They nearly always perish. At present we will only discuss animals as a body, equal, or superior to man. The others, the smaller ones, offer a still more convincing generality.

All animals seem to be greatly exposed to the wrath of Jupiter; nevertheless, some species appear to be peculiarly sensitive to lightning--the gentle sheep, for example, which huddle together fraternally during a storm, and fall in a ma.s.s, struck by the fire of heaven.

I have before me a list of animals which have been struck. There are some of every kind. We might divide them thus--

Several hundred rams, sheep, and ewes.

73 horses, mares, and colts.

71 oxen, cows, or bulls.

9 dogs.

4 a.s.ses.

3 goats.

3 cats.

3 mules.

2 pigs.

1 hare.

1 squirrel.

A prodigious quant.i.ty of geese, chickens, pigeons, and small birds.

Fish also contribute a respectable contingent to lightning.

As a rule, large groups of animals are dangerous when there is thunder, as they seem to exercise a strong attractive influence to the electric fluid.

Often entire herds are destroyed by lightning. Dr. Boudin gives the following example:--

On May 11, 1865, at about 6.30 p.m., Hubert Wera, a shepherd who was surprised in the fields when a storm overtook him, was hurrying home with his flock. On coming to a narrow and difficult road, the sheep formed themselves into two groups. The shepherd took shelter behind a bush, when a terrible clap of thunder was heard. Lightning struck him and his flock. The unfortunate man was struck on the top of his head.

All his hair had been taken from the nape of his neck, and the electric fluid had traced a ridge on his forehead, his face, and breast. His body was quite naked; all his clothes were reduced to rags. Moreover, there was no trace of blood. The iron of his crook had been detached from the handle and thrown several yards away, and the handle itself was broken to pieces. A small metal crucifix and a scapular belonging to the unfortunate shepherd were found fifteen yards away.

Of the flock of 152 sheep, 126 were killed. They were covered with blood, and their wounds were as varied as they were peculiar. Some had their heads chopped, others had them pierced from side to side, others had their legs fractured. As to the dog, he was not to be found.

On May 13, 1803, near Fehrbellin (Prussian States), one clap of thunder killed a shepherd and 40 sheep.

On June 1, 1826, thunder killed 64 hairy beasts in a field at Gulpin (Limbourg).

At Prades, on July 28, 1890, 340 sheep were struck at one blow.

During a violent storm which burst over Montmaur in the Isere, lightning struck a flock of 90 sheep, and killed 53.

In the month of April, 1869, thunder burst over a sheepfold in which there were 80 sheep.

Fifty of these were found entirely carbonized, the thirty others were covered with sores, on the head, in the eyes, and on the back, and half asphyxiated by the fulminant fluid. The poor sheep were all cowering together.

On August 11, 1905, a flock of sheep were carbonized, and cattle of every kind were struck.

At Limoges, on July 4, 1884, 42 cows or oxen were struck by the spark.

They were all joined together by an iron chain.

On June 24, 1822, near Hayengen (Wurtemberg), a shepherd and 216 sheep out of 288, were struck in the open field.

Lastly, according to Abbadie, a storm in Ethiopia killed in one single stroke, 2000 goats and their shepherd. These figures are, I think, sufficiently eloquent, and if it were not for fear of fatiguing my readers, who might become bored, we could add a great many similar examples to this list. But it would be superfluous to expatiate further on the dangers incurred in a storm by large agglomerations of animals. In their terror, beasts, particularly sheep, press closely together, and are soaked by the rain. In this way they offer a large surface, which absolutely conducts the lightning. Also the column of vapour which rises from these living ma.s.ses, affords an excellent pa.s.sage for the fluid to pa.s.s through while crossing over the bodies of the poor beasts. It would be better to disperse the flock, rather than form a compact group of them, during a storm.

One sometimes wonders also what would be the effect of lightning on animals arranged in a file. Would it act the same with atmospheric electricity as with that in our laboratories? Would the influence of the electric matter be more dangerous in the extremities than in the middle?

When lightning meets a metallic bar, it does no harm except on entering and departing. On the other hand, when several people form a chain, holding hands, if the first touches the body of a Leyden electrical jar and the last touches the top, the whole circle will instantaneously receive a shock. Only those in the middle receive a less violent one than those who touch the jar. Well, the discharges from the clouds produce similar effects on men and animals.

Arago supports this by the following facts:--

At Flavigny (Cote-d"Or), five horses were in a stable when the lightning penetrated. The two first and the two last perished, the fifth, which was in the middle, was unhurt.

One day lightning fell on an open field on five horses in a line and killed the first and last; the three others were spared.

But we should require a much larger number of proofs before we could be sure of this.

In certain cases, lightning, always fantastic and extraordinary, seems to make a fastidious choice of its victims. It kills one, spares another, strikes a third, does good to a fourth--what a strange game!

how fantastic!

Madame la Comtesse Mycielska, of the Duchy of Posen, wrote to me recently--

"During a storm which took place in the month of August, 1901, lightning entered by a half-open door into a stable where there were twenty cows, and killed ten. Beginning with that which was nearest the door, the second was spared, the third killed, the fourth was uninjured, and so on. All the uneven numbers were killed, the others were not even burnt. The shepherd who was in the stable at the time of the shock, got up unhurt. The lightning did not burn the building, although the stable was full of straw."

We have given a similar case in the chapter on Fireb.a.l.l.s. _A propos_ of this, M. Elisee Duval, of Criquetot l"Esneval (Seine-Inferieure), relates a very remarkable case. On June 20, 1892, lightning fell on the telegraph poles of Havre and etretat. A dozen were thrown over, and the curious part is that every second one was knocked down.

Here is a more extraordinary case still. We were not aware that thunder could distinguish between colours, and that it has its preferences amongst them. Well, we need no longer be surprised at this. Here we have a case where the fluid declares itself distinctly in favour of black. It was at Lapleau in Correze. One day thunder fell on a grange full of hay and straw, and covered with thatch, without setting it on fire. Then it went to the sheepfold and killed seven black sheep, and left the white alone.

This choice is categorical, and people who fear lightning might follow this example by wearing long white garments in a storm. Unfortunately, lightning is so eccentric and uncertain, that we must not defy it; it is not to be trusted.

Who can explain why it sometimes glides into a stable full of cows without injuring one? This extraordinary thing happened in the Commune of Grignicourt (Marne).

After a great clap of thunder, all the cows that were in a shed became unfastened, without one of them being hurt.

There, again, the lightning only seemed to want to make itself useful.

If, in some cases, by a providential chance, cattle have been saved, it is none the less true that an animal very rarely survives a discharge which has caused the death of a human being.

But, as there is no rule without exceptions, we will give the following:--

The sky was dark and lowering, and a shepherd, seeing that there was about to be a storm, ran to his flock to drive it to the shed. Just at the same moment, lightning burst and knocked him down, together with thirty sheep. The beasts all got up soon, but the poor shepherd was dead.

On another occasion, on June 13, 1893, a shepherd was killed by lightning, and the remarkable thing was that only one sheep out of the hundred of the flock was struck.

On June 17, 1883, thunder entered a sheepfold, containing one hundred sheep. Only four perished. One of them was marked on the back with a cross, formed of two rectilinear grooves, penetrating to the skin; only the wool was removed.

Sometimes, but very rarely, men and animals survive the discharge.

Thus, Dr. Brillouet"s horse was thrown into a ditch, and remained there without moving for three-quarters of an hour, after which he was able to get up. Later on he became very feeble in the legs.

Very often the same stroke kills men and animals simultaneously. We have already given several cases of this kind. Here are some more--

A terrible storm burst at La Salvetat, on August 26, 1900. A shepherd and his flock, composed of twenty-three sheep, were all killed by lightning.