CHAPTER XXXVI
THE OSHINGI, OR CIVET
An oshingi with its beautiful, spotted, leopard-like skin, and pretty, long-ringed tail, was cosily sleeping one day in the deep and dark hollow of a tree. When the day had passed away, and night had come, he grew restless in his sleep; for the oshingi belongs to the night prowlers. At last he opened his eyes, stretched himself, and yawned several times.
A great storm was raging; the rain was falling heavily, and claps of thunder followed in quick succession. It was a fearful night. As the oshingi listened, he said to himself, “What a nice home I have! not a drop of rain comes in, and the wind cannot penetrate.” Then, with a long sigh, he added, “But a comfortable home does not give me a meal; and a nice home, without food, is a poor one. I have been hungry these last few days, and have several times returned to my lair with an empty stomach, or had only a scanty meal. I have lived too long in this neighborhood, and destroyed so many lives that I have frightened away all the prey. I ought to have departed before this; but I am loath to give up this comfortable home, one of the best that I have ever had.”
No wonder the oshingi loved his lair. The hollow was very deep, cosey and soft at the bottom, and no animals would ever have thought that any one lived there, for the hollow was a few feet above the ground. Though his abode was pitch dark, his glittering eyes could see everything there, through the intense darkness, even the smallest grain of sand, just as if his place had been lighted by electric lights.
“It is too early yet to go out after prey,” resumed the oshingi, “for the birds are not yet in their heavy sleep. They awaken easily, and scent danger quickly. They are suspicious, for they fear us, and other night prowlers who feed upon them. I must wait a while though I am so hungry. He who is patient and waits, gets the prey.”
Reflecting thus, the oshingi coiled himself up and took another snooze; but now his heavy sleep was over, and he awoke now and then. At last about midnight he rose, saying to himself: “Half the night is over. Every day creature, animal and bird, is in its heaviest sleep, and will not scent me.”
With the help of his cat-like claws, he ascended his hollow, and when he came to the top put his head out, looked around, and listened. The storm was over, so he could hear well.
The oshingi is one of the most cautious and sly of the night prowlers. He is not of a very large size, with a body of about two feet long and a tail somewhat longer, and cannot fight big animals. His elongated head possesses most treacherous eyes. He sniffed the air, and thought there was no danger. So he came out, and descended the trunk of the tree backward, his claws firmly imbedded in the bark as a support to prevent him from tumbling down.
When he had reached the ground, he stopped, and thought a while. He wondered in what part of the forest it was most likely that game could be found. He sniffed the air, so as to go against it, in order that the animals or birds upon which he preyed could not scent him, for the oshingi have a strong odor.
Having discovered in which direction to go, he started out on his journey, saying: “I hope I shall find to-night some partridge or pheasant, or some of the fat green pigeons that perch on the lower trees. There are so many together that if I do I shall have a glorious feast. If I am unlucky then, I will go toward a river I know, and prowl along the shore, and seek for some wild duck resting or feeding on its banks, or for some other water bird.” He went noiselessly through the jungle, over the leaves and dead branches. Not one of his steps could be heard, for they were as light as those of the grasshopper, and did not make any more noise than a butterfly alighting on a flower or a leaf. This silent walking is the greatest gift possessed by the oshingis; no animal has a lighter step in the forest.
But, in spite of all his gifts, of light step, of keen scent, and of splendid eyesight, he saw no game that night, and returned to his lair with an empty stomach. It was four o’clock in the morning, about the usual time the night prowlers return to their homes. Before he went to sleep, he said: “I must change my quarters. I shall not come back here again to spend the day, for I shall surely die of starvation in this neighborhood. How hard I have to work for my living!”
[Illustration: [Civet]]
The following night, the oshingi left his home earlier than usual, for not only had he to change his abode, but also to find prey. After a long tramp, he scented a black pheasant, and his eyes glittered with joy at the prospect of a good meal. When he came near, he saw that the black pheasant was seated on her nest; and in an instant he pounced upon the poor bird, cut its jugular vein, and drank its blood, devouring the body afterward. Then he continued his journey. “Now,” he said, “I have had a meal, and can look out for a new home.”
Shortly afterward, looking carefully at the trees he passed by, he heard a noise of something coming toward him, and he hid under the root of a big tree. The noise was made by kambis that were travelling. After the kambis had passed, the oshingi came out of his hiding-place, and started again.
The night was far advanced, and he had to hurry to find a place to sleep in. At last he found one, though it was not very comfortable, not being dark enough in daytime. As he lay down to sleep, he twisted his long tail over his eyes to hide the dim light when the day should come. Just as he was dropping off to sleep, he heard the cry of partridges calling to each other, and said to himself, for the oshingi know by the different noises the birds make what species they belong to, “To-morrow night I will hunt up those partridges.”
The oshingi did not sleep well, for the place was not very dark, and he could not help remembering the cosey home he had abandoned. When it was night he left his hiding-place, and went after the partridges he had heard in the early morning; but they had gone far away, and he could not get his supper, and felt very disappointed. Giving up the chase of the partridges, he looked for a big old tree with a hollow, and ascended several in the hope of finding good lodgings, but saw none.
Continuing his search, he heard a slight noise. He stopped, and saw a porcupine near by. But he said: “No matter how hungry I am, I will not attack you, porcupine. I am afraid of your long and hard quills.” And both animals went their way.
Soon after the oshingi heard a great noise and ran up a tree to hide. A large herd of ngoas thereupon appeared, grunting terribly; for they had found many nuts on the ground, and their grunts were grunts of gladness. The chief of the herd scented the oshingi, and made for the tree in which he was hidden. But the oshingi waited for the boars to move on, and when they had done so, he came down the tree, crying: “What a fright those horrid ngoas gave me!”
That night the oshingi discovered a fine, deep hollow, and entering it, explored it with great prudence, saw that it was all right, and rejoiced greatly, saying to himself: “I hope prey will be plentiful round here, so that I can enjoy this nice new house of mine for some time.” Then he looked at everything so as to know the surroundings well.
From his new home the oshingi started every night after prey. At first he fed well, partridges, black pheasants, and other large birds being plentiful. He killed many and drank their blood. At last the survivors were terrified, and departed for another part of the forest.
Then once more the oshingi had a hard time to get his meals, and days of hunger and starvation came again. He at first thought of going back to the lair he had left, but reflected to himself: “It has not been long enough yet since my departure for the partridges, pheasants, and other birds to return to that neighborhood. I must seek new quarters.”
After two nights’ wandering, he reached the outskirts of a village of human beings, and, to his great joy, scented chickens. “I like to come to the habitations of human beings,” he chuckled, “for they always have chickens, and when I can get into a chicken-coop I am happy.”
But he also scented dogs, which caused him to add, “I must beware of the dogs, for they are my enemies. Oh, how I hate dogs!” He took great precautions as he walked in the direction of the village. When near, he heard human voices and the barking of dogs, which frightened him. Thereupon he ascended a tree, and, seeing a hole in which to hide and sleep, he said: “I am going to stay here. I have seen villages of human beings before, and when they all go to sleep my turn will come, and I shall have a great time in the chicken-coops.”
The following night the oshingi left his hiding-place to make his raid upon the chicken-coops. On his way, he said: “I must be very cautious, for now I am a thief, and must keep out of the way of the human beings and their dreadful dogs.”
When he approached the village, his searching eyes saw fires burning in the street, and he heard the human beings talk. Then he went back to the forest to wait, and after a while returned to spy. This time everybody was asleep; there was no more noise. The dogs had gone inside the houses, or were also asleep. It was so quiet that only the wind passing through the branches of the trees could be heard by the night prowlers.
The oshingi entered the village slyly, walking at first behind the houses, then in the street. He came to several chicken-coops; but there was no way of getting in, for they were very tightly made, the people having had their chickens killed by oshingis before. He walked several times around each, and noticed a dog asleep in the street. “I must keep out of the way of this ugly dog,” he said. “Happily they cannot see me when it is so dark; besides, they do not suspect my presence, and they cannot hear me walk.” He did not want to run any risks, and walked toward the end of the street. Suddenly he stopped, for he scented another chicken-coop. The scent was very strong, for the coop was full of chickens.
He approached it and walked round it. To his joy, he found a little opening through which he could push himself. As soon as he had entered, he saw quantities of chickens perched on sticks, and his eyes glared like fire with hungry anticipation. In an instant the chickens were aware of the presence of one of their most inveterate enemies, and, much frightened, flew from one place to another, cackling very loud.
The oshingi first caught the big rooster by the neck, cut its jugular vein and drank its blood, then did likewise with the other chickens, and did not go until they were all dead. He had hardly time to get through the hole, when the men, hearing the noise made by the chickens, rose and called their dogs. These dogs knew at once what they were wanted for, and hunted all round. The oshingi had just time to escape with his life.
The people of the village were very angry when they saw the havoc the oshingi had wrought, and said, “Let us make traps to catch him.” The following day, they set traps outside the village, and put chickens in each of them. But the oshingi did not come back. He knew too much.
The oshingis are very cunning, and it is very seldom that they return to a village where they have committed depredations. They wait a long while before coming again.
One night the oshingi came to a river bank and spied on the water a flock of ducks in the midst of the thick darkness. His eyes followed the ducks swimming up and down the stream as the fancy took them. They were very shy, and once in a while through the deep silence of the forest they uttered subdued quacks, which were warnings to those of the flock who were approaching too near the shore not to go nearer. Their leader constantly uttered the note of warning which meant, “Keep in the middle of the stream.” He feared danger, for two or three weeks before, one night while feeding quietly on the grass growing on the low bank of the river, an oshingi had suddenly seized one of the ducks, and the flock flew away in great fright. The ducks had not forgotten this event and had been timid ever since.
[Illustration: [Civet]]
The oshingi, tired of waiting, became impatient, and said to himself: “When are those ducks coming ashore? I am hungry, and I want a meal. Surely they will land soon.” He did not know that the ducks had such good memories. But at last several of the ducks came dangerously near the shore. When the oshingi saw this, he left his hiding-place, and crawled toward the water through the shrubbery, his belly touching the ground. He was very cautious in all his movements. The subdued quacking of the ducks increased his ferocity and appetite.
At last, to the great joy of the oshingi, some of the ducks came within a few feet of the shore. When he saw this, he said: “Surely I am soon to have a meal.” But he was again disappointed, for suddenly they veered round and swam back toward the middle of the stream. Their leader had given a peculiar quack which called them back; and, when they approached, he scolded them for being so imprudent, saying also: “Do you not remember the ferocious oshingi that pounced upon us some time ago? Do you wish the same fate as our comrade?”
“No, no,” loudly quacked all the ducks.
While the leader of the flock was talking, the oshingi was full of rage, and said: “Oh, how I hate the water! If it were not for the water, I should have had a meal of a duck by this time; but I did not dare to jump, for if I had I should have had to swim to the shore to save my life instead of catching ducks.”
The oshingi spent the whole night watching the ducks, and at last, as daylight was soon coming, he went back to his lair, saying, as he walked away: “Those wretched ducks were too knowing for me; but one of these days I will be more cunning than they are.”
The time came when the ducks build their nests, but these were on small islands where they knew the oshingis and other night prowlers could not reach them.