C.
ANIMAL TAMING.
SECOND AND CONCLUDING ARTICLE.
In my last paper on the taming of animals, I treated the subject generally rather than in detail. It is probable that the curious reader may not be displeased to learn a little more of the mode of keeping and domesticating wild and savage animals, as well as the methods to be adopted in order to bring together fierce animals of different species, and induce them to occupy the same cage in peace and harmony, and without danger of contention. It is, as will be at once recognised, this latter circumstance which renders the exhibitions of Van Amburgh and his rivals as wonderful as they are; it being a far easier matter to reconcile a lion or a tiger to yourself, and even familiarize it to the furthest possible degree, than it is to induce the tiger and the lion to consort together, and refrain from engaging in deadly conflict.
Let us suppose, for the sake of illustration of the mode which should be adopted to tame two or more animals, that you are made a present of a lion and a tiger. If the animals be very young, you will have very little trouble with them for a long time—none, indeed, beyond the necessity of attending to their health, for the larger felines are difficult to be reared; but as they grow older, they will be very apt to quarrel between themselves; wounds will be given and received, and the death or maiming of either, or perhaps of both, will pretty speedily result. To guard against any unpleasantness of this nature, it should be your business the instant you receive the animals to commence operations. Let them be kept at first far apart; for it is not advisable, as their dispositions may be very different, that one should be witness of the severity you may be compelled to exercise towards the other. This done, take, according to the animals’ ages, a stout cane, a supplejack, or an iron rod. If the creatures be very young, that is, under three months, or perhaps four, the cane will be sufficient. If greater, or from that to half grown, you will require the supplejack, and let it be thicker at one end than at the other. For a half-grown animal the iron rod will be absolutely necessary, and it must be of sufficient weight that a blow of it on the skull may be sufficient to produce a temporary insensibility—the only chance you will have of escape, should the fierce brutes at any time take it into their heads to rebel.
Having thus provided yourself with arms offensive, you must be equally cautious as to your costume. That must be of strong material, hard, and fitting close. You must have no loose flapping skirts, no open jackets. All must be tight, and buttoned closely to the body. An under-waistcoat (sleeved) of strong buff, with a stout pea-jacket over it, leather or corduroy breeches, and top boots, is about the best dress for the experimentalist in animal taming that I can suggest at this moment. The reason—for I like to give a reason for everything I recommend—of this necessity for a firm, tight-fitting dress, is, that if a wild animal, although to all appearance perfectly domesticated, chances even in play to get his claws fastened in your clothes, the sensation of seizing upon prey involuntarily presents itself to his imagination. The accidental entanglement is succeeded by a plunge of the claws, the jaws are brought into requisition, and your life is by no means in a safe position. Hence the necessity for tight dress.
Thus accoutred, with your rod in your hand, and, if the animal be more than half grown, a brace of pistols in your breast—the one loaded with ball, the other with powder, upon which a quantity of tow has been crammed down—approach the cage of the young animal which you design to tame. I commence with this stage of the process, because I presume that you have already rendered your protegé sufficiently familiar by feeding and caressing it through the bars, and by spending some time each day in its company. I presume therefore that it has already begun to recognise your appearance, and to come over to your hand when called, as well as to permit you to stroke and pat it, without attempting to bite you. Approach the cage, hold in your left hand a heavy cloak or blanket wrapped round your hand and arm; let there be two assistants near at hand, and a small stove in which half a dozen iron rods are heating; let the door of the cage be a real door, opening upon hinges, and shutting with a good and deeply-notched latch—not a sliding door, as such a mode of entering the cage might be as much as your life was worth. Speak kindly to the animal, and caress it through the bars of its cage ere you enter, or the suddenness of your entrance may irritate or alarm it, and thus induce it to attack you. Your costume should likewise by no means have been put on for the first time. You should have dressed in a similar manner during all your former visits, so that your intended pet might be acquainted with your appearance. Let a platform be erected outside the cage, to its level, and ascend this, where stand a few minutes, boldly caressing and speaking to the animal. Then throw open the door, enter with a firm and resolute step, push the door behind you, but see that you do not for an instant remove your eyes from those of the animal you are visiting. Do not advance from the door; stand near the bars of the cage, that you may have a better chance of escape, and may be more readily assisted by your attendants in the event of an attack. Speak kindly towards the animal, and if it, as it most likely will, comes over to you, fear nothing, but stretch forth your hand and caress it. The creature will then probably purr, and rub against you. Permit it to do so, and encourage it in its familiarity; but if it offer to play with you, repress such disposition with firmness; and if you perceive that the animal is bent on frolic, leave the cage at once, for it is unsafe longer to remain, the play of these savage creatures always leading to mischief, just as the cat sports with the captured mouse ere she gives it the finishing blow, and buries it in her maw. Repress, therefore, every attempt to play. Use your rod freely and severely. Do so not merely for a grievous fault, but for the most distant appearance of insubordination. Let your corrections be terrible when you do inflict them, and you will have to repeat them so much the less frequently. Some, and Van Amburgh I believe among the rest, are in favour of beating the animals every morning, whether they deserve such chastisement or not, just by way of keeping up a salutary awe of their masters. I object to this, as I conceive it to be both cruel and unnecessary. If animals are of an unruly disposition, and require frequent correction, I should rather recommend that they should be visited every morning, and an opportunity of misbehaving themselves thus afforded, when indeed a good thrashing might be administered with much greater justice. Never display either timidity or ill-humour. The former will make the animals despise your menaces, and perhaps give you a bite or a claw—the latter will cause them to hate you, to regard you as a tyrant, and probably seize on the first favourable opportunity for your destruction. Be just, therefore, in your punishments, and do not be too familiar. Never for an instant permit any animal to make too free with you. Recollect the old copybook adage, “Familiarity breeds contempt;” and recollect that if a young lion or a tiger so far forgets himself as to despise your authority, you will stand a fair chance of being torn to pieces some fine morning, and devoured for their breakfast.
I conceive that the preceding rapidly sketched hints will serve as a sufficient ground-work for the animal-tamer to act upon. He must not be discouraged if he do not succeed at first, and he must be satisfied to take time, and persevere. Without this he need not hope for success.
The animal-tamer must be fearless—such a thing as terror must be a feeling wholly foreign to his soul. He must be as brave as a lion: for how can he otherwise hope to subdue the bravest of the animal creation? I have said “bravest,” and so let the word stand; but I was perhaps led to employ the expression rather from popular prejudice, than from a conviction of its truth. The feline tribes are very powerful and very fierce animals, but they are by no means brave. A bulldog has more courage in his pigmy body, than exists in the prodigious carcasses or a dozen lions or tigers. Let the animal-tamer recollect this, and the knowledge of this fact will probably encourage him. To give a case in point:—I was once endeavouring to make friends with the tigress in the Zoological Gardens, Phœnix Park—a beautiful animal, subsequently purchased from the Zoological Society by the proprietors of the Portobello Gardens, and since unfortunately dead. I had got so far as to be able to stroke the creature on the head and back, and even to open her mouth with my hand, and leave it within her terrible jaws. This I did on my third visit to her, in presence of the animal’s keeper. One day I was alone with the tigress, and my hand was upon her neck: she with equal good nature had placed her enormous paw upon my shoulder, and was purring in a most affectionate manner, when a sudden noise from one of the other animals caused me to start; instantly the paw was brought down upon my arm with some violence, and before I could extricate my hand, Kate, as the tigress was called, had closed her teeth upon the limb, which she held firmly, though as yet uninjured. I strove to withdraw my hand, but to no purpose. I felt in a most uncomfortable position, reader, for I feared that I should lose a very useful member of my frame: it was my right hand. Had I lost it, I should have been unable to have written this or any of the other papers I have given you. The teeth of the tigress became more and more firmly closed, and my efforts to disengage my hand were unavailing; I called for assistance, but no one was within hearing; when, calling courage and resolution to my aid, I bethought me of my own principles, and, raising my other hand, dealt Kate as severe a blow as I was able with my clenched fist upon her nose. The experiment was successful. The animal, at once releasing my hand, sprang with an angry howl to the opposite side of her cage, from which in a few moments she returned cowering and submissive, apparently eager to regain that portion of my good opinion that she seemed conscious of having forfeited.
If, then, you are attacked, act with promptness and decision. Use your rod freely; but if you find yourself in danger, employ your pistol, not, however, that loaded with ball (reserve it as a last resource, when there is nought else between you and death), but that loaded only with powder and tow; fire it into the animal’s face, and I think there is no doubt but it will afford you ample time for escape; nay, it may in all likelihood render you conqueror; and if you perceive that the shock has terrified your assailant, hand the pistol to be re-loaded by an assistant, while you advance and finish with your rod what the pistol began. If you be seized and overpowered, let your attendants use the heated irons; they should be of a sufficient length to reach to any part of the cage, and should be applied to the nose and mouth. They will generally be found successful in turning the current of affairs.