corresponding to that of the cavity in which it had been confined. It continued to increase in size and weight, though in capable of taking food, and was able to breathe only through the thin skin covering its under jaw. Narratives of this kind, though given upon what is apparently good authority, should be received with much caution. Although they may be given in good faith, there is no absolute assurance of the competency of the observers, or of their having taken into consideration all the circumstances necessary to establish facts intrinsically so improbable.

The same remark is applicable to the following narrative of the alleged torpidity of one of the human species. It is taken from an account given by Sir Claude Wade, a British political resident at the court of Runjeet Singh, in Lahore, in 1837. Sir Claude was an eye-witness of the disinterment of the individual concerned, and his character renders the idea of the invention of the story by him very improbable. The case was that of a fakir who was buried for the space of forty days, and lay during that period as insensible as if dead. Sir Claude did not witness the interment of the body, having arrived a few hours after it took place; but he had the testimony of Runjeet Singh himself and the most credible witnesses of the court to the fact; and the disinterment took place under circumstances which, in his opinion, rendered any deception impossible. The body had been deposited in a square building, consisting of a closed room in the middle, with a verandah all around. There had been an open door on each side; three of these had been closed up with brick and mortar, the fourth with mud up to the padlock, and this was sealed with the private seal of the prince. There was no aperture by which air or food could have been admitted. The place had been constantly guarded by four sentries, and been regularly visited by order of Runjeet Singh, who was himself skeptical as to the reality of the phenomenon. The body, tied up in a linen bag, which had become mildewed, was found in a cell three feet below the level of the floor, in a wooden box, upon which was also a padlock sealed like the other. There was no sign of life except some heat about the head. The body was bathed in warm water, plugs of cotton and wax, with which the nostrils and ears had been filled, were taken out; and after a variety of

other appliances the fakir began to revive, and in the course of an hour was able to talk with those about him freely, though feebly. It would require additional observation to produce perfect conviction of the reality of this long suspension of animation; yet the evidence is such as would be satisfactory in any case where the facts were of a less extraordinary character.

The attention of observers has been chiefly directed to the means provided for the protection of animals against cold. For the most part, there is in no portion of the earth such continued heat as requires any other provision for protection against it, than that power of regulating their own temperature which is possessed by all animals. But to this there are exceptions. In some tropical regions, during certain seasons of continued heat and dryness, many animals pass into a condition analogous to hybernation, called æstivation. Of this, the most trustworthy account has been given by Tennent, in his account of the island of Ceylon. As the alligator becomes torpid from cold, the crocodile does so from heat and dryness, and is found deeply embedded in the mud and clay at the bottom of tanks from which all the water has been drawn by evaporation. During the dry season several kinds of Fishes pass into the same condition, and are found under the same circumstances. They are dug up from beneath the clay of dried rivers, and this at considerable depths. In Abyssinia they have been found at a depth of six feet. Even some of the Mammalia pass into the same condition, when heat and dryness cut off their supply of food; thus the tenrec æstivates in Madagascar, as its allied species, the hedgehog, hybernates in Europe. Probably it is less the heat to which this result is to be attributed, than the dryness that results from it and the consequent lack of food. Fishes, as we are informed by Dr. Richardson, remain frozen for a long time in the shallow waters of the polar regions, and revive when thawed, — surviving thus a long suspension of circulation and respiration. A similar suspension must take place when they are buried in heated clay; and the preservation of life is in this case a more remarkable phenomenon, since, in addition to the suspension of these functions, there is an exposure to influences whose tendency is to produce decomposition.

CHAPTER XI. (S.)

OF THE HABITATIONS OF ANIMALS.

Or the quadrupeds that make or choose habitations for themselves, some dig holes in the earth, some take refuge in the cavities of decayed trees, and in the clefts of rocks, and some actually construct cabins or houses. But the artifices they employ, the materials they use, and the situations they select, are so various and so numerous, that our plan necessarily limits us to a few of the more curious examples.

The Alpine Marmot is a quadruped about sixteen inches in length, and has a short tail. In figure, the marmots have some resemblance both to the rat and to the bear. They delight in the regions of frost and of snow, and are only to be found on the tops of high mountains. Their retreats are formed with much art and precaution. With their feet and claws, which are admirably adapted to the purpose, they dig the earth with amazing quickness, and throw it behind them. They do not make a simple hole, or a straight or winding tube, but a kind of gallery somewhat in the form of a Y, placed thus, each branch of which has an aperture, and both terminate in a capacious apartment. This innermost apartment alone is horizontal. Both branches of the Y are inclined. One of them leads downward from the apartment, and follows the declivity of the mountain. This branch is a kind of aqueduct, and receives and carries off the filth of their habitations; the other, which rises above the principal apartment, is used for coming in and going out. The place of their abode is well lined with moss and hay, of which they lay up great store during the summer. They are social animals. Several of them live together, and work in common when forming their habitations. Thither they retire during rain, or upon the approach of danger. One of them stands sentinel upon a rock, while the others gambol upon the grass, or are employed in cutting it, in order to make hay. If the sentinel perceives a man, an eagle, a dog, or other dangerous animal, he

alarms his companions by a loud whistle, and is himself the last that enters the hole.

In places much frequented by man, the Beavers neither associate nor build habitations. But in the northern regions of both continents, they assemble in the month of June or July, for the purpose of uniting into a society, and of building a city. From all quarters they arrive in numbers, and soon form a troop of two or three hundred. The place of rendezvous is generally the situation fixed upon for their establishment, and it is always on the banks of waters. If the waters be flat, and seldom rise above their ordinary level, as in lakes, the beavers make no bank or dam. But in rivers or brooks, where the water is subject to risings and fallings, they build a bank, which traverses the river from one side to the other, and is often from eighty to a hundred feet long, by ten to twelve broad at the base. The part of the river where they erect this bank is generally shallow. If they find on the margin a large tree which can be made to fall into the river, they begin, by cutting it down, to form the principal basis of their work. This tree is often thicker than a man's body. By gnawing it at the bottom with their four cutting teeth, they in a short time accomplish their purpose, and always make the tree fall across the river. They next cut the branches from the trunk to make it lie level. These operations are performed by the joint industry of the whole community. Some of them, at the same time, traverse the banks of the river, and cut down smaller trees, from the size of a man's leg to that of his thigh. These they cut to a certain length, dress them into stakes, and first drag them by land to the margin of the river, and then by water to the place where the building is carrying on. These piles they sink down, and interweave the branches with the larger stakes. In performing this operation, many difficulties are to be surmounted. In order to dress these stakes, and to put them in a situation nearly perpendicular, some of the beavers must elevate, with their teeth, the thick ends against the margin of the river, or against the cross tree, while others plunge to the bottom, and dig holes with their fore feet to receive the points, that they may stand on end. When some are laboring in this manner, others bring earth in their mouths and with their fore

feet, and transport it in such quantities that they fill with it all the intervals between the piles. These piles consist of several rows of stakes of equal height, all placed opposite to each other, and extend from one bank of the river to the other. The stakes facing the lower part of the river are placed perpendicularly; but those which are opposed to the stream slope upward, to sustain the pressure of the water; so that the bank, which is ten or twelve feet wide at the base, is reduced to two or three at the top. Near the top, or thinnest part of the bank, the beavers make two or three sloping holes, to allow the surface water to escape. These they enlarge or contract in proportion as the river rises or falls; and, when any breaches are made in the bank by sudden or violent inundations, they know how to repair them when the water subsides.

Hitherto all these operations were performed by the united force and dexterity of the whole community. They now separate into smaller societies, which build cabins or houses. These cabins are constructed upon piles near the margin of the river or pond, and have two openings, one for the animals going to the land, and the other for throwing themselves into the water. The form of these edifices is either round or oval, and they vary in size from four or five to eight or ten feet in diameter. Some of them consist of three or four stories. Their walls are about two feet thick, and are raised perpendicularly upon planks, or plain stakes, which serve both for foundations and floors to their houses. When they consist of but one story, they rise perpendicularly a few feet only, afterwards assume a curved form, and terminate in a dome or vault, which answers the purpose of a roof. They are built with amazing solidity, and neatly plastered with a kind of stucco both within and without. These houses are impenetrable to rain, and resist the most impetuous winds. In their construction they employ different materials, as wood, stone, and a kind of sandy earth, which is not liable to be dissolved in water. The wood they use is generally of the light and tender kinds, as alders, poplars, and willows, which commonly grow on the banks of rivers, and are more easily barked, cut, and transported, than the heavier and more solid species of timber. They always begin the operation of cutting trees at a foot or a foot and a half above