out of sight with their dragging, shuffling gait. I
cannot say that they disturbed the stillness of the night, because a
tropical night never is still; but their cry used suddenly to come upon
our ears, and I know not why, always seemed to be close to us. The roar
of a leopard or lion is most grand, however terrific; but what is
called the laugh of the hyaena, is just like the triumphant exultation
of a fierce madman, when he reaches his long-sought victim.

All the natives of the Gold Coast bear witness to the powers of mimicry
evinced by the hyaena; they say that he hides himself in the jungle, and
imitates the cries of other beasts till he allures them to his side,
when he falls upon and devours them. A gentleman, who long commanded a
fortress on the Gold Coast, told me the following story, which confirms
the above assertion:--"Some women from the neighbouring village were
accustomed to pass the walls of the fort to fetch water after sunset, at
the dinner hour of this officer, and made so much noise, that they
disturbed him, so he ordered them to take another path. The next evening
the noise recurred, and the same order was repeated the next morning; on
which the women protested they had gone quite another way. On the third
evening, when the laughing and talking were apparently recommencing, a
sergeant sallied forth to bring the delinquents into the fort; but to
his surprise there were only three hyaenas to be seen, whose imitation of
human sounds had deceived all those who had heard them on the preceding
occasions."

It was long supposed that the hyaena was incapable of attachment, but Mr.
Burchell brought one with him from South Africa to this country, which
evidently loved his master, and was jealous of other animals. Colonel
Sykes procured one in India who followed him about like a dog, played
with the sailors on board ship with the greatest good humour, and never
forgot his first owner. He was placed in the Zoological Gardens, where,
although Colonel Sykes paid him rare visits, he always recognized him
amidst the crowd. One day, when the hyaena was asleep, this gentleman
suddenly called him by his name; the poor beast as suddenly started on
to his legs, looked up, rubbed his head against the bars of his cage,
bounded about uttering short cries, looked sorrowfully at Colonel Sykes
when he went away, and repeated these manifestations of joy when he
returned.

The Spotted Hyaena has been called the Hyaena Capensi