234 
NATURE NOTES. 
naturalist will place the number of attractive introductions to science which 
are offered on every side to the younger generations of observers. The price of 
this volume, indeed, is somewhat beyond that furnished by juvenile purses, but 
it is to be hoped that many a youthful entomologist will have his Christmas made 
bright by the present of this beautiful book. Our only regret is that the vile 
practice of wire stitching should have been employed ; anyone who knows how 
this pernicious practice spoils and disfigures a book in the course of a few years 
will share our feelings on this matter. 
The closing sentence of The Second Jungle Book (Macmillan, 6s.) is the only one 
which will cause dissatisfaction: “This is the last of the Mowgli stories,” yet 
we do not blame Mr. Rudyard Kipling for thus ending this delightful series ; 
continuations are wont to be somewhat unsuccessful, and when prolonged are 
almost sure to be so. But this remark does not apply to this second batch of 
jungle stories — inferior to the preceding volume only in so far as they are less of a 
novelty than the first. In one of these new tales, “ The Miracle of Purun 
Bhagat,” we lose sight of Mowgli and his friends, and another takes us north 
among the Esquimaux, and can hardly be classed as a jungle story. But all are 
good, and very good, and Mr. Lockwood Kipling’s illustrations, or as he prefers 
to call them, “ decorations” (of which we are enabled to give an e.xample), are as 
good as the text. We see that the original Jungle Book is in its twenty-second 
thousand, and we imagine this second volume will not be long before it reaches a 
similar figure. 
When Mr. Somerset’s book. The Land of Ihe A/ttskeg {Heinemann, 14s. net), 
was announced, we wonder how many knew what a muskeg was. The Editor 
of Nature Notes confesses that he did not, and in case any of his readers 
should be equally ignorant, he extracts the following description : “ A muskeg 
is a particularly abominable kind of swamp which at first sight seems no very 
terrible affair. Green spongy moss covers the ground, while here and there lie 
small pools of clear water. One realizes that the moss is soft and wet, and that 
the travelling may be heavy, but nothing more. But no sooner have you set foot 
upon its treacherous surface than the thing becomes more serious. The beautiful 
green moss seems to catch your foot in a vice, and to rise swiftly towards you. 
When a man faints he sometimes imagines that the ground has risen up and struck 
him [we have read of this apparent phenomenon occurring under other conditions, 
but no matter] ; this is exactly the sensation of him who walks in a muskeg. You 
feel that you must quickly take another step before it is too late, and so you plod 
on, and soon you tire. In point of fact there is little danger of being sucked down, 
but the place has a most melancholy look. Nothing else on earth can be so 
vividly green and yet so utterly desolate.” 
The route followed by Mr. Somerset and his companion, Mr. A. H. Pollen, 
lies through Athabasca and British Columbia, in the land of the Hudson’s Bay 
Company. They arrived at Edmonton, in the North of Athabasca, on June 7, 
1S93, and in the course of their travels made the acquaintance of various tribes 
of Indians, Cree, Carrier, Beaver, Chinook, and others. The travellers speak in 
the warmest terms of the French missionary priests, from whom they received 
