theſe, as was obſerved in the beginning, are all ſmall in ſtature, and with long tails, by which they are diſtinguiſhed from the preceding, that entirely want the tail, or are large and have but a ſhort one. The varieties in the form and colour of dogs, or ſquirrels, is nothing to what are found among monkies of the ſmaller kind. Boſman mentions above fifty ſorts on the Gold Coaſt alone, and Smith confirms the account. Condamine aſſerts that it would take up a volume to deſcribe the differences of theſe to be found along the river Amazons; and we are ſure that every one of [217] theſe is very different from thoſe on the African coaſt. Naturaliſts, however, have undertaken to make a catalogue of their numbers; and they either tranſmit their deſcriptions from one to another, or only enumerate thoſe few that have found their way to Europe, and have fallen within the narrow circle of their own obſervation. But, though it may be proper enough to deſcribe ſuch as fall under notice, it is certainly wrong to offer a ſcanty catalogue as complete, and to induce the reader to ſuppoſe he ſees a picture of the whole groupe of theſe animals when he is only preſented with a ſmall part of the number. Such, therefore, as are fond of the reputation of adding new deſcriptions to the ſtock of natural hiſtory, have here a wide, though ſurely a barren, field to enlarge in; and they will find it no difficult matter, by obſerving the various animals of this kind that are from time to time brought from their native coaſts to this country, to indulge in deſcription, and to ring the changes upon all the technical terms with which this moſt pleaſing ſcience is obſcured and rendered diſguſting. For my own part, I will ſpare the reader and myſelf the trouble of entering into an elaborate deſcription of each; content with obſerving once more, that their numbers are very great and their differences [218] very trifling. There is ſcarce a country in the tropical climates that does not ſwarm with them, and ſcarce a foreſt that is not inhabited by a race of monkies diſtinct from all others. Every different wood along the coaſts of Africa may be conſidered as a ſeparate colony of monkies, differing from thoſe of the next diſtrict in colour, in ſize, and malicious miſchief. It is indeed remarkable that the monkies of two cantons are never found to mix with each other, but rigorouſly to obſerve a ſeparation; each foreſt produces only its own; and theſe guard their limits from the intruſion of all ſtrangers of a different race from themſelves. In this they ſomewhat reſemble the human inhabitants of the ſavage nations, among whom they are found, where the petty kingdoms are numerous, and their manners oppoſite. There, in the extent of a few miles, the traveller is preſented with men ſpeaking different languages, profeſſing different religions, governed by different laws, and only reſembling each other in their mutual animoſity.

In general, monkies of all kinds, being leſs than the baboon, are endued with leſs powers of doing miſchief. Indeed, the ferocity of their nature ſeems to diminiſh with their ſize; and when taken wild in the woods, they are ſooner [219] tamed, and more eaſily taught to imitate man than the former. More gentle than the baboon, and leſs grave and ſullen than the ape, they ſoon begin to exert all their ſportive mimickries, and are eaſily reſtrained by correction. But it muſt be confeſſed that they will do nothing they are deſired without beating; for, if their fears be entirely removed, they are the moſt inſolent and headſtrong animals in nature.

In their native woods they are not leſs the peſts of man than of other animals. The monkies, ſays a traveller*, are in poſſeſſion of every foreſt where they reſide, and may be conſidered as the maſters of the place. Neither the tiger, nor the lion itſelf, will venture to diſpute the dominion, ſince theſe, from the tops of trees, continually carry on an offenſive war, and by their agility eſcape all poſſibility of purſuit. Nor have the birds leſs to fear from their continual depredations; for, as theſe harmleſs inhabitants of the wood uſually build upon trees, the monkies are for ever on the watch to find out and rob their neſts; and ſuch is their petulant delight in miſchief, that they will fling their eggs againſt the ground when they want appetite or inclination to devour them.

There is but one animal in all the foreſt that [220] ventures to oppoſe the monkey, and that is the ſerpent. The larger ſnakes are often ſeen winding up the trees where the monkies reſide; and, when they happen to ſurprize them ſleeping, ſwallow them whole before the little animals have time to make a defence. In this manner, the two moſt miſchievous kinds in all nature keep the whole foreſt between them; both equally formidable to each other, and for ever employed in mutual hoſtilities. The monkies in general inhabit the tops of the trees, and the ſerpents cling to the branches nearer the bottom; and in this manner they are for ever ſeen near each other, like enemies in the ſame field of battle. Some travellers, indeed, have ſuppoſed that their vicinity rather argued their mutual friendſhip, and that they united in this manner to form an offenſive league againſt all the reſt of animated nature*. ‘"I have ſeen theſe monkies," ſays Labat, "playing their gambols upon thoſe very branches on which the ſnakes were repoſing, and jumping over them without receiving any injury, although the ſerpents of that country were naturally vindictive, and always ready to bite whatever diſturbed them."’ Theſe gambols, however, were probably nothing more than the inſults of [221] an enemy that was conſcious of its own ſafety; and the monkies might have provoked the ſnake in the ſame manner as we often ſee ſparrows twitter at a cat. However this be, the foreſt is generally divided between them; and theſe woods, which Nature ſeems to have embelliſhed with her richeſt magnificence, rather inſpire terror than delight, and chiefly ſerve as retreats for miſchief and malignity.

The enmity of theſe animals to mankind, is partly ridiculous, and partly formidable. They ſeem, ſays Le Comte and others, to have a peculiar inſtinct in diſcovering their foes; and are perfectly ſkilled, when attacked, in mutually defending and aſſiſting each other. When a traveller enters among theſe woods, they conſider him as an invader upon their dominions, and join all to repel the intruſion. At firſt they ſurvey him with a kind of inſolent curioſity They jump from branch to branch, purſue him as he goes along, and make a loud chattering, to call the reſt of their companions together. They then begin their hoſtilities by grinning, threatening, and flinging down the withered branches at him, which they break from the trees: they even take their excrements in their hands, and throw them at his head. Thus they attend him wherever he goes; [222] jumping from tree to tree with ſuch amazing ſwiftneſs, that the eye can ſcarce attend their motions. Although they take the moſt deſperate leaps, yet they are ſeldom ſeen to come to the ground, for they eaſily faſten upon the branches that break their fall, and ſtick, either by their hands, feet, or tail, wherever they touch. If one of them happens to be wounded, the reſt aſſemble round, and clap their fingers into the wound, as if they were deſirous of ſounding its depth. If the blood flows in any quantity, ſome of them keep it ſhut up, while others get leaves, which they chew, and thruſt into the opening: however extraordinary this may appear, it is aſſerted to be often ſeen, and to be ſtrictly true. In this manner they wage a petulant, unequal war; and are often killed in numbers before they think proper to make a retreat. This they effect with the ſame precipitation with which they at firſt came together. In this retreat the young are ſeen clinging to the back of the female, with which ſhe jumps away, ſeemingly unembarraſſed by the burthen.

The curioſity of the Europeans has, in ſome meaſure, induced the natives of the places where theſe animals reſide, to catch or take them alive by every art they are able. The [223] uſual way in ſuch caſe, is to ſhoot the female as ſhe carries her young, and then both, of courſe, tumble to the ground. But even this is not eaſily performed; for if the animal be not killed outright, it will not fall; but clinging to ſome branch, continues, even when dead, its former graſp, and remains on the tree where it was ſhot, until it drops off by putrefaction: In this manner it is totally loſt to the purſuer; for to attempt climbing the tree, to bring either it or the young one down, would probably be fatal, from the number of ſerpents that are hid among the branches. For this reaſon the ſportſman always takes care to aim at the head; which, if he hits, the monkey falls directly to the ground; and the young one comes down at the ſame time, clinging to its dead parent.

The Europeans along the coaſts of Guniea, often go into the woods to ſhoot monkies; and nothing pleaſes the Negroes more than to ſee thoſe animals drop, againſt which they have the greateſt animoſity. They conſider them, and not without reaſon, as the moſt miſchievous and tormenting creatures in the world; and are happy to ſee their numbers deſtroyed, upon a double account; as well becauſe they dread their devaſtations, as becauſe they love their fleſh. The monkey, which is always ſkinned [224] before it is eaten, when ſerved up at a Negroe feaſt, looks, ſo like a child, that an European is ſhocked at the very ſight. The natives, however, who are not ſo nice, devour it as one of the higheſt delicacies; and aſſiduouſly attend our ſportſmen, to profit by the ſpoil. But what they are chiefly aſtoniſhed at, is to ſee our travellers carefully taking the young ones alive, while they leave them the old ones, that are certainly the moſt fit to be eaten. They cannot comprehend what advantage can ariſe to us from educating or keeping a little animal, that, by experience, they know to be equally fraught with tricks and miſchief: ſome of them have even been led to ſuppoſe, that, with a kind of perverſe affection, we love only creatures of the moſt miſchievous kinds; and having ſeen us often buy young and tame monkies, they have taken equal care to bring rats to our factors, offering them for ſale, and greatly diſappointed at finding no purchaſer for ſo hopeful a commodity*.

The Negroes conſider theſe animals as their greateſt plague; and, indeed, they do incredible damage, when they come in companies to lay waſte a field of Indian corn or rice, or a plantation of ſugar-canes. They carry off as [225] much as they are able; and they deſtroy ten times more than they bear away. Their manner of plundering is pretty much like that of the baboons, already mentioned, in a garden. One of them ſtands centinel upon a tree, while the reſt are plundering, carefully and cautiouſly turning on every ſide, but particularly to that on which there is the greateſt danger: in the mean time, the reſt of the ſpoilers purſue their work with great ſilence and aſſiduity; they are not contented with the firſt blade of corn, or the firſt cane that they happen to lay their hands on: they firſt pull up ſuch as appear moſt alluring to the eye: they turn it round, examine, compare it with others, and if they find it to their mind, ſtick it under one of their ſhoulders. When in this manner they have got their load, they begin to think of retreating: but if it ſhould happen that the owners of the field appear to interrupt their depredations, their faithful centinel inſtantly gives notice, by crying out, houp, houp, houp; which the reſt perfectly underſtand, and all at once throwing down the corn they hold in the left hands, ſcamper off upon three legs, carrying the remainder in the right. If they are ſtill hotly purſued, they then are content to throw down their whole burthen, and to take refuge [226] among their woods, on the tops of which they remain in perfect ſecurity.

Were we to give faith to what ſome travellers aſſure us, of the government, policies, and ſubordination of theſe animals, we might perhaps be taxed with credulity; but we have no reaſon to doubt that they are under a kind of diſcipline, which they exerciſe among each other. They are generally ſeen to keep together in companies, to march in exact order, and to obey the voice of ſome particular chieftain, remarkable for his ſize and gravity. One ſpecies of theſe, which Mr. Buffon calls the Ouarine, and which are remarkable for the loudneſs and the diſtinctneſs of their voice, are ſtill more ſo for the uſe to which they convert it. ‘"I have frequently been a witneſs," ſays Morgrave, "of their aſſemblies and deliberations. Every day, both morning and evening, the ouarines aſſemble in the woods to receive inſtructions. When all come together, one among the number takes the higheſt place on a tree, and makes a ſignal with his hand to the reſt to ſit round, in order to hearken. As ſoon as he ſees them placed, he begins his diſcourſe, with ſo loud a voice, and yet in a manner ſo precipitate, that to hear him at a diſtance, one would think the whole company were crying out at the ſame [227] time: however, during that time, one only is ſpeaking; and all the reſt obſerve the moſt profound ſilence. When this has done, he makes a ſign with the hand for the reſt to reply; and at that inſtant they raiſe their voices together, until by another ſignal of the hand they are enjoined ſilence. This they as readily obey; till, at laſt, the whole aſſembly breaks up, after hearing a repetition of the ſame preachment."’

The chief food of the monkey-tribe is fruits, the buds of trees, or ſucculent roots and plants. They all, like man, ſeem fond of ſweets; and particularly the pleaſant juice of the palm-tree, and the ſugar cane. With theſe the fertile regions in which they are bred, ſeldom fail to ſupply them; but when it happens that theſe fail, or that more nouriſhing food becomes more agreeable, they eat inſects and worms; and, ſometimes, if near the coaſts, deſcend to the ſea-ſhore, where they eat oyſters, crabs, and ſhell fiſh. Their manner of managing an oyſter is extraordinary enough; but it is too well atteſted, to fail of our aſſent. As the oyſters in the tropical climates are generally larger than with us, the monkies, when they go to the ſea-ſide pick up a ſtone, and clap it between the opening ſhells: this prevents them [228] from cloſing; and the monkey then eats the fiſh at his eaſe. They often alſo draw crabs from the water, by putting their tail to the hole where that animal takes refuge, and the crab faſtening upon it, they withdraw it with a jerk, and thus pull their prey upon ſhore. This habit of laying traps for other animals, makes them very cautious of being entrapped themſelves; and I am aſſured, by many perſons of credit, that no ſnare, how nicely baited ſoever, will take the monkey of the Weſt-Indian iſlands; for having been accuſtomed to the cunning of man, it oppoſes its natural diſtruſt to human artifice.

The monkey generally brings forth one at a time, and ſometimes two. They are rarely found to breed when brought over into Europe; but of thoſe that do, they exhibit a very ſtriking picture of parental affection. The male and female are never tired of fondling their young one. They inſtruct it with no little aſſiduity; and often ſeverely correct it, if ſtubborn, or diſinclined to profit by their example: they hand it from one to the other; and when the male has done ſhewing his regard, the female takes her turn. When wild in the woods, the female, if ſhe happens to have two, carries one on her back, and the other in her arms: that [229] on her back clings very cloſely, claſping its hands round her neck, and its feet about her middle; when ſhe wants to ſuckle it, ſhe then alters their poſition; and that which has been fed gives place to the other, which ſhe takes in her arms. It often happens that ſhe is unable to leap from one tree to another, when thus loaden; and upon ſuch occaſions, their dexterity is very ſurprizing. The whole family form a kind of chain, locking tail in tail, or hand in hand, and one of them holding the branch above, the reſt ſwing down, balancing to and fro, like a pendulum, until the undermoſt is enabled to catch hold of the lower branches of ſome neighbouring tree. When the hold is fixed below, the monkey lets go that which was above, and thus comes undermoſt in turn; but, creeping up along the chain, attains the next branches, like the reſt; and thus they all take poſſeſſion of the tree, without ever coming to the ground.

When in a ſtate of domeſtic tameneſs, thoſe animals are very amuſing, and often fill up a vacant hour, when other entertainment is wanting. There are few that are not acquainted with their various mimickries, and their capricious feats of activity. But it is generally in company with other animals of a more ſimple [230] diſpoſition that their tricks and ſuperior inſtincts are ſhewn; they ſeem to take a delight in tormenting them; and I have ſeen one of them amuſing itſelf for hours together, in impoſing upon the gravity of a cat. Eraſmus tells us of a large monkey, kept by Sir Thomas More, that, one day diverting itſelf in his garden, where ſome tame rabbits were kept, played ſeveral of its uſual pranks among them, while the rabbits ſcarce well knew what to make of their new acquaintance: in the mean time, a weaſel, that came for very different purpoſes than thoſe of entertainment, was ſeen peering about the place in which the rabbits were fed, and endeavouring to make its way, by removing a board that cloſed their hutch. While the monkey ſaw no danger, it continued a calm ſpectator of the enemy's efforts; but juſt when, by long labour, the weaſel had effected its purpoſe, and had removed the board, the monkey ſtept in, and, with, the utmoſt dexterity, faſtened it again in its place; and the diſappointed weaſel was too much fatigued to renew its operations. To this I will only add what Father Carli, in his hiſtory of Angola aſſures us to be true. In that horrid country, where he went to convert the ſavage natives to Chriſtianity, and met with nothing [231] but diſtreſs and diſappointment; while his health was totally impaired by the raging heats of the climate, his patience exhauſted by the obſtinacy of the ſtupid natives, and his little proviſions daily plundered, without redreſs, in ſuch an exigency he found more faithful ſervices from the monkies than the men; theſe he had taught to attend him, to guard him, while ſleeping, againſt thieves and rats, to comb his head, to fetch his water; and, he aſſerts, that they were even more tractable than the human inhabitants of the place. It is indeed remarkable, that in thoſe countries where the men are moſt barbarous and ſtupid, the brutes are moſt active and ſagacious. It is in the torrid tracts, inhabited by Barbarians, that ſuch various animals are found with inſtincts ſo nearly approaching reaſon. The ſavages both of Africa and America, accordingly ſuppoſe monkies to be men; idle, ſlothful, rational beings; capable of ſpeech and converſation; but obſtinately dumb, for fear of being compelled to labour.

As of all ſavages, thoſe of Africa are the moſt brutal, ſo, of all countries, the monkies of Africa are the moſt expert and entertaining. The monkies of America are, in general, neither ſo ſagacious nor ſo tractable, nor is their form ſo nearly approaching that of man. [232] The monkies of the new continent, may be very eaſily diſtinguiſhed from thoſe of the old, by three marks. Thoſe of the ancient continent are univerſally found to have a naked callous ſubſtance behind, upon which they ſit; which thoſe of America are entirely without; thoſe alſo of the ancient continent have the noſtrils differently formed, more reſembling thoſe of men, the holes opening downward; whereas the American monkies have them opening on each ſide; thoſe of the ancient world, have pouches on each ſide the jaw, into which they put their proviſions, which thoſe of America are without: laſtly, none of the monkies of the ancient continent hang by the tail, which many of the American ſorts are known to do. By theſe marks the monkies of either continent, may be readily diſtinguiſhed from each other, and prized accordingly. The African monkey, as I am aſſured, requires a longer education, and more correction, than that of America; but it is at laſt found capable of more various powers of imitation; and ſhews a greater degree of cunning and activity.

Mr. Buffon, who has examined this race of imitative beings, with greater accuracy than any other naturaliſt before him, makes but [233] nine ſpecies of monkies belonging to the ancient continent; and eleven belonging to the new. To all theſe he gives the names which they go by, in their reſpective countries; which, undoubtedly, is the method leaſt liable to error, and the moſt proper for imitation.

Of the monkies of the ancient continent, the firſt, he deſcribes, is the Macaguo; ſomewhat reſembling a baboon in ſize, ſtrength of body, and an hideous wrinkled viſage: it differs, however, in having a very long tail, which is covered with tufted hair. It is a native of Congo.

The ſecond is the Patas, which is about the ſame ſize with the former; but differs, in having a longer body, and a face leſs hideous; it is particularly remarkable for the colour of its hair, which is of a red, ſo brilliant, that the animal looks as if it were actually painted. It is uſually brought from Senegal; and by ſome, called the Red African Monkey.

The third of the ancient continent is the Malbrouk; of which he ſuppoſes the monkey which he calls the Bonet Chinois to be a variety. The one is remarkable for a long tail, and long beard; the other, for a cap of hair, that covers the crown of the head, from whence it takes the name. Both are natives of the Eaſt Indies; [234] and the Bramins, who extend their charity to all the brute creation, have hoſpitals for ſuch of them as happen to be ſick, or otherwiſe diſabled.

The fourth of this kind, is the Mangabey; this may be diſtinguiſhed from all others, by its eye-lids, which are naked, and of a ſtriking whiteneſs. It is a native of Madagaſcar.

The fifth is the Mona, or the Cephus of the ancients: it is diſtinguiſhed by its colour, which is variegated with black and red; and its tail is of an aſh-colour, with two white ſpots on each ſide, at its inſertion. It is a native of the northern parts of Africa.

The ſixth is the Callitrix, or Green Monkey of St. Iägo; diſtinguiſhed by its beautiful green colour on the back, its white breaſt and belly, and its black face.

The ſeventh is the Mouſtoc, or White Noſe; diſtinguiſhed by the whiteneſs of its lips, from whence it has received its name, the reſt of the face being of a deep blue. It is a native of the Gold Coaſt, and a very beautiful little animal.

The eighth is the Talapoin; and may be diſtinguiſhed as well by its beautiful variety of green, white, and yellow hair, as by that under the eyes, being of a greater length than the reſt. [235] It is ſuppoſed to be a native of Africa and the eaſt.

The ninth and laſt of the monkies of the ancient continent, is the Douc, ſo called in Cochinchina, of which country it is a native. The douc ſeems to unite the characters of all the former together: with a long tail, like the monkey; of a ſize as large as the baboon; and with a flat face, like the ape: it even reſembles the American monkies, in having no callous on its poſteriors. Thus it ſeems to form the ſhade by which the monkies of one continent are linked with thoſe of the other.

Next come the monkies of the new continent; which, as hath been ſaid, differ from thoſe of the old, in the make of their noſtrils, in their having no calloſity on their poſteriors, and in their having no pouches on each ſide of the jaw. They differ alſo from each other, a part of them making no uſe of their tails to hang by; while others of them have the tail very ſtrong and muſcular, and ſerving by way of a fifth hand to hold by. Thoſe with muſcular holding tails, are called Sapajous; thoſe with feeble, uſeleſs tails, are called Sagoins. Of the ſapajous there are five ſorts: of the ſagoins there are ſix.

The firſt of the ſapajous is the Warine, or [236] the Brazilian Guariba. This monkey is as large as a fox, with black long hair, and remarkable for the loudneſs of its voice. It is the largeſt of the monkey kind to be found in America.

The ſecond is the Coaiti; which may be diſtingtuiſhed from the reſt, by having no thumb, and, conſequently, but four fingers on the two fore paws. The tail, however, ſupplies the defects of the hand; and with this the animal ſlings itſelf from one tree to another, with ſurprizing rapidity.

The third is the Sajou; diſtinguiſhed from the reſt of the ſapajous, by its yellowiſh, fleſh-coloured face.

The fourth is the Sai. It is ſomewhat larger than the ſajou, and has a broader muzzle. It is called alſo the Bewailer; from its peculiar manner of lamenting, when either threatened or beaten.

The fifth and laſt of the ſapajou kind, or monkies that hold by the tail, is the Samiri, or Aurora; which is the ſmalleſt and the moſt beautiful of all. It is of a fine orange colour, with two circles of fleſh round the eyes. It is a very tender, delicate animal, and held in high price.

Of the ſagoins with feeble tails, there are ſix [237] kinds. The firſt and the largeſt, is the Saki, or Cagui; ſo remarkable for the length of the hair on its tail, that it has been often termed the Fox-Tailed Monkey. It is of different ſizes; ſome being twice as large as others.

The ſecond of this kind is the Tamaim; which is uſually black, with the feet yellow. Some, however, are found all over brown, ſpotted with yellow.

The third is the Wiſtiti; remarkable for the large tufts of hair upon its face, and its annulated tail.

The fourth is the Marikina; with a mane round the neck, and a bunch of hair at the end of the tail, like a lion.

The fifth is called the Pinch; with the face of a beautiful black, and white hair that deſcends on each ſide of the face, like that of man.

The laſt, leaſt, and moſt beautiful of all, is the Mico, an animal too curiouſly adorned, not to demand a particular deſcription; which is thus given of it, by Mr. Condamine. ‘"That," ſays he, "which the governor of Para made me a preſent of, was the only one of its kind that was ſeen in the country. The hair on its body was of a beautiful ſilver colour, brighter than that of the moſt venerable human hair: [238] while the tail was of a deep brown, inclining to blackneſs. It had another ſingularity, more remarkable than the former; its ears, its cheeks, and lips, were tinctured with ſo bright a vermillion, that one could ſcarce be led to ſuppoſe that it was natural. I kept it a year; and it was ſtill alive when I made this deſcription of it, almoſt within ſight of the coaſts of France: all I could then do, was to preſerve it in ſpirits of wine, which might ſerve to keep it in ſuch a ſtate, as to ſhew that I did not in the leaſt exaggerate in my deſcription."’

OF THE MAKI.

Figure 22. The Mococo.

The firſt of this kind is the Mococo; a beautiful animal, about the ſize of a common cat, but the body and limbs ſlenderer, and of a longer make. It has a very long tail, at leaſt double the length of its body; it is covered with fur, and marked alternately with broad rings of black and white. But what it is chiefly remarkable for, beſides the form of its hands and feet, is the largeneſs of its eyes, which are ſurrounded with a broad black ſpace; and the length of the hinder legs, which by far exceed [] [...] [239] [...] [240] thoſe before. When it ſleeps, it brings its noſe to its belly, and its tail over its head. When it plays, it uſes a ſort of galloping, with its tail raiſed over its back, which keeps continually in motion. The head is covered with dark aſh-coloured hair; the back and ſides, with a red aſh-colour, and not ſo dark as on the head; and the whole, gloſſy, ſoft and delicate, ſmooth to the touch, and ſtanding almoſt upright, like the pile of velvet. It is a native of Madagaſcar; appears to be an harmleſs gentle animal; and though it reſembles the monkey in many reſpects, it has neither its malice nor its miſchief: nevertheleſs, like the monkey, it ſeems to be always in motion; and moves, like all four-handed animals, in an oblique direction.

A ſecond of this kind, which is alſo a native of Madagaſcar, is the Mongooz; which is leſs than the former; with a ſoft, gloſſy robe, but a little curled. The noſe alſo is thicker than that of the mococo; the eyes are black, with orange-coloured circles round the pupil; and the tail is of one uniform colour. As to the reſt, it is found of various colours; ſome being black, others brown; and its actions ſomewhat reſemble thoſe of a monkey.

The Vari is much larger than either of the [241] former; its hair is much longer, and it has a kind of ruff round the neck, conſiſting of very long hair, by which it may be eaſily diſtinguiſhed from the reſt. It differs alſo in its diſpoſition, which is fierce and ſavage; as alſo in the loudneſs of its voice, which ſomewhat reſembles the roaring of the lion. This alſo is a native of Madagaſcar.

To this tribe we may refer a little four-handed animal, of the iſland of Ceylon, which Mr. Buffon calls the Lori; very remarkable for the ſingularity of its figure. This is, of all other animals, the longeſt, in proportion to its ſize; having nine vertebrae in the loins; whereas other quadrupedes have only ſeven*. The body appears ſtill the longer, by having no tail. In other reſpects, it reſembles thoſe of the maki kind; as well in its hands and feet, as in its ſnout, and in the gloſſy qualities of its hair. It is about the ſize of a ſquirrel; and appears to be a tame, harmleſs little animal.

OF THE OPPOSSUM, AND ITS KINDS.

TO theſe four-handed animals of the ancient continent, we may add the four-handed [242] animals of the new, that uſe their hands like the former, as well as their tails, and that fill up the chaſm between the monkey tribe and the lower orders of the foreſt. As the maki kind in ſome meaſure ſeem to unite the fox and the monkey in their figure and ſize, ſo theſe ſeem to unite the monkey and the rat. They are all leſs than the former; they have long tails, almoſt bare of hair; and their fur, as well as their ſhape, ſeems to place them near the rat kind. Some have accordingly ranked them in that claſs; but their being four-handed, is a ſufficient reaſon for placing them in the rear of the monkies.

Figure 23. The Opoſsum.

But that which diſtinguiſhes this animal from all others, and what has excited the wonder of mankind for more than two centuries, is the extraordinary conformation of its belly, as it is found to have a falſe womb, into which the young, when brought forth in the uſual manner, creep, and continue for ſome days longer, to lodge and ſuckle ſecurely. This bag, if we may ſo call it, being one of the moſt extraordinary things in natural hiſtory, requires a more minute deſcription. Under the belly of the female is a kind of ſlit or opening, of about three inches long; this opening is compoſed of a ſkin, which makes a bag internally, which is covered on the inſide with hair, and in this bag are the teats of the female; and into it the young, when brought forth, retire, either to ſuckle or to eſcape from danger. This bag has a power of opening and ſhutting, at the will of the animal; and this is performed by means of ſeveral muſcles, and two bones, that are fitted for this purpoſe, and that are peculiar to this animal [244] only. Theſe two bones are placed before the os pubis, to which they are joined at the baſe; they are about two inches long, and grow ſmaller and ſmaller to their extremities. Theſe ſupport the muſcles that ſerve to open the bag, and give them a fixture To theſe muſcles there are antagoniſts, that ſerve, in the ſame manner, to ſhut the bag; and this they perform ſo exactly, that in the living animal the opening can ſcarce be diſcerned, except when the ſides are forcibly drawn aſunder. The inſide of this bag is furniſhed with glands, that exſude a muſky ſubſtance, which communicates to the fleſh of the animal, and renders, it unfit to be eaten. It is not to be ſuppoſed that this is the place where the young are conceived, as ſome have been led to imagine; for the oppoſſum has another womb, like that of the generality of animals, in which generation is performed in the ordinary manner. The bag we have been deſcribing, may rather be conſidered as a ſupplemental womb. In the real womb, the little animal is partly brought to perfection; in the ordinary one, it receives a kind of additional, incubation; and acquires, at laſt, ſtrength enough to follow the dam wherever ſhe goes. We have many reaſons to ſuppoſe that the [245] young of this animal are all brought forth prematurely, or before they have acquired that degree of perfection, which is common in other quadrupedes. The little ones, when firſt produced, are in a manner but half completed; and ſome travellers aſſert, that they are, at that time, not much larger than flies. We are aſſured alſo, that immediately on quitting the real womb, they creep into the falſe one; where they continue fixed to the teat, until they have ſtrength ſufficient to venture once more into the open air, and ſhare the fatigues of the parent. Ulloa aſſures us, that he has found five of theſe little creatures hidden in the belly of the dam three days after ſhe was dead, ſtill alive, and all clinging to the teat with great avidity. It is probable, therefore, that upon their firſt entering the falſe womb, they ſeldom ſtir out from thence; but when more advanced, they venture forth ſeveral times in the day; and, at laſt, ſeldom make uſe of their retreat, except in caſes of neceſſity or danger. Travellers are not agreed in their accounts of the time which theſe animals take to continue in the falſe womb; ſome aſſure us, they remain there for ſeveral weeks; and others, more preciſely mention a month. During this [246] period of ſtrange geſtation, there is no difficulty in opening the bag in which they are concealed; they may be reckoned, examined, and handled, without much inconvenience; for they keep fixed to the teat, and cling there as firm as if they made a part of the body of the animal that bears them. When they are grown ſtronger, they drop from the teat into the bag in which they are contained; and, at laſt, find their way out, in ſearch of more copious ſubſiſtence. Still, however, the falſe belly ſerves them for a retreat; either when they want to ſleep or to ſuckle, or when they are purſued by an enemy. The dam, on ſuch occaſions, opens her bag to receive them, which they enter,

—Pars formidine turpi
Scandunt rurſus equum et nota conduntur in alvo.

The Oppoſſum, when on the ground, is a ſlow, helpleſs animal; the formation of its hands, are alone ſufficient to ſhew its incapacity of running with any degree of ſwiftneſs: but, to counterbalance this inconvenience, it climbs trees with great eaſe and expedition*. It chiefly ſubſiſts upon birds; and hides among the leaves of the trees, to ſeize them by ſurprize. It often alſo hangs by the tail, which is long and [247] muſcular; and, in this ſituation, for hours together, with the head downwards, it keeps watching for its prey. If any leſſer animal, which it is able to overcome, paſſes underneath, it drops upon it with deadly aim, and quickly devours it. By means of its tail, the oppoſſum alſo ſlings from one tree to another, hunts inſects, eſcapes its purſuers, and provides for its ſafety. It ſeems to be a creature that lives upon vegetables, as well as animal ſubſtances, roots, ſugar-canes, the bark, and even the leaves of trees. It is eaſily tamed, but it is a diſagreeable domeſtic, as well from its ſtupidity and figure, as its ſcent, which, however fragrant in ſmall quantities, fails not to be ungrateful when copiouſly ſupplied.

An animal greatly reſembling the former*, is the Marmoſe, which is found in the ſame continent. It ſeems only to differ in ſize, being leſs; and, inſtead of a bag to receive its young, has only two longitudinal folds near the thighs, within which, the young, which are prematurely brought forth, as in the laſt inſtance, continue to ſuckle. The young of theſe, when firſt produced, are not above the ſize of a bean; but continue ſticking to the [248] teat, until they have arrived at greater maturity.

The Cayopolin is ſomewhat larger than the former; and a good deal reſembling it in habits and figure, except that its ſnout is more pointed, its tail longer in proportion, and its colour different, being of an aſh, ſomewhat inclining to yellow; however, I ſhould ſuppoſe it to be only a variety of the former.

To this number we may add the Phalanger, ſo called by Mr. Buffon; a good deal reſembling the former, but diſtinguiſhed by the faſhion of its hinder hands: the thumb and the fore finger being joined together, except at the extremities. This animal is about the ſize of a rat; and has, accordingly, by ſome, been called the Rat of Surinam.

Figure 24. The Cayopolin.
Figure 25. The Tarſier.

From this general deſcription of four-handed animals, we perceive what few advantages the brute creation derive from thoſe organs that, in man, are employed to ſo many great and uſeful purpoſes. The being able to pluck their food from the trees, the capacity of clinging among the branches, or at moſt of converting one of thoſe branches into a weapon of offence, are the higheſt ſtretches of their ſagacity, and the only uſe their hands have hitherto been employed in: and yet, ſome ſuperficial men have aſſerted, that the hands alone are ſufficient to vindicate the dominion of mankind over other animals; and that much of his boaſted reaſon, is nothing more than the reſult of his happier conformation: however, were this ſo, an ape or a monkey would in ſome inſtances be more rational than we; their fingers are ſmaller, and, in ſome of them, more finely formed than ours. To what a variety of purpoſes might they not be employed, if their powers were properly exerted! Thoſe works which we, from the largeneſs [250] of our fingers, are obliged to go clumſily about, one of theſe could very eaſily perform with the utmoſt exactneſs; and if the fineneſs of the hand aſſiſted reaſon, an ape would be one of the moſt reaſonable beings in the creation. But theſe admirably formed machines, are almoſt uſeleſs both to mankind and themſelves; and contribute little more to the happineſs of animal life, than the paws of the loweſt quadrupede. They are ſupplied, indeed, with the organs; but they want the mind, to put them into action: it is that reaſoning principle alone, with which man has been endowed, that can adapt ſeemingly oppoſite cauſes, to concur in the ſame general deſign; and even where the organs are deficient, that can ſupply their place, by the intervention of aſſiſting inſtruments. Where reaſon prevails, we find that it ſcarcely matters what the organs are that give it the direction; the being furniſhed with that principle, ſtill goes forward, ſteadily and uniformly ſucceſsful; breaks through every obſtacle, and becomes maſter of every enterprize. I have ſeen a man, without hands or legs, convert, by practice, his very ſtumps to the moſt convenient purpoſes; and with theſe clumſy inſtruments, perform the moſt aſtoniſhing feats of [251] dexterity. We may therefore, conclude, that it is the mind alone that gives a maſter to the creation; and that, if a bear or an horſe were endowed with the ſame intelects that have been given to man, the hardneſs of an hoof, or the aukwardneſs of a paw, would be no obſtacle to their advancement in the arts of dominion, or of ſocial felicity.

CHAP. VIII. Of the Elephant.

[253]

HAVING gone through the deſcription of thoſe quadrupedes that, by reſembling each other in ſome ſtriking particular, admit of being grouped together and conſidered under one point of view, we now come to thoſe inſulated ſorts that bear no ſimilitude with the reſt, and that to be diſtinctly deſcribed muſt be ſeparately conſidered.

Figure 26. The Elephant.

The elephant is ſeen from ſeven to no leſs than fifteen feet high. Whatever care we take to imagine a large animal beforehand, yet the firſt ſight of this huge creature never fails to ſtrike us with aſtoniſhment, and in ſome meaſure to exceed our idea. Having been uſed to ſmaller animals, we have ſcarce any conception of its magnitude; for a moving column of fleſh, fourteen feet high, is an object ſo utterly different from thoſe we are conſtantly preſented with, that to be conceived it muſt be actually ſeen. Such, I own, were the ſuggeſtions that naturally aroſe to me when I firſt ſaw this animal, and yet for the ſight of which I had taken care to prepare my imagination. I found my ideas fall as ſhort of its real ſize as they did of its real figure; neither the pictures I had ſeen, nor the deſcriptions I had read, giving me adequate conceptions of either.

It would, therefore, be impoſſible to give an idea of this animal's figure by a deſcription; which, even aſſiſted by the art of the engraver, will but confuſedly repreſent the original. In general it may be obſerved, that the forehead is [254] very high and riſing, the ears very large and dependant, the eyes extremely ſmall, the proboſcis, or trunk, long, the body round and full, the back riſing in an arch, and the whole animal ſhort in proportion to its height. The feet are round at the bottom; on each foot there are five flat horny riſings, which ſeem to be the extremities of the toes, but do not appear outwardly. The hide is without hair, full of ſcratches and ſcars, which it receives in its paſſage through thick woods and thorny places. At the end of the tail there is a tuft of hair, a foot and a half long. The female is leſs than the male, and the udder is between the forelegs. But a more accurate, as well as a more entertaining deſcription of the parts, will naturally occur in the hiſtory of their uſes.

Of all quadrupedes, the elephant is the ſtrongeſt, as well as the largeſt; and yet, in a ſtate of nature, it is neither fierce nor formidable*. Mild, peaceful, and brave, it never abuſes its power or its ſtrength, and only uſes its force for its own protection, or that of its community. In its native deſarts, the elephant is ſeldom ſeen alone, but appears to be a ſocial [255] friendly creature. The oldeſt of the company conducts the band; that which is next in ſeniority brings up the rear. The young, the weak, and the ſickly, fall into the center; while the females carry their young, and keep them from falling by means of their trunks. They maintain this order only in dangerous marches, or when they deſire to feed in cultivated grounds; they move with leſs precaution in the foreſts and ſolitudes; but without ever ſeparating, or removing ſo far aſunder as to be incapable of lending each other any requiſite aſſiſtance. Nothing can be more formidable than a drove of elephants as they appear at a diſtance in an African landſcape; wherever they march, the foreſt ſeems to fail before them; in their paſſage, they bear down the branches upon which they feed; and, if they enter into an incloſure, they deſtroy all the labours of the huſbandman in a very ſhort time. Their invaſions are the more diſagreeable as there is no means of repelling them; ſince it would require a ſmall army to attack the whole drove when united. It now and then happens that one or two is found lingering behind the reſt, and it is againſt theſe that the art and force of the hunters are united; but an attempt to moleſt the whole body would certainly be fatal. They [256] go forward directly againſt him who offers the inſult, ſtrike him with their tuſks, ſeize him with their trunks, fling him into the air, and then trample him to pieces under their feet. But they are thus dreadful only when offended, and do no manner of perſonal injury when ſuffered to feed without interruption. It is even ſaid that they are mindful of injuries received; and, when once moleſted by man, ſeek all occaſions for the future to be revenged; they ſmell him with their long trunks at a diſtance; follow him with all their ſpeed upon the ſcent; and, though ſlow to appearance, they are ſoon able to come up with and deſtroy him.

In their natural ſtate, they delight to live along the ſides of rivers, to keep in the deepeſt vales, to refreſh themſelves in the moſt ſhady foreſts and watery places. They cannot live far from the water; and they always diſturb it before they drink. They often fill their trunk with it, either to cool that organ, or to divert themſelves by ſpurting it out like a fountain. They are equally diſtreſſed by the extremes of heat and cold; and, to avoid the former, they frequently take ſhelter in the moſt obſcure receſſes of the foreſt, or often plunge into the water, and even ſwim from the continent into iſlands ſome leagues diſtant from the ſhore.

[256]
[...]
Figure 27. The Lori.

[257]Their chief food is of the vegetable kind, for they loath all kind of animal diet. When one among their number happens to light upon a ſpot of good paſture, he calls the reſt, and invites them to ſhare in the entertainment; but it muſt be a very copious paſture indeed that can ſupply the neceſſities of the whole band. As with their broad and heavy feet they ſink deep wherever they go, they deſtroy much more than they devour; ſo that they are frequently obliged to change their quarters, and to migrate from one country to another. The Indians and Negroes, who are often incommoded by ſuch viſitants, do all they can to keep them away, making loud noiſes, and large fires round their cultivated grounds; but theſe precautions do not always ſucceed; the elephants often break through their fences, deſtroy their whole harveſt, and overturn their little habitations. When they have ſatisfied themſelves, and trod down or devoured whatever lay in their way, they then retreat into the woods in the ſame orderly manner in which they made their irruption.

Such are the habits of this animal conſidered in a ſocial light; and, if we regard it as an individual, we ſhall find its powers ſtill more extraordinary. With a very aukward appearance, [] [...] [257] [...] [258] it poſſeſſes all the ſenſes in great perfection, and is capable of applying them to more uſeful purpoſes than any other quadrupede. The elephant, as we obſerved, has very ſmall eyes, when compared to the enormous bulk of its body. But, though their minuteneſs may at firſt ſight appear deformed, yet, when we come to examine them, they are ſeen to exhibit a variety of expreſſion, and to diſcover the various ſenſations with which it is moved. It turns them with attention and friendſhip to its maſter; it ſeems to reflect and deliberate; and as its paſſions ſlowly ſucced each other, their various workings are diſtinctly ſeen.

The elephant is not leſs remarkable for the excellence of its hearing. Its ears are extremely large, and greater in proportion than even thoſe of an aſs. They are uſually dependent; but it can readily raiſe and move them. They ſerve alſo to wipe its eyes, and to protect them againſt the duſt and flies that might otherwiſe incommode them. It appears delighted with muſic, and very readily learns to beat time, to move in meaſure, and even to join its voice to the ſound of the drum and the trumpet.

This animal's ſenſe of ſmelling is not only exquiſite, but it is in a great meaſure pleaſed with the ſame odours that delight mankind. [259] The elephant gathers flowers with great pleaſure and attention; it picks them up one by one, unites them into a noſegay, and ſeems charmed with the perfume. The orange flower ſeems to be particularly grateful both to its ſenſe of taſte and ſmelling; it ſtrips the tree of all its verdure, and eats every part of it, even to the branches themſelves. It ſeeks in the meadows the moſt odoriferous plants to feed upon; and in the woods it prefers the coco, the banana, the palm, and the ſago tree, to all others. As the ſhoots of theſe are tender and filled with pith; it eats not only the leaves and the fruits, but even the branches, the trunk, and the whole plant to the very roots.

But it is in the ſenſe of touching that this animal excels all others of the brute creation, and perhaps even man himſelf. The organ of this ſenſe lies wholly in the trunk, which is an inſtrument peculiar to this animal, and that ſerves it for all the purpoſes of an hand. The trunk is, properly ſpeaking, only the ſnout lengthened out to a great extent, hollow like a pipe, and ending in two openings, or noſtrils, like thoſe of an hog. An elephant of fourteen feet high has the trunk about eight feet long and five feet and an half in circumference at the mouth, where it is thickeſt. It is hollow [260] all along, but with a partition running from one end of it to the other; ſo that though outwardly it appears like a ſingle pipe, it is inwardly divided into two. This fleſhy tube is compoſed of nerves and muſcles, covered with a proper ſkin of a blackiſh colour, like that of the reſt of the body. It is capable of being moved in every direction, of being lengthened and ſhortened, of being bent or ſtreightened, ſo pliant as to embrace any body it is applied to, and yet ſo ſtrong that nothing can be torn from the gripe. To aid the force of this graſp, there are ſeveral little eminences, like a caterpillar's feet, on the underſide of this inſtrument, which without doubt contribute to the ſenſibility of the touch as well as to the firmneſs of the hold. Through this trunk the animal breathes, drinks, and ſmells, as through a tube; and at the very point of it, juſt above the noſtrils, there is an extenſion of the ſkin, about five inches long, in the form of a finger, and which in fact anſwers all the purpoſes of one; for, with the reſt of the extremity of the trunk, it is capable of aſſuming different forms at will, and conſequently of being adapted to the minuteſt objects. By means of this, the elephant can take a pin from the ground, untie the knots of a rope, unlock a door, and even write with [261] a pen. ‘"I have myſelf ſeen," ſays Aelian, "an elephant writing Latin characters on a board, in a very orderly manner, his keeper only ſhewing him the figure of each letter. While thus employed, the eyes might be obſerved ſtudiouſly caſt down upon the writing, and exhibiting an appearance of great ſkill and erudition."’ It ſometimes happens that the object is too large for the trunk to graſp; in ſuch a caſe the elephant makes uſe of another expedient as admirable as any of the former. It applies the extremity of the trunk to the ſurface of the object, and, ſucking up its breath, lifts and ſuſtains ſuch a weight as the air in that caſe is capable of keeping ſuſpended. In this manner this inſtrument is uſeful in moſt of the purpoſes of life; it is an organ of ſmelling, of touching, and of ſuction; it not only provides for the animal's neceſſities and comforts, but it alſo ſerves for its ornament and defence.

But, though the elephant be thus admirably ſupplied by its trunk, yet, with reſpect to the reſt of its conformation, it is unwieldy and helpleſs. The neck is ſo ſhort that it can ſcarce turn the head, and muſt wheel round in order to diſcover an enemy from behind. The hunters that attack it upon that quarter, generally thus eſcape the effects of its indignation; and [262] find time to renew their aſſaults while the elephant is turning to face them The legs are, indeed, not ſo inflexible as the neck, yet they are very ſtiff and bend not without difficulty. Thoſe before ſeem to be longer than the hinder; but, upon being meaſured, are found to be ſomething ſhorter. The joints, by which they bend, are nearly in the middle, like the knee of a man; and the great bulk which they are to ſupport makes their flexure ungainly. While the elephant is young, it bends the legs to lie down or to riſe; but when it grows old, or ſickly, this is not performed without human aſſiſtance; and it becomes, conſequently, ſo inconvenient, that the animal chuſes to ſleep ſtanding. The feet, upon which theſe maſſy columns are ſupported; form a baſe ſcarce broader than the legs they ſuſtain. They are divided into five toes, which are covered beneath the ſkin, and none of which appear to the eye; a kind of protuberance like claws are only obſerved, which vary in number from three to five. The apparent claws vary; the internal toes are conſtantly the ſame. The ſoal of the foot is furniſhed with a ſkin as thick and hard as horn, and which completely covers the whole under part of the foot.

To the reſt of the elephant's incumbrances may [263] be added its enormous tuſks, which are unſerviceable for chewing, and are only weapons of defence. Theſe, as the animal grows old, become ſo heavy, that it is ſometimes obliged to make holes in the walls of its ſtall to reſt them in, and eaſe itſelf of the fatigue of their ſupport. It is well known to what an amazing ſize theſe tuſks grow; they are two in number, proceeding from the upper jaw, and are ſometimes found above ſix feet long. Some have ſuppoſed them to be rather the horns than the teeth of this animal; but, beſides their greater ſimilitude to bone than to horn, they have been indiſputably found to grow from the upper jaw, and not from the frontal bones, as ſome have thought proper to aſſert*. Some alſo have aſſerted, that theſe tuſks are ſhed in the ſame manner as the ſtag ſheds its horns; but it is very probable, from their ſolid conſiſtence, and from their accidental defects, which often appears to be the effect of a ſlow decay, that they are as fixt as the teeth of other animals are generally found to be. Certain it is that the elephant never ſheds them in a domeſtic ſtate, but keeps them till they become inconvenient and cumbrous to the laſt degree. An account of uſes to which theſe [264] teeth are applied, and the manner of chuſing the beſt ivory, belongs rather to an hiſtory of the arts than of nature.

This animal is equally ſingular in other parts of its conformation; the lips and the tongue in other creatures ſerve to ſuck up and direct their drink or their food; but in the elephant they are totally inconvenient for ſuch purpoſes; and it not only gathers its food with its trunk, but ſupplies itſelf with water by the ſame means. When it eats hay, as I have ſeen it frequently, it takes up a ſmall wiſp of it with the trunk, turns and ſhapes it with that inſtrument for ſome time, and then directs it into the mouth, where it is chewed by the great grinding teeth, that are large in proportion to the bulk of the animal. This pacquet, when chewed, is ſwallowed, and never ruminated again as in cows or ſheep, the ſtomach and inteſtines of this creature more reſembling thoſe of an horſe. Its manner of drinking is equally extraordinary. For this purpoſe, the elephant dips the end of its trunk into the water, and ſucks up juſt as much as fills that great fleſhy tube compleatly. It then lifts up its head with the trunk full, and turning the point into its mouth, as if it intended to ſwallow trunk and all, it drives the point below the opening of the wind-pipe. The trunk being [265] in this poſition and ſtill full of water, the elephant then blows ſtrongly into it at the other end, which forces the water it contains into the throat, down which it is heard to pour with a loud gurgling noiſe, which continues till the whole is blown down. From this manner of drinking, ſome have been led into an opinion that the young elephant ſucks with its trunk and not with its mouth; this, however, is a fact which no traveller has hitherto had an opportunity of ſeeing, and it muſt be referred to ſome future accident to determine.

The hide of the elephant is as remarkable as any other part. It is not covered over with hair as in the generality of quadrupedes, but is nearly bare. Here and there indeed, a few briſtles are ſeen growing in the ſcars and wrinkles of the body, and very thinly ſcattered over the reſt of the ſkin; but in general the head is dry, rough, and wrinkled, and reſembling more the bark of an old tree than the ſkin of an animal. This grows thicker every year; and, by a conſtant addition of ſubſtance, it at length contracts that diſorder well known by the name of the elephantiaſis, or Arabian leproſy; a diſeaſe to which man, as well as the elephant, is often ſubject. In order to prevent this, the Indians rub the elephant with oil, and frequently bathe [266] it to preſerve its pliancy. To the inconveniences of this diſorder is added another, ariſing from the great ſenſibility of thoſe parts that are not callous. Upon theſe the flies ſettle in great abundance, and torment this animal unceaſingly; to remedy which, the elephant tries all its arts; uſes not only its tail and trunk in the natural manner to keep them off, but even takes the branch of a tree, or a bundle of hay, to ſtrike them off with. When this fails, it often gathers up the duſt with its trunk, and thus covers all the ſenſible places. In this manner it has been ſeen to duſt itſelf ſeveral times a day, and particularly upon leaving the bath.

Water is as neceſſary to this animal as food itſelf. When in a ſtate of nature, the elephant rarely quits the banks of the river, and often ſtands in water up to the belly. In a ſtate of ſervitude, the Indians take equal care to provide a proper ſupply; they waſh it with great addreſs; they give it all the conveniences for lending aſſiſtance to itſelf; they ſmooth the ſkin with a pumice ſtone, and then rub it over with oils, eſſences, and odours.

It is not to be wondered at that an animal furniſhed with ſo many various advantages, both of ſtrength, ſagacity, and obedience, ſhould be taken into the ſervice of man. We accordingly [267] find that the elephant, from time immemorial, has been employed either for the purpoſes of labour, of war, or of oſtentation; to encreaſe the grandeur of eaſtern princes, or to extend their dominions. We have hitherto been deſcribing this animal in its natural ſtate; we now come to conſider it in a different view, as taken from the foreſt and reduced to human obedience. We are now to behold this brave harmleſs creature as learning a leſſon from mankind, and inſtructed by him in all the arts of war, maſſacre, and devaſtation. We are now to behold this half reaſoning animal led into the field of battle, and wondering at thoſe tumults and that madneſs which he is compelled to encreaſe. The elephant is a native of Africa and Aſia, being found neither in Europe nor America. In Africa he ſtill retains his natural liberty. The ſavage inhabitants of that part of the world, inſtead of attempting to ſubdue this powerful creature to their neceſſities, are happy in being able to protect themſelves from his fary. Formerly, indeed, during the ſplendour of the Carthaginian empire, elephants were uſed in their wars; but this was only a tranſitory gleam of human power in that part of the globe; the natives of Africa have long ſince degenerated, and the elephant is only known among them [268] from his devaſtations. However, there are no elephants in the northern parts of Africa at preſent, there being none found on this ſide of Mount Atlas. It is beyond the river Senegal that they are to be met with in great numbers, and ſo down to the Cape of Good Hope, as well as in the heart of the country. In this extenſive region they appear to be more numerous than in any other part of the world. They are there leſs fearful of man; leſs retired into the heart of the foreſts, they ſeem to be ſenſible of his impotence and ignorance; and often come down to ravage his little labours. They treat him with the ſame haughty diſdain which they ſhew to other animals, and conſider him as a miſchievous little being, that fears to oppoſe them openly.

But, although theſe animals are moſt plentiful in Africa, it is only in Aſia that the greateſt elephants are found, and rendered ſubſervient to human command. In Africa, the largeſt do not exceed ten feet high; in Aſia they are found from ten to fifteen. Their price encreaſes in proportion to their ſize; and when they exceed a certain bulk, like jewels, their value then riſes as the fancy is pleaſed to eſtimate.

The largeſt are entirely kept for the ſervice [269] of princes; and are maintained with the utmoſt magnificence, and at the greateſt expence. The uſual colour of the elephant is a duſky black, but ſome are ſaid to be white; and the price of one of theſe is ineſtimable. Such a one is peculiarly appropriated for the monarch's own riding; he is kept in a palace, attended by the nobles, and almoſt adored by the people*. Some have ſaid that theſe white elephants are larger than the reſt; others aſſert, that they are leſs; and ſtill others entirely doubt their exiſtence.

As the art of war is but very little improved in Aſia, there are few princes of the eaſt who do not procure and maintain as many elephants as they are able, and place great confidence on their aſſiſtance in an engagement. For this purpoſe, they are obliged to take them wild in their native foreſts, and tame them; for the elephant never breeds in a ſtate of ſervitude. It is one of the moſt ſtriking peculiarities in this extraordinary creature, that his generative powers totally fail when he comes under the dominion of man; as if he ſeemed unwilling to propagate a race of ſlaves, to encreaſe the pride of his conqueror. There is, perhaps, no other quadrupede that will not breed in its own native climate, if [270] indulged with a moderate ſhare of freedom; and we know, that many of them will copulate in every climate. The elephant alone has never been ſeen to breed; and though he has been reduced under the obedience of man for ages, the duration of pregnancy, in the female*, ſtill remains a ſecret. Ariſtotle, indeed, aſſerts, that ſhe goes two years with young; that ſhe continues to ſuckle her young for three years, and that ſhe brings forth but one at a time: but he does not inform us of the manner in which it was poſſible for him to have his information. From authorities equally doubtful, we learn, that the little one is about as large as a wild boar, the inſtant it is brought forth; that its tuſks do not yet appear; but that all the reſt of its teeth are apparent; that, at the age of ſix months, it is as large as an ox, and its tuſks pretty well grown; and that it continues, in this manner, for near thirty years, advancing to maturity. All this is doubtful; but it is certain, that, in [271] order to recruit the numbers which are conſumed in war, the princes of the eaſt are every year obliged to ſend into the foreſts, and to uſe various methods to procure a freſh ſupply. Of all theſe numerous bands, there is not one that has not been originally wild; nor one that has not been forced into a ſtate of ſubjection. Men themſelves are often content to propagate a race of ſlaves, that paſs down in this wretched ſtate through ſucceſſive generations; but the elephant, under ſubjection, is unalterably barren; perhaps from ſome phyſical cauſes, which are as yet unknown.

The Indian princes having vainly endeavoured to multiply the breed of elephants, like that of other animals, have been, at laſt, content to ſeparate the males from the females, to prevent thoſe acceſſes of deſire, which debilitated, without multiplying the ſpecies. In order to take them wild in the woods, a ſpot of ground is fixed upon, which is ſurrounded with a ſtrong palliſade. This is made of the thickeſt and the ſtrongeſt trees; and ſtrengthened by croſs bars, which give firmneſs to the whole. The poſts are fixed at ſuch diſtances from each other, that a man can eaſily paſs between them; there being only one great paſſage left open, through which an elephant can eaſily come; and [272] which is ſo contrived as to ſhut behind, as ſoon as the beaſt is entered. To draw him into this encloſure, it is neceſſary firſt to find him out in the woods; and a female elephant is conducted along into the heart of the foreſt, where it is obliged by its keeper to cry out for the male. The male very readily anſwers the cry, and haſtens to join her; which the keeper perceiving, obliges her to retreat, ſtill repeating the ſame cry, until ſhe leads the animal into the encloſure already deſcribed, which ſhuts the moment he is entered. Still, however, the female proceeds calling, and inviting, while the male proceeds forward in the encloſure, which grows narrower all the way, and until the poor animal finds himſelf completely ſhut up, without the power of either advancing or retreating; the female, in the mean time, being let out by a private way, which ſhe has been previouſly accuſtomed to. The wild elephant, upon ſeeing himſelf entrapped in this manner, inſtantly attempts to uſe violence; and, upon ſeeing the hunters, all his former deſires only turn to fury. In the mean time, the hunters, having fixed him with cords, attempt to ſoften his indignation, by throwing buckets of water upon him in great quantities, rubbing the body with leaves, and pouring oil down his ears. Soon [273] after, two tame elephants are brought, a male and a female, that careſs the indignant animal with their trunks; while they ſtill continue pouring water to refreſh it. At laſt, a tame elephant is brought forward, of that number which is employed in inſtructing the new comers, and an officer riding upon it, in order to ſhew the late captive that it has nothing to fear. The hunters then open the encloſure; and, while this creature leads the captive along, two more are joined on either ſide of it, and theſe compel it to ſubmit. It is then tied by cords to a maſſy pillar provided for that purpoſe, and ſuffered to remain in that poſition for about a day and a night, until its indignation be wholly ſubſided. The next day it begins to be ſomewhat ſubmiſſive; and, in a fortnight, is completely tamed like the reſt. The females are taken when accompanying the males; they often come into theſe encloſures, and they ſhortly after ſerve as decoys to the reſt. But this method of taking the elephant, differs, according to the abilities of the hunter; the Negroes of Africa, who hunt this animal merely for its fleſh, are content to take it in pitfalls; and often to purſue it in the defiles of a mountain, where it cannot eaſily turn, and ſo wound it from behind till it falls.

[274]The elephant, when once tamed, becomes the moſt gentle and obedient of all animals. It ſoon conceives an attachment for the perſon that attends it, careſſes him, obeys him, and ſeems to anticipate his deſires. In a ſhort time it begins to comprehend ſeveral of the ſigns made to it, and even the different ſounds of the voice; it perfectly diſtinguiſhes the tone of command from that of anger or approbation, and it acts accordingly. It is ſeldom deceived in its maſter's voice; it receives his orders with attention, and executes them with prudence, eagerly, yet without precipitation. All its motions are regulated; and its actions ſeem to partake of its magnitude; being grave, majeſtic, and ſecure. It is quickly taught to kneel down, to receive its rider; it careſſes thoſe it knows with its trunk; with this ſalutes ſuch as it is ordered to diſtinguiſh, and with this, as with an hand, helps to take up a part of its load. It ſuffers itſelf to be arrayed in harneſs; and ſeems to take a pleaſure in the finery of its trappings. It draws either chariots, cannon, or ſhipping, with ſurprizing ſtrength and perſeverance; and this with a ſeeming ſatisfaction, provided that it be not beaten without a cauſe, and that its maſter appears pleaſed with its exertions.

The elephant's conductor is uſually mounted [275] upon its neck, and makes uſe of a rod of iron to guide it, which is ſometimes pointed, and at others bent into a hook. With this the animal is ſpurred forward, when dull or diſobedient; but, in general, a word is ſufficient to put the gentle creature into motion, eſpecially when it is acquainted with its conductor. This acquaintance is often perfectly neceſſary; for the elephant frequently takes ſuch an affection to its keeper, that it will obey no other: and it has been known to die for grief, when, in ſome ſudden fit of madneſs, it has killed its conductor. We are told, that one of theſe, that was uſed by the French forces in India for the drawing their cannon, was promiſed, by the conductor, a reward, for having performed ſome painful ſervice; but being diſappointed of its expectations, it ſlew him in a fury. The conductor's wife, who was a ſpectator of this ſhocking ſcene, could not reſtrain her madneſs and deſpair; but running with her two children in her arms, threw them at the elephant's feet, crying out, that ſince it had killed her huſband, it might kill her and her children alſo. The elephant, ſeeing the children at its feet, inſtantly ſtopped, and moderating its fury, took up the eldeſt with its trunk, and placing him upon its neck, adopted [276] him for its conductor, and obeyed him ever after with great punctuality.

But it is not for drawing burthens alone, that the elephants are ſerviceable in war; they are often brought into the ranks, and compelled to fight in the moſt dangerous parts of the field of battle. There was a time, indeed, in India, when they were much more uſed in war than at preſent. A century or two ago, a great part of the dependance of the general, was upon the number and the expertneſs of his elephants; but of late, ſince war has been contented to adopt fatal inſtead of formidable arts, the elephant is little uſed, except for drawing cannon, or tranſporting proviſions. The princes of the country are pleaſed to keep a few for ornament, or for the purpoſes of removing their ſeraglios: but they are ſeldom led into a field of battle, where they are unable to withſtand the diſcharge of fire-arms, and have been often found to turn upon their employers. Still, however, they are uſed in war, in the more remote parts of the eaſt; in Siam, in Cochin China, in Tonquin, and Pegu. In all theſe places, they not only ſerve to ſwell the pomp of ſtate, being adorned with all the barbarian ſplendour that thoſe countries can beſtow, but they are actually led into the field of battle, [277] armed before with coats of mail, and loaded on the back each with a ſquare tower, containing from five combatants to ſeven. Upon its neck ſits the conductor, who goads the animal into the thickeſt ranks, and encourages it to encreaſe the devaſtation: wherever it goes, nothing can withſtand its fury; it lev [...]s the ranks with its immenſe bulk, flings ſuch as oppoſe it into the air, or cruſhes them to death under its feet. In the mean time, thoſe who are placed upon its back, combat as from an eminence, and fling down their weapons with double force, their weight being added to their velocity. Nothing, therefore, can be more dreadful, or more irreſiſtible, than ſuch a moving machine, to men unacquainted with the modern arts of war; the elephant, thus armed and conducted, raging in the midſt of a field of battle, inſpires more terror than even thoſe machines that deſtroy at a diſtance, and are often moſt fatal, when moſt unſeen. But this method of combating, is rather formidable than effectual: poliſhed nations have ever been victorious over thoſe ſemi-barbarous troops that have called in the elephant to their aſſiſtance, or attempted to gain a victory by merely aſtoniſhing their oppoſers. The Romans quickly learned the art of opening their ranks, to admit the elephant; [278] and thus ſeparating it from aſſiſtance, quickly compelled its conductors to calm the animal's fury, and to ſubmit. It ſometimes alſo happened that the elephant became impatient of control; and, inſtead of obeying its conductor, turned upon thoſe forces it was employed to aſſiſt. In either caſe, there was a great deal of preparation to very little effect; for a ſingle elephant is known to conſume as much as forty men in a day.

At preſent, therefore, they are chiefly employed in carrying or drawing burthens, throughout the whole Peninſula of India; and no animal can be more fitted by nature for this employment. The ſtrength of an elephant is equal to its bulk, for it can, with great eaſe, draw a load that ſix horſes could not remove: it can readily carry upon its back three or four thouſand weight; upon its tuſks alone it can ſupport near a thouſand: its force may alſo be eſtimated from the velocity of its motion, compared to the maſs of its body. It can go, in its ordinary pace, as faſt as an horſe at an eaſy trot; and, when puſhed, it can move as ſwiftly as an horſe at full gallop. It can travel with eaſe fifty or ſixty miles a day; and when hard preſſed, almoſt double that quantity. It may be heard trotting on at a great diſtance; it [279] is eaſy alſo to follow it by the track, which is deeply impreſſed on the ground, and from fifteen to eighteen inches in diameter.

In India they are alſo put to other very diſagreeable offices; for in ſome courts of the more barbarous princes, they are uſed as executioners; and this horrid taſk they perform with great dexterity: with their trunks they are ſeen to break every limb of the criminal at the word of command; they ſometimes trample him to death, and ſometimes impale him on their enormous tuſks, as directed. In this the elephant is rather the ſervant of a cruel maſter, than a voluntary tyrant, ſince no other animal of the foreſt is ſo naturally benevolent and gentle; equally mindful of benefits as ſenſible of neglect, he contracts a friendſhip for his keeper, and obeys him even beyond his capacity.

In India, where they were at one time employed in launching ſhips, a particular elephant was directed to force a very large veſſel into the water: the work proved ſuperior to its ſtrength, but not to its endeavours; which, however, the keeper affected to deſpiſe. ‘"Take away," ſays he, "that lazy beaſt, and bring another better fitted for ſervice."’ The poor animal inſtantly upon this redoubled its efforts, fractured its ſcull, and died upon the ſpot.

[280]In Deli, an elephant, paſſing along the ſtreets, put his trunk into a taylor's ſhop, where ſeveral people were at work. One of the perſons of the ſhop, deſirous of ſome amuſement, pricked the animal's trunk with his needle, and ſeemed highly delighted with this ſlight puniſhment. The elephant, however, paſſed on without any immediate ſigns of reſentment; but coming to a puddle filled with dirty water, he filled his trunk, returned to the ſhop, and ſpurted the contents over all the finery upon which the taylors were then employed.

An elephant in Adſmeer, which often paſſed through the bazar or market, as he went by a certain herb-woman, always received from her a mouthful of greens. Being one day ſeized with a periodical fit of madneſs, he broke his fetters, and, running through the market, put the crowd to flight; and, among others, this woman, who in her haſte forgot a little child at her ſtall. The elephant recollecting the ſpot where his benefactreſs was accuſtomed to fit, took up the infant gently in his trunk, and conveyed it to a place of ſafety.

At the Cape of Good Hope it is cuſtomary to hunt thoſe animals for the ſake of their teeth. Three horſemen, well mounted, and armed with lances, attack the elephant alternately, [281] each relieving the other, as they ſee their companion preſſed, till the beaſt is ſubdued. Three Dutchmen, brothers, who had made large fortunes by this buſineſs, determined to retire to Europe, and enjoy the fruits of their labours; but they reſolved, one day before they went, to have a laſt chace, by way of amuſement: they met with their game, and began their attack in the uſual manner; but, unfortunately, one of their horſes falling, happened to fling his rider; the enraged elephant inſtantly ſeized the unhappy huntſman with his trunk, flung him up to a vaſt height in the air, and received him upon one of his tuſks as he fell; and then turning towards the other two brothers, as if it were with an aſpect of revenge and inſult, held out to them the impaled wretch, writhing in the agonies of death.

The teeth of the elephant are what produces the great enmity between him and mankind; but whether they are ſhed, like the horns of the deer, or whether the animal be killed to obtain them, is not yet perfectly known. All we have as yet certain is, that the natives of Africa, from whence almoſt all our ivory comes, aſſure us, that they find the greateſt part of it in their foreſts; nor would, ſay they, the teeth of an elephant recompence them for their trouble [282] and danger in killing it: notwithſtanding, the elephants which are tamed by man, are never known to ſhed their tuſks; and from the hardneſs of their ſubſtance, they ſeem no way analogous to deers horns.

The teeth of the elephant are very often found in a foſſile ſtate. Some years ago, two great grinding-teeth, and part of the tuſk of an elephant, were diſcoved, at the depth of forty-two yards, in a lead mine in Flintſhire*.

The tuſks of the Mammouth, ſo often found foſſile in Siberia, and which are converted to the purpoſes of ivory, are generally ſuppoſed to belong to the elephant: however, the animal muſt have been much larger in that country than it is found at preſent, as thoſe tuſks are often known to weigh four hundred pounds; while thoſe that come from Africa, ſeldom exceed two hundred and fifty. Theſe enormous tuſks are found lodged in the ſandy banks of the Siberian rivers; and the natives pretend that they belong to an animal which is four times as large as the elephant.

There have lately been diſcovered ſeveral enormous ſkeletons, five or ſix feet beneath the ſurface, on the banks of the Ohio, not remote from the river Miume in America, ſeven [283] hundred miles from the ſea-coaſt. Some of the tuſks are near ſeven feet long; one foot nine inches in circumference at the baſe, and one foot near the point; the cavity at the root or baſe, nineteen inches deep. Beſides their ſize, there are yet other differences: the tuſks of the true elephant have ſometimes a very ſlight lateral bend; theſe have a larger twiſt, or ſpiral curve, towards the ſmaller end: but the great and ſpecific difference conſiſts in the ſhape of the grinding-teeth; which, in theſe newly found, are faſhioned like the teeth of a carnivorous animal; not flat and ribbed tranſverſely on their ſurface, like thoſe of the modern elephant, but furniſhed with a double row of high and conic proceſſes, as if intended to maſticate, not to grind their food. A third difference is in the thigh bone, which is of a great diſproportionable thickneſs to that of the elephant; and has alſo ſome other anatomical variations. Theſe foſſile bones have been alſo found in Peru and the Brazils; and, when cut and poliſhed by the workers in ivory, appear, in every reſpect, ſimilar. It is the opinion of Doctor Hunter that they muſt have belonged to a larger animal than the elephant; and differing from it, in being carnivorous. But as yet this formidable [284] creature has evaded our ſearch; and if, indeed, ſuch an animal exiſts, it is happy for man that it keeps at a diſtance; ſince what ravage might not be expected from a creature, endued with more than the ſtrength of the elephant, and all the rapacity of the tiger!

CHAP. IX. Of the Rhinoceros.

[285]
Figure 28. The Rhinoceros.

[285] NEXT to the elephant, the Rhinoceros is the moſt powerful of animals. It is uſually found twelve feet long, from the tip of the noſe to the inſertion of the tail; from ſix to ſeven feet high; and the circumference of its body is nearly equal to its length. It is, therefore, equal to the elephant in bulk; and if it appears much ſmaller to the eye, the reaſon is, that its legs are much ſhorter. Words can convey but a very confuſed idea of this animal's ſhape; and yet there are few ſo remarkably formed: its head is furniſhed with an horn, growing from the ſnout, ſometimes three feet and an half long; and but for this, that part would have the appearance of the head of an hog; the upper lip, however, is much longer in proportion, ends in a point, is very pliable, ſerves to collect its food, and deliver it into the mouth: the ears are large, erect, and pointed; the eyes are ſmall and piercing; the ſkin is naked, rough, knotty, and, lying upon the body in folds, after a very peculiar faſhion: there are two folds very remarkable; one above [] [...] [285] [...] [286] the ſhoulders, and another over the rump: the ſkin, which is of a dirty brown colour, is ſo thick as to turn the edge of a ſcymitar, and to reſiſt a muſquet-ball: the belly hangs low; the legs are ſhort, ſtrong and thick, and the hoofs divided into three parts, each pointing forward.

Such is the general outline of an animal that appears chiefly formidable from the horn growing from its ſnout; and formed rather for war, than with a propenſity to engage. This horn, is ſometimes found from three to three feet and an half long, growing from the ſolid bone, and ſo diſpoſed, as to be managed to the greateſt advantage. It is compoſed of the moſt ſolid ſubſtance; and pointed ſo as to inflict the moſt fatal wounds. The elephant, the boar, or the buffalo, are obliged to ſtrike tranſverſely with their weapons; but the rhinoceros employs all his force with every blow; ſo that the tiger will more willingly attack any other animal of the foreſt, than one whoſe ſtrength is ſo juſtly employed. Indeed, there is no force which this terrible animal has to apprehend: defended, on every ſide, by a thick horny hide, which the claws of the lion or the tiger are unable to pierce, and armed before with a weapon that even the elephant does not chuſe [287] to oppoſe. The miſſioners aſſure us, that the elephant is often found dead in the foreſts, pierced with the horn of a rhinoceros; and though it looks like wiſdom to doubt whatever they tell us, yet I cannot help giving credit to what they relate on this occaſion, particularly when confirmed by Pliny. The combat between theſe two, the moſt formidable animals of the foreſt, muſt be very dreadful. Emanuel, king of Portugal, willing to try their ſtrength, actually oppoſed them to each other; and the elephant was defeated.

But though the rhinoceros is thus formidable by nature, yet imagination has not failed to exert itſelf, in adding to its terrors. The ſcent is ſaid to be moſt exquiſite; and it is affirmed, that it conſorts with the tiger. It is reported alſo, that when it has overturned a man, or any other animal, it continues to lick the fleſh quite from the bone with its tongue, which is ſaid to be extremely rough. All this, however, is fabulous: the ſcent, if we may judge from the expanſion of the olfactory nerves, is not greater than that of an hog, which we know to be indifferent; it keeps company with the tiger, only becauſe they both frequent watery places in the burning climates where they are bred; and as to its rough [288] tongue, that is ſo far from the truth, that no animal of near its ſize has ſo ſoft a one. ‘"I have often felt it myſelf," ſays Ladvocat, in his deſcription of this animal; "it is ſmooth, ſoft, and ſmall, like that of a dog; and to the feel it appears as if one paſſed the hand over velvet. I have often ſeen it lick a young man's face who kept it; and both ſeemed pleaſed with the action."’

The rhinoceros which was ſhewn at London in 1739, and deſcribed by Doctor Parſons, had been ſent from Bengal. Though it was very young, not being above two years old, yet the charge of his carriage and food from India, coſt near a thouſand pounds. It was fed with rice, ſugar, and hay: it was daily ſupplied with ſeven pounds of rice, mixed with three of ſugar, divided into three, portions; it was given great quantities of hay and graſs, which it chiefly preferred; its drink was water, which it took in great quantities. It was of a gentle diſpoſition, and permitted itſelf to be touched and handled by all viſitors, never attempting miſchief, except when abuſed, or when hungry; in ſuch a caſe, there was no method of appeaſing its fury, but by giving it ſomething to eat. When angry, it would jump up againſt the walls of its room, with great violence; and, [289] many efforts to eſcape, but ſeldom attempted to attack its keeper, and was always ſubmiſſive to his threats. It had a peculiar cry, ſomewhat a mixture between the grunting of a hog, and the bellowing of a calf.

The age of theſe animals is not well known; it is ſaid by ſome, that they bring forth at three years old, and if we may reaſon from analogy, it is probable they ſeldom live till above twenty. That which was ſhewn in London, was ſaid by its keeper, to be eighteen years old, and even at that age, he pretended to conſider it as a young one; however, it died ſhortly after, and that probably in the courſe of nature.

The Rhinoceros is a native of the deſarts of Aſia and Africa, and is uſually found in thoſe extenſive foreſts, that are frequented by the elephant and the lion. As it ſubſiſts entirely upon vegetable food, it is peaceful and harmleſs among its fellows of the brute creation; but, though it never provokes to combat, it equally diſdains to fly. It is every way fitted for war, but reſts content in the conſciouſneſs of its ſecurity. It is particularly fond of the prickly branches of trees, and is ſeen to feed upon ſuch thorny ſhrubs as would be dangerous to other animals, either to gather, or to ſwallow. The prickly points of theſe, however, may only [290] ſerve to give a poignant reliſh to this animal's palate, and may anſwer the ſame grateful ends in ſeaſoning its banquet, that ſpices do in heightening ours.

In ſome parts of the kingdom of Aſia, where the natives are more deſirous of appearing warlike than ſhewing themſelves brave, theſe animals are tamed, and led into the field to ſtrike terror into the enemy; but they are always an unmanageable and reſtive animal, and probably more dangerous to the employers, than thoſe whom they are brought to oppoſe.

The method of taking them, is chiefly watching them, till they are found either in ſome moiſt or marſhy place, where, like hogs, they are fond of ſleeping and wallowing. They then deſtroy the old one with fire-arms, for no weapons, that are thrown by the force of man, are capable of entering this animal's hide. If, when the old one is deſtroyed, there happens to be a cub, they ſeize and tame it: theſe animals are ſometimes taken in pit-falls, covered with green branches, laid in thoſe paths which the Rhinoceros makes in going from the foreſt to the river ſide.

There are ſome varieties in this animal, as in moſt others; ſome of them are found in Africa with a double horn, one growing above [291] the other; this weapon, if conſidered in itſelf, is one of the ſtrongeſt, and moſt dangerous, that nature furniſhes to any part of the animal creation. The horn is entirely ſolid, formed of the hardeſt bony ſubſtance, growing from the upper maxilary bone, by ſo ſtrong an apophyſe, as ſeemingly to make but one part with it. Many are the medicinal virtues that are aſcribed to this horn, when taken in powder, but theſe qualities have been attributed to it, without any real foundation, and make only a ſmall part of the many fables which this extraordinary animal has given riſe to.

CHAP. X. The Hippopotamos.

[292]

THE hippopotamos is an animal as large, and not leſs formidable than the Rhinoceros; its legs are ſhorter, and its head rather more bulky than that of the animal laſt deſcribed. We have had but few opportunities in Europe of examining this formidable creature minutely, its dimenſions, however, have been pretty well aſcertained, by a deſcription given us by Zerenghi, an Italian ſurgeon, who procured one of them to be killed on the banks of the river Nile. By his account it appears, that this terrible animal, which chiefly reſides in the waters of that river, is above ſeventeen feet long, from the extremity of the ſnout, to the inſertion of the tail; above ſixteen feet in circumference round the body, and above ſeven feet high: the head is near four feet long, and above nine feet in circumference. The jaws open about two feet wide, and the cutting teeth, of which it hath four in each jaw, are above a foot long.

[293]Its feet, in ſome meaſure, reſemble thoſe of the elephant, and are divided into four parts. The tail is ſhort, flat, and pointed; the hide is amazingly thick, and though not capable of turning a muſket ball, is impenetrable to the blow of a ſabre; the body is covered over with a ſew ſcattered hairs, of a whitiſh colour. The whole figure of the animal is ſomething between that of an ox and a hog, and its cry is ſomething between the bellowing of the one, and the grunting of the other.

This animal, however, though ſo terribly furniſhed for war, ſeems no way diſpoſed to make uſe of it's prodigious ſtrength againſt an equal enemy; itchiefly reſides at the bottom of the great rivers and lakes of Africa; the Nile, the Niger, and the Zara; there it leads an indolent kind of life, and ſeems ſeldom diſpoſed for action, except when excited by the calls of hunger. Upon ſuch occaſions, three or four of them are often ſeen at the bottom of a river, near ſome cataract, forming a kind of line, and ſeizing upon ſuch fiſh as are forced down by the violence of the ſtream. In that element they purſue their prey with great ſwiftneſs and perſeverance; they ſwim with much force, and remain at the bottom for thirty or forty minutes without riſing to take breath. They traverſe the [294] the bottom of the ſtream, as if walking upon land, and make a terrible devaſtation where they find plenty of prey. But it often happens, that this animal's fiſhy food is not ſupplied in ſufficient abundance, it is then forced to come upon land, where it is an awkward and unweildy ſtranger; it moves but ſlowly, and, as it ſeldom forſakes the margin of the river, it ſinks at every ſtep it takes; ſometimes, however, it is forced, by famine, up into the higher grounds, where it commits dreadful havock among the plantations of the helpleſs natives, who ſee their poſſeſſions deſtroyed, without daring to reſiſt their invader. Their chief method is, by lighting fires, ſtriking drums, and raiſing a cry to frighten it back to its favourite element; and, as it is extremely timorous upon land, they generally ſucceed in their endeavours. But if they happen to wound, or otherways irritate it too cloſely, it then becomes formidable to all that oppoſe it: it overturns whatever it meets, and brings forth all its ſtrength, which it ſeemed not to have diſcovered before that dangerous occaſion. It poſſeſſes the ſame inoffenſive diſpoſition in its favourite element, that it is found to have upon land; it is never found to attack the mariners in their boats, as they go up or down the ſtream; but ſhould [295] they inadvertently ſtrike againſt it, or otherwiſe diſturb its repoſe, there is much danger of its ſending them, at once, to the bottom. ‘"I have ſeen, ſays a mariner, as we find it in Dampier, one of theſe animals open its jaws, and ſeizing any boat between his teeth, at once, bite and ſink it to the bottom. I have ſeen it upon another occaſion, place itſelf under one of our boats, and riſing under it, overſet it with ſix men which were in it; who, however, happily received no other injury."’ Such is the great ſtrength of this animal; and from hence, probably, the imagination has been willing to match it in combat againſt others more fierce and equally formidable. The crocodile and ſhark have been ſaid to engage with it, and yield an eaſy victory; but as the ſhark is only found at ſea, and the hippopotomos never ventures beyond the mouth of freſh-water rivers, it is moſt probable that theſe engagements never occurred; it ſometimes happens, indeed, that the princes of Africa amuſe themſelves with combats, on their freſh-water lakes, between this and other formidable animals; but whether the rhinoceros or the crocodile are of this number, we have not been particularly informed. If this animal be attacked at land, and finding itſelf incapable of vengeance from [296] the ſwiftneſs of its enemy, it immediately returns to the river, where it plunges in head foremoſt, and after a ſhort time riſes to the ſurface, loudly bellowing, either to invite or intimidate the enemy; but though the negroes will venture to attack the ſhark, or the crocodile, in their natural element, and there deſtroy them, they are too well appriſed of the force of the hippopotamos to engage it; this animal, therefore, continues the uncontrouled maſter of the river, and all others fly from its approach and become an eaſy prey.

As the hippopotomos lives upon fiſh and vegetables, ſo it is probable the fleſh of terreſtrial animals may be equally grateful: the natives of Africa aſſert, that it has often been found to devour children and other creatures that it was able to ſurpriſe upon land; yet it moves but ſlowly, almoſt every creature, endued with a common ſhare of ſwiftneſs, is able to eſcape it; and this animal, therefore, ſeldom ventures from the river ſide, but when preſſed by the neceſſities of hunger, or of bringing forth its young.

The female always comes upon land to bring forth, and it is ſuppoſed that ſhe ſeldom produces above one at a time; upon this occaſion, theſe animals are particularly timorous, and [297] dread the approach of a terreſtrial enemy; the inſtant the parent hears the ſlighteſt noiſe, it daſhes into the ſtream, and the young one is ſeen to follow it with equal alacrity.

The young ones are ſaid to be excellent eating; but the negroes, to whom nothing that has life comes amiſs, find an equal delicacy in the old. Dr. Pocock has ſeen their fleſh ſold in the ſhambles, like beef; and it is ſaid, that their breaſt, in particular, is as delicate eating as veal. As for the reſt, theſe animals are found in great numbers, and as they produce very faſt, their fleſh, might ſupply the countries where they are found, could thoſe barbarous regions produce more expert huntſmen; it may be remarked, however, that this creature, which was once in ſuch plenty at the mouth of the Nile, is now wholly unknown in Lower Egypt, and is no where to be found in that river, except above the cataracts.

CHAP. XI. The Camelopard.

[298]

WERE we to be told of an animal ſo tall, that a man on horſeback could with eaſe ride under its belly, without ſtooping, we ſhould hardly give credit to the relation; yet, of this extraordinary ſize is the camelopard, an animal that inhabits the Deſarts of Africa, and the accounts of which are ſo well aſcertained, that we cannot deny our aſſent to their authority. It is no eaſy matter to form an adequate idea of this creature's ſize, and the oddity of its formation. It exhibits ſomewhat the ſlender ſhape of the deer, or the camel, but deſtitute of their ſymmetry, or their eaſy power of motion The head ſomewhat reſembles that of the deer, with two round horns, near a footlong, and which it is probable, it ſheds as deer are found to do; its neck reſembles that of a horſe; its legs and feet, thoſe of the deer; but with this extraordinary difference, that the fore legs are near twice as long as the hinder. As theſe creatures []

Figure 29. The Camelopard.

[298] [...] [] [...] [299] have been found eighteen feet high, and ten from the ground to the top of the ſhoulders, ſo allowing three feet for the depth of the body ſeven feet remains, which is high enough to admit a man mounted upon a middle ſized horſe. The hinder part, however, is much lower, ſo that when the animal appears ſtanding, and at reſt, it has ſomewhat the appearance of a dog ſitting, and this formation of its legs, gives it an awkward and laborious motion; which, though ſwift, muſt yet be tireſome. For this reaſon, the camelopard is an animal very rarely found, and only finds refuge in the moſt internal deſart regions of Africa. The dimenſions of a young one, as they were accurately taken by a perſon, who examined its ſkin, that was brought from the Cape of Good Hope, were found to be as follow: the length of the head, was one foot eight inches; the height of the fore leg, from the ground to the top of the ſhoulder, was ten feet; from the ſhoulder, to the top of the head, was ſeven; the height of the hind leg, was eight feet five inches; and from the top of the ſhoulder, to the inſertion of the tail, was juſt ſeven feet long.

No animal, either from its diſpoſition, or its formation, ſeems leſs fitted for a ſtate of natural [300] hoſtility; its horns are blunt, and even knobbed at the ends; its teeth are made entirely for vegetable paſture; its ſkin is beautifully ſpeckled with white ſpots, upon a browniſh ground; it is timorous and harmleſs, and notwithſtanding its great ſize, rather flies from, than reſiſts the ſlighteſt enemy; it partakes very much of the nature of the camel, which it ſo nearly reſembles; it lives entirely upon vegetables, and when grazing, is obliged to ſpread its fore legs very wide, in order to reach its paſture; its motion is a kind of pace, two legs on each ſide moving at the ſame time, whereas in other animals they move tranſverſely. It often lies down with its belly to the earth, and like the camel, has a callous ſubſtance upon its breaſt, which, when repoſed, defends it from injury. This animal was known to the ancients, but has been very rarely ſeen in Europe. One of them was ſent from the Eaſt to the Emperor of Germany, in the year 1559, but they have often been ſeen tame at Grand Cairo, in Egypt; and I am told, there are two there at preſent. When ancient Rome was in its ſplendour, Pompey exhibited, at one time, no leſs than ten, upon the theatre. It was the barbarous pleaſure of the people, at that [301] time, to ſee the moſt terrible, and the moſt extraordinary animals produced in combat againſt each other. The lion, the lynx, the tiger, the elephant, the hippopotamos, were all let looſe promiſcuouſly, and were ſeen to inflict indiſcriminate deſtruction.

CHAP. XII. The Camel, and the Dromedary.

[202]

THESE names do not make two diſtinct kinds, but are only given to a variety of the ſame animal, which has, however, ſubſiſted time immemorial. The principal, and perhaps the only ſenſible difference, by which thoſe two races are diſtinguiſhed, conſiſts in this, that the camel has two bunches upon his back, whereas the dromedary has but one; the latter alſo, is neither ſo large, nor ſo ſtrong, as the camel. Theſe two races, however, produce with each other, and the mixed breed formed between them is conſidered the beſt, the moſt patient, and the moſt indefatigable of all the kind.

Figure 30. The Camel.
Figure 31. The Dromedary.

The camel is the moſt temperate of all animals, and it can continue to travel ſeveral days without drinking. In thoſe vaſt deſarts, where the earth is every where dry and ſandy, where there are neither birds nor beaſts, neither inſects nor vegetables, where nothing is to be ſeen but hills of ſand and heaps of bones, there the camel travels, poſting forward, without requiring either drink or paſture, and is often found ſix or ſeven days without any ſuſtenance whatſoever. Its feet are formed for travelling upon ſand, and utterly unfit for moiſt or marſhy places; the inhabitants, therefore, find a moſt uſeful aſſiſtant in this animal, where no other could ſubſiſt, and by its means, croſs thoſe deſarts [204] with ſafety, which would be unpaſſable by any other method of conveyance.

An animal, thus formed for a ſandy and deſart region, cannot be propagated in one of a different nature. Many vain efforts have been tried to propagate the camel, in Spain; they have been tranſported into America, but have multiplied in neither. It is true, indeed, that they may be brought into theſe countries, and may, perhaps, be found to produce there, but the care of keeping them is ſo great, and the accidents to which they are expoſed, from the changeableneſs of the climate, are ſo many, that they cannot anſwer the care of keeping. In a few years alſo, they are ſeen to degenerate; their ſtrength and their patience forſake them; and inſtead of making the riches, they become the burthen of their keepers.

But it is very different in Arabia, and thoſe countries where the camel is turned to uſeful purpoſes. It is there conſidered as a ſacred animal, without whoſe help, the natives could neither ſubſiſt, traffick, or travel; its milk makes a part of their nouriſhment; they feed upon its fleſh particularly when young; they clothe themſelves with its hair, which it is ſeen to molt regularly once a year, and if they fear an [305] invading enemy, their camels ſerve them in flight, and in a ſingle day, they are known to travel above an hundred miles. Thus, by means of the camel, an Arabian finds ſafety in his deſarts; all the armies upon earth might be loſt in the purſuit of a flying ſquadron of this country, mounted upon their camels, and taking refuge in ſolitudes where nothing interpoſes to ſtop their flight, or to force them to wait the invader. Nothing can be more dreary than the aſpect of theſe ſandy plains, that ſeem entirely forſaken of life and vegetation: wherever the eye turns, nothing is preſented but a ſterril and duſty ſoil, ſometimes torn up by the winds, and moving in great waves along, which, when viewed from an eminence, reſemble leſs the earth than the ocean; here and there a few ſhrubs appear that only teach us to wiſh for the grove that remind us of the ſhade in theſe ſultry climates, without affording its refreſhment; the return of morning, which, in other places, carries an idea of chearfulneſs here ſerves only to enlighten the endleſs and dreary waſte, and to preſent the traveller with an unfiniſhed proſpect of his forlorn ſituation; yet in this chaſm of nature, by the help of the camel, the Arabian finds ſafety and ſubſiſtance There are here and there [306] found ſpots of verdure, which, though remote from each other, are, in a manner, approximated by the labour and induſtry of the camel. Thus theſe deſarts, which preſent the ſtranger with nothing but objects of danger and ſterility, afford the inhabitant protection, food, and liberty. The Arabian lives independant and tranquil in the midſt of his ſolitudes; and, inſtead of conſidering the vaſt ſolitudes ſpread round him as a reſtraint upon his happineſs, he is, by experience, taught to regard them as the ramparts of his freedom.

The camel is eaſily inſtructed in the methods of taking up and ſupporting his burthen; their legs, a few days after they are produced, are bent under their belly; they are in this manner loaded, and taught to riſe; their burthen is every day thus encreaſed, by inſenſible degrees, till the animal is capable of ſupporting a weight adequate to its force: the ſame care is taken in making them patient of hunger and thirſt: while other animals receive their food at ſtated times, the camel is reſtrained for days together, and theſe intervals of famine are encreaſed in proportion as the animal ſeems capable of ſuſtaining them. By this method of education, they live five or ſix days without food or water; and their ſtomach is formed moſt admirably by [307] nature, to fit them for long abſtinence: beſides the four ſtomachs, which all animals have, that chew the cud, (and the camel is of the number) it has a fifth ſtomach, which ſerves as a reſervoir, to hold a greater quantity of water than the animal has an immediate occaſion for. It is of a ſufficient capacity to contain a large quantity of water, where the fluid remains without corrupting, or without being adulterated by the other aliments: when the camel finds itſelf preſſed with thirſt, it has here an eaſy reſource for quenching it; it throws up a quantity of this water by a ſimple contraction of the muſcles, into the other ſtomachs, and this ſerves to macerate its dry and ſimple food; in this manner, as it drinks but ſeldom, it takes in a large quantity at a time, and travellers, when ſtraightened for water, have been often known to kill their camels for that which they expected to find within them.

In Turky, Perſia, Arabia, Barbary, and Egypt, their whole commerce is carried on by means of camels, and no carriage is more ſpeedy, and none leſs expenſive in theſe countries. Merchants and travellers unite themſelves into a body, furniſhed with camels, to ſecure themſelves from the inſults of the robbers that infeſt the countries in which they [308] live. This aſſemblage is called a caravan, in which the numbers are ſometimes known to amount to above ten thouſand, and the number of camels is often greater than thoſe of the men: each of theſe animals is loaded according to his ſtrength, and he is ſo ſenſible of it himſelf, that when his burthen is too great, he remains ſtill upon his belly, the poſture in which he is loaden, refuſing to riſe, till his burthen be leſſened or taken away. In general, the large camels are capable of carrying a thouſand weight, and ſometimes twelve hundred; the dromedary from ſix to ſeven. In theſe trading journies, they travel but ſlowly, their ſtages are generally regulated, and they ſeldom go above thirty, or at moſt about five and thirty miles a day. Every evening, when they arrive at a ſtage, which is uſually ſome ſpot of verdure, where water and ſhrubs are in plenty, they are permitted to feed at liberty; they are then ſeen to eat as much in an hour, as will ſupply them for twenty-four, they ſeem to prefer the coarſeſt weeds to the ſofteſt paſture, the thiſtle, the nettle, the caſia, and other prickly vegetables, are their favourite food; but their drivers take care to ſupply them with a kind of paſte compoſition, which ſerves as a more permanent nouriſhment. As theſe animals [309] have often gone the ſame track, they are ſaid to know their way preciſely, and to purſue their paſſage when their guides are utterly aſtray: when they come within a few miles of their baiting-place, in the evening, they ſagaciouſly ſcent it at a diſtance, and encreaſing their ſpeed, are often ſeen to trot, with vivacity to their ſtage.

The patience of this animal is moſt extraordinary; and it is probable, that its ſufferings are great, for when it is loaded, it ſends forth moſt lamentable cries, but never offers to reſiſt the tyrant that oppreſſes it. At the ſlighteſt ſign, it bends its knees and lies upon its belly, ſuffering itſelf to be loaded in this poſition; by this practice the burthen is more eaſily laid upon it, than if lifted up while ſtanding; at another ſign it riſes with its load, and the driver getting upon its back, between the two panniers, which, like hampers, are placed upon each ſide, he encourages the camel to proceed with his voice and with a ſong. In this manner the creature proceeds contentedly forward, with a ſlow uneaſy walk, of about four miles an hour, and when it comes to its ſtage, lies down to be unloaded, as before.

Mr. Buffon ſeems to conſider the camel to be the moſt domeſticated of all other creatures, [310] and to have more marks of the tyranny of man imprinted on its form. He is of opinion, that this animal is not now to be found in a ſtate of nature, that the humps on its back, the caloſities upon its breaſt, and its legs, and even the great reſervoir for water, are all marks of long ſervitude and domeſtic conſtraint. The deformities he ſuppoſes to be perpetuated by generation, and what at firſt was accident at laſt becomes nature. However this be, the humps upon the back grow large in proportion as the animal is well fed, and if examined, they will be found compoſed of a ſubſtance not unlike the udder of a cow.

The inhabitants generally leave but one male to wait on ten females, the reſt they caſtrate; and though they thus become weaker, they are more manageable and patient. The female receives the male in the ſame poſition as when theſe animals are loaded; ſhe goes with young for about a year, and, like all other great animals, produces but one at a time. The camel's milk is abundant and nouriſhing, and mixed with water makes a principle part of the beverage of the Arabians. Theſe animals begin to engender at three years of age, and they ordinarily live from forty to fifty years. The genital part of the male reſembles that of [311] the bull, but is placed pointing backwards, ſo that its urine ſeems to be ejected in the manner of the female. This, as well as the dung, and almoſt every part of this animal, is converted to ſome uſeful purpoſe by the keepers. Of the urine falmoniac is made; and of the dung, litter for the horſes, and fire, for the purpoſe of dreſſing their victuals. Thus, this animal alone ſeems to compriſe within itſelf, a variety of qualities, any one of which ſerves to render other quadrupedes abſolutely neceſſary for the welfare of man; like the elephant, it is manageable and tame; like the horſe, it gives the rider ſecurity; it carries greater burthens than the ox, or the mule, and its milk is furniſhed in as great abundance as that of the cow; the fleſh of the young ones is ſuppoſed to be as delicate as veal; their hair is more beautiful, and more in requeſt than wool; while even of its very excrements, no part is uſeleſs.

CHAP. XIV. The Lama.

[312]

AS almoſt all the quadrupedes of America are ſmaller than the reſembling ones of the ancient continent, ſo the lama, which may be conſidered as the camel of the new world, is every way leſs than that of the old. This animal, like that deſcribed in the former chapter, ſtands high upon its legs, has a long neck, a ſmall head, and reſembles the camel, not only in its natural mildneſs, but its aptitude for ſervitude, its moderation, and its patience. The Americans early found out its uſeful qualities, and availed themſelves of its labours: like the camel, it ſerves to carry goods over places inacceſſible to other beaſts of burthen; like that it is obedient to its driver, and often dies under, but never reſiſts his cruelty.

Of theſe animals, ſome are white, others black, but they are moſtly brown; its face reſembles that of the camel, and its height is about equal to that of an aſs. They are not found in the ancient continent, but entirely [313] belong to the new; nor are they found ſpread over all America, but are found chiefly upon thoſe mountains, that ſtretch from New Spain to the Streights of Magellan. They inhabit the higheſt regions of the globe, and ſeem to require purer air than animals of a lower ſituation are found to enjoy. Peru ſeems to be the place where they are found in greateſt plenty. In Mexico, they are introduced rather as curioſities than beaſts of burthen; but in Potoſi, and other provinces of Peru, they make the chief riches of the Indians and Spaniards who rear them: their fleſh is excellent food; their hair or rather wool, may be ſpun into beautiful cloathing, and they are capable, in the moſt rugged and dangerous ways, of carrying burthens not exceeding a hundred weight, with the greateſt ſafety. It is true indeed that they go but ſlowly, and ſeldom above fifteen miles a day; their tread is heavy, but ſure, they deſcend precipices, and find footing among the moſt craggy rocks where even men can ſcarce accompany them; they are, however, but feeble animals, and after four or five days labour, they are obliged to repoſe for a day or two. They are chiefly uſed in carrying the riches of the mines of Potoſi, and we are told that there [314] are above three hundred thouſand of theſe animals in actual employ.

This animal, as was ſaid before, is above three feet high, and the neck is three feet long, the head is ſmall and well proportioned, the eyes large, the noſe long, the lips thick, the upper divided, and the lower a little depending, like all thoſe animals that feed upon graſs, it wants the upper cutting teeth; the ears are four inches long, and move with great agility; the tail is but five inches long, it is ſmall, ſtrait, and a little turned up at the end; it is cloven footed, like the ox, but it has a kind of ſpearlike appendage behind, which aſſiſts it in moving over precipices and rugged ways; the wool on the back is ſhort, but long on the ſides and the belly; it reſembles the camel in the formation of the genital parts in the male, ſo that it makes urine backwards; it couples alſo in the ſame manner, and though it finds much difficulty in the action, it is ſaid to be much inclined to venery. A whole day is often paſſed, before this neceſſary buſineſs can be compleated, which is ſpent in growling, quarrelling, and ſpitting at each other; they ſeldom produce above one at a time, and their age never extends above ten or twelve years at fartheſt.

[315]Though the lama is no way comparable to the camel, either for ſize, ſtrength, or perſeverance, yet the Americans find a ſubſtitute in it, with which they ſeem perfectly contented. It appears formed for that indolent race of maſters, which it is obliged to ſerve; it requires no care, nor no expence in the attending or providing for its ſuſtenance; it is ſupplied with a warm covering, and therefore does not require to be houſed; ſatisfied with vegetables and graſs, it wants neither corn nor hay to ſubſiſt it; it is not leſs moderate in what it drinks, and exceeds even the camel in temperance. Indeed, of all other creatures, it ſeems to require water leaſt, as it is ſupplied by nature with ſaliva in ſuch large quantities, that it ſpits it out on every occaſion: this ſaliva ſeems to be the only offenſive weapon that the harmleſs creature has to teſtify its reſentment. When overloaded, or fatigued, and driven on by all the torturing acts of its keeper, it falls on its belly, and pours out againſt him, a quantity of this fluid; which, though probably no way hurtful, the Indians are much afraid of They ſay, that wherever it falls, it is of ſuch an acrimonious nature, that it will either burn the ſkin, or cauſe very dangerous eruptions.

[316]Such are theſe animals in their domeſtic ſtate; but as they are found wild in very great numbers, they exhibit marks of great force and agility, in their ſtate of nature. The ſtag is ſcarcely more ſwift, or the goat, or the ſhamoy a better climber. All its ſhapes are more delicate and ſtrong; its colour is tawney, and its wool is but ſhort; in their native forreſts, they are gregarious animals, and are often ſeen in flocks of two or three hundred at a time. When they perceive a ſtranger, they regard him at firſt with aſtoniſhment, without marking any fear or ſurprize; but ſhortly, as if by common conſent, they ſnuff up the air, ſomewhat like horſes, and at once, by a common flight take refuge on the tops of the mountains; they are fonder of the northern than the ſouthern ſide of the Andes; they often climb above the ſnowy tracts of the mountain, and ſeem vigorous in proportion to the coldneſs of their ſituation. The natives hunt the wild lama for the ſake of its fleece. If the dogs ſurprize one upon the plain, they are generally ſucceſsful; but if once the lama obtains the rocky precipice of the mountain, the hunters are obliged to deſiſt in their purſuit.

The lama ſeems to be the largeſt of the camel kind in America; there are others, which are [317] called guanacoes and pacos, that are ſmaller and weaker, but endued with the ſame nature, and formed pretty much in the ſame manner. They ſeem to bear the ſame proportions to each other, that the horſe does to the aſs, and are employed with the ſame degree of ſubordination. The wool, however, of the paco, ſeems to be the moſt valuable, and it is formed into ſtuffs, not inferiour to ſilk, either in price or beauty. The natural colour of the paco, is that of a dried roſe leaf; the manufacturers ſeldom give its wool any other dye, but form it into quilts and carpets, which exceed thoſe from the Levant. This manufacture forms a very conſiderable branch of commerce in South America, and probably too, might be extended to Europe, were the beauty, and the durability of what is thus wrought up ſufficiently known.

CHAP. XV. The Nyl-ghau.

[318]

THIS animal, the name of which is pronounced nylgaw is a native of India, and has but lately been imported into Europe; it ſeems to be of a middle nature, between the cow and the deer, and carries the appearance of both in its form. In ſize, it is as much ſmaller than the one, as it is larger than the other; its body, horns, and tail, are not unlike thoſe of a bull; and the head, neck, and legs, are very like thoſe of a deer. The colour, in general, is aſh or grey, from a mixture of black hairs and white; all along the ridge or edge of the neck, the hair is blacker, larger, and more erect, making a ſhort thin and upright mane. Its horns are ſeven inches long, they are ſix inches round at the root, growing ſmaller by degrees, they terminate in a blunt point. The bluntneſs of theſe, together with the form of its head and neck, might incline us to ſuppoſe it was of the deer kind; but, as it never ſheds its horns, it has a greater affinity to the cow.

[319]From the diſpoſition of that brought over to this country, which has been very accurately and minutely deſcribed by Dr. Hunter, their manners were harmleſs and gentle. Although in its native wildneſs, it is ſaid to be fierce and vicious, this ſeemed pleaſed with every kind of familiarity, and always licked the hand that ſtroked, or gave it bread, and never once attempted to uſe its horns offenſively; it ſeemed to have much dependance on its organs of ſmell, and ſnuffed keenly, and with noiſe, whenever any perſon came within ſight; it did ſo likewiſe, when any food or drink was brought to it; and was ſo eaſily offended with ſmells, or ſo cautious, that it would not taſte the bread which was offered, when the hand happened to ſmell ſtrong of turpentine. Its manner of fighting is very particular. It was obſerved, at Lord Clive's, where two males were put into a little incloſure, that, while they were at a conſiderable diſtance from each other, they prepared for the attack, by falling upon their fore-knees, then they ſhuffled towards each other, with a quick pace, keeping ſtill upon their fore-knees; and when they were come within ſome yards, they made a ſpring and darted againſt each other. The intrepidity and force with which they dart againſt any object, appeared by the ſtrength with which [320] one of them attempted to over-turn a poor labourer who unthinkingly ſtood on the outſide of the pales of its incloſure. The Nyl ghau, with the quickneſs of lightning, darted againſt the wood-work with ſuch violence, that he broke it to pieces, and broke off one of his horns cloſe to the root, which occaſioned the animal's death. At all the places in India where we have ſettlements, they are conſidered as rarities, and brought from the diſtant interiour parts of the country. The Emperor, ſometimes, kills them in ſuch numbers, as to diſtribute quarters of them to all his omrahs; which ſhews that they are internally wild and in plenty, and eſteemed good or dilicious food. The nyl-ghaus, which have been brought to England, have been moſt, if not all of them, received from Surat or Bombay; and they ſeem to be leſs uncommon in that part of India, than in Bengal; which gives room for a conjecture, that they may be indigenous, perhaps in the province of Guzarat, one of the moſt weſtern and the moſt conſiderable of the Hindoſtan empire, lying to the northward of Surat, and ſtretching away to the Indian ocean.

CHAP. XVI. The Bear.

[321]
Figure 32. The Brown Bear.

[321]OF the bear, there are three different kinds, the brown bear of the Alps, the black bear of North-America, which is ſmaller, and the great Greenland, or white bear. Theſe, tho' different in their form, are no doubt of the ſame original, and owe their chief variations to food and climate. They have all the ſame habitudes, being equally carnivorous, treacherous and cruel. It has been ſaid indeed, that the black bear of America, rejects animal food, but of the contrary I am certain, as I have often ſeen the young ones, which are brought over to London, prefer fleſh to every kind of vegetable aliment.

The brown bear, is properly an inhabitant of the temperate climates; the black finds ſubſiſtance in the northern regions of Europe and America, while the great white bear takes refuge in the moſt icy climates, and lives where ſcarce any other animal can find ſubſiſtence.

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[321]
[...]

[322]The brown bear * is not only ſavage but ſolitary; he takes refuge in the moſt unfrequented parts, and the moſt dangerous precipices of uninhabited mountains. It chuſes its den in the moſt gloomy parts of the foreſt, in ſome cavern that has been hollowed by time, or in the hollow of ſome old enormous tree. There it retires alone, and paſſes ſome months of the winter without proviſions, or without ever ſtirring abroad. However this animal is not intirely deprived of ſenſation like the bat, or the dormouſe, but ſeems rather to ſubſiſt upon the exuberance of its former fleſh, and only feels the calls of appetite, when the fat it had acquired in ſummer, begins to be entirely waſted away. In this manner, when the bear retires to its den, to hide for the winter, it is extremely fat, but at the end of forty or fifty days, when it comes forth to ſeek for freſh nouriſhment, it ſeems to have ſlept all its fleſh away. It is a common report, that during this time, they live by ſucking their paws, which is a vulgar error that ſcarce requires confutation. Theſe ſolitary animals couple in autumn, but the time of geſtation with the female is ſtill unknown; the female takes great care to provide a proper retreat for her young, [323] ſhe ſecures them in the hollow of a rock, and provides a bed of hay in the warmeſt part of the den; ſhe brings forth in winter, and the young ones begin to follow her in ſpring. The male and female, by no means inhabit the ſame den; they have each their ſeparate retreat, and ſeldom are ſeen together but upon the acceſſes of genial deſire.

The voice of the bear is a kind of growl, interrupted with rage, which is often capriciouſly exerted; and tho' this animal ſeems gentle and placid to its maſter, when tamed; yet it is ſtill to be diſtruſted and managed with caution, as it is often treacherous and reſentful without a cauſe.

This animal is capable of ſome degree of inſtruction. There are few but have ſeen it dance in aukward meaſures upon its hind feet, to the voice or the inſtrument of its leader; and it muſt be confeſſed that the dancer is often found to be the beſt performer of the two. I am told, that it is firſt taught to perform in this manner, by ſetting it upon hot plates of iron, and then playing to it, while in this uneaſy ſituation.

The bear, when come to maturity, can never be tamed; it then continues in its native fierceneſs, and tho' caged, ſtill formidably impotent, [324] at the approach of its keeper flies to meet him. But notwithſtanding the fierceneſs of this animal, the natives in thoſe countries where it is found, hunt it with great perſeverance and alacrity. The leaſt dangerous method of taking it is by intoxicating it, by throwing brandy upon honey, which it ſeems to be chiefly fond of, and ſeeks for in the hollow of trees. In Canada, where the black bears are very common, and where their dens are made in trees, that are hollow towards the top, they are taken by ſetting fire to their retreats, which are often above thirty feet from the ground. The old one is generally ſeen firſt to iſſue from her den, and is ſhot by the hunters. The young ones, as they deſcend, are caught in a nooſe, and are either kept or killed for proviſion. Their paws are ſaid to be a great delicacy, and their hams are well enough known at the tables of the luxurious here. Their fat alſo, which ſtill preſerves a certain degree of fluidity, is ſuppoſed to be an efficacious remedy in white or indolent tumours, tho' probably very little ſuperior to hogs lard.

Figure 33. The White Bear.

The white bear, ſeems the only animal, that by being placed in the coldeſt climate, grows larger than thoſe that live in the temperate zones. All other ſpecies of animated nature, diminiſh as they approach the poles, and ſeem contracted in their ſize, by the rigours of the ambient atmoſphere, but the bear, being unmoleſted in theſe deſolate climates, and meeting no animal, but what he can eaſily conquer, finding alſo a ſufficient ſupply of fiſhy proviſions, he grows to an enormous ſize, and as the lion is the tyrant of an African foreſt, ſo the bear remains undiſputed maſter of the icy mountains in Spitzbergen and Greenland. When our mariners land upon thoſe [326] ſhores, in ſuch parts as have not been frequented before, the white bears come down to view them with an aukward curioſity; they approach ſlowly, ſeeming undetermined whether to advance or retreat, and being naturally a timorous animal, they are only urged on by the conſcious experience of their former victories; however, when they are ſhot at, or wounded, they endeavour to fly, or finding that impracticable, they make a fierce and deſperate reſiſtance till they die. As they live upon fiſh and ſeals, their fleſh is too ſtrong for food, and the captors have nothing but the ſkin, to reward them, for the dangers incurred in the engagement.

The number of theſe animals that are found about the north-pole, if we conſider the ſcarcity thereof, of all other terreſtrial creatures is very amazing. They are not only ſeen at land, but often on ice-floats, ſeveral leagues at ſea. They are often tranſported in this manner to the very ſhores of Iceland, where they no ſooner land, but all the natives are in arms to receive them. It often happens, that when a greenlander and his wife are paddling out at ſea, by coming too near an ice-float, a white bear unexpectedly jumps into their boat, and if he does not overſet it, ſits calmly where [327] he firſt came down, and like a paſſenger, ſuffers himſelf to be rowed along. It is probable the poor little greenlander is not very fond of his new gueſts, however he makes a virtue of neceſſity, and hoſpitably rows him to ſhore.

As this animal lives chiefly upon fiſh, ſeals, and dead whales, it ſeldom removes far from the ſhore. When forced by hunger, it often ventures into the deep, ſwims after ſeals, and devours whatever it can ſeize; it is however but a bad ſwimmer, and it is often hunted in this manner by boats, till it is fatigued, and at laſt deſtroyed. It often happens a battle enſues between a bear and a morſe or a whale, as the latter are more expert in their own element, they generally prove victorious. However, when the bear can find a young whale, it repays him for the danger he incurs of meeting with the parent.

CHAP. XVII. The Badger.

[328]

THE badgers legs are ſo ſhort, that its belly ſeems to touch the ground; this however is but a deceitful appearance, as it is cauſed by the length of the hair, which is very long all over the body, and makes it ſeem much more bulky that it really is. It is a ſolitary ſtupid animal, that finds refuge, remote from man, and digs itſelf a deep hole, with great aſſiduity. It ſeems to avoid the light, and ſeldom quits its retreat by day, only ſtealing out at night to find ſubſiſtence. It burrows in the ground very eaſy, its legs being ſhort and ſtrong, and its claws, ſtiff and horny. As it continues to bury itſelf, and throw the earth behind it, to a great diſtance, and thus forms to itſelf a winding hole, at the bottom of which it remains in ſafety. As the fox is not ſo expert at digging into the earth, it often takes poſſeſſion of that which has been quitted by the badger, and ſome ſay, forces it from its retreat, by laying its excrements at the mouth of the badger's hole.

Figure 34. The Badger.
[328]
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[329]This animal, however, is not long in making itſelf a new habitation, from which it ſeldom ventures far, as it flies but ſlowly, and can find ſafety only in the ſtrength of its retreat. When it is ſurprized by the dogs at ſome diſtance from its hole, it then combats with deſperate reſolution; it falls upon its back, defends itſelf on every ſide, and ſeldom dies unrevenged in the midſt of its enemies.

The badger, like the fox, is a carnivorous animal, and nothing that has life can come amiſs to it. It ſleeps the greateſt part of its time, and thus without being a voracious feeder, it ſtill keeps fat, particularly in winter. They always keep their hole very clear, and when the female brings forth, ſhe makes a comfortable warm bed of hay, at the bottom of her hole for the reception of her young. She brings forth in ſummer, generally to the number of three or four, which ſhe feeds at firſt with her milk, and afterwards with ſuch petty prey as ſhe can ſurprize. She ſeizes the young rabbets in their warren, robs birds neſts, finds out where the wild bees have laid up their honey, and brings all to her expecting brood.

The young ones when taken are eaſily tamed, but the old ſtill continues ſavage and incorrigible; the former, after a ſhort time, play with [330] the dogs, follow their maſter about the houſe, but ſeem of all other animals the moſt fond of the fire. They often approach it ſo cloſely, that they burn themſelves in a dangerous manner. They are ſometimes alſo ſubject to the mange, and have a gland under their tail, which ſcents pretty ſtrongly. The poor of ſome countries eat their fleſh; which, tho' fat, is at beſt, but rank and ill taſted.

CHAP. XVIII. The Tapir

[331]
Figure 35. The Tapir.

[331]THERE ſeems to be a rude, but inferiour reſemblance between many animals of the old and the new world. The congar of America, reſembles the tiger in natural ferocity, tho' far inferior in its dimenſions. The lama bears ſome affinity to the camel, but is far behind it in ſtrength and utility. The tapir may be conſidered as the hippopotamos of the New Continent, but, degraded both as to its ſize and ferocity.

This animal bears ſome diſtant reſemblance in its form to a mule. It has a long ſnout, which it lengthens or contracts at pleaſure. Its ears are ſmall, long, and pendant. Its neck and tail are ſhort, and its claws ſtrong and firm, of which it has four upon each foot. Its ſkin is thick, and covered with brown hair, and the natives make ſhields of it, which cannot be pierced by an arrow.

This animal may in ſome meaſure be termed amphibious, as it chiefly reſides in the water. [] [...] [331] [...] [332] It differs however from all others of this kind, in feeding entirely upon vegetables, and not making this element the place of its depredations. It feeds upon the paſtures by the riverſide, and as it is very timorous, the inſtant it hears the leaſt noiſe, it plunges into the ſtream. They are greatly ſought after by the natives, as their fleſh is conſidered as a delicacy, and thought by ſome not inferior to beef,

CHAP. XIX. The Racoon.

[333]
Figure 36. The Racoon.

[333]THE racoon, which ſome authors have called the Jamaica rat, is about the ſize of a ſmall badger; its body is ſhort and bulky; its fur is fine, long and thick, blackiſh at the ſurface, and grey towards the bottom; the noſe is rather ſhorter, and more pointed than that of a fox; the eyes large and yellow, the teeth reſembling thoſe of a dog, the tail thick, but tapering towards a point, regularly marked with rings of black, and at leaſt as long as the body; the fore-feet are much ſhorter than the hinder, both armed with five ſharp claws, with which, and his teeth, the animal makes a vigorous reſiſtance. Like the ſquirrel, it makes uſe of its paws to hold its food while eating, but it differs from the monkey-kind, which uſe only but one hand on thoſe occaſions, whereas the racoon and the ſquirrel, uſe both; as wanting the thumb, their paws ſingly are unfit for graſping or holding; tho' this animal be ſhort and bulky, it is however very active; its [] [...] [333] [...] [334] pointed claws, enable it to climb trees with great facility; it runs on the trunk with the ſame ſwiftneſs that it moves upon the plain, and ſports among the moſt extreme branches with great agility, ſecurity and eaſe; it moves forward chiefly by bounding, and tho' it proceeds in an oblique direction, it has ſpeed enough moſt frequently to eſcape its purſuers.

This animal is a native of the ſouthern parts of America, nor have any travellers mentioned its being found in the Ancient Continent. But in the climates of which it is a native; it is found in noxious abundance, particularly in Jamaica, where it keeps in the mountains, and where it often deſcends to feed upon the plantations of ſugar-cane. The planters of theſe climates, conſider theſe animals as one of their greateſt miſeries; they have contrived various methods of deſtroying them, yet ſtill they propagate in ſuch numbers, that neither traps nor fire-arms can ſet them free; ſo that a ſwarm of theſe famiſhed creatures are found to do more injury in a ſingle night, than the labours of a month can repair.

But tho', when wild they are thus troubleſome, in a ſtate of tameneſs no animal is more harmleſs or amuſing; they are capable of being inſtructed in various little amuſing tricks. The [335] racoon is playful and cleanly, and is very eaſily ſupported; it eats of every thing that's given it, and if left to itſelf, no cat can be a better provider; it examines every corner, eats of all fleſh, either boiled or raw, eggs, fruits or corn, inſects themſelves cannot eſcape it, and if left at liberty in a garden, it will feed upon ſnails, worms and beetles; but it has a particular fondneſs for ſweets of every kind, and to be poſſeſt of theſe in its wild ſtate, it incurs every danger. Though it will eat its proviſions dry, it will for choice dip them in water if it happens to be in the way; it has one particularity which few other animals have been found to poſſeſs, it drinks as well by lapping, like the dog, as by ſucking like the horſe.

CHAP. XX. The Coatimondi.

[336]

THE firſt peculiarity with which this animal ſtrikes the ſpectator, is the extreme length of its ſnout, which in ſome meaſure reſembles that of the hog, but elongated to a ſurprizing degree; it bears ſome diſtant reſemblance to the animal laſt deſcribed, except that the neck and the body are longer, the fur ſhorter, and the eyes ſmaller; but its principal diſtinction, as was ſaid before, conſiſts in the ſhape of its noſe, the upper jaw being an inch longer than the lower, and the ſnout, which is moveable in every diviſion, turning up at the end. Like the racoon, it ſets up on its hinder legs with great eaſe, and in this poſition, with both paws, carries the food to its mouth.

Figure 37. The Black Coati Mondi.

It ſeems poſſeſt of the ſame playful qualities, and indiſcriminate appetites with the animal deſcribed in the laſt chapter; if left at liberty in a ſtate of tameneſs, it will purſue the poultry, and deſtroy every living thing that it has ſtrength to conquer; tho' it is playful with its keeper, yet it ſeems obſtinately bent againſt receiving any inſtruction, and neither threats nor careſſes can induce it to practiſe any arts to which it is not naturally inclined. When it ſleeps, it rolls itſelf up in a lump, and in that poſition often continues for fourteen or fifteen hours together.

CHAP. XXI. Of the Ant-Bear.

[338]

THERE are many animals that live upon ants in Africa and America; the pangolin or ſcaly lizard of Guinea may be conſidered among this number; but there are a greater variety in America, which makes thoſe minute inſects their only ſubſiſtence. Though they are of different figures and ſizes, yet in general they go under one common name of the ant-bear; the peculiar length and ſlenderneſs of their ſnout, their ſingular appetites, and their manner of taking their prey, ſtriking us too ſtrongly to attend to the minute differences of their ſize or form.

Figure 38. The Ant Bear
Figure 39. The Ant Bear.

The ſnout is produced in ſo diſproportionate a manner, that the length of it makes near a fourth part of the whole figure. A horſe has one of the longeſt heads of any animal we know, and yet the ant-bear has one above twice as long, in proportion to its body. The ſnout of this animal is almoſt round and cylindrical; it is extremely ſlender, and is ſcarce thicker near the eyes than at its extremity. The mouth is very ſmall, the noſtrils are very cloſe to each other, the eyes are little, in proportion to the length of the noſe, the neck is ſhort, the tongue is extremely long, ſlender, and flatted on both ſides; this it keeps generally doubled up in the mouth, and is the only inſtrument by [340] which it finds ſubſiſtence; for the whole of this tribe are entirely without teeth, and find ſafety only in the remoteneſs and ſecurity of their retreat.

If we examine through the various regions of the earth, we ſhall find that all the moſt active, ſprightly, [...]nd uſeful quadrupedes have been gathered round man, and either ſerved his pleaſures, or ſtill maintained their independence by their vigilance, their cunning, or their induſtry. It is in the remote ſolitudes that we are to look for the helpleſs, the deformed, and the monſtrous births of nature. Theſe wretched animals being incapable of defending themſelves, either by their agility, or their natural arms, fall a prey to every creature that attacks them; they therefore retire for ſafety into the darkeſt foreſts, or the moſt deſart mountains, where none of the bolder, or ſwifter animals chuſe to reſide.

It may well be ſuppoſed that an animal ſo helpleſs as the ant-bear is, with legs too ſhort to fit it for flight, and unprovided with teeth to give it a power of reſiſtance, is neither numerous, nor often ſeen; its retreats are in the moſt barren and uncultivated parts of South-America. It is a native only of the new continent, and intirely unknown to the old. It [341] lives chiefly in the woods, and hides itſelf under the fallen leaves. It ſeldom ventures from its retreat, and the induſtry of an hour ſupplies it with ſufficient food for ſeveral days together. Its manner of procuring its prey, is one of the moſt ſingular in all natural hiſtory; as its name implies, it lives entirely upon ants and inſects; theſe, in the countries where it is bred, are found in the greateſt abundance, and often build themſelves hills, five or ſix feet high, where they live in community. When this animal approaches an ant-hill, it creeps ſlowly forward on its belly, taking every precaution to keep itſelf concealed, till it comes within a proper diſtance of the place where it intends to make its banquet; there lying cloſely along at its length, it thruſts forth its round red tongue, which is often two feet long, acroſs the path of theſe buſy inſects, and there lets it lye motionleſs for ſeveral minutes together. The ants of that country, ſome of which are half an inch long, conſidering it as a piece of fleſh accidentally thrown before them, come forth and ſwarm upon it in great numbers, but wherever they touch, they ſtick; for this inſtrument is covered with a ſlimy fluid, which like bird-lime, entangles every creature that lights upon it. When therefore the ant-bear [342] has found a ſufficient number for one morſel, it inſtantly draws in the tongue, and devours them all in a moment; after which it ſtill continues in its poſition, practiſing the ſame arts until its hunger is entirely appeaſed; it then retires to its hiding-place once more, where it continues in indolent exiſtence, till again excited by the calls of hunger.

Such is the luxurious life of a creature, that ſeems of all others the moſt helpleſs and deformed. It finds ſafety in its hiding-places from its enemies, and an ample ſupply in ſome neighbouring ant-hill, for all its appetites. As it only tries to avoid its purſuers, it is ſeldom diſcovered by them; yet helpleſs as this animal is, when driven to an extremity, though without teeth, it will fight with its claws, with great obſtinacy. With theſe arms alone, it has often been found to oppoſe the dog, and even the Jaguar. It throws itſelf upon its back, faſtens upon its enemy with all its claws, ſticks with great ſtrength and perſeverance, and even after killing its invader, which is ſometimes the caſe, does not quit its hold, but remains faſtened upon him with vindictive deſperation.

CHAP. XXII. Of the Sloth.

[343]
Figure 40. The Sloth.

[343]OF the ſloth there are two different kinds, diſtinguiſhed from each other by their claws; the one, which in its native country is called the unan, having only two claws upon each foot, and being without a tail; the other, which is called the ai, having a tail and three claws upon each foot. The unan has the ſnout longer, the ears more apparent, and the fur very different from the other. It differs alſo in the number of its ribs, this having forty-ſix, while the ai has but twenty-eight. Theſe differences, however, which though very apparent, have been but little regarded in the deſcription of two animals which ſo ſtrongly reſemble each other in the general out-lines of their figure, in their appetites, and their helpleſs formation.

They are both, therefore, deſcribed under the common appellation of the ſloth, and their habitudes well deſerve our wonder and curioſity. [] [...] [343] [...] [344] Nature ſeems cramped and conſtrained in their formation; other animals are often indolent from choice, theſe are ſlow from neceſſity; the ai, from which I ſhall take my deſcription, and from which the other differs only in the ſlight particulars above-mentioned, and in being rather more active, is of about the ſize of a badger. Its fur is coarſe and ſtaring, ſomewhat reſembling dried graſs; the tail very ſhort, and ſcarce appearing; the mouth extending from ear to ear; the eye dull and heavy; the feet armed with three claws each, and made ſo ſhort, and ſet on ſo aukwardly, that a few paces is often the journey of a week; but though the feet are ſhort, they are ſtill longer than its legs, and theſe proceed from the body in ſuch an oblique direction, that the ſole of the foot ſeldom touches the ground. When the animal therefore is compelled to make a ſtep forward, it ſcrapes on the back of the nails along the ſurface, and wheeling the limbs circularly about, yet ſtill touching the ground, it at length places its foot in a progreſſive poſition; the other three limbs are all brought about with the ſame difficulty; and thus it is ſeen to move, not above three feet in an hour. In fact, this poor creature ſeldom changes place but by conſtraint, and when impelled by the ſevereſt ſtings of hunger.

[345]The ſloth ſeems to be the meaneſt and moſt ill-formed of all thoſe animals that chew the cud; it lives entirely upon vegetable food, on the leaves, the fruit, and the flowers of trees, and often even on the very bark, when nothing elſe is left on the tree for its ſubſiſtence. Like all other ruminant animals, it has four ſtomachs; and theſe requiring a large ſhare of proviſion to ſupply them, it generally ſtrips a tree of all its verdure in leſs than a fortnight. Still however it keeps aloft, unwilling to deſcend, while any thing remains that can ſerve it for food; it therefore falls to devouring the bark, and thus in a ſhort time kills the tree upon which it found its ſupport. Thus deſtitute of proviſions above, and crawling ſlowly from branch to branch, in hopes of finding ſomething ſtill left, it is at laſt obliged to encounter all the dangers that attend it below. Though it is formed by nature for climbing a tree with great pain and difficulty, yet it is utterly unable to deſcend; it therefore is obliged to drop from the branches to the ground, and as it is incapable of exerting itſelf to break the violence of its deſcent, it drops like a ſhapeleſs heavy maſs, and feels no ſmall ſhock in the fall. There, after remaining ſome time torpid, it prepares for a journey to ſome neighbouring tree; but [346] this of all migrations is the moſt tedious, dangerous, and painful; it often takes a week in crawling to a tree not fifty yards diſtant; it moves with imperceptible ſlowneſs, and often baits by the way. All motions ſeem to torture it, every ſtep it takes it ſets forth a moſt plaintive, melancholy cry, which from ſome diſtant ſimilitude to the human voice, excites a kind of diſguſt, mixed with pity. This plaintive ſound ſeems its chief defence, few quadrupedes appear willing to interrupt its progreſs, either that the fleſh is offenſive, or that they are terrified at its cries. When at length they reach their deſtined tree, they mount it with much greater eaſe than when they moved upon the plain. They fall to with famiſhed appetite, and as before, deſtroy the very ſource that ſupplies them.

How far theſe may be conſidered as the unfiniſhed productions of nature, I will not take upon me to determine; if we meaſure their happineſs by our ſenſations, nothing, it is certain, can be more miſerable; but it is probable, conſidered with regard to themſelves, they may have ſome ſtores of comfort unknown to us, which may ſet them upon a level with ſome other inferior ranks of the creation; if a part of their life be expoſed to pain and labour, it [347] is compenſated by a larger portion of plenty, indolence, and ſafety. In fact, they are formed very differently from all other quadrupedes, and it is probable, they have different enjoyments. Like birds, they have but one common vent for the purpoſes of propagation, excrement, and urine. Like the tortoiſe, which they reſemble, in the ſlowneſs of their motion, they continue to live ſome time after their nobler parts are wounded, or even taken away. They bear the marks of all thoſe comely-formed animals, that like rude machines are not eaſily diſcompoſed.

* Its note, according to Kircher, is an aſcending and deſcending hexachord, which it utters only by night; its look is ſo piteous, as to move compaſſion; it is alſo accompanied with tears, that diſſuade every body from injuring ſo wretched a being. Its abſtinence from food is remarkably powerful; one that had faſtened itſelf by its feet to a pole, and was ſo ſuſpended croſs two beams, remained forty days without meat, drink, or ſleep; the ſtrength of its feet is ſo great, that whatſoever it ſeizes on, cannot poſſibly be freed from its claws. A dog was let [348] looſe at the above-mentioned animal, taken from the pole; after ſome time the ſloth laid hold of the dog with its feet, and held him four days, till he periſhed with hunger.

CHAP. XXIII. The Gerbua.

[349]

THIS animal as little reſembles a quadrupede, as that which has been deſcribed in a former chapter. If we ſhould ſuppoſe a bird, diveſted of its feathers, and walking upon its legs, it might give us ſome idea of its figure. It has four feet indeed, but in running or reſting, it never makes uſe of any but the hinder. The number of legs, however, do not much contribute to any animal's ſpeed; and the gerbua, though properly ſpeaking, furniſhed but with two, is one of the ſwifteſt creatures in the world.

The gerbua is not above the ſize of a large rat, and its head is ſloped ſomewhat in the manner of a rabbit, the teeth alſo are formed like thoſe of the rat kind, there being two cutting teeth in each jaw; it has a very long tail, tufted at the end; the head, the back, and ſides are covered with large aſh-coloured ſoft hair; the breaſt and belly is whitiſh, but what moſt deſerves [350] our attention in the formation of this little animal, is the legs; the fore-legs are not an inch long, with four claws and a thumb upon each, while the hinder-legs are two inches and a quarter, and exactly reſemble thoſe of a bird, there being but three toes, the middlemoſt of which is longeſt.

The gerbua is found in Egypt, Barbary, Paleſtine, and the deſarts between Buſſerah and Aleppo; its hind-legs, as was ſaid before, are only uſed in running, while the fore-paws, like thoſe of a ſquirrel, graſp its food, and in ſome meaſure perform the office of hands. It is often ſeen by travellers as they paſs along the deſarts, croſſing their way, and jumping ſix or eight feet at every bound, and going ſo ſwiftly, that ſcarce any other quadrupede is able to overtake them. They are a lively, harmleſs race of animals, living entirely upon vegetables, and burrowing like rabbits in the ground. Mr. Pennant tells us of two that were lately brought to London, that burrowed almoſt through the brick wall of the room where they were kept; they came out of their hole at night for food, and when caught, were much fatter and ſlicker than when confined to their burrows. A variety of this animal is found alſo in Siberia and Circaſſia, and is moſt probably, common enough [351] over all Aſia. They are more expert diggers than even the rabbit itſelf; and when purſued for a long time, if they cannot eſcape by their ſwiftneſs, they try to make a hole inſtantly in the ground, in which they often bury themſelves deep enough to find ſecurity before their purſuers come up. Their burrows, in ſome places, are ſo thick, as to be dangerous to travellers, the horſes perpetually falling in them. It is a provident little animal, and lays up for the winter. It cuts graſs in heaps of a foot ſquare, which when dried, it carries into its burrow, therewith to ſerve it for food, or to keep its young warm during the rigours of the winter.

But of all animals of this kind, that which was firſt diſcovered and deſcribed by Mr. Banks, is the moſt extraordinary. He calls it the kanguroo; and though from its general outline, and the moſt ſtriking peculiarities of its figure, it greatly reſembles the gerbua, yet it entirely differs, if we conſider its ſize, or thoſe minute diſtinctions which direct the makers of ſyſtems in aſſorting the general ranks of nature.

The largeſt of the gerbua kind which are to be found in the ancient continent, do not exceed the ſize of a rabbit. The kanguroo of New Holland, where it is only to be found, is [351] [...] [352] often known to weigh above ſixty pounds, and muſt conſequently be as large as a ſheep. Although the ſkin of that which was ſtuffed and brought home by Mr. Banks, was not much above the ſize of a hare, yet it was greatly ſuperiour to any of the gerbua kind that have been hitherto known, and very different in many particulars. The ſnout of the gerbua, as has been ſaid, is ſhort and round, that of the new-diſcovered animal long and ſlender; the teeth alſo entirely differ; for as the gerbua has but two cutting teeth in each jaw, making four in all, this animal, beſides its cutting teeth, has four canine teeth alſo; but what makes a more ſtriking peculiarity, is the formation of its lower jaw, which, as the ingenious diſcoverer ſuppoſes, is divided into two parts, which open and ſhut like a pair of ſciſſars, and cut graſs, probably this animal's principal food. The head, neck, and ſhoulders are very ſmall in proportion to the other parts of the body; the tail is nearly as long as the body, thick near the rump, and tapering towards the end, the ſkin is covered with a ſhort fur, excepting the head and the ears, which bear a ſlight reſemblance to thoſe of the hare. We are not told, however, from the formation of its ſtomach, to what claſs of quadrupedes it belongs, from its eating [353] graſs, which it has been ſeen to do; one would be apt to rank it among the ruminant animals, but from the canine teeth which it is found to have, we may on the other hand ſuppoſe it to bear ſome relation to the carnivorous. Upon the whole, however, it can be claſſed with none more properly, than with animals of the gerbua kind, as its hind legs are ſo much longer than the fore; it moves alſo preciſely in the ſame manner, taking great bounds of ten or twelve feet at a time, and thus ſometimes eſcaping even the fleeteſt greyhound, with which Mr. Banks purſued it. One of them, that was killed, proved to be good food; but a ſecond, which weighed eighty-four pounds, and was not yet come to its full growth, was found to be much inferior.

With this laſt deſcribed and laſt diſcovered animal, I ſhall conclude the hiſtory of quadrupedes, which of all parts of natural knowledge ſeems to have been deſcribed the moſt accurately. As theſe, from their figure, as well as their ſagacity, bear the neareſt reſemblance to man, and from their uſes or enmities are the moſt reſpectable parts of the inferior creation, ſo it was his intereſt, and his pleaſure, to make himſelf acquainted with their hiſtory. It is probable therefore that time, which enlarges the ſphere [354] of our knowledge in other parts of learning, can add but very little to this. The addition of a new quadrupede to the catalogue already known, is of no ſmall conſequence, and happens but ſeldom; for the number of all is ſo few, that wherever a new one is found, it becomes an object worthy our beſt attention. It may take refuge in its native deſarts from our purſuits, but not from our curioſity.

But it is very different with the inferior ranks of the creation; the claſſes of birds, of fiſhes, and of inſects, are all much more numerous, and more incompletely known. The quadrupede is poſſeſſed of no arts of eſcaping, which we are not able to overcome; but the bird removes itſelf by its ſwiftneſs, the fiſhes find protection in their native element, and inſects are ſecured in their minuteneſs, numbers, and variety. Of all theſe therefore, we have but a very inadequate catalogue, and though the liſt be already very large, yet every hour is adding to its extent.

In fact, all knowledge is pleaſant only as the object of it contributes to render man happy, and the ſervices of quadrupedes being ſo very neceſſary to him in every ſituation, he is particularly intereſted in their hiſtory: without their aid, what a wretched and forlorn [355] creature would he have been! the principal part of his food, his cloathing, and his amuſements are derived wholly from them, and he may be conſidered as a great lord, ſometimes cheriſhing his humble dependants, and ſometimes terrifying the refractory, to contribute to his delight and conveniencies.

The horſe and the aſs, the elephant, the camel, the lama, and the rein-deer, contribute to eaſe his fatigues, and to give him that ſwiftneſs which he wants from nature. By their aſſiſtance, he changes place without labour; he attains health without wearineſs; his pride is inlarged by the elegance of equipage, and other animals are purſued with a certainty of ſucceſs. It were happy indeed for man, if while converting theſe quadrupedes to his own benefit, he had not turned them to the deſtruction of his fellow-creatures; he has employed ſome of them for the purpoſes of war, and they have conformed to his noxious ambition with but too fatal an obedience.

The cow, the ſheep, the deer, and all their varieties, are neceſſary to him, though in a different manner. Their fleſh makes the principal luxuries of his table, and their wool or ſkins the chief ornament of his perſon. Even thoſe nations that are forbid to touch [356] any thing that has life, cannot wholly diſpenſe with their aſſiſtance. The milk of theſe animals makes a principal part of the food of every country, and often repairs thoſe conſtitutions that have been broken by diſeaſe or intemperance.

The dog, the cat, and the ferret, may be conſidered as having deſerted from their fellow-quadrupedes, to liſt themſelves under the conduct and protection of man. At his command they exert all their ſervices againſt ſuch animals as they are capable of deſtroying, and follow them into places where he himſelf wants abilities to purſue.

As there is thus a numerous tribe, that he has taken into protection, and that ſupplies his neceſſities and amuſements, ſo there is alſo a ſtill more numerous one, that wages an unequal combat againſt him, and thus call forth his courage and his induſtry. Were it not for the lion, the tyger, the panther, the rhinoceros, and the bear, he would ſcarce know his own powers, and the ſuperiority of human art over brutal fierceneſs. Theſe ſerve to excite, and put his nobler paſſions into motion. He attacks them in their retreat, faces them with reſolution, and ſeldom fails of coming off with a victory. He thus becomes [357] hardier and better in the ſtruggle, and learns to know and to value his own ſuperiority.

As the laſt mentioned animals are called forth by his boldeſt efforts, ſo the numerous tribe of the ſmaller vermin kind excite his continual vigilance and caution; his various arts and powers have been no where more manifeſt, than in the extirpation of thoſe that multiply with ſuch prodigious fecundity. Neither their agility nor their minuteneſs can ſecure them from his purſuits; and though they may infeſt, they are ſeldom found materially to injure him.

In this manner we ſee, that not only human want is ſupplied, but that human wit is ſharpened, by the humbler partners of man in the creation. By this we ſee, that not only their benefits, but their depredations are uſeful, and that it has wiſely pleaſed Providence to place us like victors in a ſubdued country, where we have all the benefit of conqueſt, without being ſo ſecure, as to run into the ſloth and exceſſes of a certain and undiſturbed poſſeſſion. It appears therefore, that thoſe writers who are continually finding immediate benefit in every production, ſee but half way into the general ſyſtem of nature. Experience muſt every hour [538] inform us, that all animals are not formed for our uſe; but we may be equally well aſſured, that thoſe conveniencies which we want from their friendſhip, are well repaid by that vigilance which we procure from their enmity.

END OF THE FOURTH VOLUME.
Notes
*
Buffon. vol. xiii. p. 12.
*
Buffon, vol. xiii. p. 12.
*
Buffon, vol. xiii. p. 12.
*
Buffon, vol. xiii. p. 12.
*
Klein Diſp. Quadrup. p. 52.
Jonſton de Quad. L. ii. C. 2.
Dictionnaire Raiſonée Lievre.
*
Hiſt. Gen. des Voyages, tom iv. p. 171.
*
Vid. Apicii, &c.
*
Buffon.
*
Buffon.
*
Mr. Moutier, as quoted by Mr. Buffon.
*
Mr. Moutier, as quoted by Mr. Buffon.
*
Klein. Linnaeus.
*
Buffon.
Britiſh Zoology.
*
‘He may eaſily be made tame; but he is apt to do a great deal of damage in the corn fields, becauſe he will crop the corn as ſoon as it begins to ear! BROOKE's NAT. HIST.
*
Buffon, from whence the remainder of this deſcription is taken. N. B. He takes it from Ceſner, vol. xvii.
*
Buffon, vol. xvi. Loir [...].
*
Dictionnaire Raiſonnée, vol. iii. p. 29.
*
Buffon.
*
Ray's Synop.
*
This hiſtory is partly taken from the Amaenitates Accademicae, vol. iv. p. 202.
*
Buffon, vol. xvii. p. 2.
*
Buffon, vol. xv. p. 145.
*
‘E volucribus hirundines ſunt indociles, e terreſtibus mures. PLIN.
Buffon, vol. xv. p. 147.
*
Liſle's Huſbandry, vol. ii. p. 391.
*
Buffon, vol. xx. p. 4.
*
Buffon, vol. xxvi. p. 159.
*
Phil. Tranſ. vol. ii. p. 872.
*
Dictonnaire Raiſonnée, vol. ii. p. 610.
*
Britiſh Zoology.
*
‘Teſtes habet maximos, paraſtatas ampliſſimas, novum corpus ſeminale ab his diverſum ac ſeparatum. Penem etiam facile omnium, ni fallor, animalium longiſſimum, ex quibus colligere eſt maximam prae reliquis omnibus animalibus voluptatem in coitu, hoc abjectum et vile animalculum percipere, ut habeant quod ipſi invideant qui in hoc ſupremas vitae ſuae delicias collocant: Ray's Synopſ. quadrup. p. 239. Huic opinioni aſſentitur D. Buffon, attamen non mihi apparet magnitudinem partium talem voluptatem augere. Maribus enim ſalaciſſimis contrarium obtinet.’
*
Praeputium propendeus. Linnaei Syſt. 75. And of the female he might have ſaid, reſupina copulatur.
*
Buffon, vol. xxv. p. 254.
*
Boſman. Smith. L. P. Vincent Marie, &c.
Buffon.
*
This chapter is chiefly extracted from Mr. Buffon, which I mention at once, to ſave the trouble of repeated quotation.
*
Penis Propendens.
Britiſh Zoology.
*
Fauna Succica. p. 8.
*
Des Marchais, vol. ii. p. 208.
*
Ulloa, vol. i. p. 58.
*
Journal Etranger, Juin. 1755, p. 14.
*
Ray.
*
Buffon.
*
Spectacle de la Nature.
*
I have followed the uſual obſervations of naturaliſts with reſpect to the foramen ovale in this animal: I have many reaſons, however, to incline me to think that the foramen is not entirely open. But this is not the place for a critical enquiry of this kind.
*
Buffon.
*
Krantz, vol. i, p. 129.
*
‘Coeunt in Littore reſupinata femina. LIN. SYST.
*
Linnaei Syſt.
*
Britiſh Zoology, vol. i. p. 75.
*
Acta Petripolitana.
*
As quoted by Buffon, vol. xxviii. p. 77.
*
Le Compte's Hiſtory of China.
*
Le Broſſe, as quoted by Buffon, vol. xxviii. p. 70.
*
‘Omnes fem [...]ae hujuſce et precedentium, ut et fere ſequentium ſpecierum menſtruali patiuntur [...]uxu ſicut in feminis.’
*
Buffon, vol. xxviii. p. 183.
*
Deſcription Hiſtorique de Macacar, p. 51.
*
Labat, Relat. del Afriq. Occident, p. 317.
*
Labat, Relat. de l'Afriq. Occident, p. 317.
*
Buffon, vol. xxvi. p. 274.
*
Buffon, vol. xxi. p. 174.
*
Buffon, vol. xxi. p. 212.
*
I have extracted the greateſt part of this deſcription from Mr. Buffon. Where I add, I mark with commas, "thus."
*
See Mr. Daubenton's deſcription of the ſkeleton of this animal.
*
P. Vincent Marie.
P. Tachard.
*
‘Multis perſuaſum eſt Elephantem non brutorum ſed hominum more coire. Quod retro mingit non dubitatur. Sed ipſe vidi marem hujuſce ſpeciei, in noſtri regis ſtabulis ſuper faemellam itidem incluſam quadrupedum more ſilientem, pene paululum incurva [...] ſed ſufficiente [...] recto.’
*
Pennant's Synopſis, p. 90.
*
Buffon.
*
Pennant's Synopſis.
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Citation Suggestion for this Object
TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 5337 An history of the earth and animated nature by Oliver Goldsmith In eight volumes pt 4. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-57C5-4