Determined not to allow the poor monkey thus to linger in torture, and at once to end the annoying scene, I suddenly came to a halt, and lowering my gun which was only single-barrelled, I was about to re-load it for the purpose of despatching the maimed creature, when, springing from the tree, it ran up to within about half a dozen paces of me, and began to cry so piteously, and roll itself in agony, occasionally picking up earth, with which it attempted to stanch the blood by stuffing it into the wound, that, in spite of my resolution, when I fired, I was so nervous, I almost missed my aim, inflicting another wound, which broke the animal’s leg, but nothing more. Again its piercing shriek rang in my ears. Horrified beyond endurance, I threw down my gun, and actually fled. In about half an hour I returned, for the purpose of fetching my gun, fully expecting that the poor animal had left the spot. What, then, was my surprise to find a crowd of monkeys surrounding the wretched sufferer. As I advanced under the shade of some trees, I stole almost close to them before they perceived me. I took advantage of this circumstance to pause for a moment, and watch their movements. The stricken monkey was crying out in the most piteous manner; the others were busily employed in tearing open the wound, trying to destroy the already dreadfully maimed creature. A shout drove them all away, save the dying animal. I advanced; the little monkey was rolling in agony. I took up my gun, which lay beside him. I fancied he cast one look of supplication on me, one prayer to be relieved from his misery. I did not hesitate; with one blow of the butt-end I dashed out his brains. Then turning round, I slowly returned to my quarters, more profoundly dispirited than I had felt for many months. Take my advice, sensible reader--if you must live in India, never shoot a monkey. [Illustration] Frogs. Frogs, with their cousins, the toads, are what are called _amphibious_. We have heard a queer explanation of this word: a show-man, speaking of an alligator that he had on exhibition, said “that it was amphibious;” that is, said he, “it dies on the land, and can’t live in the water.” He only got it reversed: he should have said, that he lived equally well in the water and on the land. Frogs are the best of all four-footed swimmers; they never deign to walk or run; but they are great jumpers. The frog is rather more slender, and more lively than the toad. The latter is, indeed, a dull, stupid fellow, and often looks like a mere lump of dirt. Many people dislike toads, and some fancy that they are poisonous. But nothing is more innocent, or harmless.