Lang The Red Book Of Animal Stories

1. Auflage 2012
ISBN: 978-3-8496-0990-0
Verlag: Jazzybee Verlag
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, 277 Seiten

'The Red Book of Animal Storms,' selected and edited by Mr. Andrew Lang will be much appreciated by the young folk. The stones are more interesting than voracious, and, indeed, Mr. Lang is careful to notify all and sundry that the book is not altogether scientific. Ww have yet to learn, however, that this is a valid objection to children's stories. The writers have laid all beasts of all times under contribution, from the prehistoric pterodactyl down to the kangaroo of the present day and the bunyip and the sea serpent of tomorrow. This book is fully illustrated and annotated with a rare extensive biographical sketch of the author, Andrew Lang, written by Sir Edmund Gosse, CB, a contemporary poet and writer.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Lang, Andrew

Weitere Mitwirkende

Ford, Henry Justice

Leseproben

PUMAS AND JAGUARS IN SOUTH AMERICA

No one can have read Captain Mayne Reid's stories about America without being struck by the part played in them by an animal called the ' painter,' which is of a tawny colour, with a black stripe down its back. Now the ' painter ' is really the panther, and the panther is the creature that we call the puma, which, next to the jaguar, is the biggest of all the American cats, and has a wider range than any other mammal. The puma is to be met with in British Columbia, or in the Adirondack mountains not far from New York State; it is to be seen in the hot unhealthy swamps that lie along the northern shores of the Gulf of Mexico; it lies in wait for its prey in the river forests of the Amazon and the Orinoco; it tracks the wild and cunning huanaco ten thousand feet high on the Andes, and it is the dreaded enemy of colts and sheep on the cattle runs of the Argentine Republic. With wonderful skill it makes the best of circumstances; if horses, its favourite food, are not to be had, it puts up with ostriches; if it happens to live in Mexico, or Arizona, it makes its dinner off wild turkeys; further north still, the puma will be content with porcupines or even snails, while if its chosen haunts along the river banks of the Amazon or the Orinoco are overwhelmed by a sudden inundation, it takes to the trees and feasts upon monkeys.

As sometimes occurs in families, the puma has a particular hatred for its cousin the jaguar, and seldom indeed does it fail to get the better in any fight. It also has a violent dislike to dogs, and in South America can never see one without flying out to attack it, while the grizzly bear is its deadly foe. But, on the other hand, in the great continent of South America it shows its best qualities. It loves man, and even when attacked by him will not defend itself, while in puma-haunted districts children may even sleep all night alone, without fear of harm. And not only children, for travelers tell us a puma has never been known to attack a sleeping man.

It is a great pity that pumas are so fond of killing tame and useful beasts, as they have many delightful qualities as pets. Pumas are very playful, and very affectionate and gentle to people and children; but they are rapidly being hunted down, as farmers find it quite impossible to keep any cattle in their neighbourhood. Between their courage and their wonderful powers of jumping, no animals are safe from them. Some witnesses have declared that pumas have been seen, when pursued by dogs, to spring a clear twenty feet into the air for shelter in a tree, while another leap of forty feet was measured on the ground. In Patagonia, a farmer who had suffered much from a puma's appetite shut all his sheep into a huge fold, surrounded by a wooden paling fifteen feet high. The only entrance was by a six-foot gate, and, to make all secure, men and dogs were told off to watch. But the puma was too clever for them all! He seized his chance when any clouds came up to make the darkness thicker, and every morning one sheep at least was found with a dislocated neck, and its breast eaten, for this is the way a puma always kills its prey, and, except when very hungry, it never eats the whole carcass. One night, the naturalist who tells the story was passing by the gate, when the robber sprang right over his head, but it was too dark to give chase, so the puma got away safely. Afterwards, it was found that it had been in the habit of hiding till dark in the pen with some calves, which it never tried to touch, as it knew it was sure of the sheep.

In many places in Patagonia, where horses are bred, farmers have been obliged to turn their attention to something else, as the colts invariably fall victims to the pumas. They will lie patiently in wait for them to pass, and, never caring for the man, or men, who may be bringing the drove back from pasture, will spring out from behind a bush right on the back of the colt, place one paw on its head, and the other on its bosom, and bring the head back with a jerk. Then, before the driver has had time to come up, the puma is deep in the bushes again.

There is nothing mean about a puma; it is all the same to this great big cat whether the beast it is hunting is large or small, fierce or tame. It will trot, or rather bound, after a peccary, a jaguar, or a grizzly bear, quite as cheerfully as if it w y ere stalking a colt or a sheep. Only one animal has been known to get the better of a puma, and that is the last you would ever expect a donkey. It is the fable of the hare and the tortoise over again. The puma may jump on his back as much as it likes, the donkey puts down his head, so that the puma cannot seize his neck, and kicks so hard that the puma is at last shaken off; or if that does not do, the donkey takes to bucking, and anybody who has ridden much knows very well what the end of bucking is likely to be.

But when pumas can be kept away from all other beasts, and be seen only with man, or with each other, what charming and graceful creatures they show themselves! Fancy watching pumas chasing butterflies for the pure fun of it; or playing with their babies as if they were so many kittens, rolling them over and stretching out their tails for the little ones to catch, or having a game of hide and seek behind the rocks and bushes. It seems almost absurd to think that a puma could ever want to hurt any living thing and if you had not seen a cat's eyes when it looks at a bird, you might say the same about him!

But many are the stories told in South America of the attachment of the puma to man, and the kindness it has shown him. One day, a band of men went out to hunt, and scattered in search of game all over the plains or pampas. In the evening, when they all assembled to ride home, one of the number was missing; but on reaching the farm, his horse was found quietly standing outside his stable. It was too late and dark to do anything that night, but at dawn next morning the rest set forth, and after some hours they found their missing comrade, lying on some ground, with his legs broken. The poor man had spent a terrible night, for the voices of jaguars were often heard in the distance, and most likely would have come a good deal closer, had it not been for a puma, who had never ceased walking about as if to guard him. When the jaguar's voice became louder than usual, the puma crawled silently and noiselessly away, and sounds of battle came through the darkness. No more was known of that jaguar.

There is an old legend which is to be found in every history of the Spanish settlers in South America, that seems almost like one of the stories of the early martyrs. In the year 1536, says Ruy Diaz de Guzman, the Spanish settlers in the town of Buenos Ayres were closely besieged by Indians, and, after suffering frightful hardships from hunger and thirst and sickness, eighteen hundred of the unfortunate people died, and were buried, by the six hundred that were left, just outside the wooden palisade that defended them from their enemies. The graves were dug hardly below the surface of the ground, for the diggers looked up with fear between the turning of every sod to see if the Indians were approaching, and the smell of the dead bodies soon attracted swarms of wild beasts from the country round, so that on every side the Spaniards were beset with dangers.

At last, most of the few who were left declared they could bear this state of things no longer. It was a choice of evils, and they made up their minds that they would prefer to fall into the power of beasts rather than of men. So, when the darkness had fallen, a little company crept out from the palisade, and stole away to the woods.

How they fared we are not told; but one girl, called Maldonada, after wandering about till dawn, fell in with some Indians, who carried her off to their village in the heart of the forest, and treated her with great kindness.

Some months later, Ruiz, the deputy-governor of Buenos Ayres, heard where she was, and being by this time free from his enemies sent to the friendly tribe to beg of them to give Maldonada up to him. When the poor girl was brought back to the city she found that it was only to be accused as a traitor to her own people, and to be condemned to be fastened to a tree in the forest, so that savage beasts might devour her.

So Maldonada, who had passed unhurt amidst the hungry animals, whose midnight wars she had heard when flying from the besieged city, was now to be delivered over to a fate from which no escape was possible. How a girl living quietly in an Indian village could have betrayed her people, Senor Ruiz did not say, and it is not clear why he was so anxious for her destruction; but sentence was given, and the soldiers called in. They led Maldonada three miles into the heart of the forest, and there tying her tight to a tree, according to their orders, left her to her death.

For two nights and a day no one troubled their heads about her; either she had no friends, or they were poor people who were powerless against the governor; but on the third day, soldiers were again sent out, to collect her bones. To their immense surprise, they found Maldonada...