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| The Baldwin Library

   
LIVES OF LABOUR;

OR,

INCIDENTS IN THE CAREER OF EMINENT NATURALISTS
AXD CELEBRATED TRAVELLERS.
SSE tories
eRe

 

THE MAUVAIS PAS

 
 

AUDUBON AFIELD.

DNs ON ee) a Cese

LONDON, EDINBURGH AND NEW YORK.
At GBR, SNOOTY O27 ee

7
< Wy (ey * \ Ree
so S oye s

3

 

LIVES OF LABOUR; |

OR,

Encidents ur the Career of Eminent Slaturalists and
Celebrated Wrabellers,

BY

GO. L. BRIGHTWELL,

AUTHOR OF “‘ ANNALS OF INDUSTRY AND GENIUS,”

£6 >

ABOVE RUBIES,” “TC.

en greeenpro neni ee nee weer ates AON rym een ene ASAE DSSETATS PRON EA” NM ANA At net NOY BSE CARR A TT TRA RI I, I

LONDON: |
T NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW;

EDINBURGH 3 AND NEW YORK,

i a a

1875.
Elontents.

LINNEUS NAMING THE FLOWERS, bee wee bee tee

SKETCH OF THE LIFE AND WANDERINGS OF LE VAILLANT,

SCENES IN THE LIFE OF AUDUBON,

VOYAGES OF FRANCOIS PERON, THE ZOOLOGIST,

BAYARD TAYLOR IN THE “‘ NORTHERN LAND,”

ADANSON’S EXPERIENCE AMONG THE NEGROES,

LABOURS OF PIERRE LYONNET, THE ENTOMOLOGIST,

INCIDENTS IN THE LIVES OF LATREILLE AND D’ISJOUVIL, ...

INCIDENTS IN THE LIFE OF SONNINI,

A SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF JOHN SWAMMERDAM, ...

ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT,

AN ACCOUNT OF JOSEPH DOMBEY, THE BOTANIST,

AN INCIDENT IN THE LIFE OF DUFRESNOY,

ADVENTURES OF A MISSIONARY NATURALIST IN THE NICOBAR
ISLANDS, vee bee ve ve ee

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF JOHN SIBTHORP, bee wes

PAGES FROM THE ABBE DOMENECH’S DIARY, bes ee

CAPTAIN MAYNE REID AND THE QUICKSAND,

PERILOUS ADVENTURE OF BISHOP STANLEY IN AN ALPINE PASS,

VISIT OF M. HUC TO THE LAMASERY OF KOUNBOUM, ves

103
Lil
126
139
157
173

177
192
201
215
225
241
 

dainnenus Maming the Hlowers,

 

“The Swedish sage admires, in yonder bowers,
His winged insects and his rosy flowers;
Calls from their savage haunts the woodland train
With sounding horn, and counts them on the plain:
So once, at Heaven’s command, the wanderers came
To Eden’s shade, and heard their various name.’’—CAMPBELL.

ior

T is pleasant to trace the steps of a genius
like Linneus going over completely new
ground in the wide field of natural his-
tory ; classing and naming birds, insects,

and flowers, oftentimes according toa system which

his own ingenuity and penetration had devised to
supply the deficiencies of former naturalists. An
active examination of the minuter parts of the
object under his consideration frequently enabled
him to arrive at a juster conclusion as to the order
or genus to which it belonged than others who had
preceded him ; and sometimes, after having with
indefatigable industry ascertained these points, he
indulged himself in combining with his new dis-
covery associations of friendship or of historical or
classical allusion. After this fashion he honoured

 
LO NAMING TILE FLOWERS.

several of his patrons and pupils.* Thus the Celsra
was so called after Celsui, one of his carlicst benefac-
tors; and the Kalmia, now so well known in our
gardens, commemorated his friendship for Professor
Kalm, his pupil and fellow-labourer. In his “ Cri-
tica Botanica” he observes, concerning this habit of
the appropriation of celebrated names to the genera
of plants, that ‘a proper connection should be
observed between the habits and appearance of
the plant and the name from which it has its
and as an emblem of himself he

I

derivations ;’
chose the Linnea borealis, which he described as
“a little northern plant, flowering early, depressed,
abject, and long overlooked.” It was gathered by
him at Lycksele, May 29, 1732. It is common in

* It may not be generally known that the botanical name for
the genus of plants which includes the Peruvian bark is Cinchona,
so called by Linneus in grateful remembrance of the lady to
whom we are indebted for the discovery of this precious febrifuge.
The Countess del Cinchon, the wife of a Spanish viceroy, being
attacked by fever during her residence in Peru, determined to try
the skill of the native herbalists, who cured her by the use of this
medicine, which, on her return to Spain in 1632, she hastened to
introduce to the notice of the Spanish physicians. Among others,
she mentioned it to Cardinal Lugo, who carried it to Rome in
1649. | Its efficacy was soon universally known throughout Eu-
rope; and the Jesuits, hastening to appropriate to themselves the
credit of the discovery, procured the transmission of large quan-
tities of the drug, which soon obtained the name of “The Jesuits’
Powder.” Sebastian Badus, physician to the Cardinal Lugo, has
related all these facts in an excellent treatise, which he published
at Geneva in 1661.
THE LINNAA BOREALIS. 1]

West Bothnia, and in almost all the great northern
forests ; but it may be easily overlooked, because
it grows only where the woods are thickest, and its
delicate twin-blossoms are almost hid among the
moss, and interwoven with ivy. Their smell resem-
bles that of the meadow-sweet, and is go strong
during the night as to discover the plant at a con-
siderable distance.

When he received his patent of nobility, Lin-
neeus adopted this floweret asa part of his crest—
the helmet which surmounts the arms of his family
being adorned with a sprig of Linnea. One of
those pupils who visited distant countries to add
to the collections of his great master, sent from
China a service of porcelain, manufactured pur-
posely for him, having a representation of thig
plant as its only decoration ; and the Cardinal de
Noailles erected a cenotaph in his garden to the
memory of the naturalist, and planted the Linnea
by its side as its most appropriate ornament. What
lover of flowers but will regard with interest this
little flower of the north, for the sake of him whose
name it bears ? *

For classical allusion and romantic feeling, a

more striking example cannot be given than the

* ‘The two-flowered Linnea was first discovered in this country
in a wood at Mearns, on the borders of Aberdeenshire, in 1795.
Tt has since been found in similar stations in the Highlands or
other borders.

a
12 A VEGETABLE PROTOTYPE.

naming of the Andromeda polifolia. In traversing
the uncultivated wilds of Lycksele-Lapland, whi-
ther, while yet a young man, Linneus was sent by
the Royal Society of the University of Upsal on a
tour of scientific research, he found this plant in
great abundance, decorating the marshy grounds
with its delicate blossoms. It is a beautiful little
flower, somewhat resembling one of the heaths
(Erica Dabecia); the buds are of a blood-red
colour before they expand, but when full-blown
the corolla is of a flesh colour. In contemplating
the delicate blossoms of the chamce daphne, as it
was then called, the imaginative mind of the natu-
ralist was struck by a fancied resemblance in the
appearance and circumstances of this plant to the
story of Andromeda, as related by the ancient
poets. “A maiden of exquisite beauty, chained to
a rock amid the sea, and exposed to monsters and
venomous serpents. ‘This lovely little flower,” he
sald, “is her vegetable prototype. Scarcely any
painter could so happily imitate the beauty of a
fine female complexion, still less could any arti-
ficial colour upon the face bear any comparison
with this sweet bloom. I find it always fixed
upon some turfy hillock amid the swamps, and its
roots bathed by their waters. In these marshy and
solitary places, toads and venomous reptiles abound:
and just as in the case of Andromeda, Perseus
PERSEUS AND ANDROMEDA. 13

comes to deliver her from her dangers, by chasing
away her foes, so does the summer, like another
Perseus, arrive, and, drying up the waters that
inundate the plant, chase away all her aquatic
enemies ; and then she carries her head (the cap-
sule), which before had drooped pensively, erect,
and displays her beauties to the sun.” Pleased
with the idea, he chose for this flower—which
formed a new genus in the botanical system he
was then arranging—the name of Andromeda.

Linneus visited England in the year 1736. No-
thing has been preserved of his observations
respecting the natural history of this country; but
there is a tradition which has spread far and wide,
that when he for the first time beheld the bright
golden blossoms of the gorse or furze on the broad-
spreading commons near London, especially Put-
ney Heath, so great was his delight that he fell on
his knees in a rapture at the sight. He was always
an admirer of this plant, and vainly tried to pre-
serve it through a Swedish winter in his green-
house. Perhaps some of my readers may share
with me his preference for a flower whose sweet,
honey-like odour fills the air, imparting delight,
while its brilliant bloom entertains the eye, which
might otherwise perchance weary of the monotony
of those bleak and level places which are its chosen
habitat.
14 A PLEASING ANECDOTE.

It has been said that the poetical allusions and
the elegancies of style observable in the writings
of Linneus, have done as much to recommend the
study of botany, and to establish his own celebrity,
as his more serious labours. Be this as it may, it
is indisputable that to the influence exerted by this
great genius is owing much of the proficiency of
the Swedish nation in the study of natural history.
‘“In Sweden,” says Sir J. E. Smith, when recom-
mending natural science to the rising generation,
‘natural history 1s the study of the schools, by
which men rise to preferment;” and that most
entertaining of travellers, Dr Clarke, has borne
testimony to the zeal with which he found this
branch ef science pursued by men of various classes
in that country. He has related a pleasing anec-
dote in point, which will not, perhaps, be inappro-
priate here. Arrived at Tornea, at the northern
extremity of the Gulf of Bothnia, Dr Clarke sent
to the apothecary of the place for a few jars of the
conserved dwarf Arctic raspberry. He had observed
“this rare plant” in the woods, near the shore
where he landed, and found it bearing the first
ripe fruit he had seen upon it. The flavour of its
berries he thought finer even than that of the hant-
boy strawberry, and equal in size to those of our
common raspberry-trees ; but the “ plant so diminu-
tive that an entire tree, with all its branches,
AN EXTRAORDINARY YOUTH. 15

leaves, and fruit, was placed in a phial holding
about six ounces of alcohol.” The fruit is annually
collected and preserved, being used as a sauce with
meat and in soups ; and wishing to send some to his
friends in England, Dr Clarke purchased a few jars
on reaching the town of Tornea. They were
brought by a boy without shoes or stockings, who,
having executed his errand, was observed to cast a
longing eye towards some books of specimens of
plants which lay on the table ready for arrange-
ment. ‘To the surprise of the travellers, he named
every one of them as fast as they were shown him,
giving to each its appropriate Linnean appellation.
They found, on inquiry, that this extraordinary
youth was the son of a poor widow, who had placed
him an apprentice under this apothecary. His
master had himself a turn for natural history; —
nevertheless, he did not choose that his young
pupil should leave the pestle and mortar to run
after botanical specimens. “It interrupted,” he
said (and probably with sufficient reason), “the
business of the shop.” The consequence was, that
the lad had secretly carried on his studies, snatch-
ing every hour he could spare to ramble, barefooted,
in search of a new plant or insect, which he care-
fully concealed from his master, who at length, by
accident, discovered his boxes of insects, which he
unscrupulously appropriated to his own use, ex-
L6 ‘LITTLE PYPPON.”

hibiting them in his shop window as of his own
collecting! These facts interested Dr Clarke and
his companions so much in behalf of the poor little
Pyppon (for that was his name), that they showed
him much kindness, procuring him some hours of
relaxation from his toils, and giving him some
English needles for his insects, and a few similar
trifles, which appeared to him an invaluable trea-
sure, Not unfrequently during their short stay
they had recourse to him for what they required ;
and on one occasion, having told him that a rather
rare plant was said to grow in that neighbourhood,
but that they had failed to discover it, scarcely were
the words uttered when he ran off, fast as his legs
could carry him, and soon returned, bringing in his
hand two or three specimens of the plant.

Before they left the place, the kind-hearted
travellers resolved to give him a pleasure at part-
ing, and prevailed on the apothecary to allow him
to accompany them to the fair at Kiemi. The poor
child had never, during six years, been farther
from his master’s door than an occasional summer
scamper after his favourite studies ; and his delight
was unbounded, especially when he was shown the
well-selected herbarium of the clergyman at Kiemi.
But the hour of separation from his kind stranger
friends came all too soon, and “little Pyppon,”
shedding abundance of tears, bade them farewell,
AN INCLINATION FOR SCIENCE. 17

making this touching request at parting—“ If you
should remember me when you arrive in your own
country, send me Drosera longifolia ; I am told it
is a common plant in England.” This Drosera is
the sundew, that well-known ornament of our
mossy bogs, which grows on the borders of ponds
and rivulets in moorland districts. Its beauty
consists in the form and appearance of the leaves,
which proceed immediately from the root, and
spread over the surface of the ground, each plant
forming a little circular plot of green, cup-shaped
leaves, thickly fringed with hairs of a deep rose
colour. These hairs support small drops or globules
of a transparent dew, which continues even in the
hottest part of the day, and in the fullest exposure
to the sun.

To return to Linneus. It is evident that he
was never so entirely happy as when searching
into the secret and hidden properties and workings
of nature. Hence, we are told, he reckoned it
among the choicest favours vouchsafed him by
Providence that he had been “inspired with an
inclination for science so passionate” as to become
the source of highest delight to him. This diligent
and minute observation was continually adding to
his knowledge and imparting some fresh light in
the study he loved. It is interesting to see him
carefully noting the observations he had personally
18 INVISIBLE FLOWERS.

made, and gradually perfecting his theories and
systems. “ He led a very active and bustling life,”
says one who visited him at Upsala. “I never
saw him at leisure; even his walks had for their
object discoveries in natural history.” On one
occasion he had received the seed of a rare plant
which he was anxious to rear. He suceeded in his
object; the plant bore two flowers. Delighted with
them, he desired the gardener to take especial care
of them; and two days after, returning home late
in the evening, he eagerly went to the garden to
see how they were thriving; but they were not to
be found. The next night the same thing oc-
curred. In the morning the flowers reappeared,
fresh and beautiful as ever. The gardener sup-
posed them to be new ones, as he had not been
able to find them the two previous evenings. The
attention of Linneus was immediately caught, and
he visited for the third time at nightfall his fugi-
tive flowers. They were once more invisible; but
he found them at last, deeply wrapped up in and
entirely covered by the leaves. This discovery
stimulated his curiosity, and he visited his gardens
and hothouses in the night-time, lantern in hand,
desirous of observing minutely the condition of
the plants under the influence of darkness. He
found the greater part of the flowers contracted

and concealed, and the vegetable kingdom alinost
(352)
A VEGETABLE TIMEPIECE. 19

entirely in a dormant state. From these facts he
formed his theory of the sleep of plants, and
proved that it occurred at regular periods, like
that of animals. This discovery gave him the idea
of forming a sort of vegetable timepiece, in which
the hours of the day were marked by the opening
and closing of certain flowers; and in the same
manner he formed a rural calendar for the regula-
tion of the labours of husbandry. The tables in thig
“Calendarium Flore,” as it was designated, were
formed from observations made on the common
plants of Sweden, in the garden at Upsala, in 1755.
Mrs Hemans’ pretty lines on this subject may pro-
bably recur to the mind of the reader :—

‘Twas a lovely thought to mark the hours,
As they floated in light away,
By the opening and the folding flowers
That laugh in the summer’s day.
Yet is not life, in its real flight,
Mark’d thus—even thus—on earth,
By the closing of one hope’s delight
And another’s gentle birth?
Oh! let us live so that flower by flower,
Shutting in turn, may leave
A lingerer still for the sunset hour-—
A charm for the shaded eve.”

 
 

Sketch of the Lite and Wanderings of He Barllant,

‘cseoeeescumenaarvarsnonen ifr eraracanacmacerrnens temas

uy¥|OW tenaciously does memory retain her
| hold on the pleasures of our early days!
The scenes, the events, and the people
in whom we then took delight, are ever
after remembered with peculiar satisfaction. And
this is especially, perhaps, the case with reference
to the books which afforded us entertainment then;
there are never any pages so fresh and so life-like
to our feelings as those. My readers may probably
recall to mind many such favourites of their youth;
it is the case with myself. Among others, I still
retain an agreeable reminiscence of Le Vaillant’s
Travels, a book which, it has been well remarked,
excels in the graphic power and life of its descrip-
tions—which give them, indeed, all the charm of
romance. His accounts of birds are such as could
only be supplied by one with whom it was a pas-
sion to follow them into their most secluded
haunts, and watch all their actions; while his per-
sonal narrative is a sincere and faithful record of

 
LE VAILLANT’S BIRTH-PLACR. 21

his impressions of the things he saw. The author
delineates himself in his pages so unreservedly
and so unconsciously, in his eagerness, buoyancy,
enterprise, vanity, and warmth of affection, as
well as unbounded enthusiasm, that he makes you
his confidant and enlists your sympathies.

Like Audubon, Le Vaillant has prefaced hig
work by an autobiographical sketch of his early
days; and itis so entertaining and natural that the
reader will be pleased to have a considerable part
of it given in his own words.

He was born in 1753, at Paramaribo, in Dutch
Guiana, where his father, a rich merchant and
native of Metz, was French consul.

He thus describes the place of his birth :—“ That
part of Guiana under the government of the Dutch
West India Company is perhaps the least known
to naturalists, though it is, without dispute, of all
South America, the spot that offers the greatest
variety of curious productions. On the left shore,
three leagues from the sea, stands Paramaribo, the
capital of this vast colony, which is my native
country, the cradle of my infancy. Born of well-
educated parents, who delighted in collecting the
interesting and precious objects that enrich this
country, I enjoyed from my boyhood the contem-
plation of a valuable cabinet, of which I shall
hereafter have occasion to speak.
22 EARLY PLEASURES.

“From my earliest days my parents, who could
not live without me, and were often undertaking
tedious journeys to the farthest part of the colony,
took me with them. Thus my first steps were in
the desert, and I was almost bornasavage. When
reason began to dawn, my inclinations soon mani-
fested themselves, and my parents aided to their
utmost these first indications of curiosity. Under
such good preceptors, I daily enjoyed fresh pleasures
afforded by those natural objects to which all my
studies pointed.

‘Soon a desire of imitation, the favourite passion
of infancy, gave impetuosity, I might say impa-
tience, to my amusements. TIlattered by self-love,
I imagined I likewise ought to have a cabinet of
natural history ; and without loss of time declared
war against caterpillars, butterflies, scarabeoi, and,
in a word, all sorts of insects.

‘‘Thus every day I saw my collection of specimens
accumulate, which I valued beyond measure, as
they were all of my own procuring. So far it was
all enjoyment, and I had not yet felt the obstacles
that present themselves between enterprise and suc-
cess. In one of our excursions we had killed a mon-
key. It was a female, and carried a young one on
her back, which was not wounded. We took them
both up, and on our return to the plantation the
young one had not yet left the back of its mother,
wep Manele maven

Ber

me

 

coe! wnbe
ie GEN os i

 

LE VAILLANT AMONG THE BIRDS

rage B23
AN UNWORTHY PUPIL. 23

holding so fast that I was obliged to get the assist-
ance of a negro to separate them; which we had
no sooner effected than, with the swiftness of a
bird, he darted to a block, on which was a wig of
my father’s, and, clinging round it, appeared satis-
fied. I therefore let him remain there, feeding
him with goat’s milk. He continued in this situa-
tion for three weeks, when he abandoned his nurse,
and became, by his tricks and merry conceits, the
friend of the family.

‘“T had, without suspicion, placed the wolf in the
sheepfold ; for one morning as I entered my apart-
ment, the door of which I had imprudently left
open, I saw my unworthy pupil breakfasting on my
beloved collection. In my first transports of fury
I could have strangled him; but rage soon gave
place to pity, when I saw how dreadfully he was
punished for his gluttony, having, in cracking the
scarabeei, swallowed the pins on which they were
stuck. His torments made me forget his fault, and
I only thought of helping the wretched sufferer ;
but my tears, and all the art of the slaves, could
not save him from death. This accident threw me
back a good deal, but did not quite discourage me.
I now turned my thoughts in a different direction,
and wished to collect birds; but as the slaves did
not procure them to my liking, I armed myself
with a shooting-tube and an Indian bow, which,
24 A CHANGE OF COUNTRY.

after a little practice, I used with great skill, lying
in wait for whole days. My former taste now be-
came a passion which disturbed even my hours of
rest, and which daily grew stronger.”

In 1765 the family. of Le Vaillant left Surinam
to return to Europe. ‘In the joy of my heart,”
says our author, “I partook of all the pleasures
and projects of my parents during the voyage; a
curiosity natural to my age, added to my trans-
port. but this excitement did not render me in-
sensible of regret; I could not so soon become
ungrateful; my eyes were often cast back to the
country where I received my being, to the shores
which gradually lessened to my sight; and as I
approached the frozen climates of the north, a pro-
found melancholy overwhelmed me, preyed upon
my spirit, and dissipated the promised enjoyments
of the future.

‘Arrived in Hurope, all I beheld was new to
me; and I showed so much impatience, fatiguing
every one with questions, all around appearing to
me so extraordinary, that I myself occasioned gur-
prise; but my importunity did not always turn
the laugh against me, for I paid amply, in keen
remarks on America, the information I received
about Europe.

“After some stay in Holland, we proceeded to
Metz, where my favourite tastes had ample scope
AMONG THE BIRDS. 25

for gratification in the cabinet of M. de Becceur,
who possessed one of the finest collections of Euro-
pean birds I have seen. I had hitherto known no
better method of preserving the skins of birds than
by flattening them in large books: I now found
that by stuffing them I could make them retain
their natural forms.

“During a stay of two years in Germany, and
seven in Lorraine and Alsace, I made prodigious
havoc among the birds. I was also willing to be
acquainted with their manners and the distinction
of their various species, and have often passed
whole weeks in watching to procure myself a pair.
From long living among them, in fields, woods,
and their most concealed retreats, I learned readily
to distinguish the species as well as the sexes, and
constantly gathered more and more information in
this part of natural history, which, however, was
far from contenting me. I longed to act on a more
extended field, and only waited till occasion should
serve.”

What plan of education the parents of Le Vail-
Jant had adopted, or whether they designed him
for any profession, is not known. The only hint
preserved on this subject is an incidental observa-
tion in his Travels, that his father insisted upon his
acquiring a number of languages. Dutch he spoke
fluently—probably learnt in childhood; German
26 A LOVE OF SCIENCE.

and French it is said well, though his writings are
alleged by critics to want the idiomatic precision
of a native. In 1777 he went to Paris, where the
rich collections of birds, and the writings and con-
versation of naturalists, at first attracted and then
disappointed him. He was delighted with the
varied wealth of collections from all quarters of
the world which were opened to his inspection.
But, accustomed to pry into the habits and eco-
nomy of the living bird, the mere cataloguing and
classifying of skins and skeletons soon became
repulsive to him; and the inaccuracies of mere
closet speculators nourished a perhaps overweening
estimate of his own more living knowledge. This
feeling, his sportsman’s habits, the pleasant recol-
lections of his boyhood in the forests of Guiana, all
contributed to make him dwell with pleasure on
the project of ransacking some yet unexplored
regions of the earth, in order to search for their
feathered inhabitants. With this object he quitted
Paris, unknown to his friends, in July 1780. Like
Audubon, he exclaims—“ Neither the ties of love
nor friendship (and he was now a married man)
were able to shake my purpose. I communicated my
projects to none, but, inexorable and blind to every
obstacle, yielded to the passion that impelled me.”

He accordingly repaired to Amsterdam, where
he formed an intimate accuaintance with the celo-
PERSEVERANCE UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 27

brated Temminck, and, after five months spent in
preparations, embarked in December for the Cape
of Good Hope. Unhappily for Le Vaillant, war
had just broken out between England and Holland.
Ihe vessels at the Cape were ordered to Saldanha
Bay, to conceal them from English cruisers, and
he accompanied them. An English squadron dis-
covered their lurking-place, and the captain of the
ship on board which the travelling equipage of the
naturalist was embarked blew it up, to prevent its
falling into the enemy’s hands. By this misfortune
Le Vaillant saw himself reduced to the brink of
despair. Far from his adopted country, without
friends, without shelter, almost without hope; his
only resources were his gun, six ducats he had in
his pocket, and the clothes he wore. In this ex-
tremity he was received by a friendly colonist, and
treated most hospitably. Boers, a Dutch official,
advanced everything necessary to fit him out for
the expedition he proposed to make, and the Go-
vernment officers did all they could to promote his
enterprise.

During the three years he spent in the colony
he made two excursions. ‘The first was to the
westward, at no great distance from the coast, to
the Great I’ish River. He ascended one of the
branches of this stream to the frontier of the
Gouaquois and Caffres, into whose country he
28 A NIGHT SCENE.

penetrated, returning by a more northerly route to
Cape Town. His first book of Travels contains an
account of this expedition. It is full of lively
descriptions, pictures of his chases of the elephant
and rhinoceros, of his faithful Hottentots, and of
the various incidents of his hfe in the wilds.

As I have said, the simplicity and innocent
boyish enthusiasm of Le Vaillant impart an air of
romance to his pages. What, for example, can be
more amusing than the following picture of a night
scene in the wilds P—

‘Returning one morning to the camp, I per-
ceived a stranger on horseback advancing. It was
a Hottentot with letters for me sent on from the
Cape; they were the first I had received since my
departure. These letters were from my dearest
friend—my wife! JI cannot describe my impa-
tience on taking the packet from the messenger.
Hagerly my eyes glanced over the lines. All were
well and happy. I was beloved and regretted ;
aifection followed me though in a desert, filling
my heart with tender remembrances. ;

‘That night I was rather too generous in the
distribution of my tobacco, having given my people
enough to occasion intoxication ; this, however, I
was now contriving means to prevent. After
having drank my tea, I ordered a box to be brought
and placed before me, which, opening with an air
A ** MELODIOUS” INSTRUMENT. 99

of mystery, I drew out that noble and melodious
instrument a Jew’s harp! and beginning to play
a lively tune, the pipes of the Hottentots were
instantly laid aside, and every one employed in
gazing at me, with mouth half open, arms ex-
tended, and fingers stretched asunder. They might
have furnished an excellent idea to a painter who
wished to represent a group of figures struck by
the powers of enchantment. Their astonishment
was more than equalled by the pleasure they felt,
as they listened intently that they might not lose
a single sound.

‘When I ceased playing, I gave the harp to the
nearest Hottentot, but had some difficulty in teach-
ing him how to use it, which, having accomplished,
I sent him to his place, and not wishing to make
any difference among them, gave one to each.
some played tolerably, some ill, some horribly; in
truth, it was a discord that might have scared a
set of furies; even my oxen, frightened at such an
unusual noise, bellowed hideously; and in every
part of our camp there was a mixture of sounds
that exceeded description. At length, by a motion
of my hand, J made them understand I had some-
thing to say. In an instant every one was silent.
I then proposed that we should terminate our feast
by drinking a bumper of brandy each to the health
of our absent friends.
30 KEES AND THE BRANDY.

‘This was a night of revels. Kees, my favourite
monkey, was seated by my side—a place he never
failed to avail himself of in the evening. Indeed,
I had spoiled him, never eating or drinking any-
thing but he came in for his share; and if I
seemed inclined to forget him, he ever took care
to remind me, either by munching or giving mea
touch with his paw. He was equally fond of milk
and brandy; the latter I always gave him on a
plate, as I had remarked that, in drinking out of a
glass, his greediness and precipitation made him
draw as much up his nostrils as he took in at his
mouth, which occasioned him to cough and sneeze
for hours.

‘“ Kees, as I have already said, was seated by my
side, the plate before him ready for his share, while
his eyes impatiently followed the brandy bottle,
which the Hottentots served. With what eager-
ness did he wait his turn! Alas, the unfortunate
rogue that licked his lips in advance did not know
that he was going to taste that bewitching liquor
for the last time; not that I lost my friend Kees,
though in future I saved his portion of the brandy.
I had packed up my despatches, and was puttin 2 on
the last cover at the moment the bottle had finished
its round, and reached my monkey. I determined
for once to cheat him; but without any other in-
tention than to amuse myself with his surprise.
A LASTING LESSON. ol

The liquor had been just poured into the plate, and
he was preparing to seize it, when I added, unseen,
a piece of lighted paper; the brandy blazed imme-
diately. Kees screamed and chattered, running
away as fast as possible; it was in vain I called and
endeavoured to coax him, for, being too angry to be
easily pacified, he left us and went to his bed. The
night was far advanced, and, after receiving the
thanks of my people, all retired to rest. I must
add, that fear had so completely taken possession
of poor Kees that I could never succeed in making
him forget what had happened, nor could I again
prevail upon him to taste his formerly favourite
liquor. Sometimes my men would tease him by
showing him the brandy bottle, which was always
enough to make him chatter and grind his teeth.”

Of this animal Le Vaillant tells many an amus-
ing story. He was very familiar and much attached
to his master, who made him his taster; fruits,
seeds, or roots, which Kees rejected, being infallibly
unwholesome. His extreme vigilance rendered him
an invaluable safeguard both day and night; the
approach of danger roused him in an instant, and,
before the dogs suspected the enemy was at hand,
this faithful guardian, by his cries and frightened
gestures, gave due warning. le Vaillant says, “I
often took him shooting with me. What gambols!
what expressions of delight as he leaned upon and
32 DIGGING FOR ROOTS.

caressed me! During our journey he would amuse
himself with climbing the trees to search for gum,
which he was very fond of; sometimes he dis-
covered honey in the crevices of the rock, or in
hollow trees. At other times he would dig for
roots, and seemed particularly fond of a kind which,
unluckily for him, I also found extremely good and
refreshing, and persisted in partaking with him.
Kees was artful, and if he happened to find any of
this root when I was at a distance from him, in
order to prevent my coming in for my share, would
eat it up with the greatest eagerness, fixing at the
same time his eyes ardently on me, and seeming to
calculate, by the distance I was at, the time I should
be getting to him. I observed his haste was ever
in proportion to the danger he supposed he ran of
losing part of his prize, and in general he was too
quick for me.

‘He had a very ingenious method of coming at
these roots, which used to amuse me extremely.
He took the tuft of leaves between his teeth, then,
bearing upon his forepaws, forced back his head,
and generally drew out the root to which they ad-
hered. When this means failed, he again took hold
of it closer to the earth, and giving a sudden spring,
never failed to draw it up with him. In our walks,
when he found himself fatigued, he would mount
upon the back of one or other of my dogs, who
TILE DOG AND HIS RIDER. 33

usually had the complaisance to carry him, even
for hours together. But there was one among them
bigger and stronger than the rest, and who ought
rather to have offered his service on these occasions,
yet had a droll method of getting rid of his burden.
The moment he felt Kees upon his shoulders he
became immoveable, and suffered me to proceed
with the rest of the dogs without stirring from the
spot. Kees, rather obstinate on his part, would
usually maintain his seat till I had almost got out
of sight, when, fearful of being left behind, he was
constrained to alight, and then both monkey and
dog used to set off full speed to rejoin us; but I
observed the dog always let Kees keep ahead, tak-
ing care that he should not surprise him a second
time. He had acquired over the rest of my pack
an ascendency which was doubtless owing to the su-
periority of his instinct; for with animals, as among
men, it is frequently observable, that address sub-
dues strength.”

Not less pleasing is Le Vaillant’s account of his
favourite ox Ingland. ‘“ He was the oldest and
strongest beast I possessed; accordingly, he had
successfully encountered the fatigue of my first
journey, though during the whole route he had
constantly occupied the thill to my heaviest and
principal waggon. Distinguished by an instinct
superior to the other animals of his species, my
34 INGLAND THE OX.

people, when they unharnessed him, gave them-
selves no concern to prevent him from escaping ;
he wandered at will in the pasture, and was com-
mitted, if I may so express myself, to the guidance .
of his own understanding; there was no fear that
he would wander from the place. When it was
time to travel another stage it was unnecessary to
fetch him from the pasture and bring him to the
waggon, as was requisite for the rest ; three smacks
of the whip was our signal for march, and as goon
as he heard them he came to his post. He was
always the first to present himself to the traces, as
if he had been afraid to lose his priority in a place
which he had constantly been employed to occupy.

“Tf I went out for exercise, or to hunt, at my
return Ingland, as far as he could see me, quitted
his pasture, and ran towards me with a particular
sort of bellowing, expressive of his joy. He rubbed
his head against my body in different directions,
and caressed me after his manner. Frequently he
licked my hands, and I was constrained to stop long
.enough to receive his civilities, which sometimes
lasted for a quarter of an hour. At length, when
I had replied by my endearments and by a kiss, he
led the way to my tent, and walked quietly before me.

‘The evening before he died, Ingland lay down
near the shaft of his waggon, and it was in this

place he expired. I saw his last agonies, but was
(362)
THE GENTLE NARINA. 35

unable to render him the slightest assistance. Ah!
how frequently, when friendship has misled me,
when seducing appearances have allured my confi-
dence, have I thought of poor Ingland, and invo-
luntarily cast my eye upon the hand he had go
often heked !”

Le Vaillant, however, exceeded all his other
portraitures in his picture of the fair Narina. IJn-
deed, it has been said there is scarcely a more
delicate creature in poetry than his young Gonaquoi
girl. He was visited by a party of this horde,
among whom were several women. ‘ In the midst
of them I remarked,” he says, “a young girl about
sixteen, who showed less eagerness to partake of
the ornaments 1 bestowed on her companions, than
to consider my person. She examined me with
such marked attention, that I drew near to satisfy
her curiosity. Her figure was charming, her teeth
beautifully white, her height and shape elegant and
easy,and might have served as a model for the pencil
of Albano. In short, she was the youngest sister of
the graces, under the figure of a female Hottentot.

‘The force of beauty 1s universal ; ‘tis a sovereign
whose power is unlimited. I felt by the prodigality
of my presents that I paid some deference to its
power. The young savage and myself were soon
acquainted. I gave her a girdle, bracelets, and a

necklace of small white beads which appeared to
(352) 3
36 A CHARMING SAVAGE.

delight her. I then took a red handkerchief from
my neck, with which she bound her head ; in this
dress she was charming! I took pleasure in deco-
rating her ; which finished, she asked me for orna-
ments for her sister, who had remained at home.
Nothing could equal the pleasure I took in seeing
her, except it was in hearing her speak ; for I was so
charmed with her answers, that I fatigued her with
interrogations. She was fully employed with her
new decorations, examining her arms, feet, necklace,
and girdle, twenty times feeling her head, and ad-
justing her handkerchief, with which she appeared
much pleased. I set my glass before her; she
viewed herself very attentively, and even with
complacency, showing by her gestures how much
she was satisfied, not particularly with her person,
but her ornaments.

“My charming savage desired me to give her
my looking-glass. I consented. She made good
use of the empire her gentleness had acquired, to
ask for all that gave her pleasure, notwithstanding
I was obliged to deny her several things that were
particularly useful to me, and might have been
dangerous to her. My knee-buckles had tempted
her; the most sparkling gems were not so brilliant
as her expressive eyes. I should have been de-
lighted to have given them. How much did I
wish at that moment for the most miserable —
NO HAPPINESS WITHOUT AN ALLOY. 37

fastenings to supply this useless luxury! Un-
happily, they were the only pair I possessed. JI
made her comprehend that the buckles were abso-
lutely necessary to me, from which moment she
never named them. I found her name difficult to
pronounce, disagreeable to the ear, and inapplicable
to my ideas; 1 therefore renamed her Narina, which
in the Hottentot language signifies a flower, de-
siring her to retain this name for my sake. She
promised to keep it as long as she lived, in remem-
brance of me, and in testimony of her love—a sen-
timent that was no longer a stranger to her heart.
This was truly painted in her gentle, unadorned
language, which powerfully showed how strong the
first impressions of nature are, and that even in
the deserts of Africa there is no happiness without
an alloy. . . . As evening approached, our
fires were kindled, and I regaled my people with
tea and coffee. Narina liked tea, but the colour of
coffee disgusted her. I covered her eyes, there-
fore, with my hand, and got her to drink half a
dish. She thought it good, but still preferred tea,
drinking a great quantity, which much amazed me,
for, notwithstanding her assertion that she liked it,
she seemed to drink the tea in haste, in order to
reach the sugar at the bottom. After this frugal
meal, they returned to dancing till midnight, when
fatigue obliged them to retire to rest.”
38 A SECOND EXPLORATION.

This introductory visit was followed by subse-
quent ones: and the sprightly, vivacious manners
of “the gentle Narina” and her companions are
prettily depicted by our traveller, who seems to
have everywhere succeeded in conciliating the
goodwill of the natives. This is not surprising, for
he took the right means to attain this object, by
his uniform kindness and good treatment of them,
while he carefully avoided everything that might
awaken their suspicion, or excite their displeasure.

Returning to the Cape, Le Vaillant spent some
time in reposing from his fatigues, in arranging
his collections, and in making preparation for a
second exploration, which he commenced in April
1783. This time he advanced northward, and pro-
ceeded by the Orange River—how far is uncertain.
With a small number of devoted Hottentots, who
had been the companions of his former adventures,
he proceeded into unknown and unexplored re-
gions, and at length reached the Houswanas, or
Boshmen, whose name spread terror among their
neighbours. This second route was far more dan-
gerous than the earlier one, and he suffered much
from a violent attack of fever, which wag cured by
the treatment of a Namaquois doctor.

On his return to the Cape he contemplated a
voyage to Madagascar, but relinquished the idea,
and embarked for Europe, reaching Paris in Janu-
LE VAILLANT AND HIS WORKS. 39

ary 1780, His first care was to arrange his cabinet,
and prepare his journals for publication. He added
a numerous list of animals, insects, and, above all,
birds, to the then recognised species, and was the
first to make the giraffe known in Europe. Be-
fore this time there had been only imperfect
descriptions of it; Le Vaillant brought from
Airica the one which was placed in the royal col-
lection of Paris. in addition to his Travels, he
published the “ Natural History of the Birds of
Africa ;” which was followed by four other volumes
on Parrots, Birds of Paradise, Cotingas, and Calaos.
He had seen almost all the species he described in
their native haunts, and his portraits are from the
lite. Like so many men of distinction and of
science, Le Vaillant suffered under the terrible
scourge of the French Revolution. He was incar-
cerated, and narrowly escaped the guillotine; in
fact, he was only saved by the opportune death of
Robespierre. After his liberation, he retired to a
small property which he possessed at La Neve,
near Lauzun ; and there, except at brief intervals
when he was obliged to visit Paris to superintend
the publication of his works, he spent the remain-
ing thirty years of his life. It was not to be ex-
pected that works brought out upon so expensive
a scale should reimburse their author, still less that
they should become a source of profit. Le Vail-
40 HABITUAL CONTENTMENT.

lant’s zeal, however, was so uncalculating, that,
while his patrimony was annually diminishing, he
was still projecting publications which should, if
possible, exceed those he had actually produced.
At the conclusion of one of his volumes, he ex-
presses a wish that his sons would complete the
remaining portion. During the latter years of his
life his circumstances, it is said, were rather
straitened, which did not, however, affect his
fine flow of spirits, his passion for birds, or his
habitual contentment. On one occasion when Dr
Leach visited him at Paris, he found him lodged
in the upper étage of a house, when he jocosely ob-
served, “The longer I live, the higher I rise in the
world.” This memorable man died on the 22d
November 1824,
a tee 2 So ee Pyey A by
a = eso ERG I, Ae
ie re Pe wy te e - - ple
dM y ty (RS pa . ae Lg
; ‘ Spee Woe EEO
\ Sie ee ee
=e eee

=~. S&S
eae
Be (th ce

 

 

 

Scenes in the Wife of Audubon.

 

wv) VERY individual possessed of a sound
ba] heart listens with delight to the love-
notes of the woodland warblers. He never
casts a glance upon their lovely forms
without proposing to himself questions respect-
ing them; nor does he look on the trees which
they frequent, or the flowers over which they
glide, without admiring their grandeur, or de-
lighting in their sweet odours or their brilliant
tints.” These words are strikingly characteristic
of him who wrote them, as we shall see when we
have read the account given by himself of his own
early life. “I received,” says Mr Audubon, “life
and light in the New World. When I had yet
hardly learned to walk, and to articulate those first
words always so endearing to parents, the produc-
tions of nature that lay spread all around were con-
stantly pointed out to me. They soon became my
playmates; and before my ideas were sufficiently

 
49 THE POWER OF EARLY IMPRESSIONS.

formed to enable me to estimate the dufercnce be-
tween the azure tints of the sky and the emerald
hue of the bright foliage,-I felt that an intimacy
with them, not consisting of friendship merely,
but bordering on frenzy, must accompany my
steps through life; and now, more than ever, I am
persuaded of the power of those early impressions.
They laid such hold upon me that, when removed
from the woods, the prairies, and the brooks, or shut
up from the view of the wide Atlantic, I experienced
none of those pleasures most congenial to my mind.
None but aérial companions suited my fancy. No
roof seemed so secure to me as that formed of
the dense folhage under which the feathered tribes
were seen to resort, or the caves and fissures of the
massy rocks to which the dark-winged cormorant
and the curlew retired to rest, or to protect them-
selves from the fury of the tempest... . A vivid
pleasure shone on those days of my early youth,
attended with a calmness of feeling, that seldom
tailed to rivet my attention for hours, while I gazed
in ecstasy upon the pearly and shining eggs, ag they
lay embedded in the softest down, or among dried
leaves and twigs, or were exposed upon the burning
sand or weather-beaten rocks of our Atlantic shores.
I was taught to look upon them as flowers yet in
the bud. I watched their opening to see how
nature had provided each different species with
RUDE REPRESENTATIONS OF NATURE. 43

eyes, elther open at birth or closed for some time
after, to trace the slow progress of the young birds
toward perfection, or admire the celerity with
which some of them, while yet unfledged, removed
themselves from danger to security.”

As he grew up these predilections became yet
stronger, and he early commenced a, collection of
drawings, which at first were but the rude attempts
of an unpractised hand. He thus amusingly char-
acterises them: ‘‘ My pencil gave birth to a family
of cripples. So maimed were most of them, that
they resembled the mangled corpses on a field of
battle compared with the integrity of living men.
These difficulties and disappointments irritated me,
but never for a moment destroyed the desire of ob-
taining perfect representations of nature. The
worse my drawings were, the more beautiful did I
see the originals. To have been torn from the study
would have been as death to me. My time was
entirely occupied with it. I produced hundreds of
these rude sketches annually, and for a long time,
at my request, they made bonfires on the anniver-
saries of my birthday.”

Anxious to cultivate a talent which had so strik-
ingly evinced itself, the friends of young Audubon
procured him the best instruction, and he was early
sent to France, where, under the guidance of the
celebrated David, he became a skilful draughtsman.
AA AGREEABLE STUDIES.

“ Hyes and noses belonging to giants, and heads of
horses represented in ancient sculpture,” which
had been his models under this master, were imme
diately laid aside by the youthful naturalist when,
in his seventeenth year, he returned to America,
and with fresh ardour he resumed his researches in
the woods of his native land, and commenced a
collection of drawings which year by year accu-
mulated, and were at length published under the
title of ‘“‘The Birds of America.”

He has given a romantic picture of his subse-
quent career. It commences thus: “ In Pennsyl-
vania, a beautiful state, almost central on the line
of our Atlantic shores, my father, in his desire of
proving my friend through life, gave me what
Americans call a beautiful ‘ plantation,’ refreshed
during the summer-heats by the waters of the
Schuylkil river, and traversed by a creek named
Perkisming. Its fine woodlands, its extensive
fields, its hills, crowned with evergreens, offered
many subjects to my pencil. It was there that I
commenced my simple and agreeable studies, with
as little concern about the future as if the world
had been made for me. My rambles invariably
commenced at break of day; and to return wet
with dew, and bearing a feathered prize, was, and
ever will be, the highest enjoyment for which J]
have been fitted.”
A RULING PASSION, 4D

In process of time our enthusiast married, and
became a family man. He relates that for a long
period (of nearly twenty years) his life was a
succession of vicissitudes. He tried various branches
of commerce, but they all proved unprofitable—
doubtless, as he himself acknowledges, because his
mind was filled constantly with a passion for ram-
bling in search of those objects from which his
taste derived the highest gratification; and the
result was that he proceeded, in opposition to the
advice and remonstrances of his friends, to break
through all bonds, and give himself up wholly to
his favourite pursuit. Any one, he says, who had
then watched his course, would have pronounced
him callous to every sense of duty; and regardless
of the interests of his wife and children, he un-
dertook long and tedious journeys, ransacked the
woods, the lakes, the prairies, and the shores of the
Atlantic, and spent years away from his family; and
all this, as he distinctly states, simply to enjoy the
sight of nature, for at that time he had formed no
intention of communicating his observations to the
world.
An acquaintance accidentally formed with Prince
Lucien Bonaparte, the distinguished naturalist,
was the means of directing Mr Audubon’s thoughts
to the publication of his great work, and deter-
mined him, for that purpose, to carry his collection
46 A DISHEARTENING OCCURRENCE.

to Europe; but, before his preparations were com-
pleted, an unparalleled misfortune threatened to
destroy all his prospects and blight his hopes. The
occurrence is thus related by him: “ An accident
which happened to 200 of my original drawings
nearly put a stop to my researches in ornithology.
I shall relate it merely to show how far enthusiasm
—for by no other name can I call the persevering
zeal with which I laboured—may enable the ob-
server of nature to surmount the most dishearten-
ing obstacles. I left the village of Henderson,
in Kentucky, situated on the bank of the Ohio,
where I resided for several years, to proceed to
Philadelphia on business. I looked to all my
drawings before my departure, placed them care-
fully in a wooden box, and gave them in charge to
a relative, with injunctions to see that no injury
should happen to them. My absence was of several
months; and when I returned, after having enjoyed
the pleasures of home for a few days, I inquired
after my box, and what I was pleased to call my
treasure. ‘The box was produced and opened; but
—readers, feel for me—a pair of Norway rats had
taken possession of the whole, and had reared a
young family amongst the gnawed pieces of paper.
which, but a few months before, represented nearly
a thousand inhabitants of the air! The burning
heat which instantly rushed through my brain was
THE FRUITS OF ENERGY AND INDUSTRY. 47

too great to be endured, without affecting the whole
of my nervous system. I slept not for several
nights, and days passed like the days of oblivion,
until the animal powers, being recalled into action
through the strength of my constitution, I took
up my gun, my note-books, and my pencils, and
went gaily forth to the woods as if nothing had
happened. I felt pleased that I might now make
much better drawings than before; and ere a period
not exceeding three years had elapsed, I had my
portfolio filled again !”

It will be readily believed that such surprising
energy, Industry and zeal, were crowned with suc-
cess. All the world knows how admirably he has
depicted the objects he loved so well. This ‘‘ Or-
nithological Biography” is a series of exquisite
portraits of the feathered tribes, and its interest is
enhanced by numerous lively and graphic sketches
of American scenery and manners, which are inter-
spersed through the volumes. Some of these give
an occasional glimpse of the writer’s adventures
during his wanderings, and they partake not a
little of the romantic. For example, he gives us
this picture of |

Tue PRAIRIE.

“On my return from the Upper Mississippi, |
found myself obliged to cross one of the wide
48 CROSSING A PRAIRIE.

prairies which in that portion of the United States
vary the appearance of the country. The weather
was fine; all around me was fresh and blooming. My
knapsack, my gun, and my dog, were all I had for
baggage or for company. But, although well moc-
cassined, I moved slowly along, attracted by the
briliancy of the flowers and the gambols of the
fawns around their dams, to all appearance as
thoughtless of danger as I felt myself.

“My march was of long duration. I saw the sun
sinking beneath the horizon long before I could
perceive any appearance of woodland, and nothing
in the shape of man had I met that day. The
track which I followed was only an old Indian
trace, and as darkness overshadowed the prairie, I
felt some desire to reach at least a copse in which
I might lie down to rest. Shortly after, a firelight
attracted my eye. I moved towards it, full of con-
fidence that it proceeded from the camp of some
wandering Indians. I was mistaken. I discovered
by its glare that it was from the hearth of a small
log cabin, and that a tall figure passed and re-
passed between it and me, as if busily engaged in
household arrangements. I reached the spot, and,
presenting myself at the door, asked the tall ficure,
which proved to be a w oman, 1f I might take shel-
ter under her roof for the night, Ter yoieo was
gruff, and her attire negligently thrown about her.
SHELTTR FOR THE NIGHT. 49

She answered in the affirmative. I walked in, took
a wooden stool, and quietly seated myself beside
the fire. The next object I observed was a finely
formed young Indian, resting his head between his
hands, with his elbows on his knees. A long bow
rested against the log wall near him, while a
quantity of arrows and two or three racoon-skins
lay at his feet. He moved not; he apparently
breathed not. Accustomed to the habits of the
Indians, and knowing that they pay little attention
to the approach of civilised strangers, I addressed
him in French, a language not unfrequently par-
tially known to the people in that neighbourhood.
He raised his head, pointed to one of his eyes, and
gave me a significant glance with the other. His
face was covered with blood. The fact was, that
an hour before, as he was in the act of discharging
an. arrow at aracoon in the top of a tree, the arrow
had spht upon the cord, and sprung back with
such violence into his right eye as to destroy it
for ever.

“Feeling hungry, I inquired what sort of fare I
might expect. Such a thing asa bed was not to
be seen, but many large untanned bear and buffalo
hides lay piled in a corner. I drew a fine time-
piece from my breast, and told the woman that it
was late, and that I was fatigued. She had espied
the watch, the richness of which seemed to operate
5O A FRIENDLY INDIAN.

upon her feelings with electric quickness. She
told me that there was plenty of venison and
jerked buffalo meat, and that, on removing the
ashes, I should find a cake. I helped my dog to a
good supper of venison, and was not long in satis-
fying the demands of my own appetite.

“The Indian rose from his seat, as if in extreme
suffering. He passed and repassed me several
times, and once pinched me on the side so violently
that the pain nearly brought forth an exclamation
of anger. I looked at him; his eye met mine, but
his look was so forbidding that it struck a chill
into the more nervous part of my system. He
again seated himself, drew his butcher-knife from
its greasy scabbard, examined its edge as I would
do that of a razor suspected dull, replaced it, and
again taking his tomahawk from his back, filled
the pipe of it with tobacco, and sent me expressive
glances whenever our hostess chanced to have her
back towards us.

‘ Never until that moment had my senses been
awakened to the danger which I now suspected to
be about me. I returned glance for glance to my
companion, and rested well assured that, whatever
enemies I might have, he was not of the number.
Under the pretence of wishing to see how the wea-
ther was, I took up my gun and walked out of the
cabin. I shipped a ball into each barrel, scraped
A DANGEROUS TRIO. 51

the edges of my flints, renewed the primings, and
returning to the hut, gave a favourable account of
my observations. I took a few bear-skins, made a
pallet of them, and calling my faithful dog to my
side, lay down, with my gun close to my body, and
in a few minutes was to all appearance fast
asleep.

‘A short time had elapsed when some voices were
heard, and from the corner of my eyes I saw two
athletic youths making their entrance, bearing a
dead stag ona pole. They disposed of their bur-
den, and asking for whisky, helped themselves
freely to it. Observing me and the wounded In-
dian, they asked who I was, and why that rascal
(meaning the Indian, who, they knew, understood
not a word of English) was in the house. The
mother—for so she proved to be—bade them speak
less loudly, made mention of my watch, and took
them to a corner, where a conversation took place.
he last words reached me—‘“ That will soon settle
him! Boys, kill you; and then for the watch.”

“IT turned, cocked my gun-locks silently, and
tapped gently my faithful dog, who moved his tail
and fixed his eyes alternately on me and on the
trio in the corner. I lay ready to start up and
shoot the first who might attempt my life. The
moment was fast approaching, and that night might

have been my last in this world, had not Providence
(352) 4
52 A TIMELY ARRIVAL.

made preparations for my rescue. All was ready.
The murderous hag was advancing slowly, pro-
bably contemplating the best way of despatching
me, while her sons should be engaged with the
Indian. I was several times on the eve of rising
and shooting her on the spot; but she was not to
be punished thus. The door was suddenly opened,
and there entered two stout travellers, each with a
long rifle on his shoulder. I flew to myfeet,and mak-
ing them most heartily welcome, told them how well
it was for me that they should have arrived at that
moment. The tale was told in a minute. The
drunken sons were secured, and the woman, in
spite of her defence and vociferations, shared the
same fate. The Indian fairly danced with joy, and
gave us to understand that, as he could not sleep
for pain, he would watch over us. You may sup-
pose we slept much less than we talked. The two
strangers gave me an account of their once having
been themselves in a somewhat similar situation.
Day came, fair and rosy, and with it the punishb-
ment of our captives.

‘They were now quite sobered. Their feet were
unbound, but their arms were still securely tied.
We marched them into the woods off the road, and
having used them as Regulators* were wont to use

* Regulators. A sort of rural police, organised for the purpose of
preserving order on the frontiers, and invested with powers to in-
ANOTHER ADVENTURE. 53

such delinquents, we set fire to the cabin, gave the
skins and implements to the young Indian warrior,
and proceeded, well pleased, toward the settle-
ment.”

Mr Audubon concludes his narrative by saying
that, during upwards of twenty-five years’ wander-
ings through all parts of the country, this was the
only time his life was endangered from his fellow-
creatures. He could only account for this occur-
rence by supposing that the inhabitants of the
cabin were not Americans.

On another occasion our naturalist encountered
an adventure of by no means an agreeable kind,
though he seems to have made light of it, and even
to have turned it to good account. ‘Travelling one
day, on the shores of Upper Canada, with a friend,
he was robbed of his purse, and left at a distance of
1500 miles from home with just seven and a-half
dollars between them. After travelling two days,
and meeting with various adventures, the two com-
panions reached Meadville, by which time their
cash was reduced to one hundred and fifty cents.
No time was to be lost. They accordingly put their
baggage and themselves under the roof of a tavern-
keeper at the sign of the ‘‘ Traveller’s Rest,” and
soon after took a walk to survey the little village

flict adequate punishment on evil-doers. This is generally a
severe castigation of the guilty, and the destruction of his cabin.
54 LOOKING FOR “ HEADS.”

that was to be laid under contribution for their
further support. ‘Its appearance,” says Audubon,
‘was rather dull; but, thanks to God, I have never
despaired, while rambling thus, for the sole purpose
of admiring His grand and beautiful works. I had
opened the case that contained my drawings, and
putting my portfolio under my arm, and a few good
credentials in my pocket, walked up Main Street,
looking to the right and left,examining the different
heads which occurred, until I fixed my eyes ona
gentleman in a store, who looked as if he might
want a sketch. I begged him to allow me to sit
down. This granted,-I remained purposely silent,
until he very soon asked me what was ‘in that
portjolo. These three words sounded well, and
without waiting another instant, I opened it to his
view. This was a Hollander, who complimented
me much on the execution of the drawings of birds
and flowers in my portfolio. Showing him a sketch
of a friend, I asked him if he would like one in the
same style of himself. He not only answered in
the affirmative, but assured me that he would exert
himself in procuring as many more customers as
he could. I thanked him, and having fixed upon
the next morning for drawing the sketch, I re-
turned to the ‘ Traveller’s Rest, with the hope that
to-morrow might prove propitious. Supper was
ready, and as in America we have generally but
AN © ARTIST’S ROOM.” 55

one sort of table d’héte, we sat down, when, every
individual looking upon me as a missionary priest,
on account of my hair, which in those days flowed
loosely on my shoulders, 1 was asked to say grace,
which I did with a fervent spirit.

‘Daylight returned. I visited the groves and
woods around with my companion, returned, break-
fasted, and went to the store, where, notwithstand-
ing my ardent desire to begin my task, it was ten
oclock before the sitter was ready. But, reader,
allow me to describe the artist's room. See me
ascending a crazy flight of steps, from the back
part of a storeroom into a large garret, extending
over the store and counting room, and mark me
looking round to see how the light could be stopped
from obtruding on me through no less than four
windows facing each other at right angles. Then
follow me, scrutinising the corners, and finding in
one a cat nursing her young, among a heap of rags
intended for the paper-mill. ‘Two hogsheads filled
with oats, a parcel of Dutch toys carelessly thrown
on the floor, a large drum and a bassoon in another
part, fur caps hanging along the wall, and the
portable bed of the munerchant’s clerk swinging like
a hammock near the centre, together with some
rolls of sole leather, made up the picture. I saw
all this at a glance, and closing the extra windows
with blankets, I soon procured @ painter's laght.
56 WHAT INDUSTRY MAY DO.

“A young gentleman sat to try my skill. I
finished his phiz, which was approved of. The
merchant then took the chair, and I had the good
fortune to please him also. The room became
crowded with the gentry of the village. Some
laughed, while others expressed their wonder; but
my work went on notwithstanding the observations
that were made. My sitter invited me to spend
the evening with him, which I did, and joined him
in some music on the flute and violin. I returned
to my companion with great pleasure; and you
may judge how much that pleasure was increased
when I found that he also had made two sketches.

“The following day was spent much in the same
manner. I felt highly gratified that from under
my grey coat my talents had made their way, and
I was pleased to discover that industry and mode-
rate abilities prove at least as valuable as first-rate
talents without the former of these qualities. We
left Meadville on foot, having forwarded our bag-
gage by waggon. Our hearts were light, our
pockets replenished, and we walked in two days
to Pittsburgh, as happy as circumstances permitted
us to be.”

Audubon mentions with evident delight the re-
ception he met with in England. Everywhere he
experienced cordiality and ready patronage ; and
before long, artists, men of science, and professors,
“ OLD CHRISTOPHER.” 57

were among the list of his subscribers. He visited
Scotland, and felt delighted with the natural beau-
ties of that northern land, where he found not a
few of his warmest admirers and steadfast friends.

Lhe pages of Professor Wilson contain a pleasing
testimony to the favourable impression the great
naturalist produced among some of the choice spirits
of the Scottish capital.*

‘* We were sitting one night lately,” he says, “all
alone by ourselves, almost unconsciously eyeing
the embers, fire without flame, in the many-~
visioned grate, but at times aware of the symbols
and emblems there beautifully built up of the
on-goings of human life, when a knocking, not
loud but resolute, came to the front-door. At first
we supposed it might be some late home-going
knight-errant, from a feast of shells, in a mood
between ‘malice and true love,’ seeking to disquiet
the slumbers of old Christopher, in expectation of
seelng his nightcap popped out of the window,
simulating a scold upon the audacious sleep-breaker.
So we benevolently laid back our head on our easy
chair, and pursued our speculations on the state of
affairs in general. . . But the knocking would not
leave off; and, listening to its character, we felt
assured it came from the fist of a friend. So
we gathered up our slippered feet from the rug,

* Noctes Ambrose.
58 AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR.

lamp in hand, stalked along the lobbies, unchained
and unlocked the oak which our faithful night-
porter Somnus had sported—and, lo! a figure
muffied up in a cloak, and furred like a Ituss,
advanced familiarly into the hall, extended both
hands, bade God bless us, and pronounced, with
somewhat of a foreign accent, the name in which
we and the world rejoiced— Christopher North !’
We were not slow in returning the hug fraternal,
for who was it but the ‘American woodsman ?’—
even Audubon himself,—fresh from the F loridas,
and breathing of the pure air of far-off Labrador!
“ Three years and upwards had fled since we had
taken farewell of the illustrious ornithologist, on
the same spot, at the same hour; and there was
something ghost-like in such return of a dear friend
from a distant region almost as from the land of
spirits. . . . In less time than we have taken
to write it we two were sitting cheek by jowl, and
hand in hand, by that essential fire—avlile Wwe
showed by our looks that we both felt, now they
were over, that three years are but as one day !”
The rites of hospitality being fitly observed, the
friends scanned each other’s appearance, and “ Au-
dubon found an opportunity of telling us that he
had never seen us ina higher state of preservation;
and, in a low voice, whispered something about the
‘Eagle renewing his youth’ We acknowledged
QUITE A NOCTES. 59

the kindness by a remark on bold bright birds of
passage that find the seasons obedient to their will,
and wing their way through worlds, still rejoicing
in the perfect year. But too true friends were we
not to be sincere in all we seriously said; and
while Audubon confessed that he saw rather more
plainly than when we parted the crowfeet in the
corner of our eyes, we did not deny that we saw in
him an image of the Falco Leucocephalus ; for that,
looking on his ‘carum caput,’ it answered his own
description of that handsome and powerful bird—
viz., ‘The general colour of the plumage above is
dull hair-brown, the lower parts being deeply
brown, broadly margined with grayish white. But
here he corrected us, for ‘Surely, my dear friend,’
quoth he, ‘you must admit that I am a living
specimen of the adult bird, and you remember my
description of him in my first volume.’ And thus,
blending our gravities and our gaieties, we sat
facing each other. . . . Itwasquite a Noctes.
Audubon told us, by snatches, all his travels, his-
tory, and many an anecdote interspersed, of the
dwellers among the woods—birds, beasts, and man.”

Another lively picture is drawn of him by some
travellers, who, during a journey by canal route
from Philadelphia, chanced through good fortune
to have Audubon for thelr companion. . . .
“He is actually in this very cabin,” said one of
60 ‘© PRATHERED TO THE HEEL.”

the number ; “ there,” he added, pointing to a huge
pile of blankets and fur, which, stretched upon one
of the benches, looked like the substantial bale of
some trader. ‘“ What! ¢hat Mr Audubon!” ex-
claimed the travellers, whose names were at that
moment called out by the captain as entitled to the
first choice of berths. This privilege they now
gladly renounced in favour of Audubon. There-
upon the green ball stirred a little, half turned
upon its narrow resting-place, after awhile sat
erect, and showed that there was a man inside of it.
A patriarchal beard fell white and wavy down his
breast ; a pair of hawk-like eyes gleamed sharply
out from the frizzy shroud of cap and collar. With
a thrill of irrepressible interest the travellers ap-
proached. The moment they caught sight of that
fine expressive face, they knew it could be none but
he. Audubon it was, in this wilderness garb, hale
and alert, with sixty winters on his shoulders, and,
like one of his old eagles, ‘‘ feathered to the heel.”
Before long, he delighted them with relating
_ his exploits, discoveries, and experiences. Some-
what silent in general, his conversation was impul-
sive and fragmentary, and a ‘‘ mellow Gallic idiom”
marked his speech.

When on shore, he speedily outstripped his
younger companions in walking, while the clearness
and strength of his vision were truly amazing.
‘AN INDIAN’S EVES.” 6]

One fine morning, when passing through a particu-
larly lovely region, his keen eye, with an eager,
intent expression peculiarly its own, was gazing
over the scenery, when, suddenly, he pointed with
his finger to the fence of a field, about 200 yards
olf, exclaiming, ‘See, yonder is a fox-squirrel run-
ning along the top rail; it is not often I have seen
one in Pennsylvania.” As not another individual
in the group could perceive the creature at all, his
companions somewhat incredulously asked him if
he were sure that it was a fox-squirrel.

Audubon smiled, as, turning his eagle glance
upon them, he answered, ‘“‘ Ah! I have an Indian’s
eyes.”

The great ornithologist had the happiness to see
the accomplishment of his long pursued and deeply
cherished project. He completed the publication
of the fifth and last volume of his great work
during the year 1839. He was then in his sixty-
fourth year. Often had he (to use his own expres-
sion) longed to see the day on which his labours
should be brought to an end; and this cherished
desire being fulfilled, he looked up “with gratitude
to the Supreme Being, and felt that he was
happy.”

He lived to the age of seventy-six ; his death
taking place on the 27th January 1851.
   

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Povages of Francois Peron, the Zoologtst,

 

)JOME years ago, a missionary party dined
Sh} one day at our house. Among the guests
were two natives of the South Seas, who

 

had accompanied their teacher on a voy-
age to England, and who were then itinerating with
him through the provinces. The weather was
very cold, for it was early spring, and the poor
natives of those warm regions suffered from the
chills of our ungenial climate. During the dinner
I watched with curiosity the faces of these re-
formed savages, whose huge mouths and dazzling
teeth reminded me of the terrible fact that they
had been originally cannibals; and it was with some
alarm I saw them introduced by their guardian
to the drawing-room, and left alone with my
mother and myself till the gentlemen should haye
finished their after-dinner business. The first act
of the chief, who was evidently a gentleman hy
nature, was to wave his hand towards the fire.
REFORMED SAVAGES. 63

from which we had retreated to make him room.
He would by no means displace us, and we resumed
our seats. His companion, who was younger, was
plainly of an inferior grade. He appeared lively
and in health, while there was an aspect of suffer-
ing and reserve about the chief which interested
us more in him. How to amuse them? We
pointed to the snow, which was falling fast, and
inquired, “Have you seen snow before you came
to England P”

“Oh! yes,” said the young one, ‘at the Cape,
snow came—sunshine—puff !—all gone !”

We then produced a hamper containing a kitten,
and opening the lid, placed it on the hearth-rug,
when the animal emerged.

“Puss!” cried the lively savage.

“You have them in your country ?”

“OQ yes, madame.”

But the chief was uninterested, and we wanted
to see him stirred. At length I remembered
Peron’s “‘ Voyage aux ‘Terres Australes,” and has-
tening to fetch it from my father’s bookshelves,
laid it on the table, and opened it at the picture
of the young chieftain of New Holland, Nourou-
gal-dirri, “‘s'avangant pour combattre.” The mo-
ment he cast his eyes on this picture, the junior
savage uttered aloud cry in his own tongue, which
had the effect of bringing his companion in a
64 A STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND.

moment to his side, and the two began, in their
soft, liquid, rolling language, conversing with the
utmost vivacity, pointing with their fingers te
each of the plates, and showing, by the expression
of their countenances, that they felt, indeed, alive !

“Ah! you would like to return to the South
Sea Islands; is it not so?”

“Yes! yes!”

There was no mistake about it; they were pining
for their distant land, and for the sunny skies of
the south. Alas! the chief was not destined again
to behold them, for he died not many weeks after-
wards, “astranger in a strange land,” and without
even the solace of his fellow-countryman’s presence
in his last moments. It was not apprehended that
his end was at hand, and they were at a distance
from each other. The missionary’s wife alone was
present to soothe the dying pillow, and to point
the eye of the Christian South Sea Islander to the
heavenly home, where he is now, it is humbly
hoped, numbered with ‘‘the great multitude of
all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues,
who have washed their robes, and made them white
in the blood of the Lamb.”

At the time when this incident occurred, I was
not acquainted with the narrative of Peron’s expe-
dition, and though I had often admired the exqui-
sitely beautiful coloured figures of zoophytes in
AN INTELLIGENT PUPIL. G5

some of the plates of his work, knew not at what.
cost the originals had been procured. Tn the
slight sketch now about to be given of this most
enthusiastic zoologist, the reader will sce an ex-
ample of almost unequalled devotedness and zeal.

Francois Peron was born 22d August 1775, at
Perilly, a small town in the Bourbonnais. The
death of his father left him unprovided for, and
his relatives were desirous that he should be taught
some lucrative business. Already the boy had
shown intense love of books and study, and, dis-
consolate at the idea of being shut out from the
acquirement of information, he prevailed on his
mother to send him to the college of Cerilly, where
the principal, charmed with the intelligence of his
pupu, paid particular attention to his education,
and when his preliminary studies were finished
advised him to become an ecclesiastic, with which
intention he was placed under the care of the curé
of the town, who was to instruct him in philosophy
and theology.

Just at this time the Revolution broke out, and
young Peron, seduced by the exalted pictures of
patriotism he had read in ancient history, deter-
mined to take his share in the mighty conflict, and
to embrace the cause of Liberty. He accordingly
left his home at the close of 1792, and enrolled
himself in the battalion of L’Allier. He was but
66 AN ASSIDUOUS STUDENT.

seventeen when he took this ill-advised step.
Shortly after he was sent to the army of the Rhine,
and proceeded to Laudau, where he beheld war in
all its terrors. The siege of this place being raised,
he rejoined the army, which encountered the Prus-
sians at Weissenburg, and was also present at the
defeat of Kaiserslautern. In this affair Peron was
wounded and taken prisoner, being carried first to
Wesel and then to Magdeburg. ‘This season of
forced retirement was turned by the young enthu-
siast to good account. He had never ceased to
pursue hig studies at every moment of leisure, and
now read with avidity such books as he could pro-
cure, principally narratives of voyages and travels,
and history.

At the close of 1794 he was liberated from prison,
and discharged from the army on account of the
loss of an eye, occasioned by the wounds he had
received in battle.

The three following years saw him an assiduous
student at the Medical School of Paris, where he
especially devoted himself to zoology and com-
parative anatomy, in which his rapid progress
astonished his associates. There was every pros-
pect of his attaining eminence in this department
of science, when all his anticipations were suddenly
blighted, in consequence of an ardent attachment,
in which he was doomed to disappointment. The
AN EXPLORING EXPEDITION. 67

result was a settled resolve to quit the scene of his
mortification and distress, and to fly from his
native land.

Casting about for the means by which he might
be enabled to effect his purpose, he learned that
the Government was on the point of despatching
an expedition to explore the southern hemisphere,
With considerable difficulty, through the friendly
assistance of MM. Jussieu and Lacépéde, he ob-
tained an engagement in the service. The number
of savants was already completed, but at his earnest
representation of the importance of adding a medi-
cal naturalist to the staff this post was assigned
to him, and on the 19th October 1800 he sailed
with the expedition, which consisted of two frigates,
the Naturalist and the Geographé; Peron, with most
of the savants, being on board the latter vessel.
His biographer in the “ Naturalist’s Library” thus
pleasingly relates the incidents of the voyage :—
‘Though several campaigns had familiarised M.
Peron with privation, yet, on board ship, he found
himself more put about than he anticipated.
Having arrived after all the others were accom-
modated, he found only a pitiful corner left for
him ; however, in the midst of agitation and bustle,
he retained all his composure and self-possession,
and did not lose a moment. The very day he went

on board he commenced his meteorological obser-
(352) D .
68 A SINGULAR SIGIT.

vations, which he constantly repeated every six
hours, and which were never interrupted during
the whole course of the voyage. Shortly after
sailing, he made some important experiments re-
garding the temperature of the water of the ocean,
which demonstrated it was colder in proportion as
the depth increased. On reaching the equator,
the whole crew were greatly astonished by an
appearance which presented itself. One night,
when the heavens were very dark and cloudy, a
bright band, as of phosphorus, covered the water
at the horizon; presently the ocean seemed in a
flame, and sparks of fire appeared to rise from the
surface.”

At first the voyagers supposed this to be the
aurora borealis, which they had not seen; but, on
advancing, they discovered the luminosity was
produced by a countless multitude of small ani-
mals, which appeared like sparks of fire. ‘The
whole surface of the ocean,” says Peron, describing
this phenomenon, “ sparkles and shines everywhere
like a silver stuff, electrified in the dark. Here
the waves roll out in immense sheets of sulphur
and bitumen in flames; there, again, the sca re-
sembles a vast ocean of milk, the limits of which
are lost im the horizon, Brilliant stars by myriads
spring from the depths, of which our fireworks aro
out a feeble imitation. Masses of fire roll over the
COMPANION SAVANTS. 69

waves like so many red-hot balls, one of which we
observed apparently not less than twenty feet in
diameter. In some places columns of fire, eliciting
sparks, are thrown up from the bosom of the deep;
in others, clouds of light and phosphorus are seen
traversing the waves in the midst of darkness;
added to which are cones of light revolving round
their own axes, splendid garlands, incandescent
parallelograms, and serpentining illuminations.
Occasionally the ocean appears decorated with an
immense scarf of moveable and wavy light, the
ends of which exceed the limits of sight.” What
were all the marvels of the enchanted grotto
compared with these exquisite natural illumina-
tions exhibited on the mighty waves of the sea!
The impression which this wonderful phenomenon
made on our naturalist, and the peculiarities pre-
sented by the organisation of these zoophytes,
which, on examination, he found to assume suc-
cessively all the colours of the rainbow, determined
him to investigate this class of animals; and during
thewhole voyage he and M. Lesueur, one of his com.
panion savants with whom he formed a close friend-
ship, were ever watching at the ship’s side, that
they might collect all they could procure. Peron
was no great artist himself, but his friend drew,
under his direction, those varied and beautiful
animals. ‘The two laboured in concert; the one
70 CILARMING PORTRAITS.

painted, the other described. In their work they
had but one soul, and neither wished to exalt him-
self at the expense of the other.” At the end of
five months they reached the Isle of France, where
they completed their stores for the Antarctic seas;
and some of the naturalists, being dissatisfied with
the treatment they received andthe gencralarrange-
ments, declined to proceed; but Peron considered
himself bound by his engagements. Arrived on
the western shores of New Holland, the expedition
skirted along the coast, surveying many harbours,
and anchored for refreshment at the island of
Timor. It is chiefly to Peron’s stay in this place,
so little known to naturalists, that we are indebted
to his labours on the mollusca and zoophytes. The
sea is shallow, and the excessive heat seems to
multiply prodigiously these singular animals, and
to adorn them with the most brilliant hues.
Nothing can exceed the rapturous descriptions
given of them by our enthusiast. He waxes elo-
quent as he paints their beauties, and the reader
is disposed to share his admiration while he studies
his charming portraits. “What shall I say,” he
exclaims, “of these various species of zoophytes
which, by the singularity of their form, their extra-
ordinary organisation, the beauty of their hues, and
the variety of their habitudes, so richly merit the
attention of the enlightened part of the commu-
MINIATURE FLOTILLAS, ral

nity. Shall I speak, for example, of the vetelles,
which present the appearance of a small wherry
with its bottom upwards, on the back of which
rises a sort of crest, extremely thin, light, and
transparent, which is a large sail, serving the
animal to direct its movements, and to vary and
increase its velocity. Always keeping close to the
wind, this elegant azure boat advances in order,
tacks with rapidity, and changes its course accord-
ing to its pleasure or need, and rarely fails of at-
taining the prey it pursues. The elegance of the
form of this creature, the transparency of its sail,
the beautiful mantle of blue with which it is clad,
ali concur to render it one of the most pleasing of
the species; indeed, nothing can afford a more
charming picture than these animals, when, in
calm weather, they manceuvre by thousands on
the surface of the sea, resembling so many gay
ininiature flotillas.

“Tn the Beroes, nature seems to have exhausted
herself to produce the utmost grace and brilliancy
in the perfection of the figure, the richness of the
hues, and the varicty of the movements. Their
substance, more pellucid than the clearest crystal,
is generally of a beautiful rose, opal, or azure
colour, Their form is more or less spheroidic ;
eight or ten longitudinal ribs are disposed around
it, cach formed of a prodigious number of small
72, INDESCRIBABLE ANIMALS.

transversal leaves, extremely thin, and of astonish-
ing mobility. These constitute the essential organs
of motion of the animal. By the aid of these myriads
of little paddles it directs its course and executes
its manoeuvres. What is still more admirable in
this species, light being decomposed by its various
and rapid movements, its longitudinal ribs become
so many living prisms, and envelop the animal
like eight or ten rainbows, so brilliant and so undu-
lating that it is vain to attempt to describe its
beauty. What shall I say, too, of another kind,
which, resembling a beautiful wreath of crystal of
an azure hue, swims on the surface of the waves,
and lifts above them in succession its diaphanous
leaflets, in figure resembling those of ivy, while it
stretches around its exquisite rosy feelers? This,
more than the majority of animals of this class,
possesses the phosphorescent quality in an unusually
lively and splendid degree, and which, in the midst
of the darkness, gives it the similitude of a garland
of fireandlight. Shall I attempt to describe those
Tanthines, of a purple colour, which make their
way over the surface of the waves suspended by a
white bunch of airy bladders? or those numerous
legions of Salpa, of a rosy, azure, or an opal colour,
which form floats of thirty or forty leagues in
extent, and shine with splendour in the dark? oy
those Medusx, equally phosphorescent, which pre:
ATTRACTIVE PURSUITS. 3

sent so many singular forms—so many delicate
shades of colour? Besides these are the Pyro-
somes, shaped like an enormous finger of a glove,
which cover the sea with their innumerable hosts ;
and those charming Glauci, of an ultramarine blue,
with a silver band on the back, which resemble so
many pelagic lizards, with those Hyales, which,
protected only by a shell extremely thin, fragile,
light, diaphanous, and horny, yet delight in the
stormy waves of the Southern Ocean. One is
tempted to take these beautiful mollusca, on seeing
them display their purple fins, for so many turtle
in miniature, and, in fact, it is by that name they
are designated by sailors.”

In pursuit of these attractive objects, Peron
spent nearly the whole day on the shore, plunging
into the water in the midst of the surf, always at
the danger of his health, and sometimes of his
lite, and with the shadows of evening returning
laden with numerous specimens, of which his
friend sketched the most remarkable.

Nor did he confine himself to these researches.
He spent much time in visiting the interior of the
island and examining the aborigines. Though
ignorant of their language, he had so much tact
in catching the meaning of the natives, and in
expressing himself by lively gestures, that to a
gercat extent he was able to communicate with
74 A DISASTROUS EXPEDITION.

them; and he was equally successful with tho
savages of New Holland and Van Dicmen’s Land.

On leaving Timor, the expedition sailed for the
Bass Straits and the south coast of New Ifolland.
Here they suffered extremely; and when they
reached Port Jackson, their condition, from priva-
tion and disease, was such that only four of the
crew could perform duty; so that, had they been
detained a few days longer at sea, they must all
have perished.

After a sufficient period of rest at Port Jackson,
a second voyage, no less hazardous than the first,
was undertaken. The Geographé proceeded to
examine the islands of Bass Straits, and to explore
the coast of New Holland. During this expedition,
Peron especially displayed remarkable courage and
activity. Of the five zoologists who had been
appointed by Government, two having remained
at the Isle of France and two having died in the
course of the second voyage, on him alone devolved
the performance of the duty; and he proved himself
equal to all, regardless of the privations to which
he was exposed. Shortly after their departure
from Timor, the captain having refused the spirits
which were necessary for the preservation of the
mollusca that were collected, he appropriated the
whole of his personal allowance to this purpose,
and, what was still more remarkable, he communi-
INSPIRED BY ZEAL. 15

cated his enthusiasm to many of his comrades,
who followed his example and made the same
sacrifice. A touching entry in hig diary shows
that his zeal was equalled by others of the devoted
band. He had been passing a day upon an island,
and returned loaded with a rich harvest of zoolo-
gical specimens. “At sight of this numerous and
magnificent collection,” he writes, “ my unfortunate
colleague Maugé was unable to restrain his tears.
Notwithstanding his exhausted and consumptive
state, he resolved next day to go on shore himself
to seek new specimens; but alas! he listened but
to his zeal and courage—his dying frame was
unequal to the effort. Scarcely had he reached
the strand before he fainted, and was immediately
carried back on board in such a state of debility
that his life was for a while despaired of. This
was the last instance of his zeal: he went no more
on shore but to the grave.”

It was especially in the midst of such dangers
that Peron exhibited the energy of his character
and his devoted zeal in the pursuit of his object.
During storms he used to work as a common sailor,
and all the time would be observing with perfect
composure. No event ever diverted his attention
from his beloved pursuit. Having landed upon
King’s Island with several of his companions, a
sudden gale drove the ship to sea, and they saw
76 PERON’S RETURN TO FRANCE.

nothing of it for fifteen days. Peron did not for an
instant lose his self-possession, but paticntly prosc-
cuted his researches, and, during his stay on this
island, he, without shelter, and in despite of the
violence of the tempests, collected more than 180
species of mollusca and zoophytes, and studied,
besides, the history of those gigantic seals the
Proboscide, which assemble in thousands upon
these coasts.

At length, after an absence of three years and
a half, he returned to France in April 1804, and im-
mediately proceeded to Paris. He was there engaged
for several months in arranging his specimens and
preparing the catalogue, after which they were all
deposited in the Museum. The whole collection
was found on examination to contain more than
100,000 different animals, among which were many
new genera; and the Commission reported that the
number of new species was more than 2500, and
that Peron and Lesueur alone had made us ac-
quainted with more animals than the whole of the
travelling naturalists of modern times. In due
time the first volume of his “ Voyage aux Aus-
trales” appeared, and an opportunity was then
afforded of judging of his merits.

Peron did not live to complete the sccond
volume. His health was broken by prolonged
suffering and privation, and he sank speedily under
A MARTYR TO SCIENCE, T7

an attack of pulmonary disease, expiring on the
14th December 1810, being only in his thirty-fifth
year— another proof that science has its martyrs,
and that its surest victims are often its most
ardent and successful votaries.”

 
 

Hayard Caylor in the “ Morthern Land,”

aa

(vg| TEN a young man, Linneus travelled
VN] over the greater part of Lapland, skirting
the boundaries of Norway. During this
journey he mentions, as one of the most
surprising and admirable sights he had ever beheld,
the phenomenon called The Midnight Sun. “1
proceeded,” he says, “ with all haste, in order, if it
were possible, to reach the Alps of Lulean Lap-
land in time to see the sun above the horizon at
midnight, which is beheld there to the best advan-
tage. I reached those mountains shortly after
Midsummer-day, and on my first ascending those
wild Alps I felt asif I were ina new world. TIfere
were no forests to be seen, but mountains upon
mountains, larger and larger as I advanced, all
covered with snow. No roads, no tracts, nor any
sion of inhabitants, were visible. The dechning
sun never disappeared sufficiently to allow any
cooling shade; and by climbing to the more eleyated

 
A MARVELLOUS SPECTACLE, 79

parts of these lofty mountains, I could see it at
midnight above the horizon. This spectacle I
considered as not one of the least of nature’s mira-
cles, for what inhabitant of other countries would |
not wish to behold it? O Lord, how wonderful
are ‘hy works !”

Bayard Taylor has thus strikingly described
the same marvellous and beautiful spectacle : “ We
were in the narrow strait between the Island of
Magerée, the northern extremity of which forms
the North Cape and the mainland. Here, where
the scurvy carries off half the inhabitants—where
pastors coming from Southern Norway die within
a year—where no trees grow, no vegetables come
to maturity, and gales from every quarter of the
icy sea beat the last faint life out of nature, men
will still persist in living, in apparent defiance of
all natural laws. Yet they have at least an excuse
for it in the marvellous provision which Providence
has made for their food and fuel. The sea and
fords are alive with fish, which are not only a
means of existence but of profit to them, while
the wonderful Gulf-stream, which crosses 5000
miles of the Atlantic to die upon this Ultima Thule
in a last struggle with the Polar Sea, casts up the
spoils of tropical forests to feed their fires. Think
of Arctic fishers burning upon their hearths the
palms of Hayti, the mahogany of Honduras, and
80 TITE ROCK OF SVG@RIOLT.

the precious woods of the Amazon and the
Orinoco!

“On issuing from the strait we turned south-
ward into the great Porsanger Fjord, which
stretches nearly a hundred miles into the heart of
Lapland, dividing Western from Eastern Finmark.
lts shores are high monotonous hills, half covered
with snow, and barren of vegetation, except
patches of grass and moss. If once wooded, like
the hills of the Alten Fjord, the trees have long
since disappeared, and now nothing can be more
bleak and desolate. Running along the eastern
shore, we exchanged the dreadful monotony through
which we had been sailing for more rugged and
picturesque scenery. Before us rose a wall of
dark cliff, from five to six hundred feet in height,
gaping here and there with sharp clefts or
gashes, as if it had cracked in cooling, after the
primeval fires. As we approached the end
of the promontory which divides the Porsanger
from the Laxe Fjord, the rocks became more ab-
rupt and violently shattered. Huge masses, fallen
from the summit, lined the base of the precipice,
which was hollowed into cavernous arches, the
home of myriads of seagulls. The rock of Svcer-
holt, off the point, resembled a massive fortress in
ruins. Its walls of smooth masonry rested on three
enormous vaults, the picrs of which were but-
A “CLOUD” OF BIRDS. 81

tressed with slanting piles of rocky fragments.
The ramparts, crenelated in some places, had
mouldered away in others; and one fancied he
saw, in the rents and scars of the giant pile, the
marks of the shot and shell which had wrought its
ruin. Thousands of white gulls, gone to their
mighty roost, rested on every ledge and cornice of
the rock; but preparations were already made to
disturb their slumbers. The steamer’s cannon was
directed towards the largest vault, and discharged.
Lhe fortress shook with the crashing reverbera-
tion; then rose a wild, piercing, myriad-tongued
cry, which still rings in my ears. With the cry
came a rushing sound, as of a tempest among the
woods ; a white cloud burst out of the hollow arch-
way, like the smoke of an answering shot, and, in
the space of a second, the air was filled with birds
thicker than autumn leaves, and rang with one
universal clanging shriek. The whirring, rusthng,
and screaming, as the birds circled overhead, or
dropped lke thick scurries of snowflakes on the
water, was truly awful. There could not have
been less than 50,000 in the air at one time, while
as many more clung to the face of the rock, or
screamed from the depth of the vaults. It was
now eleven o'clock, and Sveerholt glowed in fiery
bronze lustre as we rounded it—the eddies of re-
turning birds gleaming golden in the nocturnal
82 THE ‘‘ MIDNIGUT SUN.”

sun, like drift of beech leaves in the October air.
Far to the north, the sun lay in a bed of saffron
light over the clear horizon of the Arctic Occan.
A few bars of dazzling orange cloud floated above
him, and still higher in the sky, where the saffron
melted through delicate rose colour into blue, hung
light wreaths of vapour, touched with pearly
opaline flushes of pink and golden grey. ‘The sea
was a web of pale slate colour, shot through and
through with threads of orange and saffron, from
the dance of a myriad shifting and twinkling
ripples. The air was filled and permeated with
the soft mysterious glow, and even the very azure
of the southern sky seemed to shine through a net
of golden gauze. The headlands of this deeply
indented coast—the capes of the Laxe and Por-
sanger Fjords, and of Mageroe—lay around us, in
different degrees of distances, but all with forcheads
touched with supernatural glory. Far to the north-
east was Nordkyn, the most northern point of the
mainland of Europe, gleaming rosily and faint in
the full beams of the sun; and just as our watches
denoted midnight, the North Cape appeared to the
westward—a long line of purple bluff, presenting
a vertical front of 900 feet in height to the Polar
pea, Midway between these two magnificent
headlands stood the midnight sun, shining on us
with subdued fires, and with the gorgeous colour
NEITHER SUNSET NOR SUNRISE. 83

ing of an hour for which we have no name, since
it is neither sunset nor sunrise, but the blended
loveliness of both, and shining at the same mo-
ment in the heat and splendour of noonday on the
Pacitic Isles.

his was the midnight sun as I had dreamed it—
as | had hoped to see it. Within fifteen minutes
after midnight there was a perceptible increase of
altitude, and in legs than half an hour the whole
sky had changed—the yellow brightening into
orange, and the saffron melting into the pale ver-
milion of dawn. - Yet it was neither the colours
nor the same character of light as we had had half
an hour before midnight. The difference was so
slight as scarcely to be described; but it was the
difference between evening and morning. The
faintest transfusion of one prevailing tint into
another had changed the whole expression of
heaven and earth, and so imperceptibly and mira-
culously that a new day was already present to
our consciousness. Our view of the wild cliffs
around, less than two hours before, belonged to
yesterday, though we had stood on deck, in full
sunshine, during all the intervening time. Let
those explain the phenomenon who can; but I
found my physical senses utterly at war with those
mental perceptions wherewith they should harmo-

nise. The eye saw hut one unending day; the
(352) 6
S4 “NOT TILE LEAST OF NATURE'S MIRACLES !”

mind notched the twenty-four hours on its calen-
dar as before. Well might Linneus exclaim, with
pious rapture, as he gazed upon this—‘“‘ not the
least of Nature’s miracles”’—‘“‘O Lord, how won-
derful are Thy works!” Surely it is no wonder
that this “ land of mysteries,” with all its severity
and gloom, its pictures of darkness and death,
should exert, as we are told it does, a strange
secret power of attraction, evoked by ‘the very
mystic scene itself, which the midnight sun illu-
mines, and around which the mountain ridges keep
watch, while in winter the northern lights flame
over the snow-clad earth.” It may well remind
the poor peasant that ‘“ God’s Spirit rests upon the
northern land” no less than on the southern, and
symbolise to Christian faith and hope that blessed
‘land of pure delight” where ‘the sun shall no
more go down,” for the Lord shall be unto them
can everiasting light.”

 
 

 

ReEASAlNIS naturalist was born at Aix, in Pro-
@} 154} vence, on the 7th April 1727. His father,
of Scotch extraction, was attached to the
service of M. de Vintimille, then Arch-
bishop of Aix, but on the removal of that ecclesi-
astic to Paris followed him thither, and at three
years of age the little Michel became an inhabitant

  

>
fen

    
  

of the French capital. His education was very
carefully attended to, and his natural ability well
rewarded the labours of his instructors. He was
very small of stature, and passed for much younger
than he actually was; and when he was seen
carrying away the prizes of the University, people
laughed at the boy, hidden behind a huge volume
of Pliny and Aristotle. (Such was the description
of books then constantly given as rewards.) It
ehanced on one of these occasions that Needham,
a naturalist famous for his microscopic discoveries,
delighted at the talent of this juvenile prodigy,
S6 A JUVENILE PRODIGY.

presented him with a microscope, and said, “ As
you have been hitherto such an adept in studying
the works of men, it is time you should now study
those of nature.” Probably these early instruc-
tions and successes influenced his subsequent
career. He says, at the commencement of lus
Travels :—‘‘ Having in my very early days felt a
particular liking to the study of philosophy and
natura: history, I found my inclinations averse
from the profession for which my parents designed
me, which was that of the Church; and therefore
I resigned a benefice, with which I had been
already provided, that I might be entirely at
liberty to pursue the study of natural philosophy.
The branch I first took up with was that of botany,
which I considered ag one of the most engaging
studies, not only from its considerable use in life,
but from its agreeable variety. The opportunity I
had of attending the lectures of MM. de Jussieu
at the King’s garden led me thither very often;
and the strong passion I felt for that science, to-
gether with my constant application, soon made me
known to those masters, especially M. Bernard de
Jussieu, who took notice of me, and by degrees
led me on to the study of every branch of natural
history. After having gone through a course of
instruction for upwards of six ycars, under the
direction of the most celebrated acadcinicians, I
A SELF-DENVING ENTERPRISE. 87

made known my intention of going abroad for fur-
ther improvement. I selected the equinoctial
parts of Africa, which had not been visited by any
naturalist, and consequently offered a vast field
from which to reap a plentiful harvest of observa-
tions. Well aware it was no small undertaking I
had in view, I was not deterred by any difficulties,
but declared my intention to my father, who in-
troduced me in the year 1748 to M. David, director
of the Hast India Company, to whom he was well
known. He procured me a place in the factory of
Senegal, and promised to promote my speedy de-
parture.”

Adanson has not mentioned the fact that it was
al his own expense solely, and by the sacrifice of
the greater part of his patrimony, that he was en-
abled to embark on his arduous and self-denying
enterprise. He was just twenty-one years of age
when he left his native shores, and during a period
of six years expatriated himself to encounter a
world of hardships and perus, solely for the desire
he felt to prosecute the studies of his choice.
“Tantus Amor.” On his return to France he
published the history of his voyage, which gives a
full and detailed account of his adventures and
researches during five years’ sojourn in those torrid
and insalubrious regions. He was chiefly em-
ployed in indefatigable enquirics and researches,
88 INVINCIBLE COURAGE.

collecting together immense treasures of natural
objects—arranging, preserving, describing, and
classifying them. Consulting rather his zeal in
the cause than his safety or strength, he subjected
himself to the severest trials, now walking over
the burning sands of the African deserts, exposed
to the scorching heat, or traversing rivers and tor-
rents upon the back of a negro, who was occasion-
ally up to his chin in water, or in defending
himself against tigers, wild boars, crocodiles, ser-
pents, and other savage animals, besides the many
noxious insects with which those deserts abound.
“Thad,” he says, “an amazing good state of health,
and this bore me up in the midst of so many perils
and toils, under which a great many would have
sunk. Neither the dangers I was exposed to from
wild beasts, nor the toils of coursing in the woods,
which are rendered inaccessible by thorns, nor the
sultry heats of the east wind that, obliged me every
instant to have recourse to the river waters in
order to quench my violent thirst—none of all
these inconveniences deterred me—nothing was
capable of cooling my courage.”

Some idea of the trials attendant upon his ex-
ploratory rambles may be formed when we learn
that his shoes grew tough like horn, scorched by
the burning sands ; then cracked, and at length fell
away to powder. ‘The very reflection of the heat
CROSSING A “ MARIGOT.” 89

of the sun pecled the skin off his face, and occa-
sioned a smarting which lasted for days together.
T'o these inconveniences were added those of the
quicksands, which were excessively fatiguing, as
the traveller sank up to the ankles, and with diffi-
culty waded along. “Then, for the first time,”
exclaimed Adanson, “TI perceived the use of that
thick skin with which nature has provided the
soles of the negroes’ feet, whereby they are secured
against hard substances, and have no need of shoes.
Yet I accustomed myself by degrees to this sort
of fatigue, for there ig nothing but what one
may compass with a good will,—and this was not
wanting.”

Here is his picture of crossing one of the marigolds
or rivulets of the country, which are sometimes
very dangerous: “ When I had advanced a few
steps towards the bed of the stream I entered,
though I had my clothes on, into the water up to
my waist; but I did not care to go farther, ag 1
might have met with some hole, which would have
embarrassed me greatly. I therefore sent my
negro to sound the bottom; and in the meantime
I got upon a tree, in order to avoid the serpents
and the water, which began to fatigue me. After
sounding for some time, he was of opinion he could
carry me over a particular spot, where the water
caine up only to his nostrils when he stood on tip-
90 SAFELY TIIROUGHE.

toe. The fellow was tall, being six fect some
inches. J mounted upon his shoulders with my
gun in my hand, a few birds, and a bundle of
plants. He was soon in the water up to his neck;
and J was not without some apprehension when |
saw myself descend gradually up to my waist ;
however, I resigned myself to his skilful guidance,
and I let him doas h> pleased. He waded through
the middle of the marigot with amazing resolution,
without being the least daunted, though he was
obliged to swallow three large gulps of water,
which for some time took away his breath. As
soon as I escaped this danger, I espied a plant of a
very extraordinary beauty floating on the water,
with soft silver leaves. That moment I forgot
every other object, and though my Benbara was
still up to his chin in water, I ventured to gather
the charming plant. Thus I escaped luckily out
of the marigot of Oua Soul, which at that time was
very nearly 120 fathoms broad—that is, about twice
the breadth of the Seine at Port-Royal—and I
overtook the vessel before noon.”

A pleasing night picture follows: “The negroes
of this neighbourhood are obliged to lie on very
high beds in order to escape from the mosquitoes,
of which there are great swarms, especially in this
month. These beds are from five to six fect
square, and consist of a double texture of sticks
A NIGHT PICTURE. 9]

laid close together and supported by posts, which
are raised eight or nine feet from the ground,
They mount this kind of platform by step-ladders.
At sunset the dreaded insects issue forth in swarms,
and then the negroes betake themselves to these
platforms, where they sup, and smoke and chat
for a great part of the night, after which they
sleep till day in the open air. I had never used
the precaution of taking a tent with me, and I lay
with them, and in their manner—that is, almost
naked, the great heat not permitting me to wear
any sort of garment. The mosquitoes were not
indeed so troublesome as under cover, but still
they sucked a great deal of blood, and every morn-
ing I had my face disfigured with pimples. This,
however, did not hinder me from passing my nights
very agreeably. Besides the amusement I received
from the fables, dialogues, and witty stories, with
which the negroes entertained each other accord-
ing to their custom, I was ravished with behold-
ing a sky ever blue and serene, and bespangled
with stars that shone forth with the brightest lustre.
Raised on this platform, as on a small observatory,
open on all sides, I could easily accompany those
luminaries with my eye in their revolution from
cast to west. Oftentimes, I did not lose sight of the
upper edge of the disk of the sun and of the larger
stars till they plunged under the horizon of the ocean.
992 ae VAG-VAGUES.

“The negroes also pointed out to me a consider-
able number of the stars that form the chief con-
stellations, besides most of the planets, wherewith
they were well acquainted. Nay, they went so
far as to distinguish the oscillations of the stars,
which began at that time to be visible to the eye.
It is amazing that such a rude and illiterate people
should reason so pertinently in regard to those
heavenly bodies, for there is no manner of doubt
that with proper instruments and a good will they
would become excellent astronomers, by reason
that they live in a climate that enjoys a clear sky
almost the year round.”

More annoying even than the stings of the mos-
quitoes were a species of white ant, called vag-
vague, abounding in the Island of Goree, where our
naturalist lodged some months in astraw hut. “TI
should have thought myself pretty well off,” says
he, “had these insects attacked only the reeds of
my habitation, but they pierced‘ through a trunk,
which stood on trestles a foot above the ground,
- and gnawed most of my books. Even my bed was
not spared; and though I took care every evening
to break down the galleries they constructed, yet
they were frequently erected again during the night
up to my bolster, and the vag-vagues got into the
bed, where, after cutting the linen and mattress,
they came to my flesh, and bit me most cruelly.
NO EVIL WITHOUT ITS ADVANTAGE. 93

Their size is hardly larger than that of our large
Kuropean ants, yet they are of such a consti-
tution that neither fresh nor salt water, nor vine-
gar, nor any other strong liquors, with which I
often covered the floor of my chamber, were able
to destroy them, so that every method I took to
extirpate the breed proved ineffectual.” No evil is
without a counterbalancing advantage. Thus, our
enthusiast found a consolation for all his ‘swellings
and acute pains” occasioned by the hostilities of the
vag-vagues, since, thanks to the wakefulness they
induced, he had opportunities for making a repeti-
tion of experiments which he frankly acknowledges
“might otherwise have been performed but very
seldom,”

“ My room,” he says, “ was full of pails of sea-
water, in which I constantly kept live fish, which
in the night-time emitted alight not unlike that of
phosphorus. The mugs full of shells, and even
the fish that lay dead on the table, gave the same
light. All these illuminations put together, and
reflected upon different parts of the room, made it
appear as if 1t were on fire; and I must own that
I was of that opinion the first time I saw the
strange phenomenon. The vag-vagues, by awaken-
ing me suddenly out of my sleep, renewed my
fright much oftener than I could have wished in
the beginning; but my apprehension gradually
94 - INTERESTING EXPERIMENTS.

ceased by seeing the thing often repeated, till I at
length received a pleasure from the extraordinary
sight. What was most engaging, each fish showed
itself plainly to the eye by the light emitted from
its body ; and the same effect was produced by the
shells and other sea bodies which I had with me ;
even the pails themselves looked like a burning
surface. This was not all; every day the sight
was new, because I had new fishes and new shells
to observe; now it was a pilchard, now a molebat ;
at one time a purple fish, at another a periwinkle,
a polypus, a crab, or a star-fish, that showed its
luminous rays in the dark; in short, I perfectly
distinguished the shape of all these different fishes
by rays of light which darted from every part of
their bodies ; and as I could place them in a thou-
sand different positions, I had in my power to give
an infinite variety to this beautiful illumination.

“When the vag-vagues actually compelled me to
quit this glittering mansion, and to look for relhet
abroad, the angry ocean presented me with the
same phenomenon on a large scale. The foaming
billow.’ seemed to metamorphose themselves into
mountains of fire, and exhibited to my view a most
amazing spectacle, more capable of exciting admi-
ration than fear, even in the minds of persons
exposed to their fury.”

Many more equally vivacious passages might be
AN IMPRACTICABLE IDEA. 95

given, full of natural feeling, and pleasing from
the bonkommie and simple earnestness of the
writer. M. Adanson’s subsequent career was very
characteristic of the man. He published, besides
his voyages, the “Natural History of Senegal,”
and a valuable work on “The Families of Plants,”
and would in all probability have done much
more by his publications in aid of natural science
had he not adopted an impracticable idea—that of
producing a general Encyclopedia, a gigantic com-
pendium of Universal Science. His arrangements
and propositions were regarded as chimerical by
his associate savants, and proved futile. He con-
tinued, however, incessantly engaged in amassing
materials for its execution, and he drained himself
of all his resources in its prosecution. Firmly
convinced that he should eventually accomplish
this chef deuvre, he needed no other occupation or
source of enjoyment. Had he listened to the voice
of ambition or worldly interest, he might have
speedily heaped to himself riches and honours,
Lhe English Government having, in 1760, taken
possession of Senegal, sought eagerly to obtain his
advice and instructions relative to the best methods
of cultivating the natural productions of that
region; and so highly were his scientific merits
appreciated, that the Emperor of Austria, the Em-
press Catherine of Russia, and the King of Spain,
96 A RUTIILESS MOB.

successively endeavoured to induce him to settle
within their realms. To all these flattering over-
tures he remained indifferent. His love for “ La
Belle France” was carried, according to his French
biographer, “jusqu’ a lexaltation,” and he would
serve no other country but his own.

The Revolution at length arrived, and Adanson
saw himself stripped of all he possessed. The loss
which he took most to heart was that of his garden,
in which, for many years, he had delighted to
carry on his experiments in the cultivation of
plants and vegetables. He had especially devoted
his care to the production of a great number of
varieties in the mulberry, and he mourned as he
beheld these treasures cut down by the hands of
the mob. In spite of the destitution to which he
was reduced, he retained his composure and con-
tinued his labours; on a reduced scale indeed, for
he had only a small, inconvenient, and unwhole-
some abode, and a little plot of ground for a
garden, which was of such narrow dimensions that
the amiable enthusiast was obliged to satisfy him-
self with the representatives, so to speak, of each
of his fameltes.

He would probably have remained long for-
gotten, had not the Institute, at the time of its
formation, invited him to join its ranks. Te re-
plied that it was not in his power to comply with
ADANSON’S DEATH. : 97

the Invitation, as he had not shoes. The Minister
of the Interior granted him a pension.

Adanson died in 1806, cherishing to the last
the hope of seeing his great work completed.
Surely from such an original must Walter Scott’s
gardener Abbot have been drawn. My readers
will recall the scene in the cottage of the old man
on the night of Queen Mary’s escape from Loch-
leven, and will remember his pettish reply to her
profters of remuneration :— May it please your
Grace, if your Grace’s servants have occupied my
house so that I could not call it my own; if they
have trodden down my flowers in the zeal of their
midnight comings and gvings, and destroyed the
hope of the fruit-season by bringing their war-
horses into my garden, I do but crave of your
Grace in requital, that you will choose your resi-
dence as far from me as possible. I am an old
man, who would willingly creep to my grave as
easily as I can, in peace, good will, and quiet
labour.”

 
 

Wabours of Pierre Lyornet, the Entomologrsi.

———_—_++____—

NLY think of an entomologist celebrated
for having devoted several years to the
investigation of a single insect! Surely
he deserves to be ranked among the en-

thusiasts of science. Pierre Lyonnet, ahke dis-

tinguished as a naturalist, an anatomist, and an
engraver, was born on the 21st July 1707, at

Maestricht. His family came originally from

Lorraine, having been driven from their native

country by religious persecution. Huis father, who

was pastor of the French Church at Keusden,
destined his son for the same sacred calling, and
educated him with that view. Having an extra-

 

ordinary aptitude for acquiring languages, he made
himself master, at an early age, of Latin, Greek,
Hebrew, French, Italian, Spanish, and English,
with all which he was almost equally conversant.
At the same time he studied the exact sciences
and attained considerable proficiency in drawing
wnd sculpture.
LYONNET’S FIRST PUBLICATION. 99

When he came of age to judge for himself, he
preferred the profession of the law to that of
divinity; and having graduated at Utrecht, and
practised as a barrister for some time at the Hague,
he obtained the appointment of perpetual secretary
and sworn translator to the States-General of the
United Provinces. The abundant leisure which
the duties of this office left upon his hands he
devoted to the study of natural history, and espe-
cially to that of insects. He formed a collection
of those which are found in the neighbourhood of
the Hague, of which he made descriptions and
coloured drawings. With the feelings of a true
Christian, Lyonnet delighted in these studies to
behold the wonders of creative skill and benevo-
lence, and his first publication was a translation
of Lesser’s “ Theology of Insects,” a work in which
the author's aim is to point out the proofs of the
Divine goodness and wisdom as seen in that class
of animals. He added numerous and valuable
notices to the original, and some drawings by him-
self. Shortly before this time, his friend Abraham
Trembley, the Genevese, had come to the Hague,
where he had made his famous discovery of the
fresh-water polypus, and its method of propagation
by budding, or self-division. He imparted these
observations to Lyonnet, who drew for him the

figures necessary to illustrate them, and the cele-
(352) ¢
100 THE ANATOMY OF A CATERPILLAR.

brated artist WVandcleer undertook to engrave
them ; but being preoccupied with numerous other
engagements, he delayed from time to time the
fulfilment of his promise. Impatient to seo go
important a work completed, Lyonnet determined
to try his skill, and having obtained from the artist
an hour’s lesson in engraving, he then produced, as
his first attempt, the eight last plates in that famous
treatise, which are as admirable for the delicacy as
for the correctness of their execution. Encouraged
by his success, he now resolved to apply the talent
he had thus discovered himself to possess for the
illustration of his own scientific researches. He
hesitated for some time before he finally decided
to undertake the investigation of a subject which
he believed would exhaust any other patience than
his own. This was the anatomy of one single
caterpillar,—that which infects the wuilow-tree,
and Which is so common in Holland (Phalena
cossus of Linneeus).

In his hands this became a unique work ; and no
sooner did his book, describing and fliourine it,
make its appearance to the world, than it was jm-
mediately ranked among the most surprising che/s-
dcewvres of human industry. It wasa quarto volume
of more than 600 pages, adorned with 18 plates.
The author here exhibited all the parts of this
ininute animal with the utmost detail and exact.

‘ 1
/ &
A WONDERFUL BOOK. 101

ness. The number of the muscles alone, all de-
scribed and figured, is 4041; that of branchial
nerves and the trachial branches is infinitely
greater. The intestines are also shown with their
minutest details, and all given in engravings so
delicate, so admirably adapted to show the tissue
of the substances they represent, that the eye
seizes the whole with as much facility as though it
beheld the object itself through the medium of the
microscope. This book was pronounced by Bonnet,
a celebrated philosophic naturalist, to be one of
the most admirable demonstrations of the existence
of a First Cause; nor will it lose its value so long
as entomology shall be cultivated as a science, or
the comparative anatomist trace with delight the
footsteps of Divine wisdom in the gradually vary-
ing structures of animals,

So marvellous was the delicacy of some of his
experiments, that they at first appeared incredible,
and he was obliged, to satisfy the doubts of the
public, to exhibit them to skilful observers and
judges. It formed part of his design to iulustrate
in a similar manner the anatomy of the chrysalis
and perfect moth; but his labours were interrupted
by an accident which impaired his eyesight when
about sixty years of age.

In relation to the experiments he made while
engaged in preparing his “ Traité Anatomique de
102 LYONNETS KIND-iiKARTEDNESS.

la chenille du Saule,” Lyonnct exhibited such
tender sensibility as does him honour. In truth,
while we admire his dexterity and marvel at his
patience, we love him for his kindheartedness.
He takes pains to assure his readers that it was
necessary to sacrifice but a very small number of
these insects to effect his observations; and he adds,
that to prevent their suffering he put them into
spirits of wine before opening them. One cannot
but call to remembrance the exclamation of the
poct,

 

‘*T would not number in my list of friends,
Though graced with polished manners and fine sense,
Yet wanting sensibility, the man
That needlessly sets foot upon a worm.”

Little more is known of Lyonnet except that he

died in January 1789, at the advanced age of
eighty-two. Apparently he had never been married.

 
 

Encidents in the Wives of Catreille and NY LCsjouvt,

 

2] VERY lover of entomology doffs hig cap at
“1 the name of Latreille, to whom, with one
voice, the most competent judges have
done homage as “facilé princeps ento-
mologorum.” This “new and brilliant genius,”
whose indefatigable labours and singular talents
threw more light over the science he loved than
those of all his predecessors, was born at Brives, in
the department of Corréze, on the 29th November
1762. His parents were of an honourable family,
but he was early deprived by death of their care,
and apparently they left but very slender means of
subsistence for the education of their orphan child.
Indeed, he himself says that he seemed born to
misfortune and obscurity. How often in the his-
tory of men of genius do we meet with similar
examples. But Providence happily raised up for
him devoted friends and protectors ; and the attrac-

 
104 EARLY PATRONS.

tiveness of his manners when a child obtained for
him the regard and good offices of some gencrous
citizens of his native place. M. Laroche, a skilful
medical practitioner, and his family, took an affec-
tionate care of the young orphan; and after their
example, a merchant of Brives, named Malepcyre,
showed the warmest interest in him, lent him
books on natural history, and never ceased to
encourage and foster the rising taste which his
young friend already showed for the science he
was one day to illustrate. Perhaps, but for this
generous and Christian benevolence, France might
not have had the honour of possessing the first of
her entomologists.

Another of his early patrons was the Baron
(’Espignac, governor at the Invalides, at whose
request Latreille went to Paris when he was about
sixteen years of age. Soon afterwards he had the
misfortune to lose this friend, who had shown a
fatherly affection for him, by death; but the loss
was to some extent supplied by a sister of the
deceased, the Baroness de Puymarets, and by others
of the same family. Through their influence
Latreille was placed in the college of Cardinal Le-
moine, where he continued for a considerable time
prosecuting various branches of education. While
here he had the happiness to acquire the friendship
of the celebrated mincralogist Hatiy. In his twenty-
A PERILOUS SITUATION. 100

fourth year he retired to the country, and during
his stay there devoted himself entirely, and with
the utmost eagerness, to the study of insects.

The friends of Latreille were desirous that he
should enter the Church; his constitution was far
from robust, and it was hoped that the advantages
of a calin and peaceable profession would thus be
secured for him. As it proved, he was by this
very means rendered obnoxious to persecution and
suffering. As a member of the ecclesiastical body,
he was the object of suspicion to the revolutionary
party, and shared the fate of thousands of his
brethren. Among the multitudes condemned to
deportation, as it was called, he was included; he
was immediately thrown into prison, and after-
wards conveyed to one of the general depots of the
city of Bordeaux, there to await the execution of
his sentence.

An incident, trivial in itself, was the means of
saving him from the terrible fate of his fellow vic-
tims. The surgeon who visited the jail in which
Latreille was confined one day observed him care-
fully examining a small beetle which had found its
way into his place of confinement. Upon inquiry,
he was informed by the prisoner that the insect
was a very rare one; and he then expressed a wish
to have it for the purpose of presenting it to two
young naturalists of his acquaintance living at
106 A MARVELLOUS DELIVERANCE.

Bordeaux. The wish was readily complied with,
and the insect was conveyed to MM. Bory de St.
Vincent and Dargelas. Latreille’s eminence as an
entomologist was already known to these gentle-
men, and, being thus made acquainted with his
perilous situation, they immediately exerted them-
selves to obtain, if possible, his liberation, in which
they ultimately succeeded. One trembles to think
that a month later he must in all probability have
shared the fate of his fellow-prisoners, who were
shipped as convicts for Cayenne, and the vessel
which conveyed them foundered in the Bay of
Biscay, when every soul on board perished. The
deliverance was truly marvellous, if we refer to its
cause—the accidental discovery of an insect. It
has been said by one of our great divines,* that “a
fly with God’s message could choke a king;” and
a little insignificant beetle thus saved Latreille.
How obscure the means God often employs, and
how apparently inadequate the instruments He
uses, to effect His wondrous purposes! It is ag
though He said, in language not to be mistaken,
“| kill, and I make alive.”

After Latreille’s release he relinquished his views
of entering the Church, and devoted himself en-
tirely to his favourite study. In 1797 he was again
proscribed as an émigré; but the favour of his fel-

* Jeremy Taylor.
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LATREILLE AND THE BEETLE

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CONGENIAL EMPLOYMENT. 107

low-citizens, and the influence of hig friends, were
sufhcicnt to protect him. At a later period he
went to reside permanently at Paris, where he was
employed in the congenial task of arranging the
iusects in the Museum of Natural History. His
zeal and talent soon rendered him the successful
competitor and superior of those whom he called
his masters. His slender emoluments sufficed to
supply his modest wants; and he procured what
was necessary to extend the limits of the science
to which his labours were devoted by writing
for the booksellers various works on the different
branches of natural history, and also on general
science. All his writings displayed intelligence
and varied information; but those treating of
entomology always evinced his rapid progress in
this science, until at last his great work, the
Genera Crustaceorum and Insectorum placed him
in the first rank of the entomologists of Europe.
In this he first mentioned his little insect de-
liverer. Under the genus Necrobia he gives, as
an Ulustration, the species called Necrobia rufi-
colis; and at the end of its descriptive mark
adds, “an insect very dear to me, for, in those
(disastrous times when I*rance groaned tremulously
under the weight of endless calamities, by the kind
intervention of Bory de St Vincent and D’Argelas,
but principally the latter, this little animal was the
108 D ISJOUVIL IN PRISON.

miraculous cause of my liberty and safety.” La-
treille died on the 6th February 1832, and was
buried in Pére la Chaise, where a handsome monu-
ment is erected to his memory. It is in the form
of a truncated obelisk, surmounted by a bronze bust
of Latreille; and on one side is engraved a highly
magnified figure of the Necrobia ruficollis.

An escape scarcely less wonderful than that of
Latreille, and effected by similar means, is told of
M. Quatremer d’Isjouvil, a Frenchman by birth,
who was adjutant-general in Holland, and took an
active part on the side of the Dutch patriots when
they revolted against the Stadtholder. On the
arrival of the Prussian army under the Duke of
Brunswick, he was immediately taken, tried, and,
having been condemned to twenty-five years’ im-
prisonment, was incarcerated in a dungeon at
Utrecht, where he remained eight years.

Spiders, which are the constant, and frequently
the sole occupants of such places, were almost the
only living creatures which d’Isjouvil saw in his
prison. Partly to beguile the tedious monotony of
his life, and partly from a taste which he had im-
bibed for natural history, he began to seek employ-
ment, and eventually found amusement in w atching
the habits and operations of his tiny fellow-prison-
ers. He soon remarked that certain actions of the
spiders were intimately connected with approaching
SPIDERS AND THEIR HABITS. 109

changes in the weather. Further observations con-
firmed him in believing these creatures to be in the
highest degree sensitive of atmospheric influence,
and that their retirement and reappearance, their
weaving, and general habits, were so intimately con-
nected with variations in the weather, that he con-
sidered they were of all things best fitted to give
accurate intimation when severe seasons, or the
reverse, might be expected. In short, he pursued
these inquiries with so much industry and intelli-
gence, that, by remarking the habits of his spiders,
he was at length enabled to prognosticate the ap-
proach of stormy weather from ten to fourteen days
before it set in, which is proved by the following
facts, which ultimately led to his release.

When the troops of the French Republic over-
ran Holland in the winter of 1794, and kept rush-
ing forward over the ice, a sudden and unexpected
thaw, in the early part of the month of December,
threatened the destruction of the whole army unless
it were instantly withdrawn. The French generals
were thinking seriously of accepting a sum offered
by the Dutch and withdrawing their troops, when
dIsjouvil, who hoped that the success of the Re-
publican army might lead to his release, used every
exertion, and at length succeeded in getting a letter
conveyed to the French general in January 1795,
in which he pledged himself, from the peculiar
110 THE REWARD OF INGENUITY.

actions of his spiders, of whose movements he was
now enabled to judge with perfect accuracy, that
within fourteen days there would commence a most
severe frost, which would afford the army sufficient
time to complete and make sure of the conquest they
had commenced, before it should be followed by a
thaw. The commander of the forces believed his
prognostication, and persevered. The cold weather
which d’Isjouvil had foretold made its appearance
in twelve days, and with such intensity, that the
ice over the rivers and canals became capable of
bearing the heaviest artillery. On the 28th January
1795 the French army entered Utrecht in triumph,
and Quatremer d’Isjouvil, who had watched his
spiders to such good purpose, was, as the reward of
his intelligence and ingenuity, released from cap-
tivity.

 
 

zncidents in the Dike of Sonnini,

 

<j I’ is impossible to conceive of a life more
widely different than that of the travel-
«\| ling naturalist compared with the one led
= by his brother of the Cabinet. The latter
may pass his whole existence in busy and important
research without crossing his own threshold, while
the former is exploring savage countries and encoun-
tering various adventures, perils, and chances, for
the sake of rifling the north, south, east, and west,
of their treasures. For him there is no delight
equal to that of overcoming obstacles, if he can but
obtain what he seeks, and return laden with spoils
which, in his estimation, surpass the choicest gems
of India. It is evident that the two have distinct
avocations, and that the laborious investigation
and patient research requisite for minute exami-
nation and careful arrangement can but little
accord with the genius of the intrepid wanderer.
Among the number of those who have displayed

 
112 . A LOVE OF STUDY.

indefatigable zeal and courage in the cause of zoolo-
gical research is Sonnini (de Manoncourt), born at
Lunéville in the year 1751. He was descended of
an ancient family, his father being hereditary lord
of the fief of Manoncourt in Vermois, and coun-
cillor of Stanislaus, King of Poland. He was

educated at the University of Pont a Monsoon, a
celebrated Jesuit establishment, and made such
rapid progress in his studies that at the early age
of fifteen years and a half he took the degree of
doctor in philosophy. From his youth he mani-
fested great love for the study of natural history,
and attracted, in consequence, the attention of
Buffon and Nollet, who fostered these early bud-
dings of his genius, He had been designed by his
father to occupy an official situation, and went to
Strasburg to study law ; but the bent of his mind led
him soon to relinquish this pursuit. He longed to
travel; and as the best means to attain this desire,
he resolved to embrace the profession of arms. He
soon obtained a commission in the Marine Engi-
neer service, and was sent to Cayenne in 1772. He
had found his congenial sphere. “Nature” (to use
his own. words) ‘had in a manner marked out his
destination. With an ardent imagination, a love of
the sciences, a passion for discoveries, the sang-froid
of courage, and a constitution proof against any-
thing, he appeared to be intended for the most
PERILOUS BUSINESS. 113

arduous enterprises and for the execution of no
common projects.” He traversed, with eager steps,
the vast province of Guiana; dangers, privations,
and obstacles, seeming but to increase his energy.
He showed great enterprise and courage in ex-
ploring the country and dislodging from their
strongholds the savages by whom the colony was
molested; and succeeded, at great personal risk,
in making a passage by water from Cayenne to
the mountain La Gabrielle, the accomplishment of
which had been much desired by the colonists, but
abandoned by reason of the natural difficulties of
the route. This perilous business was eagerly under-
taken by Sonnini, who embarked in a frail canoe
with a company of Indians, and for ten days per-
sisted in navigating those savannahs through im-
mense low marshy plains, the haunts of the cayman
and myriads of noxious creatures. Difficult beyond
conception was the enterprise, and he suffered the
horrors of drought and famine in addition to the
polsonous exhalations of those infectious regions,
the attacks of the mosquitoes, and the murmurs of
his savage companions, who despaired of success
and were clamorous to return. Thus, when only
in his twenty-third year, the youthful Sonnini had
honourably enrolled his name in the annals of that
colony. On his return to France he was for this
service promoted to the rank of Heutenant. In
114 A CONGENIAL RETREAT.

1775, after a visit to the western coast of Africa,
he returned to Cayenne ; and during the two years
he remained there, occupied himself almost wholly
with researches into the natural history of that
region. The journal he kept was not published,
but is frequently referred to in the works of Buffon.
At length Sonnini’s health became impaired. He
suffered from an obstinate fever, which preyed
upon his spirits and strength, and compelled him
to repair to his native country. He found a con-
genial retreat at Montbard, where his great friend
Buffon gladly welcomed him, and for a short time
Sonnini was content to remain tranquil. He tells
us, “I spent nearly six months there; and that
time, which fled too rapidly, is certainly the period
of my life that has left behind it the most grateful
recollection. It is to my stay in that abode of the
sciences and of taste that I am indebted for the
little Lam worth. It was winter, and the severity
of the season kept away troublesome visitors. Day
succeeded day in delightful succession, while I was
aiding the great man in his labours and enjoying
his society—a society highly agrecable, and which
was never disturbed py the smallest inequality of
temper, and which I have never met with anywhere
else. Buffon was not one of those men of letters
whom Erasmus whimsically compared to the tapcs-
try of Flanders, with great figures, which, to pro-
JOINS A GOVERNMENT EXPEDITION. 115

dunce their effect, must be seen at a distance. His
conversation was equally agreeable and interesting,
and he blended with it an unaffected galety and
a good-humoured manner which put every one at
his ease. ‘T'o these social qualities he joined a
finely formed person. Like Plato, he was of the
tallest stature and most robust make. His broad
shoulders announced his strength; his forehead
was high and majestic; and he distinguished him-
self by the grace of his demeanour and the dignity
of his gestures.”

At the end of these happy six months, Sonnini
icarned that the Government was sending an
expedition to Africa under Baron de Tott, and
applied for permission to accompany it, which was
accorded,

Dis French biographer has observed, with jus-
tice, that Sonnini has “ painted himself in his
writings.” The reader shall have a glimpse of him
during his voyage to Alexandria, in which he re-
lates a pleasing incident with the poetry of feel-
ing:—“ The day after our departure from Malta
two small birds, one a little grey fauvette, the
other a little bergeronnette, came and settled upon
the rigging ; but being unable to support the
fatigue of so long a flight, they suffered themselves
to be taken by hand. As their diminutive bodies

would have afforded but a scanty dish, I had no
(352) 8
116 A STRANGE RESTING-PLACE.

great difficulty in obtaining possession of them. [|
carried them to the great cabin, and there, after
having lavished upon them caresses to which they
were rendered insensible by their state of uneasi-
ness, I restored them to liberty. Whether they
foresaw the storm which we encountered the fol-
lowing day, or whether, as no land was in sight,
they were afraid to trust themselves to the open
sea, I know not; but, after a few moments of un-
certain flight, they returned by the same window
whence I had let them fly. From that time they
never quitted the great cabin; and if, when
frightened by any noise, they went out of one of
the stern windows, or by a port, they were sure to
come back by another. Although of different
species, they lived in the greatest harmony. They
played upon those terrible machines which deal
death and destruction at a distance, and it was
upon a cannon even that was placed their little
provision of fresh water and crumbs of bread. It
served them also as a resting-place. Their confi-
dence was unbounded; they fluttered over a table
at which twenty persons, somewhat noisy, were
daily seated, and with their chirping and quick
motion enlivened our monotonous abode. On our
approach to the coast of the island of Candia, our
pretty and interesting navigators hastened to fly
away, and took leave of us by uttering a few shrill
A GIGANTIC PROJECT. 117

notes, the sweet accents of their joy, and, perhaps,
of their gratitude. Charming birds! you were
quitting a dull and dreary place, to which you gave
an air of life, and were going to animate lovely
groves, already embellished by all the favours of
nature. May you long continue there, a testimony
of your fortunate navigation, and a proof that, in
the midst of the horrors of tempests and of raging |
seas, and among men who seem to be rendered un-
susceptible of the tender affections of the heart, by
the necessity of braving continued danger, you
met with feeling and compassionate beings.”

Sonnini was desirous of extending his researches
throughout the length and breadth of Africa, from
the Gulf of Sidra to the Cape of Good Hope. His
ardent spirit prompted him to propose the sigantic
project he had formed; but it was not sanctioned
by those in authority, and he was limited to a nar-
rower field. His attention was to be peculiarly
devoted to the natural productions of the country,
and to extend to the manners and habits of the
people. The narrative of his travels in Egypt
gives a minute and animated picture of hig personal
adventures, and is full of valuable zoological obser-
vations.

One of the former was of a very reprehensible
character, and had nearly cost him dear. Having
been detained some time at Cairo, he amused him-
118 DANGEROUS PASTIME.

self in the company of a young fellow-countryiman
by learning to make what might be called finger-
work courtship. He soon mastered the art ot
signals, which in that country is an expressive
language; and having, between the narrow open-
ings of a wooden lattice, some sixty yards distant
from his room, caught sight of a female figure,
commenced making trial of his skill. His signals
were returned, and he continued his foolish pas-
time. But one evening, as his telegraph was in
full action, Sonnini was alarmed by the sudden
whizzing of a musket ball close to his head! asig-
nificant warning that such proceedings would not
be unpunished in Cairo.

Happily, the expedition was soon in readiness to
proceed, and preparations were made for departure.
Sonnini exchanged his Huropean dress for the cos-
tume of a Turk. ‘ My hair,” he exclaims, ‘“ was
sacrificed—|it is the only time our adventurous
traveller uses the word]|—an enormous turban, of
the kind worn by the Druses, enveloped with
several turns my shorn head, and protected it from
the burning heat of the sun; long and ample gar-
ments, which were partly kept together by a silk
sash, covered my body without pressing it, leaving
it at perfect liberty. There is no confinement in
the oriental habit, and after an European has worn
it some time, he finds the inconvenicnce of our
PLUNDERED BY ARABS. 119

tight and scanty clothes, and has some difficulty in
reconciling himself to them again.” Poor Sonnini
had sufficient reason to lament the loss of his hair
on one occasion. During his passage across a sandy
desert, he fell into the hands of a band of Bedouin
Arabs. They numbered nearly a hundred, while
his own little party consisted of six men only. It
was hopeless to resist, and the unhappy travellers
threw down their weapons. “ Immediately,” says
Sonnini, “they came upon us, and stripped us in
an instant. They left me only my under waist-
coat and my breeches; my companions were
stripped to the shirt. My turban having also been
taken, my head, bare and shaved, was exposed to
the burning heat of the sun, and pained me exces-
sively ; and although 1 covered it as well as I could
with both of my hands, this precaution afforded me
no relief. The booty was spread upon the sand,
and the whole party, not without noisy quarrels,
began to divide the spoil.

“The scene would have furnished a striking
subject for a picture. On one side might have
been represented the gang of robbers covered with
dust, their countenances parched as the sands,
quarrelling about the booty ; in the midst of them
my old servant, endeavouring, with great coolness,
to selze upon some articles of which we had been
plundered, and occasionally making snatches at
120 A CURIOUS DENOUEMENT.

them; in the foreground, the soldier, motionless
and confounded; the two Egyptians, stupidly
gazing at each other; myself in the background,
biting my nails, with looks of anger and indigna-
tion; and lastly, the draughtsman, weeping aloud,
and answering me with sobs, when I asked him if
he had met with any ill usage, ‘ No, sir; but what
can we now get to eat ?’” The denouement of this
affair was exceedingly curious. In comphance
with the spirited remonstrances of his conductor,
Hossein, Sonnini was released and his property
restored to him—the Bedouin chief demanding a
certificate to the effect that the stranger who had
fallen into his hands had been honourably treated,
and was satisfied with his conduct! By way of
conclusion, they ate together a meal of bread and
lentils; and after the repast, the Arab robbers ap-
proached the man they had so recently stripped
and plundered, ‘‘ with a degree of interest and cor-
diality, blaming the temerity which had induced
him to attempt a journey through the wilderness,
which was acknowledged to be the resort only of
thieves and banditti.”

As everybody knows, the Turks are great cat-
fanciers ; and in Hgypt a cat is even allowed ina
mosque. ‘hese animals are in all the houses of
the inhabitants, and are indulged and caressed by
the effeminate and indolent of the upper classes.
SONNINI AND HIS CAT. 12]

In fact, unless they were deified, as in the times of
the ancients, 1t would be impossible for them, our
zoologist thought, to be made more of. Sonnini
himself had a passion for cats. He always kept a
number of them, and in his works has spoken of
them in the highest terms of commendation. The
manners of the Egyptian cats confirmed him in his
idea that these animals are greatly influenced by
the treatment they receive. He compared the
barbarous usage of the miserable creatures in his
own country, and asked, who could wonder if they
had a savage look and wild manners, while these
Keyptian pets were so gentle and familiar. If the
reader share with me M. Sonnini’s partiality for
mousers, he will read with great pleasure what
follows :—‘‘ I was for a long time the possessor of
a very fine Angora cat. Her long and thick hair
covered her completely; her bushy tail formed a
brush, resembling a beautiful plume of feathers,
which she could at pleasure turn upon her back.
No spot, no shade tarnished the dazzling whiteness
of her coat. Her nose and the turn of her lps
were of a pale rose colour. In her round head
sparkled two large eyes—the one of a hght yellow,
and the other blue. The graceful movements and
attitudes of this charming cat were even surpassed
by her amiable disposition. Her aspect was mild,
and her gentleness truly interesting. Though
122 SONNINI AND IIIS CAT.

ever so much handled, she never exerted her claws
from their sheath. Sensible of caresses, she hcked
the hand that stroked her, or even that by which
she was teased. When travelling, she would he
quietly upon my knees, without the necessity of
being held; she made no noise, nor was she at all
troublesome while near me, or any other person
she was in the habit of seeing. When I was alone
she sat at my side, would sometimes interrupt me
with little affectionate caresses in the midst of my
labours or meditations, and she would also follow
me in my walks. In my absence she would seek
me, and at first cry after me with uneasiness; and
if I did not soon make my appearance, she would
leave my apartment, and attach herself to the per-
son in the house whom, after me, she most loved.
She knew my voice, and seemed to receive me
every time with increased satisfaction. Her step
was straight, her gait free, and her look ag mild as
her disposition ; In a word, under the brilliant and
furry skin of a cat, she possessed the good temper
of the most amiable dog.

“This animal was for many years my delight.
How expressively was her attachment painted in
her face! How often have her fond caresses di-
verted my mind from care, and consoled me in my
misfortunes! How often has an animal of a specics
accused of treachery formed, at my house, a strik-
A DIGRESSION, 123

ing contrast to a crowd of real traitors, who, under
the mask of friendship, beset the door of an honest
man, only the better to deceive him > to those
serpents I have fostered in my bosom, only to feel
their sting! They are yet alive; but, alas! my
beautiful and pleasant companion isno more. After
several days of suffering, during which I never left
her, her eyes, constantly fixed on me, closed, never
again to open—my tears flowed—they now flow.
Feeling minds will pardon this digression, caused
by grief and gratitude.”

The curiosity of the reader is probably excited
to know who were the enemies so vehemently de-
nounced by our impetuous naturalist? After re-
maining some time in Hgypt, and travelling subse-
quently in Greece and Asia Minor, he returned to
France in the autumn of 1786, after an absence of
rather more than three years, and hastened to pay
a visit to his father and the home of his boyhood.
He met with a very different reception from what
he had anticipated. An absence of several years
had been taken advantage of by the prodigality and
cupidity of his relatives, who endeavoured to de-
prive him of his patrimony. After a vexatious
series of litigation, Sonnini recovered a portion of
the estate at Manoncourt, where he built a manor-
house, and employed himself in the improvement
of agriculture, introducing several valuable exotic
124 A CHECKERED CAREER.

vegetables into his country.* At an early period
of the Revolution he was appointed one of the ad-
ministrators of the Department de la Mcurthe ;
but being deprived of this office by St Just, and
reduced to poverty on account of his noble birth,
he employed himself in arranging and publishing
the materials collected in his travels. He also un-
dertook to superintend a new edition of Butfon’s
“ Histoire Naturelle,’ to which he contributed
thirteen volumes, and one volume of Cetacea; and,
conjointly with Latreille, four volumes of heptiles.
From these valuable literary labours he was taken
by Fourcroy, then Director-General of Public In-
struction, who placed him at the head of the College
of Vienne, in the Department of the Isére. It had
formerly enjoyed a high reputation, and Sonnini
endeavoured, by enforcing order and discipline, to
restore it to its former estate. But he was frustrated
in all his efforts, and so thwarted and annoyed, that
at the end of two years he relinquished the post
which his real talents and the confidence of Govern-
ment had procured him. He then returned to his
literary labours, which he was compelled to prose-
cute for a livelihood.

* During the disastrous results of the tempest of July 18, 1788,
by which a large part of the agricultural districts of France was
laid waste, Sonnini published a valuable pamphlet, entitled, The

Vow of an Agriculturist.” He also produced, from time to time,
similar uscful and practical essays.
ITS CLOSE. 125

In 1810 he went to Moldavia, and, while travel-
ling in that country, caught a fever, under which
he languished some months, and expired at Paris
early in the year 1812.

 
 

A Shetch of the Pie of Fohn Swammerdam,

iT would be difficult to find a more devoted
Gi C1 enthusiast in the pursuit of natural history

ye R 4 | than Swammerdam. To the celebrated
+ Boerhaave we are indebted for an interest-
ing life of this distinguished anatomist and physio-
logist, who was among the first scientific men who
applied the microscope to the examination of the
minuter parts of the animal structure, and whose
consummate skill and indefatigable perseverance
effected many important discoveries.

He was the son of John James Swammerdam
and Barentje Corver, and was born at Amsterdam
on the 12th February 1687. Huis father obtained
his name from the place of his birth, a village on
the Rhine, and it continued to be apphed to his
descendants ever after. He followed the trade of
an apothecary, and was very fond of natural history,
and we are told was well skilled in several branches

 
 
A BOYISH PROPENSITY. 127

of it, during fifty years sparing neither pains nor
expense in procuring materials for a collection
which in course of time became very valuable—
“his house being full of animals, insects especially,
vegetables and fossils, though without the least
confusion, everything being disposed in its proper
place and order. Both citizens and strangers (con-
tinues Boerhaave) viewed this collection with great
admiration; and the greatest princes that passed
through Amsterdam visited it, as one of the things
best worth their attention in that famous city.”
The young Swammerdam was intended for the
Church, but, having no disposition for that calling,
induced his father to consent that he should be
brought up to the medical profession, and he re-
mained at home during his preparatory studies,
where he was frequently employed in cleaning,
arranging, and cataloguing the curiosities and
treasures we have spoken of. In this manner he
gradually acquired a deep-rooted love for the study
of natural history ; and very soon he began to make
a collection of his own, procuring specimens of
various kinds, ‘‘ catching some, buying or bartering
for others, and disposing them in certain classes,
and comparing them with the accounts given by
the best writers.” This boyish propensity “ grew
with his growth,” and though, in obedience to the
calls of duty, he attended to hig anatomical and
128 AN ASTOUNDING FACT.

medical studies, he gave every hour he could ap-
propriate to his favourite pursuit. “ Day and night
he employed himself in discovering, catching, and
examining the flying insects proper to those two
different times, not only in Holland, but in the
provinces of Guildres and of Utrecht. He ransacked,
with this view, the air, the land, and the water; ficlds,
meadows, pastures, corn fields, downs, wastes, sand-
hills; rivers, ponds, wells, lakes,seas, and their shores
and banks; trees, plants, ruins, caves, uninhabited
places, and even bog-houses, in search of eges,
worms, nymphs, and butterflies; in order to make
himself acquainted with the nests of insects, their
food, manner of living, disorders, changes or mu-
tations, and their several ways or methods of pro-
pagation; and indeed, while yet a very young
man, he had made more discoveries in regard to all
these particulars, and obtained more certainty, than
the known authors of all the preceding ages put
together. This, however incredible it may appear
to some, is notwithstanding matter of fact. Persons
properly qualified to judge of his success have
honoured it with the same testimony.” It must be
remembered that this remarkable statement is made
by Boerhaave, than whom it would be difficult to
find a more competent judge.

At the age of fourteen young Swammerdam went
to Leyden, to enjoy the advantages of its celebrated
ATTACKED BY AGURE. 129

aniversity. Here he highly distinguished himself
by his skill in anatomy, and the anxiety he dis-
played in the acquisition of every kind of know-
ledge relating to the physical sciences. He after-
wards visited Paris, with a view to prosecute hig
studies there, and formed some valuable friendships
with men of kindred taste for science. Returning
to Leyden, he took the degree of M.D. in 1667 .
and published his “ Thesis on Respiration.” At
this time he began to practise his invention for
injecting the arterial vessels with wax, variously
coloured; a method from which anatomy has de-
rived very important advantages. While thus most
diligently occupied, he was attacked with a quartan
ague, Which reduced him very low, and compelled
him to discontinue for a time all his engagements.
On his recovery he entirely relinquished the study
of the human anatomy, and devoted himself wholly
to the dissection of insects, in which he was singu-
larly dexterous. An opportunity now presented
itself, affording him the option of an advantageous
settlement. It is thus related by his biographer:
“In the year 1668 the Grand Duke of Tuscany,
being then in Holland with M. Thevénot in order
to see the curiosities of the country, came to view
those of Swammerdam, and surveyed them with
the greatest delight. On this occasion our natu-

ralist made some anatomical dissections of insects
{
130 ANATOMICAL DISSECTIONS.

in the presence of that prince, who was struck with
admiration at his great skill in managing them,
especially at his proving that the future butterfly
lay, with all its parts neatly folded up, in a cater-
pillar, by actually removing the integuments that
covered the former, and extricating and distinctly
exhibiting all its parts, however minute, with in-
credible ingenuity, and by means of instruments
of an inconceivable fineness. On this occasion the
duke offered the younger Swammerdam 12,000
florins for his share of the collection, on condition
of his removing them himself into Tuscany, and
going to live at the court of Florence; but Swam-
merdam (adds Boerhaave), who hated a court life
above all things, rejected his Highness’s proposal.
Besides, he could not put up with the least, re-
straint in religious matters, either in point of
speech or practice.”

Swammerdam must indeed have acted from purely
disinterested motives, for he was not in a situation
to prosecute his beloved studies without assistance.
‘Seeing him entirely bent on the work of collect-
ing insects from every part of the world, which he
spent his whole time in arranging, our author’s
futher,” says Boerhaave, “began to take offence.
Me had hitherto kept his son at home and supplied
all his expenses ; for though he was now thirty
years old, and consequently had spent the best
EXHAUSTED HEALTH. 131

years of life, he had not engaged in any busi-
ness that could serve to render him easy and inde-
pendent.” M. Swammerdam, senior, now seriously
remonstrated with him, and insisted on his apply-
ing with diligence to the duties of his profession as
a physician. It was, however, but too evident that
his health had become exhausted by his inces-
sant devotion to studies requiring the most intense
application, and it was judged expedient that he
should retire into the country for a time in order
to recruit his powers. Scarcely, however, was he
settled in his place of retirement than he resumed
his former pursuits, “ the torrent of his genius
that way being so much favoured by the solitari-
ness of the place, and the favourable opportunity of
examining insects in their very haunts and scenes
of propagation.”

In the years 1671 and 1672, Swammerdam’s
studies related principally to fishes and insects ;
and in the autumn of 1678, he completed his
examination of the structure of bees, and published
his treatise on those insects.

This work proved, we are told, “so fatiguing that
he never after recovered even the appearance of his
former health and vigour.” We shall not be sur-
prised at this melancholy result, when we learn
that he was “continually employed in making obser-

vations, and almost as constantly engaged by night
(252) 9 :
132 ILERCULEAN LABOURS.

in preparing drawings and suitable cxplanations.
When it was summer time, his daily labour began
at six in the morning, when the sun afforded him
light enough to survey such minute objects; and
from that hour till twelve, he continued without
interruption, all the while exposed in the open air
to the scorching heat of the sun, bareheaded, for
fear of interrupting the light, and his head thus
exposed to the full power of that luminary. ‘‘ This
fatigue he submitted to for a whole month together,
without any interruption, merely to examine, de-
scribe, and represent the intestines of bees, besides
many months more bestowed upon the other parts,
during which time he spent whole days in making
observations, as long as there was sufficient light ;
and whole nights in registering his observations, till
at last he brought his work to the wished-for per-
fection. The better to accomplish his vast un-
limited views, he often wished for a year of per-
petual light and heat to perfect his experiments,
with a polar night, to reap all the advantages
of them by proper drawings and descriptions. In
his essay on the Hemorobion, or Day-fly, he in-
genuously confesses that his ‘ Treatise on Bees’ was
formed amid a thousand doubts and self-reproaches;
for, on the one hand, his genius urged him to
examine the miracles of the great Creator in His
natural productions, whilst, on the other, the love
THEIR RESULT. 133

of that same all-perfect Being, deeply-rooted in hig
heart, struggled hard to persuade him that God
alone, and not His creatures, was worthy of his
researches, love, and attention.”

Who can wonder, after reading this truly sur-
prising account of Swammerdam’s labours, that his
health was irreparably injured, and that his mental
powers were enteebled? His temperament was
constitutionally of a melancholy cast, and he had
unhappily adopted the mystical views taught by
A. Bourignon. He conceived that it was his
duty to allow his mind no other occupation
than that of abstract devotion, and determined
that he would consecrate his thoughts entirely to
the love and adoration of the great Creator, to
whose honour alone, he publicly declared, he had
commenced and prosecuted his many and great
labours in the cultivation of natural history, from
which he now entirely desisted, in order to
devote all the little uncertain portion of life
that remained to the solemn exercises of de-
votion.

In order to procure himself a competent income,
he next resolved to sell his museum, which was
now become of great value, but could find no pur-
chaser. In this dilemma he applied to his former
friend M. Thevénot, hoping that, by his interven-
tion, the Grand Duke of Tuscany might be induced
134 A SAD CONDITION.

to become the possessor of such a treasure. But
that prince declined to accept his overtures unless
he would accompany the collection and settle at
the Court of Florence, where he promised to give
him a cordial reception, and make his life “ easy
and agreeable.” These terms were of course de-
clined, and Swammerdam remained entirely depen-
dent on his father’s liberality, who shortly after, on
occasion of his daughter’s marriage, relinquished
housekeeping, and went to reside with her.

His biographer feelingly deplores the sad con-
dition of the hapless naturalist, now left “ to shift
for himself ;” and it seems certain that he must
have been reduced to actual want had not his
father’s death, which aimost immediately super-
vened, afforded him the prospect of a competent
provision.

This event, however, was fraught with trouble,
for it occasioned a family contest, in which, for the
sake of peace and quietness, he relinquished his
due share of the property. His health and spirits
now rapidly sank, and he fell into a deep melan-
choly, doubtless occasioned by his painful maladies.
A severe attack of his former complaints—the
quartan ague—completely prostrated his remaining
strength and confined him to his chamber, where
he refused all the advice of his medical friends,
and at length took refuge from their importwnitics
ANOTHER MARTYR TO SCIENCE. 135

in an unbroken silence. Agonised with “ constant
and uninterrupted pains,” this excellent man—who
must undoubtedly be ranked among the numerous
Inartyrs to sclence—expired at the early age of
forty-four. Shortly before his decease, he earnestly
recommended that his treatise on Bees should be
published in Dutch as well as Latin, as displaying
the wisdom and power of God in so particular a
manner; and how much his pious soul was set
upon glorifying the mighty Creator, whose works
had afforded him such delight, is perceptible
throughout all the pages of this work. His MSS.
and plates he bequeathed to M. Thevénot; and
after passing through several hands, they were
purchased in 1727 by Boerhaave, who lost no time
in giving them to the world. They form the well-
known work entitled “ Swammerdam’s Book of Na-
ture, to which the illustrious editor has prefixed
the Memoir from which this sketch is made. He
has given, at the close of it, a curious and interest-
ing account of the instruments employed by Swam-
merdam to perfect his beautiful discoveries, which,
I am persuaded, will interest the reader. “ For
dissecting very minute subjects, he had a brass
table made on purpose, to which were fastened
two brass arms, moveable at pleasure to any part
of it; and the upper portions of these arms were
likewise so contrived as to be susceptible of a
136 SWAMMERDAM'S CHIEF SECRET.

very slow vertical motion, by which means the
operator could readily alter their height, as he
saw most convenient to his purpose. The office
of one of these arms was to hold the little
corpuscule, and that of the other to apply the
microscope. His microscopes were of various
sizes and curvatures—his microscopical glasses
being of various diameters and focusses, and,
from the least to the greatest, the best that
could be procured in regard to the exactness of
the workmanship and the transparency of the
substance.

His way was to begin his surveys with the
smallest magnifiers, and from thence to proceed by
degrees to the greatest; and by nature and use he
was so Incomparably dexterous in the inanagement
of them, that he made every observation subser-
vient to the next, and all tend to confirm each
other and complete the description. But the con-
structing of very fine scissors, and giving them an
extreme sharpness, seems to have been his chief
secret. ‘hese he made use of to cut very minute
objects, because they dissected them equably,
whereas knives and lancets, let them be ever go
fine and sharp, are apt to injure delicate substances.
His knives, lancets, and styles, were so very fine,
that he could not see to sharp them without the
aid of the microscope; but with them he could
DELICATE OPERATIONS. 137

dissect the intestines of bees with the same accu-
racy and distinctness that others do those of larger
animals. He was particularly dexterous in the
management of small tubes of glass, no thicker
than a bristle, drawn to a very fine point at one
end, but thicker at the other. These he made use
of when he wanted to exhibit and inflate the
smallest vessels discovered by the microscope, to
trace, distinguish, and separate their courses and
communications, or to inject them with very subtle.
coloured liquids.”

We may have some idea how delicate and intri-
cate must have been the operations of this skilful
anatomist, when we learn that ‘‘he very often
spent whole days in cleansing and preparing the
body of a single caterpillar, in order to discover the
true construction of that insect’s heart!” At
length he attained to an unequalled skill in this
department of science, and as the result of his
labours, completed a work which Boerhaave, with
natural pride, rejoices over, as the production of
one of his countrymen, who (he complains) “are
in general so liberally reproached with a dulness
that requires the inventions of others to sharpen
it! I am, however, convinced,” he adds, ‘that
this instance will suffice to convince mankind that
we have among us uncommon geniuses, who have
made the most important discoveries, and, spider-
138 BOERHAAVE’S MODESTY.

like, have furnished themselves alone both the
workmanship and the materials.”

The modesty of this truly great man did not
allow him to perceive how much his own fame was
destined to exceed that of the man he eulogized.

 
 

Alexander bon Bunboldt,

 

HE “Personal Narrative” of this renowned
natural philosopher and traveller ig re-
plete with incidents of a romantic char-
acter; and amid the vast stores of curious

and original information which he has detailed in

his travels to the equinoctial regions of the New

Continent, we find interspersed picture-scenes of

ereat beauty and descriptive charm.

The reader may perhaps like to recall the circum-
stances under which this accomplished traveller
commenced his career. M. de Humboldt was a
Prussian gentleman of good estate, who devoted
his time and his fortune to the pursuits of a liberal
curiosity. Prompted by such motives, he began
at the age of twenty-one to travel over Europe,
and in the space of six years traversed its various
countries. Returning to Paris in 1793, he was in-
vited by the directors of the National Museum to
accompany Captain Baudin in a voyage round the

 
140 A VISIT TO THE SPANISH COLONIES.

world. M. Bonpland of Rochelle, an excellent
naturalist, was named his associate in the expedi-
tion; but unfortunately the whole scheme was
abandoned in consequence of the renewal of hos-
tilities with Austria.

Disappointed in this plan, Humboldt resumed
the project which he had before entertained of
visiting, as a philosopher, the countries of the
Kast. In that view he was anxious to join the
celebrated expedition which had sailed to Egypt,
thinking he might thence proceed to India; but
the situation of France was becoming daily more
critical, and the fortunes of war again proved a
barrier to his proceeding. At length Humboldt
went to Spain, where a brighter prospect opened.
After residing some months at Madrid, he was, in
the most liberal and flattering terms, permitted by
the Spanish Court to visit her colonies in the New
World. He immediately invited from Paris his
friend Bonpland, whose profound skill in botany
and zoology was equalled only by his indefatigable
zeal; and without a moment’s delay, these eager
travellers, in June 1799, embarked at Corunna in a
Spanish ship, and after a prosperous voyage arrived
in the month of July at the port of Cumana, in
South America. The rest of the year was spent in
visiting the coast of Peru, tlhe Indian missions of
Chaymas, and the provinces of New Andalusia,
A PATHLESS EXPANSRE. 14]

New Barcelona, Venezuela, and Spanish Guiana.
Leaving the Caraccas, in January 1800 Humboldt
and his companion visited the charming valleys of
Araqua and the great lake of Valencia, which in
its general appearance resembles that of (seneva,
but has its banks clothed with all the luxuriant
vegetation of a tropical climate. In Cura, one of
its islets, they found cultivated a species of potato,
yielding wholesome and pleasant fruit. From
thence the travellers, directing their course south-
wards, crossed on horseback the vast plains of
Caloboza, Apure, and Oroonoko. They next tra-
versed the famous Llanos, an immense succession
of deserts, stretching nearly 200 miles on a dead
level, absolutely destitute of springs or rivulcts,
and only covered with a tall rank herbage. Over
this desolate and pathless expanse they journeyed
for whole days, without meeting a single shrub or
a solitary cabin to refresh the eye, while they suf-
fered extremely from the intense heat. At St
Fernando, on the river Apure, they began a most
fatiguing navigation of more than 3000 miles, which
they performed in canoes. Sailing down the Apure,
they entered the Oroonoko at the 7th degree of
north latitude, and, remounting that noble stream,
passed overland to the sources of the famous Rio
Negro. About thirty Indians were employed to
carry the canoes through lofty forests to the creek
142 COMPLICATED EVILS.

of Pemichin. Following the current, they shot
into the Rio Negro, on which they descended to
Fort St Charles. From this point again they re-
mounted by the Cassiquiari to the river Oronooko,
and reached the mission of Hismeralda, whence
they descended on the swelling stream to 1ts mouth.
This navigation down tle Oronooko was the most
painful and oppressive. They suffered from want
of provisions during the day, and were drenched
with torrents of rain during the night. Forced to
seek shelter or a miserable subsistence among the
woods, they were incessantly tormented by mos-
quitoes and countless varieties of noxious and loath-
some insects. Nor could they venture to seek
rehef by bathing their parched bodies in the flood,
since voracious fish and crocodiles watched them
on every side. After escaping such complicated
evils, and the dangerous effects of the exhalations
caused by the burning sun, Humboldt and Bon-
pland returned to Cumana by the plains of Cari and
the mission of the Caribs, a race of men quite dis-
tinct from any other, and perhaps, next to the
Patagonians, the largest and stoutcst in the whole
world.

Such is the outline given of the first expedition
of these two young men. The bare statement
makes us feel what heroic courage and dauntless
zeal must have inspired them. “Tantus amor,’
A NOCTURNAL SCENE. 143

For the sake of adventure and for the acquisition
of knowledge, no sacrifice is too great.

Let us now draw from the pages of M. Humboldt
a few of his animated pictures of nature and of his
personal adventures amid these untrodden wilds.
Here is a nocturnal scene on the banks of the river
Apure :—

“The night was calm and serene, and there
was a beautiful moonlight. The crocodiles were
stretched along the shore. They placed themselves
in such a manner as to be able to see the fire. We
thought we observed that its splendour attracted
them, as it attracts fishes, crayfish, and other in-
habitants of the water. The Indians showed us
the traces of three tigers in the sand, two of which
were very young. A female had no doubt con-
ducted her little ones to drink at the river. Find-
ing no tree on the strand, we stuck our oars in the
ground, and to these we fastened our hammocks.
Everything passed tranquilly till eleven at night,
and then a noise so terrific arose in the neighbour-
ing forest, that it was almost impossible to close
our eyes. Amid the cries of so many wild beasts
howling at once, the Indians discriminated such
only as were heard separately. These were the
little soft cries of the sapajous, the moans of the
alonates, the howlings of the tiger, the couguaz or
American lion without mane, the pecari, and the
144 ‘MIE FEAST OF THE FULL MOON.”

sloth, and the voices of the curassoa, the parraka,
and some other gallinaccous birds. When the
jaguars approached the skirt of the forest, our dog,
which till then had never ceased barking, began to
howl and seck for shelter beneath our hammocks.
Sometimes, after a long silence, the cry of the tiger
came from the top of the trees; and in this case
it was followed by the sharp and long whistling of
the monkeys, which appeared to flee from the
danger that threatened them.

‘“T notice every circumstance of these nocturnal
scenes, because, being recently embarked on the
Rio Apure, we were not yet accustomed to them.
We heard the same noises repeated during the
course of whole months, whenever the forest ap-
proached the bed of the rivers.

“When the natives are interrogated on the causes
of this tremendous noise made by the beasts of the
forest at certain hours of the night, they reply
gaily, “‘They are keeping the feast of the full
moon.” I believe this agitation is most frequently
the effect of some contest that has arisen in the
depths of the forest. The jaguars, for instance,
pursue the peccaris and the tapirs, which, having
no defence but in their numbers, flee in close
troops, and break down the bushes they find in
their way. Affrighted at this struggle, the timid
and mistrustful monkeys answer from the tops of
STRANGE SOUNDS. 145

the trees the cries of the large animals. They
awaken the birds that live in society, and by de-
grees the whole assembly is in movement. We
shall soon find that it is not always in a fine moon-
light, but more particularly at the time of a storm
and violent showers, that this tumult takes place
among the wild beasts. ‘May Heaven grant them
a quiet night and repose, and us also!’ said the
monk who accompanied us to the Rio Negro, when,
sinking with fatigue, he assisted in arranging our
accommodations for the night. It was indeed a
strange situation, to find no silence in the solitude
of woods. In the inns of Spain we dread the sharp
sounds of guitars from the next apartment; in
those of the Oroonoko,—which are an open beach,
or the shelter of a solitary tree,—we are afraid of
being disturbed in our sleep by voices issuing from
the forest.”

Immediately succeeding this night-scene we
have a striking account of the perils encountered
by our travellers during the day-time:—“ We
stopped at noon in a desert spot, where I left my
companions while they drew the boat to land, and
were occupicd in preparing our dinner. I went
along the beach to observe nearer a group of croco-
diles sleeping in the sun, and placed in such a
manner as to have their tails, furnished with broad
plates, resting on one another. Some little herons,
146 A PERILOUS EXCURSION.

white as snow, walked along their backs, and even
upon their heads, as if they were passing over
trunks of trees. The crocodiles were of a greenish-
gray, half covered with dried mud; from their
colour and immobility, they might have been taken
for statues of bronze. This excursion had nearly
proved fatal tome. I had kept my eyes constantly
turned toward the river; but, on picking up some
spangles of mica, agglomerated together in the
sand, I discovered the recent footsteps of a tiger,
easily distinguishable from their form and size.
The animal had gone towards the forest, and turn-
ing my eyes on that side, I found myself within
eighty steps of a jaguar, lying under the thick
foliage of a ceiba. No tiger had ever appeared to
me so large. I was extremely frightened, yet
sufficiently master of myself to enable me to follow
the advice which the Indians had so often given
us, how to act in such cases. I continued to walk
on without running; avoided moving my arms, and
thought I observed the attention of the brute was
fixed on a herd of capybaras which were crossing
the river. I then began to return, making a large
circuit towards the edge of the water. As the dis-
tance increased I thought I might accelerate my
pace. How often was I tempted to look back, in
order to assure myself that I was not pursued!
Happily I yielded very tardily to this desire. The
MUMBOLDI’S MENAGERIE, 147

jaguar had remained motionless. JI arrived at the
boat out of breath and related my adventure to the
Indians, who loaded their firelocks and accom-
panied us to the place where the animal had lain.
He was there no longer, and it would have been
imprudent to follow him into the forest.”

Very curious is the account given by M. Hum-
boldt of the ambulatory menagerie which he car-
ried about with him during this part of his expe-
dition. ‘‘In one of the huts of the Pacimonales
(Indians) we made the acquisition of two large fine
birds, a toucan and an emu, a species of macaw,
seventeen inches long, having the whole body of a
purple colour. We had already in our canoe seven
parrots, two mannakins, a motmot, two guans, two
manaviris, and eight monkeys. Father Zea (a
Roman Catholic missionary, who accompanied the
travellers) whispered some complaints at the daily
augmentation of this collection! The toucan re-
sembles the raven in its manners and intelligence.
It is a courageous animal, but easily tamed. Its
long and stout beak serves to defend it at a dis-
tance. It makes itself master of the house, steals
whatever it can come at, and loves to bathe often
and fish on the banks of the river. The toucan we
had bought was very young; yet it took delight,
during the whole voyage, in teasing the nocturnal

monkeys, which are sad and passionate. This
(352) 10
148 A FIERY DEFENCE.

bird makes extraordinary gestures when preparing
to drink. The monks say that it makes the sign of
the cross upon the water; and this popular belief has
obtained for the toucan from the Creoles the name of
diostede (God grant it thee). Most of our animals
were confined in small willow cages, others ran at
full liberty all over the boat. At the approach of
rain the macaws sent forth frightful cries; the
toucan wanted to gain the shore to fish; and the
little monkeys, the titis, went in search of Father
Zea, to take shelter in the large sleeves of his Fran-
ciscan habit. These scenes were often repeated,
and made us forget the torment of the moschettoes.
At night, when we rested, we placed a leather case
containing our provisions in the centre; then our
instruments and the cages of the animals; our
hammocks were suspended around these, and be-
yond were those of the Indians. The exterior
circle was formed by the fires which were lighted
to keep off the jaguars of the forest.”

Even this fiery defence encircling the encamp-
ment of the voyagers was not sufficient to preserve
the enclosure inviolate. ‘ Our satisfaction,” says
Humboldt, “ was disturbed at our last resting-place
on the Cassiquiare. We slept on the edge of a forest.
In the middle of the night we were warned by the
Indians that they heard very near us the cries of
the jaguar, and that they came from the top of
WILAT TIIE JAGUARS DID. 149

some neighbouring trees. Such is the thickness of
the forests in these regions that scarcely any ani-
mals are to be found there but such as climb trees,
including various species of the feline genus. Our
fires burning bright, and having by long habit be-
come tranquil respecting dangers, we paid little
attention to the cries of the jaguars. They were at-
tracted by the smell and voice of our dog. This
animal, which was of the mastiff breed, began at first
to bark, and, when the tiger drew nearer, to howl,
hiding himself beneath our hammocks. During
our halts on the banks of the Rio Apure we had
been accustomed to these alternations of courage
and fear in this young animal, which was gentle,
and extremely caressing. How great was our
chagrin when in the morning we learned from the
Indians that the dog had disappeared! There
could be no doubt it had been carried off by the
Jaguars: we were often assured by the inhabitants
of the banks of these rivers that the oldest jaguars,
those that have probably hunted at night for several
years, are sufficiently cunning to carry off animals
from the midst of a halting-place, grasping the
neck so as to prevent their cries. All our researches
were vain; the dog which had accompanied us all
the way from Caraccas, and which had frequently
in swimming escaped the pursuit of the crocodiles,
lad been devoured in the forest. I mention this
150 ON THE RIVER CASSIQUIARE.

incident merely to show the artifices of those large
cats with spreckled coats.”

Solitude the most profound, fohage the most
luxuriant, and mosquitoes the most envenomed,
were the three most striking characteristics of the
river Cassiquiare. ‘‘ Not five boats pass annually
by its waters,” says our traveller; ‘and since we
left Maypures—that is, for a whole month—we had
not met one living soul on the rivers as we ascended,
except in the immediate neighbourhood of the
missions. ‘To the south of Lake Duractumuni we
slept in a forest of palm-trees. It rained violently,
but the pothoses, arums,and lianas furnished so thick
a natural trellis, that we were sheltered as under a
vault of foliage. The Indians, whose hammocks
were placed on the edge of the river, interwove the
heliconias and other plants so as to form a kind of
roof over them. Our fires lighted up, to the height
of fifty or sixty feet; the palm-trees, the lianas,
loaded with flowers; and the columns of white
smoke, ascending in a straight line towards the
sky—the whole exhibited a magnificent spectacle;
but, to enjoy it with tranquillity, we should have
breathed an air free from insects. The mosquitoes,
which tormented us during the day, accumulated
towards evening beneath the roof of palm-leaves.
Our hands and faces had never before been more
swelled; Father Zea, who until then boasted of
A PLAGUS OF FLIES. 15]

having in his missions the largest and most valiant
mosquitoes, at length gradually acknowledged that
the sting of the insects of the Cassiquiare was the
most painful he had ever felt. In these regions
there is no more repose for the traveller. If he
have any poetical remembrance of Dante, he will
think he has entered the cztta dolente ; he will
seem to read on the rocks around these memorable
lines of the third Canto:

‘Noi sem venuti al luogo, ov’ i’ t’ho detto
Che tu vedrai le genti dolorose.’

‘In the missions of the Oroonoko, the plague of
the flies affords an inexhaustible subject of conver-
sation. When two persons meet in the morning,
the first questions they address to each other are,
‘How did you find the zancudoes during the night?
Tlow are we to-day for the mosquitoes ?’ I doubt
whether there is upon earth a country where man is
exposed to more cruel torments in the rainy season.

‘““ How comfortable must people be in the moon!’
sald a Galiva Indian to Father Gumilla ; ‘she looks
so beautiful and so clear, that she must be free
‘rom moschettoes.’

“These words, which denote the infancy of a
people, are very remarkable. The earth is, to the
American savage, the abode of the blessed, the
country of abundance. The Hsquimaux, whose
riches are a plank, or a trunk of a tree carried by
152 VICISSITUDES OF TRAVELLING.

the currents to his bare coast, sees in the moon plains
covered with forests. The Indian of the forests of
Oroonoko there beholds open savannahs, where the
inhabitants are never stung by mosquitoes.”
Another source of suffering to the travellers,
especially while traversing the vast steppes or
Llanos of these rivers, was the intense thirst occa-
sioned by the heat and drought. One of the most
striking scenes, on arriving at an encampment, was
the dispersion of the animals, mules, and horses, in
search of water. The poor brutes were set at
liberty to go whither instinct directed in the
savannah ; and no sooner were they released than
they rushed, their tail raised, their head thrown
back, running against the wind, stopping, from
time to time, as if they were exploring space, and
at length announcing, by prolonged neighings, the
neighbourhood of water. On one of these occa-
sions, M. Humboldt says, ‘‘ we followed our mules
in search of a pool. After having passed two
nights on horseback, and sought in vain by day for
some shelter from the ardour of the sun beneath
the tufts of the murichi palm-trees, we had ar-
rived before night at a little farm called El Cayman
(the alligator). It was a solitary house in the
steppes, surrounded by a few small huts, covered
with reeds and skins. We were covered with dust
and tanned by the sandy wind, which burns the
DISAPPOINTMENT AFTER DISAPPOINTMENT. 153

skin still more than the rays of sun. We longed im-
patiently to take a bath, but we found only a great
reservoir of feculent water, surrounded with palm-
trees. The water was turbid, though, to our great as-
tonishment,a little coolerthan the air. We hastened
to plunge into the pool, but scarcely had we begun
to enjoy the coolness of the bath, when we heard on
the opposite bank a noise which made us flee preci-
pitately. It was an alligator plunging into the mud.

“We were only at the distance of a quarter of a
league from the farm, yet we continued walking
more than an hour without reaching it. We per-
ceived, too late, that we had taken a false direction.
We attempted to return to the spot where we had
bathed, and we again walked three-quarters of an
hour without finding the pool. Sometimes we
thought we saw fire at the horizon; but it was the
stars that were rising, and of which the image was
enlarged by the vapours. After wandering a long
time in the savannah, we seated ourselves beneath
the trunk of a palm-tree, in a spot perfectly dry,
surrounded by short grass for fear of the water-
serpents. In proportion to the uncertainty of our
<ituation, we were rejoiced by hearing from afar
the sound of a horse advancing towards us. The
rider was an Indian, armed with a lance, who had
just made the round tocollect the cattle of the neigh-
pourhood. The sight of two white men, who said
154 EARLY TRAVELLING.

they had lost their way, perplexed him, and we found
it difficult to inspire him with confidence. At length
he consented to guide us to the farm of the Cayman,
but without slackening the gentle trot of his horse.”

In order to escape the burning heat of the day,
Humboldt determined to start next morning at
two A.M., in the hope of reaching Calabozo, a small
town situate in the midst of the Llanos. ‘ The
aspect of the country was the same. ‘There was no
moonlight ; but the great masses of nebule that
decorated the southern sky, enlightened, as they
set, a part of the terrestrial horizon. The solemn
spectacle of the starry vault, which displayed itself
in its immense extent; the cool breeze that blew
over the plain during the night; the waving mo-
tion of the grass wherever it had attained any
height—everything recalled to mind the surface of
the ocean. ‘The illusion, above all, augments when
the disk of the sun shows itself at the horizon, re-
peating its image by the effects of refraction, and
soon, losing its flattened form, ascends rapidly and
straight towards the zenith.

In proportion as the sun rose higher, and the
earth and the strata of superincumbent air took
different temperatures, the phenomenon of mirage
displayed itself, with its numerous modifications.
This phenomenon, the most anciently obscrved,
has received in Sanscrit the expressive name of
THE CATARACT OF MAYPURES. 155

desire (thirst) of the antelope, in allusion to those
tracts destitute of vegetation, which appear like
large lakes, with an undulating surface. We ad-
mire the frequent allusions in the Indian, Persian,
and Arabic poets to the magical effects of terres-
trial refraction. It was scarcely known to the
Greeks and Romans. Proud of the riches of their
soul, and the mild temperature of the air, they
would have felt no envy of this poetry of the de-
sert. It was born in Asia. The Oriental poets
found its source in the nature of the country they
inhabited ; they were inspired by the aspect of
those vast solitudes, interposed like arms of the
sea or gulfs between lands adorned by Nature with
her most luxuriant fertility.”

One only additional quotation must suffice us.
It depicts the emotions of M. Humboldt at sight
of the Cataract of Maypures :—

“We were never weary of the view of this
astonishing spectacle, concealed in one of the most
remote corners of the earth. Arrived at the sum-
mit of a granitic ridge that rises from the Savannah,
the eye suddenly takes in a sheet of foam extend-
ing a whole mile. Enormous masses of stone, black
as Iron, issue from its bosom. Some are grouped
in pairs like basaltic hills, others resemble towers,
strong castles, and ruined buildings. Their gloomy
tint contrasts with the silvery splendour of the
156 A LASTING IMPRESSION.

foam. Every rock and islet is covered with vigor-
ous trees, collected in clusters. Far as the eye can
reach, a thick vapour is suspended over the river,
and through this whitish fog the tops of the lofty
palm-trees shoot up. The leafy plume of this
palm-tree, the trunk of which is more than 80 feet
high, rises almost straight toward heaven. At
every hour of the day the sheet of foam displays
different aspects. Sometimes the hilly islands and
the palm-trees project their broad shadows; some-
times the rays of the setting sun are refracted
in the humid cloud that shrouds the cataract.
Coloured arcs are formed, and vanish and appear
again alternately; light sport of the air, their
images wave above the plain. _

“JT do not hesitate to repeat, that neither time
nor any other sight of beauty has effaced from my
mind the powerful impression of the aspect of the
cataracts. When I read a description of those
places in India that are embellished by running
waters and a vigorous vegetation, my imagination
recalls a sea of foam and palm-trees, the tops of
which rise above a stratum of vapour. The majestic
scenes of nature, like the sublime works of poetry
and the arts, leave remembrances that are inces-
santly reviving, and through the whole of life
mingle with all our feelings of what is grand and
beautiful.”
 

An Account of Joseph Homben, the Botanist.

 

“Must I call madness or reason that desire which allures us to seek and
examine plants? If I look back on the fate of naturalists, Iam persuaded that
the irresistible attractions of nature alone can induce us to face such dangers
and troubles. No science had ever so many martyrs as natural history.”"—
LINNAZUS.

= S24) prince of botanists did not speak un-

| advisedly when he uttered these memo-
rable words. Long indeed is the roll-call
of those who have fallen a sacrifice in
this cause; and among them all, no name better
(leserves honourable remembrance than that of the
French botanist and traveller, Joseph Dombey.
The career of this individual, though full of roman-
tic and touching interest, is comparatively little
known, and I feel persuaded that a slight sketch
of it will be acceptable to the reader.

He was born at Macon in 1742, and his parents
were in humble circumstances, but did their best
to give him a good education. Their cares, how-
ever, seemed at first to be but ungratefully repaid,

 
158 A TASTE FOR BOTANY.

for the lad was idle and given to dissipation, and
being harshly treated left his home. He had a
relative at Montpellier in whom he found a friend;
and resolving to embrace the study of medicine, he
entered himself at the university of that town.
There he imbibed, under the celebrated Professor
Gouan, a taste for natural history, more especially
for botany ; and to this taste he sacrificed his pro-
fession, and resigned himself, regardless of conse-
quences, to the full enjoyment of his new bent.
The fine country around him filled him with de-
light. The south of France, with its varied and
extensive coasts, its fertile plains, and its wild and
lofty mountains, was his first theatre of observa-
tion. During the summer he roved at large; and
when the season of the year obliged him to retire
to his college, he returned to no studies but such
as fostered and improved his proficiency in his
darling pursuit. Whatever time was not devoted
to that was given to pleasure and to the indulgence
of youthful gaiety and folly. Happily for his
moral character and his worldly interest, and pro-
bably also for his scientific success, he was induced
to remove to Paris in 1772, to improve his botanical
knowledge under the instructions of Jussieu and
Lemounier. Three years later he travelled to
Berne, and visited the great Haller, who welcomed
with satisfaction a rising naturalist, uniting creat
AT MADRID. 159

energy and zeal to an extent ot scientific know-
ledge which presaged future excellence.

While botanising among the Alps during his
return, Dombey received the welcome intelligence
that M. Turgot had, on the recommendation of
Jussieu, chosen him to go to Peru in search of
plants which might with advantage be naturalised
in Kurope. He immediately returned (on foot) to
Paris, and was presented to the minister, from
whom he received his appointment, with a salary
of 8000 livres. The purpose of the French autho-
rities could not, however, be carried into effect
without the permission of the Spanish Govern-
ment, and this was not procured till the close of
the year 1776. The intermediate period was de-
voted by our naturalist to a diligent and steady
application, in order the more perfectly to qualify
himself for his arduous and most congenial under-
taking.

On arriving at Madrid in November 1776, his
ardour met with several embarrassing checks in the
tedious delays and misplaced jealousy of the Spanish
Court, by whom he was encumbered with useless
instructions, and four companions were associated
with him, each of whom received a handsome
salary. His patience and courage were proof
against every annoyance: a new world was before
him, and he cared for nothing save to be permitted
160 A BOTANICAL EXPEDITION.

to pursue his course. At length, after nearly a
year had elapsed, he embarked at Cadiz, and hap-
pily accomplished the voyage in six months, arriv-
ing at Lima in the spring of 1778, where he
- obtained a favourable reception from the viceroy
and from M. de Bordenave, an old acquaintance of
his illustrious friend Jussieu.

His first botanical expedition, towards Quito, was
not without danger from hordes of runaway ne-
groes; but he thought himself amply repaid by
securing an abundant harvest of plants, as well as of
antiquities, from the sepulchres of the ancient Peru-
vians. These, together with a collection of seeds,
a fine herbarium, and a considerable quantity of
platina, he immediately sent to Europe. The seeds
had been partly picked up in the dry season from
the arid sands around Lima, where they lay, blown
about by the wind, or stored up by ants, awaiting
the autumnal fogs necessary to their germination,
for it never rains at Lima. He accompanied his
coliections with two manuscript treatises of his
own; one on a disease which he attributed to the
immoderate use of certain fruits of that country ;
and the other on a new but useless species of
Laurus, which ignorant observers had reported to
the Spanish Government as being the true cinna-
mon, a mistake which he found himself obliged to
rectify. He was subsequently employed by the
A DIFFICULT LABOUR. 161

viceroy to analyze some mineral waters of the
neighbourhood ; afterwards he settled for a time
in the mountainous province of Tarma, beyond the
Cordilleras, and in May 1780 visited Huanuco,
the extremity of the Spanish settlements in that
direction. In the vast and almost impervious
forests beyond, he ascertained the fact which
had been reported of the Oinchona, or Peruvian
bark, being abundant there, though previously sup-
posed to grow at Loxa only. He determined also
that there were several species of this valuable
drug, all more or less useful in medicine.

To investigate the botanical riches of these
forests, swarming with insects, and filled with
stagnant pestiferous vapours, proved a labour of
no less danger than difficulty. There was besides
another and a still more formidable obstacle than
the natural obstructions presented by these wild
regions. During one of his botanical expeditions his
little company was attacked .by a party of maroon
negroes, against whom they defended themselves
with so much courage that they succeeded in
making their escape, and even took three prisoners.
These savages determined to take their revenge,
and having assembled to the number of two hun-
dred, were advancing, under cover of the night,
with the intention of plundering their camp, but
happily, being made acquainted with their danger,
162 LIBERAL TO A FAULT.

they effected a precipitate and perilous retreat to
Huanuco. From thence Dombey returned alone
to Lima, where various difficulties awaited him.
He had lost all his outfit, and his pecuniary income
was quite inadequate to his wants. The celebrated
Necker, then in power, increased his salary, but
still his funds were by no means so large as those
of his Spanish associates. It is said that, notwith-
standing this, he contrived to lend them, when
they found themselves embarrassed, a considerable
sum. The truth is, like many men of his stamp,
Dombey was liberal to a fault when he had money
in hand, and was frequently in difficulties owing to
his imprudence and want of consideration. His
kindly heart prompted him ever to do generous
actions; and he frequently assisted the unfortu-
nate, and bestowed on others what he could ill
spare. He loved to spend; but, on the other
hand, he knew how to bear privations. Sometimes
he lived merrily, and had a numerous escort; at
another time he would be content with a solitary
attendant, and with poor fare.

That which most perturbed him, and upset his
equanimity, was the opposition he encountered
from the rich and ignorant, who despised his know-
ledge and thwarted him in his scientific objects.
However, his medical information proved of great
use to him during his residence in Lima; it aug-
THE ORCHARDS OF LIMA. 163

mented his income, and gained him the respect and
confidence of those who could not appreciate his
skill as a naturalist. They were ready enough to
be cured by the French savant, when they found
him a more skilful leech than their own country-
men ; and thus self-interest secured what merit and
justice had failed to obtain for him. For the rest,
he thoroughly enjoyed the amusements of the gay
soclety with which for a time he mingled, and
lis lively manners and agreeable person made him
a favourite in those assemblies over which the fair
Limefias presided.

Lhe number and variety of the vegetable pro-
ductions of the country afforded a rich treat to our
naturalist. In a climate so favourable to all kinds
of vegetation, tropical and equinoctial fruits and
flowers abound. The predominant colour of the
flowers of indigenous plants upon the coast being
yellow, while those of the mountains are white,
the natives have a common proverb, “Ora en la
costa, plata en la sierra” (Gold on the coast, silver
in the mountains). One of the attractions of Lima
is its orchards ; they are described as being always
beautiful. Unlike those of Europe, the native
fruit-trees are evergreens, and present the garb of
spring during the whole year. The rich green of
the banana and plantain, their enormous leaves

rustling with every breeze and discovering their
(352) ll
164 A NATURALIST’S ELYSIUM.

pendant branches of fruit; the orange-tree, enam-
elled with green and white and gold; the pome-
eranate, with its crimson bell; the shady chirimoya,
breathing aroma in the evening breeze; the trail-
ing grandilla, stretching from tree to tree, and
seeking support for its slender and laden branches ;
the luxuriant vine, creeping over trellises and hiding
beneath its cooling leaves the luscious grape ;—all
these, and many others, abound in every garden of
the broad and fertile plain watered by the Rimac.
What an Elysium for the naturalist !

Having despatched his second collection to
Kurope, Dombey returned to Huanuco in the
month of December 1780. There, to the other
difficulties of his situation, were added the horrors
of a desolating civil war. The Indians rose in in-
surrection under the leadership of Tupac Amaru,
who claimed to -be a descendant of the last of the
Incas. The popularity of his cause soon attracted
to his standard a multitude of undisciplined Indians,
whose desperate valour, of which even the women
partook, seemed for a time to counterbalance the
discipline, the arms, and the skill of their op-
ponents. The town of Huanuco was in the utmost
consternation ; a man of courage and energy like
Dombey could not remain inert at such a moment:
he made his appearance at the general council of
the inhabitants, and warmly urged the Spaniards
A GENEROUS OFFER. 165

to repel the insurgents ; at the same time he offered
himself to aid the cause, by presenting a sum of
1000 piastres, twenty loads of corn, and two regi-
ments, raised and equipped at his expense. Thou oh
his pecuniary assistance was very properly declined,
his zeal was publicly applauded by all orders of
people, and testified by authentic documents ex-
pressive of their gratitude. When the insurrection
was quelled, Dombey generously presented to the
hospital of St Jean de Dieu the sum he had offered
towards the defence of the state,

Shortly after these events he returned to Lima,
where he had the mortification of hearing that his
first collection had been captured by the English,
and redeemed at Lisbon by the Spanish Govern-
ment. In consequence of this mishap, a very
valuable part of it, the ancient Peruvian vases, and
a complete dress of one of the Incas, which he
had destined for his own sovereign, had been pre-
sented to the Spanish monarch; duplicates of the
dried plants and seeds only having been forwarded
to Paris,

In the meantime, though enfeebled by his long
and laborious journeys, Dombey determined to
accomplish a visit to Chili; and leaving his more
recent acquisitions in safety at Lima, he com-
menced his undertaking. This had been from the
first a principal object of his mission, on account of
166 VISITING CHILI.

the nearer resemblance of the climate of Chili to
that of France, which rendered its vegetable pro-
ductions more likely to be of use there. He arrived
at La Conception in the beginning of 1782, where
his adventurous destiny had prepared for him far
other cares and pursuits than those of botany. The
town was afflicted with a pestilential fever, and he
was cautioned to avoid certain infected houses
where itraged. Instead of following this advice,
he devoted himself to the exercise of his medical
skill, and assisted the sufferers among the poorer
class with the most valuable charity of his advice,
as well as with food and with medicine, and even
with nurses, whom he supplied at his own charge.
This example did much to restore public confidence,
and his generous and self-denying conduct operated
so powerfully upon the grateful people, that they
strove to induce him to remain among them, pro-
mising him a handsome stipend as their physician.
It is intimated that other and more tempting attrac-
tions were not wanting to induce him to comply
with these wishes, and that one of the principal
dignitaries of the Church of La Conception endea-
voured to promote his union with a young lady of
great beauty and riches, on whom his merit had
made impressions as honourable to herself as to
him. From motives of mistaken patriotism he
tore himself away, to pursue the primary object of
LABOUR AND SORROW. 167

his life—an object which, as subsequent events
proved, would have been best fulfilled by his per-
manent residence in Chili, from whence he might
at leisure have communicated the subsequent fruits
of his inquiries. But the restless and enterprising
spirit of Dombey urged him onwards, and labour
and sorrow were his appointed lot. During this
journey he discovered the majestic tree of the tribe
of Pines, 150 feet high, named by Lamarck Dom-
beya, in honour of his meritorious and unfortunate
countryman; and having added greatly to his collec-
tion of drawings, shells, and minerals, as well as
plants, while in Chili, and discovered a new and
most valuable mine of quicksilver and another of
gold, he revisited Lima to take his passage for
Europe.

While he still remained at Lima, the labours
of arranging and packing his collections of natural
history, added to the fatigues he had already under-
gone, and the troubles he experienced from some
of the Spaniards in power, preyed upon his health
and spirits; and under the idea that he might pos-
sibly never reach Europe, he wrote to his friend
Thouin to take the necessary precautions for the
safety of his treasures on their arrival in a Spanish
port. He survived, however, to undergo far greater
distresses than he had yet known. After narrowly
escaping shipwreck at Cape Horn, and being obliged
168 QUESTIONABLE USAGE.

to wait at the Brazils till his ship could be refitted,
he reached Cadiz on the 22d February 1785; “ but
instead (says his biographer) of the reception he
expected and deserved from the nation he had
chiefly benefited, every Spaniard, from the sub-
alterns of the customhouse to the ministers of
state, seemed leagued to mortify him and to render
his labours useless. His collections were exposed
to the rude and useless scrutiny of the barbarians
at the customhouse, so as to be rendered useless,
in a great measure, even to those who meant to
plunder them. The whole were thrown afterwards
into damp warehouses, where they lay for the plants
to rot, and the inestimable collections of seeds to
lose their powers of vegetation, till certain forms
of the grave and sapient most Catholic Church
were gone through. He could never obtain that
the seeds should be committed to the earth so as
to be of use, and hence the gardens of Europe were
never enriched with more than some half score of
his botanical discoveries, among which were the
inagnificent Datura arborea, the beautiful Salvia
formosa, and the fragrant Verbena triphylla; this
last will be a ‘monumentum cere perennius’ with
those who shall ever know his history.” *
Disappointed and foiled, Dombey was compelled
to remain at Cadiz without friends, whose sympathy

* See art. “ Dombey” in “ Rees’ Cyclopedia,” by Sir J. E. Smith.
CHAGRINED AND OPPRESSED. 169

might have cheered him, his only hope being that
he might hereafter publish his discoveries, so ag to
secure some benefit to the world and some honour
to himself. But this last consolation was denied
him. He was not suffered to depart till all hig
MSS. had been copied, and he had given a written
promise never to publish anything till the return
of his travelling companions. In the meanwhile
those very companions were detained by authority
in Peru; and in after times many of the original
botanical descriptions of Dombey appeared ver-
batim, without acknowledgment, in the pompous
flora of Peru and Chili, which thence derived a
great part of its value. Thus chagrined and op-
pressed, the unhappy Dombey was permitted to
return—with such part of his collections as they
suffered him to retain—to Paris.

There, in 1786, he appeared, “no longer (says
the same writer) the handsome lively votary of
pleasure, nor even the ardent enthusiastic cultivator
of science. The leaden hand of tyranny had im-
pressed its own stamp on his countenance, and he
had the sallow, silent, melancholy aspect of a
depressed and disappointed Spaniard. He chiefly
associated with his faithful friends Le Mounier and
Thouin, and in their society botanical converse stil]
retained its charms. To the contents of his own
collection, which, however injured and diminished,
170 A PEACEFUL RETREAT.

was still a very interesting one, he paid little atten.
tion. Bound by his promise, his high sense of
honour would not let him make the proper use of
it; but at length he was induced to part with it
to M. de Buffon, who nobly exerted himself so
as to procure from Government a pension of 6000
livres for Dombey, and 60,000 livres to pay his
debts.”

Disheartened and exhausted with fatigue and
blighted hopes, Dombey now determined to seck
retirement in a peaceful retreat at the foot of Mont
Jura, where he had a friend devoted to the love
and cultivation of plants. He broke off all gcien-
tific correspondence except with M. Pavon, one of
his fellow-labourers in Peru, who had all along
been innocent of the malicious attacks against him.
He refused a place in the French Academie des
Sciences, as well as a large pecuniary offer from
the Empress of Russia for the duplicates of his
collection, saying, “he was not in want of money,
and had most pleasure in distributing his specimens
among his friends.” His only remaining happiness
was in deeds of benevolence; and he was sometimes
heard to say, ‘I am satisfied, for I have had it in
my power to-day to benefit a fellow-creature.”

On his way to Switzerland he took up his resi-
dence for some time at Lyons, and had the misfor-
tune to be present during the siege of that town.
IN PRISON. 171

All his energy of mind revived at the sight of dis-
tress and danger, and those who were ready to
perish experienced the consolation of such assist-
ance as he had it in his power to bestow. He sup-
pled their necessities and healed their wounds.
But his soul sickened at the sight of public mise-
ries on every side which he was unable to alleviate,
and at the end of some months he returned to
Paris, and procured a commission to visit North
America, in order to purchase corn from the United
States, and to fulfil some other commissions relative
to science and commerce.

A tempest obliged him to take shelter at Guada-
lope, which ill-fated island was then in as distracted
a state as the mother country. Dombey, having
been sent out by the French Republic, was an
object of suspicion to the Royalist governor, and
being summoned to appear before him, judged it
prudent to retire on board a vessel bound for Phila-
delphia.

Before however he could embark, he was seized
and thrown into prison. A proceeding so violent
and unjustifiable excited general indignation, and
the authorities thought proper to release him, but
not before a public commotion had been excited
on his behalf; and while trying to appease the
tumultuous mob which threatened vengeance on
his enemies, he was accidentally thrown into a
172 THE END OF AN EVENTFUL LIFE.

river, the consequences of which disaster were
nearly fatal to his life.

When sufficiently recovered, he waited on the
governor; and though his innocence was acknow-
ledged, he was commanded to quit the colony
without delay.

His unhappy fate still pursued him; for the
vessel in which he sailed was scarcely out of the
harbour when it was attacked by two privateers
and captured, and Dombey, disguised as a Spanish
sailor, was thrown into prison in the island of
Monserrat, where ill-treatment, grief, and disease,
put a period to his eventful life in the spring of
1796.

 
 

 

Aw Encident in the Wie of Hutresnoyv.

 

S|NDRE DUFRESNOY was born at Valen-
clennes in 1733. He embraced the me-
dical profession, and was appointed phy-
sician of the military hospital in his native
city, and, being a considerable proficient in botany,
was also a professor of that science. In 1793 he
received the appointment of physician-in-chief to
the Army of the North. His predecessor in that
post having remained at Brussels after the defec-
tion of General Dumouriez, had been proscribed
and put on the list of the émigrés. Dufresnoy
learned that he was sick, and was anxious to return
to his native land; and, prompted by his generous
heart, he ventured to write in favour of the unfor-
tunate man to the Minister of War. This humane
and courageous act was taken in very ill part by the
authorities ; and Dufresnoy, accused of complicity
with an émigré, was, in consequence, deposed from

 
174 AN ALARMING ACCUSATION.

his situation. A universal expression of dissatisfac-
tion throughout the ranks of the army gave unmis-
takable proof that the blow had fallen upon a worthy
and deserving man. Fiven the most ardent repub-
licans, those who had denounced the so-called aris-
tocrats, made application in favour of Dufresnoy.
The result was a partial retraction of the severity
of the sentence against him. ‘The minister wrote
to the Committee of Public Safety that Dufresnov
might probably have been mnocent of any bad
intention in the application he had made on behalf
of his predecessor, but that, as he had given proof
of a weakness incompatible with the duties of a
firm republican, he could not efficiently occupy the
post of physician-in-chief to the Army of the North,
since that official must necessarily be brought into
contact with a vast number of soldiers over whom
he must exercise considerable influence, and con-
sequently he would be required to serve the state
as much by his devotedness as a citizen as by his
medicalskill. Dufresnoy was consequently sent to
St Omer, to superintend the military hospital there.
But he was now a suspected man, and in a short
time a new and much more alarming accusation was
brought against him, which was very near conduct-
ing him to the scaffold.

Dufresnoy had been the first to introduce into
France the cultivation of the Rhus radicans; he
A DISCOVERY ! 175

had long cultivated it at Valenciennes, and had
given some of the plants to a medical botanist at
Cambray. Having received intelligence from this
friend that these offshoots from his treasured
shrub were flourishing, in a letter addressed to him,
he made use of this expression :—“ Comment vont
nos chers Rhus? Qu’il me tard deles voir!” This
letter, written by an homme suspect, was intercepted
and read before the Revolutionary Committee.
Here was a discovery for these patriotic citizens!
The Empress of Russia was about to join the allied
forces, and Dufresnoy, with his aristocratic ten-
dencies, was in intelligence with that sovereign ;
for they are doubtless the Russians whom he is so
impatient to see; the thing is clearly proved!

Immediately an order of arrest was made out,
and the traitorous physician brought up before the
Revolutionary tribunal of Arras, at that time pre-
sided over by the atrocious Lebon, the monster
who sentenced to the scaffold a quiet and inoffen-
sive citizen, solely because he had in his possession
a parroquet which cried ‘‘ Vive le Roy!” It was
seriously proposed (by the way) to guillotine the
bird as well as his owner, but Lebon’s wife saved
the creature by undertaking that he should be
taught to say “ Vive la Montagne.”

In the hands of this bloodthirsty wretch, Dufres-
noy would have had no chance of escape. His
L76 RESTORED TO FREEDOM.

trial was already about to commence, and he would
infallibly have suffered death, because the mem-
bers of the Revolutionary Committee were ignorant
of the meaning of a botanical word, when, provi-
dentially, the 9th Thermidor arrived precisely at
this critical time ; Lebon himself was arrested, and
the naturalist had an opportunity of explaining to
his judges that his “‘chers Rhus” were not soldiers
armed against liberty, but plants, the juice of which,
as he conceived, would prove highly beneficial as a
medical remedy. The worthy man was conse-
quently restored to freedom and sent back to the
hospital at Valenciennes, where he continued to
discharge his duties and cultivate his Rhus as long
as he lived. Dufresnoy, for the rest, was an en-
thusiast in his notions as to his favourite plants
and herbs, and it appears some of his supposed dis-
coverles turned out to be fallacies. In point of
fact, he was no sooner dead than hig brother, who
practised medicine at Valenciennes, plucked up
from his garden the unfortunate Rhus which had so
nearly proved fatal to their cultivator,*

* It may interest some readers to be told that Rhus in botany is
the name given to a shrubby, arborescent genus, known in our
gardens as the sumach. There are numerous spccies, some of
which are poisonous. The Rhus toxicodendron and radicans were
at one time recommended in paralytic affections; ‘but the
cases In which these virulent plants were employed are few and
indecisive.”
 

Adventures of a Missionary Maturalist
IN THE NICOBAR ISLANDS.

neces

Se cjN the year 1756 a commercial establish-
| ment was begun by the Danes on the
v7 y | Nicobar Islands; and shortly after a band
— of devoted missionaries belonging to the
Church of the United Brethren settled there, for
the purpose of endeavouring to convert the natives
to the Christian faith, Among these heroic men
was one named John Gottfried Haensel, who during
seven years remained at his post until he was the
sole survivor, and was compelled to abandon that
melancholy field of labour which had proved fatal
to all his associates, who had found an untimely
grave in Nancauwery, the island on which they
had resided.

In a series of curious and valuable letters Haensel
has described this group, with their inhabitants
and natural productions; and in his account of the

    
178 A TOUCHING TALE.

latter there are some details of peculiar interest,
occasioned by the sympathy awakened on behalf of
the simple-minded, self-sacrificing man, who tells
the touching tale of his labours and sufferings.
After clearing and planting the land in order to
procure themselves the necessaries of life, the
Brethren endeavoured to lessen the expenses of
the mission by making collections of shells, ser-
pents, insects, and other natural curiosities, for
which there was a ready sale in various parts of
Europe. At one time Haensel especially devoted
his attention to this occupation; and though pos-
sessing no previous acquaintance with natural
history, he by constant practice and experience
acquised considerable skill as a collector. During
his frequent excursions along the sea-coast, it
sometimes happened that the solitary wanderer
was benighted, and could not reach his dwelling;
but in such a case he was never at a loss for a bed.
“The greater part of the beach,” he tells us, ‘‘con-
sisted of aremarkably fine white sand, which above
high-water mark was perfectly clean and dry. Into
this I dug with ease a hole large enough to contain
my body, forming a mound as a pillow for my
head. I then lay down, and, by collecting the sand
over me, buried myself in it up tomy neck. My
faithful dog always lay across my body, ready to
give the alarm in case of disturbance from any
NOCTURNAL VISITORS. 179

quarter. However, I was under no apprehension
from wild animals; crocodiles and caymans never
haunt the open coast, but keep in creeks and
lagoons, and there are no ravenous beasts on the
island. The only annoyance I suffered was from
the nocturnal perambulations of an immense variety
of crabs of all sizes, the grating noise of whose
armour would sometimes keep me awake. But
they were well watched by my dog; and if any
one ventured to approach, he was sure to be sud-
denly seized and thrown to a more respectful
distance ; or, if a crab of more tremendous appear-
ance deterred the dog from exposing his nose to its
claws, he would bark and frighten it away, by
which, however, I was often more seriously alarmed
than the occasion required. Many a comfortable
night’s rest have I had in these sepulchral dormi-
tories when the nights were clear and dry.”

But although there was little to fear from the
attacks of savage animals on Nancauwery, Haensel
assures us that 1t would have been hazardous in
the extreme to expose oneself thus on the Con-
tinent, as well as in some of the other East Indian
islands, on account of the numbers of these crea-
tures of various descriptions with which they
abound. He was himself in imminent peril on one
of his voyages either to or from Queda. A Danish

ship hailed their vessel, and approaching them m-
(352) 12
180 A PROVIDENTIAL DELIVERANCE.

cautiously, ran foul of the stern and broke the flag-
staff. They therefore put into a creck, and some
of the men landed near a wood to fell a tree to
make a new staff. Hoping to be able to procure
some fresh meat for supper, Mr Haensel accom-
panied them, armed with his double-barrelled gun.
While they were at their work he walked outside
the thicket, eagerly searching for game, and soon
discovered among the high grass an object which,
by its motions, he mistook for the back of a hare.
He took aim, and was just about to fire, when the
animal rose up and proved to be a tiger, of which
the top of the head only had been visible. In-
voluntarily he dropt his arm and stood motionless
with horror, expecting that the creature would im-
mediately make a spring at him. He had given
himself up for lost, but, providentially, the beast
appeared as much alarmed as he was, and after
looking at him for a few moments, turned slowly
about and began to creep away, like a frightened
cat, with his belly close to the ground; then, gradu-
ally quickening his pace, fled with precipitation
into the wood.

some time elapsed before the missionary re-
covered self-possession sufficient to retrace his steps
to the beach, for he felt his very heart tremble
within him (as he forcibly expresses himself). His
perils, however, were not yet ended. As he ap-
CAYMAN FLESH. 181

proached the water there was a piece of jungle, or
low thicket, before him, and he was turning to the
left in order to pass round by the side opposite the
boat, thinking he might yet find game, when see-
ing the men labouring hard to drag the tree they
had felled towards the water, he altered his course
and went to their assistance. No sooner had he
entered the boat than he discovered, on that side
of the jungle to which he was first going, a large
cayman, close to the beach, watching their motions.
Had he gone the way he purposed, he must. cer-
tainly have encountered this monster, and most
thankful did he feel for this second preservation
of his life. He adds—‘ Part of the flesh of the
cayman is good and wholesome, when well cooked.
It tastes somewhat like pork, for which I took it
and ate it with much relish when I first came to
the island, till, discovering what it was, I felt a
loathing which I could never overcome; but it is
eaten by both natives and Europeans.”

Serpents abound in the Nicobar Islands, though
not in such numbers as on the coast of Coromandel.
Of some of the more rare and curious, Haensel has
given a striking account. ‘I wish I could gratify
you,” he says, “with a list of the different kinds of
serpents, crabs, spiders, and other creatures which
I caught everywhere, either to stuff, put into spirits,
or otherwise prepare for my customers. At our
182 PREPARING SPECIMENS.

garden near Tranquebar, I had a shop or work-
room purposely constructed for these opcrations,
and kept sometimes two or three Malabar boys at
work to help me. Of serpents and snakes I had a
list of upwards of eighty different species, from the
size of a common worm to 16 and 20 feet long; of
crabs, upwards of ninety; and of spiders, more than
forty. Whether I went into the woods, on the
beach, by land, or by sea, I was accustomed to look
about and examine every object I saw, and acquired
great facility in catching some of the most danger-
ous anlmals without harm to myself. Far from
being afraid of serpents, I went out purposely to
discover their haunts, in the jungle or among the
rocks, defending my legs with a pair of strong
boots ; and ifI could prevent their slipping off into
their holes, and irritate them so as to make them
attempt to strike me, my work was done. A ser-
pent thus situated, will coil himself up, and in-
stantaneously darting forward his head, strike and
bite whatever comes in his way. I then presented
my hat, which the animal violently seized with his
fangs; when. instantly snatching it away, I seldom
failed to extract them by the sudden jerk; for, being
curved, they cannot be readily withdrawn, and, sit-
ting but loosely in the gums, are easily disengaged.
Being thus rendered in a great degree harmless,
J pinned their heads down, and tied them up.
THE “ SPLIT SNAKE.” 183

“There is among them a short serpent, found in
the neighbourhood of Tranquebar, and called by
us the Splut Snake. Itis black, with a white streak
down its back, dividing the body longitudinally.
Its bite is extremely venomous; and being slender,
it can insinuate itself into a very small hole or
cranny, and will enter rooms and closets in search
of food. There was a door in a dark part of my
workroom, with a large clumsy lock to it. One
evening as I was attempting to open it, having to
pass that way, I felt a sudden prick in my finger,
and at the same time a violent electrical shock, as
if were riven asunder. Not thinking of a serpent,
I at first imagined that my Malabar boys had, in
their play, wound some wire about the handle, by
which I had been hurt, and asked them sharply
what mischief they had done to the door. They
denied having meddled with it, and I made a second
attempt, when I was attacked still more violently,
and perceived the blood trickling down my finger.
I then returned into my room, sucking the wound
till I could draw no more blood, I applied some
spirits of turpentine to it, put on a bandage, and
being much hurried that evening with business
made no further investigation into it. However, in
the night it swelled, and was very painful. In the
morning I went again into the workroom, when I
thought I perceived an unpleasant musky smell. ©
184 WITAT WAS IN THE LOCK.

On approaching the same door the stench was in-
tolerable, and again I asked the boys the cause of
the nuisance; but they persisted in declaring their
ignorance concerning the matter. A candle was
brought, and I now beheld the origin of all the
mischief. About six inches length of the head and
body of a young split snake hung out of the key-
hole, quite dead; and on taking off the lock, I found
the creature twisted intoit. It had evidently in-
tended to enter the room through the keyhole when
I thus accidentally stopped its progress and got
bitten ; and considering the deadly poison this ser-
pent injects into the wound it inflicts, I felt very
thankful to God, my Preserver, that, by sucking
the infected blood out of my finger in time, and
applying a proper remedy, though ignorant of the
cause of the wound, my life was not endangered.

‘‘ Another kind of serpent struck me as a singular
species; itis of a green colour, has a broad head
and mouth like a frog, very red eyes, and its bite is
so venomous that I have seen a woman die within
half an hour after being wounded. Of other re-
markable kinds I will only mention the IWhip-
snake, which is green, from 4 to 6 feet long, slender,
and springs horizontally from tree to tree, whence
it 1s also called Flying Snake. The species known
by the name of the Double-headed Snake lvas not
two heads, but is equally thick behind and before,
ALONE IN THE DESERT. 185

and, like some caterpillars, furnished with a kind
of protuberance at its tail, which, to a superficial
observer, may pass for another head. They are of
a reddish colour, and resemble a long sausage. The
Wall Snake climbs a wall with great agility, and is
small and spotted. The bite of all these serpents
is attended with great danger.”

By this incident of the split snake, I am reminded
of a similar peril and escape, mentioned in the
history of another of the Moravians. Lewis Dachne
was residing in Berbice, in a solitary hut, on the
borders of the Corentyn, a river shaded by immense
forests and bordered by extensive swamps, the lurk-
ing-places of wild beasts, serpents, and other noxious
creatures. For about two years this devoted mis-
sionary remained in this savage desert alone, un-
befriended and without companions. Yet he was
content and happy, fearless of evil, believing him-
self to be at the post of duty, and not only enjoying
the internal consciousness of the Divine favour,
but he experienced some remarkable deliverances
from imminent peril. One of them is thus related.
Being one evening attacked with a paroxysm of
fever, he felt himself compelled to retire to his hut
and lie down in his hammock. Just, however, as
he entered the door, he beheld a serpent in the act
of dropping down upon him from the roof. In the
scuffle which ensued the reptile bit him in two or
186 A REMARKABLE DELIVERANCE.

three places,and, pursuing him closely, twined itself
several times around his head and neck, as tightly
as possible. Hxpecting now to be strangled to
death, he gave himself up for lost, and afraid lest
his brethren should suspect that the Indians had
murdered him, he, with surprising presence of mind,
wrote with a piece of chalk upon his table—‘ A
serpent has killed me.” Suddenly, however, the
promise of the Saviour darted into his mind: “ They
shall take up serpents and shall not be hurt.”
Animated by the recollection of these words, he
seized the creature, and exerting his utmost force,
tore it loose from his body and flung it out of the
hut. He then lay down in his hammock and slept
tranquilly ; nor did he experience any serious injury
from the wounds inflicted by the serpent, which
was probably one of that class whose bite is not
venomous, but which destroy life by strangulation.

lo return to our missionary naturalist. Decidedly
the most valuable natural production, in a com-
mercial point of view, of the Nicobar Islands, are
the nests of the esculent swallow (Hirundo edulis),
called by the natives Hinlene. As is well known,
these singular constructions are not only eatable,
but considered one of the greatest delicacies of the
table by the luxurious Asiatics. They are com-
posed of some gelatinous substance, about the
materials of which authors generally differ. Some
THE “ AGAL-AGAL.” 187

have imagined it to consist of sea-worms, of the
mollusca order. J'orester conceives it to be the
sea-qualm, a sort of cuttle-fish found in those seas,
or a glutinous sea-plant called agal-agal. Again,
it has been supposed they rob other birds of their
egos, and apply the whites of them to their build-
ing purposes.

Haensel’s account. is curious and unique. He
says they build in fissures and cavities of rocks,
especially in such as open to the south. In the
latter the finest and whitest nests are found. They
are small, and shaped like swallows’ nests. If
perfect, seventy-two of them go to a catty, or 13
pounds. The best sale for them isin China. As
to the substance of which they are made, Haensel
says—‘“ After the most diligent investigation, I
was never able fully to discover this point; nor do
any of the opinions of naturalists with which I
have become acquainted appear satisfactory to me,
neither have the authors alluded to ever seen the
birds. They have remarkably short legs, and are
unable to rise if they once fall or settle on the
ground. I caught many in this state, and after
examining them threw them up into the air, when
they immediately flew away; they cannot, there-
fore, aS some suppese, obtain their materials on
the coast and from rocks in the sea. My opinion
is, that the nests are made of the gum of a peculiar
188 A FULL DISCOVERY.

tree, called by some the Nicobar cedar, and grow-
ing in great abundance in all the southern islands.
Its wood is hard, black, and very heavy. From
December to May it is covered with blossom, and
bears a fruit somewhat resembling a cedar or pine-
apple, but more like a berry, full of eyes or pus-
tules, discharging a gum or resinous fluid. About
these trees, when in bloom or bearing fruit, I have
seen innumerable flocks of these little birds, flying
and fluttering like bees round a tree or shrub in
full flower, and am of opinion that they there
gather the materials for their nests. I relate the
fact, having often watched them with great atten-
tion, but will not venture to affirm that I have
made a full discovery. I observed before, that
these birds dwell in cavities of rocks, like bees in
a hive, flying in and out, and building their nests
together, hke martins or swallows. The hen con-
structs a neat, large, well-shaped nest, calculated
for laying and hatching her eggs, and the cock
contrives to fix another, smaller and rather more
clumsy, close to his mate; for they are not built
for the purpose of laying eggs, but for resting-
places, whence they may take wing. If they are
robbed of them, they immediately begin to build
others, and being remarkably active, are able to
finish enough in a day to support the weight of
their bodies, though they require about three weeks
THE CAUSE OF CONFUSION. 189

to complete a nest. During the N.E. trade-wind
they are all alive and fly about briskly; but as soon
as the wind comes round to the S.W., they sit or
lie in their nests in a state of stupor, and show
animation only by a kind of tremulous motion over
their whole body. If their nests were taken away
at that season, the poor birds must inevitably
perish.”

Uhese birds’ nests were the occasion, incidentally,
of no small trouble and danger to the missionaries.
They brought a great number, both of Malays and
Chinese, to the coasts in search of them. These
marauders always caused much confusion and quar-
relling among the otherwise peaceable islanders, by
their knavery and frequent assassinations; and en
one occasion, having conceived a grudge against
Mr Haensel, who, having been appointed temporary
president for the King of Denmark, considered it
his duty to protest against a robbery they wanted
to commit. They threatened to have their revenge
by killing him, and the natives, who knew them
well, said they would be as good as their word.
These poor people, though unimpressed by the re-
ligious teaching of the Brethren, were gratefully
attached to them for all their kindness, and offered
to stay at night and defend them; but not apparently
sharing in the alarm, Haensel dismissed them to
their own homes, and the mission family prepared
190 AN ADVENTURE WITH MALAYS.

to retire to rest. To their terror, they shortly after
heard a violent knocking at the door, and on look-
ing out perceived a number of Malays surrounding
the entrance. These miserable wretches speedily
forced an entrance, and after a short parley, some
of them drew their daggers, and showed how they
were tipped with poison. ‘‘ They looked,” says our
friend, ‘more like a host of devils than a company
of human beings, and all on a sudden seemed about
to make a rush upon me. I commended myself in
silence to my Almighty Helper, and awaited the
issue calmly. To my surprise they drew back,
leaving me unharmed, and one by one left me
standing alone in perfect astonishment. As soon
as they were gone, I fell on my knees, and with
tears gave thanks to God my Saviour, who had
rescued me out of the hands of these savages.”

in all probability, the perfect self-possession and
calm demeanour of this remarkable man were the
cause, providentially overruled, of cowing the spirits
of the Malays, who ascribed their conduct, when
questioned about it, to sorcery, saying that the
missionary had bewitched them, so that they could
do nothing to him.

The termination of the Nicobar mission was a
truly melancholy one. The loss of go many valu-
able lives, and the entire failure of the object of the
mission, at length compelled the abandonment of
=
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SEEKING NESTS OF THE ESCULENT SWALLOW

page 18 9
AN AFFECTING FAREWELL. 19]

the project. “ Words cannot express,” exclaims
Haensel, as he tells the tale, “the painful sensa-
tions that filled my mind when I was taking my
last farewell of the inhabitants, who flocked to me
from all the adjacent islands. Their grief was very
affecting, as they wept and howled, begging that
the Brethren might soon return to them; for we
had always enjoyed their esteem and love, and had
always found them ready to serve us. When I
remembered the numberless prayers, sighs, and
tears offered up for the conversion of the poor hea-
then here, and beheld our burial-ground, where
eleven of my companions had their resting-place,
I burst into tears and exclaimed, “Surely all thig
cannot have been done in vain !”

 
 

son of Dr Humphrey Sibthorp, Professor
of Botany at Oxford, and was born in that
city in 1758. Being brought up to the
medical profession, he prosecuted his studies at
Edinburgh, where the taste he had early imbibed
for natural history, especially botany, was culti-
vated and increased. At the close of his academical
course he visited France and Switzerland, and
spent a considerable time at Montpelher, where he
communicated to the Academy des Sciences of
that town an account of his numerous botanical
discoveries in the neighbourhood, and was enrolled
a member of that society.

Having conceived the desire of visiting Greece
for the purpose of botanical investigation, he passed
part of the year 1784 at Gottingen, and afterwards
made the tour of Germany. Proceeding to Vienna,
he cultivated the friendship of the principal pro-
fessors of his favourite science there, studied with
A PLEASANT EXPEDITION. 193

peculiar care the celebrated manuscript of Dio-
scorides, so long preserved in the imperial library,
and secured the services of a most excellent
draughtsman, Mr I’. Bauer, to be the companion of
his projected expedition.

In 1786 they sailed from Naples to Crete, and
here, in the month of June, our botanical adven-
turers rejoicingly beheld Flora in her gayest attire: |
‘The snowy covering of the Sphaciote mountains
was withdrawing, and a tribe of lovely little blos-
soms were just peeping through the vale.” The
ensuing winter was spent by Dr S. at Constan-
tinople, and his residence there, and in the neigh-
bouring Isle of Karki, proved favourable to his
investigation of the fishes and birds of those re-
gions, by which he was enabled to throw much
light on the writings of ancient naturalists. In
the early spring he proceeded to Cyprus, where a
sojourn of five weeks enabled him to draw up a
Fauna and Flora of that island. The illustration
of the writings of Dioscorides in particular was a
principal object with him ; the names and reputed
virtues of several plants recorded by that ancient
writer, and still traditionally retained by the Athe-
nian shepherds, served occasionally to elucidate or
confirm their identity. The first sketch of the
Flora Greca comprised about 850 plants. ‘‘ This,”
said the author, ‘‘ may be considered as contain-
194 IN GREECE.

ing only the plants observed by me in the
environs of Athens, on the snowy heights of
the Grecian alp Parnassus, the steep precipices of
Delphis, the empurpled mountain of Hymettus,
the Pentele, the lower hills about the Pireeus, the
olive-grounds about Athens, and the fertile plains
of Beotia. My intention was to have travelled by
land through Greece; but the disturbed state of
this country, on the eve of a Russian war, the
rebellion of the Bashaws, and the plague at Larissa,
rendered my project impracticable.” Arrived at
Athens, in the month of June our botanist prose-
cuted his journeysin various directions and with
different success. The ascent of Mount Delphis,
in Negropont, in a storm of wind and rain, was one
of his most laborious if not perilous adventures ;
but his floral harvest was abundant. With regard
to scenery, Mount Athos, which he visited a week
alter, seems to have made most impression on
his mind. ‘This spot also greatly enriched his col-
lection of rare plants. J'rom thence he proceeded
to Thessalonia, Corinth, and Patras, at which last
place he embarked on board an English vessel, and,
after a tedious and stormy voyage arrived at Bristol
in the first week of December 1787.

On his return to his native land, Dr Sibthorp
was everywhere welcomed and admired for his
ardour, his talents, and his acquirements. His
A SECOND TOUR TO GREECE. 195

merits procured him the rank of Regius Professor
at Oxford; he became a Fellow of the Royal So-
ciety in 1789, and was among the first members
of the Linnean Society, founded in 1788. Yet,
though placed, a few years after his return, in very
affluent circumstances, and though his necessary
attention to his landed property and to agricul-
tural pursuits, of which he was passionately fond,
might have been expected in some measure to turn
him aside from his botanical labours, he steadily
persisted in the pursuit of his chosen object, to
which he finally sacrificed life itself. ‘ No name,”
says his biographer, Sir James Edward Smith, “ has
a fairer claim to botanical immortality among the
martyrs of the science than that of Sibthorp.”

In the month of March 1794 he again set out
from London, on his second tour to Greece. He
travelled to Constantinople in the train of Mr
Liston, ambassador to the Porte, and was accom-
panied by Francis Borone, a Milanese servant, as a
botanical assistant. They reached the Turkish
capital in the month of May, where they were
joined by Mr Hawkins, a friend of Dr Sibthorp’s.
Writing to Sir J. EK. Smith from Pera, under date
August 9, the Doctor says: “I arrived very ill
with fever and colic; but, as soon as my health
permitted, I visited the shores of the Bosphorus,

the woods of Belgrade, and the sands of Domusderi,
(352) 13
196 THE “ LABIA BARBATA.”

on the Black Sea. I have noticed nearly 800 plants
about Byzantium. . . . I often go upon the
Bosphorus, while the dolphins play around me.
Gulls here are so tame that they sit upon the roofs
of houses like pigeons. The Procellaria puffinus
is constantly flying up and down the canal; they
call them here by the emphatic name of ‘ souls of
the damned.’ While I was reading in the palace
garden the other day, a vulture, Percnopterus,
perched in the tree hanging over my head, and I
could not resist, not having the fear of the Egyp-
tians before my eyes, shooting it. The summer
has been very hot and dry; there are few insects
at present, except scorpions, mosquitoes, bugs, and
others, happy accompaniments of this happy cli-
mate. ‘he chase of the entomologist was almost
over about a month since. Ihad finesport. I write
in good health and spirits, for yesterday my friend
arrived, and to-day my baggage, having run ‘ per
varios casus, et tot discrimina rerum. Hawkins is
in high preservation ; his appearance differs only
from having the labia barbata—huge moustaches,
which he is nursing for a Syrian and Egyptian tour.
We are going together into Thessaly, Attica, and
the Peleponnesus, and shall winter at Zante.”

In pursuance of this plan, they visited various
parts of Asia Minor, and on the 15th October
arrived at Athens, from whence Dr Sibthorp wrote
A MELANCHOLY FATE. 197

again to his friend, communicating the melancholy
intelligence of the death of his unfortunate at-
tendant, Borone. “He had quite recovered,” says
the letter, “from an attack of illness, and on the
evening of his melancholy fate was unusually gay,
singing to a tune that Arakiel, Mr Hawkins’ ser-
vant, played upon the guitar. Shortly after mid-
night we were awakened by the cries of Francesco,
who had fallen into the street out of the window
of the chamber where he slept. On the servants
going down to him, he languishingly groaned to
Arakiel, who was the first that reached him, ‘Ah,
povero Hrancesco € morto!’ and presently after
expired. We have every reason to think he was
walking in his sleep. . . . . The next day, at
evening, he was buried at the Church of the Ma-
donna, under the shade of a mulberry-tree. The
obsequies were performed in a very decent manner
by four Greek priests, who chanted over him the
burial service. . . . . The archbishop, who a
few days before had expressed the strongest obliga-
tions to the English nation, pitifully sent a papas
to demand 50 piastres (about L.12) for his permis-
sion to bury him. Yielding to the remonstrances
of the consul, he withdrew his preposterous claim,
but has since intimated that he would be glad of a
present. We mean to send him a Greek Testa-
ment, that a metropclitan, who has four suffragans,
L98 IN TITE MOREA.

may read a lesson of piety. I most sincerely regret
the distressing end of this poor youth. He had
escaped from the thieves of Italy and from the in-
hospitable climate of Sierra Leone. He had been
with me blocked up eight days by pirates at Mont
Athos. Poor fellow! he was then very anxious to
hide my money, that we might have something,
he said, to return home with.”

This painful event so much affected the spirits
of Dr Sibthorp, that he was for some days after
incapable of any exertion, even his journal being
suspended. ‘The two friends afterwards wintered
at Zante, where our botanist was fortunate enough
to procure, from an apothecary resident there, an
ample and rich herbarium of the plants of the
island, with their modern Greek names. The sea-
son was sufficiently favourable, in the middle of
February 1795, to allow the travellers to proceed
to the Morea, of which they made the complete
circuit in rather more than two months. Here
‘‘the violet and primrose welcomed them in the
plains of Arcadia; and the Narcissus tazzetta, which
Dr Sibthorp was disposed to think the true poetic
Narcissus, decorated in profusion the banks of the
Alpheus. The barbarian horde, under whose escort
they were obliged to travel, showed sufficient taste
to gather nosegays of these sweet flowers. The
oaks of the Arcadian mountains presented them
AT HERMIONE. 199

with the true mistletoe, Loranthus ewropeeus, which
still serves to make birdlime, whilst our misseltoe,
Viscus album, in Greece grows only on the silver
fir, Screaming among these ancient oaks was the
jay, still called by its ancient name; and the water-
ouzel, flying along the rocky sides of the Alpine
rivulets of Arcadia, was regarded as probably the
white blackbird, which Aristotle says is peculiar to
the neighbourhood of Cyllene.” But, amidst these
varied floral and ornithological riches, our travellers
looked in vain for the beauty of Arcadian shep-
herdesses, and listened equally in vain for the pipe
of the sylvan swain. Owing to the oppression
of the Government, many of these poor people
were driven to lead a precarious and predatory life
among the mountains.

At Hermione, now called Castri, in the Argolic
peninsula, famous for the purple dye anciently
prepared there, they found a vast pile of the shells
from which that dye was obtained, and still de-
nominated porphyri, the species being the Murex
trunculus of Linneus. From this place they re-
turned by land to Argos, whence they proceeded
to complete their tour, and, after various adven-
tures, arrived again at Zante on the 29th April.
There Dr Sibthorp parted from his faithful com-
panion, whom he was destined never to see again.
Mr Hawkins returned to Greece while his friend
200 DEATH OF SIBTHORP.

proceeded to Otranto, which he reached alter a
long and uncomfortable passage of twenty-four
days, during which he suffered so much exposure
and illness as to originate that disorder under
which, in a few short months, he sank to the grave.
Being obliged by the weather to put in at the little
island of Fanno, the N.E. wind, as he touchingly
said, “nursed his cough and fever.’ He was con-
fined to his bed in a miserable hovel; and after
frequent attempts to sail, he was driven back six
times by the unfavourable wind.

In the autumn of 1795 he reached England, and
died at Bath on the 8th February 1796, in the
thirty-eighth year of hisage. This ardent botanist
and estimable man deserves to rank among the
most ilustrious patrons of his favourite science,
not only for his labours during life, but for the
posthumous benefits he conferred upon it. By his
will he gave an estate in Oxfordshire to the Uni-
versity of Oxford, for the purpose of publishing his
flora Greeca in ten folio volumes, with 100 coloured
plates in each, and an edition of the same work in
octavo, without plates.

The task of editing the work was confided to the
illustrious president of the Linnean Society, who
completed six of the volumes, and the last was
published, after his death, by Mr R. Brown.
 
 
   
  

   
 

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HE lively pages of the Abbé Domenech’s
Adventures in Texas and Mexico contain
some anecdotes in which the vivacious

' young priest reminds one of the sallies

of that renowned traveller and naturalist, Mr

Waterton: for example, his picture of 4 Croco-

dile Hunt, which it is impossible to read without

catching some of the spirit of adventure which it
breathes.

Being reduced to very short fare, at one period
of the mission, he says :—‘‘ That we might enjoy
the luxury of a little fresh meat from time to time,
we fattened cats, which I subsequently metamor-
phosed into most delicious fricassees. The chase,
too, was made to contribute to the maintenance of
our table. Whenever there were any pieces of
small money in our round snuff-box, which was
our iron-safe, and which in that capacity received

  
202 SHOOTING WILD TURKEYS.

all presents of our parishioners, I laid out a portion
of it in the purchase of powder and shot to be em-
ployed in shooting wood-quests and squirrels. One
Thursday, when our treasure amounted to ten sous,
and the children had a holiday, J provided myself
with ammunition, and started in company with
Charles, a young French gentleman and a keen
sportsman, to shoot wild turkeys on the picturesque
banks of the Medina. After beating the copses
and brushwood to the utter destruction of our
clothes and hands, we failed to start a single bird.
Seeing this, my companion directed his attention
to coveys of partridges which whizzed past us at
every step, while I continued my way along the
rivers edge picking my steps with great caution,
lest I should tread on rattlesnakes or congos,—
hideous black serpents, extremely dangerous, which
abound in the neighbourhood of watercourses. I
arrived at length at a bend of the river where the
water calmly reposed under the shadow of enor-
mous fig trees. Athwart the foliage, the sun’s rays
gilded the parti-coloured water lilies which formed
the framework of this sparkling mirror. The chase
was soon forgotten, and whilst I stood admiring
this lovely spot, the leaves of the water lilies were
agitated, and I observed them disappear, and form,
as it were, a pathway under the water. It at once
occurred to me that some large fish was taking his
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SHOOTING A CROUCCUDILE
A CROCODILE HUNT. 203

promenade through this delicious aquatic garden,
when suddenly I recognised the bony, dark brown
back of a crocodile. Immediately I resolved on
killing this creature, with a view to increase our
stock of provisions. Being provided with small
shot only, I charged the gun heavily with it, in the
earnest hope that the animal would turn the side
of his head towards me. I raised the gun to my
shoulder and stood ready to fire. But, whether it
were il luck, or that the crocodile suspected danger,
so it was that he only exposed the front of his
head. At length, however, he made the desired
move: I fired, and he disappeared under water.
Have I missed him? No. Something comes up
to the surface. I leaped for joy on perceiving that
it was the crocodile’s belly. In truth I was very
proud. This animal is so hideous that I had no
pity for him. I called aloud for my companion,
who, fearing some accident had occurred, ran to
me with all haste, and fully shared my delight at
the sight of this enormous piece of game, which
floated like a mass of wood on the surface of the
water. Still our task was only half done; it re-
mained to secure the prize. The river, on issuing
from the basin, became very narrow and rapid: our
enormous prey floated down with the current, very
slowly, to be sure, but, should it once reach this
narrow spot, it was entirely lost tous. The basin
904 DRAWING HIM ASHORE.

was very deep and we durst not venture in, as
neither of us could swim. Quite undecided as to
how we should manage, and filled with disagreeable
misgivings, we followed the motion of the crocodile
with anxious minds. Tortunately a piece of tree
which floated down before it arrived crosswise,
stopped, and arrested the progress of the animal.
Time was thus afforded to consider what was best
to be done.

“We proceeded to cut a long thick liane, which
was to be our harpoon, and having advanced into
the water up to the waist, I cast it over the croco-
dile’s back (which was now again uppermost), and
by this means we drew him to the bank. All at
once his tail commenced lashing our legs! Off we
set at the top of our speed, uttering cries of horror
the while. We fancied that those jaws of eighteen
inches, and armed with sixty-seven long sharp
teeth, were at our heels. At length we stopped.
‘Sure as a gun, said I, ‘he is dangerously
wounded; and these movements of his tail are
either the last convulsions of life, or merely the
agitation of the water, which we set in motion.
This tail, too, was a matter of serious reflection to
me. Report said it was excellent for culinary pur-
poses ; 1t would serve therefore to save, in a very
satisfactory way, our stock of dried and smoked
meat. Having recharged my rifle we returned,
DEAD AT LAST. 205

but the crocodile had not moved. I fired point-
blank into his eye and under the shoulder, not
indeed without trembling a little. He was dead
at last; there could be no doubt of it now. In
length he measured ten feet, and in circumference
round the middle four feet. We abandoned him
for the moment, half sunk in water and mud, with
his belly turned up to the sun, and off we started
for Castroville to procure assistance and announce
our exploit. Although crocodiles are not rare in
the Medina, they are very seldom killed ; the news
created quite a sensation in town, and a waggon
set out without delay, accompanied by as gay and
uproarlous a procession as one can well imagine.
The distance was six miles ; and, though killed in
the morning, it did not reach our garden until the
evening. . . . The cooking of it was a real
féte. It is only the fleshy portions of the tail that
are eaten. We distributed it liberally. The flesh
did not strike me as well flavoured; it was but
too evident that the animal had lain in the mud
during the hottest part of the day. There also
emanated from it a powerful odour of musk, which
destroyed our appetites, and remained in our clothes
for more than a week afterwards.”

Here is the Abbé’s portrait of An Hnthusiastic
Naturalist. . . . ‘He was an old German
priest, who officiated in Braunfels and the neigh-
206 AN ENTHUSIASTIC NATURALIST.

bouring colonies at that time. Although almost
blind, he took it into his head to travel on foot
from Braunfels to Fredericksburg for the purpose
of collecting scientific curiosities along the way.
He started one fine morning, his only baggage
being a double pair of spectacles stuck on his nose,
a tin box slung from his shoulders, and some pro-
visions. The first day of his journey his box was
filled with rare plants, and his pockets crammed
with mineralogical specimens, while his hat was
covered with insects, fastened to it with pins. As
he had killed a great many serpents of large size,
he knotted them together, and coiled them round
his body. The next day, again, he killed a rattle-
snake, seven or eight feet in length, which he also
wound round his body, and which served him as a
belt. On he went in this most grotesque attire,
never for a moment thinking of the picturesque
and startling effect he must produce on the minds
of those who should meet him. Never relaxing in
his search for some new object to add to his varie-
gated accoutrements, and keeping his eyes con-
tinually on the ground, he was near marching into
the midst of a body of Comanches, who were deer-
hunting at the time. This walking collection of
plants, insects, and reptiles, which advanced majes-
tically towards them, so terrified them that they
fled panic-stricken as from a supernatural appa-
MOST GROTESQUE ATTIRE. 207

rition. The third day our friend had consumed all
his provisions, and finding only a little fruit in the
woods, was beginning to feel the cravings of hun-
ger, when he descried columns of smoke proceed-
ing from a clearing. He at once turned his steps
in that direction. Some redskins had pitched
their camp on the spot, but, at the sight of this
strange pedestrian, they began to yell, and prepared
at once for flight. The worthy man employed the
most significant signs for arresting their flight and
tranquillising their fears, and succeeded in the end
in making them understand he was dying of
hunger. The Indians, not daring to offend the
unknown divinity, tremblingly placed before him
coffee, maize, and some mule’s flesh, which he ate
with great avidity, and hke a starved mortal.
His meal gave him strength enough to reach
Fredericksburg, which he did on the third day
without accident.”

The Abbé himself seems, among his various ac-
complishments, to have dabbled in natural history ;
and he tells us that a collection of minerals and
curious animals constituted his principal riches.
In this repertory might be seen a centipede 11
inches long, and a caterpillar 18 inches in length
and 2 in circumference. As for serpents, he had
them of all sizes and of every variety! ‘Selection
was easy, as they were everywhere underfoot, and
208 A GREAT ACQUISITION.

people walked upon them and crushed them with-
out paying any attention to the fact. ‘The business
of destroying them was left to the pigs, the cats,
and even the fowls. They fell resolutely on the
head of the reptile and devoured it, without feeling
any evil result.”

At Quihi, a tiger-hunter killed a rattlesnake,
which he had mistaken for a dead tree. It mea-
sured 17 feet in length, 18 inches in circumference,
and was furnished with twenty-five rings or rattles.
One day the Abbé’s companion went to the barn
for some maize and took up a serpent in his hand,
mistaking it for a blade of corn; another day a
cobra de capello glided into the school-room, and
was on the point of biting one of the children,
when it was killed by the priest with a blow of a
stick. A horse they possessed was one evening
missing, and they set out to search forhim. Night
was coming on apace, and, after a long hunt, the
animal was still non est inventus. ‘“ All at once,”
the Abbé says, ‘‘I perceived at my feet, and gliding
from under the grass where he had lain concealed,
a rattlesnake of about two yards in length. I was
about to take to my heels, when I bethought me
that this serpent captured alive would be a great
acquisition to my collection of reptiles, or, other-
wise, his skin would make a grand pair of slippers
for my mother. Quick as thought I rushed upon
BRINGING IT HOME. 209

him and knocked him senseless with a large clod
of earth ; I then tied a cord tightly round his neck,
and the horse being meantime found, we retraced
our steps to the town, my companion with the
horse and I with the rattlesnake, which began by
degrees to recover his strength in a most alarming
manner, making the air resound with the noise of
his rattles, and dragging my arms about by his
strong and rapid writhings. I durst not let go my
hold for fear of being bitten ; the efforts, therefore,
which I made to retain him, together with the
alarm, threw me into a state of great agitation.
However, I arrived safely at last, and tied the ser-
pent to a bench, keeping down his head with my
foot during the operation. Next day we were
three at dinner; our bill of fare included no more
than three eggs. What was to be done? I pro-
posed that we should cook the serpent: my col-
league approved the idea, remarking, ‘ that if the
flesh be good we shall in future have wherewith
to satisfy our appetites, nay, even to exceed the
bounds of moderation, should we be so inclined !’
‘“ Accordingly, I summoned to my aid all the
culinary skill I possessed to dress the serpent,
and in a very short time it appeared on the table
stripped of its skin, minus the head and tail, cut
into small pieces, gritted and well spiced with
cayenne pepper. The new dish seemed palatable
210 THE CLERK AND THE SERPENT.

enough, tasting somewhat of frogs and tortoise,
but our natural repugnance to it was unconquer-
able; the idea of eating a serpent shocked our
stomachs too much!’

On one occasion, during the service of the mass,
the old sacristan, who had been a schoolmaster in
his time, acted as clerk; he was a little old man,
wearing enormous spectacles, which prevented him
from seeing. All at once, as he was moving the
book from one side of the altar to the other, he
felt something creep up between his legs, and look-
ing down saw a snake. It was a royal serpent,
a harmless reptile of great beauty, which had its
nest under the altar. As soon as the poor sacris-
tan perceived it, he commenced screaming at the —
top of his voice, and dancing about from side to
side, all the while pommelling the unlucky serpent
with the missal; at length he succeeded in making
it relax its hold, when it darted for safety into its
nest beneath the altar.

In the course of his travels M. the Abbé occa-
sionally gleaned curious facts relative to the natural
phenomena he observed. For example :—On one
of his excursions he came upon a crevasse—one of
those openings which the Mississippi and its tribu-
taries effect in their embankments, and through
which their waters rush and devastate the plain.
Thousands of negroes were at work up to the waist
HOW ARE THE CREVASSES MADE 2 O11

in mud, striving to stop up the crevasse with fas-
cines, branches of trees, and a kind of hemp, made
of a parasite plant, called barbe d’ Espagnol, which
hangs pendant from the trees in long tendrils.
This plant destroys the trees to which it clings, by
absorbing all their sap. When dried, the natives
use it for stuffing mattresses. A little further on,
crossing the Mississippi again, our traveller came
upon another very broad crevasse. ‘These crevasses
(he says) form, in many instances, deep and
dangerous marshes. Willit be believed that the
one of which I am speaking was attributed to
crabs? No doubt crabs are in myriads in this
spot; still, comparing the cause with the effect,
the mystery seems inexplicable. The explanation
given me by a young creole, who was with me at
the time, was this: the crabs make tubular holes
in the earth, which, when prolonged, pierce the
embankment. Through the hole thus formed a
small quantity of water issues, which the pressure
of the river increases at every instant. ‘Should
two of the holes be in juxtaposition, the water by
degrees wears away the earth between them, and
in a short time throws them both into one;
and the volume of water being thus increased, en-
larges its narrow channel, rushes into other crab-
holes, until at length the bank is completely de-

stroyed, and out rushes a river which inundates the
(352) 14
212 A ILONEY ANT.

plain. During the day negroes are employed in
destroying the nests of crabs, and hence these
occurrences begin ordinarily during the night.
But the crevasse in question was so broad and
deep, that they were obliged to wait for the waters
to diminish before they could repair it. We could
not cross it on horseback, so we had recourse to a
boat.”

At another time, when at Matamoros, an Ameri-
can named Langstroth showed him, in a glass
vessel, some small vesicles, about the size and shape
of a raisin-grape, which he said were the produc-
tions of a honey ant; he was told that, in the state
of Tomaulipos, in a valley little known, there were
found ants of enormous size, which make honey
sweeter even than that of the wild bee; they con-
tinue half buried in the earth, while others of the
same family feed them during the time they make
the honey. This honey is formed in a vesicle ad-
hering to the ant; and when the vesicle is full, the
insect dies. The honey the Abbé saw in the
vesicles shown him was of the colour and trans-
parence of a beautiful topaz of Brazil. The ant is
said to resemble the ordinary ant. He inquired
in vain for further details, but the existence of the
insect was so little known that he could never suc-
ceed in learning more about it.

Before taking leave of this animated and enter-
NIGHT IN A TROPICAL CLIME. 213

taining writer, I will add two pleasant pictures he
has drawn of the beauties of the night and the
morning dawn in this tropical clime:—“‘I could
not sleep. Over my head I saw glittering those
myriads of stars that I so often gazed upon with
admiration during my peregrinations. Among the
constellations I looked out for the shepherd, which
in my boyhood in France I loved so to gaze upon,
when nature, shrouded in the mysterious veil of
twilight, had only this solitary star twinkling over-
head to hghtits track. The palm branches beneath
which I lay gently vibrated in the air; the tem-
perate breeze, breathing gently as it came, em-
balmed by the sweet odours of the woodland flowers,
carolled in the distance, while it imparted to the
sycamore leaves a voice of song strange and full
of harmony, resembling the melancholy sighs of
many Atolian harps. I breathed these evening
perfumes with the utmost delight, and hstened
attentively to the languishing murmurs of leaf and
breeze, cut short at intervals by the plaintive cry |
of the widow-bird, as she hopped from tree to tree.
At length I fell asleep, wrapt in golden dreams.”
Here is the day-dawn: ‘Its first faint colouring
put to flight my slumbers. A penetrating odour
filled the wood; the vanilla, the pachuli, the jessa-
mine, the ebony-tree, and thousands of wild vines
saturated the morning breeze with delicious per-
914 A PICTURE OF DAWN.

fumes. The blustering voice of the cardinal, the
languishing coo of the turtle, the sad, sweet, moan
of the blue bird, the song of the bird of paradise
and the mocker, formed a charming medley of
clear and plaintive notes. A light dew had strewn
on the leaves of the trees and plants a thousand
liquid pearls, which refracted the pure bright ray
into its prismatic colours. These perfumes, this
gentle air, these sweet songs, and these brilliant
hues, did indeed make me happy. This fresh
awakening of nature conveyed to my soul a feeling
of undefined bliss, a vague happiness, which ex-
ceeded all the joys of earth, while it raised my
thoughts towards heaven.”

 
 

Captain Maye Meid and the Quicksand.

 

(ANY romantic stories have been told by
travellers of the sagacity, attachment, and
instinct displayed by their favourite
steeds; but none, perhaps, has surpassed
one related by Captain Mayne Reid.

That adventurous traveller was journeying in
Mexico, on his way to Santa Ié: he had pushed
forward with a small party ahead of the caravan
by which they were accompanied, desirous to reach
the capital a few days in advance of the waggons. |
The route they took lay, for a hundred miles or so,
through a barren desert, without game and almost
without water. The buffalo had all disappeared,
and deer were equally scarce. They were obliged
to content themselves with the dried meat which
they had brought with them, now and then looking
wistfully after a stray antelope which bounded
away from them, keeping far out of range. On
the third day after leaving the caravan, the Captain

  
216 AN ANTELOPE CHASE.

thought he saw a pronged head disappearing be-
hind a swell in the prairie. Ilis companions were
sceptical, and none of them would go with him in
chase. He therefore, wheeling out of trail, started
alone, leaving his dog in charge of a comrade, lest
he should alarm the antelopes. The horse was
fresh and willing, and his master knew that,
whether successful or no, he would easily be able
to overtake the party by camping-time.

He struck directly toward the spot where he had
seen the object of his pursuit. He supposed it to
be about half a mile or so from the trail; it proved
more distant—a common illusion in the crystal at-
mosphere of those upland regions. A curiously
formed ridge traversed the plain from cast to west,
a thicket of cactus covering part of its summit. To-
wards this thicket his course was bent, and, arrived
at the slope, he dismounted, and leading his horse
silently up among the cactus plants, ticd him to
one of their branches. He then cautiously crept
toward the spot where he fancied he had scen the
game. Nor was he mistaken; not one antelope,
but a brace of those beautiful animals was quietly
grazing beyond; but, alas! too far ofl for the carry
of a rifle. They were fully 300 yards distant,
upon a smooth, grassy slope. There was not even
asage bush near to form acover. What was te
be done P
WITHIN RANGE. } 917°

After turning over in his mind several alter- |
natives, the Captain was still undecided, when, all |
at once, his eye rested upon a clay-coloured line
running across the prairie where the animals were -
feeding. It was a break in the plain, a buffalo.
road, or the channel of a water-course ; in either
case the very cover that was wanted, for the ante- |
lopes were not a hundred yards from it, and were
approaching towards it as they fed. .

Creeping back out of the thicket, the eager
huntsman now ran along the side of the slope to-
ward a point where he had noticed the ridge was
depressed to the prairie level. Here, to his sur-
prise, he found himself on the banks of a broad
streamlet, whose water, clear and shallow, ran_
slowly over a bed of sand and gypsum. The banks
were low, not more than three feet above the sur-
face of the water, except where the ridge advanced
over the stream. Here there was a high bluff, and
hurrying round its base he entered the channel,
and commenced wading upward. As he anticipated,
he soon came to a bend, where the stream, after run-
ning parallel to the ridge, swept round and passed
through it. At this place he stopped, and peeped
cautiously over the bank. The antelopes had ap-
proached within less than rifle reach of the stream,
but they were still far above the position he had
gained, and again bending down he waded on. _
218 A PAINFUL SCENE.

It was no easy task; the bed of the creck was
soft and yielding, and he was compelled to tread
slowly and silently lest he should alarm the game,
but he was cheered in his exertions by the prospect
of fresh venison for supper. After a weary drag of
several hundred yards, he came opposite to a small
clump of wormwood-bushes growing out of the
bank. “I may be high enough,” he thought ;
‘these will serve for cover.”

Raising his body gradually, he looked through
the leaves. He was in the right spot; and bring-
ing his rifle to a level he fired at the buck. The
animal sprang from the ground and fell back life-
less. The Captain was about to rush forward and
secure the prize, when he observed the doe, instead
of running off, as he had expected, go up to her
fallen partner and press her tapering nose to his
body. She was near enough for him plainly to see
that her look was one of bewilderment and inquiry.
All at once she seemed to comprehend the fatal
truth, and, throwing back her head, commenced
uttering the most piteous cries, at the same time
running in circles around the body.

The sight was too much for the compassionate
feelings of Captain Reid. “ Had I dreamed,’ he
says, “of witnessing this painful spectacle I should
not have left the trai. But the mischief was now
done. ‘I have worse than killed ler, I thought
A TERRIBLE SITUATION. 219

‘it will be better to despatch her at once ;” and,
with a faltering hand, I again levelled the piece
and fired. My nerves were steady enough to do
the work. When the smoke floated aside I could
see the little creature bleeding upon the grass, her
head resting upon the body of her murdered mate.”
Shouldering his rifle, he was about to move for-
- ward, when, to his amazement, he found himself
caught by the feet; held firmly, as if his legs had
been in a vice. He made an effort to extricate
himself; another, more violent and equally unsuc-
cessful, and, with a third, lost his balance and fell
back upon the water. Half suffocated, he regained
his upright position, but only to find that he was
held as fast as ever. Again he struggled to free
his limbs. He could neither move them backward
nor forward, to the right nor the left, and he be-
came sensible that he was gradually going down.
The fearful truth flashed upon him—he was sink-
ing in a quicksand! A feeling of horror came over
the hapless prisoner, as, with a feeling of despe-
ration, he renewed his efforts, leaning to one side,
then to the other, almost wrenching his knees from
their sockets. His feet, despite all, remained as
fast as ever. He could not move an inch!
- He has thus thrillingly narrated the issue.
“The soft, clingy sand already overtopped my
lorse-skin boots, wedging them around my ancles
220 STILL SINKING.

so that I was unable to draw them off, and I could
feel that I was still sinking slowly but surcly, as
though some subterraneous monster was Icisurely
dragging me down. ‘This very thought caused me
a thrill of horror, and I called aloud for help. To
whom ? There was no one within miles of me—no
living thing. Yes! the neigh of my horse an-
swered me from the hill, mocking me in my
despair.

‘‘T bent forward as well as my constrained position
would admit, and, with frenzied fingers, commencd
tearing up the sand. I could barely reach the sur-
face, and the little hollow I was able to make filled
up almost as soon as it had been formed. A thought
occurred tome. My rifle might support me, placed
horizontally. I looked for it. It was not to be
seen ; it had sunk beneath the sand. Could I throw
my body flat, and prevent myself from sinking
deeper? No; the water was two feet in depth, and
I should drown at once! This last hope left me as
soon as formed. I could think of no plan to save
myself; I could make no further effort. A strange
stupor seized upon me. My very thouglits became
paralyzed. For a moment I wag mad.

“ After an interval mysenses returned. I made an
effort to rouse my mind from its paralysis, in order
that I might meet death, which I now believed
to he inevitable, asa man should. TI raised mnyseli.
THE LAST SIGHT OF EARTH. 221

My eyes had sunk to the prairie level, and rested
upon the still bleeding victims of my cruelty. My
heart smote me at the sight. Raising my eyes to
heaven, I gazed upward with earnestness known
only to the hearts of men in positions of peril like
mine. As I continued to look up, an object attracted
my attention. Against the sky I distinguished the
outline of a large bird. I knew it to be the obscene
bird of the plains, the buzzard-vulture. Whence had
it come? Who knows? Far beyond the reach of
human eye, it had seen or scented the slaughtered
antelopes, and on broad, silent wing was now de-
scending to the feast of death. Presently another,
and another, and many others, mottled the blue
field of the heavens, curving and wheeling silently
earthward. Then the foremost swooped down upon
the bank, and, after gazing round for a moment,
flapped off toward its prey. In a few seconds the
prairie was black with filthy birds, who clambered
over the dead antelopes, and beat their wings
against each other, while they tore out the eyes of
the quarry with their foetid beaks. . .

“TI was soon relieved from the sight. My eyes
had sunk below the level of the bank. I had
looked my last on the fair green earth! I could
now sce only the clayey wall that contained the
river and the water, that ran, unheeding, past me.
Once more I fixed my gaze upon the sky, and, with
299, FRUITLESS STRUGGLES.

prayerful heart, endeavoured to resign mysclf to
my fate. But, in spite of my endcavours to be
calm, the memories of earthly pleasures, and friends
aud home, came over me, causing me at intervals
to break into wild paroxysms, and make fresh
though fruitless struggles. Again I was attracted
by the neighing of my horse. At the sound, a
thought entered my mind, filing me with fresh
hope. ‘Perhaps my horse’-—I[ lost not a moment.
I raised my voice to its highest pitch, and called
the animal by name. I knew that he would come
at my call. I had tied him but shghtly; the cactus
limb would snap off. Again I called, repeating
words that were well known to him. TI listened
with a bounding heart. For a moment there was
silence, then I heard the quick sounds of his hoof,
as though the animal was rearing and struggling
to free himself; then I could distinguish the stroke
of his heels in a measured and regular gallop.
Nearer came the sounds, nearer and clearer, till the
gallant brute bounded out on the bank above me.
There he halted, and, flinging back his tossed
mane, uttered a shrill neigh. He was bewildered,
and looked upon every side, snorting loudly. I
knew that, having once seen me, he would not stop
until he had pressed his nose against my check:
for this was his usual custom. Holding ont my
hands, I again uttered the magic words. Now,
A STRANGE DELIVERANCE. 223

looking downward, he perceived me, and, stretching
himself, sprang out into the channel. The next
moment I held him by the bridle. There was no
time to be lost; I was still going down, and my
arm-pits were fast nearing the surface of the quick-
sand. I caught the lariat, and, passing it under
the saddle-girths, fastened it in a knot, tight and
firm. J then looped the trailing end, making it
secure around my body. I had left enough of the
rope between the bit-ring and the girths to enable
me to check and guide the animal, in case the drag
upon my body should be too painful.

‘All this while the dumb brute seemed to compre-
hend what I was about. He knew, too, the nature
of the ground on which he stood; for, during the
operation, he kept lifting his feet alternately, to
prevent himself from sinking. My arrangements
were at length completed, and, with a feeling of
terrible anxiety, I gave my horse the signal to
move forward. Instead of going off with a start,
the intelligent creature stepped away slowly, as
though he understood my situation. The lariat
tightened; I felt my body moving, and the next
moment experienced a wild delight, a feeling I
cannot describe, as I found myself dragged out of
the sand. I sprang to my feet with a shout of joy.
I rushed up to my steed, and throwing my arms
around his neck, embraced him with delight. He
994 A LEERO.

answered my caress with a low whimper, which
told me that I was understood. I looked for my
rifle. Fortunately it had not sunk deep, and I soon
found it. My boots were left behind, but I stayed
not to look for them, being smitten with a dread
of the place in which I had left them. I was not
long in retreating from the banks; and mounting,
I galloped back to the trail. It was sunset before
[ reached the camp, where I was met by the
inquiries of my companions, to whom I related my
adventure; and for that night I was the hero cf
our camp-fire.”

 
 

jJertlons Adventure of Rishopy Stanley
IN AN ALPINE PASS.

‘* Meek dwellers ’mid yon terror-stricken cliffs,
With brows so pure, and incense-breathing lips,
Whence came ye? Did some white-winged messenger,
On mercy’s missions, trust your timid germs
To the cold cradle of eternal snows;
Or, breathing on the callous icicles,
Bid them wlth teardrops nurse ye?

Man, who, panting, toils

O'er slippery steeps, or, trembling, treads the verge
Of yawning gulfs, o’er which the headlong plunge
Into eternity, looks shuddering up,
And marks ye, in your placid loveliness ;
Fearless, yet frail, and clasping his chill hands,
Dlesses your pencilled beauty.”

‘T might have been supposed these elegant
stanzas of Mrs Sigourney’s, on “ Alpine
_ Flowers” had been written to comme-

 

morate the striking adventure of “ The
Mauvais Pas,” as recorded by Bishop Stanley, who
published it nearly thirty years ago in Blackwood’s
Magazime. Probably not many of my readers have
read his romantic narrative, which affords some

admirable illustrations of the courageous spirit and —
926 A DREARY SCENE.

descriptive powers of the writer, and contains a
peautiful incident, evincing his ardent love of
flowers. What student of natural history among
us that does not feel he owes a debt of gratitude
to the author of that charming book, ‘“ A Familiar
History of Birds”—one of the most attractive and
entertaining works on ornithology we possess? I
am persuaded that all who have delighted them-
selves over its pages will read with interest this
narrative of his personal adventures.

It was in the year 1818 that the Bishop (then
Mr Stanley) arrived in the village of Martigny, a
few days after that memorable catastrophe when,
by the bursting of its icy mounds, the extensive
lake of Mauvoisin was in an instant let loose,
pouring forth six hundred millions of cubic feet
of water over the peaceful and fruitful valley of
the Drance, with the irresistible velocity of sixteen
miles an hour, and carrying before its overwhelm-
ing torrent every vestige of civilised life which
stood within its impetuous reach. The whole vil-
lage and its environs exhibited a dreary scene of
death and desolation; and the traveller found it
impossible to contemplate the effects consequent
upon so awful a visitation without a corresponding
excitement of strong curiosity to follow the devas-
tation to its source, and learn from personal inspec-
tion the mode in which Nature had carried on and
A FATIGUING EXCURSION. 227

completed her dreadful operations. Accordingly,
having ascertained that, although the regular
roads, bridgeways, and pathways were carried
away, a circuitous course over the mountains was
practicable to the very foot of the glaciers of Mont
Pleureur, which impended over the mouth of the
Lac de Getroz, he determined to make the attempt.
During the first day’s journey nothing of particular
importance occurred. The early dawn of the
second morning found our traveller, accompanied
by two guides mounted on horseback, and prepared
for an excursion, which, under the most favourable
circumstances, must be long and fatiguing. For
the first three or four hours the road lay sometimes
along plains, sometimes along heights, presenting a
succession of striking objects among the wildest im-
aginable exhibitions of mountain scenery. At length
the party descended into a valley of considerable
extent, affording a flat platform of what had once
been meadow land, but was then a wide plain,
on whose surface, in every direction, were scattered
in wild confusion, rocks and stones, and uprooted
trees of all dimensions, deposited by the torrent,
which had returned to its original channel, through
which it was roaring over a bed of broken granite,
forming a sort of loose and coarse shingle. This
valley, though unconfined towards the west, was

apparently closed in towards the east, immediately
(352) 15
298 A DANGEROUS ROUTE.

in their route, by a stupendous barrier of precipi-
tous rock, as if a mountain, impending over the
river on the right, had shot forth one of its mighty
arms, for the purpose of arresting the waters in
their progress. On drawing nearer, however, a
fissure, extending from the summit to the base,
through the very heart of the rock, was perceptible,
through which the river rushed in a more confined
channel. It was evident that, unless they could
pass onwards through this fissure, there was no
alternative but to return. As they approached,
the guides evinced considerable anxiety, casting
anxious looks at certain blocks of stone embedded
in small pools detached from the main current of
the stream.

“The waters are higher than they were yester-
day,” said one.

‘And are rising at this moment,” replied his
comrade, who was carefully watching the smooth
side of one of the detached blocks, half-filling the
calm and unruffled surface of one these diminutive
lakes. And again, with scrutinising eyes, they
looked towards the fissure.

“Shall we be able to stem the torrent in yonder
spot ?” asked the traveller,

“ We hope so,” they hastily answered ; “but not
a moment must be lost.” And suiting the action
to the word, their horses were spurred on at full
A MAGNIFICENT SCENE. 229

trot, the eyes of the guides being intently fixed on
something evidently in or near the river. One of
the men now asked Mr Stanley if he saw a dark
speck at the foot of the left-hand precipice; and
being answered in the affirmative,

‘‘ Monsieur,” said he, “the waters are rising
rapidly by the increased melting of the snows; and
if that dark stone is covered when we reach the
fissure, our passage through the torrent will be
hazardous, if not impracticable.”

From that instant the fragment was eagerly
watched ; but instead of becoming more marked
and visible as 11 was more nearly approached, it
diminished in size, and, notwithstanding every
effort to urge on the horses, it soon dwindled to a
speck, and was almost immediately after entirely
lost under the ripple of white foam which broke
over its highest point.

“Tt is all over,” exclaimed the guides; and they
reined in their panting horses. Alighting from
his animal, Mr Stanley proceeded, in despair, to
attempt securing, in a sketch, a reminiscence of
the magnificent scene before him.

While thus engaged, he observed the two men
in earnest conversation, walking to and fro, now
looking back on the road they had travelled, and
then casting their eyes towards the right; the
only words he could distinctly hear—tor they were
230 ANOTILER WAY.

more than once repeated—being, “ Mais 1 faut
avoir bonne téte; a-t-il bonne téte ?”

At length one of them addressed him: ‘‘ Mon-
sieur, ily aun autre chemin, mais c’est dangerecux ;
cest un mauvais pas!” On being questioned as to
the nature of this mauvais pas, the guide gave no
distinct information. It was neither steep ner
fatiguing ; but it required wne bonne téte, car, sv
on glisse, on est perdu!”

This winding up was neither encouraging nor
satisfactory ; but having so repeatedly heard the
danger of these mountain passes exaggerated, the
courageous traveller expressed his readiness to try
this path, if they had made up their minds to guide
him. To this they consented, and preparations
were instantly made ; “for,” added they, “ the day
is waning, and you will find there is much to be
done.”

From this point of the adventure Mr Stanley’s
account shall be given in his own words. ‘“ During
the ride I endeavoured to pick up farther particulars
respecting the winding up of our enterprise; but
all I could learn was, that in consequence of the
suspension of all communication in the valleys
below, by the destruction of the roads and bridges,
a chamois-hunter had, since the catastrophe, passed
over this path, but that it had never before been
used as a regular communication, and certainly
THE “ MAUVAIS PAS.” 23]

never would again, as none, but from sheer neces-
sity, would ever think of taking advantage of it.
In the course of rather more than an hour’s sharp
ascent we attained a more level surface in the
bosom of a thick forest of pine and underwood,
fronted, as far as I could guess, from occasional
glimpses through gaps and intervals, by a gray dull
curtain of bare rock.

““We are approaching the mauvais pas, sail
one of the guides.

“*Ts it as rough as this?’ said I, floundering, as
U was, through hollows of loose stones and bushes.

“Oh no; it is as smooth as a floor, was the reply.

“In a few minutes we shall be on the pas,’ said
the other, as we began to descend on the eastern
declivity of the ridge we had been mounting for
the last hour. And then, for the first time, I saw
below me the valleys of the Drance spread forth
like a map, and that it required but half a dozen
steps at most to have cleared every impediment to
my descending amongst them, in an infinitely
shorter time than I had expended in mounting to
the elevated spot from whence I looked down upon
them. And then, too, for the first time certain
misgivings as to the propriety of going further,
and a shrewd guess as to the real nature of the
Mauvaris Pas, flashed across me, in one of those
sudden heart-searching thrills so perfectly defined
932, APPALLING REALITIES.

bead

in the single word erebling—a provincial term,
expressing that creeping, paralyzing, twittering,
palpitation sort of sensation which a nervous per-
son might be supposed to feel, if, in exploring a
damp and dark dungeon, he placed his hand unad-
visedly upon some cold and clammy substance
which his imagination might paint as something
too horrible to look at. But whatever were the
force and power of these feelings, 1t was not now
the time to let them get the mastership, .. and,
after all, though there were very unequivocal symp-
toms of something terrible in the immediate vici-
nage of the undefined gray screen of rock before
me, I had as yet no certainty of its appalling
realities. For a furlong or two no great change
was perceptible; there was a plentiful supply of
twigs and shrubs to hold by, and the path was not
by any means alarming. In short, I began to
shake off all uneasiness and smile at my imaginary
fears, when, on turning an angle, I came to an
abrupt termination of everything bordering on
twig, bough, pathway, or greensward, and the
Mauwoms Pas, in all its fearfulness, glared upon
me. Hor a foreground (if that could be called a
foreground, separated as it was by a gulf of some
fathoms wide) an unsightly facing of unbroken
precipitous rock bearded me on the spot from
whence I was to take my departure, jutting out
A FEARFUL PASSAGE. 233

sulliciently to conceal whatever might be the state
of affairs on the other side, round which it was
necessary to pass by a narrow ledge like a mantel-
piece, on which the first guide had now placed his
foot. The distance, however, was inconsiderable—
at most a few yards—after which I fondly conjec-
tured we might rejoin a pathway similar to that
we were now quitting, and that, in fact, this shor¢
but fearful trajet constituted the substance and the
sum total of what so richly deserved the title of
the Mauvais Pas. ‘Be firm; hold fast, and keep
your eye on the rock,’ said the guide, as I, with my
heart in my mouth, stepped out. ‘Is my foot
firmly fixed?’ ‘It is’ was the answer; and with
my eyes fixed upon the rock, as if it would have
opened under my gaze, and my hands hooked like
claws on the slight protuberances within reach, I
stole silently and slowly towards the projection,
almost without drawing a breath. Having turned
this point, I still found myself proceeding, but to
what degree, and whether for better or worse, I
could not exactly ascertain, as | most pertinaciously
continued to look upon the rock, mechanically mov-
ing foot after foot with a sort of dogged persever-
ance, leaving to the leading guide the pleasing
task, which I most anxiously expected every mo-
ment, of assuring me that the deed was done, and
congratulating me on having passed the Mauvats
234 A FRIGUTFUL SCENE.

Pas. But he was silent as the grave—not a word
escaped his lips; and on, and on, and on did we
tread, slowly, cautiously, and hesitatingly, for about
ten minutes, when I became impatient to learn the
extent of our progress, and inquired whether we
had nearly reached the other end. ‘Pas encore.’
‘Are we half way?’ ‘A peu prés, were the
replies. Gathering up my whole stock of presence
of mind, I requested that we might pause a while;
and then, as I deliberately turned my head, the
whole of this extraordinary and frightful scenery
revealed itself at a glance. Conceive an amphi-
theatre of rock, forming throughout a bare, barren,
perpendicular precipice, of I knew not how many
hundred feet in height, the two extremities dimin-
ishing in altitude as they approached the Drance,
which formed the cord of this arc; that on our left
constituting the barrier which had impeded our pro-
gress, and which we had just ascended. From the
point where we had stepped upon the ledge, quitting
the forest and underwood, this circular face of pre-
cipice commenced, continuing without intermission
till it united itself with its corresponding headland
on the right—the only communication between
the two being along a ledge in the face of the pre-
clpice, varying in width from about a foot to a few
inches; the surface of the said ledge, moreover,
assuming the form of an inclined plane, owing to
PERILOUS FOOTING. 235

an accumulation of small particles of rock which
had, from time immemorial, shaled from the heights
above, and lodged on this slightly projecting shelf.
Lhe distance, from the time taken to pass it, I
guessed to be not far short of a quarter of a mile.
At my foot, literally speaking (for it required but
a semiquaver of the body, or the loosening of my
hold, to throw the centre of gravitation over the
abyss), were spread the valleys of the Drance,
through which I could perceive the river meander-
ing like a silver thread; but, from the height at
which I looked down, its rapidity was invisible,
and its hoarse brawling unheard. The silence was
absolute and solemn ; for, fortunately, not a zephyr
fanned the air to interfere with my precarious equi-
hbrium.

‘There was no inducement for the lesser birds of
the field to warble where we were; and the lammer
geyers and the eagles, if any had their eyries
amidst these crags, were revelling in the banquet
of desolation below. As I looked upon this awfully
magnificent scene, a rapid train of thoughts suc-
ceeded each other—lI felt as if I were contemplating
a world I had left, and which I was never again to
revisit ; for 11 was impossible not be keenly im-
pressed with the idea that something fatal might
occur within the space of the next few minutes,
etlectually preventing my return thither as a living
236 STRANGE THOUGHTS.

being. Then, again, I saw before me the forms
and figures of many I had left—some a few hours,
some a few weeks before. Was I to see them again
or not? The question again and again repeated
itself, and the oftener, perhaps, from a feeling of
presumption I experienced, in even whispering to
myself that I decidedly should. ‘Sz on glasse, on
est perdu!’ How horribly forcible and true did
these words now appear,—on what a slender thread
was life held! A trifling deviation in the position
of a foot, and it was over. I had but to make one
single step in advance, and I was in another state
of existence. Such were a few of the mental feel-
ings which suggested themselves, but others of a
physical nature occurred. I had eaten nothing
since leaving the old convent in which I had spent
the preceding night, and the keen air on the moun-
tains had so sharpened my appetite, that by the
time I had reached the summit we had just quitted
I felt not only a good deal exhausted but extremely
hungry. But hunger, thirst, and fatigue, followed
me not on the ledge. <A feast would have had no
charm, and miles upon a level road would have
been as nothing. Every sense seemed absorbed in
getting to the end; and yet, in the midst of this
unenviable position, a trifling incident occurred,
which actually for the time gave rise to something
of a pleasurable sensation. About midway I espicd,
A PLEASURABLE SENSATION. 237

in a chink of the ledge, the beautiful and dazzling
blossom of the little Gentiana nivalis, and, stopping
the guides while I gathered it, I expressed great
satisfaction in meeting with this lovely little flower
on such a lonely spot. And I could scarcely help
smiling at the simplicity of these honest people,
who from that moment, whenever the difficulties
increased, endeavoured to divert my attention by
pointing out or looking for another specimen. We
had proceeded good part of the way, when, to my
dismay, the ledge, narrow as it was, became per-
ceptibly narrower, and at the distance of a yard or
two in advance I observed a point where it seemed
to run to nothing, interrupted by a protuberant
rock. I said nothing, waiting the result in silence.
The guide before me, when he reached the point,
threw one foot round the projection, till it was
firmly placed, and, holding on the rock, then
brought up the other. What wasI todo? Like
Arthur Philipson’s guide Antonio, I could only
say, ‘I was no goat-hunter, and had no wings to
transport me from cliff to cliff like a raven;’ ‘I
cannot perform that feat, said I to the guide; ‘I
shall miss the invisible footing on the other side,
and—then!’ They were prepared for the case.
One of them happened to have a short staff; this
was handed forward, and formed a slight rail, while
the other, stooping down, seized my foot, and,
238 SAGE ADVICE.

placing it in his hand, answered, ‘ Tread without
apprehension ; 1t will support you as firmly as the
rock itself; be steady—go on.’ I did so, and re-
gained the ledge once more in safety. The possible
repetition of such an exploit was not by any means
to my taste, and I ventured to question the fore-
most guide as to the chance of its recurrence, and
the difficulties yet in store. Without pretending
to disguise them, he proceeded to dilate upon that
portion of our peregrination still in reserve, when
the other interrupted him impatiently, and in
French, instead of patos (forgetting in his anxiety
to enjoin silence, that I understood every word he
uttered), exclaimed, ‘Not a word more, I entreat
you; speak not to him of danger; this is not the
place to excite alarm; it is our business to cheer
and animate ;’ and, in the true spirit of his advice,
he immediately pointed to a bunch of little gentians,
exclaiming, ‘Eh, donc, qu’elles sont jolies! regardez
ces charmants fleurs!’ Long before I had half
accomplished the distance, and had formed a cor-
rect opinion as to what remained in hand, the pro-
priety of turning back had more than once suggested
itself; but, on looking round, the narrowness of
the shelf already passed presented so revoltin 9° an
appearance, that what with the risk to be incurred
in the very act of turning about and forming any-
thing like a ptrouette in my present position, added
SLOWLY AND SURELY. 239

to an almost insurmountable unwillingness to re-
cede, for the reasons above mentioned, and the
chance that, as it could not well be worse, the re-
mainder might possibly be better, I decided on
going on, estimating every additional inch as a
valuable accession of space, with a secret proviso,
however, in my own mind, that nothing on earth
should induce me to return the same way, notwith-
standing the declaration of the guides, that they
knew of no other line, unless a bridge, which was
impassable yesterday, had been made passable to-
day, and we knew the people were at work, for a
man had gone before us with an axe over his
shoulder.

“Thus persevering with the speed of a tortoise or
a sloth, these solemn slow movements of hand and
foot forcibly reminding me of that cautious animal,
we at last drew near to a more acute point in the
curve of this gaunt amphitheatre, where it bent
forward towards the river, and consequently we
were more immediately fronted by the precipice
forming the continuation of that on which we stood.
By keeping my head obliquely turned inwards, I
had hitherto in great measure avoided more visual
communication than I wished with the bird’s-eye
prospect below; but there was no possibility of ex-
cluding the smooth bare frontage of rock nght
overhead. There it reared itself from the clods
940 ONCE MORE ON SOLID GROUND.

beneath to the clouds above, without outward or
visible sign of fret or fissure, as far as I could
judge, on which even a chamois could rest its hoof ;
for the width of whatever ledge it might have was
diminished, by the perspective view we had of it,
to Huclid’s true definition of a mathematical line—
viz., length without breadth. At this distance of
time I have no very clear recollection of the mode
of our exit, and cannot speak positively as to
whether we skirted any part of this perilous wall
of the Titans, or crept up through the corner of
the curve by some fissure leading to the summit.
I have, however, a very clear and agreeable recol-
lection of the moment when I came in contact
with a tough bough, which I welcomed and grasped
as I would have welcomed and grasped the hand
of the dearest friend I had upon earth, and by the
help of which I in a very few more seconds
scrambled up, and set my foot once more, without
fear of slips or sliding, on a rough heathery surface,
forming the bed of a ravine, which soon led us to
an upland plateau, on which I stood as in the
garden of Paradise.”

 
 

Visit of M. Buc to the Lamaserp of Bounboum.

 

q] Feast of Flowers! The very words breathe
| of romance, and remind us of the lovely
) vale of Cashmere,

at With its roses, the brightest that Earth ever gave ;”

 

whose floral festivity is so charmingly painted in
“The Light of the Haram.” The reader will ac-
cordingly be prepared to expect a romantic chapter.

The Lamasery of Kounboum was visited by the
renowned traveller M. Huc, who thus describes
it :-—‘‘ At eleven leagues from Tang-Krou-Gul there
is, in the land of the Si-Fan, or eastern Thibetians,
a Lamasery, the fame of which extends not merely
through Tartary, but even to the remotest part of
Thibet. Thither pilgrims flock from all quarters,
venerating; for there was born the famous reformer
of Buddhism. The Lamasery bears the name of
Kounboum, and contains nearly four thousand
lamas. Its site is one of enchanting beauty. Ima-
242 THE LAMASERY OF KOUNBOUM.

gine, in a mountain’s side, a deep broad ravine,
adorned with fine trees, and harmonious with the
cawing of rooks and yellow-beaked crows, and the
amusing chattering of magpies. On the two sides
of the ravine, and on the slopes of the mountain,
rise, in an amphitheatrical form, the white dwell-
ings of the lamas, of various sizes, but all alike
surrounded with a wall and surmounted by a ter-
race. Amidst these modest habitations you see
rising, here and there, numerous Buddhist temples
with gilt roofs, sparkling with a thousand brilliant
colours, and surrounded with elegant colonnades.
The houses of the superiors are distinguished by
streamers floating from small hexagonal turrets;
almost at every step you see niches, in form re-
sembling a sugar-loaf, within which are burning
incense, odoriferous wood, and cypress leaves. The
most striking feature of all, however, is to see an
exclusive population of lamas, walking about the
numerous streets, clothed in their uniform of red
dresses and yellow mitres.”

This renowned establishment enjoys so high a
repute, that the worshippers of Buddha resort
thither in pilgrimage from all parts of Tartary and
Thibet. Upon the great festivals the congregation
of strangers is Immense; and of these there are
four in the year—the most famous of all being the
“ Feast of Flowers,” which takes place on the 15th
THE ‘* FEAST OF FLOWERS.” 943

day of the first month. M. Hue and his com-
panions were installed at Kounboum ten days
previous, and watched the numerous caravans of
pugrims arriving by every road that led to the
Lainasery. The festival was in every one’s mouth;
the flowers, it was said, were that year of surpass-
ing beauty; the Council of the Fine Arts, who had
examined them, had declared them to be far supe-
rior to those of preceding years.

Eager to behold these marvellous flowers, the
strangers hastened, as may be readily supposed, to
seek information respecting a festival so entirely
unknown. The following details were furnished
them on this curious ceremony :—

‘The flowers of the 15th of the first moon consist
of representations, secular and religious, in which
all the Asiatic nations are introduced, with their
peculiar physiognomies and their distinguishing
costumes. Persons, places, apparel, decorations—
all are formed of fresh butter! Three months are
occupied in the preparations for this singular spec-
tacle. Twenty lamas, selected from among the
most celebrated artists of the Lamasery, are daily
engaged in these butter-works, keeping their hands
all the while in water, lest the heat of the fingers
should disfigure their productions. As these la-
bours take place chiefly in the depth of the winter,

the operators have much suffering to endure from
(352) 16
O44 MUSEUM OF WORKS IN BUTTER !

the cold. The first process is thoroughly to knead
the butter, so as to render it firm. When the
material is thus prepared, the various portions of
the butter-work are confided to various artists,
who, however, all alike work under the direction
of a principal, who has furnished the plan of the
flowers for the year, and has the general superin-
tendence of their production. The figures, &c.,
being prepared and put together, are then con-
fided to another set of artists, who colour them,
under the direction of the same leader.” Whata
curious and comical idea—a museum of works in
butter !

M. Huc proceeds thus to describe what he saw
when the period for the grand spectacle arrived :—

“On the eve of the festival, the arrival of
strangers became perfectly amazing. In every
direction you heard the cries of the camels and the
bellowing of the long-haired oxen on which the
pilgrims had journeyed thither. On the slopes of
the mountain overlooking the Lamasery arose
numerous tents, wherein were encamped such of
the visitors as had not found accommodation in
the dwellings of the lamas. Throughout the 14th,
the number of persons who performed the pil-
erimage around the Lamasery was immense. It
was for us a strange and painful sight to view that
great crowd of human beings prostrating then-
A SURPRISING SIGHT. 945

selves at every step, and reciting, in under tones,
their form of prayer.

‘On the 15th the pilgrims again made the circuit
of the Lamasery, but by no means in such numbers
as on the previous days. Curiosity impelled the
great majority towards the points where prepara-
tions were making for the Feast of Flowers. When
night fell, we went to see the marvellous butter-
works, of which we had heard so much. The
flowers were arranged in the open air, before the
various temples of the Lamasery, and displayed by
illuminations of the most dazzling brilliancy. In-
numerable vases of brass and copper, in the form
of chalices, were placed upon slight framework,
itself representing various designs; and all these
vases were filled with thick butter supporting a
solid wick. The illuminations were arranged with
a taste that would have reflected no discredit on a
Parisian decorator.

“The appearance of the flowers themselves quite
amazed us. We could never have conceived that
in these deserts, amongst a half savage people,
artists of such eminent merit could have been
found. From the paintings and sculptures we had
seen in various Lamaseries, we had not in’ the
slightest degree been led to anticipate the exquisite
finish which we had occasion tu admire in the
butter-works. The flowers were bas-reliefs, of
246 A THEATRE IN BUTTER !

colossal proportions, representing various subjects
taken from the history of Buddhism. All the per-
sonages were invested with a truth of expression
that quite surprised us. The features were ful of
life and animation, the attitudes natural, and the
drapery easy and graceful. You could distinguish at
a glance the nature and quality of the materials re-
presented. The furs were especially gcod. ‘The
various skins of the sheep, the tiger, the fox, the
wolf, &c., were so admirably rendered, that you
felt inchned to go and feel them with the hand,
and ascertain whether, after all, they were not real.
These large bas-reliefs were surrounded with frames,
representing animals and flowers, all in butter, and
all admirable, like the works they enclosed, for
their delicacy of outline and the beauty of their
colouring. On the road which led from one temple
to another, were placed at intervals small bas-
reliefs representing, in miniature, battles, hunting
incidents, nomadic episodes, and views of the most
celebrated Lamaseries of Thibet and Tartary.
Finally, in front of the principal temple, there was
a theatre, which, with its personages and its de-
corations, were all of butter! The dramatis persone
were a foot high, and represented a community of
lamas on their way to solemnize praycr. At first
the stage is empty; then a conch is sounded, and
you see issuing from two doors, two files of minor
WILAT BECOMES OF TILE FLOWERS, 247

bel

lamas, followed by the superiors in their state
dresses. After remaining for a moment motionless
on the stage, the procession disappears at the sides,
and the representation is over. This spectacle ex-
cited general enthusiasm. At length, being weary
of the pressure caused by the waves of the immense
mass that rolled to and fro, like a sea beaten by the
tempest, we retired, the night being far advanced.
Next morning, when the sun rose, not a trace re-
mained of the Feast of Flowers. All had dis-
appeared ; the bas-reliefs had been demolished, and
the immense collection of butter had been thrown
down a ravine to feed the crows with. These grand
works, on which so much pains, so much time, we
may also say so much genius, had been expended,
had served merely as a spectacle for a single even-
ing. Hvery year they make new flowers, and every
year upon a new plan. With the flowers disap-
peared also the pilgrims. Already, at daybreak,
you saw them slowly ascending the tortuous paths
of the mountain, returning to their homes in the
desert sorrowfully and silently, for the heart of man
can endure so little of joy in this world, that the
day succeeding a festival is generally full of bitter-
ness and melancholy.

A few days after the ‘‘ Feast of Flowers,” M.
IIuc determined to repair to the little Lamasery
of Tchogorton, which served as a sort of country
248 BOTANIZING ON THE MOUNTAINS.

house and botanical garden for the Faculty of
Medicine. It was situated within half an hour’s
walk of Kounboum. Thither every year the grand
lamas and students of the medical section proceed
towards the close of summer, remaining generally
for about a fortnight, collecting medicinal plants on
the surrounding hills.

For some days the strangers enjoyed the most
profound solitude. They were alone with a lama
left in charge of the Lamasery. But the desert
became, after a time, alive; and towards the com-
mencement of September the lamas of the Faculty
of Medicine repaired to Tchogorton for the purpose
of botanizing. The disposable houses received all
they could contain, and the rest dwelt in tents,
sheltered by the great trees of the Lamasery.
Every morning, alter having recited their prayers
in common, drunk their buttered tea, and eaten
their barley meal, all the students in medicine
tucked up their garments and went forth on the
mountains, under the guidance of one of their pro-
fessors. Hach was provided with a long iron-
pointed stick and a small pickaxe; a leathern bag,
filled with meal, was suspended from the girdle,
and some carried at their backs great tea-kettles,
for the Faculty spent the entire day on the moun-
tain. Before sunset the troop would return, laden
with perfect faggots of branches and piles of plauts
A MEDICAL HARVEST. 249

aud grasses. As they came, descending from the
mountains, supported by their long staves and
bearing these burdens, they appeared more like
poaching woodcutters than like future doctors in
medicine. M. Huc, after describing these botani-
cal gatherings, says :—‘* We were often obliged to
escort In person those of the number who had
special charge of the aromatic plants; for our
cainels, which, attracted by the odour, always put
themselves in pursuit of these personages, would
otherwise inevitably, and without the smallest
scruple, have devoured those precious simples des-
tined for the relief of suffering humanity.” The
remainder of the day was occupied in cleaning and
spreading out on mats these various products of
the vegetable kingdom. This medical harvest con-
tinued eight whole days; five more were devoted
to the selection and classification of the various
articles, and on the fourteenth day a small portion
was given to each student, the greater proportion
remaining the property of the Faculty of Medicine.
On the fifteenth day a festival was kept, when a
grand banquet of tea, with milk, barleymeal, little
cakes fried in butter, and boiled mutton, regaled
the neophytes of the Lamasery. Thus terminated
this very original and amusing /éte champétre, or
botanico-medical expedition, and the ilustrious
Faculty gaily returned to IXounboum.
250 VERY SINGULAR ANIMALS.

How far a knowledge of natural history in the
zoological department is cultivated among the
lamas, we may infer from an amusing description
given to M. Huc by Sandara, a lama who had
passed ten years in one of the grand Lamaseries,
of certain ‘curious animals” he encountered on
one of his pilgrimages. ‘In the country through
which we passed,” said Sandara, ‘‘ we saw somo
very singular animals; they were not so big as an
ordinary cat, and were covered with a sort of hair
as hard as iron needles. Whenever one of these
creatures perceived us it immediately rolled itself
up, so that you could no longer distinguish head,
tail, or feet, and it became, as it were, a great ball,
all bristhng with long, hard thorns. At first these
beasts frightened us ; we could not comprehend at
all what they were, for the books of prayer say not
a word about them. However, by degrees, we got
courage enough to examine them closely. As
these balls were too prickly to be touched with the
hand, we placed a stick horizontally across one of
them, and then pressed down both ends until we
made the ball open itself a little, and then there
came out a little face like a man’s, that looked at
us fixedly. We cried out in great terror, and ran
away as hard as we-could. At last, however, we
grew accustomed to the little animals, and they
even served us for an amusement; for it was good
MORE ‘f WONDERFUL” CREATURES. 251

fun to turn them over and over down the hills with
the iron ends of our staves.

“We also met with worms of a very surprising
kind. One day, when it was very hot, we were
journeying along a little stream that meandered
through a valley in which the grass grew very
high. ‘Towards noon, after drinking tea, we lay
down and slept on the edge of a stream. You
know that, according to the rule of Tsong Kabi,
the yellow-mitred lamas do not wear trousers.
When we woke up, we found a number of worms
sticking to our legs; they were of a gray colour,
and as big as one’s finger. We tried to get them
off, but could not ; and as we did not experience
any pain from them, we waited to see what would
be the end of the affair. By and by the beasts
swelled ; and when they had become quite round
and large, they dropped off themselves. Oh! Thibet
ig a strange country. You see animals there that
are found nowhere else.” The reader will by this
time have discovered that these ‘‘ wonderful ani-
mals” were no other than hedgehogs and leeches !

Before bidding farewell to the Lamasery of
Kounboum, we must not forget to mention its
name is composed of two Thibetian words, signify-
ing Ten Thousand Images, and having allusion to
the tree which, according to the legend, sprang
from the hair of Tsong-Kaba, the celebrated re-
252 ‘mREE OF THE TEN THOUSAND IMAGES.”

former of Buddhism, and which is said to bear a
Thibetian character on each of its leaves. This
marvellous tree was visited by our traveller, who
had too often heard of it during his journey not to
be eager to see it. At the foot of the mountain on
which the Lamasery stands, and not far from the
principal temple, in a great square enclosure formed
by brick walls, is the Zee of the Ten Thousand
Images. Careful examination assured M. Huc
that there was something remarkable about this
prodigy. Upon each of the leaves were well-
formed Thibetian characters, all of a green colour,
some darker, some hghter than the leaf itself. The
bark of the tree, and its branches, which resemble
those of the plane-tree, were also covered with
similar characters. A piece of the old bark being
removed, the young bark showed the indistinct out-
line of characters in a germinating state ; and what
appeared singular, the new characters were fre-
quently different from those they replaced.

‘The Tree of the Ten Thousand Images,” says
M. Hue, “seemed to us of great age. Its trunk,
which three men could scarcely embrace with out-
stretched arms, is not more than eight fect high ;
the branches, instead of shooting up, spread out in
the shape of a plume of feathers, and are extremely
bushy—few of them are dead. The leaves are ever-
green, and the wood, which is of a reddish tint, has
ITS SINGULARITY. 953

an exquisite odour, something like that of cinna-
mon. ‘The lamas informed us that in summer,
towards the eighth moon, the tree produces large
red flowers of an extremely beautiful character.
They assured us that there nowhere else existed
another such tree; that many attempts have been
made in various Lamaseries of Tartary and Thibet
to propagate 1t by seeds and cuttings, but that all
these attempts have been fruitless.”

 
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