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yet the wind carried them so amazingly high, that they appeared like the feathers of small birds in the air. They were at least five miles above the earth. However, as soon as the storm subsided they all fell perpendicularly into their places, and took root again, except the largest tree. When that tree was in the air, it had a man and his wife upon its branches. They were gathering cucumbers. In this part of the globe that useful vegetable grows upon trees.

      As the tree descended, the weight of this couple over-balanced the trunk, and brought it down in a horizontal position. It fell upon the chief man of the island, and killed him on the spot.

      He was returning home through his own garden when this fortunate accident happened. But this tyrant was very avaricious, the natives of the island were half-starved. The goods were spoiling in his stores, while the poor wretches were pining in poverty. Though the destruction of this tyrant was accidental, the people chose the cucumber-gatherers for their governors

      The Crocodile and the Lion

      In about six weeks we arrived at Ceylon. We were received with friendship and true politeness.

      In a fortnight I accompanied one of the governor’s brothers upon a shooting party. He was a strong, athletic man.

      Near the banks of a lake, I heard a rustling noise behind. I turned about and I was almost petrified at the sight of a lion. It was evidently approaching and it wanted to satisfy his appetite with my poor body. What to do in this horrible dilemma? I had not even a moment for reflection. My gun was only charged with swan-shot. Though I did not intend to kill such an animal with that weak kind of ammunition, yet I hoped to frighten it, and perhaps to wound it also. But the shot enraged him, for he quickened his pace. I attempted to escape.

      I turned about and I found a large crocodile. His mouth was extended almost ready to devour me. I fell involuntarily to the ground with fear, and the lion sprang over me. I lay some time, I was expecting to feel his teeth or talons in some part of me. But I heard a violent but unusual noise. I raised my head and looked. To my unspeakable joy, I perceived the lion jumped forward into the crocodile’s mouth! And they were struggling to extricate themselves!

      I took my knife. With this instrument I severed the lion’s head, and the body fell at my feet! Then I rammed the head farther into the throat of the crocodile, and destroyed it. The crocodile could neither gorge nor eject it.

      Soon my companion arrived in search of me. After mutual congratulations, we measured the crocodile, which was forty feet in length.

      We related this extraordinary adventure to the governor. He sent a waggon and servants, who brought home the two carcases. The lion’s skin was properly preserved, after which it was made into tobacco-pouches[1]. I presented it, upon our return to Holland, to the burgomaster, who, in return, gave me a thousand ducats.

      The skin of the crocodile makes a capital article in the public museum at Amsterdam. The exhibitor relates the whole story to each spectator.

      The Baron and His Horse

      I went to Russia, in the midst of winter. I went on horseback, as the most convenient manner of traveling. I was lightly clothed, and I felt the inconvenience the more I advanced[2] north-east.

      What severe weather and climate! Suddenly I saw an old beggar; he was lying on the road, helpless, shivering. He had nothing to cover his nakedness. I pitied him. Though I felt the severity of the air myself, I threw my mantle over him, and immediately I heard a voice from the heavens:

      “You will be rewarded, my son, for this!”

      I went on. I saw no village. The country was covered with snow, and I was unacquainted with the road.

      I alighted, and fastened my horse to something like a pointed stump of a tree, which appeared above the snow. I placed my pistols under my arm, and slept on the snow. I slept so soundly that I did not open my eyes till full daylight. And I was astonished: I found myself[3] in the midst of a village. I was lying in a churchyard. I did not see my horse, but I heard it somewhere above me. I looked upwards and I beheld the horse hanging by its bridle to the cross of the church.

      Oh! The village was covered with snow overnight; then there was a sudden change of weather. I sank down to the churchyard whilst asleep, gently. But what was above the snow? It was not a pointed stump of a tree, to which I tied my horse: it was the cross of the church! And the horse could not go down. What to do?

      Without long consideration I took one of my pistols, shot the bridle in two[4], brought the horse, and proceeded on my journey.

      The Baron and the Wolf

      The horse carried me well. I was advancing into the interior parts of Russia. I took a single horse sledge, and drove briskly towards St. Petersburg. I remember that in the midst of a dreary forest I saw a terrible wolf. The wolf was making after me[5], with all the speed of ravenous winter hunger. It soon overtook me. There was no possibility of escape. Mechanically I laid myself down flat in the sledge, and my horse ran very quickly. And what happened immediately after? The wolf took a leap over me, and fell furiously on the horse. Then it began to tear and devour the hind-part of the poor animal. I lifted my head up, and with horror I saw that the wolf ate his way into the horse’s body. I took my advantage, and used my whip. This unexpected attack frightened the wolf so much, that he leaped forward with all his might. The horse’s body dropped on the ground, but in his place the wolf was in the harness. I was whipping it continually: we both arrived safe at St. Petersburg, to the astonishment of the spectators.

      Fifty Ducks Destroyed By One Shot

      It was some time before I could join the army, and for several months I was perfectly free. The recollection of my adventures gives me fresh spirits, and creates a warm wish for a repetition of them.

      One morning I saw, through the windows of my bedroom, that a large pond not far off was covered with wild ducks. In an instant I took my gun from the corner, ran downstairs and out of the house in such a hurry, that I imprudently struck my face against the door. Fire flew out of my eyes[6]; but I ran to the pond. Suddenly, I observed to my sorrow, that there was no flint in my gun. There was no time to lose.

      I remembered the effect the blow had on my eyes. Soon my fist was against one of my eyes. A strong blow drew sparks again; I used the sparks for my gun, the shot went off. I killed fifty ducks, twenty widgeons, and three couple of teals!

      The Baron and the Black Fox

      Presence of mind[7] is very important. In a noble forest in Russia I met a fine black fox. The fox stood close to a tree. In a twinkling I took out my ball[8], and placed a good spike-nail in its room[9], fired. I hit the fox so cleverly that I nailed its tail to the tree. I now went up to the fox, took out my whip, gave it a cross-cut over the face, and fairly flogged it out of his fine skin. So I took its skin, it was very beautiful!

      Amazing Hunting

      However, I had more amusing experiences. One day I was hunting all day long, and in the evening I came across a large lake in the middle of the forest. It was full of wild ducks.

      Unfortunately, I didn’t have any bullets left.

      I was expecting many friends that evening, and I wanted to treat them well. I am a hospitable and generous person, you know. My dinners and suppers were famous all over Petersburg. How could I get home without ducks?

      I remembered that there was a piece of fat[10] left in my bag. This fat will be a good bait. I took it out of my bag, tied it to a long string, and threw it into

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