the night, and that unfortunately the calf was dying.  It died in the course of the day.  The Lama forthwith skinned the poor beast, and stuffed it with hay.  This proceeding surprised us at first, for the Lama had by no means the air of a man likely to give himself the luxury of a cabinet of natural history.  When the operation was completed, we observed that the hay-calf had neither feet nor head; whereupon it occurred to us that, after all, it was perhaps a pillow that the Lama contemplated.  We were in error; but the error was not dissipated till the next morning, when our herdsman went to milk his cow.  Seeing him issue forth—­the pail in one hand, the hay-calf under the other arm—­the fancy occurred to us to follow him.  His first proceeding was to put the hay-calf down before the cow.  He then turned to milk the cow herself.  The mamma at first opened enormous eyes at her beloved infant; by degrees she stooped her head towards it, then smelt at it, sneezed three or four times, and at last proceeded to lick it with the most delightful tenderness.  This spectacle grated against our sensibilities:  it seemed to us that he who first invented this parody upon one of the most touching incidents in nature must have been a man without a heart.  A somewhat burlesque circumstance occurred one day, to modify the indignation with which this treachery inspired us.  By dint of caressing and licking her little calf, the tender parent one fine morning unripped it:  the hay issued from within; and the cow, manifesting not the slightest surprise nor agitation, proceeded tranquilly to devour the unexpected provender.”

The Highlanders used this contrivance, and called it a “Tulchan”:  hence King James’s bishops were nicknamed “Tulchan bishops,” to imply that they were officials of straw, merely set up as a means of milking the Scotch people of their money, in the form of church-dues.

Camels.—­Camels are only fit for a few countries, and require practised attendants; thorns and rocks lame them, hills sadly impede them, and a wet slippery soil entirely stops them.

Elephants.—­They are expensive and delicate, but excellent beasts of burden, in rainy tropical countries.  The traveller should make friends with the one he regularly rides, by giving it a piece of sugar-cane or banana before mounting.  A sore back is a certain obstacle to a continuance of travel; there is no remedy for it but rest.  The average burden, furniture included, but excluding the driver, is 500 lbs., and the full average day’s journey 15 miles.

Dogs.—­Dogs will draw a “travail” (which see) of 60 lbs. for 15 miles a day, over hard, level country, for days together; frequently they will accomplish much more than that.  For Arctic travel, they are used in journeys after they are three years old; each dog requires eight or ten herrings per day, or an equivalent to them.  A sledge of 12 dogs carries 900 lbs.; it travels on smooth ice seven or eight miles an hour; and in 36 days, 22 sledges and 240 dogs travelled 800 miles—­1210 versts.  (Admiral Wrangel.) Dogs are used by the Patagonian fishermen to drive fish into their nets, and to prevent them from breaking through the nets when they are inside them. (See next paragraph for “Sheep-dogs.”)