48 THE CABINET OF NATURAL HISTORY, 
turn, but laid itself down in a mournful posture, and 
howled over the grave of the departed. In vain was per- 
suasion used to get it away. At night the watchman at- 
tempted to dislodge it by force: it resisted, ran away from 
the man, and again returned to keep watch over him who 
had fed and sheltered it during his life. On the following 
morning the sexton used his endeavours to take away the 
Dog; but in vain. He returned with food, thinking that the 
poor brute would follow him from hunger: this failed, and 
it refused sustenance. On the second day, a number of per- 
sons went to the grave with meat and drink to the trusty 
mourner: these it accepted, seemed grateful, but took up its 
first post, and stretched itself over the cold bed of its de- 
parted master. Day followed day, and the neighbours re- 
paired from curiosity to the spot, and from humanity fed 
the Dog. I was told of this circumstance, and went to see 
this practical lesson of attachment and gratitude given by an 
irrational being to us intellectual lords of the creation. It 
was the eighth day when I saw the fact. On the next day, 
the animal was forcibly taken from the grave, and brought 
home by a kind neighbour, who treated it with all possible 
humanity. Nevertheless, the inflexible Dog ran away, and 
returned to its first position. It was then taken some miles 
from town, and closely confined for a few days, when it 
died of grief, probably broken-hearted—for such things 
are. What an example to cold, fickle, and ungrateful man! 
The survivors of the nearest relations and best of friends, 
wipe off hastily and soon after their death 
** The tear forgot as soon as shed:” 
they reject not food, nor refuse comfort—they keep not 
their vigil near the narrow bed of those who have nursed 
and served them: such privations are reserved for the ani- 
mal which boasts not the light of reason. 
SPORTING IN INDIA. 
In youth the pleasures of hope form our greatest enjoy- 
ments; but, in the autumn and wintry season of our life, 
we must draw upon the pleasures of memory for our chief 
resource. Such is my case: and I derive much amusement 
from looking over my old portfolio, ransacking my writ- 
ing desk, and from turning over the annals of other days, 
which my paper-drawer and library contain, and it would 
be my proudest endeavour thereby to convey entertainment 
to my readers. In this feeling, and with this view, I have 
drawn from a blotting-book a parcel of letters from a very 
good fellow, a Scotchman, written to me some years back 
from India, on the subject of Sporting there, and I shall 
make an extract from one of them, which I trust will not | 
be wholly devoid of interest: — 
‘¢ Shortly after my arrival at Calcutta, I was invited 
to a day’s sporting by Major , which I accepted 
gladly, having great curiosity to witness Oriental hunting, 
which, I was led to think, must be, like other pastimes 
there, in Eastern splendour. Nor was I disappointed— 
the scene and our success surpassed my most sanguinary 
expectations. We started before day-break, in a style 
more resembling the march of a corps d’armeée, or a tri- 
umphal procession in honour of the Goddess of the Chase, 
than the preparation for a day’s hunting. No Scotch 
Laird, Yorkshire Squire, nor Melton Mowbray Sportsman, 
can conceive any thing equal to it: our strength and num- 
bers, our arms and appointments, our slaves and attendants, 
were astounding to behold. A Tiger-hunt was the object 
in view, and a grand and memorable day we had. The 
Major, a fine portly man, was mounted on an elephant, 
from the elevation of which, placed in a castle, he scoured 
the circumjacent country with eagle eye, preceded by 
sharp-shooters, 7¢razlleurs, scouts, spies, and savages, fol- 
lowed and surrounded by divers brother sportsmen, com- 
rades, and domestics. 
“¢ We were not long before we found a Tiger, which 
afforded considerable sport, and was killed by a brother 
officer’s rifle. From the dingle in which we found the 
last ferocious animal, we proceeded on with nobler game 
in view—the monarch of all beasts of prey; and, after some 
excursive riding, a magnificent Lion made its appearance. 
The sight was most grand! but I confess that at this mo- 
ment, no small degree of fear mingled with my ambition 
to have to record a Lion-hunt amongst the adventures of 
my life. The attack seemed really more like actual war 
than any thing else, so great and grand was the enemy to 
which we were opposed. The bold Major and a dashing 
young Cavalry Subaltern, discharged their rifles simultane- 
ously at the Lion, and each of them wounded him: infuriated 
with pain, the fierce animal attacked the elephant, whilst 
the Major seized another rifle and took deliberate aim at 
him; but being anxious that this shot might tell, he leaned 
so far forward, that he overbalanced himself, and fell from 
his castle into the Lion’s arms, (or rather paws.) Here 
was an awful moment! but wonderful to tell, the Major 
got off with a broken arm only, a rush having been made 
towards the Lion, whereby he was despatched, covered 
with wounds, and torrents of blood streaming around. 
Nothing could be so brave, so desperate, nor so marvel- 
lous!’’— bid. 
