THE DOE-CHAMOIS AND HER YOUNG. 113

her young ones were cold and helpless, she cast a reproving
glance toward the vessel whence the cruel bullets had come,
and uttered a low wail of despair which might have moved
the hearts even of the most unfeeling. A shower of musket
bullets, however, laid her low between her two cubs, and she
died licking their wounds.

You cry “Shame” on the rough sailors for their cruelty.
Yes, they acted cruelly, because they were thoughtless of the
feelings of the poor bear. Ask yourself, dear young friend,
if you are ever thoughtless of the feelings of those who merit
your tenderest love. If you are, cry “Shame” on yourself,
and try in future to regard them first of all things.

 

THE DOE-CHAMOIS AND HER YOUNG.

THE nimble inhabitant of the lofty Alps—the graceful cha-
mois—shows the greatest affection for her young.

A Swiss hunter, while pursuing his dangerous sport
observed a mother chamois and her two kids 6n a rock above
him. They were sporting by her side, leaping here and there
around her. While she watched their gambols, she was ever
on the watch lest an enemy should come near.

The hunter, climbing the rock, drew near, intending, if
possible, to capture one of the kids alive. No sooner did
the mother chamois observe him, than, dashing at him
furiously, she strove to hurl him with her horns down the
cliff. The hunter, knowing that he might kill her at any
moment, drove her off, fearing to fire, lest the young ones
should take to flight.