Small animals, such as squirrels, etc., may be tamed without difficulty, even if captured when arrived at a considerable age. Gentle treatment, the avoidance of any teasing or aggravating, and a gradual increase of the tamer’s familiarity with the captive, will be all that is requisite in most cases. When tamed, the animals may be taught tricks of various kinds in the same manner that we have elsewhere described for teaching the same performances to other animals.

A squirrel, if captured when moderately young, can be tamed in a couple of days by merely carrying him in your pocket. The warmth of the pocket will be pleasant to him, and by giving him a nut occasionally you will convince him that you mean well toward him, and so gain his confidence. At first, care must be taken to prevent his escape, but by-and-by he may be allowed to come out and go in at his pleasure, and he will run about your lap with the greatest familiarity. With flying squirrels this method of training is particularly successful.

Squirrels and many of the small wild animals can be made tame by any boy who is willing to devote sufficient time and patience to the object. In some cases it is not necessary to capture the animal. We have known instances of animals, particularly squirrels, being made so tame that they would of their own accord come to the tamer on hearing his voice. There was no great mystery in their docility; food had been at first placed in places frequented by them, the person so placing it retiring to a distance. By-and-by the animal would come and eat the food, perhaps glancing suspiciously at the distant figure, but if the person made no motion to startle him, he would continue his meal.

This placing of food would require long continuance, the person each time remaining a little nearer than before, until, in time, the animal would have no fear even in his immediate vicinity. Then bits of food may be gently dropped down for him, and if the tamer stands quietly they will probably be picked up. Then the tamer may step backward and again drop a morsel; the animal will advance to get it, and at last he may even become so familiar as to eat from the hand. A squirrel who has been so far tamed may then easily be taught to climb over the tamer’s person by enticing him forward with some dainty. We have seen a squirrel induced to go through quite a variety of little performances, standing erect, leaping, and climbing wherever desired, lured on by a kernel of corn at the end of a piece of string.

Of the larger animals, bears have always been favorite subjects with trainers. Considerable difficulty and danger is encountered in securing the cubs, owing to the ferocity and courage with which the mother bear defends her young. The old bear is in most cases killed before the capture of the young ones can be accomplished. During the infancy of the cubs the old he-bear ungallantly deserts the partner of his bosom, and takes up his quarters at a distance, to avoid annoyance by the cries of his progeny; so the hunter often escapes trouble with the head of the family. Bears are born blind, like puppies, and remain so for about eight or nine days. With care they can be raised even if taken when only four or five days old. The black bear attains his full size when eight or nine years old.

Bears like many other animals have been called upon to lend their aid in theatrical displays. A frightful scene occurred some twenty years ago at the theater of Czerny, in Bohemia, during the performance of a melo-drama, called the “Bear of the Mountains,” the principal performer in which was a bruin of such wonderful docility and dramatic talent, that for a long succession of nights he attracted overflowing audiences. On this occasion, however, something had put this star out of humor, and he was observed to be wanting in those brilliant displays of the histrionic art which had previously overwhelmed him with applause. In the third act, instead of coming down the mountains by a winding path, with the slow and solemn step, as set down in the prompter’s book, he alighted on the stage at one bound.

On his return behind the scenes he received reproofs, which, instead of improving, made his temper still more sullen; and it was with difficulty he could be prevailed on to go through his part. In the last scene he was induced to commence a waltz with a young and beautiful peasant girl, and seemed to take so much enjoyment in the dance, that the whole audience were raised from their seats, and, standing on the benches, drowned the sounds of a powerful orchestra with their acclamations of praise and delight.

In a moment, however, the joyous spectacle was changed into one of horror; a piercing shriek was heard above all the combination of noises; the stage was one moment in the utmost confusion, and the next was clear of every performer except the bear, who appeared with his muzzle, unfastened, and hanging around his neck; and after making a wide display of his tremendous gullet, leaped into the orchestra, which, as may be easily imagined, was as vacant as the stage. The flight of the audience was equally as quick, but the consequences more serious. Numbers were severely crushed and bruised in the struggle at the doors, and several were dreadfully injured by being thrown down and trampled upon. After a pause, a platoon of soldiers went into the pit with fixed bayonets and loaded barrels, and ordered to bring out the cause of all the evil, dead or alive; but they found him, like other great actors who have performed their parts and become exhausted by their exertions, taking his repose on one of the benches, and incapable or unwilling to make any resistance.

The performances of bears consist almost entirely of natural actions, such as walking erect, climbing, leaping, and the like. These are arranged to form a variety of feats; that of a bear riding around the ring, in a gig drawn by a pony, is very simple, the bear being only required to set erect, and hold the reins in his paws. Carrying articles, as when acting waiter, is natural. Standing on their heads and turning somersaults are probably feats not commonly indulged in in a state of freedom; they are taught by rapping the hind legs until the animals take the desired position or make the desired turn-over. The most pretentious bear show within our knowledge was that of “Old Grizzly Adams,” a hunter who managed to collect quite a number and variety of bears, which were exhibited some years ago. Laughing, crying, singing, and other bears were advertised as belonging to this collection; but the laughing, crying and singing were the mere natural voices of the bears, and all so nearly alike that only a vivid imagination enabled the hearer to distinguish between the laughing, crying, and singing. Some gaudy costumes tickled with their ridiculousness the fancy of the audience, and the exhibition gave very fair satisfaction.