What he says about the animal’s deficiency in sight and scenting power is not supported in any way by facts. There is nothing in the creature’s anatomy to warrant such an assertion. Its olfactory apparatus is well developed, and as it is a beast of prey, and belongs to a family distinguished for keenness of scent, there is no reason to think that this function does not correspond with its structure. Neither is there anything, so far as the writer knows, in the better class of observations made upon lions, to indicate any deficiency in this respect. With reference to sight, if Buffon meant more than that they, as being nocturnal in habit, are at a disadvantage in the sun’s glare, it was, we must believe, a mistake upon his part. Their organ of sight is structurally of a high order; it is so placed that the range of vision is large, and no good authority has disparaged the lion’s far-sightedness, or the defining power of his eye.
None of the great cats is, however, strictly nocturnal except in places where they are constantly pursued. Lions frequently stalk or drive game while the sun is up; they see perfectly well during these hours, and it is evidently a mistake to give the primary importance commonly attributed to it to a peculiarity of vision which the Felidæ have in common with other classes.
Buffon’s opinion of the use to which lions put jackals falls to the ground before facts. It is an old idea that they, and tigers also, employ them as scouts; nevertheless it would appear that the true relation has been overlooked, and that it is the jackal who uses the lion. When a lion leaves his lair he always roars, and if any jackals are in the vicinity, the sound attracts them at once; it is like an invitation to a meal, for these satellites feast upon the offal. Similarly, as the lion’s majestic form moves with long and soft but heavy tread through the gloom, every jackal that sights the grim hunter follows him.
In works on natural history lions are classed among the educabilia. There is, however, a certain ludicrousness in distinguishing this animal as one that can be taught. So can a flea. Every creature with a nervous system may be and is instructed in some manner. All living things so provided learn, though not necessarily through tuition, nor in all cases consciously. Dr. Maudsley’s remark (“Physiology and Pathology of the Mind”), that “a spinal cord without memory would be an idiotic spinal cord,” is full of meaning. Wherever a nervous arc exists, there is memory and the potentialities of mind. The central axis is nothing more than an integrated series of such connected arcs ending in a brain when the animal is sufficiently elevated.
A whelp is born in the spring, or towards the close of winter, a little sooner or later, as the latitude varies. Before this event the parents have fixed upon some solitary spot in which to establish themselves. The mother’s character undergoes a temporary change for the better during the period of maternity. While the pairing season lasts she is a shameless wanton, ready at any moment to abandon her mate for a stronger rival. Desperate combats accompany the lion’s courtship, in which both parties are frequently killed, and in almost all instances these are brought on by the lioness, who seems to take a savage pleasure in provoking such duels.
Gérard gives the following story, which is in all essentials a true picture of the behavior of both males and females at the time spoken of. “It was in the stags’ rutting season, and Mohammed, a great hunter of every kind of wild animal, perched himself at sunset in the boughs of an oak tree to watch for a doe that had been seen wandering in the vicinity, accompanied by several stags. The tree he climbed stood in the middle of a large clearing, and near it was a path which led into the neighboring forest. Towards midnight he saw a lioness enter this open space, followed by a red lion, with a full-grown mane, who carried the carcass of an ox. Soon after they were followed by another lion, a lioness, and three cubs. The first lioness strolled from the path, and came and laid herself down at the foot of the oak, while the lion remained in the path, and seemed to be listening to some sound as yet inaudible to the hunter.
“Mohammed soon heard a distant roaring in the forest, and the lioness immediately answered it. Then the lion commenced to roar with a voice so loud that the frightened man let his gun fall, and held fast to the branch with both hands lest he should tumble from the tree.
“As the voice of the animal heard in the distance gradually approached, the lioness welcomed him with renewed roarings, and the lion, restless, went and came from the path to her, as if he wished her to keep silence, and then, from the lioness to the path again, as if to say, ‘Let the vagabond come; he will meet his match.’
“In about an hour, a large lion as black as a wild boar stepped out of the forest and stood on the edge of the clearing in the full moonlight. The lioness raised herself up to go to him, but the lion anticipating her intention, rushed before her, and marched straight towards his adversary. With measured steps and slow they approached to within a dozen paces of each other; their great heads high in air, their tails slowly sweeping down the grass that grew around them. They crouched to the earth; a moment’s pause, and then they bounded with a roar high in air, and rolled upon the ground, locked in their last embrace.
“Their struggle was long and fearful to the involuntary witness of this midnight duel. The bones of the combatants cracked under their powerful jaws, their talons strewed the grass with entrails, and painted it red with blood, and their roarings, now guttural, now sharp and loud, told of their rage and agony.