track now rapidly descends into the ancient marshes, at this day inhabited, as of old, by water-fowl. It is said by engineers, that if all impediments were removed, the tide would yet be seen rising and falling in the water before Buckingham Palace; and it is certainly characteristic of a maritime nation, accustomed to the water, that we have placed the Houses of Parliament and the principal royal palace in the ancient beds of rivers.

SPORT IN ALGERIA.

THE chief occupation of the Arabs in Algeria, especially those who inhabit the Sahel, or coast-belt, is the chase. This may be easily comprehended, if we reflect that the wild beasts are their indefatigable enemies, taking a handsome annual toll from the herds, which are their sole property, and not hesitating to fetch their prey at night out of the enclosures, if they cannot catch it in the open. For this reason the mountaineer soon gets used to the loss, and merely feels savage when a head of cattle is missing; but he is not frightened, and his sole desire is to trap the cunning thing by still greater cunning. But, though he labour so pertinaciously, it is very rare for him to catch the robber in the act, for the latter, after a first plundering bout, usually remains away for a long time, and does not return for months, or when least expected. A man living in a district visited by lions and panthers may calculate on losing at least five per cent. of his herds annually: he expects nothing else, indeed, and does not feel particularly grieved at it, because it was inevitable. It is the Lord's will! he says, calmly, for he knows that "so it was written." The only thing he can do, in a few rare instances, and only if he arrive betimes, is to cut the throat of his unfortunate cow or ox according to the Muhammadan rite, and thus render its flesh eatable by the true believer.

But the Arabs are not always so lucky as to catch the robber at the moment when he has fallen on his booty, for frequently the herdsman does not notice that a head is missing until he is driving the cattle home, for the beasts of prey, which have been prowling round them for hours under the shelter of the brushwood, pounce on animals which have strayed from the rest.

If you ask an Arab or Kabyle how many oxen he has, he generally replies that he does not know, for a good Mussulman must not count the bounty of God: but he knows very soon if a head be missing, and does so almost before the herd has been driven into the fold. In this case he summons some neighbours to his aid, and they search the wood until they have found the missing animal, dead or alive. They will often remain the whole night on the inhospitable mountains, and neither darkness nor rain damps their zeal. Generally, one or the other brings in

the hide of the animal, unless he has found it at a spot where what is called a "seda" is practicable, where the native sportsman watches for the wild beast, until he can kill it without risk when it returns to its intercepted meal. This may happen within two hours of the ambush being formed, as the robber usually lies down in a neighbouring ravine or thicket to await the process of digestion, and then returns for a second gorge. At times, though, it will scent mischief and not return at all, for which reason the ambuscade does not always prove a success. And yet the number of lions and panthers annually killed in the province of Constantine is large, as is proved by the published list of rewards granted by the prefecture for the slaughter of these wild beasts: it also sufficiently proves that the natives are not deficient in courage or perseverance to punish these hereditary foes of their herds.

If the keeper of the herd has a gun, which is generally the case when a grown person undertakes the duty, a beast of prey, from the largest to the smallest, will rarely venture an open attack; but if it be guarded by children, as is frequently the case in the mountains, they have often to drive off a jackal or a lynx, which, with extraordinary audacity, will pounce on a sheep or a goat in the sight of the youthful herdsmen. At times, too, it happens that a lion or panther will dash up and carry off an animal, in spite of the shouts and stones with which the children try to keep it off. In such a case it was a dispensation of Allah, to which the pious Mussulman yields without a murmur. But if the flock has been damaged by a smaller wild beast, the children are responsible for it, and as it is assumed that the loss may be ascribed to their negligence, they may be certain of a sound thrashing from their father. On this account they only drive the flock up to the sriba, whence it can easily find its way home, and hide themselves in the bushes till nightfall, and then beg a relative or neighbour, of whom they ask a night's lodging, to intercede with the father. On the next morning, before the flock is driven out, the angry father has been appeased, and the children resume the command of the flock, though they do not feel secure till they have left the paternal cabin a long way behind them.

As late as fifteen years ago, those Arabs who had no children to undertake the duty hired a grown-up keeper, to whom they paid twenty francs a year; children they procured for half the price-at times even merely for their board. In addition, they gave them two shirts a year, and, in extreme cases, a worn-out burnous. In return for this the shepherds were obliged to follow the vagabond flock in all weathers over hill and dale, through bushes and across rocks, defend them from wild beasts, and, if they were boys, they also ran a risk of being thrashed on their return home if, in spite of all their care, a hyæna or lynx had killed a sheep or goat. But since the colonists in the vicinity of towns have paid their herdsmen twenty to thirty francs a month, the demands of the hired men have risen considerably, and their pay has been augmented, although the number of natives employed by Christians has always been limited. Though this advance of wage was so pleasant for the poor Arabs, it was most disagreeable to the mountaineers, who preferred to have their flocks guarded by their children, and it is now very rare for an Arab to hire a shepherd.

The mountaineers of North Africa have hitherto found an extraordinary charm in their mode of living, and in spite of the increasing restrictions which the government imposes on them in favour of the hirers of the cork woods, they prefer their sriba in the mountains, where they have wood and water in abundance, to a fertile plot of land on the plain, where they often miss both. And if they made the exchange, which is represented to them as so advantageous, what would become of their exciting chase, from the terrible lion down to the cunning jackal? "No, we will remain in the mountains," they say, "where we get enough to eat, and powder speaks all the year round, while the poor dwellers on the plains must content themselves with shooting partridges, or birds of passage now and then."

For this reason the best and boldest hunters of Algeria will be found in the mountains; but their mode of hunting, which requires more patience and craft than skill, has nothing in common with European sport, and a foreigner, however good a shot he may be, must learn several things from them if he wish for any success. Most of them still carry the flint-gun inherited from their father or grandfather, and only few have begun to learn the use of percussion-caps; but none of them shoot on the wing or at running game, though they bring down standing or sitting game with remarkable certainty at very long distances.

When I first went to Dmel-Bes-Bes, which is situated in the heart of a mountain forest behind Cape Filfila, the occupants of the sriba there, consisting of three brothers, a cousin of theirs, and an old shepherd, were at first displeased at my arrival, until they at length discovered that my sole object was botanical researches. At the same time I at once gained the affection of the children, and finally that of the old folk, when they saw that there was more to make than to lose by me. In this way they gradually came to regard me as one of themselves, and we lived upon a very decent footing, which would have been better had I not been a Rounic.

Among the children, Chamissa, the daughter of my neighbour Ali, and ten years of age, soon became my intimate friend. She visited me daily on her return from the pasturage where she guarded the sheep and goats, and often dried her scanty clothing at my fire, after spending the whole day in the rain and snow. One evening, just as it was beginning to grow dark, there was a gentle scratching at my door, and I was greatly surprised on opening it to see little Chamissa step in. The lion, she told me, had carried off a goat that day, and her father, who was a very passionate man, would certainly beat her, although the shepherds are not answerable for an animal killed by a lion or panther. For this reason she would not return home till his passion was appeased, and she had found a temporary refuge among the tall ferns behind the sriba. must give her a lump of bread, though, as she had eaten nothing since noon, and was very hungry. I gave her what she asked, and tried to persuade her to remain in my hut, while I went to speak with her father about her; but she would not be held, and escaped into the darkness again ere I had time to look round.

I

As Chamissa did not make her appearance on the next morning, her flock, on this occasion, was joined to her uncle's. The day passed with

out the slightest tidings of her, but in the evening, when her father had gone to an outlying barley-field, she called for a moment on an aunt in order to get something to eat, and then disappeared again, in spite of all the entreaties to stop. She did not come to supper, and her angry father sought her everywhere where he fancied she might be concealed; and she would certainly have fared ill had her father found her at this On his return the moon had risen, and we conversed for some time about the discomforts of a country life, until sleep overpowered us, and the family party broke up.

moment.

I was just falling asleep, when I suddenly heard the roar of a lion, apparently coming from the mountain track that ran down into the plain. As the roaring continually drew nearer, I got up again and dressed, so as to be ready for any event. While I was preparing my rifle, I heard Ali shouting from his gourbi, and asking whether I had noticed the lion. Directly after he came up himself, armed from head to foot, and invited me to follow him to a small clearing, across which the path leading to the Dmel-Bes-Bes runs, and over which the wild beast was certain to come: we could conceal ourselves in the bed of a mountain torrent, and have a very fair chance of a shot.

Our road ran through a fallow field joining the forest, and covered with alternating patches of asphodel and fern. Again the roaring of the lion could be heard, but much nearer than on the previous occasion. As I was afraid we might not reach our hiding-place in time, I urged my companion to hurry on; but he stopped, looked carefully around, and then cried in a low voice, "Chamissa, Chamissa, my daughter, dost thou not hear? there is a lion approaching. Go home, no harm shall be done thee; by the head of the Prophet no hurt shall be done thee; I forgive thee." But Chamissa was either not there, or deemed it advisable not to answer, for everything remained silent as the grave. After Ali had called several times more, and wasted all his promises not to punish her, he started again, and we soon reached the spot where we were to await the lion. We only heard it roar once from the direction of the path, but after that noticed for a long time only the buzzing of the mosquitoes, which mercilessly stung our hands and faces. At length the roar was heard a long way to the right of the path, and we concluded from this that the lion was retreating to the Bu-Xaiba mountain.

On our return, Ali confessed to me that it was anxiety for his daughter which had driven him from home, for she would have been hopelessly lost if the wild beast had come across her. Before we parted, he again begged me to assure her of his forgiveness, if she came to see me, which I willingly promised. Chamissa, however, who was lying but a few yards from us in the thick brushwood, and understood every word spoken by her alarmed father, did not wait to hear his pardon repeated, but ran at full speed to the sriba, where she slept in the goat-shed. The next morning found her busily engaged with milking her flock, and she got off with a short lecture from her father, and a warning to be more careful in future.

All went on now its usual course, and the cattle proceeded daily into the forest, where they remained till six P.M.; but nothing was heard of the lion. Ali passed three or four nights on the roof of his cattle-shed

to watch for the lion, whose secret return he apprehended; but as everything remained quiet, he soon gave up his watch. One morning, however, he missed a sheep, and as not the slightest sound had been heard the previous night, it was supposed that the sheep had been left behind at the pasturage. On the next morning, however, another was missing, and on going round the enclosure they found the footmarks of a huge lion, which had leaped over the fence at a spot where it was lower. The Arabs accounted for it taking a sheep instead of a goat by the fact that the latter always make a dreadful noise, while the former allow themselves to be dragged off without a sound. It had rained rather heavily during the last two nights, and the cunning brute had chosen its time so well that the generally so watchful dogs had noticed nothing. Ali now redoubled his attention, but to no effect, for a month passed and nothing happened to disturb the nocturnal peace. One morning, however, two young men came up from El Seba-Aïoun (the Seven Springs), a solitary sriba lying at the foot of the Bu-Xaiba, to inquire after a straying cow: at mid-day their father arrived to inform Abdallah, the eldest of my neighbours, that the missing cow had been killed by a lion or panther, and was lying about two miles lower down, on the right of the path leading to Ochrab. At the same time he begged him to go with him to the spot, as he had prepared a seda, which would hold two persons comfortably, in a tree close by.

Abdallah was considered the best shot in the district, and everybody knew that he had killed seven panthers and a number of wild boars. He asked me for some bullets, and also invited me to join them; but as this did not seem quite agreeable to the owner of the cow, I declined, and let the two men start alone. Still I induced Abdallah to take one of my double-barrels, in the event of their two shots proving insufficient. They went off at three P.M., and night was setting in when Abdallah returned. His face and arms were lacerated by the thorns, and his shirt hung in rags about him. It could be read in his face that the ambush had met with no result; and though we were so curious, we were obliged to wait till he had washed and arranged his dress. At length he came out of his gourbi, seated himself on a rock, round which we squatted, and began as follows:

"We found the cow lying in the wood, not far from the clearing of the Schebts-el-zen. The hind leg had been devoured, and the body remained as my comrade had found it in the morning. A few paces off was a handsome oak, in which a comfortable seda had been formed. The only fault to be found with it, was its excessive height from the ground. We clambered up and lay cozily on the soft fern, with which my comrade had lined our seat. We held our guns between our feet, and I hung this double-barrel on a bough, so as to have it ready in case of need. During all this time we only conversed by signs, and did not stir, while looking intently at the cow's carcase. We had not been sitting there more than half an hour when two zerdas (ichneumons) bounded out of the bushes and set to work on the cow. In spite of their voracity they were constantly on the watch, and every minute leaped back into the bushes, whence they cautiously emerged again. At length they stopped and listened attentively, after which they suddenly disappeared, and did not