MALI BOWED RESPECTFULLY TO HIM.

TALES OUT OF SCHOOL

BY

FRANK R. STOCKTON

NEW EDITION.

NEW YORK:
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS,
1916

Copyright 1875
BY
SCRIBNER, ARMSTRONG & CO.
Copyright 1903
BY
MARIAN E. STOCKTON

PREFACE.

It is not generally considered proper to tell tales out of school, but I shall venture it in this book. And if any of the Arabs, or tigers, or Cabordmen, that I tell tales about, do not like it, they can come to me and find as much fault as they please. I shall be glad to hear what they have to say.

But I shall not tell all the tales myself. The lady who in “Round-about Rambles,” took you to Pompeii and many strange and interesting places, will tell you some of these stories.

CONTENTS.

TALES OUT OF SCHOOL.

COLONEL MYLES’ ADVENTURES IN AFRICA AND INDIA.

He had shot many a buffalo. Indeed he sometimes thought that he had shot too many, for out on our Western prairies it was often impossible for him to use the meat, or even to take the skins of the animals that fell before his generally unerring rifle. And the Colonel was very much opposed to the useless slaughter of wild animals. If the buffaloes did any harm while alive or could be put to any use when dead it was all very well to shoot them. Otherwise, not.

And yet, whenever Colonel Myles saw a buffalo he could not help shooting at it, if he happened to have his gun with him.

So he made up his mind that he would go abroad and hunt animals that ought to be killed.

Now you understand how the Colonel happened to go to Africa.

A COMFORTABLE TRIP.

His sporting experiences did not commence as soon as he set foot on “Afric’s burning shores,” and indeed it was several months before he could make all the arrangements for a trip through those portions of the country where wild and savage beasts, worthy the bullets of such a hunter, were to be found.

Some parts of his journey were very pleasant, even when he saw no game, because of the novel modes of traveling.

For instance he was carried many miles in a sort of portable lounge which was borne on the heads of four negroes. The Colonel lay at ease on this elevated conveyance, which had a little fence on each side to keep him from rolling off, and hoops so arranged that when it rained or the sun shone too brightly, a canopy might be thrown over him without interfering with his comfort.

Here he could lie and read or smoke while his swift-footed bearers carried him along at a rate which would have obliged a horse to hurry himself considerably in order to keep up with them.

Another time, accompanied by a number of negro soldiers, and preceded by a set of fantastic savages who danced before him with horns on their heads and shields and spears in their hands, he rode for many miles upon a well trained native bull.

This steed was not very fast, but he had great endurance and traveled very easily and pleasantly, without seeming to mind in the least the black fellows who leaped and shouted in front of him in a way that would have frightened the soberest old horse that ever hauled a sand cart.

Perhaps the bull knew that these men were merely trying to impress upon the mind of the Colonel that they were wonderfully brave, and that with their spears and their yells they could scare away any enemy that might be encountered, while in fact a white man with a couple of pistols could have frightened them out of their wits in about half a minute.

THE COLONEL ON THE BULL.

But whether the bull knew this or not, he paid no attention to the dancing braves, and carried the Colonel faithfully for many a long mile.

But Colonel Myles did not always travel on bulls or in hammocks. After a time he found an admirable horse, on which he rode on many a hunting expedition.

Among the first large animals he hunted—he did not count deer and such small game—were rhinoceroses, of which there were a great many in that part of the country.

One of his first hunts of the kind began in rather a curious manner.

He had heard that there were rhinoceroses to be found in a certain hilly part of the country, and, accompanied by two negroes, he started on his horse quite early in the morning.

Reaching some very rough ground, he thought it better to climb over the rocks on foot, so he tied his horse to the branch of a tree and set off with his companions to reconnoitre. They walked up and down through the bushes, and over gullies, searching for the big animals they were after, but not a horn of one of them could they see.

At last, returning somewhat discouraged, they reached the top of a little hill, and there their eyes were greeted with an unexpected sight.

They saw a rhinoceros, a big fellow too, but he was not hunted,—he was hunting!

And what was especially startling was that he was hunting the Colonel’s horse!

The great beast had caught sight of the horse, tied to the tree, and was charging down upon him at full speed.

When they arrived on the scene, the rhinoceros was quite near the horse, who was rearing and pitching with terror, and pulling furiously at his bridle. The rhinoceros had his head down and his long sharp horn seemed to be almost under the poor horse.

Another second and the horse would certainly perish.

THE RHINOCEROS SEEMED ALMOST UNDER THE POOR HORSE.

But in that second the Colonel’s rifle was at his shoulder and a sharp shot rang out in the air.

The ball struck the great beast just behind his shoulder. It did not kill him, but it stopped his onward course. He turned toward the hill, and at that moment the horse tore himself loose and galloped away.

The rhinoceros now advanced towards the three men. But he found them very different kind of game from a poor horse tied to a tree.

Again the Colonel’s rifle rang out and Mr. Thick-hide rolled over dead.

This was the first rhinoceros Colonel Myles had ever shot, and he was proud of his achievement, as well he might be, for it is not an easy thing to kill a rhinoceros.

If you do not hit him in exactly the right place you might as well fire at a brick wall.

But Colonel Myles was a capital shot, although he had never had such difficult creatures to shoot as this great animal which now lay at his feet. Perhaps his alligator hunts in Florida had taught him how to aim at iron-clad game, but there is a difference between shooting alligators and rhinoceroses. If you miss the alligator there is generally an end of the matter, for he will plunge into the water as soon as he can, and disappear. But if you miss the rhinoceros he will plunge after you, and if you cannot disappear very rapidly there may be an end of the matter, but in the wrong way.

The horse did not run very far, and one of the swift-footed negroes soon caught him.

This was not the only occasion when a rhinoceros proved a very dangerous animal to hunt. One day the Colonel was out with a large party. One man besides himself was mounted on a horse, and there were half-a-dozen negroes on foot, well armed with guns.

THE RHINOCEROS AFTER THE COLONEL.

For some time they scoured the country without finding any signs of a rhinoceros, but at last the tracks of one were discovered, and he was followed up to his retreat.

When Colonel Myles first caught sight of him he was standing quietly under a tree. Our hunter took a good aim at him and fired, but just as he fired, his horse, apparently bitten by a fly, gave a start, and the ball struck the rhinoceros on one of his heavy flaps of skin, with just enough effect to make him turn around to see who was there.

Then the Colonel fired again—he had a double-barreled rifle—and this time the ball struck the rhinoceros fair on the nose, and it made him mad. Without stopping to consider the matter, he turned squarely round and charged down straight upon the hunters.

The Colonel had no time to reload his gun, so he put spurs to his horse and dashed away as fast as he could go.

The other man on horseback did not wait for the savage beast to come after him but galloped off in another direction. As to the negroes, they seemed to forget that they had guns, or else they thought that if the Colonel could not hit the beast in the right spot there was no use in their trying to do it. At any rate they took to their heels. As the rhinoceros dashed on, he ran right over one negro, knocking him heels over head, and he came after the Colonel and his horse at a rate that gave good reason to expect that in a minute or two he would get his horn under the horse and toss him over.

But the horse was a good one and he kept ahead of the beast until his rider loaded again. Then the Colonel turned and as he was so near the rhinoceros he put a ball into him that rolled him over dead.

This was one of the most dangerous hunting expeditions in which Colonel Myles ever engaged. Had his horse been a poor one, or had he stumbled, there would have been no more hunts in Africa—or anywhere else—for our hero.

He soon had another rhinoceros hunt, which was not dangerous, but very peculiar.

He started out with four negroes on horseback, and none of them were armed with anything but the swords of the country, which are not exactly the things with which to cut sheet-iron, or rhinoceros hides.

The Colonel was well mounted, and of course had his rifle. Before long two rhinoceroses were started up together, and they rushed out of the bushes so suddenly and dashed away in such a frightened way that the Colonel could not get a shot at them. Whichever way they ran there was always a negro between his gun and the flying beast.

Perceiving that the rhinoceroses were trying their best to get away, the negroes became very brave, and rode after them as if they intended to chop them up into little pieces, if they could only get some fair cracks at them.

In fact they were so enthusiastic, and kept so close to the rhinoceroses that it was impossible for the Colonel to fire at the animals without running the risk of killing a black man, and so on they went as hard as they all could gallop. The rhinoceroses seemed like a couple of great fat hogs, but they could run famously, and it was as much as the hunters could do to keep up with them.

One darkey kept ahead of the rest, and quite close to the flying beasts, and he whacked away at their thick hides, with no other effect than to make them run faster.

The other negroes shouted and yelled as if they were trying to frighten the rhinoceroses; and, at any rate, to make them run as fast as they could.

The Colonel held his gun ready to fire if he could get around where he could have a fair shot, but his shouts to the negroes to fall back and leave the beasts to him were totally disregarded. They had found some game that was afraid of them, and they were going to chase it, as long as it would run away.

CHASING A PAIR OF RHINOCEROSES.

The result of it all was that the rhinoceroses ran into some heavy brushwood where the Colonel’s horse could not follow them, and he did not get even one shot at them.

It was very disappointing to him, after having been so close to the game. But he made up his mind that he would never again go hunting when there were mounted negroes in the party. They put themselves forward entirely too prominently.

These negroes were excellent fellows to run after any thing which was not apt to run after them.

The Colonel once saw a very funny incident which exhibited this quality in the natives in a very striking manner.

In a village where Colonel Myles was staying, making arrangements for a hunt, there was a large elephant, which belonged to another village some forty miles away.

This elephant was rather an unruly beast, and did not at all like his new quarters, or the new driver who had charge of him.

He seemed to be home-sick, and he gave a great deal of trouble by his uneasy disposition. One day he broke loose, and no sooner did he find himself at liberty than he determined to go home.

So off he started at the top of his speed, but he had not gone far before his flight was discovered, and six or eight negroes, snatching up their swords, immediately gave chase.

They were all on foot, but they could run so fast that they soon caught up with the elephant.

But then all their trouble commenced. He wouldn’t stop!

They shouted, they yelled, they brandished their swords, and running before the great beast, they tried their best to make him stop.

But the elephant, with his trunk and his tail in the air, strode along at a tremendous pace. He did not seem to like his company, for he bellowed loudly as he ran, but they could no more stop him than a lot of spring chickens could stop you if you took it in your head to run home some day in recess-time.

The negroes sprang in front of the elephant, until it seemed as if he certainly would run over them, and they dashed at him from all sides, waving their swords in his face as they shouted to him to halt, but he kept bravely on until the Colonel lost sight of the party.

Together, they ran four or five miles, and then the negroes thought they might as well give up that chase as a bad job, and the elephant went on to his home unmolested.

THE ELEPHANT WANTS TO GO HOME.

If he had known what he ought to do, he would have turned on those darkies and chased them about half a mile. In that way he would have managed very soon to relieve himself of his troublesome pursuers. They would have gone home quite as rapidly as he wanted to go to his home.

Colonel Myles staid in Africa nearly a year and sometimes had a good deal of exciting hunting, and at other times weeks would pass when he was obliged to stay in some native village for want of transportation and guides.

Sometimes too, he found himself in a part of the country where there was no large game worth mentioning.

He tried hard to find a gorilla, but never succeeded. He often heard lions in the night, and once came upon a big fellow who was lying down by the side of a fallen tree in the very road over which he and his followers were traveling. The tree was of a yellowish brown color and the lion was of very much the same color, so the Colonel did not see him until he came quite near to him.

As quickly as possible he jerked his rifle from his shoulder, but his horse started and reared, and the lion sprang to his feet, and giving one hasty look at the advancing party, disappeared in the bushes.

The Colonel was very much disappointed at this mishap, and it was shortly after he had made up his mind that he never would get a good shot at a lion, that he concluded to go to India.

A party of traders were on their way to the coast, and the Colonel joined them.

Reaching the coast he found a vessel nearly ready to sail, and in it he took passage to Bombay.

He was in India nearly two months before he had an opportunity to try his favorite rifle on any large game.

He preferred to hunt tigers, for tigers are such scourges to the localities in which they are found that he felt justified in killing as many of them as he could. But it turned out that his first hunt was a buffalo hunt—and not only his first but his second and third, and a good many after that.

He got in a part of the country in which there were a good many buffaloes, and as they were needed as food it paid very well to hunt them, and there were always natives enough who were willing to help if they might have a large share of the meat.

One day one of these natives had a little more buffalo hunting than he wanted. The colonel perceived a very large fine bull buffalo standing in an open space and was just about to take a good aim at him when the animal began to trot off towards a dense thicket. The colonel was afraid of losing him and so he fired too quickly. If he hit the buffalo at all he merely wounded him very slightly, for he dashed off into the thicket.

The native attendant, however, was quite sure that the buffalo had been fairly hit and would soon drop, so off he rushed to find him.

While he was pushing his way through the thicket he heard a crashing noise, and looking around saw the savage bull charging down upon him from a little eminence where there was a comparatively open space.

The man had a gun, but it was not loaded. There was no chance of his running away, for the bushes and reeds were too close and strong to allow of that. There was no tree near but one very thick one, up which he had no time to climb.

The bull stopped for an instant, and then put down his head for another charge.

The man had no time to do much thinking. Whatever he did in self-defence must be done quickly, that he knew well. So he darted behind the tree, and jerking his blanket from his back he put it on his gun-barrel and waved it about.

The buffalo immediately accepted the challenge, and came at him full tear. He rushed at the cloth, and as he passed he took it away on his horns. Then the native hurried off as fast as he could go in the opposite direction.

The colonel, who had loaded up and was waiting for his attendant to return, was very much astonished to see a buffalo rush out of the thicket with a blanket twisted about his horns.

The animal evidently did not notice him, and so he raised his rifle and shot him dead without the slightest trouble.

THE NATIVE’S TRICK.

As soon as the buffalo was quite dead, the native appeared from the thicket and immediately began to boast of the share he had had in killing the animal.

It is quite certain that had he not succeeded in his very clever trick the buffalo would either have killed him or would have got away safely.

A week or two after this the Colonel was invited by an officer in the English army, named Major Alden, to go wild boar-hunting with him.

The Colonel was quite willing, and so they set out together for the river, some three miles away, where they expected to find a wild boar or two. A crowd of natives preceded them, beating up the bushes to drive out the boars.

Our hunters were both well mounted and armed with long spears instead of guns. The Major, who wore an undress uniform, carried also a short sword.

They had scarcely reached the river-bank when they saw a boar rush out of some underbrush and make rapidly for the river.

Both horsemen dashed off in pursuit, Major Alden in advance. Just as he reached the edge of the high bank the Major thought that he had better rein up, but he did not think soon enough. He stopped quite near the brink of the bank, and was on the point of turning back, when the earth caved in beneath his horse, and down into the water and mud, some ten feet below, went horse and rider!

Fortunately the river was not very deep at that place, but it was deep enough. The Major went head foremost over his horse’s neck into the water, and the horse with a tremendous splash, went into the mud as far as his legs would let him go.

Just in time, our Colonel reined up, and below him he beheld a doleful sight.

The Major had risen to his feet but was dripping with mud and water that fell in little cascades from his face, head, and hands and every part of his body.

The horse was plunging wildly in the river and the poor Major did not seem to be able to see how to find his way to dry land.

THE MAJOR’S TUMBLE.

If the Colonel had been a boy he would have had a good laugh at this mishap of his companion, but as he was a man he tried not to add to the discomfiture of the Major by making fun of him. But when the native beaters came up they set up a shout of laughter, and that made the Major angry enough, and as he wobbled slowly to shore he growled out to the “black rascals” a command to stop their noise, and get his horse out.

The black rascals, although they did see a good deal of fun in this unfortunate tumble, proved themselves very useful, for they cleaned the horse and saddle, and while the Major took a bath in the river, (at a place where it was deeper and with a better bottom) they dried his clothes and brushed them with bunches of twigs until they looked quite presentable, and in the afternoon they all set out again on their hunt.

But the Major seemed doomed to misfortune that day. He had no spear, for his weapon had been broken in the fall of the morning, and he had sent one of the men back to the village to get him another.

But before the man returned a boar was started up and Colonel Myles started off in pursuit. The boar dashed into the underbrush, the Colonel and a dozen natives after him full tilt, and the farther that boar ran the madder he got.

He didn’t like being chased, and I suppose no sensible boar would like it.

Directly he made a sharp turn and rushed out of the bushes to the river bank where the Major was sitting on his horse waiting for his spear.

Seeing a man on a horse the boar very naturally thought that he must be the person who had been after him, and so, full of vengeance, he dashed at him at full speed, his horrid tusks glistening in the sunlight.

Instantly the Major pulled his feet out of the stirrups and drew his sword. There was no time to ride away.

But the sword was short, and the boar was very close to the horse, who snorted and plunged so that the Major could scarcely keep his seat, much less get a fair crack at the boar.

THE MAJOR AND THE BOAR.

If the savage beast had succeeded in getting under the horse he would have wounded him desperately.

But Major Alden was a cool and a brave man. He kept the horse away from the boar as well as he could, and at last he got a good chance, and down came his sword on the boar’s neck.

But this cut did not seem to cool the boar’s courage very much. The savage animal still charged, the horse plunged and the Major slashed, and so the fight went on—charge, plunge, slash, until the Colonel came riding up with his spear, and soon put an end to the career of the ferocious boar.

The next time the Major and Colonel Myles went out to hunt they went after tigers.

Tiger hunting is very popular among the white residents of India, and it is well that it is, for the natives do not often succeed so well in their hunts after tigers, as the tigers succeed in their hunts after the natives.

It is astonishing to read, in the government reports, how many people are annually killed by tigers in some parts of India.

The Colonel’s first tiger hunt was not a very ambitious one. He did not go out into the jungle on an elephant in company with forty or fifty natives, but he and the Major, with two or three followers, started off on foot. They walked a long distance without seeing a sign of tigers, although they were in a place where two bullocks had been killed by these animals the previous night.

Towards noon, however, one of the natives discovered the plain tracks of a tiger, and the party followed the trail until they lost it in a mass of rocks. In these rocks, however, was a large cave, and the natives assured them that they would find the animal in this cave.

No one was particularly anxious to go into it to see if the tiger was there, but, peering carefully in at the entrance of the cave, the Colonel was sure that he saw something gleaming far back in the darkness, and he thought that the bright spot must be one of the tiger’s eyes.

To be sure, unless it was a one-eyed tiger, he ought to see two bright spots, but he did not stop to consider this point, but took deliberate aim at the spot and fired.

Nothing happened. No tiger jumped out.

Then the Major fired, although he was not quite certain that he did see a shining spot. Still there was no sign of a tiger having been shot. Even if the beast had been fairly hit by either of the shots, it is likely that he would have made some disturbance inside the cave, for tigers are very hard to kill.

Several other shots were fired without effect, and the hunters came to the conclusion that there was no tiger in the cave.

OUT OF THE CAVE SPRANG AN ENORMOUS TIGER.

However, they consented to let the natives try a plan that they suggested. This was to smoke the tiger out of his hole. So great quantities of dried leaves and twigs were collected, and thrust into the mouth of the cave. While this work was going on, the men were very enthusiastic about it, and ran up with their arms full of leaves and sticks, seeming to entirely forget what a predicament they would be in if a tiger should be within, and if he should make up his mind to come out before they had finished their job.

When all was ready the dry stuff was fired, and very soon a great smoke arose, and as the wind blew towards the rocks, most of the smoke went into the cave.

In about three minutes a horrid growl was heard, and every darkey took to his heels, one of them making about five jumps towards a distant tree, up which he climbed like a monkey.

And they were none too quick. Out of the cave sprang an enormous tiger.

The two white men had their rifles to their shoulders in an instant, and they fired almost simultaneously. The tiger did not stop, however, but rushed on, apparently after one of the natives. But before he reached him the Colonel fired the second barrel of his rifle, and rolled the beast over. One or two more shots finished him.

This hunt was considered a great success, for the tiger was a very large one, and was no doubt, the murderer of the bullocks. The natives were delighted, and went to work to take off the skin, which was awarded to our Colonel, who had fired the decisive shot.

While in the cave the tiger had probably been lying behind some rocks, with only part of his head exposed. He had not cared to leave his entrenchments while they were firing at him, but he evidently did not like smoke.

The next time the Colonel and Major Alden went out after tigers they were on an elephant. They rode in a large wooden box on the elephant’s back, in which they could stand and fire without much fear of a tiger getting at them. They had wonderful success, for they came upon no less than five tigers, out in an open space. One of these was soon killed, and the others ran away in different directions, like enormous kittens.

But before they got entirely away another was shot dead, and two more, that ran behind some great rocks, were followed up, and killed before night.

But one very large one slipped off, growling savagely, into some reeds by the river bank, and was lost. This tiger was the largest and most dangerous of the lot, and the man who drove the elephant said he knew him very well.

He asserted that this tiger was a man-eater, as a tiger is called that has once killed a human being. Ever afterward, according to the native traditions, he has a strong liking for a man for dinner.

THEY CAME UPON NO LESS THAN FIVE TIGERS.

The driver said he had seen him kill a man, and that he knew him by his peculiar markings. Whether this story was true or not, it was evident that this was a very large and dangerous beast, and ought to be killed, if such a thing should prove possible.

So, a few days afterwards, a large hunt was organized, having for its object the destruction of this particular tiger. The party went out mounted on three elephants—two men in each howdah or box, and a driver on each elephant’s neck. Besides the riders, there were about fifty natives on foot, who went along to beat up the bushes and make themselves generally useful.

The Colonel and Major Alden were not together this time, but were on different elephants. Colonel Myles’ companion was a military man who was a very good shot and quite a noted tiger hunter. His name was Captain Harrison, and our friend was very glad to go with him, because he had the best elephants and was likely to see the best sport.

There is a very great difference in the elephants that are taken on tiger hunts. Some of them will get frightened and run away the moment they see or hear a tiger, and then the hunters on their backs have not much of a chance to get a shot at the beasts. But others will stand their ground bravely, and the elephant that carried the Colonel was said to be one of these.

They rode on, close to the river bank for many a mile under a dreadfully hot sun, and, a little after noon one of the men who had mounted a tall tree shouted out that he had seen the tiger among the reeds on the river bank not very far from the spot where our hunting party sat quietly on their elephants.

Stones were now thrown into the bushes and several shots were fired by the native hunters. But no tiger made his appearance. The thicket was full of thorns and was very dense, and there were other reasons for not entering it—one very good one.

So the shouting and the stone-throwing were continued, and that was about all that was done for fifteen or twenty minutes.

Then one of the followers, who had a gun, crept on his hands and knees to the edge of the thicket and peeped in under the bushes.

He looked all about and could see nothing, and then he cast his eyes to one side, and there lay the tiger not ten feet from him!

It is amazing how quickly he drew back, jumped up, and ran off at the top of his speed. As soon as he reached what he thought was a safe distance he turned and fired at the spot where he had seen the tiger.

And what was very astonishing indeed, he hit it.

Up jumped the beast in a rage, and in an instant he bounded out of the thicket into the open field.

He was all ready for a big fight, and he growled and gnashed his teeth in a way that would have made your blood run cold.

Every body leveled their guns at him, but he did not give them time to take a good aim, for he charged at headlong speed right for the foremost elephant. The animal on which the Colonel and his friend were mounted was a brave one, but he did not fancy such a tiger as this, and he turned to run away.

But he was not quick enough. The tiger bounded at him like a flash and had him by the trunk before he could lift it out of harm’s way.

The driver on the elephant’s neck drew up his legs in a hurry, and the hunters leaned over their box to try and get a shot. But the elephant’s head was in the way, and they could not get a fair sight at the tiger.

As for the poor elephant, he did not at all fancy having a tiger chewing away at his trunk. So he bellowed and floundered about at a great rate, but that did not seem to inconvenience the tiger, who held on like a good fellow.

The other elephants and hunters were coming up, but they did not come fast enough. The elephants seemed to be a little particular about their trunks, and were in no haste to get near the beast that was hanging so grimly to their big brother.

THE TIGER SEIZES THE ELEPHANT BY THE TRUNK.

Then our elephant got tired of this sport. He gave his trunk a swing under him at the same time that he made a step forward.

This brought the tiger just in front of his right foreleg.

Down knelt the elephant with one great knee directly upon the tiger’s body.

The elephant weighed tons, and there was a dead tiger under his knee in less than twenty seconds.

So here was a dangerous and noted tiger killed without a shot from the brave hunters who went out after him. But they were none the less brave for that.

The only man who did hit him was a coward, and the elephant that killed him, would have run away if he could. Things turn out this way sometimes.

I can only tell of one more of Colonel Myles’ hunts. He spent many months in India and killed a good many tigers, for which he had the thanks of the people and the approval of his own conscience—two things that hunters do not always have, I can assure you.

His last hunt, as far as we are concerned, was a bear hunt. He heard that a large bear had been seen a short distance from the place where he was then encamped, and early the next day after receiving the news, he went out with one native follower to see if he could find it. They followed the tracks of the beast until they reached a place where there were some very high rocks.

Mounting to the top of these they peeped over and saw, at the bottom of a ravine beneath, the mouth of a cave that appeared to extend under the rocks a short distance.

In this cave, lying with his head on his paws, they distinctly saw a large bear, fast asleep. He was, however, in such a position that it would be very hard to get a good shot at him.

The Colonel then thought of a plan to make him come out. To be sure they might have hurled stones at him or shouted, but in either case the bear might have been frightened and drawn himself into his cave, entirely out of sight, or he might have rushed up the rocks faster than they would like to have him come.

The Colonel wanted him to come out of his cave, but to stay down at the bottom of the ravine.

So he whispered to his man to unroll his long turban and to get out on the branches of a tree that overhung the mouth of the cave. Then he was to lower the turban down and tickle the bear’s nose.

The man did as he was told, and, as the turban was just long enough to reach the bear’s nose, he was able to tickle him nicely.

At first the bear just fidgeted a little and then he made a dab with his paw at the supposed fly that was worrying him.

But the turban continued to tickle him, and at last he woke up with a start. When he saw the turban hanging before him he made a snap at it, and then the man jerked it away.

THE BEAR GAVE THE TURBAN A VIGOROUS PULL.

Up jumped the bear, just like a cat after a handkerchief. He made a bound after the turban and seized it with his paws and teeth.

He jumped so suddenly and gave the turban such a vigorous pull that the man came very near being jerked out of the tree, which might have been bad for him, but our Colonel, who was ready with his rifle, fired and killed the bear instantly. He was a big fellow and had a splendid skin.

When the Colonel sailed for home he carried with him half a dozen bear and tiger skins. They were all fine ones, but the best of them, a magnificent skin that had once belonged to a very large and savage Bengal tiger, was a particular favorite with him, and he now has it on his library floor, just before the big grate where he sits and reads on winter evenings.

And yet he did not kill the tiger to which the skin belonged. He cannot point to it as an evidence of his bravery and skill in the jungles of India.

It is the skin of the tiger that the elephant killed with his knee.

A SUGAR CAMP.

When I was a boy I knew no more about a “sugar camp” than I knew of a molasses-candy fort.

THE SUGAR CAMP.

In fact I would probably have thought one as ridiculous as the other, if it had been mentioned to me.

This was because I did not live in a maple-sugar country. I had eaten maple-sugar, but I had no idea how it was made, and when I first saw a sugar-camp, out in the woods, I was both surprised and interested.

In the first place it was not a camp at all—according to my idea—for what the people at the farm-house where I was visiting, called the camp was a house—a very rough one, but still a house. I expected to find tents and big camp-fires under the trees. I found a fire, but it was in the house.

It was in February that I went out to the camp, and although there was still snow on the ground, the day was mild and pleasant.

The men were all at work when I arrived, and I wandered about, looking at everything and asking questions.

The camp was in the middle of a large grove of sugar-maple trees, and in each of the large trees a hole had been bored, and a little spout, made of a piece of elder wood, with the pith scooped out, had been inserted in each hole. Through these spouts the sap was dripping into pans and wooden troughs, placed at the foot of each tree.

As fast as these pans and troughs were filled they were taken to the house and emptied into boilers that were suspended over the fire. Here the sap boiled away at a great rate, and the men took turns in stirring it so that it should not burn.

I found that this sugar-making was quite a tedious operation, as the sap had to be boiled twice, and a great deal of care and time was spent upon it before it cooled down into the hard, light-brown maple sugar of which most boys and girls are so fond.

But I saw enough to make me understand the principles of the business.

I found that when the sap began to rise in the trees, in the early spring, there was always enough of it to supply the needs of the tree, and a good deal besides to supply the needs of the sugar-makers.

I watched all the processes, and tasted the sap when it first flowed from the tree and in all its different stages. And when I went back to the farm-house, early in the afternoon, I thought that it would be a great thing to have a grove of sugar-maples, and to be able to make one’s own sugar, and to be independent, in that respect at least, of the grocery-store.

I had not yet taken a meal at the farm-house, for I had arrived that day after breakfast, and had gone out to the camp soon afterward.

When supper-time came—and long before in fact—I was very hungry, having had but a lunch in the woods. And so I ate bravely of the good things that were so bountifully spread upon the table. But when I came to drink my tea, which was sweetened with maple-sugar, I did not like it. And the more I drank the less I cared to own a sugar-maple grove, and brighter and brighter became the visions of the grocery store, with its savory smells, and its great bins of sugar from the sugar-canes of Louisiana and Cuba.

When supper was over I had not finished my cup of tea, but I had changed my mind completely about the desirableness of owning a sugar-maple grove, and making one’s own sugar.

SILVER-PLATING.

The precious metals are gold, silver, and platinum. They are so called because they are rare and costly. Platinum is the most rare, and is used only to a very moderate extent. Gold is more plentiful; and silver much more abundant, though sufficiently rare to be considered a precious metal.

BATTERY FOR SILVER-PLATING.

We do not often hear of articles of table service of solid gold, though solid silver is comparatively common. But, with the help of electricity, skilled workmen are able to cover the cheaper metals with one or more coatings of gold or silver, and the articles thus treated, look like solid gold or silver.

A very small quantity of the precious metals will plate a large number of articles; but even with this small amount of gold, the gold-plated substances are too costly to be in general use; though it is quite common to line silver-plated articles with a thin plate of gold.

Exceedingly beautiful things are made of silver-plated ware, for table service especially, but it is also much used for ornaments, and even statues and statuettes are made of it, as well as a great variety of useful things.

As you are in the habit of seeing so many silver-plated articles I think you will be interested if I tell you, briefly, how the plating is done. But you will understand my description better if you know something about the galvanic battery, and the laws which govern its action, and if you have not studied this matter, any one of your acquaintance who possesses an electrical machine, will no doubt take pleasure in explaining it to you.

I am supposing you did not know before that the same agent which causes the lightning to flash from the clouds, puts the silver on your tea-spoons.

After the article to be silver-plated has been formed out of some cheap metal, or a metallic composition, it is thoroughly cleansed; for there must not be the very slightest taint of greasiness or dirt upon the surface. The method of cleaning depends upon the metal; some are burned in the fire, and some are purified with alkalies. They are next washed in acids, then scoured with sand or pumice stone, and washed, and brushed. They are now clean, and are dried in sawdust to avoid handling and soiling.

All of these operations have to be carefully done. They are generally performed by women.

They are then taken to the gilder to receive their deposit of metal, whether zinc, copper, gold, or silver.

Our articles, you know, are to be silver-plated. They are therefore placed in a fluid chemical mixture contained in a box of wood, stoneware, or some other non-metallic substance, which is called the bath.

Through the liquid contained in this bath, the electrical current is passed in this way. The wires of a galvanic battery are connected with two metal rods lying across the box. The things to be plated are hung by metal hooks to one of these rods—which communicates with the negative pole of the battery. To the other rod, which communicates with the positive pole of the battery, is hung a piece of silver. This completes the circuit, and the electrical fluid passes from pole to pole, going from the battery into the rods, and through the metallic hooks, and articles hung upon them, into the liquid. The silver on the positive side is dissolved by the electricity, and deposited in a thin layer upon the articles on the negative side.

It requires a perfect knowledge of the business to know just how to manage all these matters, so that the deposit shall leave an even surface. There are many little secrets, known only to manufacturers, which enable them to increase the beauty of the plating.

But the articles are not ready for use as soon as plated. A good deal is to be done to them in the way of brushing, polishing, and burnishing. And then they often have to be ornamented in plain designs, or with garlands of flowers, or sprays of leaves. Sometimes figures of men or animals are moulded upon them. Occasionally, for splendid objects of art, the leaves and flowers are colored their natural tints.

VERY ANCIENT ANIMALS.

If you boys never went on a “possum hunt” you have missed a good deal of fun. I really cannot tell which enjoys this hunt the most, men, or boys, or dogs. I think we can guess pretty well which enjoys it least—the opossum. If he gets safely off, though, as he does very often, I have no doubt he enjoys thinking over the chase, and laughs to himself at the way he outwitted dogs and men; for, of course, he would put the dogs first, as being of the greater importance in his eyes.

ANTEDILUVIAN OPOSSUM.

Moonlight nights are the times to hunt opossums. Where these animals go in the day-time I am sure I don’t know, but they roll themselves up in a ball, and sleep soundly somewhere, entirely out of the way of everybody. But, at night, they are awake and active, and look up their food.

And then it is that we look them up for food; and for the fun of the hunt. More for the fun, I am afraid, than the food; for we get plenty to eat without going after wild animals; whereas the poor opossum looks for his food because he is really hungry.

We start off, on some fine moonlight night, a party of men and boys. We are in high spirits, and laugh and talk, and have a good time. The dogs are in high spirits too, and run and frisk gaily about. But when we approach the woods we grow quiet and begin to look around expectantly. The dogs understand perfectly what business we are upon, and know that we rely upon them to “tree” the game. So they trot soberly on before us, turning to the right or left as their scent leads them.

Presently they come upon an opossum. The animal starts off on a fast run. Then follows a mad stampede of dogs, boys and men. No need now to keep quiet. We crash through bushes and briers. Finally the opossum, seeing that the dogs are gaining upon him, takes refuge in a tree. Up he goes, like a flash, to the very topmost branches, curls his tail and legs around a limb, tucks his head under the fur of his breast, hangs limp, and pretends to be dead.

He thinks now he is safe, but we know we have him sure. For we have axes with us, and we cut down the tree. The opossum makes no effort to get away while the noise of cutting and the shaking of the tree is going on. And when the tree comes down, Mr. “Possum” is ours.

His flesh tastes like young pig, only more tender and delicate.

But, you will say, this picture is not like our opossums. It does not seem very much like one at first sight, but, on looking closer, you will see several points of resemblance. Our opossum carries its young in a pouch sometimes, and sometimes on its back, and this one, you see, has its three cunning little young ones on its back, with their dear little tails curled lovingly around their mother’s big tail. It has a long prehensile tail, and long flexible feet, so that it can fasten itself to the branches of trees just as ours do. Its fur is pretty much the same. In some respects it is not like ours.

LABYRINTHODON.

There are no opossums now just like this one. This species lived before the flood; and is, therefore, antediluvian. The animal in the picture was never hunted by men and dogs, because neither men nor dogs existed in his days. I think it should make us feel a little ashamed, when we are chasing opossums, to think that their ancestors had possession of the world before ours.

If men had lived in those days they would have had some queer game. How would you like to hunt a Labyrinthodon?

This remarkable beast lived about the same time as the antediluvian opossum. Not a very agreeable acquaintance to meet face to face. A glance at his teeth would be sufficient to make one’s hair stand on end. How awful he must have looked with his mouth open! I think he would have made but two mouthfuls of the Cardiff giant if he had had a bite at him before he turned into stone.

ANOPLOTHERIUM.

Do you notice the strange way his teeth are placed, working in and out of each other? This suggests a labyrinth, and hence his name, Labyrinthodon.

You may not recognise him as a toad, but such he was, and was as big as an ox.

So the toad in the fable, which, you remember, attempted to swell himself to the size of an ox, and came to grief thereby, was only trying to make himself such as his forefathers had been.

The opossum was about the best-looking animal on the earth in those days. The rest were nearly all frightful monsters. There was the Ichthyosaurus, a great fish-lizard, thirty feet long, and ten times more dreadful than the present crocodiles. Then there was the Plesiosaurus, which had the body and feet of a turtle, only many times larger, a short stumpy tail, and a neck like a serpent, thirty feet long. And the Pterodactyls, like huge bats, with birds’ heads, and very long bills.

After this race of animals died off there appeared upon the earth a better-looking set. But these, too, all died long before the deluge, and we have none of them now.

One of these, the Anoplotherium, is supposed to have been something like our otter, but it was much larger; and I don’t think, myself from the pictures we have of him, that the likeness is very strong.

ITURIM, AND HIS FORTUNES.

The Antis Indians live in the mountainous districts of Peru. They have a proverb: “From happiness to misfortune is only a flea-leap.”

Iturim proved the truth of this very early in life. He was a young Antis who had been so successful in his various journeys to the cities on the coast, where he sold apes and birds, that he was able to build and furnish a fine house; to adorn his person bravely; and to take a wife.

This lucky fellow did not even have to make a clearing in the woods for his house. He found in the forest, just in the right place, an open space, containing only a small grove of palms. These graceful trees would make a pleasant shade for his dwelling, and the forest was sufficiently distant not to make it close and hot.

If this clearing had been upon the bank of the river it would not have answered his purpose. For the Antis always make the clearings for their dwellings at a little distance from a water-course, taking care to have a thick growth between them and a river. Otherwise Indians who are not friendly to them would see the houses while paddling by in their canoes, and seize upon the first opportunity to steal everything they contained.

Iturim’s house, or ajoupa, as he called it, was very large, because he owned so much property. Stakes were driven into the ground for supports to a long, sloping roof, thatched with straw. The sides were made of mud, hardened in the sun. He had a large assortment of pots, pans, kettles, knives, &c., that he had brought up from the coast from time to time. He made a net-work of strong vine stalks near the roof, on which to hang provisions. Otherwise the ants which were sure to invade the premises would make sad havoc with the eatables. On the earthen floor he spread beautifully prepared tapir skins. There was not so handsome a residence in all the Antis region.

THE PALM GROVE.

For his personal adornment, he had tattooed his face with three dotted blue lines across each cheek, and a purple star in his forehead. He dressed partly in the European style, having learned this on the coast. His trowsers were of blue cotton, and his jacket of red cotton; on state occasions, he wore a long scarf cloak of white cotton about him, and put a conical cap on his head. I must not forget what he considered the most elegant part of his toilette—a small plate of highly polished silver, which hung from his nose. He daubed patches of red and black paint on his face, and thus attired, he went for his wife. She was slightly tattooed on her forehead and chin in blue and red plaids. Usually she was dressed in a long white sacque, but, on this occasion she wore a full skirt of white with a gay scarf wound around her shoulders. Her ornaments were colored seeds, and tapirs’ claws. She also put on a conical cap that Iturim had given her, ignorant of the fact that it was not a proper head-dress for a woman.

Miniqui, the bride, lived on the opposite side of the river from the palm grove; and, after the wedding feast, Iturim conducted her to her new home.

They crossed the river on a rude suspension bridge, made of osiers; and you may be sure Miniqui was pleased with the large, sumptuously furnished house she found in the palm grove. They were welcomed by a large pet ape, named Simuco. He was a very wise creature, and devotedly attached to his master.

For a short time all three lived together in the happiest manner. Iturim hunted and fished; Miniqui did the housework; and Simuco amused them both with his funny tricks.

But a tribe of Antis came up from the lower river, and challenged the Upper Antis to a canoe race. The elderly men were in favor of declining the challenge; but the younger ones, at the head of whom was Iturim, were eager for the contest; and so it was determined upon.

CROSSING THE SWING-BRIDGE OF OSIERS.

The rivers in the Antis country are mountain torrents. Even in the places where the water seems to flow smoothly there are strong under-currents that call for a great degree of skill in navigation. And every few miles, the rivers dash over rocks, and form dangerous rapids. The Indians are very expert in managing their canoes in this kind of boating, which is called “shooting the rapids;” but with all their skill and practice, they cannot help fatal accidents occurring quite frequently. The mere upsetting of a boat is nothing, for the Antis is almost as much at home in the water as on the land; but it is impossible to swim in the whirling waters of the rapids, and the danger consists in being dashed against the rocks, or violently sucked under the waves.

The prize, to be given to the man who should first reach the goal in this race was one of those ingenious pocket knives that contain a number of tools in a small compass.

These savages had never seen anything like it until now when one was displayed; and to their ambition to distinguish themselves, was added a keen desire to possess this treasure.

The race was three miles long, and there were two rapids to “shoot.” The second one was very dangerous, and was full of jagged rocks. At some distance below this rapid the women and children of the two tribes assembled to watch the boats rush over the fall, and to see them come up to the goal. With them were the few men who did not join in the sport. There were eight canoes, with three men in each. One of these men was the leader; and it was his business to guide the boat with a paddle safely and swiftly through the rapids. These eight leaders were the candidates for the prize. The one whose boat first touched the beach at Toucan Point was to have the knife. It was the duty of the other men to row the boats until they approached the rapids. It seems to me that these men were also entitled to a prize; for, of course, the boats that first reached the rapids were most likely to win; and on the calm stretches of the river everything depended upon the skill of the rowers. But the Antis have their own rules for boat racing.

It was a pretty sight to see the eight light, gracefully-pointed canoes abreast, at the start. But nobody was there to witness it, unless we allow Simuco, the monkey, to be a person. He sat upon the bank, and gravely watched the scene. What he thought of it I don’t know, but he perfectly understood that he was not to be of the party. He made no attempt to enter any of the boats, but as soon as the signal was given, and the canoes started off, he darted off also, running swiftly along the shore, or scrambling over rocks.

Where the boats started the river widened into a sort of lake, but it soon became too narrow for the boats to keep abreast. The Indians knew this, but they knew that they would not long keep abreast in any case. Before the first mile was passed the boats were much scattered. Four canoes went over the first rapid side by side. Two of them were so close that they came near crashing together, and their leaders yelled and scolded at each other furiously. One of these was Iturim, and the other a young man of the lower Antis, Altisquo. But the four canoes went over together, and swept into the calmer water with their bows in a straight line with each other.

During the next mile and a half of quiet water two of these canoes fell back, and were passed by some that had come over the rapid more slowly. The rowers of Iturim and Altisquo kept an even stroke with their oars. Occasionally a boat would pass them, but would soon give out, and the two canoes were still side by side when the last, and most dangerous rapid came in sight.

The rowers drew in their oars. Their task was done. Iturim and Altisquo stood each in the stern of his boat, and dexterously guided their frail crafts among the black rocks, turning aside from the whirling eddies that threatened to suck them in. Each was anxious to be the first to reach the narrowest and most perilous part of the voyage.

THE BOAT RACE.

Iturim shot into this vortex of waters more than a boat’s length ahead of Altisquo. It was impossible now for the latter to pass him. The prize was virtually won. Iturim was full of joy, though the spray from the waves wet him from head to foot, and his canoe often grated against the rocks, or was tossed from side to side.

Altisquo saw that the swift rush of waters would now bear his rival over the fall before he could hope to overtake him; and his heart was filled with rage and hate. Suddenly an opportunity presented itself to him. His quick eye saw that he had one chance more. It was a wicked chance, but that did not matter to him. To the left of Iturim’s boat was a whirlpool. The waters swirled furiously around a rock, throwing up blinding sheets of spray. By a sudden movement Altisquo turned the stern of his boat around at the risk of breaking it against the rocks. This brought him into swift collision with the stern of Iturim’s boat, and turned the latter violently around towards the whirlpool, while his own canoe swung into the current, and rushed over the fall, stern foremost. It spun around two or three times after this fearful leap, then darted off bow foremost, and Altisquo was the first man who beached his boat at Toucan Point.

Fortunately Iturim’s boat was not quite as near the whirlpool as Altisquo supposed, and did not get drawn into it, as he had hoped. The shock it received sent it violently over the fall, dashing it against a rock, where it was broken to pieces, and the two rowers tumbled out. But they were in comparatively still water, and succeeded in swimming to the shore.

But, as Iturim was standing in the stern when the collision took place, he was thrown out of the boat with such violence that he fell into the whirlpool. He clutched fast hold of a projecting rock, but the waters were too strong for him. He could not drag himself out by the slippery rocks, and he would certainly have been sucked under and drowned, but for Simuco. The ape had reached the lower rapid before the boats, and was watching the scene with a lively interest when the fatal collision occurred. He comprehended at once his master’s situation, and, springing quickly from rock to rock, seized Iturim by the hair, and held him with so firm a grip that he was enabled with some difficulty to scramble upon the rock, and was taken off by a boat.

The leaders, who were steering the two boats not far behind Altisquo, were too much occupied in making their own way through the dangerous pass to observe closely what had been done. But the four rowers of these canoes were not deceived by Altisquo’s quick movements. They saw very clearly how unfairly he had won the race, and the spectators suspected foul play from what they could observe of his manœuvres. After hearing all the testimony, the judges awarded the prize to Iturim. He had, virtually, won the race before the accident, and, as this was the result of a malicious assault, and not brought about by his own carelessness, it was decreed that the marvelous tool-knife should be his.

But alas for Iturim’s fine clothes! He had arrayed himself in his very best European costume in order to show off before the strangers, and now he was clad in rags. Simuco had snatched the high-pointed cap from the waves, and put it again on his master’s head, but its ambitious peak hung down, limp and forlorn. Iturim was rather crestfallen, at first, at the ridiculous figure he cut. He certainly did not look like a hero. But the knife consoled him, and he was in a jolly humor when he walked home with his prize in his pocket, and his faithful ape perched upon his shoulder.

This was at the end of the day, after a great feast in honor of his victory, in which both tribes of Antis had joined. The Lower Antis had bidden farewell, however, some time before, and were now on their way back to their own country.

Miniqui had left the river with the women and children, and had gone home before Iturim. What was his surprise then when he met her in the woods some distance from the house. She came flying towards him, with her arms outstretched, and shrieking as she ran.