Chatterbox, 1906 Part 11

By HAROLD ERICSON.

II.--DENISON'S HALL-MARK.

'Now look here, you fellows,' began Denison, whose turn it was to entertain the company at the camp-fire the next night, 'don't you go laughing at the story I'm going to tell you, and pretending that you don't believe it's true, for that would hurt my feelings, and I might burst into tears, and you wouldn't like to see a strong man weep!'

'Go on,' said Bobby, rudely, 'or perhaps one of us will give the strong man something to weep for!'

Denison eyed the speaker with contempt, but plunged into his tale at once. 'See this mark?' he said, turning up his sleeve and showing a scar upon his forearm, 'and this?' he indicated a mark on his neck; 'Well, you're going to hear how I came by these. Do you know what a Hall-mark is? A lion stamped on good metal; that's it, isn't it? Well, these are Hall-marks: the stamp of a lion; only Stationers' Hall didn't stamp them: the lion made his own mark on me. I've got more of them on my arms and legs.'

It was like this: I was antelope-shooting with a friend not so very far from the spot we are now in, though a bit farther north. My friend, Thomson by name, had been a trifle off colour, and just now was quite on the sick list, so that we had not moved camp for some time, and I spent my days in trying to get a specimen of water-buck for my collection of antelope heads.

One morning, to my joy and excitement, I came upon the spoor of a herd of them, I was alone and some miles from camp; our cleverest Kaffir hunter was on the sick list as well as Thomson, so that as a matter of fact I had been obliged to go alone--a kind of veldt influenza had got hold of the other two, and neither of them felt worth two penn'orth of toffee. I came in sight of my little water-buck family when I had scouted after them for about an hour; they were grazing peacefully in a plateau half a mile away, quite unsuspicious of my presence and evil intentions with regard to them. I was scouting against the wind, of course, and had hopes of getting my shot in--the first I had ever fired at this particular species. I made for a boulder which lay between myself and the herd, and creeping most cautiously and slowly (for I was really keen to succeed), I reached it without alarming the timid animals, which were now scarcely four hundred yards away. Very carefully I raised myself from the snake-like att.i.tude in which I had made my advance, in order to risk a peep over the edge of the rock, for I must lay my exact plan of campaign, so that I might make sure of another couple of hundred yards, which distance gained, I was going to fire my shot.

I had risen from my crouching att.i.tude, and was about half-way to the upright, when all of a sudden the world seemed to come to an end and break up into stars and giddy whirlings, accompanied by sharp pains in the back, flights through s.p.a.ce, and terrific thunderous sounds in my very ears. I was conscious of turning a double or triple somersault, of alighting face-down on the long gra.s.s, of a heavy weight leaning upon my neck and spine, of pain, stiffness, semi-consciousness, of a continuous noise as though a motor-car lay and throbbed and whirred on the top of me. What had happened?'

I lay and wondered for a few minutes. Had there been a volcanic eruption? Were bits of it lying upon me and pinning me down? Would there be another upheaval in a moment; more steely-blue stars and another flight, and then--the end? If so, I wished it would come quickly and not leave me in suspense, and, oh! if only the horrible whirring noise at my ear would only stop for a minute. My head ached as though it would burst. I opened my eyes, but could see nothing but the stalks of yellow gra.s.s in which my face was buried.

Was I sufficiently alive--had I energy enough to move, to raise my aching head a little way in order to look around a bit? For a few minutes I could not summon sufficient strength to stir a finger; I felt paralysed and utterly bereft of the power to set my muscles working.

Gradually, however, I began to feel a little better, the noise at my ear ceased and let peace in; a delightful calm followed, and with it consciousness gradually returned.

I raised my head a few inches; instantly something came in violent contact with the back of my skull, dealing me a stunning blow; at the same time a crash of thunder reverberated at my ear, and again I lay still, conscious only of the horrible whirring sound which had begun again and continued without ceasing. I think I entirely lost consciousness at this point, and lay, it might have been a few minutes, it might have been an hour, lost to every sense of fear, of wonder, of pain.

When I awoke, on regaining consciousness, I still lay upon my face, but my brain felt more capable of coping with the situation. I lay and reflected. Something had happened to me: was it a stroke of paralysis? I moved the muscles of my face: they were all right on both sides. I turned my head slightly first one way and then the other--no, I was not paralysed. I tried to raise myself, but found that some heavy weight upon the small of my back prevented me. That was odd. Could there have been an earthquake, and had some rock rolled over upon me--a most unlikely thing, yet what else could it be? I wriggled my back in order to discover, if I could, the nature of the incubus. Instantly there recommenced that abominable sound, close to my ear, which had so angered me before; now that my brain was once more in working order I was able to listen with understanding. The sound was the growling of some great beast; the weight upon my back could be nothing else than its paw which held me down; I was, in a word, at the mercy of a savage animal, doubtless a lion, for the weight of the paw proved that it could be no smaller beast. I had been knocked down from behind: stalked while I myself stalked the water-buck; I was in the position of a mouse which has been caught by a cat.

My brain remained wonderfully clear, though I expected that my reason would leave me in that moment of terror. It did not. On the contrary, I lay there and thought more keenly and quickly, I believe, than I had ever thought before. How long ago had the brute sprung upon me? Surely an hour, at least, must have pa.s.sed since I fell, or was it that time pa.s.ses very slowly in these terrible moments? I counted thirty slowly--well, that was half a minute; nothing happened.

'Why doesn't he eat me?' I wondered. 'There must be a reason for the delay. Is he waiting for his mate?' He certainly was waiting--while I lay and thought, another minute or two had pa.s.sed.

I longed to screw my head round so that I might at least catch a glimpse of the brute in whose power I lay. I wondered where my rifle was--if only I could see or reach it! There was a skinning-knife, I knew, in my belt, and the recollection gave me a moment of joy. A knife is not much of a weapon with which to engage a lion in battle, especially if one could not get at it; but where there is a knife there is hope. Something hard was in my right hand--what was it? Why--what--it was my rifle! It might as well, of course, be a hundred miles away at the present moment, for I dared not move a finger to draw it towards me, and my arms were both stretched at full length in front of me; but still, when the fatal moment should arrive it _might_ come in useful, and the thought encouraged and cheered me.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Stalked while I myself stalked the water-buck."]

Meanwhile, was the beast falling asleep? Oh, if only he would, I thought! The idea almost stopped my breathing, so fearful was I lest anything I might do should keep my foe awake! I believe he did doze a little. The pressure of the great paw upon my back seemed to relax a trifle. I waited what seemed to me a quarter of an hour; then--my heart in my mouth--I tried a tiny little wriggle. In a moment the pressure increased, a roar rent the air, I thought my last moment had arrived and a prayer came to my lips. I felt my left shoulder or upper arm seized.

'Heaven help me!' I muttered aloud--my head swam--I think I fainted for a second. When I recovered consciousness I was being dragged through the long gra.s.s.

(_Concluded on page 68._)

PEEPS INTO NATURE'S NURSERIES.

I.--THE LIFE-HISTORY OF THE COMMON FROG

(_Concluded from page 12._)

We come now to the final stages in the life of the tadpole babies. These are indicated by the appearance of a pair of tiny buds on each side of the base of the tail; day by day they grow longer and longer, and finally a.s.sume the form of the hind-leg of the adult. But as yet there are no fore-legs. If, however, the little beast be carefully examined, the missing limbs will be found tucked away under the throat, and in a day or so the left arm is thrust through the breathing-hole, to be followed shortly after by the right, which has to rupture the skin to gain its freedom. As soon as this takes place, in a wild state the tadpole comes of age, so to speak, and creeps ash.o.r.e to a.s.sume his new dignity of frog-hood. For a little while longer, however, he carries the evidence of his infancy about with him, in the shape of a short, stumpy tail; but in a very brief s.p.a.ce the last remnant of this disappears, and now, save in size, he cannot be distinguished from his parents.

There is a common belief that at a certain time the tail of the tadpole falls off. Nature is not so wasteful. This tail, when it has served its purpose as a swimming organ--that is to say, as soon as the hind legs have developed enough to take up their duties--is gradually absorbed.

And this fact recalls another. It will be remembered that it was pointed out that for some time after leaving the egg no food was taken at the mouth, because there was no mouth, but life was sustained by the reserve of yolk within the body, the remains of the egg, in short. Similarly, we have a second period when no food is taken, and this takes place while the tail is being used up, and the mouth is being transformed. Exactly how this using-up process is effected cannot be easily explained here; but it forms what is known as a reserve store of food. In a similar way, dormice, squirrels, and bears grow very fat before they retire to some snug hole to sleep out the long winter. The gradual waste of the body which goes on during the long sleep is made good by slowly using up the fat which was acc.u.mulated during the summer and autumn.

At last, then, the tail of the tadpole disappears, and with this several new features become apparent. These are the new breathing arrangements, a new mouth and system of catching food, and shorter intestines.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Common Frog, showing tongue in action.]

About this new breathing. In ourselves this is done by means of our ribs, which alternately rise, increasing the cavity of the chest and the capacity of the lungs, and fall, or rather are pulled down, decreasing the chest cavity, and pressing out the air from the lungs. The frog pumps in air by that curious movement of the throat which the ignorant suppose to be a preparation for poison-spitting. When the throat is depressed the mouth cavity is increased, and air rushes in through the nostrils and fills the chamber. When the floor of his mouth is raised again the cavity is reduced, and the air is forced down the windpipe into the lungs, being unable to escape through the nostrils, because they are closed by special valves.

The mouth is now toothless, and of great size. The young frog feeds on living prey, which is generally caught by the tongue. For this purpose, the tongue in the frog and toad is fixed to the front of the floor of the mouth, so that the tip of the tongue points _backwards_ towards the throat! In capturing, say a fly, the frog creeps as near his prey as he can manage, and then, with a lightning movement, darts the tongue forward on the unsuspecting victim. The tongue being covered with a sticky substance, the fly adheres to the trap and is drawn in a twinkling into the cavern, from which return is impossible. The working of the tongue may be seen in the ill.u.s.tration.

The shortening of the intestine follows in consequence of the change to more nutritious diet. In the young tadpole it is long and may be seen coiled up like a watch-spring through the skin of the abdomen; in the adult these coils disappear.

Such, then, is the brief outline of the life-history of one of Nature's water babies. We have traced it from the egg to the grown-up form: and here we must stop, though all that is of interest does not end here. I could tell you of the curious way in which the frog changes colour to suit his surroundings; of how he changes his skin; of his wonderful vocal powers, and a hundred other things. But meanwhile, try and discover it for yourselves by keeping a few frogs as pets, starting, as I did, with the sp.a.w.n taken from a ditch in spring.

W. P. PYCRAFT, F.Z.S., A.L.S.

THE GIANT OF THE TREASURE CAVES.

(_Continued from page 31._)

CHAPTER II.

Estelle could scarcely believe her eyes at the sight of Thomas. Her cry made Marjorie and Georgie look round. Thomas there! How was it she had not seen him before? How was it he had not heard their calls to him? Had Alan had his dangerous climb for nothing?

With a sudden rush of anger, Marjorie was about to call to Thomas, when another amazing event stopped her. Alan appeared at the entrance of the cave, and signalling rapidly to her, put his fingers to his lips.

Puzzled and uncertain what he wanted her to do, she remained sitting near the sand castle, telling Georgie to be quiet till Alan could explain. Estelle meanwhile had dropped her stones, and, throwing herself down by her cousin, wanted to know what Alan was doing.

'He will be here in a second,' said Marjorie, trying not to speak impatiently in her anxiety, 'but he evidently does not wish us to look as if we saw him. Let us go on playing as if nothing had happened.'

'But why mayn't we meet Alan?' demanded Georgie, stooping that he might see under his sister's great hat.

'He doesn't want us to. I think he does not like Thomas to know he has not been with us all the time. But it is all guessing, really, for I don't know more than you do,' she added, as she saw both children were about to ply her with questions.

Meantime, Alan, having caught the spirit of the game over which the others were interested, took up the largest stones he could find, and came to join the party. It was more than likely that Thomas would imagine he had been helping with the castle the whole time.

'Well?' said Marjorie, looking up, and at the same time pointing to where she desired the stones to be placed.

They all began to help in arranging them while Alan spoke in low tones of his adventure.

'It is really true, Marjorie, that something is up. I don't understand it yet, and even if I did this is no place to tell you about what I heard. Just keep quiet about my climb, all of you. Do you hear, Georgie?' For his little brother was not good at keeping secrets, and Alan thought this a serious matter.