THE ANIMALS ENTER THE ARK.

FRONTISPIECE—"STORY OF THE BIBLE ANIMALS."

Story
OF THE
Bible Animals

A Description of the
Habits and Uses of every living
Creature mentioned in the Scriptures,

WITH

Explanation of Passages in the Old and New Testament in
which reference is made to them.

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BY
J. G. WOOD,

AUTHOR OF "HOMES WITHOUT HANDS,"
"THE ILLUSTRATED NATURAL HISTORY," ETC.

300 ILLUSTRATIONS.

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PUBLISHED AT THE OFFICE OF
CHARLES FOSTER'S PUBLICATIONS,
No. 118 South Seventh Street,
PHILADELPHIA, PA.

WAR-HORSES AND ANCIENT EGYPTIAN CHARIOT.

See page 307.

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Copyright, 1888, by W. A. Foster.

PREFACE.

Owing to the different conditions of time, language, country, and race under which the various books of the Holy Scriptures were written, it is impossible that they should be rightly understood at the present day without some study of the customs and manners of Eastern peoples, as well as of the countries in which they lived.

The Oriental character of the scriptural writings causes them to abound with metaphors and symbols taken from the common life of the time.

They contain allusions to the trees, flowers, and herbage, the creeping things of the earth, the fishes of the sea, the birds of the air, and the beasts which abode with man or dwelt in the deserts and forests.

Unless, therefore, we understand these writings as those understood them for whom they were written, it is evident that we shall misinterpret instead of rightly comprehending them.

The field which is laid open to us is so large that only one department of Natural History—namely, Zoology—can be treated in this work, although it is illustrated by many references to other branches of Natural History, to the physical geography of Palestine, Egypt, and Syria, the race-character of the inhabitants, and historical parallels.

The importance of understanding the nature, habits, and uses of the animals which are constantly mentioned in the Bible, cannot be overrated as a means of elucidating the Scriptures, and without this knowledge we shall not only miss the point of innumerable passages of the Old and New Testaments, but the words of our Lord Himself will often be totally misinterpreted, or at least lose part of their significance.

The object of the present work is therefore, to take in its proper succession, every creature whose name is given in the Scriptures, and to supply so much of its history as will enable the reader to understand all the passages in which it is mentioned.

SHEPHERD LEADING SHEEP AND GOATS TO THEIR FOLD IN THE ROCK.

See page 191.

THE AUTHOR.

The Rev. J. G. Wood is a native of London, England. He was educated at Oxford University, and has long been known, both in England and America, as not only a learned and accurate writer on Natural History, but a popular one as well, having the happy faculty of making the results of scientific study and painstaking observation, interesting and instructive to all classes of readers.

He has published a number of works on the most familiar departments of the history of animals, designed to awaken popular interest in the study. Their titles are "Sketches and Anecdotes of Animal Life;" "Common Objects of the Seashore and Country;" "My Feathered Friends;" "Homes Without Hands"—being a description of the habitations of animals,—and the "Illustrated Natural History," a book which is widely known both in England and America as a standard work of great value. It has given the author celebrity, and has caused him to be considered an eminent authority on the subject which it treats.

It is evident, from these facts, that it would be difficult to find a man better qualified than Mr. Wood, to write a book describing the animals mentioned in the Bible.

Profoundly impressed with the ignorance which prevails towards so important a feature of the Scriptural Narrative, he has devoted his ripe powers and special knowledge to the work of dissipating it, and in this volume, not only fully describes the nature and habits of all the animals mentioned in the Scriptures, but tells the story of their relations to mankind.

Mr. Wood is a clergyman of the Church of England, and was for a time connected with Christ Church, Oxford. He has devoted himself mainly, however, to authorship in the field which he has chosen, and in which he has become so well known. In his works he usually employs a popular style of writing, and does not make scientific terms prominent. This is especially true of the "Story of the Bible Animals," which from its easy and interesting character is adapted to the comprehension of young and old.

Many of the pictures in this book are taken from the living animals, or from photographs and sketches by Eastern travellers.

Others represent imaginary scenes, or ancient historical events, and have been designed by skilful artists after careful study of the subjects.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

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[A complete Index of Subjects will be found at the end of this Volume.]

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STORY OF THE BIBLE ANIMALS.

THE LION.

Frequent mention of the Lion in the Scriptures—The Lion employed as an emblem in the Bible—Similarity of the African and Asiatic species—The chief characteristics of the Lion—its strength, activity, and mode of seizing its prey—The Lion hunt.

Of all the undomesticated animals of Palestine, none is mentioned so frequently as the Lion. This may appear the more remarkable, because for many years the Lion has been extinct in Palestine. The leopard, the wolf, the jackal, and the hyæna, still retain their place in the land, although their numbers are comparatively few; but the Lion has vanished completely out of the land. The reason for this disappearance is twofold, first, the thicker population; and second, the introduction of firearms.

No animal is less tolerant of human society than the Lion. In the first place, it dreads the very face of man, and as a rule, whenever it sees a man will slink away and hide itself. There are, of course, exceptional cases to this rule. Sometimes a Lion becomes so old and stiff, his teeth are so worn, and his endurance so slight, that he is unable to chase his usual prey, and is obliged to seek for other means of subsistence. In an unpopulated district, he would simply be starved to death, but when his lot is cast in the neighbourhood of human beings, he is perforce obliged to become a "man-eater." Even in that case, a Lion will seldom attack a man, unless he should be able to do so unseen, but will hang about the villages, pouncing on the women as they come to the wells for water, or upon the little children as they stray from their parents, and continually shifting his quarters lest he should be assailed during his sleep. The Lion requires a very large tract of country for his maintenance, and the consequence is, that in proportion as the land is populated does the number of Lions decrease.

Firearms are the special dread of the Lion. In the first place, the Lion, like all wild beasts, cannot endure fire, and the flash of the gun terrifies him greatly. Then, there is the report, surpassing even his roar in resonance; and lastly, there is the unseen bullet, which seldom kills him at once, but mostly drives him to furious anger by the pain of his wound, yet which he does not dread nearly so much as the harmless flash and report. There is another cause of the Lion's banishment from the Holy Land. It is well known that to attract any wild beast or bird to some definite spot, all that is required is to provide them with a suitable and undisturbed home, and a certainty of food. Consequently, the surest method of driving them away is to deprive them of both these essentials. Then the Lion used to live in forests, which formerly stretched over large tracts of ground, but which have long since been cut down, thus depriving the Lion of its home, while the thick population and the general use of firearms have deprived him of his food. In fact, the Lion has been driven out of Palestine, just as the wolf has been extirpated from England.

But, in the olden times, Lions must have been very plentiful. There is scarcely a book in the Bible, whether of the Old or New Testaments, whether historical or prophetical, that does not contain some mention of this terrible animal; sometimes describing the actions of individual Lions, but mostly using the word as an emblem of strength and force, whether used for a good purpose or abused for a bad one.

LION DRINKING AT A POOL.

A LION KILLS THE PROPHET FROM JUDAH.

There are several varieties of Lion, which may be reduced to two, namely, the African and the Asiatic Lion. It is almost certain, however, that these animals really are one and the same species, and that the trifling differences which exist between an African and an Asiatic Lion, are not sufficient to justify a naturalist in considering them to be distinct species. The habits of both are identical, modified, as is sure to be the case, by the difference of locality; but then, such variations in habit are continually seen in animals confessedly of the same species, which happen to be placed in different conditions of climate and locality.

That it was once exceedingly plentiful in Palestine is evident, from a very cursory knowledge of the Holy Scriptures. It is every where mentioned as a well-known animal, equally familiar and dreaded. When the disobedient prophet was killed by the Lion near Bethel, the fact seemed not to have caused any surprise in the neighbourhood. When the people came out to rescue the body of the prophet, they wondered much because the Lion was standing by the fallen man, but had not torn him, and had left the ass unhurt. But that a Lion should have killed a man seems to have been an event which was not sufficiently rare to be surprising.

We will now proceed to those characteristics of the Lion which bear especial reference to the Scriptures.

In the first place, size for size, the Lion is one of the strongest of beasts.

LION AND TIGER.

Moreover, the strength of the Lion is equally distributed over the body and limbs, giving to the animal an easy grace of movement which is rare except with such a structure. A full-grown Lion cannot only knock down and kill, but can carry away in its mouth, an ordinary ox; and one of these terrible animals has been known to pick up a heifer in its mouth, and to leap over a wide ditch still carrying its burden. Another Lion carried a two-year old heifer, and was chased for five hours by mounted farmers, so that it must have traversed a very considerable distance. Yet, in the whole of this long journey, the legs of the heifer had only two or three times touched the ground.

It kills man, and comparatively small animals, such as deer and antelopes, with a blow of its terrible paw; and often needs to give no second blow to cause the death of its victim. The sharp talons are not needed to cause death, for the weight of the blow is sufficient for that purpose.

When the hunter pursues it with dogs, after the usual fashion, there is often a great slaughter among them, especially among those that are inexperienced in the chase of the Lion. Urged by their instinctive antipathy, the dogs rush forward to the spot where the Lion awaits them, and old hounds bay at him from a safe distance, while the young and inexperienced among them are apt to convert the sham attack into a real one. Their valour meets with a poor reward, for a few blows from the Lion's terrible paws send his assailants flying in all directions, their bodies streaming with blood, and in most cases a fatal damage inflicted, while more than one unfortunate dog lies fairly crushed by the weight of a paw laid with apparent carelessness upon its body. There is before me a Lion's skin, a spoil of one of these animals shot by the celebrated sportsman, Gordon Cumming. Although the skin lies flat upon the floor, and the paws are nothing but the skin and talons, the weight of each paw is very considerable, and always surprises those who hear it fall on the floor.

There are several Hebrew words which are used for the Lion, but that which signifies the animal in its adult state is derived from an Arabic word signifying strength; and therefore the Lion is called the Strong-one, just as the Bat is called the Night-flier. No epithet could be better deserved, for the Lion seems to be a very incarnation of strength, and, even when dead, gives as vivid an idea of concentrated power as when it was living. And, when the skin is stripped from the body, the tremendous muscular development never fails to create a sensation of awe. The muscles of the limbs, themselves so hard as to blunt the keen-edged knives employed by a dissecter, are enveloped in their glittering sheaths, playing upon each other like well-oiled machinery, and terminating in tendons seemingly strong as steel, and nearly as impervious to the knife. Not until the skin is removed can any one form a conception of the enormously powerful muscles of the neck, which enable the Lion to lift the weighty prey which it kills, and to convey it to a place of security.

THE LION REPLIES TO THE THUNDER.

Although usually unwilling to attack an armed man, it is one of the most courageous animals in existence when it is driven to fight, and if its anger is excited, it cares little for the number of its foes, or the weapons with which they are armed. Even the dreaded firearms lose their terrors to an angry Lion, while a Lioness, who fears for the safety of her young, is simply the most terrible animal in existence. We know how even a hen will fight for her chickens, and how she has been known to beat off the fox and the hawk by the reckless fury of her attack. It may be easily imagined, therefore, that a Lioness actuated by equal courage, and possessed of the terrible weapons given to her by her Creator, would be an animal almost too formidable for the conception of those who have not actually witnessed the scene of a Lioness defending her little ones.

The roar of the Lion is another of the characteristics for which it is celebrated. There is no beast that can produce a sound that could for a moment be mistaken for the roar of the Lion. The Lion has a habit of stooping his head towards the ground when he roars, so that the terrible sound rolls along like thunder, and reverberates in many an echo in the far distance. Owing to this curious habit, the roar can be heard at a very great distance, but its locality is rendered uncertain, and it is often difficult to be quite sure whether the Lion is to the right or the left of the hearer.

There are few sounds which strike more awe than the Lion's roar. Even at the Zoological Gardens, where the hearer knows that he is in perfect safety, and where the Lion is enclosed in a small cage faced with strong iron bars, the sound of the terrible roar always has a curious effect upon the nerves. It is not exactly fear, because the hearer knows that he is safe; but it is somewhat akin to the feeling of mixed awe and admiration with which one listens to the crashing thunder after the lightning has sped its course. If such be the case when the Lion is safely housed in a cage, and is moreover so tame that even if he did escape, he would be led back by the keeper without doing any harm, the effect of the roar must indeed be terrific when the Lion is at liberty, when he is in his own country, and when the shades of evening prevent him from being seen even at a short distance.

LIONESS AND YOUNG.

In the dark, there is no animal so invisible as a Lion. Almost every hunter has told a similar story—of the Lion's approach at night, of the terror displayed by dogs and cattle as he drew near, and of the utter inability to see him, though he was so close that they could hear his breathing. Sometimes, when he has crept near an encampment, or close to a cattle inclosure, he does not proceed any farther lest he should venture within the radius illumined by the rays of the fire. So he crouches closely to the ground, and, in the semi-darkness, looks so like a large stone, or a little hillock, that any one might pass close to it without perceiving its real nature. This gives the opportunity for which the Lion has been watching, and in a moment he strikes down the careless straggler, and carries off his prey to the den. Sometimes, when very much excited, he accompanies the charge with a roar, but, as a general fact, he secures his prey in silence.

The roar of the Lion is very peculiar. It is not a mere outburst of sound, but a curiously graduated performance. No description of the Lion's roar is so vivid, so true, and so graphic as that of Gordon Cumming: "One of the most striking things connected with the Lion is his voice, which is extremely grand and peculiarly striking. It consists at times of a low, deep moaning, repeated five or six times, ending in faintly audible sighs. At other times he startles the forest with loud, deep-toned, solemn roars, repeated five or six times in quick succession, each increasing in loudness to the third or fourth, when his voice dies away in five or six low, muffled sounds, very much resembling distant thunder. As a general rule, Lions roar during the night, their sighing moans commencing as the shades of evening envelop the forest, and continuing at intervals throughout the night. In distant and secluded regions, however, I have constantly heard them roaring loudly as late as nine or ten o'clock on a bright sunny morning. In hazy and rainy weather they are to be heard at every hour in the day, but their roar is subdued."

Lastly, we come to the dwelling-place of the Lion. This animal always fixes its residence in the depths of some forest, through which it threads its stealthy way with admirable certainty. No fox knows every hedgerow, ditch, drain, and covert better than the Lion knows the whole country around his den. Each Lion seems to have his peculiar district, in which only himself and his family will be found. These animals seem to parcel out the neighbourhood among themselves by a tacit law like that which the dogs of eastern countries have imposed upon themselves, and which forbids them to go out of the district in which they were born. During the night he traverses his dominions; and, as a rule, he retires to his den as soon as the sun is fairly above the horizon. Sometimes he will be in wait for prey in the broadest daylight, but his ordinary habits are nocturnal, and in the daytime he is usually asleep in his secret dwelling-place.

We will now glance at a few of the passages in which the Lion is mentioned in the Holy Scriptures, selecting those which treat of its various characteristics.

The terrible strength of the Lion is the subject of repeated reference. In the magnificent series of prophecies uttered by Jacob on his deathbed, the power of the princely tribe of Judah is predicted under the metaphor of a Lion—the beginning of its power as a Lion's whelp, the fulness of its strength as an adult Lion, and its matured establishment in power as the old Lion that couches himself and none dares to disturb him. Then Solomon, in the Proverbs, speaks of the Lion as the "strongest among beasts, and that turneth not away for any."

Solomon also alludes to its courage in the same book, Prov. xxviii. 1, in the well-known passage, "The wicked fleeth when no man pursueth: but the righteous are bold as a lion." And, in 2 Sam. xxiii. 20, the courage of Benaiah, one of the mighty three of David's army, is specially honoured, because he fought and killed a Lion single-handed, and because he conquered "two lion-like men of Moab." David, their leader, had also distinguished himself, when a mere keeper of cattle, by pursuing and killing a Lion that had come to plunder his herd. In the same book of Samuel which has just been quoted (xvii. 10), the valiant men are metaphorically described as having the hearts of Lions.

The ferocity of this terrible beast of prey is repeatedly mentioned, and the Psalms are full of such allusions, the fury and anger of enemies being compared to the attacks of the Lion.

Many passages refer to the Lion's roar, and it is remarkable that the Hebrew language contains several words by which the different kind of roar is described. One word, for example, represents the low, deep, thunder-like roar of the Lion seeking its prey, and which has already been mentioned. This is the word which is used in Amos iii. 4, "Will a lion roar in the forest when he hath no prey?" and in this passage the word which is translated as Lion signifies the animal when full grown and in the prime of life. Another word is used to signify the sudden exulting cry of the Lion as it leaps upon its victim. A third is used for the angry growl with which a Lion resents any endeavour to deprive it of its prey, a sound with which we are all familiar, on a miniature scale, when we hear a cat growling over a mouse which she has just caught. The fourth term signifies the peculiar roar uttered by the young Lion after it has ceased to be a cub and before it has attained maturity. This last term is employed in Jer. li. 38, "They shall roar together like lions; they shall yell as lions' whelps," in which passage two distinct words are used, one signifying the roar of the Lion when searching after prey, and the other the cry of the young Lions.

The prophet Amos, who in his capacity of herdsman was familiar with the wild beasts, from which he had to guard his cattle, makes frequent mention of the Lion, and does so with a force and vigour that betoken practical experience. How powerful is this imagery, "The lion hath roared; who will not fear? The Lord God hath spoken; who can but prophesy?" Here we have the picture of the man himself, the herdsman and prophet, who had trembled many a night, as the Lions drew nearer and nearer; and who heard the voice of the Lord, and his lips poured out prophecy. Nothing can be more complete than the parallel which he has drawn. It breathes the very spirit of piety, and may bear comparison even with the prophecies of Isaiah for its simple grandeur.

It is remarkable how the sacred writers have entered into the spirit of the world around them, and how closely they observed the minutest details even in the lives of the brute beasts. There is a powerful passage in the book of Job, iv. 11, "The old lion perisheth for lack of prey," in which the writer betrays his thorough knowledge of the habits of the animal, and is aware that the usual mode of a Lion's death is through hunger, in consequence of his increasing inability to catch prey.

The nocturnal habits of the Lion and its custom of lying in wait for prey are often mentioned in the Scriptures. The former habit is spoken of in that familiar and beautiful passage in the Psalms (civ. 20), "Thou makest darkness, and it is night; wherein all the beasts of the forest do creep forth. The young Lions roar after their prey; and seek their meat from God. The sun ariseth, they gather themselves together, and lay them down in their dens."

LION CARRYING HOME SUPPLIES.

An animal so destructive among the flocks and herds could not be allowed to carry out its depredations unchecked, and as we have already seen, the warfare waged against it has been so successful, that the Lions have long ago been fairly extirpated in Palestine. The usual method of capturing or killing the Lion was by pitfalls or nets, to both of which there are many references in the Scriptures.

The mode of hunting the Lion with nets was identical with that which is practised in India at the present time. The precise locality of the Lion's dwelling-place having been discovered, a circular wall of net is arranged round it, or if only a few nets can be obtained, they are set in a curved form, the concave side being towards the Lion. They then send dogs into the thicket, hurl stones and sticks at the den, shoot arrows into it, fling burning torches at it, and so irritate and alarm the animal that it rushes against the net, which is so made that it falls down and envelopes the animal in its folds. If the nets be few, the drivers go to the opposite side of the den, and induce the Lion to escape in the direction where he sees no foes, but where he is sure to run against the treacherous net. Other large and dangerous animals were also captured by the same means.

AFRICAN LIONS.

Another and more common, because an easier and a cheaper method was, by digging a deep pit, covering the mouth with a slight covering of sticks and earth, and driving the animal upon the treacherous covering. It is an easier method than the net, because after the pit is once dug, the only trouble lies in throwing the covering over its mouth. But, it is not so well adapted for taking beasts alive, as they are likely to be damaged, either by the fall into the pit, or by the means used in getting them out again. Animals, therefore, that are caught in pits are generally, though not always, killed before they are taken out. The net, however, envelops the animal so perfectly, and renders it so helpless, that it can be easily bound and taken away. The hunting net is very expensive, and requires a large staff of men to work it, so that none but a rich man could use it in hunting.

The passages in which allusion is made to the use of the pitfall in hunting are too numerous to be quoted, and it will be sufficient to mention one or two passages, such as those wherein the Psalmist laments that his enemies have hidden for him their net in a pit, and that the proud have digged pits for him.

Lions that were taken in nets seem to have been kept alive in dens, either as mere curiosities, or as instruments of royal vengeance. Such seems to have been the object of the Lions which were kept by Darius, into whose den Daniel was thrown, by royal command, and which afterwards killed his accusers when thrown into the same den. It is plain that the Lions kept by Darius must have been exceedingly numerous, because they killed at once the accusers of Daniel, who were many in number, together with their wives and children, who, in accordance with the cruel custom of that age and country, were partakers of the same punishment with the real culprits. The whole of the first part of Ezek. xix. alludes to the custom of taking Lions alive and keeping them in durance afterwards.

Sometimes the Lion was hunted as a sport, but this amusement seems to have been restricted to the great men, on account of its expensive nature. Such hunting scenes are graphically depicted in the famous Nineveh sculptures, which represent the hunters pursuing their mighty game in chariots, and destroying them with arrows. Rude, and even conventional as are these sculptures, they have a spirit, a force, and a truthfulness, that prove them to have been designed by artists to whom the scene was a familiar one.

THE LION ATTACKS THE HERD.

Upon the African Continent the Lion reigns supreme, monarch of the feline race.

Whatever may be said of the distinction between the Asiatic and African Lion, there seems to be scarcely sufficient grounds for considering the very slight differences a sufficient warrant for constituting separate species. From all accounts, it seems that the habits of all Lions are very similar, and that a Lion acts like a Lion whether found in Africa or Asia.

THE LAIR OF THE LION.

An old Boer, as the Dutch settlers of Southern Africa are called, gave me a most interesting account of an adventure with a Lion.

The man was a well-known hunter, and lived principally by the sale of ivory and skins. He was accustomed each year to make a trip into the game country, and traded with the Kaffirs, or native blacks, under very favorable auspices. His stock in trade consisted of guns and ammunition, several spans of fine oxen, some horses, and about a dozen dogs.

A Lion which appeared to have been roaming about the country happened to pass near this hunter's camp, and scenting the horses and oxen, evidently thought that the location would suit him for a short period. A dense wood situated about a mile from the camp afforded shelter, and this spot the Lion selected as a favorable position for his headquarters.

The hunter had not to wait for more than a day, before the suspicions which had been aroused by some broad footmarks, which he saw imprinted in the soil, were confirmed into a certainty that a large Lion was concealed near his residence.

It now became a question of policy whether the Boer should attack the Lion, or wait for the Lion to attack him. He thought it possible that the savage beast, having been warned off by the dogs, whose barking had been continued and furious during the night on which the Lion was supposed to have passed, might think discretion the better part of valor, and consequently would move farther on, in search of a less carefully guarded locality upon which to quarter himself. He determined, therefore, to wait, but to use every precaution against a night-surprise.

The Lion, however, was more than a match for the man; for during the second night a strong ox from his best span was quietly carried off, and, although there was some commotion among the dogs and cattle, it was then thought that the alarm had scared the Lion away.

The morning light, however, showed that the beast had leaped the fence which surrounded the camp, and, having killed the ox, had evidently endeavored to scramble over it again with the ox in his possession. The weight of the Lion and the ox had caused the stakes to give way, and the Lion had easily carried off his prey through the aperture.

The track of the Lion was immediately followed by the Boer, who took with him a negro and half a dozen of his best dogs. The tracks were easily seen, and the hunter had no difficulty in deciding that the Lion was in the wood previously mentioned. But this in itself was no great advance, for the place was overgrown with a dense thicket of thorn-bushes, creepers, and long grass, forming a jungle so thick and impenetrable that for a man to enter seemed almost impossible.

It was therefore agreed that the Boer should station himself on one side, while the negro went to the other side of the jungle, the dogs meanwhile being sent into the thicket.

This arrangement, it was hoped, would enable either the hunter or the negro to obtain a shot; for they concluded that the dogs, which were very courageous animals, would drive the Lion out of the bushes.

The excited barking of the dogs soon indicated that they had discovered the Lion, but they appeared to be unable to drive him from his stronghold; for, although they would scamper away every now and then, as though the enraged monster was chasing them, still they returned to bark at the same spot.

Both of the hunters fired several shots, with the hope that a stray bullet might find its way through the underwood to the heart of the savage beast, but a great quantity of ammunition was expended and no result achieved.

At length, as the dogs had almost ceased to bark, it was considered advisable to call them off. But all the whistling and shouting failed to recall more than two out of the six, and one of these was fearfully wounded. The others, it was afterwards found, had been killed by the Lion: a blow from his paw had sufficed to break the back or smash the skull of all which had come within his reach.

Thus the first attempt on the Lion was a total failure, and the hunter returned home lamenting the loss of his dogs, and during the night watched beside his enclosure; but the Lion did not pay him a second visit.

Early on the following evening, accompanied by the negro, he started afresh for the wood; and, having marked the spot from which the Lion had on the former occasion quitted the dense thorny jungle, the two hunters ascended a tree and watched during the whole night in the hope of obtaining a shot at the hated marauder. But while they were paying the residence of the Lion a visit he favored the camp with a call, and this time, by way of variety, carried away a very valuable horse, which he conveyed to the wood, being wise enough to walk out and to return by a different path from that he had previously used, consequently avoiding the ambush prepared for him.

When the hunter returned to his camp, he was furious at this new loss, and determined upon a plan which, though dangerous, still appeared the most likely to insure the destruction of the ravenous monster.

This plan was to enter the wood alone, without attendant or dogs, and with noiseless, stealthy movements creep near enough to the Lion to obtain a shot.

Now, when we consider the difficulty of moving through thick bushes without making a noise, and remember the watchful habits of every member of the cat tribe, we may be certain that to surprise the Lion was a matter of extreme difficulty, and that the probability was that the hunter would meet with disaster.

At about ten o'clock on the morning after the horse-slaughter, the hunter started for the wood armed with a double-barrelled smooth-bore gun, and prepared to put forth his utmost skill in stalking his dangerous enemy.

Now, it is the nature of the Lion, when gorged, to sleep during the day; and if the animal has carried off any prey, it usually conceals itself near the remnants of its feast, to watch them until ready for another meal.

The hunter was aware of this, and laid his plans very judiciously. He approached the wood slowly and silently, found the track of the Lion, and began tracing it to find the spot where the remains of the horse could be seen.

He moved forward very slowly and with great caution, being soon surrounded by the thick bushes, the brightness of the plain also being succeeded by the deep gloom of the wood. Being an experienced hand at bush-craft, he was able to walk or crawl without causing either a dried stick to crack or a leaf to rustle, and he was aware that his progress was without noise; for the small birds, usually so watchful and alert, flew away only when he approached close to them, thus showing that their eyes, and not their ears, had made them conscious of the presence of man.

Birds and monkeys are the great obstacles in the bush to the success of a surprise, for the birds fly from tree to tree and whistle or twitter, whilst the monkeys chatter and grimace, expressing by all sorts of actions that a strange creature is approaching. When, therefore, the bushranger finds that birds and monkeys are unconscious of his presence until they see him, he may be satisfied that he has traversed the bush with tolerable silence, and has vanquished such dangerous betrayers of his presence as dried sticks and dead leaves.

THE LION LISTENS TO THE APPROACH OF THE HUNTER.

The hunter had not proceeded thus more than fifty yards into the jungle, before he found indications that he was close upon the lair of the Lion: a strong leonine scent was noticeable, and part of the carcase of his horse was visible between the bushes. Instead, therefore, of advancing farther, as an incautious or inexperienced bushranger would have done, he crouched down behind a bush and remained motionless.

All animals are aware of the advantages of a surprise, and the cat tribe especially practise the ambuscading system. The hunter, therefore, determined, if possible, to turn the tables on the Lion, and to surprise, rather than to be surprised.

He concluded that the Lion, even when gorged with horseflesh, would not be so neglectful of his safety as to sleep with more than one eye closed, and that, although he had crept with great care through the bush, he had probably, from some slight sound, caused the Lion to be on the alert; if, therefore, he should approach the carcase of the horse, he might be pounced upon at once.

After remaining silent and watchful for several minutes, the hunter at length saw that an indistinctly-outlined object was moving behind some large broad-leafed plants at about twenty paces from him.

This object was the Lion. It was crouched behind some shrubs, attentively watching the bushes where the hunter was concealed. Its head only was clearly visible, the body being hidden by the foliage.

It was evident that the Lion was suspicious of something, but was not certain that anything had approached.

The hunter, knowing that this was a critical period for him, remained perfectly quiet. He did not like to risk a shot at the forehead of the Lion, for it would require a very sure aim to insure a death-wound, and the number of twigs and branches would be almost certain to deflect the bullet.

The Lion, after a careful inspection, appeared to be satisfied, and laid down behind the shrubs. The hunter then cocked both barrels of his heavy gun and turned the muzzle slowly around, so that he covered the spot on which the Lion lay, and shifted his position so as to be well placed for a shot.

The slight noise he made in moving, attracted the attention of the Lion, who immediately rose to his feet. A broadside shot, which was the most sure, could not be obtained, so the hunter fired at the head of the animal, aiming for a spot between the eyes. The ball struck high, as is usually the case when the distance is short, and the charge of powder heavy, but the Lion fell over on its back, rising, however, almost immediately and uttering a terrific roar.

In regaining its feet it turned its side to the hunter, giving him the opportunity he had so anxiously waited for. Aiming at a spot behind the shoulder, he fired again, and had the satisfaction of seeing the savage beast, maddened by the pain of a mortal wound, tearing up the ground in its fury within a very few paces of his hiding-place.

By degrees its fierce roars subsided into angry growls, and the growls into heavy moans, until the terrible voice was hushed and silence reigned throughout the wood.

The hunter immediately started off home, and brought his negroes and dogs to the spot, where they found stretched dead upon the ground a Lion of the largest size.

Before sunset that evening its skin was pegged down at the hunter's camp, and all were filled with delight, knowing that they would be no more disturbed by the fierce marauder.

THE LEOPARD.

The Leopard not often mentioned in the Scriptures—its attributes exactly described—Probability that several animals were classed under the name—How the Leopard takes its prey—Craft of the Leopard—its ravages among the flocks—The empire of man over the beast—The Leopard at Bay—Localities wherein the Leopard lives—The skin of the Leopard—Various passages of Scripture explained.

Of the Leopard but little is said in the Holy Scriptures.

In the New Testament this animal is only mentioned once, and then in a metaphorical rather than a literal sense. In the Old Testament it is casually mentioned seven times, and only in two places is the word Leopard used in the strictly literal sense. Yet, in those brief passages of Holy Writ, the various attributes of the animal are delineated with such fidelity, that no one could doubt that the Leopard was familiarly known in Palestine. Its colour, its swiftness, its craft, its ferocity, and the nature of its dwelling-place, are all touched upon in a few short sentences scattered throughout the Old Testament, and even its peculiar habits are alluded to in a manner that proves it to have been well known at the time when the words were written.

It is my purpose in the following pages to give a brief account of the Leopard of the Scriptures, laying most stress on the qualities to which allusion is made, and then to explain the passages in which the name of the animal occurs.

In the first place, it is probable that under the word Leopard are comprehended three animals, two of which, at least, were thought to be one species until the time of Cuvier. These three animals are the Leopard proper (Leopardus varius), the Ounce (Leopardus uncia), and the Chetah, or Hunting Leopard (Gueparda jubata). All these three species belong to the same family of animals; all are spotted and similar in colour, all are nearly alike in shape, and all are inhabitants of Asia, while two of them, the Leopard and the Chetah, are also found in Africa.

It is scarcely necessary to mention that the Leopard is a beast of prey belonging to the cat tribe, that its colour is tawny, variegated with rich black spots, and that it is a fierce and voracious animal, almost equally dreaded by man and beast. It inhabits many parts of Africa and Asia, and in those portions of the country which are untenanted by mankind, it derives all its sustenance from the herb-eating animals of the same tracts.

THE LEOPARD.

To deer and antelopes it is a terrible enemy, and in spite of their active limbs, seldom fails in obtaining its prey. Swift as is the Leopard, for a short distance, and wonderful as its spring, it has not the enduring speed of the deer or antelope, animals which are specially formed for running, and which, if a limb is shattered, can run nearly as fast and quite as far on three legs as they can when all four limbs are uninjured. Instinctively knowing its inferiority in the race, the Leopard supplies by cunning the want of enduring speed.

It conceals itself in some spot whence it can see far around without being seen, and thence surveys the country. A tree is the usual spot selected for this purpose, and the Leopard, after climbing the trunk by means of its curved talons, settles itself in the fork of the branches, so that its body is hidden by the boughs, and only its head is shown between them. With such scrupulous care does it conceal itself, that none but a practised hunter can discover it, while any one who is unaccustomed to the woods cannot see the animal even when the tree is pointed out to him.

As soon as the Leopard sees the deer feeding at a distance, he slips down the tree and stealthily glides off in their direction. He has many difficulties to overcome, because the deer are among the most watchful of animals, and if the Leopard were to approach to the windward, they would scent him while he was yet a mile away from them. If he were to show himself but for one moment in the open ground he would be seen, and if he were but to shake a branch or snap a dry twig he would be heard. So, he is obliged to approach them against the wind, to keep himself under cover, and yet to glide so carefully along that the heavy foliage of the underwood shall not be shaken, and the dry sticks and leaves which strew the ground shall not be broken. He has also to escape the observation of certain birds and beasts which inhabit the woods, and which would certainly set up their alarm-cry as soon as they saw him, and so give warning to the wary deer, which can perfectly understand a cry of alarm, from whatever animal it may happen to proceed.

Still, he proceeds steadily on his course, gliding from one covert to another, and often expending several hours before he can proceed for a mile. By degrees he contrives to come tolerably close to them, and generally manages to conceal himself in some spot towards which the deer are gradually feeding their way. As soon as they are near enough, he collects himself for a spring, just as a cat does when she leaps on a bird, and dashes towards the deer in a series of mighty bounds. For a moment or two they are startled and paralysed with fear at the sudden appearance of their enemy, and thus give him time to get among them. Singling out some particular animal, he leaps upon it, strikes it down with one blow of his paw, and then, couching on the fallen animal, he tears open its throat, and laps the flowing blood.

LEOPARD ATTACKING A HERD OF DEER.

In this manner does it obtain its prey when it lives in the desert, but when it happens to be in the neighbourhood of human habitations, it acts in a different manner. Whenever man settles himself in any place, his presence is a signal for the beasts of the desert and forest to fly. The more timid, such as the deer and antelope, are afraid of him, and betake themselves as far away as possible. The more savage inhabitants of the land, such as the lion, leopard, and other animals, wage an unequal war against him for a time, but are continually driven farther and farther away, until at last they are completely expelled from the country. The predaceous beasts are, however, loth to retire, and do so by very slow degrees. They can no longer support themselves on the deer and antelopes, but find a simple substitute for them in the flocks and herds which man introduces, and in the seizing of which there is as much craft required as in the catching of the fleeter and wilder animals. Sheep and goats cannot run away like the antelopes, but they are penned so carefully within inclosures, and guarded so watchfully by herdsmen and dogs, that the Leopard is obliged to exert no small amount of cunning before it can obtain a meal.

Sometimes it creeps quietly to the fold, and escapes the notice of the dogs, seizes upon a sheep, and makes off with it before the alarm is given. Sometimes it hides by the wayside, and as the flock pass by it dashes into the midst of them, snatches up a sheep, and disappears among the underwood on the opposite side of the road. Sometimes it is crafty enough to deprive the fold of its watchful guardian. Dogs which are used to Leopard-hunting never attack the animal, though they are rendered furious by the sound of its voice. They dash at it as if they meant to devour it, but take very good care to keep out of reach of its terrible paws. By continually keeping the animal at bay, they give time for their master to come up, and generally contrive to drive it into a tree, where it can be shot.

But instances have been known where the Leopard has taken advantage of the dogs, and carried them off in a very cunning manner. It hides itself tolerably near the fold, and then begins to growl in a low voice. The dogs think that they hear a Leopard at a distance, and dash towards the sound with furious barks and yells. In so doing, they are sure to pass by the hiding-place of the Leopard, which springs upon them unawares, knocks one of them over, and bounds away to its den in the woods. It does not content itself with taking sheep or goats from the fold, but is also a terrible despoiler of the hen-roosts, destroying great numbers in a single night when once it contrives to find its way into the house.

THE LEOPARD LEAPS UPON HIS PREY.

As an instance of the cunning which seems innate in the Leopard, I may mention that whenever it takes up its abode near a village, it does not meddle with the flocks and herds of its neighbours, but prefers to go to some other village at a distance for food, thus remaining unsuspected almost at the very doors of the houses.

In general, it does not willingly attack mankind, and at all events seems rather to fear the presence of a full-grown man. But, when wounded or irritated, all sense of fear is lost in an overpowering rush of fury, and it then becomes as terrible a foe as the lion himself. It is not so large nor so strong, but it is more agile and quicker in its movements; and when it is seized with one of these paroxysms of anger, the eye can scarcely follow it as it darts here and there, striking with lightning rapidity, and dashing at any foe within reach. Its whole shape seems to be transformed, and absolutely to swell with anger; its eyes flash with fiery lustre, its ears are thrown back on the head, and it continually utters alternate snarls and yells of rage. It is hardly possible to recognise the graceful, lithe glossy creature, whose walk is so noiseless, and whose every movement is so easy, in the furious passion-swollen animal that flies at every foe with blind fury, and pours out sounds so fierce and menacing that few men, however well armed, will care to face it.

As is the case with most of the cat tribe, the Leopard is an excellent climber, and can ascend trees and traverse their boughs without the least difficulty. It is so fond of trees, that it is seldom to be seen except in a well-wooded district. Its favourite residence is a forest where there is plenty of underwood, at least six or seven feet in height, among which trees are sparingly interspersed. When crouched in this cover it is practically invisible, even though its body may be within arm's length of a passenger. The spotted body harmonizes so perfectly with the broken lights and deep shadows of the foliage that even a practised hunter will not enter a covert in search of a Leopard unless he is accompanied by dogs. The instinct which teaches the Leopard to choose such localities is truly wonderful, and may be compared with that of the tiger, which cares little for underwood, but haunts the grass jungles, where the long, narrow blades harmonize with the stripes which decorate its body.

WAITING.

The skin of the Leopard has always been highly valued on account of its beauty, and in Africa, at the present day, a robe made of its spotted skin is as much an adjunct of royalty as is the ermine the emblem of judicial dignity in England. In more ancient times, a leopard skin was the official costume of a priest, the skin being sometimes shaped into a garment, and sometimes thrown over the shoulders and the paws crossed over the breast.

Such is a general history of the Leopard. We will now proceed to the various passages in which it is mentioned, beginning with its outward aspect.

In the first place, the Hebrew word Namer signifies "spotted," and is given to the animal in allusion to its colours. The reader will now see how forcible is the lament of Jeremiah, "Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the Leopard his spots?" Literally, "Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the spotted one his spots?"

The agility and swiftness of the Leopard are alluded to in the prediction by the prophet Habakkuk of the vengeance that would come upon Israel through the Chaldeans. In chap. i. 5, we read: "I will work a work in your days, which ye will not believe though it be told you. For, lo, I raise up the Chaldeans, that bitter and hasty nation, which shall march through the breadth of the land, to possess the dwelling-places that are not theirs. They are terrible and dreadful; their judgment and their dignity shall proceed of themselves. Their horses also are swifter than the Leopards, and are more fierce than the evening wolves."

The craftiness of the Leopard, and the manner in which it lies in wait for its prey, are alluded to in more than one passage of Holy Writ. Hosea the prophet alludes to the Leopard in a few simple words which display an intimate acquaintance with the habits of this formidable animal, and in this part of his prophecies he displays that peculiar local tone which distinguishes his writings. Speaking of the Israelites under the metaphor of a flock, or a herd, he proceeds to say: "According to their pasture so were they filled; they were filled, and their heart was exalted; therefore have they forgotten me. Therefore I will be unto them as a lion, as a Leopard by the way will I observe them." The reader will note the peculiar force of this sentence, whereby God signifies that He will destroy them openly, as a lion rushes on its prey, and that he will chastise them unexpectedly, as if it were a Leopard crouching by the wayside, and watching for the flock to pass, that it may spring on its prey unexpectedly. The same habit of the Leopard is also alluded to by Jeremiah, who employs precisely the same imagery as is used by Habakkuk. See Jer. v. 5, 6, "These have altogether broken the yoke, and burst the bonds. Wherefore a lion out of the forest shall slay them, and a wolf of the evenings shall spoil them, a leopard shall watch over their cities." It is evident from the employment of this image by two prophets, the one being nearly a hundred years before the other, that the crafty, insidious habits of the Leopard were well known in Palestine, and that the metaphor would tell with full force among those to whom it was addressed.

THE CAT.

The Cat never mentioned by name in the canonical Scriptures, and only once in the Apocrypha—The Cat domesticated among the Egyptians, and trained in bird-catching—Neglected capabilities of the Cat—Anecdote of an English Cat that caught fish for her master—Presumed reason why the Scriptures are silent about the Cat—The Cat mentioned by Baruch.

It is a very remarkable circumstance that the word Cat is not once mentioned in the whole of the canonical Scriptures, and only once in the Apocrypha.

The Egyptians, as is well known, kept Cats domesticated in their houses, a fact which is mentioned by Herodotus, in his second book, and the 66th and 67th chapters. After describing the various animals which were kept and fed by this nation, he proceeds to narrate the habits of the Cat, and writes as follows: "When a fire takes place, a supernatural impulse seizes the cats. For the Egyptians, standing at a distance, take care of the cats and neglect to quench the fire; but the cats make their escape, and leaping over the men, cast themselves into the fire, and when this occurs, great lamentations are made among the Egyptians. In whatever house a cat dies of a natural death, all the family shave their eyebrows. All cats that die are carried to certain sacred houses, where, after being embalmed, they are buried in the city of Bubastis."

Now, as many of those cat-mummies have been discovered in good preservation, the species has been identified with the Egyptian Cat of the present day, which is scientifically termed Felis maniculatus. Not only did the Egyptians keep Cats at their houses, but, as is shown by certain sculptures, took the animals with them when they went bird-catching, and employed them in securing their prey. Some persons have doubted this statement, saying, that in the first place, the Cat is not possessed of sufficient intelligence for the purpose; and that in the second place, as the hunter is represented as catching wild fowl, the Cat would not be able to assist him, because it would not enter the water. Neither objection is valid, nor would have been made by a naturalist.

There are no grounds whatever for assuming that the Cat has not sufficient intelligence to aid its master in hunting. On the contrary, there are many familiar instances where the animal has been trained, even in this country, to catch birds and other game, and bring its prey home. By nature the Cat is an accomplished hunter, and, like other animals of the same disposition, can be taught to use its powers for mankind. We all know that the chetah, a member of the same tribe, is in constant use at the present day, and we learn from ancient sculptures that the lion was employed for the same purpose. Passing from land to water, mankind has succeeded in teaching the seal and the otter to plunge into the water, catch their finny prey, and deliver it to their owners. Among predaceous birds, we have trained the eagle, the falcon, and various hawks, to assist us in hunting the finned and feathered tribes, while we have succeeded in teaching the cormorant to catch fish for its master, and not for itself. Why, then, should the Cat be excepted from a rule so general? The fact is, the Cat has been, although domesticated for so many centuries, a comparatively neglected animal; and it is the fashion to heap upon it the contumacious epithets of sullen, treacherous, selfish, spiteful, and intractable, just as we take as our emblems of stupidity the ass and the goose, which are really among the most cunning of the lower animals. We have never tried to teach the Cat the art of hunting for her owners, but that is no reason for asserting that the animal could not be taught.

As to entering the water, every one who is familiar with the habits of the Cat knows perfectly well that the Cat will voluntarily enter water in chase of prey. A Cat does not like to wet her feet, and will not enter the water without a very powerful reason, but when that motive is supplied, she has no hesitation about it. A curious and valuable confirmation of this fact appeared some time ago in "The Field" newspaper, in which was recorded the history of an old fisherman, whose Cat invariably went to sea with him, and as invariably used to leap overboard, seize fish in her mouth, and bring them to the side of the boat, where her kindly owner could lift her out, together with the captured fish.

The Cat, then, having been the favoured companion of the Egyptians, among whom the Israelites lived while they multiplied from a family into a nation, it does seem very remarkable that the sacred writers should not even mention it. There is no prohibition of the animal, even indirectly, in the Mosaic law; but it may be the case that the Israelites repudiated the Cat simply because it was so favoured by their former masters.

THE DOG.

Antipathy displayed by Orientals towards the Dog, and manifested throughout the Scriptures—Contrast between European and Oriental Dogs—Habits of the Dogs of Palestine—The City Dogs and their singular organization—The herdsman's Dog—Various passages of Scripture—Dogs and the crumbs—their numbers—Signor Pierotti's experience of the Dogs—Possibility of their perfect domestication—The peculiar humiliation of Lazarus—Voracity of the Wild Dogs—The fate of Ahab and Jezebel—Anecdote of a volunteer Watch-dog—Innate affection of the Dog towards mankind—Peculiar local Instinct of the Oriental Dog—Albert Smith's account of the Dogs at Constantinople—The Dervish and his Dogs—The Greyhound—Uncertainty of the word.

Scarcely changed by the lapse of centuries, the Oriental of the present day retains most of the peculiarities which distinguished him throughout the long series of years during which the books of sacred Scripture were given to the world. In many of these characteristics he differs essentially from Europeans of the present day, and exhibits a tone of mind which seems to be not merely owing to education, but to be innate and inherent in the race.

One of these remarkable characteristics is the strange loathing with which he regards the Dog. In all other parts of the world, the Dog is one of the most cherished and valued of animals, but among those people whom we popularly class under the name of Orientals, the Dog is detested and despised. As the sacred books were given to the world through the mediumship of Orientals, we find that this feeling towards the Dog is manifested whenever the animal is mentioned; and whether we turn to the books of the Law, the splendid poetry of the Psalms and the book of Job, the prophetical or the historical portions of the Old Testament, we find the name of the Dog repeatedly mentioned; and in every case in connexion with some repulsive idea. If we turn from the Old to the New Testament, we find the same idea manifested, whether in the Gospels, the Epistles, or the Revelation.

To the mind of the true Oriental the very name of the Dog carries with it an idea of something utterly repugnant to his nature, and he does not particularly like even the thought of the animal coming across his mind. And this is the more extraordinary, because at the commencement and termination of their history the Dog was esteemed by their masters. The Egyptians, under whose rule they grew to be a nation, knew the value of the Dog, and showed their appreciation in the many works of art which have survived to our time. Then the Romans, under whose iron grasp the last vestiges of nationality crumbled away, honoured and respected the Dog, made it their companion, and introduced its portrait into their houses. But, true to their early traditions, the Jews of the East have ever held the Dog in the same abhorrence as is manifested by their present masters, the followers of Mahommed.

Owing to the prevalence of this feeling, the Dogs of Oriental towns are so unlike their more fortunate European relatives, that they can hardly be recognised as belonging to the same species. In those lands the traveller finds that there is none of the wonderful variety which so distinguishes the Dog of Europe. There he will never see the bluff, sturdy, surly, faithful mastiff, the slight gazelle-like greyhound, the sharp, intelligent terrier, the silent, courageous bulldog, the deep-voiced, tawny bloodhound, the noble Newfoundland, the clever, vivacious poodle, or the gentle, silken-haired spaniel.

As he traverses the streets, he finds that all the dogs are alike, and that all are gaunt, hungry, half starved, savage, and cowardly, more like wolves than dogs, and quite as ready as wolves to attack when they fancy they can do so with safety. They prowl about the streets in great numbers, living, as they best can, on any scraps of food that they may happen to find. They have no particular masters, and no particular homes. Charitable persons will sometimes feed them, but will never make companions of them, feeling that the very contact of a dog would be a pollution. They are certainly useful animals, because they act as scavengers, and will eat almost any animal substance that comes in their way.

The strangest part of their character is the organization which prevails among them. By some extraordinary means they divide the town into districts, and not one dog ever ventures out of that particular district to which it is attached. The boundaries, although invisible, are as effectual as the loftiest walls, and not even the daintiest morsel will tempt a dog to pass the mysterious line which forms the boundary of his district. Generally, these bands of dogs are so savage that any one who is obliged to walk in a district where the dogs do not know him is forced to carry a stout stick for his protection. Like their European relatives, they have great dislike towards persons who are dressed after a fashion to which they are unaccustomed, and therefore are sure to harass any one who comes from Europe and wears the costume of his own country. As is customary among animals which unite themselves in troops, each band is under the command of a single leader, whose position is recognised and his authority acknowledged by all the members.

DOGS IN AN EASTERN CITY AT NIGHT.

These peculiarities are to be seen almost exclusively in the dogs which run wild about the towns, because there is abundant evidence in the Scriptures that the animal was used in a partially domesticated state, certainly for the protection of their herds, and possibly for the guardianship of their houses. That the Dog was employed for the first of these purposes is shown in Job xxx. i: "But now they that are younger than I have me in derision, whose fathers I would have disdained to have set with the dogs of my flock." And that the animal was used for the protection of houses is thought by some commentators to be shown by the well-known passage in Is. lvi. 10: "His watchmen are blind: they are all ignorant, they are all dumb dogs, they cannot bark; sleeping, lying down, loving to slumber." Still, it is very probable that in this passage the reference is not made to houses, but to the flocks and herds which these watchmen ought to have guarded.

The rooted dislike and contempt felt by the Israelites towards the Dog is seen in numerous passages. Even in that sentence from Job which has just been quoted, wherein the writer passionately deplores the low condition into which he has fallen, and contrasts it with his former high estate, he complains that he is despised by those whose fathers he held even in less esteem than the dogs which guarded his herds. There are several references to the Dog in the books of Samuel, in all of which the name of the animal is mentioned contemptuously. For example, when David accepted the challenge of Goliath, and went to meet his gigantic enemy without the ordinary protection of mail, and armed only with a sling and his shepherd's staff Goliath said to him, "Am I a dog, that thou comest to me with staves?" (1 Sam. xvii. 43.) And in the same book, chapter xxiv. 14, David remonstrates with Saul for pursuing so insignificant a person as himself, and said, "After whom is the King of Israel come out? after a dead dog, after a flea."

SHIMEI EXULTING OVER KING DAVID.

The same metaphor is recorded in the second book of the same writer. Once it was employed by Mephibosheth, the lame son of Jonathan, when extolling the generosity of David, then King of Israel in the place of his grandfather Saul: "And he bowed himself, and said, 'What is thy servant, that thou shouldest look upon such a dead dog as I am?'" (2 Sam. ix. 8.) In the same book, chapter xvi. 9, Abishai applies this contemptuous epithet to Shimei, who was exulting over the troubled monarch with all the insolence of a cowardly nature, "Why should this dead dog curse my lord the king?" Abner also makes use of a similar expression, "Am I a dog's head?" And we may also refer to the familiar passage in 2 Kings viii. 13, Elisha had prophesied to Hazael that he would become king on the death of Ben-hadad, and that he would work terrible mischief in the land. Horrified at these predictions, or at all events pretending to be so, he replied, "But what, is thy servant a dog, that he should do this great thing?"

If we turn from the Old to the New Testament, we find the same contemptuous feeling displayed towards the Dog. It is mentioned as an intolerable aggravation of the sufferings endured by Lazarus the beggar as he lay at the rich man's gate, that the dogs came and licked his sores. In several passages, the word Dog is employed as a metaphor for scoffers, or unclean persons, or sometimes for those who did not belong to the Church, whether Jewish or Christian. In the Sermon on the Mount our Lord himself uses this image, "Give not that which is holy unto dogs" (Matt. vii. 6.) In the same book, chapter xv. 26, Jesus employs the same metaphor when speaking to the Canaanitish woman who had come to ask him to heal her daughter: "It is not meet to take the children's bread and cast it to dogs." And that she understood the meaning of the words is evident from her answer, in which faith and humility are so admirably blended. Both St. Paul and St. John employ the word Dog in the same sense. In his epistle to the Philippians, chapter iii. 2, St. Paul writes, "Beware of dogs, beware of evil workers." And in the Revelation, chapter xxii. 14, these words occur: "Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates to the city; for without are dogs, and sorcerers, ... and murderers, and idolaters, and whomsoever loveth and maketh a lie."

That the dogs of ancient times formed themselves into bands just as they do at present is evident from many passages of Scripture, among which may be mentioned those sentences from the Psalms, wherein David is comparing the assaults of his enemies to the attacks of the dogs which infested the city. "Thou hast brought me into the dust of death; for dogs have compassed me, the assembly of the wicked have enclosed me." This passage will be better appreciated when the reader has perused the following extract from a recent work by Signor Pierotti. After giving a general account of the Dogs of Palestine and their customs, he proceeds as follows:—

"In Jerusalem, and in the other towns, the dogs have an organization of their own. They are divided into families and districts, especially in the night time, and no one of them ventures to quit his proper quarter; for if he does, he is immediately attacked by all the denizens of that into which he intrudes, and is driven back, with several bites as a reminder. Therefore, when an European is walking through Jerusalem by night, he is always followed by a number of canine attendants, and greeted at every step with growls and howls. These tokens of dislike, however, are not intended for him, but for his followers, who are availing themselves of his escort to pass unmolested from one quarter to another.

"During a very hard winter, I fed many of the dogs who frequented the road which I traversed almost every evening, and afterwards, each time that I passed, I received the homage not only of the individuals, but of the whole band to which they belonged, for they accompanied me to the limits of their respective jurisdictions and were ready to follow me to my own house, if I did but give them a sign of encouragement, coming at my beck from any distance. They even recollected the signal two years afterwards, though it was but little that I had given them."

The account which this experienced writer gives of the animal presents a singular mixture of repulsive and pleasing traits, the latter being attributable to the true nature of the Dog, and the former to the utter neglect with which it is treated. He remarks that the dogs which run wild in the cities of Palestine are ill-favoured, ill-scented, and ill-conditioned beasts, more like jackals or wolves than dogs, and covered with scars, which betoken their quarrelsome nature. Yet, the same animals lose their wild, savage disposition, as soon as any human being endeavours to establish that relationship which was evidently intended to exist between man and the dog. How readily even these despised and neglected animals respond to the slightest advance, has been already shown by Sig. Pierotti's experience, and there is no doubt that these tawny, short-haired, wolf-like animals, could be trained as perfectly as their more favoured brethren of the western world.

As in the olden times, so at the present day, the dogs lie about in the streets, dependent for their livelihood upon the offal that is flung into the roads, or upon the chance morsels that may be thrown to them. An allusion to this custom is made in the well-known passage in Matt. xv. The reader will remember the circumstance that a woman of Canaan, and therefore not an Israelite, came to Jesus, and begged him to heal her daughter, who was vexed with a devil. Then, to try her faith, He said, "It is not meet to take the children's bread, and to cast it to dogs." And she said, "Truth, Lord: yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their master's table." Now, the "crumbs" which are here mentioned are the broken pieces of bread which were used at table, much as bread is sometimes used in eating fish. The form of the "loaves" being flat, and much like that of the oat-cake of this country, adapted them well to the purpose. The same use of broken bread is alluded to in the parable of Lazarus, who desired to be fed with the crumbs that fell from the rich man's table, i. e. to partake of the same food as the dogs which swarmed round him and licked his sores.

LAZARUS LYING AT THE RICH MAN'S DOOR.

THE DEATH OF JEZEBEL.

The "crumbs," however liberally distributed, would not nearly suffice for the subsistence of the canine armies, and their chief support consists of the offal, which is rather too plentifully flung into the streets. If the body of any animal, not excluding their own kind, be found lying in the streets, the dogs will assemble round it, and tear it to pieces, and they have no scruples even in devouring a human body. Of course, owing to the peculiar feeling entertained by the Orientals towards the Dog, no fate can be imagined more repulsive to the feelings of humanity than to be eaten by dogs; and therein lies the terror of the fate which was prophesied of Ahab and Jezebel. Moreover, the blood, even of the lower animals, was held in great sanctity, and it was in those days hardly possible to invoke a more dreadful fate upon any one than that his blood should be lapped by dogs.

We lose much of the real force of the Scriptures, if we do not possess some notion of the manners and customs of Palestine and the neighbouring countries, as well as of the tone of mind prevalent among the inhabitants. In our own country, that any one should be eaten by dogs would be a fate so contrary to usage, that we can hardly conceive its possibility, and such a fate would be out of the ordinary course of events. But, if such a fate should happen to befall any one, we should have no stronger feeling of pity than the natural regret that the dead person was not buried with Christian rites.

But, with the inhabitants of Palestine, such an event was by no means unlikely. It was, and is still, the custom to bury the corpse almost as soon as life has departed, and such would ordinarily have been the case with the dead body of Jezebel. But, through fear of the merciless Jehu, by whose command she had been flung from the window of her own palace, no one dared to remove her mangled body. The dogs, therefore, seized upon their prey; and, even before Jehu had risen from the banquet with which he celebrated his deed, nothing was left of the body but the skull, the feet, and the hands.

SYRIAN DOG.

In Mr. Tristram's work, the author has recognised the true dog nature, though concealed behind an uninviting form: "Our watch-dog, Beirût, attached himself instinctively to Wilhelm, though his canine instinct soon taught him to recognise every one of our party of fourteen, and to cling to the tents, whether in motion or at rest, as his home. Poor Beirût! though the veriest pariah in appearance, thy plebeian form encased as noble a dog-heart as ever beat at the sound of a stealthy step."

The same author records a very remarkable example of the sagacity of the native Dog, and the fidelity with which it will keep guard over the property of its master. "The guard-house provided us, unasked, with an invaluable and vigilant sentry, who was never relieved, nor ever quitted the post of duty. The poor Turkish conscript, like every other soldier in the world, is fond of pets, and in front of the grim turret that served for a guard-house was a collection of old orange-boxes and crates, thickly peopled with a garrison of dogs of low degree, whose attachment to the spot was certainly not purchased by the loaves and fishes which fell to their lot.

"One of the family must indeed have had hard times, for she had a family of no less than five dependent on her exertions, and on the superfluities of the sentries' mess. With a sagacity almost more than canine, the poor gaunt creature had scarcely seen our tents pitched before she came over with all her litter and deposited them in front of our tent. At once she scanned the features of every member of the encampment, and introduced herself to our notice. During the week of our stay, she never quitted her post, or attempted any depredation on our kitchen-tent, which might have led to her banishment. Night and day she proved a faithful and vigilant sentry, permitting no stranger, human or canine, European or Oriental, to approach the tents without permission, but keeping on the most familiar terms with ourselves and our servants.

"On the morning of our departure, no sooner had she seen our camp struck, than she conveyed her puppies back to their old quarters in the orange-box, and no entreaties or bribes could induce her to accompany us. On three subsequent visits to Jerusalem, the same dog acted in a similar way, though no longer embarrassed by family cares, and would on no account permit any strange dog, nor even her companions at the guard-house, to approach within the tent ropes."

After perusing this account of the Dog of Palestine, two points strike the reader. The first is the manner in which the Dog, in spite of all the social disadvantages under which it labours, displays one of the chief characteristics of canine nature, namely, the yearning after human society. The animal in question had already attached herself to the guard-house, where she could meet with some sort of human converse, though the inborn prejudices of the Moslem would prevent the soldiers from inviting her to associate with them, as would certainly have been done by European soldiers. She nestled undisturbed in the orange-box, and, safe under the protection of the guard, brought up her young family in their immediate neighbourhood. But, as soon as Europeans arrived, her instinct told her that they would be closer associates than the Turkish soldiers who were quartered in the guard-house, and accordingly she removed herself and her family to the shelter of their tents.

Herein she carried out the leading principle of a dog's nature. A dog must have a master, or at all events a mistress, and just in proportion as he is free from human control, does he become less dog-like and more wolf-like. In fact, familiar intercourse with mankind is an essential part of a dog's true character, and the animal seems to be so well aware of this fact, that he will always contrive to find a master of some sort, and will endure a life of cruel treatment at the hands of a brutal owner rather than have no master at all.

The second point in this account is the singular local instinct which characterises the Dogs of Palestine and other eastern countries, and which is as much inbred in them as the faculty of marking game in the pointer, the combative nature in the bulldog, the exquisite scent in the bloodhound, and the love of water in the Newfoundland dog. In this country, we fancy that the love of locality belongs especially to the cat, and that the Dog cares little for place, and much for man. But, in this case, we find that the local instinct overpowered the yearning for human society. Fond as was this dog of her newly-found friends, and faithful as she was in her self-imposed service, she would not follow them away from the spot where she had been born, and where she had produced her own young.

This curious love for locality has evidently been derived from the traditional custom of successive generations, which has passed from the realm of reason into that of instinct. The reader will remember that Sig. Pierotti mentions an instance where the dogs which he had been accustomed to feed would follow him as far as the limits of their particular district, but would go no farther. The late Albert Smith, in his "Month at Constantinople," gives a similar example of this characteristic. He first describes the general habits of the dogs.

On the first night of his arrival, he could not sleep, and went to the window to look out in the night. "The noise I heard then I shall never forget. To say that if all the sheep-dogs, in going to Smithfield on a market-day, had been kept on the constant bark, and pitted against the yelping curs upon all the carts in London, they could have given any idea of the canine uproar that now first astonished me, would be to make the feeblest of images. The whole city rang with one vast riot. Down below me, at Tophané—over-about Stamboul—far away at Scutari—the whole sixty thousand dogs that are said to overrun Constantinople appeared engaged in the most active extermination of each other, without a moment's cessation. The yelping, howling, barking, growling, and snarling, were all merged into one uniform and continuous even sound, as the noise of frogs becomes when heard at a distance. For hours there was no lull. I went to sleep, and woke again, and still, with my windows open, I heard the same tumult going on; nor was it until daybreak that anything like tranquillity was restored.

"Going out in the daytime, it is not difficult to find traces of the fights of the night about the limbs of all the street dogs. There is not one, among their vast number, in the possession of a perfect skin. Some have their ears gnawed away or pulled off; others have their eyes taken out; from the backs and haunches of others perfect steaks of flesh had been torn away; and all bear the scars of desperate combats.

"Wild and desperate as is their nature, these poor animals are susceptible of kindness. If a scrap of bread is thrown to one of them now and then, he does not forget it; for they have, at times, a hard matter to live—not the dogs amongst the shops of Galata or Stamboul, but those whose 'parish' lies in the large burying-grounds and desert places without the city; for each keeps, or rather is kept, to his district, and if he chanced to venture into a strange one, the odds against his return would be very large. One battered old animal, to whom I used occasionally to toss a scrap of food, always followed me from the hotel to the cross street in Pera, where the two soldiers stood on guard, but would never come beyond this point. He knew the fate that awaited him had he done so; and therefore, when I left him, he would lie down in the road, and go to sleep until I came back.

"When a horse or camel dies, and is left about the roads near the city, the bones are soon picked very clean by these dogs, and they will carry the skulls or pelves to great distances. I was told that they will eat their dead fellows—a curious fact, I believe, in canine economy. They are always troublesome, not to say dangerous, at night; and are especially irritated by Europeans, whom they will single out amongst a crowd of Levantines."

In the same work there is a short description of a solitary dervish, who had made his home in the hollow of a large plane-tree, in front of which he sat, surrounded by a small fence of stakes only a foot or so in height. Around him, but not venturing within the fence, were a number of gaunt, half-starved dogs, who prowled about him in hopes of having an occasional morsel of food thrown to them. Solitary as he was, and scanty as must have been the nourishment which he could afford to them, the innate trustfulness of the dog-nature induced them to attach themselves to human society of some sort, though their master was one, and they were many—he was poor, and they were hungry.

EASTERN WATER-SELLER.

THE WOLF.

Identity of the animal indisputable—its numbers, past and present—The Wolf never mentioned directly—its general habits—References in Scripture—its mingled ferocity and cowardice—its association into packs—The Wolf's bite—How it takes its prey—its ravages among the flocks—Allusions to this habit—The shepherd and his nightly enemies—Mr. Tristram and the Wolf—A semi-tamed Wolf at Marsaba.

There is no doubt that the Hebrew word Zeëb, which occurs in a few passages of the Old Testament, is rightly translated as Wolf, and signifies the same animal as is frequently mentioned in the New Testament.

This fierce and dangerous animal was formerly very plentiful in Palestine, but is now much less common, owing to the same causes which have extirpated the lion from the country. It is a rather remarkable fact, that in no passage of Holy Writ is the Wolf directly mentioned. Its name is used as a symbol of a fierce and treacherous enemy, but neither in the Old nor New Testament does any sacred writer mention any act as performed by the Wolf. We have already heard of the lion which attacked Samson and was killed by him, of the lion which slew the disobedient prophet, and of the lions which spared Daniel when thrown into their den. We also read of the dogs which licked Ahab's blood, and ate the body of Jezebel, also of the bears which tore the mocking children.

But in no case is the Wolf mentioned, except in a metaphorical sense; and this fact is the more remarkable, because the animals were so numerous that they were very likely to have exercised some influence on a history extending over such a lengthened range of years, and limited to so small a portion of the earth. Yet we never hear of the Wolf attacking any of the personages mentioned in Scripture; and although we are told of the exploit of David, who pursued a lion and a bear that had taken a lamb out of his fold, we are never told of any similar deed in connexion with the Wolf.

WOLVES ATTACKING A FLOCK OF SHEEP.

This animal was then what it is now. Seldom seen by day, it lies hidden in its covert as long as the light lasts, and steals out in search of prey in the evening. This custom of the Wolf is mentioned in several passages of Holy Scripture, such as that in Jer. v. 5, 6: "These have altogether broken the yoke, and burst the bonds. Wherefore a lion out of the forest shall slay them, and a wolf of the evenings shall spoil them." In this passage the reader will see that the rebellious Israelites are compared to restive draught cattle which have broken away from their harness and run loose, so that they are deprived of the protection of their owners, and exposed to the fury of wild beasts. A similar reference is made in Hab. i. 8: "Their horses also are swifter than the leopards, and are more fierce than the evening wolves." The same habit of the Wolf is alluded to in Zeph. iii. 3: "Her princes within her are roaring lions; her judges are evening wolves."

Individually, the Wolf is rather a timid animal. It will avoid a man rather than meet him. It prefers to steal upon its prey and take it unawares, rather than to seize it openly and boldly. It is ever suspicious of treachery, and is always imagining that a trap is laid for it. Even the shallow device of a few yards of rope trailing from any object, or a strip of cloth fluttering in the breeze, is quite sufficient to keep the Wolf at bay for a considerable time. This fact is well known to hunters, who are accustomed to secure the body of a slain deer by simply tying a strip of cloth to its horn. If taken in a trap of any kind, or even if it fancies itself in an enclosure from which it can find no egress, it loses all courage, and will submit to be killed without offering the least resistance. It will occasionally endeavour to effect its escape by feigning death, and has more than once been known to succeed in this device.

But, collectively, the Wolf is one of the most dangerous animals that can be found. Herding together in droves when pressed by hunger, the wolves will openly hunt prey, performing this task as perfectly as a pack of trained hounds. Full of wiles themselves, they are craftily wise in anticipating the wiles of the animals which they pursue; and even in full chase, while the body of the pack is following on the footsteps of the flying animal, one or two are detached on the flanks, so as to cut it off if it should attempt to escape by doubling on its pursuers.

There is no animal which a herd of wolves will not attack, and very few which they will not ultimately secure. Strength avails nothing against the numbers of these savage foes, which give no moment of rest, but incessantly assail their antagonist, dashing by instinct at those parts of the body which can be least protected, and lacerating with their peculiar short, snapping bite. Should several of their number be killed or disabled, it makes no difference to the wolves, except that a minute or two are wasted in devouring their slain or wounded brethren, and they only return to the attack the more excited by the taste of blood. Swiftness of foot avails nothing against the tireless perseverance of the wolves, who press on in their peculiar, long, slinging gallop, and in the end are sure to tire out the swifter footed but less enduring animal that flees before them. The stately buffalo is conquered by the ceaseless assaults of the wolves; the bear has been forced to succumb to them, and the fleet-footed stag finds his swift limbs powerless to escape the pursuing band, and his branching horns unable to resist their furious onset when once they overtake him.