 Section 17 of the Animal Story Book, edited by Andrew Lang. In order to lead to more incidents in the life of Pritchard, I must now tell my readers that I had a friend called Charpillan, who had a passion for poultry and kept the finest hens in the whole Department of Yon. These hens were chiefly cautions in Brahmaputras. They laid the most beautiful brown eggs, and Charpillan surrounded them with every luxury and never would allow them to be killed. He had the inside of his henhouse painted green in order that the hens, even when shut up, might fancy themselves in a meadow. In fact, the illusion was so complete that when the henhouse was first painted, the hens refused to go in at night, fearing to catch cold. But after a short time, even the least intelligent among them understood that she had the good fortune to belong to a master who knew how to combine the useful with the beautiful. Whenever these hens ventured out upon the road, strangers would exclaim with delight, Oh, what beautiful hens, to which someone better acquainted with the wonders of this fortunate village would apply, I should think so. These are M. Charpillan's hens, or if the speaker were of an envious disposition, he might add, Yes, indeed, hens that nothing is thought too good for. When my friend Charpillan heard that I had returned from Paris, he invited me to come and stay with him to shoot, adding as a further inducement that he would give me the best and freshest eggs I had ever eaten in my life. Though I did not share Charpillan's great love of poultry, I am very fond of fresh eggs, and the Nain King colored eggs laid by his Brahma hens had an especially delicate flavor, but all earthly pleasures are uncertain. The next morning Charpillan's hens were found to have only laid three eggs instead of eight, such a thing had never happened before, and Charpillan did not know whom to suspect, however he suspected everyone rather than his hens, and a sort of cloud began to obscure the confidence he had hitherto placed in the security of his enclosures. While his gloomy doubts were occupying us, I observed Michel hovering about as if he had something on his mind, and asked him if he wanted to speak to me. I should be glad to have a few words with you, sir. In private? It would be better so, for the honor of Prichard. Ah, indeed. What has the rascal been doing now? You remember, sir, what your solicitor said to you one day when I was in the room? What did he say, Michel? My solicitor is a clever man, and says many sensible things. Still, it is difficult for me to remember them all. Well, sir, he said, find out whom the crime was. He said, find out whom the crime benefits, and you will find the criminal. I remember that axiom perfectly, Michel. Well, well, sir, whom can this crime of stolen eggs benefit more than Prichard? Prichard, you think it was he who stole the eggs? Prichard, who brings home eggs without breaking them? You mean who used to bring them? Prichard is an animal who has vicious instincts, sir. And if he does not come to a bed in some day, I shall be surprised that's all. Does Prichard eat eggs, then? He does. And it is only right to say, sir, that that is your fault. What? My fault? My fault that Prichard eats eggs? Michel shook his head sadly, but nothing could shake his opinion. Now, really, Michel, this is too much. Is it not enough that critics tell me that I pervert everybody's mind with my corrupt literature? But you must join my detractors and say that my bad example corrupts Prichard? I beg pardon, sir. But do you remember how one day at Villa Medici's while you were eating an egg? Elmer Scone, who was there, said something so ridiculous that you let the egg fall upon the floor? I remember that quite well. And do you remember calling in Prichard, who was scraping up a bed of fuchsias in the garden, and making him lick up the egg? I do not remember him scraping up a bed of fuchsias, but I do recollect that he licked up my egg. Well, sir, it is that and nothing else that has been his ruin. Oh, he is quick enough to learn what is wrong. There is no need to show him twice. Michel, you are really extremely tedious. How have I shown Prichard what is wrong? By making him eat an egg, you see, sir. Before that, he was as innocent as a newborn babe. He didn't know what an egg was. He thought it was a badly made golf ball. But as soon as you make him eat an egg, he learns what it is. Three days afterwards, M. Alexandra came home and was complaining to me of his dog that he was rough and tore things with his teeth and carrying them. Ah, look at Prichard, I said to him. How gentle he is. You shall see the way he carries an egg. So I fetched an egg from the kitchen, placed it underground, and said, Fetched Prichard. Prichard didn't need to be told twice. But what do you think the cunning rascal did? You remember some days before Monsieur, the gentleman who had such a bad toothache, you know, you recollect him coming to see you? Yes, of course I remember. Well, Prichard pretended not to notice. But those yellow eyes of his noticed everything. Well, all of a sudden he pretended to have the same toothache that that gentleman had. And crack goes the egg. Then he pretends to be ashamed of his awkwardness. He swallows it in a hurry. Shell and all. I believed him. I thought it was an accident and fetched another egg. Scarcely did he make three steps with the egg in his mouth and the toothache comes on again. And crack goes the second egg. I began then to suspect something. I went and got a third. But if I hadn't stopped then he'd have eaten a whole basketful. So then M. Alexandria, who likes his joke, said, Michelle, you may possibly make a good musician of Prichard or a good astronomer, but he'll never be a good incubator. How is it that you never told me this before, Michelle? Because I was ashamed, sir, or this is not the worst. What? Not the worst? Michelle shook his head. He has developed an unnatural craving for eggs. He got into Emma Coyer's poultry yard and stole all his. Emma Coyer came to complain to me. How do you suppose he lost his foot? You told me yourself. In somebody's grounds where he had forgotten to read the notice about trespassing. You are joking, sir, but really I believe he can read. Oh, Michelle, Prichard is accused of enough sins without having that vice laid on his charge. But about his foot? I think he caught it in some wire getting out of a poultry yard. But you know it happened at night and the hens are shut up at night. How could he get into the henhouse? He doesn't need to get into the henhouse after eggs. He can charm the hens. Prichard is what one might call a charmer. Michelle, you astonished me more and more. Yes, indeed, sir. I knew that he used to charm the hens at the Vilimidesis. Only M. Charpalon has such wonderful hens. I did not think they would have allowed it. What I see now all hens are alike. Then you think it is Prichard who I think he charms M. Charpalon's hens. And that is the reason they don't lay. At least, that is, that they only lay for Prichard. Indeed, Michelle, I should much like to know how he does it. If you are awake very early tomorrow, sir, just look out your window. You can see the poultry yard from it. And you will see a sight that you have never seen before. I have seen many things, Michelle, including sixteen changes of governments. And to see something I have never seen before I would gladly sit up the whole night. There is no need for that. I can wake you at the right time. The next day at early dawn, Michelle awoke me. I am ready, Michelle, said I, coming to the window. Wait! Wait! Let me open it very gently. If Prichard suspects that he is being watched, he won't stir. You have no idea how deceitful he is. Michelle opened the window with every possible precaution. From where I stood, I could distinctly see the poultry yard and Prichard lying in his couch, his head innocently resting upon his two-four paws. At the slight noise which Michelle made in opening the window, Prichard picked up his ears and half opened his yellow eye, but as the sound was not repeated, he did not move. Ten minutes afterwards, we heard a newly wakened hens begin to cluck. Prichard immediately opened both eyes. Stretched himself and stood upright upon his three feet. He then cast a glance all around him, and seeing that all was quiet, disappeared into a shed, and the next moment we saw him coming out of a sort of little window on the other side. From this window, Prichard easily got upon the sloping roof which overhung one side of the poultry yard. He had now only to jump down about six feet, and having got onto the enclosure, he lay down flat in front of the hen house, giving a little friendly bark. A hen looked out at Prichard's call, and instead of seeming frightened, she went to him at once and received his compliments with apparent complacency. Nor did she seem at all embarrassed, but proceeded to lay her egg, and that within such easy reach of Prichard that we had not time to see the egg, it was swallowed the same instant. She then retired cackling triumphantly, and her place was taken by another hen. Well now, sir, said Michelle. When Prichard had swallowed his fourth egg, you see it is no wonder that Prichard has such a clear voice. You know great singers always eat raw eggs the first thing in the morning. I know that, Michelle, but what I don't know is how Prichard proposes to get out of the poultry yard. Just wait and see what the scoundrel will do. Prichard, having finished his breakfast or being a little alarmed at some noise in the house, stood up on his hind leg, and slipping one of his four paws through the bars of the gate, he lifted the latch and went out. And when one thinks, said Michelle, that if anybody asked him why the yard door was left open, he would say it was because Pierre had forgotten to shut it last night. You think he would have the wickedness to say that, Michelle? Perhaps not today, nor yet tomorrow, because he has not come to his full growth, but some day, mind you, I should not be surprised to hear him speak. Before going out to school that day, I thought it only right to give M. Charpalon an account of Prichard's proceedings. He regarded him, therefore with mingled feelings in which admiration was more prominent than sympathy, and it was agreed that on our return the dog should be shut up in a stable, and that the stable door should be bolted and padlocked. Prichard, unsuspicious of our designs, ran on in front with a proud step and with his tail in the air. You know, said Charpalon, that neither men nor dogs are allowed to go into the vineyards. I ought to as magistrate to set an example, and Gagney is still more as he is the mayor, so mind you keep in Prichard. All right, said I, I will keep him in. But Michelle, approaching, suggested that I should send Prichard home with him. It would be safer, he said. We are quite near the house, and I have a notion that he might get us into some scrape by hunting in the vineyards. Don't be afraid, Michelle. I have thought of a plan to prevent him. Michelle touched his hat. I know you are clever, sir. Very clever. But don't think you are as clever as that. Wait till you see. Indeed, sir, you will have to be quick, for there is Prichard hunting already. We were just in time to see Prichard disappear into a vineyard, and a moment afterwards he raised a cavity of partridges. Call in your dog, cried Gagney. I called Prichard, who, however, turned a deaf ear. Catch him, I said to Michelle. Michelle went and returned a few minutes later with Prichard in a leash. In the meantime I had found a long stake, which I had hung crosswise round his neck, and let him go loose with his ornament. Prichard understood that he could no longer go through the vineyards, but the stake did not prevent his hunting, and he only went a good deal further off on the open ground. From this moment there was only one shot all along the line. Hold in your dog, confound him. Keep in your Prichard, can't you? He's sending all the birds out of shot. Look here. Would you mind my putting a few pellets into your brood of a dog? How can anybody shoot if he won't keep in? Michelle, said I, catch Prichard again. I told you so, sir. Luckily we are not far from the house. I can still take him back. Not at all. I have a second idea. Catch Prichard. After all, said Michelle, this is nearly as good fun as if we were shooting. And by and by he came back. Dragging Prichard by his stake, Prichard had a partridge in his mouth. Look at him. The thief, said Michelle. He has carried off M. Gagney's partridge. I see him looking for it. Put the partridge in your game bag, Michelle. We will give him a surprise. Michelle hesitated. But, said he, think of the opinion this rascal will have of you. What, Michelle? Do you think Prichard has a bad opinion of me? Oh, sir. A shocking opinion. But what makes you think so? Why, sir? Do you not think that Prichard knows in his soul and conscience that he brings you a bird that another gentleman has shot? He is committing a theft? I think he has an idea of it, certainly, Michelle. Well then, sir. If he knows he is a thief, he must take you for a receiver of stolen goods. Look at the articles of code. It is said there that receivers are equally guilty with thieves and should be similarly punished. Michelle, you opened my eyes to a whole vista of terrors, but we are going to try to cure Prichard of hunting. When he is cured of hunting, he will be cured of stealing. Never, sir. You will never cure Prichard of his vices. Still I pursued my plan, which was to put Prichard's foreleg through his collar. By this means his right forefoot being fastened to his neck and his left hind foot being cut off. He had only two to run with, the left forefoot and the right hind foot. Well, indeed, said Michelle, if he can hunt now, the devil is in it. He loosed Prichard, who stood for a moment as if astonished. But once he had balanced himself, he began to walk. Then to trot, then, as he found his balance better, he succeeded in running quicker on his two hind legs than many dogs would have done on four. Where are we now, sir? said Michelle. It's at beast of a stake that balances him. I replied, all through the disappointed. We ought to teach him to dance upon the tightrope. He would make our fortunes as an acrobat. You are joking again, sir, but listen. Do you hear that? The most terrible implications against Prichard were resounding on all sides. The implications were followed by a shot, then by a howl of pain. That is Prichard's voice, said Michelle. Well, it is no more than he deserves. Prichard peer-peered the next moment with a hair in his mouth. Michelle, you said that was Prichard that howl. I would swear to it, sir, but how could he howl with a hair in his mouth? Michelle scratched his head. It was he all the same, he said, and he went to look at Prichard. Oh, sir, he said. I was right. The gentleman he took the hair from has shot him. His hind leg is all over-blood. Look, there is M. Charpalon running after his hair. You know that I have just put some pellets into your Prichard. Charpalon called out as soon as he saw me. You did quite right. He carried off my hair. There, you see, said Michelle, it is impossible to cure him. But when he carried away your hair, he must have had it in his mouth. Of course, where else would he have it? But how could he howl with a hair in his mouth? He put it down to howl. Then he took it up again and made off. There's the seat for you, gentlemen, exclaimed Michelle. Prichard succeeded in bringing the hair to me. But when he reached me, he had to lie down. I say, said Charpalon, I hope I haven't hurt him more than I intended. It was a long shot. And forgetting his hair, Charpalon knelt down to examine Prichard's wound. It was a serious one. Prichard had received five or six pellets about the region of his tail and was bleeding profusely. Oh, poor beast! cried Charpalon. I wouldn't have fired that shot for all the hairs even creation if I had known. Bah! said Michelle. He won't die of it. And, in fact, Prichard, after spending three weeks in the vet at Saint Germain's, returned to Monte Cristo, perfectly cured, and with his tail in the air once more. Chapter 9 Soon after the disastrous event which I have just related, the revolution of 1848 occurred in France, in which King Louis Philippe was dethroned and a republic established. You will ask what the change of government had to do with my beasts. Well, although happily, they do not trouble their heads about politics, the revolution did affect them a good deal. For the French public, being excited by these occurrences, would not buy my books, preferring to read the guillotine, the red republic, and such like the corrupt periodicals, so that I became, for the time, a very much poorer man. I was obliged greatly to reduce my establishment. I sold my three horses and my two carriages for a quarter of their value, and I presented the last of Lelaide Manoir's potish and mademoiselle de Gossens to the Jardin de Plants in Paris. I had to move into a smaller house, but my monkeys were lodged in a palace. This is a sort of thing that sometimes happens after a revolution. Misyouf also profited by it, for he regained his liberty on the departure of the monkeys. As to Diogenes, the vulture, I gave him to my worthy neighbor, Colliné, who keeps the restaurant Henry IV, and makes such good cutlets at El Abilenes. There was no fear of Diogenes dying of hunger under his new master's care. On the contrary, he improved greatly in health and beauty, and, doubtless as a token of gratitude to Colliné, he laid an egg for him every year, a thing he never dreamt of doing for me. Lastly, we requested Pritchard to cease to keep open house, and to discontinue his daily invitations to strange dogs to dine and sleep. I was obliged to give up all thoughts of shooting that year. It is true that Pritchard still remained to me, but then Pritchard, he must recollect, he had only three feet, he had been badly hurt when he was shot by Charpelin, and the revolution of February had occasioned the loss of one eye. It happened one day during that exciting period that Michel was so anxious to see what was going on that he forgot to give Pritchard his dinner. Pritchard, therefore, invited himself to dine with the vulture, with Diogenes being of a less sociable turn, and, not in a humor to be trifled with, dealt poor Pritchard such a blow with his beak and the pride from above in his mustard-colored eyes. Pritchard's courage was unbeatable. He might be compared to that brave Field Marshal of whom it was said that Mars had left nothing of him whole except his heart, but it was difficult, you see, to make much use of a dog with so many infirmities. If I had wished to sell him, I could not have found a purchaser, nor would he have been considered a handsome present had I desired to give him away. I had no choice but to make this old servant badly as he had sometimes served me, a pensioner, a companion, in fact, a friend. Some people told me that I might have tied a stone round his neck and flung him into the river, others that it was easy to replace him by buying a good retriever from Vatron. But, although I was not yet poor enough to drown Pritchard, neither was I rich enough to buy another dog. However, later in that very year, I made an unexpected success in literature and one of my plays brought me in a sufficient sum to take a shooting in the Department of Yon. I went to look at the shooting, taking Pritchard with me. In the meantime, my daughter wrote to tell me that she had bought an excellent retriever for five pounds, named Ketina, and that she was keeping him in the stable until my return. As soon as I arrived, my first care was to make Ketina's acquaintance. He was a rough, vigorous dog of three or four years old, thoughtless, violent, and quarrelsome. He jumped upon me till he nearly knocked me down, upset my daughter's work table, and dashed about the room to the great danger of my china vases and ornaments. I therefore called Michelle and informed him that the superficial acquaintance which I had made with Ketina would suffice for the time, and that I would defer the pleasure of his further intimacy until the shooting season began at Uksur. Poor Michelle! As soon as he saw Ketina, he had been seized with the presentiment of evil. Sir, he said, that dog will bring some misfortune upon us. I do not know yet what, but something will happen. I know it will. In the meantime, Michelle, I said, you had better take Ketina back to the stable. But Ketina had already left the room of his own accord and rushed downstairs to the dining room where I had left Prichard. Now Prichard never could endure Ketina from the first moment he saw him. The two dogs instantly flew at one another with so much fury that Michelle was obliged to call me to his assistance before you could separate them. Ketina was once more shut up in the stable and Prichard conducted to his kennel in the stable yard, which, in the absence of the carriages and horses, was now a poultry yard, inhabited by my eleven hens and my cock Caesar. Prichard's friendship with the hens continued to be strong as ever, and the household suffered from a scarcity of eggs and consequence. That evening, while my daughter and I were walking in the garden, Michelle came to meet us, twisting his straw hat between his fingers, a sure sign that he had something important to say. Well, what is it, Michelle? I asked. It came into my mind, sir, he answered. While I was taking Prichard to his kennel, that we never had any eggs because Prichard eats them, and he eats them because he is in direct communication with the hens. It is evident, Michelle, that if Prichard never went into the poultry yard, he would not eat the eggs. Then, do you not think, sir, continuing, Michelle, that if we shut up Prichard in the stable and put Catena into the poultry yard, it would be better? Catena is an animal without education, so far as I know, but he is not such a thief as Prichard. Do you know what will happen if you do that, Michelle? I said, Catena will not eat the eggs, perhaps, but he will eat the hens. If a misfortune like that were to occur, I know a method of curing him of eating hens. Well, but in the meantime, the hens would be eaten. Scarcely had I uttered these words when a frightful noise was heard in the stable yard, as loud as that of a pack of hounds and folk cry, but mingled with howls of rage and pain which indicated a deadly combat. Michelle, I cried, do you hear that? Oh, yes, I hear it, he answered, but those must be the neighbors' dogs fighting. Michelle, those are Catena and Prichard killing each other. Impossible, sir, I have separated them. Well, then, they have met again. It is true, said Michelle, that scoundrel Prichard can open the stable door as well as anyone. Then you see, Prichard is a dog of courage. He'll have opened the stable door for Catena on purpose to fight him. Be quick, Michelle. I am really afraid one of them will be killed. Michelle darted into the passage which led to the stable, and no sooner had he disappeared than I knew from the lamentations which I had heard that some misfortune had happened. In a minute or two, Michelle reappeared sobbing bitterly and carrying Prichard in his arms. Look, sir, just look, he said. This is the last we will see of Prichard. Look what your fine sporting dog has done to him. Catena indeed. It is Catelena, he should be called. I ran up to Prichard, full of concern. I had a great love for him, though he had often made me angry. He was a dog of much originality, and the unexpected things he did were only a proof of genius. What do you think is the matter? I asked Michelle. The matter? The matter is that he is dead. Oh no, surely not. Anyhow, he'll never be good for anything again, and he laid him on the ground at my feet. Prichard, my poor Prichard, I cried at the sound of my voice. Prichard opened his yellow eye and looked sorrowfully at me, then stretched out his four legs, gave one sigh, and died. Catena had bitten his throat quite through, so that his death was almost immediate. Well, Michelle, said I, it is not a good servant. It is a good friend that we have lost. You must wash him carefully. You shall have a towel to wrap him in. You shall dig his grave in this garden, and we will have a tombstone made for him on which shall be engraved this epitaph. Like cockering red sow of courage undaunted, Prichard, to thee, Mars honor has granted, on each field of fight of a limb, he bereft thee, till not but thy gallant heart scatheless was left thee. As my habit was, I sought consolation for my grief in literary labors. Michelle endeavored to assuage his with the help of two bottles of red wine, with which, mingled with his tears, he watered the grave of the departed. I know this because when I came out early next morning to see if my wishes with regard to Prichard's burial had been carried out, I found Michelle stretched upon the ground, still in tears, and the two bottles empty by his side. End of section 17. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Piramas was a large brown dog, born of a good family, who had been given when a mere pup to Alexandre Dumas, the great French novelist, when quite a young man. Now the keeper to whom Piramas first belonged had also a tiny little fox cub without any relations about the place. So both fox cub and dog pup were handed over to the same mother, who brought them up side by side until they were able to do for themselves. So when the keeper made young Dumas a present of Piramas, he thought he had better bestow katoosh on him as well. Of course, it is hardly necessary to say that these fine names were not invented by the keeper, who had never heard of either Piramas or katoosh, but were given to his pets by Dumas, after he had spent a little time in observing their characters. Certainly it was a very curious study. Here were two animals, who had never been apart since they were born and were now living together in two kennels side by side in the courtyard of the house. And yet after the first three or four months, when they were mere babies, every day showed some difference and soon they ceased to be friends at all and became open enemies. The earliest fight known to have taken place between them happened in this way. One day, some bones were thrown by accident within the bounds of katoosh's territory and though if they belonged to anybody, it was clearly katoosh. Piramas resolved, most unfairly, to get hold of them. The first time Piramas tried secretly to commit this act of piracy, katoosh growled. The second time, he showed his teeth. The third time, he bit. It must be owned that katoosh had shown some excuse for his violent behavior, because he always remained chained up, whereas Piramas was allowed certain hours of liberty. And it was during one of these that he made up his mind to steal the bones from katoosh, whose chain he thought would prevent any attempt at reprisals. Indeed, he even tried to make out to his conscience that probably the bones were not dainty enough for katoosh, who loved delicate food, whereas anything was good enough for him, Piramas. However, whether he wanted to eat the bones or not, katoosh had no intention of letting them be stolen from him. And having managed to drive off piramas on the first occasion, he determined to get safely hold of the bones before his enemy was unchained again. Now the chains of each were the same length. Forfeit, and in addition to that, piramas had a bigger head and longer nose than katoosh, who was much smaller altogether. So it follows that when they were both chained up, piramas could stretch farther towards any object that lay at an equal distance between their kennels. Piramas knew this, and so he counted on always getting the better of katoosh. But katoosh had not been born a fox for nothing. He watched with skunful expression the great piramas, straining at his chain with his eyes nearly jumping out of his head with greed and rage. Really, said katoosh to himself, if he goes on like that much longer, I shall have a mad dog for a neighbor before the day is out. Let me see if I can't manage better. But as we know, being a much smaller animal than piramas, his nose did not come nearly so close to the bones. And after one or two efforts to reaching the tempting morsel, which was lying about six feet from each kennel, he gave it up and retired to his warm bed, hoping that he might somehow hit upon some idea which would enable him to reach the bones of contention. All at once he jumped up, for after hard thought he had got what he wanted. He trotted merrily to the length of his chain, and now it was piramas' turn to look on and to think with satisfaction. Well, if I can't get them, you can't either, which is a comfort. But gradually his green of delight changed into a savage snarl as katoosh turned himself round when he got to the end of his chain and stretching out his paw hooked the bone which he gradually drew within reach. And before piramas had recovered from his astonishment, katoosh had got possession of all the bones and was cracking them with enjoyment inside his kennel. It may seem very unjust that katoosh was always kept chained up, but piramas was allowed to roam about freely. But the fact that piramas only ate or stole when he was really hungry, while katoosh was by nature the murderer of everything he came across. One day he broke his chain and ran off to the foley yard of Monsiu Mo Privet, who lived next door. In less than ten minutes he had strangled seventeen hens and two cocks, nineteen copses in all. It was impossible to find any extenuating circumstances in his favor. He was condemned to death and promptly executed. Henceforth piramas reigned alone and it is sad to think that he seemed to enjoy it and even that his appetite grew bigger. It is bad enough for any dog to have an appetite like piramas when he was at home. But when he was out shooting and should have been doing his duty as a retriever, this fault became a positive vice. Whatever might be the first bird shot by his master, whether it happened to be a patridge of fissant, quail or snipe, down it would go into piramas' wide throat. It was seldom indeed that his master arrived in time to see even the last feathers. A smart blow from a whip kept him in order all the rest of the day and it was very rarely that he seemed twice in this way while on the same expedition. But unluckily, before the day's shooting came round, he had entirely forgotten all about his previous cunning and justice had to be done again. On two separate occasions, however, piramas' greediness brought his own punishment. One day, his master was shooting with a friend in a place where a small wood had been cut down early in the year and after the low shrubs had been sown in pieces and bound in bundles, the grass was left to grow into hay and this hay was now in process of cutting. The shooting party reached the spot just at the time that the rippers were having their dinner and taking their midday rest. One of the rippers had laid his skither against a little stalk of wood about three feet high. At this moment, a snipe got up and Mosyudumas fired and killed it. It fell on the other side of the stalk of wood against which the skither was leaning. As it was the first bird he had killed that day, he knew, of course, that it would become the prey of piramas so he did not hurry himself to go after it but watched with amusement, piramas staring along even jumping over the stalk in his haste. But when, after giving the dog the usual time to swallow his fat morsel, Mosyudumas did not see piramas coming back to him as usual in leaps and bounds. He began to wonder what could have happened and made hastily for the stalk of wood behind which he had disappeared. There he found the unlucky piramas lying on the ground with the point of the skither right through his neck. The blood was pouring from the wound and he lay motionless with the snipe dead on the ground about six inches from his nose. The two men raised him up as gently as possible and carried him to the river and here they bathed the wound with water. They then folded a pocket handkerchief into a band and tied it tightly around his neck to staunch the blood and when this was done and they were wondering how to get him home a peasant fortunately passed driving a donkey with two panniers and he was laid in one of the panniers and taken to the nearest village where he was put safely into a carriage. For eight days piramas lay between life and death. For a whole month his head hung on one side and it was only after six weeks which seems like six years to a dog that he was able to run about as usual and appeared to have forgotten his accident. Only whenever he saw a skither he made a long round to avoid coming in contact with it. Sometime afterwards he returned to the house with his body as full of holes as a sieve. On this occasion he was taking a walk through the forest and seeing a goat feeding jumped at its throat. The goat screamed loudly and the keeper who was smoking at a little distance of run to his help but before he could come up the goat was half dead. On hearing the steps of the keeper and on listening to his strong language piramas understood very well that this stout man dressed in blue would have something very serious to say to him so he stretched his legs to their fullest extent and started off like an arrow from a bow. But as man Friday long ago remarked my little ball of lead can run faster than thou. The keeper's little ball of lead run faster than piramas and that is how he came home with all the holes in his body. There is no denying that piramas was a very bad dog and as his master was fond of him it is impossible to believe that he can always have been hungry as for instance when he jumped up in a butcher's shop to steal a piece of meat and got the hook on which it was hung through his own jaws so that someone had to come and unhook him. But hungry or not Monsue Dumas had no time to be perpetually getting him out of scripts and when a few months later an Englishman who wanted a sporting dog took a fancy to piramas his master was not altogether sorry to say goodbye. End of section 18 Recorded by Eddie Chigosi Section 19 of the Animal Storybook This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Campbell Shelp The Animal Storybook Edited by Andrew Ling The Story of a Weasel by William Bingley Weasels are so sharpened, clever and untiring that their activity has been made into a proverb and like many other sharpened, clever creatures they are very mischievous and fond of killing rabbits and chickens and even of sucking their eggs which they do so carefully that they hardly ever break one. A French lady called Mademoiselle de Leicester a friend of the great naturalist Monsue de Bouffon once found a weasel when he was very young indeed and as she was fond of pets she thought she would bring him up. Now a weasel is a little creature and very pretty. It has short legs and a long tail and its skin is reddish-brown above and white below. Its eyes are black and its ears are small and its body is about seven inches in length but this weasel was much smaller than that when it went to live with Mademoiselle de Leicester. Of course it had to be taught. All young things have and this weasel knew nothing. The good lady first began with pouring some milk into the hollow of her hand and letting it drink from it. Very soon, being a weasel of polite instincts it would not take milk in any other way. After its dinner when a little fresh meat was added to the milk it would run to a soft quilt that was spread in its mistress' bedroom and having soon discovered that it could get inside the quilt at a place where the stitches had given way it proceeded to tuck itself up comfortably for an hour or two. This was all very well in the day but Mademoiselle de Leicester did not feel at all safe in leaving such a mischievous creature loose during the night so whenever she went to bed she shut the weasel up in a little cage that stood close by. If she happened to wake up early she would unfasten the cage and then the weasel would come into her bed and nestling up to her go to sleep again. If she was already dressed when he was let out he would jump all about her and would never once miss a lighting on her hands even when they were held out three feet from him. All his ways were pretty and gentle he would sit on his mistress' shoulder and give little softpats to her chin or would run over a whole room full of people at the mere sound of her voice. He was very fond of the sun, too and would tumble about and murmur with delight whenever it shone on him. The little weasel was rather a thirsty animal but he would not drink much at a time and when he had once tasted milk could not be persuaded to touch rainwater. Baths were quite new to him, too and he could not make up his mind to them even in the heat from which he suffered a good deal. His nearest approach to bathing was a wet cloth wrapped around him and this evidently gave him great pleasure. Cats and dogs about the place condescended to make friends with him and they never quarreled nor hurt each other. Indeed, in many of their instincts and ways weasels are not very unlike cats and one quality they have in common is their curiosity. Nothing was dull or uninteresting to this little weasel. It was impossible to open a drawer or take out a paper without his little sharp nose being thrust round the corner and he would even jump on his mistress' hands the better to read her letters. He was also very fond of attracting attention and in the midst of his play would always stop to see if anyone was watching. If he found that no one was troubling about him he would at once leave off and curling himself up go off into his sleep so sound that he might be taken up by the head and swung backwards and forwards quite a long time before he would wake up and be himself again. Some say Lockheil killed the last wolf in Scotland. Some say a gamekeeper was the hero. The wolf very much resembles the dog in appearance except that his eyes are set in obliquely and nearer his nose. His coat is commonly of a tawny grey colour that's sometimes black or white and he varies in size according to his character and he is very fond of it. He is very fond of it. And he varies in size according to the climate. Some wolves only measure two and a half feet in length not counting the tail. Others are much larger. They have remarkably keen sight, hearing and sense of smell and such a stealthy gait that their way of slinking along has passed into a proverb in countries where wolves are common. They live in rocky caverns in the forest sleep by day like other beasts of prey and go out at night to forage for food. They eat small birds, reptiles, the smaller animals such as rats and mice, some fruits, grapes among others and rotten apples. They do not disdain even dead bodies nor garbage of any sort. But in times of famine or prolonged snow when all these provisions fail then and they feel the pinch of hunger then woe betide the flocks of sheep or the human beings they may encounter. In fourteen fifty wolves actually came into Paris and attacked the citizens. Even so lately as the long and severe winter of eighteen ninety-four and five the wolves came into the plains of Piedimon in the lower Alps, Maritimes in such numbers that the soldiery had to be called out to destroy them. In such times a wolf in broad daylight will steal up to a flock of sheep peacefully feeding, seize on a fine fat one and make away with it unseen and unsuspected even by the watchful sheep-dog. Should a first attempt prove successful he will return again and again till finding he can no longer rob that flock unmolested he will look out for another one still unsuspicious. If he once gets inside a sheepfold at night he massacres and mangles right and left when he is slain to his heart's content he goes off with a victim and devours it then comes back for a second a third and a fourth carcass which he carries away to hide under a heap of branches or dead leaves when dawn breaks he returns gorged with food to his lair leaving the ground strewn with the bodies of the slain. The wolf even contrives to get the better of his natural enemy, the dog using strategic and cleverness in the place of strength. If he spies a gawky long-legged puppy swaggering about his own farmyard he will come closer and hentice him out to play by means of every sort of caper and gamble. When the young simpleton has been induced to come out beyond the farmyard the wolf, throwing off his disguise of amiable playfulness falls upon the dog and carries him away to make a meal of. In the case of a dog stronger and more capable of making resistance the strategic requires two wolves one appears to the dog after a wolf and then disappears into an ambush where the other lies hidden. The dog following its natural instinct pursues the wolf into the ambush where the two conspirators soon make an end of it. So numerous have wolves always been in the rural districts of France that from the earliest times there has been an institution called the Loutilly for their extermination. Since the French Revolution this has been very much modified of so much per head for every wolf killed. Under ordinary circumstances the wolf will not only not attack man but will flee from him for he is as cowardly as he is crafty. But if driven by hunger he will pursue or rather he will follow a solitary traveler for miles dodging his footsteps and always keeping near sometimes on one side sometimes on the other the last unworn out by fatigue and fright is compelled to halt. Then the wolf who has been waiting for this opportunity springs on him and devours him. Audubon in his quadrupeds of America tells a story of two young negroes who lived on a plantation on the banks of the Ohio in the state of Kentucky about the year 1820. They each had a sweetheart whom they used to go to visit every evening These negroes lived on another plantation about four miles away but a short cut led across a large cane break when winter set in with its long dark nights no ray of light illuminated this dismal swamp but the negroes continued their nightly expeditions nonwithstanding arming themselves by way of precaution with their axes. One dark night they set off over a thin crust of snow the reflection from which afforded all the light they had to guide them on their way hardly a star appeared through the dense masses of cloud that nearly covered the sky and menenced more snow about halfway to their destination the negroes' blood froze at the sound of a long and fearful howl that rent the air they knew it could only come from a pack of hungry and perhaps desperate wolves they paused to listen and only a dismal silence succeeded in the impenetrable darkness nothing was visible a few feet beyond them grasping their axes they went on their way though with quaking hearts suddenly in single file out of the darkness sprang several wolves who seized on the first man inflicting terrible wounds with their fangs on his legs and arms others as ravenous left on his companion and dragged him to the ground both negroes fought manfully but soon one had ceased to move and the other despairing of aiding his companion threw down his axe and sprang on to the branch of a tree where he found safety and shelter for the rest of that miserable night when day broke only the bones of his friend lay scattered on the blood-stained trampled snow three dead wolves lay near but the rest of the pack had betaken themselves to their lair to sleep away the effects of their night's gorge a sledge journey through the plains of Siberia in winter is a perilous undertaking if a pack of hungry wolves gets on the track of a sledge the travelers know as soon as they hear the horrid howls and they see the gray forms stealing swiftly across the snow that their chances of escape are small if the sledge stops one instant men and horses are lost the only safety is in flight at utmost speed it is indeed a race for life the horses mad with terror seem to have wings the wolves no less swift pursue them their cruel eyes gleaming with the lust for blood from time to time a shot is fired and a wolf falls dead in the snow bolder than the others he has tried to climb onto the sledge and has met his reward this incident gives a momentary respite to the pursuit for the murderous pack will pause to tear in pieces and devour their dead comrade then further inflamed with the taste of blood they will continue the headlong pursuit with redoubled vigor should the travelers be able to reach a village or friendly farmhouse before the horses are completely exhausted the wolves frightened by the lights will slink away into the forest balked this time of their prey on the other hand should no refuge be near the wolves will keep up with the horses till the poor beasts stumble and fall from fatigue when the whole pack will instantly spring upon men and horses and in a few moments the bloodstained snow alone tells the tale there have been instances, but fortunately few of wolves with a perfect craving for human flesh such was the notorious Bette du Gévoudin that from the year 1764 and onwards ravaged the district of that name in Auvergne to the south of the center of France this wolf was of enormous size measuring six feet from the point of its nose to the tip of its tail it devoured 83 persons principally women and children and seriously wounded 25 or 30 others it was attacked from first to last by between two and three hundred thousand hunters probably not all at once with half a dozen wolves each equal to two hundred thousand men a country could afford to do without an army but the wolf of Gévoudin was no common wolf he never married the treasure fortunately for the human race the whole of France was in a state of alarm on its account the peasants dared no longer to go to their work in the fields alone and unarmed every day brought tidings of some fresh trouble in the morning he would spread terror and confusion in some village in the plains and in the evening he would carry off some hapless victim from some mountain hamlet fifteen or twenty leagues away five little shepherd boys feeding their flocks on the mountainside were attacked suddenly by the ferocious beast who made off with the youngest of them the others armed only with sticks pursued the wolf and attacked it so valiantly that they compelled it to drop its prey and slink off into the wood a poor woman was sitting at her cottage door with her three children when the wolf came down on them and attempted to carry off each of the children in turn the mother fought so courageously in defense of her little ones that she succeeded in putting the wolf to flight but in doing so was terribly bitten herself and the youngest child died of his wounds some twenty or thirty parishes joined forces to attack the beast led by the most experienced huntsmen and the chief Louvetiel of the kingdom on one occasion twenty thousand hunters surrounded the forest, Prianiers where it lay concealed but on this as well as every other occasion the wolf escaped in the most surprising one might say miraculous manner disappearing as if he had been turned into smoke some hunters declared that their bullets had rebounded off him flattened and harmless others alleged when he had been shot like the great Dundee with a silver bullet a well-known charm against sorcery at such close quarters that it appeared to be impossible he should not be mortally wounded and there too some fresh horror would announce the creature was still uninjured the very dogs refused at length to go after him and fled howling in the opposite direction the belief became general that it was no ordinary wolf of flesh and blood but the fiend himself in beast shape prayers were put up in the churches processions took place and the host remained exhibited as in times of plague and public calamity the state offered a reward of two thousand francs to whoever should slay the monster the syndix of two neighboring towns added five hundred francs making a total of one hundred English money a large sum in those days the uncountess de mercurie an orphan and chateleon of one of the finest estates in the district offered her hand and fortune in marriage to whoever would rid the country of the scourge this inspired the uncount le cons de valinas who though no sportsman by nature was so deeply in love with the countess that he determined to gain the reward or perish in the attempt assisted by a small band of well-trained hunters and by two formidable dogs a bloodhound and a mastiff he began a systematic attack on the wolf after many fruitless attempts they succeeded one day in driving the creature into an abandoned quarry of vast size the sides of which were twenty or thirty feet high and quite precipitous and the only entrance and narrow cart track blasted out of the rock the uncount determined to do or die alone sternly refused to allow his men to accompany him into the quarry and left them posted up the entrance with orders only to fire on the beast should it attempt to force its way out taking only the dogs with him and having carefully seen to the state of his weapons he went bravely to the encounter the narrow defile was so completely hemmed in on every side that to the banquished there was no escape nor alternative but death here and there on patches of half-melted snow were footprints evidently recent of the huge beast but the creature remained invisible and for nearly ten minutes the count had wandered among the rocks and bushes before the dogs began to give sign of the enemy's presence about a hundred yards from where he stood was a frozen pool on the edge of which grew a clump of bullrushes among their dry and yellow stalks Leonce suddenly caught a glimpse of a pair of fiery eyes nothing more but it was enough to let him know that the longed-for moment at length had arrived Leonce advanced cautiously his gun cocked and ready to fire and the dogs close at his heels growling with rage and fear still the wolf did not stir and Leonce, determining to try other tactics stopped raised his gun to his shoulder and aimed between the gleaming eyes nothing more being visible before he could fire the beast he dashed from among the crackling reeds and sprang straight at him Leonce nothing daunted waited till it was within ten pieces and then fired with a howl of anguish the wolf fell as if dead before Leonce had time to utter a shout of joy it was on its feet again streaming with blood and terrible in its rage it fell on the young man he attempted to defend himself with his bayonet which though of tempered steel was broken as if it had been glass his gun too was bent and he himself was hurled to the ground but for his feeful dogs it would soon have been all over with him they flew at the wolf's throat who quickly made an end to the bloodhound one crunch broke his back while one stroke of the ruthless paw disemboweled him caster the mastiff had however the wolf by the throat and a fearful struggle ensued over the prostrate body of Leonce they bit, they tore, they worried they rolled over and over each other the wolf, in spite of its wounds always having the advantage have stunned by the fall suffocated by the weight of the combatants and blinded by the dust and snow they scattered in the fray Leonce had just sufficient strength to make one last effort in self-defense drawing his hunting-knife he plunged it to the hilt in the shaggy mass above him from a distance he seemed to hear shouts of courage Monsieurs courage caster we are coming then conscious only of an overwhelming weight above him and of iron claws tearing at his chest he fainted away when he came to himself he was lying on the ground surrounded by his men starting up he exclaimed the beast where is the beast dead Monsieurs stone dead answered the headkeeper showing him the horrid creature all torn and bloody stretched out on the snow beside the dead bloodhound caster a little way off lay panting and bruised licking his wound the count's knife was firmly embedded in the beast ribs it had gone straight to the heart and death had been instantaneous a procession was formed to carry the carcass of the wolf in triumph to the castle of the countess the news had flown in advance and she was waiting on the steps to welcome the conquering hero it was not long before the countess and the gallant champion were married and as the wolf left no family the country was at peace are you not rather sorry for the poor wolf? End of section 20 recording by Rebecca Zimmerman section 21 of the Animal Storybook this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Tanya Kay The Animal Storybook edited by Andrew Lang Two Highland Dogs by Ms. Goodrich Freer Part 1 Ri and Sperag were two highland dogs who lived in a beautiful valley not far from the west coast of Scotland where high hills slope down to the shores of a blue loch and the people talk a strange language quite different from English from French or German or Latin which is called Gallic the name Ri means a king and Sperag means a sparrow hawk but they are words no one except the Highlander can pronounce properly however the dogs had a great many friends who could not talk Gallic and when English speaking people called them Ri and Spera they would always answer Ri was a great tawny deer hound tall and slender very stately as a king should be and as gentle as he was strong he had a rough coat and soft brown eyes set rather near together and very bright and watchful his chief business in life was to watch the faces of his friends and to obey their wishes quickly to take his long limbs away from the drawing room hearth rug when the butler came in to put on the coals not to get in the way more than so big a dog could help and not to get too much excited when anything in a conversation suggested the likelihood of a walk but his father and all his ancestors had led very different lives they had been trained to go out on the mountains with men who hunted the wild deer and to help them in the chase for the deer hounds run with long bounds and are as fleet as the stag himself then when the beautiful preacher had been killed it was their duty to guard the body and to see that Karrion froze and eagles and other wild birds should not molest it but Ri's master was a bishop who though he lived quite near to a great deer forest and often took his dogs over the hills to where the deer lived never killed anything but loved to see all his fellow preachers happy among the things they liked best Spirag was a very little dog of the kind that is called a sky terrier though the island of sky is one of the few places in which a long haired terrier is very rare he was quite small what his highland friends called a wee bit doggy he was very full of life and courage wonderfully plucky for his size like the fierce little bird whose name he bore like a good many little people he lacked the dignity and repose of his big companion and though very good tempered among his friends was quite ready to bite if beaten and did not take a scolding with half the gentleness and humility with which Ri would submit to punishment perhaps because he needed it oftener for he was so busy and active that he sometimes got into scrapes he was only three years old at the time of this story and Ri was seven so it was perhaps natural that Ri should be the wiser of the two they lived in a beautiful house quite near the loch and they had a large garden to play in and they could go in and out of the house and do just as they liked so long as they came when they were cold and did as they were bid and did not climb on the sofa cushions when their feet were muddy there were very few houses on their side the water and as their friends went about in boats as often as other people go out in carriages the dogs were used to the water and could swim as easily as walk and what is more knew how to sit still in the boat so that they were allowed to go anywhere with their friends because they gave no trouble they had a very happy life for there was always something going on which is what dogs like and plenty of people to go walks with their young masters sometimes went out with guns and a dog, a country dog loves a gun better than anything in the world because he knows it means business in which he can help sometimes their mistress took them for a walk and then they knew that they must be on their best behavior and not wander too far from the road and have to be whistled back and not fight with the collies at the cottage doors nor chase cats nor be tiresome in any way they generally kept close beside her walking very slowly so as to accommodate his big strides to the progress of a poor human thing with only two legs and Spirug trotting along with tiny little footsteps that seemed to make a great fuss and to be in a great hurry about nothing at all there was nothing however so delightful as going for walks with their own master the bishop one thing they generally knew he really meant to do something worthwhile partying about with a gun or escorting a lady as pleasant enough but it generally means coming home to lunch or tea and the real joy of a dog's walk is to feel that you are getting farther and farther away from home and that there are miles of heather and pinewood behind you and yet you are still going on and on with chances of more hairs and more squirrels to run after sometimes the bishop would stop at a shepherd's hut or a lonely cottage under the lee of a hill and sometimes he would sit down to examine a flower he had gathered in the wood but they forgave him very good temperately and could always find something to interest them while they waited he generally sat down beside his master and stretched out his great limbs on the heather for he liked to think he was taking care of somebody or something Spirug would lie down for a minute panting with his little red tongue hanging out and his hairy little paws all wet and muddy but he never rested for long but would dart off pretending to have found a rat or a squirrel even if none really existed it was in December 1887 the weather was raw and cold there was ice floating about on the loch and the seagulls used to come up to the garden terrace to be fed the young masters were away and mistress could only take walks along the road there was nothing to tempt her to a mountain scramble or a saunter in the woods the bishop was very busy and day after day the dogs would start up from the rug at the sound of the opening of his study door upstairs and after a minute's anxious listening with ears cocked and heads erect they would lie down again with a sigh of disappointment for there was no sound of approach to the hot stand nor a whistled invitation for a walk finally came a sad day when the bishop went away and dog life threatened to become monotonous then one Saturday hope revived for a visitor came to the house an old friend whom they loved and trusted as a good dog always loves what is trustworthy he was a frequent visitor and had in fact left the house but three weeks before he was there for a holiday rest and had leisure to bestow on dogs and on long walks which they always shared he was very thoughtful for them not the sort of a man who would set off on a whole afternoon's rumble and say when half a mile on his way I wish I'd remembered re-inspirak you always remembered them and thought for them and when he fed them after dinner would always give big bits of biscuit to the big dog and little bits to the little dog and it is not everyone who has the sense for that every day and often twice a day he took them out down to the church or the pier or across the lake and up to the pass of Glencoe where stern grey hills and hovering eagles and the deep silent valley still seemed to whisper together of a sad true story that happened there and just such weather as this two hundred years ago these were very happy days for dogs for they did not mind the cold it was only an excuse for wilds, campers and racing and they were very grateful for their friend's return he had been ill but was able to enjoy his walks and though about sixty years of age he had all those qualities of youth which endeared a man to a dog or a child he was brave and unselfish and strong to love and to endure and they loved him without knowing why without knowing that he had lost his health from overwork in the service of the poor and suffering and among the outcasts so low as to be beyond the sympathy of any heart less loving than that of a dog or of a very good man Father Mokoniki he was always cold and though he had never had wife or children of his own many a fatherless child and many a lonely grown-up man or a woman felt that it was quite easy and natural to call him by a name so sacred on the Wednesday after he came he took Ri and Sperag for a glorious walk through the shrubberies and out through a gate onto the road at the foot of the hill behind a road that winds on and on for many miles the mountains rising steeply above the lake being cold and gray below the bank that slopes away from the road to the water in places covered with gores and low bushes and heather where an enterprising dog may hunt for rats and rabbits or rush headlong after a pee-wet or a moorfowl as it rises with a scream at his approach and flutters off high into the air and then descending to within a few feet of him skims low before him hopelessly far yet tantalizingly near the way was familiar to them by land or by water often had they sailed up the loch in the same direction farther and farther into the heart of the mountains the valley becoming more and more narrow the shores of the lake nearer and nearer to each other till had they gone far enough they would have reached the dogsfairy a spot where the water is so narrow that a dog may easily swim across Ri, strong swimmer that he was had often crossed the loch near his master's house where the very boats ply and needed no dogsfairy but few dogs made such powerful strokes in the water as he this day however they did not reach the dogsfairy the afternoon was closing in there was streaks of gold in a dull grey sky and it was the good father thought time to return never mind little man he said as Spira glooped reproachfully at him with wistful brown eyes gleaming through overhanging silvery locks we'll do it tomorrow only we must set off earlier this was good news and the little dog started home gaily running as little dogs will ten miles at least to every one of the road and tired enough when home was reached at last dinner was a welcome feast and Ri and Spira slept sound till it was time for evening service they always attended chapel night and morning and took their places at the foot of the steps halfway when both were present between mistress and her seed and master at the place of his sacred office tonight as usual they remained perfectly quiet and apparently indifferent to what was going on till at the words lighten our darkness bedtime came into immediate prospect and they started into expecting attitudes awaiting the final amen part two the next morning though cold was fine and fairly bright and the dogs watched eagerly for signs of the promised walk the service in chapel was rather long this morning for as it was advent the benedict city was red and though Ri and Spira noticed only that they had time for longer nap than usual there were some present who will never forget as the season comes round again each year the special significance of part of that song of praise oh ye frost and cold oh ye ice and snow oh ye nights and days oh ye light and darkness oh ye mountains and hills oh ye beasts and cattle oh ye holy and humble men of heart bless ye the Lord praise him and magnify him forever but at last the service was over and the dogs trotted out into the hole and followed mistress and their friend to the front door to see what the weather was like it was not a specially pleasant morning but it would do for a walk and after waiting a few minutes to have some sandwiches cut the only detention that could be endured with patience the three set out after about six miles they were on new ground but on they went the lake to the right of the road getting narrower on past the dogs fairy and still on till the Loch had become a river and could be crossed by a bridge Ri and Spira knew by a more certain method than looking at clocks that it was lunchtime half past one at least and they never thought of doubting that they would cross the bridge and turn homewards along the other side the Loch and so get in about tea time or for their friend was enterprising by a longer way also on the farther side either of which would involve a delightful long walk but with just that hint of a homeward turn which even to dogs is acceptable when breakfast has become a mere memory they accordingly followed the road onto the bridge but as father McConaughey did not overtake them Ri, ever watchful of his friends turned to look back and saw him speaking to a girl after which to their surprise he whistled them back and instead of continuing along the road as it turned off to the right kept straight on though there was now only a rough truck leading through a gate into the wood beyond when they had advanced a few paces into the wood he sat down under a tree and took out his packet of sandwiches Ri and Sparrog sitting close beside him had their share or perhaps more for their wistful brown eyes hungrily reminded him that they had multiplied the distance many times over and that an unexpected luncheon out of doors is a joy in a dog's day of a kind for which a man may well sacrifice a part of his minor pleasure starting off again was a fresh delight on they went farther and farther always climbing higher and getting deeper into the wood to the left the steep mountain side rose abruptly above them to the right below the path the river tore its way between steep banks down to its home in the lake now and then the trees parted and made way for a wild mountain torrent leaping from rock to rock down the hillside and rushing across their path to join the river below as they climbed farther these became more frequent their friend could stride across setting an occasional foot upon a stepping stone and Ri too could cross safely enough long limbed as he was though now and then he had to swim and the streams were so rapid that it needed all his strength to cross the current sometimes he helped Spirug for the brave little dog would always try to follow his big companion and sometimes with an anxious bark would give warning that help was needed and then the kind father would turn back to pick up the little dog and carry him till they were in safety it was very hard work they were always climbing and in many places the road was polished with a thin coating of ice but the dogs feared nothing and kept on bravely the path dwindled to a mere track and the climbing became steeper still the streams crossed their roads still oftener and the stones were slippery with ice the wood became thinner and as they had less shelter from the trees great flakes of half frozen snow were driven against their faces there was no thought now of hairs or stags Ri and Spirug had no energies left for anything but patient following poor little Spirug's long coat was very wet and as it dried a little it became hard and crisp with frost the long hair falling over his eyes was matted together and tangled with priors and his little feet were sore and heavy was mud it had caked in long tassels of silky hair even Ri was very weary and he followed soberly now instead of bounding along in front his ears and tail drooped and each time he crossed the ice cold water he seemed more and more dejected as they left the wood behind them the snow fell thick and blinding but just at first as they came out into the open it seemed not quite so dark as under the trees there was nothing to be seen but gray sky and gray moor even the river had been left behind and only blackened patches remained to show where in summer the ground was spread with a gay carpet of purple heather and sweet bog mortal they got deeper at each step into half frozen marsh there was no sound or sign of life the dogs felt hungry and weary as they ached with the cold and wet but they were following a friend and they trusted him wholly well they knew that each step was taking them farther from home and farther into the cold and darkness but dog wisdom never asserts itself and in trustful humility they followed still and the snow came down closer and closer around them and even the gray sky and the gray moor were blotted out and the darkness fell it was a disappointing homecoming for the bishop that Thursday evening there was no hearty handshake from waiting friend no rejoicing bay of big dog or extravagant excitement of little dog to welcome him the three had been out the whole day he was told and had not yet reappeared a long walk had been projected but they had been expected home long before this when dinner time came and they did not appear two servants had been sent out with lanterns to meet them as the road though not one to be missed was dark and some small accident might have happened the men were not back yet but doubtless the missing party would soon return the night was dark and stormy and father Mokoniki had been for some time somewhat invalided and as time passed the bishop became increasingly anxious at length he ordered a carriage and with the gardener set off towards Kinloch the head of the loch thinking that accident or weariness might have detained his friend and the carriage might be useful on the way they met the first messengers he was returning with the news that nothing could be heard at Kinloch of the missing three except that they had passed there between one and two o'clock in the afternoon the bishop and his men sought along the road and inquired for tidings at the very few houses within reach but in vain the night was dark and little could be done and there was always the hope that on their return they might find that some tidings had been heard and the lost friends might have come back by the other side of the lake so at last they turned back reaching home about four o'clock in the morning no news had been heard and all felt anxious and perplexed but most believed that some place of shelter had been reached as the dogs had not come home they could find their way home from anywhere and there seemed little doubt that overtaken by darkness all three had found shelter in a shepherd's or gamekeeper's hut perhaps on the other side of the lake as they had almost certainly crossed the bridge no one having met them on the road by which they had started nevertheless all that was possible must be done in case of the worst and as soon as daylight returned four parties of men were dispatched in different directions the bishop himself choosing that which his friend and the dogs were known to have taken the day before a whole day of search over miles and miles of the desolate wintry mountains revealed but one fact that the party had eaten their luncheon under a tree in the wood beyond the bridge the squirrels had left the sandwich paper there to tell the tale and for the first time it seemed likely that they had not turned homewards on reaching the head of the lake either by the same road they had come or by that on the other side of the water and through Glencoe one by one the search parties came home with no tidings no trace of the wanderers had been seen no bark of dogs had been heard no help had been found towards the discovery of the sad secret weary and heart-sick as all felt no time was to be lost every hour made the anxiety greater and all were ready in a very short time to start afresh again for the second time all through the long night they wandered over the mountains through the wood and across the deer forest beyond it was an awful night again then again where their lights blown out the snow laid deep in all the hollows where the streams had overflowed their banks the path was a sheet of solid ice the rocks polished and slippery were climbed with utmost difficulty at every opening in the hills an ice-cold wind whirled down Glen and Corey sleet and hailstones beat against their faces the frozen pools in the marshes gave way beneath their feet the night was absolutely dark not a star shone out to give them courage the silence and the sounds were alike awful sometimes they could hear each other's laboured breathing as they tottered on the ice or waded through the snow sometimes all other sounds were lost in the shrieking of the whirlwinds the crackling of the ice and the roaring of the swollen angry streams what could have happened? even if accident had occurred either or both of the dogs would surely have returned and how could even a highland dog, hungry and shelterless live through such a night as this? morning came again and returning to the point near the bridge at which the carriage had been left two of the parties met and drove home for food and dry clothing and to learn what others might have to tell there was no news and again the same earnest friends with many more kind helpers set out on their almost hopeless journey the trackless wilds of the deer forest seemed most likely filled for search and all now in various groups set off in this direction hour after hour passed without any gleam of hope and even the bishop began to feel that everything possible had been done and was turning sadly homewards a second party a few hundreds yards behind had almost come to the same resolve many of the men had been without rest since Thursday and even the dog who was one of the keepers of the deer forest had joined the party was limping wearily and was exhausted by the cold and the rough walking suddenly he stopped and with ears pricked and head erect listened no one knows better than a Highlander the worth of a colleague's opinion and more than one stopped to listen to not far away and yet faint came the bark of a dog among the men was Sandy one of the bishop's stablemen who knew and loved Ri and Spirug and his heart leapt as he recognized the deerhounds bay away to their left the mountains were cleft by a narrow glen the sound came from the bank on the heather side the bishop and his party had climbed to the farther side but a shout reached them alert and watchful as they were they turned back wondering scarcely daring to hope the man who had called them were hastening to a given point the dog knows to ground preceding them there is no mistaking the heir of a dog on business the call his intentness was as different from his late dejection as was the present haste of the men from the anxious watchful plotting of their long search in another moment they came in sight of something which made them hold back the dog and which arrested their own footsteps the bishop himself must be the first to tread on what all felt was holy ground there on the desolate hillside lay the body of father moconi raised about with the spotless snow a peaceful expression on his face one on either side sat the dogs watching still as they had watched through the two long nights of storm and darkness even the approach of friends did not tempt them to forsake their duty with hungry weary faces they looked towards the group which first came near them but not till their own master knelt down beside all that remained of his old friend did they yield up their trust and rise, nom'd and stiff from the posts they had taken up who knows how long before to say a few words of prayer and thanksgiving was the bishop's first thought his second to take from his pocket the sandwiches he carried and to give all to thee and sparrag a beer was contrived of sticks from a rough fence that marked the boundary of the deer forest and the body was lifted from the frozen ground on which it lay the return to Kinloch where the carriage waited was very difficult and the bearers had to change places very often slow as was their progress it was as rapid as three could manage nom'd with cold and exhausted with hunger the little dog was easily carried and for once little sparrag was contend to rest no one will ever know what those faithful dogs felt and endured during those two days and nights of storm and loneliness those who sought them in the darkness of that second awful night must have passed very near the spot where they lay sleeping perhaps or deafened by the storm or even possibly listening anxiously with beating hearts to the footsteps which came so near and yet turned away leaving them faithful to their post in the night they, in their degree, like the man whose last sleep they guarded were true and faithful servants it is pleasant to know that three and sparrag did not suffer permanently for all they had undergone they lived for five years and a half after and had many and many a happy rumble when the sun was bright and the woods were green and squirrels and hares were merry they could not be better cared for than they had always been but if possible they were more indulged if they contrived to get a dinner in the kitchen as well as in the dining room their friends remembered the days when they had none and nobody told tales if they lay in the sun quite across the front door or took up the whole of the rug before the winter fire everyone felt that there were arrears of warmth to be made up to them their portraits were painted and in the sculpture which in his own church commemorates Father Mokoniki's death the dogs have not been forgotten Rhi was the elder of the two and towards the end of his thirteen years showed signs of old age and became romantic and feeble but sparrag, though three years younger, did not long survive him they rest now under a cairn in a beautiful garden they loved so well dark green fir trees shelter their grave a gentle stream goes merrily by on its way to the lake below and in the crannies of the stones of which the cairn is built fox gloves and primroses and little ferns grow fresh and green on the cairn is this inscription in memory of 15th December 1887 Rhi died 19th January 1893 Sparrag died 28th August 1893 End of section 21, recording by Tanya Kay Section 22 of the animal storybook This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information on to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Sunil Goswami The Animal Storybook edited by Andrew Lang Monkey Tricks and Sally at the Zoo Naturalist's Notebook Some monkeys are cleverer and more civilized than others and the chiefs have their followers well in hand Every monkey having his own special duties which he is very careful to fulfill When the stores of food which have been collected are getting low, the elders of the tribe greybeards with long mains meet together and decide where they shall go to lay in fresh supplies This important point being settled the whole body of monkeys even down to the very little ones leave the woods or mountain ravine where they live and form into regular order First scouts are posted some being sent on to places in advance others being left to guard the rear and the main body made up of the young and helpless monkeys follow the chiefs who march solemnly in front and carefully survey every precipice or doubtful place before they suffer anyone to pass over it It is not at all easy even for an elderly and experienced monkey to keep order among the host of lively chattering creatures for whose safety he is responsible and indeed it would often be an impossible task if it were not for the help of the rear guard these much-tried animals have to make up quarrels which often break out by the way to prevent the greedy ones from stopping to eat every scrap of fruit or berry that hangs from the trees as they pass and to scold the mothers who try to linger behind in order to dress their children's hair and to make them smart for the day under these conditions it takes a long time even for monkeys to reach their destination which is generally a corn field but once their scouts are sent out to every rock or rising ground so as to guard against any surprise then the whole tribe fall to and after filling their cheek pouches with ears of corn they make up bundles to tuck under their arms after the long march and the hasty picking they begin to get thirsty as well as hungry and the next thing is to find some water this is very soon done as they seem able to detect it under the sand however deep down it may be and by dint of taking regular turns at digging it does not take long before they have laid bare a well that is large enough for everybody monkeys love by nature to imitate what they see and have been known to smoke a pipe and to pretend to read a book that they have seen other people reading but sometimes they can do a great deal more than this and show that they can calculate and reason better than many men a large Abyssinian monkey was one day being taken round Khatum by its master and made to perform all sorts of tricks for the amusement of the bystanders among these was a date seller who was squatting on the ground beside his fruit now the monkey was passionately fond of dates but being very cunning was careful not to let this appear and went on performing his tricks as usual drawing little by little nearer to the date basket as he did so when he thought he was near enough for his purpose he first pretended to die slowly and naturally then after lying for a moment on the sand as stiff as a corpse suddenly bounded up with his cream straight in front of the date seller's face and stared at him with his wild eyes the men look back at him spellbound quite unaware that one of the monkey's hind feet was in the date basket flowing up as much fruit as its long toes could hold by some such trick as this the monkey managed to steal enough food daily to keep him fat and comfortable how did your monkey ever lived in the ugly old Sally who died at the zoological gardens of London only a few years ago her keeper had spent an immense deal of time and patience in training her up and it was astonishing what she was able to do Sally he would say putting a tin cup full of milk into her hands with a spoon hanging from it show us how you used to drink when you were in the woods upon which Sally stuck all her fingers into the mill and sucked them greedily now he continued show us how you drink since you became a lady and then Sally took the spoon and drank her milk in dainty little sips next he picked up a handful of straw from the bottom of the cage and remarked carelessly here just tear those into six will you all the same length Sally took the straws and in half a minute the thing was done but she had not come to the end of her surprises yet you're very fond of pear I know said the keeper producing one out of his pocket and cutting it with his knife well I'm going to put some on my hand and not to touch it until I have cut two short pieces and three long ones and then you may take the second long one but you aren't to touch any of the rest the man went on cutting slices without stopping and was quite ready to begin upon a sixth when Sally stretched out her hand and took the fourth lying along the row which she had been told she might have very likely she might have accomplished even more wonderful things than this but one cold day she caught a chill and died in a few hours of bronchitis end of section 22 recording by Sunil Goswami section 23 of the animal storybook this is a LibriVox recording or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org the animal storybook edited by Andrew Lang how the Cayman was killed from Watterton's Wonderings in South America in the year 1782 it was born in the old house of Walton near Pontifrak in Yorkshire a boy named Charles Watterton who afterwards became very famous as a traveler and a naturalist as soon as he could walk he was always to be found poking about among trees or playing with animals and both at home and at school he got into many a scrape of his love of adventure he was only about 10 when some other boys dared him to ride on a cow and of course he was not going to be beaten so up he got while the cow was only thinking about how good the grass tasted but the moment she felt a strange weight on her back she flung her heels straight into the air and off flew Master Watterton over her head many years after this Watterton was traveling in South America seeing and doing many curious things for a long time he had set his heart on catching a caiman a kind of alligator that is found in the rivers of Guiana for this purpose he took some Indians with him to the Esequibol which falls into the sea not far from De Merara and was known to be a famous place for caimans there was no good attempting to go after them during the long bright day he was carefully in hiding and never thought of coming out till the sun was below the horizon so Watterton and his Indians waited in patience till the moon rose and everything was still except that now and then a huge fish would leap into the air and plunge again under water suddenly there broke forth a fearful noise unlike the cry of any other creature as one caiman called another answered and although caimans are not very common anywhere that night you would have thought that the world was full of them the three men stopped eating their supper of turtle and turned and looked over the river Watterton could see nothing but the Indians silently pointed to a black log that lay in the stream just over the place where they had baited a hook with a large fish and bound it on a board at the end of the board a rope was fastened and this was also made fast to a tree on the bank by and by the black log began to move and in the bright moonlight he was clearly seen to open his long jaws and to take the bait inside them but the watchers on shore pulled the rope too soon and the caiman dropped the bait at once then for an hour he lay quite still thinking what he should do next but feeling cross at having lost his supper he made up his mind to try once more and cautiously took the bait in his mouth again the rope was pulled and again the bait was dropped into the river but in the end the caiman proved more cunning than the Indians for after he played this trick for three or four times he managed to get the fish without the hook and when the sun rose again Watterton knew that caiman hunting was over for that day for two or three nights they watched and waited but did not ever get so near success as before let them conceal the hook and the bait ever so cleverly the caiman was sure to be cleverer than they and when morning came the bait was always gone and the hook always left the Indians however had no intention of allowing the caiman to beat them in the long run and one of them invented a new hook which this time was destined to better luck he took four or five pieces of wood about a foot long barred them at each end and tied them firmly to the end of a rope 30 yards long above the barb was baited the flesh of anakuri a creature the size of a rabbit the hole was then fast into a post driven into the sand and the attention of the caiman aroused to what was going on by some sharp blows on an empty tortoise shell which served as a drum about half past five the Indian got up and stole out to look and then he called triumphantly to the rest to come up at once for on the hook was a caiman ten feet and a half long but hard as it had been to secure him it was nothing to the difficulty of getting him out alive and with his scales uninjured especially as the four Indians absolutely refused to help and that left only two white men in a negro to grapple with a huge monster of these two the negro showed himself very timid and it was not easy to persuade him to be of any use the position was certainly puzzling if the Indians refused to help the caiman could not be taken alive at all and if they gave it it was only at the price of injuring the animal and spoiling its skin at length the compromise occurred to Waterton he would take the mast of the canoe which was about eight feet long and would thrust it down the caiman's throat if it showed any signs of attacking him on this condition the Indians agreed to give their aid matters being thus arranged Waterton then placed his men about seven in all at the end of the rope and told them to pull till the caiman rose to the surface while he himself knelt down with a pole about four yards from the bank ready for the caiman should he appear roaring slowly the men began to pull but the caiman was not to be caught without a struggle he snored it and plunged violently till the rope was slacken when he instantly died below then the men braced all their strength for another effort this time out he came and made straight for Waterton the naturalist was so excited by his capture that he lost all sense of the danger of his position he waited till the caiman was within a few feet of him when he flung away his pole and with a fly leap landed on the caiman's back twisting up the creature's feet and holding tightly on to them the caiman very naturally could not in the least understand what had happened but he began to plunge and struggle and to lash out behind with his thick scaly tail while the Indians looked on from afar and shouted in triumph to Waterton the only fear was, lest the rope prove too weak for the strain in which case he and the caiman would promptly disappear into the depths of the essay kibble but happily the rope was strong and after being dragged by the Indians for 40 yards along the sand the caiman gave in and Waterton contrived to tie his jaws together and to lash his feet onto his back then he was put to death and so ended the chase of the caiman End of section 23 section 24 of the animal storybook this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Marilyn Rakes the animal storybook edited by Andrew Lang chapter 24 the story of Fido by Miss A. M. Aline Fido's master had to go a long journey across the country to a certain town and he was carrying with him a large bag of gold to deposit at the bank there this bag he carried on his saddle where he was riding as in those days there were no trains and he had to travel as quickly as he could Fido scampered cheerfully along at the horse's heels and every now and then he laughed to her and Fido would wag her tail and bark back an answer the sun was hot and the road dusty and poor Fido's little legs grew more and more tired at last they came to a cool shady wood and the master stopped dismounted and tied his horse to a tree and took his heavy saddlebags from the saddle he laid them down very carefully then he drew his cloak about him lay down with his head on the bags and soon was fast asleep little Fido curled herself up close to her master's head with her nose over one end of the bags and went to sleep too but she did not sleep very soundly for her master had told her to watch and every few moments she would open her eyes and prick up her ears in case anyone were coming the wounding of Fido her master was tired and slept soundly and long much longer than he had intended at last he was awakened by Fido's licking his face the dog saw that the sun was nearly setting and knew that it was time for her master to go on his journey the man padded Fido and then jumped up much trouble to find he had slept so long he snatched up his cloak threw it over his horse untied the bridle sprang into the saddle and calling Fido started off in great haste but Fido did not seem ready to follow him she ran after the horse and bit at his heels and then ran back again to the woods all the time barking furiously this she did several times but her master had no time to heed her and galloped away thinking she would follow him at last the little dog sat down by the roadside and looked sorrowfully after her master until he had turned a bend in the road when he was no longer in sight she sprang up with a wild bark and ran after him again she overtook him just as he had stopped to water his horse at a brook that flowed across the road she stood beside the brook and barked so savagely that her master rode back and called her to him but instead of coming she darted off down the road still barking her master did not know what to think and began to fear that his dog was going mad mad dogs are afraid of water and act in a strange way when they see it while the man was thinking of this Fido came running back again and dashed at him furiously she leapt at the legs of his horse and even jumped up and bit the toe of her master's boot then she ran down the road again barking with all her might Fido was now sure that she was mad and taking out his pistol he shot her he rode way quickly for he loved her dearly and could not bear to see her die he had not ridden very far when he stopped suddenly he felt under his coat for his saddle bags they were not there could he have dropped them or had he left them behind in the wood where he had rested he felt sure they must be in the wood having picked them up or fastening them to his saddle he turned his horse and rode back again as hard as he could when he came to the brook he sighed and said poor Fido but though he looked about he could see nothing of her when he crossed the brook he saw some drops of blood on the ground and all along the road he still saw drops of blood tears came into his eyes and he felt very sad and guilty my little Fido had acted so strangely she knew that her master had left behind his precious bags of gold and so she had tried to tell him in the only way she could all the way to the wood lay the drops of blood at last he reached the wood and there, all safe lay the bags of gold and beside them with her little nose lying over one end of them lay faithful Fido who you will be pleased to hear recovered from her wound and lived to a great age End of Chapter 24