XXIV
WILD ANIMAL CRIMINALS AND CRIME
Many human beings are "good" because they never have been under the harrow of circumstances, nor sufficiently tempted to do wrong. It is only under the strain of strong temptation that human character is put through the thirty-third degree and tried out. No doubt a great many of us could be provoked to join a mob for murder, or forced to steal, or tortured into homicidal insanity. It is only under the artificial conditions of captivity, with loss of freedom, exemption from the daily fear of death, abundant food without compensating labor, and with every want supplied, that the latent wickedness of wild creatures comes to the surface. A captive animal often reveals traits never recognized in the free individual.
"Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands to do."
These manifestations are of many kinds; but we propose to consider the criminal tendencies of wild animals both free and captive.
The persistence of the mental and moral parallelism between men and wild animals is a source of constant surprise. In a state of freedom, untrammeled by anything save the fear of death by violence, the deer or the mountain sheep works out in his own way his chosen scheme for the survival of the fittest,—himself. In the wilds we see very few manifestations of the criminal instinct. A fight between wild elk bulls for the supremacy of a herd is not a manifestation of murder lust, but of obedience to the fundamental law of evolution that the largest, the strongest and the most courageous males of every herd shall do the breeding. The killing of natural prey for daily food is not murder. A starving wolf on the desolate barren grounds may even kill and devour a wounded pack-mate without becoming a criminal by that act alone. True, such a manifestation of hard-heartedness and bad taste is very reprehensible; but its cause is hunger, not sheer blackness of heart. Among wild animals, the wanton killing of a member of the killer's own species would constitute murder in the first degree, and so is all unnecessary and wanton killing outside the killer's own species.
To many a wild animal there comes at tunes the murder lust which under the spur of opportunity leads to genuine crime. In some of the many cases that have come under my notice, the desire to commit murder for the sake of murder has been as sharply defined as the fangs or horns of the criminal. Of the many emotions of wild animals which are revealed more sharply in captivity than in a state of nature, the crime-producing passions, of jealousy, hatred, desire for revenge, and devilish lust for innocent blood, are most prominent. In the management of large animals in captivity, the criminal instinct is quite as great a trouble- breeder and source of anxiety as are wild-animal diseases, and the constant struggle with the elements.
In many cases there is not the slightest premonitory manifestation of murderous intent on the part of a potential criminal. Indeed, with most cunning wisdom, a wild-animal murderer will often conceal his purpose until outside interference is an impossibility, and the victim is entirely helpless. These manifestations of fiendish cunning and premeditation are very exasperating to those responsible for the care of animals in captivity.
In every well regulated zoological park, solitary confinement is regarded as an unhappy or intolerable condition. Animals that live in herds and groups in large enclosures always exercise more, have better appetites, and are much more contented and happy than individuals that are singly confined.
To visitors, a happy and contented community of deer, antelopes, bears, wolves, or birds is a source of far more mental satisfaction than could be found in any number of solitary animals. A small pen with a solitary animal in it at once suggests the prison-and-prisoner idea, and sometimes arouses pity and compassion rather than pleased admiration. The peaceful herd or flock is the thing to strive for as the highest ideal attainable in an exhibition of wild animals. But mark well the difficulties.
All the obstacles encountered in carrying out the community idea are created by the evil propensities of the animals themselves. Among the hoofed animals generally, every pair of horns and front hoofs is a possible storm-center. No keeper knows whether the members of his herd of deer will live together in peace and contentment until tomorrow, or whether, on any autumn or winter night, a buck will suddenly develop in his antlered head the thought that it is a good time to "kill something."
In the pairing season we always watch for trouble, and the danger signal always is up. In October a male elk may become ever so savage, and finally develop into a raging demon, dangerous to man and beast; but when he first manifests his new temper openly and in the broad light of day, we feel that he is treating fairly both his herd-mates and his keepers. If he gives fair warning to the world about him, we must not class him as a mean criminal, no matter what he may do later on. It is our duty to corral him at night according to the violence of his rage. If we separate him from the herd, and he tears a fence in pieces and kills his rival, that is honest, open warfare, not foul murder. But take the following case.
In October, 1905, the New York Zoological Park received from the state of Washington a young mule deer buck and two does. Being conspicuous members of the worst species of "difficult" deer to keep alive at Atlantic tidewater, and being also very thin and weak, it required the combined efforts of several persons to keep them alive. For six months they moped about their corral, but at last they began to improve. The oldest doe gave birth to two fawns which actually survived. But, even when the next mating season began, the buck continued to be lanquid and blase. At no time did he exhibit signs of temper, of even suspicious vigor.
In the middle of the night of November 6, 1906, without the slightest warning, he decided to commit a murder, and the mother of the two nursing fawns was selected as the victim. Being weak from the rearing of her offspring, she was at his mercy. He gored her most savagely, about twenty times, and killed her.
That was deliberate, fiendish and cowardly murder. The killing of any female animal by her male consort is murder; but there are circumstances wherein the plea of temporary insanity is an admissible defense. In the autumn, male members of the deer family often become temporarily insane and irresponsible, and should be judged accordingly. With us, sexual insanity is a recognized disease.
Such distressing cases as the above are so common that whenever I go deer-hunting and kill a lusty buck, the thought occurs to me,— "another undeveloped murderer, perhaps!"
The most exasperating thing about these corral murders is the cunning treachery of the murderers. Here is another typical case: For three years a dainty little male Osceola deer from Florida was as gentle as a fawn and as harmless as a dove. But one crisp morning Keeper Quinn, to whom every doe in his charge is like a foster-daughter, was horrified at finding blood on the absurd little antlers of the Osceola pet. One of the females lay dead in a dark corner where she had been murdered during the night; and this with another and older buck in the same corral which might fairly have been regarded as an offensive rival.
The desire to murder for the sake of killing is born in some carnivorous animals, and by others it is achieved. Among the largest and finest of the felines, the lions and tigers, midnight murders very rarely occur. We never have known one. Individual dislike is shown boldly and openly, and we are given a fair chance to prevent fatalities. Among the lions, tigers, leopards, jaguars and pumas of the New York Zoological Park, there has been but one murder. That was the crime of Lopez, the big jaguar, who richly deserved instant death as a punishment. It was one of the most cunning crimes I have ever seen among wild animals, and is now historic.
For a year Lopez pretended, ostentatiously, to be a good- natured animal! Twenty times at least he acted the part of a playful pet, inviting me to reach in and stroke him. At last we decided to give him a cage-mate, and a fine adult female jaguar was purchased. The animals actually tried to caress each other through the bars, and the big male completely deceived us, one and all.
At the end of two days it was considered safe to permit the female jaguar to enter the cage of Lopez. She was just as much deceived as we were. An animal that is afraid always leaves its traveling- cage slowly and unwillingly, or refuses to leave it at all. When the two sets of doors were opened, the female joyously walked into the cage of her treacherous admirer. In an instant, Lopez rushed upon her, seized her whole neck in his powerful jaws, and crushed her cervical vertebrae by his awful bite. We beat him over the head; we spiked him; we even tried to brain him; but he held her, as a bull-dog would hold a cat, until she was dead. He had determined to murder her, but had cunningly concealed his purpose until his victim was fully in his power.
Bears usually fight "on the square," openly and above-board, rarely committing foul murder. If one bear hates another, he attacks at the very first opportunity, He does not cunningly wait to catch the offender at a disadvantage and beyond the possibility of rescue. Sometimes a captive bear kills a cage-mate or mauls a keeper, but not by the sneaking methods of the human assassin who shoots in the dark and runs away.
I do not count the bear as a common criminal, even though at rare intervals he kills a cage-mate smaller and weaker than himself. One killing of that kind, done by Cinnamon Jim to a small black bear that had annoyed him beyond all endurance, was inflicted as a legitimate punishment, and was so recorded. The attack of two large bears, a Syrian and a sloth bear, upon a small Japanese black bear, in which the big pair deliberately attempted to disembowel the small victim, biting him only in the abdomen, always has been a puzzle to me. I cannot fathom the idea which possessed those two ursine minds; but I have no doubt that some of the book-making men who read the minds of wild animals as if they were open books could tell me all about it.
On the ice-pack in front of his stone hut at the north end of the Franz Josef Archipelago Nansen saw an occurrence that was plain murder. A large male polar bear feeding upon a dead walrus was approached across the ice-pack by two polar-bear cubs. The gorging male immediately stopped feeding and rushed toward the small intruders. They turned and fled wildly; but the villain pursued them, far out upon the ice. He overtook them, killed both, and then serenely returned to his solitary feast.
In February, 1907, a tragedy occurred in the Zoological Park which was a close parallel of the Lopez murder. It was a case in which my only crumb of satisfaction was in my ability to say, "I told you so,"—than which no consolation can be more barren.
For seven years there had lived together in the great polar bears' den of the Zoological Park two full-grown, very large and fine polar bears. They came from William Hagenbeck's great group, and both were males. Their rough-and-tumble wrestling, both in the swimming pool and out of it, was a sight of almost perennial interest; and while their biting and boxing was of the roughest character, and frequently drew blood, they never got angry, and never had a real fight.
In the autumn of 1906 one of the animals sickened and died, and presently the impression prevailed that the survivor was lonesome. The desirability of introducing a female companion was spoken of, but I was afraid to try the experiment.
By and by, Mr. Carl Hagenbeck, who had handled about forty polar bears to my one, wrote to us, offering a fine female polar as a mate to the survivor. She was conceded to be one-third smaller than the big male, but was fully adult. Without loss of time I answered, declining to make the purchase, on the ground that our male bear would kill the female. It was my belief that even if he did not at once deliberately murder her, he soon would wear her out by his rough play.
Mr. Hagenbeck replied with the assurance that, in his opinion, all would be well; that, instead of a tragedy taking place, the male would be delighted with a female companion, and that the pair would breed. As convincing proof of the sincerity of his views, Mr. Hagenbeck offered to lose half the purchase price of the female bear in the event that my worst fears were realized.
I asked the opinion of our head keeper of bears, and after due reflection he said:
"Why, no; I don't believe he'd kill her. He's not a bad bear at all. I think we could work it so that there would be no great trouble."
Mr. Hagenbeck's son also felt sure there would be no tragedy.
Quite against my own judgment of polar-bear character, but in deference to the expert opinion arrayed against mine, I finally yielded. The female bear was purchased, and on her arrival she was placed for three weeks in the large shifting-cage which connects with the eastern side of the great polar bears' den.
The two animals seemed glad to see each other. At once they fraternized through the bars, licked each other's noses, and ate their meals side by side. At night the male always slept as near as possible to his new companion. There was not a sign of ill temper; but, for all that, my doubts were ever present.
At last, after three full weeks of close acquaintance, it was agreed that there was nothing to be gained by longer delay in admitting the female to the large den. But we made preparations for trouble. The door of the sleeping-den was oiled and overhauled and put in thorough working order, so that if the female should dash into it for safety, a keeper could instantly slide the barrier and shut her in. We provided pike-poles, long iron bars, lariats, meat, and long planks a foot wide. Heartily wishing myself a hundred miles away, I summoned all my courage and gave the order:
"Open her door, a foot only, and let her put her head out. Keep him away."
The female bear had not the slightest fear or premonition of danger. Thrusting her head through the narrow opening, she looked upon the world and the open sky above, and found that it was good. She struggled to force the door open wider; and the male stood back, waiting.
"Let her go!" Forcing the door back with her own eager strength, she fearlessly dropped the intervening eighteen inches to the floor of the den, and was free. The very next second the male flung his great bulk upon her, and the tragedy was on.
I would not for five thousand dollars see such a thing again. A hundred times in the twenty minutes that followed I bitterly regretted my folly in acting contrary to my own carefully formed conclusions regarding the temper, the strength, and the mental processes of that male bear.
He never left her alone for ten seconds, save when, at five or six different times, we beat him off by literally ramming him away. When she first fell, the slope of the floor brought her near the cage bars, which gave us a chance to fight for her. We beat him over the head; we drove big steel spikes into him; and we rammed him with planks, not caring how many bones we might break. But each time that we beat him off, and the poor harried female rose to her feet, he flung himself upon her anew, crushed her down upon the snow, and fought to reach her throat!
Gallantly the female fought for her life, with six wild men to help her. After a long battle,—it seemed like hours, but I suppose it was between twenty and thirty minutes, the male bear recognized the fact that so long as the female lay near the bars his own punishment would continue and the end would be postponed. Forthwith he seized his victim and dragged her inward and down to the ice that covered the swimming-pool in the centre of the den, beyond our reach. The floor of the den was so slippery from ice and snow that it was utterly unsafe for any of our men to enter and try to approach the now furious animal within striking distance.
Very quickly some choice pieces of fresh meat were thrown within six feet of the bears, in the hope that the male would be tempted away from his victim. In vain! Then, with all possible haste, Keeper Mulvehill coiled a lasso, bravely entered the den, and with the first throw landed the noose neatly around the neck of the male bear. In a second it was jerked taut, the end passed through the bars, and ten eager arms dragged the big bear away from his victim and close up to the bars. Another lariat was put on him to guard against breakages, and no bear ever missed being choked to death by a narrower margin than did that one. That morsel of revenge was sweet. While he was held thus, two men went in and attached a rope to the now dying female, and she was quickly dragged into the shifting-cage.
But the rescue came too late. At the last moment on the ice, the canine teeth of the big bear had severed the jugular vein of the female, and in two minutes after her rescue she was dead. It is my belief that at first the male did not intend to murder the female. I think his first impulse was to play with her, as he had always done with the male comrade of his own size. But the joy of combat seized him, and after that his only purpose was to kill. My verdict was, not premeditated murder, but murder in the second degree.
In the order of carnivorous animals, I think the worst criminals are found in the Marten Family (Mustelidae); and if there is a more murderous villain than the mink, I have yet to find him out. The mink is a midnight assassin, who loves slaughter for the joy of murder. The wolverine, the marten, mink and weasel are all courageous, savage and merciless. To the wolverine Western trappers accord the evil distinction of being a veritable imp of darkness on four legs. To them he is the arch-fiend, beyond which animal cunning and depravity cannot go. Excepting the profane history of the pickings and stealings of this "mountain devil" as recorded by suffering trappers, I know little of it; but if its instincts are not supremely murderous, its reputation is no index of its character.
The mink, however, is a creature that we know and fear. Along the rocky shores of the Bronx River, even in the Zoological Park, it perversely persisted long after our park-building began. In spite of traps, guns, and poison, and the killing of from three to five annually in our Park, Putorius vison would not give up. With us, the only creatures that practiced wholesale and unnecessary murder were minks and dogs. The former killed our birds, and during one awful period when a certain fence was being rebuilt, the latter destroyed several deer. A mink once visited an open-air yard containing twenty-two pinioned laughing gulls, and during that noche triste killed all of those ill-fated birds. It did not devour even one, and it sucked the blood of only two or three.
On another tragic occasion a mink slaughtered an entire flock of fifteen gulls; but its joy of killing was short-lived, for it was quickly caught and clubbed to death. A miserable little weasel killed three fine brant geese, purely for the love of murder; and then he departed this life by the powder-and-lead route.
All the year round captive buffalo bulls are given to fighting, and for one bull to injure or kill another is an occurrence all too common. Even in the great twenty-seven thousand acre reserve of the Corbin Blue Mountain Forest Association, fatal fights sometimes occur. It was left to a large bull named Black Beauty, in our Zoological Park herd, to reveal the disagreeable fact that under certain circumstances a buffalo may become a cunning and deliberate assassin.
In the spring of 1904, a new buffalo bull, named Apache, was added to the portion of our herd which up to that time had been dominated by Black Beauty. We expected the usual head-to-head battle for supremacy, succeeded by a period of peace and quiet. It is the law of the herd that after every contest for supremacy the vanquished bull shall accept the situation philosophically, and thereafter keep his place.
At the end of a half-hour of fierce struggle, head-to-head, Black Beauty was overpowered by Apache, and fled from him into the open range. To emphasize his victory, Apache followed him around and around at a quiet walk, for several hours; but the beaten bull always kept a factor of safety of about two hundred feet between himself and the master of the herd. Convinced that Black Beauty would no longer dispute his supremacy, Apache at last pronounced for peace and thought no more about the late unpleasantness. His rival seemed to accept the situation, and rejoined the herd on the subdued status of an ex-president.
For several days nothing occurred; but all the while Black Beauty was biding his time and watching for an opportunity. At last it came. As Apache lay dozing and ruminating on a sunny hill-side, his beaten rival quietly drifted around his resting-place, stealthily secured a good position, and, without a second's warning plunged his sharp horns deep into the lungs of the reclining bull. With the mad energy of pent-up and superheated fury, the assassin delivered stab after stab into the unprotected side of the helpless victim, and before Apache could gain his feet he had been gored many times. He lived only a few minutes.
It was foul murder, fully premeditated; and had Black Beauty been my personal property, he would have been executed for the crime, without any objections, or motions, or appeals, or far-fetched certificates of unreasonable doubt.
During the past twenty years a number of persons have been treacherously murdered by animals they had fed and protected. One of the most deplorable of these tragedies occurred late in 1906, near Montclair, New Jersey. Mr. Herbert Bradley was the victim. While walking through his deer park, he was wantonly attacked by a white-tailed buck and murdered on the spot. At Helena, Montana, a strong man armed with a pitchfork was killed by a bull elk. There have been several other fatalities from elk.
The greater number of such crimes as the above have been committed by members of the Deer Family (deer, elk, moose and caribou). The hollow-horned ruminants seem to be different. I believe that toward their keepers the bison, buffaloes and wild cattle entertain a certain measure of respect that in members of the Deer Family often is totally absent. But there are exceptions; and a very sad and notable case was the murder of Richard W. Rock, of Henry's Lake, Idaho, in 1903.
Dick Rock was a stalwart ranchman in the prime of life, who possessed a great fondness for big-game animals. He lived not far from the western boundry of the Yellowstone Park. He liked to rope elk and moose in winter, and haul them on sleds to his ranch; to catch mountain goats or mule deer for exhibition; and to breed buffaloes. His finest bull buffalo, named Indian, was one of his favorites, and was broken to ride! Scores of times Rock rode him around the corral, barebacked and without bridle or halter. Rock felt that he could confidently trust the animal, and he never dreamed of guarding himself against a possible evil day.
But one day the blood lust seized the buffalo, and he decided to assassinate his best friend. The next time Dick Rock entered the corral, closing the gate and fastening it securely,—thus shutting himself in,—the big bull attacked him so suddenly and fiercely that there was not a moment for either escape or rescue. We can easily estimate the suddenness of the attack by the fact that alert and active Dick Rock had not time even to climb upon the fence of the corral, whereby his life would have been saved. With a mighty upward thrust, the treacherous bull drove one of his horns deeply into his master's body, and impaled him so completely and so securely that the man hung there and died there! As a crowning horror, the bull was unable to dislodge his victim, and the body of the ranchman was carried about the corral on the horns of his assassin until the horrified wife went a mile and a half and summoned a neighbor, who brought a rifle and executed the murderer on the spot.
Such sudden onslaughts as this make it unsafe to trust implicitly, and without recourse, to the good temper of any animal having dangerous horns.
If bird-lovers knew the prevalence of the murder instinct among the feathered folk, no doubt they would be greatly shocked. Many an innocent-looking bird is really a natural villain without opportunity to indulge in crime. It is in captivity that the wickedness inherent in wild creatures comes to the surface and becomes visible. In the open, the weak ones manage to avoid danger, and to escape when threatened; but, with twenty birds in one large cage, escape is not always possible. A "happy-family" of a dozen or twenty different species often harbors a criminal in its midst; and when the criminal cunningly waits until all possibilities of rescue are eliminated, an assassination is the result.
[Illustration with caption: RICHARD W. ROCK AND HIS BUFFALO MURDERER This bison treacherously killed the man soon after this picture was made]
[Illustration with caption: "BLACK BEAUTY" MURDERING "APACHE">[ Here is a partial list of the crimes in our bird collection during one year:
A green jay killed a blue jay. A jay-thrush and several smaller birds were killed by laughing thrushes,—which simply love to do murder! A nightingale was killed by a catbird and two mocking- birds. Two snake-birds killed a third one—all of them thoroughly depraved villains. Three gulls murdered another; a brown pelican was killed by trumpeter-swans; and a Canada goose was killed by a gull. All these victims were birds in good health.
It is deplorable, but nevertheless true, that in large mixed companies of birds, say where forty or fifty live together, it is a common thing for a sick bird to be set upon and killed, unless rescued by the keepers. In crimes of this class birds often murder their own kind, but they are quite as ready to kill members of other species. In 1902 a sick brant goose was killed by its mates; and so were a red-tailed hawk, two saras cranes, two black vultures, a road-runner, and a great horned owl. An aged and sickly wood ibis was killed by a whooping crane; and a night heron killed its mate.
Strange as it may seem, among reptiles there is far less of real first-degree murder than among mammals and birds. Twenty rattlesnakes may be crowded together in one cage, without a family jar. Even among cobras, perhaps the most irritable and pugnacious of all serpents, I think one snake never wantonly murders another, although about once in twenty years one will try to swallow another. The big pythons and anacondas never fight, nor try to commit murder. And yet, a twenty-foot regal python with a bad heart—like Nansen's polar bear—could easily constrict and kill any available snake of smaller size.
At this moment I do not recall one instance of wanton murder among serpents. It is well known that some snakes devour other snakes; but that is not crime. The record of the crocodilians is not so clear. It is a common thing for the large alligators in our Reptile House to battle for supremacy and in these contests several fatalities have occurred. Some of these occurrences are not of the criminal sort; but when a twelve-foot alligator attacks and kills a six-foot individual, entirely out of his class and far too small to fight with him, it is murder. An alligator will seize the leg of a rival and by violently whirling around on his axis, like a revolving shaft, twist the leg completely off.
Among sea creatures, the clearly defined criminal instinct, as exhibited aside from the never-ending struggle for existence and the quest of food, is rarely observed, possibly because opportunities are so few. The sanguinary exploits of the grampus, or whale-killer, among whales small enough to be killed and eaten, are the onslaughts of a marine glutton in quest of food.
Among the fishes there is one murderer whose evil reputation is well deserved. The common swordfish of the Atlantic, forty miles or so off Block Island or Montauk Point, is not only one of the most fearless of all fishes, but it also is the most dangerous. His fierce attacks upon the boats of men who have harpooned him and seek to kill him are well known, and his unparalleled courage fairly challenges our wonder and admiration. But, unfortunately, the record of the swordfish is stained with crime. When the spirit of murder prompts him to commit a crime in sheer wantonness, he will attack a whale, stab the unfortunate monster again and again, and pursue it until it is dead. This is prompted solely by brutality and murder lust, for the swordfish feeds upon fish, and never attempts to eat any portion of a whale. It can easily be proved that wild animals in a normal state of nature are by no means as much given to murder, either of their own kind or other kinds, as are many races of men. The infrequency of animal murders cannot be due wholly to the many possibilities for the intended victim to escape, nor to difficulty in killing. In every wild species murders are abundantly possible; but it is wholly against the laws of nature for free wild beasts to kill one another in wantonness. It is left to the savage races of men to commit murders without cause, and to destroy one another by fire. The family crimes and cruelties of people both civilized and savage completely eclipse in blackness and in number the doings of even the worst wild beasts. In wild animals and in men, crime is an index to character. The finest species of animals and the noblest races of men are alike distinguished by their abhorrence of the abuse of the helpless and the shedding of innocent blood. The lion, the elephant, the wild horse, the grizzly bear, the orang-utan, the eagle and the whooping crane are singularly free from the criminal instinct. On the other hand, even today Africa contains tribes whose members are actually fond of practicing cruelty and murder. In the Dark Continent there has lived many a "king" beside whom a hungry lion or a grizzly bear is a noble citizen.