The Swiss Family Robinson; or, Adventures on a Desert Island. Johann David Wyss

      Fritz soon left us, but presently two shots were fired, and he appeared holding a fine tiger cat by the hind legs, which, with the intensest delight, he exhibited to each in turn.

      "Well done, Fritz!" cried I. "Our cocks and hens would have had an unfortunate night of it but for this lucky shot of yours. It is to be hoped he has left no companion near at hand. You must be on the lookout."

      "How curious it seems," remarked Ernest, "that God should create hurtful animals like this."

      "To our feeble and narrow vision many of the ways of the Infinite and Eternal Mind are incomprehensible," I replied. "What our limited reason cannot grasp, let us be content to acknowledge as the workings of Almighty power and wisdom, and thankfully trust in that 'Rock,' which, were it not higher than we, would afford no sense of security to the immortal soul. That animals should prey upon one another is a means of preserving a due balance in the world of nature, and in many ways these beasts of prey are also useful to man. What beautiful and warm furs are procured by hunters just in those countries where no other covering would defend the inhabitants from the wintry cold!—as, for instance, the skins of bears, wolverines, and arctic foxes, wild cats, and many others."

      "The skin of the seal, or sea dog, is also valuable," said Ernest.

      "It is," I replied, "and in its own element that creature preys on fish as the dog did on land animals before his race became domesticated by man. But now, Fritz, tell us how you obtained your prize."

      "Observing that something moved among the branches," said he, "I went softly around the tree with my gun, and making sure the creature was a wild cat, I fired and brought it down. It was severely wounded, but, rising in a fury, it attempted to climb the tree, when I, luckily having a loaded pistol, gave it a quietus. And do tell me, father, what sort of a cat it is."

      "It is a mercy the brute did not fly at your throat instead of attempting to escape," said I. "It belongs to a fierce and blood-thirsty race—that of the ocelots or tiger cats, natives of the tropical parts of America. I should say this was a margay, and it would have proved a cruel foe, not only of our poultry, but also of our sheep and goats. I am well pleased that you have rid us of it."

      "May I have the beautiful skin, father? And will you tell me what will be the best use to make of it?"

      "I advise you to skin the animal very carefully, and of the handsome black and yellow tail make a hunting-belt for yourself. The paws—let me see—why, I fancy the paws might be made into famous cases for knife, fork, and spoon, and look well hanging from the belt. The skin of the body you had better preserve until you find some suitable use for it."

      "Oh, father, what a splendid plan!" cried Jack; "do tell me some good use for my porcupine."

      "I think its feet may make cases also; at least, you may try. The quills, I am sure, may be used for packing needles, and for tipping arrows, and I should try to make defensive armor for the dogs out of the rest. They may fall in with foes more dangerous than any we have yet seen."

      "To be sure, father, the very thing!" shouted Jack in high glee. "I have seen pictures of boar hunts, in which the dogs were protected by a sort of leather coat of mail. That will be grand!"