THE PUMA
Whatis true with regard to the present geographical distribution of the cats, has been true always; throughout their fossil history the greater and more formidableFelidæhave been confined to the Eastern Hemisphere. A number of American species exist, however, ranging from among the smallest and most beautiful forms contained in this family, up to animals that in destructive power, only give place to their great African and Asiatic allies. The puma and jaguar have not filled so large a space in zoölogical literature as the lion and tiger; they have not attracted so much general attention, and are less known. But this is, to a considerable degree, the result of accident. For the most part, those who encountered them were men of a different stamp from the famous hunters whose adventures in Asia and Africa have made the animals of their forests and plains familiar and full of interest to so large a portion of the public in civilized lands.
THE PUMA.[From a photograph by Gambier Bolton. Copyright.]
THE PUMA.[From a photograph by Gambier Bolton. Copyright.]
THE PUMA.
[From a photograph by Gambier Bolton. Copyright.]
It is seldom that the throngs that pass before cages in which wild beasts are confined, contain a spectator who knows how perfect a creature a cat is. As a class these forms are adjusted to their place in nature better than other creatures, and also much better than thehuman race. Their distinctive characteristics are all strongly marked, and have persisted from a period so incalculably remote, that theFelidæmay in this respect be said to stand by themselves. “We have as yet,” remarks A. R. Wallace (“Geographical Distribution of Animals”), “made little approach towards discovering ‘their origin,’ since the oldest forms yet found are typical and highly specialized representatives of a group which is itself the most specialized of the carnivora.” No one acquainted with the evidence upon which this statement rests is likely to gainsay it, and its meaning is not obscure. The fact carries with it a necessary implication that animals of the species referred to, having followed a definite way of life longer than the rest, are more fit in every way to meet its requirements.
Perhaps the most striking illustration that could be given of the reality of what has been said, is the small difference actually existing between wild and domesticated cats. Domestication is so great and radical a change from the feral state, that the entire constitution of an animal is affected,—mind and body, temper, intelligence, form, color, fertility and physical capacity, are all modified. But it is not thorough enough to do away with the traits engendered in theFelidæ, and therefore it happens that after thousands of years, the house cat varies from the wild one so little in important and distinctive characteristics. Cattle and sheep were domesticated before the dispersion of the Aryan tribes; linguistic evidence places that fact beyond question. Cats, however, though introduced into Europe from Asia, as was the case also with the horse, ass, and goat,were no doubt first reclaimed from savage life in Egypt. On the Lower Nile domestic cats were sacred to Pasht, whom the Greeks called Bubastis, and identified with Artemis. She was represented with the head of a cat or lioness, as was Sechet also, a divinity equivalent to the Phœnician Astarte.
These personifications were not meaningless. Bast or Sechet was the patroness of the baser passions and more destructive vices. It was her part, likewise, to torture the condemned in the lower world. Naturalists (Pastophori) belonging to the faculties established at “the hall of the ancients” in Heliopolis, and “the house of Seti” in Thebes, knew much more, and also much less, about zoölogy and its allied sciences than is popularly supposed.
Felis concolor, the puma, cougar, panther, mountain lion, etc., is more correctly called by the last of these names than by that of panther, under which he is commonly known throughout the northern part of this continent. In its habits the puma is said, but not with any great degree of appropriateness, to resemble the leopard more closely than any feline species. Buffon called it the American lion, but he knew very little about this animal, and his opinion upon its character is of no special importance. E. F. im Thurn (“Among the Indians of Guiana”) remarks that in the southern part of America, and particularly in Guiana, all varieties of feral cats take their titles from the kind of game upon which they principally subsist. ThusFelis concoloris called “the deer tiger,”Felis nigrathe “tapir tiger,” andFelis macnerathe “peccary tiger.” Such maybe the case when aborigines are forced to particularize; but in common parlance one hears only the sobriquet “león” bestowed by all classes of people on the puma.
There is but one true species found in America, and this is distributed in all parts of the continent. The average length from tip to tip may be given at about six and a half feet. In maturity the skin is of a uniform tawny hue on the back and sides, with some deepening of shade in the case of individuals. Cubs are born with dark stripes upon the body, and spots on the neck and shoulders. Garcilasso de la Vega (“Royal Commentaries”) speaking of this beast as the tutelar of certain noble Peruvian families, and probably their eponymous ancestor, says: “A Spaniard whom I knew killed a large lioness (female puma) in the country of the Antis, near Cuzco. She had climbed into a high tree, and was slain by four thrusts of a lance. There were two whelps in her bodywhich were sons of a tiger(jaguar), for their skins were marked with the sire’s spots.”
Like allFelidæexcept the cheeta or hunting leopard, the limbs have little free play; they are not adapted to continued rapid locomotion, being short and massive, very powerful, but somewhat limited in variety of action, and more capable of extreme and spasmodic efforts than of persistent use. The animal is very arboreal in its habits, and its climbing powers and general dexterity are not surpassed by any species belonging to this family.
Like true panthers, these cougars, carcajous, catamounts or pumas (the native title issassu-aranaor false deer) are, according to H. W. Bates (“The Naturalist on the RiverAmazon”), accustomed to live in cliffs and caves, and they seem able to do without the constant supply of water that some others among theFelidærequire.
It is said that here, as in India, the representatives of the tiger and lion do not live together. While this may be true in a general way, there is not the same separateness of range as in Asia; and the author, in common with other explorers, has found them in similar localities on several occasions. No accounts have been given, so far as the present writer is aware, of actual conflicts occurring between the puma and jaguar, and, in fact, there could be little hope for the former in such a contest, as his adversary would be much heavier and more powerful, equally active, and better armed. With respect to the grizzly bear, there is little doubt that common report among frontiersmen, to the effect that he is often assailed by the puma and frequently worsted, has some foundation in fact. From two to four young are born together, and by the end of the first year these whelps lose their spots and stripes. They are lively and playful during infancy, and although in them, as in all animals so highly organized, a decided individuality displays itself from the first, personal experience has convinced the author that they possess a great degree of intelligence, are easily taught those things which their faculties enable them to acquire; and, so far as their own interest and convenience influence conduct, that they exhibit ludicrously strong preferences and dislikes.
Great strength and activity are combined in the puma, its armature is formidable, the brute is habitually silent, stealthy in the highest degree, and full of the so-calledtreachery of its race. Besides this, it is very enterprising when occasion warrants a display of audacity, as well as extremely ferocious and blood-thirsty. More frequently, perhaps, than any of the great cats, it kills for the mere gratification of its cruel impulses. Dr. Merriman (“Mammals of the Adirondacks”) states that on level ground “a single spring of twenty feet is not uncommon for a cougar,” and Sheppard records the measurement of a distance twice as great when the leap was made downward from a ledge of rock upon a deer.
Padre José de Acosta (“Historia natural y moral de las Indias”) says that neither the puma nor the jaguar “is so fierce as he appears to be in pictures,” though both will kill men. There are, however, many places where the puma has been so cowed by ill success in his attacks upon human beings, that he avoids them as much as possible. Cieza de Leon and Garcilasso de la Vega express themselves to the same effect. Humboldt found whole villages abandoned by their helpless inhabitants in consequence of the ravages of the two great American cats, but Emmanuel Liais (“Climats, Géologie, Faune, etc. du Brésil”) asserts that both “l’une et d’autre fuient l’homme et les chiens; même un enfant à cheval leur fait peur.” This is a mere repetition of what has been asserted without qualification, proper inquiry, or adequate experience with the largerFelidæin Asia and Africa.
There is no need to argue the question whether or not pumas can or will kill men; that has been affirmatively settled by facts. This creature’s personal courage is a different matter. It is only a brute; yet if any one studieswhat has been said with regard to this trait, it will appear that most denunciations of the animal’s cowardice rest upon circumstances under which it did not conduct itself like a gentleman. A cougar’s padded foot, its short massive limbs, which prevent it from chasing prey, the brute’s great powers of concealing itself, and perfect physical adjustment to sudden and violent attacks, are recapitulated as though they had no necessary connection with its behavior, and were not inseparably associated with corresponding peculiarities of character and habit.
A beast of prey passes the active portion of its existence in projecting or executing acts of violence. Habitual success means life, and failure death. Under such circumstances, under the influence of an experience in which by far the larger part of those enterprises undertaken resulted favorably, a self-confidence, incompatible with cowardice, will ensue.
At the same time there seems to be some general preconception with respect to the character of wild beasts, such as converts every manifestation of prudence into poltroonery. The clash of opinions expressed about all the more imposing animals witnesses to the crude and arbitrary manner in which they have been formed. With respect to this one, not the tiger himself has been the subject of more irreconcilable statements.
Stories of puma hunting and of the animal’s exploits depend, so far as their style is concerned, upon the place where they are told, and the experiences of the narrator. No hunter of large game thinks it anything of a feat to shoot a cougar, yet the author has known these brutesto fight desperately when brought to bay, and in two instances their resistance was sufficiently formidable to cause, in the one case loss of life, and in the other injuries from which men never entirely recovered. Many such examples might be gathered, but they are nevertheless exceptional. A puma is not difficult to kill, and if it is seen in time, a properly armed man must either be very unfortunate or very unfit for the position in which he finds himself, if the result is not favorable. What is said of the panther and leopard, however, by Captain Forsyth (“The Highlands of Central India”) and by Sir Samuel Baker (“Wild Beasts and their Ways”) is peculiarly applicable to this animal: it is almost always met with unexpectedly, and no mortal can say beforehand what it will do. If taken at advantage and by surprise, as commonly happens, a single man would not usually have much chance at close quarters. The writer has, however, known them to be killed with knives, though not without severe injury to the victor.
The average native of tropical America, while fully appreciating how much more dangerous is the beast he calls a tiger, is quite enough impressed with the prowess of its smaller, though sometimes equally ferocious ally, to have his mind saturated with superstitions concerning pumas. Tapuyo or Mameluco guides will sit by a camp fire and talk in a way to put Acuna or Artieda in the background. Almost equally with the jaguar this creature has supernatural and diabolic connections. When its rarely heard cry or scream, as any one may choose to call a sound so difficult to describe and which varies so greatly, floatsthrough the forest, these natives never know whether they hear a prowling cougar, or the voice of that god from whom its race descended. Botos, a demon of woodland lakes, guides the beast to his prey; the basilisk worm Minhocao is somehow connected with it in its designs against human beings, and the deadly man-like Cæpora shrieks in concert with pumas as they roam through the darkness. W. A. Parry (“The Cougar”) says that its cry “can only be likened to a scream of demoniac laughter,” and that the female’s answer to her mate’s call resembles “the wail of a child in terrible pain.”
James Orton and Prince Maximilian of Nieuwied have severally settled it that cougars are all abject cowards. Speaking from personal recollection, the author feels no hesitation in saying that it required great singleness of mind to come to this conclusion, and much dexterity to go where they did and avoid seeing things which might have modified this conclusion.
It does not follow, for reasons which have been explained at length, that because a puma attacks a grizzly bear he must be dangerous to a man; or because numbers of men have undoubtedly been killed in some places, that it should be formidable to human beings everywhere.
“When hungry,” says Theodore Roosevelt (“Hunting Trips of a Ranchman”), “a cougar will attack anything it can master.” Audubon, however, supposes that it never ventures to assail such large animals as cows or steers. William B. Stevenson (“Twenty Years in South America”) tells us how destructive this creature is to horses, and also how the more than half-wild cattle of the pampasform into rings to defend themselves. Captain Flack (“A Hunter’s Experience in the Southern States of America”) relates an incident in which his horse was stalked by a cougar. S. S. Hill (“Travels in Peru and Mexico”) informs us that “this animal always flies at the sight of man.” G. W. Webber (“The Hunter Naturalist”) declares that he “knows hundreds of well-authenticated instances in which the cougar or panther attacked the early hunters—springing suddenly upon them from an ambush.” Many writers affirm that calves, colts, sheep, goats, swine, are the only domestic animals ever preyed upon, and a deer the largest wild creature which is destroyed. But a traveller like Charles Darwin was certain to observe that, although in La Plata “cougars seldom assault cattle or horses, and most rarely man,” living principally on ostriches, deer, bizcacha, etc., in Chile, they killed all those animals they are said never to touch, including man.
Moreover, we read dogmatic assertions to the effect that pumas always leap on their victims from behind, and break their necks by bending back the head. Another authority decides that this is so far from being the case that death commonly arises from dislocation caused by a blow with the paw; still another insists that the vertebræ are not disjointed at all, but bitten through, which is again denied by those who are convinced that cougars invariably kill their prey by cutting the throat. Much the same statements are made about everything the beast does or is said to do, and the conclusion, which one familiar with this kind of literature comes to, is that these conflicting statements are notall false, but in a restricted sense all true. That is to say, the several ways of destruction mentioned are practised as occasion requires or suggests.
One point at least with regard to the puma’s disposition in certain directions is more clearly set forth than has been the case in respect to other beasts of prey, and this is the fact that the creature’s temper has been greatly changed by contact with mankind. The same thing has happened everywhere with all game hunted successfully for a long period; but this fact is ignored, and brutes whose natures are different in some minor traits from what they once were, are discussed as if the special features now exhibited had been always the same.
C. Barrington Brown (“Canoe and Camp Life in British Guiana”) relates an incident which occurred while he was exploring the upper courses of the Cutari and Aramatau rivers. “One evening, while returning to camp along the portage path that we were cutting at Wonobobo Falls, I walked faster than the men, and got some two hundred yards in advance of them. As I rose the slope of an uneven piece of ground, I saw a large puma (Felis concolor) advancing towards me, along the other side of the rise, with its nose close to the ground. The moment I saw it I stopped, and at the same instant it tossed up its head, and seeing me also, came to a stand. With its body half-crouched, its head erect, and its eyes round and black from the expansion of their pupils in the dusky light, it was at once a noble and appalling sight. I glanced back along our wide path to see if any of the men were coming, as at that moment I felt that it was not well to be alonewithout some weapon of defence, and I knew that one of them had a gun; but nothing could be seen. As long as I did not move the puma remained motionless also; and thus we stood, some fifteen yards apart, eyeing each other curiously. I had heard that the human voice was potent in scaring most wild beasts, and feeling that the time had arrived for doing something desperate, I waved my arms in the air and shouted loudly. The effect on the animal was electrical; it turned quickly to one side, and in two bounds was lost in the forest.”
Now why did this brute thus behave? The narrative gives not the least explanation of its conduct. Brown thought it was frightened by his gestures, because a few days before he had come upon a jaguar basking on a rock by the river, whose serenity was not at all disturbed by the voices of a boat full of men. But that was merely a guess. Very probably this animal had never seen a man previously, and almost certainly not a white man in civilized costume. There was then the profound impressiveness of absolute strangeness in the sight, and this alone would have been more likely to alarm a human being or intelligent brute than any other cause we know of. Perhaps the puma had just devoured a peccary and was gorged; or possibly its keen senses revealed the approach of Brown’s party, who in fact appeared almost immediately. One may see in a narrative like this, which is a fair specimen of those relations from which most dogmatic conclusions upon the character of wild beasts have been drawn, how arbitrary and unjustifiable they generally are.
Roosevelt states that a slave on his father’s plantation inFlorida was passing through a swamp one night, when he was attacked by a puma. The negro was “a man of colossal size and fierce and determined temper.” Moreover, he carried one of the heavy knives that are used in cutting cane. Both parties were killed after a long and desperate struggle, whose traces were plainly impressed upon the spot. But here it appears that a man was assailed, and that the beast continued its attempts to kill him after discovering that he was armed, and persisted in its attack as long as life lasted.
One evening as the author was riding towards a hacienda in Sinaloa, and was about half a league distant from it, a girl rushed to the edge of a thicket and began to scream for help. Galloping up, it appeared she had just discovered the body of her father, killed apparently by a puma, who lay dead beside him. Life was not extinct, however, although he was very badly wounded. He said that while passing, the bellowing of an ox, mingled with the cries of some kind of beast, induced him to make his way to the scene of action. There he found a large lion, as he called it, engaged in a fight with a steer, whom he had injured severely, and who was rapidly losing blood. As soon as the man appeared, the beast left the ox and made at him. There was scant time to roll hisserapearound his left arm, and draw the long knife which every ranchero wears in thebotaon his right leg, before he found himself in deadly conflict.
In these three anecdotes we have a very clear refutation by facts of several points with regard to this brute’s character, which have been generally accepted as settled.
Wariness and an entire absence of all the sentiments that produce recklessness in man, are as distinctly marked characters among theFelidæas their peculiar dentition or retractile claws; yet the author was informed by Colonel W. H. Harness that last summer (1893) a very large panther, as the animal is called in West Virginia, walked into an extensive logging camp near the town of Davis at midday; traversed one wing of the long building in which the men employed slept, and without making any demonstration of hostility towards those who fled before him, entered their dining-room and helped himself to the meat on the table; after which he quietly passed out of a side door, and was shot from a window. If this beast had been broken down with age or disabled by accident so that it could not hunt, or if the season and weather had been such as to banish game from the vicinity, its conduct might be comprehensible. This happened with an animal in perfect physical condition, and at a season when the mountains were full of game. The brute also must necessarily have connected all the men it knew anything about with death-dealing firearms, and that it then should have walked into a crowd, and lost its life in this act of seemingly idiotic bravado, simply sets at naught everything that is known of the creature’s character and habits.
Pumas, like Asiatic panthers, are easily caught in traps, but independently of this form of incapacity, they are far from being wanting in sagacity. Cougars are most accomplished hunters, and it has been explained how much that means. One of them, for example, will sometimes trail a human being for a day’s journey without finding whatit considers to be a suitable opportunity for making an attack.
The best and most intimate acquaintance with the character of a wild beast comes from those associations involved in domestication. When you have brought up an animal and been with it constantly day by day, the chances of finding out what it is like are better than they could be under any other conditions whatever. Prince Maximilian of Nieuwied, states that the puma is “peculiarly susceptible of domestication.” It does not appear, however, that he made any experiments in this direction, and it may be suspected that if he had, certain reasons for modifying his views upon the animal’s character would have suggested themselves during their course. A cougar is a cat, and in virtue of that fact is, as has been said, of all animals the least susceptible of radical change. Sanderson and Barras make a wide distinction between feline species, considered as amenable or refractory to such influences; and nothing is offered in the way of disparagement to their opinions, provided it be admitted that a young tiger may be a much more amiable and interesting infant than a panther cub, and, according to Gérard, a lion whelp attaches all hearts by its good qualities. But there soon comes a time at which traits inherent in them all are developed, and when they become strikingly alike in all their essential characteristics.
The writer bears in affectionate remembrance a pet “panther” who, from earliest life until his complete and splendid maturity, lived with him upon terms of the closest companionship. Every one who seriously studiesanecdotes of brute intelligence and character must necessarily distrust them. Their authors always, either directly or by implication, put inference in the place of observation, or they start with a hypothesis, the tendency of which is to assimilate evidence, and often, no doubt unconsciously, fit facts to their own preconceptions. It is hoped that the records of daily observation here made use of for the purpose of sketching traits of character, may not prove to be without some interest and value, and that their fragmentary and incomplete form will witness to the fact that nothing is given which seemed to be either speculative or unauthentic.
One sultry morning as the author sat at ease in his sala, an Indian entered and said he had heard that the Señor delighted in wild beasts, so that having by the help of God, some saints, and several friends, slain the mother of this little lion in the Golden Mountains, he had brought it there as a mark of respect, and would like to have seven Spanish dollars. Here he unrolled hisserapeand deposited a ball of indistinctly striped and spotted fur upon the floor. In that manner this puma of pumas came into the keeping of his guardian.
The latter impressed with a sense of the responsibilities attaching to the position in which he was placed, at once sprinkled the cub with red wine and called it Gato,—a procedure it resented as if the spirit of Constantine Capronymus himself had entered into its sinful little body. The rage of infancy, however, does not endure, and Gato shortly “serened himself,” to use the idiom of the country, where these things took place. He inspected his newacquaintance, rubbed up against him, had his head scratched with much complacency, and graciously ate as much as he could hold. Thus we made friends, and the compact was ever after kept by both parties, each in his own way.
The panther’s way was a very simple one. It consisted in looking to the being he had come in contact with for everything he wanted, and resolutely refusing to enter into intimate communications with any one else. Nobody who knew him could say that the least feeling of affection ever warmed his heart, but it was plain enough that while he contemned the human race, one man was tolerated, and a distinction made between him and all others. Some individuals he detested at first sight, and resented the slightest approach to familiarity. For the remainder he entertained a quiet contempt; but as for fearing them, nothing was further from his thoughts. So far as that went, it is very doubtful whether he ever felt any real dread of his guardian. Some feeling akin to respect may have existed in his mind. His powers of observation were keen and quick, he saw that this particular person differed in appearance from those about him, acted differently, and was somehow or other not the same as they. If he got into difficulties, and was likely to suffer the consequences of misconduct, hostilities against him ceased when his friend appeared upon the scene; he understood this perfectly, and took refuge with him when danger threatened. As was said, Gato had no affectionate impulses so far as could be certainly known. When he wanted to be stroked, or was hungry, or wished to play, or felt insecure,he came to his guardian, followed him about, and lay beside him. Moreover, the little savage was jealous. If he beheld a dog it always put him in a passion to see it coming towards his master to be caressed. He would fly to get ahead, dance about, jump on his knee, and growl and show his teeth with every sign of anger against the intruder upon his rights.
Colonel Julius Barras (“India and Tiger Hunting”) speaks of the jealousy shown by tiger cubs in his possession, but whereas he was satisfied that this was an expression of tenderness towards himself, the writer thinks it more likely to have been an exhibition of selfishness. Gato manifested at a very early age an appreciation of his own possessions, and a determination to do things after his own fashion. So far from checking this by force, his guardian encouraged it, and after having come to a clear understanding with him on the subject of biting and clawing, left him alone to follow his own devices. He was a very sagacious personage, and there was not a drop of cowardly blood in his whole body. When he was a baby there was little to distinguish him, while at rest, from some domestic cats, but he no sooner began to move about than his free wild air, the unmistakable style of savagery that stamped every action, showed him in another way. It may be added that, being left free to exhibit his individuality, and not having his family and personal characteristics marred or masked by enforced restraint until the creature grew dull, apathetic, and half imbecile, he was as pretty a specimen of feline peculiarity as any one could expect to see. Nothing was clearer to him than that themany-colored rug he was accustomed to lie on was his own. He had favorite places in which to sleep, meditate, and make observations. It would have been disagreeable indeed for any servant about the establishment to take off his bright silver collar after he grew to any size, and when he captured anything and put it away, that article became his private property, and he had no notion of giving it up.
Candor compels the admission that flattering as would have been some tokens of disinterested affection, he never gave any. What he did was to please himself. When he had no desire to be taught, which was often the case, a more stupid, sulky, and unsatisfactory pupil could not be imagined; but when his interest happened to be excited he was quickness itself, and he seldom forgot. One might as well have caressed a stuffed cat, or tried to romp with a dead one, as to have expected any recognition of advances in these directions when Señor Gato felt disposed to contemplation, and if compelled, as of course was the case sometimes, to do anything against his humor, he was not accustomed to leave any doubt about the disgust and anger which possessed him. From first to last, always, and under all circumstances, he like Richard, was “himself alone,” and never stooped to the snobbishness of pretence. Thus it happened that although under fostering care and paternal rule the creature grew in grace continually, he never became fitted to adorn general society. The asperity of his nature easily showed itself; the wild beast broke through the habitual dignity of his demeanor on small provocation. Not even that to him, extraordinary person with whom he was most intimate, and whoseresources so powerfully impressed his mind, might pull his ears or twist his tail after he grew up. This was to pass the proper limits of familiarity, and whenever it happened he crouched and glared with glistening fangs. That was all, however; no act of hostility followed.
Gato began to stalk his guardian at an early age, but soon learned that a statue of St. John the Evangelist was not alive, and gave up his practices against the Apostle. He discovered likewise the illusory character of shadows, which at one time were taken to be substantialities, and somehow or other satisfied his mind about his own reflection in a fountain when the wind ruffled its surface. This gave him much concern for a while. Being accustomed to look at himself in a glass, and to stand with his fore-paws on the edge of the basin and see his reflection in still water, what perplexed and excited him was the fact that it sometimes looked as if it moved while he was motionless. Whether he found out about the ripple, nobody knows, but he stopped tearing round the fountain and peering into it to see this thing from different positions.
It was not until he was quite a good-sized animal that the pretence of killing his guardian was given up. As the gravity of age grew upon him, and those engaging pastimes of his childhood gave way before the development of inherent traits, these playful hunts became more rare and finally ceased. Both of us fully understood that this stalking business was nothing but fun. In fact, Gato never fully entered into the spirit of his part or displayed his powers to their greatest advantage, unless he wasclosely watched. Then, however, his acting was perfect. He got as far off as possible in the long, gallery-like room, fastened his glowing eyes upon the pretended victim, and from first to last showed how complete are the teachings of heredity, both in all that he did and avoided doing. Nothing that could favor his approach was neglected, no mistake was made. The furniture might be differently arranged with design, lights and shadows changed, new places of concealment, from which he could make his mimic attack, constructed; but the animal’s tactics never failed to alter in accordance with these arrangements, and to be the best that circumstances admitted of. There is no doubt that he admired himself greatly, and, so far as it was possible to judge, commendation was very pleasing. He always expected to be complimented and caressed after darting from an ambush which had been reached with much precaution, and he reared up and rubbed his head against his friend, asking for praise as plainly as possible.
This account is not intended to convey any principles of zoöpsychology, but to record special facts relating to an animal whose family the author looks upon as exceptional in respect to their savagery, and who was himself, so far as the closest observation will warrant one in making a sweeping statement about a wild beast, not recognizably different in his characteristics from other members of the race he belonged to, or average individuals of allied species. “Magnum hereditatis mysterium” is a truth relating to theprocessof heredity alone; it has nothing to do with the fact that like produces like, or that traits, from the most generalized to those which are special, are undoubtedlytransmitted. Here was a creature developed through immemorial generations into a typical state of body and mind. So far as the result is concerned, it does not make the least difference whether this end was attained in the manner pointed out by Darwin, or Galton, or Weismann. In Gato the whole personality, every faculty and feeling, the functional and structural peculiarities of all his tissues and tissue elements, were stamped with that impress which the entire life of his savage ancestry entailed. On what grounds can it be supposed that such perfectly superficial influences, as were brought to bear upon him while under restraint, produce any radical change? The alteration in demeanor manifested towards one person, and probably effected through that self-interest which, in its general aspect, is exhibited by all the higher animals, did not show that he had been, so to speak, inoculated with civilized sentiments. On the contrary, he gave a flat denial to that opinion every day, and was as essentially a puma, pure and simple, at the hour of his death, as if he had never seen a man.
It would, however, be a singular course of reasoning by which the inference that all pumas were the same was drawn from this statement. Besides the congenital variation that, to conceal our ignorance, we say is involved in the plasticity of life, every organism has certain acquired differences. Life is no more than a state dependent upon continuous adjustments, and it can never exist in an identical degree in separate beings, because neither the conditions themselves, nor the power to fit body or mind to circumstances, is ever the same in different individuals.Evolved structures, functions, and qualities in groups, will be similar; for animals of all kinds must resemble their direct progenitors; but individuality is not extinguished, and as the race rises in capacity, or its members vary from an average, personal traits become salient, and those dissimilarities produced by alterations in the process by which existence is maintained, appear more prominently.
Almost the entire body of emotions which Gato possessed as a beast of prey, as well as his moral and intellectual traits, were beyond the reach of any modifications that could be made artificially. He was morose, cruel, treacherous, and blood-thirsty; but, it does not follow that he was absolutely so, or that, when compared with other pumas, these characteristics of his species were equally pronounced. Observation enables the writer to say that this animal was more intelligent, tractable, responsive, and reliable than any other beast of the same kind with which he ever was brought into close association.
A direct parallel between men, even barbarous men, and brutes will always fail. We do not know enough of the mental organization of either even to apply terms justly; and more than this, the difference between them in developmental states is so great that while the phenomena of both are of the same order, and the language used in describing one is applicable to the other, there are not close enough likenesses between them to make comparisons possible. Those who have attempted to frame psychological schemes, vitiated their work for the most part by a false method, or invalidated the conclusions arrived at, in consequence of preconceptions which biassed the temper in which evidencewas examined. Dr. W. L. Lindsay (“Mind in the Lower Animals in Health and Disease”) recognized the relationship between psychical manifestations wherever they took place, yet the influence, as in his case, of this, among many other hypotheses, was almost certain to make itself felt in the manner in which facts were regarded. On the other hand, Professor Prantl (“Reformgedanken zur Logik”) excogitated a metaphysical system for beasts from the standpoint of an assumption that the chasm which separated them from humanity was impassable. He admits their resemblance in essential nature. He agrees that the dissimilarities which they exhibit are results of a difference in evolutionary degree, and then his whole argument goes to show that this is not the case, and that brute mind and human intellect are radically distinct in structure and function. As this analysis of the intelligence in mankind and inferior beings was made without reference to facts, it is not surprising that they should be traversed by these in all directions, and that almost everything which the Professor asserts to be impossible, is well known to naturalists as a matter of actual occurrence.
Gato himself set at naught many of his conclusions. He may not have exhibited either love, gratitude, sense of duty, or that spirit of self-sacrifice which dogs frequently, and other animals sometimes, display, and there was no opportunity for judging of his social instincts; but he certainly possessed the “time sense” that Prantl attributes exclusively to man. His account of periods and seasons was as accurate as possible; he measured intervals and knew when they came to an end. Whether the ability to count beyondthree existed, it was impossible to determine. The three copper balls he used to play with were exactly alike, and if one was missing, its absence never failed to be noticed at once. If it occurred to him that it had been taken away intentionally, he got angry or sulky, as the case might be. During one part of his wardship, the periodical absences of his only friend put him out greatly, because, so far as actions revealed the creature’s feelings, they interfered with his comfort. He became dangerous when grown, and occupied a room by himself, from which he was not removed while his guardian was gone. Under ordinary circumstances he was released for several hours every night, and when the time came, if there was any delay, he began to call upon his comrade to let him out, and grew fierce if not attended to. No one ever knew him to take any violent exercise in this apartment, but the gymnastic performances he went through outside were worth seeing. After being confined in solitude a couple of days, which was the length of time his friend generally remained absent, his eagerness to see him back became excessive, according to all reports. He was restless, savage, and sometimes refused to eat on the last evening. The servants said that long before they themselves heard the horse’s tread, it might be known from Gato that his liberator was coming. But he never welcomed him as a dog or horse will do. He was full of exuberant vitality, endowed with an intelligent interest in the strange things around him, which he studied with continued interest, and inspired with an inherited passion for liberty. This always showed itself first. No sooner was the door opened than he darted out,intoxicated with being free, and it was not until nervous tension had been relieved by violent muscular motion, that he bethought himself of other matters.
To sit and watch a man take himself to pieces was pleasing but puzzling. It was evident that boots were part of the body, because his nose told him so. How could they be taken off, and why had these feet their claws behind? A sword and pistol did not perplex his mind, apparently, as much as the foot gear and spurs. The rapier he admired, like all bright objects, but the firearm excited distrust as being, perhaps, capable of going off spontaneously. He knew about revolvers, but placed no confidence in them whatever. Having presided over the strange process of taking off one skin and putting on another, inspected the articles of clothing removed, and assured himself that those assumed had really become part of the incomprehensible being who did these things, he was ready for his own toilet, which was confined to a gentle brushing of the head. This was expected, however, and was suggested if it did not come soon enough. Then he was ready to go to dinner, a pleasing interlude during which his manners were marked with the greatest elegance and discretion. It was not appetite that moved Gato—he had gratified that before; it was the performance itself.
Forks, for instance, those queer talons that were picked up and laid down, excited his curiosity. He examined them, he ate from one with propriety, their glitter attracted him, but he did not understand the rationale of such devices, and their use never failed to fix his attention. Moreover,on occasions when the amenities of social intercourse were in order, he was peaceable enough; not affable by any means, for he never noticed the attendants or appeared to be conscious of their presence. Smoking afforded this observant creature much satisfaction. Smoke itself, if puffed in his face, displeased him, but the preliminaries, striking a match, and the wreaths that floated away and vanished, all this he liked and pondered upon, as he did on certain pictures hung around, and everything that for reasons which can only be guessed at, excited wonder. Professor Prantl lays down the law that a beast cannot think logically; nevertheless, and apart from other facts which refute that decision, it was perfectly plain that Gato solved some problems implying this power. After a course of observations and experiments, it was discovered by him that shadows were not alive because they moved, and then these ceased to be pursued. Much study was requisite to arrive at a conclusion that the sunbeams reflected from a mirror were of the same inanimate nature. This was settled to his satisfaction only after great research. The creature saw this thing done time and again before convincing himself of the resemblance between those luminous shadows and the dark spectra which had formerly deceived him.
Gato grew graver with age, and abandoned many amusements in which he had at one time taken delight. It seemed to his guardian that there was a steady development of his intellect, which showed itself in everything he did. It would be too much to say that he was capable of thinking about his own thoughts, but who shall decide that he was not? With consciousness, memory, and astrong sense of personal identity; filled with innate tendencies, through the medium of which he interpreted external impressions; prone to contemplations that, as his eye and changing attitudes indicated, were not vague, apathetic dreams, no one can know that he did not revive mental states and meditate on centrically initiated ideas.
Personally, and so far as mere individual opinion unsupported by proof goes, the conviction in his friend’s mind is that he did. Often, as with all cats, his brain was torpid. Unconscious cerebration, no doubt, went on, but only dim, transient images floated into the field of consciousness, and fragmentary, isolated, shadow-like pictures of outward things were presented to the “mind’s eye.” It was plain enough when he was in this semi-somnolent condition, and the difference between it and the active exercise of faculty upon something within himself, was unmistakable. He thought, but how, and about what? In his realm of that ideal world so little of which has been explored by man, subjective processes transpired such as we have no clue to and no measure for. The contents of mind, however, must be derivations from experience in a wild beast as much as in a human being. What he had observed, seen, felt, and remembered in that form which his own organization conferred, were manifested characteristically: that is to say, when vivid imaginations excited, or external sense-notices aroused him, the beast of prey awoke at once. The same most likely, or rather, most certainly, must have been true of all mental conditions, but while the animal remained impassive, the fact was indiscernible. When this savage warrior lay before his companion’s arm-chair, and lookedstraight in his eyes with fixed intensity, calling to mind, perhaps, the things he knew about this man, it was natural that recollections of trainers’ confidences, accounts given by travellers and hunters, one’s own experiences, the many superstitions of civilized and savage peoples, should suggest ideas which had a tendency to color and distort observation upon the part of hisvis-à-vis.
No one, however, who was not under the influence of a fixed prejudice, could have looked into Gato’s unfaltering orbs and seen there any confirmation of the common belief that brutes such as he are only restrained by fear; or that they have an instinctive sense of reverence and awe in the presence of human beings. All the respect this one felt for his guardian he learned. Besides that, he had superstitions concerning him. In maturity his great size, and reports of the wisdom he had attained to, made the animal famous, so that many persons desired to see him—that is, through the grating at his door. But strangers found no favor with this misanthropist, and he disliked being stared at. Thus, after regarding such intruders with a stern countenance, and taking no notice of his friend under these degrading circumstances, he affected to be unconscious that anybody was there, or else deliberately turned his back upon the visitors. For a time it was supposed that this mark of contempt occurred accidentally. Gato could have had no conception of the significance of this act as it is understood in civilized society, but he did it for reasons of his own, and at length quite evidently on purpose.
As was said, curiosity, which is always indicative ofmental development, was an unusually prominent trait in his character. There were numbers of things to which he paid no attention, but when an act attracted his notice and was constantly performed, it appeared to require investigation, and he applied himself to the subject in a manner quite different from that superior air with which ordinary matters were regarded. Books amazed Gato. Nothing could be made out with regard to them by means of scent or sight: they were dead apparently, and not fit to eat. What was in them that never came out? Why should they be watched so closely? This question he never found any satisfactory answer to, and one might see that it often perplexed him. When he was little, reading made him jealous, and he put his paws on the page and invited his friend to play. This mysterious occupation lost its novelty in time, and the desire to romp passed away, but frequently in after days when he observed his companion turn towards the bookcase and get up, he escorted him to the shelves, scrutinized the way in which he looked for a volume, or turned over the leaves of several, and went back to see if anything was at last coming to light about this strange and constant occupation.
Gato resolutely refused to learn English. Why he preferred Spanish, no one knows, but he did, and would only respond to communications made in that tongue. Habit and association had much to do with this, no doubt, but there is reason to think that a distaste for our vernacular was one of the many prejudices which, in a measure, detracted from those qualities which embellished his character. His guardian discoursed to him at length; taughthim to do and leave undone numerous things, but had to use the only idiom his pupil chose to acquire any knowledge of. If he were called in English, the perverse creature would not come. He stood and stared like an obstinate child. More than this, if he understood, as no doubt he sometimes did, and even wanted to do what was commanded, but could not, because he had made up his mind never to do anything unless spoken to properly, he got angry. There is no doubt in the writer’s mind that this is a fact, and that the prejudice referred to existed. Force might have been resorted to, of course, but that would have had the effect of deforming his nature after every effort had been made to leave it to its natural expansion, except in so far as its tendencies were prevented from expressing themselves in homicidal acts.
Langworthy, “the lion-tamer,” as the posters called him, used to say that feline beasts, after coming to know one, were infallible physiognomists, but that they had to learn a face before being able to understand its expressions; also that they only read the signs of anger and fear, and never looked for anything else, not caring about approval or kindness, because all the great cats were destitute of affection. Lions, tigers, leopards, and the rest, he believed, scrutinized the countenance chiefly to see if a man were afraid. If so, no assumed look could conceal the fact, and they instantly became dangerous. Privately he scouted the idea that there was any power to overawe animals in one person rather than another, and held that the sole difference between men in this respect depended upon quickness of observation, and especially upon fearlessness.
In the main this squares with what is known of comparative psychology, and of theFelidæin particular. But like most sweeping assertions upon beasts or men, it is not wholly accurate. Many animals are exceedingly vain, nearly or possibly quite as much so as savage men, and vainer they could not be. Now this trait is inseparable from a desire for praise, and although it is no more necessary to feel any respect or affection for the persons who gratify this longing, than it is to love people because they are able to excite jealousy, creatures with such a disposition will always solicit approbation, and be pleased when it is accorded. Certainly this was the case with Gato, who was fond of display, and delighted in being noticed and admired; who did many things for the express purpose of being praised, and claimed commendation as plainly as if he had been able to speak.
The faces of brutes, similarly with those of human races which differ greatly in appearance from the observer, at first all look alike. But afterwards one begins to discriminate, and finally distinguishes differences between them, and changes in the same individual at different times. While Gato lay by the fountain listening to the wind murmur through the great tamarind boughs that shaded him, heard the water fall, saw the fleecy trade-wind clouds sail slowly overhead, and was evidently neither asleep nor lethargic, but keenly observant of every sight and sound, how easy would it have been to fit his reflections to the scene; “to opine probably and prettily,” as Bacon expresses it, and provide the chained savage with poetic resignation, or indignant sorrow, to make him feel and think in formsas far from reality as the vapors that floated above him were far from being the substantial masses they seemed. Such writings, eloquent and interesting as they often are, do a positive disservice to science. Think, he did: that was to be seen in the eye that softened or grew stern; in its far-away or introverted expression, or quick scrutinizing glance; in the smoothed or corrugated brow, the quivering, contracted, or placid lips; in attitudes indefinably expressive, and variations of his ensemble that cannot be described.
How should human insight penetrate this underworld of the intellect? All things definite there were transmigrations of his own experiences under the stress of heredity. What was emotional, unformed, and yet operative, was the bequest of a wild and free ancestry that sent down their tendencies and traits, gave him his organization, and, with a certainty as inevitable as death, stamped everything that he could think or feel with their “own form and impress.” His ideas were reproductions; his emotions rose into consciousness from unknown depths. The latter set him upon the verge of what his predecessors realized, vaguely revealed their past, prompted those unrecognizable half-memories that are born with every being, prepared him for possibilities from which captivity cut him off, stirred his heart, and made life and the earth all that they were or could be to him.
Varying phases of mind as outwardly evinced, manifested themselves clearly in Gato’s behavior and in his changes of temper. Those serene meditations which had sway during beautiful days, and in the calm of tropicalnights, bore little likeness to states of tension that sometimes possessed him when the storms of the rainy season set in. If an African lion is to be seen in his glory, he must be looked at by the lightning’s glare. It is amid tempest and gloom that the full proportions of his nature come forth. So with this lion of another world. Many a time in the course of those nightly interviews which have been referred to, he roused himself from an intense contemplation of his companion, disturbed by thunder and the tumult without. Then while the wind blew unequally, roared through swaying branches, or mourned around the walls that shut him in, he quickened under the influence of over-tones in nature which human beings cannot hear. Storm and darkness wrought upon him as they will not do upon man. Beyond what was visible or audible, there was something that came from within himself; something that wove “the waste fantasies” of his dreams together, and gave character and purpose to ideation. He showed it in profoundly suggestive pantomime. But what “air-drawn” shapes were followed with those long, swift, soft yet heavy steps, on what his eyes were fixed, what feelings and fancies engrossed and transfigured him, gave that fierce energy, and led him in their train, are unknowable. They had no voice, but only with mute motions pointed backward to a past in which humanity shared no part, and which it cannot explore.
Those who have reared beasts of prey, must, it is probable, read works that describe the expression of their emotions with a certain dissatisfaction. Not for the reason that their authors lacked power, the art of observation, orscientific attainments, but merely because they themselves have seen and felt the influence of so much that is too evasive for definite detail. The grander passions may be painted; in virtue of the unstable equilibrium of nervous elements, and that comparatively imperfect system of connections existing between the centres, they are always explosive. But a world of complex, kaleidoscopic views interpose between fury and tranquility. Feeling cannot be continually intense, nor need it necessarily remain unexpressed because it is not violent. Only those emotions which are for the time absorbing have an unmistakable physiognomy, and these both brutes and higher beings feel but rarely. In attempting anything more than a suggestion of the impression produced by current feeling, the observer is liable to become constructive; to picture himself instead of the model, or to lose the subject in the midst of anatomical, physiological, and psychological details.
Unprovoked dislike, antipathy, permanent and constant in special directions, together with antithetical feelings, which are also said to be spontaneous, Gato possessed in abundance. He gave up trying to kill the Apostle John, but liked him no better than did those heathens who boiled the saint in oil. Whether on account of an animosity he had towards all men, or because in his own fashion he became superstitious about the statue, this much is certain, that if dragged up to it, he took offence. On the other hand, Gato made friends with a horse. Every morning when his groom let him out, Said trotted to the rear of the house, put his head over the half-door looking into the court-yard, and asked for a little wine and sugar with agentle whinny. Sometimes Gato was chained to one of the buttresses of a tamarind and saw him. Often Said walked in on the stone floor and found him loose, as was customary while his guardian remained at home. At first, when actually confronted, the Arab showed a good deal of uneasiness. But the puma was then only half-grown, and upon being reassured, the horse concluded that it was all right, and paid no further attention to him. So this singular compact of neutrality was begun. On Said’s part, it never became anything else. He suffered Gato when a mature and very large animal to walk around him, without any special recognition of his presence, and that was all. On the other hand, the latter respected, or admired, or had some kind of a friendly feeling towards the horse.
In order that he might not remain in that benighted state in which his forefathers lived among wretched Olmecs, Chichemecs, and Otomies whom the Aztecs captured to sacrifice to their war god, it was deemed proper to instruct him in the use and effects of firearms. He approved of cartridges as playthings, and watched them put into the cylinder, but did not think for some time that they were the things that went off and made a noise and flash. When he saw a ball strike, he used to leap at the scar and look for fragments scattered by the shot. Finally, by dint of seeing ammunition exploded, and snuffing empty arms, Gato got some inkling that there was a connection between a pistol he saw charged, and certain effects. Still it is very doubtful whether in his opinion a loaded revolver was dangerous, until experience convinced him that it wouldkill. In other words, he was taught that which unreclaimed wild beasts find out for themselves everywhere on the face of the earth.
What finished his education in this way, was an incident that very nearly proved disastrous to himself. One summer morning while he was fastened in the court-yard, and his guardian sat reading in his sala, a large rabid dog dashed into the room from the street, and without noticing the motionless figure in a chair, rushed out by an opposite door towards the puma, who lay under a tree. Instant aid was necessary to prevent the latter from being bitten; for although at that time he would have torn the dog to pieces, as he had already done in the case of two or three others, this would not have saved him. He witnessed the whole affair; saw the revolver, the aim and flash, heard the report, beheld the dog fall, struggle a moment, and die. Afterwards its body was dragged nearer to him, so he could feel assured that life was gone. Then for the first time did a realizing sense of the potency of this instrument enter into his mind. Subsequent to this occurrence, it was for a while only necessary to wear a pistol to keep Gato at a distance. Once in an unlucky hour his guardian told a servant to aim one at him by way of experiment, and nothing but the promptest and most determined interference saved the man. Charles Darwin (“Expression of the Emotions,” etc.) says that the physiognomy of fear among cats is difficult to describe because it passes so quickly into that of rage. In this case the transition was instantaneous, and a fine fury it was.
The blare of cavalry trumpets, the roll of drums, andclang of bells, attracted Gato’s attention and made him restless, but he was not “moved by concourse of sweet sounds.” They possessed no meaning, and did not cause him to think or feel. To sing to him was a waste of time, and he looked upon a guitar as something that made an insignificant noise. If the strings were roughly and unexpectedly vibrated, the effect resembled any other sudden interruption of meditation or slumber. He was startled, and apprehension instantly took the form of anger, and then passed quickly when he saw what had disturbed his repose. All physiologists will agree with Spencer that “the existing quantity of nerve force liberated at any moment which produces in some inscrutible way the state we call feeling,mustexpend itself in some direction,mustgenerate an equivalent manifestation of force somewhere.” The feeling excited, whatever it may be, will flow in accustomed channels, and manifest itself in what Darwin describes as “habitually associated movements.” This law, and that governing antithetical manifestations, is founded in the physical and mental organization of all creatures, and its expressions vary with the differences obtaining among those of different kinds.
Gato and the members of every species belonging to his family are primarily avatars of force. They inherit as predominant traits those feelings and faculties, those physical specializations and particular aptitudes, which tend to make violence successful. When any nervous shock let loose his energy, it flowed from the centres where it was stored through the most permeable tracts; those which had been most frequently traversed in the historyof the individual and his race; and as this process was necessarily accompanied by corresponding movements, when the strings of a guitar aroused him suddenly, Gato involuntarily assumed the attitudes and exhibited the temper of an excited beast of prey. If startled, teased, or menaced, if impatient, angry, or even pleased, however different may have been the passing feeling, however variously it was expressed, his character always overshadowed him, and gave an air to every outward act; not always in those set forms which Camper, Le Brun, Bell, and Darwin set forth, but unmistakably, and, of course, by the same means through which the typical representations of passion take place.
That sedateness and inertia which, inFelidæespecially, soon supervene upon the restlessness of kittenhood, showed themselves in Gato at an earlier period than usual. This was in a great degree attributable to his rapid and enormous growth. The energy which under ordinary physiological conditions would have remained free to manifest itself in movement, was expended in building his frame.
Many times on looking up and meeting Gato’s gaze as he lay upon a rug contemplating his friend, the expression of those fiery eyes suggested stories of fascination—Arab legends, African and Hindu superstitions about the mesmeric power possessed by tigers and lions. A good deal has been written on this subject which is not much to the purpose. But no one has shown, or can show, that this influence is impossible, or, as it suggested itself to the author in the course of some experiments upon his puma,that susceptible subjects might not, as in cases reported by Charcot and others, hypnotize themselves. Having no way of getting at the relations subsisting between the centres of his brain with any certainty, it occurred to his guardian that a physiological approximation to their state might be made by means of this kind of an impression, and that it would reveal, to a certain extent at least, what is called by French writers the “solidarity” of that organ. The difficulty lay in the first necessary step, according to Heidenhain; namely, in arresting attention. Czermak’s experiments at Leipzig were made upon creatures of a very different character from Gato. By all accounts, hypnotism is impossible except when attentiveness approaches to a wrapped degree of fixedness. The author tried to act upon his puma, but in vain. A bright object placed above him in front might or might not excite special curiosity. If his keeper held it, he looked at him, and probably wondered what new deviltry he was after then.
Often he grew uneasy, or disgusted perhaps, got up, and lay down with his head averted, or closed his lids. Sometimes he walked away, pretending not to notice his companion, though keenly observant of what he was doing all the while. But this eye-to-eye interview was quite as likely to bring the animal close, make him rub against his comrade, or present his head to be stroked. Whatever he did, however, was done of his own accord, and had no reference to the performances of his associate, or to the willpower exerted and wasted on such occasions.
It was easy to see when Gato was apathetic, and plain enough when he was intoxicated with what Willis and theold anatomists called “animal spirits.” In the mean between these extremes lay the mystery. Who was to decide when the panther patted you gently with his sheathed paw, or put his head before the book, whether these solicitations to take notice of him had their root in a need for sympathy, or were signs of a desire to enjoy some pleasant sensation, such as being scratched or played with? One could only guess at this from the clue given by a knowledge of his character.
Much uncertainty exists with regard to the degree in which his æsthetic sense was developed. Whoever has shown pictures to children and savages, knows the great uncertainty attending their recognition of things which are familiar to them. The puma liked glaring colors and bright objects, yet while capable of identifying a large statue, the preference he exhibited for certain paintings depended most probably on their florid style. If his guardian read a work illustrated with engravings while he looked over his shoulder, they made no perceptible impression upon him. He admired gorgeous parrots that cursed him, and for a long time made hostile demonstrations towards a raven who was too wise not to let him alone. Some of the great hunters have thought that those strong predilections exhibited by tigers for certain beautiful localities which otherwise had nothing to recommend them to the choice of such inmates, were evidence of appreciation upon their part of this advantage.
That conclusion is, however, a very uncertain one, and most likely comes under the head of those observations that Czermak designates as “events viewed unequally”;that is to say, the facts are true, but the inference unwarranted. Gato had not much opportunity of studying nature. When, as happened several times during early life, he was taken into wild and solitary places, his attention concentrated itself upon living things. Beside those he seemed to care for nothing, except, perhaps, to be perverse. He climbed trees and would not come down, hid, and pretended not to hear when he was called. Once, improbable as it seems, he lost himself, and when all hope of recovering him appeared to be gone, here came the little wretch, in a very bad temper, nosing out his friend’s trail, and convinced that he had been tormenting him, and done the whole thing on purpose.
It is time to close these memorabilia. Such facts as the records of his life contribute towards the ways of wild beasts, and illustrating their habits and character, have been now brought forward. A book might be written about his adventures and the traits he displayed, yet most of what was most interesting in his character lies on the border land of actual observation, and cannot be distinctly stated.
The manner in which Gato departed this life was worthy of himself, and may be taken as the last proof of his unchanged savagery of spirit. He had never come into actual conflict with a man, not because of unwillingness, but in consequence of the restraint imposed by confinement, bonds, or his guardian’s presence. On the evening of his death he was fastened by the fountain; when, as it is said, for unhappily the writer was absent, a strange dog appeared, whom he sprang at, breaking his chain close tothe collar, and killed. Afterwards he climbed a tree, and while the servants shut themselves up in their apartments, stretched himself out on a limb, and looked down upon the mangled remains of his victim. No doubt the ferocious feelings of his nature were all aroused, and unfortunately just at that time a man rode through the stone passage that in this country serves as a front door. Then the puma came down and flew at him, springing on to the croup of his horse, and wounding, though slightly, both it and its rider. The man being a nervous person, lost his head entirely, and not satisfied with making himself safe in a room whose door was opened to him, must needs fire out of the window with a carbine he found in the apartment. Some people become demented at the sight of their own blood, and this was one of them. He held straight, however, and the ball shattered the animal’s right shoulder and passed backwards into his body. Gato had got between two great roots of the tree when his friend arrived, and that saved him from another shot. The creature was desperate, but too intelligent not to know that he who approached had no part in what he suffered. It was a mortal wound, but death promised to be delayed till that splendid frame was wasted by morbid processes and his life was gasped out in agony. This was not to be endured. The hand of affection did him the last good office, and he died instantly.
Pumas do not charge men in masses. Their victims are chosen among those creatures they find alone. Individuals have sometimes been assailed by more than one. Im Thurn asserts that the “Warracaba tigers” of Guiana,who hunt in families, are pumas. Two persons occasionally appear in authentic records as having been assaulted. Mostly, however, the incidents of any serious adventure of this kind are only known to a single individual, and whether they are ever recounted depends almost entirely upon the way in which the attack is made. A hunter taken by surprise would generally lose his life. This animal is not difficult to kill, and the facility with which it may be disposed of is another reason for disparaging its prowess among the class who most commonly encounter it.
A source of misunderstanding is also found in the special habits of this animal. Those of theFelidæabout which some more or less vague information is most generally diffused, do not climb. The puma is particularly given to doing so wherever forest lands are found within the range of its distribution. Quite as frequently as the Asiatic and African leopard, and more commonly than a jaguar, this beast resorts to trees when pursued. Its reasons for doing so cannot be doubted: it feels at home among the boughs; observation has taught the animal that none of those natural enemies it need avoid can follow. If dogs are on its track, it is well aware that, owing to their superior speed, they are certain to come up with it, and that in taking to the limbs above, its scent will be lost. For this habit but one reason has been commonly assigned; namely, that the puma is a poltroon.
In G. O. Shields’ compilation of monographs upon “The Large Game of North America,” he publishes some narratives that throw light upon the cougar’s character. Revenge is not a very powerful or persistent passion in theFelidæ, but cruelty is. Injuries are soon forgotten, and nobody ever knew a lion or tiger to act in this regard like an elephant. The feline beast never forgets, however, or becomes indifferent to the joy of torture. That is why it is fatal to fear it. The sight of this kind of suffering excites all their fell tendencies. Accidents with these animals are not results of abiding hate and premeditated vengeance, but very often of sudden impulse excited by the sight of apprehension. Deep, concentrated, persistent feeling is beyond theFelidæ. This is why Dio Cassius’ story of Androcles and his lion is untrue; quite as much a romance of the affections as Balzac’s “Passion du Désert.” Gérard’s touching account of his reunion with Hubert at theJardin des Plantesfails, in his version of the animal’s feelings, for the same reason—because it is impossible. No doubt the lion he had reared was glad to see him, but that is not what is conveyed. The picture presented is too like that drawn by Homer of the behavior of Ulysses’ dog, when his “far-travelled” master came back, an unrecognized stranger, to Ithaca. No wild beast of the cat kind ever sat for that portrait.
Shields and others inform us that on several occasions “panthers” have been known to accompany women and children for some distance, and play with them, caper about their paths, and pull at their clothes, without doing further harm than was produced by fright. That these creatures act under the influence of playful moods is certain, but that a wild beast should come out of the woods and in pure lightness of heart invite a perfect stranger to romp, appears to be improbable.
Without pretending to decide upon what the mental or emotional state under such circumstances really was, both the natural character of these beasts, and certain well-known devices, not only of theirs, but of allied species, suggest another explanation. One of the most common means for defence resorted to by this family at large, is an assumption of anger, and the pretence of attack—they try to frighten intruders whom they suspect of an intention to do them harm. When a puma crouches and bares its teeth it is not always enraged, but very frequently does this for the reason that it is uneasy, or dislikes what you are doing and wishes to put an end to something disagreeable by terrifying the objectionable person. It might then happen that a cougar would, when startled by an accidental meeting of this kind, assume an offensive attitude with the intention of intimidating the person met. If it succeeded, apprehension might easily give place for a time to its propensity towards torture, and the beast would then behave much in the same manner, apart from actual violence, as if in the course of its pursuit of prey this had been overtaken. Such situations, however, present none of the conditions that tend towards permanence. In default of speedy rescue, the partially aroused tendencies of the puma would soon become fully awakened, and its impulses break out in acts of bloodshed.