Chapter XII: Part 12

Here is an amusing traveller's tale about some monkeys which carried their love of imitating very far; as you will say when you have read

"THE SAILOR AND THE MONKEYS.

"Once, in the hope of honest gain
From Afric's golden store,
A smart young sailor crossed the main,
And landed on the shore.

"And leaving soon the sultry strand
Where his fair vessel lay,
He travelled o'er the neighbouring land
To trade in peaceful way.

"Full many a toy had he to sell,
And caps of scarlet dye;
And such things as he knew full well
Would please the native's eye.

"But as he travelled through the woods
He longed to have a nap,
And opening there his pack of goods,
Took out a scarlet cap,

"And drew it on his head, thereby
To shield him from the sun;
Then soundly slept, nor thought an eye
Had seen what he had done.

"But many a monkey dwelling there,
Though hidden from his eyes,
Having well watched the whole affair,
Now longed to win a prize.

"And while he slept each one did seize
A cap to deck his brows;
Then climbing up the highest trees,
Sat chattering on the boughs.

"The sailor waked, his caps were gone,
And loud and long he grieves,
Till, looking up with heart forlorn,
He spied at once the thieves.

"With cap of red upon each head
Full fifty faces grim,
The sailor sees amid the trees,
With all eyes fixed on him.

"He brandished quick a mighty stick,
But could not reach their bower,
Nor could he stone, for every one
Was far beyond his power.

"'Alas!' he thought, 'I've safely brought
My caps far o'er the seas;
But could not guess it was to dress
Such little rogues as these.'

"Then quickly down he threw his own,
And loud in anger cried,
'Take this one too, you thievish crew,
Since you have all beside.'

"But quick as thought the caps were thrown
From every monkey's crown,
For, like himself, each little elf
Threw his directly down.

"He then with ease did gather these,
And in his pack did bind;
Then through the woods conveyed his goods,
And sold them to his mind."

I daresay you could tell me the story of the monkeys who washed their hands and faces in pitch, and so were caught. But from all the stories which are told about monkeys, I fancy that we think of them too much as clever, and noisy, and mischievous, and sometimes very ill-tempered and revengeful; so I want to tell you something of their good and gentle ways, and especially of their love for their little ones.

I used to watch a mother, in the monkey-house at the Gardens, nursing her baby--a tiny grey thing, with its hair parted down the middle, and the funniest, most knowing little face of its own. She nursed it in the tenderest way, with such a loving expression on her face the while.

Then I have read of an American monkey driving away the flies which teased her little one; and of another good mother who was seen washing the faces of her family in a stream. And they are kind not only to their own; for if a poor little monkey is left an orphan, it is sure to be taken care of by some other monkey's father or mother.

A gentleman who was coming home from India tells this story: There were on board two monkeys, one older than the other, but not its mother. One day the little one fell overboard. The other at once jumped over the side of the vessel to a part of the ship where she could stand, and holding on by one hand, with the other she held out to the poor little drowning monkey the end of the cord by which she was tied up, but which was then dangling from her waist. It was a wonderful plan for her to think of, was it not? But the cord was too short, and the little monkey was saved by a sailor who threw it a rope, which came near enough for it to catch at and cling to.

I remember being told by a brother of mine who had once shot a young monkey, that he could not forget the reproachful look which the poor mother gave him, and he never again would shoot one. He said the little wounded monkey cried like a child.

If you have ever seen a bat, you will think it strange to class these winged creatures with monkeys, and it does at first sight seem a mistake that they should be among the Mammalia at all; one would expect to see all winged things in the Bird family. But the bat is rightly placed in this division, and you will understand why it has been classed with the Quadrumana, when you have carefully examined those soft, fan-like wings which you can spread out with your fingers. If you could take a bat in your hand, and look at it from head to foot, you would notice three things very unlike a bird about it. In the first place, it has no feathers, but is covered with very soft grey fur; it has no beak, but sharp teeth--so sharp that I advise you to keep your fingers out of their way; then, look at its long ears! It certainly cannot be a bird.

Besides being reckoned among the four-handed creatures, a Greek name has been given to bats, from the curious way in which their fore paws, or hands, have been lengthened out into wings; it means "hand-winged."

Now, keeping this name in mind, gently unfold the wing: the small bones which you feel, over which the soft grey web is stretched, are really the fingers of the animal, very long fingers they are, and the web is the skin of the back and breast which has been drawn over them, so as to make this strange hand-wing. If you cannot examine a live bat, perhaps by studying this picture of one, you may understand better how this soft, dusky wing is made.

The bat is what is called a nocturnal animal, because it cannot bear the strong light of day, and flies about at night in search of its food. We sometimes hear it said that a person is "as blind as a bat," but that is because when bats are taken, contrary to their nature, into the sunlight, they are so dazzled by it, that they fly blunderingly hither and thither, in their efforts to get away from it. They have very sharp eyes, but they do not use them by day, but sleep all day long, hitched to a stone in a wall, or to a branch in the woods by their hind legs--always choosing a dark place, and folding their wings around them like a curtain.

I remember being very much afraid of bats when I was a child. An old castle by the sea swarmed with them, and when my brothers took lighted pieces of wood and went into the dark, deserted ruin to rouse the sleeping bats and see whether they could not catch one, the way in which the poor dazed creatures flew at our faces in their blind efforts to escape frightened me very much, and when one was caught and put into my hand I disliked the "creepy" feel of the soft wings too much to keep it long. I knew nothing about bats then, and was silly enough to think that they were "horrid" and "frightful" creatures--words which we should not use in speaking of anything that God has made. Now that I have learnt a little about them, I fancy I should not mind going into that old castle, and having another look at them; but still I do not think I should care to have one for a pet.

Perhaps you think no one would; but I have read of a tame bat which knew its master, and loved to be stroked and petted as much as a dog would. Indeed it behaved very much like a dog, for it would climb up its master's coat and rub its head against him--more like a cat, you will say, in this--and lick his hands. When its master sat down, the bat used to hitch itself up to the back of his chair, and it would take flies and insects from his hand. But I have no doubt he was always a dull pet in the daytime; for it really is his time for sleep, and we cannot change the nature of animals, and ought not to try to do so.

Talking about sleeping, I must not forget to tell you that a bat is like a dormouse in one respect: it does not fly away to a warm, country when the cold is coming, and the insects are getting scarce, but goes off to sleep in a barn, or belfry, or cave, and sleeps on all through the winter, needing neither food nor drink. There are many different kinds of bats about which you can read in Natural History books; one kind eats fruit, not insects. The bat is about the size of a mouse, and feeds its young, as the mouse does, with milk. When we were speaking of the animals mentioned in the Bible no one thought of the bat; but it is referred to among the birds or winged things, which might not be eaten by the Israelites; also in Isaiah ii. we read that in that day when the Lord alone shall be exalted, "a man shall cast his idols of silver and his idols of gold ... to the moles and to the bats"--for they especially haunt waste and desolate places.

Now we must leave the Four-handed family, and come to the largest class among the Mammalia--the Quadrupeds. As all four-footed animals, no matter how unlike each other they may be in other respects, belong to this family, you may imagine what a very large one it must be. Naturalists have divided the Quadrupeds into different classes, and at the head of them they place the Carnivora, or flesh-eaters, so called because they are beasts of prey, catching birds and smaller animals alive, and eating them.

The animals of the Cat kind--lions, tigers, panthers, jaguars--are the most beautiful as well as the most dangerous of this class. They have long and sharp teeth, and very long claws--five on the forefeet and four on the hinder-feet--and these claws are kept sharp by being guarded within a soft sheath when not wanted; so that all these cat-like creatures tread very softly.

You have often noticed how pussy can stretch out her claws when she wishes to climb or to scratch, but you know they are most often hidden within this velvet sheath. If you have ever watched your cat creeping cautiously nearer and nearer to her prey, and then suddenly springing upon the poor little mouse or bird, you will know exactly how such great and terrible cats as lions and tigers spring upon their prey, whether it be a cow or a sheep, a man or a child.

Of all of them, none is so fierce as the

"Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,"

which is found now in only one quarter of the world--in Asia, especially India--and is so bold that he will fight with a lion.

No beast has such a beautiful skin; but you may not know that this wonderful coat is made for use as well as for beauty. A writer who has observed very carefully says, "However lovely nature frames or fashions a plant or a bird or an animal, it is never for ornament, but for some actual purpose or use." It is a good thing to bear this in mind, and to try to find out the uses of the beautiful things which you see. The stripes of the tiger are so very like the long grass--taller than a tall man--of the jungle, is its home, that the hunters, mounted on their trained elephants, cannot see him, unless he betrays his hiding-place by some movement. Tiger-hunting is a very dangerous sport, and many tigers are killed, not in the chase, but by being taken in pitfalls by the natives.

I am sure you know a great deal about the king of beasts, and I need not describe him, since you have probably both seen him and heard his terrible voice. Still, we can have little idea, from seeing lions in this country--very likely born in captivity--how majestic the king is in his forest home in Africa. Those who have heard his roar echoing through the forest, say that it rolls along like distant thunder, and that when he is angry his eyes flash with a gleam almost like lightning. His strength is so enormous that one blow of that soft paw, which looks so harmless, will break the back of a horse, or knock down the strongest man; and he will carry off a young cow as a cat carries off a mouse. Young lions are very pretty, and as playful as kittens. I have seen a happy family all in one cage--a great African lion called Hannibal, with a very royal look; a lioness and her four cubs, playing with a retriever pup! The cribs looked very much like big puppies, and had such innocent, gentle little faces, that you would have liked to pat and pet them.

You will not be surprised to hear that the lion was the one chosen by all the little boys, when they answered their question about animals mentioned in the Bible. They all found the story telling how David, when he was a shepherd boy, killed both a lion and a bear, when they had taken a lamb from the flock, and rescued the helpless little creature out of the very mouth of the lion--and how he said to King Saul, "The Lord hath delivered me out of the paw of the lion" [that strong paw which can knock a man down], "and out of the paw of the bear, He will deliver me out of the hand of this Philistine;" and, strong in the Lord and in the power of His might, he went to meet the boastful giant of whom everyone was afraid.

I also had references given me to Daniel in the den of lions and to the sad story of the prophet who disobeyed the word of the Lord, and was slain by a lion. Will you see whether you can find the name of one against whom a young lion roared? "And the Spirit of the Lord came mightily upon him, and he rent him as he would have rent a kid, and he had nothing in his hand." And also the name of one of King David's mighty men, who "went down ... and slew a lion in the midst of a pit, in time of snow?" There are no lions now in Palestine, but they were at one time often seen there; they made their lair in caves among the mountains, and on the reedy banks of the Jordan.

Other wild beasts--which are really great cats--are the beautifully spotted Panthers or Leopards of Africa and Asia, the fierce and cunning Jaguar of South America, and the Puma, sometimes called, without much reason for the name, the American lion.

Wild cats were once common in England, and it has been thought that our home-cats are their descendants, only tamed; but I believe this is not true, and that our cats came from the East. It is generally thought that they are not very affectionate animals, or rather that their affections are set upon places more than upon people; but they are certainly very fond of their own kittens, and very proud of them when they first begin to "walk high," which I suppose answers to a baby's beginning to "run away."

Mr. Wood, in _The Boy's Own Book of Natural History_, tells a pretty story about a baker's cat, which was so fond of him, when he was a young man at college, that she used to come regularly morning and evening to have her breakfast and tea with him. He says, "She continued her attentions for some time, but one morning she was absent from her accustomed corner, nor did she return till nearly a week had passed, when she came again, but always seemed uneasy unless the door were open. A few days afterwards, she came up as usual, and jumped on to my knee, at the same time putting a little kitten into my hand. She refused to take it back again, so I restored it to its brothers and sisters myself. A few hours afterwards, on going into my bedroom, I found another black kitten fast asleep on the bed." Fancy this mother being so anxious to show her kittens, and so sure that her friend would be pleased to find one in his bed!

Next to the Cat family comes that of the Dog, and in this family Wolves, Jackals, and Foxes are placed, as well as Dogs. I had some texts about wolves given me by the boys, but I do not think we shall have time to speak of them now. Wolves and jackals and foxes are very much like dogs run wild, while dogs in many respects are like these wild animals become tame; so much so, that it is believed that the "friend of man" has altered a good deal in the thousands of years during which he has been his constant companion; he has become less fierce, but has also lost some of the independence which once belonged to him, and is very much behind foxes and jackals in knowing how to take care of himself and get his own living.

We ought to treat with great respect and kindness a creature which we have in this way made dependent upon us, and one which gives us its affection so freely, and is so glad even of a kind word or look from its master or mistress.

Dogs have a good deal of dignity, and their feelings are very easily hurt. Perhaps you think it is saying too much for a doggie to talk of its having feelings that can be hurt, but I assure you dogs _have_ feelings, and very keen ones too.

The master of a little Skye terrier found that a reproachful word, or a look of displeasure, would make him miserable for a whole day; he never thought of such a thing as beating him; but once, when he was away from home, his brother, who did not know the dog, kindly took him out every day for a walk in the park. One day, when he wanted him to come on, he gave him a blow with his glove. The dog, who had been playing about with a friend he had met, stopped and looked up at him in surprise, as if he would have said, "If you knew whose dog I am you would never treat me so,"--then turned and ran away home. Next day he was again taken out by his master's brother, but when they had gone a little way he stopped, looked in his face as much as to say, "You remember what you did?" and then trotted home; he could never again be induced to go out with the person who had so offended his dignity. This sensitive little Skye could not bear to see anyone hurt, and when driving with his master would pull his sleeve, and try to check him every time he touched the horse with his whip.

A little white, curly dog, whom the children knew well, had a great objection to his Saturday bath, and would get out of the way when he saw it was coming. Tippoo submitted to be washed when he found there was no escape; but a little dog belonging to a lady used to make such a fuss over his weekly bath that at last none of the servants would run the risk of being bitten and snapped at by him. His mistress tried threatening him, then beating, then keeping him without his dinner; but all was of no use until she made up her mind to see what taking no notice of him would do. The doggie found it very hard when his dear mistress came home, and he ran out with his joyful bark to welcome her, to see her turn her head away from him just when he was longing for a pat or a kind word; and I fancy the lady found it hard too, constantly to disappoint all his little efforts to attract her attention; but she went on for more than a week, showing her pet in this way that something was wrong, and there is no doubt at all that the wise little creature knew what it was. He looked very miserable all the time, and at last crept quietly to her side, and, as she says in telling the story, "gave a look which said as plainly as any spoken words could have done, 'I can stand it no longer; I submit.' Then, after patiently bearing the washing, without snapping or fighting, he came in wagging his tail with a joyful bark, as much as to say, 'It's all right now'!"

I am sure you have read or heard accounts of the large Newfoundland dogs; of whose courage in saving children who fall into the water, many beautiful stories are told; and also of the dear, faithful Collies with their pointed noses, who know all their master's sheep, and will drive them wherever they are told to go; and even, when two flocks have got mixed, will separate them with the most wonderful patience and cleverness. A Scotch shepherd, who loved poetry, and made some verses about the skylark, which Sharley and May repeat, tells a story of one of these dogs which I am sure you will think worth remembering.

The collie's name was Sirrah, and his master prized him greatly. When the shepherd first bought him he was scarcely a year old, "and," he says, "knew so little of herding that he had never turned a sheep in his life; but as soon as he discovered that it was his duty to do so, and that it obliged me, I can never forget with what anxiety and eagerness he learned his different evolutions. He would try every way deliberately, till he found out what I wanted him to do, and when I once made him understand a direction he never forgot or mistook it again."

Sirrah's master once had charge of a flock of seven hundred lambs, and one night the whole flock broke up into three divisions, and ran away in the dark, so that the shepherd could not tell where they had gone. The night was so dark that he could not even see Sirrah, much less tell him how to find the lost lambs; but the dog knew exactly what had happened, and had no doubt at all about whose duty it was to get the flock together again. All night long the shepherd sought in vain, not being able even to discover what direction either of the three flocks of truant lambs had taken; but in the morning he suddenly came upon his dog, guarding the whole flock--all the seven hundred brought back, and not one of them lost.

I have been told that while a trained sheep-dog is so valuable to his master, and can be so trusted by him, one that has been allowed to grow up without any teaching or training is of little worth. The training must begin while the collie is young, and an old hand at it says, "The first thing to learn your pup is to mind at the word." From this beginning the dog goes on until he seems almost to read his master's thoughts in his face, and to watch each movement of his hand and each glance of his eye. Of one of these dogs his master says:

"I have known him lie night and day among from ten to twenty pails full of milk, and never once break the cream of one of them with the tip of his tongue; nor would he suffer cat, rat, nor any other creature to touch it."

Sheep-dogs become very much attached to each other, as this story shows. Two Scotch collies were fast friends, going everywhere together until one of them died, and was buried on the top of a hill. The other watched the spot, and when no one was by, actually scratched at the new-made grave, and dug up the body of his comrade. Afterwards, when it had been buried again, and heavy stones laid round the place, he still kept watch there, howling piteously and eating nothing, until he died upon the grave of the friend he had loved so well.

But while there are so many beautiful stories of the loving and faithful and tender and true ways of dogs, we must not forget that they sometimes show cruel and revengeful tempers, as well as something of that low kind of cleverness which tries to deceive, and on account of which the fox has such a bad name.

Only the other day I was told about a dog who actually killed a pretty little kitten from pure jealousy, because he could not bear to see his mistress pet and fondle it. _He_ had been the pet for a long time, and when this new favourite came, he showed his dislike in many ways. One day Flossie--the little kitten--was missing, and could nowhere be found. At last, something about the dog's guilty look made his mistress sure that he knew better than anyone else what had become of her. So she looked at him very severely, and said, "Turk, _you_ know where little Flossie is. Show me directly."

Turk walked straight to the waste-paper basket, which was under the table, and began to take the paper out, bit by bit. At the bottom of the basket lay the poor little furry pet, killed by the dog in a fit of jealousy! How sad it is to think what sin has done, how even in the animals it may be seen that they belong to a world where the man, whom God made head over them, turned away from Him, and distrusted and disobeyed Him.

But since I have told you of Turk's cruel jealousy, I must not forget a very pretty story of a dog who saved the life of a kitten which was to have been drowned. When he saw the poor little thing thrown into the pond, he swam after it and brought it back, laying it at the feet of the groom who had thrown it into the water. The man took the helpless creature up and threw it back again, and again the dog rescued it. A third time it was thrown into the water, and a third time saved from drowning; but now the dog brought it to the opposite side of the pool, carried it home in his mouth, and laid it beside the fire to dry. In this case which would you rather be like--the man or the dog?

The children often say that our Tippoo, the little white dog of which I told you, does things "just like a person"; he will contentedly eat what he does not care for, because he expects to get something he likes, as a reward. If he has been naughty, you can generally know it by his face, and he will hide away under the sofa, until brought out from his refuge, and made to show what he has been doing. He cannot bear to be laughed at; nothing hurts his feelings so sorely, unless indeed it be seeing a little child petted: this is almost more than he can bear. But he behaves better than Psyche, another little Maltese terrier of my acquaintance, who used to fly at anyone who dared to kiss her mistress. Poor little Psyche's was a sad end, for she was killed by a carriage while crossing the street to get to her mistress.

Dogs have all sorts of ways of making their wants known, but I think you will admit that a little dog called Button was particularly clever in his way of doing it, when you hear how he managed. He used to have goat's milk for breakfast, and one morning, when he thought breakfast-time had passed without any being brought to him, he made up his mind that he had been forgotten; so he went to the closet where the china was kept, fetched the cup in which his milk was always given him, carried it in his teeth, and laid it down at the feet of the maid who used to milk the goat for him. I think he had earned his breakfast, don't you?

Another dog, who has a drinking-trough of his own, draws attention to it, if it is allowed to go dry by scratching at it, till someone fills it with fresh water.

May knows a very pretty story in verse about a little dog called Music, who did all she could to save a greyhound, Dart, from drowning, when he had gone down beneath the ice while trying to cross a frozen river. It must have been a touching thing to see her standing on the broken edge, and stretching out her paw, like a hand, to save him, while she as the poem says,

"... makes efforts and complainings, nor gives o'er
Until her fellow sank, and reappeared no more."

Faithful, loving little Music failed to save her friend; but a Scotch dog was the means of saving the life of his master, as he was crossing a river on the ice. When the crash came, and he sank, he had the presence of mind to support himself by means of his gun, which lay across the broken ice. The dog, after making attempts to save his master, seemed to understand that the only thing he could do for him was to leave him, and go in search of help. So off he ran to the next village, and pulled at the coat of the first man he saw, so earnestly, that he got the man to follow him, and was in time to save the life of the drowning man.

But more remarkable still is the story of a strange dog who seems to have been sent by God to protect a poor miner's house in his absence.

In a very lonely place in Cornwall, the house of a miner is situated among the rocks. Only he and his wife lived there, and the poor woman was often left alone far into the night, as her husband's work kept him very late.

One evening a large dog came up the hill to this cottage, and began to make himself at home there, and to make friends with the miner's wife. At first she petted him, but when it began to grow dark, she thought he ought to be going to his own home, and used every effort to send him away. But the dog would not be turned out, and at last the lonely woman allowed him to stay with her. Late at night, a noise of footsteps was heard, and she ran to open the door, as she thought, to her husband. But the dog sprang past her into the darkness, and she heard the sound of a great struggle, and then the footsteps again passing down the path. The dog presently came back to her, but after a time she began to be alarmed lest he should have attacked and frightened--perhaps injured--her husband, as he was returning home. Lighting a lantern, she unbarred the door, and went out into the dark night, still attended by the strange dog, who seemed resolved not to leave her. They soon met the miner on his way home, and the dog, far from springing upon him, went up to him, and then--without a word, I was going to say--disappeared into the darkness. The miner's wife could never find out anything about him, but she felt quite sure that it was God who had sent this strange protector to take care of her in her loneliness.

Now this must be nearly our last Dog-story, or we shall never have done, for there is no end to the wonderful tales which are told of the sense and kindliness and courage and faithfulness of these creatures who are so rightly called the friends of man.

You remember that wolves, foxes, and jackals are placed in the Dog-family; and if you notice the wolves at the Zoological Gardens, you will see in how many respects they resemble dogs. It is when they go about in great numbers, as they do in the east of Europe and Asia, that these animals are such dreaded foes, and devour so many defenceless sheep and cattle.

Do you not think this a wonderful account of a traveller and a wolf taking shelter together in a storm and lying down side by side? It is called

"FATHER'S STORY.

"'Little one, come to my knee!
Hark! how the rain is pouring
Over the roof, in the pitch-black night
And the wind in the woods is roaring.

"'Hush, my darling, and listen;
Then pay for the story with kisses;
Father was lost in a pitch-black night,
In just such a storm as this is!

"'High up on the lonely mountains,
Where the wild men watched and waited;
Wolves in the forest and bears in the bush,
And I on my path belated.

"'The rain and the night came together
Came down, and the wind came after,
Bending the props of the pine-tree roof,
And snapping many a rafter.

"'I crept along in the darkness,
Stunned and bruised and blinded,
Crept to a fir with thick set boughs,
And a sheltering rock behind it.

"'There, from the blowing and raining,
Crouching, I sought to hide me;
Something rustled, two green eyes shone,
And a wolf lay down beside me.

"'Little one, be not frightened;
I and the wolf together,
Side by side, through the long, long night,
Hid from the awful weather.

"'His wet fur pressed against me;
Each of us warmed the other;
Each of us felt in the stormy dark,
That man and beast was brother.

"'And when the falling forest
No longer crashed in warning,
Each of us went from our hiding place
Forth in the wild, wet morning.

"'Now, darling, kiss me in payment,
And hark! how the wind is roaring;
Surely home is a better place,
When the stormy rain is pouring!'"

The Fox, as you know, is found in most parts of England, and in many other countries. He is a sly, clever hunter, living by day in the hole which he hollows out for himself, and prowling about at night, stealing from hen-roosts, or pouncing upon some unwary hare or rabbit. The Jackal, which is perhaps more like a wolf than a fox, and lives in Africa and parts of Asia, is also a great devourer of game and poultry.

The Arctic-fox, which is found in the far north, is grey during the summer, but turns white as snow in winter, and its coat then becomes so thick as to cover even the soles of its feet. It is interesting to notice that those creatures whose home is in the far north are clad in grey or white, for animals which are hunted either as prey or for the sake of their fur, often take the colour of the ground, whether it be covered with snow, as in the Arctic regions, or brake and heather, as upon the moors and furzy coverts where our own hares and foxes hide.

Now we come to the bears, which are found all the world over except in Africa. The Brown bear, which is a peaceable creature, feeding on honey or fruits, is still met with in the Alps and Pyrenees, as well as in the north of Europe, but it has not lived in England since before the Conquest, at a time when wolves were quite common with us; especially in Wales.

The Grizzly bear is a very different animal; its home is in North America, and it will hunt down a man with such determination that it is very much dreaded by the fur-hunters. The white or Polar bear belongs entirely to the Arctic regions, so that I have often wondered that the great creature which looks so innocent as it dives for the bread which is thrown to it by visitors at the Gardens, or plays with its ball in the water, does not die during our hot summer months. I have heard that the reason why the soles of its feet are so hairy is because in its northern home it is constantly travelling over icefields, sometimes climbing the lofty bergs--and the long hair prevents it from slipping. If so, this is but one more instance showing how perfectly the animals are fitted for the life which they live in their natural state.

And now we must pass from this group to another great Division of the Mammalia--the Herbivorous animals, which live, not on the flesh of birds or beasts, which they hunt for themselves, but upon grass and green things.

In the first class the Gnawing creatures are placed; you can always know them by their teeth. Perhaps you remember how different the front teeth of a rabbit are from those long, sharp ones which pussy shows now and then when she yawns. By constantly gnawing their food, the teeth of squirrels, hares, rats, mice, dormice, and all animals called Rodents, or Gnawers, would soon be worn away, but that, unlike our teeth, they never cease growing while the creature lives. The most interesting of these creatures is the Beaver, with its webbed hind feet and broad tail. I hope you will some day read about the mud-built houses, and the clever dams which beavers make across the rivers. Mr. Wood says that when they have been tamed they will still go on building dams across one corner of the room in which they are, and collecting boots, brushes, books, all sorts of things, and putting them together industriously; for they still have in captivity the same instinct which teaches them to dam the stream where they build, so that the entrance to their houses may always be below the surface, and never be barred by the ice, during frost.

The teeth of horses are differently formed from those of the gnawing animals: at the back they are massive, and act like grindstones, crushing the grain which they eat. The Horse-family includes the patient Ass, and the beautifully marked Zebra of South Africa. I need not tell you that all these animals have only one toe, with that hard and strong toe-nail which is called the hoof.

The Ruminants, or animals that chew the cud, are cows, sheep, and goats, deer, giraffes, and camels.

You have often noticed a Cow when lying down in the field, going on eating, although she seems to have no food before her. This is because she has already eaten plenty of grass, very fast, and now that she is resting, she brings what she has, as it were, laid up in store, back into her mouth, and chews it over again.

I think there are no animals so often mentioned in the Bible as oxen, sheep, and lambs, goats and kids; and they are the only creatures, except the turtle dove and the pigeon, which were offered as sacrifices, from the time when Eve's second son brought of the firstlings of his flock, and of the fat thereof, "and the Lord had respect unto Abel and to his offering."

All creatures that chew the cud have two toes, or are what is called cloven-footed. The Camel, whose home is in the dry and thirsty desert, has the power of storing up water, and bringing it back into its mouth for several days after it has drunk it. This enables it to make long journeys, without needing a brook by the way. Its feet, too, are just fitted for the sandy wastes which it has to tread. The one-humped camel is found in Africa, and the two-humped, or Bactrian camel, in Asia. The Llama of South America is like the camel in some respects, but, as you know, is very much smaller; I knew one which had a disagreeable habit of spitting at those who came to call upon him, and I have read or others doing the same. We read of Abraham having camels, and of John the Baptist wearing clothes made of camel's hair, and that King Solomon had deer.

The beautiful Giraffe, found only in South Africa, is like the camel in some respects, and the deer in others. That long neck which it arches so gracefully when you offer it a bun, enables it in its forest-home to feed upon the leaves of trees; so you see it is for use, not only for beauty.

There could hardly be a greater contrast to the giraffe than the Elephant, with its short neck and large body; but what the giraffe can do with its long neck, that, and a great deal more, the elephant can do with the wonderful trunk which is his nose, his hand, his trumpet, and we might almost say his mouth, as he could neither reach his food nor drink except by its help, his neck being so short.

There are only two kinds of elephants, the Asiatic and the African, the latter having very large ears, and the former only being tamed; the African elephant is hunted merely for the sake of its ivory tusks.

In a delightful story book, called _Friends in Fur and Feathers_, we had all read a very interesting account of a young elephant called Kornegalle Jack, which became exceedingly attached to his master. I wonder whether you know it? If you do not, perhaps you might have the book for your next birthday present, and read a great deal about elephants, as well as other animals, whose names only we have time, to mention now.

But you will say, perhaps, that we have forgotten one kind of animal, for we have not said a word about Pigs. Well, Piggie has not been forgotten; but it seems difficult for him to find just his own place among the classes of Mammalia, for he is like several of the quadrupeds in some particular, but unlike any one of them altogether. You cannot put him with the Ruminants, and yet he has cloven feet; he has the same number of teeth as the horse, and his snout is rather like, in a small way, the trunk of the elephant; then, in his wild state, he might almost be reckoned among the beasts of prey, for the wild Boar, with its terrible tusks, is a most formidable creature to encounter.

Of all the families of the Mammalia, that of Rats and Mice is the most numerous. There are two kinds of rats, the black and the brown. I do not know to which kind Willie's "Ratto" belongs, but I have heard many stories of his clever tricksy ways, and of how well he knew his name, and obeyed his master.

A rat, however clever, is not an animal which I should care to pet and tame; but I know a very interesting story of one which seemed to be the means of taming a poor man who was so wild and miserable that he cared for nobody. This man had been transported for life, for some of his wicked deeds, and he was so savage that even the companions who worked with him were afraid of him, and hardly dared speak to him.

Once, as he was at work in the woods near Port Philip, felling trees, with a heavy chain around him lest he should escape, a rat, chased by some boys, ran towards him, and nestled inside his shirt. There the frightened creature lay, in its place of refuge, close to that hard heart which cared for no fellow-man; and as the poor lonely convict felt its fluttering, a strange feeling came over him towards the trembling thing which had thus trusted him. He asked leave to keep it as a pet, and from that time the rat followed its protector everywhere, faithful and loving as a dog; and from caring for his little rescued friend, the man who had been so savage and hard, became more gentle, and no longer needed to be chained, and kept almost as if he had been a wild beast. There is a sad ending to this story, for at last the rat was killed by a bough falling upon it, and its death caused such grief to its master that he never spoke again; but I do not know his history to the very end, and I hope that even through seeing the gratitude and faithfulness of one of the creatures whom God had made, he may have learnt that the God against whom he had so hardened himself was ready to forgive and to receive him, for the sake of the Lord Jesus Christ, who came "to seek and to save that which was lost."

We must not forget the Toothless animals, of which the Ant-eater is the best known. They live upon insects, chiefly white ants, which they catch by tearing open their houses with their strong claws, and then rolling their long tongues among them. The tongue of the ant-eater is covered with a kind of gum, to which the ants stick, and when there is room for not one more, the living mouthful is swallowed.

Perhaps your cousins in Australia sometimes tell you about the great Kangaroo, or "Old man," as they call him in that part of the world. By means of his very long and powerful hind legs, and strong tail, he can leap great distances, so rapidly as to outstrip a greyhound. There are many species of kangaroos, but they are all much alike, and belong to the order of Pouched animals; so called because instead of rearing her young in a nest which she has made for them, the mother carries them in a bag. The little creatures at their birth are more helpless than most young animals, and this pouch is their home for some time, and their refuge in danger, even after they have grown beyond the need of her constant care.

Australia has no animals like those of other parts of the world, except the dog and the bat; but only one of these pouched animals--the Opossum of America--is not found there. This creature is very like a monkey, and the one best known in the southern states of America is about the size of a cat, and very mischievous--as it sleeps during the day and prowls about at night, in search of birds, eggs, and fruit. It has the power, which some animals possess, of pretending to be dead, when in danger of being caught; and thus it often escapes.

Seals and Whales must also be classed among the Mammalia, although they are especially formed to live in the water.

Whales, though so much like fishes that they used to be classed with them, have warm blood and do not breathe through gills; so they have to come to the surface of the water every now and then, in order to get air. By-and-by, when you read more, you will understand how it is that the whale, though it breathes as you do, is able to stay under water as long as half an hour at a time.

Now, at the end of this long chapter about the Mammalia, let us see what we have been noticing about them.

They are put first in the Vertebrate Group, though we have spoken of the birds and fishes before them, because they were made on the Fifth Day.

They are generally--for we must not forget the whale--covered with hair or fur, and they feed their young with milk. First of the classes into which the Mammalia are divided, we place the Four-handed creatures--apes and monkeys.

Second, the Hand-winged; the bats.

Third, the Flesh-eaters; many of them beasts of prey of the Cat-kind and of the Dog-kind.

Fourth, the Herbivora; animals which feed upon grasses.

Fifth, the Horse-tribe.

Sixth, the Ruminants; animals which chew the cud.

Seventh, Elephants.

Eighth, the Pig-kind, including the Hippopotamus which is believed to be the creature called Behemoth.

Ninth, the Pouched animals.

Tenth, Seals, including the Walrus.

Eleventh, the Whale-tribe.

In saying "good-bye for the present" to this wide field of interest, shall we make up our minds to observe for our own selves the animals which we see every day, and to notice particularly how beautifully they are formed so as to live in the way which is, as we say, suited to their nature; and also to read some of the many interesting books on Natural History, where we shall find pictures of the different "orders" of animals, and learn all sorts of curious things about their habits?

God does not tell us what we do not need to know, just how he fed the beasts of prey, and all the flesh-eating creatures which, in their present state, live upon birds or animals which they catch alive; but God does not say either that there was any death in the Garden of Eden, or that the creatures which He had just made, each "after its kind," and all "very good," preyed upon those weaker and smaller than themselves. It has been found that it is possible _now_ for those beasts whose claws are fitted for catching their prey--and their long sharp teeth for tearing to pieces what they have caught--to live upon green things; and we know from the chapter we have been reading together that God at the first gave them "every green herb for meat."

Perhaps some of us have already read this beautiful poem in _Scattered Seed_, but I will copy it for others who may not know it.

"GOD IS LOVE.

"All the earth, about us,
All the world above,
Tell the old sweet story,
Whisper, 'God is Love.'
Every wayside blossom
Lifts its little voice,
Every bright-eyed daisy
Bids our heart rejoice.

"Surging, seething torrent,
Bubbling, sparkling spring,
Hum of insect nature,
Birds upon the wing,
Evening's flush of beauty,
Morning's streaks of light,
Noonday's radiant glory,
All in praise unite.

"See His kind provision
Waving in the grain,
Shining in the sunbeams,
Falling in the rain;
Parching days of summer,
Cool the dewy fall,
Hoary frost of winter,
Sheltering snow o'er all.

"Swift o'er trackless region
Runs the lurid flash,
Sounds from hill to moorland,
Deep resounding crash,
Towering peak and cranny,
Eagles' dizzy height,
Dignity and splendour,
All reveal His might.

"Nature's varied voices
Chant the sweet refrain,
Echo o'er the mountain,
Linger on the plain,
Thunder in the ocean,
Whisper in the shell,
Murmur in the breezes,
Sighing in the dell.

"Shall our lips be silent?
Shall our lives be still?
Tune our hearts, O Father,
To perform Thy will;
Fill our souls with rapture,
Fill our hearts with praise,
Give us grace to follow
Gladly all our days."

M. A. E.

THE SIXTH DAY

THE CROWN OF GOD'S CREATION.

"_The Spirit of God hath made me, and the breath of the Almighty hath given me life._"--JOB xxxiii. 4.

"_In Him we live, and move, and have our being ... for we are also His offspring._"--ACTS xvii. 28.

"_I will praise Thee: for I am fearfully and wonderfully made._"--PSALM cxxxix. 14.

"_Ye are bought with a price: therefore glorify God in your body._"--1 COR. vi. 20.

Before we speak of the last work of God upon the last of those wonderful days of which we are told in the first chapter of the Bible, let us read the verses about it, from the twenty-sixth to the end of that chapter, and to the tenth verse of the next. And then let us read the eighth Psalm, unless indeed you can repeat it, as my little scholars once could--and I hope they have not forgotten it now.

I think the first thing we noticed as we read was, that after the verses which speak of the beasts and creeping things which God made on the SIXTH DAY, there is, as it were, a close to the history, and then a fresh beginning.

We read, "And God saw that it was good." There is a full stop there; and again we read--now for the eighth time--the three words, "And God said."

But this is not all; a very wonderful expression, which had not been used in connection with any part of the work of God, is employed to tell us of the creation of the man who was placed by God as the head of all that He had made, the one to whom He gave dominion, after He had made the earth, and brought it all into order.