There are many varieties of the domestic ox or cow, all of which are supposed to have sprung from a species still found wild in Europe and Asia. The herds of wild cattle in North and South America are the progeny of animals brought hither by the Spanish settlers.
Miscellaneous Anecdotes.– The following account is from the journal of a Sante Fe trader: "Our encampment was in a beautiful plain. Our cattle were shut up in the pen with the wagons; and our men were, with the exception of the guard, all wrapped in a peaceful slumber, – when all of a sudden, about midnight, a tremendous uproar was heard, which caused every man to start in terror from his couch, with arms in hand. Some animal, it appeared, had taken fright at a dog, and, by a sudden start, set all around him in violent motion. The panic spread simultaneously through the pen; and a scene of rattle, clash, and 'lumbering' succeeded, which far surpassed every thing we had yet witnessed. A general stampede was the result. Notwithstanding the wagons were tightly bound together, wheel to wheel, with ropes or chains, the oxen soon burst their way out; and, though mostly yoked in pairs, they went scampering over the plains. All attempts to stop them were in vain; but early the next morning we set out in search of them, and recovered all the oxen, except half a dozen." Similar cases of panic are frequently described by travellers upon the western prairies.
The cattle of South America, especially in the neighborhood of Buenos Ayres, are said to give indications of approaching rain, before the signs of it are visible in the atmosphere. A traveller relates that, in passing from this place, the weather had been long dry, almost every spring had failed, and the negroes were sent in all directions to discover fountains. Soon after, the cattle began to stretch their necks to the west, and to snuff in a singular manner through their noses, which they held very high in the air. Not a cloud was then seen, nor the slightest breath of wind felt. But the cattle proceeded, as if seized with a sudden madness, to scamper about, then to gather together, squeezing closer and closer, and snuffing as before. While he was wondering what was to be the result of such extravagant motions, a black cloud rose above the mountains, thunder and lightning followed, the rain fell in torrents, and the cattle were soon enabled to quench their thirst on the spot where they stood.
There are many anecdotes which show that the ox, or cow, has a musical ear. The carts in Corunna, in Spain, make so loud and disagreeable a creaking with their wheels, for the want of oil, that the governor once issued an order to have them greased; but the carters petitioned that this might not be done, as the oxen liked the sound, and would not draw so well without their accustomed music.
Professor Bell assures us that he has often, when a boy, tried the effect of the flute on cows, and has always observed that it produced great apparent enjoyment. Instances have been known of the fiercest bulls being calmed into gentleness by music.
It is probable that the old rhyme had its origin in reality: —
"There was a piper had a cow,
And nothing had to give her:
He took his pipe and played a tune —
'Consider, cow, consider.'"
A correspondent of the Penny Magazine says that, while on a visit to the country-house of a lady, it one day happened that they were passing the cow-house just at the time when the dairymaid was driving home the cows, to be milked. They all passed in quietly enough, with the exception of one, which stood lowing at the door, and resisted every effort of the dairymaid to induce her to enter. When the maid was interrogated as to the cause of this obstinacy, she attributed it to pride; and when surprise was expressed at this, she explained that, whenever any of the other cows happened to get before her, this particular cow would seem quite affronted, and would not enter at all, unless the others were turned out again. This statement having excited curiosity, the maid was desired to redouble her exertions to induce the cow to enter; on which she chased the animal through every corner of the yard, but without success, until she at last desisted, from want of breath, declaring that there was no other remedy than to turn out the other cows. She was then permitted to make the experiment; and no sooner were the others driven out, than in walked the gratified cow, with a stately air – her more humble-minded companions following in her rear.
This animal is peculiar to North America, and wanders in vast herds over the western plains. They are much attracted by the soft, tender grass, which springs up after a fire has spread over the prairie. In winter, they scrape away the snow with their feet, to reach the grass. The bulls and cows live in separate herds for the greater part of the year; but at all seasons, one or two bulls generally accompany a large herd of cows. The bison is in general a shy animal, and takes to flight instantly on winding an enemy, which the acuteness of its sense of smell enables it to do from a great distance. They are less wary when they are assembled together in numbers, and will then often blindly follow their leaders, regardless of, or trampling down, the hunters posted in their way. It is dangerous for the sportsman to show himself after having wounded one, for it will pursue him, and, although its gait may be heavy and awkward, it will have no difficulty in overtaking the fleetest runner.
Anecdotes.– Many instances might be mentioned of the pertinacity with which this animal pursues his revenge. We are told of a hunter having been detained for many hours in a tree by an old bull, which had taken its post below, to watch him. When it contends with a dog, it strikes violently with its fore feet, and in that way proves more than a match for an English bull-dog. The favorite Indian method of killing the bison, is by riding up to the fattest of the herd on horseback, and shooting it with an arrow. When a large party of hunters are engaged in this way, the spectacle is very imposing, and the young men have many opportunities of displaying their skill and agility. The horses appear to enjoy the sport as much as their riders, and are very active in eluding the shock of the animal, should it turn on its pursuer. The most common method, however, of shooting the bison, is by crawling towards them from to leeward; and in favorable places, great numbers are taken in pounds. When the bison runs, it leans very much first to one side, for a short space of time, and then to the other, and so on alternately.
When the Indians determine to destroy bisons, as they frequently do, by driving them over a precipice, one of their swiftest-footed and most active young men is selected, who is disguised in a bison skin, having the head, ears, and horns adjusted on his own head, so as to make the deception very complete; and, thus accoutred, he stations himself between the bison herd and some of the precipices that often extend for several miles along the rivers. The Indians surround the herd as nearly as possible, when, at a given signal, they show themselves, and rush forward with loud yells. The animals being alarmed, and seeing no way open but in the direction of the disguised Indian, run towards him, and he, taking to flight, dashes on to the precipice, where he suddenly secures himself in some previously ascertained crevice. The foremost of the herd arrives at the brink – there is no possibility of retreat, no chance of escape; the foremost may for an instant shrink with terror, but the crowd behind, who are terrified by the approaching hunters, rush forward with increasing impetuosity, and the aggregated force hurls them successively into the gulf, where certain death awaits them.
This order contains a class of animals which live in the water, propel themselves by fins, and have the general form of fishes; yet they are viviparous, and suckle their young; in these respects forming a striking contrast to all the other finny inhabitants of the wave. The principal species are the dolphin, grampus, porpoise, and whale. The latter is remarkable as being by far the largest creature known to the animal kingdom.
This animal usually swims in troops, and its motions in the water are performed with such wonderful rapidity, that the French sailors call it la flèche de la mer, or the sea-arrow. St. Pierre, in his "Voyage to the Isle of France," assures us that he saw a dolphin swim with apparent ease round the vessel in which he was sailing, though it was going at the rate of about six miles an hour. A shoal of dolphins followed the ships of Sir Richard Hawkins upwards of a thousand leagues. They were known to be the same, from the wounds they occasionally received from the sailors. They are greedy of almost any kind of scraps that are thrown overboard, and consequently are often caught by means of large iron hooks, baited with pieces of fish and garbage.
The bounding and gambolling of dolphins has attracted the attention of writers and poets in all ages, and is described as being extremely beautiful.
The ancients believed that dolphins attended all cases of shipwreck, and transported the mariners in safety to the shore. Pirœtes, having made captive Arion, the poet, at length determined on throwing him overboard; and it is said that he escaped in safety to the shore on the back of a dolphin.
The poet says, —
"Kind, generous dolphins love the rocky shore,
Where broken waves with fruitless anger roar.
But though to sounding shores they curious come,
Yet dolphins count the boundless sea their home.
Nay, should these favorites forsake the main,
Neptune would grieve his melancholy reign.
The calmest, stillest seas, when left by them,
Would awful frown, and all unjoyous seem.
But when the darling frisks his wanton play,
The waters smile, and every wave looks gay."
This inhabitant of the deep is from twenty to twenty-five feet in length, and seems to cherish a mortal spite against the whale. It possesses the strong affection for its young common to this order. One of the poems of Waller is founded upon the following incident: A grampus in England, with her cub, once got into an arm of the sea, where, by the desertion of the tide, they were enclosed on every side. The men on shore saw their situation, and ran down upon them with such weapons as they could at the moment collect. The poor animals were soon wounded in several places, so that all the immediately surrounding water was stained with their blood. They made many efforts to escape; and the old one, by superior strength, forced itself over the shallow, into a deep of the ocean. But though in safety herself, she would not leave her young one in the hands of assassins. She therefore again rushed in, and seemed resolved, since she could not prevent, at least to share, the fate of her offspring: the tide coming in, however, conveyed them both off in triumph.
This creature is familiar to every one who has been at sea, or who has frequented the bays and harbors along our coast. It may often be seen in troops gambolling in the water, and seeming like a drove of black hogs, with their backs above the waves. It is imagined by the sailors that they are the most sportive just before a storm. The following method is adopted for taking them on the banks of the St. Lawrence: When the fishing season arrives, the people collect together a great number of sallow twigs, or slender branches of other trees, and stick them pretty firmly into the sand-banks of the river, which at low water are left dry; this is done on the side towards the river, forming a long line of twigs at moderate distances, which at the upper end is connected with the shore, an opening being left at the lower end, that they may enter. As the tide rises, it covers the twigs, so as to keep them out of sight: the porpoise, in quest of his prey, gets within the line; when those who placed the snare rush out in numbers, properly armed, and, while in this defenceless state, they overpower him with ease.
Of this monster of the deep there are several species – as the Great Whale, which is seventy or eighty feet in length; the Spermaceti Whale, which is somewhat smaller, &c. They frequent various seas, and are most common in cold latitudes.
To the Greenlanders, as well as the natives of more southern climates, the whale is an animal of essential importance; and these people spend much time in fishing for it. When they set out on their whale-catching expeditions, they dress themselves in their best apparel, fancying that, if they are not cleanly and neatly clad, the whale, who detests a slovenly and dirty garb, would immediately avoid them. In this manner about fifty persons, men and women, set out together in one of their large boats. The women carry along with them their needles, and other implements, to mend their husbands' clothes, in case they should be torn, and to repair the boat, if it happen to receive any damage. When the men discover a whale, they strike it with their harpoons, to which are fastened lines or straps two or three fathoms long, made of seal-skin, having at the end a bag of a whole seal-skin, blown up. The huge animal, by means of the inflated bag, is in some degree compelled to keep near the surface of the water. When he is fatigued, and rises, the men attack him with their spears till he is killed.
The affection and fidelity of the male and female are very great. Anderson informs us that some fishermen having harpooned one of two whales that were in company together, the wounded animal made a long and terrible resistance; it upset a boat containing three men with a single blow of its tail, by which all went to the bottom. The other still attended its companion, and lent it every assistance, till at last the one that was struck sank under its wounds; while its faithful associate, disdaining to survive the loss, with great bellowing, stretched itself upon the dead animal, and shared its fate.
The whale is remarkable also for its attachment to its young, and may be frequently seen urging and assisting them to escape from danger, with the most unceasing care and fondness. They are not less remarkable for strong feeling of sociality and attachment to one another. This is carried to so great an extent, that, where one female of a herd is attacked or wounded, her faithful companions will remain around her to the last moment, until they are wounded themselves. This act of remaining by a wounded companion is called "heaving to," and whole "schools," or herds, have been destroyed by dexterous management, when several ships have been in company, wholly from their possessing this remarkable disposition.
In the year 1814, an English harpooner struck a cub, in hopes of attracting the attention of the mother. When the young one was wounded, the whale rose to the surface, seized the cub, and dragged a hundred fathoms of line from the boat with great velocity. She again rose to the surface, and dashed furiously about, seemingly deeply concerned for the fate of her young one. Although closely pursued, she did not again descend; and, regardless of the surrounding danger, continued in this state, till she received three harpoons, and was at length killed.
There are few incidents in which the enterprise and power of man are more strikingly displayed than in the chase and capture of the whale. It would be easy to fill a volume with thrilling tales of adventure in this hazardous vocation. One of the most curious occurrences upon record, in relation to the whale fishery, happened to a Nantucket ship some years since in the Pacific Ocean. An attack having been made upon a young whale, the dam went to a distance, and, turning toward the ship, came against the bow with a terrific force, which beat it in, and the vessel sank, only allowing time for the hands to get into the boat. In this they roamed upon the ocean for several weeks, and, when emaciated to the last degree by fatigue and privation, they were finally picked up and saved.
It is evident that this class of animals are generally destined to live a portion of their time in the air, and to perch upon trees. The scientific naturalist is struck with admiring wonder when he comes to examine the adaptation of these creatures to their modes of life. The ingenuity of contrivance, in giving strength, yet lightness, to the frame of the bird, is perhaps unequalled in the whole compass of animated nature. Nor are the feathered races less interesting to common observers. They are associated in the mind with all that is romantic and beautiful in scenery. Their mysterious emigrations, at stated seasons, from land to land; their foresight of calm and storm; their melody and beauty; and that wonderful construction by which some of them are fitted for land and air, and others for swimming, – these contribute to render them an unfailing source of interest to mankind at large.
The birds are divided into six orders, under each of which we shall notice a few of the more prominent species.
The Condor. – This is not only the largest of vultures, but the largest known bird of flight. It is common in the regions of the Andes, in South America, and is occasionally found as far north as the Rocky Mountains of the United States. Nuttall gives us the following characteristic sketch of this fierce and formidable bird: —
"A pair of condors will attack a cougar, a deer, or a llama: pursuing it for a long time, they will occasionally wound it with their bills and claws, until the unfortunate animal, stifled, and overcome with fatigue, extends its tongue and groans; on which occasion the condor seizes this member, being a very tender and favorite morsel, and tears out the eyes of its prey, which at length falls to the earth and expires. The greedy bird then gorges himself, and rests, in stupidity and almost gluttonous inebriation, upon the highest neighboring rocks. He can then be easily taken, as he is so gorged that he cannot fly."
Vultures in Africa.– Mr. Pringle describes these birds as follows: "They divide with the hyænas the office of carrion scavengers; and the promptitude with which they discover and devour every dead carcass is truly surprising. They also instinctively follow any band of hunters, or party of men travelling, especially in solitary places, wheeling in circles high in the air, ready to pounce down upon any game that may be shot and not instantly secured, or the carcass of any ox, or other animal, that may perish on the road. In a field of battle, no one ever buries the dead; the vultures and beasts of prey relieve the living of that trouble."
Turkey Buzzard and Carrion Crow. – These are two small species of vulture, common in our Southern States, and may be often seen in the cities, prowling for such offals as may fall in their way. Wilson furnishes us with the following sketch: "Went out to Hampstead this forenoon. A horse had dropped down in the street, in convulsions; and dying, it was dragged out to Hampstead, and skinned. The ground, for a hundred yards beyond it, was black with carrion crows; many sat on the tops of sheds, fences, and houses within sight; sixty or eighty in the opposite side of a small run. I counted, at one time, two hundred and thirty-seven; but I believe there were more, besides several in the air over my head, and at a distance. I ventured cautiously within thirty yards of the carcass, which three or four dogs, and twenty or thirty vultures, were busily tearing and devouring. Seeing them take no notice, I ventured nearer, till I was within ten yards, and sat down on the bank. On observing that they did not heed me, I stole so close that my feet were within one yard of the horse's legs, and I again sat down. They all slid aloof a few feet; but seeing me quiet, they soon returned as before. As they were often disturbed by the dogs, I ordered the latter home: my voice gave no alarm to the vultures. As soon as the dogs departed, the vultures crowded in such numbers, that I counted, at one time, thirty-seven on and around the carcass, with several within; so that scarcely an inch of it was visible."