Varying phases of mind as outwardly evinced, manifested themselves clearly in Gato’s behavior and in his changes of temper. Those serene meditations which had sway during beautiful days, and in the calm of tropical nights, bore little likeness to states of tension that sometimes possessed him when the storms of the rainy season set in. If an African lion is to be seen in his glory, he must be looked at by the lightning’s glare. It is amid tempest and gloom that the full proportions of his nature come forth. So with this lion of another world. Many a time in the course of those nightly interviews which have been referred to, he roused himself from an intense contemplation of his companion, disturbed by thunder and the tumult without. Then while the wind blew unequally, roared through swaying branches, or mourned around the walls that shut him in, he quickened under the influence of over-tones in nature which human beings cannot hear. Storm and darkness wrought upon him as they will not do upon man. Beyond what was visible or audible, there was something that came from within himself; something that wove “the waste fantasies” of his dreams together, and gave character and purpose to ideation. He showed it in profoundly suggestive pantomime. But what “air-drawn” shapes were followed with those long, swift, soft yet heavy steps, on what his eyes were fixed, what feelings and fancies engrossed and transfigured him, gave that fierce energy, and led him in their train, are unknowable. They had no voice, but only with mute motions pointed backward to a past in which humanity shared no part, and which it cannot explore.
Those who have reared beasts of prey, must, it is probable, read works that describe the expression of their emotions with a certain dissatisfaction. Not for the reason that their authors lacked power, the art of observation, or scientific attainments, but merely because they themselves have seen and felt the influence of so much that is too evasive for definite detail. The grander passions may be painted; in virtue of the unstable equilibrium of nervous elements, and that comparatively imperfect system of connections existing between the centres, they are always explosive. But a world of complex, kaleidoscopic views interpose between fury and tranquility. Feeling cannot be continually intense, nor need it necessarily remain unexpressed because it is not violent. Only those emotions which are for the time absorbing have an unmistakable physiognomy, and these both brutes and higher beings feel but rarely. In attempting anything more than a suggestion of the impression produced by current feeling, the observer is liable to become constructive; to picture himself instead of the model, or to lose the subject in the midst of anatomical, physiological, and psychological details.
Unprovoked dislike, antipathy, permanent and constant in special directions, together with antithetical feelings, which are also said to be spontaneous, Gato possessed in abundance. He gave up trying to kill the Apostle John, but liked him no better than did those heathens who boiled the saint in oil. Whether on account of an animosity he had towards all men, or because in his own fashion he became superstitious about the statue, this much is certain, that if dragged up to it, he took offence. On the other hand, Gato made friends with a horse. Every morning when his groom let him out, Said trotted to the rear of the house, put his head over the half-door looking into the court-yard, and asked for a little wine and sugar with a gentle whinny. Sometimes Gato was chained to one of the buttresses of a tamarind and saw him. Often Said walked in on the stone floor and found him loose, as was customary while his guardian remained at home. At first, when actually confronted, the Arab showed a good deal of uneasiness. But the puma was then only half-grown, and upon being reassured, the horse concluded that it was all right, and paid no further attention to him. So this singular compact of neutrality was begun. On Said’s part, it never became anything else. He suffered Gato when a mature and very large animal to walk around him, without any special recognition of his presence, and that was all. On the other hand, the latter respected, or admired, or had some kind of a friendly feeling towards the horse.
In order that he might not remain in that benighted state in which his forefathers lived among wretched Olmecs, Chichemecs, and Otomies whom the Aztecs captured to sacrifice to their war god, it was deemed proper to instruct him in the use and effects of firearms. He approved of cartridges as playthings, and watched them put into the cylinder, but did not think for some time that they were the things that went off and made a noise and flash. When he saw a ball strike, he used to leap at the scar and look for fragments scattered by the shot. Finally, by dint of seeing ammunition exploded, and snuffing empty arms, Gato got some inkling that there was a connection between a pistol he saw charged, and certain effects. Still it is very doubtful whether in his opinion a loaded revolver was dangerous, until experience convinced him that it would kill. In other words, he was taught that which unreclaimed wild beasts find out for themselves everywhere on the face of the earth.
What finished his education in this way, was an incident that very nearly proved disastrous to himself. One summer morning while he was fastened in the court-yard, and his guardian sat reading in his sala, a large rabid dog dashed into the room from the street, and without noticing the motionless figure in a chair, rushed out by an opposite door towards the puma, who lay under a tree. Instant aid was necessary to prevent the latter from being bitten; for although at that time he would have torn the dog to pieces, as he had already done in the case of two or three others, this would not have saved him. He witnessed the whole affair; saw the revolver, the aim and flash, heard the report, beheld the dog fall, struggle a moment, and die. Afterwards its body was dragged nearer to him, so he could feel assured that life was gone. Then for the first time did a realizing sense of the potency of this instrument enter into his mind. Subsequent to this occurrence, it was for a while only necessary to wear a pistol to keep Gato at a distance. Once in an unlucky hour his guardian told a servant to aim one at him by way of experiment, and nothing but the promptest and most determined interference saved the man. Charles Darwin (“Expression of the Emotions,” etc.) says that the physiognomy of fear among cats is difficult to describe because it passes so quickly into that of rage. In this case the transition was instantaneous, and a fine fury it was.
The blare of cavalry trumpets, the roll of drums, and clang of bells, attracted Gato’s attention and made him restless, but he was not “moved by concourse of sweet sounds.” They possessed no meaning, and did not cause him to think or feel. To sing to him was a waste of time, and he looked upon a guitar as something that made an insignificant noise. If the strings were roughly and unexpectedly vibrated, the effect resembled any other sudden interruption of meditation or slumber. He was startled, and apprehension instantly took the form of anger, and then passed quickly when he saw what had disturbed his repose. All physiologists will agree with Spencer that “the existing quantity of nerve force liberated at any moment which produces in some inscrutible way the state we call feeling, must expend itself in some direction, must generate an equivalent manifestation of force somewhere.” The feeling excited, whatever it may be, will flow in accustomed channels, and manifest itself in what Darwin describes as “habitually associated movements.” This law, and that governing antithetical manifestations, is founded in the physical and mental organization of all creatures, and its expressions vary with the differences obtaining among those of different kinds.
Gato and the members of every species belonging to his family are primarily avatars of force. They inherit as predominant traits those feelings and faculties, those physical specializations and particular aptitudes, which tend to make violence successful. When any nervous shock let loose his energy, it flowed from the centres where it was stored through the most permeable tracts; those which had been most frequently traversed in the history of the individual and his race; and as this process was necessarily accompanied by corresponding movements, when the strings of a guitar aroused him suddenly, Gato involuntarily assumed the attitudes and exhibited the temper of an excited beast of prey. If startled, teased, or menaced, if impatient, angry, or even pleased, however different may have been the passing feeling, however variously it was expressed, his character always overshadowed him, and gave an air to every outward act; not always in those set forms which Camper, Le Brun, Bell, and Darwin set forth, but unmistakably, and, of course, by the same means through which the typical representations of passion take place.
That sedateness and inertia which, in Felidæ especially, soon supervene upon the restlessness of kittenhood, showed themselves in Gato at an earlier period than usual. This was in a great degree attributable to his rapid and enormous growth. The energy which under ordinary physiological conditions would have remained free to manifest itself in movement, was expended in building his frame.
Many times on looking up and meeting Gato’s gaze as he lay upon a rug contemplating his friend, the expression of those fiery eyes suggested stories of fascination—Arab legends, African and Hindu superstitions about the mesmeric power possessed by tigers and lions. A good deal has been written on this subject which is not much to the purpose. But no one has shown, or can show, that this influence is impossible, or, as it suggested itself to the author in the course of some experiments upon his puma, that susceptible subjects might not, as in cases reported by Charcot and others, hypnotize themselves. Having no way of getting at the relations subsisting between the centres of his brain with any certainty, it occurred to his guardian that a physiological approximation to their state might be made by means of this kind of an impression, and that it would reveal, to a certain extent at least, what is called by French writers the “solidarity” of that organ. The difficulty lay in the first necessary step, according to Heidenhain; namely, in arresting attention. Czermak’s experiments at Leipzig were made upon creatures of a very different character from Gato. By all accounts, hypnotism is impossible except when attentiveness approaches to a wrapped degree of fixedness. The author tried to act upon his puma, but in vain. A bright object placed above him in front might or might not excite special curiosity. If his keeper held it, he looked at him, and probably wondered what new deviltry he was after then.
Often he grew uneasy, or disgusted perhaps, got up, and lay down with his head averted, or closed his lids. Sometimes he walked away, pretending not to notice his companion, though keenly observant of what he was doing all the while. But this eye-to-eye interview was quite as likely to bring the animal close, make him rub against his comrade, or present his head to be stroked. Whatever he did, however, was done of his own accord, and had no reference to the performances of his associate, or to the willpower exerted and wasted on such occasions.