SHORT-HAIRED TABBY.
This is perhaps the most famous cat now living. It has won no less than 200 prizes. Lady Decies is its owner.
The nearest to perfection perhaps, and yet at the same time extremely soft and finely made, is the Blue Cat, rare in England as an English cat, but common in most other countries, and called in America the Maltese Cat—for fashion's sake probably, since it is too widely distributed there to be localised as of foreign origin. It is out in the mining districts and agricultural quarters, right away from the beaten tracks of humanity, where the most wonderful breeds of cats develop in America; and caravan showmen have told me that at one time it was quite a business for them to carry cats into these wildernesses, and sell them to rough, hardy miners, who dealt out death to each other without hesitation in a quarrel, but who softened to the appeal of an animal which reminded them of homelier times.
One man told me that upon one occasion he sold eight cats at an isolated mining township in Colorado, and some six days' journey farther on he was caught up by a man on horseback from the township, who had ridden hard to overtake the menagerie caravan, with the news that one of the cats had climbed a monster pine-tree, and that all the other cats had followed in his wake; food and drink had been placed in plenty at the foot of the tree, but that the cats had been starving, frightened out of their senses, for three days, and despite all attempts to reach them they had only climbed higher and higher out of reach into the uppermost and most dangerous branches of the pine. The showman hastened with his guide across country to the township, only to find that in the interval one bright specimen of a man belonging to the village had suggested felling the tree, and so rescuing the cats from the pangs of absolute starvation, should they survive the ordeal. A dynamite cartridge had been used to blast the roots of the pine, and a rope attached to its trunk had done the rest and brought the monster tree to earth, only, however, at the expense of all the cats, for not one survived the tremendous fall and shaking. A sad and tearful procession followed the remains of the cats to their hastily dug grave, and thereafter a bull mastiff took the place of the cats in the township, an animal more in character with the lives of its inhabitants.
Photo by E. Landor] [Ealing.
LONG-HAIRED ORANGE.
A good specimen of this variety is always large and finely furred.
Analogous to this case of the travelling menageries, we have the great variety of blues, silvers, and whites which are characteristic of Russia. There is a vast tableland of many thousands of miles in extent, intersected by caravan routes to all the old countries of the ancients, and it is not astonishing to hear of attempts being made to steal the wonderful cats of Persia, China, and Northern India, as well as those of the many dependent and independent tribes which bound the Russian kingdom. But it is a remarkable fact that none but the blues can live in the attenuated atmosphere of the higher mountainous districts through which they are taken before arriving in Russian territory. It is no uncommon thing to find a wonderful complexity of blue cats shading to silver and white in most Russian villages, or blue cats of remarkable beauty, but with a dash of tabby-marking running through their coats. Their life, too, is lived at the two extremes. In the short Russian summer they roam the woodlands, pestered by a hundred poisonous insects; in the winter they are imprisoned within the four walls of a snow-covered cottage, and are bound down prisoners to domesticity till the thaw sets in again. Many of the beautiful furs which come to us from Russia are really the skins of these cats, the preparation of which for market has grown into a large and thriving industry. The country about Kronstadt, in the Southern Carpathian Mountains of Austria, is famous for its finely developed animals; and here, too, has grown up a colony of sable-coloured cats, said to be of Turkish origin, where the pariahs take the place of cats.
