thence to the wall, in which every night the
calves are tied, to protect them from the storms
or wild beasts. Now it would be natural to
suppose, that should the hyæna enter, he
would seize the first object for his prey,
especially as the natives always lie with the fire
at their feet; but, notwithstanding this, the
constant practice of this animal has been in
every instance to pass by the calves in the
area, and even by the fire, and take the
children from under the mother's kaross, and
this in such a gentle and cautious manner,
that the poor parent has been unconscious of
her loss until the cries of the little innocent
have reached her from without, when a close
prisoner in the jaws of the monster." In the
above horrid narrative, the hyæna is called
wolf: its more common vernacular name
among the Cape colonists.

From these and many similar testimonies
by African travellers, from Le Vaillant and
Bruce down to Denham and Gordon
Cumming, we may infer that the hyæna,
although it subsists principally on the remains of
animals that have died or been killed by
others, does not refuse to grapple with a
living prey when it can do so stealthily, or
when it can overpower such prey by force of
numbers.

The gloomy abodes of the hyæna are caves
and the recesses of rocky hill-sides, or the
vaults of old sepulchres, deserted dwellings,
and ancient ruins. Here it abides in slothful
slumber during the broad light and heat of
day, and as darkness falls, emerges from its
lair to fulfil its loathsome or cruel purposes.
To these haunts it drags the carcases or
parts which have remained after its hunger
has been satiated on the spot during the
nocturnal prowl, and in process of time leaves
many peculiar and unmistakeable characteristics
of its domestic life. Marvellously have
these evidences been traced out by the
perspicacity of our great geologist, Buckland, in
the Yorkshire caves, which in the very olden
time, before human tradition or history,
formed the dwellings of fell hyænas, as
they prowled about the moor-sides and
valleys of Yorkshire. But, into the interesting
and instructive particulars of this
discovery, my present limits forbid me to enter.

From the earliest periods of history, the
hyæna has especially attracted the attention
of zoologists; and the striking peculiarities
of its habits, gait, and voice, have excited the
imaginative faculty to set down more than
has ever fallen under the sober observation of
modern naturalists. Even old Aristotle, whom
they claim as the father of their science, and
who has so generally been confirmed in what
he has advanced respecting the animals he
was able to observe, hazards some strange
and apocryphal bits in his account of the
crocuta. Cuvier, indeed, excuses the allegation
that that quadruped differed from others
in having only one bone in its neck, by good-
naturedly suggesting that the Stagyrite might
have dissected an old hyæna, in which, from
the frequent and violent strain that the
cervical vertebræ are subject to in the living
animal, those seven bones might have become
anchylosed or soldered together into ons
piece. From the good old gossipping Roman
Encyclopædist we know what to expect, and we
read his " Naturalis Historia " more with the
view of being amused by the stories that were
current among the vulgar, and perhaps the
polite circles of Imperial Rome, than of gaining
instruction from any exercise of Pliny's
own eyes on the beautiful and varied nature
that surrounded him.

Doubtless, the interest of the lovely
patricians who, from the dress circles of the
amphitheatre, looked down on the ten hyænas
introduced to be fought with, baited, and
slaughtered before their eyes in the famous
year 1,000 of the foundation of the eternal
City, was vastly enhanced by the remarks of
their polite and well-read Cicerone. " Those
hideous brutes—fair and noble dames—are
wont to repair to the shepherds' huts and
imitate the human voice, and even learn some
person's name, who, when he answers to the
call and comes out, is immediately torn to
pieces." Oh! dreadful: can it be possible?
Yes, ladies, the elder Plinius hath written it.*

If Mr. Mitchell has hitherto failed in teaching
the hyæna to rival the parrot, perhaps it
may be because he has not tried the laughing
brute with the Latin tongue.

The myth of the untameable ferocity of the
hyæna, like that of the quill-shooting dexterity
of the porcupine, is now limited to the lore of
those dear zoological instructors of our childhood
—the showmen of the travelling menageries.
And, verily, I would fain exchange a
good deal of the sober certainties of animal
biography, imparted by my accurate and
respected authority of the R. S., for some of
those beliefs that thrilled through my youthful
breast.

Certain it is that the aspect of the hyæna
does him some injustice; the beast is not so
bad as he looks. Pennant testifies to having
seen, in London, a hyæna as obedient and
tractable as a dog. Buffon narrates that
there was a hyæna shown in Paris, in his
time, which had been tamed when young, and
was apparently divested of its natural ferocity.
The Rev. Mr. Bingley, in his amusing Animal
Biography, states that " Mr. John Hunter
had, at Earl's Court, a hyæna, near eighteen
mouths old, that was so tame as to admit
strangers to approach and touch him. After
Mr. Hunter's death it was sold to a travelling
exhibitor of animals. For a few months
previously to his being carried into the
country, he was lodged in the Tower. The
keeper informs me that he there continued

* " Sermonem humanum inter pastorum stabula assimulare,
nomenque alicujus addiscere, quern evocatum forus
laceret." Pliny even goes on to aver "Item vomitionum
hominis imitari ad sollicitandos canes quos invadat."—Nat.
Hist. 1. 8, c. 30.