T——, riding one day, and encountering a little travelling party of meerkats, gave chase on horseback. One of the animals, a very large, fat one, made for a hole, but found it a tight fit. He stuck fast, and T—— pulled him out ignominiously by the tail, and rode off with him. The mare—a wild, half-broken young thing—was so mad with fright at the way in which the little fury, though tethered by a handkerchief, dashed about, scratching and tearing at her sides, that she bolted all the way home. And when T—— set the new inmate down on the floor of the sitting-room, where it stood at bay, snarling savagely at us, it seemed about as unpromising a specimen on which to exercise our powers of taming animals as could well be imagined. But, refusing to be daunted, we began by tying our captive to the leg of the table, where he had to accustom himself to seeing us constantly passing and repassing; and though at first he tried to fly at us every time we came near, he soon saw that we had no evil designs against him, and was reassured by our careful avoidance of abrupt movements and sudden noises—most important of all rules to be observed in taming wild creatures. In a few hours he was sufficiently at home to drink milk—though cautiously and watchfully—from a teaspoon held out to him; and in four days he was following us about the house like a little dog.
This meerkat, the largest and handsomest we have ever seen, cannot have been anything less than the chief of his tribe. His powerful, tusk-like teeth, his unusually broad and capacious forehead, his superior intelligence, even for so clever a creature as a meerkat, all proclaimed him born to command. When one day he repaid the care and affection of many weeks by cruelly and ungratefully leaving us, we felt little doubt that, after giving civilization a fair trial, and comparing it with his old life, he had decided in favour of the latter, and started off home. We have often wondered whether he succeeded in finding his way back to his subterranean kingdom. And if so, did he find his subjects still faithful? or was he forgotten, and did another king reign in his stead?
One evening, when the men returned from the camps, one of the ostrich-herds displayed, nestling together in the palm of his hand, two baby meerkats, no larger than good fat mice, which he had caught in the veldt. Rewarding the captor, in the usual Karroo style of barter, with a pound of coffee, we took possession of his prize; and though at first our chance of rearing the tiny animals seemed doubtful, they flourished, grew up into fine specimens of their kind, and were among the most amusing of all our pets. They looked like a perfectly-matched pair of little images with heads moving by clockwork, as they stood, bolt upright, in their favourite places, one against each door-post, and, critically surveying the view with an air of never having seen it before, revelled in the hot sunshine which came pouring in through the open doorway.
Unlike "birds in their little nests," and more after the unamiable fashion of human twins—who generally have to be sent to separate schools—they got on very badly together; and their frequent fights displayed most comically the strong contrast of the two energetic little characters. One of them was selfish and greedy, and, however liberal the supply of food presented—even though it were three times as much as he could possibly eat—always wanted all for himself. Jumping into the middle of the plate, he would stand—a miniature dog in the manger—noisily defending the contents against his gentler brother, whom he would attack and bite savagely if he ventured near. The other was a far nobler and finer character; and, though he too could "bark and bite" on occasion in an equally unbrotherly manner, it was no such base, material cause of jealousy which impelled him to do battle. Our notice and our affection were what he wanted all for himself; and so bitterly did he resent every kind word, every slightest caress bestowed on his companion, that it was the instant signal for war, and, flying at the other, he would attack him as vengefully as he in his turn was attacked at feeding-time.
Both brothers were on terms of insolent and contemptuous familiarity with Toto; on whom they looked as their slave, whom they made the butt for their jokes, and in the soft warmth of whose coat they slept as on the most luxurious of fur rugs. And when he wanted to sleep and they did not, how they relished the fun of keeping him awake against his will! What riotous games they would have, chasing each other backwards and forwards across his recumbent form, pulling his poor tired eyes open with their mischievous black claws, scratching and tickling his nose to make him sneeze, and trying their hardest to burrow into his ear or his mouth. One snap of his powerful jaws, and their frivolous career would promptly have been cut short; but the good old dog—who, in spite of all their teasing, loved the troublesome imps—submitted patiently, though they did make his eyes water.
One day, alas! tired out with play, they were comfortably nestling close up against their big friend's side, and all three were taking their afternoon nap. Perhaps Toto had a disturbing dream, perhaps the flies bothered him and made him restless,—at any rate during his sleep he rolled over on to one of the meerkats—our favourite, of course—and, all unconscious of what he was doing, crushed and suffocated the poor little fellow. Though no one thought of blaming Toto for what was purely accidental, he instantly and completely realized that he had caused the death; and as we stood lamenting over the flattened little body, the poor old dog's distress was most pathetic. He seemed quite overcome with shame; and as he stole from one of us to the other, timidly licking our hands, his expressive face pleaded eloquently for the forgiveness he had no need to ask. With all our efforts to reassure him it was a long time before his sensitive conscience recovered from the shock. The surviving little brother lived to a good old age, came home with us, and succumbed at last to the severities of an English winter.
The variety of character in our numerous meerkats formed quite an amusing study. They differed as much as human beings, and among them all there was but one which was stupid. He, poor fellow, met with injuries in early life at the hands of one of the cruel boys who looked after the little ostriches; who, in a passion with him for getting in the way, picked him up and flung him across the kitchen. He landed in a saucepan, received spinal damage, and grew up stunted in mind and body. And when, one day, he came suddenly to his end by tumbling into that disappointing fountain-basin of which mention has been made, we felt that on the whole it was rather a happy release.
One of our meerkats was the devoted ally of the turkeys, and would go out into the veldt with them every day; accompanying them on all their wanderings, and apparently looking upon himself as their herd. He would come trotting home with them in the evening, full of his own importance, and evidently taking to himself the credit of having brought them all safely back.
Another was fond of rambling off all by himself, sometimes going a very long way from home. On one occasion some friends from a distant farm, driving to call on us, saw near the road what they took for a wild meerkat, and set their collie at it. But animals have a wonderful instinct for detecting the difference between tame and wild creatures; and good Bob, dearly though he loved a scamper after any of the swift-footed denizens of the veldt, saw at once that this was not lawful game. So, instead of the expected chase, there was a friendly and demonstrative greeting between the two animals. The dog stood wagging his tail at the meerkat, the meerkat sat up "quarking" at the dog, and our friends, guessing that the little creature belonged to us, took him up into their Cape cart, and brought him to his home.
Another meerkat, being so incorrigibly savage that handling him was always attended with serious damage to the fingers, had to wear a muzzle, improvised for him by T—— out of one of the little wire baskets made for the spouts of teapots.