a degree that musk, with the help of brimstone and tar burnt, will not expel it in six months. The bladder in which this essence lies is worked by the animal like an engine, pump, or squirt; and when the creature is assaulted, he turns his head from his enemy and discharges from his tail the essence, which fills the neighbouring air with a mist that destroys the possibility of living in it. I have seen a large house-dog, by one discharge of the skunk, retire with shame and sickness; and, at another time, a bullock bellowing as if a dog had held him by the nose. Were it not for man, no creature could kill this animal, which, instead of the lion, ought to be crowned king of animals, as well on account of his virtues and complaisance as his courage. He knows his forte; he fears nothing, he conquers all; yet he is civil to all, and never gives, as he will not take, offence. His virtues are many. The wood of calambac, which cures fainting-fits and strokes of the palsy, and is worth its weight in gold, is far less valuable than the above-mentioned essence of this animal. The bag is extracted whole from the tail, and the essence preserved in glass; nothing else will confine it. One drop sufficiently impregnates a quart of spring water, and half a gill of water thus impregnated is a dose. It cures hiccups, asthmatic, hysteric, paralytic, and hectic disorders, and the odour prevents faintness. The flesh of this animal is excellent food, and its oil cures sprains and contractions of the sinews.
The feathered tribe in Connecticut are the turkey, geese, ducks, and all kinds of barn-door poultry; innumerable flocks of pigeons, which fly to the south in the autumn; cormorants of all sizes; hawks, owls, ravens,
and crows; partridges, quails, heath-hen, blackbirds, snipes, larks, humility’s, whippoorwills, dew-minks, robins, wrens, swallows, sparrows, the flax, crimson, white, and blue birds, &c. &c.; to which I may add the humming-bird, though it might wantonly be styled the empress of the honey-bees, partaking with them of the pink, tulip, rose, daisy, and other aromatics.
The partridges in New-England are nearly as large as a Dorking fowl, the quail as an English partridge, and the robin twice as big as those in England. The dew-mink, so named from its articulating those syllables, is black and white, and the size of an English robin. Its flesh is delicious. The humility is so called because it speaks the word humility, and seldom mounts high in the air. Its legs are long enough to enable it to outrun a dog for a little way; its wings long and narrow; body maigre and of the size of a blackbird’s; plumage variegated with white, black, blue, and red. It lives on tadpoles, spawn, and worms; has an eye more piercing than the falcon, and the swiftness of an eagle; hence it can never be shot, for it sees the sparks of fire even before it enkindles the powder, and by the extreme rapidity of its flight gets out of reach in an instant. It is never known to light upon a tree, but is always seen upon the ground or wing. These birds appear in New-England in summer only; what becomes of them afterwards is not discovered. They are caught in snares, but can never be tamed.
The whippoorwill has so named itself by its nocturnal songs. It is also called the Pope, by reason of its darting with great swiftness from the clouds to the ground and bawling out Pope, which alarms young people
and the fanatics very much, especially as they know it to be an ominous bird. However, it has hitherto proved friendly, always giving travellers and others notice of an approaching storm by saluting them every minute by Pope! pope! It flies only a little before sunset, unless for this purpose of giving notice of a storm: It never deceives the people with false news. If the tempest is to continue long, the augurs appear in flocks, and nothing can be heard but Pope! pope! The whippoorwill is about the size of a cuckoo, has a short beak, long and narrow wings, a large head, and mouth enormous, yet is not a bird of prey. Under its throat is a pocket, which it fills with air at pleasure, whereby it sounds forth the fatal word Pope in the day, and Whip-her-I-will in the night. The superstitious inhabitants would have exorcised this harmless bird long ago, as an emissary from Rome and an enemy to the American Vine, had they not found out that it frequents New-England only in the summer, and prefers the wilderness to a palace. Nevertheless, many cannot but believe it a spy from some foreign court, an agent of antichrist, a lover of persecution, and an enemy of protestants, because it sings of whipping, and of the Pope, which they think portends misery and a change of religion.
The principal insects are the hornet, bull-fly, glow-bug, humble-bee, and black and yellow wasp.
The bull-fly is armed with a coat of mail, which it can move from one place to another, as sliders to a window are moved. Its body is about an inch long, and its horns half an inch, very sharp and strong. It has six feet, with claws as sharp as needles, and runs fast. In sucking the blood or juice of its prey, the creature
holds the same in its claws; otherwise the prey is carried between its horns.
The glow-bug both crawls and flies, and is about half an inch long. These insects fly, in the summer evenings, nearly seven feet from the ground, in such multitudes that they afford sufficient light for the people to walk by. The brightness, however, is interrupted by twinklings; but they are instantaneous and short as those of the eye, so that darkness no sooner takes place than it vanishes.