THE LEOPARD AND PANTHER
Thoseconflicting opinions we have thus far seen expressed upon the habits and characters of wild beasts, are not replaced by any unanimity upon the part of those who have described leopards and panthers. They have a less voluminous literature than the lion or elephant, but their temper and traits are disputed about in every particular, and even the place they occupy in nature.
The only difference between a panther and a leopard is one of size; or as G. P. Sanderson (“Thirteen Years among the Wild Beasts of India”) expresses it, the distinction is the same as that existing between a “horse and a pony.” Dr. Jerdon (“Mammals of India”) states that they are merely “varieties ofFelis pardus,” and if the species-making mania were not so prevalent, one might wonder at men who constantly met with these creatures in Asia and Africa, and yet wrote about them as if they belonged to distinct groups, and had very little in common.
THE LEOPARD.[From a photograph by Gambier Bolton. Copyright.]
THE LEOPARD.[From a photograph by Gambier Bolton. Copyright.]
THE LEOPARD.
[From a photograph by Gambier Bolton. Copyright.]
Major H. A. Leveson (“Sport in Many Lands”) thus describes the panther: “This animal frequently measures eight feet in length from its nose to the end of its tail. It has a well-defined, bony ridge along the centre of its skull for the attachment of the muscles of the neck, which is notnoticeable in the leopard or cheetah. The skin, which shines like silk, and is of a rich tawny or orange tan above and white underneath, is marked with seven rows of rosettes, each consisting of an assemblage of black spots, in the centre of which the tawny or fulvous ground of the coat shows distinctly through the black. Its extremities are marked with horseshoe-shaped or round black spots. Few animals can surpass the panther in point of beauty, and none in elegance or grace. His every motion is easy and flexible in the highest degree; he bounds among the rocks and woods with an agility truly surprising—now stealing along the ground with the silence of a snake, now crouching with his fore-paws extended and his head laid between them, while his chequered tail twitches impatiently, and his pale, gooseberry eyes glare mischievously upon his unsuspecting victim.” Captain J. H. Baldwin (“Large and Small Game of Bengal”) writes in much the same strain upon the specific differences between these varieties, and he is at a loss to understand how Dr. Jerdon and Mr. Blyth, Captain Hodgson and Sir Walter Elliot, can regard panthers and leopards as of the same species. The difference between their skulls—that of the leopard’s being oval, while the panther’s is round—is, he asserts, “of itself conclusive evidence upon this disputed question;” and besides that, “the two animals altogether differ from one another in size and character.”
Technical discussions have been avoided so far as it was possible to do so, but here it seems necessary to say briefly that head-measurements as a basis for classification, whether among beasts or men, have always failed;also that developed ridges and processes are for the most part merely concomitants of more massive skulls in larger animals whose muscles are of greater size; and that bulk by itself means very little, and varies in most cases very much. Finally, the coat-markings, in their minor details, of all animals whose skins are variegated, constantly differ in the same species. AmongFelidæone scarcely sees two lions with like manes, or two tigers with identical stripes. As for the spotted or rosetted groups, their spots not only vary in members of specific aggregates, but even upon different sides of the same creature’s body.
Lockington (“Riverside Natural History”) states that “the leopard (including both varieties ofFelis pardusunder this term) is very variable in size and color.” Stanley, Emin Pasha (Dr. Schnitzer), and Hissman speak of those in Somali-land as much larger than any others in Africa, yet it is certain that there is but one true species now extant, and that this includes those forms already spoken of, together with the snow leopard of the Himalayas, the long-furred, ring-marked, bushy-tailed variety of Manchuria and Corea, and the “black tiger” of India and the Malasian Archipelago, which is nothing but a panther with its colors reversed,—a “sport,” as G. A. R. Dawson (“Nilgiri Sporting Reminiscences”) calls it, and which according to him is “of a uniform dull black color, with its spots (of a fulvous tint) showing in particular lights.” Colonel A. C. McMaster proved that these dark cubs had been found in litters having the usual coloration. General Hamilton demonstrated the same thing, and Colonel Pollok (“Natural History Notes”) states that “the blackpanther, which is very common towards Mergeri and Tavay, is only alusus naturæ.” He himself “saw a female panther near Shoaydung, with two cubs, one black and one spotted.”
The “snow leopard” is very little known on account of the solitary and inaccessible regions it inhabits. “It is the rarest event,” says Colonel F. Markham (“Shooting in the Himalayas”), “to see one, though it roams about apparently as much by day as by night. Even the shepherds who pass the whole of the summer months, year after year, in the area where it lives, that is to say, above the forests where there is little or no cover ... seldom see one.... It is surprising and unaccountable how it eludes observation.” He describes its ground color as being of a dingy white, with faint yellowish-brown markings, and represents the animal to be considerably smaller than its congeners of the hot country below. Captain Baldwin, however, saw a skin as large as a panther’s. This was “of a light gray color, with irregular black spots. There was a black line running lengthways over the hind quarters, the hair was long on the neck, and the tail was remarkably long, ringed with black, and black at the tip.”
An animal of the same species, and very like this, is confined to the equatorial belt of Africa. It is as rare as the “snow leopard,” and has only been seen once or twice. Andersson (“Lake N’gami”) reports that the “maned leopard” was mistaken by him for a lion. This name is a translation of the native title—N’gulula, and Leslie, who knew more about it than any one else, states that “acub is gray, light, and furry.... The half-grown one, gray also, but the spots are faintly distinguishable. In the full-grown animal they are perfectly plain, but very dirty and undefined. There is also a peculiar gray hog mane.” W. H. Drummond (“Large Game and Natural History of Southern Africa”) also met with the N’gulula, and he, like Andersson, thought at first that it was a small lion, which it greatly resembled “in shape and color.”
We may now turn from the varieties ofFelis pardusand their external characteristics, to an investigation of those traits which have become organized in them during the long course of ages in which they have become specialized, physically and mentally, for a predatory life.
To know what an animal of this kind feeds on, and how it takes its prey, is also to know much about its structure, temper, and disposition. Neither lions nor tigers find the game upon which they subsist in trees, and the latter, therefore, rarely climb, while there is no account of the former having been seen to do so.
With the panther and leopard this is quite different. There are no climbers more expert than these beasts. As the Panama chief said to the explorer Oxenham, “Everything that has blood in it is food”; to these animals many things without blood, or at least without red blood, are food, for they eat the larva of insects, insects themselves, and birds’ eggs; likewise many fowls, from the splendid peacock to a common crow, which, as Sir Samuel Baker remarks, “lives by his wits, and is one of the cleverest birds in creation.” The panther preys on deer more commonly than any other kind of game, although it destroys reptiles, rodents, etc.,and wild pigs in great numbers. Perhaps a wild boar, the “grim gray tusker” of Anglo-Indian tales and hunting songs, “laughs at a panther,” as General Shakespear (“Wild Sports of India”) declares. But all the weaker members of his race become victims to this spotted robber’s partiality for pork. Monkeys, too, from the sacred Hanuman down through all secular grades, are eaten with avidity by these animals, and they kill great quantities of them despite their cunning. There is nothing alive of which monkeys are so much afraid.
Both leopards and panthers can endure thirst much better than tigers, and the latter are cave-dwellers to a greater extent than any of the largerFelidæ. They only drink once in twenty-four hours, and always at night. Their retreats lie amid low, arid, rocky hills covered with underbrush, traversed by gullies whose sides have been washed out into recesses by floods, and their rocks worn away into caves by weathering or percolation. They are much more active and energetic than their striped relatives, can better endure fatigue, and are, as a rule, bolder and more enterprising.
It is very far from being a fact, however, that “the habits of leopards are invariably the same”; that is an error into which Sir Samuel Baker was betrayed by the doctrine of instinct, and which has likewise been shared by nearly every other writer upon natural history. There is a certain sameness in the behavior of such creatures, as there is in that of all classes of animals leading similar lives; but this is as much as it is possible to say. In some localities, for example, the panther is strictly nocturnal; inothers it appears that he hunts during the day nearly as much as at night. In no instance is he an organic machine. Far from it; this prowling marauder is the fiercest and most adventurous of wild beasts, astute to a degree, capable of using every faculty to its fullest extent, well able to take care of itself, and fatally skilful in compassing the destruction of others; a being in every way qualified to design and execute its projects, to achieve all those ends which courage and cunning enable it to attain, and quite fit to meet the ordinary emergencies that may arise during the perpetration of its acts of rapine and bloodshed.
The panther’s cry—Gérard (“Journal des Chasseurs”) calls it a “scream”—is often heard upon Indian hillsides when darkness begins to obscure the scene. Captain Baldwin describes it as a harsh, measured coughing sound, without much timbre or resonance, rather flat, in fact, and not at all like the roar of that animal it most resembles,—the American jaguar. Like most of theFelidæ, this species commonly gives tongue upon leaving its lair, or, at least, has been frequently reported as doing so. This is not a point of much moment, but it is a matter of considerable importance to the inhabitants of any village that may lie in the neighborhood, whether that ominous voice dies away in the forest, or appears to be approaching their dwellings. When a panther takes to man-eating, Colonel Pollok (“Sport in British Burmah”) and Captain James Forsyth (“The Highlands of Central India”) assert, “he is far worse than a tiger.” Certainly, no records of such desperate ferocity exist in the case of any other creature of the cat kind; no other is reported to have taken like risksor to have succeeded in its fatal enterprises in the face of equal difficulties.
It is to be taken into consideration that a panther very rarely exceeds eight feet from tip to tip, or weighs more than a hundred and seventy pounds. Several writers have said that this animal’s powers of offence are scarcely inferior to those of the tiger; nevertheless, nothing is more certain than the fact that with all its great strength, its exceeding activity, and formidable armature, a panther cannot stand before a tiger for a moment. It cannot overwhelm a man instantly, bite him through the body, or crush his life out with a single blow; and yet, unless like the superstitious people whom this fell beast destroys, we can imagine demons becoming incarnated to scourge humanity, nothing more terrible and deadly than a man-eater of this class can be conceived of. Captain Forsyth thus sketches a famous panther of the Seoni district, which he was in charge of when those scenes alluded to occurred. “This brute killed, incredible as it may seem, nearly a hundred people before he was shot by a shikári. He never ate the bodies, but merely lapped the blood from the throat. His plan was, either to steal into a house at night and strangle some sleeper on his bed, stifling any outcry with his deadly grip, or to climb into the high platforms on which watchers guard their fields from deer, etc., and drag his victim thence. He was not to be balked of his prey, and when driven off from one side of a village, would hasten round to the opposite side, and secure another person in the confusion. A few moments accomplished his murderous work, and such was the devilish cunning he joined to hisextraordinary boldness, that all attempts to find and shoot him were for many months unsuccessful. European sportsmen who went out, after hunting him in vain, would often find his tracks close to their tent doors in the morning.”
It is about time that the usual explanation given for this kind of exceptional conduct upon the part of a beast of prey by those writers who think it necessary to allude to their character, otherwise than in general terms, was banished from descriptive natural history. The course of thought upon the natural relations which subsist between men and brutes, seems to run somewhat in this wise. At sometime, somewhere, and somehow, all inferior denizens of this earth were made to appreciate and fear human superiority. That impression was transmitted as an instinct, and is in full force now. When, therefore, a predatory animal does such violence to its nature as to eat a man, the shock, which according to conventional ideas always attends great crime, unhinges its mind. A kind of madness ensues. It becomes wild, and is driven by Furies like an ancient Greek guilty of sacrilege, or early Christians who, as reported by Gregory the Great and many others, had swallowed devils. Instantaneous change of character is the consequence, and the creature henceforth thinks, feels, and conducts itself in a new and terrible manner.
That is about the sum and substance of most statements bearing upon this subject, and there is not the slightest foundation in fact for any of them. This question has been considered in the abstract; but with regard to the panther’scharacter the truth is that, in the way stated, no respect for mankind is discoverable in his conduct. It is indeed notoriously otherwise; and this is nowhere more clearly shown than in the records of observations made by men who were convinced that all species of wild beasts instinctively feared them. “The Old Shekarry” (Major Leveson) writes (“Hunting-Grounds of the Old World”) to this effect: “Panthers, like all forest creatures ... are afraid of man, never voluntarily intruding upon his presence, and invariably beating a retreat if they can do so unmolested.” Then this authority goes on to tell what he has learned about panthers in the course of an experience rarely equalled for extent and variety. They are “more courageous than the tiger.... The panther often attacks men without provocation.” When one “takes to cattle-lifting or man-eating he is a more terrible scourge than a tiger, insomuch as he is more daring and cunning.” He relates how this timid creature that never voluntarily obtrudes himself upon human presence, fights hunters on all occasions; how the beast broke into his own camps, carried off dogs that were tied to his tent pole, and much more to the same effect.
There is no difficulty in finding exploits of the same kind; Rice, Inglis, Forsyth, Barras, Shakespear, Pollok, Baker, Colonel Walter Campbell, who saw the man riding next him in a party of horsemen, torn out of his saddle, or Colonel Davidson moving with a column of troops around whose encampments the sentinels had to be doubled to prevent panthers from killing them, all tell the same story.
“The tiger is an abject coward,” and so is the lion. Panthers are audacious, but they run away upon instinct, like Falstaff. No qualifications, no reservations, are made, no middle ground is taken, only a series of facts is given, which prove, so far as anything in this connection can be said to be proved, the incorrectness of what was insisted upon in the first place.
The opinion that a wild beast that has tasted human blood is thereby metamorphosed morally, “undergoes a transformation of emotional psychology,” as Professor Romanes expresses it, scarcely deserves a serious refutation. There is not the slightest reason why any such change of character should take place, and of course it does not. But the fact of a wild beast’s taking to man-eating is a sufficient cause for an alteration in habit. What modifies the animal then, however, is not the fact of killing a man, but the discovery of the ease with which he can be destroyed. Under these circumstances the brute simply substitutes one kind of game for another; it becomes used to the feeble attempts at opposition met with, and goes on with its murders. Where the state of affairs is different, where people are ready to combine against such scourges, to anticipate their designs, pursue, circumvent, and slay them, these beasts of prey do not devour men; they keep as far from them as possible.
It is doubtful if it could be shown that panthers are more prone to anthropophagous habits than other brutes, but the evidence is strongly in favor of the fact that they fight human beings more readily. Their ferocity and hardihood are exceptional among theFelidæ.
The panther described by Forsyth set at naught quite a number of favorite theories. His conduct was indeed very different from that which might have been expected if the main features of character common to his family are like those which are said to exist. The relations of cause and effect were not set aside for his benefit, and therefore, instead of being at once prepared to do the things he is known to have accomplished, there must have been some period of preparation. Of all things it is the most improbable that this animal set out on an expedition at haphazard. Perception, foresight, comprehension, judgment, resource, were not suddenly conferred upon him when he arrived at his destination and taken away when he left. He must have added observation and training to his innate qualities. How easily or to what extent this was done we cannot decide; for to imagine that a wild beast could come out of the forest, and instantly become an experienced master of an entirely new set of circumstances and have the ability to take advantage of every opportunity and overcome all opposition, is preposterous; is nothing less than to suppose an effect without a cause. The brute in question gave terribly convincing proofs that it understood the situation in its entirety, and how this could have been the case unless it was known, in what way known without being learned, and how learned without a mind passing through ordinary processes, does not appear.
To isolate the traits of an animal and consider them separately is a mistake. It is to fall into the same error that Stallo and the transcendental school in physics have made with reference to the attributes of matter. Theseabstractions of the mind are not identical with realities in nature. They cannot be studied by themselves without distorting the subject to be represented. Compared with that of other great cats the panther’s conduct shows that he is braver than the rest. But this is only an empirical conclusion and throws little light upon the animal’s character. We are not in a position, however, to analyze this in such a way as to show the relative development of its traits, or to say how far excess in one direction alters the general disposition.
So far as the brute’s behavior goes, the following narrative will be found to bear upon several points that have been discussed. Colonel Barras (“India and Tiger Hunting”) had pitched his camp in the Murree jungles, and it was crowded with the usual supernumerary attendants, together with elephants, gharry bullocks, horses, and dogs. One night as he and his companions—Messrs. Sandford and Franks—lay upon their camp beds in the deep slumber that follows a hard day’s work, they were awakened by “a furious roaring.” It appears that a panther had come among them, and seized upon a pet dog belonging to the Colonel then tied to his tent pole.
The brute, finding that it was impossible to carry off his prey, became enraged. Everybody turned out, and the panther made off in the midst of the hubbub. But his visit was looked upon as a challenge, and they resolved to postpone any further proceedings against tigers in that vicinity, until this marauder had been hunted. Orders to that effect were issued to the head shikári, and that worthy acted upon them with such success as to report nextmorning that the trackers had marked him down. “After the usual hot march of three or four miles,” says Colonel Barras, “we came upon the chief shikári, who was speedily to place us face to face with our hidden foe. On arriving at the scene of action, we found that the panther had taken up his quarters on a steep hillside which was much more thickly covered with cactus plant than usual. The top of the hill was flat ... and devoid of cover. The last short rise up this eminence was so steep that a line of beaters had drawn themselves up in tolerable safety all along the crest, prepared to hurl showers of rocks and stones down the declivity, should the panther take an upward course. All of them, however, then maintained an immovable attitude and a profound silence, whilst in a whisper scarcely to be heard, our guide pointed out the exact bush in which the enemy was said to be concealed. We divided the distance around it, and gradually closed in towards the centre of attraction, till not more than five or six yards separated us from the place.... Here we paused in circumspection; no sound struck upon the ear, nor did so much as a leaf quiver a warning to the eye. But though invisible to us, we felt that the animal was aware of our presence, and that its eyes were fixed upon us as it crouched for a spring.”
Still the panther remained quiet, “and whilst the party were discussing various projects, my dog keeper asked permission to ascend the slope of the amphitheatre on which we were standing, so that he might join the line of beaters on the ridge above. Permission was given, but he was strictly enjoined to make a circuit round the tractof bushes, to enter which would have been dangerous. He had not gone many yards, however, when with true native perversity he struck well into the middle of the cover, and stumbled right upon the panther, which to his no small dismay sprang from a bush only a few feet in front of him.... The brute suddenly appeared before us, going at a great rate through the underbrush. As it flashed across a small open space we all took snap shots, none of which took effect, and the animal dashed into a deep ravine and disappeared.” Nothing now remained except to drive the game; that is to say, post the guns at a point where the beast would most probably attempt to break out, and cause the beaters to advance towards it. This was done, the signal given, and “the perfect stillness was instantly replaced by a wild shrieking, the rushing sound of falling rocks, and a waving about of people and herbage as though the whole mountain were about to slide into the valley beneath. No panther could resist such a pressing invitation to move as this was, and our friend accordingly started off at full gallop for other quarters,” which he again reached without being hit, and presently the report came that the game had taken refuge in a dense clump of cactus on top of the hill. While messengers were despatched for rockets to drive it out, the party agreed to take lunch, and the “tiffin basket” was placed on the shady side of that impenetrable cover where the panther lay.
“For a few moments,” continues Colonel Barras, “we sat quite still. Then it occurred to us to try and peep through into the centre of the mass of cactus to see if we couldmake out the whereabouts of its present occupant.... Not seeing anything, our thoughts reverted naturally to the basket. There it stood, just on the other side of Sandford. I stretched across him to reach it with my right hand, and had just grasped the handle, when a succession of short, savage roars broke upon my ears, mingled with the wild shouts of the natives, who were evidently being chased by the ferocious brute. At this time I felt that my hat would probably do more for me than my gun, so I crushed the former down on my head, seized the latter, and faced the enemy. The panther meanwhile had floored a beater and got him by the arm, but dropping him at once, came at me with lightning bounds. Owing to the beast’s tremendous speed, I could see nothing but a shadowy-looking form, with two large, round, bright eyes fixed upon me with an unmeaning stare as it literally flew towards me. Such was the vision of a moment.... I raised my gun and fired with all the care I could at such short notice, but I missed, and the panther bounded, light as a feather, with its arms around my shoulders. Thus we stood for a few seconds, and I distinctly felt the animal sniffing for my throat. Mechanically I turned my head so as to keep the thick-wadded cape of my helmet in front of the creature’s muzzle; but I could hear and feel plainly the rapid yet cautious efforts it was making to find an opening so as to tear the great vessels that lie in the neck. I had no other weapon but my gun, which was useless while the animal was closely embracing me, so I stood perfectly still, well knowing that Sandford would liberate me if it were possible to doso.... As may be supposed, the panther did not spend much time investigating the nature of a wadded hat-cover, and before my friend could get round, and fire without jeopardizing my life, the beast pounced upon my left elbow, taking a piece out, and then buried its long, sharp fangs in the joint till they met. At the same time I was hurled to the earth with such violence that I knew not how I got there, or what had become of my gun. I was lying on the ground with the panther on top of me, and could feel my elbow joint wobbling in and out as the beast ground its jaws with a movement imperceptible to the bystanders, but which felt to me as if I were being violently shaken all over. Now I listened anxiously for the sound of Sandford’s rifle, which I knew would be heard immediately, and carefully refrained from making the slightest sound or movement, lest his aim should be disturbed. In a few seconds the loud and welcome detonation, which from its proximity almost deafened me, struck upon my ear, and I sat up. I was free, and the panther had gone”—bounded away shot through the body with a heavy rifle ball, into an acacia and karinda thicket, from which it had to be driven by rockets.
“Just as the interior of the thicket became lighted up, and the crackling of the herbage was at its loudest, the animal roused to frenzy, by the overwhelming character of the attack, girded itself up for a last desperate effort.... It rushed from its now untenable hiding-place, swift and straight as an arrow upon Sandford and myself. He fired both barrels at the beast without stopping it in the least.” The Colonel, whose wounded arm had been bound up, nowcarried a hog spear. “We had only time,” he says, “to open out one pace from each other, and the momentum with which the animal was coming, almost carried it past us. As it brushed my right leg, however, I saw it twist its supple neck, and literally stop itself by clasping Sandford’s thigh in its extended jaws, bearing him to the ground, where they lay for a moment in a close embrace. I at once adjusted my spear behind the animal’s shoulder, and with a steady thrust drove it straight through the heart. Franks fired at the same instant, and it would be difficult to say which of us caused the panther to give up his last breath. It was dead though, yet it still retained the position it had in life, and its teeth were so firmly locked in the flesh of its foe, that I could not open the jaws with one hand—they felt like iron to the touch.”
There are a number of narratives of like import with this, but neither in these, nor in the accounts we have of conflicts with other wild beasts, has anything been said concerning the principle upon which they fight. Briefly, no brute deliberately engages in conflict without thinking that the advantage is altogether on its own side. They may be, and often are, mistaken, but brutes never fight fairly with intention. Only man does that, civilized not savage man, whose motives are such as other creatures know nothing about.
Inglis (“Work and Sport on the Nepaul Frontier”) relates an experience of his own with a leopard—it may as like as not have been what is here called a panther—that includes a good many points which have been touched upon,—themuch talked of eye power, this brute’s instinctive avoidance of man, etc.,—and it is therefore inserted by way of illustration.
“I was camped out at the village of Purimdaha, on the edge of a gloomy Sal forest, which was reported to contain numerous leopards. The villagers were a mixed lot of low-caste Hindus and Nepaulese settlers. They had been fighting with the factory, and would not pay up their rents, and I was trying, with every prospect of success, to make an amicable arrangement with them.... It was the middle of April. The heat was intense. The whole atmosphere had that coppery look that betokens extreme heat, and the air was loaded with a fine, yellow dust which the west wind bore on its fever-laden wings, to disturb the lungs and temper of all good Christians. TheKanats, or canvas walls of the tent, had all been taken down for the sake of coolness, and my camp bed lay in one corner, open all round to the outside air, and only sheltered from the dew. It had been a busy day. I had been going over accounts, and talking with the villagers until I was hoarse.
“After a light dinner I lay down on my bed, but it was too close and too hot to sleep. By and by the various sounds died out. The tom-toming ceased in the village. My servants suspended their low-muttered gossip around the cook’s fire, wrapped themselves in their white cloths, and dropped into slumber. Toby, Nettle, Whiskey, Pincher, and the other terriers looked like so many curled-up hairy balls, and were in the land of dreams. Occasionally a horned owl would give a melancholy hoot from the forest, or a screech owl raise a momentary and damnable din. Atintervals the tinkle of a cow-bell sounded faintly in the distance. I tossed restlessly, thinking of various things, till I must have sunk into an uneasy, fitful sleep. I know not how long I had been dozing, when of a sudden I felt myself wide awake, but with my eyes yet tightly closed.
“I was conscious of some terrible, unknown, impending danger. I had experienced the same thing before when waking from a nightmare, but I knew that the peril was now real. I felt a sinking horror, a terrible and nameless dread, and for the life of me I could not move hand or foot. I was lying on my side and could hear distinctly the thumpings of my own heart. A cold sweat broke out behind my ears, and over my neck and chest. I could analyze every feeling, and knew there was somePresencein the tent, and that I was in instant and imminent danger. Suddenly in the distance a pariah dog gave a prolonged melancholy howl. As if this had broken the spell that bound me, I opened my eyes, and within ten inches of my face there stood a handsome leopardess gazing steadily at me. Our eyes met, and how long we confronted each other I know not. It must have been for some moments. Her eyes contracted and expanded, the pupils elongated, and then opened out into a lustrous globe. I could see the lithe tail oscillating at its extreme tip with a gentle waving motion, like that of a cat when hunting birds in a garden.
“Just then there was a movement among the horses. The leopard slowly turned her head, and I grasped the revolver that lay under my pillow. The beautiful spotted monster turned her head for an instant, showed her teeth, and then with one bound went through the open side of thetent. I fired two shots, which were answered with a roar. The din that followed would have frightened the devil. It was a beautiful, clear night with a moon at the full, and everything showed as plainly as at noonday. My servants uttered exclamations of terror. The terriers went into an agony of yelps and barks. The horses snorted and tried to break loose, and my chowkeydar, who had been asleep on his watch, thinking a band of Dacoits had come upon us, began to lay about him with his staff, and shout, ‘Chor! Chor! lagga! lagga! lagga!’ that is, ‘thief! thief! lay on! lay on! lay on!’
“The leopard was hit, and was evidently in a terrible temper. She halted not thirty paces from the tent, beside a Shanum tree, and seemed undecided whether to go on or return and wreak her vengeance on me. That moment of hesitation decided her fate. I snatched down my Express rifle, which was hanging in two loops above my bed, and shot her right through the heart.
“I never understood how she could have made her way past dogs, servants, horses, and watchman, into the tent, without raising some alarm.”
Thus far, whether in courage, enterprise, and skill, whether in sagacity, or desperation of attack and defence, nothing has been found to traverse W. H. Lockington’s opinion (“Riverside Natural History”) to the effect that panthers, “relatively to their size, are the fiercest, strongest, and most terrible of beasts.”
In ancient Egypt and modern Abyssinia lions formed part of the royal paraphernalia. Marabouts lead around sacred animals of this species in North Africa, and if theyoccasionally kill somebody, the public in those parts understand that he was a sinner who deserved his fate. Leashed tigers also were not uncommon in the courts of Hindu rajahs, but since the time of the Indian Bacchus, whose car they drew, panthers have rarely appeared in parades. These savage brutes do not lend themselves to peaceful pageants. From all accounts they are the most intractable and untrustworthy of creatures—the least susceptible of instruction, says Sanderson (“Thirteen Years among the Wild Beasts of India”).
Panthers have often been seen associated in families, but they do not display what Professor Romanes calls “the collective instinct in hunting.” They can supply their needs without resorting to these manœuvres, and therefore have not formed the habit of practising them.
It sometimes happens thatFelis pardusin all its forms has to give up spoil. The lion takes its prey away, and so does the tiger. Occasionally some blundering, black rhinoceros comes upon the scene and puts the panther to flight, or a herd of wild hogs does the same.Kuon rutilans, the wild dog, is reported to be in the habit of appropriating their supplies, and J. Moray Brown (“Shikar Sketches”) states that he had personal knowledge of this fact. Upon the whole, however, the beast in question is not much molested.
Over-boldness is disadvantageous to any animal, and panthers suffer from their temerity in the way of getting trapped more frequently than other members of their family. General Morgan (“Memoirs”) remarks that “it is a very common thing to catch a panther,” but nobodyhas said the same of otherFelidæ. The difficulty lies in comparing these species so as to assign the phenomenon to its real cause. The question is, how does it happen that a panther walks into a pit more frequently than a tiger? It cannot be said that it is because the latter has the more intelligence; facts do not sustain such an explanation, and yet the absence of deliberation stands in a direct relation with incompleteness of mental development.
It might be argued that the dissimilarity was due to temperament, and that while neither could be absorbed by one idea—that of committing a murder, for instance—without some temporary disregard of everything else, the panther was more liable to this state of mind than its relative. In ordinary parlance such a tendency would be called courage, and its opposite timidity, although that is rather a loose manner of speaking. However the truth may be, there is no doubt that a tiger will often come up to a bait fixed over a pitfall, examine it carefully on every side, and finally walk off with that pleasant grin of his, while the panther precipitates himself into the cavity.
This beast is very partial to dog meat, and the canine population of countries where panthers abound have an abiding fear of them. Sir Samuel Baker (“The Rifle and Hound in Ceylon”) says that his dog “Smut,” who weighed a hundred and thirty pounds, and was “a cross between a Manilla bloodhound and some big bitch at the Cape,” made a practice of hunting leopards on his own account. This was a very unusual thing, however, since the largest breeds of the East, Poligar dogs and Tibetan mastiffs, would certainly be at a great disadvantage in such an encounter.While the latter was encamped upon the Settite River, an Abyssinian tributary of the White Nile, one of these animals sprang into the midst of a circle of men resting around a watch fire and carried off a dog. To invade a hunters’ camp on this kind of an errand is quite common with the panther, and many exploits of his under such circumstances have been put on record. In India the villanous pariahs that swarm in every village are his constant victims. If one of them goes into the jungle, there is apt to be a momentary scuffle in the dry grass, a stifled yelp, and the dog vanishes. So in rice fields and around cattle camps where the Gwallas build their temporary residences. Principally, however, the panther gets game of this kind from permanent settlements infested with “curs of low degree.” Panthers know them well, and act accordingly. During the night one approaches the outskirts of a village and so far reveals his presence as to show the dogs, who are always prowling about, that some strange animal is near. Now they in turn are well aware of the tricks that panthers play, but on the other hand can by no means resist their ingrained propensity to make a display of courage, which they probably possess in a less degree than any carnivora. As soon as these pariahs discover something that conceals itself, the idea which naturally takes possession of their minds is that this cautious conduct is due to a fear of themselves. The pack instantly darts forward, and stops. These brutes endeavor to get self-encouragement out of absurd antics; they leap, they howl, they ramp and rave, until one of them, more excitable than the rest, so far forgets itself as to approach the intrudertoo closely. A shadowy form bounds upon it, and all is over.
If panthers were contented to kill these animals only, no reasonable objection to their deeds could be made. Unfortunately this is not the case; sheep, goats, pigs, horses, cattle, and their owners, all are destroyed; and when some casualty more exasperating or tragic than usual occurs, public opprobrium descends upon the hereditary huntsman of the commune with true Asiatic violence and unreason. Is he, the accursed, supported in ease and affluence in order to snore like a swine while people and their property are thus devoured? Oh Ram! Ram! Ram! May the choicest curses light upon him, may he be beset by all devils whatsoever! Then the official, who is wholly blameless, and except by accident cannot hope to do anything against a beast like this, curses the panther, his fate, his fellow-citizens, and himself; after which everybody forgets the matter.
No prudential reflections interfere with a panther’s singleness of purpose when on the prowl. Blood is his object, and blood he intends to have, so the upshot is that he often finds himself at the bottom of a pit shaped like an inverted pyramid that it is impossible to dig out of. What subsequently happens depends upon the demand for wild beasts. If an agent of Jamrach’s has left an order for panthers, or some native ruler signified his will that they be forthcoming immediately, the captive’s life is safe. Men arrive in the morning with something that looks like a magnified crate. It is inverted over the pit’s mouth, earth is thrown in, the floor rises and with it the captive,until the animal is forced into this temporary cage. Bamboo crosspieces are then slipped under and secured, and very shortly he isen route. If the destination be a zoölogical park or menagerie, it is said that the beast will live longer and develop physically more completely in captivity than it would in a state of freedom. This is, to say the least, doubtful. Much might be advanced upon the subject, but biological discussions are out of place here, and it is enough to point out the fact that this opinion must be purely arbitrary, since no vital statistics exist from which such a conclusion could be legitimately drawn.
Returning to the subject of traps, they are not always constructed alike. Besides excavations there are enclosures that must be entered intentionally or not at all. These are made by driving palisades deep in the earth, roofing them, and cutting a sliding door in the side. It is connected with the bait by a string in such a manner as to drop when this is touched. Tigers are seldom taken in by these inventions, but the panther is frequently caught, especially if a live animal be placed in the trap. How he reasons upon the unusual circumstances then presented we do not know. Perhaps there is little or no deliberation upon what he ought to do, and the brute merely acts in obedience to its immediate impulses. But if we examine the behavior of panthers that go into villages to kill men, in all instances of this kind the animal’s conduct is marked by a union of skill and daring with cunning and circumspection. What makes him lose his prudence in face of a trap? Except himself, there is not a great cat in Asiathat would not be apt to see into this device and keep out of danger. The panther, however, enters the enclosure. Such appears to be a fair statement of facts relating to the brute’s character and habits in this connection, but no attempt is made towards explaining them.
In certain parts of India panthers are netted. That is, nets are hung about ten feet high behind which the hunters stand with spears. It is notjouer de rigueurto use rifles unless these defences are leaped.
In the event of the barrier being bounded over, the result to the huntsmen depends greatly upon the way in which the beast attacks. Some animals of this species have a curious habit, under such circumstances, of trying to kill all their enemies at once. Much the same has been said of tigers. Sir J. E. Alexander (“Expedition into Africa”) speaks of the spotted cats of that country as flying about among a crowd of enemies, striking first at one and then at another. In such a skirmish nobody might be seriously injured. On the other hand, they cannot be counted upon to act in this manner, and if, like Barras’ panther, one singled out a particular man and fastened upon him, nothing, it is likely, could save his life except prompt interference upon the part of his companions.
With regard to its attack upon game, the mode in which this animal takes its prey has been definitely settled in several different ways, as is the case also in respect to the manner in which its prey is eaten. Colonel Pollok (“Sport in British Burmah”) remarks that “there is a peculiar and singular distinction, with regard to the mode of breakingup their prey, between the tiger and the panther, the latter invariably commencing upon the fore quarters or chest.” General Shakespear, nevertheless, came unexpectedly upon a panther that had just killed a cow in the Bootinaut correa, and it was feeding upon one of the hind quarters, “a large piece of which had already been consumed.” Colonel Barras and Captain Forsyth consider the throat to be the part first fastened upon, Baker states that the body is at once torn open to get at the viscera, and Inglis, Leveson, and others explain that panthers suck the blood of their victims before anything else.
Similar dogmatic opinions and exclusive views of the way in which a panther or leopard kills game have been advanced. They are said to break the neck with a blow of their forearm; and also never to do so, not being able in the case of large animals, and with small ones this being unnecessary. Some authorities maintain that the cervical vertebræ are dislocated by twisting the head; others, that the head is bent backward till the neck breaks.
Hon. W. H. Drummond (“Large Game and Natural History of South and Southeast Africa”) says that “leopards and panthers are very numerous in that country.” He likewise apparently regards these varieties as distinct species, and writes about the “ingwe” orFelis leopardus, the “N’gulula” or maned leopard, andFelis pardus, the true panther, as if two of these, at least, belonged to different groups.
Strangely enough to anyone acquainted with the characteristics of the Asiatic panther, Drummond asserts that the leopard, which is a comparatively rare animal, is, althoughof smaller size, the fiercer and more dangerous of the two. He explains that its rarity is more apparent than real, and depends upon the creature’s “nocturnal habits and the thickness of the jungles they lie in,” so that sportsmen only “occasionally come across them by accident.”
It is singular, however, that a hunter who had passed a number of years in a country where they abound, should have been so little impressed by the prowess of a beast which, at least in Central and West Africa, is very destructive to human life. It must be the case that the brute’s character varies somewhat with locality, yet Drummond’s narrative portrays a condition of things under which its native ferocity and aggressive nature should have been developed and not diminished. However this may be, the pale, almost white-skinned panther, whose light color is very conspicuous in its rosette, was plainly regarded by Drummond as a much less formidable foe than its congener of the Indian jungles, or even than its relations which Baker and others found in the northern parts of Africa.
Still, he admits that “common leopards,i.e.the two forms locally known under the name ofingwe, are much to be dreaded when brought to bay, and that anecdotes innumerable might be related of instances where they have killed or seriously injured both white and black hunters. The virus of their bite is very great. I remember once seeing seven men belonging to a Zulu village awfully torn and mangled by a single animal, and the wounds remained open for a long time, and ultimately left great scars. On the other hand, I know of several who have died where the injuries received were not such as to have been generallyfatal.” Sir W. C. Harris mentions it as a peculiarity of the leopard’s attack that it strikes at the face; Drummond says nothing about this trait, and the former author probably fell into some confusion of ideas, caused by the well-known tendency of this species to tear open the great vessels of the throat.
Panthers and leopards are only varieties of the same species, yet while the reputation of the former is such as has been stated, hunters often speak of the latter as if it were nearly harmless so far as human beings are concerned. Leopards are described as having been shot right and left in the jungle, treed by dogs and killed on limbs without difficulty, pelted from the doorways of deserted huts, and speared in the open from the saddle. Leveson, Drummond, and Baker relate experiences of this kind, but the literature of the subject contains many very different accounts of their prowess. Both in Asia and Africa they have often been found to be extremely dangerous and destructive animals. There is good reason why in heraldic blazonry the leopard should be represented aspassant gardant. The designers did not know it, but the fact is that no animal capable of doing so much harm, and that has as many evil deeds to answer for, is at once so enterprising, so stealthy, and so full of cunning. Compared with him, the greaterFelidæ, on the one hand, and that much-abused assassin and robber, the fox, upon the other, are “mild-mannered,” and might be called bunglers.
When a tiger—and the same may be said of the lion—attempts to carry out a scheme he has formed for the surprise and murder of some man whose whereabouts he hasascertained, the design is often more complete than the execution. His heavy yet muffled tread is sometimes heard, he breaks dry sticks, rustles as he moves through parched herbage, waves long grass in passing, so that any experienced eye can tell he is there, puts his head out of cover prematurely, is apt to cross open spaces when a circuit ought to be made; again, he cannot keep his tail still, and as the moment approaches for making an end of his victim, anticipation of the pleasure of putting the man to death and devouring him overcomes his caution, and he begins to purr. This is not a loud sound, but it is a very impressive one, and has been frequently heard. But no creature’s senses can give warning of a panther’s or leopard’s approach. Few people ever heard or saw one of these beasts while coming. They steal upon their prey with the silence and certainty of death. Their stalk is the perfection of skill. The attack is rapid and fierce beyond comparison; and afterwards, unless the ground is such as will retain a trail, this animal cannot be followed. It is the most difficult to mark down of all beasts of prey, the hardest to track on account of its many tricks. No kind of game is so often hunted unsuccessfully.
Leopards get the advantage over a being far cleverer than any other forest animal. Monkeys of all species detest tigers, but have an intense dread of the spotted cats. They “swear” at the former, but fly from the latter, and as for men, monkeys deride them. Panthers and leopards catch these creatures in trees, on the ground, by day and by night; while they are on the alert, and in moments when anapparent absence of danger lulls these astute little beasts into a fatal feeling of security.
A cattle-lifting panther, according to Pollok and Forsyth, is more destructive than a tiger. On the great ranges where herds graze during the time when pasture is destroyed by drought in a good part of India, the depredations of these beasts cost the owners dearly, and they likewise take a constant toll from those animals, cows principally, which are kept at villages. A buffalo under ordinary circumstances is safe, even if alone; and when the herd is united to resist, even he with the stripes has not the slightest chance of success.
Cows, however, are the especial prey of panthers. In India these are of comparatively small size, and preternaturally imbecile. TheBovidæare not a gifted family at their best, and when domestication relieves them to a great extent from the necessity of taking care of themselves, they lose much of the faculty which in wild forms is developed under the stress of necessity. Year after year, and age after age, the panther has been murdering Indian cattle in the same way, and they have never originated the slightest measure of precaution or defence. The full measure of their weakness of mind has been taken by the enemy, and when he concludes to give up hunting, except as a pastime, and live on beef, his prey may be said to come to him.
In 1863 Captain Forsyth hunted panthers on the higher Narbadá, under the auspices of an old shikári, an unspeakable scoundrel, who had killed more of them than anybody else whose exploits the annals of sport with large game perpetuate.Bamanjee (the Brahman) seems to have been exceptionally honest in his dealings with the Captain, and to have given him an opportunity, rarely accorded to the hunters whom he swindled, for making observations upon the habits and character of these beasts. Forsyth relates his experiences in a way that will serve as a summary of what has been already said aboutFelis pardus. “The number of these animals in the districts around Jubbulpúr is very great. The low rocky hills, ... full of hollows and caverns, and overgrown with dense scrubby cover, afford them their favorite retreats; while numbers of antelope and hog deer, goats, sheep, pariah dogs, and pigs supply them with abundant food. A large male panther will kill not very heavy cattle; but as a rule they confine themselves to the smaller animals mentioned. They seldom reside very far from villages, prowling around them at night in search of prey, and retreating to their fastnesses before daybreak. Unlike the tiger, they care little for the neighborhood of water, even in the hot weather, drinking only at night, and generally at a distance from their midday retreat.”
The scourge that a man-eating panther becomes, and those traits which make him worse than either the lion or tiger when he has taken to preying upon human beings, have been already given at some length; the following statements, however, also by Forsyth, place the panther’s enterprise and hardihood before us veryvividly:—
“In my early hunting days I fell into the mistake of most sportsmen in supposing that the panther might be hunted on foot with less caution than the tiger. On twoor three occasions I nearly paid dearly for the error, and I now believe that the panther is really by far a more dangerous animal to attack. He is, in the first place, much more courageous. For, though he will generally sneak away unobserved as long as he can, if once brought to close quarters he rarely fails to charge with the utmost ferocity, fighting to the very last. He is also much more active than the tiger, making immense springs clear off the ground, which the other seldom does. He can conceal himself in the most wonderful way, his spotted hide blending with the ground, and his lithe, loose form being compressible into an inconceivably small space. Further, he is so much less in depth and stoutness than a tiger, and moves so much quicker, that he is far more difficult to hit in a vital place. He can also climb trees, which the tiger cannot do, except for a small distance up a thick, sloping trunk. A few years ago a panther thus took a sportsman out of a high perch on a tree in the Chindwárá district. And, lastly, his powers of offence are scarcely inferior to those of the tiger himself, and are amply sufficient to be the death of any man he gets hold of. When stationed at Damoh, near Jubbulpúr, with a detachment of my regiment, I shot seven panthers and leopards in less than a month, within a few miles of the station, chiefly by driving them out with beaters; all of them charged that had the power to do so, but the little cherub who watches over ‘griffins’ got us out of it without damage either to myself or the beaters. One of the smaller species [Forsyth means a leopard, which, together with Byth, Jerdon, and other naturalists, he regarded as a true panther ofless dimensions than the other variety], really not more than five feet long, I believe, charged me three several times up a bank to the very muzzle of my rifles (of which I luckily had a couple), falling back each time to the shot, but not thinking of trying to escape, and died at last at my feet, with her teeth fixed in the root of a small tree.
“Another jumped on my horse, while passing through some long grass, before it was fired at at all; and after being kicked off, charged my groom and gun-carrier, who barely escaped by fleeing for their lives, leaving my only gun in possession of the leopard. I had to ride to cantonments to get another rifle, and gather together some beaters. When we returned I took up my post on a rock that overlooked the patch of grass, and the beaters had scarcely commenced their noise when the leopard went at them like an arrow. An accident would certainly have happened this time had my shots failed to stop this devil incarnate before she reached them. She had cubs in the grass, which accounted for her fury; but a tigress would have abandoned them to their fate in a similar case. The last I killed was a man-eater, that took up his post among the high crops surrounding a village, and killed and dragged in women and children who ventured out of the place. He was a panther of the largest size, and had been wounded by a shikári from a tree, ... rendering him incapable of killing game. I was a week hunting him, as he was very careful not to show himself when pursued, and at last I shot him in a cow-house into which he had ventured, and killed several head of cattle before the people had courage to shut the door.”
Among other peculiarities, says Forsyth, “their indifference to water makes it extremely difficult to bring them to book; and indeed panthers are far more generally met with by accident than secured by regular hunting. When beating with elephants they are very rarely found, considering their numbers; but they must be very frequently passed at a short distance unobserved, in this kind of hunting. In 1862, I was looking for a tigress and cubs near Khápá on the Lawá River in Bétúl. Their tracks of a few days old led into a deep fissure in the rocky banks of the river, above which I went, leaving the elephant below, and threw in stones from the edge. Some way up I saw a large panther steal out at the head and sneak across the plain. He was out of shot, and I followed on his tracks, which were clear enough for a few hundred yards, till, at the crossing of a small rocky nálá (gulch) they disappeared. I could not make it out, and was returning to the elephant, when I saw the driver making signals. He had followed me up above, and had seen the panther break back along the little nálá which led into the top of the ravine, and re-enter the latter. I then went and placed myself so as to command the top of this ravine, and sent people below to fling in stones; and presently the panther broke again in the same place, this time galloping away openly across the plain. I missed with both barrels of my rifle, but turned him over with a lucky shot from a smooth-bore at more than two hundred yards. I then went up to him on the elephant, and he made feeble attempts to rise and come at me, but he was too far gone to succeed.
“The panther will charge an elephant with the greatest ferocity. In 1863, near Jubbulpúr, a party of us were beating a bamboo cover for pigs, with a view to the sticking thereof (that is to say, riding them down and spearing them from the saddle); my elephant was with the beaters, when a shout from the latter announced that they had stumbled on a panther. They took to trees, and I got on the elephant to turn him out, while the rest exchanged their hog spears for rifles and surrounded the place. She got up before me, bounding away over the low bamboos, and I struck her on the rump with a light breech-loading gun as she disappeared. Several shots from the trees failed to stop her, and she took refuge in a very dense, thorny cover on the banks of a little stream. Twice I passed up and down without seeing the brute, but fired once into a log of wood in mistake for her, and was going along the top of the cover for the third time, when the elephant pointed down the bank with her extended trunk. We threw some stones in, but nothing moved, and at last a peon came up with a huge stone on his head, which he heaved down the bank. Next moment a yellow streak shot from the bushes, and levelling the adventurous peon, like a flash of lightning came at my elephant’s head, but just at the last spring, I broke her back with the breech-loader, and she fell under the elephant’s trunk, tearing at the earth and stones and her own body in her bloody rage.
“The method usually resorted to by old Bamanjee and other native shikáris for killing panthers and leopards, was by tying out a kid, with a line attached to a fish-hookthrough its ear, a pull at which makes the poor little brute continue to squeak, after it has cried itself to silence about its mother. No sentiment of humanity interferes with the devices of the mild Hindu. A dog in a pit with a basket work cover over it, and similarly attached to a line, is equally effective. I have known panthers repeatedly to take animals they have killed up into trees to devour, and once found the body of a child that had been killed by a panther in the Bétúl District, so disposed of in the fork of a tree. They are very often lost, I believe, by taking unobserved to trees. Beating them out of cover with a strong body of beaters and fireworks is, on the whole, the most successful way of hunting these cunning brutes; but it is accompanied with a good deal of risk to the beaters, as well as to the sportsman if he is over-venturesome; and it is liable to end in disappointment in most instances. My own experience is that the majority of panthers one finds, are come across more by luck than good management.
“A large panther was making himself very troublesome ... in the neighborhood of the Jubbulpúr and Mandlá road. He had killed several children in different villages, and promised, unless suppressed, to become a regular man-eater. I encamped for some days in the neighborhood of his haunts, and the very first night the villain had the impudence to kill and drag away a good-sized baggage pony out of my camp. The night being warm I was sleeping outside for the sake of coolness, and was awakened by a riving and gurgling noise close to my bed. It was too dark to see; so I pulled out the revolver, that in thoseuncertain times always lay under my pillow, and fired off a couple of shots to scare the intruder. Getting a light, I was relieved to find it was only the pony.” This animal did not return to its “kill,” and Captain Forsyth’s watch was in vain.
There are certain writers, William H. Drummond, and Sir William Cornwallis Harris, for example, from whose works it might be inferred that in East Africa panthers and leopards were of a quite different character from their Asiatic allies. Taking the evidence on record with regard to this continent as a whole, the discrepancy disappears, however, andFelis pardusthere, appears in much the same aspect as elsewhere. The animals are necessarily modified to some extent by differences implied in a change of province, but in the main they are reported by observers as exhibiting like traits, and performing much the same exploits with those that have been given.