to pass near these formidable banditti, or to
interrupt their orgies, they will gnash their
teeth at you fiercely, like so many wolves.
So far are they from running off in affright
to their burrows, that they will turn round,
set up an ominous cry, and will then make a
rush at your legs in a way to make your hair
stand on end. Between them and the
venturesome stranger, many a hazardous affray
occurs; and though sometimes he may fight
his way home victoriously by the aid of a
stout stick, on other occasions he will be
forced to fly down some narrow cross lane,
leaving the rats undisputed masters of the
field. Compared with Monte Video, certain
parts of Scotland must be a paradise to reside
in, if it be true (as I find in print, though I
never heard a word of it on the spot), that
in Sutherland no rats will live, though they
swarm in Caithness, the next shire; and that
in the Isle of Burray (this statement is made
on the responsibility of the inhabitants) not
only are mice unable to exist, but that
wheresoever Burray earth is brought, they
will forsake the place as if the cat were after
them. It is a wonder that Burray earth is
not advertised, and sold in sealed packets,
from three and sixpence upwards to five
guineas each, as mice-bane.

Before a certain ship (and it is only one of
a thousand in similar plight) could set sail
from London, rats had got into the hold of
the vessel ; and during the passage, they
gave increasing indications of their prolific
powers ; and, as their numbers augmented,
they grew bolder and bolder. At last the
passengers were obliged, during the night, to
sleep with cudgels by the side of their
berths, to dispute by force of arms the
possession of their mattrasses with the
shameless invaders. One dark night, at twelve
o'clock, when the ship was running up the
river Plata, a couple of the passengers, turned
in, each with his respective stick, to wage the
accustomed war with the enemy; who now
sturdily, and by half-dozens at a time,
asserted their right to share the beds. About
two o'clock in the morning, Smith was
exerting in the dark all his well-tried skill to
maintain his little fortress against a vigorous
assault of besieging rats, when "Rut! rut!
rut!" went the keel of the ship, scraping
against some other substance; then bump it
went upon a ledge of rocks, and there stuck
hard and fast. The very rats were frightened,
and scampered away; while phlegmatic
Brown, sitting up in his berth, deliberately,
but with great emphasis, exclaimed, "Thank
heaven! the rats are sure to be drowned,
whether we are drowned or no." All hands,
passengers included, were called to the
pumps. The first effect of which, with
the thermometer at eighty, was to create
intense and general thirst. They had just
two butts of water left. One was tapped;
and—faugh!—it filled the air with a
pestilential smell. The other—more horrible
than the first! It could not have been worse,
if fresh-drawn from the Thames. The bungs
had been left out; the rats had got in;
several of their bodies lay at the bottom;
their hairs thickened the turbid water; and
the taste (the sickening taste!) was
indescribable. By working hard and incessantly
at the pumps, the passengers and part of the
cargo were saved; but the rats came to a
tragical and singular end. As the water
rapidly filled the hold and cabin of the ship,
the affrighted vermin were chased from their
various holes and hiding-places, till, at last,
with a simultaneous rush from below, they
swarmed upon deck, and then precipitated
themselves, on all sides, into the river. They
swam about and around by hundreds, as long
as their strength permitted them. Gradually,
however, they disappeared; and, finally, one
and all sunk into that watery grave to which
Brown had prophetically consigned them.

Monsieur Tastet relates that he personally
ascertained the fact (which has been related
by numerous travellers) that the west coast
of Africa exhales a strong smell of musk.
All the animals of Senegal are impregnated
with it. He attributes it to a rodent called
the musk-rat, which swarms in those regions,
and exhales so strong an odour of musk that
the places once visited by the little animal
retain the scent a long time afterwards.
These perfumed quadrupeds are described
by the elder voyagers as little reddish rats
which smell sweet like musk. Less agreeable
creatures would be the rats, found in
the same parts, as big as young pigs, and so
large that cats dare not attack them.

As a trifling compensation for the enormous
nuisances they occasion (including
even their smelling sweet), rats ought to be
utilised in some way; if not for profit, at least
for amusement. It is something to have made
best French kid-gloves out of the skins of
Parisian rats, and best French beaver-hats
from their fur. A man of genius—a Swede,
with an unpronounceable name—has done
more. Lamenting, probably, the dearth of
dramatic talent, he conceived the idea of
raising rats to the dignity of tragic and
comic stars. His training succeeded
admirably. Hamlet, followed by a popular farce,
acted by rats in a portable theatre, which the
manager could carry on his shoulders from
place to place, obtained a colossal success in
Sweden and Germany. But the best way of
turning rats to account is by making use of
their flesh as a dainty viand, in which the
rats themselves set us the example. Rats
are eminently ratophagous, which is lucky
for us ; for, without ratophagy, rats would
have devoured all the other living inhabitants
of the globe. Not only do nearly-related
species devour each other, but individuals of
the same race also practise cannibalism.
Fathers eat their babes in the nest, to spare
them from the pains of teething; children
eat their declining parents, to relieve them