The animals in the tFkraine are the same as those found throughout Poland, with few exceptions. The rossomach, which is occasionally seen in the Steppes, is a mixture between a wild cat and a wolf J it is to be found also in the forest of Bialovieza, but it is extremely rare. The pelican, the jet-black hare, and a kind of red teal, much smaller than the common teal, are met with. There is a kind of scorpion very dangerous, and a peculiar viper called vrzetsionitsa {wrzecionica), short, thick in the middle, small at the ends, whose bite is almost certain death; it is to be found in dry situa* tions, and is of a slightly reddish colour; it is by no means common. An ordinary viper (commonly called adder) can be easily distinguished from a harmless serpent (whose colours vary according to the species, the age, and the season) by two characteristics never to be mistaken, namely, by dark spots inig-2ag on its back, and its brown belly; it is also considerably thicker and shorter than the common serpents, and likes more elevated ground, while the latter has always a belly of variegated colours, a yellow ring close to its head, and is to be found in more moist places: the female and young vipers are of a reddish colour. Sometimes a viper hangs on a low bush; generally speaking, open copses, dry heaths, newly-covered woodlands, sandy wastes, and southern banks of rivers, are the haunts of the viper. Poisonous bites are more dangerous in summer than in the autumn, and can be cured by-rubbing the fat of the viper or olive oil on the part wounded, over a chafing-dish of coals, and taking the oil internally. It is also necessary to purge the body, and to apply the remedy without delay. Much depends on the state of the blood. A bite in a blood-vessel is always very dangerous: the female viper is the more poisonous of the two. There is a large kind of spider which digs a round hole in the earth, and carries its young on its back; it is a sort of tarantula, and is dangerous. The children put some water in their holes, and thus oblige the spider to come out, and often kill it. There was, and there is still, probably, a wild goat, called sumah, whose horns are transparent and as white as snow; they are to be found in the higher range of the southern Steppes. According to Samicki, boa constrictors were occasionally to be met with in the south-eastern part of the Ukraine. The ptarmigan is very common, and the buzzard the largest bird after the turkey: the latter is extremely shy, of a greyish colour, have long feet, and must rim at least thirty yards before it can rise. They are often caught by greyhounds.
The music of the Ukraine is strikingly peculiar. Those wondrous melodies, called dumki are characterised by their touching harmony; they are at once Ossianic, oriental, plaintive, and martial. They abound in the loftiest sentiments, and are interwreathed with eastern imagery. Now the fiercest emotion, the wild tornado of the soul, rushes through them; now the dark eyes of some love-lorn maiden are the theme of their enthralling strains. They always terminate with some sad catastrophe, and happy love finds no refuge in their touching stanzas. The popular ditties of the Ukraine form a pleasing and enrapturing minstrelsy. Very many of them are not set to music. In others, the tide of song rolls gently on. At times, the harmonious lay rises, through a climax of exaltation, from the softness of the breeze, to the dirge-like wailings of the blast, and the roar of the hurricane; and bloodshed, revenge, and conflagration glide through the flowing cadence; the neighings of the steed, the howling of the wolves, the whizzing of arrows, the pattering of musketry, the clash of arms, the ill-boding cries of the vulture, or the croakings of the raven, the shouts of victory, the groans of the dying, despair, rage, and laughter, gush forth in their imitative harmony. The songs of the Ukraine are its history. Its wars, its triumphs, its defeats, its sorrows, are imaged forth and chronicled as it were in these sublime and spirit-stirring rhapsodies. One might say, as is said of Ariel's music in the immortal Shakspere, ** This is no mortal business, nor no sound that the earth owes."