“Ah, that I am quite willing to believe. By day the animal crouches in a corner and sleeps, but at night it is on the move, always hunting for slugs, fat beetles, and other insects. Consequently it may well be that its noisy hunt for prey as it goes poking its pointed snout into every hole and cranny frightens the rats and mice and drives them away, especially as the nocturnal prowler exhales a disagreeable odor calculated to betray its presence. Having neither the cat’s light paw nor that animal’s great patience in lying in wait for game, the hedgehog does not indulge in hunting rats; but if by good luck one falls into its clutches, it is accepted with delight, for the hedgehog’s great feast is blood, freshly killed flesh. When I wish to give my two hedgehogs a special treat I throw them a bleeding beef liver or a chicken’s entrails. Anything of that sort is eagerly devoured. Tastes so undisguisedly carnivorous tell you what must happen to a mouse caught by one of these animals. I attribute to them the disappearance of some nests of rats that used to trouble me. “To satisfy its devouring hunger the hedgehog appears to attack all sorts of prey alike, even planting its teeth in a viper without any thought of the reptile’s venom; and in still other respects the animal enjoys a remarkable immunity. You have seen the Spanish fly, that magnificent, strong-smelling insect that lives on ash-trees and is distinguished by sheath wings of a superb golden green.” “Yes, I remember it,” said Jules. “It is used for raising blisters after being dried and ground to powder.” “That is correct. If, then, this powder eats into the skin so readily, what effect ought it to have on the delicate lining of the stomach if introduced into that organ? What animal could swallow it without suffering torture and speedy death? Well, by an exception that I cannot undertake to explain the hedgehog can feed on this horrible poison without the slightest apparent injury. A celebrated Russian naturalist, Pallas, has seen it make a meal on Spanish flies with no ill results. For a repast of that sort a stomach peculiarly constructed is certainly necessary. “Once upon a time there was a king, very well known in history, named Mithridates. Being aware that he was surrounded by enemies capable of poisoning him some day, in order to obviate the danger he gradually accustomed himself to the most noxious drugs. By increasing the dose little by little he finally rendered himself immune against poison. The hedgehog is the Mithridates of the animal kingdom; but how far it surpasses the suspicious king! Without practice it dares swallow the poison of the Spanish fly and the viper’s deadly venom.