CHAPTER XXIII.

VULTURES.

THESE remarkable birds are universally disliked, and are regarded as loathsome and disgusting scavengers. Their wonderful habit of appearing almost suddenly in countless multitudes, upon a spot where a day or two, nay even an hour or two before, none could be seen or found, is well known. Aided by a powerful and wonderful vision, and sailing miles above the earth without apparent effort, in a circle of great diameter, in a clear unclouded atmosphere, this bird's sight, intent and keen, enables it to observe the changed and hurried movements of any others of his species which may be (as they nearly always are) in quest of food; and these, in turn, may be within sight of many others, that again have in view others still farther off, all making towards a spot where food is to be found. Whenever a movement is made towards the earth by one, the whole flock become instantly aware of it, and also of the direction taken: thus they concentrate in incalculable strength, in the same manner that thousands of people sometimes arrive on the field, at the descent of a balloon in a part of the country that the day before seemed almost uninhabited.

There are many queer sayings connected with these hungry and unscrupulous feeders, and they are regarded, by the natives of the countries in which they most abound, with feelings of reverence, totally at variance with the ideas of more civilised people. The Indians of Dutch Guiana have full belief in the wisdom of the black vultures, which are so numerous in those parts of the world. These birds, they say, give them information of the places where the turtles have buried their eggs, by walking about and scratching with their bills

on the sand. Upon Upon seeing these indications the Indians dig out the eggs, and the vultures are rewarded by the broken ones that are sure to be left.

Experience may have taught the Indians and the vultures the same lesson. The vulture's keen sight probably detects the spot on the sand that has been disturbed during the night, and in endeavouring to scratch them out, attracts the attention of the Indian. He, taking advantage of the opportunity, helps himself, leaves a few broken eggs to the original finder, and attributes all this to a much better feeling or understanding between the birds and himself than ever existed. At any rate, the Indian has much respect for these birds, and will not allow them to be destroyed without entering a strong protest in their favour. He has many superstitious and strange notions with reference to the vultures. Some persons assert that these birds are not produced, like other birds, from eggs; they are led to this belief by finding, at all times and seasons, vast multitudes of birds who never nest or appear to breed, and their manner of increase is to them a mystery. The fact is, the nesting-places exist, but are unknown to these people. The larger species of vultures are formidable-looking birds, but are not naturally inclined to attack living animals; though, if incautiously handled, they inflict severe and dangerous wounds.

How is it that they live, and are strong and healthy, when they feed in and breathe poisonous and pestilential air, and are nourished by the most abominable and apparently unwholesome food? Do they ascend into the cold pure air to rid themselves of the foul gases generated in their bodies, and thus regenerate the blood to give the strength required for the duties of their degraded office? Why not? Do not the unfortunate dwellers in towns go to the seaside for change of air, to enable them to continue their struggle for life?

The means by which these large and powerful birds

rest in the air has formed the subject of frequent discussions, and much has been said to account for the easy and long-continued gliding without the slightest motion of, or flapping or beating with, the wings, these being simply spread open to the fullest extent. The most reasonable explanation of this wonderful power, is found in the examination of the air-cells that exist throughout the entire structure, not only in the bones, but among the muscles and between the tissues of the skin and feathers. When the bird rises to a great height, where the atmosphere becomes cold, the temperature of his body is much higher than that of the surrounding air; he fills, therefore, or rather inflates, the whole of the air-cells throughout his body, by the hot air that has passed through his lungs before it can reach the aircells in the body: thus the condors, or other large vultures, become like air-balloons, and float about, requiring only a slight motion of the tail to steer, rudderlike, in any direction.

When the bird wishes to rest on the earth, its appearance at once alters: the wings are no longer on full stretch, but, by the contraction of the muscles of the wings and body, the hot air is expelled, and the bird descends with rather a rapid, but graceful and easy, movement of the wings, and alights without appearing to drop heavily to the ground. The detection of the spot where food is to be found is no longer considered, by the best authorities in these matters, to depend upon the sense of smell: sight alone is thought to be the agent. Vultures lay but one or two eggs, and yet the number of these birds is legion. It is a curious and noteworthy fact, that the species of birds that are most abundant are those that lay the fewest eggs at each sitting.-Land and Water.

CHAPTER XXIV.

SNAP.

My father was very particular about his horses, and even more so about his dogs. He always had four or five fine creatures of different breeds, one of which deserves a brief notice; this was a cross between an Irish mastiff and a large foxhound, both thoroughbred. From the first, this dog promised to become famous and he did not disappoint that promise. My father took some pains to educate him, and to develope the good and suppress any bad qualities that might appear in him. He was called Snap; and no dog, I may safely say, ever took training more quickly. He grew up rapidly, and was what may be emphatically called "a knowing dog." His sagacity was somewhat more than canine, but I am at a loss for a proper name to give it; it was only a little less than human. He seemed to know everything, and understood what was said to him with a degree of intelligence that was more than wonderfulit was almost incredible.

If any one in the neighbourhood exhibited dulness of comprehension, it was a saying amongst the people: Why, Mr. Redford's Snap would understand it" (whatever was meant) "better than you." Snap grew up a noble dog; he was so big and strong, that I have seen him gallop along our orchard hundreds of times with a boy ten or twelve years old on his back; and of this sort of exercise he was remarkably fond. He soon became a favourite with young and old. Every one knew Snap, and Snap knew every one in return; every one loved Snap, and Snap returned the affection.

There were seven large farmhouses within rifle-shot of our domicile, and no policeman (had there been such a functionary in existence at the time) could have

guarded these homesteads at night better than Snap did. He became one of the most extraordinary and vigilant "watchmen" that could be imagined. He spent his nights in going from one house to another, and his trot was well-known and welcomed everywhere; for although some houses farther off had been robbed, no burglar dared to venture on Snap's beat, and all was quite secure in his keeping. The houses were protected from robbers, and the hen-roosts from foxes and other nocturnal depredators.

The following was an extraordinary incident in the life of poor Snap, and caused, when it became known, quite a sensation in the locality, and wonderfully increased Snap's popularity. A gentleman, who resided about half a mile off, had invited all his neighbours to what is well known as a "harvest home "—that is, a merry-making, at the conclusion of the gathering-in of his crops for the season. At a short distance from our house resided a wealthy farmer, and he, with all his family except his wife, attended the feast, which, of course, was held in the evening and continued (as the custom was, and is still) into the night, or rather till next morning.

The farmer's wife refused the invitation, on the alleged ground of illness; but the real motive that kept her at home was, that in the house at the time there was a large sum of money, and she did not wish to leave the place without some person in it. The servants were all absent, and she promised to wait up until some of them returned; with this view she took up a position at the kitchen-fire, the apartment being a large oldfashioned but very comfortable one on the ground-floor. She found, after some time, that Snap had taken up a place in the chimney-corner, and although several efforts were made by her to put him out, he resisted; but his resistance was gentle, and he remained until the family returned home after daylight in the morning,