There are no animals about whom there are so many superstitions. Even Pliny, writing in the first century, tells us that it “imitates the human voice among the stalls of the shepherds; and while there learns the name of some one of them, and then calls him away and devours him.” It is also said that coming in contact with its shadow, dogs will lose their voice, and that, by certain magical influence “it can render any animal immovable round which it has walked three times.” The Arabs “believe that people who partake of the brain of the hyena become insane, and the head of a hyena is always buried lest it should be used by wicked sorcerers for their diabolical charms.”
They also believe that the hyena “are sorcerers in disguise, who assume human shape by day and prowl around as hyenas by night, working destruction upon good people.”
The stories of the body snatching propensities of the Striped Hyena are much exaggerated. If this occurs at all it is when the body is very lightly covered with sand and when other food is lacking.
The dislike for the hyena seems to exist wherever the animal is found. In many parts of India, when killed, the body is treated with every mark of indignity and then burned.
And yet the striped species is capable of great attachment. Colonel Sykes states that “in certain districts in central India it is as susceptible of domestication as ordinary dogs.” And Dr. Brehm, who found every created animal interesting, once had two young hyenas for pets; but I will give the narration in his own words. “A few days after our first arrival in Khartoum we purchased two young hyenas for a price equal to twenty-five cents in American money. The animals were about the size of a half-grown terrier, clothed in a very soft, fine woolly fur of dark gray hue and they were very spiteful, notwithstanding they had enjoyed human society for some time. We put them in a stable and I visited them daily. At first they were addicted to vicious biting, but repeated sound blows overawed their resistance, and three months after the day of purchase I could play with them as I would with a dog, without having to fear any mischief on their part. Their affection for me increased every day and they were overjoyed when I visited them. When they were more than half grown they signified their pleasure in a very strange manner. As soon as I entered the room they rushed at me with a joyous howl, put their fore paws on my shoulder and sniffed my face.
“Later on I led them by a single string through the streets of Cairo, to the horror of all good citizens.
“They were so affectionate that they often paid me a call without being invited and it made a surprising as well as uncanny impression on strangers to see us at the tea table. Each of us had a hyena at his side and the animal sat on his haunches as quietly and sensibly as a well behaved dog who pleads for a few scraps at the table. The hyena did that also, and their gentle request consisted of a low but very hoarse cry. They expressed their gratitude either by the same sounds and actions they used in greeting me as above described, or by sniffing my hands.
“They were passionately fond of sugar, but also had a great liking for bread, especially if it was soaked in tea. Their usual food was Pariah dogs, which we shot for the purpose. My pets were on good terms with each other. If one were absent for any considerable length of time there was great joy when the two met again; in short, they proved to me quite conclusively that even hyenas are capable of warm attachment.”
John Ainslie.