CHAPTER IX. HOW WE FOUND A FEAST. I remained in the Zoological Gardens for a few weeks, improving my acquaintance with the mild Zibethicus and the gentle Lemmings. As for the German Hamster, he became so drowsy as the weather grew colder, that it became evident that he could sleep day and night upon boards, though he never fell into the perfectly torpid, almost dead state that he would have done, could he have been humoured by being buried alive. I should willingly have remained longer in the gardens, but the keepers were taking such stringent measures to get rid of rats, that we thought it better to remove on our own four feet while we could, instead of being carried in a bag, a kind of conveyance for which we had no fancy. We therefore set out on our journey homewards. We again chose the underland route, lest we should meet with dogs and cats in the streets, or be crushed beneath rolling wheels. We had not gone far, however, when Whiskerandos suddenly stopped. "I feel hungry," said he. "So do I," rejoined I. "We must find our way into one of the houses," observed the bold rat; "let's turn down this passage, it doubtless leads to some kitchen." Down the passage we accordingly turned, Whiskerandos, as usual, going first; but we were met, almost at the entrance, by two savage brown rats, who did not seem disposed to allow us to pass. "Pray, does this passage lead to a kitchen?" said Whiskerandos, not appearing to notice their sharp teeth and gleaming eyes. "Yes," replied one; "but the passage, and the house, and the kitchen, belong to us, and we let no one share in our rights." "Any one who attempts to pass," cried the other, very fiercely, "has to pay us toll with his ears!" "Well, my good friends," replied Whiskerandos, "notwithstanding the darkness I have no doubt but that your bright eyes have observed that I have paid that toll already, and that is a kind of toll which no one is expected to pay twice." The brown rats looked at the warrior with keen, wondering gaze, while Whiskerandos calmly continued, "I lost my ears in single combat with a ferret; he who exacted the toll lost his life in exchange, and I feel somehow persuaded that you will rather politely guide me into your house and share with me whatever I get there, than try the experiment whether a rat can fight as well without ears as he once did with them." This little speech had a most wonderful effect in subduing all unfriendly and inhospitable feelings on the part of the brown rats towards the valiant Whiskerandos. They, however, looked very suspiciously at me, and I fancied that I heard one whisper to the other, "There's a black rat-- an intruder-- an enemy-- we must tear him in pieces!"