The Minds and Manners of Wild Animals Part 29

When a wolf approaches near and endeavors to make a breach in the circle, the musk-ox nearest him tries to get him, and will even rush out of the line for a short and brief pursuit. But the bull does not pursue more than twenty yards or so, for fear of being surrounded alone and cut off. At the end of his usually futile run, back he goes and carefully backs into his place in the first line of defense. A charging bull does not rush out far enough that the wolves can cut him off and kill him. He is much too wise for that.

Mr. Stefansson says that the impregnability of the musk-ox defense is so well recognized by the wolves of the North that often a pack will march past a herd in close proximity without offering to attack it, and without even troubling the herd to form the hollow circle.

A Savage Wild Boar. I once had a "fight" with a captive j.a.panese wild boar, under conditions both absurd and tragic, and from it I learned the courage and fury of such animals. The animal was large, powerful, fearfully savage toward every living thing, and insanely courageous. It was confined in a yard enclosed by a strong wire fence, and while we were all very sure that the fence would hold it, I became uneasy. In mid-afternoon I went alone to the spot, pa.s.sing hundreds of school children on the way, to study the situation. When I reached the front of the corral and stood still to look at the fence, the boar immediately rushed for me. He came straight on, angry and terrible, and charged the wire like a living battering-ram. He repeated these charges until I became fearful of an outbreak, and decided to try to make him afraid to repeat them. Procuring from the bear dens, a pike pole with a stout spike in the end, I received the next charge with a return thrust meant to puncture both the boar's hide and his understanding. He backed off and charged more furiously than ever, with white foam flying from his jaws.

He cared nothing for his punishment. He charged until his snout bled freely, and the fence bulged at the strain.

Then I became regularly scared! I feared that the savage beast would break through the fence in spite of its strength, and run amuck among those helpless children. I "beat it" back to my office, hurried back with one of my loaded rifles, and without losing a second put a bullet through that raging brain and ended that danger forever.

The Overrated Peccary. This reminds me that the collared peccary has been credited with a degree of courage that has been much exaggerated. While a hunted and cornered peccary will fight dogs or men, and put up a savage and dangerous defense, men whom I know in the peccary belt of Mexico have a.s.sured me that a drove of peccaries will _not_ attack a hunter who has killed one of their mates, nor keep him up a tree for hours while they swarm underneath him waiting for his blood. I have been a.s.sured by competent witnesses that in peccary hunting there is no danger whatever of ma.s.s attack through a desire for revenge, and that peccaries fired at will run like deer.

A Black Bear Killed a Man for Food. There is on record at least one well-authenticated case of a black bear deliberately going out of his way to cross a river, attack a man and kill him.

On May 17, 1907, at a lumber camp of the Red Deer Lumber Company, thirty miles south of Etiomami on the Canadian Northern Railway, Northwest Territory, a cook named T. Wilson was chased by a large black bear, without provocation, struck once on the head, and instantly killed. The bear then picked him up, carried him a short distance, and proceeded to _eat_ him. Ten shots from a .32 calibre revolver had no effect. Later a rifle ball drove the bear away, but only after it had eaten the left thigh and part of the body. (Forest and Stream, Feb. 8, 1908.)

The Status of the Gray Wolf. In America wolves rarely succeed in killing men, although they often follow men's trails in the hope of spoil of some kind. But there are exceptions.

In 1912, around Lake Nipigon, Province of Ontario, Canada, there existed a reign of terror from wolves. The first man killed was a half-breed mail-carrier. Then, in December, another mail-carrier, who was working the lumber camps north of Lake Nipigon, was killed by wolves and completely devoured. The snow showed a terrible struggle, in which four large wolves had been killed by the carrier.

In Russia and in France in the days preceding the use of modern breech-loading firearms, the gray wolves of Europe were very bold, and a great many people were killed by them.

Killings by Wild Beasts in India. The killing by wild beasts of unarmed and defenseless native men, women and children in India is a very different matter from man-killing in resourceful and dangerous North America. The annual slaughter by wild beasts in Hindustan and British Burma is a fairly good index of the courage and aggressiveness of the parties of the first part. In India during the year 1878, in which we were specially interested, the totals were as follows:

Persons killed by elephants, 33; tigers, 816; leopards, 300; bears, 94; wolves, 845; hyenas, 33; snakes, 16,812.

Of course such slaughter as this by the ridiculous hyenas and the absurd sloth bears of India is possible only in a country wherein the swarming millions of people are universally defenseless, and children are superabundant.

As a corollary to the above figures, a comparison of them with the roster of wild animals killed and paid for is of some interest.

The dangerous beasts destroyed were as follows:

Elephants, 1; tigers, 1,493; leopards, 3,387; bears, 1,283; wolves, 5,067; hyenas, 1,202; serpents, 117,782.

The Fighting Spirit in Baboons. In the first a.n.a.lysis, we find that courage is an individual trait, and that so far as we know, it never characterizes all the individuals of any one species. The strongest and the best armed of men and beasts usually are accounted the bravest ones of earth. The defenseless ones do well to be timid, to avoid hostilities and to flee from conflict to avoid being destroyed. It is just as much the duty of a professional mother to flee and to hide, in order to save her own life, as it is for "the old he-one" to threaten and to fight.

At the same time, there are many species which are concededly courageous, as species. In making up this list I would place first of all the baboons of eastern Africa, whom I regard collectively as the most bold and reckless fighters per pound avoirdupois to be found in the whole Order Primates. They have weapons, agility, strength and cyclonic courage. On no other basis could they have so long survived _on land_ in a country full of lions, leopards, cheetahs, hyenas and wild dogs.

In order to appreciate the fighting spirit of a male baboon, the observer need only come just once in actual touch with one. A dozen times I have been seized by a powerful baboon hand shot out with lightning quickness between or under his cage bars. The combined strength and ferocity of the grab, and the grip on the human hand or arm, is unbelievable until felt, and this with an accompaniment of glaring eyes, snarling lips and nerve-ripping voice is quite sufficient to intimidate any ordinary man.

But even in the courage and belligerency of baboons, there are some marked differences between species. I rank them as follows:

The most fierce and dangerous species is the East African baboon.

The next for courage is the Rhodesian species.

The spectacular hamadryas baboon is a very good citizen. The long-armed yellow species makes very little trouble, and

The small golden baboon is the best-behaved of them all.

Courage in the Great Apes. After forty years of ape study, with many kinds of evidence, I am convinced that the courage and the alleged ferocity of the gorilla has been much over-rated. I believe this is due to the influence upon the human mind of the great size and terrifying aspect of the animal.

Of all the men whom I have known or read, the late R. L. Garner knew by far the most of gorilla habits and character by personal observation in the gorilla jungles of equatorial Africa. And never, in several years of intimate contact with Mr, Garner did he so much as once put forth a statement or an estimate that seemed to me exaggerated or overcolored.

In our many discussions of gorilla character Mr. Garner always represented that animal as very shy, wary of observation by man, profoundly cunning in raiding _in darkness_ the banana plantations of man's villages, and most carefully avoiding exposures by daylight. He described the gorilla as practically never attacking men unless first attacked by them, and fleeing unless forcibly brought to bay. He told me of are doubtable African tribesman who once captured a baby gorilla on the ground by suddenly attacking the mother with his club and beating her so successfully that she fled from him and abandoned her young.

"But," said Mr. Garner, "there is only one tribe in Africa that could turn out a man who would attempt a feat like that."

That the gorilla can and will fight furiously and effectively when brought to bay is well known, and never denied.

Of the apes I have known in captivity, the chimpanzees are by far the most aggressive, courageous and dangerous. A vigorous male specimen over eight years of age is more dangerous than a lion, or tiger, or grizzly bear, and _far more anxious_ to fight something. I think that even if our Boma were muzzled, no five men of my acquaintance could catch him and tie his hands and feet.

The orang-utan is only half the fighter that the chimpanzee is.

Even the adult males are not persistently aggressive, or inflamed by savage desires to hurt somebody.

Courage in Elephants as an a.s.set. In all portions of India wherein tiger hunting with elephants is practiced, elephants with good courage are at a premium. No elephant is fit to carry a howdah in a line of beaters, with a valuable sahib on board, unless its courage can stand the acid test of a wounded tiger's charge. When an elephant can endure without panic an infuriated tiger climbing up its frontispiece to get at the unhappy mahout and the hunter, that elephant belongs in the courageous cla.s.s. The cowardly elephant screams in terror, bolts for the rear, and if there is a tree in the landscape promptly wrecks the howdah and the sportsman against its lower branches.

A "rogue" elephant always reminds me of my Barbados boatman's description of a pugnacious friend: "De trouble is, he am too brave!" A rogue elephant will attack anything from a wheelbarrow to a hut, and destroy it. The peak of rogue ambition was reached on a railway in Burma, near Ban Klap, in March 1908, when a rogue elephant "on hearing the locomotive whistle, trumpeted loudly and then, lowering his head, charged the oncoming train. The impact was tremendous. Such was the impetus of the great pachyderm that the engine was partially derailed, the front of the smoke-box shattered as far as the tubes, the cow-catcher was crushed into a shapeless piece of iron, and other damages of minor importance were sustained. The train was going thirty-four miles per hour, and the engine alone weighed between forty and fifty tons.

"Of course the elephant was killed by the shock, its head being completely smashed.... It is believed that this particular rogue had been responsible for considerable damage to villages in the vicinity of Lopbusi. A number of houses have been pulled down recently and havoc wrought in other ways."

On another occasion a vicious rogue elephant elected to try conclusions with a railway train. In 1906, on the Korat branch of the Siamese State Railway, a bull elephant attacked a freight train running at full speed. He charged the rus.h.i.+ng locomotive, with the result that the locomotive and several cars were derailed and sent down the side of the grade, and two persons were killed.

The elephant was killed outright and buried under the wreck of the train. This occurred in open country, where there was no excuse for an elephant on the track, and therefore the charge of the rogue was wholly gratuitous.

Captive elephants whose managers are too humane to punish them for manifestations of meanness become spoiled by their immunity, just as mean children are spoiled when fond and foolish parents feel that their little jackets are too sacred ever to be tanned. Such complete immunity is as bad for bad elephants as for bad children, but in practice the severe punishment of an elephant with real benefit to the animal is next door to an impossibility, and so we never attempt it. We do, however, inflict mild punishments, of the fourth order of efficiency.

Animals and Men. Among the animals that are most courageous against man are the species and individuals that are most familiar with him, and feel for him both contempt and hatred. The cat scratches, the bad dog bites, the vicious horse kicks or bites, and the mean pet bear, tiger, ape, leopard, bison or deer will attempt injury or murder whenever they think the chance has arrived. I know a lady whose pet monkey is a savage and mean little beast, and because she never thrashes it as it deserves, both of her arms from wrist to elbow have been scarified by its teeth.

Mr. E. R. Sanborn, official photographer of the Zoological Park, once made an ingenious and also terrifying experiment. He made an excellent dummy keeper, stood it up, and tied it fast against the fence inside the yard of our very large and savage male Grevy Zebra. Then he posed his moving picture camera in a safe place, and the keeper turned the zebra into the yard. The moment the bad zebra caught sight of the presumptive keeper,--at last within his power,--he rushed at the dummy with glaring eyes and open mouth, and seized his victim by the head. With furious efforts he tore the dummy loose from its moorings, whirled it into the middle of the yard, where in a towering rage he knelt upon it, bit and tore its heart out. Of course the unfortunate dummy perished. The zebra reveled in his triumph, and altogether it was a fearsome sight.

CAUTION. A thoroughly cowardly horse _never_ should be ridden, nor driven to anything so light that a runaway is possible. Such animals are too expensive both to human life and to property. A dangerous horse can be just as great a risk as a bad lion or bear.

IV.--THE BASER Pa.s.sIONS

XXII

FEAR AS A RULING Pa.s.sION

If we were asked, "Which one may be called the ruling pa.s.sion of the wild animal?" we would without hesitation answer,--it is fear.

From the cradle to the grave, every strictly wild animal lives, day and night, in a state of fear of bodily harm, and dread of hunger and famine.

"Now the 'free, wild life' is a round of strife, And of ceaseless hunger and fear; And the life in the wild of the animal child Is not all skittles and beer."

The first thing that the wild baby learns, both by precept and example, is safety first! When the squalling and toddling bear cub first goes abroad, the mother bear is worried and nervous for fear that in a sudden and dangerous emergency the half-helpless little one will not be able to make a successful get-away when the alarm- signal snort is given. During the first, and most dangerous, days in the life of the elk, deer and antelope fawn, the first care of the mother is to hide her offspring in a spot cunningly chosen beside a rock, beside a log, or in thick bushes. In the absence of all those she looks for a depression in the earth wherein the fawn can lie without making a hump in the landscape. The first impulse of the fawn,--even before nursing if the birth occurs in daylight,--is to fold its long legs, short body and reptilian neck into a very small package, hug the earth tightly, close its eyes and lie absolutely motionless until its mother gives the signal to arise and sup. Such infants may lie for long and weary hours without so much as moving an ear; and the anxious mother strolls away to some distance to avoid disclosing her helpless offspring.

Now, suppose you discover and touch an elk or a deer fawn while thus hiding. What will it do? Nine times out of ten it will bound up as if propelled by steel springs, and go off like an arrow from a bow, das.h.i.+ng in any direction that is open and leads straight away. The horrified mother will rush into view in dangerously near proximity, and I have seen a wild white-tailed deer doe tear madly up and down in full view and near by, to attract the danger to herself.

Thousands of men and boys have seen a mother quail flop and flutter and play wounded, to lead the dangerous boy away from her brood of little quail mites, and work the ruse so daringly and successfully as to save both her babies and herself. I well remember my surprise and admiration when a mother quail first played that trick upon me. I expected to pick her up,--and forgot all about the chicks,--until they were every one safely in hiding, and then Mrs. Quail gave me the laugh and flew away.