Illustrative Anecdotes of the Animal Kingdom

by Samuel G. Goodrich

Miscellaneous Anecdotes.—There was, in the year 1827, in a farm-house in England, a remarkable instance, not only of docility, but of usefulness, in a rat. It first devoured the mice which were caught in traps, and was afterwards seen to catch others as they ventured from their holes; till, at length, the whole house was cleared of these animals. From the services it rendered, the family kindly protected the rat, and it used to gambol about the house, and play with the children, without the least fear. It sometimes disappeared for a week or ten days at a time, but regularly returned to its abode.

During a dreadful storm in England, in 1829, a singular instance occurred of sagacity in a rat. The River Tyne was much swollen by the water, and numbers of people had assembled to gaze on the masses of hay it swept along in its irresistible course. A swan was at last observed, sometimes struggling for the land, at other times sailing majestically along with the torrent. When it drew near, a black spot was seen on its snowy plumage, and the spectators were greatly pleased to find that this was a live rat. It is probable that it had been borne from its domicile in some hayrick, and, observing the swan, had made for it as an ark of safety, in the hope of prolonging its life. When the swan at length reached the land, the rat leaped from his back, and scampered away, amid the shouts of the spectators.

A surgeon's mate on board a ship, in 1757, relates that, while lying one evening awake in his berth, he saw a rat come into the room, and, after surveying the place attentively, retreat with the utmost caution and silence. It soon returned, leading by the ear another rat, which it left at a small distance from the hole by which they entered. A third rat then joined them. The two then searched about, and picked up all the small scraps of biscuit; these they carried to the second rat, which seemed blind, and remained on the spot where they had left it, nibbling such fare as was brought to it by its kind providers, whom the mate supposed were its offspring.

A steward of a ship infested with rats used to play some lively airs on a flute after he had baited his traps and placed them near the rat-holes. The music attracted the rats, who entered the traps unconscious of that danger which, without that allurement, they would have instinctively avoided. In this manner the steward caught fifteen or twenty rats in three hours.

THE BEAVER.

There is but one species of this animal, which is found in the temperate regions of both continents. It spends a great part of its time in the water, where it constructs dams and builds huts of the branches of trees. It gnaws these asunder with wonderful dexterity, frequently cutting off a branch, the size of a walking-stick, with one effort. They live in families composed of from two to ten.

A tame Beaver.—Major Roderfort, of New York, had a tame beaver, which he kept in his house upwards of half a year, and allowed to run about like a dog. The cat belonging to the house had kittens, and she took possession of the beaver's bed, which he did not attempt to prevent. When the cat went out, the beaver would take one of the kittens between his paws, and hold it close to his breast to warm it, and treated it with much affection. Whenever the cat returned, he restored her the kitten.

Affection of the Beaver.—Two young beavers were taken alive some years ago, and carried to a factory near Hudson's Bay, where they grew very fast. One of them being accidentally killed, the survivor began to moan, abstained from food, and finally died in grief for the loss of its companion.

A tame Beaver in the Zoological Gardens of London.—"This animal arrived in England, in the winter of 1825, very young, being small and woolly, and without the covering of long hair which marks the adult beaver. It was the sole survivor of five or six, which were shipped at the same time, and was in a very pitiable condition. Good treatment soon made it familiar. When called by its name, 'Binny,' it generally answered with a little cry, and came to its owner. The hearth-rug was its favorite haunt, upon which it would lie stretched out, sometimes on its back, and sometimes flat on its belly, but always near its master. The building instinct showed itself immediately after it was let out of its cage, and materials were placed in its way,—and this before it had been a week in its new quarters. Its strength, even before it was half grown, was great. It would drag along a large sweeping-brush, or a warming-pan, grasping the handle with its teeth, so that the load came over its shoulder; it then advanced in an oblique direction, till it arrived at the point where it wished to place it. The long and large materials were always taken first; two of the longest were generally laid crosswise, with one of the ends of each touching the wall, and the other ends projecting out into the room. The area formed by the crossed brushes and the wall, he would fill up with hand-brushes, rush-baskets, books, boots, sticks, cloths, dried turf, or any thing portable. As the work grew high, he supported himself on his tail, which propped him up admirably; and he would often, after laying on one of his building materials, sit up over against it, apparently to consider his work, or, as the country people say, 'judge it.' This pause was sometimes followed by changing the position of the material 'judged,' and sometimes it was left in its place.

"After he had piled up his materials in one part of the room,—for he generally chose the same place,—he proceeded to wall up the space between the feet of a chest of drawers, which stood at a little distance from it, high enough on its legs to make the bottom a roof for him, using for this purpose dried turf and sticks, which he laid very even, and filling up the interstices with bits of coal, hay, cloth, or any thing he could pick up. This last place he seemed to appropriate for his dwelling; the former work seemed to be intended for a dam. When he had walled up the space between the feet of the chest of drawers, he proceeded to carry in sticks, clothes, hay, cotton, and to make a nest; and, when he had done, he would sit up under the drawers, and comb himself with the nails of his hind-feet. In this operation, that which appeared at first to be a malformation was shown to be a beautiful adaptation to the necessities of the animal. The huge webbed hind-feet often turn in, so as to give the appearance of deformities; but, if the toes were straight, instead of being incurved, the animal could not use them for the purpose of keeping its fur in order, and cleansing it from dirt and moisture. Binny generally carried small and light articles between his right fore-leg and his chin, walking on the other three legs; and large masses, which he could not grasp readily with his teeth, he pushed forwards, leaning against them with his right fore-paw and his chin. He never carried any thing on his tail, which he liked to dip in water, but he was not fond of plunging in his whole body. If his tail was kept moist, he never cared to drink; but if it was kept dry, it became hot, and the animal appeared distressed, and would drink a great deal. It is not impossible that the tail may have the power of absorbing water, like the skin of frogs; though it must be owned that the scaly integument which invests that member has not much of the character which generally belongs to absorbing surfaces. Bread, and bread and milk, and sugar, formed the principal part of Binny's food; but he was very fond of succulent fruits and roots. He was a most entertaining creature; and some highly comic scenes occurred between the worthy, but slow, beaver, and a light and airy macauco, that was kept in the same apartment."