THE STRANGE COMBATIVE TEMPERAMENT OF THE GUANACO. In appearance the guanaco is the personification of gentleness. Its placid countenance indicates no guile, nor means of offense. Its lustrous gazelle-like eyes, and its soft, woolly fleece suggest softness of disposition. But in reality no animal is more deceptive. In a wild state amongst its own kind, or in captivity,—no matter how considerately treated,—it is a quarrelsome and at times intractable animal. "A pair of wild guanacos can often be seen or heard engaged in desperate combat, biting and tearing, and rolling over one another on the ground, uttering their gurgling, bubbling cries of rage. Of a pair so engaged, I shot one whose tail had then been bitten off in the encounter. In confinement, the guanaco charges one with his chest, or rears up on his hind legs to strike one with his fore-feet, besides biting and spitting up the contents of the stomach."—Richard Crawshay in "The Birds of Terra del Fuego."
MENTAL TRAITS AND TEMPER OF THE ATLANTIC WALRUS
Mr. Langdon Gibson, of Schenectady, kindly wrote out for me the following highly interesting observations on a remarkable arctic animal with which we are but slightly acquainted:
"In the summer of 1891, as a member of the first Peary Expedition I had an opportunity of observing some of the traits of the Atlantic walrus. I found him to be a real animal, of huge size, with an extremely disagreeable temper and most belligerently inclined. We hunted them in open whale-boats under the shadows of Greenland's mountain-bound coast, in the Whale Sound region, Lat. 77 degrees North.
"We hunted among animals never before molested, except by the Eskimo who (so far as I was able to ascertain) hunt them only during the winter season on the sea ice. We found animals whose courage and belief in themselves and their prowess had hitherto been unshaken by contact with the white man and his ingenious devices of slaughter.
"The walrus has a steady nerve and a thoroughly convincing roar. They have fought their kind and the elements for centuries and centuries, and know no fear. This, then, was the animal we sought in order to secure food for our dog teams. I can conceive of no form of big game hunting so conducive to great mental excitement and physical activity as walrus hunting from an open whale-boat. At the completion of such a hunt I have seen Eskimo so excited and worked up that they were taken violently sick with vomiting and headache.
"The walrus is a gregarious animal, confederating in herds numbering from ten to fifty, and in some instances no doubt larger numbers may be found together. On calm days they rest in unmolested peace on pans of broken ice which drift up and down the waters of Whale Sound. It is unfortunate that no soundings were taken in the region where the walrus were found, as a knowledge of the depth of water would have furnished some information as to the distances to which the animal will dive in search of food.
"The stomachs of all half- and full-grown walrus taken in Whale Sound were without exception well filled with freshly opened clams, with very few fragments of shells in evidence; the removal of the clam from the shell being as neatly accomplished as though done by an expert oysterman.
"In most cases these segregated herds of walrus were in charge of a large bull who generally occupied a central position in the mass of animals. Upon approaching such a herd for the first time, and when within about 200 feet, a large bull would lift his head, sniff audibly in our direction and give a loud grunt which apparently struck a responsive chord in the other sleeping animals. They would grunt in unison, in more subdued tones, after which the old walrus would drop his head to resume his interrupted nap. Their contempt for us was somewhat disconcerting.
"At the first crack of a rifle, however, the animals immediately aroused, and then during the fusillade which followed there occurred what might be called an orderly scramble for the water. In the first place the young ones were hustled to the edge of the ice-pan, and there, apparently under the protection of the mother's flipper, pushed into the water, immediately followed by the mother. The young bulls followed, and I recall no exceptions where the last animal into the water was not the big bull, who before diving would give our boat a wicked look and a roar of rage.