Fritz.—What a frightful idea! I can scarcely believe the account, father: but this is enough on the chapter of ants. You mentioned just now, that in each class of the animal creation there were some individuals to be found which formed themselves into societies; pray tell me which they are.

Father.—I know of no instance among birds, but that we have just been witnessing; but among quadrupeds there is at least one striking example of the social principle:—try to recollect it yourself.

Fritz.—It is perhaps the elephant or the sea-otter?

Father.—You have not guessed the one I thought of: in reality, however, the animals you have named discover also a strong disposition to live in society with their species, but they build nothing like a common house of reception:—try again; when you mentioned the sea-otter, you were not far from the right creature.

Fritz.—Ah, now I have found it: is it not the beaver, father? These animals are said to possess so much intelligence, that they are able to contrive and place dams to such streams or rivers as obstruct their design of building entire villages: by this operation they are furnished with a sort of ditch, which they use for their purpose.

Father.—This is well observed; and, strictly speaking, the marmoset also may be included in the number of sociable quadrupeds: but these latter cannot be said to build, in the literal sense of the word; they dig themselves a common place of abode, a sort of cavern, in the mountains, and in these whole families of them pass the winter comfortably, in a continual sleep. It would have been more blameable in us to have forgotten them, as they are natives of our country; for it is principally in the highest Alps of Switzerland that the animal is found.

We had proceeded a considerable way in this kind of conversation, and had reached a wood, the trees of which were unknown to us: they in a small degree resembled the wild fig-tree; at least the fruit they bore, like the fig, was round in form, and contained a soft juicy substance full of small grains: there was, however, a sharpness and sourness in the taste. We took a nearer view of these trees, so remarkable for their height, which was from forty to sixty feet: the bark of the trunk was prickly or scaly, like the pine-apple, and wholly bare of branches, except at the very top, where they are loaded with them; some growing straight, and others bent in different directions. The leaves of these trees, at the extremity of the branches, are very thick; in substance, tough, like leather; and their upper and under surfaces presented different tints. But what surprised us the most, was a kind of gum, or bituminous matter, which appeared by some accidental means to issue in a liquid state from the trunk of the tree, and to become immediately hardened by the air. This discovery awakened Fritz’s whole attention: in Europe he had often made use of the gum produced by cherry-trees, either as a cement or varnish in the process of some of his youthful occupations; and the thought struck him, that he could do the same with what he now saw. He accordingly collected with his knife a certain quantity.

As we continued walking, he looked frequently at his gum, which he tried to soften with his breath, or with the heat of his hand, as he had been accustomed to do with that from the cherry-trees; but he found he could not succeed. On the other hand, his endeavours revealed a still more singular property in the substance, that of stretching considerably on being pulled by the two hands at its extremities; and, on letting go, of reducing itself instantly, by the power of an elastic principle. He was struck with surprise at this phenomenon, and sprang towards me, repeating the experiment before my eyes, and exclaiming, Look, father! if this is not the very kind of Indian rubber we formerly used, to rub out the bad strokes in our drawings: see! I can stretch it, and it instantly shrinks back when I let go.

Ah! what do you tell me? cried I with joy: such a discovery would be an invaluable benefit. The best thanks of all will be due to you, if you have discovered the true caoutchouc tree which yields the Indian rubber. Quick, hand it here, that I may examine it.

Fritz.—Look, father, how it will stretch! But I do not however understand how it can be so immensely valuable to us: can it be made to serve any other purpose than rubbing out a pencil mark? Nor am I quite sure that it is the very same ingredient. Why is it not black, like that we used in Europe?