152 
THE CABINET OF NATURAL HISTORY, 
abysses which they may cover; he plunges into the most 
dangerous passes ofthe mountains; he climbs up, he leaps from 
rock to rock, without considering how he can return. The 
night often finds him in the heat of the pursuit; but he does 
not give it up for this obstacle. He considers that the 
Chamois will stop during the darkness, as well as himself, 
and that on the morrow he may again reach them. He 
passes then the night — not at the foot of a tree, nor in a 
cave covered with verdure, as does the hunter of the plain — 
but upon a naked rock, or upon a heap of rough stones, 
without any sort of shelter. He is alone, without fire, 
without light; but he takes from his bag a bit of cheese 
and some of the barley bread, which is his ordinary food — 
brfead so hard that he is obliged to break it between two 
stones, or to cleave it with the axe which he always car- 
ries with him to cut steps which shall serve for his ladder 
up the rocks of ice. His frugal meal being soon ended, 
he puts a stone under his head, and is presently asleep, 
dreaming of the way the Chamois has taken. He is 
awakened by the freshness of the morning air; he rises, 
pierced through with cold; he measures with his eye the 
precipices he must yet climb to reach the Chamois; he 
drinks a little brandy (of which he always carries a small 
provision,) throws his bag across his shoulder, and again 
rushes forward to encounter new dangers. These daring 
and persevering hunters often remain whole days in the 
dreariest solitudes of the glaciers of Ghamouni; and, during 
this time, their families, and, above all, their unhappy 
wives, feel the keenest alarm for their safety. 
“ The very few individuals of those who grow old in 
this trade bear on their countenances the traces of the 
life which they have led. They have a wild, and some- 
what haggard and desperate air, by which they may be re- 
cognized in the midst of a crowd. Many of the super- 
stitious peasants believe that they are sorcerers; that they 
have commerce with the evil spirit; and that it is he that 
throws them over the precipices.” — Buff on’s Nat. Hist. 
THE GREYHOUND. 
If we are to regard external appearances only, the 
Greyhound may be placed at the head of the dog tribe, as 
there is an elegance in his form which will be vainly sought 
in any other variety of the canine race. At what pre- 
cise period the Greyhound first made his appearance in 
Great Britain is not known; but it must have been many 
centuries ago — all trace, in fact, of the origin of this ani- 
mal is completely buried in the oblivion of antiquity. 
In ancient times, the Greyhound was considered as a 
valuable present, especially by the ladies, with whom it 
appears to have been a particular favourite; as, for in- 
stance, the wife of Robert Bruce, when a prisoner to 
Edward I. in the year 1304 , had three men and three 
women servants, three Greyhounds , plenty of game and 
fish, and the fairest house in the manor. 
In a manuscript of Froissart, quoted by Montfaucon, 
there is an illuminated view of Isabella’s splendid en- 
trance into Paris in 1324 ; a Greyhound attends her, with 
a flag powdered with Fleur de lys about his neck. 
In the 10th and 11th centuries, the price of a Grey- 
hound and also of a hawk appears to have been the same 
as that of a man. During the reign of King John, Grey- 
hounds were frequently received by him as payment in 
lieu of money, for the renewal of grants, fines, and for- 
feitures belonging to the crown. The following extracts 
show this monarch’s attachment to Greyhounds. A fine 
paid in the year 1203 mentions five hundred marks, ten 
horses, and ten leashes of Grey hounds; another in 1210, 
enumerates, one swift running horse, and six Greyhounds. 
We make the following interesting extract from Carr’s 
“ Stranger in Ireland:” — “In the morning (says the 
author, who was then on his journey to Ireland,) I wan- 
dered to a little church, which owed its elevation to this 
interesting circumstance: Lewelyn the Great, who re- 
sided near the base of Snowden, had a beautiful Grey- 
hound, named Gelert, which had been presented to him 
by King John. One day, in consequence of the faithful 
animal, who at night always sentinelled his master’s bed, 
not making his appearance in the chase, Lewelyn return- 
ed home very angry, and met the dog, covered with blood, 
at the door of the chamber of his child: upon entering it, 
he found the bed overturned, and the coverlit stained with 
gore: he called to his boy, but receiving no answer, he 
too rashly concluded that he had been killed by Gelert, 
and in his anguish, instantly thrust his sword through the 
poor animal’s body. The honourable Mr. Spencer has 
beautifully commemorated the above event: — • 
His suppliant looks, as prone he fell, 
No pity could impart; 
But still his Gelert’s dying yell 
Hung heavy at his heart. 
Aroused by Gelert’s dying yell, 
Some slumberer waked nigh : 
What words the parent’s joy could tell, 
To hear his infant cry. 
Nor scathe had he, nor harm, nor dread ; 
But the same couch beneath, 
Lay a gaunt wolf, all torn and dead, 
Tremendous still in death. 
