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Animal Ghosts

Chapter 3 HORSES AND THE UNKNOWN

Word Count: 16175    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

ill preface this chapter on horses with

"tale is told by General Barter, c.b., of Careystown, Whitegate, Co. Cork. At the time he witnessed the spectral cavalcade he was living on the hills in India, and when

m both hands. A Syce led the pony on each side, but their faces I could not see, the one next to me having his back to me and the one farthest off being hidden by the pony's head. Each held the bridle close by the bit, the man next me with his right and the other with his left hand, and the hands were on the thighs of the rider, as if to steady him in his seat. As they approached, I knowing they could not get to any place other than my own, called out in Hindustani, 'Quon hai?' (Who is it?). There was no answer, and on they came until right in front of me, when I said, in English, 'Hullo, what the d--l do you want here?' Instantly the group came to a halt, the rider gathering the bridle reins

t where the group had been, but which was now vacant, there was not the trace of anything; it was impossible for them to go on, the road stopped at a precipice about twenty yards further on, and it was impossible to turn and go back in a second. All this flashed through my mind, and I then ran along

ted before his death. You know he led a very fast life, and while on the sick list he allowed the fringe to grow, in spite of all that we could say to him, and I believe he was buried with it.' I asked him where he got the pony I had seen, describing it minutely. 'Why,' sa

ng with a tattie in his hand. I asked him what he was there for. He said that there came a sound of riding down the hill, a

e to believe in the wonderful story of Herne the Hunter." I do not know about Herne the Hunter, but it is at all events good testimony that horses as well as men have spiri

s same work. It was sent him by one of the leading to

friend on a country road. Twilight was closing down on us, whe

do, J. Do you think I am a nervo

n the wild country I have lived and worked in, I kn

he was coming at a right angle to me. As I passed the head of the horse I called out "Good night." Hearing no reply, I turned in my saddle to the off-side, to see whether he appeared to be asleep as he rode, but to my surprise I saw neither man nor horse. So sure was I that I had seen such, that I wheeled old Fan round, and rode back to the middle of the cross, and on neither of the four roads could I see a man or horse, though there was light enough to see two hundred or three h

foot of this hill, I told the old farmer and his wife w

M--, on this road, and have you never

hat befor

-coloured clothes on a

I, "but I swear I

ard of what happened to the Miller

r a word,"

as dressed, as millers often do in this part of the country, in light-coloured clothes, and the horse was a grey horse. The murderers were never found. These are facts," continued the farmer. "I took this farm soon after it all happened, and, though I have known all t

ted it to me as we were riding along the same road. He continued to pass there

a letter in the Occult Review

nd Rider-Mrs. Gask

markable, and I give it exactly as it was

discussing, amongst other subjects, the possibility of the

was a hobby of his, and he would never have any others. One day a messenger came summoning me to Mr. L--, as he had just met with a very bad accident, and was on the point of death. I mounted my horse and started off without delay. As I was riding through t

t the horse-you would hear the shot-a

acked over a precipice, injuring Mr. L-- fatally, and on being t

in a weekly journal some years ago) w

Horse of

ined. He had always been rather partial to me, and the friendship between us continued after his retirement. I heard from him regularly at more or less prolonged in

wrote. "I am sure this place wi

Psychical Research work, and would go almost

n these circumstances, could be relied upon. I had grave suspicions that this "haunting" was but an invention for the purpose of getting me to Eastover. However, as it was just possible that I

ch had been muggy in London, grew colder and colder the further we advanced along

han sense, perhaps-to a fine point, cherished a deep-rooted aversion to innovations of any sort, and consequently abhorred

n a few rank sedges; upon a score or so of decayed trees; upon a house-huge, bare, grey and massive; upon bleak walls; upon vacant, eye-like windows; upon crude, scenic inhospitality, the very magnitude of which overpowered me. I have said it was cold; but there hung over the estate of Eastover an iciness that brought with it a quickening, a sickening of the heart, and a dreariness that, whilst being d

e of ghosts-did not affect me in the same degree. The fear it inspired was the ordinary fear inspired by the ordinary superphysical, but

ed any unusual sensations the moment I

een anything. The noises we hear all round the house have lately been more freque

was very tired, and the excessive cold had made me extremely sleepy; consequently, despite my heroic efforts, I gradually dozed off, and knew no more till it was broad daylight and the butler entered my room with a cup of tea. When

hingly whispered. "What a nicely ordered programme! I hear, too, we are to have a real old-fa

ly through a black bank of clouds, the yawning mouth of a big cavern, from the roof of which hung innumerable stalactites. I now suddenly realized that I was in a very lonely, isolated spot, and became immeasurably perturbed. The Unknown Something in the atmosphere which had inspired me with so much fear was here conglomerated-it was no longer the mere essence-it was the whole Thing. The whole Thing, but what was that Thing? A hideous fascination made me keep my gaze riveted on the gaping hole opposite me. At first I could make out nothing-nothing but jagged walls and roof, and empty darkness; then there suddenly appeared in the very innermost recesses of the cave a faint glow of crimson light which grew and grew, until with startling abruptness it resolved itself into two huge eyes, red and menacing. The sight was so unexpected, and, by reason of its

t, no sounds could have been more welcome to me than those old folk-songs piped by the rustics, for the instant they commenced the spell that so

e cave was generally deemed to be the most haunted spot in th

ers," he said, "and we have invariably experienced sensations of the utmo

window. For some time I fought against the impulse to get out of bed and look, but at last I yielded. It was bright moonlight-every obstacle in the grounds stood out with wonderful clearness-and directly beneath the window, peering up at me, were the eyes

ain, and there was much merry-making over the tansy cakes-very foolish, no doubt, but to me at least very delightful, and perhaps a wise practice, at times, even for the most

ouble. We spun along at a brisk trot-the last village separating us from the Hall was past, and we were on a high eminence, almost within sight of home, when

aimed. "Does she

road about this time," was the grim rejoi

rival. Gaunt, barren hills, wild, uncultivated levels, sombre valleys, inhabited only by gro

veted my attention, and as I gazed fixedly at it I saw, or fancied I saw,

t before the quarry was left behind and we were descending a long and gradual declivity. There was but little wind, but the cold was b

came a loud protracted neigh. I at once looked round, and saw standing on the crest of the eminence we had j

ds behind us. I was now able to get a vivid impression of the monstrous beast. Although the night was dark, a strong, lurid glow, which seemed to emanate from all over it, enabled me to see distinctly its broad, muscular breast; its panting, steaming flanks; its long, graceful legs with their hairy fetlocks and shoeless, shining hoofs; its power

, and we should be e

check of the bit between her teeth so as to render it utterly useless; and she had then started off at a speed I can only liken to f

which we were moving caused a hideous delusion-the ground appeared to be gliding from beneath us; and I experienced the sensation of resting on nothing. Despite our danger, however, from natural causes-a danger which, I knew, could not have been more acute-my fears were wholly of the superphysica

ed closed down on me, its nostrils hissed resistance out of me-I swe

ance, as the trap had come to grief in failing to clear the lodge gates, the horse had skinned its knees, and the Colonel had fractured his shoulder. Of the phantom horse not a glimpse had been seen. Even the Colonel,

at we have long suspected the ghost to be a horse, and have attributed its hauntings to the fact that, some time ago, when exploring in the cave, several

ady unearthed-and thus put a stop to the hauntings. If you go on excavating and keep the bones you find, the

tinuing his work of excavation he lost no time in restoring the bones he had kept

tual phantasm of the dead-of a dead horse-albeit that horse was prehistoric; and such ho

om Mr. Stead's Real Ghost Stories. It is written by

. Making straight for the camp, I had hardly entered a thick bush when I thought that I heard somebody behind me. Looking behind, I saw a man mounted on a white horse. You can imagine my surprise, for my horse was the only one in camp, and we were the only party in the country. Without considering I quickened my pace into a canter, and on doing so my follower appeared to do the same. At this I lost all confidence, and made a run for it, with my follower in hot pursuit, as it appeared to my im

he Englishman has se

took the trouble to make enquiries as to the antecedents of the white

ould go where he was told not to go; and one day he went into a bush (that very bush you rode through to-night), and he shot seven elephants, and the next day he went in to fetch the ivory, and about night his horse came into camp riderless, and was dead from the fly before the

nd in particular. And I took the opportunity of rolling myself up in

it, not having heard a word of the Englishman or his white horse before my headlong return to the camp that night. I shortly hop

entering the fatal bush, and managed to bag seven, photographs of whic

the phantom the Afrikander saw was

d me by a Chelsea artist who assured me it was absolutely

ds of

ere said about me, but I did not care-Heatherleigh Hall was mine, and I had as much right to it as anyone else. I came there all alone-my two brothers, Dick and Hal, the one a soldier and the other a sailor, were both away on foreign service, whilst Beryl, my one and only sister, was staying with her fiancé's family in Bath. Never shall I forget my first impressions. Depict the day-an October

cious pears, blenheim oranges, golden pippins, etc.-in rich profusion in the open, the whole encompassed by a high and solid brick wall, topped with a bed of mortar and broken glass. The house, which was built, or, rather, faced with split flints, and edged and buttressed with cut grey stone, had a majestic but gloomy appearance. Its front, lofty and handsome, was somewhat castellated in style, two semicircular bows, or half-moons, place

as blowing, seemed rising by a tornado to the clouds. Midway between the towers was a heavy stone porch, with a Gothic gateway, surmounted by a battlemented parapet, made g

kingly beautiful face-the features small and regular like those of a woman-the hair yellow and curly. It was the eyes that struck me most-they followed me everywhere I went with a persistency that was positively alarming. There was something in them I had never seen in canvas eyes before, something deeper and infinitely more intricate than could be

,' I said. 'Is there any

eyes fixed on the floor, 'but the lat

that?' I said, l

motion in the neighbourhood, the Government troops were hunting the place in search of rebels, and who should come galloping up the avenue with a couple of troopers in hot pursuit but Mr. Horace. The noise brought out Sir Algernon, and he was so infuriated to think that his son was the cause of the disturbance, a "disgraceful young cub," he called him, that despite Mr. Horace's entreaties for protection, he ran him through with his sw

. 'And how about the h

. 'Some will tell you it is, an

gory are you in

years the day after to-morrow, and that speaks for itself, don't it?'

e reception-rooms and domestic offices. In the right wing, besides bedrooms galore, was a lofty and spacious picture gallery; in the left-a chapel; for the Wimpoles were, formerly, Roman Cath

through them but cross-barred portions of the sky. One spot in particular appealed to my nerves-and that, a long, vaulted stone passage leading from a morning room to the foot of the back staircase. Here th

l, who added lustre to the surroundings, and in no small degree helped to dissipate the gloom. Indeed, had it not been for the picture in the hall, and for the twilight shadows and twilight footsteps in the stone passage, I should soon have ceased to think of ghosts. Ghosts, for

sought the coolness of the wood. Olga-my wife-did not accompany me, as she was suffering from a slight-thank God, it was only slight-sunstroke. It was close on midnight, and there was a dead stillness abroad that seemed as if it mus

h. I turn from it and shudder. Then my mind reverts to the elm-the elm on which Sir Algernon hanged himself. I remember it is not more than twenty yards from where I stand. I stare down at the soil, at the clumps of crested dog's-tail and stray blades of succulent darnel; I force my attention on a toadstool, whose soft and lowly head gleams sickly white in the moonbeams. I glance from it to a sleeping close-capped dandelion, from it to a thistle, from it again to a late bush vetch, and then, willy-nilly, to the accursed elm. My God! What a change. It wasn't like that when I passed it at noon. It was just an ordinary tree then, but now, now-and what is that-that sinister bundle-suspended from one of its curling branches? A cold sweat bursts out on me, my knees tremble, my hair begins to rise on end. Swinging round, I am about to rush away-blindly rush away-hither, thither, anywhere-anywhere out of sight of that tree and of all the hideous possibilities it promises to materialize for me. I have not taken five strides, however, before I am pulled sharply up by the sounds of horse's hoofs-of hoofs on the hard gravel, away in the distance. They speedily grow nearer. A horse is galloping, galloping towards me

ranch-the ghastly, groaning, creaking, croaking caricature of Sir Algernon. The horseman comes

can still hear him, still hear the mad patter of his horse's hoofs as they bear him onward

know. I believe it was with my eyes sh

alta. Intuition warned me to prepare for the worst. Its contents were unp

ke-I visited the wood. Horse's hoofs just the same as before. The same galloping, the same figure, the same eyes! the same mad, panic-stricke

awful, indescribable terror the figure always conveyed with it, came a feeling of intense rage and indignation. Should Beryl-Beryl whom I loved next best to my wife-be torn from me even as Dick and Hal had been? No! Ten thousand times no! Sooner than that I would risk anything. A sudden inspiration, coming maybe from the whispering leaves, or from the elm, or from the mysterious flickering moonbeams, flashed through me. Could I not intercept the figures, drive them back? By doing so something told me Beryl might be saved. A terrible struggle at once took pla

I received a letter f

at twelve o'clock, when the doctor bid us prepare for the end, the most extraordinary thing happened. Turning over in bed, she distinctly called out

Nor do I fancy he will appear again, for when I look into the eyes o

orse in my possession is that recorded by C.E. G--, a friend of my b

n a forest without a lantern, ten miles, at least, from home. Feeling too depressed to do anything, he sat down by the roadside, and seriously thought of remaining there till daybreak. A twinge of rheumatism, however, reminded him the ground was little warmer than ice, and made him realize that lying on it would be courting death. Consequently, he got up, and setting his lips grimly, struck out in the direction of Bishopstone. At every step he took the track grew darker. Shadows of trees and countless other things, for which he could see no counterpart, crept out and rendered it almost impossible for him to tell where to tread. A peculiar, indefinable dread also began to make itself felt, and the darkness seemed to him to assume an entirely new character. He plodded on, breaking into a jog-trot every now and then, and whistling by way of companionship. The stillness was sepulchral-he strained his ears, but could not even catch the sound of those tiny animals that are usually he

his mind to open the carriage door and jump out. Something, however, which he could not account for restrained him, and he maintained his seat. Outside, all was still profoundly dark. The trees

assing the conveyance-a small wagonette drawn by a pair of horses, the latter took fright; there were loud shouts and a great stampede, and my uncle, who leaned out of the coach window, caugh

and knew they must be nearing the Usk, a tributary o

h halted, and, to my uncle's surprise, he found himself in front of a house he had no recollection of seeing before. He got out, and to his

ter, and coach and horses immediately vanished. My uncle arrived home safely, but the shock of what he had experienced kept him in bed for some days. He learned that a phantom coach similar to the one he had ridden in had been seen in

tasms of a horse comes to me from a gent

t and when the weather is fair, is almost untraversable in winter. The night in question was Christmas Eve; the snow had fallen heavily during the day, and with the wind blowing in icy draughts from the north-east, there was every prospect of another downfall. Maitland pressed me t

stified in doing so, as I had a lot of correspondence to attend to, and I reali

doubt I could find my way. Maitland bartered for a candle lantern with his host, and armed

and, as it did so, I noticed for the first time indistinct images of gigantic, naked trees that becoming more and more numerous, and closer and closer together, at length united their long and grotesquely shaped branches overhead, and I found myself in the depths of a vast forest. The snow, which had up to the present held off, now recomme

ife at the bottom of a ravine. I chose the latter. Groping about with my feet, until I at length discovered what I thought must be the right track, I pushed ahead, and, staggering and stumbling forward, managed to make some sort of progress, terribly slow though it was. The blinding darkness of the snowy night, the intense silence and utter solitude of the

great joy, a light suddenly appeared ahead of me, and the next moment a man, mounted on a big white horse, rode noiselessly up to me. He was wra

track to Liffre. Can you tell me, or, better still, show me, the w

I could not; and the odd thing was, that without apparently increasing his pace, he always maintained his distance. After proceeding in this manner

rse was anywhere to be seen. Thinking this was rather queer, but quite ready to attribute it to natural causes, I approached the building, and, making use of my knuckles in lieu of a knocker, beat a loud tattoo on the woodwork. There was no response. Ag

sticity of her surroundings as to be quite extraordinary. This fact struck me at once, as did her fingers, which, though spatulate and ugly, had been manicured, and of course very much over-manicured, for effect. Had this not been the case, I probably should not have noticed them. But the unnatural gloss on them, exaggerated by the candlelight, made

ly come here, and the house is anyhow at present. Still, if you don't mind roughing it a little, we can let you have a bed, and you can rely upon me that it is clean and well-aired.

I thought I had never seen anyone quite so hideous, nor so utterly unlike the orthodox Frenchman. Obeying his injunction-for I can scarcely call it an in

pretending not to notice the subtle interchange of glances that constantly took place between the strangely assorted pair. Whether they were husband and wife, what the man did for a living, were questions that continually occurred to me, and I found my eyes incessantly wandering to the numerous packing-cases, piles of carpets, casks and other articles, which corroborated the woman's statement that they had but rece

eparing to leave my seat, when my host, walking to a cupboard, fetched out a bottle

y-so sleepy that it was only with supreme effort I could prevent my eyelids closing. Ah! I had it-a wedge! I had a knife. Of wood there was plenty-a piece off the washstand, table, or chair. Anything would suffice. I essayed to struggle to the chair, my limbs tottered, my eyelids closed. Then the shadow from the doorway moved towards and THROUGH me, and with the coldness of its passage I revived! With desperate energy I cut a couple of chunks off the washstand, and paring them down, eventually succeeded in slipping them in the crack of the door, and rendering it impossible to open from the outside. That done, I staggered to the bed, and falling, dressed as I was, on the counterpane, sank into a deep sleep. How long I slept I cannot say. I suddenly heard the loud neighing of a horse which seemed to come from just under my window, and, as in a vision, saw by my side in the bed a something which gradually developed into the figure of a man, the counterpart of the mysterious being in the shaggy coat w

, ungovernable fear, held me spellbound. The steps paused outside the door, the handle of which was gently turned. Then there was a suggestive silence, then whispering, then another turning of the handle, and then-my state of coma abrupt

d-safe and sound-on the snow. Blessed snow! Had it not been for the snow I should in all probability have hurt myself! I alighted not an instant too soon, for hardly had I touched the ground before my gigantic host came tearing round the angle of

hanging branch of a tree. With the first rays of sunlight, however, my troubles came to an end. The snow had ceased

ether with the remains of a horse, were found in various parts of the premises. The place was a veritable Golgotha. I suppose the phantom horse and rider had appeared to me with the sole purpose of making their fate known. If so, they at all events partly achieved their end, though the m

f Su

er of use to their owners, are butchered in the slaughter-house, and subsequently despatched to the Zoological Gardens, to be eaten by lions and tigers. So much for Christianity, and for man's gratitude. How much better would the promoters of the White Slave Traffic Act be employed, if,-instead of trying to pass a bill which obviously cannot cure the evil it aims at, but can only, by diverting the course o

s of Liv

that frequently appeared simultaneously in two places. She lived in an old country house near Winchfield, and one morning when she went into the breakfast-room, she was surprised to see the piebald horse standing on the gravel path

that they were often at a loss to tell which was which. The phenomenon sometimes occurring when the real horse was awake, and sometimes when it was asleep, proves that the a

e Psychic Fac

after dusk, my horse has suddenly come to an abrupt halt and shown unmistakable signs of terror. I have not been able to see anything to account for its conduct, but on subsequent enquiry have learn

from which I deduce the horse can at all events scent the proximity of the phantom of death. Like the dog, however, I think it only possesses this peculiar psy

ther hand, I have watched horses at night, standing in the fields, their heads thrown back, a transfixed, far-off expression in their eyes, sniffing the atmosphere-and snuffling it in a manner

perphysical animals, but between material animals, and if we ever wish to

om Co

have not their phantom coaches. Perhaps the most famous are those tha

h and Horses i

e More Welsh Ghosts," that appeared in the Oc

his gig from market was apt to cast a nervous glance over his shoulder as his pony slowly climbed the last pitch leading up to the Cross. For tradition says that every night a certain Lady Z. (who lived in the seventeenth century, and whose monument is in the church close

. Lewes goe

safely 'laid' many years ago in the waters of the lake not far off. He added, however that might be, it was an odd fact that his sedate and elder

ts and occultists may declare to the contrary-one can only theorize-and the speculations of

hat were killed on the highways, in others they are either Vice-Elementals, or Elementals whose particular function it is

Horse an

odically haunted by the phantom of a tall, fair policeman mounted on a white horse and clothed in the uniform of the 'forties-namely, tail coat, tight trousers, and tall hat. His 'phantom' beat exten

to avoid publicity, wishes to be designated Mr. Bates

ke him. I failed; for although he appeared to be riding slowly, hardly moving at all, I could not draw an inch nearer to him. This made me think, and I examined him more critically. Then I noticed several things about him, that, at first, had escaped my notice. They were these: (one) that although he was mounted he was wearing walking clothes-he had on long trousers and thick, clumsy boots; (two) that his ears and neck were perfectly colourless, of an unnatural and startling white; (three) that despite the incongruity of his attire, no one but myself seemed to see him. On he rode, neither looking to the left nor to the right, until he came to Sutton Street, when, without paying the slightest

ates, had, up to the time of her experience, posed as a pronounced and somewhat bitter sceptic. She was an emphati

liceman in the quaint attire of the 'forties-top hat, tail coat, tight trousers, just as I had so often seen portrayed in old books. He was riding stiffly, as if unaccustomed to the saddle, and kept looking rigidly in front of him. Thinking it was someone doing it either for a joke or a wager, I was greatly tickled, and kept saying to myself, 'Well, you are

some fun-the 1911 copper meeting the peeler

as gave the other a fleeting glance, but passed by unmove

I could not catch, and, dashing past me, fled. Then, and not till then, did I begin to feel funny. Further on still we came to a crossing. A carriage and pair with a coronet on the panels of the door was standing waiting. Directly the policeman a

human-something in all probability superphysical, and, i

ng haunted, the horse came to a dead halt, and horse and rider, veering slowly round, looked at me. What I saw I shall never forget. I saw the faces of the DEAD-the LONG SINCE dead. For some moments they confronted me, and then-vanished, vanished where they stood. I saw them again, under prec

ish H

lled "Some Glimpses of the Unseen," that appeared in t

the hunting kennels a few miles away, had escaped and had somehow got into the park, although he had seen that the gates were closed, and there was really no way by which they could have entered. The baying of hounds, as if in 'full cry,' sounded closer and closer, and suddenly, out of the shadow of some trees, a number of foxhounds, running at full speed, appeared in the clear light of the moon. They raced past the amazed spectators (a whole pack of them), followed closely by an elderly man on a large horse. Although they came very near, no sound could be heard but the baying of one or two of the hounds. The galloping of the horse was not heard at all. They swung across the grass at a tremendous pace, and were lost to view round

nt Mr. Span a

the South of Ireland (Doneraile Park); the man who told me the incident was coachman in the serv

faith

ald B.

hirley, editor of the Occult Review, published the

r Sh

hounds. However, there is a man at Doneraile called Jones, a chemist, who is a most enthusiastic antiquarian and a dabbler in the occult sciences, and he takes the

el afterwards; and there appear to be a lot of stories which Jones has ferreted out or been told. Of course,

s sin

erai

27,

of Doneraile House. Here follows the enclosure, i.e. the extract made by Walter A. Jones, Doneraile, from his MS. no

, for it was there that the noble stag was lost sight of, and of course it was there he was most searched for. It was only last autumn that two gentlemen were going to a fair, as I heard, and leading a very fine horse behind the trap. The night being fine and moonlight, they stopped at the iron gate there to light their pipes, when a gentleman dressed in old style, with buckskin leggings, walked through the iron ga

ck horse along Lord Doneraile's route in the middle of the day, and his sister who was

s and horses going past me. Paddy Shea, late herd to Lord Doneraile, also would swear he saw the phantom Lord Doneraile pu

orge Buckley, present keeper of the Doneraile Park, got a grea

y the huntsman, horse and hounds were

Dar

ts of the notorious "Wild Will Darrell" and the horse

n their phantom horses, over the German and Norwegian forests and moor-lands that ech

ans that, starting from the far distance, have gradually come nearer and nearer. Then they have heard the winding o

"Hackelnbarend,"-the story being that Hakelnberg, a German knight, who had devoted his whole life to the chase, on his death-bed had told the o

Hakelnberg, his horse and hounds, ar

he states and departments of the New World. This being so, I think there must be a substantial substratum of truth underlying the beliefs, ph

f the River Duero, still haunts his burial-place, a piece of marshy ground, near Burgos. There, weird noises, such as the winding of a huntsman's h

e celebrated hero of olden days. Near Fontainebleau, Hugh Capet is stated to ride a gigantic sable horse to the palace, where he hunted before the assassination of Henry IV; and in the Landes the rider is thought to be Judas Iscariot. In other parts of France the wild huntsman is known as Harlequin

any, I myself am fully satisfied that these noble and indispensable animals do not terminate their

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