hark! hark! hark!

   a den is opening!'

   He was right; it was the den of a catawampuss, an animal whose habits are so well known that I need not delay to describe them.

   In the centre of the dark pool in the middle of the vague space lay one crocodile. The rest were sleeping on the banks. The catawampuss secretly emerged from its den—horror, I am not ashamed to say, prevented me from interfering—stealthily crept across the cold floor, and, true to the instincts of all the feline tribe,

    20

   made straight for the water.

    20

    Is

   the catawampuss one of the Felidæ?—

    Publisher.

   Of course he is. Look at his name!—

    Ed.

   'Ah!' cried Ustâni, 'he's going for him!'

   The expression was ambiguous, but we understood it.

   The catawampuss, cunning as the dread jerboa, crept to the edge of the pool, took a header into it, and then, still true to the feline instincts,

    swimming on its back

   , made its way to the crocodile. In this manner it caught the crocodile by the tail and waked it. When the tail of a crocodile awakes the head awakes also. The crocodile's head, then, waking as the catawampuss seized its tail, caught the tail of the catawampuss. The interview was hurried and tumultuous.

   The crocodile had one of his ears chawed off (first blood for the catawampuss), but this was a mere temporary advantage. When next we saw clearly through the tempest of flying fur and scales, the head of the catawampuss

 

 Prev. P 24/57 next