CHAPTER VIITHE PUMA AND THE JAGUAR—TWO FIERCE ENEMIES—A STRANGE ATTACHMENT—A NIGHT ON THE PAMPAS—THE STORY OF MALDONADA.
THE PUMA AND THE JAGUAR—TWO FIERCE ENEMIES—A STRANGE ATTACHMENT—A NIGHT ON THE PAMPAS—THE STORY OF MALDONADA.
But the greatest enemy that either the prairie-dog or the bizcacha has to contend with, is not the fox or the rattlesnake, but the dreaded puma or cougar, next to the jaguar the largest and most formidable animal of the cat tribe that lives on the American continent. It seems strange that a creature which kills horses and cows, as well as the wild huanaco, the tapir, deer, and American ostrich, should think of anything so small as a bizcacha or prairie-dog, but the puma will kill not only these, but even small birds, and the burrowing armadillo if he happens to come across it. More curious still, the dreaded jaguar, which one might have thought secure from every enemy except man, is attacked and vanquished by the puma. I have not heard of its being killed by him, indeed, nor should I think that possible, since if the two came to a grapple the jaguar would certainly be the stronger. What the puma does is to leap on the jaguar’s back, claw him savagely, and then spring off again, before the tormented beast has hadtime to do anything—for the puma is ever so much quicker and more active, though not so strong as the jaguar.
Why the puma should act thus I cannot tell, but both the Indians and the half-breed Gauchos of the pampas tell the same story, and as jaguars are often killed that have their backs all over claw-marks, I suppose it must be true—unless they have done it to one another. This does, indeed, seem possible, and if it were only the male jaguars that were found with their backs in this state I should look upon it as the explanation. But there is no distinction of this sort, as far as I know, so I think it must be pumas, for a male jaguar would not fight with a female one, nor would the females be likely to fight together. The curious thing is that in that part of America where there are no jaguars, but where the grizzly bear is found, the puma is said to attack this huge and powerful beast—so that we have the same kind of story told by quite different people, separated from each other by an immense tract of country. Just as with the jaguar, the puma is supposed always to come off victorious in his encounters with the grizzly, and it is even said that the latter is sometimes killed by him. I must confess, however, that I find this very difficult to believe. The puma is immensely agile, and, like others of the cat tribe, very muscular in proportion to its size. But a full-grown grizzly bear is twice as large and twice as heavy as itself, and its strength must be in proportion. How, then, does the slight-built puma overpower and kill so ponderous an animal, clad in a shaggy coat of fur? Once seized by thegrizzly I think it would have no chance, but it is possible, perhaps, that by springing on its back and wrenching its head suddenly round, it might be able to dislocate the neck, as it does that of a horse. That, indeed, is the puma’s usual method of attack, and we must remember that, strength for strength, a horse of any size is almost as much its superior as the grizzly bear itself. So perhaps, after all, the thing is not quite so unlikely as it, at first sight, appears. The wonderful thing is that the puma should attack such animals as bears and jaguars, instead of confining itself to the more timid and peaceable creatures of the browsing kind, as do most beasts of prey.
A Bear Beset by Wild Swine.A wild pig, which had been seized by a bear, rescued by its comrades.
A Bear Beset by Wild Swine.A wild pig, which had been seized by a bear, rescued by its comrades.
A Bear Beset by Wild Swine.
A wild pig, which had been seized by a bear, rescued by its comrades.
But if this be wonderful, what are we to say of another trait or quality, in which this strange creature seems to stand alone amongst wild animals. It almost reads like a fable, but it really does seem to be true that the puma, fierce as he is, has yet a strange affection for mankind, and that not only will he not attack a man himself, but will even prevent other animals from doing so. There is a story told by the Gauchos of a man who, whilst hunting on the pampas, had his leg broken by a fall from his horse, and was left out all night. During the whole time he was guarded, as it seemed, by a puma, who, when a jaguar drew near to attack him, as he thought, sprang upon it, and prevented it from doing so. All through the night the puma and jaguar fought about the man, sometimes so near that he could see their shadowy forms through the darkness, whilst at other times their presence and actions were betrayed only by the fierce sounds whichissued from them. These, on the part of the jaguar, consisted of growls and roars, but the puma has a peculiar yelling cry which, in itself, is still more terrible, and comes full of fear to all who do not know its habits. For this dreadful sound the Gaucho kept listening, and when it rang out, loud and shrill, he hailed it as an assurance that the puma was victorious, or, at least, holding its own, and took courage accordingly. But when it sank, or seemed choked and muffled, then his heart sank with it, and nervously grasping his long, curved knife—the only weapon that remained to him—he sat each moment expecting the jaguar’s spring, till once more that thrilling cry—raised as in triumph—cheered his spirits, filling him with hope. The sweetest music—from his wife’s or children’s lips perhaps—had never fallen so sweetly on his ears as did that savage sound. So much, in this world, are we the creatures of circumstance, and so much are things what they mean for us! This dreadful alternation of hope and fear, or rather of fear relieved by hope, or weighted with despair, continued till the dawn of morning, when both the beasts disappeared, the combat apparently having had no decisive issue. The man was confident that he owed his life to the puma, which, as he further related, had appeared first upon the scene, and sat for some time near him, though without appearing to notice him. It was not till after midnight that he first saw the jaguar, which was crouching only a little way off, but with its head turned in the opposite direction. Doubtless it was watching the puma, for shortly afterwards, when it had crawled farther off and had becomeinvisible, the dreadful sounds of strife rose suddenly out of the darkness of the night.
There can be little doubt, I think, that the jaguar would have seized and devoured the Gaucho had it not been for the puma; but it does not, therefore, follow that the puma, knowingly and of set purpose, protected the man. As its enemy, he would have been likely to attack the jaguar in any case, and if we suppose the latter to have kept all night near the man, because it wished to attack him, this would account for the fighting having been always near him, too, instead of the scene of it having gradually shifted; for the puma would have stayed where the jaguar was, in order to fight with it. We have, of course, only the Gaucho’s word for the truth of his story; but I think myself that if he had been romancing he would have made up a very different one, containing much more varied incidents, wherein he himself would have played a much more considerable part. It looks to me like a true tale, but, as I say, it does not quite prove that the puma stayed by the man all night, in order to take care of him. His strange love of man might have brought him there at first, and then all the rest would have followed as it did. That for some reason or other, perhaps to do with his scent—we must remember how fond cats are of valerian—the puma really does like man, and becomes quite mild in his presence, can hardly,[5]I think, be doubted. All the Gauchos and all the Indians—the two races of men that come most in contact with the animal—assert that such is the case, and the veryname which the Gauchos give to the puma is “El amigo del hombre” (“the friend of man”). They say that not only will it never attack man, but that, if attacked by him, it will allow itself to be slaughtered without making any resistance. Why should they assert things so unlikely in themselves, and which are in such contrast with the known character of the puma where other animals are concerned, and especially in regard to the jaguar, if they were not the actual truth? The Spaniards, when they first came to America, were not prepared for anything of the sort, and if they had wished to invent they would have been much more likely to have invented tales of the puma’s fierceness, and of their own skill and courage in hunting it. Perhaps they did at first, but gradually the truth became manifest, so that such stories no longer “went down,” as we say. Instances of the puma’s strange attachment to mankind became more and more numerous, until at last the matter ceased even to excite their wonder, as the strangest things do when once they have become familiar. Now, in South America at least, the fact is notorious, and notoriety, here as elsewhere, ought, I think, to be accepted as proof. Moreover, nobody has the slightest fear of the puma. There is no record of men having been seized by it, as they often are, or, at least, as they often used to be, by the jaguar, and even if a little girl or boy happens to be out on a dark night, nobody is alarmed, if only pumas are supposed to be about. When the Gaucho we have been reading about told his strange story, nobody disbelieved him, or even thought it was anything very remarkable. If, however, ithad been told in early colonial days, before the Spaniards had left a race of half-breed descendants, whose life is always bringing them into contact with wild animals, and who are familiar with all their ways, in that case it would either have been discredited or else put down to a miracle. Whether the story of Maldonada, as told by the old Spanish chronicler, Rui Diaz de Guzman, is true or false, and whether, if true, it is in the nature of a miracle or not, I will let my readers decide: but here it is.
In the early days of the Spanish conquest, Buenos Ayres, which is now a large and beautiful city, the capital of the Argentine Republic, was only a small town, with a fort and some soldiers to guard it, and in the year 1536 it was besieged by the Indians, so that, the provisions being exhausted, a terrible famine set in. Eighteen hundred people died of starvation, and the putrefying smell of their bodies, which were disposed of hastily in shallow trenches, only just outside the town, caused beasts to assemble from the surrounding country, so that the risk of being devoured by them was added to that of death at the hands of the Indians, for any who might venture beyond the palisades. Still, as the allowance of flour on which the survivors were living had shrunk to six ounces a day, whilst the flour itself had become almost putrid, there were many who were content to run both these risks for the chance of finding anything, either living or dead, which hunger might enable them to eat, in the woods surrounding the town. Amongst these was a young and beautiful woman named Maldonada, who, losing her way, and wandering amongst the woods, was at last taken bythe Indians, and received by them into their tribe. A few months afterwards, however, the governor of the town, a man named Ruiz, succeeded in ransoming her, and she was brought back.
A Gallant Wild Animal.For two whole nights an enormous puma defended the girl from the attacks of countless wild beasts.
A Gallant Wild Animal.For two whole nights an enormous puma defended the girl from the attacks of countless wild beasts.
A Gallant Wild Animal.
For two whole nights an enormous puma defended the girl from the attacks of countless wild beasts.
Little good, however, was intended to Maldonada by this act. Upon her arrival Ruiz accused her of having wished to betray the town to the Indians, and, in expiation of this imaginary crime, ordered her to be taken again to the forest, tied to a tree, and left either to starve, or be devoured by any ravenous beast that might see her. The cruel command was punctually obeyed, and Maldonada, bound and helpless, was left to her terrible fate. At the end of two days, the Governor, wishing to have his ears gratified with an assurance of her death, sent a body of soldiers to seek for her remains. They found Maldonada herself, alive and uninjured, and the story she told was the same as that of the Gaucho left helpless, all night, on the pampas. An enormous puma, she said, had appeared soon after sunset, on the day that she had been left to die, and during the whole of that night and the following one, had guarded her against the assaults of numberless savage beasts that had raged around. God, she thought, had sent the puma to protect her, knowing her innocence; and this was the view that the soldiers, sent to find her, took too, as did also the townspeople, and, at last, the Governor, Ruiz, himself. Maldonada, on being taken back, was proclaimed innocent, and the war with the Indians being shortly brought to a close, she lived the rest of her life in happiness and prosperity. Whether she thought kindly of pumas everafterwards, and always wore a mantle made of their skins in recognition of the service one had done her, I do not know; but were this recorded of her, I should see no reason to doubt the truth of the statement. The old chronicler who tells the story says that he knew Maldonada; but, instead of telling us anything more about her, he contents himself with making an obvious, poor pun upon her name. From this we may, perhaps, infer that, except when helped by a puma, she was not a very interesting person.