The Project Gutenberg eBook ofAnecdotes of Animals

The Project Gutenberg eBook ofAnecdotes of AnimalsThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: Anecdotes of AnimalsAuthor: UnknownIllustrator: Percy J. BillinghurstRelease date: May 11, 2008 [eBook #25428]Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Jacqueline Jeremy, Janet Blenkinship and theOnline Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net(This file was produced from images generously madeavailable by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANECDOTES OF ANIMALS ***

This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

Title: Anecdotes of AnimalsAuthor: UnknownIllustrator: Percy J. BillinghurstRelease date: May 11, 2008 [eBook #25428]Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Jacqueline Jeremy, Janet Blenkinship and theOnline Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net(This file was produced from images generously madeavailable by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)

Title: Anecdotes of Animals

Author: UnknownIllustrator: Percy J. Billinghurst

Author: Unknown

Illustrator: Percy J. Billinghurst

Release date: May 11, 2008 [eBook #25428]

Language: English

Credits: Produced by Jacqueline Jeremy, Janet Blenkinship and theOnline Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net(This file was produced from images generously madeavailable by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANECDOTES OF ANIMALS ***

An Animal Concert.—Page 5An Animal Concert.—Page 5

McLOUGHLIN BROS.NEW YORK

AAmusing Mimic, An24Animal Concerts5Are Beasts mere Machines?182Asking Assistance166Ass Castaway, An184BBear and Child, The18Bear Cubs, The162Broken Heart, The60CCarrier's Dog, A160Cat and the Crows, The30Catcher Caught, The154Charitable Canary, A148Child Saved, A190Choosing the Least of Two Evils150Clever Crow, A20Comedy of Elephants, A64Crab Fishing86Cunning as a Fox66DDeath of Antiochus Revenged, The78Deceiving the Fowler164Dinner Bell, The118Division of Labor144Dog and the Goose, The76Dog of Montargis, The84Dog Sheep-stealer, A40Dog Smugglers168Dolphin, The50Drawing Water58EElephant's Revenge, An104Elephant Rope Dancing72Escape of Jengis Khan178FFaithful Companion, A70Faithful, Though Unloved68Faithful unto Death112False Alarm, A188Filial Duty38Foraging120Fox Chasing94GGoat, The92Going to Market152Good Finder, A52Grateful Lioness, A10Grateful Return, A138HHeroism of an Irish Hen32Honors to the Living and the Dead108Horse and Greyhound, The88Humane Society, A172JJust Retaliation48LLion and his Keeper126Long Lost Found Again82MMaking Sure16Mice as Sailors56Monkey versus Snake110Mother's Affection, A42Mother Watching her Young, A174Musical Mice158Musical Seals113NNewfoundland Dog, The6Noble Perseverance28Noble Revenge, A80OOdd Family, An49Old Habits27Ostrich Riding100PPig Pointer, The134Porus Saved by his Elephant170Power of Music, The22Providential Safe Conduct, A74QQuarrelsome Apes186RRare Honesty142Refugee Squirrel, A176Remarkable Newsman, A12Remorse62Retribution102Revenge54Rights of Hospitality, The96SSabinus and his Dog46Sharp-witted Bruin14Shepherd's Dog, The34Shrewd Guesser, A180Sly Couple, A98Snake Destroyers156Sonnini and his Cat116Strange Foster Mother, A114Strange Mouser, A44Strange Playmates106Strange Protector, A124Strange Rooks130Studying8TTalking Parrot, A146Tame Colony, A161Tame Hares132Tame Seagull, The122Travellers36UUsurper Punished, A128WWatch Dog, The90Wise Ourang-Outang136Wrens Learning to Sing140

An abbot, a man of wit, and skilled in the making of new musical instruments, was ordered by Louis XI., king of France, more in jest than earnest, to procure him a concert of swines' voices. The abbot said that the thing could doubtless be done, but it would cost a good deal of money. The king ordered that he should have as much as he required for the purpose. The abbot then contrived as strange a thing as ever was seen. Out of a great number of hogs of various ages, which he got together under a tent, or pavilion, covered with velvet, and before which he had a table of wood painted with a certain number of keys, he made an organical instrument, and as he played upon the keys with little spikes which pricked the hogs, he made them cry in such order and consonance that he highly delighted the king and all his company.

One of the magistrates in Harbor Grace, in Newfoundland, had an old dog of the regular web-footed species peculiar to that island, who was in the habit of carrying a lantern before his master at night, as steadily as the most attentive servant could do, stopping short when his master made a stop, and going ahead when he was ready to follow.

If his master was away from home, and the command was given “Go fetch thy master,” he would at once pick up the lantern, hold it fast between his teeth, and start for the town, which was more than a mile away from the home of his master. He would stop at the door of every house which he knew his master was in the habit of visiting, and laying down his lantern, growl and strike the door making all the noise in his power, until it was opened. If his master was not in the house, he would go on farther in the same way, till he found him. If he had gone with him only once to a house, this was enough to make him take in that house in his rounds.

A magpie belonging to a barber in Rome, could imitate very perfectly almost everything it heard. Some trumpets happened one day to be sounded before the shop, and for a day or two afterward the magpie was quite mute, and seemed sad and melancholy. All who knew it supposed that the sound of the trumpets had so stunned it as to rob it at once of both voice and hearing.

But this was not the case, as very soon appeared. The bird had all this time been studying how to imitate the sound of the trumpets; and when at last master of it, the magpie, to the astonishment of all its friends, suddenly broke its long silence by a perfect imitation of the flourish of trumpets it had heard; repeating with the greatest exactness all the repetitions, stops, and changes. The learning of this lesson, however, so exhausted the magpie's brain that it forgot everything it had known before.

A dreadful famine raged at Buenos Ayres, yet the governor, afraid of giving the Indians a habit of spilling Spanish blood, forbade the people, on pain of death, to go into the fields in search of food, and he placed soldiers at all outlets to the country, with orders to fire upon those who should try to disobey him.

However, a woman, called Maldonata, was artful enough to get past the watchful guards, and made her escape. After wandering about the country for a long time, she came upon a cave into which she went. As soon as she was inside, she saw therein a lioness, the sight of which frightened her greatly. She was, however, soon quieted by the caresses of the animal, who in return for a service done for her by the woman, showed every sign of affection and friendliness. She never returned from searching after her own daily food without laying a part of it at the feet of Maldonata, until her cubs were large and strong enough to walk abroad, then she took them out one day and never came back.

Some time after this Maldonata fell into the hands of the Spaniards, and was brought back to Buenos Ayres on the charge of having left the city contrary to orders. The governor, a man of cruelty, condemned the poor woman to a death which none but the most-cruel tyrant could have thought of. He ordered some soldiers totake her out into the country, and leave her tied to a tree, either to die of hunger, or be torn to pieces by the wild beasts. Two days later, he sent the same soldiers to see what had happened to her. To their great surprise, they found her alive and unhurt, though surrounded by lions and tigers, which a lioness at her feet kept at some distance. As soon as the lioness saw the soldiers, she fell back a little, so they were able to unbind Maldonata, who told them the story of this lioness, whom she knew to be the same one she had formerly helped in the cavern. When the soldiers were taking Maldonata away, the lioness fawned upon her, as though unwilling to part from her. The soldiers repeated the story to their commander, who could do no less than pardon the woman who had been so wonderfully protected, or he would have proven himself less humane than the lions themselves.

One of the carriers of a large newspaper being ill, his son took his place; but, not knowing the subscribers he was to supply, he took for his guide a dog which had usually gone over the route with his father. The animal trotted on ahead of the boy and stopped at every door where the paper was to be left, without making a single mistake, or forgetting anybody.

The captain of a Greenland whaler being anxious to secure a bear, without wounding the skin, made trial of the trick of laying a noose of rope in the snow, and placing a piece of meat within it. A bear, roaming over the ice nearby was soon attracted to the spot by the smell of the dainty morsel. He saw the bait, crept up cautiously, and seized it in his mouth; but his foot at the same time, by a jerk of the rope, became entangled in the noose. He quietly pushed it off with his paw, and walked slowly away. Having eaten the piece he had carried away with him, he returned. The noose, with another piece of meat, having been replaced, he pushed the rope aside, and again walked off with his capture. A third time the noose was laid, but having seen how clever the bear was, the sailors buried the rope beneath the snow, and laid the bait in a deep hole dug in the centre. The bear once more came back, and the sailors thought they were now sure of success. But bruin, much wiser than they expected, after snuffing about the place for a few moments, scraped the snow away with his paws, threw the rope aside once more, and again escaped unhurt with his prize.

During the war between Augustus Cæsar and Mark Antony, when all the world stood wondering and uncertain as to which one Fortune would favor, a poor man at Rome, in order to be prepared for making, in either event, a bold move for his own advancement, hit upon the following clever plan. He set himself to the training of two crows with such great care, that at length he had taught them to pronounce with great distinctness, the one a salutation to Cæsar, and the other a salutation to Antony.

When Augustus returned the conqueror, the man went out to meet him with the proper crow perched on his fist, and every now and then it kept calling out, “Salve,Cæsar,Victor Imperator!” “Hail, Cæsar, Conqueror and Imperator!” Augustus, greatly amused and delighted with so novel a greeting, bought the gifted bird of the man for a sum which was so large that it made him rich.

Leopold, Duke of Lorraine, had a bear called Marco, of whose sagacity we have this remarkable story. One cold winter day, a boy, almost frozen with the cold, entered Marco's hut, without thinking of the danger which he ran in thus exposing himself to the mercy of the animal which was in there. Marco, however, instead of doing the child any injury, took him between his paws, and warmed him by pressing him to his breast until the next morning, when he let him go. The boy came back to the hut in the evening, and was received with the same affection. For several days he had no other home, and it added not a little to his joy to see that the bear always saved part of his food for him. A number of days passed in this way without the servants knowing anything of what was going on. At length, when one of them came one day, rather later than usual, to bring the bear his supper, he was greatly surprised to see the huge animal roll his eyes in a furious manner, and act as if he wished him to make as little noise as possible, for fear of awaking the child whom he held clasped to his breast. The animal, though very hungry, did not seem to be the least moved by the sight of the food which was placed before him. The story of this strange incident was soon spread at court, and reached the ears ofLeopold; who, with part of his courtiers, was anxious to learn if the tale of Marco's generosity were true. Several of them spent the night near his hut, and saw with astonishment that the bear never stirred as long as his guest showed a desire to sleep. At dawn the child awoke, was very much ashamed to find that he was discovered, and, fearing that he would be punished, begged pardon. The bear, however, caressed him, and tried to get him to eat what had been brought to him the evening before. He did this at the request of the courtiers, who conducted him to the prince. Having learned the whole story, Leopold ordered the little boy to be taken care of, and he would, no doubt, have soon made his fortune, had he not died a short time afterward.

A carrion crow, seeing on a lawn, a brood of fourteen chickens under the care of a mother-hen, picked up one; but when a young lady opened a window and gave the alarm, the robber dropped his prey. In the course of the day, however, the thief returned, together with thirteen other crows. Then each one seized a chick, and thus the whole brood was carried off at once.

One Sunday evening, five singers were walking on the banks of a river. After some time, being tired with walking, they sat down on the grass, and began to sing. The field on which they sat was bounded on one side by a wood, out of which, as they were singing, they noticed a hare pass with great swiftness toward the place where they were sitting, and at about twenty yards' distance from them, it stopped. It then seemed greatly delighted with the music, often turning up the side of its head so as to hear more easily. As soon as the singing was over, the hare returned slowly toward the wood. When she had nearly reached the end of the field, the singers began to sing the same piece again. The hare stopped, turned round, and came swiftly back to about the same distance as before, where she seemed to listen with great delight, till they had finished, when she returned again by a slow pace up the field, and entered the wood.

A priest once brought up an ourang-outang, which became so fond of him that, wherever he went, it always wanted to go with him. Whenever, therefore, he had to perform the service of his church, he was obliged to shut him up in his room. Once, however, the animal got out, and followed the father to the church. Silently mounting the sounding board above the pulpit, he lay perfectly still till the sermon commenced. He then crept to the edge, and looking at the preacher, imitated all his gestures in so amusing a manner that the congregation could not help laughing. The father, surprised and confused by this ill-timed mirth, severely rebuked his audience for their inattention. The reproof failed in its effect; the congregation still laughed, and the preacher in the warmth of his zeal, spoke with still more force and action. The ape mimicked him so exactly that the congregation could no longer restrain itself, but burst out into long and continued laughter. A friend of the preacher at length stepped up to him, and pointed out the cause of this improper conduct; and such was the roguish air of the animal that it was with the utmost difficulty that the preacher himself kept from laughing, while he ordered the servants of the church to take the mischievous ape away.

A famous Scotch lawyer, having cause to visit London, decided to make the journey on horseback rather than by post; for this was before the days of railways. He, therefore, purchased a horse, and on his arrival in London, sold his nag, planning to buy another for the return journey. When he had finished his business, and was ready to set out for home, he went to Smithfield to buy another horse. About dusk, a handsome horse was offered to him at so cheap a rate, that he suspected the animal might not be sound; but as he could not find anything the matter with the horse, he bought it. Next morning he set out on his journey; his horse had excellent paces, and the first few miles, while the road was well frequented, our traveller spent in congratulating himself on his good fortune. On Finchley Common the traveller met a clergyman driving a one-horse chaise. There was nobody within sight, and the horse by his actions plainly showed what had been the business of his former master. Instead of passing the chaise, he laid his breast close up to it, and stopped it, having no doubt that his rider would take advantage of so fair a chance of following his trade. The clergyman, under the same mistake, took out his purse without being asked, and assured the innocent and surprised horseman that it wasnot necessary to draw his pistol. The traveler drew back his horse with apologies to the gentleman, whom he had unwillingly frightened, and pursued his journey. The horse next made the same suspicious approach to a coach, from the windows of which a blunderbuss was leveled, with threats of death to the rider, who was innocent of all offense in deed or word. In short, after his life had been once or twice endangered by the suspicions to which his horse's conduct gave rise, and his liberty as often threatened by peace officers, who were disposed to seize him as a notorious highwayman, he found himself obliged to part with the animal for a mere trifle, and had to purchase at a dearer rate, a horse of less fine figure and action but of better morals.

Elephants were, of old, employed in India in the launching of ships. It is told of one, that, being directed to force a very large ship into the water, the work proved to much for its strength. Its master, in sarcastic tones bade the keeper take away the lazy beast, and bring another. The poor animal instantly put forth still greater efforts, fractured his skull, and died on the spot.

A pair of crows once made their nest in one of the trees that were planted round the garden of a gentleman, who, in his morning walks, was often amused by watching furious combats between the crows and a cat. One morning the battle raged more fiercely than usual, till at last the cat gave way, and took shelter under a hedge, as if to wait a better chance of escaping to the house. The crows continued for a short time to make a threatening noise; but seeing that on the ground they could do nothing more than threaten, one of them lifted a stone from the middle of the garden, and perched with it on a tree planted in the hedge, where she sat, watching the movements of the cat, who, she feared, was after her little ones. As the cat crept along under the hedge, the crow followed her, flying from branch to branch, and from tree to tree; and when at last puss dared to leave her hiding place, the crow, leaving the tree, and hovering over her in the air, let the stone drop from on high on her back.

A contest of rather an unusual nature took place in the house of an innkeeper in Ireland. The parties engaged were a hen of the game species and a rat of middle size. The hen, in a walk round a spacious room, accompanied by an only chicken, the last one left of a large brood, was roused to madness by an attack made by a fierce rat on her helpless little one. The frightened cries of her beloved little chick, while it was being dragged away by the rat, awoke all the mother-love in the bosom of the hen. She flew at the corner whence he had taken her child, seized him by the neck, dragged him about the room, put out one of his eyes, and so tired him by repeated attacks of spur and bill, that in the space of twelve minutes, during which time the conflict lasted, she killed the rat, nimbly turned round in triumph to her frightened nestling, and lovingly sheltered it beneath her protecting wings.

James Hogg, the shepherd poet, had a dog named Sirrah, who was for many years his sole companion. He was, the shepherd says, the best dog he ever saw, in spite of his surly manners and unattractive appearance. The first time he saw the dog, a drover was leading him by a rope, and, although hungry and lean, “I thought,” Hogg tells us, “I saw a sort of sullen intelligence in his face, so I gave the drover a guinea for him. I believe there was never a guinea so well spent. He was scarcely a year old then, and knew nothing of herding; but as soon as he found out that it was his duty to do so, I can never forget with what eagerness he learned. He would try every way till he found out what I wanted him to do; and when once I made him understand a direction, he never forgot or mistook it again.”

About seven hundred lambs, which were at once under Mr. Hogg's care, broke up at midnight, and scampered off in three divisions across the hills, in spite of all that the shepherd and an assistant lad could do to keep them together. “Sirrah,” cried the shepherd, in great alarm, “my man, they're awa.” The night was so dark that he did not see Sirrah, but the faithful dog had heard his master's words, and without more ado he set off in quest of theflock. The shepherd and his companion spent the whole of the night in scouring the hills, but of neither lambs nor Sirrah could they obtain the slightest trace. “We had nothing for it,” says the shepherd, “but to return to our master and tell him that we had lost his whole flock of lambs. On our way home, however, we came suddenly upon a body of lambs at the bottom of a deep ravine, and in front of them was sitting Sirrah, who was looking around for help. We decided that here was at least one of the divisions which Sirrah had managed to collect; but what was our astonishment when we discovered that not one of the whole flock was missing. How he had got all the divisions together in the dark is beyond my comprehension. I never felt so grateful to any creature under the sun as I did to my honest Sirrah that morning.”


Back to IndexNext