A little girl of fourteen, who was to have been my maid as soon as she was old enough, was not as fortunate as her neighbour; she being attacked by a panther who sprang upon her through an open window, in a room where she was sleeping by herself. Her cries brought her family round her, and the beast made his escape as he had entered, but having once tasted blood there, he was sure to return, and a trap was made which caught him the ensuing night; the fine was paid, and the skin was given to me. The poor child had a piece of her scalp taken off, a triangular morsel had been bitten from her shoulder; and her throat had a gash on each side of her windpipe. All these wounds appeared as if they had been cut with a knife; none of them were mortal, but she had not strength to encounter the weakness they engendered. Her father brought her in a canoe to head-quarters for the attendance of an English surgeon, but she expired as she was carried ashore.
A party of us had gone to St. Mary's near the mouth of the river Gambia; and in the evening a bright moonlight induced us to take a walk. It was not very prudent; but we started, the commandant, a quaker lady and myself, to the outskirts of the forest. My female companion after we had advanced some distance, began to think of danger, and I, in mischief, rustled among the branches of the thicket in order to alarm her still more. We proceeded as far as a spring under a huge Baobab, where we stood for some time, till the monkeys began to pelt us from the tree over our heads. A slight movement in the bushes also seemed to say it was time to depart; and then, expatiating on our own fool-hardiness, we went on, and reached home in safety. The next morning we were informed, that an enormous leopard had been caught in a trap close to the spring, half an hour after we had been there, and his footsteps had been traced upon mine in the sand. We never could understand, humanly speaking, what saved us, unless it were the long white plumes which waved from the hat of the commandant. These traps are generally pitfalls, baited, too often, with a live kid, whose cries entice the beast of prey.
The Jaguar is the leopard of America, and is also very destructive at times; hunger, however, is the prompter; and Baron Humboldt relates a story of a native woman, whose children used to play daily with one which came from the forest close by. She discovered it in consequence of the cry of one of the children, who received a scratch in play from their companion, who was a little too rough. Had he required a supper, the wound would probably have been more than a scratch. D'Azara, however, says, he is a very ferocious animal; causing great destruction among horses and asses. He is extremely fond of eggs, and goes to the shores frequented by turtles, and digs them out of the sand.
Two of the early settlers in the western states of America, a man and his wife closed their wooden hut, and went to pay a visit at a distance, leaving a freshly killed piece of venison hanging inside.
The gable end of this house was not boarded up as high as the roof, but a large aperture was left for light and air. By taking an enormous leap, a hungry jaguar, attracted by the smell of the venison, had entered the hut, and devoured part of it; he was disturbed by the return of the owners, and took his departure. The venison was removed: the husband went away the night after to a distance, and left his wife alone in the hut. She had not been long in bed before she heard the jaguar leap in at the open gable; there was no door between her room and that in which he had entered, and she knew not how to protect herself. She, however, screamed as loudly as she could, and made all the violent noises she could think of, which served to frighten him away at that time; but she knew he would come again, and she must be prepared for him. She tried to make a large fire; but the wood was expended. She thought of rolling herself up in the bed clothes; but these would be torn off. The idea of getting under the low bedstead suggested itself, but she felt sure a paw would be stretched forth which would drag her out: her husband had taken all their fire-arms. At last, as she heard the jaguar this time scrambling up the end of the house, she, in despair, got into a large store chest, the lid of which closed with a spring. Scarcely was she within it, and had dragged the lid down, inserting her fingers between it and the side of the chest, when the jaguar discovered where she was; he smelt round the chest, tried to get his head in through the crack, but fortunately he could not raise the lid; he found her fingers and began to lick them; she felt them bleed, but did not dare to move them, for fear she should be suffocated. At length the jaguar leaped on to the lid, and his weight, pressing down the lid, fractured these fingers. Still she could not move, he smelt round again, he pulled, he leaped on and off, till, at last, getting tired of his vain efforts, he went away. The poor woman lay there till daybreak, and then only, feeling safe from her enemy, she went as fast as her strength would let her to the nearest neighbour's, a distance of two miles, where she procured help for her wounded fingers, which were long getting well. On his return, her husband found a male and female jaguar in the forest close by, with their cubs; and all were destroyed.
As proof that these animals are as soon startled as the tiger, we are told of an Indian, who saw a fierce-looking jaguar standing directly in his path, at a distance of ten paces. At first he was extremely puzzled to know what to do; but a sudden impulse prompted him to take off his broad brimmed hat, make a low bow, and say, "A very good morning to you, Sir;" and to his surprise, the jaguar turned round, and walked leisurely away.
A very beautiful Ounce lived in the menagerie of the Jardin des Plantes, in Paris, which became extremely tame; and Mdlle. Cuvier and I used very often to go and take him a walk, leading him from his den to a small space surrounded by high stakes: he required no other confinement to ensure his obedience, than twisting our hands in the loose skin of his neck, and he never failed at all times to recognise us with pleasure if we went into his vicinity.
The Cheetah is gentle and affectionate, and successfully trained for hunting.