Chatterbox Stories of Natural History Part 3

Although he can measure twenty paces in a jump, I think for once he has made a misstep, and the dear little creature with one more bound will be safe. One very remarkable fact about these animals is this: if there are several together, and one starts over the snow in pursuit of booty, all the others will follow in exactly the same tracks, so that it will look as if but one lynx had pa.s.sed over the snow-covered earth.

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[Ill.u.s.tration: GOOD MORNING, BIRDIE!]

THE SWAN AND THE DRAKE.

Slowly, in majestic silence, Sailed a Swan upon a lake; Round about him, never quiet, Swam a noisy quacking Drake.

"Swan," exclaimed the latter, halting, "I can scarcely comprehend Why I never hear you talking: Are you really dumb, my friend?"

Said the Swan, by way of answer: "I have wondered, when you make Such a shocking, senseless clatter, Whether you are deaf, Sir Drake!"

Better, like the Swan, remain in Silence grave and dignified, Than keep, drake-like, ever prating, While your listeners deride.

W. R. E.

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THE BEAVER.

This industrious animal is generally found in Canada and the northern portions of the United States, where it makes its home on the banks of the rivers and lakes. Here they a.s.semble in hundreds to a.s.sist each other in the construction of their dams, and in the building of their houses, which are put together with a considerable amount of engineering skill. The materials used in building the dams are wood, stones, and mud, which they collect themselves for that purpose, and after finishing the dam, or winter storehouse, they collect their stores for the winter's use, and then make a connection with their houses in the banks.

Their skins are valuable in making fine hats, and their flesh is much relished by the hunters. The beaver is an interesting animal in many respects, and the expression "busy as a beaver" is borne out by its habits.

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[Ill.u.s.tration: THE TURTLE-DOVE.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE CUCKOO.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE PEAc.o.c.k.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE TAME, OR MUTE SWAN.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE LIONESS AND CUBS.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE LEOPARD.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE SYRIAN BEAR.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE JACKAL.]

LIONESS AND CUBS.

The lioness is much smaller than the lion, and her form is more slender and graceful. She is devoid of the mane of her lord and master, and has four or five cubs at a birth, which are all born blind. The young lions are at first obscurely striped and spotted. They mew like cats, and are as playful as kittens. As they get older, the uniform color is gradually a.s.sumed. The mane appears in the males at the end of ten or twelve months, and at the age of eighteen months it is very considerably developed, and they begin to roar. Both in nature and in a state of captivity the lioness is very savage as soon as she becomes a mother, and the lion himself is then most to be dreaded, as he will then brave almost any risk for the sake of his lioness and family.

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A PET JACK.

The first fish I ever saw in an aquarium, twenty years ago, was a "Jack," as he is called when young, or a "Pike," when he grows older; and ever since then I have contrived to have a pet one, and this, drawn from life by Mr. Harrison Weir, is an accurate portrait of the one I now possess in the Crystal Palace Aquarium. There he is, just as he steals round the corner of a bit of rock. He is glaring at a minnow, at which he is taking most accurate aim; he hardly seems to move, but yet he does by a very trifling motion of the edge of his back fin--sometimes resting a little on the tips of his two foremost fins, as they touch the ground, carefully calculating his distance; and then, at the very moment when the minnow has got into a position which leaves a s.p.a.ce of clear water in front, so that Mr. Jack shall not hurt his nose against any hard substance when he gets carried on by the violence of his rush, he darts at the minnow with the speed of Shakspeare's Puck:--

"I go, I go! look, how I go!

Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow."

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THE SWALLOW'S NEST.

Often in former years the twitter of the birds glittering in the morning sun was the first sound that met my ear during the wakeful hours which frequently accompany illness after the worst crisis has pa.s.sed, and you are recovering by degrees. The gutters ran beneath my bedroom windows, and I could see the steel-blue backs of the swallows as they sat on the rims of the gutter, twisting their little heads, opening their yellow-lined beaks, singing to their hearts' content. Whole families would perch there together, or the young would rest in rows of four or five, according to the nest-broods of each. How delightful to see them fed by their agile parents! how tantalizing to have them almost within reach of my hands, yet not to be able to catch them or give them a kiss, as they would cower in my hollow hands if I only could have got them in there!

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THE BRAVE DOG OF ST. BERNARD.

Where the St. Bernard Pa.s.s climbs up Amid the Alpine snows, The far-famed Hospice crowns the heights With shelter and repose.

Its inmates, with their faithful dogs, Are truly friends in need When snowdrifts block the traveler's way, And blinding storms mislead.

Brave "Barry," once, far down the track That crossed a glacier steep, Found buried deep beneath the snow A poor boy, fast asleep.

He licked the cold, numb hands and face To warmth and life once more, And bore him safely on his back Up to the Hospice door.

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[Ill.u.s.tration: COME TO ME!]