without even appearing to move, she had drawn closer and closer. Her
pink nostrils trembled, her eyes were half shut, her claws were pushed
out and pulled into their sheaths, and little shivers ran down her
back.
Suddenly her back rounded itself like a bent bow, and with one bound
she leapt on the cage. The parrot knew his danger, and was too
frightened to move; then, calling up all his courage, he looked his
enemy full in the face, and, in a low and deep voice he put the
question: 'Jacky, did you have a good breakfast?'
This simple phrase struck terror into the heart of the cat, who made a
spring backwards. If a cannon had been fired close to her ear, or a
shopful of glass had been broken, she could not have been more
alarmed. Never had she dreamed of anything like this.
'And what did you have--some of the king's roast beef?' continued the
parrot.
'It is not a chicken, it is a man that is speaking,' thought the cat
with amazement, and looking at her master, who was standing by, she
retired under the bed. Madame Theophile knew when she was beaten.
_THE BATTLE OF THE MULLETS AND THE DOLPHINS_
Many singular stories may be found in Pliny, but the most interesting
is how men and dolphins combine together on the coast of France, near
Narbonne, to catch the swarms of mullet that come into those waters at
certain seasons of the year.
[Illustration: HOW THE DOLPHINS HELPED THE FISHERMEN TO CATCH THE
MULLETS]
'In Languedoc, within the province of Narbonne, there is a standing
pool or dead water called Laterra, wherein men and dolphins together
used to fish; for at one certain time of the year an infinite number
of fishes called mullets, taking the vantage of the tide when the
water doth ebb, at certain narrow weirs and passages with great force
break forth of the said pool into the sea; and by reason of that
violence no nets can be set and pitched against them strong enough to
abide and bear their huge weight and the stream of the water together,
if so be men were not cunning and crafty to wait and espie their time
and lay for them and to entrap them. In like manner the mullets for
their part immediately make speed to recover the deep, which they do
very soon by reason that the Channel is near at hand; and their only
haste is for this, to escape and pass that narrow place which
affordeth opportunities to the fishers to stretch out and spread their
nets. The fishermen being ware thereof and all the people besides (for
the multitude knowing when fishing time is come, run thither, and the
rather for to see the pleasant sport), cry as loud as ever they can to
the dolphins for aid, and call "Simo, Simo," to help to make an end of
this their game and pastime of fishing. The dolphins soon get the ear
of their cry and know what they would have, and the better if the
north winds blow and carry the sound unto them; for if it be a
southern wind it is later ere the voice be heard, because it is
against them. Howbeit, be the wind in what quarter soever, the
dolphins resort thither flock-meal, sooner than a man would think, for
to assist them in their fishing. And a wondrous pleasant sight it is
to behold the squadrons as it were of those dolphins, how quickly they
take their places and be arranged in battle array, even against the
very mouth of the said pool, where the mullets are to shoot into the
sea, to see (I say) how from the sea they oppose themselves and fight
against them and drive the mullets (once affrighted and scared) from
the deep on the shelves. Then come the fishers and beset them with net
and toile, which they bear up and fortify with strong forks; howbeit,
for all that, the mullets are so quick and nimble that a number of
them whip over, get away, and escape the nets. But the dolphins are
ready to receive them; who, contenting themselves for the present to
kill only, make foul work and havoc among them, and put off the time
of preying and feeding upon, until they have ended the battle and
achieved the victory. And now the skirmish is hot, for the dolphins,
perceiving also the men at work, are the more eager and courageous in
fight, taking pleasure to be enclosed within the nets, and so most
valiantly charging upon the mullets; but for fear lest the same should
give an occasion unto the enemies and provoke them to retire and fly
back between the boats, the nets, and the men there swimming, they
glide by so gently and easily that it cannot be seen where they get
out. And albeit they take great delight in leaping, and have the cast
of it, yet none essayeth to get forth but where the nets lie under
them, but no sooner are they out, but presently a man shall see brave
pastime between them as they scuffle and skirmish as it were under the
ramparts. And so the conflict being ended and all the fishing sport
done, the dolphins fall to spoil and eat those which they killed in
the first shock and encounter. But after this service performed, the
dolphins retire not presently into the deep again, from whence they
were called, but stay until to-morrow, as if they knew very well they
had so carried themselves as that they deserved a better reward than
one day's refection and victuals; and therefore contented they are not
and satisfied unless to their fish they have some sops and crumbs of
bread given them soaked in wine, and had their bellies full.'
_MONKEY STORIES_
Before telling you more stories about monkeys, we must tell you some
dry facts about them, in order that you may understand the stories.
There are three different kinds of monkeys--apes, baboons, and monkeys
proper. The difference is principally in their tails, so that when you
see them at the Zoo (for there are none wild in Europe, except at
Gibraltar), you will know them by the apes having no tails and walking
upright; baboons have short tails and go on all fours; and monkeys
have tails sometimes longer than their whole bodies, by which they can
swing themselves from tree to tree. Apes and monkeys are so ready to
imitate everything which men do, that the negroes believe that they
are a lazy race of men, who will not be at the trouble to work.
Baboons, on the contrary, can be taught almost nothing.
There are two kinds of apes, called oran otans and chimpanzees. They
are both very wild and fierce, and difficult to catch, but, when
caught, become not only tame, but very affectionate, and can be taught
anything. Nearly two hundred years ago, in 1698, one was brought to
London that had been caught in Angola. On board ship he became very
fond of the people who took care of him, and was very gentle and
affectionate, but would have nothing to do with some monkeys who were
on the same ship. He had had a suit of clothes made for him, probably
to keep him warm. As the ship got into colder regions he took great
pleasure in dressing himself in them, and anything he could not put on
for himself he used to bring in his paw to one of the sailors, and
seem to ask him to dress him. He had a bed to sleep in, and at night
used to put his head on the pillow and tuck himself in like a human
being. His story is unfortunately a short one, for he died soon after
coming to London. He could not long survive the change from his native
forests to the cage of a menagerie.
[Illustration: TWO ORAN OTANS]
Another, a female, was brought to Holland nearly a hundred years
later, in 1776, but she, too, pined and died after seven months'
captivity. She was very gentle and affectionate, and became so fond of
her keeper that when they left her alone, she used to throw herself on
the ground screaming, and tearing in pieces anything in her reach,
just like a naughty child. She could behave as well as any lady in
the land when she liked. When asked out to tea, she used to bring a
cup and saucer, put sugar in the cup, pour out the tea, and leave it
to cool; and at dinner her manners were just as good. She used her
knife and fork, table napkin, and even toothpick, as if she had been
accustomed to them all her life, which, of course, in her native
forest was far from being the case. She learnt all her nice habits
either from watching people at table, or from her keeper's orders. She
was fond of strawberries, which she ate very daintily, on a fork,
holding the plate in the other hand. She was particularly fond of
wine, and drank it like a human being, holding the glass in her hand.
She was better behaved than two other oran otans, who, though they
could behave as well at table as any lady, and could use their knives
and forks and glasses, and could make the cabin boy (for it was on
board ship) understand what they wanted, yet, if he did not attend to
them at once, they used to throw him down, seize him by the arm, and
bite him.
A French priest had an oran otan that he had brought up from a baby,
and who was so fond of his master that he used to follow him about
like a dog. When the priest went to church he used to lock the oran
otan up in a room; but one day he got out, and, as sometimes happens
with dogs, who cannot get reconciled to Sunday, he followed his master
to church. He managed, without the priest's seeing him, to climb on
the sounding board above the pulpit, where he lay quite still till the
sermon began. He then crept forward till he could see his master in
the pulpit below, and imitated every one of his movements, till the
congregation could not keep from laughing. The priest thought they
were making fun of him, and was naturally very angry. The more angry
he became the more gestures he used, every one of which the ape
overhead repeated. At last a friend of the priest stood up in the
congregation, and pointed out the real culprit. When the priest looked
up and saw the imitation of himself, he could not keep from laughing
either, and the service could not go on till the disturber had been
taken down and locked up again at home.
Another kind is called the Barbary ape, because they are found in such
numbers in Barbary that the trees in places seem nearly covered with
them, though there are quantities as well in India and Arabia. They
are very mischievous and great fighters. In India the natives
sometimes amuse themselves by getting up a fight among them. They put
down at a little distance from each other baskets of rice, with stout
sticks by each basket, and then they go off and hide themselves among
the trees to watch the fun. The apes come down from the trees in great
numbers, and make as though they were going to attack the baskets, but
lose courage and draw back grinning at each other. The females are
generally the boldest, and the first to seize on the food; but as soon
as they put their heads down to eat, some of the males set-to to drive
them off. Others attack them in their turn. They all seize on the
sticks, and soon a free fight begins, which ends in the weakest being
driven off into the woods, and the conquerors enjoying the spoil. They
are not only fierce but revengeful, and will punish severely any
person who kills one of them. Some English people who were driving
through a country full of these apes in the East Indies, wished, out
of sheer wantonness, to have one shot. The native servants, knowing
what the consequences would be, were afraid; but, as their masters
insisted, they had to obey, and shot a female whose little ones were
clinging to her neck. She fell dead from the branches, and the little
ones, falling with her, were killed too. Immediately all the other
apes, to the number of about sixty, came down and attacked the
carriage. They would certainly have killed the travellers if the
servants, of whom there was fortunately a number, had not driven the
apes off; and though the carriage set off as fast as the horses could
lay legs to the ground, the apes followed for three miles.
[Illustration: THE BABOONS WHO STOLE THE POOR MAN'S DINNER]
_Baboons_ are as ugly, revolting creatures as you could wish to see,
and very fierce, so they can seldom be tamed nor even caught. There
are, of course, few stories about them. When people try to catch
them, they let their pursuers come so near that they think they have
them, and then they bound away ten paces at once, and look down
defiantly from the tree-top as much as to say, 'Don't you wish you may
get me?' One baboon had so wearied his pursuers by his antics that
they pointed a gun at him, though with no intention of firing. He had
evidently seen a gun before, and knew its consequences, and was so
frightened at the bare idea, that he fell down senseless and was
easily captured. When he came to himself again he struggled so
fiercely that they had to tie his paws together, and then he bit so
that they had to tie his jaws up.
Baboons are great thieves, and come down from the mountains in great
bodies to plunder gardens. They cram as much fruit as they possibly
can into their cheek pouches to take away and eat afterwards at their
leisure. They always set a sentinel to give the alarm. When he sees
anyone coming, he gives a yell that lasts a minute, and then the whole
troop sets off helter-skelter.
They will rob anyone they come upon alone in the most impudent way.
They come softly up behind, snatch away anything they can lay their
hands on, and then run off a little way and sit down. Very often it is
the poor man's dinner that they devour before his eyes. Sometimes they
will hold it out in their hands and pretend they are going to give it
back, in such a comic way that I would defy you not to laugh, though
it were your own dinner that had been snatched away and then offered
to you.
_Monkeys_ live in the tree-tops of the forests of India and South
Africa, where they keep up a constant chattering and gambolling, all
night as well as all day, playing games and swinging by their tails
from tree to tree. One kind, the four-fingered monkey, can pass from
one high tree-top to another, too far even for a monkey to jump, by
making themselves into a chain, joined to each other by their tails.
They can even cross rivers in this way. There are any number of
different kinds of monkeys, as you can see any day in the monkey house
at the Zoo. One kind is well named the howling monkey, because they
howl in chorus every morning two hours before daylight, and again at
nightfall. The noise they make is so fearful that, if you did not
know, you would think it was a forest full of ferocious beasts quite
near, thirsting for their prey, instead of harmless monkeys a mile or
two away. There is always a leader of the chorus, who sits on a high
branch above the others. He first howls a solo, and then gives a
signal for the others to join in; then they all howl together, till he
gives another signal to stop.
The egret monkeys are great thieves. When they set to work to rob a
field of millet, they put as many stalks as they can carry in their
mouths, in each paw, and under each arm, and then go off home on their
hind legs. If pursued, and obliged for greater speed to go on all
their four legs, they drop what they carry in their paws, but never
let go what they have in their mouths. The Chinese monkey is also a
great thief, and even cleverer about carrying away his booty. They
always set a sentinel on a high tree; when he sees anyone coming, he
screams 'Houp, houp, houp!' The others then seize as much as they can
carry in their right arm, and set off on three legs. They are called
Chinese, not because they come from China, but because the way the
hair grows on their heads is like a Chinese cap. It is long and parts
in the middle, spreading out all round.
In many parts of India monkeys are worshipped by the natives, and
temples are erected for them. But monkeys of one tribe are never
allowed to come into any of these sanctuaries when another tribe is
already in possession. A large strong monkey was once seen by some
travellers to steal into one of these temples; as soon as the
inhabitants saw that he did not belong to their tribe, they set on him
to drive him out. As he was only one against many, though bigger and
stronger than the others, he saw that he had no chance, and bounded up
to the top, eleven stories high. As the temple ended in a little round
dome just big enough for himself, he was master of the situation, and
every monkey that ventured to climb up he flung down to the bottom.
When this had happened three or four times, his enemies thought it
best to let him alone, and he stayed there in peace till it was dark
and he could slip away unseen.
_ECCENTRIC BIRD BUILDERS_
From Jones' _Glimpses of Animal Life_.
Everybody knows how fond birds are of building their nests in church,
and if we come to think of it, it is a very reasonable and sensible
proceeding. Churches are so quiet, and have so many dark
out-of-the-way corners, where no one would dream of poking, certainly
not the woman whose business it is to keep the church clean. So the
birds have the satisfaction of feeling that their young are kept safe
and warm while they are collecting food for them, and there is always
some open door or window to enable the parents to fly in or out.
But all birds have not the wisdom of the robins, and swallows, and
sparrows that have selected the church for a home, and some of them
have chosen very odd places indeed wherein to build their nests and
lay their eggs. Hinges of doors, turning lathes, even the body of a
dead owl hung to a ring, have all been used as nurseries; but perhaps
the oddest spot of all to fix upon for a nest is the outside of a
railway carriage, especially when we remember how often railway
stations are the abode of cats, who move safely about the big wheels,
and even travel by train when they think it necessary.
Yet, in spite of all the drawbacks, railway carriages remain a
favourite place for nesting birds, and there is a curious story of a
pair of water-wagtails which built a snug home underneath a
third-class carriage attached to a train which ran four times daily
between Cosham and Havant. The father does not seem to have cared
about railway travelling, which, to be sure, must appear a wretched
way of getting about to anything that has wings; for he never went
with the family himself, but spent the time of their absence
fluttering restlessly about the platform to which the train would
return. He was so plainly anxious and unhappy about them, that one
would have expected that he would have insisted on some quieter and
safer place the following year when nesting time came round again; but
the mother apparently felt that the situation had some very distinct
advantages, for she deliberately passed over every other spot that her
mate pointed out, and went back to her third-class carriage.
Yet a railway carriage seems safety itself in comparison with a London
street lamp, where a fly-catcher's nest was found a few years ago.
Composed as it was of moss, hair, and dried grass, it is astonishing
that it never caught fire, but no doubt the great heat of the gas was
an immense help in hatching the five eggs which the birds had laid.
Those fly-catchers had built in a hollow iron ornament on the top of
the lamp, but some tomtits are actually known to have chosen such a
dangerous place as the spot close to the burner of a paraffin street
lamp. And even when the paraffin was exchanged for gas, the birds did
not seem to mind, and would sit quite calmly on the nest, while the
lamplighter thrust his long stick past them to put out the light.
Birds reason in a different way from human beings, for a letter-box
would not commend itself to us as being a very good place to bring up
a family, with letters and packages tumbling on to their heads every
instant. A pair of Scotch tomtits, however, thought otherwise, and
they made a comfortable little nest at the back of a private
letter-box, nailed on to the trunk of a tree in Dumfriesshire. The
postman soon found out what was going on, but he took great pains not
to disturb them, for he was fond of birds, and was very curious to see
what the tomtits would do. What the tomtits did was to go peacefully
on with their nest, minding their own business, and by-and-bye eight
little eggs lay in the nest. By this time the mother had got so used
to the postman, that she never even moved when he unlocked the door,
only giving his hand a friendly peck when he put it in to take out the
letters, and occasionally accepting some crumbs which he held out to
it. But no sooner did the little birds break through their shells than
the parents became more difficult to deal with. They did not mind
knocks from letters for themselves, but they grew furiously angry if
the young ones ever were touched by so much as a corner, and one day,
when a letter happened to fall plump on top of the nest, they tore it
right to pieces. In fact, it was in such a condition, that when the
postman came as usual to make his collection, he was obliged to take
the letter back to the people who had written it, for no Post Office
would have sent it off in such a state.
_THE SHIP OF THE DESERT_
From Burckhardt's _Travels in Nubia_.
Of all animals under the sun, perhaps the very ugliest is the camel;
but life in the deserts of Africa and Arabia could not go on at all
without the constant presence of this clumsy-looking creature. Some
African tribes keep camels entirely for the use of their milk and
flesh; and it is noticeable that these animals are much shyer and more
timid than their brothers in Syria and Arabia, who will instantly come
trotting up to any fresh camel that appears on the scene, or obey the
call of any Bedouin, even if he is a stranger.
In general, the camel is merely employed as a beast of burden, and
from this he gets his name of the 'ship of the desert.' Like other
ships, he sways from side to side, and his awkward motion is apt to
make his rider feel very sick, till he gets accustomed to this way of
travelling. Camels are wonderfully strong and enduring animals, and
can stow up water within them for several days, besides having an
extraordinary power of smelling any water or spring that is far beyond
the reach of man's eyes. These qualities are naturally very valuable
in the burning deserts which stretch unbroken for hundreds of miles,
where everything looks alike, and the sun as he passes across the
heavens is the traveller's only guide.
Partly from fear of warlike tribes, which wander through the deserts
of Arabia and Nubia, and partly from the help and protection which a
large body can give, the one to the other, it is the custom for
merchants and travellers to band together and travel in great
caravans of men and camels. They try, if possible, to find some well
by which they can encamp, and every man fills his own skins with water
before starting afresh on his journey. More quarrels arise about water
than people who live in countries with plenty of streams and rivers
can have any idea of. One man will sell his skinful to another at a
very high price, while if a traveller thinks he will be very prudent
and lay in a large store, the rest are certain to take it from him
directly their own supply runs short. Foods they can do without on
those burning plains, but not water.
Some of these misfortunes befel a traveller of the name of Burckhardt,
who left Switzerland in the opening years of this century, to pass
several years in Africa and the East. After going through Syria, he
began to make his way up the Nile, and even penetrated as far as
Nubia, joining for that purpose a caravan of traders under the
leadership of a Ababde--an Arab race who from the earliest days have
been acknowledged to be the best guides across the desert.
Owing to the intense heat which prevails in those countries, the
marches always take place in the small hours of the morning, and
midnight seems to have been the usual hour for the start. Very
commonly the march would continue for eleven hours, during which time
the men were only allowed to drink twice, while the asses, who with
the camels formed part of the caravan, were put on half their
allowance. Sometimes a detachment was sent on to wells that were known
to lie along the route, to get everything ready for the rest when they
came up; but it often happened that the springs were so choked up by
drifting sand that no amount of digging would free them. Then there
was nothing for it but to go on again.