to make sure he was free; then, with a scream of triumph, rose upward, the long body of the serpent trailing åfter him like a train. 10. At this moment another scream reached the ears of the young hunters. It might have påssed for the echo of the first, but its tones were wilder and louder. All eyes were tûrned in the direction whence it came. The boys knew very well that it was the white-headed eagle. 11. The kite had heard the cry too, and at once tried to rise higher into the air, resolved to hold on to his hard-earned plunder. Birds of his species will sometimes outfly and escape the eagle. Up rose the kite, straining ěvèry pinion of his pointed wings, and upward goes the pursuing eagle. Closer and closer they appear to come. Soon both disappear beyond the reach of vision. Hark! there is à sound like the whirling of a rocket-something has fallen on the tree-top. It is the kitedead, and the blood spurting from a wound in his shoulder! 12. And now the eagle has shot down with the snake in her talons, gliding slowly over the top of the trees, and ȧlighted on the summit of a dead magnolia.1 Basil seized his rifle, sprung on his horse, and rode off among the bushes. He had been gone but a few minutes, when a sharp crack was heard, and the eagle was seen tumbling from her perch. This was the låst link in the CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION. THA IV. 32. CRUELTY OF ANIMALS. REID.2 'HAT one animal should support its own life only by the destruction of another creature, appears to be rather å cruel dispensation of nature, and repugnant 5 to the beauty and kindness which prevail in the order of created things. Averse 6 as are we, the created beings, to inflicting pain on any of our 1 Mag nō'li a, å tree having large, fragrant flowers. * Mayne Reid, å British novelist, was born in the north of Ireland in 1818, He came to America in 1838, traveled extensively in nearly every State of the Union, and aided the United States in her war with Mex ico. He now resides in London. His 4 Dis'pěn sa'tion, that which is commånded, dealt out, or appointed. "Re pug'nant, opposite; contrary. 6 A verse', unwilling. fellow-creatures, it can not but seem strange that the Creätor should have made so many animals to suffer a violent death, and apparently to endure torturing pangs, by the lacerations1 to which they are subjected by their destroyers. 2. The reflection is à just one, and one which, until late years, has never received a word of answer. Endeavors were made to reconcile the Divine love with this appârent eruëlty, by asserting that the lower animals are endued with so low a sense of pain that an injury which would inflict severèst torture on a man would cause but a slight pang to the animal. 3. Yět, as all animals are clearly sensitive to pain, and many of them are known to feel it acutely, this argument has but trifling weight. Moreover the system which is insensible to pain would be equally dull to enjoyment; and thus we should reduce the animal creation to å level but little higher than that of the vegetables. 4. The true answer is, that, by some merciful and marvelous provisions, the mode of whose working is at present hidden, the sense of pain is driven out of the victim, as soon as it is seized or struck by its destroyer. The first person who seems to have taken this view of the case was Livingstone, the well-known traveler, who learned the lesson by personal experience. After describing an attack made upon a lion, he proceeds: å 5. "Starting, and looking hälf round, I saw the lion just in the act of springing upon me. I was upon a little height: he caught my shoulder as he sprung, and we both came to the ground below together. Growling horribly close to my ear, he shook me as a terrier dog shakes a rat. The shock produced a stupor similar to that which seems to be felt by a mouse åfter the first shake of the cat. It caused a sort of dreaminèss, in which there was no sense of pain or feeling of terror, though I was quite conscious of all that was happening. It was like what patients, partially under the influence of ehloroform, describe, who see all the operation, but feel not the knife. 1 Lăc'er a'tion, act of rending or teâring; breach made by tearing. 2 David Livingstone, the celebrated African traveler, missionary, and author, was born at Glasgow, Scotland, in 1815. He was busily exploring portions of Central Africa until his death in 1873. 3 Chloroform (klō'ro fôrm), an oily liquid uşed to cause insensibility; also applied externally to lessen pain. 6. "This singular condition was not the result of any mental process. The shake annihilated 1 fear, and allowed no sense of horror on looking round at the beast. This peculiar state is probably produced in all animals killed by the Carnivorȧ; 2 and, if so, is ȧ merciful provision by our benevolent Creator for lessening the pain of death." 7. This fearful experience is, although most valuable, not å solitary one, and is made more valuable by that very fact. I am acquainted with a similar story of an officer of the Indian army, a German nobleman by birth, who, while in Bengal, was seized and carried away by a tiger. He described the whole scene in much the same language as that of Livingstone, saying, that, as far as the bodily senses were concerned, the chief sensation was that of a pleasant drowsinèss, rather admixed with curiosity as to the manner in which the brute was going to eat him. 8. Only by his reasoning powers, which remained unshāken, could he feel that his position was one of almost hōpelèss danger, and that he ought to attempt to escape. Perhaps, in so sudden and overwhelming a shock, the mind may be startled for a time from its hold upon the nerves, and be, so to speak, not at hōme to receive any impression from the nervous system. 9. Many men have fallen into the jaws of these fearful beasts, but very few have survived to tell their tale. In the case of Livingstone, rescue came through the hands of a Hottentot servant, who fired upon the lion, and who was himself attacked by the infuriated animal. In the latter instance, the intended victim owed his life to à sudden whim of the tiger, which, after carrying him for some distance, threw him down, and went off without him. The officer used thankfully to attribute his escape to his meager and fleshless condition, which, as he said, induced the ĕpieurē'an 5 tiger to reject a dinner on so lean and tough an animal as himself. 1 An ni' hi lāt ed, reduced to nothing; destroyed. 2 Car nĭv'o ra, an order of animals which live on flesh. 3 Bengal (běn gal'), the largest presidency and province of British India. fhin; lean; without strength, richness, or the like. 5 Ep'i cu re'an, pertaining to Epicurus, à celebrated Greek philosopher, who regarded pleasure as the highest human happiness; hence, given to over-indulgence, es 4 Mēa'ger, having little flesh; pecially in the pleasures of the table. SECTION X. I. 33. THE TIDES. HE MOON is at her full, and riding high, ΤΗ The airs that hover in the summer sky Are all ȧsleep to night. 2. Thêre comes no voice from the great woodlands round That mûrmûred all the day; Beneath the shadow of their boughs, the ground Is not more still than they. 3. But ever heaves and moans the restlèss Deep; Afar I see the glimmering billōws leap : I see them breaking near. 4. Each wave springs upward, climbing toward the fâir, Pure light that sits on high ; Springs eagerly, and faintly sinks to whêre The mother-waters lie. 5. Upward again it swells; the moonbeams show, Again it feels the fatal weight below, And sinks, but not to rest. 6. Again, and yet again; until the Deep And, with à sullen moan, åbǎshed, they creep 7. Brief respite! they shall rush from that recess And fling themselves, with unavailing stress, 1 Crěst, the highest part or summit; the foamy, feather like top of å wave. 2 A bǎshed', much confused. moon. 3 Rěs'pĭte, å putting off of that which was appointed; delay; rest. 4 Plăc'id, pleased; contented; unruffled; quiet. 8. O restlèss Sea! that in thy prison here Through the slow centuries1 yearning to be near 9. The glorious source of light and heat must warm And on those mounting waves å nobler form 10. Then only may they leave the waste of brine And rise above the hills of earth, and shine In å serener sphere. II. W. C. BRYANT. 34. TIDE-BOUND IN THE SEA-CAVES. PART FIRST. IT was on å pleasant spring morning that, with my little the eastern promontory, that, with its stern granitic wall, bars ȧeçess' for ten days out of every fourteen to the wonders of the Dooeot, and saw it stretching provokingly out into the green water. It was hard to be disappointed, and the caves so near. 2. The tide was a low neap; and if we wanted a passage dry-shod, it behooved us to wait for at least a week. But neither of us understood the philosophy of neap-tides at that period. I was quite sure I had got round at low water, with 1 Century (sent'yu ry), å hundred years. 2 Wěl'ter, to rise and fall; to tumble over; to wallow. 8 Sea, and connected with wooded headlands which are called South and North Sutors. 6 Neap, neap tides are those which 3 Prom'on to ry, headland; high happen in the second and låst quar land extending into the sea. 4 Gra nĭt'ic, having the nature of, or consisting of, grănite-å kind of rock. 5 Doo'cot, sea-caves situated in Scotland, near the entrance of the Cromarty Frith, an inlet of the North ters of the moon, when the difference between high and low water is less than at any other period in the month. Be hoove', to be fit, meet, or necessary for. 8 Phi los'o phy, the knowledge of effects by their causes. |