Some time afterwards there was a slight engagement, and Moustache conducted himself very bravely. He here received his first wound--a bayonet thrust in the shoulder. It must be said here that Moustache was never wounded except in front. About this time he quarrelled with the grenadiers and deserted, because they had left him tied in the garrison. Taking refuge with a company of chasseurs, he saw a disguised Austrian spy enter the French camp. Moustache, forgetting the insult he had received, welcomed the stranger by springing at his throat with much fierceness. This action astonished all at first, but they had time for reflection, and then remembered the sagacity of the faithful dog. The stranger was arrested, searched, and found to be a spy. Moustache continued the series of his exploits. At the battle of Austerlitz, seeing the colour-bearer surrounded by enemies, he flew to his rescue, defended him as well as he could, and when the soldier fell, pierced with bullets, enveloped in his colours, Moustache, seizing with his teeth that part of the glorious flag which he could get, fairly flew past the enemy, and brought back to his company the blood-stained remnants. It must be said here that a charge of musketry had taken off one of his legs. This saving of the flag brought him merited honour. They took off the collar he wore, and Marshal Lannes ordered that they should put on him a red ribbon, with a copper medal, bearing this inscription on one side--"He lost a leg at the battle of Austerlitz, and saved the colours of his regiment." On the other side it read--"Moustache should be loved and honoured as a brave French dog." As it was easy to recognise him by his ribbon and medal, they decided that, in whatever regiment he should present himself, he should receive the portion of a soldier. He took part yet in several battles, and among others that of Essling (1809). He made with the dragoons two campaigns, and the brave dog fought every time he had the opportunity. He always walked in front on the alert, barking when he heard any noise, and could not find out the cause. In the Sierra Morena mountains, he brought back to camp the horse of a dragoon who had been killed. It is said that at several times he showed this same act of intelligence. He made his last campaign with the artillery, and was killed at the battle of Badajoz, on March 11th, 1811, at the age of twelve years. They buried him on the spot where he fell, with his medal and his ribbon. On the stone which served as his monument they wrote--"Here lies Moustache." These simple words are more eloquent than the most pompous epitaph. FLESH-EATING PLANTS. It is said that there are about a hundred kinds of flesh-eating plants all the world over, and of these, three--the sundew, butterwort, and bladderwort--grow in this country.