"Bound as they are, and circumscribed in plaee,
They rend the world resistless as they pass,
And mighty marks of mischief leave behind,
Such is the rage of their tempestuous kind."

"These whirlwinds," observed Captain Laws, "are very common on the plains around Agra, in the East Indies; as many as thirty whirlwinds, Mr. R. Jackson, the secretary of the Royal Geographical Society, says may be counted at a time, sweeping over the country, and, urging along vast columns of sand of many feet in diameter, attain to a great height in the atmosphere. This phenomenon is sometimes followed by hail, and the hailstones are then found to contain so great a quantity of sand that a half-pint glass filled with them, upon being thawed, leaves a deposit of half an inch in thickness."

"I have seen miniature whirlwinds in this country," I remarked, "and they have generally taken place in the hottest weather, when not a breath of air has otherwise been moving. It is curious upon these occasions to watch the gyrations of everything, over which the spiral column of air passes, and if it meets with a field of newly-cut grass the effect is singular indeed. The last I witnessed was in the past summer, from the door of the Angler's Rest' at Wraysbury, on the Thames, where its passage over the withy beds could be distinctly traced, and its power to twist the wands of osiers to the detachment of their leaves seen for nearly a mile."

"We had returned to camp from the labours of the day," went on the recital; "the fire was nearly out, and nothing prepared for supper. Alike fatigued and hungry, each refused in turn to discharge the duties of cook, and the gloomy prospect presented itself of a supperless night. 'Uncle Nat,' as we familiarly called him, was a jolly old soul,' the very personification of good nature, rotundity, and quietude, possessing withal a fair share of ingenious wit, and from his corpulency and asthmatical tendencies, reminding one of a small locomotive by the puffing and blowing consequent on physical exertion. Now how to settle this matter, and have even any number of volunteer cooks, at once occurred to Uncle Nat.'

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"Dear me !' (his favourite expression), what a time about cooking. Why, it is the easiest thing in nature to get supper. Now, boys, if you will all wait upon me, I'll be cook.'

"Agreed! agreed!' was the ready response on all hands. This matter being arranged, Uncle Nat' very deliberately deposited himself on the log, or deacon's seat,' and commenced drilling the volunteer assistants.

"Now, Richard, get a little wood, and kindle up the fire. Isaac, step down to the brook, and fetch a pail of water. And you, Mac, while the fire is getting under way, wash a few potatoes, and get them ready to put on when the pot boils. Now, Jake, cut a few slices of pork,' continued our chief cook, with much sang froid, and put it over the fire to fry.'

"But you were to get supper, Uncle Nat.'

"Yes, I was to get supper, but you were to wait upon me,' says he, casting a significant glance toward Tom, at the same time ordering him to make the dishes ready. Remonstrance was in vain; they had agreed to wait upon him if he would be cook. Everything was ar

ranged, supper ready, and there still sat the old gentleman-hadn't

stirred an inch.

"Dear me !' (deep breathing), dear me!' said Uncle Nat, 'I have got supper, and 'twas one of the easiest things in the world.'

"The boys' are caught; it was a 'good 'un;' and to the enjoyment of a relishable supper was added a hearty laugh. Uncle Nat's proposition passed into a by-word, and all ever after were ready to do anything, provided they could be waited upon. "

"I think," I observed, "that that anecdote is familiar to me; indeed, I have either heard it or read it somewhere. I have more than once practised it, myself having once seen it carried out by my fishing chum, Mr. W. Eglinton, upon a lovely Thames island near Wraysbury. It is an excellent way of settling a very debatable question; and as it has generally been determined that the fattest man should be chef, I have carried all the weight of a personal choice. Our little parties, however, have mostly added a spice of domestic humour to the cuisine by calling each by a female name-thus: Betty, you slut, look at those plates; do you call them clean ?' 'Sal, you hussy, don't let that saucepan boil over, and put the fire out. Was ever a woman troubled with such a set of servants? Well, I don't know what the world is coming to, next. It's we are the servants. What with silks and satins, and Sundays out every week, a policeman to every house, &c., &c. !-Well, proceed with the Transatlantic anecdotes."

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"Timber, hollow at the butt, affords fine winter retreats for bears. We have a high time of it when we chance to make such a discovery. A few rods from the main logging road there stood a very large pine-tree. We had nearly completed our winter's work, and it still stood unmolested, because, from appearances, it was supposed to be worthless. While passing it one day, not quite satisfied with the decision that had been made upon its quality, I resolved to satisfy my own mind touching its value; so, wallowing to it through the snow, which was nearly up to my middle, I struck it several blows with the head of my axe-an experiment to test whether a tree be hollow or not. When I desisted, my attention was arrested by a slight scratching and whining. Suspecting the cause, but not quite satisfied, I thumped the tree again, listening more attentively, and heard the same noise as before it was a bear's den. Examining the tree more closely, I discovered a small hole in the trunk, near the roots, with a rim of ice on the edge of the orifice, made by the freezing of the breath and vapour from the inmates. Satisfied now of the character of the prisoners, I communicated my discovery at once to the rest of the crew, who immediately left their work and ran like a pack of hounds, jumping and leaping through the deep snow. We kicked the snow away from the roots to learn the place of entrée, which we plugged up with bits of wood, after removing the frozen dirt and turf with which it was closed. We next cut a hole into the tree, about four feet from the ground, some eight or ten inches in diameter. Into this a pole was thrust to stir them up, and get them to put their heads out below when the hole should be opened again. Having annoyed them sufficiently to induce them to attempt an egress from the passage below, the obstacles were removed, after stationing two men, one on either side, with their axes to despatch

them-when the old bear thrust out her head. A severe wound was inflicted, which sent her back growling and gnashing her teeth. Again thrusting the pole through the upper aperture, we punched and jibed her for some minutes before she could be induced to make a second effort to escape. When she did, she was met as before, receiving a second and more deadly wound, which was succeeded with less furious demonstrations of rage than before. A third effort was made to drive them out, but there was no response, save piteous crying of small cubs. We then cut a small hard-wood tree, trimmed off the branches, leaving one prong about six inches long, sharpened out, forming a hook. Enlarging the aperture below, we thrust in the wooden hook, which grappled a heavy but resistless carcase. With much exertion, we drew it forth; she was dead. The cubs, four in number-a thing unusual by one-half-we took alive, and finally sold them. They were quite small and harmless, of a most beautiful lustrous black, and fat as porpoises. The old dam was uncommonly large; we judged she might weigh about three hundred pounds. Her hide, when stretched out and nailed on to the end of the camp, appeared quite equal to a cow's hide in dimensions."

"I have gathered," said I, "many quaint notions and conceits respecting bears from old books, some of which are best fitted for an exclusively medical work. Amongst others that are relateable is the assertion that a bear, after quitting the regular roads used by man, walks backwards to his den, and thus enters his lurking place, so that he may scratch out his footsteps from the sight of the hunters. It is commonly received as a truth, though it is palpably a vulgar error, that whelps of bears at their first littering are without form or fashion, and are nothing but a little congealed blood, like a lump of flesh; and afterwards the old one, with her tongue, frameth them by licking them to her own likeness.' This opinion may be easily disproved, for they are littered blind without hair, the hinder legs are not perfect, the fore-feet folded up like a fist, and other members deformed by reason of the immoderate humour or moistness in them. They are said to have a wonderful scent, and will smell farther than any other beast except a boar; for, in a whole forest, the bear will smell out a tree laden with mast."

"By-the-bye, beech-nut, burned and cracked, makes a very good substitute for coffee. The leaves were formerly used in Britain, and are to this day in some parts of Europe, for filling beds. Evelyn says that its very leaves, which form a natural and most agreeable canopy all the summer, being gathered about the fall, and somewhat before they are much frost-bitten, afford the best and the easiest mattresses in the world to lay under our quilts instead of straw; because, besides their tenderness and loose lying together, they continue sweet for seven or eight years long, before which time straw becomes musty and hard. They are used by divers persons of quality in Dauphine; and in Switzerland I have sometimes lain on them, to my very great refreshment. So as of this tree it may properly be said, the wood's a house-the leaves a bed.' 'We can,' says Sir Thomas Dick Lauder, 'from our own experience bear testimony to the truth of what Evelyn says here as to the excellence of beech-leaves for mattresses. We used always to think that the most luxurious and refreshing bed was that which pre

vails universally in Italy, and which consists of an absolute pile of mattresses filled with the elastic spathe of the Indian corn, which beds have the advantage of being soft as well as elastic; and we have always found the sleep enjoyed on them to be peculiarly sound and restorative. But the beds made of beech-leaves are really not a whit behind them in these qualities, while the fragrant smell of green tea which the leaves retain is most gratifying.'

EVELYN, CRAWFORD, AND LAVALETTE REMAIN AT THE INN.

Completely snowed up, as we now found we were, on the borders of the Forest of Marly, and obliged to keep within doors on account of the great depth of snow which had fallen, our days would have been very wearisome were it not for the chess and backgammon boards with which we were furnished, and a few old books which the mistress of the inn, after some rummaging for them, brought forth.

But if our days appeared long notwithstanding those helps to get through them, our evenings were certainly not so. How it was I cannot say; but our spirits always seemed to rise after we had dined, and taken our wine, and smoked a reasonable share of cigars; then we were ready to sing, tell stories, and sit up until midnight.

Now that I look back, I think we enjoyed the evenings the more for the intense gloominess of the stormy, snowy, clouded day; besides which, our apartment was decidedly warmer when the outer world was barred out. True, we sometimes withdrew the ponderous iron bars to have a look into the forest, which presented a scene as wild as winter could show. If we did not see, we could well fancy that, amidst the impervious thickets and doubtful shadows which the eye vainly tried to pierce,

"The shapeless bear,

With dangling ice all horrid, stalks forlorn;
Slow-paced, and sourer as the storms increase."

I was thus engaged on the fourth evening of our forced sojourn at the little inn-I must confess, letting a biting blast into the room— when Crawford, who had been looking over a book of travels, called my attention to a very interesting account of the manner in which they hunted with the eagle in Chinese Tartary. It was a very vivid description. The eagle, chained to a perch with shackles, and a hood on, was held by one of the hunters. As soon as the deer were discovered bounding over the plain, the bird was unhooded, and his shackles removed. He sprung from his perch, and rose high into the air. Then, after wheeling round, and poising himself, he swooped off in a direct line towards his prey. His speed was like the wind, and away went the hunt after him. He struck his prey; the deer gave one bound, and fell. The eagle had struck one talon into his neck, and another into

his back. He then began to tear out the poor animals's liver with his beak, upon which he was immediately hooded and shackled.

This is but a meagre account of several pages of interesting matter which Crawford read aloud for us. The Sultan, with his three hunters or guards, his band of kirghis, in their bright-coloured kalats-for the greater part armed with battle-axes, and the wild country over which they passed-haunt of the savage boar-form a striking picture. This species of eagle is so powerful as to be able to attack and kill the wolf. When Crawford ceased reading, our conversation naturally ran in the same channel. We discussed the longevity of the eagle, particularly the golden eagle (Aquila chrysaetos); a German naturalist says that one of those died at Vienna, after a confinement of a hundred years. That the golden eagle was a bird of great magnitude I could affirm, as I had seen a very large one some short time back, when I was in Ireland, in the mountainous districts of which country the golden eagle is to be found. The one I allude to was four feet tall at its full height, with a corresponding stretch of wing when expanded. It was truly a magnificent bird, and was taken when young in the Curlien mountains, where they are very numerous, and given to a gentleman, in whose family it became domesticated. It lived for many years in his gardens, which were situated on a slope overhanging a lake. Its favourite perch was a large apple-tree; and, though it often soared away for a fortnight or three weeks, being free and unfettered, it always returned again to its home in the garden.

This beautiful creature was killed at last by a ferocious mastiffbitch, which died immediately after from the wounds inflicted by the eagle in its death-struggle.

Eagles are seldom so thoroughly demesticated as the one you mention," said Crawford. "A gentleman in the south of Scotland had one, not many years ago, which appeared very tame. He was not, however, at liberty, but was chained up; his keeper thought proper to give him a lash with the horsewhip one day for some slight fault; this so enraged the bird, that a week afterwards, when the man happened to stoop within reach of his chain, the eagle, recollecting the late insult, flew at his face and wounded him terribly. He was only saved from the further effect of the bird's fury by having been thrown backward out of his reach, by the violence of the blow. The screams of the eagle alarmed the whole family, who found the man quite stunned, lying at a distance in a bloody condition. The bird was still pacing and screaming in a manner not less formidable than majestic, and his exertions to break loose were so violent, that the assembled party had scarcely reached the house with the wounded man, than the chain broke, and the eagle escaped, never to be seen by them again. The golden eagle is as numerous in the midland and northern divisions of the mountainous districts of Scotland, and likewise in the Hebrides, as you, Evelyn, say they are in Ireland, and many curious stories do they tell of them. Scarcely is there a village in their vicinity which has not had an infant carried away; and Ray relates that in one of the Orkneys a child of a year old was seized by an eagle, and carried about four miles to its nest. The mother pursued it, found her child in the nest, and took it away unhurt. "Have you ever seen one of their nests, Evelyn?"

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