It was a playful little thing and a great favorite with the other

monkeys, who looked on it as the pet of the family, treating it with a

kindly feeling which they did not often show for one another. It became

sick at length, of a disease that prevailed in the ship, and then their

kindness and tenderness were doubled. He says:

"It was truly affecting and interesting to see with what anxiety and

tenderness they tended and nursed the little creature. A struggle often

ensued among them for priority in these offices of affection, and some

would steal one thing and some another which they would carry to it

untasted, however tempting it might be to their own palates. Then they

would take it up gently in their fore-paws, hug it to their breasts,

and cry over it as a fond mother would over her suffering child.

"The little creature seemed sensible of their kind attention, but it

was sadly overcome by sickness. It would sometimes come to me and look

me pitifully in the face and moan and cry like an infant, as if it

besought me to give it relief; and we did everything we could think of

to restore it to health; but in spite of the united attention of its

kindred tribes and ourselves the interesting little creature did not

survive long."

Sir James Malcolm tells us of two monkeys on shipboard, one older and

larger than the other. They were not related, but merely friends, but

were very fond of each other. One day the small monkey fell overboard.

The older one was in a great excitement. It ran to the part of the ship

which is called "the bend," held on to the side of the vessel with one

hand, and dropped down to the other the end of a cord with which it had

been tied up and which was fastened round its waist. Every one looked

on with surprise at this display of monkey wit, but the cord was too

short and the little one swept by. It is pleasant, however, to be able

to say that it was saved by a sailor, who threw it a longer rope, which

it seized and was drawn on board.

The monkey becomes as fond of its human friends as it is of those of

its own race. Often it does not like certain people, and has its own

way of showing this, but there are others whom it seems to love warmly.

This faculty does not belong only to monkeys, but may be seen in dogs

and other animals. But it is often strongly shown by the monkey.

Darwin tells of a keeper in the London Zoölogical Garden, who one day

was attacked by a savage baboon. In the cage was a little American

monkey, a great friend of the keeper, but very much afraid of the

great baboon. But when the poor little thing saw its friend in peril

it sprang at once to the rescue and by screams and bites so distracted

the baboon that the keeper was able to escape. The little monkey quite

forgot its fear of the fierce beast when it saw its friend in danger.

We rarely think what depth of feeling such an animal as the monkey may

have. There are cases in which none of ourselves could show greater

feeling. Here is a case in point.

On board a war-vessel that was going to Persia was a pet monkey of the

captain, a gentle, kindly little creature that was made much of by

every one on the ship. But like all of its kind it was not free from

love of mischief. There was a goat kept on board to supply milk for the

use of a government official on the ship. One morning it was found that

the monkey had tied the goat to the tackle of a gun and milked it into

the stiff hat of a marine.

The little culprit was caught in the act and taken to the captain, who

to punish it gave orders that no one on board should take notice of it

for a week. The loving little thing did not know what to make of this.

It went about from friend to friend, looking up to them wistfully, but

not getting a word or a kind look from any of them. It put on its most

coaxing airs, but all in vain. For two days it bore this, but on the

morning of the third, finding that it was still in disgrace, its tender

heart was quite broken. It sprang on the bulwarks, put its hands over

its head, gave one pitiful cry and leaped into the sea. It was seen no

more.

To be fond of mischief and of playing jokes is a common trait in

monkeys as it is in boys. This likeness is shown by the tricks of boys

being called "Monkey tricks." Perhaps they would not play them if they

knew that they were putting themselves on the level of the monkey.

Stories of this tendency are common enough. Here is one told of a young

chimpanzee who bore the familiar name of Tommy, and who lived in a cage

in the Zoölogical Garden of London.

Master Tommy did not at all approve of tricks that were played upon

himself, though he was very fond of playing them on others. Thus one

day when a carpenter had to enter his cage to make some changes the

little joker was in his element. He played all kinds of tricks on

the workman, such as pulling his hair, snatching off his paper cap,

stealing his tools, and even trying to trip him up. All the time he put

on an air of innocence and only came up when he thought he was not

seen. The moment the joke was played he retreated to the other end of

the cage, where he seemed very much interested in something else.

In the end, when the carpenter had his back to him, Master Tommy could

not resist the temptation, but sprang on the man's shoulders and gave

him such a sound box on the ears that the keeper, who had been enjoying

the fun, had to interfere and make the little rascal behave himself.

On another occasion Tommy in some way got a small dog into his cage,

and had the time of his life with the little victim. He pulled its ears

and tail till the dog lost its temper and began to show its teeth. At

this Master Tommy pretended to be very indignant, and lifted his hand

in a threatening way, as if to chastise doggie for his impudence. He

would do the same with children if he got a chance, pulling their hair

or clothes or scratching them.

In fact, he was a little imp of mischief, yet had been taught to be

very neat and nice in his habits, to pick his teeth, clean his nails,

and do other acts supposed to belong to the human race. Like man also

he could walk erect, jump on his hind feet and dance in the stamping

fashion of a child a few years old, though with greater force.

We must close our stories of monkey wit and wisdom with one that comes

from South Africa, of a monkey that acted as signal man on a railroad.

This is the story, as told in _Chambers' Journal_.

"We had a remarkably intelligent baboon here a few years ago. He was a

giant of his species. His master and trainer had the misfortune to have

both his legs cut off in a railway accident, and on his leaving the

hospital the Cape government gave him a berth as signal man. He taught

this baboon not only to work the signals, but to place the wheels of a

little trolley on the line, and then the bed on the wheels. His master

would then seat himself on the trolley and Jocko would push him along

to his house, about two hundred yards down the line. He would then

detach the pieces of the trolley and clear them off the line. He would

also lock the door of the signal-box and take the key to his master."

[Illustration]

VIII

OTHER ANIMALS USED AS PETS

We have now gone far and near among the animals kept by man, have seen

them at work and at play, on farm and on road, in doors and out of

doors, some helping him, some amusing him, some supplying him with food

and clothes. But so far we have kept among the animals of common use.

There are others not so often kept and at some of these we must take a

passing glance before we finish our journey.

Man, you know, is only one among many thousands of kinds of animals

which dwell upon the earth. These are found everywhere, from the hot

equator almost to the frozen poles. The most of them, of course, live

in warm regions, but away up in the seas of ice may be seen creatures

clad in thick wool and fur and finding food under the snows. So there

is hardly any part of the earth without its living beings.

Some of these animals are so savage that man rarely tries to tame them.

The fierce lion and tiger, the ferocious grizzly bear, the huge and

stupid rhinoceros, and many others of the same wild sort are shown us

at times in menageries. But we look at them through the iron bars of

their cages. If any of them should get out of the cage we would hasten

to get out of the show.

Even these fierce animals at times grow tame enough for men and women

to go into their cages and teach them some simple tricks. But they are

never safe to deal with, and we are always glad to see the tamers of

lions and other wild beasts come out of the cages alive.

It is not such creatures as these that man makes use of. He has picked

out those of gentle nature, the grass eaters, not the flesh eaters. The

dog and cat, it is true, are flesh eaters, but the dog is an animal

that is easily tamed and becomes one of man's best friends. As for the

cat, it rarely becomes quite tame. Its wildwood ways cling to it still.

Animals fitted for man's use are found in all parts of the earth, but

the tame ones mostly came from Europe and Asia, the countries in which

civilization first began. Here are the native places of the horse and

the cow, the sheep, goat and pig, the hen, duck and goose, and nearly

all the other animals found about our homes.

There is no continent with a greater variety of animals than Africa,

but few of these have been tamed, and this mostly in the civilized

north, for the people of that continent have long been in a savage or

barbarian state, and have been hunters instead of tamers of animals.

It has been the same in America. When white men came here they brought

their home animals with them and there was no need to tame those found

in this new continent. The only ones tamed by the Indians were the dog

and the Peruvian llama, and nearly the only one added by the white man

has been the turkey. The rest of our animals, like our forefathers

themselves, came from abroad.

Though we have dealt with the chief animals kept by man, for use or as

pets, there are many others which have been at times tamed and made

into friends and comrades, and it may be well to speak of such of these

as seem of most interest.

Men and women have a natural love for pets and sometimes pick out very

odd ones. You know what the flea is--or if you do not know it is all

the better, for the flea's way of making itself known is by biting. Yet

even these small pests have been taught to do things, such as being

harnessed to little carriages, which they drag about in a way to please

those who are near enough to see them.

A strong little insect is the flea. It can leap, we are told, two

hundred times its length, while few of us can jump twice our length.

And it can pull a heavy weight for a creature of its size. But it is

not tamed nor taught. It is simply tied fast and pulls to get loose,

and in this way draws its carriage. So to talk about learned fleas is

to talk nonsense and most of us would be satisfied if there were no

such thing as a flea.

There are other insects which man has at times taken under his care,

the ant, for instance, and some others. But these also are not tamed,

they are simply studied and made use of in various ways. When we talk

of taming animals we must come to those of a higher order, such as the

birds and the four-footed creatures. We speak at times of the fish

being tamed, but this is only from its losing its fear of man and

taking food from his hands. It has not brain power enough for much more

than this.

Yet man at times makes a pet of the fish, which he keeps in the little

table pond called the aquarium as he keeps his bird pets in the cage,

and of these fish pets a few words may be said.

PETS OF THE AQUARIUM

The aquarium is a very pretty piece of furniture for the lovers of

animal life, for a variety of water-living things can be kept in it

alike for study and pleasure. Plants are needed of various kinds, to

give beauty to the collection and keep the water in a fit state for the

fish, for animal life and plant life need to go together. The plant

gives off oxygen for the fish to breathe.

There are a number of other small animals kept in the aquarium, such as

the tadpole, the water-beetle and several kinds of fresh-water snails.

But it is the fish that gives life and action to the parlor pond.

Swimming in its little lake, now up, now down, darting nimbly about,

with its bright scales glistening in the sun, it is always a pretty and

attractive object.

[Illustration:

From D. M. Smith's Japanese Gold Fish

The Fantail. The Japanese have had wonderful success in changing the

form of the gold fish]

A favorite among all cage-fish, if I may so call the pets of the

aquarium, is the gold fish, with its bright golden scales, flashing as

it darts about. This fish is of Chinese origin and belongs to the carp

family. It is apt to vary, not only in color but in its fins and tail,

the fins being sometimes double and the tails at times triple. Some of

them change till they look very odd, and have long, wide, lace-like

tails, strange but pretty. Some of the gold fish lose their color and

grow white and are then known as silver fish.

The common carp is not as handsome as its cousin, the gold fish, and is

apt to grow too large for the aquarium. Those who choose to keep it

may have it all their lives and leave it to those who follow, for it is

said to live from one hundred to two hundred years.

There are many other fish well fitted for the aquarium, such as the

gudgeon, the roach, the tench, and the perch. But the perch can be kept

only while young and small, as it is a fish eater and has an appetite

that will soon leave it few of the other fish for company.

One must not forget the minnow among the dwellers in the glass house.

This little, lively fellow is well fitted to live in close quarters and

no fish does better in the home fish-pond. It is a pretty little thing,

with olive back and silvery belly, which sometimes becomes bright red.

After a little time the minnow will grow very bold and tame enough to

come to the edge of the tank at the sound of a familiar voice and take

its morsel of food from between the thumb and finger.

Among the fish kept in the aquarium must be named the stickleback, the

nest-builder of the fish tribe. This little fish resembles the bird in

building a nest, laying its eggs in it, and watching them with great

care until they are hatched out. The stickleback is a pretty little

fellow, but, like the perch, not safe to keep among other small fish,

as he has the bad habit of feeding on them, so that he soon has the

aquarium to himself.

Dr. Lankaster says of him: "He has all the ways of other fishes and

many others besides. Look into your tank; see, there is one larger than

the rest; he is clothed in a coat of mail like a knight of old, and it

is resplendent with purple and gold. He is a male fish and the king of

your little shoal. He has important offices to perform. In the course

of a few days, if you watch him and are fortunate, you will see this

wonderful little fish engaged, in the most useful manner, in building a

nest.

"He seizes hold of one little bit of weed, then of another, and carries

them all to some safe corner, till at last his nest is built. Having

done this, he gently allures his mate to their new-made home. Here she

deposits her eggs, and having done this resigns the care of them to

our hero of the purple and gold, who watches over them with an anxiety

that no male in creation but the male stickleback seems to know. He

fans and freshens the water with his fins, and at last, when the young

are hatched, watches over their attempts at swimming with the greatest

anxiety."

SNAKE CHARMERS

From the fish let us turn to the snake, a gliding creature without

limbs and without joints. It is much like one of the fishes, the eel,

in shape, but not in anything else, while no other animal is so much

feared and hated by man. We hate this creeping reptile from the fact

that a few species of snakes carry a deadly poison in their teeth,

and the strongest of men, bitten by one of these, has often only a few

minutes to live.

It is this that makes man a bitter foe of the snake and quick to kill

any one he sees, whether it has a poisoned tooth or not. He fears it

and hates it and has made up his mind that he and the snake are not fit

to live together on the same earth.

This is not fair to the snakes, for only a few of them are poison

bearers. Most of them are as harmless as rabbits and can be handled as

safely. But the cry of "a snake" is almost as bad as the cry of "a mad

dog," and even so gentle a little thing as the garter snake has usually

a short lease of life if seen by man or boy.

Not quite everybody has this foolish fear of all snakes, the good

and the bad alike, for there are some who make pets of them. And

snakes thus petted become very tame and grow fond of those who take

care of them. This is the case even with the huge python and the

boa-constrictor, the greatest of all snakes. They are not poisonous,

but when they wind their body in strong coils around an animal, even

one of good size, they can soon crush the life out of it.

Many stories might be given of tame snakes and it may be well to quote

one of these as told by Mr. Romanes in his "Animal Intelligence." He

had it from Mr. Severn, an artist, who tells of a call he made on

a Mr. and Mrs. Mann, two snake-lovers who were much blamed by their

neighbors for keeping these crawling creatures.

When Mr. Severn called he was asked by Mr. Mann if he was afraid of

snakes. He said, in a timid way, "No, not very," and his host took out

of a cupboard a large boa-constrictor, a python, and a number of small

snakes, which at once made themselves at home on the writing table

among pens, ink and books.

Mr. Severn's eyes opened very wide when he saw the two big snakes

looking at him with their bright eyes and thrusting out their forked

tongues, and they opened wider still when he saw the great serpents

coil round and round the body of his friend. But when he found that

they were very tame and would do no harm he lost his sense of fright.

After some time Mr. Mann went out to call his wife, leaving the boa on

an arm chair. The other snakes were put away. The visitor now began to

feel rather queer, the more so when he saw the great serpent creeping

slowly towards him. He was glad enough when Mr. and Mrs. Mann came in,

bringing their two children. The lady and the children went at once

to the boa, called it by loving names, and let it twine itself around

them. We give the rest in Mr. Severn's own words:

"I sat talking for a long time, lost in wonder at the picture before

me. Two beautiful little girls with their charming mother sat before

me with a boa-constrictor (as thick round as a small tree) twining

playfully round the lady's waist and neck and forming a kind of turban

round her head, expecting to be petted and made much of like a kitten.

The children over and over again took its head in their hands and

kissed its mouth, pushing aside its forked tongue in doing so.

"The animal seemed much pleased, but kept turning its head towards me

with a curious gaze, until I allowed it to nestle its head for a moment

up my sleeve. Nothing could be prettier than to see this splendid

serpent coiled all around Mrs. Mann while she moved about the room and

when she stood to pour out our coffee. He seemed to adjust his weight

so nicely, and every coil with its beautiful marking was relieved by

the black velvet dress of the lady.... The snakes seemed very obedient,

and remained in the cupboard when told to do so.

"About a year ago Mr. and Mrs. Mann were away for six weeks and left

the boa in charge of a keeper at the Zoo. The poor reptile moped,

slept, and refused to be comforted, but when his master and mistress

appeared he sprang upon them with delight, coiling himself around them,

and showing every symptom of intense delight."

Is not this a pretty story of snake taming! Others might be told, for

these animals, like others, learn to know and love those who care for

them and treat them well.

Would you like to know something more about these great snakes? Many

stories are told of them, but the trouble is that these are not all

true. Thus we are told of pythons forty feet long and able to kill and

swallow a goat or antelope, horns and all. The fact is, that they are

never seen more than twenty feet long, usually little more than ten.

And though they can kill a goat or antelope, they cannot swallow any

animal larger than a small dog.

The python and the boa-constrictor are much alike, but they do not live

in the same countries, the python dwelling in the Old World and the boa

in the New World. They lurk near water, hiding in the bushes or in the

trees, where they are ready to seize small animals that come to drink.

These they slowly swallow. Winding their tails around the limb of a

tree, they can hang down and seize any animal passing beneath.

But it was not these big snakes, but the doings of the snake charmers,

I set out to talk about and to this I must return. We hear of snakes

being charmed as we hear of forty foot pythons, but the fact is that

there seems to be no charming of the snake at all. When the snake goes

through what is called "dancing" one would suppose it had been trained.

We know that this is not the case from the fact that the moment a snake

has been captured a snake-charmer is able to make it "dance."

[Illustration:

Reproduced by Permission of the Philadelphia Museum

Hindu Snake Charmers with the Deadly Cobras]

What is called the snake dance is a natural habit of the cobra, which

raises its head and one-third of its body above the ground and sways

about in the air while the charmer is playing on his pipe. The cobra

has poor sight and poor hearing and certainly no ear for music. What it

lifts itself in this way for is a chance to strike its enemy. It can

strike only with the part of its body that is lifted up and this the

charmer knows and can easily keep out of reach.

The cobra is a very deadly serpent. It kills thousands of persons every

year in India with its fatal bite. Yet it can be tamed and taught to

make itself at home. It can even be made to take the part of a house

dog. At any rate Major Skinner, an English officer in India, tells us

this snake tale:

"In one family near Negombo cobras are kept as protectors in the place

of dogs, by a wealthy man who has always large sums of money in his

house, and this is not a solitary case of the kind.... The snakes glide

about the house, a terror to the thieves, but never attempting to harm

the inmates."

So it seems that even the deadly cobra is not as black as it is

painted, but can be tamed and made a friend of by man. When the

snake-charmer wants a new snake he plays on his pipe near places in

which serpents are apt to hide, and the cobra and other snakes come out

and are caught. Sometimes the poison fangs are drawn out of the snake's

jaws, but often they are not, the charmers knowing how to avoid being

bitten. If bitten, they know how to take care of a bite.

Here is a story told by a Mr. Reyne, who tried to learn the truth about

the snake charmers. He made one of these men go with him into the

jungle, after finding that he had no snakes hidden under his clothes.

As these Hindus wear very little clothing, this was easy to do.

In the jungle was a tall ant-hill in which Mr. Reyne knew that a large

cobra made its home. Here the man played his pipe, and soon the cobra

came gliding out, as if charmed by the music. Mr. Reyne goes on to say:

"On seeing the man it tried to escape, but he caught it by the tail and

kept swinging it around until we reached the bungalow. He then made it

dance, but before long it bit him above the knee. He at once bandaged

the leg above the bite and applied a snake-stone to the wound to draw

out the poison. He was in great pain for a few minutes but after that

it gradually went away, the stone falling off just before he was

relieved."

Thus it may be seen that a snake can be made to dance the instant it

is caught and before it can have any lessons in dancing. The dancing

is only a movement made by the serpent when it is alarmed and rises to

defend itself.

As for the taming of snakes, it is not very hard to do. The snakes must

get used to the sight of man by seeing them often, as when kept in a

cage where people pass or stop to look in. And when thus used to see

man, they may be handled freely at all times except just after a meal.

But those who handle them must be careful not to touch their necks or

tails, for these are tender parts of the snake. Thus treated, they

soon grow tame. Of course, some are much more savage than others, and

any one who wants to own a tame snake had better leave the poisonous

kinds alone.

THE MONGOOSE AND OTHER SMALL ANIMALS

As I have now told the story of the snake, it is well to give a little

time to one of the snake's chief enemies, the little weasel-like animal

known in Egypt as the Ichneumon and in India as the Mongoose. Larger

than a cat, but with a long, slender body, and very quick in its

movements, the ichneumon is death to snakes. I cannot say that it is

proof against the snake's bite, but it jumps about in so lively a way

that the snake gets no chance to bite it, and when it once gets its

teeth in the snake's hide it soon puts an end to his career.

This little animal is also death to crocodiles. But you must not think

that it deals with the crocodile as it does with the snake. The fact

is that it is very fond of the crocodile's eggs, and by digging these

out of the sand and eating them it is of much use in cutting down the

crocodile crop.

It is easily tamed and becomes a house pet, doing much to keep the

house free from rats and mice. Its worst fault is that it loves poultry

and is hard to keep out of the chicken coop. The ichneumon has a pretty

fashion of squatting down and eating out of its fore-paws like a

squirrel. When it sleeps it coils up into a round ball, with its head

and tail under its belly.

[Illustration: The Mongoose. The Deadly Foe of Snakes and Rats]

The mongoose is a little smaller than the ichneumon, but it is like it

in other ways. Not many years ago some of these animals were brought to

the island of Jamaica, where rats in the sugar-cane fields were giving

the planters a great deal of trouble by gnawing the cane. For a time

all went well. The mongoose went for the rats and soon these gnawers

grew very few. The planters thought they had done a good thing in the

way of saving their sugar-cane.

In time the mongoose was to be seen everywhere and hardly any rats were

left. Then the hungry little strangers had to look for food elsewhere

and found it in the poultry-yard. The chickens began to follow the

rats. Nowadays the planters look on the mongoose as a worse pest even

than the rat and would like very much to get rid of their late friend,

who makes it very hard to keep chickens and any kind of poultry. They

would be glad to find some animal that would serve the mongoose as the

mongoose served the rat.

A very tamable little creature is the mongoose, and a very active one

also, for it is never still for a minute except when asleep. It is not

always hungry, like some other tame animals, but soon gets enough food.

But when it does want something to eat it wants it badly and will walk

around on its hind legs in man-like fashion after its keeper, and climb

up his body till he gives it the food and drink it needs.

The mongoose always wants to know. He must have his nose in everything

he sees. He is all the time looking for something new. He would make a

good scholar if sent to school. We are told of one that had his doll,

his pet rabbit, his toy monkey, all stuffed, and these he played with

till the stuffing all came out. If they were stuffed again he would

go back to his play. One day he was given a Japanese paper snake and

he went for that snake as if it was a live one. First he bit it in

two. Then he bit the halves into quarters. Before he let the snake go

there was not a piece left big enough for a bite. The little chap knew

somehow that he was a born snake killer.

When he could find nothing else to do he would climb into the window

and view with delight all that went on outside, the cat, the dog, the

horse, the milkman, everything. A game of tennis would hold him quiet

for hours, for he was fond of ball play himself and very good at it.

When he could find nothing to do or to see he would wander about like a

lost lamb, and as a last resort would coil up in his master's lap and

go to sleep.

He had no fancy for being locked up in a cage, as had to be done at

times, and he let people know this. If a friend of his came into the

room where he was caged he would begin to cry like a cat, his voice

growing loud and shrill if no notice was taken of him. In a minute more

he would be flying around the cage in a fury, tearing up his bedding

and flinging it to all quarters. If this had no effect his voice would

sink into a wail of despair which it was hard to resist.

But the instant he was taken out all his rage and grief were at an end.

He would cuddle up in his master's arms, lay his head lovingly on his

cheek and coo and crow away in deep delight.

Leaving the mongoose, we may take a look in upon some other four-footed

creatures that make good pets. Among these are such as the chameleon,

the odd lizard that has the power to take on a new color whenever it

gets tired of the old one; the armadillo, which wears a coat of mail

and can roll itself up into a ball that no teeth can bite into; the

hedgehog, another little creature that rolls up into a ball with sharp

spines sticking out on all sides; the porcupine, that does the same

thing and has much longer spines; in fact, almost all kinds of small

animals, even those we call house vermin, the rat and the mouse.

We might fancy that pet-lovers would draw a line at rats and mice, but

these have often been tamed, at least the white rat and mouse, which

some people like for their color. The rat makes a better pet than the

mouse, for it is very quick-witted, while the mouse is apt to be dull.

Among animal stories there is one we are told about a white rat that

seems worth telling.

The owner of this rat found it to be clean, loving and very lively.

Like all rats it had the habit of laying up a store of food for future

use, and when it found a supply would never stop till it had carried it

all away. It was funny to watch it. If a plate of biscuits was put upon

the table with no one near by, it would carry them away, one at a time,

till not a biscuit was left. They would all be taken to its nesting

place, across the room, and laid away for future use.

If it got hold of a hunk of bread too heavy to carry up to its elevated

nest, this did not stop its work. It would sit on the floor and gnaw

the bread into small bits, carrying those up one at a time. It was fond

of warming itself before a coal fire, and seemed to take the fancy that

coal was a good thing to have, for it carried it off a piece at a time

till it had a store of this hard stuff a foot wide and five or six

inches deep.

Very likely many of you have read about how rats will carry off eggs,

even taking them down stairs without an egg being broken. It takes two

rats to do this, one passing the egg down to the other on the step

below. They have even been seen to take eggs up stairs. One rat catches

the egg between its fore-paws and its head, and gets up on its hind

legs, passing it up to the other, who catches it in its fore-paws. Then

they go up another step and keep at this till the top is reached. They

are very fond of oil, and when they find bottles of oil have a cute way

of their own to get it. First gnawing off the cover, the rat sticks its

tail down into the oil, pulls it up well covered, and licks off the

oil. Sometimes they take turns, each handing down its tail for another

rat to lick. You may see from this that the rat is a very wide-awake

little nuisance.

The tame rat we have been speaking of died in good time and a hedgehog

became his master's next pet. Have you ever seen a hedgehog? Some of

you have, no doubt; but for those who have not I would say that it is a

little creature that lives in a hole in the ground or in trees or rocks

and comes out at night to feed on mice, frogs, insects and such like

prey.

The hedgehog is about a foot long and six inches high, with small black

eyes and sharp-pointed head. The odd thing about it is the fact that

where most animals are covered with hair this one is covered with

spines, hard and sharp, like little thorns. These grow to be about an

inch long and there are muscles in the back that cause them to stand up

and stick out in all directions.

[Illustration: The Common Hedgehog with his Battery of Spines]

When a dog gets busy about a hedgehog, it does not try to run away. All

it does is to roll itself up into a ball, its head and tail meeting

over its lower parts and its spines sticking up all around. When the

dog gets these into his nose a few times he is apt to lose his taste

for hedgehog meat. He may roll the animal about with his paws, but that

does no good, and he soon goes away with sore head and paws, leaving

the hedgehog to unroll and make its way back to its burrow.

When taken home and fed it soon becomes very tame and friendly. It

can be handled with safety, for when it is not rolled up its spines

lie flat along its back, so that its friends can stroke its back and

scratch its nose without harm. These it likes to have done. When it is

put on a table it does not a bit mind taking a dive to the floor, for

it rolls up so to fall on its spines and thus is not hurt.

A tame hedgehog is a good thing to keep in a garden or kitchen, for it

helps to clear the one of worms and the other of roaches and sometimes

will catch and kill a rat. It is not afraid to attack snakes, even

poisonous ones like the viper. The poison does not seem to do it any

harm.

I have spoken of the armadillo as a pet and as an animal that rolls

itself into a ball like the hedgehog. Instead of spines, it has a

covering of hard, bony plates, which cover the whole body, even the

tail. When it rolls itself up it is like a hard stone and can laugh

within its coat of mail at the enemies which roll it about but cannot

get in.

The armadillo is an American animal, and is found in our country in the

state of Texas. It goes south from there through Mexico and on to South

America, where it is found everywhere. It lives in large numbers in the

woods and on the great grass plains. In its food and habits it is much

like the hedgehog, and like it burrows in the ground. To do this it has

very strong claws, and these it can use to defend itself when it takes

a fancy to fight.

The same person who kept the white rat I have spoken of also had a pet

armadillo, though the two were not very good friends. The armadillo was

very quick in its motions and the first time it saw the rat it went

for it like a lightning flash. The rat was one of the kind of vermin it

fed on in its natural state and it thought here was a good chance for a

feast. In a minute it had the rat driven into a corner where there was

no hole or hiding place and where it stood up as if praying with its

paws in the air. In a minute more the armadillo would have made mince

meat of the rat with its sharp claws, but its master just then came to

the rescue, and saved his pet rat.

[Illustration: The Three-banded Armadillo. An Animal in a Coat of

Mail]

In the end he punished the armadillo by making a little wagon in which

he made it draw the rat about as a passenger.

His armadillo, he tells us, was a famous sleeper, lying asleep about

twenty-three hours out of the twenty-four. But in its wakeful hour it

was very active and lively. It loved to lie before the fire, but if

turned over on its back and scratched it grew furious. It could not

turn itself back again much easier than a turtle.

The one thing that threw it into a panic was a sudden noise. If, for

instance, the poker was thrown down, the scared animal would make a

bee-line for its home, and if it missed the mark would tumble around

in a fright till it found the entrance to its cage. When it got used

to the noise of the poker any other noise would set it off in the same

way, and it never got over its panic at a strange and sudden noise.

So many kinds of animals have been tamed at times that I cannot speak

of them all. But I must not forget our familiar little friend, the

squirrel, one of the prettiest and liveliest of tree-dwellers. To see

him seated, with bushy tail curled up over his back, and gnawing away

at a nut held between his fore-paws, is to see one of nature's most

charming sights. And he is a tameable little creature, easy to keep and

to feed, and very pleasing in his ways.

There are many kinds of squirrels, but all of them may be tamed.

They need a cage of good size, and a usual feature of the cage is a

revolving wheel or cylinder of zinc wire, a sort of tread-mill in which

the active little fellow may take all the exercise he wants, making it

spin round at a great speed. He needs a snug little ante-room, to which

he may retire when tired of his wheel. Any kind of nut will be welcome

as food, and even a stale crust of bread or a bit of boiled potato,

all of which he will gnaw in his funny way.

[Illustration: A Friendly Gray Squirrel]

Many stories of tame squirrels could be told. Here is one which we owe

to a Captain Brown. I give it both for its neatness and its odd ending.

It is of a tame squirrel that used to run up its master's leg and pop

into his pocket whenever it saw him getting ready to go out. As he

went through the streets it would keep in his pocket, sticking its

head out in a saucy way to took at people passing. As soon as the

outskirts of the town were reached and trees and bushes became common,

out of the pocket it would pop, down the leg it would scramble, and up

the trees it would climb, nibbling away at the bark and leaves. If its

master started on, down it would come and climb back to his pocket. If

a cart or carriage came by it would hide till they had passed, for it

was timid with any one but its master.

It was not a good friend with the house dog and this seems to have been

bunny's fault, for he had a fashion of his own of teasing the dog. If

it lay down and went off into a snooze, down would come the squirrel,

scamper over its body, and dart off to its cage again before the dog

had time to growl or snap.

This squirrel--or it may have been another squirrel which had the same

fancy of hiding in its master's pocket--had one night an adventure in

which it served its master as well as any watch-dog could have done.

The gentleman who kept it used, when he came home at night, to hang

his coat behind one of the downstairs doors. This made a neat sleeping

place for the squirrel, who would climb up to the pocket, taking some

tow with him for bedding.

One night, after the family and the squirrel alike had gone to bed,

a burglar made his way into the house and began to peer around for

plunder. Seeing the coat hanging on the door, he began with that,

putting his hand into the pocket. In an instant he drew it out again

with a cry of pain. He had got a sudden bite from the squirrel's sharp

teeth. At the noise the man of the house sprang up, seized a poker and

ran down stairs. He was in time to capture the burglar, who was just

climbing out of the window.

HAWKING OR FALCONRY

Perhaps you have read enough about tame animals of the four-footed

kind. At any rate it will be well to turn now to the two-footed kind,

the birds, and talk about a kind of sport in which birds have been used

for many centuries. Nowadays, when one of us goes hunting, we take our

shot-gun or rifle, with the dog for companion, and bring down the game

with a bullet or load of shot. But long ago, before the gun was known,

there was another way of catching game, and of this I wish to speak.

It is called Hawking or Falconry, and is a very old sport in which the

falcon or the hawk was used to take game. It is still in use in some

countries, but in old times falconry was the favorite sport of kings

and nobles, many of whom spent much of their time in the field, hunting

smaller or weaker birds by aid of the strong and swift falcon or hawk.

This kind of sport began very long ago, no one can say how long, it

being common in Asia long before it was known in Europe. And it is

common in some parts of Asia still.

[Illustration: A Hooded Peregrine Falcon. Its eyes are covered by the

hood until the game is in sight]

Bishop Stanley says: "About two thousand years ago ancient writers

speak of hawking as a common sport. People used to go out into the

marshy grounds and beat among the reeds and bushes for small birds, and

as these flew away hawks were let loose in pursuit, and when the game

fell to the ground, either through fright or struck by the hawks, men

ran up and secured them.

"In China it is a favorite sport with some of the mandarins to hawk

for butterflies and other large insects with birds trained for that

particular pastime. In India the Goshawk and two other species are

taught to keep hovering over the hunters' heads and when deer and other

game start up, they dart down and fix their claws upon its head and

thus bewilder it until it is secured. A certain sultan kept a corps of

seven thousand falconers."

The Arabians used the falcon to hunt the goat. When a rock goat was

seen on a mountain the falcon would be let loose and would fly like

an arrow straight for the animal, lighting on its back and fixing its

talons in its throat. It held fast until the huntsman came up to the

weakened animal and cut its throat, the falcon being paid for its

service by drinking the blood.

Falconry is still common in Persia and is much spoken of in the poetry

and stories of the Persians. One of these stories is worth telling,

both from its being a very pretty one and from its being like a famous

story of ancient Wales. In the Welsh story, which we have in a fine

ballad, Prince Llewellyn had a faithful dog named Gellert which he left

in charge of his infant child. During the absence of the prince a wolf

entered the house and was attacked and killed by the dog. When he came

home he saw the cradle upset and blood all over the floor, and thinking

that the dog had killed his child he plunged his sword into its side. A

minute later he saw the child safe under the cradle and the wolf lying

dead. He was sorry enough when he saw this, but all he could do was to

build a monument over his faithful dog.

Stories like this were common in the past, with other animals than the

dog and the wolf. In old Persia it was the hawk and the snake. We are

told of a Persian king who went out hunting with his favorite falcon

on his wrist. After a time a deer started up and was pursued by the

falcon, and was in time brought down and killed.

In chasing it, the king had left all his people in the rear and now

found himself alone. He was also hot and thirsty and finding some water

trickling down a mountain side, he filled his cup with it, but very

slowly, as the water came down only in drops. He was about to drink it

when the falcon struck the cup with its wings and spilt the water.

Vexed at this, the king filled the cup again and once more raised it to

his lips. Again the falcon flapped its wings and the water was spilled.

This made the king so angry that he flung the bird to the ground and

killed it on the spot.

At this moment one of his attendants came up and the king, who was too

thirsty to wait again until the cup was filled drop by drop, gave it to

the man and told him to climb up and fill it at the spring. The man

did so, but as he came down he saw a large serpent lying dead with its

head in the water, into which a poisonous foam flowed from its lips.

When he came down and told of what he had seen the king was deeply

grieved, for he had killed the faithful bird which was seeking to save

him from death or danger.

Coming now to later times we find that hawking made its way from Asia

into Europe very long ago. Denmark was a famous place for this sport in

the far past and it was common in France and England at least as early

as the 10th century. The kings of those countries grew very fond of it.

When Edward III. of England went to fight in France he took with him

thirty falconers and hunted or hawked every day, and Henry VIII. at one

time nearly lost his life when out hawking. In recent times it has died

away in great part, but is still practiced in some countries.

Such is the history of hawking. Now a few words may be said about

the practice. The birds used belong to two classes, the long-winged,

dark-eyed falcons and the short-winged, yellow-eyed hawks. The falcons

used are the Gerfalcon, Peregrine, Hobby, Merlin, and some others. The

hawks used are the Goshawk and the Sparrowhawk. The falcons take their

prey by rising above it in the air and darting down upon it. The hawks

fly in a straight line and take it by their great speed.

The taming of these birds is a slow process. It was of old the custom

to fasten jesses or soft leather straps round their legs and hoods over

their heads. A line fastened to the strap kept them from flying away.

They were taught to rest and feed on the gloved hand of the trainer and

also to make short flights to a "lure," a piece of wood on which food

was placed. They were drawn back by the cord tied to the jesses. In

this and other ways the birds were taught, and in time could be trusted

to fly free and come back to the huntsman's hand.

[Illustration: Leg and Foot of Falcon Showing the Method of Attaching

the Fastening]

When the hawkers went abroad on a hunt, gay was the show and lively the

sport. On horseback, carrying the hawks on their wrists, the gallant

company rode briskly away, all of them dressed in fine robes and the

hawks also richly "dressed." The bird might have around its neck a

collar of gold filagree and over its head a hood of the finest silk,

with a plume of colored feathers on top. Little tinkling bells, those

of finest sound, hung from the leather leg rings, and the glove on

which the bird sat was often spangled with gold, and sometimes adorned

with jewels.

While the hood was on the bird would not move, but when the hood was

taken off and it saw the prey it was eager to fly. Here is the story of

a hawking party as late as 1825. This party set out in the afternoon,

riding towards a place frequented by herons--a large, strong bird with

which only the strongest falcons could deal. There were four couples

of birds, all of the kind known as Peregrine falcons. Each bird had a

small bell on one leg and a leather hood, with pieces of red cloth in

it to cover each eye.

After some time a heron was seen near at hand. At once the hoods were

taken from the heads of two of the falcons and as soon as they had seen

the bird they were let loose. Away they flew after the heron, but a

crow chanced to cross their track and one of the birds started to chase

this, while the other kept on.

When it came near the heron it flew in circles until it was far above

it and at length came pouncing down and struck its prey on the back.

Down came the two birds, tumbling from a high point to the ground. By

this time the crow had escaped and the second falcon came flying up,

just in time to see the other falcon and the heron falling. At this

instant a rook flew across and the second bird struck at him, bringing

him to the ground not far away from the other game.

Up now dashed the falconers, held out the lure, on which was a live

pigeon, and secured the game while the birds were making a meal upon

the pigeon. Two other herons were taken by the other falcons and the

day's sport closed. Such was a scene of hawking in the 19th century. In

olden times the game was often much more exciting than this.

[Illustration]

IX

WILD ANIMALS IN MAN'S SERVICE

You must by this time think that there is hardly any kind of animal

upon the earth that man has not at some time kept as a friend or

a captive. Of course, we mean the larger animals, the quadrupeds,

reptiles, birds, and fishes, not the vast hordes of insects and the

still lower animals. Of these there is only one, the honey-seeking bee,

that has been made to work for man, but of the large animals many more

than those spoken of have served him in some way or have been captured

and caged for his pleasure.

All the large cities have their Zoölogical gardens, where wild beasts

of many kinds are kept on show, and in villages and small towns and

cities the travelling menagerie carries such wild creatures around

where everyone may see them.

Here, in strong cages, we may look at the lordly lion, with its

splendid mane, and its gaping jaws, filled with cruel teeth, and the

tiger, fierce and sly, pacing round and round its narrow cage on silent

feet, and at times stopping to glare with savage eyes at the lookers

outside. It may have seen and made a meal on such beings in its native

wilds.

Then there are the snarling hyena, the spotted leopard, the wild-eyed

wolf, the American panther and wild-cat, the growling bear, and many

others. Greatest among these are the huge and savage rhinoceros, the

ugly river-horse, or hippopotamus, and the noble elephant.

These are only a few of the animals that are kept for show, among them

many of the tameable ones, as the playful monkey, the slender deer or

antelope, the large elk and moose, the wolf, raccoon, opossum, kangaroo

and many others of the smaller animals.

Man is able to make friends of the most of these. In fact there are

daring men and women who are ready to go into the cages of the fiercest

of these beasts and make them go through the tricks they have been

taught. They have been even found bold enough to put their heads into

the lion's mouth. This is always a foolish thing to do, and sometimes

it has ended in the lion's closing his great jaws and smashing the

man's head as one would smash an egg-shell.

With all this we are not here concerned. It is only the animals that

serve us as friends and helpers that we are dealing with. But man at

times makes use of certain creatures that usually are only seen in a

wild state, so it is well to say something of the wild animals that at

times are made to serve us in some way.

THE DANCING BEAR

You have seen, no doubt, the dancing bears, clumsy, ugly brutes that

men lead around the country, visiting the summer resorts, and making

the animals go through some awkward movements on their hind legs, which

they call dancing.

This is not a sign of any great sense in the bear. To get up on his

hind legs is a common habit of this lumbering fellow. Many hunters who

have made the bear angry have found this to be the case. When it wants

to fight up comes the bear on its hind feet. It is not like a prize

fighter, using its fore-legs to spar with; though it can strike a blow

that will hurl the strongest man to the ground. But what it tries to do

is to get its fore-legs round the man and give him a hug. When a bear

hugs, he means business. It is not a tender embrace, but a bone-cracker

that few men can stand.

The bear is an easy animal to tame. The common brown bear I mean, not

the savage grizzly bear, which no one would think of trying to tame,

except when young. When a bear is tamed it shows itself a docile animal

that will not hurt any one who treats it well.

As for the learned bears, their learning does not amount to much. It

takes no special teaching to get them on their hind legs or to prance

around in a clumsy fashion. Yet the bear is not wanting in brain

powers. It is really an animal of much intelligence and very teachable.

[Illustration: Grizzly Bear Cub. The Young of all Animals, Even of the

Fierce Grizzly, can be Tamed by Kindness]

It shows this in various ways. I have told you how the elephant gets

hold of a piece of food by blowing back of it with his trunk, and

how the monkey does the same thing by throwing his shawl over it and

drawing it in. The bear has a way of his own of doing the same thing,

as the following anecdote will show:

It is the story of a bear at the Zoo, to which some one threw a bun.

The bun fell into the bear's bathing pool, out of his reach. The animal

could have got it easily by going into the water, but did not just then

want to wet his feet and in his wise head thought out another plan. He

put his paw into the water and began stirring it up till he had a sort

of current going round the pond. When one leg was tired he put in the

other, moving it in the same direction, and kept this up till the bun

came swimming round within reach.

There are other stories of the same kind and they go to show that the

bear has good thinking powers. He certainly knew that by making a

current in the water he could cause the bun to float up within reach

of his paws. It is not likely that this bear had ever done the thing

before or seen it done, so he had to think it out for himself.

There is a very interesting thing to say about wild animals which will

fit in well at this point. As a rule they only want to be let alone,

and if man would quit hunting them many of them would become as tame as

the cows and sheep in our fields. There is much proof of this, some of

it very late proof.

After the Yellowstone National Park was set aside as a national

pleasure ground orders were given that none of the wild animals of the

park should be shot. You may think that these wild creatures could not

find this out, but they soon did. Thus we are told that the elks, the

great deer of the mountains, are very alert and timid outside the park

boundary, but when they have crossed this and come into the park they

grow very bold and independent. They have learned that the crack of the

gun which means death on one side of the border is not heard on the

other, and have taken in this lesson.

As for the bears, they are fearless of man when inside the park, and

come up close to the hotels and other buildings as if they looked upon

these as part of their lunch route. It is the same with the other wild

animals. They seem to know.

We hear of the same thing from East Africa. No one can shoot at game

within a certain distance on each side of the East African Railway.

That is the law and the wild beasts have come to know it. Travellers on

that road tell us that crowds of wild animals can be seen on both sides

of the road, antelopes, zebras, ostriches, deer, and the like, looking

with curious eyes as the train goes by but not trying to get away.

This was not the case in the past, when people could shoot at them from

the train. No one has posted up a bulletin in beast language telling

that a treaty of peace had been signed between man and beast. But there

stands the fact. These innocent creatures have lost all their old fear

of the railway train. They seem to have told one another.

This is not the case with such dangerous brutes as the lion, the

leopard, the hyena and the rhinoceros. These do not come within the

terms of the treaty of peace. Travellers are free to shoot at them. As

a result you do not see them among the animals that welcome the train.

THE SEAL AND THE ALLIGATOR

So far we have been talking of land animals, those that live, eat and

breathe on solid ground. If we turn to the sea, we find it the native

abode of the fish and of many animals lower than fish in nature's great

family. And it is of interest to find that some land animals have gone

back to the great world of waters, part of them to live there all the

time, part to share their time between land and sea.

Among the first of these is the mighty whale, much the largest of

living beings; also the porpoise, the dolphin, and other air-breathers

that live in the ocean. Chief among those that spend their lives in

part on the land are the seals. And these are the only animals of the

land-sea kind that have ever been tamed, so we must say a few words

about the seal.

There are many kinds of seals, some of them, like the sea-elephant

of the southern seas, being very large. Others are small. All are

splendid swimmers, their arms and hands acting as fins or oars, with

which they can make their way very swiftly through the water. The ocean

is their dining hall, in which a great dish of fish is ever ready for

them, but their home is on island shores, where their young are born

and brought up till they are able to swim.

[Illustration: The Harp-seal Afloat on the Ice]

The kind of seal to be talked of here is that known as the Common Seal.

This is the easiest to tame. It is found in the Arctic seas and comes

down the coasts of Europe as far south as the Mediterranean and the

coasts of America as far south as New Jersey.

This little fellow, along with some other species, is very intelligent.

Where they are not hunted they will come very close to boats and to men

on shore. They have a fondness for music and will follow a boat for

miles if a flute or some other instrument is played. The ringing of the

churchbell of the little town of Hoy, in the Orkney Islands, has often

brought a great many seals into the bay, drawn there by the bell tones.

Seals that have been taken and tamed are very gentle and docile, and

will live long if they have water to bathe and swim in, and fish to

eat. They like to be taken notice of and caressed, come like dogs when

their names are called, and can be easily taught many little tricks, so

that learned seals are often put on exhibition.

When taken young and brought up in a household the seal acts as if it

felt itself to be one of the family, and likes much to lie and warm

itself in front of the fire. It grows very fond of those who care for

it, showing a tender and loving nature.

We are told of one that would follow its master about like a dog,

eating from his hand and lying by his side when he sat before the

kitchen fire. It would also nestle close to the dog, with which it had

made friends. When anyone came into the room, up would go its head to

see who the newcomer was. But it never tried to bite dog or stranger.

The winter after this young seal was taken was cold and stormy, so that

it was not easy to catch fish enough to feed the family and the seal.

They tried giving it milk, but it took so much of this that in the end

the family could not afford to keep it and decided to set it free and

let it fish for itself.

Taking the little thing--it was very young--into a boat, they rowed out

to sea, and when far enough from land tossed it overboard. But they

were not going to get rid of their pet seal so easily as this. It swam

after the boat, crying in so pitiful a way that they could not bear the

tone and in the end took it on board again. Thus it was brought back to

the house and lived there several months more before it took sick and

died.

[Illustration: The Savage Florida Alligator]

There is a story very like this of another seal that its owners tried

several times to get rid of. They failed to do so, the knowing creature

always finding its way back. At one time it even crept into the room

through an open window and made its way up to bask by the fireside.

While it is not strange that the seal can be easily tamed, we should

not look for such a thing in so savage an animal as the alligator,

the most feared and hated of the animals found in the waters of our

Southern States. Yet even this ferocious reptile can be tamed, as the

following story will show.

The alligator in question was taken when very young, before its wild

nature had shown itself, and was fed and attended to by its master,

of whom it became very fond. It grew so tame that it would follow him

about the house like a dog, even scrambling up and down stairs after

him.

But the funny thing about this comical pet was that its chief friend

was the cat, and that pussy returned its friendship. When the cat lay

drowsing before the fire, the alligator would crawl up, lay its head on

her back, and go to sleep in this position. It seemed happy whenever

the cat was near, but grew very restless if its furry friend was away.

Raw flesh was fed to it and sometimes milk, which it liked very much.

At night, in cold weather, it slept in a box, with wool for it to

nestle in. But one night there came a sharp frost and the little guest

was forgotten. The next morning the native of warm climates was found

frozen to death.

THE STORK, CORMORANT AND ALBATROSS

It would take many pages to tell about all the wild animals that have

at times been tamed by man or made to serve him in various ways. As

it is, we must confine ourselves to a few, and have selected the three

water-birds named above all of which have been of service to man in

some way.

The Stork is not a tame bird in the sense of being kept about the

household, but it has so long been taken care of and laws made to

protect it, that it has grown very familiar and may be seen walking

about the streets of Holland, even among crowds of people, without a

show of fear. No one wants it for food, for its flesh is not good, and

it does so much service by eating frogs, snakes and other troublesome

animals, that every one feels friendly towards it.

It also struts about in the market places and keeps them clean

and fresh by eating all the offal. Thus it plays the part of the

turkey-buzzard of our Southern cities, which is taken care of for the

same reason.

The Common Stork of the Old World countries is a large bird,

long-legged and long-necked. It is pure white in color, except that

the wings are partly black and the bill and legs are red. It sleeps

standing on one leg, with the neck folded and the head turned back on

the shoulders. If alarmed, as when a dog comes near, it makes a loud

snapping noise with its bill.

The stork spends the winter in Africa and flies back in the summer

to Europe, where it is very common in Holland and North Germany. Its

feeding place is in the marshes, where it wades about, eating the

frogs and other small animals to be found there. It is very fond of

eels and will follow people about the streets who feed it on this

favorite morsel. It has a way of asking for food by nodding its head,

flapping its wings, and blowing the air from its lungs.

[Illustration: The Stork in its Feeding Grounds]

Of a mild and peaceful disposition, the stork has long been much cared

for and a halo of romance clings round it, coming down from ancient

times. This arises from its devotion to its young, which brings it

into esteem in various countries. It builds its nest on the roofs or

chimneys of houses or the steeples of churches, the nest being a bunch

of sticks, reeds and other debris. In the ruined cities of Asia a

stork's nest may be seen on the top of nearly every standing pillar.

In Holland and many other parts of Europe it is common to put a box

on the roof for the stork, and when the inmates find that a stork has

built in their box they are glad, for they think it will bring good

luck to the family. When a new baby comes to the household, children

are told that the stork has brought it out of the well, and thus the

young grow to like the stork. Four or five eggs are laid in the stork's

nest, of white color tinged with buff, and the birds are apt to come

back to the same nest year after year.

The stork not only shows great fondness for its young, but is also

thought to take much care of its aged parents. Whether this is true

or not, it adds to the affection people have for this bird. When the

summer is over and it is time to fly south, the birds gather in large

flocks as if to talk the matter over. The stork, indeed, has no voice,

but it makes a great clatter with its bill. The meeting over, the flock

flies off for the far-away tropics, the birds rising very high and

making a loud rushing noise with their wings. They are gone, to be seen

no more until the next summer is at hand.

Now let us take up the story of the Cormorant, one of the web-footed

swimming and fishing birds, of which so many kinds dwell about the

waters of the world. They belong to the same family as the pelicans,

but while the pelican has a great net, or fish basket, under its lower

bill, the cormorant has only a small one, not big enough to hold many

fish.

[Illustration: The Cormorant, the Fishing Bird of China]

The cormorants are great fish-eaters, so much so that it is common to

call any large eater a cormorant. There are many species, some small,

some large, living on the shores of islands and in some cases along

rivers.

The way in which this bird is of service to man is in its being tamed

and trained to catch fish for him. This used to be done in England and

is still done in China. How it is done may be told in a few words.

The bird is easily tamed by the Chinese fishermen and is trained by

them for its new duty. While being trained a string is tied to its leg

so as to control its movements. Then small fish are thrown out and

it springs after them. In time it learns to go into the water when a

whistle is given and to come back when it hears a different whistle.

After three or four weeks of this training the bird is ready for duty

and no longer needs a string to hold it.

The birds become in time as docile as dogs and obey every order of

their masters. When put regularly to work a small ring of hemp is tied

around their throats, so that they cannot swallow large fish. When the

fisherman rows out into the water the birds sit quietly on the side of

the boat until they get his orders. Then into the water they dash and

usually come up with a fish, which they bring to him.

If one comes up with a fish too large to handle, another bird,

sometimes several birds, will come to his aid and help him to land

the prize. Sometimes one of them takes a lazy fit and swims about the

water, paying no heed to business. Then the fisherman shouts at the

idle bird and strikes the water with his oar, keeping this up till it

dives for prey.

At the end of the day's work the ring on the bird's neck is loosened or

taken off and some of the fish are given it or it is allowed to fish

for itself. Like the stork, the cormorant is very fond of eels, and

when one of them comes up with an eel there is often a fight between

two or three of them for the prize.

There is another bird on our list, the Albatross. It has never been

tamed and cannot be said to be of service to man. At least I can name

only one instance. In this case the bird is said to have been used to

carry a message from shipwrecked sailors, telling where they could be

found and asking for help. I cannot say whether this story is true or

not, but it leads us to say something about this famous bird of the

waves.

[Illustration: The Albatross swooping over the ocean waves]

The albatross is a wonderful flyer. It is the largest of the web-footed

birds, being four feet long and with a wing spread of from ten to

seventeen feet. It seems to float or glide on the air rather than fly,

hardly moving its long wings except when rising from the water.

It often follows ships for a long time; day after day, some people say,

but this is doubtful. No ship can outsail it and it is said to be able

to fly as much as eight hundred miles in a day. Sailors often fish

for it with a baited hook, but find it hard to haul in, as it often

draws out the hook or breaks the line. But a bait of blubber is very

attractive and in a few minutes the same bird will take the hook again.

Only by catching a fish in some such way as this could a message tied

to its legs by shipwrecked sailors be found.

Sailors have long had a superstition about shooting the albatross,

fearing that it would bring ill luck to the ship and its crew. All who

can do so would do well to read Coleridge's famous poem of the "Ancient

Mariner," in which the men who "shot the albatross" brought terrible

misfortune to the ship and all on board.

THE HONEY-GIVING BEE

There is only one other animal of which I shall speak as a servant or

aid of man, this time an insect, the well-known hive bee, which every

one of you must have seen, and like enough many of you may have felt,

for this little fellow has a very "hot foot."

The bee cannot be called a _tame_ animal. Although it lives with man

and under his care, it does not know this but fancies that it is

working for itself alone. And the honey which man gets from it is laid

up by the busy bee for its own use. It has no notion of working for

man, but is robbed by him of its sweet stores.

Among all the wild animals that are of service to man this little

humming insect stands first. Nimble, active, always at work, always

singing over its work, the happiest of the working class, it keeps

itself busy through all the season of flowers in gathering honey from

their cups and carrying it to store away in its neat cells of wax. It

is a winter store of food it is laying up. By good fortune the bees are

able to collect more than they need for their own use, so their keepers

can take part of it and still leave the little workers enough to live

on the winter through.

The bee has been working in this way for man during long ages. Go far

back in time and you will find writers telling about the bees and their

ways. The Greek and Roman writers tell us much about them,--some of it

fancy, some of it fact,--and within later times these useful insects

have been much studied and written about.

I do not propose to tell the story of the bee, for it is much too

long a one to be given in this place. All I need speak of here is the

service it renders to man. There are many varieties of bees but only

one, the hive bee, is of interest to us in this story, for it is the

only one that works for us.

What we do for the bee is to supply it a home to live in, a cage or

hive in which it may dwell, take care of its young, and lay up a store

of its sweet food. How all this is done is very interesting. There is

nothing in nature more neatly built than the waxen comb of the bee, and

no prettier dish for our tables than a comb full of the golden honey.

And there is nothing which most of us like better to eat. So it is the

comb of the bee that I shall speak of here, rather than the bee itself.

[Illustration: An Opened Bee Hive Showing the Clustering Bees]

The bee goes abroad for honey, but the wax which it uses for the comb

is formed in its own body. It comes out from a sort of wax-pocket in

the lower part of the body, is scraped up by the legs and carried to

the mouth. Here it is well chewed and then laid on the floor for the

use of the comb-builders.

From this wax the bees build a series of six-sided cells, laid side by

side, some of them to hold honey, others as cradles for the young. They

are fastened to the walls and hang downward. It is well to say here

that there is only one egg-layer in the hive. This is called the queen

bee. The others are workers and drones. The workers store up food, the

drones (the male bees) do nothing but eat it. This the workers let

them do while the summer lasts and food is plenty, but they do not let

them spend the winter in the hive, eating the food which they have not

helped to gather. When the summer season is over they drive the drones

from the hive and sting them to death.

Is there a lesson for us in this habit of the bees? They have no room

in the hives for those who do no work, and kill them on the spot rather

than let them starve or freeze. While we could not do a thing like

this, it might be well if everybody was made to work for the food they

eat, as the bees do.

Now let us come back to the waxen cells, built so neatly and packed

into the hive so closely that no man could do it better. Some of these,

as I have said, are cradles for the young; some are store-houses for

food. The queen bee is a wonderful egg layer. For every egg laid by the

hen she will lay several hundred, each in a cell of its own. From the

egg comes a little maggot, which feeds on the honey and pollen given it

till it swells into a fat little worm. Then it builds around itself a

cocoon of fine silk, in which it lies hid while it is going through the

process of changing from a worm into a bee. In the end it comes out a

winged insect, ready to take its part in the business of the hive.

Egg-laying is the work of the queen; food gathering is that of the

workers. As soon as warm weather comes and blossoms open on bushes and

trees, the bees may be seen at work, visiting flower after flower and

sucking up by aid of the tongue the sweet juice to be found in so many

flower cups. This is partly used for food, but much of it is stored in

the honey bag of the bee to be carried to the hive and laid away in the

honey cells.

As the season goes on new plants bear blossoms, so that all through

the blossom season the busy bees find plenty of their sweet food.

Another thing they collect is the pollen of the flowers. This clings to

the hairs of the body while they are at work in the blossoms, and is

cleaned off by the jaws and feet, a little honey being mixed with it.

In this way little pellets are formed which are used as food for the

young. On this rich food the little ones soon grow fat.

Another thing gathered by the bee is a sticky substance called

_propolis_. It is used as a cement, to varnish the combs and stop up

all holes. The bees carry this home on their legs and the workers in

the hive clean it off and use it while it is soft to cover up all weak

spots.

I have said that the wax is formed in the body of the bee. The same may

be said of the poison. This flows into the sting, and by its aid the

bee is able to defend itself, not only against its natural enemies, but

against artificial ones, like meddlesome boys. But the sting is barbed,

so that the bee often fails to draw it back after using it. Thus the

sting is pulled from the body and the bee dies from the wound.

For long ages men have kept bees, making hives for them. Every season

new swarms come from the old hives and are brought in various ways to

start fresh colonies in new ones. Hives have been made of many things,

often of straw, which was long used in England. To get the honey from

these the bees were first killed by the fumes of sulphur. It seems a

cruel thing to kill them in order to rob them, and it is not now done.

In our country the straw hive has never been used. The hives now in use

have frames on which combs may be built and filled with honey and then

drawn out, leaving the lower combs for the bees' own use. There is a

process by which the honey can be drawn from the combs without breaking

them in any way, so that they may be filled again by the bees. As in

this case they do not have to make new combs the active insects can

soon fill the old ones again.

Little more remains to be said. There are certain flowers which yield

honey of fine flavor, such as those of the heather, the white clover,

the buckwheat, the rosemary and the orange-flower. In ancient times the

most famous honey was that of Mount Hybla in Sicily and Mount Hymettus

in Greece. In our own days the countries in which bee-farming is

carried on most largely are the United States and Canada, and of this

country, Southern California is the paradise of the beekeeper.

On some bee farms are from two thousand to three thousand hives and it

is said that as much as seven hundred pounds of honey have been taken

from one hive. Thus this little buzzing insect is one of the most

active and able of the animals that help to feed and serve us, and with

the busy bee we may close our list of man's Animal Friends and Helpers.

INDEX

[Illustration]

A

Albatross, the, 333, 334

Alderney cattle, 139

Alligator, the, 326;

story of a tame one, 327

Alpaca, the, 111, 113

Anecdotes of the dog, 29-39;

of the cat, 49-51;

of the horse, 82-85;

of the mule, 85;

of the elephant, 121-132;

of the pig, 174;

of song-birds, 225, 226;

of the parrot, 232-236;

of the raven, 236, 237;

of the jackdaw, 238-240;

of the crow, 240, 241;

of the starling, 241-246;

of the monkey, 250, 255, 257, 259, 262, 263, 266, 267-282;

of snakes, 291;

of the squirrel, 307-309;

of the bear, 321;

of the seal, 325, 326

Angora cat, the, 48

Angora goat, the, 165

Angora rabbit, 52

Animals of the household, 13-15;

of the earth, 283-285;

of the aquarium, 286

Animals, varied uses of, 133

Apes, man-like, 260-262

Aquarium, pets of the, 286

Arab horse, the, 66, 79-81

Arabia, falconry in, 311

Arabian camel, 104, 109

Armadillo, the, 300, 304;

as a pet, 305, 306

Ass, the wild, 87-88

Astrakhan fur, 155

Aylesbury duck, 189

Ayrshire cows, 139

B

Bactrian camel, 104, 109

Bantam fowls, 183

Bear, the, 319;

intelligence of, 321;

in Yellowstone Park, 322

Bee, the, 334;

habits of, 335;

combs and honey, 336;

cell building, 337;

labors of, 338;

hives and swarming, 339;

the honey harvest, 340

Beef, American, 141

Big-horn sheep, 152

Bird of Juno, 206;

bird of Venus, 208

Birds, trick, 229, 230

Bison, the, 97

Blackbird, the English, 226;

anecdotes of, 226, 227

Boa-constrictor, the, 290-293

Brahma fowls, 179

Buffalo, the, 96;

as a worker, 98-99;

habits of, 99-100

Bulbul, the, 228

Bull, the, 134

Bull-fighting, 145-149

Bullfinch, the, 224;

anecdote of, 225

Burro, the, 89

Butter, 137;

making of, 140

C

Cage-birds, 217, 218

Camel, the, 103;

its fitness for desert life, 105, 106;

as a worker, 107;

intellect of, 109;

uses of, 110

Canary, the, 218;

habits of, 219;

song of, 220;

breeds of, 221

Carabao, the, 98, 99

Caribou, the, 101, 102

Carrier pigeon, the, 211-213

Cashmere goat, the, 164

Cat, habits of the, 42, 45, 46;

ancient, 23;

treatment of, 43, 44;

origin of, 44;

cat and mouse, 45;

cat and dog, 46;

varieties of, 47-48;

anecdotes of, 49-51

Cat-bird, the, 224

Cattle, 134;

wild, 135;

colors of, 136;

uses of, 136-141, 145;

in United States, 143;

in other countries, 144

Chameleon, the, 300

Chamois, the, 159

Chariot races, ancient, 70-71

Cheese, 138, 141;

from sheep, 155;

from goat, 160

Chicken, uses of the, 176, 180

Chimpanzee, anecdote of the, 263

China, hawking in, 311

Chinese pig, the, 172

Christmas goose, the, 192

Christmas turkey, the, 195

Cloven-hoofed animals, 92-132

Cobra, the, 293;

as a house guard, 295;

charming of, 296

Cochin-china fowls, 179

Cock, morning call of the, 176, 177;

its fighting habits, 182

Collie, the, 22

Cormorant, the, 331;

fishing with, 332

Cow, the, 134;

uses of, 135;

milk-giving, 136, 138, 139;

in United States, 142

Creameries, 140

Crow, thefts of the, 240;

anecdote of, 241

Crows, the monkey and the, 252, 253

D

Deserts of Asia and Africa, 102, 103

Dick Turpin's horse, 65

Dog, man's friend, 15;

anecdotes of the, 29-39;

eulogy on the, 39-41

Dog wit and wisdom, 29

Dogs, ancient, 16;

origin of, 17;

kinds of, 19;

hunting, 20;

working, 21;

sheep, 22;

cur, 23;

watch, 24;

pet, 24-29

Domestic animals, origin of, 284;

in America, 285

Donkey, the, 86, 88

Dove, the, 207

Dromedary, the, 108

Duck, habits of the, 186;

food of, 187;

the young, 188;

where kept, 189

Dutch rabbit, 53

E

Egg-harvest, the world's, 181, 182

Elephant, the, 117;

taming of, 178;

as a worker, 119, 120;

caution of, 121;

mental powers of, 124, 131;

anecdotes of, 124-132

Eskimo dogs, 21, 113-117

Eulogy on the dog, Senator Vest's, 39-41

F

Falcon, the, 309;

legend of, 312;

varieties of, 313;

taming of, 314

Falconry, 309;

in ancient times, 310;

in Asia, 311;

legend of, 312;

mediæval, 313;

method of, 314;

a modern instance, 315

Famous men, pets of, 60

Fat-tailed sheep, the, 153

Ferret, the, 56, 57

Fishes, aquarium, 286-289

Flea, the learned, 285

Foes of animals, 92-94

Foot of the horse, 63

G

Game-cock, the, 182-183;

cock-fighting, 184-186

Gellert, the faithful, 311

Gerfalcon, the, 313

Giant goose, the, 191

Giant rabbit, 54

Gibbon, training of the, 262

Goat, the, 158;

its climbing habits, 159;

where kept, 160;

grazing habits of, 161;

its mental powers, 161;

its uses, 162-165;

hunt of, 131

Goat-skins, uses of, 163

Gold-fish, the, 287

Goose, food of the, 189;

egg-laying of, 190;

strength of, 191;

anecdote of, 191;

uses of, 192

Goshawk, the, 313

Great Dane, the, 25

Grosbeak, the Virginia nightingale, 228

Guinea-fowl, the, 198;

its habits, 199

Guinea-pig, the, 57

H

Hawk, the, 309;

kinds of, 313;

taming of, 314

Hawking, 309-316

Hedgehog, the, 58, 300, 302;

as a house pet, 303

Hen, vocal powers of the, 178

Hermit-thrush, 229

Holstein cows, 139

Home comrades, 13-15

Hoof, the horse's, 63

Horse, the, 61-82;

anecdotes of the, 82-85

Horseback riding, 71

Horse-breaking, 78

Horse tamer, the, 77, 78

Horses of the steppes, 64, 65;

of Persia, Arabia and Russia, 66;

of Western Europe, 67;

of America, 69;

anecdotes of, 82-85

Hounds, varieties of, 20

Hunting horses, 73

I

Ibex, the, 159

J

Jackal, the, 18

Jackdaw, talking powers of the, 238;

anecdotes of, 238-240

K

Kangaroo, the, 59

L

Lapland reindeer, the, 101

Llama, the, 111-113

M

Magpie, talking powers of the, 238

Malay cat, the, 48

Manx cat, the, 47

Mastiff, the, 24

Mavis, the, 229

Merino sheep, the, 154

Milk, 137, 141, 162

Minnow, the, 288

Missel-thrush, the, 229

Mocking-bird, the, 222;

imitative powers of, 223, 228

Mohair wool, 165

Mongoose, the, 297;

in Jamaica, 298;

as a house pet, 299, 300

Monkey, organ-grinder and, 247;

as a pet, 248;

fondness of, for mischief, 249, 280;

revengeful spirit of, 250-253;

powers of imitation, 253;

anecdotes of, 254, 255, 270-282;

intelligence of, 256, 260;

varieties of, 259;

self-teaching of, 264-270;

feeling and friendliness of, 273

Mule, the, 85, 90, 91

N

Newfoundland dog, the, 25

Night, noises of the, 176

Nightingale, the, 228

O

Orang-outang, intelligence of the, 266

Organ-grinder's monkey, the, 247

Ostrich, the, 214;

farms of, 215;

feathers of, 216

Otter, the, 58, 59

Ox, the, 94

P

Parrot, the, 230;

intelligence of, 231;

talking powers, 231;

anecdotes of, 232-236

Peacock, the, 204, 205;

habits of, 206

Peary and his dogs, 115-117

Pekin duck, the, 189

Peregrine falcons, 313, 315

Persian cat, the, 48

Philippine cock-fight, a, 185

Pig, character of the, 165-168;

food of the, 168;

how kept, 169;

flesh of, 170;

uses of, 172;

mental powers of, 173

Pigeon, the, 209;

bird of Venus, 208;

nest building of, 209;

habits of, 210;

kinds of, 211-213

Plymouth Rock fowls, 180

Ponies, Shetland, 67;

Scandinavian, 68;

Greek, 69

Poodles, the, 28

Porcupine, the, 300

Pork as food, 170;

fondness of the Romans for, 171;

where now eaten, 171;

American yield of, 172

Pouter pigeon, the, 211

Prairie dog, the, 60

Pug, the, 24

Python, the, 290, 291, 293

Q

Quagga, the, 90

R

Rabbit, the, 52-56;

varieties of, 53;

care of, 55

Race-courses, 71

Racing horse, the, 70-73

Ram, fighting powers of the, 150

Rat, the Jamaican, 298;

as a pet, 301, 302;

egg and oil stealing, 302;

armadillo attack on, 304

Raven, talking powers of the, 236;

anecdote of, 237

Reindeer, the, 100-102

Rouen ducks, the, 188

S

Seal, the, 323;

taming of, 325;

anecdotes of, 325, 326

Sheep, the, 149, 150;

uses of, 151, 154-156;

habits of, 152, 153;

where kept, 153, 154

Sheep dog, the, 22

Shepherd's dog, story of the, 36

Shetland pony, the, 67

Single-hoofed animals, 61-90

Skylark, the, 227

Snake-charmer, the, 293, 296

Snake-dance, the, 293

Snakes, 289;

poisonous kinds, 290;

taming of, 291, 296;

charming of, 293-296

Song-thrush, the, 229

Southdown sheep, the, 154

Spain, bull-fights in, 145-149

Spaniel, the, 27

Sparrowhawk, the, 313

Squirrel, the, 306;

anecdotes of, 307-309

Starling, whistling and talking powers of the, 241;

anecdote of the, 242-246

St. Bernard dog, the, 25

Stickleback, the, 288, 289

Stork, the, 328;

habits of, 329;

nest building of, 330;

popular affection for, 330

Swan, beauty of the, 199;

varieties of, 200;

American species of, 200;

habits of, 201;

eggs and nests of, 202;

anecdote of, 203

T

Terriers, 26, 29

Trotting-horse, the, 72

Tumbler pigeon, the, 211

Turkey, species of the, 194;

its habits, 194;

where kept, 195;

a Christmas dainty, 195;

in France, 196

Turnspit, the, 38

W

War-horse, the, 74-75

Weasel, the, 58

White rat, a tame, 301, 302, 304

Wild animals in captivity, 317, 318;

treaty of peace with, 322

Wild-hog, the, 165, 166

Wild-horse, the, 62

Wild-turkey, habits of the, 193

Wolf, the, 17

Wood-thrush, the, 229

Wool, origin and use of, 151;

shearing of, 156;

uses of, 157, 158

Working-horse, the, 75-76

Wyandotte fowls, 180

Y

Yak, the, 95

Yellowstone Park, wild animals in, 322

Z

Zebra, the, 89

Zebu, the, 96

Transcriber's Note:

Spelling and punctuation errors have been silently corrected.