t eight distinct kinds I know of; and I do not
hesitate to say that when the central parts of Africa have been fully
explored, as well as South Asia and the Asiatic islands, nearly half as
many more will be found to exist.

In South Africa four distinct species are well-known; one in North
Africa differs from all these; while the large Indian rhinoceros bears
but slight resemblance to any of them. A distinct species from any is
the rhinoceros of Sumatra, an inhabitant of that island; and still
another is the Java rhinoceros, found in the island of Java. Thus we
have no less than eight kinds, all specifically differing from one
another.

The best known in museums, zoological collections, and pictures, is
perhaps the Indian animal. It is the one marked by the singular
foldings of its skin, thickly embellished with protuberances or knobs,
that give it a shield-like appearance. This distinguishes it from the
African species, all of which are without these knobs, though the hides
of some are knotty or warty. The Abyssinian rhinoceros has also
foldings of the skin, which approach it somewhat to the character of the
Indian species. Both the Sumatra and Java kinds are small compared with
their huge cousin, the Indian rhinoceros, which inhabits only
continental India, Siam, and Cochin China.

The Javan species more resembles the Indian, in having scutellae over
the skin and being one-horned. It is, however, without the singular
folds which characterise the latter. That of Sumatra has neither folds
nor scutellae. Its skin has a slight covering of hair, and a pair of
horns gives it some resemblance to the two-horned species of Africa.

The natives of South Africa are acquainted with four distinct species of
rhinoceros, to which they give distinct names; and it may be remarked
that this observation of species by native hunters is far more to be
depended upon than the speculations of mere closet-naturalists, who draw
their deductions from a tubercle, or the tooth, or a stuffed skin. If
there be any value in a knowledge of animated nature, it is not to these
we are indebted for that knowledge, but far oftener to the "rude
hunters," whom they affect to despise, and who, after all, have taught
us pretty much all we know of the habits of animals. Such a "rude
hunter" as Gordon Cumming, for example, has done more to increase the
knowledge of African zoology than a whole college full of "speculating"
_savans_.

This same