On the training of a game-cock, his owner spends much time, care, and forethought. The bird's diet is regulated to a nicety: so much boiled rice per diem, so much water, so much meat, hashed fine and mixed with medicinal herbs. One a week, a bath is given him, after which he is taken in his coop to a sunny place to dry; and he is subjected to a regular course of massage at the hands of his trainer, who, taking the bird into his lap, with careful finger and thumb, "pichits" or shampoos the muscles of neck, wings, and legs, to make them supple and strong. Connoisseurs arrive from compound and "kampongs" to exchange criticisms. The age, strength, and agility of rival birds are discussed at length and finally, when there is a sufficient number in good condition, a match is arranged.
A Chinese carpenter.
A Chinese Dyer.
The amateurs arrive at the spot, each carrying his bird cooped up in a cage of banana-leaves, through opposite openings in which the head, shorn of its comb, and the tail protrude. A ring is formed, every one squatting down, with his cage in front of him; and the birds are taken out, and passed round for general inspection. After careful comparison and deliberation, two of approximately equal strength are selected as antagonists, and the umpire, whose office it is to arm the birds with the trenchant steel spurs, further equalizes chances by attaching the weapons of the weaker party to the spot where they will prove most effective: high up the leg. The owners then take up each his own bird, allow the two to peck at each other once or twice, put them down upon the ground again, and, at the signal given by the umpire, let go. The cocks fight furiously. Generally, one of the two is killed; and, almost inevitably, both are cruelly injured by the long, two-edged knives attached to their legs in place of the cut-off spurs.
Cricket-fights do not seem quite as brutal: the natural weapons of the little combatants, at least, are not artificially added to; and victory, it appears, is as often achieved by courage and skill as by mere force. It is said that even more patience is required to train a game-cock; and the process certainly seems elaborate.
First, there is the catching of the "changkrik." For this, the amateur goes, after nightfall, to some solitary spot out in the fields or woods—preferably near the grave of some Moslem saint, or royal hero, or in the shadow of some sacred tree, the "changkriks" caught in these consecrated places being considered much superior to those of the ditch and garden as participating in the virtue of their habitat. Here, then, the amateur builds some stones into a loose heap, hiding in the midst of it a decoy "changkrik" in a little bamboo cage and retreats. When, a little before dawn, he again approaches the spot, treading cautiously, and shading the light of his little lantern, he is sure to surprise quite a company of crickets gathered around the mound and crouching under the stones, whither they have been lured by the shrill song of the captive insect; and, if he is adroit, he may catch a score at a time. Only the finest and strongest of these he retains; and straightway the work of education is begun.
The miniature stage on which the lives and adventures of Hindoo heroes, queens and saints are acted over again by puppets of gilt and painted leather.