[]AN HISTORY OF ANIMALS.

THE BUFFALO.

IF we ſhould compare the ſhape of our com⯑mon cow with that of the biſon, the difference will appear very great. The ſhaggy mane of the latter, the beard, the curled forehead, the inverted horns, the broad breaſt, and the narrow hinder parts, give it the appearance rather of [26] a lion than a cow; and fit it more for a ſtate of war with mankind, than a ſtate of ſervitude. Yet, notwithſtanding theſe appearances, both animals are found to be the ſame; or at leaſt ſo nearly allied, that they breed among each other, and propagate a race that continues the kind.

On the other hand, if we compare the buffalo with our common cow, no two animals can be more nearly alike, either in their form or their nature; both equally ſubmiſſive to the yoke, both often living under the ſame roof, and em⯑ployed in the ſame domeſtic ſervices; the make and the turn of their bodies ſo much alike, that it requires a cloſe attention to diſtinguiſh them: and yet, after all this, no two animals can be more diſtinct, or ſeem to have ſtronger anti⯑pathies to each other^*. Were there but one of each kind remaining, it is probable the race of both would ſhortly be extinct. However, ſuch is the fixed averſion formed between theſe creatures, that the cow refuſes to breed with the buffalo, which it nearly reſembles; while it is known to propagate with the biſon, to which it has, in point of form, but a very diſtant ſimilitude.

The buffalo is, upon the whole, by no means ſo beautiful a creature as the cow; his figure [27] is more clumſy and aukward; his air is wilder; and he carries his head lower, and nearer the ground; his limbs are leſs fleſhy, and his tail more naked of hair; his body is ſhorter and thicker than that of the cow kind; his legs are higher; his head ſmaller; his horns not ſo round, black, and compreſſed, with a bunch of curled hair hanging down between them; his ſkin is alſo harder and thicker, more black, and leſs furniſhed with hair; his fleſh, which is hard and blackiſh, is not only diſagreeable to the taſte, but likewiſe to the ſmell. The milk of the female is by no means ſo good as that of the cow; it is however produced in great abundance. In the warm countries, almoſt all their cheeſe is made of the milk of the buffalo; and they ſupply butter alſo in large quantities. The veal of the young buffalo is not better eating than the beef of the old. The hide of this animal ſeems to be the moſt valuable thing he furniſhes. The leather made of it is well known for its thickneſs, ſoftneſs, and impene⯑trability. As theſe animals are, in general, larger and ſtronger than the cow, they are uſe⯑fully employed in agriculture. They are uſed in drawing burthens, and ſometimes in carrying them; being guided by a ring, which is thruſt through their noſe. Two buffaloes yoaked in a [28] waggon are ſaid to draw more than four ſtrong horſes; as their heads and necks are naturally bent downward, they are thus better fitted for the draught, and the whole weight of their bodies is applied to the carriage that is to be drawn forward.

From the ſize and bulk of the buffalo, we may be eaſily led to conclude that he is a native of the warmer climates. The largeſt quadru⯑pedes are generally found in the torrid zone; and the buffalo is inferior, in point of ſize, only to the elephant, the rhinoceros, or the hippopotamos. The camelopard, or the camel, may, indeed, be taller, but they are neither ſo long, or near ſo corpulent. Accordingly, we find this animal wild in many parts of India; and tamed alſo wherever the natives have oc⯑caſion for his ſervices. The wild buffaloes are very dangerous animals, and are often found to gore travellers to death, and then trample them with their feet, until they have entirely mangled the whole body: however, in the woods they are not ſo much to be feared as in the plains, becauſe in the violence of their purſuit their large horns are apt to be entangled in the branches of the trees, which gives thoſe who have been ſurprized by them, time to eſcape the danger. There is ſcarce any [29] other method of avoiding their purſuit; they run with great ſwiftneſs; they overturn a tree of moderate growth; and are ſuch ſwimmers, as to croſs the largeſt rivers without any difficulty. In this manner, like all other large animals of the torrid zone, they are very fond of the water; and, in the midſt of their purſuit, often plunge in, in order to cool themſelves. The Negroes of Guinea, and the Indians of Malabar, where buffaloes are in great abundance, take great delight in hunting and deſtroying them; how⯑ever, they never attempt to face the buffalo openly, but, generally climbing up a tree, ſhoot at him from thence, and do not come down till they find they have effectually diſpatched him. However, when they are tamed, no animal can be more patient or humble; and though by no means ſo docile as the cow kind, yet they go through domeſtic drudgeries with more ſtrength and perſeverance.

Although theſe animals be chiefly found in the torrid zone, yet they are bred in ſeveral parts of Europe, particularly in Italy, where they make the food and the riches of the poor. The female produces but one at a time, in the ſame manner as the cow; but they are very dif⯑ferent in the times of geſtation; for the cow, as we know, goes but nine months; whereas the [30] buffalo continues pregnant for twelve. They are all afraid of fire; and, perhaps, in conſe⯑quence of this, have an averſion to red colours, that reſemble the colour of flame: it is ſaid, that in thoſe countries where they are found in plenty, no perſon dares to dreſs in ſcarlet. In general they are inoffenſive animals, if un⯑diſturbed; as indeed all thoſe which feed upon graſs are found to be; but when they are wounded, or when even but fired at, nothing then can ſtop their fury; they then turn up the ground with their fore feet, bellow much louder and more terribly than the bull, and make at the object of their reſentment with un⯑governable rage. It is happy, in ſuch circum⯑ſtances, if the perſon they purſue has a wall to eſcape over, or ſome ſuch obſtacle, otherwiſe they ſoon overtake, and inſtantly deſtroy him. It is remarkable, however, that although their horns are ſo very formidable, they in general make more uſe of their feet in combat, and rather tread their enemies to death than gore them.

Having thus gone through the hiſtory of theſe animals, it may be proper to obſerve, that no names have been more indiſcriminately uſed than thoſe of the bull, the urus, the biſon, and the buffalo. It therefore becomes ſuch as [31] would have diſtinct ideas of each, to be careful in ſeparating the kinds, the one from the other, allowing the cow for the ſtandard of all. The urus, whether of the large enormous kind of Lithuania, or the ſmaller race of Spain, whether with long or ſhort horns, whether with or with⯑out long hair in the forehead, is every way the ſame with what our common breed was before they were taken from the foreſt, and reduced to a ſtate of ſervitude. The biſon, and all its varieties, which are known by an hump between the ſhoulders, is alſo to be ranked in the ſame claſs. This animal, whether with crooked or ſtrait horns, whether they be turned towards the cheek, or totally wanting, whether it be large or diminutive, whatever be its colour, or whatever the length of its hair, whether called the bonaſus by ſome, or the bubalus by others, is but a variety of the cow kind, with whom it breeds, and with whom of conſequence it has the cloſeſt connection. Laſtly, the buffalo, though ſhaped much more like the cow, is a diſtinct kind by itſelf, that never mixes with any of the former; that goes twelve months with young; whereas the cow goes but nine; that teſtifies an averſion to the latter; and, though bred under the ſame roof, or feeding in the ſame paſture, has always kept ſeparate; and [32] makes a diſtinct race in all parts of the world. Theſe two kinds are ſuppoſed to be the only real varieties in the cow kind, of which natu⯑raliſts have given ſo many varieties. With re⯑ſpect to ſome circumſtances mentioned by tra⯑vellers, ſuch as that of many kinds defending themſelves by voiding their dung againſt their purſuers; this is a practice which they have in common with other timid creatures when pur⯑ſued, and ariſes rather from fear than a deſire of defence. The muſky ſmell alſo by which ſome have been diſtinguiſhed, is found common to many of theſe kinds, in a ſtate of nature; and does not properly make the characteriſtic marks of any. The particular kind of noiſe alſo which ſome of them are known to make, which rather reſembles grunting than bellow⯑ing or lowing, is but a ſavage variety, which many wild animals have, and yet loſe when brought into a ſtate of tameneſs. For theſe reaſons, Mr. Buffon, whom I have followed in this deſcription, is of opinion, that the zebu, or little African cow, and the grunting, or Sibe⯑rian cow, are but different races of the biſon; as the ſhape of the horns, or the length of the hair, are never properly characteriſtic marks of any animal, but are found to vary with climate, food, and cultivation.

[33]In this manner the number of animals of the cow kind, which naturaliſts have extended to eight or ten ſorts, are reduced to two; and as the utmoſt deference is paid to the opinion of Mr. Buffon in this particular, I have taken him for my guide. Nevertheleſs, there is an animal of the cow kind, which neither he, nor any other naturaliſt that I know of, has hitherto de⯑ſcribed, yet which makes a very diſtinct claſs, and may be added as a third ſpecies.

This animal was ſhewn ſome years ago in London, and ſeemed to unite many of the characteriſtics of the cow and the hog; hav⯑ing the head, the horns, and the tail of the former; with the briſtles, the colour, and the grunting of the latter. It was about the ſize of an aſs, but broader and thicker; the colour reſembling that of an hog, and the hair briſtly, as in that animal. The hair upon the body was thin, as in the hog; and a row of briſtles ran along the ſpine, rather ſhorter and ſofter than in the hog kind. The head was rather larger than that of a cow; the teeth were en⯑tirely reſembling thoſe of that animal, and the tongue was rough in like manner. It fed upon hay; and, conſequently, its internal confor⯑mation muſt have reſembled that of the cow [34] kind more than the hog, whoſe food is always choſen of a kind more ſucculent. The eyes were placed in the head as with the cow, and were pretty nearly of the ſame colour; the horns were black and flattiſh, but bent rather backwards to the neck, as in the goat kind; the neck was ſhort and thick, and the back rather riſing in the middle; it was cloven footed, like the cow, without thoſe hinder claws that are found in the hog kinds. But the greateſt variety of all in this extraordinary creature, which was a female, was, that it had but two teats, and, conſe⯑quently, in that reſpect, reſembled neither of the kinds to which, in other circumſtances, it bore ſo ſtrong a ſimilitude. Whether this ani⯑mal was a diſtinct kind, or a monſter, I will not pretend to ſay; it was ſhewn under the name of the bonafus; and it was ſaid, by the per⯑ſon who ſhewed it, to have come from India: but no credit is to be given to intereſted ig⯑norance; the perſon only wanted to make the animal appear as extraordinary as poſſible; and I believe would ſcarcely ſcruple a lie or two, to encreaſe that wonder in us, by which he found the means of living.

THE SHEEP.

THOSE animals that take refuge under the protection of man, in a few generations be⯑come indolent and helpleſs. Having loſt the habit of ſelf-defence, they ſeem to loſe alſo the inſtincts of nature. The ſheep, in its preſent domeſtic ſtate, is of all animals the moſt de⯑fenceleſs and inoffenſive. With its liberty it ſeems to have been deprived of its ſwiftneſs and cunning; and what in the aſs might rather be called patience, in the ſheep appears to be ſtupidity. With no one quality to fit it for ſelf-preſervation, it makes vain efforts at all. Without ſwiftneſs, it endeavours to fly; and without ſtrength, ſometimes offers to oppoſe. But theſe feeble attempts rather incite than re⯑preſs the inſults of every enemy; and the dog follows the flock with greater delight upon ſeeing them fly, and attacks them with more fierceneſs upon their unſupported attempts at reſiſtance. Indeed they run together in flocks; rather with the hopes of loſing their ſingle danger in the crowd, than of uniting to repreſs the attack by numbers. The ſheep, therefore, were it expoſed in its preſent ſtate to ſtruggle with its natural enemies of the foreſt, it would [39] ſoon be extirpated. Loaded with an heavy fleece, deprived of the defence of its horns, and rendered heavy, ſlow, and feeble, it can have no other ſafety but what it finds from man. This animal is now, therefore, obliged to rely ſolely upon that art for protection, to which it originally owes its degradation.

But we are not to impute to Nature the formation of an animal ſo utterly unprovided againſt its enemies, and ſo unfit for defence. The moufflon, which is the ſheep in a ſavage ſtate, is a bold, fleet creature, able to eſcape from the greater animals by its ſwiftneſs, or to oppoſe the ſmaller kinds with the arms it has received from Nature. It is by human art alone that the ſheep is become the tardy de⯑fenceleſs creature we find it. Every race of quadrupedes might eaſily be corrupted by the ſame allurements by which the ſheep has been thus debilitated and depreſſed. While undi⯑ſturbed, and properly ſupplied, none are found to ſet any bounds to their appetite. They all purſue their food while able, and continue to graze, till they often die of diſorders occaſioned by too much fatneſs. But it is very different with them in a ſtate of nature: they are in the foreſt ſurrounded by dangers, and alarmed with unceaſing hoſtilities; they are purſued [40] every hour from one tract of country to ano⯑ther; and ſpend a great part of their time in attempts to avoid their enemies. Thus con⯑ſtantly exerciſed, and continually practiſing all the arts of defence and eſcape, the animal at once preſerves its life and native independance, together with its ſwiftneſs, and the ſlender agi⯑lity of its form.

The ſheep, in its ſervile ſtate, ſeems to be di⯑veſted of all inclinations of its own; and of all animals it appears the moſt ſtupid. Every qua⯑drupede has a peculiar turn of countenance, a phyſiognomy, if we may ſo call it, that generally marks its nature. The ſheep ſeems to have none of thoſe traits that betoken either courage or cunning; its large eyes, ſeparated from each other, its ears ſticking out on each ſide, and its narrow noſtrils, all teſtify the extreme ſimpli⯑city of this creature; and the poſition of its horns alſo, ſhew that Nature deſigned the ſheep rather for flight than combat. It appears a large maſs of fleſh, ſupported upon four ſmall ſtrait legs, ill fitted for carrying ſuch a burthen; its mo⯑tions are aukward, it is eaſily fatigued, and often ſinks under the weight of its own cor⯑pulency. In proportion as theſe marks of human transformation are more numerous, the animal becomes more helpleſs and ſtupid. Thoſe which live upon a more fertile paſture, [41] and grow fat, become entirely feeble; thoſe that want horns, are found more dull and heavy than the reſt^*; thoſe whoſe fleeces are longeſt and fineſt, are moſt ſubject to a variety of diſorders; and, in ſhort, whatever changes have been wrought in this animal by the in⯑duſtry of man, are entirely calculated for human advantage, and not for that of the creature itſelf. It might require a ſucceſſion of ages, before the ſheep could be reſtored to its primitive ſtate of activity, ſo as to become a match for its purſuers of the foreſt.

The goat, which it reſembles in ſo many other reſpects, is much its ſuperior. The one has its particular attachments, ſees danger, and generally contrives to eſcape it; but the other is timid without a cauſe, and ſecure when real danger approaches. Nor is the ſheep, when bred up tame in the houſe, and familiarized with its keepers, leſs obſtinately abſurd: from being dull and timid, it then acquires a de⯑gree of pert familiarity; buts with its head, be⯑comes miſchievous, and ſhews itſelf every way unworthy of being ſingled out from the reſt of the flock. Thus it ſeems rather formed for ſlavery than friendſhip; and framed more for the neceſſities than the amuſements of [42] mankind. There is but one inſtance in which the ſheep ſhews any attachment to its keeper; and that is ſeen rather on the continent, than among us in Great Britain. What I allude to is, their following the ſound of the ſhepherd's pipe. Before I had ſeen them trained in this manner, I had no conception of thoſe deſcrip⯑tions in the old paſtoral poets, of the ſhepherd leading his flock from one country to another. As I had been uſed only to ſee theſe harmleſs creatures driven before their keepers, I ſup⯑poſed that all the reſt was but invention: but in many parts of the Alps, and even ſome provinces of France, the ſhepherd and his pipe are ſtill continued, with true antique ſimplicity. The flock is regularly penned every evening, to pre⯑ſerve them from the wolf; and the ſhepherd re⯑turns homeward at ſun-ſet, with his ſheep fol⯑lowing him, and ſeemingly pleaſed with the ſound of the pipe, which is blown with a reed, and reſembles the chanter of a bag-pipe. In this manner, in thoſe countries that ſtill con⯑tinue poor, the Arcadian life is preſerved in all its former purity; but in countries where a greater inequality of conditions prevail, the ſhepherd is generally ſome poor wretch who attends a flock from which he is to derive no [43] benefits, and only guards thoſe luxuries which he is not fated to ſhare

It does not appear, from early writers, that the ſheep was bred in Britain; and it was not till ſeveral ages after this animal was cultivated, that the woollen manufacture was carried on among us^*. That valuable branch of buſineſs lay for a conſiderable time in foreign hands; and we were obliged to import the cloth, manu⯑factured from our own materials. There were, notwithſtanding, many unavailing efforts among our kings to introduce and preſerve the manu⯑facture at home. Henry the Second, by a pa⯑tent granted to the weavers in London, directed, that if any cloth was found made of a mixture of Spaniſh wool, it ſhould be burned by the mayor. Such edicts at length, although but ſlow⯑ly, operated towards the eſtabliſhing this trade among us. The Flemings, who at the revival of arts poſſeſſed the art of cloth-working in a ſupe⯑rior degree, were invited to ſettle here; and, ſoon after, foreign cloth was prohibited from being worn in England. In the times of queen Elizabeth, this manufacture received every en⯑couragement; and many of the inhabitants of the Netherlands being then forced, by the tyranny of Spain, to take refuge in this [44] country, they improved us in thoſe arts, in which we at preſent excell the reſt of the world. Every art, however, has its riſe, its meridian, and its decline; and it is ſuppoſed by many, that the woollen manufacture has for ſome time been decaying amongſt us. The cloth now made is thought to be much worſe than that of ſome years paſt; being neither ſo firm nor ſo fine, neither ſo much courted abroad, nor ſo ſerviceable at home.

No country, however, produces ſuch ſheep as England; either with larger fleeces, or better adapted for the buſineſs of cloathing. Thoſe of Spain, indeed, are finer, and we generally require ſome of their wool to work up with our own; but the weight of a Spaniſh fleece is no way comparable to one of Lincoln or Warwickſhire; and, in thoſe counties, it is no uncommon thing to give fifty guineas for a ram.

The ſheep without horns are counted the beſt ſort, becauſe a great part of the animal's nouriſhment is ſuppoſed to go up into the horns^*. Sheep, like other ruminant animals, want the upper fore teeth; but have eight in the lower jaw: two of theſe drop, and are re⯑placed at two years old; four of them are re⯑placed [45] at three years old; and all at four. The new teeth are eaſily known from the reſt, by their freſhneſs and whiteneſs. There are ſome breeds, however, in England, that never change their teeth at all; theſe the ſhepherds call the leather mouthed cattle; and, as their teeth are thus longer wearing, they are gene⯑rally ſuppoſed to grow old a year or two be⯑fore the reſt^*. The ſheep bring forth one or two at a time; and ſometimes three or four. The firſt lamb of an ewe is generally pot⯑bellied, ſhort and thick, and of leſs value than thoſe of a ſecond or third production; the third being ſuppoſed the beſt of all. They bear their young five months; and, by being houſed, they bring forth at any time of the year.

But this animal, in its domeſtic ſtate, is too well known to require a detail of its peculiar habits, or of the arts which have been uſed to improve the breed. Indeed, in the eye of an obſerver of Nature, every art which tends to render the creature more helpleſs and uſeleſs to itſelf, may be conſidered rather as an injury than an improvement; and if we are to look for this animal in its nobleſt ſtate, we muſt ſeek for it in the African deſert, or the extenſive plains of Siberia. Among the degenerate [46] deſcendants of the wild ſheep, there have been ſo many changes wrought, as entirely to diſ⯑guiſe the kind, and often to miſlead the ob⯑ſerver. The variety is ſo great that ſcarce any two countries has its ſheep of the ſame kind; but there is found a manifeſt difference in all, either in the ſize, the covering, the ſhape, or the horns.

The woolly ſheep^*, as it is ſeen among us, is found only in Europe, and ſome of the tem⯑perate provinces of Aſia. When tranſported into warmer countries, either into Florida or Guinea, it loſes its wool, and aſſumes a co⯑vering fitted to the climate, becoming hairy and rough; it there alſo loſes its fertility, and its fleſh no longer has the ſame flavour. In the ſame manner, in the very cold countries, it ſeems equally helpleſs and a ſtranger; it ſtill requires the unceaſing attention of mankind for its preſervation; and although it is found to ſubſiſt, as well in Greenland as in Guinea^†, yet it ſeems a natural inhabitant of neither.

Of the domeſtic kinds to be found in the different parts of the world, beſides our own, which is common in Europe, the firſt variety is to be ſeen in Iceland, Muſcovy, and the coldeſt climates of the north. This, which [47] may be called the Iceland ſheep, reſembles our breed, in the form of the body and the tail; but differs in a very extraordinary manner in the number of the horns; being generally found to have four, and ſometimes even eight, growing from different parts of the forehead. Theſe are large and formidable; and the animal ſeems thus fitted by Nature for a ſtate of war: how⯑ever, it is of the nature of the reſt of its kind, being mild, gentle, and timid. Its wool is very different, alſo, from that of the common ſheep, being long, ſmooth, and hairy. Its colour is of a dark brown; and under its outward coat of hair, it has an internal covering, that rather reſembles fur than wool, being fine, ſhort, and ſoft.

The ſecond variety to be found in this ani⯑mal, is that of the broad tail'd ſheep, ſo com⯑mon in Tartary, Arabia, Perſia, Barbary, Sy⯑ria, and Egypt. This ſheep is only remarkable for its large and heavy tail, which is often found to weigh from twenty to thirty pounds. It ſometimes grows a foot broad, and is obliged to be ſupported by a ſmall kind of board, that goes upon wheels. This tail is not covered un⯑derneath with wool, like the upper part, but is bare; and the natives, who conſider it as a very great delicacy, are very careful in attending and [48] preſerving it from injury. Mr. Buffon ſuppoſes that the fat which falls into the caul in our ſheep, goes in theſe to furniſh the tail; and that the reſt of the body is from thence deprived of fat in proportion. With regard to their fleeces, in the temperate climates, they are, as in our own breed, ſoft and woolly; but in the warmer latitudes, they are hairy: yet in both they preſerve the enormous ſize of their tails.

The third obſervable variety is that of the ſheep called ſtrepſicheros. This animal is a native of the iſlands of the Archipelago, and only differs from our ſheep, in having ſtrait horns, ſurrounded with a ſpiral furrow.

Such are the varieties of this animal, which have been reduced into a ſtate of domeſtic ſer⯑vitude. Theſe are all capable of producing among each other; all the peculiarities of their form have been made by climate and human cultivation; and none of them ſeem ſufficiently independent, to live in a ſtate of ſavage nature. They are, therefore, to be conſidered as a de⯑generate race, formed by the hand of man, and propagated merely for his benefit. At the ſame time, while man thus cultivates the domeſtic kinds, he drives away and deſtroys the ſavage race, which are leſs beneficial, and more head⯑ſtrong. Theſe, therefore, are to be found in but a very ſmall number, in the moſt uncul⯑tivated countries, where they have been able to ſubſiſt by their native ſwiftneſs and ſtrength. It is in the more uncultivated parts of Greece, Sardinia, Corſica, and particularly in the deſarts of Tartary, that the mufflon is to be found, that bears all the marks of being the primitive race; and that has been actually known to breed with the domeſtic animal.

The moufflon, or muſmon, though covered [] [...] [49] [...] [50] with hair, bears a ſtronger ſimilitude to the ram than to any other animal; like the ram, it has the eyes placed near the horns; and its ears are ſhorter than thoſe of the goat: it alſo re⯑ſembles the ram in its horns, and in all the par⯑ticular contours of its form. The horns alſo are alike; they are of a yellow colour they have three ſides, as in the ram, and bend backwards in the ſame manner behind the ears. The muzzle, and the inſide of the ears, are of a whitiſh colour, tinctured with yellow; the other parts of the face are of a browniſh grey. The general co⯑lour of the hair over the body is of a brown, approaching to that of the red deer. The in⯑ſide of the thighs and belly, are of a white, tinctured with yellow. The form, upon the whole, ſeems more made for agility and ſtrength than that of the common ſheep; and the moufflon is actually found to live in a ſavage ſtate, and maintain itſelf, either by force or ſwiftneſs, againſt all the animals that live by rapine. Such is its extreme ſpeed, that many have been inclined rather to rank it among the deer kind, than the ſheep. But in this they are deceived, as the muſmon has a mark that en⯑tirely diſtinguiſhes it from that ſpecies, being known never to ſhed its horns. In ſome theſe are ſeen to grow to a ſurprizing ſize; many of [51] them meaſuring, in their convolutions, above two ells long. They are of a yellow colour, as was ſaid; but the older the animal grows, the darker the horns become: with theſe they often maintain very furious battles between each other; and ſometimes they are found broken off in ſuch a manner, that the ſmall animals of the foreſt creep into the cavity for ſhelter^*. When the muſmon is ſeen ſtanding on the plain, his fore legs are always ſtrait, while his hinder legs ſeem bent under him; but in caſes of more active neceſſity, this ſeeming deformity is removed, and he moves with great ſwiftneſs and agility. The female very much reſembles the male of this ſpecies, but that ſhe is leſs, and her horns alſo are never ſeen to grow to that prodigious ſize they are of in the wild ram. Such is the ſheep in its ſavage ſtate; a bold, noble, and even beautiful animal: but it is not the moſt beautiful creatures that are always found moſt uſeful to man. Human induſtry has therefore deſtroyed its grace, to improve its utility.

THE GOAT, AND ITS NUMEROUS VARIETIES.

THERE are ſome domeſtic animals that ſeem as auxiliaries to the more uſeful ſorts; and, that by ceaſing to be the firſt, are con⯑ſidered as nothing. We have ſeen the ſervices of the aſs ſlighted, becauſe inferior to thoſe of the horſe; and, in the ſame manner, thoſe of the goat are held cheap, becauſe the ſheep ſo far exceeds it. Were the horſe or the ſheep removed from nature, the inferior kinds would then be invaluable; and the ſame arts would probably be beſtowed in perfecting their kinds, that the higher order of animals have experienced. But in their preſent neg⯑lected ſtate, they vary but little from the wild animals of the ſame kind; man has left them their primitive habits and forms; and the leſs they owe to his aſſiduity, the more they receive from nature.

The goat ſeems, in every reſpect, more fitted for a life of ſavage liberty than the ſheep^*. It is naturally more lively, and more poſſeſſed with animal inſtinct. It eaſily attaches itſelf to man, and ſeems ſenſible of his careſſes. [53] It is alſo ſtronger and ſwifter, more courageous, and more playful, lively, capricious, and va⯑grant: it is not eaſily confined to its flock, but chuſes its own paſtures, and loves to ſtray re⯑mote from the reſt. It chiefly delights in climb⯑ing precipices; in going to the very edge of danger: it is often ſeen ſuſpended upon an eminence hanging over the ſea, upon a very little baſe, and even ſleeps there in ſecurity. Nature has, in ſome meaſure, fitted it for tra⯑verſing theſe declivities with eaſe; the hoof is hollow underneath, with ſharp edges, ſo that it walks as ſecurely on the ridge of an houſe, as on the level ground. It is an hardy animal, and very eaſily ſuſtained; for which reaſon it is chiefly the property of the poor, who have no paſtures with which to ſupply it. Happily, however, it ſeems better pleaſed with the neg⯑lected wild, than the cultivated fields of art; it chuſes the heathy mountain, or the ſhrubby rock; its favourite food is the tops of the boughs, or the tender bark of young trees: it ſeems leſs afraid of immoderate heat, and bears the warm climates, better than the ſheep: it ſleeps expoſed to the ſun; and ſeems to enjoy its warmeſt fervours: neither is it terrified at the ſtorm, or incommoded by the rain; immo⯑derate cold alone ſeems to affect it, and is ſaid [54] to produce a vertigo, with which this animal is ſometimes incommoded. The inconſtancy of its nature is perceivable in the irregularity of its gait; it goes forward, ſtops, runs, ap⯑proaches, flies, merely from caprice, and with no other ſeeming reaſon than the extreme vi⯑vacity of its diſpoſition.

There are proofs of this animal's being na⯑turally the friend of man; and that the goat ſel⯑dom reſumes its primoeval wildneſs, when once reduced into a ſtate of ſervitude. In the year 1698, an Engliſh veſſel happening to touch at the iſlands of Bonaviſta, two Negroes came, and offered the ſailors as many goats as they choſe to take away. Upon the captain's expreſſing his aſtoniſhment at this offer, the Negroes aſſured him that there were but twelve perſons in the iſland, and that the goats were mul⯑tiplied in ſuch a manner as even to become a nuiſance: they added, that inſtead of giving any trouble to catch them, they followed the few inhabitants that were left with a ſort of obſtinacy, and rather became importunate with their tameneſs.

The goat produces but two at a time; and three at the moſt. But in the warmer climates, although the animal degenerates, and grows leſs, yet it becomes more fruitful, being ge⯑nerally [55] found to bring forth three, four, and five at a ſingle delivery. The buck is capable of propagating at the age of one year, and the female at ſeven months; however, the fruits of this premature generation are weak and de⯑fective; and their beſt breeding-time is gene⯑rally delayed till the age of two years, or eighteen months at leaſt. One buck is ſufficient for an hundred and fifty goats; his appetites are exceſſive: but this ardour brings on a ſpeedy decay, ſo that he is enervated in four years at moſt, and even becomes old before he reaches his ſeventh year. The goat, like the ſheep, continues five months with young; and, in ſome places, bears twice a year.

The milk of the goat is ſweet, nouriſhing, and medicinal; not ſo apt to curdle upon the ſtomach as that of the cow; and, therefore, preferable to thoſe whoſe digeſtion is but weak. The peculiarity of this animal's food, gives the milk a flavour different from that either of the cow or the ſheep; for as it generally feeds upon ſhrubby paſtures, and heathy mountains, there is an agreeable wildneſs in the taſte very pleaſing to ſuch as are fond of that aliment. In ſeveral parts of Ireland, and the highlands of Scotland, the goat makes the chief poſſeſſion of the inhabitants. On thoſe mountains, where [56] no other uſeful animal could find ſubſiſtence, the goat continues to glean a ſufficient living; and ſupplies the hardy natives with what they conſider as varied luxury. They lie upon beds made of their ſkins, which are ſoft, clean, and wholeſome; they live upon their milk, with oat bread; they convert a part of it into butter, and ſome into cheeſe; the fleſh, indeed, they ſeldom taſte of, as it is a delicacy which they find too expenſive; however, the kid is con⯑ſidered, even by the city epicure, as a great rarity; and the fleſh of the goat, when properly prepared, is ranked by ſome as no way inferior to veniſon. In this manner, even in the wildeſt ſolitudes, the poor find comforts of which the rich do not think it worth their while to diſpoſ⯑ſeſs them; in theſe mountainous retreats, where the landſcape preſents only a ſcene of rocks, heaths, and ſhrubs, that ſpeak the wretched⯑neſs of the ſoil, theſe ſimple people have their feaſts, and their pleaſures; their faithful flock of goats attends them to theſe awful ſolitudes, and furniſhes them with all the neceſſaries of life; while their remote ſituation happily keeps them ignorant of greater luxury.

As theſe animals are apt to ſtray from the flock, no man can attend above fifty of them at a time. They are fattened in the ſame [57] manner as ſheep; but, taking every precaution, their fleſh is never ſo good or ſo ſweet, in our climate, as that of mutton. It is other⯑wiſe between the tropics. The mutton there becomes flabby and lean, while the fleſh of the goat rather ſeems to improve; and in ſome places the latter is cultivated in preference to the former. We, therefore, find this animal in almoſt every part of the world, as it ſeems fitted for the neceſſities of man in both ex⯑tremes. Towards the north, where the paſture is coarſe and barren, the goat is fitted to find a ſcanty ſubſiſtence; between the tropics, where the heat is exceſſive, the goat is fitted to bear the climate, and its fleſh is found to improve.

One of the moſt remarkable varieties we find in the goat is in that of Natolia. The Natolian goat, or, as Mr. Buffon calls it, the goat of Angora, has the ears longer than ours, and broader in proportion. The male has horns of about the ſame length with the goat of Europe, but black, and turned very differently, going out horizontally on each ſide of the head, and twiſted round in the manner of a cork-ſcrew. The horns of the female are ſhorter, and en⯑circle the ear ſomewhat like thoſe of the ram. They are of a dazzling white colour, and in all the hair is very long, thick, fine, and gloſſy; [58] which, indeed, is the caſe with almoſt all the ani⯑mals of Syria. There are a great number of ani⯑mals about Angora, where the inhabitants drive trade with their hair, which is ſold either raw, or manufactured into all parts of Europe. No⯑thing can exceed the beauty of the ſtuffs which are made from the hair of almoſt all the ani⯑mals of that country. Theſe are well known among us by the name of camlet.

A ſecond variety is the Aſſyrian goat of Geſ⯑ner, which is ſomewhat larger than ours, with ears almoſt hanging down to the ground, and broad in proportion. The horns, on the con⯑trary, are not above two inches and an half long, black, and bending a little backwards. The hair is of a fox colour, and under the throat there are two excreſcences, like the gills of a cock. Theſe animals are chiefly kept round Aleppo, for the ſake of their milk. They are driven through the ſtreets, and their milk is ſold to the inhabitants as they paſs along.

In the third variety may be reckoned, the little goat of America, which is of the ſize of a kid, but the hair is as long as that of the or⯑dinary breed. The horns, which do not exceed the length of a man's finger, are thick, and bend downwards ſo cloſe to the head, that they almoſt enter the ſkin.

[59]There is an animal of this kind at the Cape of Good Hope, called the blue goat, which may be ranked as the fourth variety. It is in ſhape like the domeſtic, but much larger, being nearly of the ſize of a ſtag. Its hair is very ſhort, and of a delightful blue; but it loſes a great deal of its beauty when the animal is dead. It has a very long beard; but the horns are not ſo long in proportion as in other goats, being turned ſpirally, in the manner of a cork-ſcrew. It has very long legs, but well propor⯑tioned; and the fleſh is very well taſted, but lean. For this reaſon, in that plentiful country, it is chiefly killed upon account of its ſkin. It is a very ſhy animal, and ſeldom comes near the Dutch ſettlements; but they are found in great abundance in the more uncultivated parts of the country. Beſides theſe, they are found in this extenſive region of various colours, and many of them are ſpotted beautifully, with red, white, and brown.

In fine, the Juda goat reſembles ours in moſt parts, except in ſize, it being much ſmaller. This animal is common in Guinea, Angola, and all along the coaſts of Africa: it is not much larger than a hare, but it is extremely fat, and its fleſh admirably taſted. It is in that country univerſally preferred to mutton.

Theſe animals ſeem all of one kind, with very [60] trifling diſtinctions between them. It is true that they differ in ſome reſpects; ſuch as having neither the ſame colour, hair, ears, or horns. But it ought to be conſidered as a rule in natural hiſtory, that neither the horns, the colour, the fineneſs or the length of the hair, or the po⯑ſition of the ears, are to be conſidered as mak⯑ing an actual diſtinction in the kinds. Theſe are accidental varieties, produced by climate and food, which are known to change even in the ſame animal, and give it a ſeeming dif⯑ference of form. When we ſee the ſhapes, the inclinations, and the internal conformation of ſeemingly different creatures nearly the ſame; and, above all, when we ſee them producing among each other, we then have no heſitation in pronouncing the ſpecies, and aſſerting that theſe are of the goat kind, with which they are ſo materially connected.

But, although theſe are evidently known to belong to the goat kind, there are others nearly reſembling the goat, of whoſe kindred we can⯑not be equally certain. Theſe are ſuch as, being found in a ſtate of nature, have not as yet been ſufficiently ſubjected to human obſervation. Hence it is impoſſible to determine with pre⯑ciſion to which claſs they belong; whether they be animals of a particular kind, or merely the [61] goat in its ſtate of ſavage freedom. Were there but one of theſe wild animals, the enquiry would ſoon be ended; and we might readily allow it for the parent ſtock; but, in the pre⯑ſent caſe, there are two kinds that have almoſt equal pretenſions to this honour; and the claims of which it has been found difficult to deter⯑mine. The animals in queſtion are the ſham⯑moy and the ibex. Theſe both bear very near approaches to the goat in figure; have horns that never ſhed; and, at the ſame time, are more different from each other than from the animal in queſtion. From which of theſe two ſources our domeſtic goat is derived is not eaſy to ſettle. Inſtead, therefore, of entering into the diſcuſſion, I will content myſelf with the reſult of Mr. Buffon's enquiries. He is of opinion that the ibex is the principal ſource, that our domeſtic goat is the immediate deſcend⯑ant, and that the ſhammoy is but a variety from that ſtock, a ſort of collateral branch of the ſame family. His principal reaſon for giving the preference to the ibex is its having a more maſ⯑culine figure, large horns, and a large beard; whereas the ſhammoy wants theſe marks of pri⯑mitive ſtrength and wildneſs. He ſuppoſes, therefore, in their original ſavage ſtate, that our goat has taken after the male of the parent [62] ſtock, and the ſhammoy after the female; and that this has produced a variety in theſe ani⯑mals, even before they underwent human cul⯑tivation.

However this be, the two animals in queſtion ſeem both well fitted for their precarious life, being extremely ſwift, and capable of running with eaſe along the ledges of precipices, where even the wolf or the fox, though inſtigated by hunger, dares not purſue them. They are both natives of the Alps, the Pyrenees, and the mountains of Greece; there they propa⯑gate in vaſt numbers, and continue to exiſt in ſpite of the hunter and every beaſt of prey that is found inceſſantly to purſue them.

The ibex reſembles the goat in the ſhape of its body; but differs in the horns, which are much larger. They are bent backward, full of knots; and it is generally aſſerted that there is a knot added every year. There are ſome of theſe found, if we may believe Bellonius, at leaſt two yards long. The ibex has a large black beard, is of a brown colour, with a thick warm coat of hair. There is a ſtreak of black runs along the top of the back; and the belly and back of the thighs are of a fawn colour.

The ſhammoy^*, though a wild animal, is very eaſily tamed, and docile; and to be found [63] only in rocky and mountainous places. It is about the ſize of a domeſtic goat, and re⯑ſembles one in many reſpects. It is moſt agree⯑ably lively, and active beyond expreſſion. The ſhammoy's hair is ſhort, like that of the doe; in ſpring it is of an aſh colour, and in autumn a dun colour, inclining to black, and in winter of a blackiſh brown. This animal is found in great plenty in the mountains of Dauphiny of Piedmont, Savoy, Switzerland, and Germany. They are peaceful, gentle creatures, and live in ſociety with each other. They are found in flocks of from four to fourſcore, and even an hundred, diſperſed upon the crags of the mountains. The large males are ſeen feeding detached from the reſt, except in rutting time, when they approach the females, and drive away the young. The time of their coupling is from the beginning of November to the end of October; and they bring forth in April and March. The young keeps with the dam for about five months, and ſometimes longer, if the hunters and the wolves do not ſeparate them. It is aſſerted that they live between twenty and thirty years. Their fleſh is good to eat; and they are found to have ten or twelve pounds of ſuet, which far ſurpaſſes that of the goat in hardneſs and goodneſs. The [64] ſhammoy has ſcarce any cry, as moſt animals are known to have; if it has any, it is a kind of feeble bleat, by which the parent calls its young. But in caſes of danger, and when it is to warn the reſt of the flock, it uſes an hiſ⯑ſing noiſe, which is heard at a great diſtance. For it is to be obſerved that this creature is ex⯑tremely vigilant, and has an eye the quickeſt and moſt piercing in nature. Its ſmell alſo is not leſs diſtinguiſhing. When it ſees its enemy diſtinctly, it ſtops for a moment; and then, if the perſon be near, in an inſtant after it flies off. In the ſame manner, by its ſmell, it can diſcover a man at half a league diſtance, and gives the earlieſt notice. Upon any alarm, therefore, or any apprehenſions of danger, the ſhammoy begins his hiſſing note with ſuch force, that the rocks and the foreſts re-echo to the ſound. The firſt hiſs continues as long as the time of one inſpiration. In the beginning it is very ſharp, and deeper towards the cloſe. The animal having, after this firſt alarm, re⯑poſed a moment, again looks round, and, per⯑ceiving the reality of its fears, continues to hiſs by intervals, until it has ſpread the alarm to a very great diſtance. During this time, it ſeems in the moſt violent agitation; it ſtrikes the ground with its fore-foot, and ſometimes with [65] both: it bounds from rock to rock; it turns and looks round; it runs to the edge of the precipice; and, ſtill perceiving the enemy, flies with all its ſpeed. The hiſſing of the male is much louder and ſharper than that of the fe⯑male; it is performed through the noſe; and is properly no more than a very ſtrong breath, driven violently through a ſmall apperture. The ſhammoy feeds upon the beſt herbage, and chuſes the moſt delicate parts of the plants, the flower and the tender buds. It is not leſs delicate with regard to ſeveral aromatic herbs, which grow upon the ſides of the mountains. It drinks but very little while it feeds upon the ſucculent herbage, and chews the cud in the intervals of feeding. This animal is greatly admired for the beauty of its eyes, which are round and ſparkling, and which mark the warmth of its conſtitution. Its head is furniſhed with two ſmall horns, of about half a foot long, of a beautiful black, and riſing from the fore⯑head, almoſt betwixt the eyes. Theſe, con⯑trary to what they are found in other animals, inſtead of going backwards or ſideways, jet out forward, and bend a little, at their extremities, backward, in a ſmall circle, and end in a very ſharp point. The ears are placed in a very elegant manner, near the horns; and there are [66] two ſtripes of black on each ſide of the face, the reſt being of a whitiſh yellow, which never changes. The horn of this animal is often uſed as the head of a cane. Thoſe of the female are leſs, and not ſo much bent; and ſome farriers are ſeen to bleed cattle with them. Theſe ani⯑mals are ſo much incommoded by heat, that they are never found in ſummer, except in the caverns of rocks, amidſt fragments of unmelted ice, under the ſhade of high and ſpreading trees, or of rough and hanging precipices, that face the north, and which keep off entirely the rays of the ſun. They go to paſture both morning and evening, and ſeldom during the heat of the day. They run along the rocks with great eaſe and ſeeming indifference, and leap from one to another, ſo that no dogs are able to purſue them. There is nothing more extraordinary than to ſee them climbing and deſcending precipices, that to all other qua⯑drupedes are inacceſſible. They always mount or deſcend in an oblique direction; and throw themſelves down a rock of thirty feet, and light with great ſecurity upon ſome excre⯑ſcence, or fragment, on the ſide of the precipice, which is juſt large enough to place their feet upon; they ſtrike the rock, however, in their deſcent, with their feet, three or four times, [67] to ſtop the velocity of their motion; and, when they have got upon their baſe below, they at once ſeem fixed and ſecure. In fact, to ſee them jump in this manner, they ſeem rather to have wings than legs; ſome, indeed, pretend to ſay that they uſe their horns for climbing, but this wants confirmation. Cer⯑tain it is that their legs alone are formed for this arduous employment, the hinder being ra⯑ther longer than the former, and bending in ſuch a manner that, when they deſcend upon them, they break the force of the fall. It is alſo aſſerted, that when they feed, one of them always ſtands as centinel; but how far this may be true is queſtionable. For certain, while they feed, there are ſome of them that keep continually gazing round the reſt; but this is practiſed among all gregarious animals; ſo that when they ſee any danger, they warn the reſt of the herd of its approach. During the rigours of winter, the ſhammoy ſleeps in the thicker foreſts, and feeds upon the ſhrubs and the buds of the pine-tree. It ſometimes turns up the ſnow with its foot to look for herbage; and, where it is green, makes a delicious repaſt. The more craggy and uneven the foreſt, the more this animal is pleaſed with the abode, which thus adds to its ſecurity. The hunting the [68] ſhammoy is very laborious and extremely dif⯑ficult. The moſt uſual way is to hide behind the clefts of the rocks and ſhoot them. This, however, muſt be done with great precaution; the ſportſman muſt creep for a vaſt way upon his belly, in ſilence, and take alſo the advan⯑tage of the wind, which if it blow from him they would inſtantly perceive. When arrived at a proper diſtance, he then advances his piece, which is to be rifle barrelled, and to carry one ball, and tries his fortune among them. Some alſo purſue this animal as they do the ſtag, by placing proper perſons at all the paſſages of a glade, or valley, and then ſending in others to rouſe the game. Dogs are quite uſeleſs in this chace, as they rather alarm than overtake. Nor is it without danger even to the men; for it often happens that when the animal finds it⯑ſelf over-preſſed, it drives at the hunter with its head, and often tumbles him down the neigh⯑bouring precipice. This animal cannot go upon ice when ſmooth; but if there be the leaſt inequalities on its ſurface, it then bounds along in ſecurity, and quickly evades all purſuit.

The ſkin of the ſhammoy was once famous, when tanned, for its ſoftneſs and warmth; at preſent, however, ſince the art of tanning has been brought to greater perfection, the leather [69] called ſhammoy is made alſo from thoſe of the tame goat, the ſheep, and the deer. Many me⯑dicinal virtues alſo were ſaid to reſide in the blood, fat, gall, and the concretion ſometimes found in the ſtomach of this animal, called the German bezoar. The fat, mixed with milk, was ſaid to be good in ulcers of the lungs. The gall was ſaid to be uſeful in ſtrengthening the ſight; the ſtone, which is generally about the ſize of a walnut and blackiſh, was formerly in great requeſt for having the ſame virtues with oriental bezoar. However, in the preſent enlightened ſtate of phyſic, all theſe medicines are quite out of repute; and, although we have the names of ſeveral medicines procurable from quadrupedes, yet, except the muſk or harts⯑horn alone, I know of none in any degree of reputation. It is true, the fat, the urine, the beak, and even the dung, of various animals, may be found efficacious where better remedies are not to be had; but they are far ſurpaſſed by by many at preſent in uſe, whoſe operations we know, and whoſe virtues are confirmed by re⯑peated experience.

Such are the quadrupedes that more pecu⯑liarly belong to the goat kind. Each of theſe, in all probability, can engender and breed with the other; and were the whole race extin⯑guiſhed, [70] except any two, theſe would be ſuf⯑ficient to repleniſh the world, and continue the kind. Nature, however, proceeds in her va⯑riations by ſlow and inſenſible degrees, and ſcarce draws a firm diſtinguiſhed line between any two neighbouring races of animals what⯑ſoever. Thus it is hard to diſcover where the ſheep ends and the goat begins; and we ſhall find it ſtill harder to fix preciſely the boundaries between the goat kind and the deer. In all tranſitions from one kind to the other, there are to be found a middle race of animals, that ſeem to partake of the nature of both, and that can preciſely be referred to nei⯑ther. That race of quadrupedes, called the Gazelles, are of this kind; they are properly neither goat nor deer, and yet they have many of the marks of both; they make the ſhade between theſe two kinds, and fill up the chaſm in nature.

THE GAZELLES.

THE Gazelles, of which there are ſeveral kinds, can, with propriety, be referred neither to the goat or the deer; and yet they partake of both natures. Like the goat, they have hollow horns that never fall, which is other⯑wiſe in the deer. They have a gall-bladder, [71] which is found in the goat and not in the deer; and, like that animal, they feed rather upon ſhrubs than graſſy paſtures. On the other hand, they reſemble the roe-buck in ſize and delicacy of form; they have deep pits under the eyes like that animal; they reſemble the roe-buck in the colour and nature of their hair; they reſemble him in the bunches upon their legs, which only differ in being upon the fore-legs in theſe, and on the hind legs in the other. They ſeem, therefore, to be of a middle nature between theſe two kinds; or, to ſpeak with greater truth and preciſion, they form a diſtinct kind by themſelves.

The diſtinguiſhing marks of this tribe of animals, by which they differ both from the goat and deer, are theſe: their horns are made differently, being annulated or ringed round, at the ſame time that there are longitudinated de⯑preſſions running from the bottom to the point. They have bunches of hair upon their fore-legs; they have a ſtreak of black, red, or brown, running along the lower part of their ſides, and three ſtreaks of whitiſh hair in the internal ſide of the ear. Theſe are characters that none of them are without; beſides theſe, there are others which, in general, they are found to have, and which are more obvious to the be⯑holder. [72] Of all animals in the world, the ga⯑zelle has the moſt beautiful eye, extremely brilliant, and yet ſo meek that all the eaſtern poets compare the eyes of their miſtreſſes to thoſe of this animal. A gazelle-eyed beauty is conſidered as the higheſt cmpliment that a lover can pay; and, indeed, the Greeks themſelves thought it no inelegant piece of flattery to reſemble the eyes of a beautiful wo⯑man to thoſe of a cow. The gazelle, for the moſt part, is more delicately and finely limbed than even the roe-buck; its hair is as ſhort, but finer and more gloſſy. Its hinder legs are longer than thoſe before, as in the hare, which gives it greater ſecurity in aſcending or de⯑ſcending ſteep places. Their ſwiftneſs is equal, if not ſuperior to that of the roe; but as the latter bounds forward, ſo theſe run along in an even uninterrupted courſe. Moſt of them are brown upon the back, white under the belly, with a black ſtripe, ſeparating theſe co⯑lours between. Their tail is of various lengths, but in all covered with pretty long hair; and their ears are beautiful, well placed, and ter⯑minating in a point. They all have a cloven hoof, like the ſheep; they all have permanent horns; and the female has them ſmaller than the male.

[73]Of theſe animals, Mr. Buffon makes twelve varieties; which, however, is much fewer than what other naturaliſts have made them. The firſt is the Gazella, properly ſo called, which is of the ſize of the roe-buck, and very much re⯑ſembling it in all the proportions of its body, but entirely differing, as was ſaid, in the na⯑ture and faſhion of the horns, which are black and hollow, like thoſe of the ram, or the goat, and never fall. The ſecond he calls the Kevel, which is rather leſs than the former; its eyes alſo ſeem larger; and its horns, inſtead of being round, are flatted on the ſides, as well in the male as the female. The third he calls the Corin, which very much reſembles the two former, but that it is ſtill leſs than either. Its horns alſo are ſmaller in proportion, ſmoother than thoſe of the other two, and the annular prominences belonging to the kind are ſcarce diſcernable, and may rather be called wrinkles than prominences. Some of theſe animals are often ſeen ſtreaked like the tiger. Theſe three are ſuppoſed to be of the ſame ſpecies. The fourth he calls the Zeiran, the horns only of which he has ſeen; which, from their ſize, and the deſcription of travellers, he ſuppoſes to be⯑long to a larger kind of the gazelle, found in India and Perſia, under that denomination.

[74]The fifth he calls the Koba, and the ſixth the kob; theſe two differ from each other only in ſize, the former being much larger than the latter. The muzzle of theſe animals is much longer than thoſe of the ordinary gazelle; the head is differently ſhaped, and they have no de⯑preſſions under the eyes. The ſeventh he calls after its Egyptian name, the Algazel; which is ſhaped pretty much like the ordinary gazelle, except that the horns are much longer, being generally three feet from the point to the in⯑ſertion; whereas, in the common gazelle, they are not above a foot; they are ſmaller alſo, and ſtraiter, till near the extremities, when they turn ſhort, with a very ſharp flexure: they are black and ſmooth, and the annular prominences are ſcarcely obſervable. The eighth is called the Pazan; or, by ſome, the bezoar goat, which greatly reſembles the former, except a ſmall variety in their horns; and alſo with this dif⯑ference, that as the algazel feeds upon the plains, this is only found in the mountains. They are both inhabitants of the ſame countries and climate; being found in Egypt, Arabia, and Perſia. This laſt is the animal famous for that concretion in the inteſtines or ſtomach, called the Oriental Bezoar, which was once in ſuch repute all over the world for its medicinal [75] virtues. The word bezoar is ſuppoſed to take its name either from the pazan or pazar, which is the animal that produces it; or from a word in the Arabic language, which ſignifies antidote, or counter-poiſon. It is a ſtone of a glazed blackiſh colour, found in the ſtomach, or the inteſtines of ſome animal, and brought over to us from the Eaſt-Indies. Like all other animal concretions, it is found to have a kind of nu⯑cleous, or hard ſubſtance within, upon which the external coatings were formed; for, upon being ſawed through, it is ſeen to have layer over layer, as in an onion. This nucleus is of various kinds; ſometimes the buds of a ſhrub, ſometimes a piece of ſtone, and ſometimes a marcaſite. This ſtone is from the ſize of an acorn to that of a pidgeon's egg; the larger the ſtone, the more valuable it is held; its price encreaſing, like that of a diamond. There was a time when a ſtone of four ounces ſold in Europe for above two hundred pounds; but, at preſent, the price is greatly fallen, and they are in very little eſteem. The bezoar is of va⯑rious colours; ſometimes of a blood colour, ſometimes of a pale yellow, and of all the ſhades between theſe two. It is generally gloſſy, ſmooth, and has a fragrant ſmell, like that of ambergreaſe, probably ariſing from the aro⯑matic [76] vegetables upon which the animal that produces it, feeds. It has been given in ver⯑tigoes, epilepſies, palpitations of the heart, cho⯑lic, jaundice, and, in thoſe places where the dearneſs, and not the value of medicines, is conſulted, in almoſt every diſorder incident to man. In all, perhaps, it is equally efficacious, acting only as an abſorbent powder, and poſ⯑ſeſſing virtues equal to common chalk, or crabs claws. Judicious phyſicians have therefore diſ⯑carded it; and this celebrated medicine is now chiefly conſumed in countries where the know⯑ledge of nature has been but little advanced. When this medicine was in its higheſt repu⯑tation, many arts were uſed to adulterate it; and many countries endeavoured to find out a bezoar of their own. Thus we had occidental bezoar, brought from America; German be⯑zoar, which has been mentioned before; cow bezoar, and monkey bezoar. In fact, there is ſcarce an animal, except of the carnivorous kinds, that does not produce ſome of theſe con⯑cretions in the ſtomach, inteſtines, kidnies, bladder, and even in the heart. To theſe ig⯑norance may impute virtues that they do not poſſeſs; experience has found but few cures wrought by their efficacy: but it is well known, that they often prove fatal to the animal that [77] bears them. Theſe concretions are generally found in cows, by their practice of licking off their hair, which gathers in the ſtomach into the ſhape of a ball, acquires a ſurprizing degree of hardneſs, and ſometimes a poliſh like leather. They are often as large as a gooſe-egg; and, when become too large to paſs, block up the paſſage of the food, and the animal dies. The ſubſtance of theſe balls, however, is different from the bezoar mentioned above; being rather a concretion of hair than of ſtone. There is a bezoar found in the gall-bladder of a boar, and thence called hog bezoar, in very great eſteem; but perhaps with as little juſtice as any of the former. In ſhort, there is ſcarce an animal, or ſcarce a part of their bodies, in which concre⯑tions are not formed; and it is more than pro⯑bable, as Mr. Buffon juſtly remarks, that the bezoar ſo much in uſe formerly, was not the production of the pazar, or any one animal only, but that of the whole gazelle kind; who feed⯑ing upon odoriferous herbs and plants, gave this admirable fragrance to the accidental con⯑cretions which they were found to produce. As this medicine, however, is but little uſed at preſent, our curioſity is much abated, as to the cauſe of its formation. To return, there⯑fore, to the varieties in the gazelle tribe, the [78] ninth is called the Ranguer, and is a native of Senegal. This differs ſomewhat in ſhape and colour from the reſt; but particularly in the ſhape of its horns, which are ſtrait to near the points, where they crook forward, pretty much in the ſame manner as in the ſhammoy they crook backward. The tenth variety of the gazelle is the Antelope, ſo well known to the Engliſh, who have given it the name. This animal is of the ſize of a roe-buck, and reſembles the gazelle in many particulars, but differs in others: it has deeper eye-pits than the former; the horns are formed differently alſo, being about ſixteen inches long, almoſt touching each other at the bottom, and ſpreading as they riſe, ſo as at their tips to be ſixteen inches aſunder. They have the annular prominences of their kind, but not ſo diſtinguiſhable as in the gazelle: however, they have a double flexure, which is very re⯑markable, and ſerves to diſtinguiſh them from all others of their kind. At the root they have a tuft of hair, which is longer than that of any part of the body. Like others of the ſame kind, the antelope is brown on the back, and white under the belly; but theſe colours are not ſeparated by the black ſtreak which is to be found in all the reſt of the gazelle kinds. There are different ſorts of this animal, ſome [79] with larger horns than others, and others with leſs. The one which makes the eleventh va⯑riety in the gazelle kind, Mr. Buffon calls the Lidme, which has very large horns; and the other, which is the twelfth and laſt, he calls the Indian Antelope, the horns of which are very ſmall.

To theſe may be added three or four varieties more, which it is not eaſy to tell whether to re⯑fer to the goat or the gazelle, as they equally reſemble both. The firſt of theſe is the Bu⯑balus, an animal that ſeems to partake of the mixed natures of the cow, the goat, and the deer. It reſembles the ſtag in the ſize and the figure of its body, and particularly in the ſhape of its legs. But it has permanent horns, like the goat; and made entirely like thoſe of the gazelle kind. It alſo reſembles that ani⯑mal in its way of living: however, it differs in the make of its head, being exactly like the cow in the length of its muzzle, and in the diſpoſition of the bones of its ſcull; from which ſimilitude it has taken its name. This animal has a narrow long head; the eyes are placed very high; the forehead ſhort and nar⯑row; the horns permanent, about a foot long, black, thick, annulated, and the rings of the gazelle kind, remarkably large; its ſhoulders [80] are very high, and it has a kind of bunch on them, that terminates at the neck; the tail is about a foot long, and tufted with hair at the extremity. The hair of this animal is remark⯑able in being thicker at the middle than at the root: in all other quadrupedes, except the elk and this, the hair tapers off from the bottom to the point; but in theſe, each hair ſeems to ſwell in the middle, like a nine-pin. The bu⯑balus alſo reſembles the elk in ſize, and the colour of its ſkin; but theſe are the only ſimili⯑tudes between them: as the one has a very large branching head of ſolid horns that are an⯑nually deciduous, the other has black unbranch⯑ing hollow horns that never fall. The bubalus is common enough in Barbary, and has often been called by the name of the Barbary Cow, from which animal it differs ſo widely. It par⯑takes pretty much of the nature of the antelope; like that having the hair ſhort, the hide black, the ears pointed, and the fleſh good for food.

The ſecond anomalous animal of the goat-kind, Mr. Buffon calls the Condoma. It is ſuppoſed to be equal in ſize to the largeſt ſtag, but with hollow horns, like thoſe of the goat kind, and with varied flexures, like thoſe of the antelope. They are above three feet long; and, at their extremities, about two feet [81] aſunder. All along the back there runs a white liſt, which ends at the inſertion of the tail; another of the ſame colour croſſes this, at the bottom of the neck, which it entirely ſurrounds: there are two more of the ſame kind running round the body, one behind the fore legs, and the other running parallel to it before the hinder. The colour of the reſt of the body is greyiſh, except the belly, which is white: it has alſo a long grey beard; and its legs, though long, are well proportioned.

The third that may be mentioned, he calls the Guiba. It reſembles the gazelles in every particular, except in the colour of the belly, which, as we have ſeen, is white in them, but in this is of a deep brown. Its horns alſo are not marked with annular prominences, but are ſmooth and poliſhed. It is alſo remarkable for white liſts, on a brown ground, that are diſ⯑poſed along the animal's body, as if it were covered with a harneſs. Like the former, it is a native of Africa.

The African Wild Goat of Grimmius is the fourth. It is of a dark aſh colour; and in the middle of the head is an hairy tuft, ſtanding upright; on both ſides, between the eyes and the noſe, there are very deep cavities, greater than thoſe of the other kinds, which contain a [82] yellow oily liquor, which coagulates into a black ſubſtance, that has a ſmell between muſk and civet. This being taken away, the liquor again runs out, and coagulates, as before. Theſe cavities have no communication with the eyes, and, conſequently, this oozing ſubſtance can have nothing of the nature of tears.

To this we may add the Chevrotin, or little Guinea Deer, which is the leaſt of all cloven footed quadrupedes, and perhaps the moſt beautiful; its legs, at the ſmalleſt part, are not much thicker than the ſhank of a tobacco-pipe; it is about ſeven inches high, and about twelve from the point of the noſe to the inſertion of the tail. It is the moſt delicately ſhaped animal in the world, being completely formed like a ſtag in miniature; except that its horns, when it has any, are more of the gazelle kind, being hollow and annulated in the ſame manner. It has two canine teeth in the upper jaw; in which reſpect it differs from all other animals of the goat or deer kind, and thus makes a ſpecies entirely diſtinct by itſelf. This wonderful animal's colour is not leſs pleaſing; the hair, which is ſhort and gloſſy, being in ſome of a beautiful yellow, except on the neck and belly, which is white. They are natives of India, Guinea, and the warm climates between the tropics; [83] and are found in great plenty. But though they are amazingly ſwift for their ſize, yet the Negroes often overtake them in the purſuit, and knock them down with their ſticks. They may be eaſily tamed, and then they become familiar and pleaſing; but they are of ſuch de⯑licate conſtitutions, that they can bear no cli⯑mate but the hotteſt; and they always periſh with the rigours of ours, when they are brought over. The male in Guinea has horns; the fe⯑male is without any; as are all the kinds of this animal, to be found either in Java or Ceylon, where they chiefly abound.

Such is the liſt of the gazelles; all which pretty nearly reſemble the deer in form, and de⯑licacy of ſhape; but have the horns hollow, ſingle, and permanent, like thoſe of the goat. They properly fill up, as has been already ob⯑ſerved, the interval between theſe two kinds of animals; ſo that it is difficult to tell where the goat ends, and the deer may be ſaid to begin. If we compare the gazelles with each other, we ſhall find but very ſlight diſtinctions between them. The turn or the magnitude of the horns, the different ſpots on the ſkin, or a dif⯑ference of ſize in each, are chiefly the marks by which their varieties are to be known; but their [84] way of living, their nature, and their peculiar ſwiftneſs, all come under one deſcription.

The gazelles are, in general, inhabitants of the warmer climates; and contribute, among other embelliſhments, to add beauty to thoſe foreſts that are for ever green. They are often ſeen feeding in herds, on the ſides of the moun⯑tain, or in the ſhade of the woods; and fly all together, upon the ſmalleſt approaches of dan⯑ger. They bound with ſuch ſwiftneſs, and are ſo very ſhy, that dogs or men vainly attempt to purſue them. They traverſe thoſe pre⯑cipices with eaſe and ſafety, which to every quadrupede elſe are quite impracticable; nor can any animals, but of the winged kind, over⯑take them. Accordingly, in all thoſe countries where they are chiefly found, they are purſued by falcons; and this admirable manner of hunting makes one of the principal amuſements of the upper ranks of people all over the eaſt.

The Arabians, Perſians, and Turks, breed up for this purpoſe, that kind of hawk called the Falcon Gentle, with which, when properly trained, they go forth on horſeback among the foreſts and the mountains, the falcon perching upon the hand of the hunter. Their expedition is conducted with profound ſilence; their dogs are taught to hang behind; while the men, on [85] the fleeteſt courſers, look round for the game. Whenever they ſpy a gazelle at the proper diſtance, they point the falcon to its object, and encourage it to purſue. The falcon, with the ſwiftneſs of an arrow, flies to the animal; that, knowing its danger, endeavours, but too late, to eſcape. The falcon ſoon coming up with its prey, fixes its talons, one into the ani⯑mal's cheek, the other into its throat, and deeply wounds it. On the other hand, the ga⯑zelle attempts to eſcape, but is generally wounded too deeply to run far. The falcon clings with the utmoſt perſeverance, nor ever leaves its prey till it falls; upon which the hunters from behind approaching, take up both, and reward the falcon with the blood of the ſpoil. They alſo teach the young ones, by applying them to the dead animal's throat, and accuſtom⯑ing them betimes to fix upon that particular part; for if it ſhould happen that the falcon fixed upon any other part of the gazelle, either its back or its haunches, the animal would eaſily eſcape among the mountains, and the hunter would alſo loſe his falcon.

They ſometimes alſo hunt theſe animals with the ounce. This carnivorous and fierce crea⯑ture being made tame and domeſtic, generally [86] ſits on horſeback behind the hunter, and re⯑mains there with the utmoſt compoſure, until the gazelle is ſhewn; it is then that it exerts all its arts and fierceneſs; it does not at once fly at its prey, but approaches ſlyly, turning and winding about until it comes within the proper diſtance, when all at once it bounds upon the heedleſs animal, and inſtantly kills it, and ſucks its blood. If, on the other hand, it miſſes its aim, it reſts in the place, without at⯑tempting to purſue any farther, but ſeems aſhamed of its own inability.

There is ſtill another way of taking the ga⯑zelle, which ſeems not ſo certain, nor ſo amuſing as either of the former. A tame gazelle is bred up for this purpoſe, who is taught to join thoſe of its kind, wherever it perceives them. When the hunter, therefore, perceives a herd of theſe together, he fixes a nooſe round the horns of the tame gazelle, in ſuch a manner, that if the reſt but touch it, they are entangled; and thus pre⯑pared he ſends his gazelle among the reſt. The tame animal no ſooner approaches, but the males of the herd inſtantly ſally forth to oppoſe him; and, in butting with their horns, are caught in the nooſe. In this, both ſtruggling for ſome time, fall together to the ground; and, [87] at laſt, the hunter coming up, diſengages the one, and kills the other. Upon the whole, however, theſe animals, whatever be the arts uſed to purſue them, are very difficult to be taken. As they are continually ſubject to alarms from carnivorous beaſts, or from man, they keep chiefly in the moſt ſolitary and inac⯑ceſſible places, and find their only protection from ſituations of the greateſt danger.

THE FALLOW DEER.

NO two animals can be more nearly allied than the ſtag and the fallow deer^*. Alike in form, alike in diſpoſition, in the ſuperb fur⯑niture of their heads, in their ſwiftneſs and timidity; and yet no two animals keep more diſtinct, or avoid each other with more fixed animoſity. They are never ſeen to herd in the ſame place, they never engender together, or form a mixed breed; and even in thoſe coun⯑tries where the ſtag is common, the buck ſeems to be entirely a ſtranger. In ſhort, they both form diſtinct families; which, though ſo ſeem⯑ingly near, are ſtill remote; and although with the ſame habitudes, yet retain an unal⯑terable averſion.

The fallow deer, as they are much ſmaller, ſo they ſeem of a nature leſs robuſt, and leſs ſavage than thoſe of the ſtag kind. They are found but rarely wild in the foreſts; they are, in general, bred up in parks, and kept for the purpoſes of hunting, or of luxury, their fleſh being preferred to that of any other animal. It need ſcarce be mentioned, that the horns of the buck make its principal diſtinction, being broad and palmated; whereas thoſe of the ſtag [126] are in every part round. In the one, they are flatted and ſpread like the palm of the hand; in the other they grow like a tree, every branch being of the ſhape of the ſtem that bears it. The fallow deer alſo has the tail longer, and the hair lighter than the ſtag; in other re⯑ſpects, they pretty nearly reſemble one another.

The head of the buck, as of all other ani⯑mals of this kind, is ſhed every year, and takes the uſual time for repairing. The only differ⯑ence between it and the ſtag is, that this change happens later in the buck; and its rut⯑ting-time, conſequently, falls more into the winter. It is not found ſo furious at this ſeaſon as the former; nor does it ſo much ex⯑hauſt itſelf by the violence of its ardour. It does not quit its natural paſtures in queſt of the female, nor does it attack other animals with indiſcriminate ferocity: however, the males combat for the female among each other; and it is not without many conteſts, that one buck is ſeen to become maſter of the whole herd.

It often happens alſo, that an herd of fallow deer is ſeen to divide into two parties, and en⯑gage each other with great ardour and ob⯑ſtinacy^*. They both ſeem deſirous of gaining ſome favourite ſpot of the park for paſture, [127] and of driving the vanquiſhed party into the coarſer and more diſagreeable parts. Each of theſe factions has its particular chief; namely, the two oldeſt and ſtrongeſt of the herd. Theſe lead on to the engagement; and the reſt follow under their direction. Theſe combats are ſin⯑gular enough, from the diſpoſition and conduct which ſeems to regulate their mutual efforts. They attack with order, and ſupport the aſſault with courage; they come to each other's aſſiſtance, they retire, they rally, and never give up the victory upon a ſingle defeat. The combat is renewed for ſeveral days together; until at length the moſt feeble ſide is obliged to give way, and is content to eſcape to the moſt diſagreeable part of the park, where only they can find ſafety and protection.

The fallow deer is eaſily tamed, and feeds upon many things which the ſtag refuſes. By this means it preſerves its veniſon better; and even after rutting, it does not appear entirely exhauſted. It continues almoſt in the ſame ſtate through the whole year, although there are particular ſeaſons when its fleſh is chiefly in eſteem. This animal alſo browzes cloſer than the ſtag; for which reaſon it is more pre⯑judicial among young trees, which it often ſtrips too cloſe for recovery. The young deer [128] eat much faſter and more greedily than the old; they ſeek the female at their ſecond year, and, like the ſtag, are fond of variety. The doe goes with young above eight months, like the hind; and commonly brings forth one at a time: but they differ in this, that the buck comes to perfection at three, and lives till ſix⯑teen; whereas the ſtag does not come to per⯑fection till ſeven, and lives till forty.

As this animal is a beaſt of chace, like the ſtag, ſo the hunters have invented a number of names relative to him. The buck is the firſt year called a fawn; the ſecond, a pricket; the third, a ſorel; the fourth, a ſore; the fifth, a buck of the firſt head; and the ſixth, a great buck: The female is called a doe; the firſt year a fawn; and the ſecond a tegg. The manner of hunting the buck is pretty much the ſame as that of ſtag hunting, except that leſs ſkill is re⯑quired in the latter. The buck is more eaſily rouzed; it is ſufficient to judge by the view, and mark what grove or covert it enters, as it is not known to wander far from thence; nor, like the ſtag, to change his layer, or place of repoſe. When hard hunted, it takes to ſome ſtrong hold or covert with which it is ac⯑quainted, in the more gloomy parts of the wood, or the ſteeps of the mountain; not like [129] the ſtag, flying far before the hounds, nor croſſing nor doubling, nor uſing any of the ſubtleties which the ſtag is accuſtomed to. It will take the water when ſorely preſſed, but ſeldom a great river; nor can it ſwim ſo long, nor ſo ſwiftly, as the former. In general, the ſtrength, the cunning, and the courage of this animal, are inferior to thoſe of the ſtag; and, conſequently, it affords neither ſo long, ſo va⯑rious, nor ſo obſtinate a chace: beſides, being lighter, and not tracking ſo deeply, it leaves a leſs powerful and laſting ſcent, and the dogs in the purſuit are more frequently at a fault.

As the buck is a more delicate animal than the ſtag, ſo alſo is it ſubject to greater varieties^*. We have in England two varieties of the fallow-deer, which are ſaid to be of foreign origin. The beautiful ſpotted kind, which is ſuppoſed to have been brought from Bengal; and the very deep brown ſort, that are now ſo common in ſeveral parts of this kingdom. Theſe were introduced by king James the Firſt, from Nor⯑way: for having obſerved their hardineſs, and that they could endure the winter, even in that ſevere climate, without fodder, he brought over ſome of them into Scotland, and diſpoſed of them among his chaces. Since that time, they have [130] multiplied in many parts of the Britiſh em⯑pire; and England is now become more fa⯑mous for its veniſon, than any other country in the world. Whatever pains the French have taken to rival us in this particular, the fleſh of their fallow-deer, of which they keep but a few, has neither the fatneſs nor the flavour of that fed upon Engliſh paſture.

However, there is ſcarce a country in Europe, except far to the northward, in which this ani⯑mal is a ſtranger. The Spaniſh fallow-deer are as large as ſtags, but of a darker colour, and a more ſlender neck: their tails are longer than thoſe of ours, they are black above, and white below. The Virginian deer are larger and ſtronger than ours, with great necks, and their colour inclinable to grey. Other kinds have the hoofs of their hind legs marked out⯑wardly with a white ſpot; and their ears and tails much longer than the common. One of theſe has been ſeen full of white ſpots, with a black liſt down the middle of his back. In Guiana, a country of South America, according to Labat, there are deer without horns, which are much leſs than thoſe of Europe, but re⯑ſembling them in every other particular. They are very lively, light of courſe, and exceſſively fearful; their hair is of a reddiſh ſallow, their [131] heads are ſmall and lean, their ears little, their necks long and arched, the tail ſhort, and the ſight piercing. When purſued, they fly into places where no other animal can follow them. The Negroes, who purſue them, ſtand to watch for them in narrow paths, which lead to the brook or the meadow where they feed; there waiting in the utmoſt ſilence, for the ſlighteſt ſound will drive them away, the Negroe, when he perceives the animal within reach, ſhoots, and is happy if he can bring down his game. Their fleſh, though ſeldom fat, is conſidered as a great delicacy, and the hunter is well rewarded for his trouble.

THE ROE-BUCK.

THE Roe-buck is the ſmalleſt of the deer kind known in our climate, and is now almoſt extinct among us, except in ſome parts of the highlands of Scotland. It is generally about three feet long, and about two feet high. The horns are from eight to nine inches long, up⯑right, round, and divided into only three branches. The body is covered with very long hair, well adapted to the rigour of its mountainous abode. The lower part of each hair is aſh colour; near the ends is a narrow [132] bar of black, and the points are yellow. The hairs on the face are black, tipped with aſh colour. The ears are long, their inſides of a pale yellow, and covered with long hair. The ſpaces bordering on the eyes and mouth, are black. The cheſt, belly, and legs, and the in⯑ſide of the thighs, are of a yellowiſh white; the rump is of a pure white, and the tail very ſhort. The make of this little animal is very elegant; and its ſwiftneſs equals its beauty. It differs from the fallow-deer, in having round horns, and not flatted like theirs. It differs from the ſtag, in its ſmaller ſize, and the pro⯑portionable paucity of its antlers: and it differs from all of the goat kind, as it annually ſheds its head, and obtains a new one, which none of that kind are ever ſeen to do.

As the ſtag frequents the thickeſt foreſts, and the ſides of the higheſt mountains, the roe⯑buck, with humbler ambition, courts the ſhady thicket, and the riſing ſlope. Although leſs in ſize, and far inferior in ſtrength to the ſtag, it is yet more beautiful, more active, and even more courageous. Its hair is always ſmooth, clean, and gloſſy; and it frequents only the dryeſt places, and of the pureſt air. Though but a very little animal, as we have already obſerved, yet, when its young is attacked, it [133] faces even the ſtag himſelf, and often comes off victorious^*. All its motions are elegant and eaſy; it bounds without effort, and con⯑tinues the courſe with but little fatigue. It is alſo poſſeſſed of more cunning in avoiding the hunter, is more difficult to purſue, and, al⯑though its ſcent is much ſtronger than that of the ſtag, it is more frequently found to make good a retreat. It is not with the roe-buck, as with the ſtag, who never offers to uſe art until his ſtrength is beginning to decline; this more cunning animal, when it finds that its firſt efforts to eſcape are without ſucceſs, re⯑turns upon its former track, again goes for⯑ward, and again returns, until by its various windings it has entirely confounded the ſcent, and joined the laſt emanations to thoſe of its former courſe. It then, by a bound, goes to one ſide, lies flat upon its belly, and permits the pack to paſs by very near, without offering to ſtir.

But the roe-buck differs not only from the ſtag in ſuperior cunning, but alſo in its natural appetites, its inclinations, and its whole habits of living. Inſtead of herding together, theſe animals live in ſeparate families; the ſire, the dam, and the young ones, aſſociate together, [134] and never admit a ſtranger into their little com⯑munity. All others of the deer kind are in⯑conſtant in their affection; but the roe-buck never leaves its mate; and as they have been generally bred up together, from their firſt fawning, they conceive ſo ſtrong an attach⯑ment, the male for the female, that they never after ſeparate. Their rutting-ſeaſon continues but fifteen days; from the latter end of October, to about the middle of November. They are not at that time, like the ſtag, overloaded with fat; they have not that ſtrong odour, which is perceived in all others of the deer kind; they have none of thoſe furious exceſſes; nothing, in ſhort, that alters their ſtate: they only drive away their fawns upon theſe occaſions; the buck forcing them to retire, in order to make room for a ſucceeding progeny: however, when the copulating ſeaſon is over, the fawns return to their does, and remain with them ſome time longer; after which, they quit them entirely, in order to begin an independant family of their own. The female goes with young but five months and an half; which alone ſerves to diſtinguiſh this animal from all others of the deer kind, that continue pregnant more than eight. In this reſpect, ſhe rather approaches more nearly to the goat kind; from which, [135] however, this race is ſeparated by the male's annual caſting its horns.

When the female is ready to bring forth ſhe ſeeks a retreat in the thickeſt part of the woods, being not leſs apprehenſive of the buck, from whom ſhe then ſeparates, than of the wolf, the wild cat, and almoſt every ravening animal of the foreſt; ſhe generally produces two at a time, and three but very rarely. In about ten or twelve days theſe are able to follow their dam, except in caſes of warm purſuit, when their ſtrength is not equal to the fatigue. Upon ſuch occaſions, the tenderneſs of the dam is very extraordinary; leaving them in the deepeſt thickets, ſhe offers herſelf to the danger, flies before the hounds, and does all in her power to lead them from the retreat where ſhe has lodged her little ones. Such animals as are nearly upon her own level ſhe boldly encoun⯑ters; attacks the ſtag, the wild cat, and even the wolf; and while ſhe has life continues her efforts to protect her young. Yet all her en⯑deavours are often vain; about the month of May, which is her fawning time, there is a greater deſtruction among thoſe animals than at any other ſeaſon of the year. Numbers of the fawns are taken alive by the peaſants; num⯑bers are found out, and worried by the dogs; [136] and ſtill more by the wolf, which has always been their moſt inveterate enemy. By theſe continual depredations upon this beautiful creature, the roe-buck is every day becoming ſcarcer; and the whole race in many countries is wholly worn out. They were once common in England; the huntſmen, who characteriſed only ſuch beaſts as they knew, have given names to the different kinds and ages, as to the ſtag: thus they called it the firſt year an hind; the ſecond, a gyrle; and the third, an hemuſe; but theſe names at preſent are utterly uſeleſs, ſince the animal no longer exiſts among us. Even in France, where it was once ex⯑tremely common, it is now confined to a few provinces; and it is probable that in an age or two the whole breed will be utterly extirpated. Mr. Buffon, indeed, obſerves, that in thoſe diſtricts where it is moſtly found, it ſeems to maintain its uſual plenty, and that the balance between its deſtruction and encreaſe is held pretty even; however, the number in general is known to decreaſe; for wherever cultivation takes place, the beaſts of nature are known to retire. Many animals that once flouriſhed in the world may now be extinct; and the deſcrip⯑tions of Ariſtotle and Pliny, though taken from life, may be conſidered as fabulous, as their archetypes are no longer exiſting.

[137]The fawns continue to follow the deer eight or nine months in all; and upon ſeparating, their horns begin to appear, ſimple and without antlers the firſt year, as in thoſe of the ſtag kind^*. Theſe they ſhed at the latter end of autumn, and renew during the winter; differ⯑ing in this from the ſtag, who ſheds them in ſpring and renews them in ſummer. When the roe-buck's head is completely furniſhed, it rubs the horns againſt trees in the manner of the ſtag, and thus ſtrips them of the rough ſkin and the blood-veſſels, which no longer contribute to their nouriſhment and growth. When theſe fall, and new ones begin to appear, the roe-buck does not retire as the ſtag to the covert of the wood, but continues its uſual haunts, only keeping down its head to avoid ſtriking its horns againſt the branches of trees, the pain of which it ſeems to feel with exquiſite ſenſibility. The ſtag, who ſheds his horns in ſummer, is obliged to ſeek a retreat from the flies, that at that time greatly incommode him; but the roe-buck, who ſheds them in winter, is under no ſuch neceſſity; and, conſequently, does not ſeparate from its little family, but keeps with the female all the year round^†.

As the growth of the roe-buck, and its arrival [138] at maturity, is much ſpeedier than that of the ſtag, ſo its life is proportionably ſhorter. It ſeldom is found to extend above twelve or fif⯑teen years; and if kept tame it does not live above ſix or ſeven. It is an animal of a very de⯑licate conſtitution, requiring variety of food, air, and exerciſe. It muſt be paired with a fe⯑male, and kept in a park of at leaſt an hundred acres. They may eaſily be ſubdued, but never thoroughly tamed. No arts can teach them to be familiar with the feeder, much leſs attached to him. They ſtill preſerve a part of their natural wildneſs, and are ſubject to terrors without a cauſe. They ſometimes, in attempt⯑ing to eſcape, ſtrike themſelves with ſuch force againſt the walls of their incloſure, that they break their limbs, and become utterly diſabled. Whatever care is taken to tame them, they are never entirely to be relied on, as they have ca⯑pricious fits of fierceneſs, and ſometimes ſtrike at thoſe they diſlike with a degree of force that is very dangerous.

The cry of the roe-buck is neither ſo loud nor ſo frequent as that of the ſtag. The young ones have a particular manner of calling to the dam, which the hunters eaſily imitate, and often thus allure the female to her deſtruction. Upon ſome occaſions alſo they become in a [139] manner intoxicated with their food, which, during the ſpring, is ſaid to ferment in their ſtomachs, and they are then very eaſily taken. In ſummer they keep cloſe under covert of the foreſt, and ſeldom venture out, except in violent heats, to drink at ſome river or foun⯑tain. In general, however, they are contented to ſlake their thirſt with the dew that falls on the graſs and the leaves of trees, and ſeldom riſque their ſafety to ſatisfy their appetite. They de⯑light chiefly in hilly grounds, preferring the tender branches and buds of trees to corn, or other vegetables; and it is univerſally allowed that the fleſh of thoſe between one and two years old is the greateſt delicacy that is known. Perhaps alſo, the ſcarceneſs of it enhances its flavour.

In America this animal is much more com⯑mon than in Europe. With us there are but two known varieties; the red, which is the larger ſort; and the brown, with a ſpot behind, which is leſs. But in the new continent the breed is extremely numerous, and the varieties in equal proportion. In Louiſiana, where they are ex⯑tremely common, they are much larger than in Europe, and the inhabitants live in a great meaſure upon its fleſh, which taſtes like mut⯑ton when well fatted. They are found alſo in [140] Braſil, where they have the name of Cuguacu Apara, only differing from ours in ſome ſlight deviations in the horns. This animal is alſo ſaid to be common in China; although ſuch as have deſcribed it ſeem to confound it with the muſk-goat, which is of a quite different nature.

THE ELK.

WE have hitherto been deſcribing minute animals in compariſon of the Elk; the ſize of which, from concurrent teſtimony, appears to be equal to that of the elephant itſelf. It is an animal rather of the buck than the ſtag kind, as its horns are flatted towards the top; but it is far beyond both in ſtature, ſome of them being known to be above ten feet high. It is a native both of the old and new continent, being known in Europe under the name of the Elk, and in America by that of the Mooſe-deer. It is ſometimes taken in the German and Ruſſian foreſts, although ſeldom appear⯑ing; but it is extremely common in North America, where the natives purſue, and track it in the ſnow. The accounts of this ani⯑mal are extremely various; ſome deſcribing it as being no higher than an horſe, and others above twelve feet high.

There is but very little difference between the European elk, and the American mooſe-deer, as they are but varieties of the ſame animal. It may be rather larger in America than with us; as in the foreſts of that unpeopled country, it receives leſs diſturbance than in our own. In all places, however, it is timorous and gentle; content with its paſture, and never willing to diſturb any other animal, when ſup⯑plied itſelf.

The European elk grows to above ſeven or eight feet high. In the year 1742, there was a female of this animal ſhewn at Paris, which was caught in a foreſt of Red Ruſſia, belonging to the Cham of Tartary^*; it was then but young, and its height was even at that time ſix feet ſeven inches; but the deſcriber obſerves, that it has ſince become much taller and thicker, ſo that we may ſuppoſe this female at leaſt [143] ſeven feet high. There have been no late op⯑portunities of ſeeing the male; but, by the rule of proportion, we may eſtimate his ſize at eight or nine feet at the leaſt, which is about twice as high as an ordinary horſe. The height, however, of the female, which was meaſured, was but ſix feet ſeven inches, Paris meaſure; or almoſt ſeven Engliſh feet high. It was ten feet from the tip of the noſe to the inſertion of the tail; and eight feet round the body. The hair was very long and coarſe, like that of a wild boar. The ears reſembled thoſe of a mule, and were a foot and an half long. The upper jaw was longer, by ſix inches, than the lower; and, like other ruminating animals, it had no teeth (cutting teeth I ſuppoſe the deſcriber means). It had a large beard under the throat, like a goat; and in the middle of the forehead, between the horns, there was a bone as large as an egg. The noſtrils were four inches long on each ſide of the mouth. It made uſe of its fore feet, as a defence againſt its enemies. Thoſe who ſhewed it, aſſerted, that it ran with aſtoniſhing ſwiftneſs; that it ſwam alſo with equal expedition, and was very fond of the water. They gave it thirty pounds of bread every day, beſide hay, and it drank eight [144] buckets of water. It was tame and familiar, and ſubmiſſive enough to its keeper.

This deſcription differs in many circum⯑ſtances from that which we have of the mooſe, or American elk, which the French call the Original. Of theſe there are two kinds, the common light grey mooſe, which is not very large; and the black mooſe, which grows to an enormous height. Mr. Dudley obſerves, that a doe or hind of the black mooſe kind, of the fourth year, wanted but an inch of ſeven feet high. All, however, of both kinds, have flat palmed horns, not unlike the fallow-deer, only that the palm is much larger, having a ſhort trunk at the head, and then immediately ſpread⯑ing above a foot broad, with a kind of ſmall antlers, like teeth, on one of the edges. In this particular, all of the elk kind agree; as well the European elk, as the grey and the black mooſe-deer.

The grey mooſe-deer is about the ſize of an horſe; and although it has large buttocks, its tail is not above an inch long. As in all of this kind the upper lip is much longer than the under, it is ſaid that they continue to go back⯑ward as they feed. Their noſtrils are ſo large that a man may thruſt his hand in a conſiderable [145] way; and their horns are as long as thoſe of a ſtag, but, as was obſerved, much broader.

The black mooſe is the enormous animal mentioned above, from eight to twelve feet high. Joſſeleyn, who is the firſt Engliſh writer that mentions it, ſays, that it is a goodly crea⯑ture, twelve feet high, with exceeding fair horns, that have broad palms, two fathoms from the top of one horn to another. He aſſures us, that it is a creature, or rather a monſter of ſuperfluity, and many times bigger than an Engliſh ox. This account is confirmed by Dudley; but he does not give ſo great an ex⯑panſion to the horns, meaſuring them only thirty-one inches between one tip and the other: however, that ſuch an extraordinary animal as Joſſeleyn deſcribes, has actually exiſted, we can make no manner of doubt of, ſince there are horns common enough to be ſeen among us, twelve feet from one tip to the other.

Theſe animals delight in cold countries, feed⯑ing upon graſs in ſummer, and the bark of trees in winter. When the whole country is deeply covered with ſnow, the mooſe-deer herd together under the tall pine-trees, ſtrip off the bark, and remain in that part of the foreſt while it yields them ſubſiſtence. It is at that time that the natives prepare to hunt them; [146] and particularly when the ſun begins to melt the ſnow by day, which is frozen again at night; for then the icy cruſt which covers the ſurface of the ſnow, is too weak to ſupport ſo great a bulk, and only retards the animal's motion. When the Indians, therefore, perceive an herd of theſe at a diſtance, they immediately prepare for their purſuit, which is not, as with us, the ſport of an hour, but is attended with toil, difficulty, and danger^*. The timorous animal no ſooner obſerves its enemies approach, than it immediately endeavours to eſcape, but ſinks at every ſtep it takes. Still, however, it pur⯑ſues its way through a thouſand obſtacles: the ſnow, which is uſually four feet deep, yields to its weight, and embarraſſes its ſpeed; the ſharp ice wounds its feet; and its lofty horns are en⯑tangled in the branches of the foreſt, as it paſſes along. The trees, however, are broken down with eaſe; and wherever the mooſe-deer runs, it is perceived by the ſnapping off the branches of trees, as thick as a man's thigh, with its horns. The chace laſts in this manner for the whole day; and ſometimes it has been known to continue for two, nay three days together; for the purſuers are often not leſs ex⯑cited by famine, than the purſued by fear. [147] Their perſeverance, however, generally ſuc⯑ceeds; and the Indian who firſt comes near enough, darts his lance, with unerring aim, which ſticks in the poor animal, and at firſt encreaſes its efforts to eſcape. In this manner the mooſe trots heavily on, (for that is its uſual pace) till its purſuers once more come up, and repeat their blow: upon this, it again ſum⯑mons up ſufficient vigour to get an head; but, at laſt, quite tired, and ſpent with loſs of blood, it ſinks, as the deſcriber expreſſes it, like a ruined building, and makes the earth ſhake beneath its fall.

THE REIN-DEER.

OF all animals of the deer kind, the Rein-Deer is the moſt extraordinary and the moſt uſeful. It is a native of the icy regions of the north; and though many attempts have been made to accuſtom it to a more ſouthern cli⯑mate, it ſhortly feels the influence of the change, and in a few months declines and dies. Nature ſeems to have fitted it entirely to anſwer the neceſſities of that hardy race of mankind that live near the pole. As theſe would find it impoſſible to ſubſiſt among their barren ſnowy mountains without its aid, ſo this animal can live only there, where its aſſiſtance is moſt abſolutely neceſſary. From it alone the natives of Lapland and Greenland ſupply moſt of their wants; it anſwers the purpoſes of an horſe, to convey them and their ſcanty fur⯑niture from one mountain to another; it anſwers [] [...] [149] [...] [150] the purpoſes of a cow, in giving milk; and it anſwers the purpoſes of the ſheep, in furniſhing them with a warm, though an homely kind of cloathing. From this quadrupede alone, there⯑fore, they receive as many advantages as we derive from three of our moſt uſeful creatures; ſo that Providence does not leave theſe poor outcaſts entirely deſtitute, but gives them a faithful domeſtic, more patient and ſerviceable than any other in nature.

The rein-deer reſembles the American elk in the faſhion of its horns. It is not eaſy in words to deſcribe theſe minute differences; nor will the reader, perhaps, have a diſtinct idea of the ſimilitude, when told that both have brow-antlers, very large, and hanging over their eyes, palmated towards the top, and bending forward, like a bow. But here the ſimilitude between theſe two animals ends; for, as the elk is much larger than the ſtag, ſo the rein-deer is much ſmaller. It is lower and ſtronger built than the ſtag; its legs are ſhorter and thicker, and its hoofs much broader than in that animal; its hair is much thicker and warmer, its horns much larger in proportion, and branching forward over its eyes; its ears are much larger; its pace is rather a trot than a bounding, and this it can continue for a whole [151] day; its hoofs are cloven and moveable, ſo that it ſpreads them abroad as it goes, to prevent its ſinking in the ſnow. When it proceeds on a journey, it lays its great horns on its back, while there are two branches which always hang over its forehead, and almoſt cover its face. One thing ſeems peculiar to this animal and the elk; which is, that as they move along, their hoofs are heard to crack with a pretty loud noiſe. This ariſes from their manner of treading; for as they reſt upon their cloven hoof, it ſpreads on the ground, and the two diviſions ſeparate from each other; but when they lift it, the diviſions cloſe again, and ſtrike againſt each other with a crack. The female alſo of the rein-deer has horns as well as the male, by which the ſpecies is diſtinguiſhed from all other animals of the deer kind whatſoever.

When the rein-deer firſt ſhed their coat of hair, they are brown; but, in proportion as ſummer approaches, their hair begins to grow whitiſh; until, at laſt, they are nearly grey^*. They are, however, always black about the eyes. The neck has long hair, hanging down, [152] and coarſer than upon any other part of the body. The feet, juſt at the inſertion of the hoof, are ſurrounded with a ring of white. The hair in general ſtands ſo thick over the whole body, that if one ſhould attempt to ſe⯑parate it, the ſkin will no where appear un⯑covered: whenever it falls alſo, it is not ſeen to drop from the root, as in other quadrupedes, but ſeems broken ſhort near the bottom; ſo that the lower part of the hair is ſeen growing, while the upper falls away.

The horns of the female are made like thoſe of the male, except that they are ſmaller and leſs branching. As in the reſt of the deer kind, they ſprout from the points; and alſo in the beginning, are furniſhed with an hairy cruſt, which ſupports the blood-veſſels, of moſt exquiſite ſenſibility. The rein-deer ſhed their horns, after rutting-time, at the latter end of November; and they are not completely fur⯑niſhed again till towards autumn. The female always retains hers till ſhe brings forth, and then ſheds them, about the beginning of No⯑vember. If ſhe be barren, however, which is not unfrequently the caſe, ſhe does not ſhed them till winter. The caſtration of the rein-deer does not prevent the ſhedding of their horns: thoſe which are the ſtrongeſt, caſt them [153] early in winter; thoſe which are more weakly, not ſo ſoon. Thus, from all theſe, circum⯑ſtances, we ſee how greatly this animal differs from the common ſtag. The female of the rein-deer has horns, which the hind is never ſeen to have; the rein-deer, when caſtrated, renews its horns, which we are aſſured the ſtag never does: it differs not leſs in its habits and manner of living, being tame, ſubmiſſive, and patient; while the ſtag is wild, capricious, and unmanageable.

The rein-deer, as was ſaid, is naturally an inhabitant of the countries bordering on the arctic circle. It is not unknown to the natives of Siberia. The North Americans alſo hunt it, under the name of the caribou. But in Lap⯑land, this animal is converted to the utmoſt advantage; and ſome herdſmen of that country are known to poſſeſs above a thouſand in a ſingle herd.

Lapland is divided into two diſtricts, the moun⯑tainous and the woody. The mountainous part of the country is at beſt barren and bleak, exceſ⯑ſively cold, and uninhabitable during the winter; ſtill, however, it is the moſt deſireable part of this frightful region, and is moſt thickly peopled during the ſummer. The natives ge⯑nerally reſide on the declivity of the mountains, [154] three or four cottages together, and lead a chearful and a ſocial life. Upon the approach of winter, they are obliged to migrate into the plains below, each bringing down his whole herd, which often amounts to more than a thouſand, and leading them where the paſture is in greateſt plenty. The woody part of the country is much more deſolate and hideous. The whole face of nature there preſents a fright⯑ful ſcene of trees without fruit, and plains without verdure. As far as the eye can reach, nothing is to be ſeen, even in the midſt of ſummer, but barren fields, covered only with a moſs, almoſt as white as ſnow; no graſs, no flowery landſcapes, only here and there a pine-tree, which may have eſcaped the frequent conflagrations by which the natives burn down their foreſts. But what is very extra⯑ordinary, as the whole ſurface of the country is cloathed in white, ſo, on the contrary, the foreſts ſeem to the laſt degree dark and gloomy. While one kind of moſs makes the fields look as if they were covered with ſnow, another kind blackens over all the trees, and even hides their verdure. This moſs, however, which deforms the country, ſerves for its only ſupport, as upon it alone the rein-deer can ſubſiſt. The inhabitants, who, during the ſum⯑mer, [155] lived among the mountains, drive down their herds in winter, and people the plains and woods below. Such of the Laplanders as inhabit the woods and the plains all the year round, live remote from each other, and having been uſed to ſolitude, are melancholy, igno⯑rant, and helpleſs. They are much poorer alſo than the mountaineers, for, while one of thoſe is found to poſſeſs a thouſand rein-deer at a time, none of theſe are ever known to rear the tenth part of that number. The rein-deer makes the riches of this people; and the cold mountainy parts of the country agree beſt with its conſtitution. It is for this reaſon, therefore, that the mountains of Lapland are preferred to the woods; and that many claim an excluſive right to the tops of hills, covered in almoſt eternal ſnow.

As ſoon as the ſummer begins to appear, the Laplander who had fed his rein-deer upon the lower grounds, during the winter, then drives them up to the mountains, and leaves the woody country, and the low paſture, which at that ſeaſon are truly deplorable. The gnats, bred, by the ſun's heat, in the marſhy bottoms, and the weedy lakes, with which the country abounds more than any other part of the world, are all upon the wing, and fill the whole air, [156] like clouds of duſt in a dry windy day. The inhabitants, at that time, are obliged to daub their faces with pitch, mixed with milk, to ſhield their ſkins from their depredations. All places are then ſo greatly infeſted, that the poor natives can ſcarce open their mouths without fear of ſuffocation; the inſects enter, from their numbers and minuteneſs, into the noſtrils and the eyes, and do not leave the ſufferer a mo⯑ment at his eaſe. But they are chiefly enemies to the rein-deer: the horns of that animal being then in their tender ſtate, and poſſeſſed of extreme ſenſibility, a famiſhed cloud of in⯑ſects inſtantly ſettle upon them, and drive the poor animal almoſt to diſtraction. In this ex⯑tremity, there are but two remedies, to which the quadrupede, as well as its maſter, are ob⯑liged to have recourſe. The one is, for both to take ſhelter near their cottage, where a large fire of tree moſs is prepared, which filling the whole place with ſmoke, keeps off the gnat, and thus, by one inconvenience, expels a greater; the other is, to aſcend to the higheſt ſummit of the mountains, where the air is too thin, and the weather too cold, for the gnats to come. There the rein-deer are ſeen to continue the whole day, although without food, rather than to venture down into the lower parts, [157] where they can have no defence againſt their unceaſing perſecutors.

Beſides the gnat, there is alſo a gadfly, that, during the ſummer ſeaſon, is no leſs formidable to them. This inſect is bred under their ſkins, where the egg has been depoſed the preceding ſummer; and it is no ſooner produced as a fly, than it again endeavours to depoſite its eggs in ſome place ſimilar to that from whence it came. Whenever, therefore, it appears flying over an herd of rein-deer, it puts the whole body, how numerous ſoever, into motion; they know their enemy, and do all they can, by toſſing their horns, and running among each other, to terrify or avoid it. All their en⯑deavours, however, are too generally without effect; the gadfly is ſeen to depoſite its eggs, which burrowing under the ſkin, wound it in ſeveral places, and often bring on an incurable diſorder.

In the morning, therefore, as ſoon as the Lapland herdſman drives his deer to paſture, his greateſt care is to keep them from ſcaling the ſummits of the mountains where there is no food, but where they go merely to be at eaſe from the gnats and gadflies that are ever annoying them. At this time, there is a ſtrong conteſt between the dogs and the deer; the one [158] endeavouring to climb up againſt the ſide of the hill, and to gain thoſe ſummits that are co⯑vered in eternal ſnows; the other, forcing them down, by barking and threatening, and, in a manner, compelling them into the places where their food is in the greateſt plenty. There the men and dogs confine them; guarding them with the utmoſt precaution the whole day, and driving them home at the proper ſeaſons for milking.

The female brings forth in the middle of May, and gives milk till about the middle of October. Every morning and evening, during the ſummer, the herdſman returns to the cottage with his deer to be milked, where the women previouſly have kindled up a ſmoky fire, which effectually drives off the gnats, and keeps the rein-deer quiet while milking. The fe⯑male furniſhes about a pint, which, though thinner than that of the cow, is, nevertheleſs, ſweeter and more nouriſhing. This done, the herdſman drives them back to paſture; as he neither folds nor houſes them, neither provides for their ſubſiſtence during the winter, nor im⯑proves their paſture by cultivation.

Upon the return of the winter, when the gnats and flies are no longer to be feared, the Laplander deſcends into the lower grounds; [159] and, as there are but few to diſpute the poſſeſſion of that deſolate country, he has an extenſive range to feed them in. Their chief and almoſt their only food at that time, is the white moſs already mentioned; which, from its being fed upon by this animal, obtains the name of the lichen rangiferinus. This is of two kinds: the woody lichen, which covers almoſt all the deſert parts of the country like ſnow; the other is black, and covers the branches of the trees in very great quantities. However unpleaſing theſe may be to the ſpectator, the native eſteems them as one of his choiceſt benefits, and the moſt indulgent gift of nature. While his fields are cloathed with moſs, he envies neither the fertility nor the verdure of the more ſouthern landſcape; dreſſed up warmly in his deer-ſkin cloaths, with ſhoes and gloves of the ſame ma⯑terials, he drives his herds along the deſert; fearleſs and at eaſe, ignorant of any higher lux⯑ury than what their milk and ſmoke dried fleſh afford him. Hardened to the climate, he ſleeps in the midſt of ice; or awaking, dozes away his time with tobacco; while his faithful dogs ſup⯑ply his place, and keep the herd from wander⯑ing. The deer, in the mean time, with inſtincts adapted to the ſoil, purſue their food, though covered in the deepeſt ſnow. They turn it up [160] with their noſes, like ſwine; and even though its ſurface be frozen and ſtiff, yet the hide is ſo hardened in that part, that they eaſily overcome the difficulty. It ſometimes, however, happens, though but rarely, that the winter commences with rain, and a froſt enſuing, covers the whole country with a glazed cruſt of ice. Then, in⯑deed, both the rein-deer and the Laplander are undone; they have no proviſions laid up in caſe of accident, and the only reſource is to cut down the large pine-trees, that are covered with moſs, which furniſhes but a ſcanty ſupply; ſo that the greateſt part of the herd is then ſeen to periſh, without a poſſibility of aſſiſtance. It ſometimes alſo happens, that even this ſupply is wanting; for the Laplander often burns down his woods, in order to improve and fertilize the ſoil which produces the moſs, upon which he feeds his cattle.

In this manner the paſtoral life is ſtill con⯑tinued near the pole; neither the coldneſs of the winter, nor the length of the nights, neither the wildneſs of the foreſt, nor the vagrant diſpoſi⯑tion of the herd, interrupt the even tenour of the Laplander's life. By night and day he is ſeen attending his favourite cattle, and remains unaffected, in a ſeaſon which would be ſpeedy death to thoſe bred up in a milder climate. He [161] gives himſelf no uneaſineſs to houſe his herds or to provide a winter ſubſiſtence for them; he is at the trouble neither of manuring his grounds, nor bringing in his harveſts; he is not the hire⯑ling of another's luxury; all his labours are to obviate the neceſſities of his own ſitua⯑tion; and theſe he undergoes with chearfulneſs, as he is ſure to enjoy the fruits of his own in⯑duſtry. If, therefore, we compare the Lap⯑lander with the peaſant of more ſouthern cli⯑mates, we ſhall have little reaſon to pity his ſituation; the climate in which he lives is ra⯑ther terrible to us than to him; and, as for the reſt, he is bleſſed with liberty, plenty, and eaſe. The rein-deer alone ſupplies him with all the wants of life, and ſome of the conve⯑niencies, ſerving to ſhew how many advantages nature is capable of ſupplying, when neceſſity gives the call. Thus, the poor, little, helpleſs native, who was originally, perhaps, driven by fear or famine into thoſe inhoſpitable cli⯑mates, would ſeem, at firſt view, to be the moſt wretched of mankind: but it is far other⯑wiſe, he looks round among the few wild ani⯑mals that his barren country can maintain, and ſingles out one from among them, and that of a kind which the reſt of mankind have not thought worth taking from a ſtate of nature; [162] this he cultivates, propagates, and multiplies, and from this alone derives every comfort that can ſoften the ſeverity of his ſituation.

The rein-deer of this country are of two kinds, the wild and the tame. The wild are larger and ſtronger, but more miſchievous than the others. Their breed, however, is pre⯑ferred to that of the tame; and the female of the latter is often ſent into the woods, from whence ſhe returns home impregnated by one of the wild kind. Theſe are fitter for drawing the ſledge, to which the Laplander accuſtoms them betimes, and yoaks them to it by a ſtrap, which goes round the neck, and comes down between their legs. The ſledge is extremely light, and ſhod at the bottom, with the ſkin of a young deer, the hair turned to ſlide on the frozen ſnow. The perſon who ſits on this guides the animal with a cord, faſtened round the horns, and encourages it to proceed with his voice, and drives it with a goad. Some of the wild breed, though by far the ſtrongeſt, are yet found re⯑fractory, and often turn upon their drivers; who have then no other reſource but to cover them⯑ſelves with their ſledge, and let the animal vent its fury upon that. But it is otherwiſe with thoſe that are tame; no creature can be more active, patient, and willing: when hard puſhed, [163] they will trot nine or ten Swediſh miles, or between fifty and ſixty Engliſh miles, at one ſtretch. But, in ſuch a caſe, the poor obe⯑dient creature fatigues itſelf to death; and, if not prevented by the Laplander, who kills it immediately, it will die a day or two after. In general, they can go about thirty miles without halting, and this without any great or dangerous efforts. This, which is the only manner of travelling in that country, can be performed only in winter, when the ſnow is glazed over with ice; and although it be a very ſpeedy me⯑thod of conveyance, yet it is inconvenient, dangerous, and troubleſome.

In order to make theſe animals more obe⯑dient, and more generally ſerviceable, they caſtrate them; which operation the Laplanders perform with their teeth; theſe become ſooner fat when taken from labour; and they are found to be ſtronger in drawing the ſledge. There is uſually one male left entire for every ſix fe⯑males; theſe are in rut from the Feaſt of St. Matthew to about Michaelmas. At this time, their horns are thoroughly burniſhed, and their battles among each other are fierce and obſti⯑nate. The females do not begin to breed till they are two years old; and then they continue regularly breeding every year till they are ſu⯑perannuated. [164] They go with young above eight months, and generally bring forth two at a time. The fondneſs of the dam for her young is very remarkable; it often happens that when they are ſeparated from her, ſhe will return from paſture, keep calling round the cottage for them, and will not deſiſt until, dead or alive, they are brought and laid at her feet. They are at firſt of a light brown; but they become darker with age; and at laſt the old ones are of a brown almoſt approaching to blackneſs. The young follow the dam for two or three years; but they do not acquire their full growth until four. They are then broke in, and managed for drawing the ſledge; and they continue ſerviceable for four or five years longer. They never live above fifteen or ſixteen years; and, when they arrive at the proper age, the Laplander generally kills them for the ſake of their ſkins and their fleſh. This he performs by ſtriking them on the back of the neck, with his knife, into the ſpinal marrow; upon which they inſtantly fall, and he then cuts the arteries that lead to the heart, and lets the blood diſ⯑charge itſelf into the cavity of the breaſt.

There is ſcarce any part of this animal that is not converted to its peculiar uſes. As ſoon as it begins to grow old, and ſome time before [165] the rut, it is killed, and the fleſh dried in the air. It is alſo ſometimes hardened with ſmoke, and laid up for travelling proviſion, when the natives migrate from one part of the country to another. During the winter, the rein-deer are ſlaughter'd as ſheep with us; and every four perſons in the family are allowed one rein-deer for their week's ſubſiſtence. In ſpring, they ſpare the herd as much as they can, and live upon freſh fiſh. In ſummer, the milk and curd of the rein-deer makes their chief provi⯑ſion; and, in autumn, they live wholly upon fowls, which they kill with a croſs-bow, or catch in ſpringes. Nor is this ſo ſcanty an al⯑lowance; ſince, at that time, the ſea-fowls come in ſuch abundance that their ponds and ſprings are covered over. Theſe are not ſo ſhy as with us, but yield themſelves an eaſy prey. They are chiefly allured to thoſe places by the ſwarms of gnats which infeſt the country during ſummer, and now repay the former inconve⯑niencies, by inviting ſuch numbers of birds as ſupply the natives with food a fourth part of the year, in great abundance.

The milk, when newly taken, is warmed in a cauldron, and thickened with rennet, and then the curd is preſſed into cheeſes, which are little and well taſted. Theſe are never found to [166] breed mites as the cheeſe of other countries, probably becauſe the mite fly is not to be found in Lapland. The whey which remains is warmed up again, and becomes of a conſiſtence as if thickened with the white of eggs. Upon this the Laplanders feed during the ſummer; it is pleaſant and well taſted, but not very nou⯑riſhing. As to butter they very ſeldom make any, becauſe the milk affords but a very ſmall quantity, and this, both in taſte and conſiſtence, is more nearly reſembling to ſuet. They never keep their milk till it turns ſour; and do not dreſs it into the variety of diſhes which the more ſouthern countries are known to do. The only delicacy they make from it is with wood ſorrel, which being boiled up with it, and coagulating, the whole is put into caſks, or deer-ſkins, and kept under ground to be eaten in winter.

The ſkin is even a more valuable part of this animal than either of the former. From that part of it which covered the head and feet, they make their ſtrong ſnow ſhoes with the hair on the outſide. Of the other parts they compoſe their garments, which are extremely warm, and which cover them all over. The hair of theſe alſo is on the outſide; and they ſometimes line them within with the fur of the Glutton, or ſome other warm furr'd animal of that cli⯑mate. [167] Theſe ſkins alſo ſerve them for beds. They ſpread them on each ſide of the fire, upon the leaves of the dwarf birch-tree, and in this manner lie both ſoft and warm. Many gar⯑ments, made of the ſkin of the rein deer, are ſo [...] [...]ery year to the inhabitants of the more ſouthern parts of Europe; and they are found ſo ſerviceable in keeping out the cold, that even people of the firſt rank are known to wear them.

In ſhort, no part of this animal is thrown away as uſeleſs The blood is preſerved in ſmall caſks, to make ſauce with the marrow in ſpring. The horns are ſold to be converted into glue. The ſinews are dried, and divided ſo as to make the ſtrongeſt kind of ſowing thread, not unlike catgut. The tongues, which are conſidered as a great delicacy, are dried, and ſold into the more ſouthern provinces. The inteſtines themſelves are waſhed like our tripe, and in high eſteem among the natives. Thus the Laplander finds all his neceſſities amply ſupplied from this ſingle animal; and he who has a large herd of theſe animals has no idea of higher luxury.

But, although the rein-deer be a very hardy and vigorous animal, it is not without its diſ⯑eaſes. I have already mentioned the pain it [168] feels from the gnat, and the apprehenſions it is under from the gad-fly. Its hide is often found pierced in an hundred places, like a ſieve, from this inſect, and not a few die in their third year, from this very cauſe Their teats alſo are ſubject to cracking, ſo that blood comes inſtead of milk. They ſometimes take a loathing for their food; and, inſtead of eating, ſtand ſtill, and chew the cud. They are alſo troubled with a vertigo, like the elk, and turn round often till they die. The Laplander judges of their ſtate by the manner of their turning. If they turn to the right, he judges their diſorder but ſlight; if they turn to the left, he deems it incurable. The rein-deer are alſo ſubject to ulcers near the hoof, which unqualifies them for travelling, or keeping with the herd. But the moſt fatal diſorder of all is that which the na⯑tives call the ſuddataka, which attacks this ani⯑mal at all ſeaſons of the year. The inſtant it is ſeized with this diſeaſe it begins to breathe with greater difficulty, its eyes begin to ſtare, and its noſtrils to expand. It acquires alſo an un⯑uſual degree of ferocity, and attacks all it meets indiſcriminately. Still, however, it continues to feed as if in health, but is not ſeen to chew the cud, and it lies down more frequently than before. In this manner it continues, every day [169] conſuming and growing more lean, till at laſt it dies from mere inanition; and not one of theſe that are attacked with this diſorder are ever found to recover. Notwithſtanding, it is but very lately known in that part of the world; although, during the laſt ten or fifteen years, it has ſpoiled whole provinces of this neceſſary creature. It is contagious; and the moment the Laplander perceives any of his herd infected, he haſtens to kill them immediately, before it ſpreads any farther. When examined internally, there is a frothy ſubſtance found in the brain, and round the lungs; the inteſtines are lax and flabby, and the ſpleen is diminiſhed almoſt to nothing. The Laplander's only cure in all theſe diſorders, is to anoint the animal's back with tar; if this does not ſucceed, he conſiders the diſeaſe as beyond the power of art; and, with his natural phlegm, ſubmits to the ſeve⯑rities of fortune.

Beſides the internal maladies of this animal there are ſome external enemies which it has to fear. The bears now and then make depreda⯑tions upon the herd; but of all their perſecu⯑tors, the creature called the Glutton is the moſt dangerous and the moſt ſucceſsful. The war between theſe is carried on not leſs in Lapland than in North America, where the rein-deer is [170] called the Caribow, and the Glutton the Carca⯑jou. This animal, which is not above the ſize of a badger, waits whole weeks together for its prey, hid in the branches of ſome ſpreading tree; and when the wild rein-deer paſſes under⯑neath, it inſtantly drops down upon it, fixing its teeth and claws into the neck, juſt behind the horns. It is in vain that the wounded ani⯑mal then flies for protection, that it ruſtles among the branches of the foreſt, the Glutton ſtill holds its former poſition; and, although it often loſes a part of its ſkin and fleſh, which are rubbed off againſt the trees, yet it ſtill keeps faſt, until its prey drops with fatigue and loſs of blood. The deer has but one only method of eſcape, which is by jumping into the water; that element its enemy cannot endure; for, as we are told, it quits its hold immediately, and then thinks only of providing for its own pro⯑per ſecurity.

THE PECCARY, OR TAJACU.

THAT animal which of all others moſt re⯑ſembles an hog, and yet is of a formation very diſtinct from it, is called the Peccary, or Tajacu. It is a native of America, and found there, in ſuch numbers, that they are ſeen in herds of ſeveral hundreds together, grazing among the woods, and inoffenſive, except when offended.

The Peccary at firſt view reſembles a ſmall hog; the form of its body, the ſhape of its head, the length of its ſnout, and the form of its legs, are entirely alike: however, when we come to examine it nearer, the differences begin to appear. The body is not ſo bulky; its legs not ſo long; its briſtles much thicker and ſtronger than thoſe of the hog, reſembling rather the quills of a porcupine, than hair; inſtead of a tail, it has only got a little fleſhy protuberance, which does not even cover its poſteriors; but that which is ſtill more extraordinary, and in which it differs from all other quadrupedes whatſoever, is, that it has got upon its back a lump reſembling the navel in other animals which is found to ſeparate a liquor of a very ſtrong ſmell. The Peccary is the only creature that has thoſe kind of glands which diſcharge the [184] muſky ſubſtance, on that part of its body. Some have them under the belly, and others under the tail; but this creature, by a conformation peculiar to itſelf, has them on its back. This lump, or navel, is ſituated on that part of the back which is over the hinder legs; it is, in general, ſo covered with long briſtles, that it cannot be ſeen, except they be drawn aſide. A ſmall ſpace then appears, that is almoſt bare, and only beſet with a few ſhort fine hairs. In the middle it riſes like a lump; and in this there is an orifice, into which one may thruſt a common gooſe quill. This hole or bag is not above an inch in depth; and round it, under the ſkin, are ſituated a number of ſmall glands, which diſtil a whitiſh liquor, which, in colour and ſubſtance, reſembles that obtained from the civet animal. Perhaps it was this analogy, that led Dr. Tyſon to ſay, that it ſmelt agreeably alſo, like that perfume. But this Mr. Buffon abſolutely denies; affirming, that the ſmell is at every time, and in every proportion, ſtrong and offenſive; and to this I can add my own teſti⯑mony, if that able naturaliſt ſhould want a voucher.

But, to be more particular in the deſcription of the other parts of this quadrupede; the colour of the body is grizly, and beſet with [185] briſtles, thicker and ſtronger than thoſe of a common hog; though not near ſo thick as thoſe of a porcupine, they reſemble, in this reſpect, that they are variegated with black and white rings. The belly is almoſt bare; and the ſhort briſtles on the ſides, gradually encreaſe in length, as they approach the ridge of the back, where ſome are five inches long. On the head alſo, between the ears, there is a large tuft of briſtles, that are chiefly black. The ears are about two inches and an half long, and ſtand upright; and the eyes reſemble thoſe of a common hog, only they are ſmaller. From the lower corner of the eye to the ſnout, is uſually ſix inches; and the ſnout itſelf is like that of an hog's, though it is but ſmall. One ſide of the lower lip is generally ſmooth, by the rubbing of the tuſk of the upper jaw. The feet and hoofs are perfectly like thoſe of a common hog; but, as was already obſerved, it has no tail. There are ſome anatomical differences in its internal ſtructure, from that of the common hog. Dr. Tyſon was led to ſuppoſe, that it had three ſtomachs; whereas the hog has but one: however, in this he was deceived, as Mr. Daubenton has plainly ſhewn, that the ſtomach is only divided by two cloſings, which gives it the appearance as if divided into three; [186] and there is no conformation that prevents the food in any part of it, from going or returning to any other.

The peccary may be tamed like the hog, and has pretty nearly the ſame habits and na⯑tural inclinations. It feeds upon the ſame aliments; its fleſh, though drier and leaner than that of the hog, is pretty good eating; it is improved by caſtration; and, when killed, not only the parts of generation muſt be taken inſtantly away, but alſo the navel on the back, with all the glands that contribute to its ſupply. If this operation be deferred for only half an hour, the fleſh becomes utterly unfit to be eaten.

The peccary is extremely numerous in all the parts of Southern America. They go in herds of two or three hundred together; and unite, like hogs, in each other's defence. They are particularly fierce when their young are attemped to be taken from them. They ſurround the plunderer, attack him without fear, and frequently make his life pay the forfeit of his raſhneſs. When any of the natives are purſued by an herd in this manner, they frequently climb a tree to avoid them; while the peccaries gather round the root, threaten with their tuſks, and their rough briſtles ſtanding erect, as in the [187] hog kind, they aſſume a very terrible appear⯑ance. In this manner they remain at the foot of the tree for hours together; while the hunter is obliged to wait patiently, and not without apprehenſions, until they think fit to retire.

The peccary is rather fond of the mountain⯑ous parts of the country, than the lowlands; it ſeems to delight neither in the marſhes nor the mud, like our hogs; it keeps among the woods, where it ſubſiſts upon wild fruits, roots, and vegetables; it is alſo an unceaſing enemy to the lizard, the toad, and all the ſerpent kinds, with which theſe uncultivated foreſts abound. As ſoon as it perceives a ſerpent, or a viper, it at once ſeizes it with its fore hoofs and teeth, ſkins it in an inſtant, and devours the fleſh. This is often ſeen; and may, therefore, be rea⯑dily credited: but as to its applying to a proper vegetable immediately after, as an antidote to the poiſon of the animal it had devoured, this part of the relation we may very well ſuſpect. The fleſh, neither of the toad or viper, as every one now knows, are poiſonous; and, therefore, there is no need of a remedy againſt their venom. Ray gives no credit to either part of the account; however, we can have no reaſon to diſbelieve that it feeds upon toads and ſerpents; it is only the making uſe of a vege⯑table [188] antidote, that appears improbable, and which perhaps had its riſe in the ignorance and credulity of the natives.

The peccary, like the hog, is very prolific; the young ones follow the dam, and do not ſeparate till they have come to perfection. If taken at firſt, they are very eaſily tamed, and ſoon loſe all their natural ferocity; however, they never ſhew any remarkable ſigns of docility, but continue ſtupid and rude, without attachment, or even ſeeming to know the hand that feeds them. They only continue to do no miſchief; and they may be permitted to run tame, without apprehending any dangerous conſequen⯑ces. They ſeldom ſtray far from home; they return of themſelves to the ſty; and do not quarrel among each other, except when they happen to be fed in common. At ſuch times, they have an angry kind of growl, much ſtronger and-harſher than that of an hog; but they are ſeldom heard to ſcream as the former, only now and then, when frighted, or irritated, they have an abrupt angry manner of blowing like the boar.

THE CAPIBARA, OR CABIAI.

THERE are ſome quadrupedes ſo entirely different from any that we are acquainted with, that it is hard to find a well known animal to which to reſemble them. In this caſe, we muſt be content to place them near ſuch as they moſt approach in form and habits, ſo that the reader may at once have ſome idea of the creature's [190] ſhape or diſpoſition, although, perhaps, an in⯑adequate and a very confuſed one.

Upon that confuſed idea, however, it will be our buſineſs to work; to bring it, by degrees, to greater preciſion; to mark out the differences of form, and thus give the cleareſt notions that words can eaſily convey. The known animal is a kind of rude ſketch of the figure we want to exhibit; from which, by degrees, we faſhion out the ſhape of the creature we deſire ſhould be known; as a ſtatuary ſeldom begins his work, till the rude outline of the figure is given by ſome other hand.—In this manner, I have placed the Capibara among the hog kind, merely becauſe it is more like an hog than any other animal commonly known, and yet, more cloſely examined, it will be found to differ in ſome of the moſt obvious particulars.

The Capibara reſembles an hog of about two years old, in the ſhape of its body, and the coarſeneſs and colour of its hair. Like the hog, it has a thick ſhort neck, and a rounded briſtly back; like the hog, it is fond of the water and marſhy places, brings forth many at a time, and, like it, feeds upon animal and ve⯑getable food. But, when examined more nearly, the differences are many and obvious. The head is longer, the eyes are larger, and the [191] ſnout, inſtead of being rounded, as in the hog, is ſplit, like that of a rabbit or hare, and fur⯑niſhed with thick ſtrong whiſkers; the mouth is not ſo wide, the number and the form of the teeth are different, for it is without tuſks: like the peccary, it wants a tail; and, unlike to all others of this kind, inſtead of a cloven hoof, it is in a manner web-footed, and thus entirely fitted for ſwimming and living in the water. The hoofs before are divided into four parts; and thoſe behind, into three; between the diviſions, there is a prolongation of the ſkin, ſo that the foot, when ſpread in ſwim⯑ming, can beat a greater ſurface of water.

As its feet are thus made for the water, ſo it is ſeen to delight entirely in that element; and ſome naturaliſts have called it the Water-hog for that reaſon. It is a native of South America, and is chiefly ſeen frequenting the borders of lakes and rivers, like the otter. It ſeizes the fiſh upon which it preys, with its hoofs and teeth, and carries them to the edge of the lake, to devour them at its eaſe. It lives alſo upon fruits, corn, and ſugar-canes. As its legs are long and broad, it is often ſeen ſitting up, like a dog that is taught to beg. Its cry more nearly reſembles the braying of an aſs, than the grunting of an hog. It ſeldom goes our, ex⯑cept [192] at night, and that always in company. It never ventures far from the ſides of the river or the lake in which it preys; for as it runs ill, becauſe of the length of its feet, and the ſhort⯑neſs of its legs, ſo its only place of ſafety is the water, into which it immediately plunges when purſued, and keeps ſo long at the bottom, that the hunter can have no hopes of taking it there. The Capibara, even in a ſtate of wildneſs, is of a gentle nature, and, when taken young, is eaſily tamed. It comes and goes at command, and even ſhews an attachment to its keeper. Its fleſh is ſaid to be fat and tender, but, from the nature of its food, it has a fiſhy taſte, like that of all thoſe which are bred in the water. Its head, however, is ſaid to be excellent; and, in this, it reſembles the beaver, whoſe fore parts taſte like fleſh, and the hinder like the fiſh it feeds on.

THE BABYROUESSA, OR INDIAN HOG.

Theſe enormous tuſks give this animal a very formidable appearance; and yet it is thought to be much leſs dangerous than the wild boar^*. Like animals of the hog kind, they go together in a body, are often ſeen in company with the wild boar, with which, however, they are never known to engender. They have a very ſtrong ſcent, which diſcovers them to the hounds; and, when purſued, they growl dreadfully, often turn⯑ing [195] back upon the dogs, and wounding them with the tuſks of the lower jaw, for thoſe of the upper are rather an obſtruction than a defence. They run much ſwifter than the boar, and have a more exquiſite ſcent, winding the men and the dogs at a great diſtance. When hunted cloſely, they generally plunge themſelves into the ſea, where they ſwim with great ſwiftneſs and facility, diving, and riſing again at plea⯑ſure; and in this manner they moſt frequently eſcape their purſuers. Although fierce and ter⯑rible when offended, yet they are peaceable and harmleſs when unmoleſted. They are eaſily tamed, and their fleſh is good to be eaten; but it is ſaid to putrefy in a very ſhort time. They have a way of repoſing themſelves different from moſt other animals of the larger kind; which is by hitching one of their upper tuſks on the branch of a tree, and then ſuffering their whole body to ſwing down at eaſe. Thus ſuſ⯑pended from a tooth, they continue the whole night quite ſecure, and out of the reach of ſuch animals as hunt them for prey.

The Babyroueſſa, though by its teeth and tuſks it ſeems fitted for a ſtate of hoſtility, and probably is carnivorous, yet, nevertheleſs, ſeems chiefly to live upon vegetables and the leaves of trees. It ſeldom ſeeks to break into [196] gardens, like the boar, in order to pillage the more ſucculent productions of human induſtry, but lives remote from mankind, content with coarſer fare and ſecurity. It has been ſaid that it was only to be found in the iſland of Borneo, but this is a miſtake, as it is well known in many other parts, both of Aſia and Africa, as at the Celebes, at Eſtrila, Senegal, and Ma⯑dagaſcar^*.

Such are the animals of the hog kind, which are not diſtinctly known; and even all theſe, as we ſee, have been but imperfectly examined, or deſcribed. There are ſome others of which we have ſtill more imperfect notices; ſuch as the Warree, an hog of the iſthmus of Darien, deſcribed by Wafer, with large tuſks and ſmall ears, and briſtles like a coarſe fur all over the body. This, however, may be the European hog, which has run wild in that part of the new world, as no other traveller has taken no⯑tice of the ſame. The Canary boar ſeems dif⯑ferent from other animals of this kind, by the largeneſs of its tuſks; and, as is judged from the ſkeleton, by the apperture of its noſtrils, and the number of its grinders. I cannot con⯑clude this account of thoſe animals that are thus furniſhed with enormous tuſks, without [197] obſerving that there is a ſtrong conſent between theſe and the parts of generation. When ca⯑ſtrated, it is well known that the tuſks grow much ſmaller, and are ſcarce ſeen to appear without the lips; but what is ſtill more remark⯑able, is, that in a boar, if the tuſks by any ac⯑cident or deſign be broke away, the animal abates of its fierceneſs and venery, and it pro⯑duces nearly the ſame effect upon its conſti⯑tution as if caſtration had actually taken place^*.

THE LION.

[213]THE influence of climate upon mankind is very ſmall^*; he is found to ſubſiſt in all parts of the earth, as well under the frozen poles, as beneath the torrid zone: but in animals, the climate may be conſidered as congenial, and a kind of ſecond nature. They almoſt all have their particular latitudes, beyond which they are unable to ſubſiſt; either periſhing with a moderate cold, or dying for want of a frozen air, even in a temperate climate. The rein⯑deer is never ſeen to depart from the icy fields of the north; and, on the contrary, the lion degenerates, when taken from beneath the line. The whole earth is the native country of man; but all inferior animals, have each their own peculiar diſtricts.

Moſt terreſtrial animals are found larger, fiercer, and ſtronger, in the warm than in the cold or temperate climates. They are alſo more courageous and enterprizing; all their diſpoſitions ſeeming to partake of the ardour of their native ſoil. The lion, produced under [] [...] [213] [...] [214] the burning ſun of Africa, is, of all others, the moſt terrible, the moſt undaunted. The wolf or the dog, inſtead of attempting to rival him, ſcarce deſerve to attend his motions, or become his providers. Such, however, of theſe animals, as are bred in a more temperate climate, or towards the tops of cold and lofty mountains, are far more gentle, or, to ſpeak more properly, far leſs dangerous than thoſe bred in the torrid vallies beneath. The lions of Mount Atlas, the tops of which are covered in eternal ſnows, have neither the ſtrength nor the ferocity of the lions of Bildul⯑gerid or Zaara, where the plains are covered with burning ſands. It is particularly in theſe frightful deſerts, that thoſe enormous and ter⯑rible beaſts are found, that ſeem to be the ſcourge and the terror of the neighbouring kingdoms. Happily, indeed, the ſpecies is not very nu⯑merous; and it ſeems to be diminiſhing daily; for thoſe who have travelled through theſe countries, aſſure us, that there are by no means ſo many there at preſent, as were known for⯑merly; and Mr. Shaw obſerves, that the Romans carried fifty times as many lions from Lybia, in one year, to combat in their amphitheatres, as are to be found in the whole country at this time. The ſame remark is made with regard [215] to Turky, to Perſia, and the Indies; where the lions are found to diminiſh in their numbers every day. Nor is it difficult to aſſign the cauſe of this diminution: it is obvious that it cannot be owing to the encreaſe of the force of other quadrupedes, ſince they are all inferior to the lion, and, conſequently, inſtead of leſ⯑ſening the number, only tend to encreaſe the ſupplies on which they ſubſiſt; it muſt, there⯑fore, be occaſioned by the encreaſe of mankind, who is the only animal in nature capable of making head againſt theſe tyrants of the foreſt, and preventing their encreaſe. The arms even of an Hottentot or a Negroe make them more than a match for this powerful creature; and they ſeldom make the attack, without coming off victorious. Their uſual manner is to find out his retreat, and, with ſpears headed with iron, to provoke him to the combat: four men are conſidered as ſufficient for this encounter; and he againſt whom the lion flies, receives him upon his ſpear, while the others attack him behind; the lion, finding himſelf wounded in the rear, turns that way, and thus gives the man he firſt attacked, an opportunity to recover. In this manner they attack him on all ſides; until, at laſt, they entirely diſable, and then diſpatch him. This ſuperiority in the numbers, [216] and the arts of man, that are ſufficient to con⯑quer the lion, ſerve alſo to enervate and diſ⯑courage him; for he is brave only in proportion to the ſucceſs of his former encounters. In the vaſt deſerts of Zaara, in the burning ſands that lie between Mauritania and Negroland, in the uninhabited countries that lie to the north of Cafraria, and, in general, in all the deſerts of Africa, where man has not fixed his habita⯑tion, the lions are found in great numbers, and preſerve their natural courage and force. Ac⯑cuſtomed to meaſure their ſtrength with every animal they meet, the habit of conquering ren⯑ders them intrepid and terrible. Having never experienced the dangerous arts and combina⯑tions of man, they have no apprehenſions from his power. They boldly face him, and ſeem to brave the force of his arms. Wounds rather ſerve to provoke their rage than repreſs their ardour. They are not daunted even with the oppoſition of numbers; a ſingle lion of the de⯑ſert often attacks an entire caravan; and, after an obſtinate combat, when he finds himſelf overpowered, inſtead of flying, he continues to combat, retreating, and ſtill facing the enemy till he dies. On the contrary, the lions which inhabit the peopled countries of Morocco or India, having become acquainted with human [217] power, and experienced man's ſuperiority, have loſt all their courage, ſo as to be ſcared away with a ſhout; and ſeldom attack any but the unreſiſting flocks or herds, which even women and children are ſufficient to protect.

This alteration in the lion's diſpoſition ſuf⯑ficiently ſhews that he might eaſily be tamed, and admit of a certain degree of educa⯑tion. ‘"In fact, nothing is more common than for the keepers of wild beaſts to play with this animal, to pull out his tongue, and even to chaſtiſe him without a cauſe. He ſeems to bear it all with the utmoſt compoſure; and we very rarely have inſtances of his reveng⯑ing theſe unprovoked ſallies of impertinent cruelty. However, when his anger is at laſt excited, the conſequences are terrible. Labat tells us of a gentleman who kept a lion in his chamber, and employed a ſervant to at⯑tend it; who, as is uſual, mix'd his blows with careſſes. This ill-judged aſſociation con⯑tinued for ſome time; till one morning the gentleman was awakened by a noiſe in his room, which, at firſt, he could not tell the cauſe of; but, drawing the curtains, he per⯑ceived an horrid ſpectacle; the lion growling over the man's head, which he had ſepa⯑rated from the body, and toſſing it round the [218] floor. He immediately, therefore, flew into the next room, called to the people with⯑out, and had the animal ſecured from doing further miſchief."’ However, this ſingle ac⯑count is not ſufficient to weigh againſt the many inſtances we every day ſee of this creature's gentleneſs and ſubmiſſion. He is often bred up with other domeſtic animals, and is ſeen to play innocently and familiarly among them; and, if it ever happens that his natural ferocity returns, it is ſeldom exerted againſt his bene⯑factors. As his paſſions are ſtrong, and his appetites vehement, one ought not to preſume that the impreſſions of education will always prevail; ſo that it would be dangerous in ſuch circumſtances to ſuffer him to remain too long without food, or to perſiſt in irritating and abuſing him: however, numberleſs, accounts aſſure us that his anger is noble, his courage magnanimous, and his diſpoſition grateful. He has been often ſeen to deſpiſe contemptible enemies, and pardon their inſults when it was in his power to puniſh them. He has been ſeen to ſpare the lives of ſuch as were thrown to be devoured by him, to live peaceably with them, to afford them a part of his ſubſiſtence, and ſometimes to want food himſelf rather than de⯑prive them of that life which his generoſity had ſpared.

[219]It may alſo be ſaid that the lion is not cruel, ſince he is ſo only from neceſſity, and never kills more than he conſumes. When ſatiated, he is perfectly gentle; while the tiger, the wolf, and all the inferior kinds, ſuch as the fox, the pole-cat, and the ferret, kill without remorſe, are fierce without cauſe, and, by their indiſ⯑criminate ſlaughter, ſeem rather to ſatisfy their malignity than their hunger.

The outward form of the lion ſeems to ſpeak his internal generoſity. His figure is ſtriking, his look confident and bold, his gait proud, and his voice terrible. His ſta⯑ture is not overgrown, like that of the ele⯑phant, or rhinoceros; nor is his ſhape clumſy, like that of the hippopotamos, or the ox. It is compact, well proportioned, and ſizeable; a perfect model of ſtrength joined with agility. It is muſcular and bold, neither charged with fat or unneceſſary fleſh. It is ſufficient but to ſee him in order to be aſſured of his ſuperior force. His large head ſurrounded with a dread⯑ful mane; all thoſe muſcles that appear under the ſkin ſwelling with the ſlighteſt exertions; and the great breadth of his paws, with the thickneſs of his limbs, plainly evince that no other animal in the foreſt is capable of oppoſ⯑ing him. He has a very broad face that, as ſome have imagined, reſembles the human. It [220] is ſurrounded with very long hair, which gives it a very majeſtic air. The top of the head, the temples, the cheeks, the under jaw, the neck, the breaſt, the ſhoulder, the hinder part of the legs, and the belly, are furniſhed with it, while all the reſt of the body is covered with very ſhort hair, of a tawny colour. ‘"The length of the hair in many parts, and the ſhort⯑neſs of it in others, ſerves a good deal to diſ⯑guiſe this animal's real figure. The breaſt, for inſtance, appears very broad, but in reality it is as narrow and contracted in proportion as that of the generality of dogs and horſes. For the ſame reaſon, the tail ſeems to be of an equal thickneſs from one end to the other, on account of the inequality of the hair with which it is encom⯑paſſed; it being ſhorter near the inſertion where the fleſh and bones are large, and growing longer in proportion as its real thickneſs leſſens towards the point, where it ends in a tuft. The hair about the neck and breaſt is not dif⯑ferent from that on the reſt of the body, except in the length of it; nor is each hair pointed as in moſt other animals, but of an equal thick⯑neſs from one end to the other. The neck is very ſtrong, but not compoſed of one ſolid bone, as Ariſtotle has imagined; on the con⯑trary, though very ſhort and muſcular, it has [221] as many bones as the camel or the horſe; for it is univerſal to all quadrupedes to have ſeven joints in the neck; and not one of them have either more or leſs. However, the muſcles in the neck of the lion, that tye the bones toge⯑ther, are extremely ſtrong, and have ſome⯑what the appearance of bones; ſo that ancient authors, who have treated of this animal, have miſtaken the whole for a ſingle bone. The tongue is rough, and beſet with prickles as hard as a cat's claws; theſe have the grain turned backwards; ſo that it is probable a lion, if it ſhould attempt to lick a man's hand, as we are told it ſometimes does, would tear off the ſkin. The eyes are always bright and fiery; nor even in death does this terrible look forſake them. In ſhort, the ſtructure of the paws, teeth, eyes, and tongue, are the ſame as in a cat; and alſo in the inward parts theſe two ani⯑mals ſo nearly reſemble each other, that the anatomiſt's chief diſtinction ariſes merely from the ſize."’

The lion has, as was obſerved before, a large mane, which grows every year longer as the animal grows older: the lioneſs is without this ornament at every age. This mane is not coarſe or rough as in an horſe, but compoſed of the ſame hair with the reſt of the body, lengthened, [222] and ſhining. The mane, as well as the reſt of the body, is of a yellow colour; nor is there ever any difference to be found in the colour of one lion from that of another. What the ancients might have ſaid concerning black lions, or white, or ſtreaked like the tiger, is not confirmed by modern experience; ſo that theſe varieties have never been ſeen, or exiſt no longer.

It is uſually ſuppoſed that the lion is not poſ⯑ſeſſed of the ſenſe of ſmelling in ſuch perfec⯑tion as moſt other animals. It is alſo obſerved, that too ſtrong a light greatly incommodes him. This is more than probable from the formation of his eyes, which, like thoſe of the cat, ſeem fitted for ſeeing beſt in the dark. For this rea⯑ſon, he ſeldom appears in open day, but ra⯑vages chiefly by night; and not only the lion, but all other animals of the cat kind, are kept off by the fires which the inhabitants light to preſerve their herds and flocks; the brightneſs of the [...]lame dazzles their eyes, which are only fitted for ſeeing in the dark; and they are afraid to venture blindly into thoſe places which they know to be filled with their enemies. ‘"It is equally true of all this kind, that they hunt rather by the ſight than the ſmell; and it ſometimes happens that the lion purſues either [223] the jackall or the wild dog, while they are hunting upon the ſcent; and, when they have run the beaſt down, he comes in and monopo⯑lizes the ſpoil. From hence, probably, may have ariſen the ſtory of the lion's provider: theſe little induſtrious animals may often, it is true, provide a feaſt for the lion; but they have hunted merely for themſelves, and he is an unwelcome intruder upon the fruits of their toil."’

The lion, when hungry, boldly attacks all animals that come in his way; but, as he is very formidable, and as they all ſeek to avoid him, he is often obliged to hide, in order to take them by ſurprize. For this purpoſe he crouches on his belly, in ſome thicket, or among the long graſs, which is found in many parts of the foreſt; in this retreat he continues, with patient expectation, until his prey comes within a proper diſtance, and he then ſprings after it, fifteen or twenty feet from him, and often ſeizes it at the firſt bound. If he miſſes the effort, and in two or three reiterated ſprings cannot ſeize his prey, he continues motionleſs for a time, ſeems to be very ſenſible of his diſappointment, and waits for a more ſucceſs⯑ful opportunity. In the deſerts and foreſts, his moſt uſual prey are the gazelles and the [224] monkeys, with which the torrid regions abound. The latter he takes when they happen to be upon the ground, for he cannot climb trees like the cat or the tiger. He devours a great deal at a time, and generally fills himſelf for two or three days to come. His teeth are ſo ſtrong that he very eaſily breaks the bones, and ſwallows them with the reſt of the body. It is reported that he ſuſtains hunger a very long time, but thirſt he cannot ſupport in an equal degree, his temperament being extremely hot; ſome have even aſſerted that he is in a continual fever. He drinks as often as he meets with water, lapping it like a cat; which, as we know, drinks but ſlowly. He generally re⯑quires about fifteen pound of raw fleſh in a day; he prefers that of live animals, and par⯑ticularly thoſe which he has juſt killed. He ſeldom devours the bodies of animals when they begin to putrify; and he chuſes rather to hunt for a freſh ſpoil than to return to that which he had half devoured before. However, though he uſually feeds upon freſh proviſion, his breath is very offenſive, and his urine inſup⯑portable.

The roaring of the lion is ſo loud, that when it is heard in the night, and re-echoed by the mountains, it reſembles diſtant thunder. This [225] roar is his natural note; for when enraged he has a different growl, which is ſhort, broken, and reiterated. The roar is a deep hollow growl, which he ſends forth five or ſix times a day, particularly before rains. The cry of anger is much louder and more formidable. This is always excited by oppoſition; and upon thoſe occaſions, when the lion ſummons up all his terrors for the combat, nothing can be more terrible. He then laſhes his ſides with his long tail, which alone is ſtrong enough to lay a man level. He moves his mane in every direc⯑tion; it ſeems to riſe and ſtand like briſtles round his head; the ſkin and muſcles of his face are all in agitation; his huge eye-brows half cover his glaring eye balls; he diſcovers his teeth, which are formed rather for deſtruction than chewing his food; he ſhews his tongue covered with points, and extends his claws, which ap⯑pear almoſt as long as a man's fingers. Pre⯑pared in this manner for war, there are few ani⯑mals that will venture to engage him; and even the boldeſt of the human kind are daunted at his approach. The elephant, the rhinoceros, the tiger, and the hippopotamos, are the only animals that are not afraid ſingly to make op⯑poſition.

[226] ‘"Nevertheleſs, neither the leopard nor the wild boar, if provoked, will ſhun the combat; they do not ſeek the lion to attack, but will not fly at his approach; they wait his onſet, which he ſeldom makes unleſs compelled by hunger; they then exert all their ſtrength, and are ſometimes ſucceſsful. We are told of the combat of a lion and a wild boar, in a meadow near Algiers, which continued for a long time with incredible obſtinacy. At laſt, both were ſeen to fall by the wounds they had given each other; and the ground all about them was co⯑vered with their blood. Theſe inſtances how⯑ever are very rare, for the lion is in general the undiſputed maſter of the foreſt. Man is the only creature that attacks him with almoſt cer⯑tain ſucceſs; with the aſſiſtance of dogs and horſes, which are trained to the purſuit. Theſe animals that, in a ſtate of nature, would have fled from the preſence of the lion, in an agony of conſternation, when conſcious of the aſſiſtance of man, become purſuers in turn, and boldly hunt their natural tyrant. The dogs are al⯑ways of the large breed; and the horſes them⯑ſelves, as Gaſner aſſures us, muſt be of that ſort called Charoſſi, or lion eyed, all others of this kind flying at the ſight of the lion, and [227] endeavouring to throw their riders. When the lion is rouzed, he recedes with a ſlow proud motion; he never goes off directly forward, nor meaſures his paces equally, but takes an oblique courſe, going from one ſide to the other, and bounding rather than running. When the hunters approach him, they either ſhoot or throw their javelins; and in this man⯑ner diſable him before he is attacked by the dogs, many of whom he would otherwiſe de⯑ſtroy. He is very vivacious, and is never killed at once, but continues to fight deſpe⯑rately even after he has received his mortal blow. He is alſo taken by pit-falls; the na⯑tives digging a deep hole in the ground, and covering it ſlightly over with ſticks and earth; which, however, give way beneath his weight, and he ſinks to the bottom, from whence he has no means of eſcape. But the moſt uſual manner of taking this animal is while yet a cub, and incapable of reſiſtance. The place near the den of the lioneſs is generally well known by the greatneſs of her depredations on that occaſion; the natives, therefore, watch the time of her abſence and, aided by a ſwift horſe, carry off her cubs; which they ſell to ſtrangers, or to the great men of their country."’

[228]The lion, while young and active, lives by hunting in the foreſt at the greateſt diſtance from any human habitation; and ſeldom quits this retreat while able to ſubſiſt by his natural induſtry; but when he becomes old, and unfit for the purpoſes of ſurprize, he boldly comes down into places more frequented, attacks the flocks and herds that take ſhelter near the ha⯑bitation of the ſhepherd or the huſbandman, and depends rather upon his courage than his addreſs for ſupport. It is remarkable, however, that when he makes one of theſe deſperate ſallies, if he finds men and quadrupedes in the ſame field, he only attacks the latter, and never meddles with men, unleſs they provoke him to engage. It is obſerved that he prefers the fleſh of camels to any other food; he is like⯑wiſe ſaid to be fond of that of young elephants; theſe he often attacks before their trunk is yet grown; and, unleſs the old elephant comes to their aſſiſtance, he makes them an eaſy prey.

The lion is terrible upon all occaſions, but particularly at thoſe ſeaſons when he is incited by deſire, or when the female has brought forth. It is then that the lioneſs is ſeen followed by eight or ten males, who ſight moſt bloody battles among each other, till one of them be⯑comes [229] victorious over all the reſt. She is ſaid to bring forth in ſpring, and to produce but once a year. ‘"With reſpect to the time of geſtation, naturaliſts have been divided, ſome aſſerting that the lioneſs went with young ſix months, and others but two. The time alſo of their growth and their age have hitherto been left in obſcurity; ſome aſſerting that they acquired their full growth in three years, and others that they required a longer period to come to perfection; ſome ſaying (and among this number is Mr. Buffon) that they lived to but twenty, or twenty-two years at moſt; others making their lives even of ſhorter duration. All theſe doubts are now reduced to certainty; for we have had ſeveral of theſe animals bred in the Tower; ſo that the manner of their co⯑pulation, the time of their geſtation, the num⯑ber they bring forth, and the time they take to come to perfection, are all pretty well known. Although the lion emits his urine backwards, yet he couples in the ordinary man⯑ner; and, as was ſaid before, his internal ſtruc⯑ture in almoſt every reſpect reſembles that of a cat. The lioneſs, however, is upon theſe oc⯑caſions particularly fierce, and often wounds the lion in a terrible manner. She goes with young, [230] as I am aſſured by her keeper, no more than five months; the young ones, which are never more than two in number when brought forth, are about the ſize of a large pug dog, harmleſs, pretty, and playful; they continue the teat for twelve months, and the animal is more than five years in coming to perfection. As to its age, from its impriſoned ſtate, we can have no cer⯑tainty; ſince it is very probable that, being deprived of its natural climate, food, and ex⯑erciſe, its life muſt be very much abridged. However, naturaliſts have hitherto been greatly miſtaken as to the length of its exiſtence. The great he-lion, called Pompey, which died in the year 1760, was known to have been in the Tower for above ſeventy years; and one lately died there, which was brought from the river Gambia, that died above ſixty-three. The lion, therefore, is a very long-lived animal; and, very probably, in his native foreſts, his age exceeds even that of man himſelf."’

In this animal, all the paſſions, even of the moſt gentle kind, are in exceſs, but particu⯑larly the attachment of the female to her young. The lioneſs, though naturally leſs ſtrong, leſs courageous, and leſs miſchievous than the lion, becomes terrible when ſhe has got young ones [231] to provide for. She then makes her incurſions with even more intrepidity than the lion him⯑ſelf; ſhe throws herſelf indiſcriminately among men and other animals; deſtroys without di⯑ſtinction; loads herſelf with the ſpoil, and brings it home reaking to her cubs; whom ſhe accuſtoms betimes to cruelty and ſlaughter. She uſually brings forth in the moſt retired and inacceſſible places; and when ſhe fears to have her retreat diſcovered, often hides her tracks, by running back her ground, or by bruſhing them out with her tail. She ſometimes alſo, when her apprehenſions are great, tranſports them from one place to another; and, if ob⯑ſtructed, defends them with determined cou⯑rage, and fights to the laſt.

The lion is chiefly an inhabitant of the torrid zone; and, as was ſaid, is always moſt for⯑midable there: nevertheleſs, he can ſubſiſt in more temperate climates; and there was a time when even the ſouthern parts of Europe were infeſted by him. At preſent, he is only found in Africa and the Eaſt-Indies; in ſome of which countries he grows to an enormous height. The lion of Bildulgedid is ſaid to be nearly five feet high, and between nine and ten feet from the tip of the noſe to the inſertion of the tail. [232] We have in the Tower, at preſent, one of above four feet high, that was brought from Morocco, which is the largeſt that for ſome time paſt has been ſeen in Europe. The or⯑dinary ſize is between three and four feet; the female being in all her dimenſions about one third leſs than the male. There are no lions in America; the Puma, which has received the name of the America Lion, is, when compared, a very contemptible animal, having neither the ſhape, the ſize, nor the mane of the lion; being known to be extremely cowardly, to climb trees for its prey, to ſubſiſt rather by its cunning than its courage, and to be inferior even to the animal that goes by the name of the American Tiger. We ought not, therefore, to confound this little treacherous creature with the lion, which all the ancients have concurred in deno⯑minating the king of beaſts, and which they have deſcribed as brave and merciful. ‘"In⯑deed, the numerous accounts which they have given us of this animal's generoſity and tender⯑neſs, ſhew that there muſt be ſome foundation for the general belief of its good qualities; for mankind ſeldom err when they are all found to unite in the ſame ſtory. However, perhaps, the caution of Ariſtrophanes, the comic poet, [] Figure 11. The Lioneſs.De Seve del.Iſ^c. Taylor sculp. [232] [...] [] [...] [233] is better followed in practice, who adviſes us to have nothing to do with this creature, but to let the lioneſs ſuckle her own whelps^*."’

THE TIGER.

‘"THE antients had a ſaying, ‘That as the peacock is the most beautiful among birds, ſo is the tiger among quadrupedes ^*.’ In fact, no quadru⯑pede can be more beautiful than this animal; the gloſſy ſmoothneſs of his hair, which lies much ſmoother, and ſhines with greater bright⯑neſs than even that of the leopard; the extreme blackneſs of the ſtreaks with which he is marked, and the bright yellow colour of the ground which they diverſify, at once ſtrike the beholder. To this beauty of colouring is added an extremely elegant form, much larger indeed than that of the leopard, but more ſlender, more delicate, and beſpeaking the moſt ex⯑treme ſwiftneſs and agility. Unhappily, how⯑ever, this animal's diſpoſition is as miſchievous as its form is admirable, as if Providence was willing to ſhew the ſmall value of beauty, by beſtowing it on the moſt noxious of quadru⯑pedes. [234] We have, at preſent, one of theſe ani⯑mals in the Tower, which to the view appears the moſt good natured and harmleſs creature in the world; its phyſiognomy is far from fierce or angry; it has not the commanding ſtern countenance of the lion, but a gentle placid air; yet for all this it is fierce and ſavage beyond meaſure; neither correction can terrify it, nor indulgence can tame."’

The chief and moſt obſervable diſtinction in the tiger, and in which it differs from all others of the mottled kind, is in the ſhape of its co⯑lours, which run in ſtreaks or bands in the ſame direction as his ribs from the back down to the belly. The leopard, the panther, and the ounce, are all partly covered like this animal, but with this difference, that their colours are broken in ſpots all over the body; whereas in the tiger they ſtretch lengthwiſe, and there is ſcarce a round ſpot to be found on his ſkin. Beſides this there are other obſervable diſtinc⯑tions: the tiger is much larger, and often found bigger even than the lion himſelf: it is much ſlenderer alſo in proportion to its ſize; its legs ſhorter, and its neck and body longer. In ſhort, of all other animals, it moſt reſembles the cat in ſhape; and, if we conceive the latter [235] magnified to a very great degree, we ſhall have a tolerable idea of the former.

In claſſing carnivorous animals, we may place the lion foremoſt^*; and immediately after him follows the tiger, which ſeems to par⯑take of all the noxious qualities of the lion without ſharing any of his good ones. To pride, courage, and ſtrength, the lion joins greatneſs, clemency, and generoſity; but the tiger is fierce without provocation, and cruel without neceſſity. The lion ſeldom ravages except when excited by hunger; the tiger, on the con⯑trary, though glutted with ſlaughter, is not ſa⯑tisfied, ſtill continues the carnage, and ſeems to have its courage only enflamed by not find⯑ing reſiſtance. In falling in among a flock or an herd, it gives no quarter, but levels all with indiſcriminate cruelty, and ſcarce finds time to appeaſe its appetite while intent upon ſatisfying the malignity of its nature. It thus becomes the ſcourge of the country where it is found; it fears neither the threats nor the oppoſition of mankind; the beaſts both wild and tame fall equally a ſacrifice to its inſatiable fury; the young elephant and the rhinoceros become [236] equally its prey, and it not unfrequently ven⯑tures to attack the lion himſelf.

Happily for the reſt of nature, that this ani⯑mal is not common, and that the ſpecies is chiefly confined to the warmeſt provinces of the eaſt. The tiger is found in Malabar, in Siam, in Ben⯑gal, and in all the ſame countries which are inha⯑bited by the elephant or the rhinoceros. Some even pretend that it has a friendſhip for, and often accompanies the latter, in order to devour its excrements, which ſerve it as a purge. Be this as it will, there is no doubt but that they are often ſeen together at the ſides of lakes and rivers; where they are probably both compelled to go by the thirſt which in that torrid climate they muſt very often endure. It is likely enough alſo that they ſeldom make war upon each other, the rhinoceros being a peaceable animal, and the tiger knowing its ſtrength too well to venture the engagement. It is ſtill more likely that the tiger finds this a very convenient ſitu⯑ation, ſince it can there ſurprize a greater num⯑ber of animals, which are compelled thither from the ſame motives. In fact, it is generally known to lurk near ſuch places where it has an opportunity of chuſing its prey, or rather of multiplying its maſſacres. When it has [237] killed one it often goes to deſtroy others, ſwal⯑lowing their blood at large draughts, and ſeem⯑ing rather glutted than ſatiated with its abun⯑dance.

However, when it has killed a large ani⯑mal, ſuch as an horſe, or a buffalo, it imme⯑diately begins to devour it on the ſpot, fearing to be diſturbed. In order to feaſt at its eaſe, it carries off its prey to the foreſt, dragging it along with ſuch eaſe, that the ſwiftneſs of its motion ſeems ſcarce retarded by the enormous load it ſuſtains. From this alone we may judge of its ſtrength; but, to have a more juſt idea of this particular, let us ſtop a moment to con⯑ſider the dimenſions of this moſt formidable creature. Some travellers have compared it for ſize to an horſe, and others to a buffalo, while others have contented themſelves with ſaying that it was much larger than a lion. We have recent accounts of this animal's magnitude that deſerve the utmoſt confidence. Mr. Buffon has been aſſured by one of his friends that he ſaw a tiger, in the Eaſt-Indies, of fifteen feet long. ‘"Suppoſing that he means including the tail, this animal, allowing four feet for that, muſt have been eleven feet from the tip of the noſe to the inſertion of the tail. Indeed, that which is now in the Tower is not ſo large, being as [238] well as I could meaſure ſix feet from the tip to the inſertion, and the tail was three feet more. Like all the reſt of its kind, its motions are irregular and defaltory; it bounds rather than runs; and like them rather chuſes to take its prey by ſurprize than to be at the trouble of hunting it down."’ How large a leap it can take at once we may eaſily judge, by comparing what it might do to what we ſee ſo ſmall an animal as the cat actually perform. The cat can leap ſeveral feet at a bound; and the tiger, who is ten times as long, can no doubt ſpring proportionably.

‘"The tiger is the only animal whoſe ſpirit ſeems untameable. Neither force nor con⯑ſtraint, neither violence nor flattery, can pre⯑vail in the leaſt on its ſtubborn nature. The careſſes of the keeper have no influence on their heart of iron; and time, inſtead of mollifying its diſpoſition, only ſerves to encreaſe its fierce⯑neſs and malignity. The tiger ſnaps at the hand that feeds it as well as that by which it is chaſtiſed; every object ſeems conſidered only as its proper prey, which it devours with a look; and, although confined by bars and chains, ſtill makes fruitleſs efforts, as if to ſhew its malig⯑nity when incapable of exerting its force."’

[239]To give a ſtill more complete idea of the ſtrength of this terrible creature, we ſhall quote a paſſage from Father Tachard, who was an eye-witneſs of a combat between a tiger and two elephants at Siam. For this purpoſe, the king ordered a lofty paliſade to be built of bambou cane, about an hundred feet ſquare; and in the midſt of this were three elephants appointed for combating the tiger. Their heads and a part of their trunk was covered with a kind of armour, like a maſk, which defended that part from the aſſaults of the fierce animal with which they were to engage. As ſoon, ſays this author, as we were arrived at the place, a tiger was brought forth from its den, of a ſize much larger than we had ever ſeen before. It was not at firſt let looſe, but held with chords, ſo that one of the elephants approaching, gave it three or four terrible blows, with its trunk, on the back, with ſuch force, that the tiger was for ſome time ſtunned, and lay without motion, as if it had been dead. However, as ſoon as it was let looſe, and at full liberty, although the firſt blows had greatly abated its fury, it made at the elephant with a loud ſhriek, and aimed at ſeizing his trunk. But the elephant, wrinkling it up with great dexterity, received the tiger on his great teeth, and toſſed it up into the air. [240] This ſo diſcouraged the furious animal, that it no more ventured to approach the elephant, but made ſeveral circuits round the palliſade, often attempting to fly at the ſpectators. Shortly after, three elephants were ſent againſt it, and they continued to ſtrike it ſo terribly with their trunks, that it once more lay for dead; and they would certainly have killed it, had not there been a ſtop put to the combat.

From this account, we may readily judge of the ſtrength of this animal, which, though re⯑duced to captivity, and held by chords, though firſt diſabled, and ſet alone againſt three, yet ventured to continue the engagement, and even that againſt animals covered and protected from its fury.

We may, therefore, conſider the ſpecies of true ſtreaked tiger, as one of the ſcarceſt of animals, and much leſs diffuſed than that of the lion. As to the number of its young, we have [243] no certain accounts; however, it is ſaid, that it brings forth four or five at a time. Although furious at all times, the female, upon this oc⯑caſion, exceeds her uſual rapacity; and, if her young are taken from her, ſhe purſues the ſpoiler with incredible rage; he, to ſave a part, is contented to loſe a part, and drops one of her cubs, with which ſhe immediately returns to her den, and again purſues him; he then drops another, and by the time ſhe has returned with that, he generally eſcapes with the remainder. If ſhe loſes her young entirely, ſhe then be⯑comes deſperate, boldly approaches even the towns themſelves, and commits incredible ſlaughter. The tiger expreſſes its reſentment in the ſame manner with the lion; it moves the muſcles and ſkin of its face, ſhews its teeth, and ſhrieks in the moſt frightful manner. Its note is very different from that of the lion; being rather a ſcream than a roar: and the an⯑cients expreſſed it very well, when they ſaid that, ‘tigrides indomitae rancant rugiunt que leones.’

The ſkin of theſe animals is much eſteemed all over the eaſt, particularly in China; the Mandarines cover their ſeats of juſtice in the public places with it, and convert it into co⯑verings for cuſhions in winter. In Europe, theſe ſkins, though but ſeldom to be met with, [244] are of no great value, thoſe of the panther and the leopard being held in much greater eſti⯑mation. This is all the little benefit we derive from this dreadful animal, of which ſo many falſehoods have been reported; as, that its ſweat was poiſonous, and the hair of its whiſkers more dangerous than an envenomed arrow. But the real miſchiefs which the tiger occaſions while living are ſufficient, without giving ima⯑ginary ones to the parts of its body when dead. In fact, the Indians ſometimes eat its fleſh, and find it neither diſagreeable nor unwholſome.

There is an animal of America, which is uſually called the Red Tiger, but Mr. Buffon calls it the Cougar, which, no doubt, is very different from the tiger of the eaſt. Some, however, have thought proper to rank both together; and I will take leave to follow their example, merely becauſe the cougar is more like a tiger in every thing, except the colour, than any other animal I know, having the head, the body and the neck, ſhaped very much in the ſame manner. Of theſe ſlight differences, words would give but a very faint idea; it will be, therefore, ſufficient to obſerve, that they are both equally ſlender, and are ſmaller where the neck joins the head, than others of the panther kind. There is one at [245] preſent in the Tower; and it ſeemed to me, as well as I could ſee it through the bars, that were it properly ſtreaked and coloured, it would in all things reſemble a ſmall tiger. It is, however, of a very different colour, being of a deep brown, and the tail very long and pointed. It is rather darker on the back; un⯑der the chin it is a little whitiſh, as alſo on the lower part of the belly.

Of all the American animals, this is the moſt formidable and miſchievous; even their pre⯑tended lion not excepted. It is ſaid, there are ſeveral ſorts of them; and, as well as I can re⯑member, I have ſeen one or two here in En⯑gland, both differing from the preſent, in ſize and conformation. It is, indeed, a vain endea⯑vour to attempt to deſcribe all the leſs obvious varieties in the cat kind. If we examine them minutely, we ſhall find the differences multiply upon us ſo much, that, inſtead of an hiſtory, we ſhall only be paid with a catalogue of diſtinctions. From ſuch of them as I have ſeen, within theſe laſt ſix years, I think I could add two animals of this ſpecies, that have not been hitherto deſcribed, and with the names of which he that ſhewed them was utterly unac⯑quainted. But it is a poor ambition, that of being eager to find out new diſtinctions, or [246] adding one noxious animal more, to a liſt that is already ſufficiently numerous. Were the knowing a new variety to open an unknown hiſtory, or in the leaſt to extend our knowledge, the enquiry would be then worth purſuing; but what ſignifies mentioning ſome trifling differ⯑ence, and from thence becoming authors of a new name, when the difference might have ori⯑ginally proceeded either from climate, ſoil, or indiſcriminate copulation?

The cougars are extremely common in South America, and, where the towns border upon the foreſt, theſe make frequent incurſions by night into the midſt of the ſtreets, carrying off fowls, dogs, and other domeſtic creatures. They are, however, but weak and contemptible, com⯑pared to the great tiger, being found unable to cope with a ſingle man. The Negroes and Indians are very dextrous in encountering them; and ſome, even for the ſake of their ſkins, ſeek them in their retreats. The arms in this combat, ſeemingly ſo dangerous, are only a launce of two or three yards long, made of heavy wood, with the point hardened in the fire; and a kind of ſcymitar, of about three quarters of a yard in length. Thus armed, they wait till the tiger makes an aſſault againſt the left hand, which holds the lance, and is [247] wrapped up in a ſhort cloak of baize. Some⯑times the animal, aware of the danger, ſeems to decline the combat; but then its antagoniſt provokes it with a ſlight touch of the launce, in order, while he is defending himſelf, to ſtrike a ſure blow. As ſoon, therefore, as the creature feels the lance, it graſps it with one of its paws, and with the other ſtrikes at the arm which holds it. Then it is that the perſon nimbly aims a blow with his ſcymetar, which he kept concealed, with the other hand, and hamſtrings the creature, which immediately draws back enraged, but inſtantly returns to the charge. But then, receiving another ſtroke, it is totally deprived of the power of motion: and the combatant, killing it at his leiſure, ſtrips the ſkin, cuts off the head, and returns to his companions, diſplaying theſe as the trophies of his victory.

This animal, as we are aſſured, is often more ſucceſsful againſt the crocodile; and it is the only quadrupede in that part of the world, that is not afraid of the engagement. It muſt be no unpleaſant ſight to obſerve, from a place of ſafety, this extraordinary combat, between ani⯑mals ſo terrible and obnoxious to man. Such as have ſeen it, deſcribe it in the following manner. When the tiger, impelled by thirſt, [248] that ſeems continually to conſume it, comes down to the river ſide to drink, the crocodile, which makes no diſtinction in its prey, lifts its head above water to ſeize it; the tiger, not leſs rapacious than the other, and unacquainted with the force of the enemy, boldly ventures to ſeize it, and plunges its claws into the eyes of the crocodile, which is the only vulnerable part of its body: upon this the crocodile inſtantly dives under water, and the tiger goes down with him, for it will ſooner die than let go its hold. In this manner the combat continues for ſome time, until the tiger is drowned, or eſcapes, as is ſometimes the caſe, from its diſabled enemy.

THE PANTHER, AND THE LEOPARD.

WE have hitherto found no great difficulty in diſtinguiſhing one animal from another, each carrying its own peculiar marks, which, in ſome meaſure, ſerve to ſeparate it from all the reſt. But it is otherwiſe, when we come to theſe of the cat kind, that fill up the chaſm between the tiger and the cat. The ſpots with which their ſkins are diverſified, are ſo various, and their ſize ſo equivocal, that it is no eaſy matter to [250] diſtinguiſh the ſpecies, particularly as we have little elſe but the ſpots and the ſize to guide us in making the diſtinction. If we regard the figure and diverſity of the ſpots, we ſhall find many varieties not taken notice of by any natu⯑raliſt; if we are led by the ſize, we ſhall find an imperceptible gradation from the cat to the tiger. It would be vain, therefore, to make as many varieties in theſe animals as we ſee differ⯑ences in ſpots or ſtature; it will be ſufficient to ſeize the moſt general diſtinctions, and leave the reſt to ſuch as are fond of more minute diſquiſitions.

Of all this tribe, whoſe ſkins are ſo beauti⯑fully ſpotted, and whoſe natures are ſo miſ⯑chievous, the Panther may be conſidered as the foremoſt. This animal has been by many naturaliſts miſtaken for the tiger; and, in fact, it approaches next to it in ſize, fierceneſs and beauty. It is diſtinguiſhed, however, by one obvious and leading character; that of being ſpotted, not ſtreaked; for, in this particular, the tiger differs from the panther, the leopard, and almoſt all the inferior ranks of this miſ⯑chievous family.

This animal, which Mr. Buffon calls ſimply the Panther, Linnaeus the Pard, Geſner the Pardalis, and the modern Latins the Leopardus; [251] this animal, I ſay, which goes by too many names, and which the Engliſh have indiſcrimi⯑nately called by the name of the panther or the leopard, may be conſidered as the largeſt of the kind, and is ſpotted in a manner ſomewhat different from thoſe that are ſmaller. As thoſe ſpots, however, make the principal difference between it and the leſſer animals, which it otherwiſe reſembles in ſhape, ſize, diſpoſition, and beauty, I will firſt ſhew thoſe ſlight di⯑ſtinctions, and mention the names each animal has received in conſequence thereof; and then proceed to give their hiſtory together, ſtill marking any peculiarity obſervable in one of the ſpecies, which is not found in the reſt.

The Ounce, or the Onca of Linnaeus, is much leſs than the panther, being not, at moſt, above three feet and a half long: however, its hair is much longer than that of the panther, and its tail ſtill more ſo. The panther of four or five feet long, has a tail but of two feet, or two feet and an half. The ounce, which is but about three feet, has a tail often longer than the reſt of its body. The colour of the ounce is alſo apparently different, being rather more inclining to a cream colour, which is deeper on the back, and whiter towards the belly. The hair on the back is an inch and an half long; that on the belly, two inches and an half, which is much longer than that of the panther. Its ſpots are diſpoſed pretty much in the ſame manner as the large panther, except that on the haunches it is rather marked with ſtripes than with ſpots.

Deſcending to animals of this kind that are ſtill ſmaller, we find the Catamountain, which is the Ocelot of Mr. Buffon, or the Tiger Cat of moſt of thoſe who exhibit it as a ſhow. It is [256] leſs than the ounce, but its robe more beau⯑tifully variegated. It is an American animal, and is about two feet and an half in length, from the noſe to the inſertion of the tail. It is extremely like a cat, except that it is larger and ſlenderer, that its colours are more beau⯑tiful, and its tail rather ſhorter. The fur is of a reddiſh colour, the whole beautified with black ſpots, and ſtreaks of different figures. They are long on the back, and round on the belly and paws. On the ears are black ſtripes, which run acroſs; but, in other reſpects, they entirely reſemble thoſe of a cat. Theſe colours, however, which naturaliſts have taken great pains minutely to deſcribe, are by no means permanent, being differently diſpoſed in differ⯑ent animals of the ſame ſpecies. I remember to have ſeen an animal of this ſize, but whether of this ſpecies I will not pretend to ſay, ſome years ago, that was entirely brown, and was ſaid alſo to have come from America.

From this tribe of the cat kind with ſpotted ſkins and a long tail, we come to another, with ſkins diverſified in like manner, but with a ſhorter tail. The principal of theſe is the Lynx, the name by which the animal was known to Aelian, among the ancients; and to all our old Engliſh writers, among thoſe of a [257] more modern date. This name has been corrupted by the Portugueſe into the word Ouze; and this corruption has been adopted by Ray, who has improperly called this animal the Ounce, after ſome of the fo⯑reign travellers. The firſt ſtriking diſtinction between the lynx, and all thoſe of the panther kind, is in its tail, which is at leaſt half as ſhort in proportion, and black at the ex⯑tremity. Its fur is much longer, the ſpots on the ſkin leſs vivid, and but confuſedly mingled with the reſt. Its ears are much longer, and tipped at the points with a black tuft of hair. The colour round the eyes is white, and the phyſiognomy more placid and gentle. Each hair of this animal is of three different colours: the root is of a greyiſh brown; the middle red, or of an aſh colour; and the ends white. This whiteneſs at the ends takes up ſo ſmall a part of the particular hair, that it does not prevent us from ſeeing the principal colour, which is that of the middle part; ſo that it only makes the ſurface of the body appear as if it was ſilvered over: however, the hair of which the ſpots conſiſt, has no white at the ends, and at the roots it is not quite ſo black as the other part. This animal is not above the ſize of the ounce, but is rather ſtronger built, and it has [258] but twenty-eight teeth; whereas all the reſt of the cat kind already mentioned have thirty.

Another animal of this kind is called the Sia⯑guſh, or, as Mr. Buffon names it, the Caracal. It is a native of the Eaſt-Indies, and reſembles the lynx in ſize, in form, and even in the ſin⯑gularity of being tufted at the tips of the ears. However, the ſiaguſh differs in not being mottled as the lynx is; its fur, or rather hair, is rougher and ſhorter; its tail is rather longer; its muzzle more lengthened; its phyſiognomy more fierce, and its nature more ſavage.

The third, and laſt animal that need be men⯑tioned of this kind, is that which Mr. Buffon calls the Serval, and which he has firſt deſcribed. It is a native of Malabar, reſembling the pan⯑ther in its ſpots, but the lynx in the ſhortneſs of its tail, in its ſize, and in its ſtrong built form.

As the ounce differs from theſe in figure and ſize, ſo alſo it ſeems to differ in diſpoſition, being more mild, tractable, and tame. Theſe [260] we frequently ſee as harmleſs and innocent as cats; and there is one at preſent in the Tower with which the keeper plays without the ſmalleſt apprehenſion. I own I was not a little uneaſy, at firſt, for the man, when he put his hand through the bars, and called the animal by its name; but was a good deal ſurprized to ſee the creature, which one might ſuppoſe irritated by long confinement, come gently up to him, ſtroak his hand with its face, in the manner of a cat, and teſtify the utmoſt gentleneſs of diſpoſition. The ounce, therefore, is remarkable for being eaſily tamed; and, in fact, it is employed all over the eaſt for the purpoſes of hunting. Not, in⯑deed, but that panthers themſelves are ſome⯑times uſed for this purpoſe, but they are never thoroughly ſubdued like the former, being uſually brought to the field in a carriage, and kept chained and caged until they are ſhewn the gazelle, or the leveret, which is their prey. This they purſue rather by three or four great ſprings than by running. If they ſeize it by this ſudden effort, it finds no mercy; but if it eſcapes from their firſt effort, they never at⯑tempt to purſue, and appear quite diſappointed and confounded at their miſchance. It ſome⯑times happens that they are ſo much enraged at it, that they attack even their employer, and [261] his only reſource to avoid their fury is to throw them ſome ſmall pieces of meat, which he has brought with him for that purpoſe.

The ounce, however, is not ſo dangerous; and is treated with more confidence and fami⯑liarity. It is uſually brought to the field hood⯑winked behind one of the horſemen. When the game appears, the ounce is inſtantly un⯑covered, and ſhewn where it lies; upon which the fierce creature darts like an arrow to the place, and ſeizes it at once, or, miſſing it, re⯑mains motionleſs in the place. It would be vain to attempt retrieving its diſgrace by con⯑tinuing the purſuit; for, although it bounds with greater agility than moſt other animals, yet it is ſlow and aukward in running, and has no means of finding the animal it purſues by the ſmell, as is common among thoſe of the dog kind. From hence, therefore, it appears how much ſuperior the European method of hunting is to that of the Aſiatic; ſince what⯑ever amuſement this exerciſe affords muſt ariſe from the continuance of the chace, and from the fluctuation of doubt and expectation, which raiſe and depreſs the purſuers by turns. All this an Aſiatic hunter is deprived of; and his greateſt pleaſure can ſcarcely be more than what among us is called courſing, in which the [262] dog purſues the animal, and keeps it conſtantly in view.

But it muſt not be ſuppoſed that it is from choice the Aſiatics uſe this method of chace; for, no doubt, were dogs ſerviceable among them as they are in Europe, they would be employed for the ſame purpoſes. But the fact is, that the extreme heat of the tropical climates produces ſuch univerſal putrefaction, and ſends up ſuch various and powerful ſcents, that dogs are at firſt bewildered in the chace, and at laſt come to loſe the delicacy of their ſcent entirely. They are, therefore, but little uſed in thoſe warm countries; and what could they avail in places where almoſt every other animal of the foreſt is ſtronger and more rapacious? The lion, the tiger, the panther, and the ounce, are all na⯑tural enemies to the dog, and attack him where⯑ever he appears with ungovernable fury. The breed, therefore, in thoſe places, would quickly be deſtroyed; ſo that they are obliged to have recourſe to thoſe animals which are more fitted to ſerve them; and thus convert the ounce to thoſe purpoſes for which dogs are employed in Europe.

The Catamountain, or Ocelot, is one of the fierceſt and, for its ſize, one of the moſt de⯑ſtructive animals in the world. It is, as was [263] before obſerved, a native of South-America, and by no means capable of the ſame education as the ounce, which it more approaches in ſize than in diſpoſition. Two of theſe, from whom Mr. Buffon has taken his deſcription, were brought over from Carthagena, and having been taken from the dam when very young, were afterwards ſuckled by a bitch. But, before they were three months old, they had ſtrength and ingratitude ſufficient to kill and devour their nurſe. Their ſucceeding fierceneſs and malignity ſeemed to correſpond with their firſt efforts; for no arts could tame or ſoften their natures; and while they continued in their cages, they ſtill teſtified an unceaſing diſpo⯑ſition for ſlaughter. When their food was given them, the male always ſerved himſelf before the female ventured to touch a bit; and it was not till he was ſatisfied that the other began. In their ſavage ſtate, theſe animals are ſtill more deſtructive; having great ſtrength and agility, they very eaſily find and overtake their prey, which they purſue among the tops of the trees as well as on the ground; but what renders them ſtill more miſchievous is, their unceaſing ap⯑petite rather for the blood than the fleſh of their prey. They ſuck this with the greateſt avidity, but frequently leave the carcaſe otherwiſe un⯑touched, [264] in order to purſue other animals for the blood in like manner. They generally continue on the tops of trees, like our wild cats; where they make their neſt, and often bring forth their young. When they ſpy any animal they can maſter, and there are but few in the foreſt but what are inferior, they dart down upon it with inevitable exactneſs.

The whole tribe of animals of the panther kind, with long tails, are chiefly inhabitants, as was ſaid, of the torrid zone; but thoſe of the ſhort tailed kind, and particularly the lynx, is principally found in the cold countries that are bordering on the pole. The lynx is chiefly to be met with in the north of Germany, Li⯑thuania, Muſcovy, Siberia, and North Ame⯑rica. Thoſe of the new continent, however, are rather ſmaller than in Europe, as is the caſe with almoſt all their quadrupedes; they are ſomewhat whiter alſo, but in other reſpects there is ſcarce any difference to be found among them^*. This animal has been called by ſome Lupus Cervarius, or a creature compounded be⯑tween a wolf and a ſtag; but for what reaſon is hard to gueſs; it no way reſembles either in ſhape or in diſpoſition. In its nature, it exactly reſembles the cat, except that, being bigger and [265] nearly two feet long, it is bolder and fiercer. Like the cat, it climbs trees, and ſeeks its prey by ſurprize; like the cat, it is delicate and cleanly, covering its urine with its paws; and it reſembles the wolf in nothing except its cry, which often deceives the hunters, and induces them to think they hear a wolf and not a lynx. This animal alſo, is rather more delicate than the cat; and, after having once feaſted upon its prey, will never return to it again, but hunts the woods for another. From hence may have ariſen the common report of the lynx having, of all other quadrupedes, the ſhorteſt memory. This, however, is not the only idle ſtory that has been propagated of it: as of its ſeeing with ſuch per⯑ſpicuity as to perceive objects through walls and mountains; as of having its urine of ſuch a quality, as to harden, and become a precious ſtone; with ſeveral others, propagated by igno⯑rance or impoſture.

The Siaguſh and the Serval are both ſo like all the reſt of the cat kind in diſpoſition, that it is but repeating the ſame account once more to give their diſtinct hiſtory. As the lynx is found only in cold countries, ſo the ſiaguſh is to be met with only in the warm tropical climates. It is uſed, in the ſame manner as the ounce, for hunting; but it ſeems to have a property which [266] the other has not; namely, that of being able to overtake its prey by purſuing it. Whether this is performed by having a finer ſcent than the former, or greater ſwiftneſs, we are not in⯑formed; being only told that when it overtakes either the gazelle or the antelope, it leaps upon their backs, and, getting forward to their ſhoulders, ſcratches their eyes out, by which means they become an eaſy prey to the hunters. Some have called this animal the lion's pro⯑vider; and it is ſaid that when it calls him to purſue his prey, its voice very much reſembles that of one man calling another^*. From hence we may conjecture that this animal purſues its prey in full cry, and that the lion only follows to partake or ſeize the ſpoil. The ſame ac⯑count is given alſo of the jackal; and very pro⯑bably it may be true, not only of theſe animals, but of ſome others, ſince it is natural enough to ſuppoſe that the lion will purſue whenever he is taught to diſcover his prey.

We had one of theſe animals a few years ago ſent over from the Eaſt-Indies, but it was not able to endure the change of climate, and it died in a very ſhort time after it was brought to the Tower. Whether conſumed by diſeaſe or not I cannot tell, but it ſeemed to me much [267] ſlenderer than the cat or the lynx, and its ears were much longer; however, it is a very ſtrong creature for its ſize, and has been known to kill a large dog in ſingle combat^*: never⯑theleſs, it is, like all of the cat kind except the lion, remarkable for its cowardice, and will never, except in caſes of neceſſity, attack an animal that is its equal in ſtrength or activity. For this reaſon, when brought into the field, and put upon a ſervice of danger, it obſtinately refuſes, and is alert only in the purſuit of animals that are too feeble for reſiſtance, or too timid to exert their ſtrength.

From what has been ſaid of this rapacious tribe, we perceive a ſimilitude in the manners and diſpoſitions of them all, from the lion to the cat. The ſimilitude of their internal con⯑formation, is ſtill more exact; the ſhortneſs of their inteſtines, the number of their teeth, and the ſtructure of their paws. The firſt of this claſs is the Lion, diſtinguiſhable from all the reſt by his ſtrength, his magnitude, and his mane. The ſecond is the Tiger, rather longer than the lion, but not ſo tall, and known by the ſtreaks and the vivid beauty of its robe; including alſo the American tiger or cougar; diſtin⯑guiſhable by its ſize, next that of the tiger, [268] its tawny colour, and its ſpots. The third is the Pan⯑ther and the Leopard. The four this the Ounce, not ſo large as any of the former, ſpotted like them, but diſtinguiſhable by the cream coloured ground of its hair, and the great length of its tail, being above the length of its body. The fifth is the Catamountain or Tiger cat, leſs than the ounce, but differing particularly in having a ſhorter tail, and being ſtreaked down the back like a tiger. The ſixth is the ſhort tailed kind; namely, the Lynx, of the ſize of the former, but with a ſhort tail, ſtreaked, and the tips of its ears tufted with black. The ſeventh is the Syaguſh, differing from the lynx in not being mottled like it, in not being ſo large, and in having the ears longer, though tipped with black, as before. The eighth is the Serval, reſembling the lynx in its form, and the ſhortneſs of its tail; ſtreaked alſo like it, but not having the tips of its ears tufted. Laſtly, the Cat, wild and tame, with all its varieties; all leſs than any of the former, but, like them, equally inſidious, rapacious, and cruel.

This whole race may be conſidered as the moſt formidable enemy of mankind; there are others indeed ſtronger, but they are gentle, and never offer injury till injured: there are others [269] more numerous, but they are more feeble, and rather look for ſafety by hiding from man, than oppoſing him. Theſe are the only qua⯑drupedes that make good their ground againſt him; and which may be ſaid to keep ſome kingdoms of the earth in their own poſſeſſion. How many extenſive countries are there in Africa, where the wild beaſts are ſo numerous, that man is deterred from living amongſt them; reluctantly giving up to the lion and the leo⯑pard, extenſive tracts, that ſeem formed only for his delight and convenience!

THE WOLF.

THE dog and the wolf are ſo very much alike internally, that the moſt expert anatomiſts can ſcarce perceive the difference; and it may be aſſerted alſo, that, externally, ſome dogs more nearly reſemble the wolf than they do each other. It was this ſtrong ſimilitude that firſt led ſome naturaliſts to conſider them as the ſame animal, and to look upon the wolf as the dog in its ſtate of ſavage freedom: however, [306] this opinion is entertained no longer; the na⯑tural antipathy thoſe two animals bear to each other; the longer time which the wolf goes with young than the dog, the one going over an hundred days, and the other not quite ſixty; the longer period of life in the former than the latter, the wolf living twenty years, the dog not fifteen; all ſufficiently point out a di⯑ſtinction, and draw a line that muſt for ever keep them aſunder.

The wolf, from the tip of the noſe, to the inſertion of the tail, is about three feet ſeven inches long, and about two feet five inches high; which ſhews him to be larger than our great breed of maſtiffs, which are ſeldom found to be above three feet by two. His colour is a mixture of black, brown, and grey, extremely rough and hard, but mixed towards the roots with a kind of aſh coloured fur. In comparing him to any of our well known breed of dogs, the great Dane, or mongrel greyhound, for in⯑ſtance, he will appear to have the legs ſhorter, the head larger, the muzzle thicker, the eyes ſmaller and more ſeparated from each other, and the ears ſhorter and ſtraiter. He appears, in every reſpect, ſtronger than the dog; and the length of his hair contributes ſtill more to his robuſt appearance. The feature which prin⯑cipally [307] diſtinguiſhes the viſage of the wolf from that of the dog, is the eye, which opens ſlant⯑ingly upwards, in the ſame direction with the noſe; whereas, in the dog, it opens more at right angles with the noſe, as in man. The tail alſo, in this animal, is long and buſhy; and he carries it rather more between his hind legs than the dog is ſeen to do. The colour of the eye-balls in the wolf are of a fiery green, and give his viſage a fierce and formidable air, which his natural diſpoſition does by no means contradict^*.

The wolf is one of thoſe animals whoſe ap⯑petite for animal food is the moſt vehement; and whoſe means of ſatisfying this appetite are the moſt various. Nature has furniſhed him with ſtrength, cunning, agility, and all thoſe requiſites which fit an animal for purſuing, overtaking, and conquering its prey; and yet, with all theſe, the wolf moſt frequently dies of hunger, for he is the declared enemy of man. Being long proſcribed, and a reward offered for his head, he is obliged to fly from human habitations, and to live in the foreſt, where the few wild animals to be found there, eſcape him [308] either by their ſwiftneſs or their art; or are ſup⯑plied in too ſmall a proportion to ſatisfy his rapacity. He is naturally dull and cowardly; but frequently diſappointed, and as often re⯑duced to the verge of famine, he becomes in⯑genious from want, and courageous from ne⯑ceſſity. When preſſed with hunger, he braves danger, and comes to attack thoſe animals which are under the protection of man, parti⯑cularly ſuch as he can readily carry away, lambs, ſheep, or even dogs themſelves, for all animal food comes then equally agreeable. When this excurſion has ſucceeded, he often returns to the charge, until having been wounded or hard preſſed by the dogs, or the ſhepherds, he hides himſelf by day in the thickeſt coverts, and only ventures out at night; he then ſallies forth over the country, keeps peering round the villages, carries off ſuch animals as are not under protection, at⯑tacks the ſheep-folds, ſcratches up and under⯑mines the threſholds of doors where they are houſed, enters furious, and deſtroys all before he begins to ſix upon and carry off his prey. When theſe ſallies do not ſucceed, he then re⯑turns to the thickeſt part of the foreſt, content to purſue thoſe ſmaller animals, which, even when taken, afford him but a ſcanty ſupply. [309] He there goes regularly to work, follows by the ſcent, opens to the view, ſtill keeps follow⯑ing, hopeleſs himſelf of overtaking the prey, but expecting that ſome other wolf will come into his aſſiſtance, and then content to ſhare the ſpoil. At laſt, when his neceſſities are very urgent, he boldly faces certain deſtruction; he attacks women and children, and ſometimes ventures even to fall upon men, becomes furious by his continual agitations, and ends his life in madneſs.

The wolf, as well externally as internally, ſo nearly reſembles the dog, that he ſeems mo⯑delled upon the ſame plan; and yet he only offers the reverſe of the medal. If his form be like, his nature is ſo different, that he only preſerves the ill qualities of the dog, without any of his good ones. Indeed, they are ſo different in their diſpoſitions, that no two animals can have a more perfect antipathy to each other. A young dog ſhudders at the ſight of a wolf; he even ſhuns his ſcent, which, though unknown, is ſo repugnant to his nature, that he comes trembling to take protection near his maſter. A dog who is ſtronger, and who knows his ſtrength, briſtles up at the ſight, teſtifies his animoſity, attacks him with courage, endeavours to put him to ſlight, and does all in his power [310] to rid himſelf of a preſence that is hateful to him. They never meet without either flying or fight⯑ing; fighting for life and death, and without mercy on either ſide. If the wolf is the ſtronger, he tears and devours his prey: the dog, on the contrary, is more generous, and contents himſelf with his victory; he does not ſeem to think that ‘the body of a dead enemy ſmells well;’ he leaves him where he falls, to ſerve as food for birds of prey, or for other wolves, ſince they devour each other; and when one wolf happens to be deſperately wounded, the reſt track him by his blood, and are ſure to ſhew him no mercy.

The dog, even in his ſavage ſtate, is not cruel; he is eaſily tamed, and continues firmly attached to his maſter. The wolf, when taken young, becomes tame, but never has an at⯑tachment; nature is ſtronger in him than edu⯑cation; he reſumes, with age, his natural diſ⯑poſitions, and returns, as ſoon as he can, to the woods from whence he was taken. Dogs, even of the dulleſt kinds, ſeek the company of other animals; they are naturally diſpoſed to follow and accompany other creatures beſide them⯑ſelves; and even by inſtinct, without any edu⯑cation, take to the care of flocks and herds. The wolf, on the contrary, is the enemy of all [311] ſociety; he does not even keep much company with thoſe of his kind. When they are ſeen in packs together, it is not to be conſidered as a peaceful ſociety, but a combination for war: they teſtify their hoſtile intentions by their loud howlings, and by their fierceneſs diſcover a pro⯑ject for attacking ſome great animal, ſuch as a ſtag or a bull, or to deſtroy ſome more redoubt⯑able watch-dog. The inſtant their military ex⯑pedition is completed, their ſociety is at an end; they then part, and each returns in ſilence to his ſolitary retreat. There is not even any ſtrong attachments between the male and female; they ſeek each other only once a year, and re⯑main but a few days together: they always couple in winter; at which time ſeveral males are ſeen following one female, and this aſſociation is ſtill more bloody than the former: they diſ⯑pute moſt cruelly, growl, bark, fight, and tear each other; and it ſometimes happens that the majority kill the wolf which has been chiefly preferred by the female. It is uſual for the ſhe wolf to fly from them all with him ſhe has choſen; and watches this opportunity when the reſt are aſleep.

The ſeaſon for coupling does not continue above twelve or fifteen days; and uſually com⯑mences among the oldeſt, thoſe which are [312] young being later in their deſires. The males have no fixed time for engendering; they paſs from one female to the other, beginning at the end of December, and ending at the latter end of February. The time of pregnancy is about three months and an half; and the young wolves are found from the latter end of April to the beginning of July. The long continuance of the wolf's pregnancy is ſufficient to make a diſtinction between it and the dog; did not alſo the fiery fierceneſs of the eyes, the howl inſtead of barking, and the greater duration of its life, leave no doubt of its being an animal of its own particular ſpecies. In other reſpects, however, they are entirely alike; the wolf couples exactly like the dog, the parts are formed in the ſame manner, and their ſeparation hindered by the ſame cauſe. When the ſhe-wolves are near their time of bringing forth, they ſeek ſome very tufted ſpot, in the thickeſt part of the fo⯑reſt; in the middle of this they make a ſmall opening, cutting away the thorns and briars with their teeth, and afterwards carry thither a great quantity of moſs, which they form into a bed for their young ones. They generally bring forth five or ſix, and ſometimes even to nine at a litter. The cubs are brought forth, like thoſe of the bitch, with the eyes cloſed; [313] the dam ſuckles them for ſome weeks, and teaches them betimes to eat fleſh, which ſhe prepares for them, by chewing it firſt herſelf. Some time after ſhe brings them ſtronger food, hares, partridges, and birds yet alive. The young wolves begin by playing with them, and end by killing them. The dam then ſtrips them of their feathers, tears them in pieces, and gives to each of them a ſhare. They do not leave the den where they have been littered, till they are ſix weeks, or two months old. They then follow the old one, who leads them to drink to the trunk of ſome old tree where the water has ſettled, or at ſome pool in the neigh⯑bourhood. If ſhe apprehends any danger, ſhe inſtantly conceals them in the firſt convenient place, or brings them back to their former retreat. In this manner they follow her for ſome months; when they are attacked, ſhe de⯑fends them with all her ſtrength, and more than uſual ferocity. Although, at other times, more timorous than the male, at that ſeaſon ſhe becomes bold and fearleſs; willing perhaps to teach the young ones future courage by her own example. It is not till they are about ten or twelve months old, and until they have ſhed their firſt teeth, and completed the new, that ſhe thinks them in a capacity to ſhift for them⯑ſelves. [314] Then when they have acquired arms from nature, and have learned induſtry and courage from her example, ſhe declines all future care of them, being again engaged in bringing up a new progeny.

The males and females are in a capacity to engender when two years old. It is probable that the females of this ſpecies, as well as of moſt others, are ſooner completed than the males; but this is certain, that they never deſire to copulate until their ſecond winter; from whence we may ſuppoſe that they live fifteen or twenty years; for allowing three years for their complete growth, this multiplied by ſeven gives them a life of twenty-one; moſt animals, as has been obſerved, living about ſeven times the number of years which they take to come to perfection. Of this, however, there is as yet no certainty, no more than of what huntſ⯑men aſſert, that in all the litters there are more males than females. From them alſo we learn that there are ſome of the males who attach themſelves to the female, who accompany her during her geſtation, until the time of bringing forth, when ſhe hides the place of her retreat from the male, leſt he ſhould devour her cubs. But after this, when they are brought forth, that the then takes the ſame care of them as the [315] female, carries them proviſions, and, if the dam ſhould happen to be killed, rears them up in her ſtead.

The wolf grows grey as he grows old, and his teeth wear, like thoſe of moſt other ani⯑mals, by uſing. He ſleeps when his belly is full, or when he is fatigued, rather by day than night; and always, like the dog, is very eaſily waked. He drinks frequently; and in times of drought, when there is no water to be found in the trunks of old trees, or in the pools about the foreſt, he comes often, in the day, down to the brooks, or the lakes in the plain. Although very voracious, he ſupports hunger for a long time, and often lives four or five days without food, provided he be ſupplied with water.

The wolf has great ſtrength, particularly in his fore-parts, in the muſcles of his neck and his jaws. He carries off a ſheep in his mouth without letting it touch the ground, and runs with it much ſwifter than the ſhepherds who purſue him; ſo that nothing but the dogs can overtake, and oblige him to quit his prey. He bites cruelly, and always with greater vehe⯑mence in proportion as he his leaſt reſiſted; for he uſes precautions with ſuch animals as attempt to ſtand upon the defenſive. He is ever cow⯑ardly, [316] and never fights but when under a ne⯑ceſſity of ſatisfying hunger, or making good his retreat. When he is wounded by a bullet, he is heard to cry out; and yet, when ſur⯑rounded by the peaſants, and attacked with clubs, he never howls as the dog under correc⯑tion, but defends himſelf in ſilence, and dies as hard as he lived.

His nature is, in fact, more ſavage than that of the dog; he has leſs ſenſibility and greater ſtrength. He travels, runs, and keeps plun⯑dering for whole days and nights together. He is in a manner indefatigable; and perhaps of all animals he is the moſt difficult to be hunted down. The dog is good natured and coura⯑geous; the wolf, though ſavage, is ever fearful. If he happens to be caught in a pit-fall, he is for ſome time ſo frightened and aſtoniſhed, that he may be killed without offering to reſiſt, or taken alive without much danger. At that inſtant, one may clap a collar round his neck, muzzle him, and drag him along, without his ever giving the leaſt ſigns of anger or reſent⯑ment. At all other times he has his ſenſes in great perfection; his eye, his car, and parti⯑cularly his ſenſe of ſmelling, which is even ſu⯑perior to the two former. He ſmells a carcaſe at more than a league's diſtance; he alſo per⯑ceives [317] living animals a great way off, and fol⯑lows them a long time upon the ſcent. When⯑ever he leaves the wood, he always takes care to go out againſt the wind. When juſt come to its extremity, he ſtops to examine, by his ſmell, on all ſides, the emanations that may come either from his enemy or his prey, which he very nicely diſtinguiſhes. He prefers thoſe animals which he kills himſelf to thoſe he finds dead; and yet he does not diſdain theſe when no better is to be had. He is particularly fond of human fleſh; and perhaps, if he were ſuf⯑ficiently powerful, he would eat no other. Wolves have been ſeen following armies, and arriving in numbers upon the field of battle, where they devoured ſuch dead bodies as were left upon the field, or but negligently interred. Theſe, when once accuſtomed to human fleſh, ever after ſeek particularly to attack mankind, and chuſe to fall upon the ſhepherd rather than his flock. We have had a late inſtance of two or three of theſe keeping a whole province, for more than a month, in a continual alarm.

It ſometimes happens that a whole country is called out to extirpate theſe moſt dangerous invaders. The hunting the wolf is a favourite diverſion among the great of ſome countries; and it muſt be confeſſed it ſeems to be the moſt [318] uſeful of any. Theſe animals are diſtinguiſhed by the huntſmen into the young wolf, the old wolf, and the great wolf. They are known by the prints of their feet; the older the wolf, the larger the track he leaves. That of the female is narrower and longer than that of the male. It is neceſſary to have a very good ſtarter to put up the wolf; and it is even convenient to uſe every art to encourage him in his purſuit; for all dogs have a natural repugnance againſt this animal, and are but cold in their endeavours. When the wolf is once put up, it is then proper to have grey-hounds to let fly at him, in leaſhes, one after the other. The firſt leaſh is ſent after him in the beginning, ſeconded by a man on horſe-back; the ſecond are let looſe about half a mile farther, and the third when the reſt of the dogs come up with, and begin to bait him. He for a long time keeps them off, ſtands his ground, threatens them on all ſides, and often gets away; but uſually the hunters arriving come in aid of the dog, and help to diſpatch him with their cutlaſſes. When the animal is killed, the dogs teſtify no appetite to enjoy their victory, but leave him where he falls, a frightful ſpectacle, and even in death hideous.

The wolf is ſometimes alſo hunted with har⯑riers, but as he always goes ſtraight forward, [319] and often holds his ſpeed for a whole day toge⯑ther, this kind of chace is tedious and diſagree⯑able, at leaſt if the harriers are not aſſiſted by grey hounds, who may harraſs him at every view. Several other arts have been alſo uſed to take and deſtroy this noxious animal. He is ſur⯑rounded and wounded by men and large houſe-dogs; he is ſecured in traps; he is poiſoned by carcaſes prepared and placed for that purpoſe, and is caught in pit-falls. ‘"Geſner tells us of a friar, a woman, and a wolf, being taken in one of theſe, all in the ſame night. The woman loſt her ſenſes with the fright, the friar his re⯑putation, and the wolf his life."’ All theſe diſaſters, however, do not prevent this animal's multiplying in great numbers, particularly in countries where the woods are plenty. France, Spain, and Italy, are great infeſted with them; but England, Ireland, and Scotland, are hap⯑pily ſet free.

King Edgar is ſaid to be the firſt who at⯑tempted to rid this kingdom of ſuch diſagree⯑able inmates, by commuting the puniſhment for certain crimes into the acceptance of a number of wolf's tongues from each criminal^*. However, ſome centuries after, theſe animals were again encreaſed to ſuch a degree, as to become the [320] object of royal attention; accordingly Edward the Firſt iſſued out his mandate to one Peter Corbet to ſuperintend and aſſiſt in the deſtruc⯑tion of them. They are ſaid to have infeſted Ireland long after they were extirpated in Eng⯑land; however, the oldeſt men in that country remember nothing of theſe animals; and it is probable that there have been none there for more than a century paſt. Scotland alſo is to⯑tally free.

The colour of this animal differs according to the different climates where it is bred, and often changes even in the ſame country. Beſide the common wolves, which are found in France and Germany, there are others with thicker hair, inclining to yellow. Theſe are more ſa⯑vage and leſs noxious than the former, neither approaching the flocks nor habitations, and living rather by the chace than rapine. In the northern climates they are found ſome quite black, and ſome white all over. The former are larger and ſtronger than thoſe of any other kinds.

The ſpecies is very much diffuſed in every part of the world, being found in Aſia, Africa, and in America, as well as Europe. The wolves of Senegal reſemble thoſe of France, except that they are larger and much fiercer than thoſe [321] of Europe. Thoſe of Egypt are ſmaller than thoſe of Greece. In the eaſt, the wolf is trained up for a ſhew, being taught to dance and play tricks; and one of theſe thus educated often ſells for four or five hundred crowns.

[323]However, this animal may be uſeful in North-America; the wolf of Europe is a very noxious animal, and ſcarce any thing belonging to him is good, except his ſkin. Of this the furrier's make a covering that is warm and durable, though coarſe and unſightly. His fleſh is very indifferent, and ſeems to be diſliked by all other animals, no other creature being known to eat the wolf's fleſh except the wolf himſelf. He breathes a moſt foetid vapour from his jaws, as his food is indiſcriminate, often putrid, and ſeldom cleanly. In ſhort, every way offenſive, a ſavage aſpect, a frightful howl, an inſupportable odour, a perverſe diſpoſition, fierce habits, he is hateful while living, and uſeleſs when dead.

THE FOX.

THE Fox very exactly reſembles the wolf and the dog internally; and, although he differs greatly from both in ſize and carriage, yet when we come to examine his ſhapes minutely, there will appear to be very little difference in the deſcription. Were, for inſtance, a painter to draw from a natural hiſtorian's exacteſt de⯑ſcription the figure of a dog, a wolf, and a fox, without having ever ſeen either, he would be very apt to confound all theſe animals together; or rather he would be unable to catch thoſe pe⯑culiar [324] out-lines that no deſcription can ſupply. Words will never give any perſon an exact idea of forms any way irregular; for although they be extremely juſt and preciſe, yet the number⯑leſs diſcriminations to be attended to will con⯑found each other, and we ſhall no more conceive the preciſe form than we ſhould be able to tell when one pebble more was added or taken away from a thouſand. To conceive, therefore, how the fox differs in form from the wolf or the dog, it is neceſſary to ſee all three, or at leaſt to ſupply the defects of deſcription by ex⯑amining the difference in a print.

The fox is of a ſlenderer make than the wolf, and not near ſo large; for as the former is above three feet and a half long, ſo the other is not above two feet three inches. The tail of the fox alſo is longer in proportion and more buſhy; its noſe is ſmaller and approaching more nearly to that of the grey-hound, and its hair ſofter. On the other hand, it differs from the dog in having its eyes obliquely ſituated, like thoſe of the wolf; its ears are directed alſo in the ſame manner as thoſe of the wolf, and its head is equally large in proportion to its ſize. It differs ſtill more from the dog in its ſtrong offenſive ſmell, which is peculiar to the ſpecies, and often the cauſe of their death. However, ſome are igno⯑rantly of opinion that it will keep off infectious [325] diſeaſes, and they preſerve this animal near their habitations for that very purpoſe.

The fox has ſince the beginning been famous for his cunning and his arts, and he partly merits his reputation^*. Without attempting to op⯑poſe either the dogs or the ſhepherds, without attacking the flock, or alarming the village, he finds an eaſier way to ſubſiſt, and gains by his addreſs what is denied to his ſtrength or courage. Patient and prudent, he waits the opportunity for depredation, and varies his con⯑duct with every occaſion. His whole ſtudy is his preſervation; although nearly as indefati⯑gable, and actually more ſwift than the wolf, he does not entirely truſt to either, but makes himſelf an aſylum, to which he retires in caſe of neceſſity; where he ſhelters himſelf from dan⯑ger, and brings up his young.

As among men, thoſe who lead a domeſtic life are more civilized and more endued with wiſdom than thoſe who wander from place to place, ſo, in the inferior ranks of animated na⯑ture, the taking poſſeſſion of an home ſuppoſes a degree of inſtinct which others are without^†. The choice of the ſituation for this domicil, the art of making it convenient, of hiding its entrance, and ſecuring it againſt more powerful [326] animals, are all ſo many marks of ſuperior ſkill and induſtry. The fox is furniſhed with both, and turns them to his advantage. He generally keeps his kennel at the edge of the wood, and yet within an eaſy journey of ſome neighbouring cottage. From thence he liſtens to the crowing of the cock, and the cackling of the domeſtic fowls. He ſcents them at a diſtance; he ſeizes his opportunity, conceals his approaches, creeps ſlyly along, makes the attack, and ſeldom re⯑turns without his booty. If he be able to get into the yard, he begins by levelling all the poultry without remorſe, and carrying off a part of the ſpoil, hides it at ſome convenient diſtance, and again returns to the charge. Taking off another fowl in the ſame manner, he hides that alſo, but not in the ſame place; and this he practiſes for ſeveral times together, until the approach of day, or the noiſe of the domeſtics, give him warning to retire. The ſame arts are practiſed when he finds birds en⯑tangled in ſpringes laid for them by the fowler; the fox takes care to be beforehand, very ex⯑pertly takes the bird out of the ſnare, hides it for three or four days, and knows very ex⯑actly when and where to return to avail himſelf of hidden treaſure. He is equally alert in ſeiz⯑ing the young hares and rabbits, before they [327] have ſtrength enough to eſcape him, and when the old ones are wounded and fatigued he is ſure to come upon them in their moments of diſtreſs, and to ſhew them no mercy. In the ſame manner he finds out birds neſts, ſeizes the partridge and the quail while ſitting, and de⯑ſtroys a large quantity of game. The wolf is moſt hurtful to the peaſant, but the fox to the gentleman. In ſhort, nothing that can be eaten ſeems to come amiſs; rats, mice, ſerpents, toads, and lizards. He will, when urged by hunger, eat carrots and inſects; and thoſe that live near the ſea-coaſts will, for want of other food, eat crabs, ſhrimps, and ſhell fiſh. The hedge-hog in vain rolls itſelf up into a ball to oppoſe him, this determined glutton teizes it until it is obliged to appear uncovered, and then he devours it. The waſp and the wild bee are attacked with equal ſucceſs. Although at firſt they fly out upon their invader, and ac⯑tually oblige him to retire, this is but for a few minutes, until he has rolled himſelf upon the ground, and thus cruſhed ſuch as ſtick to his ſkin; he then returns to the charge, and at laſt, by perſeverance, obliges them to abandon their combs; which he greedily devours, both wax and honey.

The chace of the fox requires leſs preparation [328] than that of the wolf, and it is alſo more plea⯑ſant and amuſing. As dogs have a natural re⯑pugnance to purſue the wolf, ſo they are equally alert in following the fox; which chace they prefer even to that of the hare or the buck. The huntſmen, as upon other occaſions, have their cant terms for every part of this chace. The fox the firſt year is called a cub; the ſecond, a fox; and the third, an old fox; his tail is called the bruſh or drag, and his excrement the billiting. He is uſually purſued by a large kind of harrier or hound, aſſiſted by tarriers, or a ſmaller breed, that follow him into his kennel, and at⯑tack him there. The inſtant he perceives him⯑ſelf purſued, he makes to his kennel, and takes refuge at the bottom of it, where for a while he loſes the cry of his enemies; but the whole pack coming to the mouth, redouble their ve⯑hemence and rage, and the little tarrier boldly ventures in. It often happens that the kennel is made under a rock, or among the roots of old trees; and in ſuch caſes the fox cannot be dug out, nor is the tarrier able to contend with him at the bottom of his hole. By this con⯑trivance he continues ſecure; but when he can be dug out, the uſual way is to carry him in a bag to ſome open country, and there ſet him looſe before the hounds. The hounds and the [329] men follow, barking and ſhouting wherever he runs; and the body being ſtrongly employed, the mind has not time to make any re⯑flection on the futility of the purſuit. What adds to this entertainment is the ſtrong ſcent which the fox leaves, that always keeps up a full cry; although as his ſcent is ſtronger than that of the hare, it is much ſooner evaporated. His ſhifts to eſcape when all retreat is cut off to his kennel are various and ſurprizing. He always chuſes the moſt woody country, and takes thoſe paths that are moſt embarraſſed with thorns and briars. He does not double, nor uſe the unavailing ſhifts of the hare; but flies in a direct line before the hounds, though at no very great diſtance; manages his ſtrength; takes to the low and plaſhy grounds, where the ſcent will be leſs apt to lie; and at laſt, when overtaken, he defends himſelf with deſperate obſtinacy, and fights in ſilence to the very laſt gaſp.

The fox, though reſembling the dog in many reſpects, is nevertheleſs very diſtinct in his na⯑ture, refuſing to engender with it; and though not teſtifying the antipathy of the wolf, yet diſcovering nothing more than indifference. This animal alſo brings forth fewer at a time than the dog, and that but once a year. Its [330] litter is generally from four to ſix, and ſeldom leſs than three. The female goes with young about ſix weeks, and ſeldom ſtirs out while pregnant, but makes a bed for her young, and takes every precaution to prepare for their pro⯑duction. When ſhe finds the place of their retreat diſcovered, and that her young have been diſturbed during her abſence, ſhe removes them one after the other in her mouth, and en⯑deavours to find them out a place of better ſe⯑curity. A remarkable inſtance of this animal's parental affection happened while I was writing this hiſtory, in the county of Eſſex. A ſhe-fox that had, as it ſhould ſeem, but one cub, was unkennelled by a gentleman's hounds, near Chelmsford, and hotly purſued. In ſuch a caſe, when her own life was in imminent peril, one would think it was not a time to conſult the ſafety of her young; however, the poor animal, braving every danger, rather than leave her cub behind to be worried by the dogs, took it up in her mouth, and ran with it in this manner for ſome miles. At laſt, taking her way through a farmer's yard, ſhe was aſſaulted by a maſtiff, and at laſt obliged to drop her cub, which was taken up by the farmer. I was not diſpleaſed to hear that this faithful creature eſcaped the purſuit, and at laſt got off in ſafety. [331] The cubs of the fox are born blind, like thoſe of the dog; they are eighteen months or two years in coming to perfection, and live about twelve or fourteen years.

As the fox makes war upon all animals, ſo all others ſeem to make war upon him. The dog hunts him with peculiar acrimony; the wolf is ſtill a greater and more neceſſitous enemy, who purſues him to his very retreat. Some pretend to ſay that, to keep the wolf away, the fox lays at the mouth of its kennel a certain herb, to which the wolf has a parti⯑cular averſion. This, which no doubt is a fable, at leaſt ſhews that theſe two animals are as much enemies to each other as to all the reſt of animated nature. But the fox is not hunted by quadrupedes alone; for the birds, who know him for their mortal enemy, attend him in his excurſions, and give each other warning of their approaching danger. The daw, the magpye, and the black bird conduct him along, perching on the hedges as he creeps below, and, with their cries and notes of hoſtility, apprize all other animals to beware; a caution which they per⯑fectly underſtand, and put into practice. The hunters themſelves are often informed by the birds of the place of his retreat, and ſet the dogs into thoſe thickets where they ſee them par⯑ticularly [332] noiſy and querulous. So that it is the fate of this petty plunderer to be deteſted by every rank of animals; all the weaker claſſes ſhun, and all the ſtronger purſue him.

The fox, of all wild animals, is moſt ſubject to the influence of climate; and there are found as many varieties in this kind almoſt as in any of the domeſtic animals^*. The generality of foxes, as is well known, are red; but there are ſome, though not in England, of a greyiſh caſt; and Mr. Buffon aſſerts that the tip of the tail in all foxes is white; which, however, is not ſo in thoſe of this country. There are only three varieties of this animal in Great Britain, and theſe are rather eſtabliſhed upon a difference of ſize than of colour or form. The grey-hound fox is the largeſt, talleſt, and boldeſt; and will attack a grown ſheep. The maſtiff fox is leſs, but more ſtrongly built. The cur fox is the leaſt and moſt common; he lurks about hedges and out-houſes, and is the moſt pernicious of the three to the peaſant and farmer.

THE JACKALL.

THE Jackall is one of the commoneſt wild animals in the whole eaſt; and yet there is ſcarce any leſs known in Europe, or more con⯑fuſedly deſcribed by natural hiſtorians. In ge⯑neral, we are aſſured that it reſembles the fox in figure and diſpoſition, but we are ſtill ig⯑norant of thoſe nice diſtinctions by which it is known to be of a different ſpecies. It is ſaid to be of the ſize of a middling dog, reſembling the fox in the hinder parts, particularly the tail; and the wolf in the fore-parts, eſpecially the noſe. Its legs are ſhorter than thoſe of the fox, and its colour is of a bright yellow, or ſorrel, as we expreſs it in horſes. This is the reaſon it has been called in Latin the Golden Wolf; a name, however, which is entirely unknown in the countries where they are moſt common.

The ſpecies of the jackall is diffuſed all over Aſia, and is found alſo in moſt parts of Africa, ſeeming to take up the place of the wolf, which in thoſe countries is not ſo common. There ſeems to be many varieties among them; thoſe of the warmeſt climates appear to be the largeſt, and their colour is rather of a reddiſh brown than of that beautiful yellow by which the ſmaller jackall are chiefly diſtinguiſhed.

[335]Although the ſpecies of the wolf approaches very near to that of the dog, yet the jackall ſeems to be placed between them; to the ſavage fierceneſs of the wolf it adds the impudent fa⯑miliarity of the dog^*. Its cry is an howl, mixed with barking, and a lamentation reſembling that of human diſtreſs. It is more noiſy in its pur⯑ſuits even than the dog, and more voracious than the wolf. The jackall never goes alone, but always in a pack of forty or fifty together. Theſe unite regularly every day to form a com⯑bination againſt the reſt of the foreſt. Nothing then can eſcape them; they are content to take up with the ſmalleſt animals; and yet, when thus united, have they courage to face the largeſt. They ſeem very little afraid of mankind; but purſue their game to their very doors, without teſtify⯑ing either attachment or apprehenſion. They enter inſolently into the ſheep-folds, the yards, and the ſtables, and, when they can find nothing elſe, devour the leather harneſs, boots, and ſhoes, and run off with what they have not time to ſwallow.

They not only attack the living but the dead. They ſcratch up with their feet the new made graves, and devour the corpſe how putrid ſoever. [336] In thoſe countries therefore where they abound, they are obliged to beat the earth over the grave, and to mix it with thorns, to prevent the jackalls from ſcraping it away. They always aſſiſt each other as well in this employment of exhumation as in that of the chace. While they are at this dreary work, they exhort each other by a moſt mournful cry, reſembling that of children under chaſtiſement; and when they have thus dug up the body, they ſhare it ami⯑cably between them. Theſe, like all other ſa⯑vage animals, when they have once taſted of human fleſh, can never after refrain from pur⯑ſuing mankind. They watch the burying grounds, follow armies, and keep in the rear of caravans. They may be conſidered as the vulture of the quadrupede kind; every thing that once had animal life, ſeems equally agree⯑able to them; the moſt putrid ſubſtances are greedily devoured; dried leather, and any thing that has been rubbed with greaſe, how inſipid ſoever in itſelf, is ſufficient to make the whole go down.

They hide themſelves in holes by day, and ſeldom appear abroad till night-fall, when the jackall that has firſt hit upon the ſcent of ſome larger beaſt gives notice to the reſt by an howl, [337] which it repeats as it runs; while all the reſt, that are within hearing, pack in to its aſſiſt⯑ance. The gazelle, or whatever other beaſt it may be, finding itſelf purſued, makes off towards the houſes and the towns; hoping, by that means, to deter its purſuers from follow⯑ing: but hunger gives the jackall the ſame de⯑gree of boldneſs that ſcar gives the gazelle, and it purſues even to the verge of the city, and often along the ſtreets. The gazelle, however, by this means, moſt frequently eſcapes; for the inhabitants ſallying our, often diſturb the jack⯑all in the chace; and as it hunts by the ſcent, when once driven off, it never recovers it again. In this manner we ſee how experience prompts the gazelle, which is naturally a very timid animal, and particularly fearful of man himſelf, to take refuge near him, conſidering him as the leaſt dangerous enemy, and often eſcaping by his aſſiſtance.

But man is not the only intruder upon the jackall's induſtry and purſuits. The lion, the tiger, and the panther, whoſe appetites are ſu⯑perior to their ſwiftneſs, attend to its call, and follow in ſilence at ſome diſtance behind^*. The jackall purſues the whole night with un⯑ceaſing aſſiduity, keeping up the cry, and with [338] great perſeverance at laſt tires down its prey; but juſt at the moment it ſuppoſes itſelf going to ſhare the fruits of its labour, the lion or the leopard comes in, ſatiates himſelf upon the ſpoil, and his poor provider muſt be content with the bare carcaſs he leaves behind. It is not to be wondered at, therefore, if the jackall be voracious, ſince it ſo ſeldom has a ſuffi⯑ciency; nor that it feeds on putrid ſubſtances, ſince it is not permitted to feaſt on what it has newly killed. Beſide theſe enemies, the jackall has ſtill another to cope with, for between him and the dog there is an irreconcileable anti⯑pathy, and they never part without an engage⯑ment. The Indian peaſants often chace them as we do foxes; and have learned, by expe⯑rience, when they have got a lion or a tiger in their rear. Upon ſuch occaſions they keep their dogs cloſe, as they would be no match for ſuch formidable animals, and endeavour to put them to flight with their cries. When the lion is diſmiſſed, they more eaſily cope with the jackall, who is as ſtupid as it is impudent, and ſeems much better fitted for purſuing than re⯑treating. It ſometimes happens that one of them ſteals ſilently into an outhouſe, to ſeize the poultry, or devour the furniture, but hear⯑ing others in full cry without at a diſtance, [339] without thought, it inſtantly anſwers the call, and thus betrays its own depredations. The peaſants ſally out upon it, and the fooliſh ani⯑mal finds, too late, that its inſtinct was too powerful for its ſafety.

THE ISATIS.

AS the jackall is a ſort of intermediate ſpe⯑cies between the dog and the wolf^*, ſo the iſatis may be conſidered as placed between the dog and the fox. This animal has hitherto been ſuppoſed to be only a variety of the latter; but from the lateſt obſervations, there is no doubt of their being perfectly diſtinct. The iſatis is very common in all the northern countries bor⯑dering upon the Icy ſea; and is ſeldom found, except in the coldeſt countries. It extremely reſembles a fox, in the form of its body, and the length of its tail; and a dog, in the make of its head, and the poſition of its eyes. The hair of theſe animals is ſofter than that of a common fox; ſome are blue, ſome are white at one ſeaſon, and at another of a ruſſet brown. Although the whole of its hair be two inches long, thick, tufted and gloſſy, yet the under [340] jaw is entirely without any, and the ſkin appears bare in that part.

This animal can bear only the coldeſt climates, and is chiefly ſeen along the coaſts of the Icy ſea, and upon the banks of the great rivers that diſcharge themſelves therein. It is chiefly fond of living in the open country, and ſeldom ſeen in the foreſt, being moſtly found in the moun⯑tainous and naked regions of Norway, Siberia, and Lapland. It burrows, like the fox; and when with young, the female retires to her kennel, in the ſame manner as the fox is ſeen to do. Theſe holes, which are very narrow, and extremely deep, have many out-lets. They are kept very clean, and are bedded at the bottom with moſs, for the animal to be more at its eaſe. Its manner of coupling, time of geſtation, and number of young, are all ſimilar to what is found in the fox; and it uſually brings forth at the end of May, or the beginning of June.

Such are the particulars in which this animal differs from thoſe of the dog kind, and in which it reſembles them: but its moſt ſtriking peculiarity remains ſtill to be mentioned; namely, its changing its colour, and being ſeen at one time brown, and at another perfectly white. As was already ſaid, ſome are natu⯑rally blue, and their colour never changes; but [341] ſuch as are to be white, are, when brought forth, of a yellow hue, which, in the beginning of September, is changed to white, all except along the top of the back, along which runs a ſtripe of brown, and another croſſing it down the ſhoulders, at which time the animal is called the croſt fox; however, this brown croſs totally diſappears before winter, and then the creature is all over white, and its fur is two inches long: this, about the beginning of May, again begins to fall; and the molting is completed about the middle of July, when the iſatis becomes brown once more. The fur of this animal is of no value, unleſs it be killed in winter.

THE HYAENA.

THE hyaena is the laſt animal I ſhall men⯑tion among thoſe of the dog kind, which it in many reſpects reſembles, although too ſtrongly marked to be ſtrictly reduced to any type. The hyaena is nearly of the ſize of a wolf; and has ſome ſimilitude to that animal in the ſhape of its head and body. The head, at firſt ſight, does not appear to differ, except that the ears of the hyaena are longer, and more without hair; but, upon obſerving more cloſely, we ſhall find the head broader, the noſe ſlatter, and [342] not ſo pointed. The eyes are not placed ob⯑liquely, but more like thoſe of a dog. The legs, particularly the hinder, are longer than thoſe either of the dog or the wolf, and differ⯑ent from all other quadrupedes whatſoever, in having but four toes, as well on the fore feet as on the hinder. Its hair is of a dirty greyiſh, marked with black, diſpoſed in waves down its body. Its tail is ſhort, with pretty long hair; and immediately under it, above the anus, there is an opening into a kind of glandular pouch, which ſeparates a ſubſtance of the con⯑ſiſtence, but not of the odour, of civet. This opening might have given riſe to the error of the ancients, who aſſerted, that this animal was every year, alternately, male and female. Such are the moſt ſtriking diſtinctions of the hyaena, as given us by naturaliſts; which, ne⯑vertheleſs, convey but a very confuſed idea of the peculiarity of its form. Its manner of hold⯑ing the head ſeems remarkable; ſomewhat like a dog, purſuing the ſcent, with the noſe near the ground. The head being held thus low, the back appears elevated, like that of the hog, which, with a long briſtly band of hair that runs all along, gives it a good deal the air of that animal; and, it is probable that, from this ſimilitude it firſt took its name, the word huoina [343] being Greek, and derived from hus, which ſig⯑nifies a ſow.

But no words can give an adequate idea of this animal's figure, deformity, and fierceneſs, more ſavage and untameable than any other quadrupede, it ſeems to be for ever in a ſtate of rage or rapacity, for ever growling, except when receiving its food. Its eyes then gliſten, the briſtles of its back all ſtand upright, its head hangs low, and yet its teeth appear; all which give it a moſt frightful aſpect, which a dreadful howl tends to heighten. This, which I have often heard, is very peculiar: its be⯑ginning reſembles the voice of a man moan⯑ing, and its latter part as if he were making a violent effort to vomit. As it is loud and fre⯑quent, it might, perhaps, have been ſometimes miſtaken for that of a human voice in diſtreſs, and have given riſe to the accounts of the ancients, who tell us, that the hyaena makes its moan, to attract unwary travellers, and then to deſtroy them: however this be, it ſeems the moſt un⯑tractable, and, for its ſize, the moſt terrible of all other quadrupedes; nor does its courage fall ſhort of its ferocity; it defends itſelf againſt the lion, is a match for the panther, and attacks the ounce, that it ſeldom fails to conquer.

THE ERMINE, OR STOAT,

NEXT to the weaſel in ſize, and perfectly alike in figure, is the Ermine. The difference between this and the former animal is ſo very ſmall, that many, and among the reſt Linnaeus, who gives but one deſcription of both, have confounded the two kinds together. However their differences are ſufficient to induce later naturaliſts to ſuppoſe the two kinds diſtinct; and as their lights ſeems preferable, we chuſe to follow their deſcriptions^*.

The ſtoat, or ermine, differs from the weaſel in ſize, being uſually nine inches long; whereas the former is not much above ſix. The tail of the ermine is always tipped with black, and is longer in proportion to the body and more fur⯑niſhed with hair. The edges of the ears and the ends of the toes in this animal are of a yellowiſh white; and although it is of the ſame colour with the weaſel, being of a lightiſh [354] brown, and though both this animal, as well as the weaſel, in the moſt northern parts of Europe, changes its colour in winter, and be⯑comes white; yet even then the weaſel may be eaſily diſtinguiſhed from the ermine by the tip of the tail, which in the latter is always black.

It is well known that the fur of the ermine is the moſt valuable of any hitherto known; and it is in winter only that this little animal has it of the proper colour and conſiſtence. In ſummer, the ermine, as was ſaid before, is brown, and it may at that time more properly be called the ſtoat. There are few ſo unac⯑quainted with quadrupedes as not to perceive this change of colour in the hair, which in ſome degree obtains in them all. The horſe, the cow, and the goat, all manifeſtly change colour in the beginning of ſummer, the old long hair falling off, and a ſhorter coat of hair appearing in its room, generally of a darker colour, and yet more gloſſy. What obtains in our temperate climate, is ſeen to prevail ſtill more ſtrongly in thoſe regions where the winters are long and ſevere, and the ſummers ſhort and yet generally hot in an extreme degree. The animal has ſtrength enough during that ſeaſon, to throw off a warm coat of fur, which would but incommode it, and continues for two or [355] three months in a ſtate ſomewhat reſembling the ordinary quadrupedes of the milder cli⯑mates. At the approach of winter, however, the cold encreaſing, the coat of hair ſeems to thicken in proportion; from being coarſe and ſhort it lengthens and grows finer, while mul⯑titudes of ſmaller hairs grow up between the longer, thicken the coat, and give it all that warmth and ſoftneſs which are ſo much valued in the furs of the northern animals.

It is no eaſy matter to account for this re⯑markable warmth of the furs of northern qua⯑drupedes, or how they come to be furniſhed with ſuch an abundant covering. It is eaſy enough, indeed, to ſay that Nature fits them thus for the climate; and, like an indulgent mother, when ſhe expoſes them to the rigour of an intem⯑perate winter, ſupplies them with a covering againſt its inclemency. But this is only flou⯑riſhing; it is not eaſy, I ſay, to tell how Nature comes to furniſh them in this manner. A few particulars on this ſubject are all that we yet know. It is obſervable among quadrupedes, as well as even among the human ſpecies itſelf, that a thin ſparing diet is apt to produce hair; children that have been ill fed, famiſhed dogs and horſes, are more hairy than others whoſe food has been more plentiful. This may, therefore, be one [356] cauſe that the animals of the north, in winter, are more hairy than thoſe of the milder climates. At that ſeaſon, the whole country is covered with deep ſnow, and the proviſions which theſe creatures are able to procure can be but pre⯑carious and ſcanty. Its becoming finer may alſo proceed from the ſeverity of the cold, that contracts the pores of the ſkin, and the hair conſequently takes the ſhape of the aperture through which it grows, as wiers are made ſmaller by being drawn through a ſmaller ori⯑fice. However this may be, all the animals of the artic climates may be ſaid to have their winter and ſummer garments, except very far to the north, as in Greenland, where the cold is ſo continually intenſe and the food ſo ſcarce, that neither the bears nor foxes change colour at all^*.

The ermine, as was ſaid, is remarkable among theſe for the ſoftneſs, the cloſeneſs, and the warmth of its fur. It is brown in ſummer, like the weaſel, and changes colour before the winter is begun, becoming a beautiful cream colour, all except the tip of the tail, as was ſaid before, which ſtill continues black. Mr. Daubenton had one of theſe brought him with its white winter [...]ur, which he put into a cage and kept, [357] in order to obſerve the manner of moulting its hair. He received it in the beginning of March, and in a very ſhort time it began to ſhed its coat, and a mixture of brown was ſeen to prevail among the white, ſo that at the ninth of the ſame month its head was nearly become of a reddiſh brown. Day after day this colour appeared to extend at firſt along the neck and down the back, in the manner of a ſtripe of about half an inch broad. The fore-part of the legs then aſſumed the ſame colour; a part of the head, the thighs, and the tail, were the laſt that changed; but at the end of the month there was no white remaining, except on thoſe parts which are always white in this ſpecies, particu⯑larly the throat and the belly. However, he had not the pleaſure of ſeeing this animal re⯑ſume its former whiteneſs, although he kept it for above two years; which, without doubt, was owing to its impriſoned ſtate; this colour being partly owing to its ſtinted food, and partly to the rigour of the ſeaſon. During its ſtate of confinement, this little animal always continued very wild and untractable; for ever in a ſtate of violent agitation, except when aſleep, which it often continued for three parts of the day. Except for its moſt diſagreeable ſcent, it was an extremely pretty creature, its [358] eyes ſprightly, its phyſiognomy pleaſant, and its motions ſo ſwift that the eye could ſcarce at⯑tend them. It was fed with eggs and fleſh, but it always let them putrify before it touched either. As ſome of this kind are known to be fond of honey, it was tried to feed this animal with ſuch food for a while; after having for three or four days deprived it of other food, it ate of this, and died ſhortly after; a ſtrong proof of its being a diſtinct ſpecies from the pole cat or the martin, who feed upon honey, but otherwiſe pretty much reſemble the ermine in their figure and diſpoſitions.

In the north of Europe and Siberia, their ſkins make a valuable article of commerce, and they are found there much more frequently than among us. In Siberia they burrow in the fields, and are taken in traps baited with fleſh. In Norway they are either ſhot with blunt ar⯑rows or taken in traps made of two flat ſtones, one being propped with a ſtick, to which is faſtened a baited ſtring, which when the ani⯑mals attempt to pull away, the ſtone drops and cruſhes them to death. This animal is ſome⯑times found white in Great Britain, and is then called a white weaſel. Its furs, however, among us are of no value, having neither the thickneſs, the cloſeneſs, nor the whiteneſs of thoſe which [359] come from Siberia. The fur of the ermine, in every country, changes by time; for, as much of its beautiful whiteneſs is given it by certain arts known to the furriers, ſo its natural colour returns, and its former whiteneſs can never be reſtored again.

THE FERRET.

THE animal next in ſize to the ermine, is the ferret; which is a kind of domeſtic in Europe, though ſaid to be originally brought from Africa into Spain, which being a country abounding in rabbits, required an animal of this kind, more than any other: however this be, it is not to be found at preſent among us except in its domeſtic ſtate; and it is chiefly kept tame, for the purpoſes of the warren.

The ferret is about one foot long, being nearly four inches longer than the weaſel. It reſembles that animal in the ſlenderneſs of its body, and the ſhortneſs of its legs; but its noſe is ſharper, and its body more ſlender, in pro⯑portion to its length. The ferret is commonly of a cream colour; but they are alſo found of all the colours of the weaſel kind; white, black⯑iſh, brown, and party-coloured. Thoſe that are of the whitiſh kind, have their eyes red, as is almoſt general with all animals entirely of that [360] colour. But its principal diſtinction from the weaſel, is the length of the hair on its tail, which is much longer in the ferret than the weaſel. Words will not well expreſs the other diſtinctions; and what might take up a page in dull diſcrimination, a ſingle glance of the eye, when the animals themſelves are pre⯑ſented, can diſcover.

As this animal is a native of the torrid zone^*, ſo it cannot bear the rigours of our climate, without care and ſhelter; and it gene⯑rally repays the trouble of its keeping, by its great agility in the warren. It is naturally ſuch an enemy of the rabbit kind, that if a dead rabbit be preſented to a young ferret, although it has never ſeen one before, it inſtantly attacks and bites it with an appearance of rapacity. If the rabbit be living, the ferret is ſtill more eager, ſeizes it by the neck, winds itſelf round it, and continues to ſuck its blood, till it be ſatiated.

Their chief uſe in warrens, is to enter the holes, and drive the rabbits into the nets that are prepared for them at the mouth. For this purpoſe, the ferret is muzzled; otherwiſe, in⯑ſtead of driving out the rabbit, it would con⯑tent itſelf with killing and ſucking its blood at [361] the bottom of the hole; but, by this con⯑trivance, being rendered unable to ſeize its prey, the rabbit eſcapes from its claws, and inſtantly makes to the mouth of the hole with ſuch precipitation, that it is inextricably en⯑tangled in the net placed there for its reception. It often happens, however, that the ferret diſ⯑engages itſelf of its muzzle, and then it is moſt commonly loſt, unleſs it be dug out; for, find⯑ing all its wants ſatisfied in the warren, it never thinks of returning to the owner, but continues to lead a rapacious ſolitary life while the ſummer continues, and dies with the cold of the winter. In order to bring the ferret from his hole, the owners often burn ſtraw and other ſubſtances at the mouth; they alſo beat above, to terrify it; but this does not always ſucceed; for as there are often ſeveral iſſues to each hole, the ferret is affected neither by the noiſe or the ſmoke, but continues ſecure at the bottom, ſleeping the greateſt part of the time, and waking only to ſatisfy the calls of hunger.

The female of this ſpecies^*, is ſenſibly leſs than the male, whom ſhe ſeeks with great ar⯑dour, and, it is ſaid, often dies, without being admitted. They are uſually kept in boxes, [362] with wool, of which they make themſelves a warm bed, which ſerves to defend them from the rigour of the climate. They ſleep almoſt continually; and the inſtant they awake, they ſeem eager for food. They are uſually fed with bread and milk, and they breed twice a year. Some of them devour their young as ſoon as brought forth; and then they become fit for the male again. Their number is uſually from five to ſix at a litter; and this is ſaid to conſiſt of more females than males. Upon the whole, this is an uſeful, but a diſagreeable and offenſive animal; its ſcent is foetid, its nature voracious, it is tame without any attachment, and ſuch is its appetite for blood, that it has been known to attack and kill children in the cradle. It is very eaſy to be irritated; and, although at all times its ſmell is very offenſive, it then is much more ſo; and its bite is very difficult of cure.

To the ferret kind we may add an animal which Mr. Buffon calls the Vanſire, the ſkin of which was ſent him ſtuffed, from Madagaſcar. It was thirteen inches long, a good deal re⯑ſembling the ferret in figure, but differing in the number of its grinding teeth, which amounted to twelve; whereas, in the ferret, there are but eight: it differed alſo in colour, [363] being of a dark brown, and exactly the ſame on all parts of its body. Of this animal, ſo nearly reſembling the ferret, we have no other hiſtory but the mere deſcription of its figure; and in a quadrupede whoſe kind is ſo ſtrongly marked, perhaps this is ſufficient to ſatisfy curioſity.

THE POLECAT.

THE Polecat is larger than the weaſel, the ermine, or the ferret, being one foot five inches long; whereas, the weaſel is but ſix inches, the ermine nine, and the ferret eleven inches. It ſo much reſembles the ferret in form, that ſome have been of opinion they were one and the ſame animal; nevertheleſs, there are a ſufficient number of diſtinctions between them: it is, in the firſt place, larger than the ferret; it is not quite ſo ſlender, and has a blunter noſe; it differs alſo internally, having but fourteen ribs, whereas the ferret has fifteen; and wants one of the breaſt bones, which is found in the ferret: however, warreners aſſert, that the pole⯑cat will mix with the ferret; and they are ſome⯑times obliged to procure an intercourſe between theſe two animals, to improve the breed of the latter, which, by long confinement, is ſometimes [364] ſeen to abate of its rapacious diſpoſition. Mr. Buffon denies that the ferret will admit the pole⯑cat; yet gives a variety, under the name of both animals, which may very probably be a ſpurious race between the two.

However this be, the polecat ſeems by much the more pleaſing animal of the two; for al⯑though the long ſlender ſhape of all theſe ver⯑min tribes gives them a very diſagreeable ap⯑pearance, yet the ſoftneſs and colour of the hair in ſome of them, atones for the defect, and renders them, if not pretty, at leaſt not frightful. The polecat, for the moſt part, is of a deep chocolate colour; it is white about the mouth; the ears are ſhort, rounded, and tipt with white; a little beyond the corners of the mouth a ſtripe begins, which runs backward, partly white and partly yellow: its hair, like that of all this claſs, is of two ſorts; the long and the furry: but, in this animal, the two kinds are of different colours; the longeſt is black, and the ſhorter yellowiſh^*: the throat, feet and tail, are blacker than any other parts of the body: the claws are white underneath, and brown above; and its tail is about two inches and an half.

It is very deſtructive to young game of all [365] kinds^*: but the rabbit ſeems to be its fa⯑vourite prey; a ſingle polecat is often ſuf⯑ficient to deſtroy a whole warren; for, with that inſatiable thirſt for blood which is natural to all the weaſel kind, it kills much more than it can devour; and I have ſeen twenty rabbits at a time taken out dead, which they had deſtroyed, and that by a wound which was hardly perceptible. Their ſize, however, which is ſo much larger than the weaſel, renders their retreats near houſes much more precarious; although I have ſeen them burrow near a vil⯑lage, ſo as ſcarcely to be extirpated. But, in general, they reſide in woods or thick brakes, making holes under ground of about two yards deep, commonly ending among the roots of large treets, for greater ſecurity. In winter they frequent houſes, and make a common practice of robbing the hen-rooſt and the dairy.

The polecat is particularly deſtructive among pidgeons^†, when it gets into a dove-houſe; without making ſo much noiſe as the weaſel, it does a great deal more miſchief; it diſ⯑patches each with a ſingle wound in the head; and, after killing a great number, and ſatiating itſelf with their blood, it then begins to think [366] of carrying them home. This it carefully performs, going and returning, and bringing them one by one to its hole; but if it ſhould happen that the opening by which it got into the dove-houſe be not large enough for the body of the pidgeon to get through, this miſ⯑chievous creature contents itſelf with carrying away the heads, and makes a moſt delicious feaſt upon the brains.

THE MARTIN.

THE Martin is a larger animal than any of the former, being generally eighteen inches long, and the tail ten more. It differs from the polecat, in being about four or five inches longer; its tail alſo is longer in proportion, and more buſhy at the end; its noſe is flatter; its cry is ſharper and more piercing; its colours are more elegant; and, what ſtill adds to their beauty, its ſcent, very unlike the former, in⯑ſtead of being offenſive, is conſidered as a moſt pleaſing perfume. The martin, in ſhort, is the moſt beautiful of all Britiſh beaſts of prey: its head is ſmall, and elegantly formed; its eyes lively; its ears are broad, rounded and open; its back, its ſides, and tail, are covered with a fine thick downy fur, with longer hair inter⯑mixed; the roots are aſh colour, the middle of [368] a bright cheſnut, the points black; the head is brown, with a ſlight caſt of red; the legs, and upper ſides of the feet, are of a chocolate colour; the palms, or under ſides, are covered with a thick down, like that of the body; the feet are broad, the claws white, large and ſharp, well adapted for the purpoſes of climb⯑ing, but, as in others of the weaſel kind, in⯑capable of being ſheathed or unſheathed at pleaſure; the throat and breaſt are white; the belly of the ſame colour with the back, but rather paler; the hair on the tail is very long, eſpecially at the end, where it appears much thicker than near the inſertion.

There is alſo a variety of this animal, called the yellow breaſted martin, which in no reſpect differs from the former, except that this has a yellow breaſt, whereas the other has a white one: the colour of the body alſo is darker; and, as it lives more among trees than the other martin, its fur is more valuable, beautiful and gloſſy. The former of theſe Mr. Buffon calls the Fouine; the latter, ſimply the Martin; and he ſuppoſes them to be a diſtinct ſpecies: but as they differ only in colour, it is unneceſſary to embarraſs hiſtory by a new diſtinction, where there is only ſo minute a difference.

Of all animals of the weaſel kind, the martin [369] is the moſt pleaſing; all its motions ſhew great grace, as well as agility; and there is ſcarce an animal in our woods that will venture to oppoſe it. Quadrupedes five times as big are eaſily vanquiſhed; the hare, the ſheep, and even the wild cat itſelf, though much ſtronger, is not a match for the martin: and although carnivorous animals are not fond of engaging each other, yet the wild cat and the martin ſeldom meet without a combat. Geſner tells us of one of this kind that he kept tame, which was ex⯑tremely playful and pretty; it went among the houſes of the neighbourhood, and always re⯑turned home when hungry: it was extremely fond of a dog that had been bred up with it, and uſed to play with it as cats are ſeen to play, lying on its back, and biting without anger or injury. That which was kept tame by Mr. Buffon, was not quite ſo ſocial: it was diveſted of its ferocity, but continued without attachment; and was ſtill ſo wild as to be obliged to be held by a chain. Whenever a cat appeared, it prepared for war; and if any of the poultry came within its reach, it flew upon them with avidity. Though it was tied by the middle of the body, it frequently eſcaped: at firſt it returned after ſome hours, but without ſeeming pleaſed, and as if it only [370] came to be fed; the next time it continued abroad longer; and, at laſt, went away without ever returning. It was a female, and was, when it went off, a year and an half old; and Mr. Buffon ſuppoſes it to have gone in queſt of the male. It ate every thing that was given it, except ſallad or herbs; and it was remarkably fond of honey. It was remarked that it drank often, and often ſlept for two days together; and that, in like manner, it was often two or three days without ſleeping. Before it went to ſleep, it drew itſelf up into a round, hid its head, and covered it with its tail. When awake it was in continual agitation, and was obliged to be tied up, not leſs to prevent its attacking the poultry than to hinder it from breaking whatever it came near, by the capri⯑cious wildneſs of its motions.

The yellow breaſted martin is much more common in France than in England; and yet even there this variety is much ſcarcer than that with the white breaſt. The latter keeps nearer houſes and villages to make its petty ravages among the ſheep and the poultry; the other keeps in the woods, and leads in every reſpect a ſavage life, building its neſt on the tops of trees, and living upon ſuch animals as are en⯑tirely wild like itſelf. About night-fall it [371] uſually quits its ſolitude to ſeek its prey, hunts after ſquirrels, rats, and rabbits; deſtroys great numbers of birds and their young, takes the eggs from the neſt, and often removes them to its own without breaking^*. The inſtant the martin finds itſelf purſued by dogs, for which purpoſe there is a peculiar breed, that ſeem fit for this chace only, it immediately makes to its retreat, which is generally in the hollow of ſome tree, towards the top, and which it is im⯑poſſible to come at without cutting it down. Their neſt is generally the original tenement of the ſquirrel, which that litttle animal beſtowed great pains in compleating; but the martin having killed and diſpoſſeſſed the little architect, takes poſſeſſion of it for its own uſe, enlarges its dimenſions, improves the ſoftneſs of the bed, and in that retreat brings forth its young. Its litter is never above three or four at a time; they are brought forth with the eyes cloſed, as in all the reſt of this kind, and very ſoon come to a ſtate of perfection. The dam compenſates for her own deficiency of milk, by bringing them eggs and live birds, accuſtoming them from the beginning to a life of carnage and rapine. When ſhe leads them from the neſt into the woods, the [372] birds at once diſtinguiſh their enemies and at⯑tend them, as we before obſerved of the fox, with all the marks of alarm and animoſity. Wherever the martin conducts her young, a flock of ſmall birds are ſeen threatening and in⯑ſulting her, alarming every thicket, and often directing the hunter in his purſuit.

The martin is ſtill more common in North-America than in any part of Europe. Theſe animals are found in all the northern parts of the world, from Siberia to China and Canada. In every country they are hunted for their furs, which are very valuable, and chiefly ſo when taken in the beginning of winter. The moſt eſteemed part of the martin's ſkin is that part of it which is browner than the reſt, and ſtretches along the back-bone. Above twelve thouſand of theſe ſkins are annually imported into Eng⯑land from Hudſon's Bay, and above thirty thouſand from Canada.

THE SABLE.

MOST of the claſſes of the weaſel kind would have continued utterly unknown and diſ⯑regarded were it not for their furs, which are finer, more gloſſy and ſoft, than thoſe of any other quadrupede. Their diſpoſitions are fierce and untameable; their ſcent generally offenſive; [373] and their figure diſproportioned and unpleaſing. The knowledge of one or two of them would, therefore, have ſufficed curioſity; and the reſt would probably have been confounded together, under one common name, as things uſeleſs and unintereſting, had not their ſkins been coveted by the vain, and conſidered as capable of adding to human magnificence or beauty.

Of all theſe, however, the ſkin of the ſable is the moſt coveted, and held in the higheſt eſteem. It is of a browniſh black, and the darker it is it becomes the more valuable. A ſingle ſkin, though not above four inches broad, is often valued at ten or fifteen pounds^*; the fur differing from others in this, that it has no grain; ſo that, rub it which way you will, it is equally ſmooth and unreſiſting. Nevertheleſs, though this little animal's robe was ſo much co⯑veted by the great, its hiſtory till of late was but very little known; and we are obliged to Mr. Jonelin for the firſt accurate deſcription of its form and nature^†. From him we learn that the ſable reſembles the martin in form, and ſize, and the weaſel in the number of its teeth; for it is to be obſerved, that whereas the martin has thirty-eight teeth, the weaſel has but thirty-four; in this reſpect, therefore, the ſable ſeems to [374] make the ſhade between theſe two animals; being ſhaped like the one, and furniſhed with teeth like the other. It is alſo furniſhed with very large whiſkers about the mouth; its feet are broad and, as in the reſt of its kind, fur⯑niſhed with five claws on each foot. Theſe are its conſtant marks; but its fur, for which it is ſo much valued, is not always the ſame. Some of this ſpecies are of a dark brown over all the body, except the ears and the throat, where the hair is rather yellow; others are more of a yellowiſh tincture, their ears and throat being alſo much paler. Theſe in both are the colours they have in winter, and which they are ſeen to change in the beginning of the ſpring; the former becoming of a yellow brown, the latter of a pale yellow. In other reſpects they reſemble their kind, in vivacity, agility, and inquietude; in ſleeping by day and ſeeking their prey by night; in living upon ſmaller animals, and in the diſagreeable odour that chiefly characterizes their race.

They generally inhabit along the banks of rivers, in ſhady places, and in the thickeſt woods. They leap with great eaſe from tree to tree, and are ſaid to be afraid of the ſun, which tarniſhes the luſtre of their robes. They are chiefly hunted in winter for their ſkins, [375] during which part of the year they are only in ſeaſon. They are moſtly found in Siberia, and but very few in any other country of the world; and this ſcarcity it is which enhances their value. The hunting of the ſable chiefly falls to the lot of the condemned criminals, who are ſent from Ruſſia into theſe wild and extenſive foreſts that, for a great part of the year, are covered with ſnow; and in this inſtance, as in many others, the luxuries and ornaments of the vain, are wrought out of the dangers and the miſeries of the wretched. Theſe are obliged to furniſh a certain number of ſkins every year, and are puniſhed if the proper quantity be not pro⯑vided.

The ſable is alſo killed by the Ruſſian ſoldiers, who are ſent into thoſe parts to that end. They are [...]ed a certain number of ſkins yearly, like the former, and are obliged to ſhoot with only a ſingle ball, to avoid ſpoiling the ſkin, or elſe with croſs-bows and blunt arrows. As an encouragement to the hunters, they are al⯑lowed to ſhare among themſelves the ſurplus of thoſe ſkins which they thus procure; and this, in the proceſs of ſix or ſeven years, amounts to a very conſiderable ſum. A colonel, during his ſeven years ſtay, gains about four thouſand crowns for his ſhare, and the common men ſix or ſeven hundred each for theirs.

THE ICHNEUMON.

THE Ichneumon, which ſome have inju⯑diciouſly denominated the Cat of Pharaoh, is one of the boldeſt and moſt uſeful animals of all the weaſel kind. In the kingdom of Egypt, where it is chiefly bred, it is uſed for the ſame purpoſes that cats are in Europe, and is even more ſerviceable, as being more expert in catch⯑ing mice than they. This animal is uſually of the ſize of the martin, and greatly reſembles it in appearance, except that the hair, which is of a griſly black, is much rougher and leſs downy. The tail alſo is not ſo buſhy at the end; and each hair in particular has three or four colours, which are ſeen in different diſpo⯑ſitions of its body. Under its rougher hairs, there is a ſofter fur of a browniſh colour, the rough hair being about two inches long, but that of the muzzle extremely ſhort, as likewiſe that on the legs and paws. However, being long ſince brought into a domeſtic ſtate, there are many varieties in this animal; ſome being much larger than the martin, others much leſs; ſome being of a lighter mixture of colours, and ſome being ſtreaked in the manner of a cat.

The Ichneumon, with all the ſtrength of a cat, has more inſtinct and agility; a more uni⯑verſal [377] appetite for carnage, and a greater va⯑riety of powers to procure it^*. Rats, mice, birds, ſerpents, lizards and inſects, are all equally purſued; it attacks every living thing which it is able to overcome, and indiſcrimi⯑nately preys on fleſh of all kinds. Its courage is equal to the vehemence of its appetite. It fears neither the force of the dog nor the inſi⯑dious malice of the cat; neither the claws of the vulture nor the poiſon of the viper. It makes war upon all kinds of ſerpents with great avidity, ſeizes and kills them how venomous ſoever they be; and we are told that when it begins to perceive the effects of their rage, it has recourſe to a certain root, which the Indians call after its name, and aſſert to be an antidote for the bite of the aſp or the viper.

But what this animal is particularly ſervice⯑able to the Egyptians for is, that it diſcovers and deſtroys the eggs of the crocodile. It alſo kills the young ones that have not as yet been able to reach the water; and, as fable uſually goes hand in hand with truth, it is ſaid that the ichneumon ſometimes enters the mouth of the crocodile, when it is found ſleeping on the ſhore, boldly attacks the enemy in the inſide, [378] and at length, when it has effectually deſtroyed it, it eats its way out again.

The ichneumon when wild generally reſides along the banks of rivers; and in times of inun⯑dation makes to the higher ground, often ap⯑proaching inhabited places in queſt of prey. It goes forward ſilently and cautiouſly, chang⯑ing its manner of moving according to its ne⯑ceſſities. Sometimes it carries the head high, ſhortens its body, and raiſes itſelf upon its legs; ſometimes it lengthens itſelf and ſeems to creep along the ground; it is often obſerved to ſit upon its hind legs, like a dog when taught to beg; but more commonly it is ſeen to dart like an arrow upon its prey, and ſeize it with inevit⯑able certainty. Its eyes are ſprightly and full of fire, its phyſiognomy ſenſible, its body nimble, its tail long, and its hair rough and various. Like all of its kind, it has glands that open behind and furniſh an odorous ſubſtance. Its noſe is too ſharp and its mouth too ſmall to permit its ſeizing things that are large; however, it makes up by its courage and activity its want of arms; it eaſily ſtrangles a cat though ſtronger and larger than itſelf; and often fights with dogs, which, though never ſo bold, learn to dread the ichneumon as a formidable enemy. It alſo takes the water like an otter, and, as we are told, will continue under it much longer.

[379]This animal grows faſt and dies ſoon. It is found in great numbers in all the ſouthern parts of Aſia, from Egypt to Java; and it is alſo found in Africa, particularly at the Cape of Good Hope. It is domeſtic, as was ſaid, in Egypt; but in our colder climates it is not eaſy to breed or maintain them, as they are not able to ſupport the rigour of our winters. Ne⯑vertheleſs they take every precaution that in⯑ſtinct can dictate to keep themſelves warm; they wrap themſelves up into a ball, hiding the head between the legs, and in this manner continue to ſleep all day long. ‘"Seba had one ſent him from the iſland of Ceylon, which he permitted to run for ſome months about the houſe. It was heavy and ſlothful by day, and often could not be awaked even with a blow; but it made up this indolence by its nocturnal activity, ſmelling about without either being wholly tame or wholly miſchievous. It climbed up the walls and the trees with very great eaſe, and appeared extremely fond of ſpiders and worms, which it preferred probably from their reſemblance to ſerpents, its moſt na⯑tural food. It was alſo particularly eager to ſcratch up holes in the ground; and, this added to its wildneſs and uncleanlineſs, obliged our naturaliſt to ſmother it in ſpirits, in order [380] to preſerve, and add it to the reſt of his col⯑lection."’

This animal was one of thoſe formerly wor⯑ſhipped by the Egyptians, who conſidered every thing that was ſerviceable to them as an ema⯑nation of the Deity, and worſhipped ſuch as the beſt repreſentatives of God below. Indeed, if we conſider the number of eggs which the cro⯑codile lays in the ſand at a time, which often amount to three or four hundred, we have rea⯑ſon to admire this little animal's uſefulneſs as well as induſtry in deſtroying them, ſince other⯑wiſe the crocodile might be produced in ſuf⯑ficient numbers to over-run the whole earth.

THE STINKARDS.

But whatever differences there may be in the figure or colour of theſe little animals, they all agree in one common affection, that of being intolerably foetid and loathſome. I have already obſerved that all the weaſel kind have glands furniſhing an odorous matter, near the anus, the conduits of which generally have their aperture juſt at its opening. That ſubſtance which is ſtored up in theſe receptacles, is in ſome of this kind, ſuch as in the martin, already mentioned, and alſo in the genet and the civet, to be deſcribed hereafter, a moſt grateful per⯑fume; but in the weaſel, the ermine, the ferret, and the polecat, it is extremely foetid and of⯑fenſive. Theſe glands in the animals now under conſideration are much larger, and furniſh a matter ſublimed to a degree of putreſcence that is truly amazing. As to the perfumes of muſk and civet, we know that a ſingle grain will dif⯑fuſe itſelf over a whole houſe, and continue for months to ſpread an agreeable odour, without diminution. However, the perfume of the muſk or the civet is nothing, either for ſtrength or [383] duration, to the inſupportable odour of theſe. It is uſually voided with their excrement; and if but a ſingle drop happens to touch any part of a man's garment, it is more than probable that he can never wear any part of it more.

In deſcribing the effects produced by the ex⯑crement of theſe animals, we often hear of its raiſing this diabolical ſmell by its urine. How⯑ever, of this I am apt to doubt; and it ſhould ſeem to me, that, as all the weaſel kind have their excrements ſo extremely foetid from the cauſe above-mentioned, we may conſider theſe alſo as being foetid from the ſame cauſes. Beſides, they are not furniſhed with glands to give their urine ſuch a ſmell; and the analogy between them and the weaſel kind being ſo ſtrong in other reſpects, we may ſuppoſe they reſemble each other in this. It has alſo been ſaid that they take this method of ejecting their excre⯑ment to defend themſelves againſt their pur⯑ſuers; but it is much more probable that this ejection is the convulſive effect of terror, and that it ſerves as their defence without their own concurrence. Certain it is that they never ſmell thus horridly except when enraged or affrighted, for they are often kept tame about the houſes of the planters of America without being very offenſive.

[384]The habitudes of all theſe animals are the ſame, living like all the reſt of the weaſel kind, as they prey upon ſmaller animals and birds eggs. The ſquaſh, for inſtance, burrows like the pole⯑cat in the clefts of rocks, where it brings forth its young. It often ſteals into farm-yards, and kills the poultry, eating only their brains. Nor is it ſafe to purſue or offend it, for then it calls up all its ſcents, which are its moſt powerful protection. At that time neither men nor dogs will offer to approach it; the ſcent is ſo ſtrong that it reaches for half a mile round, and more near at hand is almoſt ſtifling. If the dogs continue to purſue, it does all in its power to eſcape, by getting up a tree, or by ſome ſuch means; but if driven to an extremity, it then lets fly upon the hunters; and if it ſhould happen that a drop of this foetid diſcharge falls in the eye, the perſon runs the riſque of being blinded for ever^*.

The dogs themſelves inſtantly abate of their ardour when they find this extraordinary battery played off againſt them; they inſtantly turn tail, and leave the animal undiſputed maſter of the field; and no exhortations can ever bring them to rally. ‘"In the year 1749," ſays Kalm, "one of theſe animals came near the farm where I [385] lived. It was in winter time, and during the night; and the dogs that were upon the watch, purſued it for ſome time, until it diſcharged againſt them. Although I was in my bed a good way off, I thought I ſhould have been ſuffocated; and the cows and oxen themſelves, by their lowings, ſhewed how much they were affected by the ſtench. About the end of the ſame year, another of theſe animals crept into our cellar, but did not exhale the ſmalleſt ſcent, becauſe it was not diſturbed. A fooliſh woman, however, who perceived it at night, by the ſhining of its eyes, killed it, and at that moment its ſtench began to ſpread. The whole cellar was filled with it to ſuch a degree, that the woman kept her bed for ſeveral days after; and all the bread, meat, and other proviſions, that were kept there, were ſo infected, that they were obliged to be thrown out of doors."’ Nevertheleſs, many of the planters, and the native Americans, keep this animal tame about their houſes; and ſeldom perceive any diſagreeable ſcents, except it is injured or frighted. They are alſo known to eat its fleſh, which ſome aſſert to be tolerable food; however, they take care to deprive it of thoſe glands which are ſo horridly offenſive.

THE GENETT.

FROM the ſquaſh, which is the moſt of⯑fenſive animal in nature, we come to the Genett, which is one of the moſt beautiful and pleaſing. Inſtead of the horrid ſtench with which the for⯑mer affects us, this has a moſt grateful odour; more faint than civet, but to ſome, for that reaſon, more agreeable. This animal is rather leſs than the martin; though there are genetts of different ſizes; and I have ſeen one rather larger. It alſo differs ſomewhat in the form of its body. It is not eaſy, in words, to give an idea of the diſtinction. It reſembles all thoſe of the weaſel kind, in its length, compared to its heighth; it reſembles them in having a ſoft beautiful fur, in having its feet armed with claws that cannot be ſheathed, and in its appe⯑tite for petty carnage. But then it differs from them in having the noſe much ſmaller and longer, rather reſembling that of a fox than a weaſel. The tail alſo, inſtead of being buſhy, tapers to a point, and is much longer; its ears are larger, and its paws ſmaller. As to its colours, and figure in general, the genett is ſpotted with black, upon a ground mixed with red and grey. It has two ſorts of hair, the one ſhorter and [387] ſofter, the other longer and ſtronger, but not above half an inch long on any part of its body, except the tail. Its ſpots are diſtinct and ſeparate upon the ſides, but unite towards the back, and form black ſtripes, which run longitudinally from the neck backwards. It has alſo along the back a kind of mane or longiſh hair, which forms a black ſtreak from the head to the tail, which laſt is marked with rings, al⯑ternately black and white, its whole length.

The genett, like all the reſt of the weaſel kinds, has glands, that ſeparate a kind of per⯑fume, reſembling civet, but which ſoon flies off. Theſe glands open differently from thoſe of other animals of this kind; for, as the latter have their apertures juſt at the opening of the anus, theſe have their aperture immediately under it; ſo that the male ſeems, for this reaſon, to the ſuperficial obſerver, to be of two ſexes.

It reſembles the martin very much in its habits and diſpoſition^†; except, that it ſeems tamed much more eaſily. Bellonius aſſures us, that he has ſeen them in the houſes at Conſtan⯑tinople as tame as cats; and that they were permitted to run every where about, without doing the leaſt miſchief. For this reaſon they [388] have been called the Cats of Conſtantinople; although they have little elſe in common with that animal, except their ſkill in ſpying out and deſtroying vermin. Naturaliſts pretend that it inhabits only the moiſter grounds, and chiefly reſides along the banks of rivers, having never been found in mountains, nor dry places. The ſpecies is not much diffuſed; it is not to be found in any part of Europe, except Spain and Turky; it requires a warm climate to ſubſiſt and multiply in; and yet it is not to be found in the warmer regions either of India or Africa. From ſuch as have ſeen its uſes at Conſtanti⯑nople, I learn, that it is one of the moſt beau⯑tiful, cleanly, and induſtrious animals in the world; that it keeps whatever houſe it is in, perfectly free from mice and rats, which cannot endure its ſmell. Add to this, its nature is mild and gentle, its colours various and gloſſy, its fur valuable; and, upon the whole, it ſeems to be one of thoſe animals that, with proper care, might be propagated amongſt us, and might become one of the moſt ſerviceable of our domeſtics.

THE CIVET.

PROCEEDING from the ſmaller to the greater of this kind, we come, in the laſt place, [389] to the Civet, which is much larger than any of the former; for as the martin is not above ſix⯑teen inches long, the civet is found to be above thirty. Mr. Buffon diſtinguiſhes this ſpecies into two kinds; one of which he calls the Civet, and the other the Zibet. The latter principally differs from the former in having the body longer and more ſlender, the noſe ſmaller, the ears longer and broader; no mane or long hair running down the back in the latter; and the tail is longer and better marked with rings of different colours, from one end to the other. Theſe are the differences which have induced this great naturaliſt to ſuppoſe them animals of diſtinct ſpecies; and to allot each a ſeparate deſcription. How far future experience may confirm this conjecture, time muſt diſcover; but certain it is, that if ſuch ſmall varieties make a ſeparate claſs, there may be many other animals equally entitled to peculiar diſtinction that now are claſſed together. We ſhall, therefore, content ourſelves, at preſent, with conſidering, as former naturaliſts have done, theſe two merely as varieties of the ſame animal, and only altered in figure, by climate, food, or education.

The civet reſembles animals of the weaſel kind in the long ſlenderneſs of its body, the [390] ſhortneſs of its legs, the odorous matter that exudes from the glands behind, the ſoftneſs of its fur, the number of its claws, and their inca⯑pacity of being ſheathed. It differs from them in being much larger than any hitherto deſcribed; in having the noſe lengthened, ſo as to reſemble that of the fox; the tail long, and tapering to a point; and its ears ſtrait, like thoſe of a cat. The colour of the civet varies: it is com⯑monly aſh, ſpotted with black; though it is whiter in the female, tending to yellow; and the ſpots are much larger, like thoſe of a panther. The colour on the belly, and under the throat, is black; whereas the other parts of the body are black or ſtreaked with grey. This animal varies in its colour, being ſometimes ſtreaked, as in our kind of cats called Tabbies. It has whiſkers, like the reſt of its kind; and its eye is black and beautiful.

The opening of the pouch or bag, which is the receptacle of the civet, differs from that of the reſt of the weaſel kind, not opening into but under the anus. Beſide this opening, which is large, there is ſtill another lower down; but for what purpoſes deſigned, is not known. The pouch itſelf is about two inches and an half broad, and two long; its opening makes a chink, from the top downwards, that is about [391] two inches and an half long; and it is covered on the edges, and within, with ſhort hair: when the two ſides are drawn aſunder, the in⯑ward cavity may be ſeen, large enough to hold a ſmall pullet's egg; all round this are ſmall glands, opening and furniſhing that ſtrong perfume which is ſo well known, and is found, in this pouch, of the colour and conſiſtence of pomatum. Thoſe who make it their buſineſs to breed theſe animals for their perfume, uſu⯑ally take it from them twice or thrice a week, and ſometimes oftener. The animal is kept in a long ſort of a box, in which it cannot turn round. The perſon, therefore, opens this box behind, drags the animal backwards by the tail, keeps it in this poſition by a bar before, and, with a wooden ſpoon, takes the civet from the pouch, as carefully as he can; then lets the tail go, and ſhuts the box again. The perfume, thus procured, is put into a veſſel, which he takes care to keep ſhut; and when a ſufficient quantity is procured, it is ſold to very great advantage.

The civet^†, although a native of the warmeſt climates, is yet found to live in tem⯑perate, and even cold countries, provided it be defended carefully from the injuries of the air. [392] Wherefore, it is not only bred among the Turks, the Indians, and Africans, but great numbers of theſe animals are alſo bred in Hol⯑land, where this ſcraping people make no ſmall gain of its perfume. The perfume of Amſterdam is reckoned the pureſt of any; the people of other countries adulterating it with gums, and other matters, which diminiſh its value, but encreaſe its weight. The quantity which a ſingle animal affords generally depends upon its health and nouriſhment. It gives more in pro⯑portion as it is more delicately and abundantly fed. Raw fleſh, haſhed ſmall, eggs, rice, birds, young fowls, and particularly fiſh, are the kinds of food the civet moſt delights in. Theſe are to be changed and altered, to ſuit and entice its appetite, and continue its health. It gets but very little water; and although it drinks but rarely, yet it makes urine very frequently; and, upon ſuch occaſions, we cannot, as in other animals, diſtinguiſh the male from the female.

The perfume of the civet is ſo ſtrong that it communicates itſelf to all parts of the animal's body; the fur is impregnated thereby, and the ſkin penetrated to ſuch a degree that it con⯑tinues to preſerve the odour for a long time after it is ſtript off. If a perſon be ſhut up with one [393] of them in a cloſe room, he cannot ſupport the perfume, which is ſo copiouſly diffuſed. When the animal is irritated, as in all the weaſel kind, its ſcent is much more violent than ordinary; and if it be tormented ſo as to make it ſweat, this alſo is a ſtrong perfume, and ſerves to adul⯑terate or encreaſe what is otherwiſe obtained from it In general, it is ſold in Holland, for about fifty ſhillings an ounce; though, like all other commodities, its value alters in propor⯑tion to the demand. Civet muſt be choſen new, of a good conſiſtence, a whitiſh colour, and a ſtrong, diſagreeable ſmell. There is ſtill a very conſiderable traffic carried on from Buſſerah, Calicut, and other places in India, where the animal that produces it is bred; from the Levant alſo, from Guinea, and eſpecially from Braſil, in South America, al⯑though Mr. Buffon is of opinion that the ani⯑mal is a native only of the Old Continent, and not to be found wild in the New. The beſt civet, however, is furniſhed, as was obſerved, by the Dutch, though not in ſuch quantities at preſent as ſome years paſt, when this perfume was more in faſhion. Civet is a much more grateful perfume than muſk, to which it has ſome reſemblance; and was ſome years ago uſed for the ſame purpoſes in medicine. But, [394] at preſent, it is quite diſcontinued in pre⯑ſcription; and perſons of taſte or elegance ſeem to proſcribe it even from the toilet. Perfumes, like dreſs, have their viciſſitudes; muſk was in peculiar repute, until diſplaced by civet; both gave ground, upon diſcovering the manner of preparing ambergreaſe; and even this is now difuſed for the leſs powerful vegetable kinds of fragrance, ſpirit of lavender, or otter of roſes.

THE GLUTTON.

I WILL add but one animal more to this numerous claſs of the weaſel kind; namely, the Glutton; which, for ſeveral reaſons, ſeems to belong to this tribe, and this only. We have hitherto had no preciſe deſcription of this quadrupede; ſome reſembling it to a badger, ſome to a fox, and ſome to an hyaena. Lin⯑naeus places it among the weaſels, from the ſimilitude of its teeth; it ſhould ſeem to me to reſemble this animal ſtill more, from the great length of its body, and the ſhortneſs of its legs, from the ſoftneſs of its fur, its diſagreeable ſcent, and its inſatiable appetite for animal food. Mr. Klein, who ſaw one of them which was brought alive from Siberia, aſſures us, that it was about three feet long^*, and about a foot and an half high. If we compare theſe dimenſions with thoſe of other animals, we ſhall find, that they approach more nearly to the claſs we are at [396] preſent deſcribing than any other; and that the glutton may very juſtly be conceived under the form of a great overgrown weaſel. Its noſe, its ears, its teeth, and its long buſhy tail, are entirely ſimilar; and as to what is ſaid of its being rather corpulent than ſlender, it is moſt probable that thoſe who deſcribed it thus ſaw it after eating, at which time its belly we are aſſured is moſt monſtrouſly diſtended: however, ſuſpending all certainty upon this ſubject, I will take leave rather to follow Linnaeus than Buffon in deſcribing this animal; and leave future experience to judge between them.

The glutton, which is ſo called from its vo⯑racious appetite, is an animal found as well in the north of Europe and Siberia, as in the north parts of America, where it has the name of the Carcajou. Amidſt the variety of deſcrip⯑tions which have been given of it, no very juſt idea can be formed of its figure; and, indeed, ſome naturaliſts, among whom was Ray, en⯑tirely doubted of its exiſtence. From the beſt accounts, however, we have of it, the body is thick and long, the legs ſhort; it is black along the back, and of a reddiſh brown on the ſides; its fur is held in the higheſt eſtimation, for its ſoftneſs and beautiful gloſs; the tail is buſhy, like that of the weaſel, but rather ſhorter; and [397] its legs and claws better fitted for climbing trees, than for running along the ground. Thus far it entirely reſembles the weaſel; and its manner of taking its prey is alſo by ſurprize, and not by purſuit.

Scarce any of the animals with ſhort legs and long bodies, purſue their prey; but, know⯑ing their own incapacity to overtake it by ſwiftneſs, either creep upon it in its retreats, or wait in ambuſh, and ſeize it with a bound. The glutton, from the make of its legs, and the length of its body, muſt be particularly ſlow; and, conſequently, its only reſource is in taking its prey by ſurprize. All the reſt of the weaſel kind, from the ſmallneſs of their ſize, are better fitted for a life of inſidious ra⯑pine than this; they can purſue their prey into its retreats, they can lurk unſeen among the branches of trees, and hide themſelves with eaſe under the leaves: but the glutton is too large to follow ſmall prey into their retreats; nor would ſuch, even if obtained, be ſufficient to ſuſtain it. For theſe reaſons, therefore, this animal ſeems naturally compelled to the life for which it has long been remarkable. Its only reſource is to climb a tree, which it does with great eaſe, and there it waits with patience until ſome large animal paſſes underneath, upon [398] which it darts down with unerring certainty, and deſtroys it.

It is chiefly in North America that this vo⯑racious creature is ſeen lurking among the thick branches of trees, in order to ſurprize the deer, with which the extenſive foreſts of that part of the world abound. Endued with a degree of patience equal to its rapacity, the glutton ſingles out ſuch trees as it obſerves marked by the teeth or the antlers of the deer; and is known to remain there watching for ſeveral days together. If it has fixed upon a wrong tree, and finds that the deer have either left that part of the country, or cautiouſly ſhun the place, it reluctantly deſcends, purſues the beaver to its retreat, or even ventures into the water in purſuit of fiſhes. But if it happens that, by long attention, and keeping cloſe, at laſt the elk or the rein-deer happens to paſs that way, it at once darts down upon them, ſticks its claws between their ſhoulders, and remains there unalterably firm. It is in vain that the large frighted animal encreaſes its ſpeed, or threatens with its branching horns; the glut⯑ton having taken poſſeſſion of its poſt, nothing can drive it off; its enormous prey drives ra⯑pidly along amongſt the thickeſt woods, rubs itſelf againſt the largeſt trees and tears down [399] the branches with its expanded horns; but ſtill its inſatiable foe ſticks behind, eating its neck, and digging its paſſage to the great blood-veſſels that lie in that part. Travellers who wander through thoſe deſarts, often ſee pieces of the glutton's ſkin ſticking to the trees, againſt which it was rubbed by the deer. But the animal's voracity is greater than its feelings, and it never ſeizes without bringing down its prey. When, therefore, the deer, wounded, and feeble with the loſs of blood, falls, the glutton is ſeen to make up for its former ab⯑ſtinence, by its preſent voracity. As it is not poſſeſſed of a feaſt of this kind every day, it reſolves to lay in a ſtore to ſerve it for a good while to come. It is indeed amazing how much one of theſe animals can eat at a time! That which was ſeen by Mr. Klein, although without exerciſe or air, although taken from its native climate, and enjoying but an indifferent ſtate of health, was yet ſeen to eat thirteen pounds of fleſh every day, and yet remained unſatisfied. We may, therefore, eaſily conceive how much more it muſt devour at once, after a long faſt, of a food of its own procuring, and in the climate moſt natural to its conſtitution. We are told, accordingly, that from being a lank thin animal, which it naturally is, it then gorges [400] in ſuch quantities, that its belly is diſtended, and its whole figure ſeems to alter. Thus vo⯑raciouſly it continues eating till, incapable of any other animal function, it lies totally torpid by the animal it has killed; and in this ſituation continues for two or three days. In this loath⯑ſome and helpleſs ſtate it finds its chief pro⯑tection from its horrid ſmell, which few ani⯑mals care to come near^*; ſo that it continues eating and ſleeping till its prey be devoured, bones and all; and then it mounts a tree, in queſt of another adventure.

The glutton, like many others of the weaſel kind, ſeems to prefer the moſt putrid fleſh to that newly killed; and ſuch is the voraciouſ⯑neſs of this hateful creature, that, if its ſwiftneſs and ſtrength were equal to its rapacity, it would ſoon thin the foreſt of every other living crea⯑ture. But, fortunately, it is ſo ſlow that there is ſcarce a quadrupede that cannot eſcape it, ex⯑cept the beaver. This, therefore, it very fre⯑quently purſues upon land; but the beaver ge⯑nerally makes good its retreat by taking to the water, where the glutton has no chance to ſuc⯑ceed. This purſuit only happens in ſummer; for in the winter all that remains is to attack the beaver's houſe, as at that time it never ſtirs [401] from home. This attack, however, ſeldom ſucceeds; for the beaver has a covert way bored under the ice, and the glutton has only the trouble and diſappointment of ſacking an empty town.

A life of neceſſity generally produces a good fertile invention. The glutton, continually preſſed by the call of appetite, and having neither ſwiftneſs nor activity to ſatisfy it, is obliged to make up by ſtratagem the defects of nature. It is often ſeen to examine the traps and the ſnares laid for other animals, in order to anticipate the fowlers. It is ſaid to practiſe a thouſand arts to procure its prey, to ſteal upon the retreats of the rein-deer, the fleſh of which animal it loves in preference to all others; to lie in wait for ſuch animals as have been maimed by the hunters; to purſue the iſatis while it is hunting for itſelf; and, when that animal has run down its prey, to come in and ſeize upon the whole, and ſometimes to devour even its poor provider; when theſe purſuits fail, even to dig up the graves, and fall upon the bodies in⯑terred there, devouring them bones and all. For theſe reaſons, the natives of the countries where the glutton inhabits, hold it in utter deteſtation, and uſually term it the vulture of quadrupedes. And yet, it is extraordinary enough, that, being [402] ſo very obnoxious to man, it does not ſeem to fear him^*. We are told by Gemelin of one of theſe coming up boldly and calmly where there were ſeveral perſons at work, without teſtifying the ſmalleſt apprehenſion, or attempting to run until it had received ſeveral blows, that at laſt totally diſabled it. In all probability it came among them ſeeking its prey; and, having been uſed to attack animals of inferior ſtrength, it had no idea of a force ſuperior to its own. The glutton, like all the reſt of its kind, is a ſolitary animal; and is never ſeen in company except with its female, with which it couples in the midſt of winter. The latter goes with young about four months, and brings forth two or three at a time^†. They burrow in holes as the weaſel; and the male and female are ge⯑nerally found together, both equally reſolute in defence of their young. Upon this occaſion the boldeſt dogs are afraid to approach them; they fight obſtinately and bite moſt cruelly. However, as they are unable to eſcape by flight, the hunters come in to the aſſiſtance of the dogs, and eaſily overpower them. Their fleſh, it may readily be ſuppoſed, is not fit to be eaten; but the ſkins amply recompence the hunters for their toil and danger. The fur has [403] the moſt beautiful luſtre that can be imagined, and is preferred before all others, except that of the Siberian fox, or the ſable. Among other peculiarities of this animal, Linnaeus informs us, that it is very difficult to be ſkinned; but from what cauſe, whether its abominable ſtench, or the ſkin's tenacity to the fleſh, he has not thought fit to inform us.