212 
NATURE NOTES. 
search of him he would be found snugly ensconced in the piano 
or under a cushion. He had also chases on his own account 
after rats, and it was curious to see them scuttling along and 
Tiny simply flying, with his tail erect, in hot pursuit. The rat 
had no chance. Tiny quickly pounced upon him, and with one 
grip pinned him as he had the snakes, and the rat had to yield 
to his swifter little enemy. At other times the unlucky fowls 
would be the victims. We used to hear a general commotion 
amongst the servants and much shouting, and see disordered 
turbans and flowing garments vainly in pursuit of the little 
wretch, who was equally diligent in hunting the fowls. My 
little daughter had to be appealed to for help, and many a 
whistle sent forth before he would give up the chase. Some- 
times a saucer of milk coaxed him back, and then he was taken 
by the tail, but he was very sharp and eluded every effort of the 
native servants to catch him. But he greatly attached himself 
to us, and the law of kindness was the only one to which he was 
amenable. 
• Guildford. C. M. H. 
II. 
Towards the end of last summer I was informed that my 
garden was haunted by a strange animal who could be heard 
any evening among the shrubs, but hardly ever seen, though a 
chance glimpse had revealed something like a large rat. One 
day, however, the mysterious visitor ventured into the open, and 
having with some difficulty been made a prisoner, proved to be 
a fine specimen of the Indian Mongoose (Hevpcstes griseus). At 
first he was kept in rigorous confinement, but after a few days 
established such friendly relations with his captors that he was 
left to ramble about as he pleased, and before long “ Billy ” was 
the pet of every one who had to do with him. His favourite 
nestling place was among the hot water pipes of the greenhouse 
and vinery, but on fine sunny days he would run over the garden 
beds, and a favourite amusement was to get into a round 
garden basket and trundle it along by working it as a squirrel 
does his cage. His food was principally meat, with an occa- 
sional mouse or sparrow supplied him by the gardener. A 
common snake had made the garden his winter quarters, and 
one day, Billy, who had managed to get into the neighbourhood 
of the snake’s hole behind the pipes, was heard “swearing” a 
good deal, and shortly afterwards emerged looking plump and 
self-conscious, like the dog in the nursery rhymes. The snake 
has never been seen since. 
Billy’s especial friend was the gardener’s young son — but he 
was on the most amicable terms with all the men, and if he 
wanted more attention than he was receiving at the moment, 
would come and nibble at their boots till they spoke to him. 
With myself he was more shy, but I have no doubt he asso- 
ciated me with my large St. Bernard dog, who one day nearly 
