Gradually the beast ceased to roar and bellow and leap. At last he came to the bars, and the hand of a woman scratched at his head. The fierce beast was dangerous no longer. All he had wanted was kindness and companionship!
CHAPTER III
CHARACTER IN THE CAGES
ONCE upon a time I saw a gang fight, down in the gas-house district of New York. The street had been quiet a moment before, save for two men walking toward each other, and a group of be-capped, furtive-eyed individuals lounging in front of a cigar store, intent upon nothing, apparently, save loafing. Then the first blow was struck as the two men met!
Immediately that crowd of loafers leaped into action; soon they were crowded about the fighting pair; darting and leaping in their attempt to reach the man whom they strove to overcome. At last the struggling twain broke for a moment, giving an opportunity for the gang to reach its victim; soon the overpowered man lay an unconscious thing of welts and wounds upon the pavement, while the gang slunk away into places of hiding lest they be discovered upon the arrival of the police.
Not so long ago, I saw another gang fight. This time the scene was not a city street but the “permanent cages” of a menagerie in the winter quarters of a big circus. The victim was a hyena; the gang composed of striped Bengal tigers. But the tactics were just the same!
One began the fight, centering every attention of his victim upon himself. Then while the howling, loathsome hyena strove his best to ward off the attack of a superior foe, the three other Bengal tigers crept upon him unaware, caught him with their heavy claws, dragged him through an opening beneath the sliding door of the cage partition—then ripped him to pieces! It was the gas-house district fight all over again!
In fact, when quarrels and bickerings and temper are concerned, one encounters some strange things in the menagerie of a big circus—and for it all, there is only one parallel. For once a person becomes interested enough to look behind the scenes. The menagerie ceases to become such; it metamorphoses into a distinct community. The investigator finds that everything with which a chief of police is forced to cope in an ordinary town is work for the menagerie superintendent also. The same fights, the same quarrels, the same hatreds are there; the only difference is that the chief of police has the advantage. He copes with human beings, to whom he can talk, and whom he can warn against future infractions of the law. The law-breakers under the supervision of the menagerie superintendent are animals; one can’t punish a lion by fining him five bones. He doesn’t know what is meant by it and simply stores up a new grudge because he’s been deprived of his food, while the rest of the menagerie is glutting itself with an extra portion.
With the result that there is far more lawlessness in the menagerie than there is in the community. When Bill Jones comes home to dinner with a headache there may be a quarrel because of his grouch, and he may tell his wife that she’s the world’s worst cook, or make a few other choice and personal remarks, but as a rule, he doesn’t pick up the ax and carve his initials in her head with it. But when some one crosses a lion that’s suffering from headache, the sky’s the limit. Into action leap his claws and teeth, and unless there are plenty of prod bars and feeding forks handy, the result, all too often, is another family murder. When a jungle beast is the owner and possessor of a side-splitting headache, he doesn’t care how soon he kills his mate, the quicker the better. After which, perhaps, he can get a bit of uninterrupted rest.
More, in the menagerie, a headache is a perfectly good alibi. It wouldn’t amount to much for a man to stand in court and announce that he killed his wife because his head or tooth ached, or because he had an ingrowing toenail. But in the menagerie, the justifications are a bit different. Animal men realize that the caged charges under their care cannot know what is wrong with them, and what gives them such a terrific grouch, and so they blame themselves when these things happen and render a verdict:
“We, the jury, find that the Lioness Trilby came to her death because she bothered Duke, who was suffering from indigestion.”