Defence of Fort.
So much for attack; now for defence.
The simplest mode of defending a fort, or even a mountain pass, is by throwing or rolling rocks and heavy stones against the enemy.
Simple as it may appear, it is a very effective one, as can be well understood by those who have rolled a huge stone down a long and steep slope. The stone goes gently enough at first, but rapidly gains speed, until at last it makes great bounds from the earth, tearing and crashing through everything as if it had been shot from a cannon.
I have seen a stone which was too heavy to be lifted, and had to be prised over the edge with levers, spring completely through the topmost branches of a high tree, scattering the boughs in all directions, and then, alighting on another stone, split into many fragments, just like the pieces of a burst shell. That one stone would have swept off a whole party of soldiers had they encountered it while trying to ascend the slope.
This invention has also been anticipated in Nature.
Putting aside the obvious reflection that the most primitive warriors must have noticed the effects of stones falling over a precipice, we have, in Captain Hall’s “Life with the Esquimaux,” a curious account of the Polar Bear and its mode of killing the Walrus. Gigantic as is this animal, and terrible as are its tusks, the Polar Bear will sometimes attack it in a very singular manner. The Bear springs on a sleeping Walrus, and clings to its shoulders with one paw, and with repeated blows from the other, fractures its skull.
Still, the combat is sure to be a severe one, and so the Polar Bear will, if he can, secure his prey by some other method.
“The natives tell many most interesting anecdotes of the Bear, showing that they are accustomed to watch his movements closely. He has a very ingenious method of killing the Walrus.
“In August, every fine day, the Walrus makes its way to the shore, draws its huge body upon the rocks, and basks in the sun. If this happen near the base of a cliff, the ever-watchful Bear takes advantage of the circumstance to attack his formidable game in this way. The Bear mounts the cliff, and throws down upon the animal’s head a large rock, calculating the distance and the curve with astonishing accuracy, and thus crushing the thick, bullet-proof skull.
“If the Walrus is not instantly killed, or simply stunned, the Bear rushes down to it, seizes the rock, and hammers away at the head until the skull is broken. A fat feast follows. Unless the Bear is very hungry, it eats only the blubber of the walrus, seal, and whale.”