Chapter 7

FINDING RELATIONS.

"Well, this is at length such weather as a creature may live and breathe in! I've been half stifled all the autumn with the heat, but now the fresh keen air seems like a breeze from my own dear Lapland!"

"Lapland! oh! there is nothing like Lapland," said a very dolorous voice in reply. I lifted up my eyes to get a glimpse of the speaker.

Within the cage were two beautiful little Lemmings, (I learnt their name afterwards as well as those of other inhabitants of the place.) They were not much more than half my size, had pointed heads, very short tails, and whiskers uncommonly long. Their coats were black and tawny, but yellowish-white beneath. I heard subsequently that their race inhabit Siberia, Norway, and other cold climes, moving in large bodies like locusts, and like locusts eating up every thing green. But this pair, as was evident from their conversation, had been natives of a country called Lapland.

"Oh for a sight of the icy lakes, the snow-covered plains and the reindeer moving lightly over them; while the rosy Aurora Borealis throws its bright streamers across the sky!"

"And the strange little huts," rejoined the other, "made of briers, bark, felt, and reindeer skins, where, when we peeped under the curtains which made the door, we saw the tiny people, in their sheepskin doublets, sitting on their heels round the fire! I don't wonder that the Lapps love their land; I don't wonder that when long exiled from it, they die of intense longing to return. That will be my fate, oh! that will be mine!"

"Allow an English rat, gentle strangers," said I, "to offer a little word of comfort. I grieve that you feel your captivity so much, that you so deeply mourn your absence from your dear native land. But is it not better to meet misfortune with courage, and bear it with patience? You are yet left the society of each other, you can yet talk over old days together, while the white bear growls in his prison alone, and the lofty camel has no companion near him."

I was interrupted by some animal near dashing itself passionately against the bars of its cage, and, turning round, I beheld a very savage rat, which bore the name of the German Hamster. His head was thick, blunt, and garnished with plenty of whiskers; he had big eyes, and large, open, rounded ears. His back and head were of a reddish-brown colour, his cheeks red, his feet white, and he had three odd white spots on each side of his chest. But the funniest thing which I noticed about him, (I was always an observant rat,) was that he had a claw on his forefeet in addition to four toes, which I had never before seen in the tribes of Mus.

"'Tis easy to talk of comfort!" he exclaimed angrily, "when a rat has freedom and everything else that he cares for! But here-- why I have not even the comfort of going to sleep after the fashion of my country!"

"Not going to sleep!" I repeated in some surprise, thinking to myself that so peevish a creature must certainly be best in his sleep.

"No; who can sleep on bare boards, or a poor sprinkling of straw!" he exclaimed, striking contemptuously the floor of his cage. "I who used to burrow deep in the earth, and enjoy a long nap all during the winter, shut up in my snug little home, I know what comfort is! There is nothing like lying some feet under the earth, as quiet as if one were dead, and know that there is a good magazine collected of grain, beans, and pease, to feast on when one awakes in the spring."

"But at any rate here you are well fed," I suggested.

The words, however kindly intended, had only the effect of increasing the Hamster's passion to a shocking extent. To my amazement and horror he blew out his cheeks till the size of his head and neck exceeded that of his body. He raised himself on his hind legs, and but for the bars of his cage I believe that he would really have flown at me.

"Well fed!" he exclaimed, as soon as he could speak; "I should like to know what you call being well fed! Since I have come to this hateful country, not once have I had an opportunity of filling my cheeks with grain. Man, stingy man, thinks it enough to give me a wretched pittance from day to day,-- to me who have had a hundred pounds of corn packed up in my own deep hole,-- to me whose delight it was to carry three ounces weight of it at once in these bags with which Nature has provided my face!"

"Most curious and convenient bags they are," said I, willing to appease him by a civil word, though I thought that thus puffed out with air, they anything but added to the beauty of his appearance.

"They were the cause of my being taken," cried the fierce Hamster, whose savage complaints had quite silenced the gentler murmurs of the pretty little Lemmings, and had done more perhaps to make them submissive to their lot than anything which I could have said.

"How were your pouches the cause of your being taken?" inquired I.

"I can fight savagely-- I will fly even at dogs," replied the Hamster (no one could have looked at him and have doubted it,) "but I cannot bite when my cheeks are stuffed full of grain, which was the case when a German peasant seized me; I had no time to empty them, not a moment, or wouldn't I have bitten him! oh, would not I have bitten him!"

I felt so much disgusted at the words and manner of this most ferocious of rats, that I was glad to turn away from his cage; reflecting to myself how hideous and how hateful any creature is rendered by violent passion.

A perfume, rather more powerful than agreeable, drew my attention towards a division occupied by a Musk-Rat, a native of Canada. I saw within it a creature of the size of a small rabbit, quiet and staid in his demeanour, who welcomed me with a grave courtesy strangely in contrast to the rudeness of the Hamster.

"May I venture to look upon you as belonging to the race of Mus?" I inquired, looking doubtingly at his large size, soft fur, and long flat tail.

"Well," he replied, good-humouredly, "some naturalists, and I believe the great Linnæus amongst them, class me with the Castor or Beaver race, and dignify me with a very long and learned-sounding name, Zibethicus. But I am quite content, for my part, to own my relationship to the race of Mus, and to be known by the simple name Musk-Rat, which they give me on the lakes of Canada."

"I am delighted," said I, with a wave of my whiskers, "at this opportunity of paying my respects to so dignified a relation."

"Ah!" replied Zibethicus, "I only wish that I could have received you in my own house upon the Lake Huron. If you could but have seen the pretty round dwelling raised by myself and my companions-- the neat dome-shaped roof which covered it, formed of herbs and reeds cemented with clay. So prettily it was stuccoed within! A great deal of trouble it cost us, to be sure, but I often think there's no pleasure without trouble; and there's nothing in my captivity which I miss so much as the power to labour and build."

"May I ask," said I, "whether you be of the same family with the Musk Cavy, which I have heard of as inhabiting Ceylon and other places in the East?"

"I believe not," answered my courteous companion, "but we doubtless belong to the same race, however our habits and appearance may differ."

Our pleasant conversation was here unfortunately interrupted by the keeper's opening the door. I had barely time to hide myself under some straw, resolving not to show myself again till darkness should render it safe for me to creep out.

Soon various visitors arrived, and I was vastly amused by watching the different varieties of the human species, of which there must be nearly as many as of the race of Mus. For the first time in my life I saw ladies all bedizened in velvets and silks, and the furry spoils of many an unfortunate ermine or sable. I saw gentlemen too, and I confess that a creeping uncomfortable feeling came over me when I looked at the hats which they had on their heads, the fine black gloss was so exceedingly like that of the coat which I wore. I have since learnt that my conjecture was but too close to the fact-- that numberless hapless rats are slaughtered in France on account of their fatal beauty; and that man not only manufactures their fur into hats, but uses their soft and delicate skins to make the thumbs of his best gloves. Alas, for the race of Mus!