the males) of huge size, a receding chin, and we have an exaggeration of the lowest and most forbidding type of human physiognomy. The neck is short; the head projects. The relative proportion of the body and limbs are nearer those of man, yet they are of more ungainly aspect than in any other of the brute kind. Long, shapeless arms, thick and muscular, with scarce any diminution of size deserving the name of wrist (for at the smallest they are fourteen inches round, while a strong man's wrist is not above eight); a wide, thick hand: the palm long, and the fingers short, swollen and gouty-looking; capacious chest; broad shoulders; legs also thick and shapeless, destitute of calf, and very muscular, yet short; a hand-like foot with a thumb to it, "of huge dimensions and portentous power of grasp." No wonder the lion skulks before this monster; and even the elephant is baffled by his malicious cunning, activity, and strength. The chief reason of his enmity to the elephant appears to be not that it ever intentionally injures him, but merely that it shares. his taste for certain favorite fruits. And when, from his watch-tower in the upper branches of a tree, he perceives the elephant helping himself to these delicacies, he steals along the bough, and striking its sensitive proboscis a violent blow with the club with which he is almost always armed, drives off the startled giant, trumpeting shrilly with rage and pain.

Towards the negroes the gorilla seems to cherish an implacable hatred; he attacks them quite unprovoked. If a party of blacks approach unconsciously within range of a tree haunted by one of those wood-demons— swinging rapidly down to the lower branches, he clutches with his thumbed foot at the nearest of them; his green eyes flash with rage, his hair stands on end, and the skin above the eyes drawn rapidly up and down gives him a fiendish scowl. Sometimes, during their excursions in quest of ivory, in those gloomy forests, the natives will first discover the proximity of a gorilla by the sudden mysterious disappearance of one of their companions. The brute, angling for him

with his horrible foot dropped from a tree, while his strong arms grasp it firmly, stretches down his huge hind-hand, seizes the hapless wretch by his throat, draws him up into the boughs, and, as soon as his struggles have ceased, drops him down, a strangled corpse.

A tree is the gorilla's sleeping-place by night, his pleasant abode by day, and his castle of defence. If surprised as he waddles along, leaning on his club, instantly he betakes him to all-fours, applying the back part of the bent knuckles of his fore-hands to the ground, and makes his way rapidly, with an oblique, swinging kind of gallop, to the nearest tree. From that vantage ground he awaits his foe, should the latter be hardy, or foolhardy, enough, to pursue. Νο full-grown gorilla has ever been taken alive. A bold negro, the leader of an elephant-hunting expedition, was offered a hundred dollars for a live gorilla. "If you gave me the weight of yonder hill in gold, I could not do it," he said.

Nevertheless, he has his good qualities, in a domestic point of view; he is an amiable and exemplary husband and father, watching over his young family with affectionate solicitude, and exerting in their defence his utmost strength and ferocity. At the close of the rice harvest, the period when the gorillas approach nearest the abodes of man, a family group may sometimes be observed, the parents sitting on a branch, leaning against the trunk, as they munch their fruit, while the young innocents sport around, leaping and swinging from branch to branch, with hoots or harsh cries of boisterous mirth. The mothers show that devotion to their young in times of danger which is the most universal of instincts. A French natural-history collector accompanying a party of the Gaboon negroes into the gorilla woods, surprised a female with two young ones on a large bread-fruit-tree which stood some distance from the nearest clump. She descended the tree with her youngest clinging to her neck, and made off rapidly on all fours to the forest, and escaped. The deserted young one on seeing the approach of the

men, began to utter piercing cries; the mother having disposed of one infant, returned to the rescue of the other, but before she could descend with it, her retreat was cut off. Seeing one of the negroes level his musket at her, she, clasping her young with one arm, waved the other, as if deprecating the shot. The ball passed through her heart, and she fell with her young one clinging to her. The latter was a male, and survived the voyage to Havre, where it died on arriving.

The gorilla constructs himself a snug hammock out of the long, tough, slender stems of parasitic plants, and lines it with the broad dried leaves of palms, or with long grass-a sort of bed surely not to be despised, swung in the leafy branches of a tree. By day he sits on a bough, leaning his back against the trunk, owing to which habit elderly gorillas become rather bald in those regions. Sometimes, when walking without a stick, he clasps his hands across the back of his head, thus instinctively counterbalancing its forward. projection. The natives of Gaboon always speak of the gorilla in terms which imply a belief in his close kinship to themselves. But they have a very low opinion of his intelligence. They say that during the rainy season he builds a house without a roof, and that he will come down and warm himself at the fires left by them in their hunting expeditions; but has not the wit to throw on more wood out of the surrounding abundance to keep it burning, "the stupid old man." Mimic though he be, he cannot even catch the trick of human articnlation so well as the parrot or the raven. The negroes aver that he buries his dead by heaping leaves and loose earth over the body. "All the year round."

JAMES HARROD OF HARRODSBURG.

An extraordinary love of solitary adventure was one of the marked characteristics of James Harrod: indeed, the Indians christened him the "Lone Long-Knife," and dreaded his mysterious prowess very greatly.

He on several occasions entered their villages in the night to ascertain their plans; and once, when discovered by a young warrior, struck him to the earth with his huge fist, and then threw himself into the neighbouring forest, though not without being seen and pursued; twenty or thirty warriors followed him, and so close were they upon his heels at the start, that their rifle balls showered like hail about him. The swiftness of Indian runners has passed into a proverb, but they had a man before them more swift than themselves. He gained so much upon them, that by the time they reached the Miami, which was ten miles distant, there were only three warriors who seemed to be continuing the chase.

Harrod swam the river without hesitation; as he reached the opposite bank they came up, and fired at him as he climbed the bank: the river was wide here, and the balls fell short. He now took to a tree upon the edge of the forest, and removing the waterproof cover of deer's bladder from the lock of his rifle, prepared for them, should they attempt to cross the river. The Indians hesitated a moment, for it had now been some time full daylight, and they seemed to have some apprehension that he might make a stand, but hearing at this distance the coming yells of those who had fallen behind, they replied, and plunged into the stream.

Harrod waited until they were more than half across, when at the crack of his rifle the foremost sank; the other two paused, then turned to go back; but before they could get out of range, he wounded a second desperately, who gave himself up to the current, and was swept down. The third, by a series of rapid dives, after the manner of a chased wild duck, succeeded in getting out of range.

Harrod heard the furious howl of the main body of his outwitted pursuers, who had reached the river as he was making off again through the forest: the chase was not continued further.

Two hours afterwards, Harrod struck the bank of the Miami again; he saw upon a pile of driftwood,

which had collected at the mouth of one of the small tributaries of the stream, some living object, which he took for a large turtle glistening in the sun, struggled to drag his unwieldy body upon the logs to bask.

as he

He stopped to gaze; and imagine his astonishment when he saw a tall Indian drag his body slowly from the water, and finally seat himself upon the logs. He had lost his gun, and commenced endeavouring to stifle the bleeding from a bullet wound in his shoulder. Harrod knew that this was the second Indian he had shot, and who had most probably reached one of the pieces of driftwood of which the swollen river was at the time full, and sustained himself by it all this distance, badly wounded as he was.

Here was a trial for such a man as Harrod; his foe was wounded and helpless; to take him prisoner he feared would be impossible, and letting him escape he felt to be contrary to his duty to his own people. He thought within himself some little time before deciding his course, for shoot the poor wretch he could not.

His determination formed, he made a wide circuit, and crept cautiously upon the wounded warrior from behind. A large tree stood close to the drift, which being gained, Harrod laid down his gun, then suddenly stepping into full view from behind the tree raised his hands to show that he was unarmed.

"Uguh!" grunted the astonished warrior, making a sudden movement as if to plunge into the water again. Harrod placed his hand upon his heart, and spoke two words in the Shawanee tongue. The Indian paused, and looking at him a moment earnestly, bowed his head in token of submission. Harrod helped him to the bank, tore his own shirt and bound up the wound with cooling herbs; and then, as he found the savage unable to walk, threw him across his broad shoulders, and bore him, not to the "station," but to a cave which he used as one of his places of deposit. No one knew of the existence of this hiding-place but himself, and he had discovered it by the accident of having driven a wounded bear into it.