But this industrious man had long been the wonder of the commune. One of his performances, that almost exceeds belief, was the removal, in 1796, of an immense block of marble, and the working it into a millstone for crushing walnuts. The block had fallen into the valley, about three hundred yards from his mill. He had often viewed it with a wishful eye, but to remove it seemed beyond his power; he was, however, then in the vigour of life, and he resolved to attempt it. He began by cutting the stone into a proper form, which was a labour of many months; when this was done, by the aid of his wife, his mother, and his servant boy, and with some miserable pulleys, he contrived, for several successive weeks, to move it a few inches, or a few yards every day, according to the nature of the ground, till at length he brought it safely within his mill. It is about nine feet in diameter, and three feet in thickness; and cannot weigh less than fourteen tons, as it contains about 189 cubic feet of marble. The removal of this huge stone, with the very slender means by which it was accomplished, is a striking instance of what labour can effect, by unremitted perseverance.
In the winter which followed the last inundation, his wife observed steam constantly rising from the opposite bank of the river, and, on going to the spot, she found a considerable spring of hot water, which being examined, and found to be mineral, baths were established there. Mr. Bakewell adds, that being desirous that this industrious miller should derive some advantage from his wife’s discovery, he recommended his keeping mules to let out to the bathers, and cows to supply them with milk, during the season. With these suggestions he was much pleased, and should he adopt them, it will be equally advantageous to visiters at the baths as to himself, as there was neither horse nor mule to be hired in the place; and in the summer months, as all the cattle are pastured in the mountains, milk can be procured only once or twice a-week.
Oct. 1st.—I have just read such a pretty description of the humming-bird, that I must copy it for Marianne: it is from Buffon, who calls this bird l’Oiseau Mouche. “Of all animated beings,” he says, “it is the most elegant in form, and the most brilliant in colours—our precious stones cannot be compared in lustre to this jewel of Nature, who has bestowed on it all the gifts which she has only shared amongst other birds. Lightness, swiftness, grace, and the most splendid clothing, all belong to this little favourite.
“The emerald, the ruby, and the topaz, sparkle in its plumage, which it never defiles with the dust of the earth; and scarcely even deigns to touch the green turf for a moment. It is always on the wing, fluttering from flower to flower, and possesses their freshness as well as their brilliancy—it lives on their nectar, and only inhabits those climates where flowers never cease to bloom.
“It is in the warmest regions of the New World, that all the species known of these birds are found; for those which advance in summer to the temperate zones, only remain there a short time. They seem to follow the sun, to advance and retire with him; and to fly on the wings of Zephyr in the train of an eternal spring.”
I thought we had in Brazil the smallest humming-birds that were known; but I have read in Mr. Bullock’s very entertaining book, that he procured one in Jamaica, that was less than even some species of the bee. It had taken its station on a large tamarind tree, which was close to the house, and overspread part of the yard; there it spent most of the day, and kept absolute possession of its dominions; for, the moment any other bird, though ten times larger than itself, approached the tree, it furiously attacked and drove off the intruder; always returning to the same twig, which it had worn quite bare, by continually perching on the same spot.
Mr. Bullock observed these birds feeding on insects,—which contradicts the general idea that they live only on the honey of flowers.—When he was in Mexico, one of them took possession of a pomegranate-tree, and sat on it the whole day catching the flies that came into the flowers; and on dissection he has found other insects in their stomach. Though naturally petulant, and very tenacious of intrusion, they seldom quarrel in captivity; for example, when a great blue-throated humming-bird occupied the perch, he has seen the diminutive Mexican star settle on its beak, and quietly remain there for some instants, without the insult having been resented. In the air, indeed, they fight desperately till one falls, and Mr. Bullock witnessed a battle in heavy rain, every drop of which he thought would have been sufficient to beat the little combatants to the ground.
They are still worn by the Mexican ladies as ornaments for the ears; and their name in the Indian language signifies “Beams, or locks of the sun.”—But he says, what is very true, indeed, that the stuffed humming-birds can give but little idea of their real brilliancy; for the sides of the fibres of each feather being of a different colour from the surface, the least motion of the bird continually changes the hue. For example, the topaz-throated humming-bird of Nootka Sound is ever varying from a vivid fire colour to the bright green of the emerald.
They are very cunning little things; the house in which Mr. B. lived was of one story, inclosing a garden round which it was built. The spiders had spread their numerous webs from the tiles of the projecting roof, to the trees in the garden, so closely, that they resembled a net. The humming-birds endeavoured to seize on the entangled flies; but, afraid of entangling their own wings, and perhaps a little alarmed by those great spiders, they would fly rapidly round and round, as if to reconnoitre the best avenue; then darting in, they picked out the smallest fly, and escaped without touching a single thread.
I was surprised to find that some of these birds were found as far north as Nootka Sound; and I asked my aunt if she thought there was any mistake in the name of the place. She said, that though the winters are very severe in that part of America, the summer is extremely hot; and she added that an intimate friend in Upper Canada, with whom she corresponds, mentions the humming-birds as being constant visiters in summer. I had not before heard that she had a correspondent there. How interesting, said I, her letters must be from those frozen regions, where everything is so different from the part of America in which I have lived!