ROUND-ABOUT RAMBLES
In Lands of
FACT AND FANCY
BY
FRANK R STOCKTON
_NEW EDITION_
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
1910
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872,
BY SCRIBNER. ARMSTRONG & CO.,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
CONTENTS
WINTER IN THE WOODS
TRICKS OF LIGHT
SAVING THE TOLL
THE REAL KING OF BEASTS
THE FRENCH SOLDIER-BOY
A LIVELY WAY TO RING A BELL
DOWN IN THE EARTH
THE LION
BOB'S HIDING-PLACE
THE CONTINENTAL SOLDIER
A JUDGE OF MUSIC
THE SENSITIVE PLANT
SIR MARMADUKE
THE GIRAFFE
UP IN THE AIR
THE ARABIAN HORSE
INDIAN-PUDDINGS: PUMPKIN-PIES
LIVING IN SMOKE
THE CANNON OF THE PALAIS-ROYAL
WATERS, DEEP AND SHALLOW
HANS THE HERB-GATHERER
SOME CUNNING INSECTS
A FIRST SIGHT OF THE SEA
THE LARGEST CHURCH IN THE WORLD
THE SOFT PLACE
A FEW FEATHERED FRIENDS
IN A WELL
A VEGETABLE GAS MANUFACTORY
ABOUT BEARS
AN OLD COUNTRY-HOUSE
FAR-AWAY FORESTS
BUILDING SHIPS
THE ORANG-OUTANG
LITTLE BRIDGET'S BATH
SOME NOVEL FISHING
EAGLES AND LITTLE GIRLS
CLIMBING MOUNTAINS
ANDREW'S PLAN
THE WILD ASS
ANCIENT RIDING
BEAUTIFUL BUGS
A BATTLE ON STILTS
DRAWING THE LONG BOW
AN ANCIENT THEATRE
BIRD CHAT
MUMMIES
TAME SNAKES
GYMNASTICS
BUYING "THE MIRROR"
BIG GAME
THE BOOTBLACK'S DOG
GOING AFTER THE COWS
THE REFLECTIVE STAG
WHEN WE MUST NOT BELIEVE OUR EYES
A CITY UNDER THE GROUND
THE COACHMAN
GEYSERS, AND HOW THEY WORK
A GIANT PUFF-BALL
TICKLED BY A STRAW
THE LIGHT IN THE CASTLE
THE OAK TREE
THE SEA-SIDE
THE SICK PIKE
TWO KINDS OF BLOSSOMS
ABOUT GLASS
CARL
SCHOOL'S OUT
NEST-BUILDERS
THE BOOMERANG
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
_Frontispiece._
The Woodcutter
The Minstrel on the Wall
Tricks in a Church
The Dance of Demons
Nostradamus
The Lion's Head
The Theatrical Ghost
The Toll-bridge
A Royal Procession
An Elephant after Him
The Dog's Protector
An Elephant Nurse
Saving the Artillery-man
The Gallant Elephant
The French Soldier-Boy
On a Bell
Fishes found in the Mammoth Cave
The Bottomless Pit
The Lion's Home
The Uncaged Lion
A Lion's Dinner
A Terrible Companion
Off to the Kitchen
Blind Man's Buff
The Story-Teller
In the Cellar
Handing round the Apples
The Drummer of 1776
The Continental Soldier
The Donkey in the Parlor
Sir Marmaduke
The Giraffe
Above the Clouds
The Flying Man
The Parachute--shut
The Parachute--open
Le Flesseles
Bagnolet's Balloon
Coming down Roughly
A Balloon with Sails and Rudders
The Minerva
Safe Ballooning
Driven out to Sea
The Arabian Horse
In the Cornfield
A Big Mosquito
Exactly Noon
The Spring
The Brook
The Mill
The Cascade
The Great River
Falls of Gavarni
The Falls of Zambesi
Niagara
Fishing with a Net
Fishing with a Spear
Sponge-Fishing
A Pearl Oyster
Divers
Rough Water
The Iceberg
The Storm
The Shipwreck
Water-Spouts
A Bit of Cable
Hans, the Herb-Gatherer
Patsey
A Spider at Home
The Ant's Arch
The Cock-chafer's Wing
The Spider's Bridge
The Moth and the Bees
Learned Fleas
The Pacific
St. Peter's at Rome
Interior of St. Peter's
The Five Young Deer
Waking Up
Familiar Friends
The Pigeon
The Dove
The Swan
The Goose that Led
The Goose that Followed
The Sensible Duck
The Goldfinch
The Magpie
The Owl
Morning Singers
In a Well
The Fraxinella
A Company of Bears
The Black Bear
The Grizzly Bear
The White Bear
The Tame Bear
An old Country-House
Ancient Builders
The Pine Forest
Tree Ferns
Tropical Forest
The Giant Trees
The Great Eastern
The Orang-Outang
Bridget and the Fairies
Flat-Fish
Turbots
The Sea-Horse
The Cuttle-Fish
The Polypier
Tunnies
The Sword-Fish
The Shark
The Child and the Eagle
Climbing the Mountain
Andrew and Jenny
Wild Asses
The Palanquin
The Chariot
Transformation of Beetles
A Battle on Stilts
Drawing the Long Bow
The Colosseum
The Cormorants
The Bittern
The Pelican
The Hoopoe
The Falcon
The Mummy
The Stand
The Coffin
The Outside Coffin
The Sarcophagus
The Tame Snake
The Novel Team
Youngsters Fighting
Throwing the Hammer
Throwing the Stone
Thomas Topham
Venetian Acrobats
The Tight-Rope
The See-Saw
The Wild Boar
The Musk-Ox and the Sailor
Hunting the Brown Bear
A Brave Hippopotamus
A Rhinocerus Turning the Table
A Tiger-Hunt
A Fight with a Gorilla
The Boot-black's Dog
Going after the Cows
The Reflective Stag
The Mirage
Fata Morgana
The Spectre of the Brocken
A Narrow Street in Pompeii
A Cleared Street in Pompeii
The Atrium in the House of Pansa
Ornaments from Pompeii
A Pompeiian Bakery
The Amphitheatre of Pompeii
The Coachman
The Grand Geyser
The Artificial Geyser
A Giant Puff-ball
Tickled by a Straw
The Will-o'-the-Wisp
The Oak Tree
The Sea-Side
The Vessels on Shore
The Sick Pike
The Blossoms
Ice-Blossoms
Ice-Flowers
Ancient Bead
Venetian Bottle
German Drinking-Glass
Glass Jug
Making Bottles
Venetian Goblet
Modern Goblets
The Queen's Mirror
Bohemian Goblet
French Flagon
The Portland Vase
The Strange Lady
Carl and the Duke
The Dominie
Wrens' Nests
Orioles' Nest
Owl's Nests
Flamingoes' Nests
The little Grebe's Nest
The Ostrich-Nest
The Stork's Nest
A Fish's Nest
Throwing the Boomerang
The Way the Boomerang Goes
PREFACE
Come along, boys and girls! We are off on our rambles. But please do
not ask me where we are going. It would delay us very much if I should
postpone our start until I had drawn you a map of the route, with all
the stopping-places set down.
We have far to go, and a great many things to see, and it may be that
some of you will be very tired before we get through.
If so, I shall be sorry; but it will be a comfort to think that none
of us need go any farther than we choose.
There will be considerable variety in our rambles. We shall walk about
familiar places, and we shall explore streets and houses that have
been buried for centuries. We shall go down deep into the earth, and
we shall float in a balloon, high up into the air. We shall see many
beasts of the forest; some that are bloody and cruel, and others that
are gentle and wise. We will meet with birds, fishes, grand old
buildings, fleas, vast woods, bugs, mummies, snakes, tight-rope
dancers, gorillas, will-o'-the-wisps, beautiful blossoms, boomerangs,
oceans, birds' nests, and I cannot tell you what all besides. We will
also have some adventures, hear some stories, and have a peep at a
fairy or two before we are done.
I shall not, however, be able to go with you everywhere. When you are
enjoying a "Bird Chat;" "Buying the Mirror;" learning when "We must
not Believe our Eyes;" visiting "A City under the Ground;" hearing of
"The Coachman's" troubles; sitting under "The Oak-tree;" finding out
wonderful things "About Glass;" watching what happens when "School's
Out;" or following the fortunes of "Carl," your guide will be a lady,
and I think that you will all agree that she knows very well where she
ought to go, and how to get there. The rest of the time you will be
with me.
And now, having talked enough, suppose we start.
WINTER IN THE WOODS
[Illustration]
What can be more delightful, to a boy of spirit, than a day in the
woods when there has been a good snow! If he also happens to have a
good friend or two, and some good dogs (who are just as likely to be
friends as his boy-companions), he ought to be much happier than an
ordinary king. A forest is a fine place at any time, but when the
ground is well covered with snow--especially if there is a hard crust
upon it--the woods seem to possess a peculiar charm. You can go
anywhere then.
In the summer, the thick undergrowth, the intertwining vines, and the
heavy lower branches of the trees, make it difficult even to see into
the dark recesses of the forest. But in the winter all is open. The
low wet places, the deep holes, the rotten bogs, everything on the
ground that is in the way of a good run and a jump, is covered up. You
do not walk a hundred yards under the bare branches of the trees
before up starts a rabbit, or a hare, if you would rather call him by
his right name,--and away go the dogs, and away you go--all of you
tearing along at the top of your speed!
But poor Bunny has a small chance, when a hard snow is on the ground.
His hiding-places are all covered up, and before he knows it the dogs
have caught him, and your mother will have stewed rabbit for supper.
It seems a hard fate for the poor little fellow, but he was born
partly for that purpose.
When you have caught your rabbit, and come back to where the men are
cutting wood, you will be just as proud to tell the boy who is cutting
up the branches all about your splendid hunt, as if you had chased and
killed a stag.
"There's where we started him!" you will cry, "and away he scudded,
over there among the chestnuts, and Rover right at his heels, and when
we got down there to the creek, Rover turned heels-over-head on the
ice, he was going so fast; but I gave one slide right across, and just
up there, by the big walnut, the other two dogs got him!"
That boy is almost as much excited as you are, and he would drop his
axe in one minute, and be off with you on another chase, if his father
were not there.
And now you find that you have reached the wood-cutters exactly in
time, for that great tree is just about to come down.
There go the top-branches, moving slowly along through the tops of the
other trees, and now they move faster, and everything begins to crack;
and, with a rush and a clatter of breaking limbs, the great oak comes
crashing down; jarring the very earth beneath your feet, and making
the snow fly about like a sparkling cloud, while away run the dogs,
with their tails between their legs.
The tree is down now, and you will want to be home in time for dinner.
Farmer Brown's sled has just passed, and if you will cut across the
woods you can catch up with him, and have a ride home, and tell him
all about the rabbit-hunt, on the way.
If it is Saturday, and a holiday, you will be out again this
afternoon, with some of the other boys, perhaps, and have a grand
hunt.
Suppose it is snowing, what will you care? You will not mind the snow
any more than if it were a shower of blossoms from the apple-trees in
May.
TRICKS OF LIGHT.
[Illustration]
There is nothing more straightforward in its ways than light--when we
let it alone. But, like many of us, when it is introduced to the
inventions and contrivances of the civilized world, it often becomes
exceedingly fond of vagaries and extravagances.
Of all the companions of light which endeavor to induce it to forsake
its former simple habits, there is not one which has the influence
possessed by glass. When light and glass get together it is difficult
to divine what tricks they are going to perform. But some of these are
very interesting, if they are a little wild, and there are very few of
us who do not enjoy them.
[Illustration]
For instance, what a delight to any company, be it composed of young
folks or old, is a magic-lantern! The most beautiful and the most
absurd pictures may be made to appear upon the wall or screen. But
there is an instrument, called the phantasmagoria, which is really
nothing but an improved magic-lantern, which is capable of producing
much more striking effects. It is a much larger instrument than the
other, and when it is exhibited a screen is placed between it and the
spectators, so that they do not see how the pictures are produced. It
is mounted on castors, so that at times it can be brought nearer and
nearer to the screen, until the picture seems to enlarge and grow in a
wonderful manner. Then, when it is drawn back, the image diminishes
and recedes far into the distance. The lenses and other mechanism of
the phantasmagoria can also be moved in various directions, making the
action of the pictures still more wonderful. Sometimes, when the
instrument is exhibited in public, the screen is not used, but the
pictures are thrown upon a cloud of smoke, which is itself almost
invisible in the dim light of the room. In such a case the figures
seem as if they were floating in the air.
A man, named Robertson, once gave exhibitions in Paris, in an old
chapel, and at the close of his performances he generally caused a
great skeleton figure of Death to appear among the pillars and arches.
Many of the audience were often nearly scared to death by this
apparition. The more ignorant people of Paris who attended these
exhibitions, could not be persuaded, when they saw men, women, and
animals walking about in the air between the arches of the chapel,
that Robertson was not a magician, although he explained to them that
the images were nothing but the effect of a lantern and some glass
lenses. When these people could see that the figures were produced on
a volume of smoke, they were still more astonished and awed, for they
thought that the spirits arose from the fire which caused the smoke.
But Robertson had still other means of exhibiting the tricks of light.
Opposite is a picture of the "Dance of Demons."
This delusion is very simple indeed, and is produced by placing a
card-figure on a screen, and throwing shadows from this upon another
screen, by means of several lights, held by assistants. Thus each
light throws its own shadow, and if the candles are moved up and down,
and about, the shadows will dance, jump over each other, and do all
sorts of wonderful things. Robertson, and other public exhibitors, had
quite complicated arrangements of this kind, but they all acted on the
same principle. But all of those who exhibit to the public the freaks
of light are not as honest as Mr. Robertson. You may have heard of
Nostradamus, who also lived in Paris, but long before Robertson, and
who pretended to be a magician. Among other things, he asserted that
he could show people pictures of their future husbands or wives. Marie
de Medicis, a celebrated princess of the time, came to him on this
sensible errand, and he, being very anxious to please her, showed her,
in a looking-glass, the reflected image of Henry of Navarre, sitting
upon the throne of France. This, of course, astonished the princess
very much, but it need not astonish us, if we carefully examine the
picture of that conjuring scene.
[Illustration]
The mirror into which the lady was to look, was in a room adjoining
that in which Henry was sitting on the throne. It was placed at such
an angle that her face would not be reflected in it, but an aperture
in the wall allowed the figure of Henry to be reflected from a
looking-glass, hung near the ceiling, down upon the "magic" mirror.
So, of course, she saw his picture there, and believed entirely in the
old humbug, Nostradamus.
[Illustration]
But there are much simpler methods by which the vagaries of light may
be made amusing, and among the best of these are what are called
"Chinese shadows." These require a little ingenuity, but they are
certainly simple enough. They consist of nothing but a card or paper,
upon which the lights of the picture intended to be represented are
cut out. When this is held between a candle and a wall, a startling
shadow-image may be produced, which one would not imagine to have any
connection with the card, unless he had studied the manner in which
said card was cut. Here is a picture of a company amusing themselves
with these cards. No one would suppose that the card which the young
man is holding in his hand bore the least resemblance to a lion's
head, but there is no mistaking the shadow on the wall.
[Illustration]
The most wonderful public exhibitions of optical illusions have been
those in which a real ghost or spectre apparently moves across the
stage of a theatre. This has frequently been done in late years, both
in this country and Europe. The audiences were perfectly amazed to see
a spirit suddenly appear, walk about the stage, and act like a regular
ghost, who did not seem to be in the least disturbed when an actor
fired a pistol at him, or ran him through with a sword. The method of
producing this illusion is well shown in the accompanying picture. A
large plate of glass is placed in front of the stage so that the
audience does not perceive it. The edges of it must be concealed by
curtains, which are not shown in the picture. An actor, dressed as a
ghost, walks in front of the stage below its level, where he is not
seen by the audience, and a strong electric light being thrown upon
him, his reflected image appears to the spectator as if it were
walking about on the stage. When the light is put out of course the
spirit instantly vanishes.
[Illustration]
A very amusing account is given of a man who was hired to do some work
about a theatre. He had finished his work for the present, and wishing
to eat his supper, which he had brought with him, he chose a nice
quiet place under the stage, where he thought he would not be
disturbed. Not knowing that everything was prepared for the
appearance of a ghost, he sat down in front of the electric lamp, and
as soon as it was lighted the audience was amazed to see, sitting very
comfortably in the air above the stage, a man in his shirt-sleeves,
eating bread and cheese! Little did he think, when he heard the
audience roaring with laughter, that they were laughing at his ghost!
Light plays so many tricks with our eyes and senses that it is
possible to narrate but a few of them here. But those that I have
mentioned are enough to show us what a wild fellow he is, especially
where he and glass get frolicking together.
SAVING THE TOLL.
[Illustration]
When I was a youngster and lived in the country, there were three of
us boys who used to go very frequently to a small village about a mile
from our homes. To reach this village it was necessary to cross a
narrow river, and there was a toll-bridge for that purpose. The toll
for every foot-passenger who went over this bridge was one cent. Now,
this does not seem like a very high charge, but, at that time, we very
often thought that we would much rather keep our pennies to spend in
the village than to pay them to the old man who took toll on the
bridge. But it was often necessary for us to cross the river, and to
do so, and save our money at the same time, we used to adopt a very
hazardous expedient.
At a short distance below the toll-bridge there was a railroad-bridge,
which you cannot see in the picture. This bridge was not intended for
anything but railroad trains; it was very high above the water, it
was very long, and it was not floored. When any one stood on the
cross-ties which supported the rails, he could look right down into
the water far below him. For the convenience of the railroad-men and
others who sometimes were obliged to go on the bridge, there was a
single line of boards placed over the ties at one side of the track,
and there was a slight hand-rail put up at that side of the bridge.
To save our pennies we used to cross this bridge, and every time we
did so we risked our lives.
We were careful, however, not to go on the bridge at times when a
train might be expected to cross it, for when the cars passed us, we
had much rather be on solid ground. But one day, when we had forgotten
the hour; or a train was behind, or ahead of time; or an extra train
was on the road--we were crossing this railroad bridge, and had just
about reached the middle of it, when we heard the whistle of a
locomotive! Looking up quickly, we saw a train, not a quarter of a
mile away, which was coming towards us at full speed. We stood
paralyzed for a moment. We did not know what to do. In a minute, or
less, the train would be on the bridge and we had not, or thought we
had not, time to get off of it, whether we went forward or backward.
But we could not stand on that narrow path of boards while the train
was passing. The cars would almost touch us. What could we do? I
believe that if we had had time, we would have climbed down on the
trestle-work below the bridge, and so let the train pass over us. But
whatever could be done must be done instantly, and we could think of
nothing better than to get outside of the railing and hold on as well
as we could. In this position we would, at any rate, be far enough
from the cars to prevent them from touching us. So out we got, and
stood on the ends of the timbers, holding fast to the slender
hand-rail. And on came the train! When the locomotive first touched
the bridge we could feel the shock, and as it came rattling and
grinding over the rails towards us--coming right on to us, as it
seemed--our faces turned pale, you may well believe.
But the locomotive did not run off the track just at that exact spot
where we were standing--a catastrophe which, I believe, in the bottom
of our hearts, every one of us feared. It passed on, and the train
came thundering after it. How dreadfully close those cars did come to
us! How that bridge did shake and tremble in every timber; and how we
trembled for fear we should be shaken off into the river so far below
us! And what an enormously long train it was! I suppose that it took,
really, but a very short time to pass, but it seemed to us as if there
was no end to it at all, and as if it would never, never get entirely
over that bridge!
But it did cross at last, and went rumbling away into the distance.
Then we three, almost too much frightened to speak to each other,
crept under the rail and hurried over the bridge.
All that anxiety, that fright, that actual misery of mind, and
positive danger of body, to save one cent apiece!
But we never saved any more money in that way. When we crossed the
river after that, we went over the toll-bridge, and we paid our
pennies, like other sensible people.
Had it been positively necessary for us to have crossed that river,
and had there been no other way for us to do it but to go over the
railroad bridge, I think we might have been called brave boys, for the
bridge was very high above the water, and a timid person would have
been very likely to have been frightened when he looked down at his
feet, and saw how easy it would be for him to make a misstep and go
tumbling down between the timbers.
But, as there was no necessity or sufficient reason for our risking
our lives in that manner, we were nothing more or less than three
little fools!
It would be well if all boys or girls, to whom a hazardous feat
presents itself, would ask themselves the question: "Would it be a
brave thing for me to do that, or would I be merely proving myself a
simpleton?"
THE REAL KING OF BEASTS.
[Illustration: A ROYAL PROCESSION.]
For many centuries there has been a usurper on the throne of the
Beasts. That creature is the Lion.
But those who take an interest in the animal kingdom (and I am very
sorry for those who do not) should force the Lion to take off the
crown, put down the sceptre, and surrender the throne to the real King
of Beasts--the Elephant.
There is every reason why this high honor should be accorded to the
Elephant. In the first place, he is physically superior to the Lion.
An Elephant attacked by a Lion could dash his antagonist to the ground
with his trunk, run him through with his tusks, and trample him to
death under his feet. The claws and teeth of the Lion would make no
impression of any consequence on the Elephant's thick skin and massive
muscles. If the Elephant was to decide his claim to the throne by dint
of fighting for it, the Lion would find himself an ex-king in a very
short time. But the Elephant is too peaceful to assert his right in
this way--and, what is more, he does not suppose that any one could
even imagine a Lion to be his superior. He never had such an idea
himself.
But besides his strength of body, the Elephant is superior in
intelligence to all animals, except the dog and man. He is said by
naturalists to have a very fine brain, considering that he is only a
beast. His instinct seems to rise on some occasions almost to the
level of our practical reasoning, and the stories which are told of
his smartness are very many indeed.
But no one can assert that the Lion has any particular intelligence.
To be sure, there have been stories told of his generosity, but they
are not many, and they are all very old. The Elephant proves his
pre-eminence as a thinking beast every day. We see him very
frequently in menageries, and we can judge of what he is capable. We
see the Lion also, and we very soon find out what he can do. He can
lie still and look grave and majestic; he can jump about in his cage,
if he has been trained; and he can eat! He is certainly great in that
respect.
We all know a great deal about the Elephant, how he is caught and
tamed, and made the servant and sometimes the friend of man. This,
however, seldom happens but in India. In Africa they do not often tame
Elephants, as they hunt them generally for the sake of their ivory,
and the poor beasts are killed by hundreds and hundreds so that we may
have billiard-balls, knife-handles, and fine-tooth combs.
Rut whether the Elephant is wanted as a beast of burden, or it is only
his great tusks that are desired, it is no joke to hunt him. He will
not attack a man without provocation (except in very rare cases); when
he does get in a passion it is time for the hunter to look out for his
precious skin. If the man is armed with a gun, he must take the best
of aim, and his bullets must be like young cannon-balls, for the
Elephant's head is hard and his skin is tough. If the hunter is on a
horse, he need not suppose that he can escape by merely putting his
steed to its best speed. The Elephant is big and awkward-looking, but
he gets over the ground in a very rapid manner.
Here is an illustration of an incident in which a boy found out, in
great sorrow and trepidation, how fast an Elephant can run.
This boy was one of the attendants of the Duke of Edinburgh, one of
Queen Victoria's sons, who was hunting Elephants in Africa. The
Elephants which the party were after on that particular day had got
out of the sight of the hunters, and this boy, being mounted on a
horse, went to look them up. It was not long before he found them,
and he also found much more than he had bargained for. He found that
one of the big fellows was very much inclined to hunt _him_ and he
came riding out of the forest as hard as he could go, with a great
Elephant full tilt after him. Fortunately for the boy, the Duke was
ready with his gun, and when the Elephant came dashing up he put two
balls into his head. The great beast dropped mortally wounded, and the
boy was saved. I don't believe that he was so curious about the
whereabouts of Elephants after that.
[Illustration]
When the Elephant is desired as a servant, he is captured in various
ways. Sometimes he is driven into great pens; sometimes he tumbles
into pitfalls, and sometimes tame Elephants coax him into traps, and
fondle and amuse him while their masters tie up his legs with strong
ropes. The pitfalls are not favorite methods of capturing Elephants.
Besides the injury that may be done to the animal, other beasts may
fall into and disturb the trap, and even men may find themselves at
the bottom of a great deep hole when they least expect it, for the top
is very carefully covered over with sticks and leaves, so as to look
as much as possible like the surrounding ground. Du Chaillu, who was a
great hunter in Africa, once fell down one of these pits, and it was a
long time before he could make anybody hear him and come and help him
out. If an Elephant had happened to put his foot on the covering of
that hole while Du Chaillu was down there, the hunter would have found
himself very much crowded.
When the Elephant is caught, he is soon tamed and trained, and then he
goes to work to make himself useful, if there is anything for him to
do. And it is when he becomes the servant and companion of man that we
have an opportunity of seeing what a smart fellow he is.
It is sometimes hard to believe all that we hear of the Elephant's
cleverness and sagacity, but we know that most of the stories we hear
about him are true.
For instance, an Elephant which was on exhibition in this country had
a fast and true friend, a little dog. One day, when these animals were
temporarily residing in a barn, while on their march from one town to
another, the Elephant heard some men teasing the dog, just outside of
the barn. The rough fellows made the poor little dog howl and yelp, as
they persecuted him by all sorts of mean tricks and ill usage. When
the Elephant heard the cries of his friend he became very much
worried, and when at last he comprehended that the dog was being
badly treated, he lifted up his trunk and just smashed a great hole in
the side of the barn, making the stones and boards fly before him.
[Illustration]
When the men saw this great head sticking out through the side of the
barn, and that great long trunk brandishing itself above their heads,
they thought it was time to leave that little dog alone.
Here, again, is an Elephant story which is almost as tough as the
animal's hide, but we have no right to disbelieve it, for it is told
by very respectable writers. During the war between the East Indian
natives and the English, in 1858, there was an Elephant named Kudabar
Moll the Second,--his mother having been a noted Elephant named
Kudabar Moll. This animal belonged to the British army, and his duty
was to carry a cannon on his back. In this way he became very familiar
with artillery. During a battle, when his cannon was posted on a
battery, and was blazing away at the enemy, the good Kudabar was
standing, according to custom, a few paces in the rear of the gunners.
But the fire became very hot on that battery, and very soon most of
the gunners were shot down, so that there was no one to pass the
cartridges from the ammunition wagon to the artillery-men. Perceiving
this, Kudabar, without being ordered, took the cartridges from the
wagon, and passed them, one by one, to the gunner. Very soon, however,
there were only three men left, and these, just as they had loaded
their cannon for another volley, fell killed or wounded, almost at the
same moment. One of them, who held a lighted match in his hand, called
as he fell to the Elephant and handed him the match. The intelligent
Kudabar took the match in his trunk, stepped up to the cannon, and
fired it off!
He was then about to apply the match to others, when re-enforcements
came up, and his services as an artillery-man were no longer required.
I cannot help thinking, that if that Elephant had been furnished with
a pen and ink, he might possibly have written a very good account of
the battle.
But few stories are quite as wonderful as that one. We have no
difficulty at all in believing the account of the Elephant who took
care of a little child. He did not wear a cap and apron, as the artist
has shown in the picture, but he certainly was a very kind and
attentive nurse. When the child fell down, the Elephant would put his
trunk gently around it, and pick it up. When it got tangled among
thorns or vines, the great nurse would disengage it as carefully as
any one could have done it; and when it wandered too far, the Elephant
would bring it back and make it play within proper limits. I do not
know what would have been the consequence if this child had behaved
badly, and the Elephant had thought fit to give it a box on the ear.
But nothing of the kind ever happened, and the child was a great deal
safer than it would have been with many ordinary nurses.
[Illustration]
There are so many stories told about the Elephant that I can allude to
but few, even if I did not believe that you were familiar with a great
many of them.
One of the most humane and thoughtful Elephants of whom I have ever
heard was one which was attached, like our friend Kudabar, to an
artillery train in India. He was walking, on a march, behind a wagon,
when he perceived a soldier slip down in the road and fall exactly
where, in another instant, the hind-wheel of the wagon would pass over
him. Without being ordered, the Elephant seized the wheel with his
trunk, lifted it--wagon and all--in the air, and held it up until it
had passed over the fallen soldier!
Neither you nor I could have done better than that, even if we had
been strong enough.
[Illustration]
A very pretty story is told of an Indian Elephant who was very
gallant. His master, a young Burman lord, had recently been married,
and, shortly after the wedding, he and his bride, with many of their
guests and followers, were gathered together in the veranda, on the
outside of his house. The Elephant, who was a great favorite with the
young lord, happened to be conducted past the house as the company
were thus enjoying themselves. Feeling, no doubt, that it was right to
be as polite as possible on this occasion, he put his trunk over a
bamboo-fence which enclosed a garden, and selecting the biggest and
brightest flower he could see, he approached the veranda, and rearing
himself upon his hind-legs, he stretched out his trunk, with the
flower held delicately in the little finger at its end, towards the
company. One of the women reached out her hand for it, but the
Elephant would not give it to her. Then his master wished to take it,
but the Elephant would not let him have it. But when the newly-made
bride came forward the Elephant presented it to her with all the grace
of which he was capable!
[Illustration]
Now, do you not think that an animal which is larger and more powerful
than any beast which walks the earth, and is, at the same time, gentle
enough to nurse a child, humane enough to protect a dog or a man, and
sensible enough to be polite to a newly-married lady, is deserving of
the title of the King of Beasts?
THE FRENCH SOLDIER-BOY
[Illustration]
Anxiously the General-in-chief of the French Army stood upon a little
mound overlooking the battle-field. The cannon were thundering, the
musketry was rattling, and clouds of smoke obscured the field and the
contending armies.
"Ah!" thought he, "if that town over yonder is not taken; if my brave
captains fall, and my brave soldiers falter at that stone wall; and if
our flag shall not soon wave over those ramparts, France may yet be
humbled."
Is it, then, a wonder, feeling that so much depended on the result of
this battle, that his eyes strove so earnestly to pierce the heavy
clouds of smoke that overhung the scene?
But while he stood, there came towards him, galloping madly out of the
battle, a solitary rider.
In a few minutes he had reached the General, and thrown himself from
his saddle.
It was a mere boy--one of the very youngest of soldiers!
"Sire!" he cried, "we've taken the town! Our men are in the
market-place, and you can ride there now! And see!--upon the
walls--our flag!"
The eyes of the General flashed with joy and triumph. Here was
glorious news!
As he turned to the boy to thank him for the more than welcome tidings
that he brought, he noticed that the lad was pale and trembling, and
that as he stood holding by the mane of his horse, his left hand was
pressed upon his chest, and the blood was slowly trickling between his
fingers.
"My boy!" said he, tenderly, as he fixed his eyes upon the stripling,
"you're wounded!"
"No, sire!" cried the boy, his pale face flushing as his General thus
addressed him, and the shouts of victory filled his ears, "I am not
wounded; I am killed!" And down at his General's feet he fell and
died.
There have been brave men upon the battle-field ever since the world
began, but there never was a truer soldier's heart than that which
kept this boy alive until he had borne to his General the glorious
news of the battle won.
A LIVELY WAY TO RING A BELL.
[Illustration]
Here are two young men who look very much as if they were trying to
break their necks; but in reality they have no such desire.
They are simply ringing that great bell, and riding backward and
forward on it as it swings through the air.
These young fellows are Spaniards, and in many churches in their
country it is considered a fine thing to go up into the belfry of a
church or cathedral, and, when the regular bell-ringers are tired, to
jump on the great bells and swing away as hard as they can make them
go. No matter about any particular peal or style of ringing.
The faster and the more furiously they swing, the jollier the ride,
and the greater the racket. Sometimes in a cathedral there are twenty
bells, all going at once, with a couple of mad chaps riding on each
one of them. It is, doubtless, a very pleasant amusement, after one
gets used to it, but it is a wonder that some of those young men are
not shot off into the air, when the great bell gets to swinging as
fast and as far as it can go.
But although they hold on as tightly as if they were riding a wild
young colt, they are simply foolhardy. No man or boy has a right to
risk his life and limbs in such reckless feats.
There is no probability, however, of the sport ever being introduced
into this country.
Even if there were no danger in it, such a clatter and banging as is
heard in a Spanish belfry, when the young men are swinging on the
bells, would never be allowed in our churches. The Spaniards may like
such a noise and hubbub, but they like a great many things which would
not suit us.
DOWN IN THE EARTH.
[Illustration]
Let us take a little trip down under the surface of the earth. There
will be something unusual about such an excursion. Of course, as we
are not going to dig our way, we will have to find a convenient hole
somewhere, and the best hole for the purpose which I know of is in
Edmondson County, Kentucky.
So let us go there.
When we reach this hole we find that it is not a very large one, but
still quite high and wide enough for us to enter. But, before we go in
to that dark place, we will get some one to carry a light and guide
us; for this underground country which we are going to explore is very
extensive, very dark, and, in some places, very dangerous.
Here is a black man who will go with us. He has a lantern, and he says
he knows every nook and corner of the place. So we engage him, get
some lanterns for ourselves, and in we go. We commence to go downwards
very soon after we have passed from the outer air and sunshine, but it
is not long before we stand upon a level surface, where we can see
nothing of the outside world. If our lanterns went out, we should be
in pitchy darkness.
Now we are in the Mammoth Cave of Kentucky!
This vast cavern, which stretches so many miles beneath the surface of
the earth, has never been fully explored; but we are going over as
much of it as our guide is accustomed to show to visitors, and if our
legs are not tired before we get back I shall be very much surprised,
for the trip will take us all day. The floor on which we are now
standing is smooth and level, and runs back into the interior of the
cave fully a thousand yards. This place they call the "Audubon
Gallery"--after our famous naturalist who made birds the study of his
life. His works are published in enormous volumes, costing about one
hundred and fifty dollars apiece. Perhaps your father will get you
one.
We pass quickly through this gallery, where there is not much to see,
although, to be sure, they used to manufacture saltpetre here. Think
of that! A manufactory in the bowels of the earth! Then we enter a
large, roundish room called the "Rotunda," and from this there are a
great many passages, leading off in various directions. One of these,
which is called the "Grand Vestibule," will take us to the "Church."
Yes, we have a church here, and, what is more, there has been
preaching in it, although I have never heard that it had any regular
members. This room has a vast arched roof, and a great many
stalactites hang from the walls and roof in such a way as to give one
an idea of Gothic architecture. Therefore this has been called the
"Gothic Church." You can see a great deal which looks like
old-fashioned church ornaments and furniture, and, as the light of the
lanterns flashes about on the walls and ceiling, you can imagine a
great deal more.
After this we come to the "Gothic Avenue," which would be a very
interesting place to us if we but had a little more time; but we hurry
through it, for the next room we are to visit is called the "Haunted
Chamber!" Every one of us must be very anxious to see anything of that
kind. When we get into it, however, we are very much disappointed. It
is not half so gloomy and dark as the rest of the cave, for here we
are pretty sure to find people, and lights, and signs of life.
Here you may sometimes buy gingerbread and bottled beer, from women
who have stands here for that purpose. It is expected that when
visitors get this far they will be hungry. Sometimes, too, there are
persons who live down here, and spend most of their time in this
chamber. These are invalid people with weak lungs, who think that the
air of the cave is good for them. I do not know whether they are right
or not, but I am sure that they take very gloomy medicine. The only
reason for calling this room the Haunted Chamber is, that the first
explorers of the cave found mummies here.
Who these were when they were alive, no man can say. If they were
Indians, they were very different Indians from those who have lived in
this country since its discovery. They do not make mummies. But all
over our land we find evidences that some race--now extinct--lived
here before the present North American Indian.
Whether the ghosts of any of these mummies walk about in this room. I
cannot say; but as no one ever saw any, or heard any, or knew anybody
who had seen or heard any, I think it is doubtful.
When we leave this room we go down some ladders and over a bridge, and
then we enter what is called the "Labyrinth," where the passage turns
and twists on itself in a very abrupt manner, and where the roof is so
low that all of us, except those who are very short indeed, must stoop
very low. When we get through this passage, which some folks call the
"Path of Humiliation"--for everybody has to bow down, you know--we
come to a spot where the guide says he is going to show us something
through a window.
The window is nothing but a hole broken in a rocky wall; but as we
look through it, and hold the lanterns so that we can see as much as
possible, we perceive that we are gazing down into a deep and enormous
well. They call it the "Bottomless Pit." If we drop bits of burning
paper into this well we can see them fall down, down, and down, until
they go out, but can never see them stop, as if they had reached the
bottom.
The hole through which we are looking is cut through one side of this
well, so that there is a great deal of it above us as well as below;
but although we hold our lanterns up, hoping to see the top, we can
see nothing but pitchy darkness up there. The roof of this pit is too
high for the light to strike upon it. Here is a picture of some
persons dropping lights down into this pit, hoping to be able to see
the bottom.
We must climb up and down some more ladders now, and then we will
reach the "Mammoth Dome." This is a vast room--big enough for a
gymnasium for giants--and the roof is so high that no ordinary light
will show it. It is nearly four hundred feet from the floor. The next
room we visit is one of the most beautiful places in the whole cave.
It is called the Starry Chamber. The roof and walls and floor are
covered with little bright bits of stone, which shine and glitter,
when a light is brought into the room, like real stars in the sky. If
the guide is used to his business, he can here produce most beautiful
effects. By concealing his lantern behind a rock or pillar, and then
gradually bringing it out, throwing more and more light upon the roof,
he can create a most lovely star-light scene.
[Illustration]
At first all will be dark, and then a few stars will twinkle out, and
then there will be more of them, and each one will be brighter, and at
last you will think you are looking up into a dark sky full of
glorious shining stars! And if you look at the walls you will see
thousands of stars that seem as if they were dropping from the sky;
and if you cast your eyes upon the ground, you will see it covered
with other thousands of stars that seem to have already fallen!
This is a lovely place, but we cannot stay here any longer. We want to
reach the underground stream of which we have heard so much--the
"River Styx."
This is a regular river, running through a great part of the Mammoth
Cave. You may float on it in a boat, and, if you choose, you may fish
in it, although you would not be likely to catch anything. But if you
did, the fish would have no eyes! All the fish in this river are
blind. You can easily perceive that eyes would be of no use in a place
where it is always as dark as pitch, except when travellers come along
with their lanterns.
There is a rough boat here, and we will get into it and have a row
over this dark and gloomy river. Whenever our guide shouts we hear the
wildest kind of echoes, and everything seems solemn and unearthly. At
one time our boat stops for a moment, and the guide goes on shore, and
directly we hear the most awful crash imaginable. It sounds as if a
dozen gong-factories had blown up at once, and we nearly jump out of
the boat! But we soon see that it was nothing but the guide striking
on a piece of sheet-iron or tin. The echoes, one after another, from
this noise had produced the horrible crashing sounds we had heard.
After sailing along for about half an hour we land, and soon reach an
avenue which has its walls ornamented with beautiful flowers--all
formed on the rocky walls by the hand of Nature.
Now we visit the "Ball Room," which is large and handsome, with its
walls as white as snow. Leaving this, we take a difficult and exciting
journey to the "Rocky Mountains." We go down steep paths, which are
narrow, and up steep ones, which are wide; we jump over wide cracks
and step over great stones, and we are getting very tired of
scrambling about in the bowels of the earth; but the guide tells us
that if we will but cross the "mountains"--which we find to be nothing
more than great rocks, which have fallen from the roof above, but
which, however, are not very easy to get over--we shall rest in the
"Fairy Grotto." So on we push, and reach the delightful abode of the
fairies of the Mammoth Cave. That is, if there were any fairies in
this cave, they would live here.
And a splendid place they would have!
Great colonnades and magnificent arches, all ornamented with beautiful
stalactites of various forms, and glittering like cut-glass in the
light of our lanterns, and thousands of different ornaments of
sparkling stone, many of them appearing as if they were cut by the
hand of skilful artists, adorn this beautiful grotto. At one end there
is a group of stalactites, which looks to us exactly like a graceful
palm-tree cut out of alabaster. All over the vast hall we can hear the
pattering and tinkling of the water, which has been dripping, drop by
drop, for centuries, and making, as it carried with it little
particles of earth and rock, all these beautiful forms which we see.
We have now walked nearly five miles into the great cave, and there is
much which we have not seen. But we must go back to the upper earth.
We will have a tiresome trip of it, but it is seldom that we can get
anything good without taking a little trouble for it. And to have seen
this greatest of all natural caverns is worth far more labor and
fatigue than we have expended on its exploration. There is nothing
like it in the known world.
THE LION.
[Illustration: THE LION'S HOME.]
I do not desire to be wanting in respect to the Lion. Because I
asserted that it was my opinion that he should resign the throne of
the King of Beasts to the Elephant, I do not wish to deprive him of
any part of his just reputation.
The Lion, with the exception of any animal but the Elephant, the
Rhinoceros, the Hippopotamus, and such big fellows, is the strongest
of beasts. Compared to Tigers and Panthers, he is somewhat generous,
and compared to most of the flesh-eating animals, he is quite
intelligent. Lions have been taught to perform certain feats when in a
state of captivity; but, as all of us know who have seen the
performing animals in a menagerie, he is by no means the equal of a
Dog or an Elephant.
The Lion appears to the greatest advantage in the midst of his family.
When he and his wife are taking their walks abroad they will often fly
before a man, especially if he is a white man.
But at home, surrounded by their little ones, the case is different.
Those cubs, in the picture of the Lion's home, are nice little
fellows, and you might play with them without fear of more than a few
scratches. But where is the brave man who would dare to go down among
those rocks, armed with guns, pistols, or whatever he pleased, and
take one of them!
I do not think he lives in your town.
We never see a Lion looking very brave or noble in a cage. Most of
those that I have seen appeared to me to be excessively lazy. They had
not half the spirit of the tigers and wolves. But, out in his native
country, he presents a much more imposing spectacle, especially if
one can get a full view of him when he is a little excited. Here is a
picture of such a Lion as you will not see in a cage.
[Illustration]
Considering his size, the strength of the Lion is astonishing. He will
kill an ox with one blow of his great paw, if he strikes it on the
back, and then seizing it in his great jaws, he will carry it off
almost as easily as you could carry a baby.
