t one wild kind. Those which are now so often
seen in the forest, and which do so much mischief about houses and
enclosures, are almost all greyish, some being striped, and they are
also much longer in the body than the tame. A few are jet black; their
skins are then preferred by hunters.

Though the forest cat retires from the sight of man as much as possible,
yet it is extremely fierce in defence of its young, and instances have
been known where travellers in the woods have been attacked upon
unwittingly approaching their dens. Dropping from the boughs of a tree
upon the shoulders, the creature flies at the face, inflicting deep
scratches and bites, exceedingly painful, and sometimes dangerous, from
the tendency to fester. But such cases are rare, and the reason the
forest cat is so detested is because it preys upon fowls and poultry,
mounting with ease the trees or places where they roost.

Almost worse than the mice were the rats, which came out of the old
cities in such vast numbers that the people who survived and saw them
are related to have fled in fear. This terror, however, did not last so
long as the evil of the mice, for the rats, probably not finding
sufficient food when together, scattered abroad, and were destroyed
singly by the cats and dogs, who slew them by thousands, far more than
they could afterwards eat, so that the carcases were left to decay. It
is said that, overcome with hunger, these armies of rats in some cases
fell upon each other, and fed on their own kindred. They are still
numerous, but do not appear to do the same amount of damage as is
occasionally caused by the mice, when the latter invade the cultivated
lands.

The dogs, of course, like the cats, were forced by starvation into the
fields, where they perished in incredible numbers. Of many species of
dogs which are stated to have been plentiful among the ancients, we have
now nothing but the name. The poodle is extinct, the Maltese terrier,
the Pomeranian, the Italian greyhound, and, it is believed, great
numbers of crosses and mongrels have utterly disappeared. There was none
to feed them, and they could not find food for themselves, nor could
they stand the rigour of the winter when exposed to the frost in the
open air.

Some kinds, more hardy and fitted by nature for the chase, became wild,
and their descendants are now found in the woods. Of these, there are
three sorts which keep apart from each other, and are thought not to