THE IMITATION OF ANIMAL SOUNDS.

Otago Witness, Volume 02, Issue 2420, 2 August 1900, Page 63

THE IMITATION OF ANIMAL SOUNDS.

The art o£ decoying wild animals by imitation of their cries is a very primitive one, practised by savages in all countries as a means of procuring food. Many white men excel in '"calling," but, if inquiry could be carried far enough, it would probably be found that the most skilful owe their aptitude in this respect to the teachings of untutored savages, whose lives depend upon the exercise of this gift, A young lad in the wilds of Northern Manitoba was the most wonderful imitator of animals that I ever met in my life. My young friend had been instructed from Ms earliest youth \iy a Swampy Indian in the art, with the result that, at the early age of 15, he could call any tame or wild animal about the backwoods settlement where he lived. His father, he, and I used to drive together out into the prairie to some rushy lagoons in search of ducks and

geese, which abounded. The animals harnessed to the "buckboard" were mares, each

of which had a foal, and these foals used

as a rule ,to follow the buckboard, cantering along behind. Never shall I forget my astonishment one evening when, after having driven a few"* hundred yards from the Hudson Bay Post, his father suddenly stopped the mares, saying : " Rae, the foals have stopped behind, call them." In-

stantly the lad commenced whinnying exactly like a mare. He repeated the cryseveral times, ending up on each occasion with two or three little natural snorts. The imitation was so exact that not only were the foals deceived, and came galloping up to join us, but it was almo&t impossible to believe that it was not one of the mares that had called them.

One evening, when out shooting prairie

chicken, night fell ujDon us before we got | back to the waggon, to the wheels of which we had failed to attach the mares property. | One of them we found close by, the other had escaped, and, as it was a wet, misty night, not a sign of it was to be seen any- j where. Then it was that the lad's accomplishment proved most useful, for, while Mr father and I remained by the buckboard, the boy sallied forth into the misty dark- ! ness, making a sound to imitate the voice j of the foals. He was gone for half an hour, but returned in triumph with the missing mare. The way" that boy could imitate ducks and geese, too, was marvellous. Well do I remember a trick he played one evening in the reeds. He had joined me, unknown to his father, who was standing about £0 yards away in the "tall rushes, waiting for -the wild fowl which did not come. Crouching down by my side, so that he could watch" his parent, -the mischievous- youth- several times imitated the cry of wild geese ; at first only the sound - of geese at a distance ; then he made them seem nearer until apparently overhead. The old sportsman was instantly on -the alert, craning his neck and peering in all directions for the fowl. At last, frantic at being unable to see them, the old man shouted , out to me wildly: "Where are the geese? Where are they?" "Here, father!" answered the boy, rising from the reeds and bursting into a roar of laughter. It was lucky for him that there was, upon that occasion, a deep pool between him and his outraged parent, which enabled him to make tracks for home before the old boy could get round. I

It was once my lot to come across a native in quite another part of the world who possessed similar accomplishments. I cannot say that while he was with me he ! ever put them to any useful purpose, al- ' ithbugh he certainly afforded occasional variety and amusement during a trying journey. I was travelling through the Abyssinian province of Bogos with my Egyptian staff officer, an English servant, and a bodyguard of rapscallions, who called ithemselves Bashi Bazouks. They were a mixed lot — Abyssinians, Beni Amer Arabs, negroes, and all sorts ; and a merry, un- ( disciplined lot they were indeed. This man I was an Abyssinian, and he was the wag or ' buffoon of the crowd. The country I was ' passing through was full of wild beasts cf every kind. Apart from the troops of baboons daily- met with on the rocky passes, there were traces everywhere, of lions, hyenas, wolves, and jackals, and these animals, ' .which we- sometimes saw, used to make ' night hideous with their howlings. Our ; Abyssinian wag, however, was not content J with letting us be disturbed by the reat ■ howlings of the actual wild beasts, for he would have his little joke. On several oc- ! casions, when we least expected it, and I were marching along in some narrow jungle- ' clad ravine, the whole cavalade would be stopped by a terrible noise in the bushes, ' which frightened the horses and camels, and, at times, even the men. At one time it would be a dog barking furiously, at another a hyena howling or leopard snarling, and upon a third occasion a sound ; would be heard as of two jackals fighting over a carcase. But nothing could be seen. It was not until I had one day discharged both barrels of my rifle into the tliick bushes and nearly killed him that I learned the cause of these disturbances by my friend the- wag roaring out to 1 me not ' to shoot any more, and emerging from the bushes shouting with laughter. Having discovered this man's wonderful power of mimicking animals, I determined to engage him in a little joke of my own, merely as an act of retributive justice. Upon one occasion a lion had came roaring round my bivouac at night, when the conduct of mv Egyptian staff officer, who always talked very big about lions, had not been remarkably courageous. There was not a single man among my band of Bashi Bazoiiks who did not laugh at him, but his boasting was incorricrible. I therefore determined to give him a lesson one night when we were camping in the bed of the Khoi Ansaba, a famous place for lions. First, however, I . warned the Turkish sanjak of mv rascally I bodyguard to see well to ihe picketing of I the animals, for I did not wish to lose ' .a horse or camel as the result of a joke, i The sanjak, who hated the Egyptian, grinned from ear to ear and gave the neces- , eary order*. After supper, as we- were sit- I ting by the camp fire in the shade of an

overhanging bank, I led the conversation to the subject of Hons. The Egyptian officer was boasting, as usual, when suddenly my European servant, said; as if in alarm, while looking up into the thicket, "What's that sound, Mustapha ESendi? Don't you hear something crackling in there? I hops it's not another lion, for I am not so fond of them as you are." We all listened intently. The crackling was plainly heard — it was coming nearer ; it did sound uncommonly like a lion approaching. We made ready to rise, but Mustapha Effendi was already upon his feet, when, from the distance of only about three yards in the darkness, a terrific and deafening roar burst upon the startled night. So lion-like was the sound that, although expecting it, I was momentarily alarmed myself, and grasped my revolver ; for it seemsd impossible that any throat but that of a lion could possibly produce such a volume of sound. In the meantime", where was the gallant Mustapha Effendi? The sound of flying feet rattling over the gravelly bed' of the Khoi was all that was left of him now. So we sent "the lion" tc pursue him, which he did with roar after roar, the sound dying away into the dark recesses of the ravine, every soul in the camp meanwhile being convulsed with laughter. But now comes the point of my stury. This practical joke might easily have ended tragically for either the pursuer or the pursued, for suddenly, at no great distance up the Khor, we heard arT answering roar, and then another nearer at hand A real lion had taken up the challenge, and it was now our turn to be alarmed. Seizing brands from the fire, and firing off rifles as we went, a party of us rushed up the ravine after the two men, uDcn whom tlie reports of the rifles, the shouts, and. above all. the roaring of the real lion had had its effect, causing the flying staff officer to halt, and the pursuing sham lion to come back faster than he went. Fortunately, by the time we reached Door Mustapha, who was more dead than alive from fright, the hubbub wMch was -made by the relieving force had driven back the real lion the way he came. From that time forward the crestfallen Mustapha never mentioned the word _ lion, but the Abyssinian buffoon, whose wonderful mimicry had actually "called" the king of beasts, was a hero for the rest of the expedition. It must be owned that his was a most wonderful imitation of animal sounds, and rivalled any "loose calling; I over witnessed in NV»va R"ot''a. — Andbew Haggasd, in the Field. Field.