spot, selected for his quarters a dilapidated sheepfold, around which were spread evident traces of the lion's ferocity. The first night passed without any alarm, and in the morning he returned to the camp to seek a shelter from the intolerable heat and obtain some instants of repose.

The same ill success attended him on the two succeeding nights, but on the fourth evening a loud roar announced the approach of the lion. A whole legion of rats were running in every direction, and the air was peopled with birds disturbed from their repose by the terrible sounds. The particulars of the encounter need not be repeated. Another old lion fell beneath the unerring aim of Gerard. This new triumph left him no repose, for from every quarter of the Atlas came demands for assistance. The Arabs called him Cheriff, Sheick, Emir, and Sultan of the Lions; and every new success obtained for him an additional title. Fifteen lions successively bit the dust, amongst them that of Krunega, whose depredations had continued unmolested upwards of thirty years ; besides those of Malhouna, of Benisallah, and the lioness of Neraal, with her two cubs, whose obstinate defence caused the hunter unheard-of risks, not to mention a large number of panthers that fell also beneath his power.

In these expeditions Gerard was seldom accompanied ; once or twice a few of his comrades, and some of the inhabitants of the villages, prayed to be permitted to join him, but it was against his will. The audacity of some, the timidity of others, and any want of unity or discipline, would have greatly increased the perils of these undertakings. One of his companions, horribly mutilated by a lion, still expiates in the hospital of Guelma his temerity.

The extraordinary success of Jules Gerard may be easily explained. Strong in his experience, in the presence of a lion he awaits coolly the favourable moment ; for any precipitation would be attended by certain death. He adjusts his gun, all the time regarding the lion with an earnest glance. If the animal bends himself or changes his position, Gerard does the same, always keeping the gun pointed. At length the lion prepares for a spring, and receives the fatal discharge in his head at the same time.

It has frequently happened that a lion, on encountering the steady gaze of an intruder, has retired with marks of evident distrust and fear. Gerard mentioned to me that, one time in his walks, being unarmed, he stumbled by accident on the haunt of a lion and lioness with three cubs. They advanced upon him, lashing their tails furiously at being disturbed ; but the steady earnestness of his gaze discomposed them, and they retired growling sullenly, furtively turning the head at intervals to watch any change in the motionless figure before them. Any movement would have been instantly fatal. A Kabyle being in advance of some travelling companions was encountered by an enormous lion, whom he managed to keep at bay for some time by looking fixedly at him; but happening for a moment to turn his head to observe if his friends were near, the animal darted upon him, and he was immediately torn to pieces.

A few observations on the instincts and habits of the lion, gained by Gerard in his long and arduous experience, may not irrelevantly close this brief notice of the Lion-slayer's career, Gerard having returned to the scene of his exploits, no doubt to win fresh laurels. Buffon, Cuvier, Lacepede, Belon, and others, have altogether erred in their descriptions of the lion. To place him above the tiger, his rival, and to give force to his royal prerogative as King of Beasts, they have proclaimed him unequalled in strength and magnanimity ; and on this latter point have obtained for him a reputation altogether unmerited. “ Of all ferocious animals,” says Pliny, “the lion only pardons whoever supplicates him.” Gerard will tell what kind of grace his feline majesty accords. “The lion is not cruel,” says Buffon, “except from necessity : he destroys only for the food which his existence demands, and, once his hunger satisfied, he is no longer ferocious. ' He pursues only while his proy is in sight, and does not follow it for vengeance. When he sees men and animals together, he invariably attacks the latter only!" These observations, and others equally hazardous, prove that Buffon had not sufficiently studied the peculiarities of the lion. History and fables have added to these errors--at Rome the royal beast in the circus licking the slave's feet-in Florence the lion dropping his prey at the cries of a mother-and in modern times the taming feats of Van Amburgh and Carter. The lion has thus been enthroned in public opinion as generous and kingly in his nature, Nor is it astonishing that these errors have propagated, for the Arabs themselves are completely ignorant of the instincts and habits of this wondrous quadruped. Before Gerard's appearance they were accustomed to bait traps with animals, alive and dead, when experience ought to have proved to them that the lion turns with aversion from flesh in the least degree tainted. “ I like to take my part in a sermon," said Louis XIV., “ but I do not wish that it should be addressed to me.” Thus, a dead prey is not looked upon by a lion unless killed by him. Several times, in order to convince himself of a fact necessary to science, Gerard has left for several nights, sheep, wild boars, and dead horses on the track of a lion, and always found them untouched, although there were convincing marks of the animal's presence. Like primitive man, the lion has but two objects, his food and the propagation of his species---carnage and love. He attacks always when he is the strongest, or when fury and vengeance have obscured his reason. If he joined fleetness to strength, nothing could withstand his prodigious power ; but Providence has ordained that, notwithstanding his force, he is obliged to have recourse to the cunning of the weakest. He watches his prey like a cat, creeping on his belly, and suddenly bounding upon it. If he does not succeed, and especially should he have to do with an animal whose swiftness is familiar to him, after five or six surprising bounds he stops short, and relinquishes the pursuit. During the day he fears, if not man, at least the bustle of active life, and approaches any habitation with the greatest reserve. It is more often upon quadrupeds that he exercises his ferocity. Near a group of cattle he will endeavour to turn aside an ox or a cow, barring its passage, and driving it towards an isolated point where he may devour it with impunity. Lions have been seen accompanying carts, marching at some little distance from the horses, without attempting any aggression ; and such contrasts of real ferocity and apparent restraint have caused a belief in the magnanimity of these animals. This reserve, however, has only been caused by the fear of engaging in a quarrel under unfavourable circumstances. Ordinarily the lion commences his bloody saturnales at the fall of day. At night all his furious instincts are awakened--the habits of reflection which seem to guide him during the day are then overmastered, and nothing escapes his vengeance. The instinct of the lion is wonderful. Gerard has often remarked that the animal frequently avoided his encounters, more, as he supposes, from the lion judging intuitively that it was less a prey than an enemy which opposed him. And this reminds me of an anecdote which, although relating to the dog, seems to carry out this idea. This faithful creature naturally confounds in his affections the master and the servant who gives him his food and takes care of him. In the middle of the night an old domestic armed with a poignard, which sufficiently explains his intention, glided stealthily towards the bed of his employer. The dog, who slept in his master's chamber, and who under any other circumstances would not have barked, precipitated himself upon the man and threw him down, holding him there until assistance could be procured, when the fellow confessed that his intentions was to have murdered his master; and most probably he would have succeeded in his purpose but for the interposition of the dog.

HUNTING QUARTERS, &c.

BY RABY.

I am induced to offer a few remarks on hunting quarters in the Old Berkshire and Vale of White Horse hunts, which I hope may be of service to hunting men who, like Mr. Cramhard, in the August number of this periodical, may wish to see some sport in these countries, but who may not know where to take up their quarters so as to combine comfort with the pleasures of the chase. The great difficulty is to combine all things : some men wish to be near a railway-station; others do not care much about thie, so that they can easily reach hounds. To those, then, who wish to be close to the railroad I say, go to Cirencester : there very excellent accommodation can be had at Stevens's, the landlord of the Ram Hotel, who will attend to the comforts of man and horse. Also at the King's Head, Mr. Date can provide everything that a hunter, whether biped or quadruped, can require. The kennels of the Vale of White Horse hounds are within a mile of the town. These hounds hunt five days a week, and are turned out in first-rate style by Mr. Villebois. The Duke of Beaufort's bounds can be also reached at some of their fixtures with ease; and the Old Berkshire at Coleshill, Buscot, Becket House, Radcot Bridge, &c. But as a very central position for both hunts, I should recommend Highworth, where the landlord of the King and Queen can offer good accommodation both for man and horse. Highworth is only six miles from the Swindon Station, where every train on the Great Western line stops. Here a hunting man can reach the Vale Hounds twice or three times a week with ease, and also meet the Berkshire in their best country. He must take care to provide himself with some good useful hunters, for he will find plenty of work cut out both for himself and horses in a run with these hounds over the fine vale of Berks. Added to this, there are a good set of men to be met with in the field ; a liberal and good sportsman in Mr. Morrell, as the master of the pack; and a quick and keen huntsman in Jones, who does his utmost to show sport. Then, again, if some hunting men

cannot afford time to reside regularly in either of the places I have named, or who wish to reach these hounds from town, there are some stables lately built at Goosey, near Farringdon Road Station, by Thompson (formerly stud-groom to Lord Ducie, when he kept the Vale of White Horse hounds), who would undertake the care and management of hunters left in his charge, and see that they were sent to particular fixtures, as required by the owners, who can reach Farringdon Road by the down train at a quarter to ten. Thus, then, to men like Cramhard, who wish to hunt with the Vale, “ and also have a gallop with Jones,” I have pointed out places where they will experience every necessary comfort, and at the same time reach hounds at easy distances, taking the week through, and it is to be hoped spend a pleasant three or four months in a good hunting country. To those who wish to have a few days' hunting in the West with the Devon and Somerset staghounds, preparatory to foshunting, I recommend the little town of Dulverton, just twelve miles from Tiverton. In this part of England staghunting is carried on in a very different manner to what it is elsewhere. The stag is found in his native woods, and is hunted over a fine wild country, often affording a capital run of twelve or fourteen miles, or more. I saw a pretty run with these hounds at the beginning of this month: they met at Dulverton, and proceeded to Haddon, an immense woodland. The hounds being shut up in a stable, two couple of "tufters" (hounds to rouse and find a “warrantable” deer, i.e., one of sufficient age to be hunted), with the huntsman, Beale, entered Haddon Wood. Presently a fine hind was roused; then a young male deer; after this a four-year-old stag; when orders were given by the master, Mr. Carew, to lay on the pack, which was done near the Watchet Road. The stag kept on to Skilgate, to Gamtling Cross, and on to Shillingford, where a check occurred. He was fresh found, and then turned back to Beech Wood and Skilgate, to Haddon, then turned down the water towards Bury Village, near which place he was killed. An arrangement has lately been made with Mr. Carew, the master of the Tiverton foxhounds, to hunt the red-deer. He has now a strong pack of dog-hounds that he has selected for the purpose, and which I think will give much more satisfaction to the country at large than being dependent on a pack of staghounds which usually come by invitation to hunt the deer, as the hounds are now regarded by all classes as a county or local establishment, and all parties—high and low-feel an interest in them. The greater part of that old established and excellent pack of hounds, the North Devon, have lately been purchased by Mr. Lowe, who is about to hunt the Hursley country. He may consider himself fortunate in securing so good a lot of hounds; and if they show as much sport in their new country as they did in North Devon, the Hursley men may consider themselves highly-favoured indeed. Their late master has bought some of Lord Mostyn's hounds, to supply the places of his favourites; but how they will surmount the difficulties of some parts of the North Devon country remains to be proved : one thing is in their favour, and that is, their master is one of the best sportsmen in England; and as a huntsman, no one knows more than he does. That his and all other packs may enjoy a fine season's sport, is the sincere wish of

RABY.

THE MIST AND THE MOOR..

BY HORNYWINK.

CHAP. III. Notwithstanding the horrible tragedy narrated in the preceding chapters, and the loss of the first day's sport indirectly occasioned thereby, the whole party at length met together at nightfall under cover of the wide-spreading canvass already referred to; and Esterling, anxious to banish the recollections of the past night, and observing an unaccountable coolness in his uncle's deportment towards Edmund, displayed an exuberance of spirits which he amiably hoped would serve to dispel the unpleasant gloom that appeared to be gathering around them. How it had arisen, however, was a matter that perplexed him seriously, as he was totally unconscious of his uncle's dark suspicion respecting Edmund's motives in deserting him on the moor. The following random question, therefore, was ill-calculated to produce the desired effect, for instead of adding gaiety to the party, an increase of embarrassment was the only apparent result :

“By the bye, Edmund, how was it that you never followed me into the bogs last night ?”

“Because I thought, as I told you, that you were only bitternhunting, and I had no mind for such unprofitable sport."

“Did you not hear me call, then ?"

“No, you were down wind of me; and as I waited until it was dark, I concluded you had left me to my own devices, and followed yours by going a shorter way homewards.”

“Well, Edward, I must say you displayed an indifference which is very unlike your hot and impetuous disposition. Had you been in my dangerous situation, I do not think I could have ridden off so unconcernedly.”

"Pooh !” said, Edmund impatiently, “ you always manage to get up a scene : I have told you over and over again, on this occasion and a hundred others, that I won't stick to your heels at the risk of my own neck, in every hare-brain escapade in which you are pleased to involve yourself.”

“What I not when a man's life is in danger ?”

“Oh, of course, that is different ; and I should have gone to the l'escue had I been sure that there was a man in distress.”

“ Indeed !” said Sir Nicholas, coolly ; " then we are to understand that probable distress is not sufficient to arouse your sympathy or compassion. You must be certain that a poor fellow is smothering or drowning, or bleeding to death, before you trouble yourself to succour him. However,” he added, relentingly, seeing that his nephew was distressed in spite of his bravado, “I have known great apathy to exist where there was no lack of nobler qualities. It is a constitutional evil, I have heard—though, thank Heaven! it never crept into my blood,

BB