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MONKEYS
Of this numerous and frolicsome family, there is a great variety in the hot regions of both continents. In some portions of South America, they enliven the landscape by their gambols, and make the forests resound with their cries. They are the smallest and most lively of the four-handed family, and in all caravans, they are the favorites of young observers.
The Fair Monkey.– This is one of the most beautiful of the tribe. Its head is small and round: its face and hands are of scarlet, so defined and vivid that it has more the appearance of art than nature. Its body and limbs are covered with long hairs of the purest white, and of a shining and silvery brightness: the tail is of a deep chestnut color, very glistening, and considerably longer than the body. This animal is somewhat larger than the striated monkey. It is an inhabitant of South America, and is frequently to be met with on the banks of the Amazon.
The following circumstance, exhibiting the fickleness of the fair monkey, was communicated to Mr. Bewick by Sir John Trevelyan. "Pug was a gentleman of excellent humor, and adored by the crew; and, to make him perfectly happy, as they imagined, they procured him a wife. For some weeks he was a devoted husband, and showed her every attention and respect. He then grew cool, and became jealous of any kind of civility shown her by the master of the vessel, and began to use her with much cruelty. His treatment made her wretched and dull; though she bore the spleen of her husband with that fortitude which is characteristic of the female sex of the human species. Pug, however, like the lords of creation, was up to deceit, and practised pretended kindness to his spouse, to effect a diabolical scheme, which he seemed to premeditate. One morning, when the sea ran very high, he seduced her aloft, and drew her observation to an object at some distance from the yard-arm; her attention being fixed, he all of a sudden applied his paw to her rear, and canted her into the sea, where she fell a victim to his cruelty. This seemed to afford him high gratification, for he descended in great spirits."
A Trick.– In 1818, a vessel that sailed between Whitehaven, in England, and Jamaica, embarked on her homeward voyage, and, among other passengers, carried Mrs. B., and an infant five weeks old. One beautiful afternoon, the captain perceived a distant sail; and, after he had gratified his curiosity, he politely offered the glass to the lady, that she might obtain a clear view of the object. She had the baby in her arms, but now she wrapped her shawl about it, and placed it on a sofa, upon which she had been sitting.
Scarcely had she applied her eye to the glass, when the helmsman exclaimed, "See what the mischievous monkey has done!" The reader may judge of the mother's feelings, when, on turning round, she beheld the animal in the act of transporting her child apparently up to the top of the mast. The monkey was a very large one, and so strong and active, that, while it grasped the infant firmly with one arm, it climbed the shrouds nimbly by the other, totally unembarrassed by the weight of its burden.
One look was enough for the terrified mother; and had it not been for the assistance of those around her, she would have fallen prostrate on the deck, where she was soon afterwards stretched, apparently a lifeless corpse. The sailors could climb as well as the monkey, but the latter watched their motions narrowly; and, as it ascended higher up the mast the moment they attempted to put a foot on the shroud, the captain became afraid that it would drop the child, and endeavor to escape by leaping from one mast to another.
In the mean time, the little innocent was heard to cry; and though many thought it was suffering pain, their fears on this point were speedily dissipated, when they observed the monkey imitating exactly the motions of a nurse, by dandling, soothing, and caressing, its charge, and even endeavoring to hush it to sleep.
From the deck, the lady was conveyed to the cabin, and gradually restored to her senses. In the mean time, the captain ordered the men to conceal themselves carefully below, and quietly took his own station on the cabin stairs, where he could see all that passed, without being seen. The plan happily succeeded. The monkey, on perceiving that the coast was clear, cautiously descended from his lofty perch, and replaced the infant on the sofa, cold, fretful, and perhaps frightened, but, in every other respect, as free from harm as when he took it up. The captain had now a most grateful office to perform; the babe was restored to its mother's arms, amidst tears, and thanks, and blessings.
A Tragedy in the Woods.– An Englishman travelling in India tells the following interesting, though painful, story: —
"I was strolling through a wood, with my gun on my shoulders, my thoughts all centred in Europe, when I heard a curious noise in a tree above me. I looked up, and found that the sounds proceeded from a white monkey, who skipped from branch to branch, chattering with delight at beholding a 'fellow-creature,' for so he decidedly seemed to consider me. For a few moments I took no notice of his antics, and walked quietly along, till suddenly a large branch fell at my feet, narrowly escaping my head. I again paused, and found that the missile had been dropped by my talkative friend. Without consideration, I instantly turned round and fired at him.
"The report had scarcely sounded, when I heard the most piercing, the most distressing cry, that ever reached my ears. An agonized shriek, like that of a young infant, burst from the little creature that I had wounded. It was within thirty paces of me. I could see the wretched animal, already stained with blood, point to its wound, and again hear its dreadful moan.
"The agony of a hare is harrowing, and I have seen a young sportsman turn pale on hearing it. The present cry was, however, more distressing. I turned round, and endeavored to hurry away. This, however, I found no easy task; for, as I moved forward, the unhappy creature followed me, springing as well as he could from bough to bough, uttering a low, wailing moan, and pointing at the same time to the spot whence the blood trickled. Then, regarding me steadily and mournfully in the face, it seemed to reproach me with my wanton cruelty. Again I hastened on, but still it pursued me. Never, in my life, did I feel so much for a dumb animal: never did I so keenly repent an act of uncalled-for barbarity.
"Determined not to allow the poor monkey thus to linger in torture, and at once to end the annoying scene, I suddenly came to a halt; and, lowering my gun, which was only single-barrelled, I was about to reload it for the purpose of despatching the maimed creature, when, springing from a tree, it ran up to within a dozen paces of me, and began to cry so piteously, and roll itself in agony, occasionally picking up earth, with which it attempted to stanch the blood by stuffing it into the wound, that, in spite of my resolution, when I fired, I was so nervous, I almost missed my aim, inflicting another wound, which broke the animal's leg, but nothing more. Again, its piercing shriek rang in my ears. Horrified beyond endurance, I threw down my gun, and actually fled.
"In about half an hour, I returned, for the purpose of getting my gun, fully expecting that the poor animal had left the spot. What, then, was my surprise, to find a crowd of monkeys surrounding the wretched sufferer, and busily employed in tearing open its wounds! A shout drove them all away, except the dying animal. I advanced. The little creature was rolling in agony. I took up my gun, which lay beside him, and fancied he cast one look of supplication on me – one prayer to be relieved from his misery. I did not hesitate; with one blow of the butt-end, I dashed out his brains. Then turning round, I slowly returned to my quarters, more profoundly dispirited than I had felt for many months. – Take my advice, reader; if you must live in India, never shoot a monkey."
Miscellaneous Anecdotes.– We are told of a king of Egypt who was so successful in training monkeys to the art of dancing, that they were long admired for the dexterity and gracefulness of their movements. On one occasion, his majesty had a ball, at which a vast number of these animals "tripped it on the light, fantastic toe." A citizen, who enjoyed fun, threw a few handfuls of walnuts into the ball-room, while these picturesque animals were engaged in a high dance, upon which they forgot all decorum, and sprang to the booty.
A monkey, which was kept on board a British frigate, was the favorite of all on board but the midshipmen. This animal knew well of a large store of apples being in a locker in the wardroom, which was kept constantly secure, in consequence of his propensity for plundering it. He, however, fell upon ways and means to secure his booty. He procured a piece of wadding, swung himself from the stern gallery by one hand, and, with this in the other, broke a pane of glass in the wardroom window; and, after carefully picking out all the broken pieces of glass, made his entrance, where he gorged himself so fully, that he was unable to effect his retreat by the place where he entered. He was caught in the fact, and soundly flogged.
A singular piece of ingenuity was once practised by a monkey, in defending himself against fire-arms. This animal belonged to Captain M – , of the navy, who had also another small monkey, of which he was very fond, from its lively playfulness. The larger animal was often exceedingly troublesome, and could not be driven from his cabin, without blazing at him with a pistol loaded with powder and currant jelly, – a discharge which produced a painful and alarming effect. The old monkey was at first astounded at the sight of the weapon, which stung him so sore, that he at last learned a mode of defence; for, snatching up the little favorite, he used to interpose him as a shield between the pistol and his body.
In one of his excursions, Le Vaillant killed a female monkey, which carried a young one on her back. The latter continued to cling to her dead parent till they reached their evening quarters; and the assistance of a negro was even then required to disengage it. No sooner, however, did it feel itself alone, than it darted towards a wooden block, on which was placed the wig of Le Vaillant's father. To this it clung most pertinaciously by its fore paws; and such was the force of this deceptive instinct, that it remained in the same position for about three weeks, all this time evidently mistaking the wig for its mother. It was fed, from time to time, with goat's milk; and, at length, emancipated itself voluntarily, by quitting the fostering care of the peruke. The confidence which it ere long assumed, and the amusing familiarity of its manners, soon rendered it a favorite with the family. The unsuspecting naturalist had, however, introduced a wolf in sheep's clothing into his dwelling; for, one morning, on entering his chamber, the door of which had been imprudently left open, he beheld his young favorite making a hearty breakfast on a collection of insects which he had made. In the first transports of his anger, he resolved to strangle the monkey in his arms; but his rage immediately gave way to pity, when he perceived that the crime of its voracity had carried the punishment along with it. In eating the beetles, it had swallowed several of the pins on which they were transfixed. Its agony, consequently, became great, and all his efforts were unable to preserve its life.
ORDER III.
CARNARIA,
BUTCHERING ANIMALS
This order includes bats, hedgehogs, bears, dogs, wolves, foxes, lions, weasels, &c.
BATS
These creatures, partaking both of the nature of quadrupeds and birds, have excited the wonder of mankind in all ages. There is a great variety of species, from the common bat of our climate to the vampyre of South America, whose wings stretch to the extent of two feet. These animals live in caves and crevices during the day, and sally forth at evening to catch their prey. For this reason, there is a popular disgust of the whole tribe; yet the species in our climate are a harmless race. We cannot say as much of the larger kinds, which sometimes darken the air, by their abundance, in hot climates. One species, already mentioned, is a formidable animal.
Captain Stedman, in his "Narrative of a Five Years' Expedition against the revolted Negroes of Surinam," relates that, on awaking about four o'clock one morning in his hammock, he was extremely alarmed at finding himself weltering in congealed blood, and without feeling any pain whatever. "The mystery was," says Captain Stedman, "that I had been bitten by the vampyre, or spectre of Guiana, which is also called the flying dog of New Spain; and by the Spaniards, perrovolador. This is no other than a bat of monstrous size, that sucks the blood from men and cattle, while they are fast asleep, even, sometimes, till they die; and, as the manner in which they proceed is truly wonderful, I shall endeavor to give a distinct account of it.
"Knowing, by instinct, that the person they intend to attack is in a sound slumber, they generally alight near the feet, where, while the creature continues fanning with his enormous wings, which keeps one cool, he bites a piece out of the tip of the great toe, so very small, indeed, that the head of a pin could scarcely be received into the wound, which is, consequently, not painful; yet, through this orifice, he continues to suck the blood, until he is obliged to disgorge. He then begins again, and thus continues sucking and disgorging until he is scarcely able to fly, and the sufferer has often been known to pass from time to eternity. Cattle they generally bite in the ear, but always in places where the blood flows spontaneously. Having applied tobacco ashes as the best remedy, and washed the gore from myself and hammock, I observed several small heaps of congealed blood, all round the place where I had lain, upon the ground; on examining which, the surgeon judged that I had lost at least twelve or fourteen ounces of blood."
"Some years ago," says Mr. Waterton, in his "Wanderings in South America," "I went to the River Paumaron, with a Scotch gentleman, by name Tarbet. We hung our hammocks in the thatched loft of a planter's house. Next morning, I heard this gentleman muttering in his hammock, and now and then letting fall an imprecation or two, just about the time he ought to have been saying his morning prayers. 'What is the matter, sir?' said I, softly; 'is any thing amiss?' 'What's the matter?' answered he, surlily; 'why, the vampyres have been sucking me to death.' As soon as there was light enough, I went to his hammock, and saw it much stained with blood. 'There,' said he, thrusting his foot out of the hammock, 'see how these infernal imps have been drawing my life's blood.' On examining his foot, I found the vampyre had tapped his great toe. There was a wound somewhat less than that made by a leech. The blood was still oozing from it. I conjectured he might have lost from ten to twelve ounces of blood. Whilst examining it, I think I put him into a worse humor, by remarking that a European surgeon would not have been so generous as to have blooded him without making a charge. He looked up in my face, but did not say a word. I saw he was of opinion that I had better have spared this piece of ill-timed levity."
HEDGEHOG
This animal belongs exclusively to the eastern continent, and is well known from the thick and sharp prickles with which its back and sides are covered, and the contractile power by which it can draw its head and belly within the prickly covering of its back, so as to give it the appearance of a ball. It is found near hedges and thickets, from the fruits and herbage of which it obtains its food. It also feeds upon small animals, such as snails and beetles.
The sagacity of the hedgehog is celebrated in antiquity. We are informed by Plutarch, that a citizen of Cyzicus thus acquired the reputation of a good meteorologist: A hedgehog generally has its burrow open in various points; and, when its instinct warns it of an approaching change of the wind, it stops up the aperture towards that quarter. The citizen alluded to, becoming aware of this practice, was able to predict to what point the wind would next shift.
Though of a very timid disposition, the hedgehog has been sometimes tamed. In the year 1790, there was one in the possession of a Mr. Sample, in Northumberland, which performed the duty of a turnspit as well, in all respects, as the dog of that denomination. It ran about the house with the same familiarity as any other domestic animal.
In the London Sporting Magazine for 1821, there is an account of one, which, after having been tamed in a garden, found its way to the scullery, and there made regular search for the relics of the dinner plates; having its retreat in the adjoining cellar. It was fed after the manner itself had selected. Milk was given in addition to the meat; but it lost its relish for vegetables, and constantly rejected them. It soon became as well domesticated as the cat, and lived on a footing of intimacy with it.
THE MOLE
Of this animal there are several species; they burrow in the earth, and form avenues from one nest to another, like the crossing streets of a city. Their eyes are small, and so buried in fur as to be invisible, except on close inspection.
Mole-Catching.– It has been a common opinion that moles were destructive to the crops; and in Europe, much pains have been taken to destroy them. The mole-catcher – in general a quiet old man, who passes his winter in making his traps, in the chimney-corner – comes forth, in the spring, with his implements of destruction. His practised eye soon discovers the tracks of the mole, from the mound which he throws up to some neighboring bank, or from one mound to another. It is in this track, or run, that he sets his trap, a few inches below the surface of the ground. As the mole passes through this little engine of his ruin, he disturbs a peg which holds down a strong hazel rod in a bent position. The moment the peg is moved, the end of the rod which is held down flies up, and with it comes up the poor mole, dragged out of the earth which he has so ingeniously excavated, to be gibbeted, without a chance of escape.
There was a Frenchman, of the name of Le Court, who died a few years since, – a man of great knowledge and perseverance, and who did not think it beneath him to devote his whole attention to the observation of the mole. He established a school for mole-catching; and taught many what he had acquired by incessant perseverance – the art of tracing the mole to his hiding-place in the ground, and cutting off his retreat. The skill of this man once saved, as was supposed, a large and fertile district of France from inundation by a canal, whose banks the moles had undermined in every direction.
More recently, it has been doubted whether moles are really so mischievous to the farmer as has been supposed. It is said that they assist in draining the land, and thus prevent the foot-rot in sheep. Mr. Hogg, the Ettrick shepherd, says, "If a hundred men and horses were employed on a common-sized pasture-farm – say from 1500 to 2000 acres – in raising and draining manure for a top-dressing to the land, they would not do it so effectually, so equally, and so neatly, as the natural number of moles on the farm would do for themselves."
Moles are said to be very ferocious animals; and, as an evidence of this, we are told that a mole, a toad, and a viper, were enclosed in a glass case; the mole despatched the other two, and devoured a great part of both of them.
THE BEAR
Of this animal there are many species; among which, the white bear of the polar regions, and the grisly bear of the eastern slope of the Rocky Mountains, are the largest and most formidable. The brown bear is common to both continents. The most remarkable of the other species are the Bornean, spectacled, large-lipped, Thibetian, and Malayan.
The Brown or Black Bear. —Miscellaneous Anecdotes.– This species, like the rest of the family, is a solitary animal; for he only remains associated with his mate for a short period, and then retires to his winter retreat, which is usually in the hole of a rock, the cavity of a tree, or a pit in the earth, which the animal frequently digs for himself. He sometimes constructs a kind of hut, composed of the branches of trees, which he lines with moss. In these situations he continues, for the most part, in a lethargic state, taking no food, but subsisting entirely on the absorption of the fat which he has accumulated in the course of the summer.
The modes that are adopted, by the inhabitants of different countries, for taking or destroying bears, are various. Of these, the following appear to be the most remarkable: In consequence of the well-known partiality of these animals for honey, the Russians sometimes fix to those trees where bees are hived a heavy log of wood, at the end of a long string. When the unwieldy creature climbs up, to get at the hive, he finds himself interrupted by the log; he pushes it aside, and attempts to pass it; but, in returning, it hits him such a blow, that, in a rage, he flings it from him with greater force, which makes it return with increased violence; and he sometimes continues this, till he is either killed, or falls from the tree.
In Lapland, hunting the bear is often undertaken by a single man, who, having discovered the retreat of the animal, takes his dog along with him, and advances towards the spot. The jaws are tied round with a cord, to prevent his barking; and the man holds the other end of this cord in his hand. As soon as the dog smells the bear, he begins to show signs of uneasiness, and, by dragging at the cord, informs his master that the object of his pursuit is at no great distance.
When the Laplander, by this means, discovers on which side the bear is stationed, he advances in such a direction that the wind may blow from the bear to him, and not the contrary; for otherwise, the animal would, by his scent, be aware of his approach, though not able to see the enemy, being blinded by sunshine. The olfactory organs of the bear are exquisite. When the hunter has advanced to within gunshot of the bear, he fires upon him; and this is very easily accomplished in autumn, as he is then more fearless, and is constantly prowling about for berries of different kinds, on which he feeds at this season of the year. Should the man chance to miss his aim, the furious beast will directly turn upon him in a rage, and the little Laplander is obliged to take to his heels with all possible speed, leaving his knapsack behind him on the spot. The bear, coming up to this, seizes upon it, biting and tearing it into a thousand pieces. While he is thus venting his fury, the Laplander, who is generally a good marksman, reloads his gun, and usually destroys him at the second shot; if not, the bear in most cases runs away.
Bear-baiting was a favorite amusement of our English ancestors. Sir Thomas Pope entertained Queen Mary and the Princess Elizabeth, at Hatfield, with a grand exhibition of a "bear-baiting, with which their highnesses were right well content." Bear-baiting was part of the amusement of Elizabeth, among "the princely pleasures of Kenilworth Castle." Rowland White, speaking of the queen, then in her sixty-seventh year, says, – "Her majesty is very well. This day she appoints a Frenchman to do feats upon a rope, in the Conduit Court. To-morrow she has commanded the bears, the bull, and the ape, to be bayted, in the tilt-yard. Upon Wednesday, she will have solemn dauncing." The office of chief master of the bear was held under the crown, with a salary of 16d. per diem. Whenever the king chose to entertain himself or his visitors with this sport, it was the duty of the master to provide bears and dogs, and to superintend the baiting; and he was invested with unlimited authority to issue commissions, and to send his officers into every county in England, who were empowered to seize and take away any bears, bulls, or dogs, that they thought meet, for his majesty's service. The latest record, by which this diversion was publicly authorized, is a grant to Sir Saunders Duncombe, October 11, 1561, "for the sole practice and profit of the fighting and combating of wild and domestic beasts, within the realm of England, for the space of fourteen years." Occasional exhibitions of this kind were continued till about the middle of the eighteenth century.
We are told, in Johnston's Sketches of India, that "bears will often continue on the road, in front of a palanquin, for a mile or two, tumbling, and playing all sorts of antics, as if they were taught to do so. I believe it is their natural disposition; for they certainly are the most amusing creatures imaginable, in a wild state. It is no wonder they are led about with monkeys, to amuse mankind. It is astonishing, as well as ludicrous, to see them climb rocks, and tumble, or rather roll, down precipices. If they are attacked by a person on horseback, they stand erect on their hind legs, showing a fine set of white teeth, and make a crackling kind of noise. If the horse comes near them, they try to catch him by the legs; and, if they miss him, they tumble over and over several times. They are easily speared by a person mounted on horseback, that is bold enough to go near them."
Bears ascend trees with great facility. Of their fondness for climbing, we have the following curious instance: In the end of June, 1825, a tame bear took a notion of climbing up the scaffolding placed round a brick stalk, erecting by Mr. G. Johnstone, at St. Rollox. He began to ascend very steadily, cautiously examining, as he went along, the various joists, to see if they were secure. He at length, to the infinite amusement and astonishment of the workmen, reached the summit of the scaffolding, one hundred and twenty feet high. Bruin had no sooner attained the object of his wishes, than his physiognomy exhibited great self-gratulation; and he looked about him with much complacency, and inspected the building operations going on. The workmen were much amused with their novel visitor, and every mark of civility and attention was shown him; which he very condescendingly returned, by good-humoredly presenting them with a shake of his paw. A lime bucket was now hoisted, in order to lower him down; and the workmen, with all due courtesy, were going to assist him into it; but he declined their attentions, and preferred returning in the manner he had gone up. He afterwards repeated his adventurous visit.
"Bears," says Mr. Lloyd, "are not unfrequently domesticated in Wermeland. I heard of one that was so tame, that his master, a peasant, used occasionally to cause him to stand at the back of his sledge when on a journey; but the fellow kept so good a balance, that it was next to impossible to upset him. When the vehicle went on one side, bruin threw his weight the other way, and vice versa. One day, however, the peasant amused himself by driving over the very worst ground he could find, with the intention, if possible, of throwing the bear off his equilibrium, by which, at last, the animal got so irritated, that he fetched his master, who was in advance of him, a tremendous thwack on the shoulders with his paw. This frightened the man so much, that he caused the beast to be killed immediately."
Of the ferocity of the bear there are many instances on record. A brown bear, which was presented to his late majesty, George III., while Prince of Wales, was kept in the Tower. By the carelessness of the servant, the door of the den was left open; and the keeper's wife happening to go across the court at the same time, the animal flew out, seized the woman, threw her down, and fastened upon her neck, which he bit; and without offering any further violence, lay upon her, sucking the blood out of the wound. Resistance was in vain, as it only served to irritate the brute; and she must inevitably have perished, had not her husband luckily discovered her situation. By a sudden blow, he obliged the bear to quit his hold, and retire to his den, which he did with great reluctance, and not without making a second attempt to come at the woman, who was almost dead, through fear and loss of blood. It is somewhat remarkable, that, whenever he happened to see her afterwards, he growled, and made most violent struggles to get at her. The prince, upon hearing of the circumstance, ordered the bear to be killed.
But the bear is also capable of generous attachment. Leopold, Duke of Lorraine, had a bear called Marco, of the sagacity and sensibility of which we have the following remarkable instance: During the winter of 1709, a Savoyard boy, ready to perish with cold in a barn, in which he had been put by a good woman, with some more of his companions, thought proper to enter Marco's hut, without reflecting on the danger which he ran in exposing himself to the mercy of the animal which occupied it. Marco, however, instead of doing any injury to the child, took him between his paws, and warmed him by pressing him to his breast, until next morning, when he suffered him to depart, to ramble about the city. The young Savoyard returned in the evening to the hut, and was received with the same affection. For several days he had no other retreat; and it added not a little to his joy, to perceive that the bear regularly reserved part of his food for him. A number of days passed in this manner without the servants' knowing any thing of the circumstance. At length, when one of them came to bring the bear its supper, rather later than ordinary, he was astonished to see the animal roll his eyes in a furious manner, and seeming as if he wished him to make as little noise as possible, for fear of awaking the child, whom he clasped to his breast. The bear, though ravenous, did not appear the least moved with the food which was placed before him. The report of this extraordinary circumstance was soon spread at court, and reached the ears of Leopold, who, with part of his courtiers, was desirous of being satisfied of the truth of Marco's generosity. Several of them passed the night near his hut, and beheld, with astonishment, that the bear never stirred as long as his guest showed an inclination to sleep. At break of day, the child awoke, was very much ashamed to find himself discovered, and, fearing that he would be punished for his temerity, begged pardon. The bear, however, caressed him, and endeavored to prevail on him to eat what had been brought to him the evening before, which he did at the request of the spectators, who afterwards conducted him to the prince. Having learned the whole history of this singular alliance, and the time which it had continued, Leopold ordered care to be taken of the little Savoyard, who, doubtless, would have soon made his fortune, had he not died a short time after.
