A Rocky Ramble. 165 



It was here that I saw my first centipede, a shiny, 

 brown creature, that rested in a crevice of the 

 rock. It did not suggest " melancholy ferocity," 

 — I quote the " Encyclopaedia Britannica," — and 

 if possessed of such poisonous fangs, why should 

 it be so cowardly? A slight movement on my 

 part, afber I had discovered it, caused it to disap- 

 pear instantly. No animal, I take it, ever moved 

 more rapidly, not even a humming-bird. Here is 

 the puzzling feature of this uncanny beast. For 

 long it had been resting in this sunny crevice, and 

 had, of course, seen us, and — may I add ? — saw that 

 we did not see it. If this startling suggestion is 

 true, it ascribes a deal of wit to a centipede ; and 

 the longer I take note of the creatures about me, 

 the more I am inclined to exalt their mental 

 status. We often see such actions on the part of 

 birds and mammals, and, too, of snakes. They 

 are swayed by conflicting emotions, — curiosity and 

 fear, — and while the latter usually gets the upper 

 hand in time, it is not always so. Why a centi- 

 pede, several inches long, feared by all creatures, 

 even by man, should be so extremely shy, is a 

 difficult problem to solve. If they have wit 



