Chapter 2

A contest of rather an unusual nature took place in the house of an innkeeper in Ireland. The parties engaged were a hen of the game species and a rat of middle size. The hen, in a walk round a spacious room, accompanied by an only chicken, the last one left of a large brood, was roused to madness by an attack made by a fierce rat on her helpless little one. The frightened cries of her beloved little chick, while it was being dragged away by the rat, awoke all the mother-love in the bosom of the hen. She flew at the corner whence he had taken her child, seized him by the neck, dragged him about the room, put out one of his eyes, and so tired him by repeated attacks of spur and bill, that in the space of twelve minutes, during which time the conflict lasted, she killed the rat, nimbly turned round in triumph to her frightened nestling, and lovingly sheltered it beneath her protecting wings.

XVI

THE SHEPHERD'S DOG

James Hogg, the shepherd poet, had a dog named Sirrah, who was for many years his sole companion. He was, the shepherd says, the best dog he ever saw, in spite of his surly manners and unattractive appearance. The first time he saw the dog, a drover was leading him by a rope, and, although hungry and lean, "I thought," Hogg tells us, "I saw a sort of sullen intelligence in his face, so I gave the drover a guinea for him. I believe there was never a guinea so well spent. He was scarcely a year old then, and knew nothing of herding; but as soon as he found out that it was his duty to do so, I can never forget with what eagerness he learned. He would try every way till he found out what I wanted him to do; and when once I made him understand a direction, he never forgot or mistook it again."

About seven hundred lambs, which were at once under Mr. Hogg's care, broke up at midnight, and scampered off in three divisions across the hills, in spite of all that the shepherd and an assistant lad could do to keep them together. "Sirrah," cried the shepherd, in great alarm, "my man, they're awa." The night was so dark that he did not see Sirrah, but the faithful dog had heard his master's words, and without more ado he set off in quest of the flock. The shepherd and his companion spent the whole of the night in scouring the hills, but of neither lambs nor Sirrah could they obtain the slightest trace. "We had nothing for it," says the shepherd, "but to return to our master and tell him that we had lost his whole flock of lambs. On our way home, however, we came suddenly upon a body of lambs at the bottom of a deep ravine, and in front of them was sitting Sirrah, who was looking around for help. We decided that here was at least one of the divisions which Sirrah had managed to collect; but what was our astonishment when we discovered that not one of the whole flock was missing. How he had got all the divisions together in the dark is beyond my comprehension. I never felt so grateful to any creature under the sun as I did to my honest Sirrah that morning."

XVII

TRAVELLERS

An innkeeper once sent, as a present to a friend, a dog and cat that had been companions for more than ten months. The carrier took them, tied up in a bag. A short time after the dog and cat set out together, and returned to their old home, a distance of thirteen miles. They jogged along the road side by side, and on one occasion the dog gallantly defended his fellow-traveller from the attack of another dog they met.

XVIII

FILIAL DUTY

A surgeon's mate on board a ship relates that while he was lying awake one evening, he saw a rat come into his berth, and after looking carefully about the place, go away with the greatest care and silence. Soon after it returned, leading by the ear another rat, which it left at a small distance from the hole by which they had entered. A third rat joined this kind conductor; they then foraged about, and picked up all the small scraps of biscuit; these they carried to the second rat, which seemed blind, and staid right on the spot where they had left it, nibbling such food as its faithful friends, whom the story-teller thinks were its children, brought to it from the more remote parts of the room.

XIX

A DOG SHEEP-STEALER

A shepherd, who was hung for sheep-stealing, used to commit the robberies by means of his dog. Whenever he wished to steal any sheep, he sent the dog to do the business. He would visit a flock of sheep, looking them over, as if he intended buying some. The dog was always by his side, and to him he gave a signal secretly, whenever he saw any particular sheep he wanted. Sometimes he would pick out ten or twelve from a flock of some hundreds. Dog and man then went away, and from a distance of several miles, the dog would be sent back by himself in the night time. The wise creature picked out the very sheep the man had selected, separated them from the rest of the flock, and drove them before him, often a distance of ten or twelve miles, till he came up with his master, to whom he delivered them up.

XX

A MOTHER'S AFFECTION

While a ship on a voyage of discovery to the North Pole was locked in the ice, one morning the man at the masthead reported that three bears were making their way toward the vessel. They had, no doubt, been attracted by the scent of some blubber of a sea-horse which the crew was burning on the ice at the time. They proved to be a mother bear and her two cubs; but the cubs were nearly as large as their mother. They ran eagerly to the fire, drew out the part of the flesh that remained unburned, and ate it greedily. The crew threw great lumps of the flesh upon the ice, and the old bear carried them away, one by one, laying a lump before each of her cubs, as she brought it, and thus dividing it, keeping only a small share for herself. As she was carrying off the last piece, the sailors shot both the cubs dead and wounded the mother, but not fatally. It would have touched the heart of all but the most unfeeling had they seen the affectionate concern of this poor animal in the dying moments of her young. Though terribly wounded herself, she crawled to the place where they lay, carrying a lump of flesh with her. She tore the lump in pieces, and laid it before them. When she saw that they refused to eat, she laid her paws first upon one, then upon the other, and tried to raise them up, moaning meanwhile most pitifully. Finding she could not stir them, she went off, and when she had gone some distance, looked back and moaned, and called them. As that did not seem to entice them away, she crawled back, and smelling round them, began to lick their wounds. She went off a second time a few paces, looked behind her again, and for some time stood moaning and calling. As the cubs did not rise to follow her, she returned once more, and with signs of inexpressible fondness went round them, caressing them with her paws. Finding at last that they were cold and lifeless, she raised her head toward the ship, and growled a curse upon their murderers, which they returned with a volley of musket balls. She fell between her cubs, and died licking their wounds.

XXI

A STRANGE MOUSER

A gentleman once owned a hen that was a fine mouser. She was seen constantly watching close to a corn rick, and the moment a mouse appeared, she seized it in her beak, and carried it to a meadow near by, where she would play with it like a young cat for some time, and then kill it. She has been known to catch four or five mice a day in this manner.

XXII

SABINUS AND HIS DOG

After the execution of Sabinus, the Roman general, who was put to death because of his attachment to the family of Germanicus, his body was left lying unburied upon the precipice of the Gemoniæ, as a warning to all who should dare to befriend the house of Germanicus. No friend had the courage to go near the body; one only remained true--his faithful dog. For three days the animal continued to watch the body, his mournful howling awakening the sympathy of every heart. Food was brought to him, and he was kindly coaxed to eat it; but on taking the bread, instead of eating it himself, he fondly laid it on his master's mouth and renewed his howling. Days thus passed, but not for a single moment did he leave the body.

The body was at length thrown into the Tiber, and the loving creature, still unwilling that it should perish, leaped into the water after it, and clasping the corpse between its paws, vainly tried to keep it from sinking.

XXIII

A JUST RETALIATION

A tame elephant kept by a merchant was allowed to go at large. The animal used to walk about the streets in as quiet and familiar a manner as any of the people, and took great pleasure in visiting the shops, especially those which sold herbs and fruit, where he was well received, except by a couple of brutal cobblers, who, without any cause, took offense at the generous creature, and once or twice tried to wound his trunk with their awls. The noble animal, who knew it was beneath him to crush them, did not hesitate to punish them by other means. He filled his large trunk with water, not of the cleanest quality, and advancing to them, as usual, covered them all at once with the very dirty flood. The fools were laughed at, and the punishment applauded.

XXIV

AN ODD FAMILY

A gentleman travelling through Mecklenburg relates the following curious incident which happened at an inn at which he was staying. After dinner, the landlord placed on the floor a large dish of soup, and then gave a loud whistle. At once there came into the room a mastiff, a fine Angora cat, an old raven, and a remarkably large rat, with a bell about its neck. These four animals went to the dish, and without disturbing one another, fed together. After they had eaten, the dog, cat, and rat lay before the fire, and the raven hopped about the room.

XXV

THE DOLPHIN

In the reign of Augustus Cæsar there was, in the Lucrine lake, a dolphin which formed a most romantic attachment to the son of a poor man. The boy had to go every day from Baiæ to Puteoli to school, and such were the friendly terms on which he had got with the dolphin, that he had only to wait by the banks of the lake and cry, "Simo, Simo"--the name he had given to the animal, when, lo! Simo came scudding to the shore, let fall the sharp prickles of his skin, and gently offered his back for the boy to mount upon. The boy, nothing afraid, used to mount at once, and the dolphin, without either rein or spur, would speed across the sea to Puteoli, and after landing the young scholar, wait about the shore till it was time for the boy to go home, when it would again perform the same sort of friendly service. The boy was not ungrateful for such great kindness, and used every day to bring a good store of food for Simo, which the animal would take from his hand in the most tame and kindly manner imaginable. For several years this friendly intercourse was kept up. It was, in fact, only ended by the death of the boy. As the story goes, the dolphin felt so badly when the lad failed to come as usual, that it threw itself on the shore, and died, as was thought, of very grief and sorrow at the loss of its friend.

XXVI

A GOOD FINDER

One day a tradesman, walking with a friend, offered to wager that if he were to hide a five-shilling piece in the dust, his dog would find it and bring it to him. The wager was accepted, and the piece of money marked and hidden. When the two had gone on some distance, the tradesman called to his dog that he had lost something, and told him to seek it. The dog turned back at once, and his master and his friend went on their way. Meanwhile a traveller, driving a small chaise, saw the piece of money which his horse had kicked from its hiding-place, alighted, took it up and drove to his inn. The dog had just reached the spot in search of the lost piece, when the stranger picked it up. He followed the chaise, went into the inn, and, having scented the coin in the pocket of the traveller, he kept leaping up at him. Supposing him to be some dog that had lost his master, the traveller took these actions as marks of affection, and as the animal was handsome, decided to keep him. He gave him a good supper, and on retiring, took him with him to his room. But no sooner had he pulled off his trousers than they were seized by the dog. The owner, thinking that the dog only wanted to play with them, took them away. The animal began to bark at the door, which the traveller opened, thinking the animal wanted to go out. The dog snatched up the trousers, and away he went, the traveller, with his nightcap on, posting after him. The dog ran full speed to his master's house, followed by the stranger, who accused the dog of robbing him. "Sir," said the master, "my dog is a very faithful creature; and if he ran away with your trousers, it is because you have in them money which does not belong to you." The traveller became still more angry. "Keep calm, sir," answered the other, smiling; "no doubt there is in your purse a five-shilling piece which you picked up in the road, and which I hid, knowing my dog would bring it back. This was the reason for the robbery which he committed upon you." The stranger said he had found such a coin, gave it up to the man, and went on his way. But the clever dog had thus proven himself to be a good finder.

XXVIII

REVENGE

A wild stork was brought by a farmer into his poultry yard, to be the companion of a tame one, which he had long kept there; but the tame stork, disliking a rival, fell upon the poor, wild stranger, and beat him so terribly that he took wing and flew off.

About four months afterwards, however, his injuries having all healed, he returned to the poultry yard, with three other storks, who no sooner alighted than they all together fell upon the tame stork, and killed it.

XXVIII

MICE AS SAILORS

Although there are few who would dispute the cleverness and sagacity of the larger animals, it is doubtful if there are many who credit the mouse with even average intelligence. The following instance may go far to raise our humble friend in the popular estimation; more especially as the story is told by one who really saw the whole performance. In a country where berries are scarce, these little animals were obliged to cross a river to make their forages. In returning with their booty to their homes, they had to recross the stream; in doing which they showed an ingenuity little short of marvelous. The party, which consisted of five, selected a water-lily leaf, on which they placed their berries in a heap in the middle; then, by their united force, they brought it to the water's edge, and after launching it, jumped on it, and placed themselves round the heap, with their heads joined over it, and their backs to the water. In this manner they drifted down the stream until they reached the opposite shore, when they unloaded their cargo, and stored it away for the coming rainy day.

XXIX

DRAWING WATER

Some years ago, a donkey was employed at Carisbrook Castle, in the Isle of Wight, in drawing water by means of a large wheel from a very deep well, thought to have been sunk by the Romans. When the keeper wanted water, he would say to the donkey, "Tom, my boy, I want water; get into the wheel, my lad." Thomas, thereupon, got in, with a speed and wisdom that would have done credit to a nobler animal. No doubt he knew the exact number of times the wheel had to turn upon its axis to bring up the bucket, because every time he brought it to the surface of the well, he stopped and turned round his honest head to note the moment when his master laid hold of the bucket to draw it toward him, because he had then a nice turn to make either to draw back, or to go ahead a little. It was pleasing to see with what steadiness and regularity the poor animal did his work.

XXX

THE BROKEN HEART

During the French Revolution M. des R----, an ancient magistrate and most estimable man, was condemned to die on the charge of conspiracy, and was thrown into prison. M. des R---- had a water spaniel, which had been brought up by him, and was always with him. Shut out of the prison, he returned to his master's house, and found it closed. He then took refuge with a neighbor. Every day at the same hour, the dog left the house, and went straight to the door of the prison, where he whined mournfully. He was refused admittance, but each day he spent an hour before the door, and then went away. His fidelity at last won over the porter, and one day he was allowed to enter. The dog saw his master and clung to him. The jailer could hardly drive him away. He came back the next morning, and every day; once each day he was admitted. He licked the hand of his friend, looked him in the face, again licked his hand, and went away of his own accord.

After the execution, at which the dog was present, he walked by the side of the corpse to its burial place, and after the ceremony laid himself upon the grave. There he passed the first night, the next day, and the next night. The neighbor, in the meantime, unhappy at not seeing him, went in search of his friend, and found him by his master's grave. He caressed him and made him eat a little food. He even coaxed the faithful creature away for a few moments, but he soon returned to his master's grave. Three months passed. The dog came each morning to get his food, and then returned to the grave. Each day he was more sad, more lean, more feeble. He was chained up, but broke his fetters; escaped; returned to the grave, and never left it more. It was in vain that they tried to get him back. They carried him food, but he ate no longer. For hours he was seen digging up with his weakened limbs the earth that separated him from his beloved master. Passion gave him strength, and at last he was near to the body. Then his faithful heart gave way, and he breathed out a last gasp, as if he knew he had found his master.

XXXI

REMORSE

An elephant, from some motive of revenge, killed his mahout, or driver. The man's wife, who beheld the dreadful scene, took her two children, and threw them at the feet of the angry animal, saying, "Since you have slain my husband, take my life also, and that of my children." The elephant instantly became calm looked at them a moment, and then, as if stung with remorse, took up the eldest boy with his trunk, placed him on his neck, adopted him for his driver, and would never afterwards allow any other person to mount him.

XXXII

A COMEDY OF ELEPHANTS

In a play exhibited at Rome, in the reign of Tiberius, there were twelve elephant performers, six male and six female, all fixed up in fancy costumes. After they had, at the command of their keeper, danced and performed a thousand curious antics, a most sumptuous feast was served up for their refreshment. The table was covered with all sorts of dainties and golden goblets filled with the most precious wines. Couches covered with purple carpets were placed around for the animals to lie upon, after the manner of the Romans when feasting, and on these couches the elephants laid themselves down. At a given signal they reached out their trunks to the table, and fell to eating and drinking with as much propriety as if they had been so many men and women.

XXXIII

CUNNING AS A FOX

An American gentleman was hunting foxes, accompanied by two bloodhounds. The dogs were soon in scent, and followed a fox nearly two hours, when suddenly they appeared at fault. The gentleman came up with them near a large log lying upon the ground, and was much surprised to find them taking a circuit of a few rods without an object, every trace of the game seeming to have been lost, while they still kept yelping. On looking round about himself, he saw sly Reynard stretched upon the log, as still as if he were dead. The master made several efforts to direct the attention of his dogs toward the fox, but failed. At last he went so near the artful creature that he could see it breathe. Even then no alarm was shown; and the gentleman, seizing a club, aimed a blow at him, which Reynard evaded by a leap from his strange hiding-place, having thus for a time effectually eluded his greedy pursuers.

XXXIV

FAITHFUL THOUGH UNLOVED

A gentleman once owned a mastiff which guarded the house and yard, but had never any particular attention from his master. One night, as his master was retiring to his room, attended by his valet, an Italian, the mastiff silently followed him upstairs, something which he had never been before known to do, and to his master's astonishment, came into his bedroom. He was at once turned out; but the poor animal began scratching violently at the door, and howled loudly for admission. The servant was sent to drive him away; but again he returned, and seemed more anxious than before to be let in. Getting tired of his barking, the gentleman bade the servant open the door, that they might see what it was the animal wanted to do. As soon as he was let in the dog walked to the bed, and crawling under it, laid himself down as if intending to spend the night there. To save farther trouble, this was allowed. About midnight the chamber door opened, and some one was heard stepping carefully across the floor. The gentleman started from his sleep; the dog sprang from his covert, and seizing the unwelcome intruder, fixed him to the spot. All was dark, and the gentleman rang his bell in great fear in order to procure a light. The person who was pinned to the floor by the courageous mastiff was roaring for assistance. It was found to be the valet, who little expected such a reception. He tried to apologize for his intrusion, and to make the reasons which led him to take this step appear plausible; but the importunity of the dog, the time, the place, the manner of the valet, all raised the suspicions of his master, and he determined to refer the investigation of the business to a magistrate. The Italian at length confessed that it was his intention to murder his master and then rob the house. This he would surely have done, had it not been for the great wisdom of the dog and his wonderful friendship for a master who had never treated him with the kindness that he should have done.

XXXV

A FAITHFUL COMPANION

A gardener, in removing some rubbish one day, found two ground toads of uncommon size, weighing no less than seven pounds. While he was watching them, he was surprised to see that one of them got upon the back of the other, and then both moved slowly over the ground toward a place of retreat. Upon further examination he found that the one on the back of the other had been badly wounded by a blow from his spade, and was thus unable to get back to its home without the help of its friend.

XXXVI

ELEPHANT ROPE DANCING