"These changes seem connected with a great development of the wild

habits, and attachment to, and knowledge of, the localities where they

have first seen the light. As the _barbata_ is until this period in

reality a land animal, the chief difficulty we have to surmount with it

is in the quality of the milk to be given it. The _vitulina_ is

essentially an inhabitant of the water from its birth, yet the care of

the mother is perhaps for weeks necessary to judge how long and how

often it should be on land, and this we can hardly expect to imitate. In

the young of this species a few days old, which we have tried to rear, a

want of knowledge of this kind of management may have led to failure. I

have not attempted to rear them at a greater age.

"The Greenland seal is, I have been informed, occasionally kept for a

month or two on board the whalers, and thrives sufficiently well on the

flesh of sea-birds. This species appears to bring forth in January, and

therefore it is subjected to captivity.

"I know but comparatively little of its capability of being easily

tamed; but this quality, of itself, is no evidence of superior

intelligence.

"Might it not be easy to induce Greenland shipmasters to bring some of

these animals to England, where they would be accessible to the

observation of zoologists.

"One mode of attempting to tame them might be to take half-grown animals

in a net, or surprise them on land, and then keep them in salt-water

ponds in a semi-domestic state: if any of them were pregnant when

caught, or could be got to breed, the main difficulty would be

overcome."

Long as these extracts are, they possess great interest as being derived

from observations on living animals made by one who was a friend of the

Duke of Wellington, and was always welcomed by him. His northern Island

of Unst is a fine field for studying marine animals. The sweeping

currents of the Arctic oceans bring creatures to the quiet voes and

sounds. Shetland in spring, summer, and autumn is a favoured locality

for the naturalist and painter.

THE WALRUS.

There was some likelihood, a few years ago, that a most attractive

animal would be added to the collection of the Zoological Society. But,

unfortunately for the public gratification, as well as the remuneration

of the spirited captain who brought the creature, it reached the gardens

in a dying state, and only survived a few days. But it is not the first

of its family which has travelled so far to the southward. Nearly 250

years ago a specimen was brought alive by some of the Arctic

adventurers, and excited no little surprise, as old Purchas tells us. It

was in the year 1608, when "the king and many honourable personages

beheld it with admiration, for the strangeness of the same, the like

whereof had never before beene seene alive in England. Not long after it

fell sicke and died. As the beast in shape is very strange, so is it of

strange docilitie, and apt to be taught, as by good experience we often

proved."

The figure which accompanies this paper was drawn from our late lamented

visitor by Mr Wolf, who sketched it before its removal to the Zoological

Gardens. Captain Henry caught it during a whaling expedition, and sent

it to London. Though quite young, it was nearly four feet in length; and

when the person who used to feed it came into the room, it would give

him an affectionate greeting, in a voice somewhat resembling the cry of

a calf, but considerably louder. It walked about, but, owing to its

weakness, soon grew tired, and lay down. Unlike the seals, to which it

is closely allied, the walrus has considerable power with its limbs when

out of the water, and can support its bulky body quite clear of the

ground. Its mode of progression, however, is awkward when compared with

ordinary quadrupeds; its hind-limbs shuffling along, as if inclosed in a

sack. In some future season, when a lively specimen reaches the Gardens,

and is accommodated with an extensive tank of water, there is no reason

why the walrus should not thrive as well as the seal, or his close,

though not kind, neighbour of the North, the Polar bear.

[Illustration: The Walrus.]

The walrus, _morse_, or _sea-horse_ (_Trichechus rosmarus_, Linn.[147]),

is one of the most characteristic inhabitants of the Arctic regions.

There it is widely distributed, and thence it seldom wanders. One or two

specimens were killed on the shores of the northern Scottish islands in

1817 and 1825; but these instances seem hardly to admit of its

introduction into our _fauna_, any more than West Indian beans, brought

by the currents, are admissible into our _flora_. It is mentioned by

some old Scottish writers[148] among our native animals, and at one time

may have been carried to our coasts on some of the bergs, which are

occasionally seen in the German Ocean after the periodical disruptions

of the Arctic ice. Like the Polar bear, however, the walrus has

evidently been formed by its Creator for a life among icy seas, and

there it is now found often in large herds. Captain Beechey and other

voyagers to the seas around Spitzbergen, describe them as being

particularly abundant on the western coast of that inclement island. The

captain says that in fine weather they resort to large pieces of ice at

the edge of the main body, where herds of them may be seen of sometimes

more than a hundred individuals each. "In these situations they appear

greatly to enjoy themselves, rolling and sporting about, and frequently

making the air resound with their bellowing, which bears some

resemblance to that of a bull. These diversions generally end in sleep,

during which these wary animals appear always to take the precaution of

having a sentinel to warn them of any danger." The only warning,

however, which the sentinel gives, is by seeking his own safety; in

effecting which, as the herd lie huddled on one another like swine, the

motion of one is speedily communicated to the whole, and they instantly

tumble, one over the other, into the sea, head-foremost, if possible;

but failing that, anyhow.

Scoresby remarks that the front part of the head of the young walrus,

without tusks, when seen at a distance, is not unlike the human face. It

has the habit of raising its head above the water to look at ships and

other passing objects; and when seen in such a position, it may have

given rise to some of the stories of mermaids.

There is still a considerable uncertainty as to the food of the walrus.

Cook found no traces of aliment in the stomachs of those shot by his

party. Crantz says that in Greenland shell-fish and sea-weeds seem to be

its only subsistence. Scoresby found shrimps, a kind of craw-fish, and

the remains of young seals, in the stomachs of those which he examined.

Becchey mentions, that in the inside of several specimens he found

numerous granite pebbles larger than walnuts. These may be taken for the

same purpose that some birds, especially of the gallinaceous order,

swallow bits of gravel. Dr Von Baer concludes, from an analysis of all

the published accounts, that the walrus is omnivorous.[149] A specimen

that died at St Petersburg was fed on oatmeal mixed with turnips or

other vegetables; and the little fellow, who lately died in the Regent's

Park, seems to have been fed by the sailors on oatmeal porridge.

One of the chief characteristics of the walrus is the presence of two

elongated tusks (the canine teeth) in the upper jaw. According to

Crantz, it uses these to scrape mussels and other shell-fish from the

rocks and out of the sand, and also to grapple and get along with, for

they enable it to raise itself on the ice. They are also powerful

weapons of defence against the Polar bear and its other enemies.

The walrus attains a great size. Twelve feet is the length of a fine

specimen in the British Museum. Beechey's party found some of them

fourteen feet in length and nine feet in girth, and of such prodigious

weight that they could scarcely turn them over.

Gratifying accounts are given of the attachment of the female to its

young, and the male occasionally assists in their defence when exposed

to danger, or at least in revenging the attack. Lord Nelson, when a lad,

was coxwain to one of the ships of Phipps's expedition to the Arctic

seas, and commanded a boat, which was the means of saving a party

belonging to the other ship from imminent danger. "Some of the officers

had fired at and wounded a walrus. As no other animal," says Southey,

"has so human-like an expression in its countenance, so also is there

none that seems to possess more of the passions of humanity. The wounded

animal dived immediately, and brought up a number of its companions; and

they all joined in an attack upon the boat. They wrested an oar from one

of the men; and it was with the utmost difficulty that the crew could

prevent them from staving or upsetting her, till the _Carcass's_ boat

(commanded by young Horatio Nelson) came up: and the walruses, finding

their enemies thus reinforced, dispersed." And Captain Beechey gives the

following pleasing picture of maternal affection which he witnessed in

the seas around Spitzbergen: "We were greatly amused by the singular and

affectionate conduct of a walrus towards its young. In the vast sheet of

ice which surrounded the ships, there were occasionally many pools; and

when the weather was clear and warm, animals of various kinds would

frequently rise and sport about in them, or crawl from thence upon the

ice to bask in the warmth of the sun. A walrus rose in one of these

pools close to the ship, and, finding everything quiet, dived down and

brought up its young, which it held to its breast by pressing it with

its flipper. In this manner it moved about the pool, keeping in an erect

posture, and always directing the face of the young towards the vessel.

On the slightest movement on board, the mother released her flipper, and

pushed the young one under water; but, when everything was again quiet,

brought it up as before, and for a length of time continued to play

about in the pool, to the great amusement of the seamen, who gave her

credit for abilities in tuition, which, though possessed of considerable

sagacity, she hardly merited."

The walrus has two great enemies in its icy home--the Polar bear and the

Esquimaux. Captain Beechey thus graphically describes the manoeuvres

of that king of the Bruin race, which must often be attended with

success. The bears, when hungry, are always on the watch for animals

sleeping upon the ice, and try to come on them unawares, as their prey

darts through holes in the ice. "One sunshiny day a walrus, of nine or

ten feet length, rose in a pool of water not very far from us; and after

looking around, drew his greasy carcase upon the ice, where he rolled

about for a time, and at length laid himself down to sleep. A bear,

which had probably been observing his movements, crawled carefully upon

the ice on the opposite side of the pool, and began to roll about also,

but apparently more with design than amusement, as he progressively

lessened the distance that intervened between him and his prey. The

walrus, suspicious of his advances, drew himself up preparatory to a

precipitate retreat into the water in case of a nearer acquaintance with

his playful but treacherous visitor; on which the bear was instantly

motionless, as if in the act of sleep; but after a time began to lick

his paws, and clean himself, occasionally encroaching a little more upon

his intended prey. But even this artifice did not succeed; the wary

walrus was far too cunning to allow himself to be entrapped, and

suddenly plunged into the pool; which the bear no sooner observed than

he threw off all disguise, rushed towards the spot, and followed him in

an instant into the water, where, I fear, he was as much disappointed in

his meal, as we were of the pleasure of witnessing a very interesting

encounter."

The meat of the walrus is not despised by Europeans, and its heart is

reckoned a delicacy. To the Esquimaux there is no greater treat than a

kettle well filled with walrus-blubber; and to the natives along

Behring's Straits this quadruped is as valuable as is the palm to the

sons of the desert. Their canoes are covered with its skin; their

weapons and sledge-runners, and many useful articles, are formed from

its tusks; their lamps are filled with its oil; and they themselves are

fed with its fat and its fibre. So thick is the skin, that a bayonet is

almost the only weapon which can pierce it. Cut into shreds, it makes

excellent cordage, being especially adapted for wheel-ropes. The tusks

bear a high commercial value, and are extensively employed by dentists

in the manufacture of artificial teeth. The fat of a good-sized specimen

yields thirty gallons of oil.--_A. White, from "Excelsior."_

FOOTNOTES:

[144] "A Tour in Tartan-Land," by Cuthbert Bede.

[145] "Life," vol. iii. p. 188.

[146] Vol. viii. pp. 1-16.

[147] _Trichechus_, from the Greek [Greek: trichas echon], "having

hairs:" _walrus_, the German _wallross_, "whale-horse."

[148] See Fleming's "British Animals," p. 19.

[149] Mem. Acad. Imp. Sc. St. Petersb., 1838, p. 232. Professor Owen has

communicated to the Zoological Society the anatomy of the young walrus;

and much valuable information will be found in Dr Gray's "Catalogue of

Mammalia in the British Museum."

KANGAROOS.

What dissertation on the strange outward form, or stranger mode of

reproduction to which this famed member of the _Marsupialia_ belongs,

could contain as much in little space as Charles Lamb's happy

description in his letter to Baron Field, his "distant correspondent" in

New South Wales? When that was written, and for long after, it may be

necessary to tell some, Australia was chiefly known as the land of the

convict.

"Tell me," writes Elia, "what your Sidneyites do? Are they th-v-ng all

day long? Merciful heaven! what property can stand against such a

depredation? The kangaroos--your aborigines--do they keep their

primitive simplicity un-Europe-tainted, with those little short

forepuds, looking like a lesson framed by nature to the pickpocket!

Marry, for diving into fobs they are rather lamely provided _a priori_;

but if the hue and cry were once up, they would show as fair a pair of

hind-shifters as the expertest locomotor in the colony."[150]

In one of his letters to another of his favoured correspondents he

alludes to his friend Field having gone to a country where there are so

many thieves that even the kangaroos have to wear their pockets in

front, lest they be picked!

KANGAROO COOKE.

Major-General Henry Frederick Cooke, C.B. and K.C.H., commonly called

Kang-Cooke, was a captain in the Coldstream Guards, and aide-de-camp to

the Duke of York. He was called the kangaroo by his intimate associates.

It is said that this arose from his once having let loose a cageful of

these animals at Pidcock's Menagerie, or from his answer to the Duke of

York, who, inquiring how he fared in the Peninsula, replied that he

"could get nothing to eat but kangaroo."[151] Moore, in his Diary,[152]

December 13, 1820, records that he dined with him and others at Lord

Granard's. Cooke told of Admiral Cotton once (at Lisbon, I think) saying

during dinner, "Make signals for the _Kangaroo_ to get under way;" and

Cooke, who had just been expressing his anxiety to leave Lisbon, thought

the speech alluded to his nickname, and considered it an extraordinary

liberty for one who knew so little of him as Admiral Cotton to take. He

found out afterwards, however, that his namesake was a sloop-of-war.

FOOTNOTES:

[150] "Distant Correspondents," in the Essays of Elia, first series ed.

1841, p. 67.

[151] Jesse's "Life of Beau Brummell," vol. i. p. 288.

[152] "Memoirs, Correspondence," &c., edited by Lord John Russell, vol.

iii. p. 179.

THE TIGER-WOLF.

(_Thylacinus cynocephalus._)

The great order, or rather division, of mammalia, the

_Marsupialia_,[153] is furnished with a pouch, into which the young are

received and nourished at a very early period of their existence. The

first species of the group, known to voyagers and naturalists, was the

celebrated opossum of North America, whose instinctive care to defend

itself from danger causes it to feign the appearance of death. As the

great continent of Australia became known, it was found that the great

mass of its mammalia, from the gigantic kangaroo to the pigmy,

mouse-like potoroo, belonged to this singular order. The order contains

a most anomalous set of animals, some being exclusively carnivorous,

some chiefly subsisting on insects, while others browse on grass; and

many live on fruits and leaves, which they climb trees to procure; a

smaller portion subsisting on roots, for which they burrow in the

ground. The gentle and deer-faced kangaroo belongs to this order; the

curious bandicoots, the tree-frequenting phalangers and petauri, the

savage "native devil,"[154] and the voracious subject of this notice.

The "tiger-wolf" is a native of Van Diemen's Land, and is strictly

confined to that island. It was first described in the ninth volume of

the "Linnean Transactions," under the name of _Didelphis cynocephalus_,

or "dog-headed opossum," the English name being an exact translation of

its Latin one. Its non-prehensile tail, peculiar feet, and different

arrangement of teeth, pointed out to naturalists that it entered into a

genus distinct from the American opossums; and to this genus the name of

_Thylacinus_[155] has been applied; its specific name _cynocephalus_

being still retained in conformity with zoological nomenclature,

although M. Temminck, the founder of the genus, honoured the species

with the name of its first describer, and called it _Thylacinus

Harrisii_.

Mr Gould has given a short account of this quadruped in his great work,

"The Mammals of Australia," accompanied with two plates, one showing the

head of the male, of the natural size, in such a point of view as to

exhibit the applicability of one of the names applied to it by the

colonists, that of "zebra-wolf." He justly remarks that it must be

regarded as by far the most formidable of all the marsupial animals, as

it certainly is the most savage indigenous quadruped belonging to the

Australian continent. Although it is too feeble to make a successful

attack on man, it commits great havoc among the smaller quadrupeds of

the country; and to the settler it is a great object of dread, as his

poultry and other domestic animals are never safe from its attacks. His

sheep are, especially, an object of the colonist's anxious care, as he

can house his poultry, and thus secure them from the prowler; but his

flocks, wandering about over the country, are liable to be attacked at

night by the tiger-wolf, whose habits are strictly nocturnal. Mr Gunn

has seen some so large and powerful that a number of dogs would not face

one of them. It has become an object with the settler to destroy every

specimen he can fall in with, so that it is much rarer than it was at

the time Mr Harris, its first describer, wrote its history, at least in

the cultivated districts. Much, however, of Van Diemen's Land is still

in a state of nature, and as large tracts of forest-land remain yet

uncleared, there is abundance of covert for it still in the more remote

parts of the colony, and it is even now often seen at Woolnoth and among

the Hampshire hills. In such places it feeds on the smaller species of

kangaroos and other marsupials,--bandicoots, and kangaroo-rats, while

even the prickle-covered echidna--a much more formidable mouthful than

any hedgehog--supplies the tiger-wolf with a portion of its sustenance.

The specimen described by Mr Harris was caught in a trap baited with the

flesh of the kangaroo. When opened, the remains of a half-digested

echidna[156] were found in its stomach.

The tiger-wolf has a certain amount of daintiness in its appetite when

in a state of nature. From the observations of Mr Gunn it would seem

that nothing will induce it to prey on the wombat,[157] a fat, sluggish,

marsupial quadruped, abundant in the districts which it frequents, and

whose flesh would seem to be very edible, seeing that it lives on fruits

and roots. No sooner, however, was the sheep introduced than the

tiger-wolf began to attack the flocks, and has ever since shown a most

unmistakable appetite for mutton, preferring the flesh of that most

useful and easily-mastered quadruped to that of any kangaroo however

venison-like, or bandicoot however savoury. The colonists of Van

Diemen's land have applied various names to this animal, according as

its resemblance to other ferocious quadrupeds of different climates

struck their fancy. The names of "tiger," "hyena," and "zebra-wolf," are

partly acquired from its ferocity, somewhat corresponding with that of

these well-known carnivorous denizens of other lands, and partly from

the black bands which commence behind the shoulders, and which extend in

length on the haunches, and resemble in some faint measure those on the

barred tyrant of the Indian jungles, and the other somewhat similarly

ornamented mammalia implied in the names. These bars are well relieved

by the general grayish-brown colour of the fur, which is somewhat woolly

in its texture, from each of the hairs of which it is composed being

waved.

The specimens in the Zoological Gardens are very shy and restless; when

alarmed they dash and leap about their dens and utter a short guttural

cry somewhat resembling a bark. This shyness is partly to be attributed

to their imperfect vision by day, and partly to their resemblance in

character to the wolf, whose treachery and suspicious manners in

confinement must have struck every one who has gazed on this "gaunt

savage" in his den in the Regent's Park. The specimens exhibited are the

first living members of the species first brought to Europe. The male

was taken in November 1849, and the female at an earlier period in the

same year, on the upper part of St Patrick's River, about thirty miles

north-east of Launceston. After being gradually accustomed to

confinement by Mr Gunn, they were shipped for this country, and reached

the Gardens in the spring of 1850. It is very seldom, indeed, that they

are caught alive; and when so caught they are generally at once killed,

so that it was with some difficulty and by offering a considerable

pecuniary inducement to the shepherds, that they were at last secured

for the Zoological Society.[158] In their den they show great activity,

and can bound upwards nearly to the roof of the place where they are

confined.--_A. White, from "Excelsior."_

FOOTNOTES:

[153] So called from the Latin word _marsupium_, a pouch.

[154] _Diabolus ursinus_, the ursine opossum of Van Diemen's Land, a

great destroyer of young lambs.

[155] From the Greek words for a pouch and a dog, [Greek: thylakos] and

[Greek: kuon]. Dr Gray had previously named it _Peracyon_, from [Greek:

pera], a bag, and [Greek: kuon], a dog.

[156] _Echidna aculeata_, or _E. hystrix_, the porcupine ant-eater, a

curious edentate, spine-covered quadruped, closely allied to the still

stranger _Ornithorhynchus_, the duck-bill.

[157] _Phascolomys Vombatus,_ a curious, broad-backed, and large-headed

marsupial, two specimens of which are in the Zoological Gardens. It is a

burrower, and in the teeth it resembles the rodent animals; hence its

name, from [Greek: phaskolon], a pouch, and [Greek: mus], a mouse.

SQUIRREL: ARCTIC LEMMING.

The one with its long plume-like tail, organised for a life among trees,

the other with its home in the arctic regions, belong to an order not

generally distinguished for intelligence, although, the beaver, once

reputed a miracle of mind, belongs to it. The glirine or rodent animals

are generally of small or moderate size, though some, like the

water-loving capybara, are of considerable dimensions.

The squirrel is a fine subject for a painter. There is a picture by Sir

Edwin Landseer, of a squirrel and bullfinch. On an engraving of it,

published in 1865, is inscribed "a pair of nut-crackers,"--a happy

title, and very apposite.

Jekyll saw in Colman's chambers a squirrel in the usual round cage. "Ah!

poor devil," said Jekyll, "he's going the _home circuit_."[159]

If you come upon a squirrel on the ground, he is not long in getting to

the topmost branch of the highest tree, so perfectly is he adapted for

"rising" at a "bar"!

PETS OF SOME OF THE REVOLUTIONARY BUTCHERS. A SQUIRREL.

Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, Bart., in his novel, "Zanoni,"[160] pictures

Citizen Couthon fondling a little spaniel "that he invariably carried in

his bosom, even to the Convention, as a vent for the exuberant

sensibilities which overflowed his affectionate heart."

In a note the novelist remarks--

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