144 
THE CABINET OF NATURAL HISTORY 
farther to illustrate this curious subject. It was recorded in 
my diary some years ago. 
At my boarding house in Albany, there is an old family 
dog, called Cesar. This animal seems to have a special and 
violent antipathy to all swine: the moment a hog makes 
his appearance in the street, or in the extensive yard attach- 
ed to the house, Cesar will dash upon it, and worry it in 
the most violent manner. Among the servants in our esta- 
blishment, we have a little French barber named Ferdinand: 
now Ferdinand and Cesar are almost inseparable friends; 
Cesar espouses the cause ojf his master, right or wrong, on 
all occasions; and Ferdinand protects his canine friend, with 
the enthusiasm of his countrymen, from all the assaults of 
cook, scullion, or lackey. In process of time, Ferdinand, 
by the consent of our host, established a piggery in the 
yard, and who, but Cesar, has undertaken to watch over 
his little herd, which are permitted occasionally to roam 
about in the streets of the city. Ferdinand’s hogs are all 
entirely white, and often after their excursions abroad, they 
are accompanied home by a host of acquaintances of the like 
colour; but Cesar never suffered one of the strangers to re- 
main on our premises. He knows his master’s property 
much better than he does himself; and should he not be 
present when they are fed, he is always called to ascertain 
if any strangers are present, and it is surprising with what 
quickness and certainty he discovers, and unceremoniously 
ejects them. 
It is well known that our Indians keep their various 
troops of horses, which are pastured in the wilds of Florida, 
separate from each other, by means of dogs trained up for 
the purpose. These dogs differ, however, from Cesar, in- 
asmuch as he is self taught, and this when eight or nine 
years of age. Bartram in his Travels relates the story of 
an Indian dog who kept his master’s horses together on a 
wide plain, about ten miles distant from his wigwam. The 
dog when hungry came home for his food, but never re- 
mained there during the night. — See Bartram' s Travels , 
pp. 222-3. 
While noticing the sagacity of the dog, I will state two 
other facts, which, though they have been frequently wit- 
nessed by sportsmen, are perhaps worth recording. 
On a shooting party the other day in company with some 
friends, we killed a rabbit, and our pointer slut, Venus, 
while fetching the rabbit in her mouth, came to a dead 
point at a pheasant about twenty yards distant. 
My friend, J. B., informs me, that when hunting with 
three dogs, it frequently happened, that when one of his 
dogs pointed a bird, the second dog would point the 
first, though out of scent of the bird, and the third dog, per- 
haps not seeing the first, would set at the second; thus 
forming a kind of telegraph of two or three hundred 
yards, to the sportsman. J. G. 
INSTINCT OF THE SPIDER. 
The wonderful ingenuity frequently exercised by most 
animals, in securing the means of sustenance, must be fa- 
miliar to every observer of nature. In no class of animals 
are the instincts resorted to for the purpose of obtaining 
food, more surprising than in that which is considered the 
lowest in the scale of animal life. For this end we often 
find many insects endowed with a kind of foresight, and 
apparently exercising a degree of philosophic induction, 
and a knowledge of the laws of mechanics, which are not 
surpassed by all the boasted powers of man. The little pit 
falls constructed by the Lion-ant, and the ingenious means 
used by many of our common insects to entrap their prey, 
must be familiar to most of your readers. The following 
instance of ingenuity and mechanical skill used by a small 
House-spider in lifting the carcase of a large fly a foot or two 
from the floor, may be depended upon. 
Some days since a little Spider was observed under an 
arm chair, running to and fro, and exhibiting marks of 
great bustle and anxiety. Upon watching its proceedings 
its nest was soon found under the bottom of the chair, and 
the dead body of a fly, much larger and heavier than itself, 
was seen lying on the carpet below. It was evidently the 
intention of the Spider to raise up this heavy load and to 
deposit it safely in its storehouse for future use; but how, 
with its strength, could this be effected ? He commenced 
his tedious and singularly scientific operation by attaching 
a line, or strong fibre of his web, to one of the legs of the 
chair about four inches from the floor, and then fastening 
the fibres to the body of the fly, he extended the line to the 
same height from the floor as in the first instance. As 
the fly lying on the carpet was much nearer the one of the 
legs of the chair than the other, the two lines which formed 
an angle with the body, were of different lengths. As the 
Spider now slowly moved along the longest end of the line, 
the weight of the fly was thus overcome by a mechanical 
advantage, and raised a little distance from the floor. 
Every one knows that the lever is the most simple of all 
the mechanical powers, and one to which all the others may 
be referred. In the contrivance of the Spider it will be 
noticed that that form of the lever which is used where the 
fulcrum is at one end, the power at the other, and the weight 
between them, the Spider, having ascertained that portion 
of his lever which, when depressed, would lift his prey 
to the greatest altitude, fastened it in that position, by a clue, 
which reached from that part to the floor. By repeating 
this same operation several times, the fly was at last safely 
deposited in his nest above. I must not forget, however, to 
mention that when each new lever was constructed, the 
weight was carefully detached from all the fastenings below. 
J. G. 
