The Training of Wild Animals

by Frank Charles Bostock

Therefore, as soon as the public has disappeared after the evening performance, a busy time begins in the animal-show. Most of the lights are turned out. The bolts, bars, and doors of each cage are looked at; certain men go round the show at stated intervals to make sure that there is no danger of fire, and the trainers equip themselves for their dangerous experiments, and begin to turn their animals out for their lessons.

By this time most of the animals have partly settled down for the night, with the exception of some few who, unable to forget their natural feelings, are restlessly pacing up and down their cages. But however quiet it may happen to be at the time of closing, the minute a trainer makes his animals come out of their various cages and go into the arena, peace is at an end. To get the animals out of their cages and into the arena is most difficult and dangerous. Sometimes they come out with a rush at the trainer and his assistants, and sometimes they remain in a corner and refuse to move in spite of persuasions, coaxings, or threats. In this case there is nothing for the trainer to do but to go into the cage and drive the animal out.

The animal generally gives in, and finally leaves the cage and sulkily betakes himself to the arena; but he always relieves his feelings by growls or roars, and these resentful protests are promptly answered by nearly all the other animals in the building.

This is specially the case when a strange animal is led out, for animals are peculiarly quick in recognizing and resenting the presence of a stranger. The natural instinct is to get at the intruder and have a fight, in order to prove which is the superior of the two, and, failing in this, their only form of relief lies in roaring at the top of their voices. When one starts, another follows, and then another, until at last scarcely an animal in the building is silent.

The lion generally starts with three big roars, ending up with the curious, short, gasping barks so characteristic of him. The other lions follow in chorus; the tigers roar in concert; the jaguars, leopards, and panthers give their peculiar coughing growls; the peccary sends forth his choking cry, so like a desperate appeal for help; and the bears growl a surly accompaniment.

Occasionally, should an elephant be receiving his first lessons, he will introduce a few notes of shrill trumpeting as a relief to the roars and growls, and a hyena will suddenly burst out in fiendish, hysterical laughter, while the wolves and coyotes keep up a low, monotonous howling, which to some people is worse than all the other cries, screams, and roars put together.

Added to all these weird sounds, the cages, with the exception of the arena, are in darkness, and the soft, stealthy tread of footsteps and an occasional gleam of green and yellow eyes from all corners, make it necessary that trainers should not only have strong muscles and nerves, but plenty of cool courage and self-control. For many of the strongest men are totally unnerved by surroundings of this kind.

There is, of course, always the chance that an animal may get out, and if a man once begins to dwell on these things and becomes nervous, imagining he hears various noises, his training is absolutely worthless. He must give his whole, undivided attention to what he is doing, both for his own sake and that of the animal he is training.

Of course, accidents occur while training as well as when performing in public, but comparatively few accidents ever take place at night. This may possibly be because there is nothing likely to startle the animals, or because they themselves feel the effect of the dim lights and the silence.

A curious thing once happened which might have proved disastrous. A trainer had been through his performance with his animals, had seen them safely back into their cages, and was just going through the building on his way to his rooms, which were overhead, when he thought he heard a movement. It sounded like the scuttling of a rat, and, being unable to see what it was, he struck a match and lighted a small lantern he carried in his hand.