• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Half Title
 Frontispiece
 Title Page
 Copyright
 Preface
 Table of Contents
 Main
 Back Cover
 Spine






Group Title: The Romance of adventure, or, True tales of enterprise : for the instruction and amusement of the young
Title: The Romance of adventure, or, True tales of enterprise
CITATION THUMBNAILS PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00002059/00001
 Material Information
Title: The Romance of adventure, or, True tales of enterprise for the instruction and amusement of the young ; illustrated with engravings
Alternate Title: True tales of enterprise
Physical Description: 312 p., <4> leaves of plates : ill. ; 18 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Campbell, O. R ( Oswald R. ) ( Engraver )
Dalziel Brothers ( Engraver )
G. Routledge & Co ( Publisher )
Cox (Bros.) and Wyman ( Printer )
Leighton Son & Hodge ( Binder )
Publisher: George Routledge and Co.
Place of Publication: London
Manufacturer: Cox (Brothers and Syman
Publication Date: 1852
 Subjects
Subject: Voyages and travels -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Adventure and adventurers -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Heroes -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Travelogue storybooks -- 1852   ( local )
Leighton Son & Hodge -- Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding) -- 1852   ( rbbin )
Leighton Son & Hodge -- Binders' tickets (Binding) -- 1852   ( rbbin )
Bldn -- 1852
Genre: Travelogue storybooks   ( local )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding)   ( rbbin )
Binders' tickets (Binding)   ( rbbin )
non-fiction   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
 Notes
General Note: Plates signed O.R. Campbell and Dalziel.
Funding: Brittle Books Program
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00002059
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002236737
oclc - 45839364
notis - ALH7215
 Related Items
Other version: Alternate version (PALMM)
PALMM Version

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front page 1
        Front page 2
        Front page 3
        Front page 4
    Half Title
        Front page 5
    Frontispiece
        Front page 6
        Front page 7
        Front page 8
    Title Page
        Front page 9
    Copyright
        Front page 10
    Preface
        Front page 11
        Front page 12
    Table of Contents
        Front page 13
        Front page 14
    Main
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81a
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155a
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
        Page 166
        Page 167
        Page 168
        Page 169
        Page 170
        Page 171
        Page 172
        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
        Page 181
        Page 182
        Page 183
        Page 184
        Page 185
        Page 186
        Page 187
        Page 188
        Page 189
        Page 190
        Page 191
        Page 192
        Page 193
        Page 194
        Page 195
        Page 196
        Page 197
        Page 198
        Page 199
        Page 200
        Page 201
        Page 202
        Page 203
        Page 204
        Page 205
        Page 206
        Page 207
        Page 208
        Page 209
        Page 210
        Page 211
        Page 212
        Page 213
        Page 214
        Page 215
        Page 216
        Page 217
        Page 218
        Page 219
        Page 220
        Page 221
        Page 222
        Page 223
        Page 224
        Page 225
        Page 226
        Page 227
        Page 228
        Page 229
        Page 230
        Page 231
        Page 232
        Page 233
        Page 234
        Page 235
        Page 236
        Page 237
        Page 238
        Page 239
        Page 240
        Page 241
        Page 242
        Page 243
        Page 244
        Page 245
        Page 246
        Page 247
        Page 248
        Page 249
        Page 250
        Page 251
        Page 252
        Page 253a
        Page 253
        Page 254
        Page 255
        Page 256
        Page 257
        Page 258
        Page 259
        Page 260
        Page 261
        Page 262
        Page 263
        Page 264
        Page 265
        Page 266
        Page 267
        Page 268
        Page 269
        Page 270
        Page 271
        Page 272
        Page 273
        Page 274
        Page 275
        Page 276
        Page 277
        Page 278
        Page 279
        Page 280
        Page 281
        Page 282
        Page 283
        Page 284
        Page 285
        Page 286
        Page 287
        Page 288
        Page 289
        Page 290
        Page 291
        Page 292
        Page 293
        Page 294
        Page 295
        Page 296
        Page 297
        Page 298
        Page 299
        Page 300
        Page 301
        Page 302
        Page 303
        Page 304
        Page 305
        Page 306
        Page 307
        Page 308
        Page 309
        Page 310
        Page 311
        Page 312
        Page 313
    Back Cover
        Page 314
        Page 315
    Spine
        Page 316
Full Text





4














S1/..


,- /
^

1 '
AJ 9


/9~


z


7 e l


If


loo-
(XOooz?


I


~ / Z
L





I

































i
t

i

;


j



j











I


i
















ROMANCE OF ADVENTURE,
4c. -c.




















































~3 7-








/




















L ~ a- '~~rrer


P ~S
i `\\\
I
Ir i
--\**\Y ~
S~

3\




r .
i `i

\ 'r

r\
``
"`


4


\NIZ -~ --
~-~"Ur` ,h

"~5~~
c
/
~vJ j
--T-
_

/r.
Nll'
'r
M;v ."
i:

i


The Wolf of Gevauden.


p. 3.


v




THE


V T' ADVENTURE;






L* S i RPIR ISE.






;UCTJ" i NT (TV TY L YnUNG.


L TiA I WIJ.Th 1: \ RA 'N (I'S.



I

EOhurii ROUTLDUE AM) CO., FARRINGDON STREET.
1852.



























































































The Wolf of Gevauden.


p. 3.





THE


ROMANCE OF ADVENTURE;


OR,



TRUE TALES OF ENTERPRISE.



FOR THE


INSTRUCTION AND AMUSEMENT OF THE YOUNG.




ILLUSTRATED WITH ENGRAVINGS.




LONDON:

GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND CO., FARRINGDON STREET.
1852.










































PRINTED BY

COX (BROTHERS) AND WYMAN, GREAT QUEEN STREET,
LINCOLN'S-INN FIELDS.












PREFACE.



WITH scarcely an exception, the tales related in
the following pages are true. It has been the aim of
the author, whilst contributing to the healthy grati-
fication of that love of adventure which most young
persons feel, at the same time to render his volume
the vehicle of much and varied information, respecting
the great phenomena of nature, and the many lands
and modes of life which recent enterprise has helped
to illustrate. It has been his care, moreover, not
merely to use such materials only as were true in
point of fact, but rigidly to exclude whatever might
prove injurious in its influence on the character of
the young. The vicious great have not been held up
to admiration, nor the veil of romance thrown over
anything really unworthy. It is hoped, indeed, that
the most lasting impressions, produced by the perusal
of such adventures as the following, will conduce to a
better appreciation of the many strange and beautiful
things which God has made the earth to abound
with, and a desire to emulate the many high qualities
of perseverance, endurance, and generous self-denial,
which fit man to hold dominion over it, and which
constitute true HEroIsm.




















CONTENTS.




The Lion-Slayer ........ ..................... Page 1
St. Jean d'Acres: a page from the History of the Crusades.. 24
Passages in the Life of Narciso Lopez ................ 40
The Conspirators of Nepaul............................ 50
Anecdotes of the Forest and the Chase ................ 58
Yarns of the Whaling Service......................... 76
A Californian Execution ...................... ... 95
A Sketch on the Coast of Central America................. 100
The Bear-Tamer of the Kaatskills ................... 111
Anecdotes of Maritime Adventure ................ 120
Philosophers' Perils in Mid-Air ....................... 166
A Visit to the Mammoth Cave of Kentucky .............. 177
Scenes and Traditions of Island Life in the Pacific ........ 188
Recent Ascents of Mont Blanc ...................... 203
Ascent of Popocatepetl...... .................... 213
Wrecks in the Naval Service ...................... 218
A Trip to the Ophir Mines ........................... 230
A Gold-Seeker in California ........................ 245
The Hartz Mountains .............. ............. 257
A Passage of Life in Texas ..................... .... 267
My First and Last Chamois Hunt .................... 275
A Race in the Bahamas .............................. 288
An Hour on Lake St. Peter ......................... 292
A Steamer in a Typhoon....... .................. 301
A Leap for Life................................. 305
The Explorer of Nineveh ...... .................. 308
















ROMANCE OF ADVENTURE.



THE LION-SLAYER.
ALL countries have, at some period in their earlier
history, been infested with savage beasts, whose fero-
city has made them the terror of society, and who
have indiscriminately preyed upon man and his do-
mestic herds. The wild boar and the wolf were for
many centuries the scourge of Europe, and neither of
these fierce creatures is yet wholly extirpated. Wolves
were for the most part destroyed in England in the
days of King Edward the First, who offered a hand-
some price for their heads,* But in France and some
of the other continental countries they continued to
make fearful depredations until a very recent period;
nor have they to this day altogether disappeared,
whilst in Sweden and Norway they still strike terror
into the heart of the unlucky traveller who chances to
cross their track.
The memory of the She-wolf of Gevaudan still sur-
vives in France, and many a tale is told by the peasant's
fireside of the ravages she committed, and the fruit.
less efforts that were long made to hunt her'down.
Soldiers and citizens, natives and foreigners, marched
together against the common enemy, who always left
behind her a track of blood.
The last wolf known in England was killed by Sir Evan
Cameron, in the year 1686. Wolves were seen in Ireland as late
as 1710.





2 THE LION-SLAYEE.
Amongst other renowned hunters who presented
themselves at Gevaudan, to do battle with this savage
creature, may be mentioned the Baron d'Esneval, lord
of Pavilly, a gentleman of Normandy, skilled in all the
exercises of the chase, and especially in wolf-hunting.
He was accompanied by a large retinue of trained
dogs, but they did not succeed in approaching the
beast sufficiently close for an attack. Before the
arrival of the baron, there had been, on the 7th of
March, 1765, a general hunt, in which seventy-three
parishes of Gevaudan, and thirty of Auvergne and
Rouergue, forming a body of about twenty thousand
hunters, headed by the deputies, consuls, and principal
inhabitants of the provinces, put themselves in pursuit
of the monster, many of them following her to a great
distance by the help of the traces she had left in the
snow; but she found shelter in the midst of dense
forests, and so escaped them.
The Wolf of Gevaudan had destroyed at least two
hundred victims, and a price was put upon her head.
The king promised a reward of two thousand crowns
to any one who should slay her. On the 12th of
January she attacked five little boys belonging to the
village of Villeret, three of them about eleven years
old, and the others eight, and two young girls about
the same age. These children, who were engaged in
watching flocks of sheep, were each armed with a
wooden staff, pointed with an iron spike. The wolf
came on them by surprise, and they immediately drew
together, and put themselves in an attitude of defence.
The monster ran round the group two or three times,
and then threw herself upon one of the youngest
boys, whom she seized by the shoulders, and bore
away in her jaws. One of the little party, stricken
with terror, proposed to the rest that they should take
the opportunity of escaping whilst the wolf was occu-
pied in devouring their poor companion. "That
would be cowardice," replied the biggest of the boys;
"let us save our comrade, or else let us perish with







him!" The valour of the brave lad inspired the
children. They pursued the monster, who fled before
them with her prey, until she came to a swamp, where
the soil was so soft that she sank in it to her belly.
Boldly coming up to her (their weight being so much
lighter, they did not sink in the marsh as she did), and
finding they could not penetrate her tough skin with
their little spears, they tried to wound her in the head,
and especially in the eyes ; and directed their weapons
against her great mouth, which she held constantly
open. All this time the wolf held the little boy under
her heavy paws, but had no time to devour him, being
too much occupied with the incessant blows of her
assailants. By dint of perseverance and courage, these
brave children so harassed the monster that she was
glad at last to abandon her prey, and the poor little
fellow escaped without any other injury than a wound
in the arm, where the wolf had seized him, and some
slight scratches on the face. As a reward for his
conduct on this occasion, Louis the Fifteenth made a
present of four hundred francs to Portefaix, the hero
of eleven years!
In those days even, when the pursuits of the chase
were followed much more ardently than now, and
every baron and country gentleman maintained a large
hunting equipage, the bravest men shrank from single-
handed encounters with any of these beasts of prey.
Every dragon did not call forth a St. George. The
appearance of a wolf was sufficient to throw a whole
province into a state of dismay; and, as we have seen,
a large armed party,-in numbers sufficient, in fact, to
constitute an army,-went out, headed by the local
authorities, to do battle with the foe.
If such was the consternation produced by the
descent of a wolf into a European village, we may
judge of the dismay occasioned by the appearance of a
huge famished lion, come down from the Atlas moun-
tains in search of prey, in the midst of an Arab
encampment in Algeria.
B2


3


THE LION-SLAER.Y






4 THE LION-SLAYER.
The people of India, Turkey, and Arabia, who
profess the Mohammedan faith, are fatalists; that is,
they believe that everything that will happen to them
has been decreed beforehand by God, and that it is
therefore useless to resist misfortune, or in other
words, to contend against fate. Clinging to this creed,
they are naturally indolent, and comparatively help-
less. They sink, whenever circumstances permit, into
habits of voluptuousness, and endeavour to fill up life
with as much enjoyment and as little exertion as
possible. They are alike fanatics and cowards. With-
out energy to contend against a sudden danger, their
chief virtues are submission and resignation. Thus,
at the appearance of a royal tiger in India, the popu-
lation will retreat before him, abandoning their houses
and harvests; and in Africa the Arab trembles when
he hears the roaring of the lion,-resistance is too
frequently not thought of; one hides himself, and
another flies, and the monster reigns, a terror and
scourge.
Such are the people amongst whom the hero of our
story, Gerard the Lion-Slayer, has won his laurels,-
a man of slight and delicate frame, but an iron heart,
-poor in his fortunes and simple in his habits as the
Arab of the desert; like him living on nuts and dates;
drinking from the same springs as the lion whose steps
he tracks; exposing himself voluntarily to a thousand
dangers, that he may be able to brave a peril greater
than all; and this without noise or e'clat, but with
an unassuming modesty, that is the invariable accom-
paniment of true merit. Jules Gerard is a native of
Pignan, in the arrondissement of Toulon, where he
was born, in the year 1817; and having embraced the
profession of arms, joined the 3rd regiment of cavalry
in the French army of Algeria, as a volunteer, on the
23rd June, 1842. At first, absorbed in military duties
and studies, he gave himself but little to the exercises
of the chase, if we may dignify with that term some
shooting excursions in the neighbourhood of the town,





THE LION-SLAYER. a

where such small prey as quail, partridges, water-
fowl, hares, rabbits, foxes, antelopes, jackals, and
wild-boar, were so plentiful as to fall in abundance
before the least skilful sportsman. From more distant
and venturesome enterprises the soldiers were deterred
by the fear of the panther and the lion, and the yet
unconquered Arab. Nor were they less afraid of those
vast swarms of deadly flies, which haunt the heights of
Algeria, and settle with such determination and vigour
upon their victims, as to overcome the bravest and
strongest man.*
The immediate vicinity of Bone having submitted
to the French authority, the garrison of that place
had little to do but keep a watchful eye upon the
more distant provinces, whose attitude was threaten-
ing; and Gerard had little opportunity, therefore, of
participating in the military service and glory for
which he thirsted. In consequence of this circum-
stance, he was amongst the first to inscribe his name
as a volunteer to serve at Guelma, an advanced post
to the north of the lower chain of the Atlas, where he
took part in various expeditions, between the years
1843 and 1846, and so distinguished himself by his
valour, that he had twice the honour of being men-
tioned in the military despatches. It is not our
province to record his exploits as a soldier. War is a
capricious mistress. Her moods are variable. Some-
times she gives action and glory, at others idleness
and ennui. Inaction is the purgatory of a brave and
adventurous man.
Against this common enemy, each soldier arms
himself as his inclinations direct and his resources
permit. The book-shelf of a military man is soon
exhausted. Men look anxiously about for other
sources of occupation and amusement.
These ephemeral insects (they only live for a space of forty
days) fix themselves by myriads upon the largest animals as
well as man, and cause them to perish in frightful convulsions.
They are about the size of the common meat-fly, from which they
differ only in the colour of the body, which is an emerald-green.






6 THE LION-SLAYER.
One night a soldier might have been seen climbing
the ramparts, heedless of the challenges of the sen-
tinels, and thus exposing himself to the chances of an
inglorious death. It was our hero, Jules Gerard, who
had heard the howling of wild beasts, and had set off
to encounter them. News had reached him. An old
lion from the Atlas mountains is ravaging the country
around Archioua, and innumerable victims, men as
well as cattle, have attested the terrible presence of
the monster. The whole population is in despair, and
cries aloud for an avenger. As an avenger Gerard
offers himself.
In the course of a few hours, accompanied by his
dog-called by the prophetic name of Lion-he has
traversed the vast plain of Guelma, broken by ravines
and hidden streams, and clad by the untrained luxuri-
ance of nature with a gorgeousness of vegetation far
exceeding the richest productions of European climes.
Gerard having examined the theatre of the enemy's
depredations, and made himself familiar with the neces-
sary landmarks, calmly waits the return of night.
The hour of the evening watch has sounded. Re-
freshments circulate in the hospitable tent where the
elders of the tribe are assembled, and one of the most
gifted of the natives chants a long and monotonous
ballad in honour of the renowned Arsenne.
This Arsenne was by birth a Turk, who had ac-
quired great celebrity under the ancient beys of
Constantine as a lion-hunter, or we should rather say,
as a lion-snarer Sometimes aloft in a tree, sometimes
buried in a cavity of the rocks, always sheltered in
impregnable ambuscade, he killed a great number of
these ferocious creatures without ever daring openly
to face them. He wanted the glory of this exploit,
or to speak more truly, he was challenged by his
betrothed, and, in her sweetest tones, she said to him
one day,-
"Arsenne, dost thou hear in the mountain the
roaring of the lion ?"





THE LION-SLAYTER.
I hear it," Arsenne replied.
SYou must bring me his skin to-night; not as a
new trophy of thy address, but of thy valour. In the
open country only shalt thou attack him."
Such was her command. She waited the result.
To humour his betrothed, the enamoured Arsenne
threw himself upon the track of the lion. . His
bones only were discovered at the base of a ravine.
This little history imparted something of solemnity
to the occasion. Was it intended as a prudent warn-
ing against the rashness of his enterprise ? Or was it
a last confession of humiliation, on the part of the
Arab, in accepting the heroic protection of the infidel ?
Whatever the design, it missed its aim; for the heart
of Gerard, proof equally against intimidation and flat-
tery, took note of nothing but the hospitality of his
hosts. Having lighted a fresh pipe, and made his
acknowledgments to his entertainers, he took his way
toward the wood-clothed ravines, which seemed at
this hour of the dusk to encincture the country of
Archioua with a girdle of mourning.
During the entire night he explored the district,
but his search was vain; not a trace of the foe he
sought met his eye. On the following day at the
same hour he was at his post, scanning with eager
look every ravine and hollow.
In vain the hyena and the jackal bounded howling
beneath his feet. The panther himself had been
deemed unworthy of his arms, or rather of the soli-
tary shot it was in his power to discharge; for by
some accident one of the locks of his musket had
become broken. An old Roman, interpreting the mis-
chance as an augury, would have retraced his steps;
but Gerard was only rendered by it the more daring,
as placing himself more on an equality with the noble
beast. It will now, he said, be lion matched against
lion.
At length, about eight o'clock in the evening of the
8th of July, a terrific howling, repeated again and







again by many-voiced echo, was heard to issue from a
neighboring ravine. At the dread sound of its notes
all nature seemed abashed into silence, and the cattle
crept away, and hid themselves.
Gerard was impatient for the fray; his heart beat
high, and his breast expanded. He essayed to tear
away the branches that separated him from the
enemy, who he feared might yet retreat, and decline
the combat. Eagerly his eye penetrated the gloom.
He removed in a few minutes the last screen. His
watchful dog followed his master's eye, and suddenly
crouched at his feet, without uttering so much as a
cry of terror; for fear had paralyzed his voice.
It was a sublime and imposing sight, that forest
king, in all his colossal proportions, his shaggy mane
floating in the wind, his eyes on fire, and his mouth
reeking with blood. He had planted himself within
twenty paces of Gerard, whose pulse throbbed, not with
fear, but, as he has related with admirable simplicity,
with joy at having reached the crisis of his enterprise,
and finding himself face to face with the enemy he had
been seeking.
The lion saw his antagonist, and did not attempt
flight. Man, who had so often fallen before his mid-
night depredations, seemed to him an easy and certain
prey. He knew not how Gerard was armed.
Profiting by the few seconds, which seemed an
eternity, during which the monster stood glaring at
him, Jules schooled himself to sustain his flashing
looks; then bringing his weapon to bear with a
cautious movement, so as not to excite suspicion, he
grasped it with the firmness of a vice. His body
slightly inclined forward, rested on limbs as immoveable
as buttresses of masonry. . He pauses a moment
to steady his aim. If it fail, the monster will be upon
him before he can reload. Life and death are at issue
upon that single shot. Now he is ready. His finger
presses the trigger. An explosion, of sweeter
melody to the ear of our hero than strains of softest


8


THE LION-SLATER.





THE LION-SLAYER. 9

music, shows that the trusty weapon has not failed.
Stricken between the eyes, the huge beast shakes the
earth with a convulsive bound, and as the volume of
smoke clears away, Gerard contemplates his victim
gasping out its latest breath at his feet.
As the news spread that the lion was dead, men,
women, and children filled the air with shouts of joy.
The traces of their despair and misery passed away.
Torches were burned; guns were fired as the signal for
a feast; wheaten puddings, called in the language of
the country couscousson, light beer, and biscuits, cir-
culated; discordant flourishes of native music, songs
and dances, made up an Arab carnival full of spirit
and originality.
The entire population presently poured along the
path that led to the dead lion-their torches shining
like a long riband of flame-and soon, illumined by the
reflection of a thousand torches, the monster was seen
stretched out motionless upon the earth.
It was one of the fiercest of the lions of Atlas,
exhibiting the very perfection of strength and beauty.
On measurement, he was found to be seventeen feet
in length, and a thick curly and knotted mane veiled
half of his huge frame.
One instant kept silent by astonishment, the deliri-
ous joy of the multitude quickly found vent in shouts
that rent the air. A thousand voices joined in one,
like the voice of a thousand grains of powder uniting
in the report of a cannon, hailed Gerard as THE LION-
SLAYER.
Such was his first exploit in a career in which he
has since gained such distinguished renown. The
fame of his prowess quickly spread abroad, and innu-
merable applications were made to him for succour
from districts ravaged by lions. The natives them-
selves are generally too much terrified to adopt
efficient means of defending themselves from the
depredations of these monsters, and with all the
extravagance of enthusiasm, hailed our hero as a sa-





THE LION-SLAYER.


viour. They were astonished at the courage and self-
possession which dared encounter these formidable
beasts single-handed. Their own operations, when-
ever the extremity of their peril rouses them to
resistance, invariably take the shape of a combined
movement on a very extensive scale.
In the southern district of the circle of Constantine,
for example, the Arabs are accustomed to meet the
lion in true array of battle, only refraining from
the use of artillery itself, because they happen to be
destitute of that resource.
When one of the monarch beasts has been commit-
ting his depredations, the Arabs of the tribe which
has suffered most severely, assemble at some rendez-
vous. The horsemen then take up their position at
the foot of the mountain where it is ascertained the
lion reposes during the day, whilst those on foot,
uttering loud shouts, advance in parties of thirty or
forty to his retreat.
At the first war-cry the lion, if it is a young one
(and a lioness unless she have her young with her will
do the same), quits his lair, to avoid a combat; but as
the mountains in this part are but scantily wooded,
he is generally perceived, and a few shots are sufficient
to bring him to battle.
An adult lion will lazily rouse himself like a slug-
gard awakened too soon; then, stretching and rubbing
his sides against the bushes from which he has risen,
and shaking his thick matted mane, he listens for a
moment to the cries that reach him, and angrily
scratches the earth with his claws. Proceeding slowly
towards the nearest point of rock which commands
the country below, he looks around on every side, and
when he has surveyed the scene, awaits the issue.
Immediately an Arab perceives him, he exclaims, in
a loud voice, "He is there;" and the cry rising dis-
tinctly above the incoherent shouts of the multitude,
is at once understood by all. Its effect is instanta-
neous. Every voice is hushed to silence. Those to


10






THE LION-SLAYER.


whom the lion is visible involuntarily stop and gaze
at him, and the more distant parties quickly gather to
the spot.
A long pause ensues. The Arabs examine the
priming of their guns, and try the edge of their
vatagans;* and the lion licks his paws, and rubs his
face and his mane, as if performing his toilette before
the battle. Then an Arab advances from the group,
and addresses the majestic creature in language of
defiance. He says, "Do you not know us, since you
thus continue to stand before us ? Get thee up and fly,
for we are the men of such a tribe, and I am ," pro-
claiming his name. The lion, who has made his meal
of more than one native who had apostrophized him in
the same valiant terms, disregards the warning, and
with unruffled dignity proceeds with his toilette.
Another of his assailants bids him begone; and not
showing any disposition to obey, the ears of the poor
beast are presently stunned with such a torrent of
abuse,-in the midst of which may be heard the con-
temptuous epithets of Jew," Christian," "In-
fidel," &c., strangely mingled,-that enraged at the
annoyance, he springs to his feet, and lashing his
sides with his tail, marches on to the attack. The
combat begins. Blood is shed. More than one rock,
and more than one bush, are marked by it. It is the
blood of the bravest, who were foremost in the en-
counter. The footmen, wounded and repulsed, retreat
before the enemy to the plain where the cavalry have
taken their position. Warned of the approach of the
beast, these hastily prepare for action. They gallop
wildly about, brandish their weapons in the air,
and add to the confusion by loud and discordant
shouts. But the lion watches their manoeuvres, and
maintains his vantage-ground. He will not venture
out into the unsheltered plain. Their utmost provo-
cations fail. Some one must approach him and fire.
There is a moment perhaps of hesitation, when an
A kind of Turkish sword or scimitar.


11







aged man, who has some kindred to avenge, addresses
his comrades, "Young men," he says, "if any among
you is afraid of death, let him go back." No one
moves. The Arab who should retire at such a moment
would be lost for ever in the estimation of his
tribe.
He who has spoken takes some steps in advance,
and, deliberately taking aim, fires. Perhaps his shot
goes home, and then the rest of the party rushing in,
complete the slaughter of the beast. Perhaps he
misses his aim, and the lion, rightly interpreting the
design of the shot, becomes himself the assailant, and
springs forward in a rage on his foes. Now the panic
becomes universal; there is an indiscriminate flight,
a few only, perhaps, reaching ambush, and discharging
their weapons from their hiding-places.
If the enemy succeed in making a capture of one of
his assailants (and this happens almost as a matter of
course), his deliverance may generally be effected by
one of the horsemen rallying, and, at a proper distance,
firing. The lion will quit his prisoner to resent this
new attack, and thus give his terrified prey an oppor-
tunity of escape, whilst he himself, exhausted in the
fruitless pursuit of horses to whom fear has lent
wings, crouches down and awaits death upon the spot.
This is the critical moment. The scattered riders
rapidly come up; an irregular fire is opened; the lion
receives without moving, numerous balls, discharged
at a distance of eighty or a hundred paces; but if any
one more venturous approaches much nearer than this,
the monster at once rouses himself, and either the
rider is torn from his saddle, or both rider and horse
roll in the dust, and perish together. I have seen
many Arabs," says Gerard, who have been seized by
lions and have escaped at the commencement of an
affray, but whoever has the mischance to fall into the
hands of one in whose body a dozen bullets have been
lodged, is quickly torn to pieces. You may approach
the creature then, near enough to put the muzzle of


12


THE LION-SLAYER.






THE LION-SLAYER.


your musket in his ear, and he will die before he will
release his prey."
Gerard was often questioned as to his exploits by
the Arabs amongst whom he fell, and to whose tents
his fame had been carried. How is it possible,"
they would say, that alone and in the darkness of
night you have been able to slay lions (unless you are
something more than a man), when we experience so
much difficulty, and encounter so many perils, in
despatching one on horseback and in open day,-even
after we have wounded him with eighty balls, and have
lost many horses and men?" And when he replied,
that it was easy enough; that he waited till they came
to the encounter, and that if they came not to him
he'went to them; they would shake their heads and
say, Ah! these lions of Guelma are but children."
The natives of Seguia challenged our hero to give
them a proof of his prowess. He accepted it, and
thus relates the sequel:-" It was the 28th of January.
I was told there were several lions in the Zerazer
mountains, about twenty leagues to the south of Con-
stantine. The weather continuing very unfavourable
till the 1st of February, I contented myself with des-
patching some Arabs to reconnoitre the different
stations about the mountain, and occupied my time
with other affairs. On the first of the month, two
small parties of natives placed themselves at my
disposal. I instructed them to proceed to the woods
at an early hour on the following morning, and light a
great beacon-fire as soon as they discovered the track
of a lion on his return towards the mountain. I
concluded the whole neighbourhood would rally round
the fire. On the 3rd, at eight o'clock in the morning,
I mounted my horse, accompanied by two native
sheikhs, each taking command of a party, and after fol-
lowing the foot of the mountain towards the south for
an hour, perceived a column of smoke ascending from
a rock; it was the signal of my spies. On approaching
the rendezvous, I saw an Arab standing at the base


13






THE LION-SLAYER.


of a declivity, high up on the mountain; and, following
the direction of his hand, presently perceived abundant
signs of the presence of more than one lion. They
say that a sin confessed is half expiated. So much
the better, then, for I will acknowledge my vanity was
gratified at beholding on one side of me the foot-
prints of three lions, and, on the other, forty Arabs,
armed to the teeth, the expectant witnesses of my
valour and prowess. My attendant followed me in
silence, as, dismounting, I cautiously pursued the trail
of the beasts, endeavouring to obtain a sight of them.
As I turned back, I marked an expression of sly mis-
chief on his face, as much as to say, 'There are
three of them for you!' They are but young,' I
observed, 'not more than three years of age; I
should have preferred an old lion.' He shrugged his
shoulders, and went away to relate what I had said
to his companions, whom I presently joined. 'Let
two men take our horses, and wait for us at the foot of
the mountain,' I said to one of the sheikhs; 'let two
others attend me with my carbines, and do both of
you follow me in silence.'
When I reached the crest of the mountain, I found
amid the snow a hollow like the lair of wild beasts,
stained with blood, and could perceive, from the traces
still left, that from this spot the lions had directed their
course towards a valley, which seemed likely enough
to afford them cover. I directed two parties to follow
very quietly the projecting ledge of rock which forms,
as it were, a cornice, the entire length of the Zerazer,
abstaining from any attempt to descend the side.
They were to march towards the south, raising a great
outcry, but without firing a single shot. In case the
lions should assume the offensive, their cries were to
cease, and the sentinels, who were so placed as to be
witnesses of everything, were to give me the alarm.
Satisfied, from sufficient signs, that the snow plain
where I had found the marks of blood was the route
usually traversed by the foes I was seeking, I disarmed


14






THE LION-SLAYER.


my two attendants of their carbines, and placing
them in a cleft of the rock, where they would be able
to observe everything without any danger to them-
selves, I sat down upon a piece of stone in the open
plain. The wind brought me the sound of a prolonged
shout, and I concentrated all my attention upon the
proceedings of the signal-men. For about an hour I
ad been listening to the cries of the scouts, when a
gazelle appeared upon the brink of the hill above me.
She stopped a moment, and casting a look behind her,
sprang forward, and ran towards me at her utmost
speed. She passed by on my left, within fifteen feet
of me, and a noise I heard immediately afterwards
satisfied me that I had acted wisely in not firing upon
her. A lion, separated from his companions, came
direct towards me, seated as I was, close by a bush
at the foot of which lay the path the creature fol-
lowed; I did not move, hoping to be able to fire upon
him at a distance of ten feet, and intending to aim at
him between the eyes.
For a moment he disappeared, hidden by the wind-
ings of the path amongst the bushes. My gun at
my shoulder, my finger upon the trigger, I waited
with impatience for his reappearance, when an excla-
mation, uttered by the Arabs who were concealed
behind me, made me aware that the lion had turned
to the right, under the shade of the wood. Getting
on my feet, I saw him stationed on the very rock
which served as a shelter to my men. A ball from my
gun lodged in his shoulder, and, as he rose, a second
followed the first. Smarting from his two wounds, he
uttered a howl, which made the two prisoners in the
rock almost die with fright, and then bounded towards
a precipice almost fifty feet in height.
He fell heavily amidst a mass of stones and bram-
bles, among which the last convulsions of his agony
were spent. At the same moment one of my exploring
parties appeared on the heights from which the lion
had descended. They had heard my firing. I had the


15





16 THE LION-SLAYER.
greatest difficulty in the world to prevent their going
down to the foot of the rock which my prey had over-
leaped. Fearful lest he should not be yet quite dead, I
persisted in going alone.
Scarcely had I reloaded my carbine, when the
videttes began shouting with all their might. Two
lions were visible. There was no time to lose. Satis-
fied that I should find my first victim dead, I followed
the natives, who, no longer doubting my intrepidity,
had taken the advance, leaping from rock to rock like
the chamois. The lions, however, disappeared, and
were invisible for the rest of that day.
On the 4th, at mid-day, I took up the same position
as before, and in about three hours afterwards a
lioness approached by the same path as the lion I had
slain. I planted myself on the top of the rock, and
sat down till she came within range of my gun.
Hitherto, she had not seen me, but as soon as I rose,
she stopped, looked about her with an air of disquie-
tude, and crouching down in the same way as a cat
does, showed me her magnificent teeth. What
weapons they were! She was about thirty feet
distant. I levelled my gun. As I fired, she doubled up
like a serpent, turning her head from the side where
she had been struck; then, collecting all her remaining
strength, she bounded forward about ten feet, and fell,
receiving a second shot in the back of the neck. The
Arabs, attracted by the double discharge, came to me
one by one to make me the amende honorable, and
kiss the hand that had given them a lesson they said
they should never forget."
The lion was sent as a trophy to Constantine. The
following day they found the one previously slain.
He lay dead at the foot of the rock where he had
fallen.
The following episode can be best related in the
adventurer's own words. On the night of the
2nd of January," he says, "I mortally wounded a
lion with three slugs in the shoulder, whose dismal






THE LION-SLYAER, 17
howlings I had followed in the neighbourhood of the
camp of Mezez-Amar. After making a preliminary
examination, I returned to the camp, and on the
following day at break of dawn, followed by a cavalry.
man and the Sheikh Mustapha, returned upon the
track of the beast. After following the trail of his
blood for the course of half an hour, we discovered
him, still living, in the midst of a thicket, on the right
bank of the river Bon Hemdem, a quarter of a league to
the west of the camp of Mezez-Amar. He proclaimed
his presence to us by his groans. As the wood in
which he had taken refuge was almost impenetrable,
I placed Rostain (the cavalry-man) and seven or eight
Arabs, who had joined our party, at the outskirts of
the thicket, and proceeded myself to descend the
ravine, directing them when they saw me at the bot-
tom, about fifty feet distant from them, to throw
stones. The lion I thought, mortally wounded, would
come down towards me as soon as he was disturbed
by the noise of the stones above. But for some time
he did not stir, though the stones literally rained
down upon his sides. I made a sign, therefore, to
Rostain to cease throwing them, and as soon as he
did so, the lion, not hearing the noise any longer,
rose, and slowly came out, as if to listen. By a ges-
ture of my hand I prevented Rostain from attacking
him, when the Sheikh Mustapha's dogs, finding them-
selves face to face with the beast, suddenly took
flight, bounding over the brushwood by Rostain and
the Arabs. These last immediately turned tail; and
the lion seeing Rostain nearer to him than the rest of
the party, attacked him; now leaping forward, and
now rolling for some feet, but quickly recovering him-
self, and starting off again with a howl in pursuit,
when he received a ball, which would have saved my
man, but for the mishap of a false step and a fall.
The lion seized him at the instant he was recover-
ing himself, and rolled over and over, holding the
unfortunate horseman in his teeth, whilst he savagely






18 THE LION-8LAYER.
tore his sides with his claws. When he had got over
a few feet in this way, the animal abandoned his vic-
tim, and tried with difficulty to make his way towards
the foot of the ravine. As soon as I saw Rostain fall,
feeling that the lion would inevitably seize him, I had
hastened, as well as the nature of the ground and the
brambles that covered it would permit, to fly to his
assistance, but I arrived too late. The lion had dis-
appeared, and I could do nothing but attend to the
severe wounds of my poor comrade.
The next day I went back to the wood accompanied
by a party of thirty Arabs. We found the trail of
the lion, and followed the marks of his blood. He
had betaken himself to a thicket forming almost an
islet, and separated by the river Bon Hemdem from the
plain which the Arabs call El-Baz. In spite of our
shouts, and the stones we threw plentifully, he did
not stir. One of the natives caught a glimpse of him
as he lay couched up in the midst of an enormous
mastic-tree. He fired, but missed his aim. The lion
sprang at him, but his strength was spent, and the
Arab escaped. Another of the party, finding himself
face to face with the animal, levelled his gun; the lion
sat down and waited; the Arab in a moment of
panic turned his head aside to see that his companions
had not left him; the lion saw his opportunity, and
made a spring; with one blow of his heavy paw he
laid open the cheek of his victim, tore the butt-end of
his musket from the barrel and from his grasp, and
seizing him by the loins, hurled him against a tree
some ten feet distant. Encountering a third native
armed with a musket and bayonet, he struck him
down with a blow of his tail, and then presented him-
self on the bank of the river in face of the little ford
occupied by the rest of the party, consisting of five
men. These took to flight, and the lion passed over
without further molestation. I was starting off in
further pursuit of him, when the Sheikh Mustapha
came to tell me that the litter for carrying the






P THE LION-SLAYER.


wounded Rostain had arrived from Mezez-Amar. I
thought it my duty to attend him to the camp, and
thence to Guelma, where I saw him received into the
hospital. On the morrow I returned to the spot, and
for six days caused the wood to be watched, to assure
myself that the lion did not come out either to eat or
drink, and at the end of that time the vultures began
to gather, a sufficient sign that my prey had died in
some thicket."
Since the death of the black lion of Archioua, his
consort having retreated from the neighbourhood, it
was for a time free from depredations. But in the
course of some months this lioness returned, accom-
panied by a yellow lion and two young ones of about
eighteen months old. Cattle now began to disappear
again every day, and occasionally horses, killed by the
dam to feed her offspring. After many complaints on
the part of the peasants, Gerard established his quar-
ters in the vicinity, and on the 3rd of December,
1846, intelligence was brought him that the lioness had
just wounded a man and killed a horse. He at once
accompanied the messenger to the spot where the
animal had been strangled. On the borders of a
wood near, he found a pool of blood, and from that
place, through a thicket of mastic and wild olive-trees,
traced the course along which the lioness had dragged
the horse to the foot of a ravine, a distance of more
than six hundred feet. The poor brute was lying on
the ground still whole, and with no other wounds than
the bites of two huge teeth in his throat. Gerard
crept behind a tree about four feet from the carcass,
and waited the result.
The entire night passed without the appearance of
anything. But about six o'clock in the evening of
the next day the approach of the lioness was an-
nounced by the affrighted cries of birds, and the flight
of two racoons who were roaming about the horse.
The ravine being very narrow, and everywhere well
wooded, he could not perceive the lioness until she
c2


19





THE LION-SLAYER.


had come up to her prey. Her two young fol-
lowed her at a short distance. One of them ad-
vancing towards the horse, the dam turned upon it,
and frightening it away, drove it back to the thicket.
"She had distinguished me," says Gerard, "in my
hiding-place. Stealthily she made a circuit around
me, now hiding herself from my sight, now showing
her head above a bramble, as she looked to see that I
was still there. Suddenly she seemed to have entirely
disappeared.
"I almost believed she had done so, when happening
to cast my eyes to my right, I saw her extended like
a serpent, her head resting on her two paws, her eyes
fixed upon mine, her tail swaying slowly, like a pen-
dulum, in the air. I felt that I had not a moment to
spare. I took my aim at her forehead, she bounded
five feet from the ground, and fell, uttering a horrid
howl. She was dead. The aim had been true, and
the shot pierced her brain. The young lions having
fled at the sound of the musket, I waited till four
o'clock in the morning without their re-appearing.
At length the extreme cold compelled me to return,
and when I came afterwards to take possession of my
lioness, I was accompanied by more than two hundred
Arabs, who manifested the highest joy at my success;
for amongst all I had slain to this time, not one had
committed so many ravages in so short a time."
Gerard continues to distinguish himself in adven.
tures similar to those we have related. His services
are in general request, and he is known amongst
all the natives of Algeria by the name conferred on
him by acclamation by the people of Archioua, The
Lion-Slayer."
His latest triumph over the savage creatures against
whom he has declared war, is related in the following
letter, written by himself to a friend:-

MY DEAR LEOw,-In my narrative of the month
of August, 1850, I spoke of a large old lion which I


20






THE LION-SLAYER.


had not been able to fall in with, and of whose sex
and age I had formed a notion from his roarings. On
the return of the expeditionary column from Kabylis,
I asked permission from General St. Armand to go
and explore the fine lairs situated on the northern
declivity of Mount Aures, in the environs of Klen-
chela, where I had left my animal. Instead of a
furlough, I received a mission for that country, and
accordingly had, during two months, to shut my ears
against the daily reports that were brought to me by
the Arabs of the misdeeds of the solitary. In the
beginning of September, when my mission was termi-
nated, I proceeded to pitch my tent in the midst of
the district haunted by the lion, and set about my
investigations round about the douars, to which he
paid the most frequent visits. In this manner I spent
many a night beneath the open sky, without any satis-
factory result, when, on the 15th, in the morning,
after a heavy rain, which had lasted till midnight,
some natives, who had explored the cover, came and
informed me that the lion was ensconced within half a
mile of my tent I set out at three o'clock, taking
with me an Arab to hold my horse, another carrying
my arms, and a third in charge of a goat, most
decidedly unconscious of the important part it was
about to perform. Having alighted at the skirt of
the wood, I directed myself towards a glade situated
in the midst of the haunt, where I found a shrub to
which I could tie the goat, and a tuft or two to sit
upon. The Arabs went and crouched down beneath
the cover, at a distance of about a hundred paces. I
had been there about a quarter of an hour, the goat
meanwhile bleating with all its might, when a covey
of partridges got up behind me, uttering their usual
cry when surprised. I looked about me in every direc-
tion, but could see nothing. Meanwhile the goat had
ceased crying, and its eyes were intently fixed at me.
She made an attempt to break away from the fasten-
ing, and then began to tremble in all her limbs. At


21





THE LIO-SLAYER.


these symptoms of fright I again turned round, and
perceived behind me, about fifteen paces off, the lion,
stretched out at the foot of a juniper-tree, through
the branches of which he was surveying us and
making wry faces. In the position I was in it was
impossible for me to fire without facing about. I
tried to fire from the left shoulder, but I felt awkward.
I turned gently round, without rising; I was in a
favourable position; and just as I was levelling my
piece, the lion stood up and began to show me all his
teeth, at the same time shaking his head, as much as
to say, 'What are you doing there, fellow?' I did
not hesitate a moment, and fired at his mouth. The
animal fell on the spot, as if struck by lightning. My
men ran up at the shot, and as they were eager to lay
hands on the lion, I fired a second time, between the
eyes, in order to secure his lying perfectly still. The
first bullet had taken the course of the spine through-
out its entire length, passing through the marrow, and
had come out at the tail. I had never before fired a
shot that penetrated so deeply, and yet I had only
loaded with sixty grains. It is true the rifle was one
of Devisme's, and the bullets steel-pointed. The lion,
a black one, and among the oldest I have ever shot,
supplied the kettles of four companies of infantry who
were stationed at Klenchela. Receive, my dear Leon,
the assurance of my devoted affection.
JULES GERARD."

We trust our young readers will bear in mind that
there is a very essential difference between such
exploits as we have been recording, and the ordinary
pursuits of the chase. Whatever opinions may be
entertained of sporting as a gentleman's recreation,
the defence of society against beasts of prey is a duty,
the obligations of which every one will admit; and
when we see the habitations of peaceful men invaded
by savage monsters, who have left their native forests
to search for prey, their flocks ravaged, and their


22






THE LION-SLAYER.


children destroyed, we should be thankful that there
are men endowed with courage and presence of mind
to become the means of delivering the neighbourhood
from such fearful intruders. The life of man is of
paramount value, and God has wisely implanted in us
the instinct of self-preservation. Jules Gerard may
indeed be honoured as a herp, for by his coolness
and intrepidity he has freed more than one village
from a terrible scourge; and the very qualities
which made him a hero, and fitted him to do battle
with fierce lions, would have made him disdain to
inflict pain' or hurt on any of the smaller and harm-
less of God's creatures. The Lion-Slayer would always
have been above cruelty. There are some creatures,
the sworn and acknowledged enemies of man; they
dwell in primeval forests, occupants of the land until
man comes to take possession. As he peoples the
earth, filling the waste places with his children, these
savage beasts are destined to disappear; and when they
come out from their lairs, and desolate the dwellings
of man, man must subdue them ; and he who is boldest
in the chase is a hero.
But there are other creatures whom God has made
to live in friendship with us, to minister to our wants,
and keep watch over our dwellings, and even to make
their home at our fireside. There are some who
display their beautiful plumage to the sun to delight
our eyes, and make nature vocal with their melodious
song. There are some of mean-perhaps of unsightly
-form, who clear the air of its impurities, that it may
be fit for us to breathe, and perform a thousand other
offices of humble but effectual service; Gerard the
Lion-Slayer would not have harmed one of them.
There is no heroism in wanton or in thoughtless
cruelty.


23





24


ST. JEAN D'ACRES.
A PAGE FROM THE HISTORY OF THE CRUSADES.
WHILST preparations for the third crusade were
being made throughout Europe, Saladin pursued his
victorious course in Palestine. The battle of Tiberias,
and the conquest of Jerusalem, had thrown the
Christians in the East into the depths of despair. In
the midst of this general consternation, one city alone,
Tyre, continued to resist the most vigorous efforts of
the new conquerors to subdue it. Twice had Saladin
assembled his fleets and armies for its attack, but the
inhabitants had unanimously sworn to die rather than
surrender to the Mussulmans, an heroic determination,
due to the influence of Conrad, who had opportunely
reached the besieged town, and who seemed to the
people to have been sent by heaven to save them.
This Conrad, son of the marquis of Montserrat, bore
an illustrious name in the East, where the fame of his
valour had preceded him. In his early youth he had
distinguished himself in the war against the emperor
of Germany. His thirst for glory and his love of
adventure had afterwards led him to Constantinople,
where he subdued an insurrection which threatened
the imperial throne, and killed the rebel leader on
the field of battle. The sister of Isaac and the
title of Caesar were the rewards of his courage and
services; but his restless character did not suffer him
long to enjoy his good fortunes. He was awakened
from his dream of peaceful greatness by the sounds of
the holy war, and he tore himself from the tenderness
of a bride and the favour of an emperor, to fly to
Palestine. Conrad arrived on the coasts of Phoenicia
some days after the battle of Tiberias. Tyre had
already named a deputation to demand terms of capi-
tulation from Saladin, but the arrival of Conrad
reanimated the courage of its inhabitants, and changed
the whole face of things. He took the command of








the city, repaired its fortifications, and under his
orders the people prepared again to contend with the
fleets and armies of the Turks.
At this time Conrad's father, the aged marquis of
Montserrat, was a captive in the prisons of Damascus.
Saladin sent for him to his army, and offered Conrad
to restore his father to liberty, and to bestow on him
rich possessions in Syria, on condition that he opened
the gates of Tyre. If not, he threatened him to
place the venerable marquis in front of the Mussulman
ranks, and expose him to the arrows of the besieged.
Conrad replied, that he despised the proffered gifts of
the infidels, and that even his father's life was less dear
to him than the Christian cause. On the receipt of
this message, the Turks began the assault, but after a
long and vigorous attack, twice repeated, Saladin was
fain to abandon the enterprise, and raised the siege.
Conrad was immediately invested with the govern-
ment of the city he had so bravely defended; but his
own successes rendered him but little indulgent to
the misfortunes of others. One day a wanderer came
to the gates of Tyre, and besought sympathy and
succour. The governor refused to recognize a prince
who had not been able to maintain his own sovereign
rights.
The royal wanderer was Guy de Lusignan, king of
the Christian kingdom of Jerusalem, from which the
armies of Saladin, recovering from their earlier defeats,
had expelled him. He had just been released from
captivity, and his first use of liberty was to endeavour
to recover the kingdom he had lost. Repulsed from
Tyre, he determined, with the help of a few followers
who adhered to his humble fortunes, to attempt some
bold and brilliant enterprise, which should attract the
attention of Europe towards him, and reunite under
his banner the scattered arm of the Cross for a new
deliverance of the Holy Land.
Guy de Lusignan resolved to lay siege to the city
of Ptolemais, or Acre, which had surrendered to


25


ST. JEA.W D ACRES.






ST. JEAN D'ACRES.


Saladin, some days after the battle of Tiberias. The
plains around it were beautiful and fertile; gardens and
rich plantations, scattered villages and the country
homes of the richer citizens, diversified the prospect.
Many of the neighboring spots were sacred, from
traditions,-some historical, and some religious. A
rising hillock was pointed out as the tomb of Memnon.
On Mount Carmel were the caves of Elias and Elisha,
and the place where Pythagoras worshipped Echo.
Such were the scenes, full of beauty and interest,
soon destined to be the theatre of sanguinary strife
between the rival armies of Europe and Asia.
Guy de Lusignan pitched his tents before Acre with
a force of scarcely nine thousand men, who had rallied
to his standard. Three days after their arrival, at the
close of the month of August, 1189, they commenced
operations. Not giving themselves time to prepare the
proper machines for battering the fortifications of a
strong city, they fixed their scaling-ladders to the
walls, and, covered only by their bucklers, mounted
to the assault. A chronicler of the time, in relating
this daring exploit, assures us, that such was the
impetuosity of the attack, that the town must at once
have fallen into the hands of the Christians, had not a
sudden report been raised abroad that Saladin himself
had come to the rescue,-a dread name, that filled the
little army with a sudden panic, and drove them,
stricken with terror, from the ramparts. They re-
tired to the shelter of a little hill, behind which they
had encamped.
Presently, a welcome but unexpected sight pre-
sented itself. Their eyes turn towards the sea, and
they behold fifty ships advancing under pressure of
canvass. It was a Christian fleet, bearing reinforce-
ments they had not dreamed of. Nor were the crews
of these war-ships, bound for Palestine, less surprised
at the sight of the little camp. They knew not what
to think of it, but as they caught sight at length of
the standards of the Cross, floating in the air, loud


26






ST. JEAN D'ACRE8.


shouts broke forth from the ships, and were echoed
back from the soldiers on shore, and an indescribable
state of excitement ensued. All eyes were filled with
tears. Crowds hastened to the shore; some even cast
themselves into the water, to give a quicker welcome to
the parties who arrived. Mutual congratulations are
rapidly exchanged, whilst arms, provisions, and ammu-
nition are disembarked, and twelve thousand warriors
from Friesland and Denmark unfurl their banners
between the hill of Thuron and the city of Acre.
These opportune reinforcements were speedily fol-
lowed by others. The archbishop of Canterbury
headed a large party from England, and Jacques
d'Avesnes, already celebrated by his exploits, and
whom the palm of martyrdom was awaiting in the
Holy Land, was the leader of a numerous body from
Flanders.
Saladin, finding the Christian hosts thus multiplying,
abandoned his conquests in Phoenicia, and conducted
his army to the defence of Acre, taking up his position
on a neighboring hill. The presence of the illus-
trious warrior of the East inspired the garrison with
renewed courage, and on both sides preparations were
made for an arduous and sustained conflict. To ani-
mate his soldiers, Saladin determined on a pitched
battle, and chose for the moment of combat the hour
when the disciples of Islam were accustomed to
engage in prayer. The enthusiasm and fanaticism
of the Mussulman army was unbounded, and the
Christians were driven from the posts they occupied
on the borders of the sea. From this time they busied
themselves in fortifying their camp with ditches and
intrenchments.
Fresh arrivals of ships and warriors continued to
add to the besieging forces, and even Conrad of Tyre,
who had refused assistance to the king of Jerusalem
when a wanderer at his gates, found it impossible to
remain idle when such stirring scenes were being
enacted. He armed vessels, raised troops, and,pre-


27





ST. JEAN D ACRES.


sented himself at their head on the plains of Acre.
At length, upwards of a hundred thousand warriors
were assembled before the city, thirsting for glory and
impatient of delay. Whilst the great monarchs of
Europe, who had undertaken to conduct a new crusade,
were still occupied in making arrangements for their
departure, the Christian knights, to use the expression
of an Arab historian, clad in their cuirasses and scale-
armour, looked in the distance like glistening serpents
covering the plain; when they flew to their arms they
resembled birds of prey; and in the melee of battle
they might be compared to invincible lions.
On the 14th of October there was a great battle,
in which victory at first declared for the Christians.
An eyewitness of the sanguinary scene, and a Mussul-
man, after describing with remarkable frankness the
successes of the besiegers, says, When we saw the
Mussulman army routed, we thought of nothing but
our own safety, and hurried on till we reached Tiberias,
in company with those who had taken the same road.
We found the inhabitants seized with terror, and
broken-hearted at the defeat of Islamism. We
grasped the reins of our horses convulsively, and
breathed with difficulty."
The victorious army was unfortunately but an un-
disciplined host. Strangers to each other, differing in
character, in habits, in language, and in arms, and
most of them perhaps engaged for the first time in
actual warfare, they no sooner became masters of the
Turkish camp than they began pillaging in every
direction, until the disorder of the conquerors became
even greater than that of the vanquished.
Suddenly the Mussulmans, perceiving that pursuit
has ceased, rally; the battle recommences; and the
Christians are dispersed oter the plain and the hill-
side, astonished at finding themselves flying before an
enemy they had thought annihilated. If we are to
put faith in the tales of the old chroniclers, a singular
incident occurred to add to the misfortunes of the


28






ST. JEAN D'ACRES.


Crusaders, to which they attributed most of the
disasters of the day. According to the story, a white
horse, captured from the enemy, having escaped in
the midst of the mile'e, some soldiers started in his
pursuit. It was supposed they fled before the Mus-
sulmans, and the report immediately spread that the
garrison of Acre had made a sortie, that the infidels
were victorious, and that the Christian camp was
abandoned to pillage. Dismayed at this report, the
Christians no longer fight for victory or booty, but
simply to defend their lives, and the .field of battle
is covered with fugitives who have thrown aside
their arms. In vain the bravest of their chiefs try to
rally them, and lead them back to the combat. They
are carried away by the terror-stricken multitude.
Andre de Brienne is thrown from his horse whilst
trying to rally his soldiers. Stretched on the earth,
and covered with wounds, he fills the air with his
groans; but the danger of his situation, and his dis-
tressing cries, do not move his companions in arms,
nor even his brother, Erard de Brienne, whose rapid
flight nothing can stay. The marquis of Tyre, aban.
doned by his own followers, and left alone in the thick
of the fight, owed his life to the generous bravery of
Guy de Lusignan. Jacques d'Avesnes had lost his
horse, and could neither contend nor fly, when a young
warrior, whose name unfortunately history has not
preserved, offered him his own, and sought death in
the ranks of the enemy, content, by the sacrifice of
himself, to have saved the life of his illustrious chief.
Such were some of the incidents of this remarkable
and disastrous day.
But although the Saracens thus succeeded in re-
covering the ground they had lost, their army was too
much disorganized by their precipitate flight to follow
up the advantages they had gained, and shortly after
this engagement, winter approached, and hostile opera-
tions were in great measure suspended during the
continuance of the rains.


29







When these had passed by, and the spring of 1190
approached, many Mussulman princes came with their
troops to serve under the banner of Saladin, whose
army advanced within sight of the Christian hosts,
with banners displayed, and cymbals and trumpets
playing. Repeated engagements resulted in disas-
ters to the besiegers. "The enemies of God," the
Mussulman historian writes (for as such does the
Mohammedan account all who reject the faith of the
false prophet), "dared to enter the camp of the lions
of Islamism; but they experienced the terrible effects
of the divine anger; they fell beneath the sword of
the Mussulman as leaves fall in autumn beneath the
shock of the tempest. The earth was strewn with
their bodies, like the withered branches of a forest that
has been cut down." Another historian of the same
creed says, The Christians fell under the fire of their
conquerors as the wicked shall fall at the last day into
the house of flame. Nine layers of dead covered the
earth between the sea and the hill, and each contained
a thousand warriors."
On one occasion, whilst the Christians were flying
before the army of Saladin, the garrison made a sortie
from the city, and took captive in the tents a vast
number of women and children who had been left
without defence. The Crusaders, whom night at length
saved from the pursuit of their enemy, returned to
their intrenchments to deplore their double defeat.
Yielding to emotions of despair, they sighed for the
means of returning to Europe, and were already seek-
ing peace at any price from the hands of Saladin,
when hope was once more revived by the arrival of a
fleet bearing a large party of French, English, and
Italian soldiers, under the command of Henry, count
of Champagne.
The city was now vigorously besieged. Henry,
whom the Arabs designated the great count, caused
two battering-rams of prodigious size to b econ-
structed, and two enormous towers of wood, iron, and


ST. JEALN D I ACRES.


30






ST. JEAN D'ACRES.


brass, which cost fifteen hundred golden pieces. With
the assistance of these formidable engines of war the
Christians advanced to the assault, and were more
than once on the point of planting the standard of the
Cross on the walls of the infidels.
The Mussulmans, now shut up in their city, en-
dured the horrors of a protracted siege with heroic
fortitude. To cut off their communication with the
sea, whence they continued to receive reinforcements
and supplies, the Crusaders determined to possess
themselves of the fortifications which commanded the
harbour of Acre, and the command of the perilous
expedition was intrusted to the duke of Austria. A
ship, bearing aloft a wooden tower crowded with armed
men, advanced toward the fort, whilst a bark filled
with lighted combustibles was set adrift for the pur-
pose of burning the Saracen vessels. Everything
seemed to promise success to this daring attempt, but
suddenly the wind changed, the fire-ship was driven
against the floating tower, and it was soon enveloped
in flames. The duke of Austria and many of the
bravest of his warriors had already mounted, sword in
hand, the fort of the infidels, when seeing his vessel
on fire, he jumped into the sea covered with blood and
wounds, and regained the land almost alone. This
was not the only misfortune of the day, for an attempt
made at the same time to storm the town, though
supported by prodigies of valour, was repulsed with
great loss, the victorious enemy pursing the crusading
forces back to their very tents.
Once more all was gloom and despair, and once
more the arrival of a new hero revived the courage
and re-animated the hopes of the Christians. It was
almost in the midst of this double defeat that Fre-
derick, duke of Suabia, appeared under the walls of
Acre. He was anxious to signalize his arrival by a
renewed combat with the Mussulmans, but it was
attended with no advantage or glory.
From this time disasters unequalled in their pre-


81






ST. JEAN D'ACRES.


vious experience befell the soldiers of the Cross.
Each chief was charged with the support of his own
body of followers, and their supplies were subject to
the utmost vicissitudes. The arrival of a fleet would
afford them abundance for a time, but if accident
delayed the ships, they would have to endure the want
of the commonest necessaries of life. As winter a
second time approached them, and the sea became
more boisterous and unfavourable to the arrival of
supplies, the prospect before them became the more
alarming.
They had ceased to expect further succour from the
West, and felt that their only hope now rested in their
arms. With frightful rapidity all the horrors of famine
now accumulated on the unhappy Crusaders. The
charge made for corn became so exorbitant that princes
could not afford to pay it. The council of chiefs en-
deavoured to regulate the price of provisions brought
to the camp, but the attempt caused the supplies to
be kept back, and thus scarcity was increased by the
very means designed to lessen it. In the extremity
that ensued, knights pursued by hunger slew their
horses for food; the intestines of a horse sold for as
much as six golden sous. Nobles, accustomed to all
the delicacies of life, were glad to devour wild herbs,
and sought with avidity for plants and roots they
would never before have deemed fit for the use of
man. Christian soldiers wandered about the camp
like beasts in search of pasture, and it was a common
thing to see gentlemen, who had no means with which
to purchase bread, openly steal whatever came in their
way. At length, when the miseries of their condition
became insupportable, many of the Crusaders fled to
the Mussulmans. Some embraced Islamism in order
to obtain succour in their destitution; others, seizing
vessels, and braving the perils of a stormy sea, went
to pillage the island of Cyprus and the coasts of
Syra.
Winter had commenced; waters covered the plains;


32






ST. JEAN D'ACRES.


the Christians were captives, huddled together in con-
fused and suffering heaps upon the hills. The bodies
of their dead cast up by the waves diffused a pesti-
lential odour around; soon contagious diseases were
superadded to the horrors of famine. The camp was
filled with lamentations and mourning, and each day
witnessed the burial of two or three hundred soldiers.
Many of the most illustrious leaders of the army
found in contagion the death they had sought in vain
upon the field of battle. Frederick, duke of Suabia,
who had escaped all the perils of war, died in his tent,
of sickness and grief. His companions in arms,
weeping his loss, wandered a long time, as an old
chronicler expresses it, like sheep without a shepherd.
They went to Caifas; they came back to Acre; man
of them perished with hunger, and those who survived,
despairing of the Christian cause, for which they had
suffered so much, returned to the West.
Dissensions arose, to add misfortune to misfortune.
Sibylle, wife of Guy de Lusignan, and his two children,
died. Isabella, the sister of Sibylle, was the next heir
to the throne of Jerusalem; and Conrad, the governor
of Tyre, whom the historian Vinisauf compares to
Simon for duplicity, to Ulysses for eloquence, and to
Mithridates for his skill in the use of various lan-
guages, ambitious to reign over Palestine, determined
to marry her, although she was already the wife of
Homfroz de Theron. By his influence the marriage
of Isabella was pronounced void, in spite of the oppo-
sition of the archbishop of Canterbury, and the heiress
of the kingdom of Jerusalem became the bride of
Conrad, on whom the reproach now rested of having
two wives living, one in Syria and the other at
Constantinople.
This scandal, and the rival ambition of the chiefs,
divided the army against itself, when two persons, of
more importance than any that had yet appeared on
the scene, arrived at Acre. These were Richard the
Lion-hearted, and Philip, king of France.
D


33






ST. JEAN D'ACRES.


The news of the approach of these renowned
warriors reached Saladin, who had passed the winter
in the mountain of Karouba. Fatigue, contention,
and sickness had weakened his army as well as that
of the Christians. He was himself sick of a malady
the physicians could not cure, and which had already
on several occasions prevented his accompanying his
warriors to battle. He now sought assistance from
the Mussulman princes, and sent ambassadors to
them in all directions. In every mosque prayers
were offered up for the triumph of his arms, and the
deliverance of Islamism from the dangers that menaced
it; and in every town the imans exhorted the people
to take up arms against the enemies of Mohammed.
Innumerable legions of Christians," they said,
"have come from lands situate beyond Constanti-
nople to snatch from us the conquests the disciples of
the Koran have long enjoyed, and to dispute with us
a territory where the comrades of Omar planted the
standard of the prophet. Spare neither your life nor
your riches to subdue them. Your marches against
the infidels, your perils, your wounds, are all written in
the book of God. Hunger, thirst, fatigue, and death
itself will become treasures for you in heaven, and
will open to you gardens of delight in paradise. In
whatever place you may be, death will find you;
neither your houses nor your high towers will defend
you against his attacks. Go then, and fight in a war
undertaken for the sake of religion; victory or para-
dise awaits you; fear God more than you fear the
infidels. It is Saladin himself who calls you to his
standard; Saladin is the friend of the prophet; like
the prophet, he is the friend of God. If you obey him
not, your families shall be driven from Syria, and God
will put in your place another people worthier than
you. Jerusalem the sister of Medina, and Mecca
will fall again into the hands of the idolaters. Arm
yourselves then with the shield of victory, scatter
these children of fire and of sword whom the sea has


34








disgorged upon our coasts, and remember the words
of the Koran:-' He who abandons his home to defend
his religion shall find abundance of wealth, and a great
company of companions.'"
Animated by these appeals, the Mussulmans flew to
their arms, and flocked in great numbers to the camp
of Saladin.
The Christian hosts now before the walls of Acre,
since the English had added their forces to the army,
presented a spectacle of all that was illustrious in
the chivalry of Europe. The tents occupied by the
French spread over a vast plain, and offered to the
observer a most imposing sight. Philip was accounted
in the East one of the most renowned princes of
Christendom; it was a saying amongst the Mussul-
mans that the king of England surpassed all the
other Christian princes in valour and genius. A
spirit of jealous rivalry springing out of past dissen-
sions existed between the two sovereigns, but they
professed at this time a mutual friendship, which, if
it had continued uninterrupted but a little time,
would have rendered the conquest of Acre easy. But
the souvenirs of the past were constantly arising.
Richard's army was more numerous than that of
Philip, and his treasures more abundant. Yet, not-
withstanding the disagreements produced by these
circumstances, the progress of the siege went on with-
out cessation, the ponderous machines were driven
against the walls, and every day witnessed an assault.
The king of England and the king of France both
fell sick. Philip was confined but a few days to his
tent, and then mounted on horseback to encourage
the combatants by his presence. Richard, whose ill-
ness was of a more serious character, fretted with
impatience, an impatience that tormented him more
than the fever that boiled in his veins. During the
comparative inactivity occasioned by their sickness,
the two kings sent ambassadors to Saladin, and it is
amusing to mark the passages of excessive politeness
D2


ST. JEAN D I ACRES.


35





ST. JEAN D ACRES.


which took place between the leaders of the contend-
ing armies. Saladin offered the Christian monarchs
the choicest fruits of Damascus, and they acknow-
ledged the courtesy in a present of costly jewels. In
this interchange of civilities we see a singular contrast
to the fierce animosity of the strife which both were
eager to renew, and it was not perhaps unnatural for
the Crusaders to see in the presents of the Saracens
more of perfidy and treason than of generosity. The
partisans of the two kings accused each other of having
a guilty understanding with the Mussulmans, an ac-
cusation to which the king of France replied by daily
doing battle in person with the Turks, whilst Richard,
still sick, insisted on being carried to the foot of the
ramparts of the city to stimulate by his presence the
ardour of the assailants.
At length, however, the perils of arms they shared
together, and the growing interest of their common
enterprise, produced a temporary union between the
two princes, and it was agreed that whilst one should
attack the city, the other should watch over the safety
of the camp, and engage the army of Saladin.
In the meanwhile the besieged had not been idle,
but had employed the time, spent by the Christians
in vain disputes, in strengthening the defences of the
city. Thus the garrison within, and the army of
Saladin outside, offered a resistance more formidable
and sustained than had been anticipated. From day-
break the sound of cymbals and of trumpets, the signal
of battle, resounded throughout the Turkish camp and
on the battlements of Acre. Saladin stimulated his
soldiers by his presence; his brother, Malek Adhel,
added the example of his renowned valour. Numerous
engagements were fought at the foot of the hill where
the Christians were encamped. Twice the Crusaders
attempted a general assault, and twice were obliged to
retrace their steps.
In one of the attacks of Saladin, a knight defended
single-handed one of the gates of the camp against a


36






ST. JEAN D'ACRES.


host of Mussulmans. Arabian authors compare this
knight to a demon animated by all the furies of hell.
An enormous cuirass covered his body; arrows, stones,
and lances were alike unable to wound him; every
one who approached him did so only to encounter
death. He alone, in the midst of innumerable ene-
mies, stood unharmed and fearless. This brave warrior
could not be subdued until they brought wild-fire, and
poured it on his head; devoured by flames, he perished
like the war-engines of the Christians, which the be-
sieged had burned under the walls of the town.
Every day the Crusaders redoubled their efforts;
now repulsing the army of Saladin, and now attacking
the garrison of Acre. In one of these assaults they
saw the moats filled up with the dead bodies of their
horses and their comrades fallen before the swords of
their enemy. But neither the sight of death, nor
impediments, nor fatigue, could arrest the impetuous
and determined courage of the Christian soldiers.
When their wooden towers and their battering-rams
were reduced to cinders, they dug down into the
earth, and advanced by subterraneous passages till
they were underneath the foundations of the ramparts.
Every day beheld their adoption of some new means,
or of some fresh engine, to gain possession of the
place. One Arab historian relates that they piled up
near their camp an earthen hill of a prodigious height,
and that throwing the earth continually in advance,
they gradually brought this mountain forward towards
the ramparts of the town. The intervening space
was but less than half an arrow's flight, when the
besieged, issuing forth, cast themselves before the
enormous mass that every day brought nearer to their
walls. Armed with swords and pickaxes, they fought
fiercely with the multitude employed in constructing
it, and sought to arrest its progress by digging a deep
ditch in its front.
The time now approached when the Christians were
to reap such reward as success could give them for


37







ST. JEAN D ACRES.


their protracted sufferings and their heavy losses. The
garrison was greatly enfeebled by the long continu-
ance of hostilities; the city was experiencing the
want of provisions and of the munitions of war; the
soldier who had bravely resisted the severest fatigues
sank before these discouragements; the people mur-
mured against Saladin and their emirs. In this ex-
tremity, Meschtoul, the commandant of the city,
repaired to the tent of Philip Augustus, and said to
him, "For four years we have now been masters of
Acre. When the Mussulmans entered it, they gave
all the inhabitants liberty to transport themselves and
their families whithersoever they pleased. We offer
now to surrender the city to you, and ask but the
same conditions that we have already allowed to
Christians." The king of France, having assembled
the principal generals of the army, replied that the
Crusaders could only consent to spare the inhabitants
and garrison of Acre on condition that the Mussul-
mans should also restore Jerusalem and the other
Christian cities that had fallen into their power since
the battle of Tiberias. The chief of the emirs, irritated
by this refusal, withdrew, swearing by Mohammed that
he would bury himself beneath the ruins of the city.
" Our last struggles," he cried, shall be terrible, and
whilst the angel Redouin conducts one of us to para-
dise, the fiend Malek shall precipitate fifty of you
into hell."
On his return, the enraged commandant fired his
troops with the same indignation; and when the
Christians recommended their assault, they were re-
pulsed with a vigour that filled them with surprise.
In the language of the Arabian historians, the hosts
of the Franks rolled towards the walls with the
rapidity of a tumultuous torrent emptying itself in a
lake, they mounted on the half-ruined ramparts as
wild goats climb upon the steep rocks, whilst the
Mussulmans precipitated themselves on their assail-
ants like stones detached from the tops of mountains.


38







ST. JEAN D'ACRES.


The courage of the Saracens was inspired by despair;
but the ardour of despair is transitory, and the soldiers
of Islamism soon fell into its abyss. Many of the
emirs cast themselves at night into a boat, in order to
seek a refuge in the camp of Saladin, preferring to
expose themselves to the reproaches of the sultan, or
to perish in the waves, to dying beneath the sword of
the Christians. The besieged at length conceived the
project of issuing from the city in the middle of the
night, and braving every effort in an attempt to rejoin
the army of the sultan; but their plan was discovered
by the Crusaders, who guarded every passage by which
the enemy sought to escape. The unhappy refugees
were too eager to save their own lives by an uncon-
ditional capitulation. They promised, in addition to
the surrender of the city, to restore to the Christians
some relics esteemed of great value, and to set at
liberty sixteen hundred prisoners. They engaged,
moreover, to pay two hundred thousand pieces of
gold to the leaders of the Christian army; and they
consented to the whole population being held as hos-
tages in the city until the terms of the treaty were
executed to the utmost.
A solitary Mussulman soldier, effecting his escape,
bore to Saladin the intelligence that the city was
forced to capitulate. The sultan, who had proposed
making a last effort for its relief, learned the news
with profound grief. He immediately convoked his
council, to ascertain if they approved the terms of the
surrender; but scarcely had the principal emirs assem-
bled in his tent, when the standards of the Cross were
suddenly seen to float on the walls and towers of
Acre.
This celebrated siege lasted two years, and occa-
sioned more blood to be shed, and more valour to be
displayed, than would have sufficed for the conquest of
Asia. In the space of two years (we quote the words
of Emmad-Eddin, the Arab) the sword of the Mussul-
mans immolated more than sixty thousand infidels;


39






PASSAGES IN THE


but as fast as they perished on the earth they multi-
plied on the sea; every time they attacked us they
were killed or made prisoners; nevertheless, others
succeeded them; and every hundred who fell, they
replaced with a thousand.
What singular reflections are suggested by this two
years' history of a war, to which, without concert among
themselves, and under the guidance of no great sove-
reign power, peoples flocked from north and south to
fight, beneath the walls of a town in Syria, an enemy
whom they scarcely knew, and from whom certainly they
had nothing to fear! A fugitive king, unable to find
any asylum in his own states, suddenly lays siege, in
company with a few soldiers as destitute as himself, to
a great city. From that moment all Christendom has
its eye fixed on this spot of earth, and directs to it a
continuous stream of warlike men. It is impossible
to define the influence of this protracted struggle on
the ultimate fortunes of Palestine; but it is not im-
probable that the persevering obstinacy which wasted
so many thousands of lives and so many millions of
treasure in the effort to get possession of a town
which, after all, was not the holy city, contributed
much to preserve Islamism and the East from future
more successful enterprises of the Christian world.


PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF NARCISO
LOPEZ.
GENERAL LOPEZ, the ill-fated leader of the bucca-
neering expedition which recently invaded the island
of Cuba (a West Indian colony of the kingdom of
Spain), and who, on the failure of that enterprise, was
publicly executed as a traitor in Havannah, was a man
of a singular and romantic history. Few soldiers have
been more distinguished for valour and a spirit of wild
adventure, and the biography of famous men presents
few contrasts so startling and dismal as is afforded by


40






LIFE OF NARCISO LOPEZ.


the brilliant success and honours of his early career,
and the misery and infamy in which his life closed.
Lopez was born in Venezuela, in South America,
at that time under the dominion of Spain, but since
become an independent state; and from his infancy
was exposed to influences all calculated to make him
an energetic, daring man, fonder of excitement and
danger than of the quietude of domestic and commer-
cial life.
His father was a landed proprietor of considerable
wealth, and his estates in the llanos or plains of
South America swarmed with horses and cattle, the
former roaming about in a comparatively wild state.
Upon the back of one of these, young Lopez would
scramble almost in infancy, and even learned, without
saddle or bridle, to become an accomplished and in-
trepid rider. So fond was he of this exercise, that the
back of a wild horse was where he felt most at home.
His mother was a woman of great vigour of character,
but her influence on her son did more to develop than
to check his distaste to the calm monotony of a life
spent in the ordinary pursuits of civilized society.
Before Lopez had ceased to be a boy, the Spanish
colonies in America became the scene of a revolutionary
war, the inhabitants generally rising to shake off the
yoke of the Spanish crown; and in the troubles that
ensued, the father of Narciso (so our hero was called)
lost nearly the whole of his property, and the lad was
thrown upon the world. He at once adopted the pro-
fession of a soldier, and assisted at the defence of his
native city, which had sided with Bolivar, the famous
" Liberator of Columbia," against the royal forces, by
whom it was besieged. Lopez, at this time, though
only fifteen years of age, was intrusted by his father
with the management of a branch of his business at
Valencia (for family misfortunes had recalled him from
the wild sports of the plains), and the citizens were
induced by false representations and promises on the
part of Bolivar, who sought only to make good his own


41






PASSAGES IN THE


retreat after losing the sanguinary battle of La Puerta,
to make a prolonged and desperate resistance to the
army of the king. The siege lasted for three weeks,
when, as Bolivar did not come to rescue it, the place
surrendered; but the young Narciso, who had taken an
active and heroic part in the defence, contrived with
his father, who was now a ruined man, to escape the
general massacre, in which the victorious troops
indulged.
His escape was a narrow one, and was in part the
consequence of his affectionate solicitude for the safety
of his father, who was believed to be reserved for
assassination in the night. Narciso, for the time
overlooked by the soldiery, had taken refuge with a
large party of negroes, who were generally exempted
from the cruel vengeance of the conquerors, being
regarded, we may suppose, but as tools in the hands of
their masters. As soon, however, as darkness came
on, he issued forth from his hiding-place, with two
negro servants, who accompanied him, to seek tidings
of his father's fate, and if possible, concert some means
for his safety. He could succeed at that time in
neither, and, remembering the danger of any longer
remaining at large, he returned, disheartened, to his
place of refuge, where his eyes were met by a ghastly
sight. No less than eighty-seven bodies of men who
had been the companions of his retreat lay murdered
before him, their throats gaping horribly. The place
had been attacked during his fortunate absence, and he
had thus escaped a similar fate. After this adventure,
he succeeded in hiding himself until the fury of the
soldiers, enraged by the obstinate resistance they had
encountered, died away.
Under such circumstances our hero became a
soldier, but, as if in prophecy of the vicissitudes he
was destined to pass through, his next military
exploits were in direct opposition to the cause he had
defended with such youthful valour at Valencia. The
truth is, he was indignant at the conduct of Bolivar,


42






LIFE OF NARCISO LOPEZ.


and in this but shared the feeling common amongst
his townsmen, who universally regarded and hated the
patriot chief as one who had betrayed them, for his
own preservation, to ruin. Narciso, burning with
revenge, and apparently but little influenced by the
real merits of the controversy, determined to give his
support to the king's side, and accordingly enlisted as
a common soldier in the army of General Moralez.
His rise into notice and distinction was from this
time rapid. The first occasion on which attention was
attracted to his courage and self-possession in the
presence of great danger happened shortly after his
enlistment. The royal army was engaged in an attack
upon a place defended by field-works, part of which
consisted of two bastions connected together with a
curtain of about fifty yards in length. The troops
were divided into two parties, each assaulting one of
the bastions; when, the ammunition of one division
falling short, a signal was made for a further supply.
The officer commanding the other party ordered mules
to be prepared, and loaded with powder and shot, and
then called for volunteers to undertake the perilous
task of conducting them from one end of the curtain
to the other, exposed throughout the line to the
enemy's fire. The danger was twofold, that of perishing
directly by the shot of the besieged, and that of being
blown up by the explosion of the ammunition with
which the mules were laden. One man only answered
to the call,-scarcely, indeed, a man,-it was the lad
Lopez. His gallant offer was of course accepted, and
he set out with his dangerous convoy, the three mules
tied by a string, according to the custom of the country,
the tail of each one being fastened to the head of the
one behind him. When the party was about half-way
across, one of the mules fell dead, and, as ill-luck would
have it, it was the middle one, so that it became
necessary to untie the cord, disengage the dead animal,
and retie the others together, all in the face of an
incessant and murderous fire. The two surviving


43






PASSAGES IN THE


mules were severely wounded, and Lopez himself had
his gun broken by a ball, his pantaloons torn by
another, and his cap pierced by a third. He escaped,
however, without personal hurt, and his extraordinary
valour and presence of mind, the two qualities which
combine to make a good soldier, were rewarded with
immediate promotion, and at the early age of twenty-
three, he found himself a colonel in the royal army of
Spain.
On another occasion, he found himself at the head
of a small body of cavalry, only thirty-eight in number
(for he had lost the greater part of his troops in a
severely-contested engagement), on the flank of the
army, when he received an order to harass the rear of
the retreating enemy. In the execution of this
purpose he had ventured to a considerable distance
from his own forces, when he was seen by Paez, the
revolutionary general, who, indignant at what he
deemed the insolence of so small a force, wheeled about
at the head of his own troop, a picked body of three
hundred men superbly mounted, and charged them at
full speed. Lopez saw the fearful odds against him,
but was not dismayed, and instantly causing his
soldiers to dismount, he formed them into a compact
square, with their lances pointed outwards, and thus
enabled them to sustain the attack of the enemy until
the arrival of reinforcements.
In recognition of his distinguished services, and al-
most unexampled valour, Colonel Lopez was decorated
with the cross of the order of St. Fernando, of the most
illustrious degree, an honour so rarely bestowed, that
in the whole army there was but one soldier who
possessed it besides himself. This reward is not
bestowed at the pleasure of the sovereign, but is
adjudged by a tribunal, to whom the claim is referred,
and by whom counsel and witnesses are heard on either
side, every one being at liberty to interpose an objec-
tion. Lopez was deemed worthy.
In the year 1823 the revolutionary war in South


44






LIFE OF NARCISO LOPEZ.


America was brought to a close by the Spaniards
evacuating Caraccas; and it may be mentioned as a
proof of the estimation in which he was held even by
the revolutionary party, that he was invited by the
patriot government to hold the same post under'them
he had held in the army of Spain. He, however,
declined this offer, and retired to Cuba, in the year
1823.
Having, shortly after this, landed with a small expe-
dition, in a wild part of the South American continent,
on a sort of exploring excursion, he fell in and had a
fierce engagement with a warlike tribe of savage
Indians, and he and his party nearly perished from
want of water. In this dilemma, Lopez became the
hero of a singularly romantic adventure. Striking
into the interior, in search of some pool or spring,
and marching a whole day without discovering any
trace of what they sought, they were approached about
sunset by an Indian warrior, mounted on a magnificent
cream-coloured horse, with black mane and black feet.
They were exhausted with fatigue and thirst, and
made known their extremity to the Indian, who
understood the signs by which they contrived to
express their wants. He intimated that he would
conduct them to water, which they might reach by
daybreak. But his offer suggested a new perplexity.
They were in a hostile country; they had already
fought with a native force. Was it not probable that
this man was an enemy, and that he might direct
them either to some spot remote from all supply,
where they would die a lingering and horrible death, or
to some Indian settlement, where they would encounter
destruction as certain ? They knew not what to do,
but the daring spirit of Lopez put an end to their
uncertainty. He surprised them by an offer to risk
his own life, in order to test the trustworthiness of
the Indian horseman, behind whom he proposed to
mount, and set off at the utmost speed in quest of
water, telling his comrades that if he returned, all


45




PASSAGES IN THE


would of course be well; but that if he did not, they
would conclude that he was killed, that the guide had
played false, and that they must continue their search
in the direction they were already going, and not in
that pointed out by the Indian. On this hazardous
errand he actually started, and his companions re-
mained on the spot to await the result. Away went
Lopez amid the darkness of night, into the depths of
unknown forests, utterly in the power of the strange
man to whose good faith he had committed himself.
The issue of the adventure was fortunate. The Indian
guided him truly; he reached the water, returned
with the welcome tidings, and thus by his intrepidity
became the means of saving the whole expedition from
destruction.
Having married in Cuba, he had occasion to visit
Spain, for the purpose of settling some private affairs;
and rendering some service to the government (it was
at the commencement of the civil war), during an out-
break in the capital, Lopez was sent to join the army.
Opportunities for distinguishing himself by the display
of his remarkable coolness and courage were not slow
in presenting themselves. Whilst serving as an aide-
de-camp to General Valdez, he and his party were
surrounded in a mountain-pass by a formidable body
of the enemy, and so completely shut up, that to
escape, or to secure assistance by sending their friends
intelligence of their situation, seemed equally impos-
sible. The nearest force to whom they could send for
help was at a distance of ten or twelve miles. Lopez
boldly undertook to accomplish the task of bringing
reinforcements to their assistance. The attempt was
looked upon as hopeless, but in the desperate circum-
stances in which the party was placed, they yielded to
the persuasions of the young colonel, and accepted his
offer. The general desired him to take any number
of men he required for his purpose.
"I could not do it with half the division," he
replied; but let me have your piebald horse I recom-


46




LIFE OF NARCISO LOPEZ. 47
mended you to buy; and my orderly, a brave fellow,
who will follow me through any danger, and die with
me if needs must, shall mount my own."
So it was arranged. Lopez gave his favourite
charger to his man, and himself took possession of the
general's horse. The two set off together.
Danger levels all distinctions, and, not deeming it
possible that both could survive the daring attempt
they were making, the master and his servant came to
an agreement as to the course the latter should take if
the former were killed. He was not to abandon, at
whatever hazard, the endeavour to carry the order for
reinforcements, to its destination.
"And now," said Lopez, his instructions to his
orderly being ended, "keep close behind me, and
regulate your pace by mine."
They then set off at full speed along a road, which
passed between two eminences, both occupied by the
enemy. Lopez then slackened his speed. His plan
was to lull the suspicions of his foes, to whom he was
now visible enough, and give them the idea of deserters
approaching with perfect confidence in their safety
and welcome. The stratagem succeeded, so much so
that two parties who had separated themselves from
the enemy, on either side of the road, in order to
intercept them, slackened the pace at which they
moved down the hill-side for that purpose. This was
just what the colonel desired, and, like Cooper's
spy, in effecting the escape of Dunwoodie, he an-
xiously watched for the moment when he could with
most chance of safety throw off disguise, and trust to
the fleetness of their good steeds. It would not do to
let the enemy approach too near, and it would be
equally dangerous, on the other hand, prematurely to
challenge a hot pursuit by any appearance of flight.
Nicely calculating the distance, he at length ex-
claimed, Now then, let us be off!" and instantly he
and his man set spurs to their horses, and rushed
impetuously away. The enemy saw they had been





PASSAGES IN THE


deceived, and as soon as they had recovered their
surprise, let fly from each side a shower of bullets
upon our hardy adventurers. Happily they were un-
harmed, and before they could be cut off, eluded all
pursuit, to the astonishment of the enemy and of their
own party, both of whom were eagerly watching the
exploit. The timely reinforcement brought back by
Lopez was the means of saving General Valdez's
party, who must otherwise certainly have perished.
We do not intend to recount the military career of
our hero beyond the acts of daring we have thus men-
tioned, and which, with many others of a similar kind,
were long current among the Spanish army, until the
unfortunate and ill-advised descent upon the island of
Cuba, which led to the execution of Lopez as a traitor
to the crown he had served with such distinguished
advantage to it and honour to himself.
After his marriage, Lopez looked upon Cuba as his
country, and whilst his old friend, General Valdez,
was governor of that island, filled the office of governor
of Trinidad, commander of the military commis-
sion, &c. When Valdez was deposed, Lopez became
dissatisfied with the state of Cuba, and gradually
worked himself into the belief that it was treated with
great injustice and oppression by Spain. From the
moment this idea took possession of his mind, he
resolved upon an attempt to establish the independ-
ence of the island. As his designs became known by
some means to the government, Lopez was obliged to
escape to America, where he employed his time,
money, and influence, in organizing an expedition for
the "invasion of Cuba."
His first attempt to carry his designs into execution
was made in May, 1850, when at the head of three
divisions of men, amounting in all to 609 men, he
landed at Cardenas; but, after taking that town and
meeting with some temporary success, he was obliged
to abandon the enterprise, and returned to the United
States.


48




LIFE OF NARCISO LOPEZ.


A second expedition-the one which proved so fatal
to its gallant, but misguided, leader-sailed from New
Orleans in the Pampero steamer on the 15th of Au-
gust, 1851, and landed at Morilla, in the island of
Cuba, on the 11th of August, at eleven o'clock at
night. It was composed of 480 men, nearly the whole
of whom have since been destroyed.
A surviving member of this ill-fated party has given
us a graphic description of the sufferings they encoun-
tered-sufferings which the most daring valour could
do nothing to mitigate. From this statement it ap-
pears that, disappointed in his expectations of assist-
ance from the natives of Cuba, and gradually losing
his own followers by death and desertion, Lopez, in a
state of great fatigue and hunger, sought rest and
food in a farmhouse, where he was captured whilst
asleep. A few days after, he was executed as a
traitor, in the public square of the city of Havannah.
Who can do otherwise than commiserate his un-
happy fate ? With many of the qualities of a hero-
bravery, self-possession, and fertility of resource-he
would seem to have wanted the rectitude of principle
essential to a career of real glory. Lopez was a bold,
daring man, with a passion for exciting adventure-a
character useful in war, but mischievous in peace. In
his element, in the camp and on the battle-field, he
found the even tenor of an every-day life uncongenial
to his tastes and alien to his habits. His thirst for
adventure was like the passion for excitement that
leads so many men to the gambling-table; and we
find him flying from peace, and recklessly courting
peril, thoughtless of every consideration but the
gratification of his own wild tastes. This led him,
on the cessation of the war between Spain and her
colonies, to embark in that exploring, or, as it might
perhaps be not unfairly called, that marauding expe-
dition on the coast of South America, in the course
of which he met with the adventure with the Indian
horseman; and this it may be supposed had much to
It


49






50 THE CONSPIRATORS OF NEPAUL.
do with his invasion of Cuba, though he endeavoured
to veil the motives of this rash act under a zeal for
the political independence of his adopted country.
Whilst admiring the brilliant qualities which Lopez
certainly possessed, let us not then at the same time
suffer our admiration to blind us to his real defects.
With less physical daring, and a higher moral prin-
ciple, he would have been a more useful and happy
man. His best qualities were the virtues of an age
that is happily passing away. The soldier is every
day becoming a less important person, and as we
advance further and further in the cultivation of the
arts of peace, and in the recognition of the brother-
hood of nations, we shall learn to pay less homage to
mere courage, which is, after all, but physical insensi-
bility to danger, and set a higher value on those fea-
tures of character which constitute the truest moral
heroism-integrity of principle, firmness of purpose,
moderation in prosperity, and patience in suffering.


THE CONSPIRATORS OF NEPAUL.
MosT of our readers, who happened to be in Lon-
don during the summer of 1850, will remember a tall
and handsome oriental, gorgeously attired, and be-
dizened with jewels of almost fabulous value, who
was seen driving daily about the streets and parks,
and attended almost all the places of popular amuse-
ment. He was one of the sights of the season, and,
from the extreme rarity of such a spectacle, the most
attractive amongst them.
The name of this sojourner from the far-east was
Jung Bahadoor, prime minister and commander-in-
chief in the Indian principality of Nepaul. He arrived
in England, accompanied by a numerous retinue of
attendants and interpreters, the bearer of costly pre-
sents to the Queen; and having made as long a stay
in Europe as it was prudent for him to be absent






THE CONSPIRATORS OF NEPAUL.


from his native country, he returned to resume his
high offices of state; and the sequel proved that it was
well for his fortunes, and perhaps for his life, that he
did so. The circumstances which immediately followed
his arrival in Nepaul are interesting, not only because
they display in a striking light the coolness and pre-
sence of mind of this remarkable man, but because
they show that he had not failed to learn a lesson of
magnanimity and forbearance from the Christianity
and civilization of the West.
General Jung Bahadoor is the eldest of seven
brothers, of whom the younger are named as follows,
-General Bum Bahadoor, General Budree Nur Sing,
General Khrishna Bahadoor, Colonel Jugget Shum
Shere Jung Bahadoor, Colonel Dhere Shum Shere
Jung Bahadoor, and a sixth, a colonel, whose name
has not reached us. The brothers had also a first
cousin named Colonel Jye Bahadoor.
The ambassador, on his departure from Nepaul,
appointed his second brother, Bum Bahadoor, to offi-
ciate for him as prime minister, and his next brother,
Budree Nur Sing, to act as commander-in-chief, during
his absence. Budree Sing, having his ambition grati-
fied by the possession of power, did not at all like the
idea of relinquishing it, and in the prospect of his
brother's return from England, entered into a con-
spiracy with his cousin, the object of which was to
deprive Jung Bahadoor of his offices, and to secure
them for themselves. To understand the means they
adopted to accomplish this very ungrateful and un-
worthy end, it must be remembered that the Hindoo
religion is strict in enjoining abstinence from certain
indulgences, such as the use of wine, and in forbidding
the use of any vessels which have been rendered un-
clean by the touch of persons of a different creed. If
any Hindoo gentleman is found disregarding the law
of his religion on these matters, he immediately loses
caste, that is forfeits his position in society, and
becomes an outcast.
E 2


51






52 THE CONSPIRATORS OF NEPAUL.
The treacherous brother and cousin of Jung Baha.
door thought the easiest way of effecting their pur-
pose was to charge him with forfeiting his caste by
various acts performed whilst in England; such as
associating with, and partaking food with Englishmen,
drinking wine, &c.; knowing that nothing would so
surely disgust the higher officers of state, and the
leading members of society in Nepaul, as such a
contempt for the religion of the nation.
Their first scheme was to secure the co-operation
of some member of the royal family, and as they knew
the reigning sovereign would not enter into their
plans, since he had been placed on the throne mainly
by the exertions of Jung Bahadoor himself, they in-
duced the Nistuda Sahit, one of the king's brothers,
to join them, telling him that he should be made king
if they succeeded, and persuading him that their cause
was just, and that they could not fail to prosper when
they had got rid of a man who had treated their reli-
gion so contemptuously. The Nistuda Sahit seems to
have been a weak-minded and ambitious man, and
readily entered into the plans of the conspirators;
and they succeeded in prevailing upon Kutree, one of
the party who had accompanied the prince to England,
and who was a most bigoted Hindoo, to spread
injurious reports as to what had taken place in
Europe. To get this man entirely into their power,
they charged him with allowing a deficiency in the trea-
sure under his care, and kept this charge hanging over
his head. But, before they proceeded further, they
thought it necessary to provide some one who should
undertake the civil government in case of their suc-
cess, as they were themselves soldiers, and not com-
petent to the management of anything but military
affairs. They determined, after much consultation, on
offering the post to Bum Bahadoor, who acted as
prime minister during his brother's absence. They
proceeded to his residence for the purpose, but had
completely mistaken their man; having to deal with






THE CONSPIRATORS OF NEPAUL.


the shrewdest politician in Nepaul, a man to whom
Jung Bahadoor was under deep obligations, and who
has ever shown himself worthy of the implicit con-
fidence reposed in him by the eldest brother of the
family. Bum Bahadoor at once pretended to join the
plot, and so completely threw the conspirators off
their guard by his apparent anxiety on the subject,
that they developed all the details. He told them
everything should have his hearty concurrence for
carrying out their excellent project" on the morrow.
It will be sufficient here merely to state that an
assassin (a good rifle marksman) was to have been
hired, and placed behind one of the many buildings
between Jung Bahadoor's residence and that of the
king, where, as the minister was proceeding to the
Durbar, he was to have been shot; and the leaders
had matters so arranged that the party escorting
the minister would have been massacred to a man,
and the remainder of the scheme carried out-no
difficult matter, certainly, had Jung Bahadoor been
killed.
We must now return to Bum Bahadoor; who, the
moment his brother and cousin had retired, betook
himself to the minister's house. So little did Jung
Bahadoor anticipate anything of the kind, that he had
dismissed all his attendants, and was alone with an
English gentleman, talking over his English adven-
tures, at eleven o'clock at night, when the first intelli-
gence of Bum Bahadoor having arrived on urgent
business was communicated to him. The messenger
ran up from the women's side of the house, and put-
ting his mouth close to the minister's ear, said a few
words, sufficient to change entirely the expression of
Jung Bahadoor's countenance. Wishing his friend
good night," and expressing a hope of meeting him
on the morrow, the minister retired to the room in
which Bum Bahadoor awaited him.
The meeting between the brothers was very short;
Bum Bahadoor burst into tears, and said, "I know


53






54 THE CONSPIRATORS OF NEPAUL.
you will suspect my being a party, but this I cannot
help; your life is in danger, you have but a few hours
to save yourself." He then explained rapidly all he
knew of the affair. Jung Bahadoor, with complete
self-possession, thanked his brother for his inform-
ation, desired him to wait until further orders, and
retiring to his armoury, with two trusty officers on
guard at his quarters, proceeded to load a couple of
double rifles and a pair of pistols; put on his sword
and hookeree; and with those weapons (after enjoin-
ing the strictest secrecy on the officers) he walked
out through a private path in his garden, leaving it
by a small wicket, entirely alone. He went first to
Colonel Jugget Shum Shere Bahadoor (the elder of
the brothers who accompanied him to England), gave
him orders to proceed at once, with a company of
picked men, to the residence of General Jye Baha-
oor, to change his guards before going in, and to
bring him either alive or dead within an hour to the
Kote.
Ask no questions," said the minister; and punish
all resistance quickly. Let me have these orders
obeyed. In two hours' time I shall expect you at
the place of meeting."
Jung Bahadoor then proceeded (still alone) to the
gun-sheds in the Tondee Khet; ordered the officers
in command to load the heavy artillery with grape,
and to instruct the sentries to bayonet any man of
any rank who approached the guns without answering
his challenge; but strictly forbade any firing unless
by his own orders.
Passing quickly on to the house of Colonel Dhere
Shum Shere Jung Bahadoor (the youngest of the
brothers who were in England), he ordered him in a
few sharp decisive sentences to change all the guards
of the city with his own men, allow no bodies of armed
men to pass certain streets, and to be prepared to
come down to any place where he might be required
on an emergency, with a force sufficient to bear down






THE CONSPIRATORS OF NEPAUL.


all opposition. Having done this, the minister hurried
on to the house of the Burra captain, Mana Mere
Adhi Karee, relying on him as the most undaunted
and trustworthy man of his party, having been well
tried on more than one former occasion. The orders
to this officer were, Go, with a good body of your
men, and bring my brother, Budree Nur Sing, dead or
alive, to the Kote immediately; I rely on you en-
tirely." Having said this much, the minister went to
the Kote close by, and immediately ordered buglers,
always in waiting there, to sound the assembly
throughout the city, and in a very short time a large
body of the troops were congregated. A hum issued
from the crowd, indicating a restlessness and anxiety
to know what this gathering of the soldiers was for at
such an hour (it was now one o'clock in the morning).
Shortly after, Colonel Jugget Shum Shere marched in
at the head of his men, bringing General Jye Bahadoor
pinioned with him; and passing on to the minister's
presence, in a respectful manner said, Your orders
are obeyed. Here is General Jye Bahadoor, whom
you directed me to bring before you."
The minister answered, "Good; wait." Immedi-
ately after, the Burra captain was announced, and,
on coming forward, presented his prisoner, General
Budree Nur Sing, to his brother. The look which the
minister gave this man will never be forgotten by
those who witnessed it. The prisoner was not a man
to quail; his countenance bore a bold, determined look,
without any indication of fear. A few words passed
between the brothers. Jung Bahadoor asked, "Why
did you conspire against me ?"
"You have thrown away your caste among the
Feringhees."
How ?"
By eating and drinking with them."
"Indeed Who was your informant ?"
"Kubrer Kutree Kazee, who accompanied you to
England."


55






56 THE CONSPIRATORS OF NEPAUL.
On this, a man was ordered to bring the said Kazee
before the minister. He came in a few minutes,
trembling from head to foot.
Minister. So I lost my caste in England, did I ?"
Kazee. I never said you did."
Minister. "There is my informant" (pointing to
Budree Nur Sing).
Kazee. "Forgive me, forgive me!"
MKinister. You are very pure, are you not ?"
Kazee. "I did not lose my caste."
Minister. Did you not drink water from the same
vessel out of which I had taken water, after me ?"
Kazee. "Certainly."
Minister. "How then could you say I was unclean,
and this to my brother. However, further argument
is useless here. Take this man's caste" (to two
drummers).
This was immediately done. Then, turning to the
assembled troops, he said,
To those who are disposed to believe me, I say,
I have preserved my caste through many severe
trials ; in one instance being forty-eight hours without
water, after leaving Cairo, in the land of the Moham-
medan; but if any or all of you do not believe me, I
say, supposing I have eaten beef and drunk wine, let
any man dare to say a word to me."
While this was going on, all the officers of rank had
assembled, and the king and the ex-king (both of
whom had been sent to by the minister) had arrived
in the Kote.
A council was soon formed, to whom the minister
submitted the whole matter of the conspiracy.
After consulting for some time, the opinion of the
king was solicited as to the punishment of the parties
concerned in it.
The king immediately said, Death for all."
Your own brother ?" asked Jung Bahadoor.
"Yes," was the curt reply.
The ex-king consented also to the death of his son.






THE CONSPIRATORS OF NEPAUL.


Every officer of the durbar sealed the document after
the king had done so. The minister's seal alone
remained to be affixed. When the moonshee brought
the paper to him, he said, No; the life of the king's
brother shall not be taken, nor that of mine. Say, now,
what punishment they are to suffer, instead of being
deprived of life."
This caused much anxiety to the durbar, who were
at a loss for a long time as to what they should recom-
mend. At last they unanimously resolved that the
prisoners should be deprived of sight." Again the
minister refused to sanction this sentence, which he
said was worse than death. He dissolved the council,
and ordered the prisoners to be confined in the jail
until further orders. That is, as our newspapers
would say, in reporting an English trial, "sentence
was deferred."
The prince, having dismissed the troops to their
quarters, the whole city was, by four o'clock in the
morning, as quiet as usual. Jung Bahadoor returned
home, lay down, and slept quietly until eight, and
then galloped over, alone, well armed however, to the
British residency. The resident received him imme-
diately. In a few words, he explained all that had
taken place, and then added,
"Oh! had I not been in England, all these men
would have suffered death before this; but if I
allowed the laws of the land to be carried out, your
newspapers in England would have been full of attacks
on me for my cruelty and bloodthirstiness. You do
not, however, understand our savage people. If I
restore these men to their position, they will never
give me credit for leniency, but say I was afraid to
kill them, and take my life on the first opportunity.
Advise me, therefore, what to do."
The prisoners were eventually ordered off to the
Snowy Mountains,-the Siberia of Nepaul,-whence,
in all probability, they will never return.
Thus we see the influence of that milder code of


57






ANECDOTES OF THE


laws and manners, which Christianity has established
in happy England, is beginning to be felt in those
provinces of Asia with which the citizens of the West
have hitherto had little or no intercourse, and the
power of that public opinion to some extent acknow-
ledged, which serves amongst us to curb the excesses
of human passion. We trust that the visit of General
Jung Bahadoor to Europe, and his long sojourn in the
capital of England,-an event of extraordinary novelty
and interest in the life of an eastern potentate,-will
lead to the introduction of many reforms into Nepaul,
and that he may be the means of establishing among
his countrymen much of what his good sense led him
to approve and admire in the course of his distant
travels.


ANECDOTES OF THE FOREST AND THE
CHASE.
As stated in a former chapter, wolves are still
found in many countries of Europe. What renders
them so terrible a foe to both men and cattle, is their
insatiate appetite for blood, and the extreme delicacy
of scent which enables them to track their victims
with unerring accuracy. The wolf is a beast of great
ferocity of appearance, and of immense muscular
power, with fiery eyes, a large mouth, and jaws and
teeth of prodigious strength. He usually measures
about three feet in length, and two feet and a half in
height.
The aversion of the wolf to vegetable food (with the
exception of grapes, which he will gorge until he
becomes intoxicated, in the hot summer months), and
the ingenuity and perseverance of his pursuit after
flesh, render him the inveterate enemy of the traveller
and farmer in neighborhoods infested with his pre-
sence, whilst his boldness and ferocity make him a
favourite object of pursuit with the more adventurous


58





FOREST AND THE CHASE.


and daring class of sportsmen. His character alto-
gether excludes him from our sympathy. Terrible as
are the ravages of the huge lions against whom Jules
Gerard has declared war in the forests of Africa, there
is withal a dignity, and, under many circumstances,
a magnanimity about these kingly beasts, that elicit
our respect. They appear to belong to a class of
nobles in the brute creation. But the wolf is a
dastard; he steals upon his unwary victim with the
cunning of the serpent, and if the opportunity lies in
his way, will rather carry off the infant from his
cradle, than attack the strong man, or the cattle,
whom nature has furnished with means of defence.
When wolves are numerous, as in the forests of
Burgundy, plans for destroying them are projected on
a very extensive scale. At fixed seasons of the year,
large parties of huntsmen assemble, pits are dug,
traps set, and poison laid near their haunts. But, in
addition to this wholesale slaughter, in which the
farmers and peasants seek by every means in their
power to exterminate their common enemy, the wolf
is hunted with dogs by parties of gentlemen, chiefly
for the sake of the sport itself. The dogs generally
made use of for this purpose are large greyhounds and
bloodhounds. The former worry the brute by flying
at his haunches, and so impede his flight until the
bloodhound comes up and brings him to bay, when he
contends with great obstinacy for his life, biting with
his tremendous fangs every assailant that comes
within reach, and continuing to sustain the struggle
at great odds, for a length of time that sufficiently
attests his muscular vigour and astonishing powers of
endurance. He is generally despatched by a pistol-shot
from the huntsmen.
Another mode of carrying on the warfare against
these beasts, is for a party to lie in wait along their
accustomed track, armed with fowling-pieces, whilst
others hunt them out from their lair. The sportsman
loves the excitement of the chase, but, as we have said,


59







the husbandman and peasant, who are kept in constant
terror, and obliged to fortify their homes against the
midnight depredations of the wolf with as much care,
and to watch with as constant a vigilance, as a
besieged city against the enemy that beleaguers it,
care for little but the brute's destruction, and will
adopt any and every means to secure his wholesale
slaughter.

A farmer of La Madeleine, on the borders of Bur-
gundy, who was surrounded in all directions by wolves,
chancing to have a young colt die, thought it a good
opportunity to lay a bait for some of his savage
enemies, and accordingly, at nightfall, placed it on a
truss of straw in the midst of his farmyard, surrounded
on all sides by high walls. To the folding-gates which
led into the yard he had attached ropes, communi-
cating with the interior of the house, so that at any
moment it was possible to close them. Having muz-
zled and shut up the dogs, to prevent their barking,
the farmer and his family took up their post of obser-
vation within doors, to watch the events of the night.
It was not long before they heard the sound of
wolves advancing, and could presently perceive them,
by the light of the moon, sniffing the air at the en-
trance of the yard, evidently attracted powerfully by
the tempting aroma of horse-flesh on the one hand, and
apprehensive of some peril to themselves if they
entered in, on the other. They moved about restlessly;
now apparently yielding to the power of appetite, and
then again stopped by fear. At last, one great
monster, whose hunger was keener, or whose courage
greater than that of the rest, bounded onward, seized
a portion of the prey, and quickly made his retreat,
with the piece of flesh in his mouth. Emboldened by
his impunity, the rest of the pack entered, and greedily
seized upon the carrion (which, it must be mentioned,
the farmer had heavily weighted, to prevent its being
carried away). As soon' as they had fairly commenced


60


ANECDOTES OF THE





FOREST AND THE CHASE.


their feast, the signal was given, the ropes drawn, the
gates suddenly closed, and the wolves, eight in number,
found themselves captives, encompassed by walls too
lofty for them to leap, and without a hole through
which they could find exit; walls, in fact, built for the
express purpose of serving as a barrier against their
incursions, and therefore equally capable of serving
as their prison. Seeing their foes thus secured, the
party in the house retired for the night, deferring
further operations till the morning.
At break of day they looked upon the scene. Their
captives were restless and uneasy. Their sagacity
told them they had been trapped, and they were
running round and round like rats in a cage, per-
petually searching for some mode of escape. The
farmer and his men took their fire-arms, and station-
ing themselves, some on the top of the wall, and others
at windows, opened their fire.
They succeeded but slowly in their work of de-
struction. The wolf is tenacious of life, the men were
indifferent marksmen, and the difficulty of hitting the
creatures was rendered greater by their incessant
motion. Irritated by such wounds as they received,
they ran hither and thither with mad impetuosity,
and bounded with immense agility in their efforts either
to get at their assailants, or to overleap the walls
by which they were imprisoned.
At length one of the party, a mere youth, in order
to take steadier aim, bestrode the top of the wall, his
feet hanging down on either side. A large and power-
ful wolf, making a desperate spring, brought his jaws
fearfully near the young man's foot, who, attempting
hurriedly to lift his leg out of danger, lost his balance,
and fell headlong into the courtyard beneath. The
wolves were immediately upon him, eager to avenge
the art that had ensnared them, and the wounds from
which they were smarting. For a moment conster-
nation seized the companions of the poor lad. The
fearful shriek he uttered as he fell, and the sight of


61





ANECDOTES OF THE


the wolves fastening on his throat, paralyzed them.
Their first instinct was to cease firing, for they saw
that their bullets might hit the young man. The
farmer was the first to recover his presence of mind,
and with gallant self-devotion, leaped into the yard to
the rescue, and found himself in the midst of eight
furious wolves. His example was followed by the
rest of the party, and a terrific conflict ensued. Each
side fought with the energy of desperation, and the
victim whose mischance had precipitated this terrible
scene lay bleeding and groaning in the midst. Man's
strength, unaided by arms, is of little avail against
monsters so powerful, and the wolves were rapidly
getting the upper hand of their enfeebled combatants,
when the farmer's wife, who was a terrified witness of
the scene, remembered the dogs that were muzzled
and shut up in the house. She immediately unbound
their mouths, and threw them from a window into
the yard. This incident changed the fortune of the
day. The struggle was sustained with renewed vigour,
and at the end of half an hour the eight wolves lay
dead upon the ground; one half of the dogs of the
farm lay at their side; the lad, who had fallen from
the wall, too, was a mangled corpse, and not a man
had escaped without serious wounds.
Numerous are the tragedies of this nature recounted
by the firesides of Burgundy, where the presence of
these fierce creatures, in numbers scarcely diminished
by all the efforts annually made to extirpate them,
occasions a constant feeling of terror.

Some few years back an aged woman might be seen
roaming in the glades of the forest, or sitting at a
little cottage-door, seemingly lost to all the activity of
the world around her. Yet she was not inactive,
only living apart from her kind, in a world of her own
consciousness and recollections. She would laugh,
and sing snatches of old songs, sometimes wild and


62





FOREST AND THE CHASE.


sometimes plaintive, such as might have amused the
varying moods of her childhood. She would rock in
her arms, with the solicitude of a fond mother, some
inanimate object, as a bundle of dried ferns, or a log
of wood, dandling it on her knee as she might an infant,
or hushing it with a lullaby to sleep.
Poor creature her mind wandered; she was mad.
It is many years, since, in her matron prime, her
only child fell victim to a terrible fate. He had left
her in the pride of youth and beauty, a loving son, an
expectant husband; and when the next day a few
crushed and fleshless bones were shown her, and she
was told that this was all that was left of her boy,
she laughed in derision. Alas! it was the laugh of
insanity.
The tale is a dreadful one. The young man, on the
eve of his bridal, went to the forest to catch some
turtle-doves for a present to his betrothed, and as the
evening shades began to deepen around him, he left
the beaten track, and struck out on some shorter way.
It is the custom here to set traps for the capture of
the wolves, and one of these lay in the path of the
youth, as he skipped lightly along, singing gaily, as he
thought of the damsel to whom he was bearing his
love-token, and of the happiness of his bridal day.
The traquenard, or wolf-trap,. consisted of two
immense jaws, formed of a circle of iron, four or five
feet in circumference, each furnished with a long row
of sharp teeth, like those of a saw, which fitted into
each other. Its spring was so powerful that it re-
quired two men to set it, and it grasped the unlucky
beast it ensnared, with the firmness of a vice.
When one of these instruments has been set in
the track of a wolf, it is customary to warn the casual
passenger of the danger of the spot by tying stones
and pieces of dead wood to the branches of the
neighboring trees, and at the end of the path-
way that leads to it, so that the peasant winding
his way through the forest, and observing these


63





ANECDOTES OF THE


familiar signals, turns aside, and pursues another
path.
But poor Adolphe had his mind engaged with
other thoughts. He was picturing to himself the
gentle smiles that would reward him for his gift, and
indulging in the dreams that make the future so
beautiful to the anticipations of the young. Besides,
it was growing dark, and even near objects were
already becoming indistinct. Eager only to have his
journey done, he pressed on through thorns and
rambles in the direction he judged would take him
most quickly home, when his course was suddenly
arrested, a moment of intense agony was-followed by
unconsciousness-and when his senses returned to
him, he found himself caught in the wolf-trap. Its
great jaws held him by the leg, the teeth set deeply
in his flesh, and even grating the bone.
No situation could be more horrible. Death was
the only prospect before him-a lingering death from
exhaustion and suffering, or a still more terrible de-
struction from the ravenous wolves that were prowling
about him. The dreadful occurrences of the succeed-
ing hours we can only conjecture. No eye of man
rested on the scene. We can only fancy the mad-
dened eagerness with which he would strive to regain
his liberty as he awoke to the dreadful realities of
his position. How, as thoughts of his home, his
mother, and his bride crowded upon his mind, he
would try, with the energy of despair, to tear open
the iron jaws that held him captive, and how a sicken-
ing sensation would steal over his heart as he found
his utmost efforts unavailing. What followed we may
infer from the appearances presented by the scene on
the following morning, when the personwho had set the
traquenard came to examine it. Its teeth held the
bone of a human leg; about it was a deep pool of
blood; around were scattered human remains, frag-
ments of dress, and of hair, and a few bones crushed
and broken. There was lying a hatchet soiled with


64





FOREST AND THE CHASE.


blood, such as the peasants of these parts are accus-
tomed always to carry with them in the forests, and
in the neighboring thickets were three wolves, ex-
hausted and dying; their heads cut open, and their
throats and foreparts hacked.
The history of that fearful night was plain. Poor
Adolphe had heard the distant cries of the wolf; as
they approached nearer-for the trap was directly in
their track-he resolved to sell his life dearly. As the
monsters scented their prey, and glared on their ill-
fated victim with eyes like balls of fire, he lifted his
hatchet to strike the foremost of his foes. Three
fell before his blows, but the odds against him were
too great. The pack rushed on, and the youth, whose
pulse but a few short hours before beat high with
hope and love, was a bleeding corpse.
They gathered his bones, and gave them decent
burial; and to this day, as they pass by the spot,
the peasants of the country drop a tear to the memory
of the ill-fated Adolphe.

Not only do these beasts of prey carry their depre-
dations into the haunts of men -they are equally
relentless in their warfare upon those who are denizens
of the forest as much as themselves. The timid
hare and the peaceful and gentle roebuck become
their nightly prey.
Some sportsmen are accustomed to indulge the
exciting pastime of hut-shooting at night on the
banks of the little lakes or pools of water formed by
some swollen streamlet, interrupted in its course in
the depths of the forest. Concealing himself as
effectually as he can from the ferocious creatures
whose territory he has invaded, silent and motionless,
lest his foes should discover his retreat, the hut-
hunter waits in solemn and impressive solitude the
approach of night, when the various tribes of animals,
who have spent the sultry hours of the summer day
F


65





ANECDOTES OF THE


stretched out at length beneath the bushes, or in the
deep shadow of some rock, come forth to assuage
their thirst and seek their food. The hut-hunter may
now pursue his sport, or, if he be disposed to lay
aside his gun, may witness a curious and painful
picture of forest-life by night.
As the early shades of evening fall, myriads of
birds, of every variety of plumage, assemble to sport
upon the banks of the pool, and dip their wings in its
waters, whilst the air is thick with insect life. Then
hares and rabbits may be seen feeding on the tender
grass, and deer moving with graceful and cautious
step, turning their heads timidly round, as if to scent
the presence of danger; nor is their precaution need-
less-the wolves are approaching. The quick instinct
of the poor roebuck warns him of the fact, before the
eye or ear of the watchman can detect any sign. The
group herd hurriedly together, and turn about with
uneasy gesture, sniffing the air in every direction.
Alas! there is no escape. The wily wolves have en-
compassed them, hemmed them in, and on all sides
are hurrying on to secure their prey. In a few
minutes all is over. The assailants, seemingly ever
famished and craving for blood, have reached the
spot; they seize their victims by the throat, whose
sharp quick cries of agony are soon stifled, and their
yet quivering bodies carried off to the depths of the
forest to be devoured.
The wild boar is another scourge of La Belle France,
as savage and ferocious as when William de la Marck
hunted him in the forest of Ardennes, as pleasantly re-
lated by Sir Walter Scott in the novel of Quentin Dur-
ward. The large tusk with which these bristly fellows
are furnished renders them very formidable antagonists,
and they will frequently rip up the horses and dogs
that attack them, and gore the hunter to death. The
charge from a musket entering the body of a wild boar
will render him furious with pain, and the attempt to
despatch him with knives is too perilous and exciting


66





FOREST AND THE CHASE.


to suit the tastes of any but sportsmen of strong
nerves. The beast tears the ground, and utters ter-
rific cries, his nostrils steaming, and his eyes flashing
fire, until, rearing himself in the convulsive agony of
death, his great frame falls a heavy and lifeless mass
upon the earth.

Let us once more transport ourselves from these
forest scenes of France to the continent of Africa,-
not, however, on this occasion, to the coasts bordering
the Mediterranean, where we have already followed
the exploits of our lion-slayer, but to the southern
extremity, in the vicinity of the Cape of Good Hope,
and the young colony of Natal. Here, stretching
into the interior, are large districts, which till within
a few years back had never re-echoed to the sound of
firearms, densely peopled with curious birds, with
savage beasts, and noxious reptiles. The elephant,
the rhinoceros, the hippopotamus, and the buffalo
appear on the scene, the roar of the lion is heard in
the distance, and the high points of the rocks are
crowned with the hymna and panther.
Amongst the inhabitants of southern Africa the
elephant is considered the most dangerous of all the
beasts of the forest; the most intrepid lion-hunter
will often hesitate to penetrate his retreat, notwith-
standing the strong inducement held out by the value
of the prize. Many a sanguinary episode of the chase
is written on the memory of these men. Whole
families have been trampled to death in their tents
beneath the feet of these monsters passing over them
like a hurricane from the desert.
Elephants are frequently captured alive, and the
most usual means of ensnaring them is to make use
of the docility of individuals of the same species
already subdued. This is, however, chiefly the case
in Asia, where the elephant is of great value as a
beast of burden, and as an indispensable part of all
state ceremonials and public displays.
r2


67






ANECDOTES OF THE


A description of the method of capturing wild
elephants in the island of Ceylon will not be out of
place here, by way of parenthesis. In the midst of
the dense forest, an open space is cleared, of about
three or four acres in extent, and enclosed with the
stems of strong trees fixed firmly in the ground, with
transverse beams and supporters tied together with
stripes of bamboo cane. Interstices are left between
these of about two feet in dimension, to allow the
mahoots, or elephant-hunters, to pass in or out.
Thousands of men are employed to drive the sur-
rounding elephants towards this kraal, and large fires
are lighted during the night, at some distance apart,
forming a circle of perhaps twenty miles. These fires
are placed on stands of light construction, which are
moved each day gradually nearer to each other as the
circle grows narrower. Elephants have a great dread
of fire, and always retreat before it. The drivers, too,
utter loud shouts, make a great noise with the tom-
tom, a species of drum, and discharge firearms.
The elephants are thus gradually driven to a confined
space, not exceeding a mile in width, and forming the
approach to the kraal, towards which it narrows, until
it terminates in the gate leading within the enclosure.
Four or five tame elephants are allowed to stray about
the entrance, and on the approach of the wild animals
they mingle with them, caress them, and actually lead
them to the kraal, as though they found a pleasure in
helping man to subjugate their own species.
The scenery of a Cingalese forest is of the most
gorgeous and luxuriant description. Every variety of
graceful stem and foliage,- every form and tint of
beauty in the multitudinous flowers, each branch
drooping with berries, and thickly covered with the
brightest crimson, purple, blue, and yellow creepers,
refresh the eye of the traveller on its outskirts; whilst
in its deeper recesses trees of colossal dimensions
spread out their clusters of deep green leaves against
the sunny sky. The elephant has a noble and withal


68





FOREST AND THE CHASE.


a pleasant abode, but his enemy seeks for him in its
farthest retirement, and lures him from the freedom
of his forest glades to captivity and servitude.
A gentleman who had joined a hunting party in the
summer of 1847, thus describes the incidents of the
capture: We patiently waited for the entrance of
the elephants into the kraal, from one in the afternoon
till half-past nine at night. It was thought that some
rascality was at work to cause disappointment, when
all at once the guns went bang, bang, and the voices
of the drivers became louder. As the elephants ap-
proached, a shout was given by the people on the stand,
but too soon, as it frightened them back, and it was
thought they had escaped. The repeated firing of
guns was heard once more; the noise increased, drivers
shouting, tom-toms beating, then a sudden rush, when
in an instant, as if by magic, around the enclosure was
one brilliant glare of light. Blue lights, torches, and
fires shed a dazzling blaze on the scene, as the mad-
dened herd crushed and dashed through the kraal,
spreading destruction around. Huge trees were
crushed to splinters, and dashed to the earth, and the
spot which had been a portion of dense forest and
jungle, appeared in a few minutes like a ploughed
field, whilst their trumpeting rent the air, as they
raced and tore about, round and round the enclosure,
which was surrounded with blazing piles of wood, and
thousands of people from all parts of the island.
Eighteen elephants were captured, some of them the
largest I have seen, and three very small ones. Next
morning the tying commenced. Six tame elephants
entered the enclosure, the mahoots, armed with
spears, mounted on their backs; the wild ones kept
in a herd, the punchies, or little ones, running under
the bellies of their mothers. Often would these affec-
tionate and noble animals, when maddened by the
hunters, cover their little ones with their trunks to
protect them, as they raced up and down. Now and
then a charge was made; one of the herd would


69






ANECDOTES OF THE


elevate his trunk, his tail stretched out and his huge
ear cocked, and run through the enclosure bellowing
most frightfully. Two of the tame would single him
out, one at each side, while, should he prove unruly,
a large tusker would follow, goading him behind; then
crushed between the two, the mahoot slipped a noose
on one of his hind legs; he was dragged to a tree,
and there tied, and his three other legs afterwards
secured in like manner. So the herd were taken one
by one, till all were secured, except the three little
punchies, which were allowed to go at large. It was
truly a melancholy sight to see these noble animals,
who had roamed these wilds the undisputed monarchs
of the forests of Ceylon, overcome, exhausted, bound
captive, crying most piteously, some of them lying
stretched on their side, and the little ones sucking
their captive mothers."
But to return from this digression to the elephant
of Africa. Unlike his Asiatic brother, he is com-
paratively seldom captured alive, but is more properly
the object of the hunter, who seeks to slay him, and
carry off his tusks either to exhibit as trophies of his
prowess, or to dispose of as articles of commerce.
The elephant herds are not met with until the ad-
venturous traveller reaches the far interior of the con-
tinent. What is denominated the land of elephants,"
begins with the remote and almost endless forests
beyond the mountains of Bamangwato, to the north
and north-east of Natal and Kafirland. They occa-
sionally descend below, but not frequently, and then
are only to be met with in small numbers. In the
vast unexplored plains of central Africa, they are no
doubt as numerous as they are found to be in Asia.
The Bamangwato chain of mountains are clothed from
their base upwards, with large and handsome trees,
and the vegetation of the forests beyond is of the
most luxuriant description. Such, however, are the
size and prodigious strength of the African elephant
(who will leave on the earth a footprint measuring


70





FOREST AND THE CHASE.


two feet in diameter), that immense branches are
found broken off in all directions, and every now and
then a giant tree may be seen uprooted out of the
ground, or broken short across its stem. A large tree
in an inverted position, with its root uppermost in the
air, is by no means an uncommon sight.
The male, or bull elephant, is very much larger than
the female, and is provided with two enormous tusks,
arched and tapering. These measure as much as from
six to eight feet in length, and weigh from sixty to a
hundred pounds each. Some are greatly larger and
heavier than this. The females, unlike the elephants
of Asia, are also provided with tusks.
In appearance the wild elephant is exceedingly
majestic and imposing, and in spite of his huge frame,
and apparently clumsy limbs, his movements, as he
marches with a bold, free, and sweeping step through
his native forests, are graceful and gentle. Until his
anger is fairly aroused by an attack, he stands in great
dread of man, and a child can put a herd to flight;
but when provoked and excited by the chase, he be-
comes a formidable and dangerous antagonist, and the
most difficult of all animals to subdue.
Amongst the most renowned of the hunters of
South Africa, may be named M. Adolphe Delagorgue,
before whom upwards of eight hundred buffaloes,
fifty-six rhinoceroses, forty-three elephants, and thirty
hippopotami, besides a large number of smaller
animals, are said to have fallen in the space of a single
twelvemonth. Without attendance, and almost un-
armed, he has succeeded by great courage, coolness,
and skill, in waging a war of destruction against these
powerful denizens of the wilds of Africa. Clad in a
simple blouse, and carrying on his shoulder a single-
barrelled fowling-piece, Delagorgue, on his first land-
ing in Africa, marched for several successive days
towards the interior, beneath the rays of a burning
sun, across a country inhabited by a scattered and de-
graded people, too miserable to offer him the simplest


71





S ANECDOTES OF THE


rites of hospitality. His first experience of the wild
sports of Africa, was found in the pursuit of an ostrich,
the giant of birds." The next strange creature he
saw bounding at his feet, was the river wolf, a species
of hyena, of singular character and habits, very dis-
tinct from the ordinary animal of that name, and
once supposed to change its sex every year. The
common hyena of Southern Africa may be regarded
as the scavenger of the deserts, who feeds upon the
putrifying remains of dead animals, and especially
upon fish thrown up on the banks of the rivers, and
thus prevents the air being filled with pestilent
vapours. Such were a few of the first objects that
presented themselves in the novel scenes, amid which
the enterprising hunter, who had left Europe in
search of more exciting adventures than her forests
afforded, found himself.
Our own countryman, Mr. Gordon Cumming, may
be mentioned as holding a prominent place among the
class of sportsmen to which M. Delagorgue belongs.
Mr. Cumming penetrated into the far interior of
Southern Africa, farther than the foot of civilized
man had ever trodden before, and spent upwards of
five years in the wilderness, apart from the habitations
of his race. During this period the waggon was his
only home, and even this he often deserted, and alone,
or attended only by savages, proceeded on distant ex-
peditions, leaving his few followers encamped round
his baggage. Days and nights he passed on these
occasions in his solitary hunting-hole, near some
drinking-place, watching the lion and elephant who
passed, and sported, unconscious of the proximity of
man.
The rhinoceros is one of the fiercest of the wild
beasts of Africa. Even the lion will fly before him,
and he is often known to kill the largest elephants,
by tearing open their sides with his terrible tusk.
Mr. Cumming once observed an old bull, or black
rhinoceros, a hundred yards in advance of him, and,


72





FOREST AND THE CHASE.


immediately firing, sent a bullet between his shoulders.
The beast, startled for a moment, looked about him,
and then made off, blowing tremendously, and the blood
dripping from his wound. His assailant followed,
through a large herd of zebras and springboks, who
gazed on him with profound astonishment. He fired
a second barrel, but missed his aim, and then continued
to ride alongside of his prey, expecting every moment
to see him come to bay. At last the beast fell flat on
the ground, but immediately recovered his feet, and
pursued his way. Mr. Cumming, growing weary with
the chase, and determining to bring matters to a
crisis, spurred his horse, dashed ahead, and rode right
in the monster's path. The rhinoceros, irritated by
this act of daring, instantly charged him, and followed
at a furious pace for several hundred yards, his great
horny snout close at the horse's tail. The horse was
greatly terrified, and exerted himself to the utmost to
get away, to which circumstance alone the hunter was
indebted for his escape.
On Mr. Cumming's arrival in the land of elephants,
he found abundance of sport to satisfy his ardent love
of exciting adventure. On one occasion, he and his
followers disturbed a herd of bull elephants, who were
feeding in a forest, and started off at a gallop in their
track. They soon beheld them, five in number, walk-
ing slowly along, and, as if heated with the pace at
which they had retreated, refreshing themselves with
large volumes of water, which they discharged from
their capacious stomachs, and showered back upon
their bodies with their trunks. One of them fell, after
receiving twenty-four shots.

But whilst the hardy hunter is thus eager in the
pursuit of the elephant, the lion, and the tiger, as
objects of sport, rencontres with these creatures fre-
quently befall those to whom they are objects only of
dislike and terror. They invade the farmhouse of the


. 73






ANECDOTES OF THE


bushman and the African village; and, making their
home in the jungle, often come unexpectedly across
the path of the traveller. Mr. Moffat, the missionary,
tells an exciting story of an adventure of this kind.
"The following fact," he says, will show the
fearful dangers to which solitary travellers are some-
times exposed. A man belonging to Mr. Schmeleus's
congregation, at Bethany, returning homewards from
a visit to his friends, took a circuitous course, in order
to pass a small fountain, or rather pool, where he
hoped to kill an antelope, to carry home to his family.
The sun had risen to some height by the time he
reached the spot, and seeing no game, he laid his gun
down on a shelving low rock, the back part of which
was covered over with a species of dwarf thorn-bushes.
He went to the water, took a hearty drink, and re-
turned to the rock, smoked his pipe, and, being a little
tired, fell asleep. In a short time, the heat reflected
from the rock awoke him, and, opening his eyes, he
saw a large lion, crouching before him, with its eyes
glaring in his face, and within little more than a yard
of his feet. He sat motionless for some minutes, till
he had recovered his presence of mind; then, eyeing
his gun, moved his hand slowly towards it. The lion,
seeing him, raised its head, and gave a tremendous
roar; he made another and another attempt, but the
gun being far beyond his reach, he gave it up, as the
lion seemed well aware of his object, and was enraged
whenever he attempted to move his hand.
His situation now became painful in the extreme;
the rock on which he sat became so hot, that he could
scarcely bear his naked feet to touch it, and kept
moving them, alternately placing one above the other.
The day passed, and the night also, but the lion
scarcely ever moved from the spot; the sun rose
again, and its intense heat soon rendered his feet past
feeling. At noon the lion rose, and walked to the
water, only a few yards distant, looking behind as it
went, lest the man should move, and, seeing him


74 ,





FOREST AND THE CHASE.


stretch out his hand to take his gun, turned in a rage,
and was on the point of springing upon him. The
animal went to the water, drank, and, returning, lay
down again at the edge of the rock.
Another night passed. The man, in describing it,
said he knew not whether he slept, but if he did it must
have been with his eyes open, for he always saw the
lion at his feet. Next day, in the forenoon, the
animal went again to the water, and, while there, he
listened to some noise, apparently from an opposite
quarter, and disappeared in the bushes. The man
now made another effort, and seized his gun, but, on
attempting to rise, he fell, his ankles being without
power. With his gun in his hand, he crept towards
the water, and drank, but, looking at his feet, he saw,
as he expressed it, his toes roasted off, and his skin
torn off with the grass. Thus he sat a few moments,
expecting the lion's return, when he was resolved to
send the contents of the gun through its head; but, as
it did not appear, tying his gun to his back, the poor
man made the best of his way on his hands and knees,
to the nearest path, hoping some solitary individual
might pass. He could go no further, when providen-
tially a person came up, who took him to a place of
safety, from whence he obtained help, though he lost
his toes, and was a cripple for life."
The same gentleman relates another anecdote of a
man who had once been in the veritable jaws of a lion.
He was one of a party of hunters, a dozen or more in
number, and the whole were asleep one night, with a
circle of bushes placed round their fire. When the
blaze was extinguished, a lion sprang into the midst of
the party, seized one of them by his shoulder, and
dragged him off to some distance. The others, aroused
by the scuffle, snatched up their guns, and, not know-
ing one of their number had been carried off, fired in
the direction whence the noise proceeded. One ball
happened to wound the lion, and, in trying to roar, it
let the man drop from its grasp, who instantly ran off,


75








leaving his mantle, and bolted in among his companions,
crying out, "Do not shoot me," for they supposed for
a moment that he was the lion. He was accustomed
to show the ugly marks of the animal's teeth in his
shoulder in proof of his tale.



YARNS OF THE WHALING SERVICE.
THE dangers of the whaler arise, not only from the
peculiar phenomena of the treacherous seas in which
e plies his craft-among which that of becoming in-
volved in, and crushed amongst, masses of floating ice,
is the most imminent but from the prodigious
strength and activity of the leviathan, against whom
his warfare is carried on. One of these creatures fre-
quently measures from seventy to eighty feet long,
and his movements, when attacked and wounded, are
singularly rapid and energetic. A better idea of its
colossal dimensions than that conveyed by figures,
may be derived from the fact, that the open mouth of
a whale is sufficiently capacious to contain a ship's
jolly-boat full of men. It is commonly six or eight
feet wide, ten or twelve feet high, and fifteen or six-
teen feet long. The whale is, however, incapable of
swallowing any large body such as a man, in conse-
quence of his throat being remarkably narrow. This
monarch of the deep, when rising to the surface of the
ocean, and so rendered visible to man,
Stretched like a monster, sleeps or swims,
And seems a moving land."
The fishing season usually commences about the
middle of May, and continues as late as September, or
even October. The principal seat of the fishery is a
large open sea, called Baffin's Bay, on the other side
of Greenland. A whaling ship carries a crew of from
forty to fifty men, but the fishing is carried on in
boats, of which there are six or seven attached to each


76


YARNS OF THE





WHALING SERVICE.


ship. The instruments made use of to kill the fish
are harpoons and lances, the former consisting of an
iron shank, with a large barbed head, like a gigantic
fish-hook. The shank is attached to a rope, about two
inches in thickness, and 120 fathoms in length. Each
boat has six of these lines, making a total length of
720 fathoms, or 4,320 feet. The harpoon is employed
to hook the whale, and secure him at the end of the
rope, until he has exhausted his strength in struggles
or efforts to escape, and then on his rising to the sur-
face, he is despatched with lances, which are nothing
more than a stock or handle of fir-wood, of about six
feet in length, tipped with a thin steel head, made
exceedingly sharp.
In attacking the whale, the first thing to do is to
approach him sufficiently near to take aim without
discovery; for which purpose the fisher rows directly
upon him, and the instant before the boat touches,
buries the harpoon in his back. Now the peril of the
adventurous fishermen in reality commences. The
surprise and agony of the wounded monster find vent
in convulsive struggles, in the midst of which the
boat is subject to violent blows from its head, its tail,
or its huge fins. It is a common occurrence for
limbs to be broken, and life to be lost in this terrific
encounter; and frequently the boat itself is upset, or
broken to pieces, and the crew thrown into the sea.
One or two adventures of actual occurrence will
serve to illustrate the nature and imminence of these
perils. The signal of a whale having been given as
usual from the masthead, and the customary prepa-
rations having been made for the attack, one of the
party relates the casualties that befel the boats in the
following words:-" It was my duty to steer the
mate's boat, and she happened to be the fastest
puller, so that although we left the ship together, and
for a few rods kept nearly head and head with each
other, still we knew well enough that as soon as the
word came from the mate to 'give way,' we should


77







drop the others in a moment, so we did not fret our-
selves, but kept cool for a tight pull when the whale
should show himself upon the surface of the water
again, which he did the moment after. 'Here she is,'
cried the mate, 'and not over ten rods from the boat.
Now, my dear fellow, lay hard back! Spring hard,
I tell you. There she blows! Only give way, my
boys, and she is ours.' The boat bounded forward
like a thing of life. 'Spring like tigers,' said the
mate, his voice sinking almost to a whisper. I looked
over my shoulder to see what kind of a chance I was
about to have, at the same time pulling at my own
oar with all my might. We were going on her star-
board quarter, just the chance I liked to fasten to a
whale. Stand up,' shouted the mate, and in a mo-
ment I was on my feet, and in the next moment I
had two harpoons to the hitches into her. 'Stern all!
stern all !' sung out the mate, as he saw the iron enter
the whale. 'Come here, my boy,' said he to me. We
shifted ends; he to the head, and I to the stern of
the boat. The whale started off like lightning. Hold
on line,' said the mate, and again we started after her
like an arrow; from the bow. 'Haul me on to that
whale,' he shouted; and all hands turned to hauling
line, while I coiled it away in the stern-sheets. We
had got nearly up to the whale when she took to
sounding, taking the line right up and down from the
head of the boat. I had two turns of the line round
the loggerhead, and was holding on as much as the
boat would bear, when, all at once, another large
whale, that we knew nothing about, shot up out of the
water, nearly her whole length in a slanting position,
hanging directly over the boat. I threw off the turns
from the loggerhead, and shouted to the men to
'stern;' but it was of no use. She fell the whole
length of her body on the boat. I heard a crash!
And as I went down I felt a pressure of water
directly over my head, caused, as I thought, by the
whale's flukes as she struck. How long I was under
water I know not; but I remember that all looked


78


YARNS OF THE





WHALING SERVICE.


dark above me, and that I tried very hard to shove
my head through in order to breathe. At last I suc-
ceeded; but what a sight was that on which I gazed
when I found myself on the surface of the water!
About a rod off was the whale that we were fast to,
thrashing the water into a foam with his flukes, the
ocean red with blood, and the crimson streams pouring
from the wounds in the whale's side made by the har-
poons. In another direction I could see pieces of the
boat floating around; at the distance of two or three
miles I could occasionally get a glimpse of the ship as
I rode on the top of a swell, and not a human being
in sight. Not losing heart or hope, I struck out for
a piece of the stern of our once beautiful boat, a few
yards distant. The crew came up one after another,
catching at anything they could see to help to keep
them afloat. One poor fellow came paddling along
with two or three oars under him, crying out that his
back was broken. Another of the crew and myself
got him on a piece of the boat that we had got hold
of. His thighs were broken, and he could not move
his legs at all. The party was soon picked up; and
then for the first time perceived that one of their
number was missing. He had been the midship oar-
man, and the whale fell directly over him, and probably
killed him in a moment."
In another instance a whale being chased, suddenly
turned, and advanced to meet his assailants,who, forget-
ting prudence in the excitement of the pursuit, rushed
on until the boat came into contact with the head of
the monster with such violence, that the men were all
thrown out of their seats. The whale, being at the
same moment wounded, rolled over on his back, and a
heavy sea striking the boat, threw it and its entire
crew into the animal's mouth. The men, with sudden
and well-timed agility, succeeded in leaping from the
dangerous cavern, as the huge jaws, descending,
crushed the frail boat to atoms, and were fortunately
picked up by another crew.
The following incident is related partly in the lan-


79








guage of one who was himself an actor in the scenes
described, having been one of the hands of the cap-
tain's boat. Upon getting into a "gam," or company
of whales, this boat, together with that of one of the
mate's, pulled for a single whale that was seen at a
distance from the others, and succeeded in getting
square up to their victim unperceived. In a twinkling
the boat-steerer sprang to his feet, and, as he darted
his second harpoon, the bow of the boat grounded
on the body of the whale, but was instantly sterned
off," and before the whale had sufficiently recovered
from his surprise to show fight, the "cedar" was out
of the reach of his flukes.
The captain, who now took his place in the bow of
the boat, seized his lance, and the oarsmen again
shot the boat ahead; but before he could plunge the
lance, the whale pitched down and disappeared. The
line attached to the harpoon, being of great length, is
coiled very carefully and compactly in a large tub in
the centre of the boat; from thence it passes to the
stern, and around a post called the loggerhead, firmly
secured to the frame of the boat; and it is used for
checking the line by friction as it runs out, a round
turn" being taken for that purpose. From the logger-
head the line passes along the whole length of the
boat between the men, and leads out through a notch
in the bow to the harpoons, two of which are always
attached to the line's end.
Soon as the whale disappeared, the line commenced
running through the tub so rapidly that, as it rubbed
round the loggerhead, sparks of fire flew from it in a
stream. As the different coils run from the tub, they
sometimes, when not well laid down, get "foul" or
tangled, in which case there is great danger, for, in
attempting to clear it, a turn will get by accident
round an arm or a leg. As any one can see, there is
little hope for the unhappy man thus entangled, for,
unless the line be cut instantly, the limb is either lost,
or the man goes overboard.


80


YARNS OF THE
















































WhaliiB Service.


K


p. 80.


-----~--
r






WHALING SERVICE.


A few years since, one of the most active and
energetic of our whaling captains was thus taken over-
board by the line, and had the singular good fortune
to survive to tell the story. The whale was sounding
very swiftly when the line became entangled. The
boat-steerer, who was at his post in the stern of the
boat tending the line, instantly threw the turn off the
loggerhead, and the tangled part ran forward, and
caught in the bows. The captain was seen to stoop
to clear it, and then at once to disappear. The boat-
steerer seized the hatchet, which is always at hand,
and chopped the line, with the faint hope that when
it slackened the captain could extricate himself.
The accident being so sudden and dreadful as almost
to stupify the amazed crew, neither of them spake a
word, but each eye was fixed upon the sea with fearful
interest. Several minutes had elapsed, and the last
hope was expiring, when an object was seen to rise to
the surface a short way from the boat, which, though
exhibiting no sign of animation, was speedily reached,
and the body of the captain, apparently lifeless, was
lifted into the boat. It was evident that vitality was
not extinct, and, to the joy of the little crew, symp-
toms of consciousness became visible in a few minutes,
and the oars were lustily plied to reach the ship. By
means of the usual remedies, the resuscitated captain
was in a few days, in his own words, as good as
new."
In giving an account of the accident and his sin-
gular escape, he said, that as soon as he discovered the
line had caught in the bow of the boat, he stooped to
clear it, and attempted to throw it out from the
% chock," so that it might run free. In doing this, he
must have caught a turn round his left wrist, and felt
himself dragged overboard. He was perfectly conscious
while he was rushing down, down, with unknown force
and swiftness; and it appeared to him that his arm
would be torn from his body, so great was the resist-
ance of the water. He was well aware of his perilous


81







M2 YARNS OF THE
condition, and that his only chance for life was to cut
the line; but he could not remove his right arm from
his side, to which it was pressed by the force of the
element through which he was drawn.
When he first opened his eyes, it appeared as if a
stream of fire was passing before them ; but as it
descended it grew dark, and he felt a terrible pressure
on his brain, and a roaring as of thunder in his ears.
Yet he was conscious of his situation, and made
several efforts to reach the knife that was in his belt.
At last, as he felt his strength failing, and his brain
reeling, the line for an instant slackened; he reached
his knife, and instantly that the line again became
taut, its edge was upon it, and by a desperate effort of
his exhausted energies he freed himself. After this
he only remembered a feeling of suffocation, a gurgling
spasm, and all was over, until he awoke to an agonizing
sense of pain in the boat.
But to come back from this digression. The whale
to which our hero's boat was now fast took out a large
portion of the line with great rapidity before it was
deemed prudent to check it; then an extra turn was
taken round the loggerhead, and the strain upon it
became very great; for the whale, continuing to de-
scend, would bring the bow of the boat down till the
water was just about to rush over the gunwale and
fill it, when the line would be "surged," or slacked
out.
Sometimes, when the line is nearly spent, and
there is great danger of losing the whale by having
it all run out, the disposition to hold on has been
fatally indulged too far, and the boat taken down.
One boat was thus lost on the "False Banks," and
her whole crew drowned. And very lately the whaling
bark Janet, of Westport, lost her captain and boat's
crew of five men; they were all carried down and
drowned by the boat-line getting foul while they were
fast to a whale.
In the present instance, before taking all their line,





WHALING SERVICE.


the whale began to ascend, and as it became slack-
ened, the line was hauled in, "hand over hand," by
the boat's crew, and coiled away by the boat-steerer.
The moment the whale came to the surface, he went
smoking off like a locomotive with an express." They
held manfully to the line, and with oars peaked, ready
to be seized in a moment, they dashed along in the
track of the whale. Had they been fast yoked to a
team of wild horses on a plank road, their rate of
travelling could hardly have been quicker. Mile-
stones, trees, and rails were all one in their Gilpin
race; and, Mazeppa like, as they dashed along at the
heels of the monster, they could only see one white
bank of foam, which rolled up before them higher
than the bow of the boat, as if it would momently
rush aboard.
The whale, in this instance, decided that their ride
should not be altogether barren of variety, for they
soon found themselves rushing into the midst of loose
whales, who, having been disturbed by the other
boats, were merrily fluking and snorting all around,
and playing their mad antics and gambols. The other
boats had also fastened, and as their whale, too, seemed
to have a fondness for company, they were all in a
mass together.
At length, as the first whale slackened his speed,
they hauled up to him, and the captain darted his
lance adroitly, which took effect. The second mate,
who had kept as near as possible during the chase,
now fastened with his barbed irons, and whichsoever
way the harassed whale turned, he met an enemy.
Weakened with the loss of blood, that was now jetted
forth from his huge nostrils in torrents, the subdued
monster soon became passive, and his captors lay off
to a safe distance to wait the last struggle. This was
speedily over; for, after a few moments of convulsive
writhing, there came the final spasm, which is always
terrible to see. The surrounding waters were lashed
into foam, and all previous exhibitions of power were
G2


83








as nothing compared with the incredible strength put
forth in the flurry."
At last, leaping almost clear from the water, the
whale pitched down head foremost, and as their
lines tautened, they commenced hauling in hand over
hand, expecting that he would die under water, and
that the body would rise directly; but in this they
were deceived. The strain upon the lines soon indi-
cated that the whale was sinking, and it was all in
vain they endeavoured to check its downward ten-
dency. It would sink like lead in spite of all their
efforts, and they were obliged at last to cut the lines
in order to keep the boats from going down with it.
Thus they lost, not only the fruits of many hours
of severe toil, but a large quantity of line, and the
valuable harpoons also, besides the incalculable moral
detriment and loss of spirits from such a disap-
pointment.

Some few years ago, in latitude about 240 South,
and longitude 400 West, an old weather-worn and bar-
nacled whale-ship was working slowly along on a wind,
homeward-bound, or after another sperm whale, if one
should heave in sight. Her try-works" were send-
ing up a smoke, black as night, in huge volumes, for
they were trying out an eighty barreller not long
taken.
The deck was lined with casks, and the main-
hatches off, men engaged in the blubber-room cut-
ting up the blanket pieces into horse pieces ready for
mincing; others picking the pieces from one tub to
another, ready for the mincers; some tending the
fires, some filling up casks with hot oil from the cooler;
every man busy and each at his place; but the decks
confusedly strewn with barrels, and tubs, and whaling
gear, like a street with goods in it, after a fire.
All at once, says an old whaler, in a yarn of random
recollections of his youth, all at once, a voice clear as
the lark, and to the ear of the whaler far sweeter,


84


YARNS OF THE






WHALING SERVICE.


rang through the ship, "There she blows!" Again,
and again it is repeated, at regular intervals. Now
the captain hails the masthead: Where away is that
whale, and what do you call her ?"
Sperm whale, sir; three points on the weather-
bow; not over two miles off."
Get your boats ready; slack down the fires; and
stand by to lower away !"
The boats' crews each stand by their own boat,
some of the men help to put in the tub of line, others
lay down the boat-tackle falls in such a way that they
will run clear. The boat-steerer bends on his har-
poons, the gripes are cast clear of the boats, and now
comes the word, Hoist and swing!" In a moment
the boats are hanging by their tackles, and clear of
the cranes, ready for the word Lower away!" The
mates in the mean time were aloft, watching the
movements of the whale, in order to judge how to
pull for her.
Now comes the word, "Lower away!" In a
moment all the boats are off, and in a chase, at a good
speed, in order to see who will be up with the whale
first. However, at this time, it did not make so much
difference which boat pulled the best, as the whale
peaked her flukes, and went down before any boat
came up with her. Now each boat-header uses his
own judgment as to where the whale will come up next,
for a sperm whale is almost always travelling when
she is down, or under water. The whale was gone an
hour when we caught sight of the signal at the main,
which said plainly that the whale was up. All eyes
gaze eagerly round in all directions for her.
There she is," cries one of the men, "not twenty
rods from the chief mate's boat! There, he sees
her!"
"Down to your oars, lads!" said the captain, in
whose boat I was. "Give way hard!" Now, then, the
little boat jumps again, sending the spray in rainbows
from the bow. Spring hard, my dear fellows; if


85




University of Florida Home Page
© 2004 - 2010 University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries.
All rights reserved.

Acceptable Use, Copyright, and Disclaimer Statement
Last updated October 10, 2010 - - mvs