Very kindly I said, "That is a mighty fine bear, as to temper; but now he is entirely too old to train, and you couldn't do anything with him. He would be a loss to you."
"I've looked him over, and I like his looks. I think I can train him all right. You let me have him, and I'll make a fine performer of him."
"I know that you never can do it; but you may try him, and send him back when you fail."
Thus ended the first lesson; and I was sure that in a month Mr.
Glass would beg me to take back the untrainable animal.
About one year later Glass appeared again, jubilant. At once he broke forth into eulogies of Christian; but one chapter would not be large enough to contain them. He had trained that bear, with outrageous ease and celerity, and hadimmediately taken him upon the stage as a professional jiu-jitsu wrestler. And really, the act was admirable. As a wrestler, the bear seemed almost as intelligent as the man. He knew the "left-hand half-nelson" as well as Glass, and he knew the following words, perfectly: "Right, left, half-nelson, strangle, head up, nose under arm, and hammer-lock."
[Illustration with caption: THE WRESTLING BEAR "CHRISTIAN" AND HIS
PARTNER]
Glass declared that this bear was more intelligent than any lion, or any other trained animal ever seen by him. He was wise in many ways besides wrestling,—in his friendship with Glass, with other bears, with other men, and with a dog. He obeyed all orders willingly, even permitting Glass to take his food away when he was eating; but he would not stand being punished with a whip or a stick! In response to that he would bite. However, he generously permitted himself to be held down and choked, as a punishment, after which he would be very repentant, and would insist upon getting into his partner's lap,—to show his good will.
Glass was enthusiastically certain that Christian could reason independently from cause to effect. He declared that his alertness of mind was so pronounced it was very rarely necessary to show him a second time how to do a given thing.
Training an Adult Savage Monkey. Once we had a number of Japanese red-faced monkeys, and one of the surplus adult males had a temper as red as his face. Mr. Wormwood, an exhibitor of performing monkeys, wished to buy that animal; but I declined to sell it, on the ground that it would be impossible to train it.
At that implied challenge the trainer perked up and insisted upon having that particular bad animal; so we yielded. He wished him for the special business of turning somersaults, because he had no tail to interfere with that performance.
Two months later Mr. Wormwood appeared again. "Yes," he said, but not boastfully, "I trained him; but I came mighty near to giving him up as a bad job. He was the hardest subject I ever tackled; but I conquered him at last, and now he is working all right."
A really great number of different kinds of animals have been trained for stage performances, running the scale all the way up from fleas to elephants. It is easy to recall mice, rats, rabbits, squirrels, parrots, macaws, cockatoos, crows, chickens, geese, cats, pigs, dogs, monkeys, baboons, apes, bears, seals, sea-lions, walruses, kangaroos, horses, hippopotami and elephants. It is a large subject, and its many details are full of interest. It is impossible to discuss here all these species and breeds.
In concluding these notes I leave off as I began,—with the statement that any student of animal psychology who for any reason whatever ignores or undervalues the intelligence of trained animals puts a handicap upon himself.
III. THE HIGHER PASSIONS
XVIII
THE MORALS OF WILD ANIMALS
The ethics and morals of men and animals are thoroughly comparative, and it is only by direct comparisons that they can be analyzed and classified. It is quite possible that there are quite a number of intelligent men and women who are not yet aware of the fact that wild animals have moral codes, and that on an average they live up to them better than men do to theirs.
It is a painful operation to expose the grinning skeletons in the closets of the human family, but in no other way is it possible to hold a mirror up to nature. With all our brightness and all our talents,—real and imitation,—few men ever stop to ask what our horses, dogs and cats think of our follies and our wickedness.
By the end of the year 1921 the annual total of human wickedness had reached staggering proportions. From August 1914 to November 1918 the moral standing of the human race reached the lowest depth it ever sounded since the days of the cave-dwellers. This we know to be true, because of the increase in man's capacity for wickedness, and its crop of results. After what we recently have seen in Europe and Asia, and on the high seas, let no man speak of a monster in human form as "a brute;" for so far as moral standing is concerned, some of the animals allegedly "below man" now are in a position to look down upon him.
It is a cold and horrid fact that today, all around us, and sometimes close at hand, men are committing a long list of revolting crimes such as even the most debased and cruel beasts of the field never commit. I refer to wanton wholesale murder, often with torture; assault with violence, robbery in a hundred cruel forms, and a dozen unmentionable crimes invented by degenerate man and widely practiced. If anyone feels that this indictment is too strong, I can cite a few titles that will be quite sufficient for my case.
Let us make a few comparisons between the human species (Homo sapiens) and the so-called "lower" wild animals; and let it be understood that the author testifies, in courtroom phrase, only "to the best of his information and belief."
Only two wild animal species known to me,—wolves and crocodiles, —devour their own kind; but many of the races of men have been cannibals, and some are so today.
Among free wild animals, the cruel abuse or murder of children by their parents, or by other adults of the tribe, is unknown; but in all the "civilized" races of men infanticide and child murder are frightfully common crimes. In 1921 a six-year-old Eskimo girl, whose father and mother had been murdered, was strangled by her relatives, because she had no visible means of support.
The murder of the aged and helpless among wild animals is almost unknown; but among both the savage and the civilized races of men it is quite common. Our old acquaintance, Shack-Nasty Jim, the Modoc Indian, tomahawked his own mother because she hindered his progress; but many persons in and around New York have done worse than that.
Civil war between the members of a wild animal species is a thing unknown in the annals of wild-animal history; but among men it is an every-day occurrence.
Among free animals it is against the moral and ethical codes of all species of vertebrates for the strong to bully and oppress the weak; but it is almost everywhere a common rule of action with about ten per cent of the human race.
The members of a wild animal species are in honor bound not to rob one another, but with 25 per cent of the men of all civilized races, robbery, and the desire to get something for nothing, are ruling passions. No wild animals thus far known and described practice sex crimes; but the less said of the races of men on this subject, the better for our feelings.
Among animals, save in the warfare of carnivorous animals for their daily food, there are no exterminatory wars between species, and even local wars over territory are of very rare occurrence. Among men, the territorial wars of tribes and nations are innumerable, they have been from the earliest historic times, and they are certain to continue as long as this earth is inhabited by man. The "end of war" between the grasping nations of this earth is an iridescent dream, because of the inextinguishable jealousy and meanness of nations; but it is well to reduce them to a minimum. Nations like Germany, Bulgaria, Turkey and Russia will never stand hitched for any long periods. Their peace-loving neighbors need to keep their weapons well oiled and polished, and indulge in no hallucinations of a millenium upon this wicked earth.
In the mating season, there is fighting in many wild animal species between the largest and finest male individuals for the honor of overlordship in increasing and diffusing the species. These encounters are most noticeable in the various species of the deer family, because the fatal interlocking of antlers occasionally causes the death of both contestants. We have in our National Collection of Heads and Horns sets of interlocked antlers of moose, caribou, mule deer and white-tailed deer.
Otherwise than from the accidental interlocking of antlers,—due to the fact that an animal can push forward with far greater force than it can pull back,—I have never seen, heard or read of a wild animal having been killed outright in a fight over the possession of females. Fur seal and Stellar sea-lion bulls, and big male orang-utans, frequently are found badly scarified by wounds received in fighting during the breeding season, but of actual deaths we have not heard.
The first law of the jungle is: "Live, and let live."
Leaving out of account the carnivorous animals who must kill or die, all the wild vertebrate species of the earth have learned the logic that peace promotes happiness, prosperity and long life. This fundamentally useful knowledge governs not only the wild animal individual, but also the tribe, the species, and contiguous species.
Do the brown bears and grizzlies of Alaska wage war upon each other, species against species? By no means. It seems reasonably certain that those species occasionally intermarry. Do the big sea-lions and the walruses seek to drive away or exterminate the neighboring fur seals or the helpless hair seals? Such warfare is absolutely unknown. Do the moose and caribou of Alaska and Yukon Territory attack the mountain sheep and goats? Never. Does the Indian elephant attack the gaur, the sambar, the axis deer or the muntjac? The idea is preposterous. Does any species of giraffe, zebra, antelope or buffalo attack any other species on the same crowded plains of British East Africa? If so, we have yet to learn of it.
If the races and nations of men were as peace-loving, honest and sensible in avoiding wars as all the wild animal species are, then would we indeed have a social heaven upon earth.
Now, tell me, ye winged winds that blow from the four corners of the earth and over the seven seas, whence came the Philosophy of Peace to the world's wild animals? Did they learn it by observing the ways of man? "It is to laugh," says the innkeeper. Man has not yet learned it himself; and therefore do we find the beasts of the field a lap ahead of the quarrelsome biped who has assumed dominion over them.
Day by day we read in our newspapers of men and women who are moral lepers and utterly unfit to associate with horses, dogs, cats, deer and elephants. Our big male chimpanzee, Father Boma, who knows no wife but Suzette, and firmly repels the blandishments of his neighbor Fanny, is a more moral individual than many a pretty gentleman whose name we see heading columns of divorce proceedings in the newspapers.
Said the Count to Julia in "The Hunchback," "Dost thou like the picture, dearest?" As a natural historian, it is our task to hew to the line, and let the chips fall where they will.
Among the wild animals there are but few degenerate and unmoral species. In some very upright species there are occasionally individual lapses from virtue. A famous case in point is the rogue elephant, who goes from meanness to meanness until he becomes unbearable. Then he is driven out of the herd; he becomes an outcast and a bandit, and he upsets carts, maims bullocks, tears down huts and finally murders natives until the nearest local sahib gets after him, and ends his career with a bullet through his wicked brain.
In my opinion the gray wolf of North America (like his congener in the Old World) is the most degenerate and unmoral mammal species on earth. He murders his wounded packmates, he is a greedy cannibal, he will attack his wife and chew her unmercifully. On the other hand, his one redeeming trait is that he helps to rear the pups,—when they are successfully defended from him by their mother!
The wolverine makes a specialty of devilish and uncanny cunning and energy in destroying the property of man. Trappers have told us that when a wolverine invades a trapper's cabin in his absence, he destroys very nearly its entire contents. The food that he can neither eat nor carry away he defiles in such a manner that the hungriest man is unable to eat it. This seems to be a trait of this species only,—among wild animals; but during the recent war it was asserted that similar acts were committed by soldiers in the captured and occupied villas of northern France.
The domestication of the dog has developed a new type of animal criminal. The sheep-killing dog is in a class by himself. The wild dog hunts in the broad light of day, often running down game by the relay system. The sheep-killing dog is a cunning night assassin, a deceiver of his master, a shrewd hider of criminal evidence, a sanctimonious hypocrite by day but a bloody-minded murderer under cover of darkness. Sometimes his cunning is almost beyond belief. Now, can anyone tell us how much of this particular evolution is due to the influence of Man upon Dog through a hundred generations of captivity and association? Has the dog learned from man the science of moral banditry, the best methods for the concealment of evidence, and how to dissemble?
Elsewhere a chapter is devoted to the crimes of wild animals; but the great majority of the cases cited were found among captive animals, where abnormal conditions produced exceptional results. The crimes of captive animals are many, but the crimes of free wild animals are comparatively few. Whenever we disturb the delicate and precise balance of nature we may expect abnormal results.
XIX
THE LAWS OF THE FLOCKS AND THE HERDS
Through a thousand generations of breeding and living under natural conditions, and of self-maintenance against enemies and evil conditions, the wild flocks and herds of beasts and birds have evolved a short code of community laws that make for their own continued existence.
And they do more than that. When free from the evil influences of man, those flock-and-herd laws promote, and actually produce, peace, prosperity and happiness. This is no fantastic theory of the friends of animals. It is a fact, just as evident to the thinking mind as the presence of the sun at high noon.
The first wild birds and quadrupeds found themselves beset by climatic conditions of various degrees and kinds of rigor and destructive power. In the torrid zone it took the form of excessive rain and humidity, excessive heat, or excessive dryness and aridity. In the temperate and frigid zones, life was a seasonal battle with bitter cold, torrents of cold rain in early winter or spring, devastating sleet, and deep snow and ice that left no room for argument.
At the same time, the species that were not predatory found themselves surrounded by fangs and claws, and the never-ending hunger of their owners. The air, the earth and the waters swarmed with predatory animals, great and small, ever seeking for the herbivorous and traitorous species, and preferably those that were least able to fight or to flee. The La Brea fossil beds at Los Angeles, wherein a hospitable lake of warm asphalt conserved skeletal remains of vertebrates to an extent and perfection quite unparalleled, have revealed some very remarkable conditions. The enormous output, up to date, of skulls of huge lions, wolves, sabre-toothed tigers, bears and other predatory animals, shows, for once, just what the camels, llamas, deer, bison and mammoths of those days had to do, to be, and to suffer in order to survive.
With the aid of a little serious study, it is by no means difficult to recognize the hard laws that have enabled the elephant, bison, sheep, goats, deer, antelope, gazelles, fur-seal, walrus and others to survive and increase. From the wild animal herds and bird flocks that we have seen and personally known, we know what their laws are, and can set them down in the order of their evolution and importance.
The First Law. There shall be no fighting in the family, the herd or the species, at any other time than in the mating season; and then only between adult males who fight for herd leadership.
The destructiveness of intertribal warfare, either organized or desultory, must have been recognized in Jurassic times, millions of years ago, by the reptiles of that period. Throughout the animal kingdom below man the blessings of peace now are thoroughly known. This first law is obeyed by all species save man. We doubt whether all the testimony of the rocks added together can show that one wild species of vertebrate life ever really was exterminated by another species, not even excepting the predatory species which lived by killing.
No one (so far as we know) has charged that the lions, or the tigers, the bears, the orcas, the eagles or the owls have ever obliterated a species during historic times. It was the swine of civilization, transplanted by human agencies, that exterminated the dodo on the Island of Mauritius; and it was men, not birds of prey, who swept off the earth the great auk, the passenger pigeon and a dozen other bird species.
The Second Law. The strong members of a flock or herd shall not bully nor oppress the weak.
This law, constantly broken by degenerate and vicious men, women and children, very rarely is broken in a free wild herd or flock. In the observance of this fundamental law, born of ethics and expediency, mankind is far behind the wild animals. It would serve a good purpose if the criminologists and the alienists would figure out the approximate proportion of the human species now living that bullies and maltreats and oppresses the weak and the defenseless. At this moment "society" in the United States is in a state of thoroughly imbecilic defenselessness against the new type of predatory savages known as "bandits."
The Third Law. During the annual period of motherhood, both prospective and actual, mothers must be held safe from all forms of molestation; and their young shall in no manner be interfered with.
For the perpetuation of a family, a clan or a species, the protection of the mothers, and their weak and helpless offspring is a necessity recognized by even the dullest vertebrate animals. As birth-time or nesting-time approaches the wild flocks and herds universally permit the potential mothers to seek seclusion, and to work out their respective problems according to their own judgment and the means at their command. The coming mother looks for a spot that will afford (1) a secure hiding-place, (2) the best available shelter from inclement weather, (3) accessible food and water, and (4) cover or other protection for her young.
During this period the males often herd together, and they serve a protective function by attracting to themselves the attacks of their enemies. For the mothers, the bearing time is a truce time. There are fox-hunters who roundly assert that in spring fox hounds have been known to refuse to attack and kill foxes about to become mothers.
The Fourth Law. In union there is strength; in separation there is weakness; and the solitary animal is in the greatest danger.
It was the wild species of mammals and birds who learned and most diligently observed this law who became individually the most numerous. A hundred pairs of eyes, a hundred noses and a hundred pairs of listening ears increase about ten times the protection of the single individual against surprise attacks. The solitary elephant, bison, sheep or goat is far easier to stalk and approach than a herd, or a herd member. A wolf pack can attack and kill even the strongest solitary musk-ox, bison or caribou, but the horned herd is invincible. A lynx can pull down and kill a single mountain sheep ram, but even the mountain lion does not care to attack a herd of sheep. It is due solely to the beneficent results of this clear precept, and the law of defensive union, that any baboons are today alive in Africa.
The grizzly bear loves mountain-goat meat; but he does not love to have his inner tube punctured by the deadly little black skewers on the head of a billy. It is the Mountain Goats' Protective Union that condemns the silvertip grizzly to laborious digging for humble little ground-squirrels, instead of killing goats for a living. The rogue elephant who will not behave himself in the herd, and will not live up to the herd law, is expelled; and after that takes place his wicked race is very soon ended by a high- power bullet, about calibre .26. The last one brought to my notice was overtaken by Charles Theobald, State Shikaree of Mysore, in a Ford automobile; and the car outlived the elephant.
The Fifth Law. Absolute obedience to herd leaders and parents is essential to the safety of the herd and of the individual; and this obedience must be prompt and thorough.
Whenever the affairs of grown men and women are dominated by ignorant, inexperienced and rash juniors, look out for trouble; for as surely as the sun continues to shine, it will come. With an acquaintance that comprehends many species of wild quadrupeds and birds, I do not recall even one herd or flock that I have seen led by its young members. There are no young spendthrifts among the wild animals. For them, youthful folly is too expensive to be tolerated. The older members of the clan are responsible for its safety, and therefore do they demand obedience to their orders. They have their commands, and they have a sign language by which they convey them in terms that are silent but unmistakable. They order "Halt," and the herd stops, at once. At the command "Attention," each herd member "freezes" where he stands, and intently looks, listens and scents the air. At the order "Feed at will," the tension slowly relaxes; but if the order is "Fly!" the whole herd is off in a body, as if propelled by one mind and one power.
My first knowledge of this law of the flock came down to me from the blue ether when I first saw, in my boyhood, a V-shaped flock of Canada geese cleaving the sky with straight and steady flight, and perfect alignment. Even in my boyish mind I realized that the well-ordered progress of the wild geese was in obedience to Intelligence and Flock Law. Later on, I saw on the Jersey sands the mechanical sweeps and curves and doubles of flying flocks of sandpipers and sanderlings, as absolutely perfect in obedience to their leaders as the slats of a Venetian blind.
A herd of about thirty elephants, under the influence of a still alarm and sign signals, once vanished from the brush in front of me so quickly and so silently that it seemed uncanny. One single note of command from a gibbon troop leader is sufficient to set the whole company in instant motion, fleeing at speed and in good order, with not a sound save the swish of the small branches that serve as the rungs of their ladder of flight.
In the actual practice of herd leadership in species of ruminant animals, the largest and most spectacular bull elk or bison is not always the leader. Frequently it has been observed that a wise old cow is the actual leader and director of the herd, and that "what she says, goes." This was particularly remarked to me by James McNaney during the course of our "last buffalo hunt" in Montana, in 1886. From 1880 to 1884 he had been a mighty buffalo-hunter, for hides. He stated that whenever as a still-hunter he got "a stand on a bunch," and began to shoot, slowly and patiently, so as not to alarm the stand, whenever a buffalo took alarm and attempted to lead away the bunch, usually it proved to be a wise old cow. The bulls seemed too careless to take notice of the firing and try to lead away from it.
The Sixth Law. Of food and territory, the weak shall have their share.
While this law is binding upon all the members of a wild flock, a herd, a clan or a species, outside of species limits it may become null and void; though in actual practice I think that this rarely occurs. Among the hoofed animals; the seals and sea-lions; the apes, baboons and monkeys, and the kangaroos, the food that is available to a herd is common to all its members. We can not recall an instance of a species attempting to dispossess and evict another species, though it must be that many such have occurred. In the game-laden plains of eastern Africa, half a dozen species, such as kongonis, sable antelopes, gazelles and zebras, often have been observed in one landscape, with no fighting visible.
With all but the predatory wild animals and man, the prevailing disposition is to live, and let live. One of the few recorded murders of young animals by an old one of the same species concerned the wanton killing of two polar bear cubs in northern Franz Joseph Land, as observed by Nansen.
The Seventh Law. Man is the deadliest enemy of all the wild creatures; and the instant a man appears the whole herd must fly from him, fast and far.
In some of the regions to which man and his death-dealing influence have not penetrated, this law is not yet on the statute books of the jungle and the wilderness. Sir Ernest Shackleton and Captain Scott found it unknown to the giant penguins and sea leopards of the Antarctic Continent, I have seen a few flocks and herds by whom the law was either unknown or forgotten; but the total number is a small one. There was a herd of mountain sheep on Pinacate Peak, a big flock of sage grouse in Montana, various flocks of ptarmigan on the summits of the Elk River Mountains, British Columbia,—and out of a long list of occurrences that is all I will now recall.
It is fairly common for the members of a vast assemblage of animals, like the bison, barren-ground caribou, fur seal, and sea birds on their nesting cliffs, to assume such security from their numbers as to ignore man; and all such cases are highly interesting manifestations of the influence of the fourth law when carried out to six decimal places.
The Eighth and Last Law. Whenever in a given spot all men cease to kill us, there may we accept sanctuary and dwell in peace.
This law comes as Amendment 1 to the original Constitution of the Animal Kingdom. The quick intelligence of wild animals in recognizing a new sanctuary, and in adopting it unreservedly and thankfully as their own territory, is to all friends of wild life a source of wonder and delight. With their own eyes Americans have seen the effects of sanctuary-making upon bison, elk, mule deer, white-tailed deer, mountain sheep, mountain goat, prong-horned antelope, grizzly and black bears, beavers, squirrels, chipmunks, rabbits, sage grouse, quail, wild ducks and geese, swans, pelicans brown and white, and literally hundreds of species of smaller birds of half a dozen orders.
In view of this magnificent and continent-wide manifestation of discovery, new thought and original conclusion, let no man tell us that the wild birds and quadrupeds "do not think" and "can not reason."
The Exceptions of Captivity. When wild animals come into captivity, a few individuals develop and reveal their worst traits of character, and much latent wickedness comes to the surface. A small percentage of individuals become mean and lawless, and a still smaller number show criminal instincts. These Bolshevistic individuals commit misdemeanors and crimes such as are unknown in the wild state. One male ruminant out of perhaps fifty will turn murderer, and kill a female or a fawn, entirely contrary to the herd law; and at long intervals a male predatory animal kills his mate or young.
Occasionally captivity warps wild animal or wild bird character quite out of shape, though it is a satisfaction to know that the total proportion of those so affected is very small. Long and close confinement in a prison-like home, filled with more daily cares and worries than any animal cage has of iron bars, has sent many a human wife and mother to an insane asylum; but the super- humanitarians who rail out at the existence of zoological parks and zoos are troubled by that not at all.
XX
PLAYS AND PASTIMES OF ANIMALS
I approach this subject with a feeling of satisfaction; but I would not like to state the number of hours that I have spent in watching the play of our wild animals.
Out in the wilds, where the bears, sheep and goats live and thrive, the outdoorsmen see comparatively few wild animals at play. No matter what the season, the dangers of the wilderness and mountain summit remain the same. When kids and lambs are young, the eaglets are hungriest, and their mothers are most determined in their hunting. After September 1, the deadly still-hunters are out, and strained watchfulness is the unvarying rule, from dawn until dark.
Out in the wilds, it is the moving animal that instantly catches every hostile eye within visual range. A white goat kid vigorously gamboling on the bare rocks would attract all the golden eagles, hunters, trappers and Indians within a radius of two miles. It is the rule that kids, fawns and lambs must lie low and keep still, to avoid attracting deadly enemies. On the bare summits, play can be indulged in only at great risk. Generations of persecution have implanted in the brain of the ruminant baby the commanding instinct to fold up its long legs, neatly and compactly, furl its ears along its neck, and closely lie for hours against a rock or a log. During daylight hours they must literally hug the ground. Silence and inactivity is the first price that all young animals in the wilds pay for their lives. It is only in the safe shelter of captivity, or man-made sanctuaries, that they are free to play.
In the comfortable security of the "zoo" all the wild conditions are changed. The restraints of fear are off, and every animal is free to act as joyous as it feels. Here we see things that men never see in the wilds! If any Rocky Mountain bear hunter should ever see bear cubs or full-grown bears wrestling and carrying on as they do here, he would say that they were plumb crazy!
Of all our wild animals, not even excepting the apes and monkeys, our young bears are the most persistently playful. In fact, I believe that when properly caged and tended, bears under eight years of age are the most joyous and playful of all wild animals. We have given our bears smooth and spacious yards floored with concrete, with a deep pool in the centre of each, and great possibilities in climbing upon rocks high and low. The top of each sleeping den is a spacious balcony with a smooth floor. The facilities for bear wrestling and skylarking are perfect, and there are no offensive uneven floors nor dead stone walls to annoy or discourage any bear. They can look at each other through the entire series of cages and there is no chance whatever for a bear to feel lonesome. We put just as many individuals into each cage as we think the traffic will stand; and sometimes as many as six young bears are reared together.
Now, all these conditions promote good spirits, playfulness, and the general enjoyment of life. Any one who thinks that our bears are not far happier than those that are in the wilds and exposed to enemies, hunger and cold, should pause and consider.
Our bear cubs begin to play just as soon as they emerge from their natal den, in March or April, and they keep it up until they are six or seven years of age,—or longer! Our visitors take the playfulness of small cubs as a matter of course, but the clumsy and ridiculous postures and antics of fat-paunched full-grown bears are irresistibly funny. Really, there are times when it seems as if the roars of laughter from the watching crowd stimulates wrestling bears to further efforts. On October 28, 1921, about seventy boys stood in front of and alongside the den of two Kluane grizzly cubs and shouted for nearly half an hour in approval and admiration of the rapid and rough play of those cubs.
[Illustration with caption: ADULT BEARS AT PLAY]
The play of bears, young or middle-aged, consists in boxing, catch-as-catch-can wrestling, and chasing each other to and fro. Cubs begin to spar as soon as they are old enough to stand erect on their hind feet. They take their distance as naturally as prize-fighters, and they strike, parry and dodge just as men do. They handle their front feet with far more dexterity and precision than boys six years of age.
Boxing bears always strike for the head, and bite to seize the cheek of the opponent. In biting, mouth meets mouth, in defense as well as attack. When a biting bear makes a successful pass and finally succeeds in getting a firm toothhold on the cheek of his opponent, the party of the second part promptly throws himself prone upon the ground, and with four free feet concentrated upon the head of the other bear forces him to let go. This movement, and the four big, flat foot soles coming up into action is, in large bears, a very laughable spectacle, and generally produces a roar.
Wrestling bears roll over and over on the ground, clawing and biting, until one scrambles up, and either makes a new attack or rushes away.
Bears love to chase one another, and be chased; and in this form of skylarking they raise a whirlwind of activity which leads all around the floor, up to the balcony and along the length of it, and plunges down at the other end. Often a bear that is chased will fling himself into the bathing pool, with a tremendous splash, quickly scramble out again and rush off anew in a swirl of flying water.
The two big male polar bears that came to us from the William Hagenbeck group were very fond of playing and wrestling in the water of their swimming pool. Often they kept up that aquatic skylarking for two hours at a stretch, and by this constant claw work upon each other's pelts they kept their coats of hair so thinned down that we had to explain them. One bear had a very spectacular swimming trick. He would swim across the pool until his front feet touched the side, then he would throw himself over backwards, put his hind feet against the rock wall, and with a final shove send himself floating gracefully on his back across to the other side.
Playful bears are much given to playing tricks, and teasing each other. A bear sleeping out in the open den is regarded as a proper subject for hectoring, by a sudden bite or cuff, or a general assault. It is natural to expect that wrestling bears will frequently become angry and fight; but such is not the case. This often happens with boys and men, but bears play the game consistently to the end. I can not recall a single instance of a real bear fight as the result of a wrestling or boxing match; and may all boys take note of this good example from the bear dens.
Next to the bears, the apes and monkeys are our most playful animals. Here, also, it is the young and the half grown members of the company that are most active in play. Fully mature animals are too sedate, or too heavy, for the frivolities of youth. A well- matched pair of young chimpanzees will wrestle and play longer and harder than the young of any other primate species known to me. It is important to cage together only young apes of equal size and strength, for if there is any marked disparity in size, the larger and stronger animal will wear out the strength of its smaller cage-mate, and impair its health.
In playing, young chimps, orangs or monkeys seize each other and wrestle, fall, and roll over and over, indefinitely. They make great pretenses of biting each other, but it is all make-believe. My favorite orang-utan pet in Borneo loved to play at biting me, but whenever the pressure became too strong I would say chidingly, "Ah! Ah!" and his jaws would instantly relax. He loved to butt me in the chest with his head, make wry faces, and make funny noises with his lips. I tried to teach him "cat's cradle" but it was too much for him. His clumsy fingers could not manage it.
One of our brightest chimpanzees, named Baldy, was much given to hectoring his female cage-mate, for sport. What he regarded as his best joke was destroying her bed. Many times over, after she had laboriously carried straw up to the balcony, carefully made up a nice, soft, circular bed for herself, and settled down upon it for a well-earned rest, Baldy would silently climb up to her level, suddenly fling himself upon her as she lay, and with all four of his arms and legs violently working, the nest would be torn to pieces and scattered and the lady orang rudely pulled about. Then Baldy would joyously swing down to the lower level, settle himself demurely at the front of the cage, and with a placid face and innocent, far-away expression in his eyes gaze at the crowd. There was nothing lacking but a mischievous wink of one eye.
Whenever his cage-mate selected a particularly long and perfect straw and placed it crosswise in her mouth, Baldy would steal up behind her and gleefully snatch it away.
Baldy was a born comedian. He loved to amuse a crowd and make people laugh. He would go through a great trapeze performance of clownish and absurd gymnastics, and often end it with three or four loud smacks of his big black feet against the wall. This was accomplished by violent kicking backwards. His dancing and up-and- down jumping always made visitors laugh, after which he would joyously give his piercing "Wah-hoo" shout of triumph. A Sioux Indian squaw dances by jumping up and down, but her performance is lifeless in comparison.
No vaudeville burlesque dancer ever cut a funnier monkey shine than the up-and-down high-jump dance and floor-slapping act of our Boma chimpanzee (1921). Boma offers this whenever he becomes especially desirous of entertaining a party of distinguished visitors. In stiff dancing posture, he leaps high in the air, precisely like a great black jumping-jack straight from Dante's Inferno. Orangs love to turn somersaults, and some individuals are so persistent about it as to wear the hair off their backs, disfigure their beauty, and disgust their keepers.
In the chapter on "Mental Traits of the Gorilla" a descriptionis given of the play of Major Penny's wonderful John Gorilla.
When many captive monkeys are kept together in one large cage containing gymnastic properties, many species develop humor, and indulge in play of many kinds. They remind me of a group of well- fed and boisterous small boys who must skylark or "bust." From morning until night they pull each other's tails, wrestle and roll, steal each other's playthings, and wildly chase each other to and fro. There is no end of chattering, and screeching, and funny facial grimaces. A writer in Life once said that the sexes of monkeys can be distinguished by the fact that "the females chatter twice as fast as the males," but I am sure that many ladies will dispute that statement.
In a company of mixed monkeys, or a mixed company of monkeys, a timid and fearsome individual is often made the butt of practical jokes by other monkeys who recognize its weakness. And who has not seen the same trait revealed in crowds of boys?
But we can linger no longer with the Primates.
Who has not seen squirrels at play? Once seen, such an incident is not soon forgotten. I have seen gray, fox and red squirrels engage in highly interesting performances. The gray squirrel is stately and beautiful in its play, but the red squirrel is amazing in its elaborateness of method. I have seen a pair of those mischief- makers perform low down on the trunk of a huge old virgin white oak tree, where the holding was good, and work out a program almost beyond belief. They raced and chased to and fro, up, down and across, in circles, triangles, parabolas and rectangles, until it was fairly bewildering. Really, they seemed to move just as freely and certainly on the tree-trunk as if they were on the ground, with no such thing in sight as the law of gravitation.
It seems to me that the gray squirrel barks and the red squirrel chatters, scolds, and at times swears, chiefly for the fun of hearing himself make a noise. In the red squirrel it is impudent and defiant; and usually you hear it near your camp, or in your own grounds, where the rascals know that they will not be shot.
The playful spirit seems to be inherent in the young of all the Felidae. The playfulness of lion, tiger, leopard and puma cubs is irresistibly pleasing; and it is worth while to rear domestic kittens in order to watch their playful antics.
I have been assured by men who seemed to know, that wolf and fox cubs silently play in front of their home dens, when well screened from view, just as domestic dog puppies do; and what on earth can beat the playfulness of puppies of the right kind, whose parents have given them red blood instead of fat as their inheritance. Interesting books might be written about the play of dogs alone.
The play of the otter, in sliding down a long and steep toboggan slide of wet and slippery earth to a water plunge at the bottom, is well known to trappers, hunters, and a few naturalists. It is quite celebrated, and is on record in many places. I have seen otter slides, but never had the good luck to see one in use. The otters indulge in this very genuine sport with just as much interest and zest as boys develop in coasting over ice and snow with their sleds.
Here at the Zoological Park, young animals of a number of species amuse themselves in the few ways that are open to them. It is a common thing for fawns and calves of various kinds to butt their mothers, just for fun. A more common form of infantile ruminant sport is racing and jumping. Now and then we see a red buffalo calf three or four months old suddenly begin a spell of running for amusement, in the pure exuberance of health and good living. A calf will choose a long open course, usually up and down a gentle slope, and for two hundred feet or more race madly to and fro for a dozen laps, with tail stiffly and very absurdly held aloft. Of course men and beasts all pause to look at such performances, and at the finish the panting and perspiring calf halts and gazes about with a conscious air of pride. All this is deliberate "showing off," just such as small boys frequently engage in.
Elk fawns, and more rarely deer fawns, also occasionally indulge in similar performances. Often an adult female deer develops the same trait. One of our female Eld's deer annually engages in a series of spring runs. We have seen her race the full length of her corral, up and down, over a two hundred foot course, at really break-neck speed, and keep it up until her tongue hung out.
Years ago, in the golden days, I was so lucky as to see several times wonderful dances of flocks of saras cranes on the low sandy islets in the River Jumna, northern India, just below Etawah. It was like this: While the birds are idly stepping about, apropos of nothing at all, one suddenly flaps his long wings several times in succession, another jumps straight up in the air for a yard or so, and presto! with one accord the whole flock is galvanized into action. They throw aside their dignity, and real fun begins. Some stand still, heads high up, and flap their wings many times. Others leap in the air, straight up and down, one jump after another, as high as they can go. Others run about bobbing and bowing, and elaborately courtesying to each other with half opened wings, breasts low down and their tails high in the air, cutting very ridiculous figures.
In springtime in the Zoological Park we often see similar exhibitions of crane play in our large crane paddock. A particularly joyous bird takes a fit of running with spread wings, to and fro, many times over, and usually one bird thus performing inspires another, probably of his own kind, to join in the game. The other cranes look on admiringly and sometimes a spectator shrilly trumpets his approval.
In his new book, "The Friendly Arctic," Mr. Vilhjalmur Stefansson records an interesting example of play indulged in jointly by a frivolous arctic fox and eight yearling barren-ground caribou. It was a game of tag, or its wild equivalent. The fox ran into and through the group of caribou fawns, which gave chase and tried to catch the fox, but in vain. At last the fawns gave up the chase, returned to their original position, and came to parade rest. Then back came the fox. Again it scurried through the group in a most tantalizing manner, which soon provoked the fawns to chase the fox anew. At the end of this inning the caribou again abandoned the chase, whereupon the fox went off to attend to other affairs.
On the whole, the play of wild animals is a large field and no writer will exhaust it with one chapter. Very sincerely do we wish that at least one of the many romance writers who are so industriously inventing wild-animal blood-and-thunder stories would do more work with his eyes and less with his imagination.
XXI
COURAGE IN WILD ANIMALS
Either in wild animals or tame men, courage is the moral impulse that impels an individual to fight or to venture at the risk of bodily harm. Like Theodore Roosevelt, the truly courageous individual engages his adversary without stopping to consider the possible consequences to himself. The timid man shrinks from the onset while he takes counsel of his fears, and reflects that "It may injure me in my business," or that "It may hurt my standing;" and in the end he becomes a slacker.
Among the mental traits and passions of wild creatures, a quantitative and qualitative analysis of courage becomes a highly interesting study. We can easily fall into the error of considering that fighting is the all-in-all measure of courage; which very often is far from being true. The mother quail that pretends to be wounded and feigns helplessness in order to draw hostile attention unto herself and away from her young, thereby displays courage of a high order. No quail unburdened by a helpless brood requiring her protection ever dreams of taking such risks. The gray gibbons of Borneo, who quite successfully made their escape from us, but promptly returned close up to my party in response to the S. O. S. cries of a captured baby gibbon, displayed the sublime courage of parental affection, and of desperation. Wary, timid and fearfully afraid of man, at the first sight of a biped they swing away. At the first roar of a gun they literally fly down hill through the treetops, and vanish in a wild panic. And yet, the leading members of that troop halted and swiftly came back, piercing the gloom and silence of the forest with their shrill cries of mingled encouragement and protest. It was quite as courageous and heroic as the act of a father who rushes into a burning building to save his child, at the imminent risk of his own life.
The animal world has its full share of heroes. Also, it has its complement of pugilists and bullies, its cowards and its assassins.
Few indeed are the wild creatures that fight gratuitously, or attack other animals without cause. If a fight occurs, look for the motive. The wild creatures know that peace promotes happiness and long life. Now, of all wild quadrupeds, it is probable that the African baboons are pound for pound the most pugnacious, and the quickest on the draw. The old male baboon in his prime will fight anything that threatens his troop, literally at the drop of a hat. But there is method in his madness. He and his wives and children dwell on the ground in lands literally reeking with fangs and claws. He has to confront the lion, leopard, wild dog and hyena, and make good his right to live. No wonder, then, that his temper is hot, his voice raucous and blood-curdling; his canines fearfully long and sharp, and his savage yell of warning sufficient to keep even the king of beasts off his grass.
Once I saw two baboons fight. We had two huge and splendid adult male gelada baboons, from Abyssinia. They were kept separate, but in adjoining cages; and the time came when we needed one of those cages for another distinguished arrival. We decided to try the rather hazardous experiment of herding those two geladas together.
Accordingly, we first opened the doors to both outside cages, to afford for the moment a free circulation of baboons, and then we opened the partition door. Instantly the two animals rushed together in raging combat. With a fierce grip each seized the other by the left cheek; and then began a baboon cyclone. They spun around on their axis, they rolled over and over on the floor, and they waltzed in speechless rage over every foot of those two cages. Strange to say, beyond coughing and gasping they made no sounds. Never before had we witnessed such a fearsome exhibition of insane hatred and rage.
As soon as the horrified spectators could bring it about, the wild fighters were separated; and strange to say, neither of them was seriously injured. It was a drawn battle.
It is quite difficult to weigh and measure the independent and abstract courage inherent in any wild animal species. All that can be done is to grope after the truth. On this subject there can be almost as many different opinions as there are species of wild animals.
What animal will go farthest in daring and defying man, even the man with a gun, in foraging for food?
Unquestionably and indisputably, the lion. This is no idle repetition of an old belief, or tradition. It is a fact; and we say this quite mindful of the records made by the grizzly bear, the Alaskan brown bear, the tiger, the leopard and the jaguar.
"The Man-Eaters of Tsavo" opened up a strange and new chapter in the life history of the savage lion. That truthful record of an astounding series of events showed the lion in an attitude of permanent aggression, backed by amazing and persistent courage. For several months in that rude construction camp on the arid bank of the Tsavo River, where a railway bridge was being constructed on the famous Uganda Railway line of British East Africa, lions and men struggled mightily and fought with each other, with living men as the stakes of victory. The book written by Col. J.H. Patterson, under the title mentioned above, tells a plain and simple story of the nightly onslaughts of the lions, the tragedies suffered from them, the constant, the desperate though often ill-consideredefforts of the white engineers to protect the terrorized black laborers, and finally the death of the man- eaters. During a series of battles lasting four long months the two lions killed and carried of a total of twenty-eight men! How many natives were killed and not reported never will be known. The most hair-raising episode of all had a comedy touch, and fortunately it did not quite end in a tragedy. This is what happened:
Col. Patterson and his staff decided to try to catch the boldest of the lions in a trap baited with a living man. Accordingly a two-room trap was built, one room to hold and protect the man-bait, the other to catch and hold the lion. A very courageous native consented to be "it," and he was put in place and fastened up. The lion came on schedule time, he found the live bait, boldly entered the trap to seize it, and the dropping door fell as advertised. When the lion found himself caught, did his capture trouble him? Not in the least. Instead of starting in to tear his way out he decided to postpone his escape until he had torn down the partition and eaten the man! So at the partition he went, with teeth and claws.
In mortal terror the live bait yelled for succor. In "the last analysis" the man was saved from the lion, but the lion joyously tore his way out and escaped without a scratch. So far from being daunted by this divertisement he continued his man-killing industry, quite as usual.
Now, the salient points of the man-eaters of Tsavo consist of the unquenchable courage of the two lions, and their persistent defiance of white men armed with rifles. I am sure that there is nowhere in existence another record of wild-animal courage equal to this, and the truthfulness of it is quite beyond question.
The annals of African travel and exploration contain instances innumerable of the unparalleled courage of the lion in taking what he wants when he wants it.
THE GRIZZLY BEAR'S COURAGE. As a subject, this is a hazardous risk, because so many men are able to tell all about it. Judging from reliable records of the ways and means of the grizzly bear, I think we must award the second prize for courage to "Old Ephraim." The list of his exploits in scaring pioneers, in attacking hunters, in robbing camps, and finally in bear- handling and almost killing two guides in the Yellowstone Park, is long and thrilling. The record reaches back to the days of Lewis and Clark, who related many wild adventures with bears. The grizzlies of their day were very courageous, but even then they were not greatly given to attacking men quite unprovoked! In those days of bow-and-arrow Indians, and of white men armed only with ineffective muzzle-loading pea rifles, using only weak black powder, the grizzlies had an even chance with their human adversaries, and sometimes they took first money. In those days the courage of the grizzly was at its highest peak; and it was then conceded by all frontiersmen that the grizzly was thoroughly courageous, and always ready to fight. In the light of subsequent history, and in order to be just to the grizzly, we claim that his fighting was in self defense, for even in those days the unwounded bear preferred to run rather than to fight unnecessarily.
The rise of the high-power, long-range repeating rifle has made the grizzly bear a different animal from what he was in the days of Lewis and Clark. He has learned, thoroughly, the supreme deadliness of man's new weapons, and he knows that he is no longer able to meet men on even terms. Consequently, he runs, he hides, he avoids man, everywhere save in the Yellowstone Park, where he has found out that firearms are prohibited. There he has broken the truce so often that his offenses have had to be met with stern disciplinary measures that have made for the safety of tourists and guides.
Once I saw an amusing small incident. Be it known that when a new black bear cub is introduced to a den of its peers, the newcomer shrinks in fright, and cowers, and takes its place right humbly. But species alter cases. Once when we received an eight-months- old grizzly cub we turned it loose in a big den that contained five black bear cubs a year older than itself. But did the grizzly cub cower and shrink? By no manner of means. With head fully erect, it marched calmly to the centre of the den, and with serene confidence gave the other cubs the once-over with an air that plainly said: "I'm a grizzly! I'm here, and I've come to stay. Do I hear any objections?"
Quite as if in answer to the challenge, an eighteen-months-old black bear presently sidled up and made a trial blow at the grizzly's head. Instantly the grizzly cub's right arm shot out a well-delivered blow that sent the black one scurrying away in a panic, and perceptibly cleared the atmosphere. That cub had grizzly-bear courage and confidence; that was all.
There are a number of American sportsmen who esteem the Cape buffalo as the most aggressive and dangerous wild animal in eastern Africa. He is so courageous and so persistently bold that he is much given to lying in wait for hunters and attacking with real fury. The high grass of his swamps is very helpful to him as a means of defense. In our National Collection of Heads and Horns there is a huge buffalo head (for years the world's highest record) that tells the story of a near tragedy. The brother of Mr. F.H. Barber, of South Africa, fired at the animal, but failed to stop it. His gun jammed, and the charging beast was almost in the act of killing him when F.H. Barber fired without pausing to take aim. His lucky bullet knocked a piece out of the buffalo's left horn, dazed the animal for a moment, and afforded time for the shot that killed the mighty bull.
The leopard is usually a vicious beast. When brought to bay it fights with great fury and success. The black leopard is supremely vicious and intractable. Nearly all leopards hate training, and I have seen two or three leopard "acts" that were nerve-racking to witness because of the clear determination of all the animals to kill their trainer at the first opportunity.
The status of the big Alaskan brown bear has already been referred to in terms that may stand as an estimate of its courage. Really, it is now in the same mental state as the grizzly bears of the days of Lewis and Clark, and the surplus must be shot to admonish the survivors and protect the rights of man.
THE RAGE OF A WILD BULL ELK. One of the most remarkable cases of rage, resentment and fighting courage in a newly captured wild animal occurred near Buttonwillow, California, in November 1904, and is very graphically described by Dr. C. Hart Merriam in the Scientific Monthly for November 1921. The story concerns the leader of a band of the small California Valley Elk (Cervus nannodes) which it was desired to transport to Sequoia Park, for permanent preservation.
The bull refused to be driven to the corral for capture, so he was roped, thrown, hog-tied and hauled six miles on a wagon. This indignity greatly enraged the animal. At the corral he was liberated for the purpose of driving him through a chute and into a car.
From his capture and the jolting ride the bull was furious, and he refused to be driven. His first act was to gore and mortally wound a young elk that unfortunately found itself in the corral with him. Then he was roped again and his horns were sawn off. At first no horseman dared to ride into the corral to attempt to drive the animal. Finally the leader of the cowboys, Bill Woodruff, mounted on a wise and powerful horse who knew the game quite as well as his rider, rode into the corral with the raging elk, and attempted to drive it.
The story of the fight that followed, of raging elk vs. horse and man, makes stories of Spanish bullfights seem tame and commonplace, and the adventure of St. George and the dragon a dull affair. With the stubs of his antlers the bull charged the horse again and again, inflicting upon the splendid animal heart-rending punishment. Finally, after a fearful conflict, the wise and brave horse conquered, and the elk devil was forced into the car.
After a short railway journey the elk was forced into a crate,— fighting at every step,—and hauled a two days' journey to the Park. Reduced to kicking as its sole expression of resentment, the animal kicked continuously for forty-eight hours, almost demolishing the crate.
The final scene of this unparalleled drama of wild-animal rage is thus described by Dr. Merriam: "Then the other gates were raised, giving the bull an opportunity to step out. For the first, time since his capture he did what was wanted; he voluntarily crept to the rear of the wagon and hobbled out on the ground. Looking around for an enemy to attack and not seeing any, —some of the men having stationed themselves outside the park fence, the others on top of the crate,—he set out for the river, only a few rods away.
"His courage had not forsaken him, but his strength had. He was no longer the proudly aggressive wild beast he had been. He had reached his limit. The terrible ordeal he had been through; the struggle incident to his capture; the rough, hot ride to the corral, hog-tied, on the hard floor of the dead-ax wagon; the outbursts of passion in the corral; the fighting and second roping in connection with the sawing off of his horns; the battle with the big horse; the ceaseless violence of his destructive assaults, first in the car, then in the crate, continued for three days and nights, had finally undermined even his iron frame; so when at last he found himself free on the ground, he presented a truly pitiful picture.
"With his head bent to one side and back curved, with one ear up and the other down, and with a dejected, helpless expression on his face, he hobbled wearily away, barely able to step without falling. Slowly he made his way to the river, waded in, drank, crossed to the far side, staggered laboriously up the low bank, and lay down. The next day he was found in the same spot,—dead."
THE DEFENSE OF THE HOME AND FAMILY. Any man who is too cowardly to fight for his home and country deserves to live and die homeless and without a country.
With this subject of courage the parental and fraternal affections of wild animals are inseparably linked. The defense of the home and family unit is the foundation of all courage, and of all fighting qualities in man or animals. The gospel of self-defense is the first plank in the platform of the home defenders. Obviously, the head of a family cannot permit himself to be knocked out, because as the chief fighter in the Home Defense League it is his bounden duty to preserve his strength and his weapons, and remain fit.
In the days of the club, the stone axe and the flint arrow-head, men were few and feeble, and the wild beasts had no cause to fear extermination. Tooth, claw and horn were about as formidable as the clumsy and inadequate weapons of man. The wild species went on developing naturally, and some mighty hosts were the result.
But gunpowder changed all that. In the chase it gave weak men their innings beside the strong. Man could kill at long range, with little danger to himself, or even with none at all. And then in the wild beast world the great final struggle for existence began. Man's flippant phrase,—"the survival of the fittest,"— became charged with sinister and deadly meaning.
But for Mother Love among wild creatures, species would not multiply, and the earth soon would become depopulated. In the entire Deer Family of the world, the annual shedding of all horns is Nature's tribute to motherhood in the herd. A buck deer or a bull moose is a domineering master—so long as his antlers remain upon his head. But with the approach of fawn-bearing time in the herd, down they go. I have seen a bull elk stand with humbly lowered head, and gaze reproachfully upon his fallen antlers. The dehorned buck not only no longer hectors and drives the females, but in fear of hurting his tender new velvet stubs he keeps well away from the front hoofs of the cows. The calves grow up quite safe from molestation within the herd.
It may be set down as a basic truth that all vertebrate animals are ready to defend their homes and their young against all enemies that do not utterly outclass them in size and strength. Of course we do not expect the pygmy to try conclusions with the giant, but at the same time, wild creatures have their own queer ways of defense and counter-attack, and of matching superior cunning against superior force. But now, throughout the animal world, the fear of man is paramount. Nearly all the wild ones have learned it. It is only the enraged, the frightened or the cornered bear, lion, tiger or elephant that charges the Man with a Gun, and seeks to counter upon him with fang and claw before it drops. The deadly supremacy of the repeating rifle that kills big game at half a mile, and the pump shotgun that gets five geese out of a flock, are well recognized by the terrorized big game and small game that flies before the sweeping pestilence of machine guns and automobiles.
THE FIGHTING CANADA GOOSE. In essaying to illustrate the home defense spirit, my memory goes out to one truculent and fearless Canada goose whose mate elected to nest in a horribly exposed spot on the east bank of our Wild-Fowl Pond. The location was an error in judgment. As soon as the nest was finished and the eggs laid therein, the goose took her place upon the collection, and the gander mounted guard.
There were so many hostiles on the warpath that he was kept on the qui vive during all daylight hours. At a radius of about twenty feet he drew an imaginary dead-line around the family nest, and no bird, beast or man could pass that line without a fight. If any other goose, or a swan or duck, attempted to pass, the guardian gander would rush forward with blazing eyes, open beak, wings open for action, and with distended neck hiss out his challenge. If the intruder failed to register respect, and came on, the gander would seize the offender with his beak, and furiously wing-beat him into flight. That gander was afraid of nothing, and his courage and readiness to fight all comers, all day long, caused visitors to accord him full recognition as a belligerent power.
THE CASE OF THE LAUGHING GULL. About that same time, a pair of laughing gulls had the temerity to build a nest on the ground in the very storm centre of the great Flying Cage. Daily and hourly they were surrounded by a truculent mob of pelicans, herons, ibises, storks, egrets and ducks, the most of whom delighted in wrecking households. The keepers sided with the gulls by throwing around their nest a wire entanglement, with a sally-port at one side for the use of the beleaguered pair.
The voice of an angry or frightened laughing gull is it [sic] owner's chief defense. The female sat on her nest and shrieked out her shrill and defiant war cry of "Kah! kah, kah, kah!" The male took post just outside the sally-port, where he postured and screamed and threatened until we wondered why he did not burst with superheated emotion. I am sure that never before did two small gulls ever raise so much racket in so short a time and their cage-mates must have found it rather trying.
The gulls hatched their eggs, they reared their young successfully, and at last peace was restored.
A Mother Antelope Fights Off an Eagle. Mr. Howard Eaton, of Wolf, Wyoming, once saw a female prong-horned antelope put up a strong and successful fight in defense of her newly-born fawn. A golden eagle, whose spring specialty is for fawns, kids and lambs, was seen to swoop swiftly down toward a solitary antelope that had been noticed on a treeless range beside the Little Missouri. It quickly became evident that the eagle was after an antelope fawn. As the bird swooped down toward the mother, and endeavored to seize her fawn in its talons, the doe rose high on her hind legs, and with her forelegs flying like flails struck with her sharp- pointed hoofs again and again. Her blows went home, and feathers were seen to fly from the body of the marauder.
The doe made good her defense. The eagle was glad to escape, and as quickly as possible pulled himself together and flew away.
The Defensive Circle of the Musk-Ox. Several arctic explorers have described the wonderful living-ring defense, previously mentioned, of musk-ox herds against wolves. Mr. Paul Rainey's moving pictures have shown it to us in thrilling detail, with Eskimo dogs instead of wolves. When a musk-ox herd is attacked by the big and deadly arctic white wolves, the bulls and adult cows herd the calves and young stock into a compact group, then take their places shoulder to shoulder around them in a perfect circle, and with lowered heads await the onset. The sharp down-and-up curved horn of the musk-ox is a deadly weapon against all the dangerous animals of the North, except man.
When a wolf approaches near and endeavors to make a breach in the circle, the musk-ox nearest him tries to get him, and will even rush out of the line for a short and brief pursuit. But the bull does not pursue more than twenty yards or so, for fear of being surrounded alone and cut off. At the end of his usually futile run, back he goes and carefully backs into his place in the first line of defense. A charging bull does not rush out far enough that the wolves can cut him off and kill him. He is much too wise for that.
Mr. Stefansson says that the impregnability of the musk-ox defense is so well recognized by the wolves of the North that often a pack will march past a herd in close proximity without offering to attack it, and without even troubling the herd to form the hollow circle.
A Savage Wild Boar. I once had a "fight" with a captive Japanese wild boar, under conditions both absurd and tragic, and from it I learned the courage and fury of such animals. The animal was large, powerful, fearfully savage toward every living thing, and insanely courageous. It was confined in a yard enclosed by a strong wire fence, and while we were all very sure that the fence would hold it, I became uneasy. In mid-afternoon I went alone to the spot, passing hundreds of school children on the way, to study the situation. When I reached the front of the corral and stood still to look at the fence, the boar immediately rushed for me. He came straight on, angry and terrible, and charged the wire like a living battering-ram. He repeated these charges until I became fearful of an outbreak, and decided to try to make him afraid to repeat them. Procuring from the bear dens, a pike pole with a stout spike in the end, I received the next charge with a return thrust meant to puncture both the boar's hide and his understanding. He backed off and charged more furiously than ever, with white foam flying from his jaws.
He cared nothing for his punishment. He charged until his snout bled freely, and the fence bulged at the strain.
Then I became regularly scared! I feared that the savage beast would break through the fence in spite of its strength, and run amuck among those helpless children. I "beat it" back to my office, hurried back with one of my loaded rifles, and without losing a second put a bullet through that raging brain and ended that danger forever.
The Overrated Peccary. This reminds me that the collared peccary has been credited with a degree of courage that has been much exaggerated. While a hunted and cornered peccary will fight dogs or men, and put up a savage and dangerous defense, men whom I know in the peccary belt of Mexico have assured me that a drove of peccaries will not attack a hunter who has killed one of their mates, nor keep him up a tree for hours while they swarm underneath him waiting for his blood. I have been assured by competent witnesses that in peccary hunting there is no danger whatever of mass attack through a desire for revenge, and that peccaries fired at will run like deer.
A Black Bear Killed a Man for Food. There is on record at least one well-authenticated case of a black bear deliberately going out of his way to cross a river, attack a man and kill him.
On May 17, 1907, at a lumber camp of the Red Deer Lumber Company, thirty miles south of Etiomami on the Canadian Northern Railway, Northwest Territory, a cook named T. Wilson was chased by a large black bear, without provocation, struck once on the head, and instantly killed. The bear then picked him up, carried him a short distance, and proceeded to eat him. Ten shots from a .32 calibre revolver had no effect. Later a rifle ball drove the bear away, but only after it had eaten the left thigh and part of the body. (Forest and Stream, Feb. 8, 1908.)
The Status of the Gray Wolf. In America wolves rarely succeed in killing men, although they often follow men's trails in the hope of spoil of some kind. But there are exceptions.
In 1912, around Lake Nipigon, Province of Ontario, Canada, there existed a reign of terror from wolves. The first man killed was a half-breed mail-carrier. Then, in December, another mail-carrier, who was working the lumber camps north of Lake Nipigon, was killed by wolves and completely devoured. The snow showed a terrible struggle, in which four large wolves had been killed by the carrier.