Transcriber’s Note
Italic text displayed as: _italic_
[Illustration: MALI BOWED RESPECTFULLY TO HIM.]
TALES OUT OF SCHOOL
BY
FRANK R. STOCKTON
_NEW EDITION._
NEW YORK:
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS,
1916
COPYRIGHT 1875
BY
SCRIBNER, ARMSTRONG & CO.
COPYRIGHT 1903
BY
MARIAN E. STOCKTON
[Illustration: Decoration]
PREFACE.
It is not generally considered proper to tell tales out of school, but
I shall venture it in this book. And if any of the Arabs, or tigers, or
Cabordmen, that I tell tales about, do not like it, they can come to
me and find as much fault as they please. I shall be glad to hear what
they have to say.
But I shall not tell all the tales myself. The lady who in “Round-about
Rambles,” took you to Pompeii and many strange and interesting places,
will tell you some of these stories.
CONTENTS.
COLONEL MYLES’ ADVENTURES IN AFRICA AND INDIA 1
A SUGAR CAMP 31
SILVER PLATING 34
VERY ANCIENT ANIMALS 37
ITURIM AND HIS FORTUNES 42
LARGE HOUSES FOR SMALL TENANTS 54
THE WONDERFUL ADVENTURES OF GUTEFUNDUS 61
SOME BIG GUNS 70
TOM REYNOLDS AND MORIYAMA 74
LUMINOUS INSECTS 93
OWLS ON A FROLIC 96
COMMON AND UNCOMMON SPONGES 98
MAGHAR’S LEAP 101
THE SEA COW 120
TWO EXTREMES 123
A SNOW STORM IN THE TROPICS 130
HOW THREE MEN WENT TO THE MOON 140
TARTAR HORSES AND HORSEMEN 153
TWO HAPPY MEN 156
THE WONDERFUL ASH TREE 162
WORK AND WATER 174
THE LAND OF THE WHITE ELEPHANT 178
CURIOSITIES OF VEGETABLE LIFE 183
BRON AND KRUGE 203
THE MIRAGE 222
CORAL 225
THE GREAT EASTERN 232
KANGAROOS 238
THE STORY OF POLARGNO 241
TURTLES AND THEIR EGGS 265
A FEW VOLCANOES 269
THE ABSENT-MINDED BOTANIST 273
SOMETHING TRUE ABOUT THE MOON 282
A VOYAGE TO THE LOWER AMAZON 287
THE BEDOUIN ARABS 298
FOOL-HARDY CARL HOFER AND THE WATER LADY 302
WATER AND MILK FROM PLANTS 311
THE JOLLY CABORDMEN 317
TALES OUT OF SCHOOL.
COLONEL MYLES’ ADVENTURES IN AFRICA AND INDIA.
He had shot many a buffalo. Indeed he sometimes thought that he had
shot too many, for out on our Western prairies it was often impossible
for him to use the meat, or even to take the skins of the animals that
fell before his generally unerring rifle. And the Colonel was very much
opposed to the useless slaughter of wild animals. If the buffaloes did
any harm while alive or could be put to any use when dead it was all
very well to shoot them. Otherwise, not.
And yet, whenever Colonel Myles saw a buffalo he could not help
shooting at it, if he happened to have his gun with him.
So he made up his mind that he would go abroad and hunt animals that
ought to be killed.
Now you understand how the Colonel happened to go to Africa.
[Illustration: A COMFORTABLE TRIP.]
His sporting experiences did not commence as soon as he set foot on
“Afric’s burning shores,” and indeed it was several months before he
could make all the arrangements for a trip through those portions of
the country where wild and savage beasts, worthy the bullets of such a
hunter, were to be found.
Some parts of his journey were very pleasant, even when he saw no game,
because of the novel modes of traveling.
For instance he was carried many miles in a sort of portable lounge
which was borne on the heads of four negroes. The Colonel lay at ease
on this elevated conveyance, which had a little fence on each side to
keep him from rolling off, and hoops so arranged that when it rained or
the sun shone too brightly, a canopy might be thrown over him without
interfering with his comfort.
Here he could lie and read or smoke while his swift-footed bearers
carried him along at a rate which would have obliged a horse to hurry
himself considerably in order to keep up with them.
Another time, accompanied by a number of negro soldiers, and preceded
by a set of fantastic savages who danced before him with horns on their
heads and shields and spears in their hands, he rode for many miles
upon a well trained native bull.
This steed was not very fast, but he had great endurance and traveled
very easily and pleasantly, without seeming to mind in the least the
black fellows who leaped and shouted in front of him in a way that
would have frightened the soberest old horse that ever hauled a sand
cart.
Perhaps the bull knew that these men were merely trying to impress upon
the mind of the Colonel that they were wonderfully brave, and that with
their spears and their yells they could scare away any enemy that might
be encountered, while in fact a white man with a couple of pistols
could have frightened them out of their wits in about half a minute.
[Illustration: THE COLONEL ON THE BULL.]
But whether the bull knew this or not, he paid no attention to the
dancing braves, and carried the Colonel faithfully for many a long
mile.
But Colonel Myles did not always travel on bulls or in hammocks. After
a time he found an admirable horse, on which he rode on many a hunting
expedition.
Among the first large animals he hunted—he did not count deer and such
small game—were rhinoceroses, of which there were a great many in that
part of the country.
One of his first hunts of the kind began in rather a curious manner.
He had heard that there were rhinoceroses to be found in a certain
hilly part of the country, and, accompanied by two negroes, he started
on his horse quite early in the morning.
Reaching some very rough ground, he thought it better to climb over the
rocks on foot, so he tied his horse to the branch of a tree and set off
with his companions to reconnoitre. They walked up and down through
the bushes, and over gullies, searching for the big animals they were
after, but not a horn of one of them could they see.
At last, returning somewhat discouraged, they reached the top of a
little hill, and there their eyes were greeted with an unexpected sight.
They saw a rhinoceros, a big fellow too, but he was not hunted,—he was
hunting!
And what was especially startling was that he was hunting the Colonel’s
horse!
The great beast had caught sight of the horse, tied to the tree, and
was charging down upon him at full speed.
When they arrived on the scene, the rhinoceros was quite near the
horse, who was rearing and pitching with terror, and pulling furiously
at his bridle. The rhinoceros had his head down and his long sharp horn
seemed to be almost under the poor horse.
Another second and the horse would certainly perish.
[Illustration: THE RHINOCEROS SEEMED ALMOST UNDER THE POOR HORSE.]
But in that second the Colonel’s rifle was at his shoulder and a sharp
shot rang out in the air.
The ball struck the great beast just behind his shoulder. It did not
kill him, but it stopped his onward course. He turned toward the hill,
and at that moment the horse tore himself loose and galloped away.
The rhinoceros now advanced towards the three men. But he found them
very different kind of game from a poor horse tied to a tree.
Again the Colonel’s rifle rang out and Mr. Thick-hide rolled over dead.
This was the first rhinoceros Colonel Myles had ever shot, and he was
proud of his achievement, as well he might be, for it is not an easy
thing to kill a rhinoceros.
If you do not hit him in exactly the right place you might as well fire
at a brick wall.
But Colonel Myles was a capital shot, although he had never had such
difficult creatures to shoot as this great animal which now lay at
his feet. Perhaps his alligator hunts in Florida had taught him how
to aim at iron-clad game, but there is a difference between shooting
alligators and rhinoceroses. If you miss the alligator there is
generally an end of the matter, for he will plunge into the water as
soon as he can, and disappear. But if you miss the rhinoceros he will
plunge after you, and if you cannot disappear very rapidly there may be
an end of the matter, but in the wrong way.
The horse did not run very far, and one of the swift-footed negroes
soon caught him.
This was not the only occasion when a rhinoceros proved a very
dangerous animal to hunt. One day the Colonel was out with a large
party. One man besides himself was mounted on a horse, and there were
half-a-dozen negroes on foot, well armed with guns.
[Illustration: THE RHINOCEROS AFTER THE COLONEL.]
For some time they scoured the country without finding any signs of a
rhinoceros, but at last the tracks of one were discovered, and he was
followed up to his retreat.
When Colonel Myles first caught sight of him he was standing quietly
under a tree. Our hunter took a good aim at him and fired, but just as
he fired, his horse, apparently bitten by a fly, gave a start, and the
ball struck the rhinoceros on one of his heavy flaps of skin, with just
enough effect to make him turn around to see who was there.
Then the Colonel fired again—he had a double-barreled rifle—and this
time the ball struck the rhinoceros fair on the nose, and it made him
mad. Without stopping to consider the matter, he turned squarely round
and charged down straight upon the hunters.
The Colonel had no time to reload his gun, so he put spurs to his horse
and dashed away as fast as he could go.
The other man on horseback did not wait for the savage beast to come
after him but galloped off in another direction. As to the negroes,
they seemed to forget that they had guns, or else they thought that if
the Colonel could not hit the beast in the right spot there was no use
in their trying to do it. At any rate they took to their heels. As the
rhinoceros dashed on, he ran right over one negro, knocking him heels
over head, and he came after the Colonel and his horse at a rate that
gave good reason to expect that in a minute or two he would get his
horn under the horse and toss him over.
But the horse was a good one and he kept ahead of the beast until his
rider loaded again. Then the Colonel turned and as he was so near the
rhinoceros he put a ball into him that rolled him over dead.
This was one of the most dangerous hunting expeditions in which Colonel
Myles ever engaged. Had his horse been a poor one, or had he stumbled,
there would have been no more hunts in Africa—or anywhere else—for our
hero.
He soon had another rhinoceros hunt, which was not dangerous, but very
peculiar.
He started out with four negroes on horseback, and none of them were
armed with anything but the swords of the country, which are not
exactly the things with which to cut sheet-iron, or rhinoceros hides.
The Colonel was well mounted, and of course had his rifle. Before long
two rhinoceroses were started up together, and they rushed out of the
bushes so suddenly and dashed away in such a frightened way that the
Colonel could not get a shot at them. Whichever way they ran there was
always a negro between his gun and the flying beast.
Perceiving that the rhinoceroses were trying their best to get away,
the negroes became very brave, and rode after them as if they intended
to chop them up into little pieces, if they could only get some fair
cracks at them.
In fact they were so enthusiastic, and kept so close to the
rhinoceroses that it was impossible for the Colonel to fire at the
animals without running the risk of killing a black man, and so on they
went as hard as they all could gallop. The rhinoceroses seemed like a
couple of great fat hogs, but they could run famously, and it was as
much as the hunters could do to keep up with them.
One darkey kept ahead of the rest, and quite close to the flying
beasts, and he whacked away at their thick hides, with no other effect
than to make them run faster.
The other negroes shouted and yelled as if they were trying to frighten
the rhinoceroses; and, at any rate, to make them run as fast as they
could.
The Colonel held his gun ready to fire if he could get around where he
could have a fair shot, but his shouts to the negroes to fall back and
leave the beasts to him were totally disregarded. They had found some
game that was afraid of them, and they were going to chase it, as long
as it would run away.
[Illustration: CHASING A PAIR OF RHINOCEROSES.]
The result of it all was that the rhinoceroses ran into some heavy
brushwood where the Colonel’s horse could not follow them, and he did
not get even one shot at them.
It was very disappointing to him, after having been so close to the
game. But he made up his mind that he would never again go hunting when
there were mounted negroes in the party. They put themselves forward
entirely too prominently.
These negroes were excellent fellows to run after any thing which was
not apt to run after them.
The Colonel once saw a very funny incident which exhibited this quality
in the natives in a very striking manner.
In a village where Colonel Myles was staying, making arrangements for
a hunt, there was a large elephant, which belonged to another village
some forty miles away.
This elephant was rather an unruly beast, and did not at all like his
new quarters, or the new driver who had charge of him.
He seemed to be home-sick, and he gave a great deal of trouble by his
uneasy disposition. One day he broke loose, and no sooner did he find
himself at liberty than he determined to go home.
So off he started at the top of his speed, but he had not gone far
before his flight was discovered, and six or eight negroes, snatching
up their swords, immediately gave chase.
They were all on foot, but they could run so fast that they soon caught
up with the elephant.
But then all their trouble commenced. He wouldn’t stop!
They shouted, they yelled, they brandished their swords, and running
before the great beast, they tried their best to make him stop.
But the elephant, with his trunk and his tail in the air, strode along
at a tremendous pace. He did not seem to like his company, for he
bellowed loudly as he ran, but they could no more stop him than a lot
of spring chickens could stop you if you took it in your head to run
home some day in recess-time.
The negroes sprang in front of the elephant, until it seemed as if he
certainly would run over them, and they dashed at him from all sides,
waving their swords in his face as they shouted to him to halt, but he
kept bravely on until the Colonel lost sight of the party.
Together, they ran four or five miles, and then the negroes thought
they might as well give up that chase as a bad job, and the elephant
went on to his home unmolested.
[Illustration: THE ELEPHANT WANTS TO GO HOME.]
If he had known what he ought to do, he would have turned on those
darkies and chased them about half a mile. In that way he would have
managed very soon to relieve himself of his troublesome pursuers. They
would have gone home quite as rapidly as he wanted to go to his home.
Colonel Myles staid in Africa nearly a year and sometimes had a good
deal of exciting hunting, and at other times weeks would pass when he
was obliged to stay in some native village for want of transportation
and guides.
Sometimes too, he found himself in a part of the country where there
was no large game worth mentioning.
He tried hard to find a gorilla, but never succeeded. He often heard
lions in the night, and once came upon a big fellow who was lying down
by the side of a fallen tree in the very road over which he and his
followers were traveling. The tree was of a yellowish brown color and
the lion was of very much the same color, so the Colonel did not see
him until he came quite near to him.
As quickly as possible he jerked his rifle from his shoulder, but his
horse started and reared, and the lion sprang to his feet, and giving
one hasty look at the advancing party, disappeared in the bushes.
The Colonel was very much disappointed at this mishap, and it was
shortly after he had made up his mind that he never would get a good
shot at a lion, that he concluded to go to India.
A party of traders were on their way to the coast, and the Colonel
joined them.
Reaching the coast he found a vessel nearly ready to sail, and in it he
took passage to Bombay.
He was in India nearly two months before he had an opportunity to try
his favorite rifle on any large game.
He preferred to hunt tigers, for tigers are such scourges to the
localities in which they are found that he felt justified in killing as
many of them as he could. But it turned out that his first hunt was
a buffalo hunt—and not only his first but his second and third, and a
good many after that.
He got in a part of the country in which there were a good many
buffaloes, and as they were needed as food it paid very well to hunt
them, and there were always natives enough who were willing to help if
they might have a large share of the meat.
One day one of these natives had a little more buffalo hunting than he
wanted. The colonel perceived a very large fine bull buffalo standing
in an open space and was just about to take a good aim at him when
the animal began to trot off towards a dense thicket. The colonel was
afraid of losing him and so he fired too quickly. If he hit the buffalo
at all he merely wounded him very slightly, for he dashed off into the
thicket.
The native attendant, however, was quite sure that the buffalo had been
fairly hit and would soon drop, so off he rushed to find him.
While he was pushing his way through the thicket he heard a crashing
noise, and looking around saw the savage bull charging down upon him
from a little eminence where there was a comparatively open space.
The man had a gun, but it was not loaded. There was no chance of his
running away, for the bushes and reeds were too close and strong to
allow of that. There was no tree near but one very thick one, up which
he had no time to climb.
The bull stopped for an instant, and then put down his head for another
charge.
The man had no time to do much thinking. Whatever he did in
self-defence must be done quickly, that he knew well. So he darted
behind the tree, and jerking his blanket from his back he put it on his
gun-barrel and waved it about.
The buffalo immediately accepted the challenge, and came at him full
tear. He rushed at the cloth, and as he passed he took it away on
his horns. Then the native hurried off as fast as he could go in the
opposite direction.
The colonel, who had loaded up and was waiting for his attendant to
return, was very much astonished to see a buffalo rush out of the
thicket with a blanket twisted about his horns.
The animal evidently did not notice him, and so he raised his rifle and
shot him dead without the slightest trouble.
[Illustration: THE NATIVE’S TRICK.]
As soon as the buffalo was quite dead, the native appeared from the
thicket and immediately began to boast of the share he had had in
killing the animal.
It is quite certain that had he not succeeded in his very clever trick
the buffalo would either have killed him or would have got away safely.
A week or two after this the Colonel was invited by an officer in the
English army, named Major Alden, to go wild boar-hunting with him.
The Colonel was quite willing, and so they set out together for the
river, some three miles away, where they expected to find a wild boar
or two. A crowd of natives preceded them, beating up the bushes to
drive out the boars.
Our hunters were both well mounted and armed with long spears instead
of guns. The Major, who wore an undress uniform, carried also a short
sword.
They had scarcely reached the river-bank when they saw a boar rush out
of some underbrush and make rapidly for the river.
Both horsemen dashed off in pursuit, Major Alden in advance. Just as he
reached the edge of the high bank the Major thought that he had better
rein up, but he did not think soon enough. He stopped quite near the
brink of the bank, and was on the point of turning back, when the earth
caved in beneath his horse, and down into the water and mud, some ten
feet below, went horse and rider!
Fortunately the river was not very deep at that place, but it was deep
enough. The Major went head foremost over his horse’s neck into the
water, and the horse with a tremendous splash, went into the mud as far
as his legs would let him go.
Just in time, our Colonel reined up, and below him he beheld a doleful
sight.
The Major had risen to his feet but was dripping with mud and water
that fell in little cascades from his face, head, and hands and every
part of his body.
The horse was plunging wildly in the river and the poor Major did not
seem to be able to see how to find his way to dry land.
[Illustration: THE MAJOR’S TUMBLE.]
If the Colonel had been a boy he would have had a good laugh at this
mishap of his companion, but as he was a man he tried not to add to the
discomfiture of the Major by making fun of him. But when the native
beaters came up they set up a shout of laughter, and that made the
Major angry enough, and as he wobbled slowly to shore he growled out to
the “black rascals” a command to stop their noise, and get his horse
out.
The black rascals, although they did see a good deal of fun in this
unfortunate tumble, proved themselves very useful, for they cleaned the
horse and saddle, and while the Major took a bath in the river, (at
a place where it was deeper and with a better bottom) they dried his
clothes and brushed them with bunches of twigs until they looked quite
presentable, and in the afternoon they all set out again on their hunt.
But the Major seemed doomed to misfortune that day. He had no spear,
for his weapon had been broken in the fall of the morning, and he had
sent one of the men back to the village to get him another.
But before the man returned a boar was started up and Colonel Myles
started off in pursuit. The boar dashed into the underbrush, the
Colonel and a dozen natives after him full tilt, and the farther that
boar ran the madder he got.
He didn’t like being chased, and I suppose no sensible boar would like
it.
Directly he made a sharp turn and rushed out of the bushes to the river
bank where the Major was sitting on his horse waiting for his spear.
Seeing a man on a horse the boar very naturally thought that he must be
the person who had been after him, and so, full of vengeance, he dashed
at him at full speed, his horrid tusks glistening in the sunlight.
Instantly the Major pulled his feet out of the stirrups and drew his
sword. There was no time to ride away.
But the sword was short, and the boar was very close to the horse, who
snorted and plunged so that the Major could scarcely keep his seat,
much less get a fair crack at the boar.
[Illustration: THE MAJOR AND THE BOAR.]
If the savage beast had succeeded in getting under the horse he would
have wounded him desperately.
But Major Alden was a cool and a brave man. He kept the horse away from
the boar as well as he could, and at last he got a good chance, and
down came his sword on the boar’s neck.
But this cut did not seem to cool the boar’s courage very much. The
savage animal still charged, the horse plunged and the Major slashed,
and so the fight went on—charge, plunge, slash, until the Colonel came
riding up with his spear, and soon put an end to the career of the
ferocious boar.
The next time the Major and Colonel Myles went out to hunt they went
after tigers.
Tiger hunting is very popular among the white residents of India, and
it is well that it is, for the natives do not often succeed so well in
their hunts after tigers, as the tigers succeed in their hunts after
the natives.
It is astonishing to read, in the government reports, how many people
are annually killed by tigers in some parts of India.
The Colonel’s first tiger hunt was not a very ambitious one. He did not
go out into the jungle on an elephant in company with forty or fifty
natives, but he and the Major, with two or three followers, started off
on foot. They walked a long distance without seeing a sign of tigers,
although they were in a place where two bullocks had been killed by
these animals the previous night.
Towards noon, however, one of the natives discovered the plain tracks
of a tiger, and the party followed the trail until they lost it in
a mass of rocks. In these rocks, however, was a large cave, and the
natives assured them that they would find the animal in this cave.
No one was particularly anxious to go into it to see if the tiger
was there, but, peering carefully in at the entrance of the cave,
the Colonel was sure that he saw something gleaming far back in the
darkness, and he thought that the bright spot must be one of the
tiger’s eyes.
To be sure, unless it was a one-eyed tiger, he ought to see two bright
spots, but he did not stop to consider this point, but took deliberate
aim at the spot and fired.
Nothing happened. No tiger jumped out.
Then the Major fired, although he was not quite certain that he did
see a shining spot. Still there was no sign of a tiger having been
shot. Even if the beast had been fairly hit by either of the shots, it
is likely that he would have made some disturbance inside the cave, for
tigers are very hard to kill.
Several other shots were fired without effect, and the hunters came to
the conclusion that there was no tiger in the cave.
[Illustration: OUT OF THE CAVE SPRANG AN ENORMOUS TIGER.]
However, they consented to let the natives try a plan that they
suggested. This was to smoke the tiger out of his hole. So great
quantities of dried leaves and twigs were collected, and thrust into
the mouth of the cave. While this work was going on, the men were very
enthusiastic about it, and ran up with their arms full of leaves and
sticks, seeming to entirely forget what a predicament they would be in
if a tiger should be within, and if he should make up his mind to come
out before they had finished their job.
When all was ready the dry stuff was fired, and very soon a great smoke
arose, and as the wind blew towards the rocks, most of the smoke went
into the cave.
In about three minutes a horrid growl was heard, and every darkey took
to his heels, one of them making about five jumps towards a distant
tree, up which he climbed like a monkey.
And they were none too quick. Out of the cave sprang an enormous tiger.
The two white men had their rifles to their shoulders in an instant,
and they fired almost simultaneously. The tiger did not stop, however,
but rushed on, apparently after one of the natives. But before he
reached him the Colonel fired the second barrel of his rifle, and
rolled the beast over. One or two more shots finished him.
This hunt was considered a great success, for the tiger was a very
large one, and was no doubt, the murderer of the bullocks. The natives
were delighted, and went to work to take off the skin, which was
awarded to our Colonel, who had fired the decisive shot.
While in the cave the tiger had probably been lying behind some rocks,
with only part of his head exposed. He had not cared to leave his
entrenchments while they were firing at him, but he evidently did not
like smoke.
The next time the Colonel and Major Alden went out after tigers they
were on an elephant. They rode in a large wooden box on the elephant’s
back, in which they could stand and fire without much fear of a tiger
getting at them. They had wonderful success, for they came upon no less
than five tigers, out in an open space. One of these was soon killed,
and the others ran away in different directions, like enormous kittens.
But before they got entirely away another was shot dead, and two more,
that ran behind some great rocks, were followed up, and killed before
night.
But one very large one slipped off, growling savagely, into some reeds
by the river bank, and was lost. This tiger was the largest and most
dangerous of the lot, and the man who drove the elephant said he knew
him very well.
He asserted that this tiger was a man-eater, as a tiger is called that
has once killed a human being. Ever afterward, according to the native
traditions, he has a strong liking for a man for dinner.
[Illustration: THEY CAME UPON NO LESS THAN FIVE TIGERS.]
The driver said he had seen him kill a man, and that he knew him by his
peculiar markings. Whether this story was true or not, it was evident
that this was a very large and dangerous beast, and ought to be killed,
if such a thing should prove possible.
So, a few days afterwards, a large hunt was organized, having for its
object the destruction of this particular tiger. The party went out
mounted on three elephants—two men in each _howdah_ or box, and a
driver on each elephant’s neck. Besides the riders, there were about
fifty natives on foot, who went along to beat up the bushes and make
themselves generally useful.
The Colonel and Major Alden were not together this time, but were on
different elephants. Colonel Myles’ companion was a military man who
was a very good shot and quite a noted tiger hunter. His name was
Captain Harrison, and our friend was very glad to go with him, because
he had the best elephants and was likely to see the best sport.
There is a very great difference in the elephants that are taken on
tiger hunts. Some of them will get frightened and run away the moment
they see or hear a tiger, and then the hunters on their backs have not
much of a chance to get a shot at the beasts. But others will stand
their ground bravely, and the elephant that carried the Colonel was
said to be one of these.
They rode on, close to the river bank for many a mile under a
dreadfully hot sun, and, a little after noon one of the men who had
mounted a tall tree shouted out that he had seen the tiger among the
reeds on the river bank not very far from the spot where our hunting
party sat quietly on their elephants.
Stones were now thrown into the bushes and several shots were fired by
the native hunters. But no tiger made his appearance. The thicket was
full of thorns and was very dense, and there were other reasons for not
entering it—one very good one.
So the shouting and the stone-throwing were continued, and that was
about all that was done for fifteen or twenty minutes.
Then one of the followers, who had a gun, crept on his hands and knees
to the edge of the thicket and peeped in under the bushes.
He looked all about and could see nothing, and then he cast his eyes to
one side, and there lay the tiger not ten feet from him!
It is amazing how quickly he drew back, jumped up, and ran off at the
top of his speed. As soon as he reached what he thought was a safe
distance he turned and fired at the spot where he had seen the tiger.
And what was very astonishing indeed, he hit it.
Up jumped the beast in a rage, and in an instant he bounded out of the
thicket into the open field.
He was all ready for a big fight, and he growled and gnashed his teeth
in a way that would have made your blood run cold.
Every body leveled their guns at him, but he did not give them time
to take a good aim, for he charged at headlong speed right for the
foremost elephant. The animal on which the Colonel and his friend were
mounted was a brave one, but he did not fancy such a tiger as this, and
he turned to run away.
But he was not quick enough. The tiger bounded at him like a flash and
had him by the trunk before he could lift it out of harm’s way.
The driver on the elephant’s neck drew up his legs in a hurry, and the
hunters leaned over their box to try and get a shot. But the elephant’s
head was in the way, and they could not get a fair sight at the tiger.
As for the poor elephant, he did not at all fancy having a tiger
chewing away at his trunk. So he bellowed and floundered about at a
great rate, but that did not seem to inconvenience the tiger, who held
on like a good fellow.
The other elephants and hunters were coming up, but they did not come
fast enough. The elephants seemed to be a little particular about their
trunks, and were in no haste to get near the beast that was hanging so
grimly to their big brother.
[Illustration: THE TIGER SEIZES THE ELEPHANT BY THE TRUNK.]
Then our elephant got tired of this sport. He gave his trunk a swing
under him at the same time that he made a step forward.
This brought the tiger just in front of his right foreleg.
Down knelt the elephant with one great knee directly upon the tiger’s
body.
The elephant weighed tons, and there was a dead tiger under his knee in
less than twenty seconds.
So here was a dangerous and noted tiger killed without a shot from the
brave hunters who went out after him. But they were none the less brave
for that.
The only man who did hit him was a coward, and the elephant that
killed him, would have run away if he could. Things turn out this way
sometimes.
I can only tell of one more of Colonel Myles’ hunts. He spent many
months in India and killed a good many tigers, for which he had the
thanks of the people and the approval of his own conscience—two things
that hunters do not always have, I can assure you.
His last hunt, as far as we are concerned, was a bear hunt. He heard
that a large bear had been seen a short distance from the place where
he was then encamped, and early the next day after receiving the news,
he went out with one native follower to see if he could find it. They
followed the tracks of the beast until they reached a place where there
were some very high rocks.
Mounting to the top of these they peeped over and saw, at the bottom of
a ravine beneath, the mouth of a cave that appeared to extend under the
rocks a short distance.
In this cave, lying with his head on his paws, they distinctly saw a
large bear, fast asleep. He was, however, in such a position that it
would be very hard to get a good shot at him.
The Colonel then thought of a plan to make him come out. To be sure
they might have hurled stones at him or shouted, but in either case
the bear might have been frightened and drawn himself into his cave,
entirely out of sight, or he might have rushed up the rocks faster than
they would like to have him come.
The Colonel wanted him to come out of his cave, but to stay down at the
bottom of the ravine.
So he whispered to his man to unroll his long turban and to get out on
the branches of a tree that overhung the mouth of the cave. Then he was
to lower the turban down and tickle the bear’s nose.
The man did as he was told, and, as the turban was just long enough to
reach the bear’s nose, he was able to tickle him nicely.
At first the bear just fidgeted a little and then he made a dab with
his paw at the supposed fly that was worrying him.
But the turban continued to tickle him, and at last he woke up with a
start. When he saw the turban hanging before him he made a snap at it,
and then the man jerked it away.
[Illustration: THE BEAR GAVE THE TURBAN A VIGOROUS PULL.]
Up jumped the bear, just like a cat after a handkerchief. He made a
bound after the turban and seized it with his paws and teeth.
He jumped so suddenly and gave the turban such a vigorous pull that the
man came very near being jerked out of the tree, which might have been
bad for him, but our Colonel, who was ready with his rifle, fired and
killed the bear instantly. He was a big fellow and had a splendid skin.
When the Colonel sailed for home he carried with him half a dozen
bear and tiger skins. They were all fine ones, but the best of them,
a magnificent skin that had once belonged to a very large and savage
Bengal tiger, was a particular favorite with him, and he now has it on
his library floor, just before the big grate where he sits and reads on
winter evenings.
And yet he did not kill the tiger to which the skin belonged. He cannot
point to it as an evidence of his bravery and skill in the jungles of
India.
It is the skin of the tiger that the elephant killed with his knee.
A SUGAR CAMP.
When I was a boy I knew no more about a “sugar camp” than I knew of a
molasses-candy fort.
[Illustration: THE SUGAR CAMP.]
In fact I would probably have thought one as ridiculous as the other,
if it had been mentioned to me.
This was because I did not live in a maple-sugar country. I had eaten
maple-sugar, but I had no idea how it was made, and when I first saw a
sugar-camp, out in the woods, I was both surprised and interested.
In the first place it was not a camp at all—according to my idea—for
what the people at the farm-house where I was visiting, called the camp
was a house—a very rough one, but still a house. I expected to find
tents and big camp-fires under the trees. I found a fire, but it was in
the house.
It was in February that I went out to the camp, and although there was
still snow on the ground, the day was mild and pleasant.
The men were all at work when I arrived, and I wandered about, looking
at everything and asking questions.
The camp was in the middle of a large grove of sugar-maple trees, and
in each of the large trees a hole had been bored, and a little spout,
made of a piece of elder wood, with the pith scooped out, had been
inserted in each hole. Through these spouts the sap was dripping into
pans and wooden troughs, placed at the foot of each tree.
As fast as these pans and troughs were filled they were taken to the
house and emptied into boilers that were suspended over the fire. Here
the sap boiled away at a great rate, and the men took turns in stirring
it so that it should not burn.
I found that this sugar-making was quite a tedious operation, as the
sap had to be boiled twice, and a great deal of care and time was spent
upon it before it cooled down into the hard, light-brown maple sugar of
which most boys and girls are so fond.
But I saw enough to make me understand the principles of the business.
I found that when the sap began to rise in the trees, in the early
spring, there was always enough of it to supply the needs of the tree,
and a good deal besides to supply the needs of the sugar-makers.
I watched all the processes, and tasted the sap when it first flowed
from the tree and in all its different stages. And when I went back
to the farm-house, early in the afternoon, I thought that it would be
a great thing to have a grove of sugar-maples, and to be able to make
one’s own sugar, and to be independent, in that respect at least, of
the grocery-store.
I had not yet taken a meal at the farm-house, for I had arrived that
day after breakfast, and had gone out to the camp soon afterward.
When supper-time came—and long before in fact—I was very hungry, having
had but a lunch in the woods. And so I ate bravely of the good things
that were so bountifully spread upon the table. But when I came to
drink my tea, which was sweetened with maple-sugar, I did not like it.
And the more I drank the less I cared to own a sugar-maple grove, and
brighter and brighter became the visions of the grocery store, with
its savory smells, and its great bins of sugar from the sugar-canes of
Louisiana and Cuba.
When supper was over I had not finished my cup of tea, but I had
changed my mind completely about the desirableness of owning a
sugar-maple grove, and making one’s own sugar.
SILVER-PLATING.
The precious metals are gold, silver, and platinum. They are so called
because they are rare and costly. Platinum is the most rare, and is
used only to a very moderate extent. Gold is more plentiful; and
silver much more abundant, though sufficiently rare to be considered a
precious metal.
[Illustration: BATTERY FOR SILVER-PLATING.]
We do not often hear of articles of table service of solid gold,
though solid silver is comparatively common. But, with the help of
electricity, skilled workmen are able to cover the cheaper metals with
one or more coatings of gold or silver, and the articles thus treated,
look like solid gold or silver.
A very small quantity of the precious metals will plate a large number
of articles; but even with this small amount of gold, the gold-plated
substances are too costly to be in general use; though it is quite
common to line silver-plated articles with a thin plate of gold.
Exceedingly beautiful things are made of silver-plated ware, for table
service especially, but it is also much used for ornaments, and even
statues and statuettes are made of it, as well as a great variety of
useful things.
As you are in the habit of seeing so many silver-plated articles I
think you will be interested if I tell you, briefly, how the plating
is done. But you will understand my description better if you know
something about the galvanic battery, and the laws which govern its
action, and if you have not studied this matter, any one of your
acquaintance who possesses an electrical machine, will no doubt take
pleasure in explaining it to you.
I am supposing you did not know before that the same agent which
causes the lightning to flash from the clouds, puts the silver on your
tea-spoons.
After the article to be silver-plated has been formed out of some cheap
metal, or a metallic composition, it is thoroughly cleansed; for there
must not be the very slightest taint of greasiness or dirt upon the
surface. The method of cleaning depends upon the metal; some are burned
in the fire, and some are purified with alkalies. They are next washed
in acids, then scoured with sand or pumice stone, and washed, and
brushed. They are now clean, and are dried in sawdust to avoid handling
and soiling.
All of these operations have to be carefully done. They are generally
performed by women.
They are then taken to the gilder to receive their deposit of metal,
whether zinc, copper, gold, or silver.
Our articles, you know, are to be silver-plated. They are therefore
placed in a fluid chemical mixture contained in a box of wood,
stoneware, or some other non-metallic substance, which is called the
bath.
Through the liquid contained in this bath, the electrical current is
passed in this way. The wires of a galvanic battery are connected
with two metal rods lying across the box. The things to be plated are
hung by metal hooks to one of these rods—which communicates with the
negative pole of the battery. To the other rod, which communicates
with the positive pole of the battery, is hung a piece of silver. This
completes the circuit, and the electrical fluid passes from pole to
pole, going from the battery into the rods, and through the metallic
hooks, and articles hung upon them, into the liquid. The silver on the
positive side is dissolved by the electricity, and deposited in a thin
layer upon the articles on the negative side.
It requires a perfect knowledge of the business to know just how to
manage all these matters, so that the deposit shall leave an even
surface. There are many little secrets, known only to manufacturers,
which enable them to increase the beauty of the plating.
But the articles are not ready for use as soon as plated. A good
deal is to be done to them in the way of brushing, polishing, and
burnishing. And then they often have to be ornamented in plain designs,
or with garlands of flowers, or sprays of leaves. Sometimes figures
of men or animals are moulded upon them. Occasionally, for splendid
objects of art, the leaves and flowers are colored their natural tints.
VERY ANCIENT ANIMALS.
If you boys never went on a “possum hunt” you have missed a good deal
of fun. I really cannot tell which enjoys this hunt the most, men,
or boys, or dogs. I think we can guess pretty well which enjoys it
least—the opossum. If he gets safely off, though, as he does very
often, I have no doubt he enjoys thinking over the chase, and laughs to
himself at the way he outwitted dogs and men; for, of course, he would
put the dogs first, as being of the greater importance in his eyes.
[Illustration: ANTEDILUVIAN OPOSSUM.]
Moonlight nights are the times to hunt opossums. Where these animals
go in the day-time I am sure I don’t know, but they roll themselves
up in a ball, and sleep soundly somewhere, entirely out of the way of
everybody. But, at night, they are awake and active, and look up their
food.
And then it is that we look them up for food; and for the fun of the
hunt. More for the fun, I am afraid, than the food; for we get plenty
to eat without going after wild animals; whereas the poor opossum looks
for his food because he is really hungry.
We start off, on some fine moonlight night, a party of men and boys. We
are in high spirits, and laugh and talk, and have a good time. The dogs
are in high spirits too, and run and frisk gaily about. But when we
approach the woods we grow quiet and begin to look around expectantly.
The dogs understand perfectly what business we are upon, and know that
we rely upon them to “tree” the game. So they trot soberly on before
us, turning to the right or left as their scent leads them.
Presently they come upon an opossum. The animal starts off on a fast
run. Then follows a mad stampede of dogs, boys and men. No need now to
keep quiet. We crash through bushes and briers. Finally the opossum,
seeing that the dogs are gaining upon him, takes refuge in a tree. Up
he goes, like a flash, to the very topmost branches, curls his tail and
legs around a limb, tucks his head under the fur of his breast, hangs
limp, and pretends to be dead.
He thinks now he is safe, but we know we have him sure. For we have
axes with us, and we cut down the tree. The opossum makes no effort
to get away while the noise of cutting and the shaking of the tree is
going on. And when the tree comes down, Mr. “Possum” is ours.
His flesh tastes like young pig, only more tender and delicate.
But, you will say, this picture is not like our opossums. It does not
seem very much like one at first sight, but, on looking closer, you
will see several points of resemblance. Our opossum carries its young
in a pouch sometimes, and sometimes on its back, and this one, you see,
has its three cunning little young ones on its back, with their dear
little tails curled lovingly around their mother’s big tail. It has a
long prehensile tail, and long flexible feet, so that it can fasten
itself to the branches of trees just as ours do. Its fur is pretty much
the same. In some respects it is not like ours.
[Illustration: LABYRINTHODON.]
There are no opossums now just like this one. This species lived before
the flood; and is, therefore, antediluvian. The animal in the picture
was never hunted by men and dogs, because neither men nor dogs existed
in his days. I think it should make us feel a little ashamed, when we
are chasing opossums, to think that their ancestors had possession of
the world before ours.
If men had lived in those days they would have had some queer game. How
would you like to hunt a Labyrinthodon?
This remarkable beast lived about the same time as the antediluvian
opossum. Not a very agreeable acquaintance to meet face to face. A
glance at his teeth would be sufficient to make one’s hair stand on
end. How awful he must have looked with his mouth open! I think he
would have made but two mouthfuls of the Cardiff giant if he had had a
bite at him before he turned into stone.
[Illustration: ANOPLOTHERIUM.]
Do you notice the strange way his teeth are placed, working in and
out of each other? This suggests a labyrinth, and hence his name,
Labyrinthodon.
You may not recognise him as a toad, but such he was, and was as big as
an ox.
So the toad in the fable, which, you remember, attempted to swell
himself to the size of an ox, and came to grief thereby, was only
trying to make himself such as his forefathers had been.
The opossum was about the best-looking animal on the earth in those
days. The rest were nearly all frightful monsters. There was the
Ichthyosaurus, a great fish-lizard, thirty feet long, and ten times
more dreadful than the present crocodiles. Then there was the
Plesiosaurus, which had the body and feet of a turtle, only many times
larger, a short stumpy tail, and a neck like a serpent, thirty feet
long. And the Pterodactyls, like huge bats, with birds’ heads, and very
long bills.
After this race of animals died off there appeared upon the earth a
better-looking set. But these, too, all died long before the deluge,
and we have none of them now.
One of these, the Anoplotherium, is supposed to have been something
like our otter, but it was much larger; and I don’t think, myself from
the pictures we have of him, that the likeness is very strong.
ITURIM, AND HIS FORTUNES.
The Antis Indians live in the mountainous districts of Peru. They have
a proverb: “From happiness to misfortune is only a flea-leap.”
Iturim proved the truth of this very early in life. He was a young
Antis who had been so successful in his various journeys to the cities
on the coast, where he sold apes and birds, that he was able to build
and furnish a fine house; to adorn his person bravely; and to take a
wife.
This lucky fellow did not even have to make a clearing in the woods
for his house. He found in the forest, just in the right place, an
open space, containing only a small grove of palms. These graceful
trees would make a pleasant shade for his dwelling, and the forest was
sufficiently distant not to make it close and hot.
If this clearing had been upon the bank of the river it would not have
answered his purpose. For the Antis always make the clearings for their
dwellings at a little distance from a water-course, taking care to have
a thick growth between them and a river. Otherwise Indians who are
not friendly to them would see the houses while paddling by in their
canoes, and seize upon the first opportunity to steal everything they
contained.