RETOLD -paoM Cornell XHniverstt^ Xibrari? IRew l^ork State CoUcqc of Hfiriculture v?f' ..UlA.ft. Ij'iJ" a""} tjger stories, retold from St. 3 1924 002 905 085 Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tlie Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924002905085 LION AND TIGER STORIES ANIMAL STORIES RETOLD FROM ST. NICHOLAS MAGAZINE IN SIX VOLUMES. EDITED BY M. H. CARTER, DEPARTMENT OF SCIENCE, NEW YORK TRAINING SCHOOL FOR TEACHERS ABOUT ANIMALS Interesting facts about animals in general. BEAR STORIES Infornnation and adventure. CAT STORIES Dealing with the cat as a pet. STORIES OF BRAVE DOGS Showing the dog's love and devotion to man. LION AND TIGER STORIES Stories of adventure PANTHER STORIES stories of adventure. EACH ABOUT 200 PAGES, FULL CLOTH, I2M0 PRICE, 65 CENTS NET THE CENTURY CO. LION AND TIGER STORIES RETOLD FROM ST. NICHOLAS EDITED BY M. H. CARTER DEPARTMENT OF SCIENCE OF THE NEW YORK TRAINING SCHOOL FOR TEACHERS NEW YORK THE CENTURY CO. 1904 Copyright, 1877, 1880, 1882, 1883, 1884, 1885, 1887, 1888, 1892 1895, 1S96, 1897, 1900, 1901, 1902, 1903, 1904, by The Century Co. THE DEVINNE PRESS THE TIGER Tiger, Tiger, burning bright In the forests of the night. What immortal hand or eye Framed thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burned that fire within thine eyes ? On what wings dared he aspire? ^^^hat the hand dared seize the fire? And what shoulder and what art Could twist the sinews of thy heart? When thy heart began to beat, What dread hand formed thy dread feet? What the hammer, what the chain. Knit thy strength and formed thy brain? ^^''hat the anvil? \\'hat dread grasp Dared thy deadly terrors clasp? ^^"hen the stars threw down their spears. And watered heaven with their tears. Did He smile his work to see ? Did He who made the lamb make thee ? William Blake. TIME-TABLE STORIES THAT MAY BE READ ALOUD IN LESS THAN FIVE MINUTES The Little Lion with the Big Voice An Odd Street Show Was He a Coward? FIVE-TEN MINUTES An Adventure with a Lion The Lion-killer A Lion Hunt in a Sewer The Arms of Ahmed Tsang Tsan and the Man-eater A Terrible Gymnast An Adventure with a Man-eater TEN-FIFTEEN MINUTES Marjorie's Peril TWENTY MINUTES The Wild-Beast Tamer CONTENTS PAGE Lions and Tigers i LIONS An Adventure with a Lion .... Emestingerwii 9 The Lion's Tour . . onvcr Herford 19 The Lion-killer (From the French of Duatyeff) . . 25 Mary Wager Fisher MARJORIE'S Peril .... . . Mary Lockwood 35 A Lion Met A Little Boy . , . ... Joei Stacy 52 A Lion Hunt in a Sewer . . . . Frank c. Bostock 56 A Hungry Customer Benjamin Webster 66 The Little Lion with the Big Voice Anna Isabel Ly,nan 69 The Musical Lion onver Herford 76 TIGERS The Arms of Ahmed Juiia k. midreth 79 A Tiger Tale John Bennett 94 An Odd Street Show ... Dr. Eugene Murray-Aaron 99 vii viii CONTENTS PAGE TSANG TSAN AND THE MaN-EATER . . John R. Coryell lOS A Terrible Gymnast . . . Mrs. m. sheffey Peters 114 Was He A Coward ? Laura e. Richards 127 An Adventure with a Man-eater . Waiter Campbell 137 The Wild-beast Tamer Cleveland Mojett 147 Which Would You Choose? .... .... 182 Lion Sayings 185 with illustrations by A. G. Dbring, Oliver Herford, H. Faber, J. L. Gerome, Alfred Kappes, S. G. McCutcheon, Charles Livingston Bull, Charles R. Knight, C. M. Relyea, John Bennett, A. Z. Baker, J. C. Beard, R. B. Birch, W. H. Drake, F. M. Du Mond, Jay Hambidge, Frank H. Schell, F. C. Klimsch, J. M. Gleeson. PREFACE Of all the cat family lions and tigers are the most to be feared, yet perhaps the most interesting. Fortu- nately for us, they are not found in either America or Europe outside of menageries. They live almost ex- clusively in very warm countries, where they are dreaded not only for the damage they do in destroying wild game and cattle, but because they may become " man-eaters " and spread terror over a whole region. For they are the largest of the strictly carnivorous animals, and fear nothing except the man with a gun. Yet they often attack even him. The trained lions and tigers you see in shows never become so tame that they can be trusted to wander around the house alone. When you read Mr. Bostock's chapter on wild-beast training you will realize how many months of care and patience are required to make these great cats do a few tricks without eating their keeper at the end of the entertainment. There is nothing droll or funny about a lion or a tiger as there is about a bear. They are not to be tempted by honey or peanuts. It is meat or nothing for them. X PREFACE Seeing a tiger in a cage or a group of performing lions, you may never have thought what terrible crea- tures they are to meet in the open. You can come face to face with a thousand wild animals in the woods with- out having an adventure; but if you meet a lion or a tiger and do not have an adventure you must refer to it ever afterward as a narrow escape! LION AND TIGER STORIES i^^^mii. v\ /,-. LIONS AND TIGERS LIONS The Liox (Felis leo) is called the King of Beasts, partly because of his great size and strength, partly for his dignity of manner. He is found throughout the whole of Africa, Ara- bia, Syria, and Persia. His color is tawny, and so closely resembles the deserts in which he gen- erally lives as to be al- most invisible. The male lion is somewhat larger than the female, and is possessed of a great shaggy mane which covers his head and shoulders and THE KING OF BE-^STS 2 LION AND TIGER STORIES makes him appear much larger than he really is. (See frontispiece.) On the end of his tail is a tuft of hair. The female has the tuft on her tail, but has no mane. The mane does not begin to grow until the lion is three years old. He is grown up at six, and may live to be thirty years old. A full-grown lion measures nine and a half feet or more from his nose to the tip of his tail, and weighs five or six hundred pounds. 4 LION AND TIGER STORIES The lion lives exclusively on other animals, which he hunts at night. He is as stealthy as a cat, but unlike the cat he does not always hunt in silence. He usually goes at twilight to a drinking-place where deer or other animals go. Sometimes he makes his catch easily, when he carries off the animal in his mouth to some con- venient place. But if the game is shy and wary he utters the most horrible roars. These so alarm the animals, particularly the young ones, that they break cover and run in every direction. The lion has only to select his victim, which too often runs toward him in its fright. When the lion hunts alone he does not dare to attack either the elephant or the rhinoceros, for fear of the tusks of the one or the horn of the other. Usually, however, he hunts with his mate, and neither the ele- phant nor the rhinoceros is a match for the two of them together. A SLEEPING LIONESS INTRODUCTION MEAL-TIME Lions do not climb trees, nor can they keep up a quick run for any distance. The lion is known as the " king of beasts," partly be- cause of his great strength and partly because of his supposed nobility of character. TIGERS The Tiger (Felis tigris) lives in Asia, and is found in India, China, Persia, and even as far north as Siberia. The color of the tiger is much more striking than that of the lion. On a ground of yellow are laid dark heavy stripes running from the middle of the back downward, his face being also marked. The tiger has some tufts of white hair resembling whiskers, and a patch of white upon the breast. His stripes give him a most ferocious appearance. The tiger is somewhat larger than the lion, though he does not appear so, on account of the lion's mane. LION AND TIGER STORIES His tail is ringed with dark bands, and there is no tuft upon the end such as the Hon has. The tiger Hves exclusively upon flesh, which he hunts by night. His method is to spring upon the back of his vic- tim, and break its neck with his powerful jaws. He then carries it away to his lair or den. So great is the strength of the tiger that he has been known to drag off a full-grown ox, and he can' pick up a calf and run with it as easily as a cat carries a mouse. The tiger is probably the most dreaded of all living animals. A tiger kills an ox or a cow every four or five days. This is hard enough for the poor farmer. But when a tiger grows too old and timid to attack cattle, he fre- A MOST FEROCIOUS APPEARANCE quently develops a taste for human fiesh and becomes a man-eater. He is then a terror indeed. LIONS AN ADVENTURE WITH A LION BY ERNEST INGERSOLL HOW the title " man-eater " is to be understood depends a great deal upon what part of the world you happen to be in. To us North Ameri- cans, and to our English cousins, it has a very foreign sound, since there is no animal in our forests, nor hardly any along our coasts, to which the term is commonly applied or would properly belong. If you should say " man-eater " in South America, the native would at once think of the cayman and the jaguar, and similarly, in India, the crocodile would be suggested along the Ganges, and the royal tiger in Bengal. In Africa it is the lion which would at once be brought to mind. To a West Indian, or to the pearl-fishers of any coast, the shark is the dreaded foe, while the Vancouver Indian looks upon the ugly cuttlefish as the man-eater of his region, and the Eskimo fears the polar bear. While all wild carnivorous beasts capable of coping with men may become man-eaters, — since human flesh is no doubt quite as palatable as the flesh of any of the lo LION STORIES other animals upon which they are accustomed to feed, — yet, properly speaking, only those are called " man- eaters " that, having once tasted human blood, are sup- posed always afterward to be hankering for it, and never to be quite satisiied with any less noble diet. They are thought to be forever on the watch for men, lying in ambush and seeking every means of destroying them, and never feeding on anything else, excepting to satisfy extreme hunger. Such beasts are credited with extraor- dinary size, strength, and ferocity. In Africa every district has a lion of this kind, which is feared by the whole region as much as all the rest of the lions there put together, and the case is equally true of central India. The lion truly deserves the royal name he bears. Although by no means of great size, the strength of his massive shoulders and fore legs, and of the thick muscles of his great neck and firm, square jaws, is so enormous that he can drag down the heaviest buffalo and overthrow the powerful giraffe, whose head towers above the trees, and whose skin is nearly an inch thick. There is no animal, even the elephant, which the lion hesitates to attack; yet, notwithstanding the power of the machinery which has been given him for this purpose, it has been packed in such small compass in his lithe body that he can overtake and prev upon quadru- peds as fleet as zebras and antelopes. AN ADVENTURE WITH A LION ii Although he has great speed, the Hon does not depend so much upon chase in the open field as upon strategy, in securing his prey. He follows about from pasture to pasture, and from spring to spring, the herds of deer and buffaloes as they change their feeding-places at different seasons. Remaining asleep, and concealed in the recesses of the forest or among secluded rocks, dur- ing the day, he sallies out at night in company with one or two friends, or perhaps with his mate and two half-grown cubs, or often alone, and repairs to the near- est water-hole. In Africa, water is very scarce. The springs are few and far between, and the animals of the whole region must resort to a particular fountain, sometime during the night, to quench the thirst which there alone can be allayed. The lion knows this, and goes to the vicinity of this spring, choosing the early part of the evening if the moon is to rise early, or waiting until morning, after the moon has set, if it be on the wane, so as not to show himself. When some convenient prey approaches, he leaps upon it, bears it down with his weight, breaking its neck by the stroke of his heavy paw or the crushing strength of his jaws, and drags the body away into the jungle, to be feasted upon at leisure. At such times, if you should happen to pass near him, you would hear a low, deep moaning as he eats, repeated five or six times, and ending in faintly audible sighs. At AN ADVENTURE WITH A LION 13 other times he startles the forest with loud, deep-toned, solemn roars, uttered in quick succession. Often, a troop may be heard roaring in concert, making music incon- ceivably grand to the hunter's ear. The effect is greatly enhanced when the hearer chances to be all alone in the depths of the forest, at the dead hour of midnight, and within twenty yards of the fountain which the troop of lions is approaching. In Central Africa many of the native tribes do not bury the bodies of their dead, but simply carry them forth and leave them lying anywhere on the plain. Lions are always prowling about, and, finding many of these corpses, do not hesitate to dine off them ; for it is not true that the king of beasts will not eat what he himself has not killed. Afterward, that lion, particularly if he is an old and cunning fellow, becomes a very dangerous neigh- bor. I do not believe that the lion has from the first a preference for the flesh of men over fresh venison or beef, but that it is an agreeable discovery to him that men are animals, and good to eat; and, furthermore, that he soon recognizes unarmed men as less able to resist or escape from him than are the four-footed beasts. He therefore keeps an eye out for human prey, since it costs him less trouble. In the tropical wastes of India, the forest, or jungle, is grown up very densely with cane, stout, tangled grass, 14 LION STORIES creepers, vines, and so on, until the only way to get through it is by following paths kept open by constant traveling. In traversing these dark and narrow pas- sages, the traveler is peculiarly exposed to attack from the lions and tigers which make the jungle their home, and the native Hindus are often stricken down. Then ensues a grand hunt from the nearest village, assisted by some English officer, who, with his cool courage and precise shooting, usually does more to kill the beast (if he is killed) than all the rest of the villagers combined. Generally the animal will try to get away and hide when he hears the hunters approaching. But if he is a hardened old man-eater, it does not take long to bring him to bay, since he has grown courageous, or reckless, or both. Then those who are on foot look out for their safety as best they can, usually by climbing the nearest tree, and those who are on horseback dismount and get upon the back of an elephant, where, in a sort of basket strapped upon the great animal, two or three will stand together, ready to shoot the moment they get a chance, while the elephant slowly crushes his way toward that spot in the thick jungle where the tiger is heard growl- ing. The books about life in India, and the letters which sportsmen write home to the English newspapers, are full of accounts of such hunts ; but none that I know of is more thrilling, or better shows the terrific danger AN ADVENTURE WITH A LION 15 sometimes encountered in such contests of man-eating lions and tigers with lion-kilHng men, than an incident related by Charles Waterton in his charming " Essays on Natural History." Three English officers and a lot of natives were hunt- ing for two lions, which had made a raid upon a village the night before, and in the course of the day one of the pair was killed, but the other escaped to the jungle. When at last his hiding-place was discovered, the three ofificers got upon an elephant and proceeded toward the heart of the jungle, to rouse the royal fugitive a second time. They found him standing under a large bush, with his face directly toward them. He allowed them to ap- proach within range of his spring, when he made a sud- den leap, and clung upon the elephant's trunk. The men fired, but without avail, and the elephant managed to shake his troublesome visitor off, but was so fright- ened that he became uncontrollable, and, when the lion made another spring at him, rushed, in headlong fear, out into the clearing. The officers, therefore, had to give up all idea of forcing the elephant to face the lion again, but one of them. Captain Woodhouse, took the desperate resolution to proceed on foot in quest of the game; and finally seeing him, fired through the bushes, the only ef- fect of which was to make the lion retire still deeper into the brake. 1 6 LION STORIES Resohed not to let the game escape, his companions, the two Heutenants, now took the elephant, intending to proceed around the jungle, so as to discover the route the lion had taken on the other side. But Captain Wood- house reloaded his rifle, and alone followed the tracks through the thicket. Finally, Lieutenant Delamain joined him. Proceeding cautiously, after a few steps the lieuten- ant saw the lion, and instantly fired, which enraged the beast so that he rushed toward him at full speed. Cap- tain AVoodhouse saw the movement, and knew that if he tried to get into a better position for firing, he would put himself directly in the way of the charge; so he de- cided to stand still, trusting that the lion would pass close by him unaware, when he could perhaps shoot to advantage. But he was deceived. The furious ani- mal saw him, and flew at him with a dreadful roar. In an instant the rifle was broken and thrown out of the captain's hand, his left arm at the same moment being seized by the claws and his right by the teeth of his antagonist. At this desperate juncture. Lieutenant Del- amain ran up and discharged his piece full at the lion. This caused both beast and man to fall to the ground together, while the lieutenant hastened out of the thicket to reload his gun. The lion now began to crunch the captain's arm; but as the brave man, notwithstanding AN ADVENTURE WITH A LION 17 the pain which this horrid process caused, had the cool, determined resolution to lie still, the lordly savage let the arm drop out of his mouth, and quietly placed himself in a crouching posture, with both his paws upon the thigh of his fallen foe. While things were in this un- toward position, the captain unthinkingly raised his hand to support his head, which had got placed ill at ease in his fall. Instantly the lion seized the lacerated arm a second time, and crunched it as before, breaking the bone higher up. This hint was not lost on Captain Woodhouse, who saw at once the imprudence of stirring, and to the motionless attitude which this lesson taught him to keep thereafter he undoubtedly owed his life. But while death was close upon him, as he lay bleeding and broken in the power of the most mighty enemy which a man can meet in the forest, and was closing his eyes to a world on the point of vanishing forever, he heard the welcome sound of feet approaching. But the lieu- tenants were in the wrong direction. Aware that, if his friends fired, the balls would hit him after they had passed through the lion's body, Captain Woodhouse quietly spoke in a low voice, " To the other side ! To the other side! " Hearing the voice, they for the first time saw the horrible position of their commander, and hav- ing cautiously but quickly made the circuit, Lieutenant Delamain, whose coolness had been conspicuous in many 1 8 LION STORIES an encounter with wild beasts, fired from a short dis- tance at the Hon, over the person of the prostrate war- rior. The beast started up a Uttle, quivered, the massive head sank down, and in an instant he lay dead, close be- side his intended victim. The lesson to be learned from this true story of nerve and heroism is that, when a person is in the power of a lion, tiger, leopard or panther, or any other of the great cats, he must feign death and lie absolutely still, if he hopes for life. Let him make a motion, and his foe will pounce upon him as the house-cat does on an escaping mouse; but so long as he keeps still he has a chance. Yet not every one has the nerve to do this. With dogs, wolves, and bears, on the other hand, the only way, when attacked, is to resist sturdily to the last limit of your strength, since, once having a victim in their power, they never cease worrying it until it is utterly dead. THE LION'S TOUR (A Fable) BY OLIVER HERFORD ^^^^ IS Majesty, the King of Beasts, Tired of fuss and formal feasts. Once resolved that he would go On a tour incognito. But a suitable disguise Was not easy to devise; Kingly natures do not care Other people's things to wear. The very thought filled him with shame. " No, I will simply change my name," Said he, " and go just as I am. And call myself a Woolly Lamb." 19 20 LION STORIES And so he did, and as you '11 guess, He had a measure of success. Disguised in name alone, he yet Took in 'most every one he met. The first was Mister Wolf, who said, "Your Majesty-" "Off with his head!" The angry monarch roared. " I am, I 'd have you know, a Woolly Lamb." ^^ ^t-f^^^m'^ 1 \ ■K^^r^'l THE LION'S TOUR 21 Then Mistress Lamb, who, being near, Had heard, addressed him: " Brother dear — " Ods-cats' " the hon roared, " my word! Such insolence I never heard ! " His rage was a terrific sight (It almost spoiled his appetite). And so it went, until one day He met Sir Fox, who stopped to say 22 LION STORIES (Keeping just far enough away, Yet in a casual offhand way, As if he did n't care a fig), i "■ Good morning to you, Thingumjig." Now everybody, small and big, Knows what is meant by Thingumjig; But what is now a household word In those days never had been heard. Sir Fox himself invented it This great emergency to fit. The King of Beasts, quite unprepared For this reception, simply stared. Of course he was not going to show There was a word he did not know. He bowed, and with his haughtiest air Resumed his walk; but everywhere He went his subjects, small and big. Took up the cry of Thingumjig. It followed him where'er he went; He did n't dare his rage to vent. Suppose it were a compliment? His anger then would only show Here was a word he did not know! THE LION'S TOUR The only course for him, 't was clear, Was to pretend he did not hear. And this he did until, at length. Long fasting so impaired his strength He gave his tour up in despair, 'Mid great rejoicing everywhere. 23 'the beast gave rt MIGHTY SPRING THE LION-KILLER (From the French of Duatyeff) BY MARY WAGER FISHER PEOPLE in Tunis, Africa, — at least, some of the older people, — often talk of the wonderful ex- ploits of a lion-killer who was famous there forty years ago. The story is this, and is said to be entirely true. The lion-killer was called the " Sicilian," because his native country was Sicily; and he was known as the " Christian " among the people in Tunis, who were mostly Arabs, and, consequently, Mohammedans. He was also called " Hercules," because of his strength, — that being the name of a strong demigod of the ancient Greeks. He was not built like Hercules, however; he was tall, but beautifully proportioned, and there was nothing in his form that betrayed his powerful muscles. He performed prodigies of strength with so much grace- fulness and ease as to astonish all who saw them. He was a member of a traveling show company that visited Tunis,— very much as menagerie and circus troupes go about this country now from town to town. 25 26 LION STORIES His part of the business was, not simply to do things that would display his great strength, but also to represent scenes by pantomime so that they would appear to the audience exactly as if the real scenes were being per- formed before their very eyes. In one of these scenes he showed the people how he had encountered and killed a lion with a wooden club in the country of Damas- cus. This is the manner in which he did it. After a flourish of trumpets, the Sicilian came upon the stage, which was arranged to represent a circle, or arena, and had three palm-trees in the middle. He was handsomely dressed in a costume of black velvet, trimmed with silver braid, and, as he looked around upon the audience with a grave but gentle expression, and went through with the Arabian salutation, which was to bear his right hand to his heart, mouth, and forehead successively, there was perfect silence, so charmed were the people with his beauty and dignity. Then an interpreter cried: " The Christian will show you how, with his club, he killed a lion in the country of Damascus ! " Immediately following this came another flourish of trumpets and a striking of cymbals, as if to announce the entrance of the lion. Quickly the Sicilian sprang behind one of the three palms, whence to watch his enemy. With an attentive and resolute eye, leaning his THE LION-KILLER 27 body first to the right, and then to the left, of the tree, he kept his gaze on the terrible beast, following all its movements with the graceful motions of his own body, so naturally and suitably as to captivate the attention of the spectators. " The lion surely is there ! " they whispered. '" We do not see him, but he sees him! How he watches his least motion! How resolute he is! He will not allow himself to be surprised!" Suddenly the Sicilian leaps; with a bound he has crossed from one palm-tree to another, and, with a sec- ond spring, has climbed half-way up the tree, still hold- ing his massive club in one hand. One understands by his movements that the lion has followed him, and, crouched and angry, stops at the foot of the tree. The Sicilian, leaning over, notes the slightest change of posture ; then, like a flash of light, he leaps to the ground behind the trunk of the tree; the terrible club makes a whistling sound as it swings through the air, and the lion falls to the ground. The scene was so well played that the wildest applause came from all parts of the audience. Then the interpreter came in, and, throwing at the feet of the Hercules a magnificent lion-skin, cried: " Behold the skin of the lion that the Christian killed in the country of Damascus." 28 LION STORIES The fame of the SiciUan reached the ears of the Bey of Tunis. But the royal dignity of the Bey, the reigning prince of that country, would not allow him to be present at exhibitions given to the common people. Finally, however, having heard so much about the hand- some and strong Sicilian, he became curious to see him, and said: " If this Christian has killed one lion with a club, he can kill another. Tell him that if he will knock down my grand lion with it, I will give him a thousand ducats " — quite a large sum in those days, a ducat being about equal to the American dollar. At this time the Bey had several young lions that ran freely about in the courtyard or garden of his palace; and in a great pit, entirely surrounded by a high terrace on a level with the ground floor of the palace, a superb Atlas lion was kept in royal captivity. It was this lion that the Bey wished the Sicilian to combat. The prop- osition was sent to the Sicilian, who accepted it without hesitation, and without boasting what he would do. The combat was to take place a week from that time, and the announcement that the handsome Sicilian was to fight a duel with the grand lion was spread far and wide, even to the borders of the desert, producing a pro- found sensation. Everybody, old and young, great and small, desired to be present ; moreover, the people would THE LION-KILLER 29 be freely admitted to the garden of the Bey, where they could witness the combat from the top of the terrace. The duel was to be early in the morning, before the heat of the day. During the week that intervened, the Sicilian per- formed every day in the show, instead of two days a week, as had been his custom. Never was he more calm, graceful, and fascinating in his performances. The evening before the eventful day, he repeated in panto- mime his victory over the lion near Damascus with so much elegance, precision, and suppleness as to elicit round after round of enthusiastic cheers. Of course everybody who had seen him play killing a lion was wild with curiosity to see him actually fight with a real lion. So, on the following morning, in the early dawn, the terrace around the lion's pit was crowded with people. For three days the grand lion had been deprived of food in order that he might be the more ferocious and terrible. His eyes shone like two balls of fire, and he incessantly lashed his flanks with his tail. At one moment he wovild madly roar, and in the next rub himself against the wall, vainly trying to find a chink between the stones in which to insert his claws. Precisely at the appointed hour, the princely Bey and his court took the places that had been reserved for them on one side of the terrace. The Sicilian came a few 30 LION STORIES steps behind, dressed in his costume of velvet and silver, and holding his club in his hand. With his accustomed easy and regular step, and a naturally elegant and dig- nified bearing, he advanced in front of the royal party and made a low obeisance to the Bey. The prince made some remark to him, to which he responded with a fresh salute ; then he withdrew, and descended the steps which led to the lion's pit. The crowd was silent. At the end of some seconds, the barred gate of the pit was opened, and gave entrance, not to the brave and powerful Hercules, but to a poor dog, that was thrown toward the ferocious beast with the intention of still more exciting its ravenous appetite. This unexpected act of cruelty drew hisses from the spectators ; but they were soon absorbed in watching the behavior of the dog. When the lion saw the prey that had been thrown to him, he stood motionless for a mo- ment, ceased to beat his flanks with his tail, growled deeply, and crouched on the ground, with his paws ex- tended, his neck stretched out, and his eyes fixed upon the victim. The dog, on being thrown into the pit, ran at once toward a corner of the wall, as far as possible from the lion, and, trembling, yet not overcome by fear, fixed his eyes on the huge beast, watching anxiously, but intently, his every motion. THE LION-KILLER 31 With apparent unconcern, the Hon creepingly advanced toward the dog, and then, with a sudden movement, he was upon his feet, and in a second launched himself into the air ! But the dog that same instant bounded in an opposite direction, so that the lion fell in the corner, while the dog alighted where the lion had been. For a moment the lion seemed very much surprised at the loss of his prey; with the dog, the instinct of self- preservation developed a coolness that overcame even his terror. The body of the poor animal was all in a shiver, but his head was firm, his eyes were watchful. Without losing sight of his enemy, he slowly retreated into the corner behind him. Then the lion, scanning his victim from the corners of his eyes, walked sidewise a few steps, and, turning suddenly, tried again to pounce with one bound upon the dog; but the latter seemed to anticipate this move- ment also, and, in the same second, jumped in the op- posite direction, as before, crossing the lion in the air. At this the lion became furious, and lost the calm- ness that might have insured him the victory, while the courage of the unfortunate dog won for him the sym- pathy of all the spectators. As the lion, excited and terrible, was preparing a new plan of attack, a rope ending in a loop was lowered to the dog. The brave little animal, whose imploring looks 32 LION STORIES had been pitiful to look upon, saw the help sent to him, and, fastening his teeth and claws into the rope, was immediately drawn up. The lion, perceiving this, made a prodigious leap, but the dog was happily beyond his reach. The poor creature, drawn in safety to the terrace, at once took flight, and was soon lost to view. At the moment when the lion threw himself on the ground of the pit, roaring with rage at the escape of his prey, the Sicilian entered, calm and firm, superb in his brilliant costume, and with his club in his hand. At his appearance in the pit, a silence like death came over the crowd of spectators. The Hercules walked rapidly toward a corner, and, leaning upon his club, awaited the onslaught of the lion, who, blinded by fury, had not yet perceived his entrance. The waiting was of short duration, for the lion, in turning, espied him, and the fire that flashed from the eyes of the terrible beast told of savage joy in finding another victim. Here, however, the animal showed for a moment a feeling of anxiety; slowly, as if conscious that he was in the presence of a powerful adversary, he retreated some steps, keeping his fiery eyes all the time on the man. The Sicilian also kept his keen gaze on the lion, and, with his body slightly inclined forward, marked every alteration of position. Between the two adversa- ries, it was easy to see that fear was on the side of the THE LION-KILLER 33 beast; but in comparing the feeble means of the man —a rude club— with the powerful structure of the lion, whose boundings made the very ground beneath him tremble, it was hard for the spectators to believe that courage, and not strength, would win the victory. The lion was too excited and famished to remain long undecided. After more backward steps, which he made as if gaining time for reflection, he suddenly advanced in a sidelong direction in order to charge upon his ad- versary. The Sicilian did not move, but followed with his fixed gaze the motions of the lion. Greatly irritated, the beast gave a mighty spring, uttering a terrible roar. The man, at the same moment, leaped aside, and the lion had barely touched the ground when the club came down upon his head with a dull, shocking thud. The king of the desert rolled heavily under the stroke, and fell head- long, stunned and senseless, but not dead. The spectators, overcome with admiration, and awed at the exhibition of so much calmness, address, and strength, were hushed into profound silence. The next moment the Bey arose and, with a gesture of his hand, asked mercy for his favorite lion. " A thousand ducats the more if you will not kill him ! " he cried to the Sicihan. " Agreed ! " was the instant reply. 34 LION STORIES The lion lay panting on the ground. The Hercules bowed at the word of the Bey, and slowly withdrew, still keeping his eyes on the conquered brute. The two thousand ducats were counted out and paid. The lion shortly recovered. With a universal gasp of relief, followed by deafen- ing shouts and cheers, the spectators withdrew from the terrace, having witnessed a scene they could never forget, and which, as I said at the beginning, is still talked of in Tvmis. KeMy-rt Cox* f^w Tu.Q*'0'"t. MARJORIE'S PERIL (y/ True Story of the Bush of Tamashaki) BY MARY LOCKWOOD IN the latter part of August one of her Majesty's brave Highland regiments, fresh from England by sea, landed at Durban, the flourishing seaport of the province of Natal, on the southeast coast of the African continent, and several companies were immediately or- dered up-country to a frontier post, a little fort at Tamashaki, upon the confines of the Transvaal and Zululand. It was rumored that their stay would not be long at Tamashaki, and, besides, it was a queer sort of place for women and children. But Sergeant McLeod would not leave his one motherless bairn behind, for he never felt easy when Marjorie was away from him. His men were not sorry to have her come, either, the bonny little Scottish lassie; for she was a great pet with them all, because she was so Scottish, and wholesome, and blithe, with her dimples and auburn curls, and merry gray eyes, ^ 35 36 LION STORIES and winsome ways. Then, too, she was a useful little lass, though only eight years old, and could darn the stockings and sew buttons on, and sweep the room, and boil the porridge as well as many an older person. The fort at Tamashaki had been intended in the be- ginning for a Zulu village, and, perhaps, was the un- canniest spot a little Scottish girl ever called " home." It was just a collection of thatched mud huts built around a large courtyard used for the parade-ground, inclosed by a circular fence of high bamboo canes, stuck upright into the ground very close to one another, and bound together with withes. There was no gate, but the circle was brought round so that the ends of the fence overlapped at the entrance in such a way as to prevent passers-by from seeing into the court. There was a sen- tinel stationed at the first entrance, who paced the ground where the gate should have been day and night, and Captain Knobel meant to have a gate made just as soon as he could procure the necessary material from the nearest Dutch settlement in the Transvaal. For several days Marjorie was too busy, helping her father and the others to make their funny little huts look a bit homelike with the few traps they had brought with them, to think much about the country that lay out- side their bamboo fence; in fact, she had never done more than peer around the corner of the last bamboo 38 LION STORIES post, across the sandy stretch on which the fort was built, and catch a glimpse of the green trees of the bush. A South African bush is a sort of forest jungle, abounding in luxuriant vegetation, and apt to be the lurking-place of savage beasts, whose growls and roars could be heard at night sometimes by the sentinel at the fort, though the terrible creatures never ventured into the open coun- try, or so rarely that no one at the station thought of being afraid of a savage visitor in the night-time. Four or five days after the arrival of the new troops at Tamashaki, Sergeant McLeod was ordered off with his men on an expedition to buy food, and lumber for the necessary repairs. This would take him one whole day, so he left his Maidie, as he called her, in the charge of Private Brown's wife. She was very kind to the child, and kept her close by her all the morning. But after dinner Mrs. Brown was summoned to see a sick woman, and Maidie, left to her own devices, got tired of darning her father's socks, and thought she would go look for Victoria Albertina, the solemn white cat one of the soldiers had given her at Durban. So she strayed into the parade-ground before the hut, but the Queen's namesake had gone on a scout after some African mouse, and was nowhere to be seen. The inclosure was very quiet ; the hot afternoon sun had driven every one under shelter, except the man on guard, who, in his white have- MARJORIE'S PERIL 39 lock, was cuddling the shade, and just creeping along up and down the narrow passage between the fences. But Mar jorie did not mind the sun ; children seldom do. " I '11 jist gang fetch my hat," she quickly decided, " and try to find a pretty brook, and some flowers for my daddy, to gie him the nicht." Then she skipped into McLeod's hut, and reached her brown hat down from its peg, and tied it over her tawny curls, when it suddenly occurred to her that her daddy might be home before her, so, like the thoughtful little housewife that she was, she spread the table and set out the tankard of beer and bowl of " par- ritch," in readiness for him, with great care, then danced out past the sleepy Robbie^ who happened to be at the far end of his beat. He was drowsily conscious, as he turned in his slow and steady tramp, of a clear, small voice piping the pa- thetic air of " Land o' the Leal " away off somewhere. But how remorsefully he remembered afterward that he did not take the trouble to do more than blink around to see where the song came from. "It sounds for a' the warld like bonny Maidie! Where can she ha' hid hersel'?" he wondered; but thinking was too much exertion that hot afternoon, so he gave it up. The shrill, sweet young voice died away, and silence 40 LION STORIES fell on the little post. After a while the guard was changed, and Rob went ofif to his supper and forgot all about Marjorie, who, meantime, had made her way as fast as her little feet could carry her across the stretch of scorching sand that lay between the fort and the inviting shade of the bush. The afternoon sun still rode high in the cloudless heavens, and not a sound was heard but the whirring of insects in the sand, as Maidie sprang with a cry of delight into an opening in the thicket of acacia or white-thorn trees which bordered the arid plain. She already spied some lovely little flow- ers growing close to the ground not far off. They were gloxinias, pale blue, pink, and white, and she soon gath- ered her apron full of them. ■'What a beautiful posy I '11 make my daddy! " she thought delightedly. But, as she penetrated deeper into the bush, she forgot the pale gloxinias in her excitement over the treasures that opened to her view, and dropped half of them as she made her way along, marking her path through the wood by flowers, as Hop-o'-my-Thumb did by pebbles in the nursery tale. Presently she came to a gorge with fantastic rocks on either side, rising like towers and castles and church spires. There was the bed of the river in this gorge, but the river was not flowing ; all the water seemed to have run off somewhere else; though the bed was moist and all overgrown with MARJORIE'S PERIL 41 lovely creepers and grasses and wax-like ice-plant. All along the banks were great reeds as tall as giants, of all sorts of lovely colors. Bright scarlet flowers grew on some of the rocks, and blue and yellow and crimson flow- ers bloomed on the trees. Maidie had never in her life seen such lovely woods. " They must be fairy-tale woods," she thought, and she was quite bewildered what to gather first of the pretty things about her. She took off her hat and made a basket of it for carrying delicate lilies and ferns; she tied some green moss up in her little handkerchief " to mak' a garden wi' outside our door " ; and she wound long tendrils of clematis and asparagus-vine around her waist, and stuck geraniums and fragrant jasmine and the yellow mimosa-blossom in this clustering girdle, until she looked like a walking posy herself ; and ever and anon some fresh beauty or wonder tempted her farther and farther into the bewitching, dangerous woods. She felt so happy, it seemed to her as if she could do any- thing, as she sprang from stone to stone or pressed her rosy cheek against the soft, thick moss, or buried her eager little nose in the white corolla of a lily. On and on she strayed, playing she was a fairy and singing loudly, " Up the airy mountain, down the rushy glen," until she fairly set a monkey, far above her in an ebony-tree, chattering back; but she was too busy 42 LION STORIES to hear him. Presently she came to a rock, some few hundred paces from the river, projecting over a pool of clear but very dark-looking water. On the rock grew some beautiful air-plants with scarlet flowers, the in- side of their gay cups lined with lemon-color. In the soft sand near this pool were many great footprints. The lions had been there to drink at night. Maidie, in reaching over to get one of the brilliant flowers, dropped her hat in the pool, and, do what she might, could not reach it again. She could have cried to see her pretty brown basket, piled full of lilies and ferns, floating off from her; for she suddenly became conscious that it was growing darker in the woods, and that she ought to be finding her way home, as daddy would be scared about her. So she grasped the re- mainder of her treasures more firmly, and turned her resolute little face homeward, or in what she thought to be the homeward direction. Somehow, it was a great deal harder picking her way over the stones as she went back; there were so many slippery places and so many vines and thorny bushes in the way, and Marjorie won- dered why the woods seemed so much darker almost immediately. She did not know how long she had been out, nor that the early night was falling very fast, nor, worse still, that she was going quite in the wrong direc- tion. Coming to no opening in the hopeless maze of MARJORIE'S PERIL 43 trees, no landmark that she had noticed before, it seemed to her she had come but a Httle, Httle way from the edge of the bush. At last it grew so dark, and the way seemed so strange, that she just sat down to think. How tired she was ! How glad she would be to get home again ! At last she determined to go straight back to the pool and wait there for her daddy. She was so sure in her per- fect faith that he would, of course, come to her — and he would see her more easily in that open place. She was not afraid. Her father had told her that God's good angels watch over children who try to do right, and she had never meant to be naughty. So she bravely turned, and painfully picked her way along until, pres- ently, she came right to the edge of a sheet of black water ; it seemed to her the same she had left, but it was, in reality, quite a different pool. There was the rock close to her; she would climb up and sit on the ledge, it was all so wet where she was standing. After trying unsuccessfully to step over the stones, she finally pulled off her shoes and waded in the pool to the rock, but found the sides were so high and slippery that she could not climb them. Neither could she see to get back. All that was left for her to do was to plant her little shoe- less feet in the water and brace herself firmly against the steep, rough rock and wait patiently for daddy. The shoes 44 LION STORIES were gone, — dropped in trying to climb the rock, — the pinafore was torn and soiled, and the gay vines andall the flowers were drag- gled and drooped AS SHE ST-^OD BO^T ^PRIGuT iN "It's verra dark; I'll say my prayers, anyhow, whiles I 'm waitin'," said Maidie.. " I '11 be too sleepy when I get hame; only I canna kneel doon verra weel, MARJORIE'S PERIL 45 but God will na mind that." So the dear little lass clasped her hands and said " Our Father " and " Now I lay me," and did not know, herself, how pathetic it was, as she stood bolt upright in the dark water that covered the small feet and ankles. While she prayed, the moon came out overhead, and its faint light strug- gled through the trees and touched the rock and the child's bright hair; and after a while something be- sides the moonlight visited the pool — something that came with heavy tread over the sand, and stooped and drank of the water, and slunk back again into its lair of darkness. Another and another of these visitors came, as the night hours went on, and drank, and glow- ered at the little child with red, fierce eyes, and even rubbed their noses against her face and hands; then shook their yellow manes as they went muttering and growling away. Not one of them so much as touched a hair of her innocent head. A couple of hours after Marjorie's departure, the scouting-party came into the fort and was piped off to supper. Of course. Sergeant McLeod expected to find his little lass waiting for him at his own door, and was rather disappointed not to see her there. " She 's fixed my parritch, bless her heart," he remarked, seat- ing himself to the enjoyment of his meal, for which he had a pretty good appetite, thanks to his long tramp; 46 LION STORIES " she '11 be back anon." But Maidie did not appear, even after he had drained his beer tankard and lighted his pipe, so, with a slight feeling of uneasiness in spite of himself, he put his pipe in his mouth, and stepped, rather briskly, over to Mrs. Brown's. " Maidie not home? " repeated that good soul, aghast. " AVhy, I left her here — it 's a couple of hours or so — to go see Freeman's sick wife. She was darnin' your sock like a lamb, and was fixin' to get your supper ready in time. She 's off visitin' the neebors, likely." Further inquiry was made, but no one had seen the child for hours. Then it occurred to the sergeant, with a pang of terror, that she might have strayed outside the gateless inclosure, and he hunted up the man who had been on guard that afternoon, to question him. Poor, slow-witted Robbie could at first recall nothing, but, after cudgeling his brains awhile, he remembered the song which had come to him as in a dream, and ex- claimed, contritely, that he must have let the bonny bairn run out under his nose, blockhead that he was. Beside himself with anxiety, the father peered about until he detected in the fine sand of the court two or three tiny footprints that pointed outward. Stepping outside, he saw some others, faint and light, to be sure, but undoubtedly his Maidie's; such tracks could have been made by no one else in the garrison. MARJORIE'S PERIL 47 Restraining his wild impulse to follow the dear child's footsteps immediately, McLeod turned back hastily to beat up recruits to go with him. If she had strayed down to the bush, he might need assistance to find her, and he trembled as he thought of the hidden horrors of that fair and deceitful wilderness. A number of the men volunteered willingly enough, when the news of the loss of the sergeant's Maidie spread through his post, for the child's pretty, bright, obliging ways had made her such a darling that nearly all the rough, simple fellows would have done anything for her. They tracked her easily down to the bush, but among the stones and mosses and tangled ways the traces soon became confused and undecided, and at length were hopelessly lost. True, they tracked her for a distance by means of some of the flowers she had dropped, which McLeod picked up and kissed and put in the breast of his jacket, so sure he felt that she had gathered them. Long hours they searched and shouted, and climbed trees and cut down bushes and vines, going everywhere but in the right direction. As the night darkened among those gloomy shades, they shuddered to hear the growls and roars of the beasts of prey coming forth from their dens and lairs to seek what they might devour. Some of the men grew discouraged and wearied out, and returned to the fort. It did not seem possible that the 48 LION STORIES poor bairnie could ever be found, alive or dead. But the father would not give up the search for a moment; he vi^ould have stayed there in the bush if every man had left him. At midnight, Lieutenant Ramsay came out with some fresh men to aid in the search, and joined the others just as they struck the river-bed where Mar- jorie had gone wild with delight over the beautiful and brilliant flowers a few hours before. They followed it painfully by the light of their torches and of the watery moonshine, until they gained the pool near the gorge, dark and dismal enough as the shadows lay upon it. " One of the lions' drinking-places," said Mr. Ram- say, and stopped to pick up something that floated to his feet. They all knew it — Maidie's little brown hat, with one or two soaked lilies and ferns fastened to it yet. Robbie Bell fell on his knees and sobbed like a child. " Lord keep the puir bairnie frae the jaws o' the lion! " he cried, and more than one man added an Amen. It seemed a forlorn hope, but on they trudged, com- pelled at times to stop and rest, strong men as they were, and at last their lurid torches flickered and grew faint in the gray dawn, when the damp mists rose up from the moist ground, and the growlings of the lions who had been kept ofif by the torch-glare grew fainter and less frequent, and at length died away altogether. McLeod was ahead of the others, with the young lieu- MARJORIE'S PERIL 49 THE POOL NEAR THE GORGE tenant; they had flung away their torches, and pushing through a thicket came suddenly upon the sandy shore of another lion-pool, the sand all trodden down and covered with fresh marks of lion-paws. A black rock loomed up out of the water just opposite them, and hardly had they emerged from the thicket when McLeod gave a gasping cry and dashed through the water. Malcolm Ramsay could not make out the reason of this movement at first, but in another instant he caught sight of a little shoe floating slowly on the pool, and next he saw a wee form standing in the water braced against the rock, bareheaded, her bright curls falling all 50 LION STORIES about the tired little face, blue and ghastly in the weird light, the eyes round and wide and strained, with a pitiful, watching look in them, the two small hands tightly clasped together and dropped before her. But instantly a look of joy came into the sweet eyes, an angel smile made the little face radiant. She had seen her father. He gained her side, and, with a cry of in- expressible joy, clasped his baby, his treasure, in his arms. One by one all came up through the thicket, as though an electric message had brought them. McLeod strode through the water, bearing her in his strong arms, him- self crying like a baby, while she raised a trembling little hand and stroked his brown face and kissed his rough cheek. The men all gathered about dear Maidie, kissing her hands and dress, and even her little stained foot. Some of them pointed to the countless lion-tracks all about; some fell on their knees and hid their faces. It seemed difficult to believe that this was really their Maidie, and that she was alive; for, by all tokens, she must have been the very center of a host of lions through- out the dreadful night. " Maidie darling," said Lieutenant Ramsay, in a choked voice, " were not you afraid? " " Na," said the innocent lassie, turning her eyes on him, " not a bit afeard. I knew daddy wad luik for MARJORIE'S PERIL 51 me, and God wad tak' care o' me till he cam' ; but I was weary waitin', and a bit lanesome, too, till some dogs cam' to drink the watter, and they seemed company, like." " Dogs ? " echoed the young man. "Aye. Big, yellow dogs; I never seed sic grand big anes. They rubbed their noses on my face and glow- ered at me; but I did na min' them, not a bit." How the men looked at one another ! To think of her safe among the lions all night, — the fearsome beasts seeking their prey, — and not a hair of her head harmed! Then the tired head sank on her father's shoulder, and safe in his tender hold, the watching and waiting, the irksomeness and pain all past, the child's eyes closed, and she dropped dead asleep— the sleep of utter exhaustion, which asserted itself now that the brave spirit had no need to bear up the frail little body any longer. And so he carried her home. A LION MET A LITTLE BOY WELL VERSED IN HUNTERs' LORE. THEN SPAKE HE TO THAT WELL-READ BOY : " WOULDST UK.E TO HEAR ME ROAR?" 52 "yes, thank you," said the little boy, who scorned all paltry fright. the lion roared ; then asked the boy : " wouldst like to see me bite?" S3 "OH YES," REPLIED THAT PLUCKY BOY, WHO COOLLY EYED HIS GUN ; "BUT FIRST I'd LIKE TO TRY THIS TOY j — WOULDST LIKE TO SEE SOME FUN?" 54 THEN FLED THAT LION FROM THE BOY, AS BEAST ne'er RAN BEFORE ; AND TO THIS DAY THAT LITTLE BOY ENJOYS HIS hunters' LORE. 55 A LION HUNT IN A SEWER BY FRANK C. BOSTOCK THERE is a fascination about wild-animal training which few who have once felt it escape. The con- stant presence of danger calls for quick judgment and promptness in meeting an emergency. A thrilling ex- perience of mine in Birmingham, England, in 1889, may show the critical situation in which a wild-animal show- man is sometimes placed. A country fair was being held at the time, very similar to the fairs held in America, which bring into the city country people from all parts, most of whom look upon them as events in their lives. We had a remarkably fine specimen of an African lion at that time ; well formed, well grown, with a handsome head and shoulders covered with a fine darkish mane. He had been much admired, and had been referred to by several naturalists as a typical king of beasts for his haughtiness and dignified bearing. This lion was, however, one of the greatest worries and anxieties I have ever had. He had killed one man, 56 A LION HUNT IN A SEWER 57 and wounded several attendants, so powerful were his paws, and so quick his movements in reaching out of his cage. He required the most careful watching at all times, and was a very difficult animal to manage, in spite of unlimited time and patience spent on him. Kind- ness had no effect on him whatever. Special dainties he took with a growl, watching all the time for the least opportunity to grab and tear the giver. To attempt any sort of punishment or discipline with him would have been fatal; he was far too dangerous an animal to risk arousing his wild nature, and the only thing we could do was to keep him perfectly quiet, see that he was not irritated in any way, and was made as comfortable and happy as was possible, with good food, a clean house, and another lion for companionship. The second lion was removed from the malcontent by an iron partition, as it appeared a little doubtful how he would be received. We intended transferring both lions on the opening day to a much larger cage, where they w^ould have more space and comfort, and also have a much better opportunity of being seen. The opening day was remarkable for its fine weather ; crowds of people were flocking into the city from all parts, and everything promised to be a huge success. We ran one of our big cages on wheels up to the cage containing the two lions, and placing the cages door 58 LION STORIES to door, dropped a lasso over the quiet lion's neck, and by gentle twitches induced him to enter the big cage. Then we tried the same tactics with the African lion, but with very different results. Time after time he slipped the noose from his great body and tore madly up and down the cage, as though possessed of the strength of twenty lions. We waited a few minutes until he stopped to roar, and then once more slipped the rope over him. With a terrific wrench and twist he got himself free, and, with such a wild bound that the cages shook again, he sprang into the next cage so sud- denly and with such terrific force as to cause the wagon to move away upon its wheels ; and before the attendants could close the door, he sprang over their heads and into the street, where for the time he was as free and un- trammeled as when in his native wilds. To approach him probably meant death, but in spite of this we tried to capture him with ropes and the lasso, but without success. Suddenly he turned back, dashed through the lions' tent to the rear of the building, pushed himself through a rift, and made off for the city of Bir- mingham, which contained at that time over two hun- dred thousand people. On his way he came to one of the openings of the many sewers which empty the waste of the city, and down he sprang, looking up at the crowd of people and A LION HUNT IN A SEWER 59 roaring at the top of his voice. In about twenty min- utes nearly every person in Birmingham knew what had happened, and the greatest consternation prevailed everywhere. The fear was intensified by the fact that as the lion made his way through the sewers, he stopped at every manhole he came to, and there sent up a suc- cession of roars that echoed and reverberated until the very earth seemed to be full of weird sounds, driving some of the people nearly wild with terror. I was at my wits' end. There was the danger of the lion escaping from the sewer at any moment and killing some one, for which I should be responsible, while there was also the greater danger that there would be a riot among the crowd. Something must be done to allay their fears, and quickly. People were beginning to flock toward the menagerie in thousands, with anything but complimentary speeches. After one of the worst quarters of an hour I ever spent, I gathered as many of my men as could be spared from the show, put a lion into a large shifting-cage, and covering the whole thing with canvas, in order that the lion should not be seen, we set off for the mouth of the sewer, all armed with as many ropes, pitchforks, pistols, etc., as we could carry. On arriving, we placed the cage at the mouth of the sewer, with the door facing it. I knew perfectly well that the lion would much prefer 6o LION STORIES to remain in his cage than to enter the darkness of that evil-smelling sewer, and so it proved. Then, with three of my attendants, I went three blocks back, lowering ropes down each of the manholes on our way until we pretended we had found the lion, and then I lowered myself into the depths through the third man- hole. The next thing was to fire blank cartridges, blow horns, and shout as loudly as possible; and, owing to the peculiar echo, the noise was deafening. One of the attendants had been instructed at a given signal to lift the iron door of the cage up and down quickly, and then suddenly clap the door down with a shout. Everything went ofif well. At the sound of the door closing, a shout went up from the crowd: " They 've got him ! They 've got him ! They 've got the lion ! " The cage containing the lion was then driven quickly toward the menagerie, with myself and attendants seated on top, followed by an admiring crowd of thousands of people. When we finally reached the front of the ex- hibition, some of the men in the crowd rushed forward and carried me in victory on their shoulders into the menagerie, while the cage containing the bogus lion was restored to its original place in the menagerie. Over forty thousand people filed into the show, until we were positively obliged to refuse admission to any more. A LION HUNT IN A SEWER 6i Meanwhile I was in a perfect bath of cold perspiration, for matters were extremely serious, and I knew not what to do next. The fears of the people were allayed for the time, and a probable riot had been stopped only just in time, but the lion was still in the sewer. He might get out at any moment — might be out even then, for all I knew — or he might roar again and so let his where- abouts be known and my deception, which would cause a greater riot than before. As soon as possible I placed trusty men with iron bars at the mouth of the sewer; and as, fortunately, the lion stopped his roaring, and contented himself with per- ambulating up and down the sewer through the narrow miles of tunneling, things were quiet for the time. When everything had been done that was possible I went to bed, but as that was the most anxious night I have ever had, it is scarcely necessary for me to say that sleep was out of the question. On the afternoon of the following day, the chief of police of Birmingham came to see me, and congratulated me on my marvelous pluck and daring. This made me feel worse than before, and I at once made a clean breast of the whole thing. I shall never forget that man's face when he realized that the lion was still in the sewer: it was a wonderful study for any mind-reader. At first he was inclined to blame me; but when I showed him 62 LION STORIES I had probably stopped a panic, and that my own ha- biHties in the matter were pretty grave possibihties to face, he sympathized with me, and added that any help he could give me, I might have. I at once asked for five hundred men of the police force, and also asked that he would instruct the super- intendent of sewers to send me the bravest men he could spare, with their top-boots, ladders, ropes, and revolvers with them, so that should the lion appear, any man could do his best to shoot him at sight. We arranged that we should set out at five minutes to twelve, midnight, so that we might avoid any crowd following us, and so spreading the report. At the appointed time, the police and sewer-men turned out, and I have never seen so many murderous weapons at one time in my life. Each man looked like a walking arsenal, but every one of them had been sworn to secrecy, and there was determination and de- sire for adventure on the face of each one. Among so many, and with so much ammunition, the danger had diminished to a minimum, provided the lion did not get one man at a time cornered in some narrow place. The police and sewer-men were to be stationed at every manhole in every district in which the lion was believed to be, within a radius of a mile. The empty cage was brought and placed at the mouth of the sewer, the other A LION HUNT IN A SEWER 63 end of which had been blocked up so that the Hon's only means of exit was the open door of the cage. Then three trusty men and myself, accompanied by my giant boar-hound, Marco, lowered ourselves into the manhole, crawling on our hands and knees, and not knowing at any moment when we should come upon the lion. With such suddenness that we all jumped, Marco gave a sharp bark, followed by a curious throaty growl, and I knew that the faithful creature had found the scent and was giving warning of the enemy's where- abouts. This boar-hound of mine had been trained to perform with wild animals and lions, and was a stanch and game fighter. He was not to be cowed by any lion on earth, but if he could only once get a hold, would hang on like grim death. As we went slowly and cautiously along, I suddenly saw two gleaming eyes of greenish red just beyond, and knew we were face to face with the lion at last. I at once sent one man back to shout the location of the runaway to the others, and then, dropping on all fours, blowing horns, firing off blank cartridges, and letting off Roman candles,— which spat and fizzed in a most uncanny manner in the tunnel, — we went cautiously for- ward, hoping to drive the lion to his cage, only two blocks away. 64 LION STORIES But at this juncture a terrific fight took place between the boar-hound and the Hon, and it is needless to say that the danger to all parties under these circumstances in that narrow, dark sewer was extremely great. It was not until the boar-hound had been severely slashed and torn by the lion on his shoulders and hind quarters, and his head badly bitten in several places, that he left his savage antagonist and came to me with a whimper for protection. He had held on until he was at his last gasp, and had let go only just in time to save his life. I sent him back to the men to be taken care of, and then went on with the fight myself. Taking off my big jack-boots, I put them on my hands and arms, and going up close to the lion, was fortunately able to hit him a stinging blow on the nose with one of them. Fearing that he would split my head open with a blow from one of his huge paws, I told one of my men to place over my head a large iron kettle which we had used to carry cartridges and other things to the sewer. While he was trying to fix this, the kettle tipped and rolled over and went crashing down the sewer, making a noise and racket which echoed and resounded throughout the whole length of the narrow tunnel in the most appalling manner. The lion, who had resisted everything else in the way of capture, at once turned tail like a veritable coward, and, racing down the sewer at a mad gallop, was soon A LION HUNT IN A SEWER ' 65 lost to sight, as though the earth had suddenly swal- lowed him. We wondered where he could have gone, as he had not had time enough to run far, but following him up, we found him in a sorry plight. There was an eight-foot fall in the rear of the sewer, and this was evidently his reason for being so reluctant to turn back until frightened by the kettle. We did not know of this, and consequently tumbled headlong into it. We were not hurt, and as the lion was now roaring terrifically, we followed him up and soon found out the cause of his trouble. In the act of falling he had caught his hind legs and quarters in one of the slip-nooses which had been dropped down the manhole to secure him, and was hanging head downward from the manhole. Other strong ropes were let down immediately, for he would soon have died in that position, and we were fortunate enough to secure his head and fore paws. The cage was then placed at the manhole, and when we had run the ropes through thai cage and out over the side- walk, the men began to haul, and in this unkingly fashion the king of beasts was dragged out of his prison and into his cage once more, where he never again had an op- portunity to escape. So I got the lion out of the sewer, as the people of Birmingham supposed I did, only their praise and applause were a little previous. But I hope never to have such another terrible experience. Q A HUNGRY CUSTOMER UOTH the Lion, " My mane is a bore, For I dwell in a tropical clime ; I have called upon Barbers galore But — they never can get through in time 1 " THE LITTLE LION WITH THE BIG VOICE BY ANNA ISABEL LYMAN ONCE, in a great big forest, there lived a whole fam- ily of lions. Now, the oldest of the little lions— Jager was his name — gave his father and mother a great deal of trouble, for — what do you think? — he be- lieved he had a musical voice, and would go out at all times of the day and night, roaming around the forest, singing, as he called it. But the fact is, he had the most awful voice you ever heard; it was a terrible roar and a howl, and it was so loud that he could be heard for miles and miles. Now, the other animals in the forest would be so an- noyed when they heard this frightful sound that they used to jump out of their dens and chase him. He would only roar the more at that ; and when the other animals would howl, too, with rage, there would be the most terrible racket in that forest ! All the baby animals woke up and began to cry, and, really, the confusion was most distressing. e 69 70 LION STORIES " We can't stand it any longer," said the porcupine, one day. " No, indeed," answered the fox. " I 'd stop his noise, if I once had a chance at him." So they went to the den of the father and mother hon, and told them that if they did n't do something to hush up Jager, all the animals of the forest would chase out the entire family. It was most inconvenient for the family to travel, for all Jager's brothers and sisters were young and trouble- some, so the father lion said that night, when Jager came walking into the den, his tail up straight, and a grin on his face: " Jager, all the creatures have had enough of your voice." Then he told what the animals had made up their minds to do. Jager lashed his tail and opened his mouth to give a roar (for he expressed his feelings that way), when the father lion clapped his paw over his mouth. " Didn't I tell you the animals had said, ' One more roar, and we will chase him ' ? " " Well, I shall leave this forest to-night," said Jager, " and I '11 travel and travel until I find some one who can appreciate my voice." " You will have to travel on forever, then," said one of the brother lions who was listening. Jager paid no attention to him, but marched out of the den and through the forest. When he came near to the THE LITTLE LION WITH THE BIG VOICE 71 hyenas' den, he said to himself, " I '11 give one little roar, to wake up those cross hyena babies, for they are just too disagreeable for anything." And he opened his mouth and let out his voice, and— my! my! I tell you, he had to hurry. The animals leaped out from behind bushes and chased him, and he had to run for his very life. They all chased and chased through the forest till they came to a river. Jager jumped in, and all the animals who could swim jumped after him. The fish were most astonished to see such a crowd of animals leap into the river in a hurry, and thought the animals had become terribly fond of swimming, all at once. When Jager reached the other side he was about exhausted, but he scrambled out and laid himself down in a den in the rocks. Peeking out with one eye, he saw the animals hunting for him, and he heard one say : "jager laid himself down in a den in the rocks" 72 LION STORIES " He must have been eaten up by a shark in the river." They all were so afraid that they too might be eaten up by a shark on the way back that they decided to go home another way. Jager poked his head all the way out of his hiding- place, and laughed to himself to see them all taking the longest way home, when they were so tired that they could hardly hold up their heads. Well, Jager was so tired himself with the chase that he slept in the den that night and the next day. When he woke up, at last, he felt fine, and started out once more on his journey. By and by he came to a big mountain, and up it he climbed. On the top was a big castle, and into it he walked to see what he could see. Now, in this castle there lived, all alone, a giant ogre. He was not so bad an ogre as some, but still, he was frightful to look upon, and the people in the country at the bottom of the mountain were afraid of him. Well, Jager walked right in, and there, on a table, fast asleep, was the ogre. " My ! my ! " said Jager. " I 'd like to let out my voice all at once, just for the fun of seeing him jump." So he crept up to the ogre closer and closer, and when his nose was right up to the ogre's ear, he gave a most terrible roar. THE LITTLE LION WITH THE BIG VOICE Ji Well, that ogre leaped off the table at one bound, and stood in the corner of the room, rubbing his ear. " Did you hear that terrible noise? " said he to Jager. " It sounded like thunder, or as if all the animals in the forest were yelling at their very loudest." " You don't say ! " remarked Jager, grinning behind his paw. " Would you like to hear it again? " " If you know what that noise was, tell me at once," said the ogre. " And who are you, anyway, and what are you doing in my castle? Tell me what was that noise, or I '11 twist your tail." And he seized it and gave it a fearful tweak. " Let go, and I '11 tell you," said Jager. He thought he would just let that ogre know that he was no animal to be snubbed in that way, so he said : " Put down your ear, so that I can whisper what it was." The ogre put down his ear, and Jager gave a roar into it so loud that the ogre leaped right up into the air. " Don't do it again," shouted he, when he saw Jager open his mouth for another — " not until I am a hundred miles off!" " Well," said Jager, " I have rather an unusual voice." " I should think so ! " said the ogre. " If you '11 prom- ise you won't make such a noise right away, I '11 tell you something." 74 LION STORIES Jager promised, and the ogre came and sat down be- side him. " I know how your voice could be put to a most magnificent use," said he to the little lion. " That 's just what I came traveling to find," said Jager. The ogre began to laugh. " Here," said he, " here is a great plan. To-morrow a big army of savages are com- ing to kill and ravage about this country, and you and I will just go out to meet them; and if you give a roar like that, and they do not know what it is, I 'm sure they '11 turn and run as fast as they can go ! " " That is a fine idea," said Jager; " for, really, I can make a noise twice as loud and awful as the one I have just made. You listen to me, now." But the ogre ran for the door as fast as he could go. " Wait till I get a mile or two away," said he, " before you begin." So Jager waited, and that afternoon he practised and practised, till his voice was terrible to hear. When the ogre came home he gave Jager, besides a good dinner, some soothing medicine for his throat, so that it would be in condition for the morning. The next day Jager and the ogre started out. Far oflf, in the distance, they saw the savages coming. The savages saw the ogre and Jager, but thought they could easily finish them. THE LITTLE LION WITH THE BIG VOICE 75 They did n't know, did they ? On they came, rushing, terrible to see. The ogre swung his club, and Jager lashed his tail, and laughed to himself. " When I say ' three,' " said the ogre, " you roar and make the biggest noise you can, and I will rush at them, and we will see what will happen. I am going to begin now. One—" Jager took in a big breath. " Two—" Jager opened his mouth. "Three!" Jager roared— a roar so enormous and terrible the savages fell down in a heap with fright ; and when they saw the ogre coming at them, swinging his club, and heard another terrible sound, more frightful than the first, they just took to their heels, and did not stop to look behind until they had reached their own homes. And, what's more, they never tried to ravage and kill in that country again ; for they believed it to be protected by some frightful mon- ster. As for the ogre and Jager, the people in the country near were so thankful for their protection that they gave them presents and things ; and the ogre and Jager lived happy ever after in the castle on the mountain. And every evening Jager sat on a rock on the very tiptop, and practised his voice, until it grew into some- thing most astonishing. THE MUSICAL LION BY OLIVER HERFORD Said the Lion : " On music I dote, But something is wrong with my throat. When I practise a scale, The listeners quail. And flee at the very first note ! " TIGERS THE ARMS OF AHMED BY JULIA K. HILDRETH HOW cool and fresh it was after the glaring heat of the Indian day ! The many doors and windows of the bungalow were thrown open to admit the sweetly scented breeze. The white curtains waved softly back- ward and forward under the deep-roofed veranda. From one of the apartments came a low, crooning sound ; Golab, the ayah, or nurse, was singing the little one to sleep. Ahmed, as he glided by, caught a glimpse of the lace- trimmed cradle, and dear little Percy's great blue eyes watching him. Every one upon the plantation loved Baby Percy, or " Percy Baba," as the natives called him. He was not peaked and cross like most English children living in India, but smiling and rosy as the sky at dawn. But no one, not even the " Mem Sahib " herself, loved little 79 8o TIGER STORIES Percy as did Ahmed. He worshiped the very ground upon which the child's tiny feet rested. But Nurse Golab was a jealous old woman, and would scarcely allow Ahmed to look at her charge. He saw her white-robed figure crouching by the cradle now, and paused, half resolved to run in and kiss the dimpled hand as it lay on the silken coverlet. The child's bed stood midway in the long room, or, rather, hall; the door at each end was opened wide. From where he stood, Ahmed could see through the op- posite doorway, in the distance, a tiny temple, a blue lake, and part of a dark bamboo thicket. Before the boy could quite make up his mind to brave the ayah's anger, she looked up, and warningly raised her dusky finger. So he went on, his bare feet making no sound on the veranda floor. Presently he reached a small apartment with a ham- mock swung in one corner under a shelf decorated with rifles, pistols, a pair of foils, and a cartridge-belt. But none of these possessed the smallest attraction for Ah- med. He was searching for something he had that morning spied through the window. " It is mine," he muttered, as his hand touched the smooth surface of his little fife, a piccolo. " Old Golab had no right to take it from me." He thrust the small musical instrument under his gown 'IT IS MINE, HE MUTTERED, AS HIS HAND TOUCHED THE SMOOTH SURFACE OF A PICCOLo" 82 TIGER STORIES and darted awa)', fleet-footed as an antelope. Around the corner of the bungalow he hurried; throu;;h the garden, past the lotus-covered fountain with an empty water-jar upturned beside it; then, vaulting;- over a low brick wall, he sped along the rough cart-road leading to the mango-grove. As he came in sight of the ruined temple, he hesitated, for he thought he detected a nun'c- ment in the dense shadow at the base. It might be the Burra Sahib — the master — and the hunters coming home. That morning they had left the plantation, armed to the teeth, and had gone into the thicket after the great man-eating tiger which had been seen prowling around — the same beast, it was thought, which had seized a child of one of the natives as it lay asleep in the shade near a hut. Ahmed knew that if the master returned he would be wanted at once; so, seating himself on a fallen tree, he watched the spot. As he did so he passed his hand caressingly over the polished surface of the piccolo. " Yes, it is mine," he muttered again. " No one has a right to take it from me ; for my Chota Sahib gave it to me when he went away." Then Ahmed recalled how kind this young Englishman had been to him, and how much pains he had taken to teach him to bring music from the little flute in his hand. THE ARMS OF AHMED 83 Every one upon the plantation disliked the sound of its high, shrill tones. Even the dogs howled in chorus if he so much as placed it to his lips. So he and the young Englishman used to retire to this very mango- grove and practise together by the hour. And Ahmed thought no sound could quite equal the beauty of the piccolo's clear notes. One day at lunch (called tiffin in India), while he waited at table, a gentle- man told a story of how the effect of various musical sounds had been tried upon the animals in the Zoological Gardens in London. He said that while the tones of the violin had been received with signs of pleasure by the four-footed audience, the piccolo was universally de- tested, even the majestic lion and the fierce Bengal tiger being cowed and terrified by its piercing notes. This story had grieved Ahmed. He was somewhat comforted, however, when his friend and teacher had explained to him that the animals' dislike and fear of the instrument was no doubt caused by the effect of the high and rapid vibrations of sound produced by it on their extremely sensitive organs of hearing. After the young EngHshman left India, Ahmed had ventured to try a few notes of his beloved piccolo to amuse his darling Percy; but Golab had snatched it from his hand and hid it. That was two weeks before; and though he had since searched for it everywhere, it was 84 TIGER STORIES only this morning that Ahmed had discovered its where- abouts. And now that it was once more in his posses- sion, he determined to retain it thereafter. Ahmed held the piccolo to his lips and tried all its stops softly, as he watched the distant bamboo thicket looming up against the level sky-line. Nothing was stirring there now, and Ahmed had just time to decide that it was safe to proceed, when — some- thing stole across the cart-road before him, and with a stealthy movement slunk into a field of sugar-cane stand- ing between him and his master's dwelling. The boy's breath came and went in gasps ; for though the glimpse was but momentary, he had recognized the tawny, dark-striped coat of the dreaded tiger, the fear- ful man-eater. To save himself was Ahmed's first thought; but in- stantly he remembered the bungalow, with not a man about to protect the women and the children; and then suddenly the boy thought of dear, innocent, helpless little Percy lying in his cradle, a tempting morsel for the savage beast. If Ahmed could only reach the house before the ar- rival of the crawling creature— in time to close the doors — the tiger might not enter, and the baby might be saved ! With trembling limbs and chattering teeth, Ahmed THE ARMS OF AHMED 85 skirted the tall, golden stalks of sugar-cane, and, with a step almost as noiseless as the tiger's own, reached the brick wall of the garden. As he prepared to mount it, he saw that the tiger was there before him. It stood by the basin of the fountain upon which the great lotus- blossoms rested, greedily lapping the water. As Ah- med's hand touched the wall, the animal drew in its breath and flattened its fur, as though to reduce its size as far as possible, and crouching to the earth, slunk beneath the heavy foliage. Instead of scaling the wall, the boy bent low and hur- ried on until he reached a small iron gate opening into the garden. Nothing obstructed his view of the bunga- low, for the flowering shrubs and shade-trees all were on the other side. So he ran on toward the hall where only a few moments ago he had seen little Percy. On the threshold he stumbled over the prostrate form of Golab the ayah. She lay face downward, too fright- ened to move. His eyes took in the interior of the room at one glance, and ever afterward the scene remained impressed upon his memory: the white cradle, the rosy occupant kneeling among the pillows, his hands resting on the rail, and his face, which wore a half-pleased, half-curi- ous expression, turned expectantly toward the opposite door. The open portal framed the evening sky, glowing 86 TIGER STORIES and golden ; and low down on the veranda floor crouched the dark form of the tiger, motionless save for the wav- ing of its tail. Ahmed was afraid, and he knew he was afraid; but the sight of his darling's danger banished every thought of self, and with that disdain of life which in supreme moments marks the Indian native, he stepped over the body of Golab and planted himself between the baby and the savage beast. The tiger raised its head, and its eyes glittered with rage; then with lowered head it again seemed to mea- sure the distance that lay between itself and the boy. " He will strike me from his path and seize my pre- cious one ! " thought Ahmed, in horror. There was no means of defense within reach, and Ahmed dared not stir one inch from his place. He clutched firmly the slender piccolo, which he still retained in his hand. As he grasped this ineffectual weapon, and the animal crawled a few inches nearer, he felt the stops of the instrument press against his palm. Then sud- denly the conversation he had listened to some weeks ago came into his mind. " Perhaps it was true," thought Ahmed ; " and at the worst I can but die ! " Then he whispered, " Lie still, Percy Baba ! " and with a swift movement raised the piccolo to his lips. THE ARMS OF AHMED 89 The first wild notes which came from the instru- ment were hke the shriek of agony. The crouching tiger started erect. Uttering a cry of rage at the next sound, it shook its great head, and the bristhng hairs on the sides of its face stood out Hke brushes. Then it moved backward a step, as if astonished and terrified. Noting this retreat, Ahmed stepped cautiously for- ward. Involuntarily his lips and fingers formed the notes of a wild native air. As he glided forward the great man-eating tiger drew ever backward; and so, with his dark eyes fixed on the big glistening orbs of the beast, Ahmed bravely followed, while the piccolo wailed and screamed forth the mournful music. On went the strange pair, neither turning to the right or l^ft, or removing his gaze from the other's eyes ; down the gravel walk, out through the gate, along the edge of the waving sugar-cane, over the rough cart-road- Ahmed advancing and timing his steps to the slow, back- ward crawling of the fascinated brute. They had reached the fallen tree, and the mango- grove was just beyond. Now Ahmed's breath came in gasps; his lips were glued to the piccolo, they were so dry. He felt that in a few seconds he must pause, and he knew right well that at that moment the tiger would spring upon him. " But I have saved the little one— I have saved Percy 90 TIGER STORIES Baba ! " he thought, as he made a last and ineffectual attempt to draw forth another note. Ahmed's hands fell to his sides, and he stood waiting, numb and cold with fear of the coming attack. The tiger paused in its backward crawl, crouched low, and crept toward the boy again, with quivering haunches, blazing eyes, and bristling hair. Already its hind legs were braced for the spring, when — " Ping! ping ! ping ! " Three tiny spurts of flame darted from the bushes behind, and the tiger rolled over on its back, limp and lifeless. The next moment Ahmed was surrounded by the three skilful hunters who had that morning gone in search of the dreaded monster now lying harmless at the feet of the fainting boy. One of the hunters carried Ahmed home to the bunga- low, taking the boy on his back, for Ahmed was for some little time too unstrung to walk. It was Golab the ayah who, seated upon the floor weep- ing and wringing her hands in excitement, told the whole story: how she had been singing the baby to rest, and, glancing up, was horrified to see a pair of blazing eyes watching her; how she knew no more until the piccolo aroused her. Then she described minutely all that fol- lowed the coming of Ahmed. From that day Ahmed was a privileged character. 'THEV HAD REACHED THE !■ ALLEN TREi:, A>D THE ^LA.XGO-GRO\ E WAS JUST BEM/.ND" THE ARMS OF AHMED 93 His piccolo might have been played in every corner of the place. No one — least of all old Golab — ever thought of denying him anything. The poor woman could never do half enough to repay the boy for rescuing her dear little charge from the dreadful man-eating tiger, whose skin now^ lay under Ahmed's hammock, and whose teeth, strung upon a golden cord, ornamented his breast as a trophy justly won by his courage and presence of mind. THE TIGER A Tiger Talei'# fu^'i^'- BY JOHN BENNETT THERE was an ancient Grecian l3oy Who played upon tlie iiddle, Sometimes high, sometimes low, Sometimes in the middle; y\nd all day long beneath the shade He lunched on prunes and marmalade ; But what the tunes were which he played Is certainly a riddle. 94 A TIGER TALE Three tigers, gaunt and ravenous. Came from the gloomy wood, Intent to slay the fiddler, But his music was too good ; So round about him once they filed, Till, by the melody beguiled. They sat them softly down and smiled, As only tigers could. And thus beguiled, those tigers smiled Throughout the livelong day Until, at length, there was not left Another tune to play. 95 96 TIGER STORIES What happened then I do not know : I was not there to see. But when a man runs short on tunes. Can tigers be appeased with prunes, Or marmalade and silver spoons ? That 's what perplexes me. AN ODD STREET SHOW BY DR. EUGENE MURRAY-AARON THE picture on page loi, from a sketch made on the streets of a town in the province of Bengal, shows a method somewhat unusual, even in that country, by which a tiger may be put on public exhibition. In- stead of being confined in a zoo or menagerie, where the people are required to visit him and pay a regular price of admission, the tiger is carried around in the towns, where everybody can see him and pay or not, as they please. The native owner collects the small coins that people choose to pay, while his assistant attends to the team. This tiger was captured when a cub, and when he was half grown or more, a strap of heavy leather was fas- tened around his neck and another around his flanks. For greater security these two straps are connected by a lighter one— not shown in the picture — running along the animal's back. Firmly attached to the neck-strap, or yoke, are two stout iron chains, fastened to the op- 99 loo TIGER STORIES posite ends of the platform-frame. Straps could not safely take the place of these front chains, for the tiger's sharp teeth would soon gnaw through the leather and set him at liberty. To the hinder strap, or belt, are fastened two straps, each firmly looped to the platform- frame. Thus the powerful beast is firmly held captive, and at the same time is left sufficiently free in his mo- tions to stand or crouch. The platform is framed on two long, stout bamboo poles, which serve also as shafts for the small Indian ox which drags the cart. An ox not thoroughly trained would be in mortal terror of his load. The platform is mounted on two rough, heavy cart wheels such as are used in India, and the outfit is complete. We can imagine the timid curiosity with which the women and especially the children in the streets of a town, or along a country road, would gaze at their strange visitor. They have heard many a story of the slaying of human beings by the dreaded "man-eater" of the jungle, and perhaps one of their own number has fallen a victim. The man-eater is usually an old tiger, whose strength is failing, and whose teeth have partly lost their sharpness. Such a beast finds it easier to lurk in the vicinity of settlements, and to pick up an occasional man, woman, or child, than to run down wild cattle. The largest, fiercest, and most brightly colored tigers AN ODD STREET SHOW 103 are found in the province of Bengal, near the mouths of the Ganges River, and not far from Calcutta. A full- grown Bengal tiger sometimes measures ten feet from nose to tip of tail. Such a monster makes no more ac- count of springing upon a man than a cat does of seizing a mouse. He surpasses the lion in strength and ferocity, and has no rival among beasts of prey except the grizzly bear and the recently discovered giant bear of Alaska. THE MOST UNWELCOME VISITOR TSANG TSAN AND THE MAN-EATER BY JOHN R. CORYELL NOW, my son," said Tsang Tsan's father, one morn- ing, "be sure you take the path across the fields. It 's the longest way, but it 's the safest." "Yes, sir," replied Tsang, dutifully. " And try not to fall asleep on the way," added his eldest brother, gravely ; " for the cows would be sure then to go by the grove, because that is the way they usually go." " I '11 keep awake," said Tsang, a little impatiently, but respectfully, too, for in China the eldest brother is held next to the parents in consideration. Tsang was then lifted up and placed astride one of the cows, which at once started off at a leisurely pace, followed by its fellows in straggling but solemn order. There was a short struggle at the path which turned toward the distant grove, but after a few sharp blows with his switch, and a few vigorous pulls at the thong fastened in the nose-ring, Tsang came off victorious and made his cow take the new path. The other cows, after 105 io6 TIGER STORIES a few moments of surprised indecision, followed the one which Tsang was riding. Little Tsang's cows were not the comely, mild-eyed creatures we see in our country; they were water-buffalo cows, with very large bodies, small, fierce red eyes, long, semicircular flat horns, and almost hairless, dirty- gray-colored hides. Each had a ring in its nose, and a tough thong was tied to the ring and wound about the horns of all but the cow ridden by Tsang. But for the nose-ring and thong the buffaloes would have been un- manageable, for they are as different in temper as in looks from our gentle cows. A very odd picture Tsang made as he sat astride of the buffalo, for its back was so broad that the little boy's legs were almost at right angles with his body. But he could readily change his position and sit with both feet on one side. It required no great skill to ride the broad- backed, slow-moving creature, and Tsang was so ac- customed to it that he gave no more thought to himself than if he had been in a chair. And practice had made him expert at riding the buffaloes. So secure was he, in fact, that he acted more as if he were on the ground than on buffalo-back, and the elder brother's warning was not at all unnecessary, for it was no unusual thing for Tsang to compensate himself for rising at daybreak by half reclining upon the buffalo's TSANG TSAN AND THE MAN-EATER 107 back and taking little naps, as often as the animal stood still. This morning, however, he took measures to drive away drowsiness, as he had no desire to be carried through the grove where a most unwelcome visitor was supposed to be lurking. It was very seldom that tigers were seen in that part of China, but occasionally they had been seen, and now, for the first time in Tsang's short life, one had come into the neighborhood. For two weeks it had spread terror through the sur- rounding country, not merely by giving occasional glimpses of its great striped body, but by carrying off two children and a man; for, unfortunately, it was a man-eater, and would have no other food when the human kind was available. All of the terrible creature's depredations had been in or near the grove, and, there- fore, for more than a week that vicinity had been de- serted by those who lived there, and avoided by those who did not. It was not strange, then, that Tsang's father wished him to go by the longer but safer road. He would even have kept Tsang at home if he had been able to afford it; but he was not, and he needed all the money that could be earned by his buffaloes in the work at Farmer Yu's rice-fields, where they helped in the plowing and irrigating. io8 TIGER STORIES Tsang himself was not particularly afraid of the tiger. This was not because Tsang was brave, but because he was a boy. He had not yet seen the tiger, nor had any of his friends, and consequently it was not very real to him ; and, unless it was real, how could he be afraid of it? During the two hours' ride to Farmer Yu's, Tsang amused himself by practising on a rude bamboo flute, trying to catch some of the airs most familiar to him, and succeeding so poorly that it was well he had no other hearers than the dull bufi:aloes. It was a wonder that even they bore it as patiently as they did, though Tsang was fully convinced that he was making exceedingly sweet music. Tsang stayed all day at Farmer Yu's; and while the buffaloes were plodding wearily around the short circle, pumping water from the canal into the rice-fields so as to cover the seeds with water, the farm-hands talked of nothing but the tiger, — how monstrous and how fierce he was, and how a whole company of soldiers had been ordered to come and kill him. One of the hands told how he had been near when the man was seized and carried off by the tiger, as a cat might carry off a mouse. He said the tiger was as big as six dogs, was covered with black and yellow stripes, and had a mouth so big that it could hold— well, it could take in Tsang's head. Whereupon little Tsang shud- TSANG TSAN AND THE MAN-EATER 109 dered from head to foot, and uneasily wished the man had thought of some other way of describing the terrible mouth. But the man, who saw what an effect he had produced, went on adding to Tsang's discomfort by telling of the tiger's long white teeth and terrible roar, until Tsang began to look forward with dread to the approach of night, when he would be obliged to go home again. "He never leaves the grove, does he?" faltered Tsang. "At first he did n't," said the man who had been de- scribing the tiger; " but since everybody has kept away from the grove for so long, he must have become very hungry, and there 's no knowing where he may be now." " Nonsense ! " exclaimed Farmer Yu, sharply, for he saw how frightened Tsang was. " The tiger won't leave the grove; so have no fear, my boy." But Tsang did have fear, and tried to find somebody who lived in the direction of his home, when, after the evening meal, he gathered his buffaloes together. No- body was going his way, however, and it was with very different feelings from those he had had in the morning that he mounted his slow-moving animal and started for home, by the road over which he had come. There was very little probability that he would fall asleep now, for his mind was full of visions of gaping no TIGER STORIES mouths, bristling with gleaming white teeth; and, do what he would, he could not help comparing the opening between the dreadful jaws with the size of his head. And behind every clump of bushes he fancied he saw black and yellow stripes. The farther he got from Farmer Yu's, the more real his fancies seemed to him, until, at last, he was in such a tremor of fear that every note he blew on his flute was a tremolo ; for, as American boys keep up their courage in lonely places at dusk by whistling, so Tsang was try- ing to cheer himself by playing on his flute. A final wail- ing, quavering note so worked upon his nerves, however, that with a sob and a shudder he thrust the unlucky instrument into his belt and clambered to his feet on the biilTalo's back, the better to look about him; as if he ex- pected to find that the wail from his flute had, in reality, come from the tiger, concealed not far away. He could see nothing, however, and, after a few mo- ments, resumed his sitting posture. Never before had Tsang examined the landscape so carefully, or been so anxious to reach home. He whipped and worried his buffalo to make it move more quickly ; but the tired ani- mal not only refused to quicken its movements, but Tsang thought it even went more slowly. Certainly it resented his goading, for it snorted savagely, and its little red eyes glowed redder still. Tsang, however, cared nothing for its anger, nor for 112 TIGER STORIES the fact that all the other cows seemed to sympathize with it. He thought only of the tiger, and its mouth, and teeth, and stripes, and he raised his whip to strike again, when his eye was caught by a slight waving in a clump of tall grass, a short distance ahead of him. Here was something real, at last. Tsang stared wildly at the spot, and held his breath from fear. In his imagi- nation he was already half devoured. A half-choked scream broke from his lips, and he frantically pulled at the thong to turn his bufifalo around. But the buffalo, too, had seen the waving grass, for it tossed its head with a half-snort, half-bellow, and stood pawing the earth, totally disregarding Tsang's efforts to turn it. The other cows followed its example, and all had their eyes fixed on the clump of grass. Poor Tsang! He had nothing but voice left now, — all his strength was gone, — and he could only scream. That, however, he did, and right lustily too, until the grass waved suddenly with more violence and out from it shot the very striped creature of Tsang's imagination. That spectacle froze Tsang's voice, and left him with open mouth and staring eyes. Then there was a rush, a cloud of dust, and a horrible mingling of hoarse bellows and loud, cat-like yells. Where was Tsang? He did not know. He was not on the buffalo; he was somewhere — he was waiting. His TSANG TSAN AND THE MAN-EATER 113 eyes were shut tight, but his ears were open and rang with the terrible sounds that filled the air. He thought that he felt the hot breath of the tiger on his face— and then consciousness left him. A little later, a small boy sat in the dust, staring about him; a half-dozen buffaloes were grazing in the ditch, and a great bulk of yellow and black stripes lay near. The small boy was Tsang. He was not a bit dead; he was not hurt, nor even scratched ; and, in fact, nothing at all was wrong with him. The buffaloes were his, and the huge yellow and black object was his — if he wanted it. It was what was left of the tiger, which, in looking for one thing, had found another. Instead of small boy it had found buffalo, and the buffalo had treated the tiger as the tiger had intended to treat the small boy — had killed it. Tsang was very much astonished to find himself alive. How it had all happened, he did not know. He could not comprehend that his excited imagination had made him feel the breath of the tiger, and therefore he was firmly convinced that he had been in the very clutch of that creature. That was the story he told at home, and that was what they all believed. What was left of the tiger-skin was saved, and the possession of it made Tsang a hero for the rest of his life. A TERRIBLE GYMNAST BY MRS. M. SHEFFEY PETERS DAVID and Roderick Kingsley were in training for the championship of the Flushington High School Gymnasium. That is to say, David was ; but his cousin Roderick, confident of his superior prowess, was careless of his training, and exercised in the gymnasium hall so irregularly that his special partizans at last called him to account. "If you don't look out. Rod, you '11 miss the prize," said Jack Dinsmore. " Dave is in the gym mornings and evenings, as regular as clock-work. He does n't like to be beaten even at leap-frog, you know, and I tell you, you '11 have to practise if you mean to be captain. Is n't that so, boys ? " The boys thus appealed to echoed Jack's sentiments, and Dennis Moore added : " What you need, Rod, is to learn some new tricks on the bars or the trapeze, so that Dave can't get ahead of you." 114 A TERRIBLE GYMNAST 115 " And here comes the very fellow that can put you up to a thing or two in that line," said Nappy Scruggs, pointing in the direction of the village street. " Quelipeg? That 's so!" said Tommy Hicks, as the boys glanced at the gaunt figure approaching them, and Roderick recalled the injunction of his father to have nothing whatever to do with Quelipeg. But the criticisms of the boys had roused Roderick's determination, and as the objectionable Quelipeg, with his sharp-ribbed terrier, was slouching by, he called out : " Hey, Quelipeg, show us your flying leap and somersault on our trapeze, won't you? " The new-comer, nothing loath, swaggered into the school gymnasium with the crowd of boys, and was soon whirling and turning in what he called the " giant's spring." For Quelipeg was a helper and hanger-on of the circus company which had gone into winter quarters on the outskirts of the village, and he had gained notoriety not only as a scapegrace, but as a daring and excellent gym- nast. So the boys admired and applauded his agility, and then, just in the midst of his remarkable " giant's spring," the door opened and David Kingsley entered. " How did that fellow happen to come in here ? " he asked of Roderick. ii6 TIGER STORIES " We asked him in, that 's how he came," curtly rephed his cousin. " Don't you think Uncle Roderick might object to his being here?" said David, calmly. " You know what he told us about him." " Well, I don't think he 's likely to know anything about it," replied Roderick; "unless — " David finished the sentence. " Unless I tell tales out of school, I suppose you mean." Roderick flushed, but said laughingly, " I say, Dave, if one of the fellows should take lessons from Quelipeg, you and I might give up all hopes of the championship, eh?" "Likely enough," answered David; "but I 'd give up my chance of being captain if I had to owe it to his teaching." " Well, I 'm glad I 'm not so particular as all that," said Roderick, with a contemptuous curl of the lip. "Why, you don't mean to say you 're going to take lessons from him, Rod ? " asked David, quickly. " If you 've any respect for yourself, you '11 keep clear of him. You know that such a scamp is not a fit companion for you." Low as the words were spoken, Quelipeg heard them. He was at David's elbow in an instant. " Take that back," he said threateningly, " or I '11 A TERRIBLE GYMNAST 117 make ye " ; and he threw himself into the regulation box- ing attitude. David faced him quietly. " Thank you," he said coolly, " I do not care to box this afternoon." " Ho, you 're afraid, I see ! " said Quelipeg. There was not a Flushingtonian who did not under- stand the forbearance of David Kingsley as he straight- ened himself and, eying Quelipeg, said: "You heard me say that I did not care to box with you." Quelipeg caught up a piece of chalk from the scoring- board and drew a glistening white circle around the calm-faced lad. " Ef you '11 jest step across that line," he said, " I '11 show you who 's who." David Kingsley took one step forward. In another instant he was across the chalk-line and grappling with his foe. The Flushingtonians were quite as much surprised at the onslaught as was Quelipeg. For David Kingsley was not reckoned among the school fighters, though he was known to be absolutely fearless. The struggle was brief, but determined. David's course of training for the championship stood him in good stead, and almost before the boys could form a ring about the combatants, Quelipeg was flat on his back. ii8 TIGER STORIES The spectators set up a ringing cheer over the victory of their comrade, but David, staggering to his feet, gave his cousin a look full of meaning and passed out of the hall. Roderick, however, paid no heed to his cousin's glance, and, indeed, as if David's exhibition of prowess had but roused him to deeper determination, that very evening he arranged with Quelipeg, who was still chafing over his defeat, to meet him at the circus encampment on the following afternoon to take acrobatic lessons in the great trapeze in the practice hall. Punctually at the time appointed, Roderick arrived at the encampment. But he found Quelipeg in a high state of excitement. Things had gone wrong because of his absence at feeding-time the day before, as many of the company were away giving winter evening exhibitions on their own account, and the force was short-handed. The elephant and the big Bengal tiger, thus delayed in their customary meal, had come in collision ; the elephant had charged on the tiger's cage and overturned it; the tiger, in return, had given a savage scratch to the ele- phant's trunk, and was vicious, red-eyed, and ferocious. Since then the tiger had grown calmer, but was still sul- len, and Quelipeg fed it with trepidation, hoping all the while that the cage was tight. The men had gone to town after feeding the animals, and Quelipeg was left in A TERRIBLE GYMNAST 119 charge, with strict orders to see that nothing was dis- turbed. " Hey, Quelipeg," said Roderick, as he entered the practice hall; " I hope you 're out of the sulks now." Quelipeg scowled. " Out of 'em? Oh, yes," he said, " till my time comes." Roderick laughed. " Nonsense," he said ; " you should n't bear a grudge against Dave. But, I say, show me the Bengal tiger, won't you? " " No, sir," said Quelipeg. " I 've strict orders not to meddle with the beasts." " Oh, pshaw ! " said Roderick, " all the men are gone. Come, take me around and let 's end up with the tiger." Quelipeg assented at last. He did not often have so fine a visitor, and he could not resist the opportunity to play the part of showman. They finished their tour of inspection, and entered the tiger's division as noiselessly as possible. But the beast heard them and was on the alert at once. As they ap- proached, it raised its great head and showed its teeth, growling. Roderick laughed and moved closer. The tiger leaped to its feet, and as the foolish youth flirted his handkerchief at it, the great brute sprang forward, with a savage roar, and shook the iron bars furiously. Quelipeg caught Roderick's arm. " Come away ! " he shouted. " If it smashes those bars we 're lost ! " I20 TIGER STORIES Terrified for once, Roderick obeyed, but when Queli- peg had drawn him into the practice hall and barred the door, the foolhardiness returned. He insisted on un- barring the door and taking another peep at his tiger- ship. Quelipeg, who was putting on his gymnasium suit, begged him to come away. " Pshaw ! Quelipeg," said Roderick, dropping the bar, " I thought you were braver." " I know it 's best not to anger that beast," said Queli- peg, climbing into a trapeze. " So you 'd better let him alone and come and 'tend to business." "All right," said Roderick, leaving the door, and pro- ceeding to don his practice suit. In a moment or two he was ready. " Shall I come up there where you are ? " he asked. Quelipeg made no reply. The face that was looking down upon Roderick suddenly grew white and ashen. His staring eyes were fixed on the door leading to the tiger's cage. " The tiger ! The tiger ! " he cried. Roderick gave one terrified look toward the door. He thought he had latched it, but it was ajar now, and through the crack a pair of fiery eyeballs were blazing. The latch had only partly caught, and was but feebly resisting the tiger's weight. Roderick knew that it could not long hold. A TERRIBLE GYMNAST 121 A cold sweat started from all his pores as, blinded and sick, he heavily drew himself up until he grasped Quelipeg's trapeze. This touch roused Quelipeg, who, as if spellbound, had been watching the deadly persis- tence of the tiger. For an instant he glared at Roderick, as though he would thrust him off to meet his fate. Then a sinister smile distorted his face. " Well," he said in a harsh whisper, " you may have this trapeze. I '11 take the one above ; only don't you come up there, or I '11—" The threat was cut short, and his movement upward accelerated, by the crashing in of the door. The tiger was in the room! Roderick drew himself up into the deserted trapeze, and clung there, watching the beast as it advanced leisurely along the hall, lashing its sides. All too soon the blazing eyes were lifted to him. The creeping, sinuous movement stopped instantly, and the animal crouched as if to spring. Roderick was only a few feet above those cruel jaws. Beneath the roof sat Quelipeg, guarding his perch. Roderick dared not climb to Quelipeg for refuge. A mist came before his eyes; the outlines of his hideous foe were vague ; even the cruel eyes seemed to grow dim and far away, when suddenly he heard a sharp call : " Roderick ! Roderick ! Leap to the trapeze back of you!" 122 TIGER STORIES The command reached the youth's fainting senses. Summoning his suspended energies, he whirled over, giv- ing his swing the pendulum sweep. The tiger was evi- dently nonplussed, and at a loss as to the direction in which to spring. Its brawny neck and shoulders swayed to and fro, following the motions of the young gymnast. But only for a moment. Then it gathered itself to- gether and made its leap into the air ! In the same in- stant, however, Roderick had made a desperate spring, and had caught the other trapeze hanging some distance beyond. So true had been the aim of the tiger that, as the deserted swing whirled back, its bar passed quite under- neath the slender, striped body launched against it. Caught thus in its own toils, the beast, feeling itself borne upward by the impetus of its weight and bound, doubled about the bar, and clutched it with the grasp of despera- tion. Roderick had a keen sense of the ludicrous, and even in the midst of his danger he had an hysterical inclina- tion to laugh at this sight of the royal beast transformed into a swinging gymnast ! But he was conscious of his continued peril, and he was conscious, moreover, that his cousin, David Kings- ley, was bravely periling his own life to save him. To induce Roderick to withdraw from his association with RODERICK HAD MADE A DESPERATE SPRING, AND HAD CAUGHT THE OTHER TRAPEZE " 124 TIGER STORIES Quelipeg, David had followed him to the encampment. A glance through the window had shown him the immi- nent danger of his cousin. It was his voice that had saved him from the tiger's claw. Seizing his oppor- tunity, when the beast was hanging to the trapeze, he darted into the hall, and passed swiftly through it, springing upon the step of an empty cage that stood in an alcove. The tiger was attracted by the slender fig- ure speeding past him, and as the oscillations of the swing slackened, the big cat dropped from the bar, and noiselessly crept toward David. The boy stood still, keep- ing his brave eye on the brute as it drew closer and closer. Presently the creature crouched for a spring. David turned swiftly, and with a bound passed through the entrance into the lion's cage, on the step of which he had been standing. It was the work of a second for the furious beast of prey to leap through the still open door, in pursuit ! Suspended from his trapeze, Roderick saw David en- ter and bound out of sight. Then an awful silence fol- lowed. Oh, could nothing be done to save the noble life whose sacrifice would lie at the door of his own wilful- ness and disobedience ! Animated by a faint hope, Rod- erick descended from the trapeze and courageously ad- vanced toward the alcove. After a step or two, he stopped, transfixed. A TERRIBLE GYMNAST 125 " Roderick ! " at the same instant called a ringing voice that had a note of triumph in it, " can't you help me out of this? I've captured the tiger! But I've captured myself, too ! " Tremulous with joy, Roderick hurried to the cage, through the bars of which, almost alongside of the pro- truding paw of the baffled tiger, David's brave hands were stretched out to him. For his cousin was captured, in truth. The prison-house in which he and the Bengal were captives together had been constructed for the purpose of taming a lion and lioness. In the cage were sliding bars, acting on springs, intended to divide the cage into three compartments. Two of these divisions the lion-tamer had used for the purpose of separating and separately subduing the animals in his care. In the third and smaller chamber he found security for himself when his beasts proved refractory. Hither David had retreated, sliding the panel between himself and his in- satiate pursuer. The beast had followed in hot pursuit, but only to hurl itself with baffled rage against the stout bars shutting it from its prey, and while it was vainly tearing and scratching at the barrier protecting David, the youth had touched the spring controlling the first division-panel, as he had more than once seen the lion-tamer do, and the panel had sprung into place, ef- fectually imprisoning the great brute. A door led out 126 TIGER STORIES from the compartment in which David was confined; but it was locked, and the hon-tamer, QueHpeg said, had the key. Nothing remained, therefore, but for the boys to exercise patience, while Quelipeg, now thoroughly frightened but greatly relieved, made sure that the other animals were safe, and then ran for the lion-tamer. In the meantime the cousins had a long and confiden- tial talk together, while those fiery eyes watched them ceaselessly. There was no contest for the captaincy in the Flush- ington gymnasium that year; but Roderick Kingsley never forgot the lesson he had learned in the contest with that terrible gymnast— the Bengal tiger. WAS HE A COWARD? BY LAURA E. RICHARDS WHAT are you youngsters chattering about ? " The new boy"? What 's the matter with him ? "He's a coward," is he? Come, come! none of that! I don't allow that kind of talk in my tent. I won't have any one called a coward till I know he is one. This boy has been here two days, and he may be worth all the rest of you put together, for aught I know. Now— have you all done your practising? Well, then, you may sit down and rest a bit, and I '11 tell you why I won't have a new boy called a coward. It 's because I called a boy by that name once when he did n't deserve it. Hand me a match, Tom. I can't talk without my pipe. There ! now we 're comfortable. You see, I was brought up in the ring, as you may say. Father was the best bareback rider in the country. I began when I was two years old, as the Elfin Fay, riding on father's shoulder ; liked it, too, and never was fright- ened, mother says, from the very first. By the time I was five I could ride any horse except the kickers, and was 8 127 128 TIGER STORIES about where most of you are in tumbling. So it went on. Well, at fourteen I was as game a little youngster as you could find. There was hardly anything I could n't do, and father was already beginning to talk about my succeeding him in the bareback line, though I took more naturally to tumbling, which was what I seemed built for, you see. But there! I thought I was every one, and all the rest besides. I 'd been praised up, you see, and cheered, and called a little wonder, ever since I was knee-high to a mosquito, and I believed every word, and perhaps a little more, too. Now I 'm coming to my story. A new boy came one day to learn tumbling, just as you all are doing. He was a slim, lanky fellow, with big blue eyes and a white face; looked half starved, and had been, I guess. Well, he was too old for tumbling, or his head was weak, or something was the matter. Anyhow, he could n't tumble any more than a hen could. Said it made him sick. No, you need n't laugh yet, boys; wait a bit. Then father tried him on riding ; but he could n't ride any more than — well, I don't know what to call it. I do believe a fire- shovel could ride better than that boy could. As soon as the horse started he would turn white as a sheet, and in five minutes he 'd be off. I used to stand and watch him and laugh ; and sometimes I would just tip the horse a wink or a whistle, if it was one that knew me, and make WAS HE A COWARD? 129 him cut up, just for fun. One day I did this, and he caught hold of the mane with both hands— he did, as sure as I hve ! and sang out : " Don't ! don't ! I can't bear it ! " " Coward ! " says I. " Look at the coward ! " And he gave me a queer look, and slipped off, and ran away to the stable. Well, father found he was of little use at that, so he set him to feeding the horses ; thought he might groom 'em if he could n't ride 'em. He did pretty well at that, but he was everlastingly hanging round the menagerie, looking at the wild animals. The minute his work was done, he 'd be hanging round the cages, watching first one and then the other. He never spoke to me from the day I called him coward, and seemed to keep away from everybody except old Joe, the elephant-keeper. They were friends, and they used to have long talks together ; but nobody else ever noticed him. One day I had been oif for a holiday. Coming back in the afternoon, I found everybody running about and all in confusion. It was after feeding-time, but I heard an awful yelling and screeching from the animal-tent —the worst noise I ever heard. " What 's the matter? " I asked. " flatter enough ! " said some one. " That new tiger has caught his paw in the rails, and is swearing awful ! and Bill Hunt [that was the Hon and tiger man] fell and broke his leg this afternoon, and nobody will go I30 TIGER STORIES near the cage." I ran into the tent, and there was father and the whole crowd watching the tiger. He was mak- ing an awful time. His paw was stuck fast, and it must have swelled so it hurt him. He yelled and yelled, and dashed himself against the wires so that they actually bent, and you never heard such a noise in your life! They had thrown his supper in, but he would n't touch it, he was in such a raging fury. Father was trying to make old Joe go in. " You used to be a pretty good hand with the old tiger," he was saying. " I '11 give you a twenty-dollar gold piece if you '11 go in there and get that paw out." But old Joe shook his head. " I don't know this one," he said. " And I 'm too old, and I won't do it. What's more," he said, " there's only one person in this show as can do it, as I knows on." Just at that minute some one touched father's arm. He turned round, and there stood that boy, the one we all called the coward. " I '11 do it, sir," says he, quietly. And old Joe says : " Ah, he 's the one ! he '11 do it, sure enough." " He! " says father. " Why, he 's a—" " No, he ain't," says old Joe. " That 's all you know, boss ! There 's more things in this world than riding and tumbling. You let that boy go in ! " Father was so taken aback he could n't say a word: no more could anybody. He just nodded; and then we all held our breath, for the boy walked straight WAS HE A COWARD? 131 up to the cage of that raging beast. " Will ye have Bill's rod? " says old Joe. " No," says he, as unconcerned as if it was a biscuit that was offered him. " I don't want anything." And he opened the cage door and went in. Boys, no one of us who saw that sight will ever forget it to his dying day. The tiger was making such an awful noise himself that he didn't hear the door open; but it shut with a clang, and he turned and saw the boy. He tried to spring, but the paw held him fast, and hurt him all the more; and then— well, if ever a four-footed beast was a raving lunatic with rage, that tiger was. He foamed at the mouth, he yelled, he clawed the air, trying to get at the fellow. It was terrible, I tell you ! The boy stood still for a minute; then suddenly he stepped for- ward and threw up his hand. His eyes turned to blue fire ; his face seemed all alight. " Down ! " he said. The tiger stopped yelling ; his green eyes glared into the blue ones, his ugly teeth clashed together ; but he lay still, al- though trembling and all the while glaring with that kind of lightning look. Very quietly the boy went up to him and laid one hand on his head and the other on the swollen paw. He stood so for a minute, and then — the creature dropped his head and began to whine like a great cat ! I would n't have believed it if I had n't seen it with my own eyes. Very gently the boy went to work on the paw, pressing and pulling and turning it so as to bring WAS HE A COWARD? 133 the flat paw more nearly parallel with the vertical bars of the cage. It makes me cold now to think of it ! But though the great beast yelled now and then with pain, it was a very different kind of yell. It seemed an age, but it might have been a minute and a half, before the paw was drawn out and the tiger was free. " Did he spring? " Not he ! Those blue eyes seemed to go through and through him. He growled, and then whined, and then sank down as if he were tired out, and almost seemed to say " Thank you ! " Quick as a flash the boy picked up the great piece of 'meat and put it before the beast; then, apparently with no desire for haste in leaving the cage, he coolly reached down to shake hands with one of the boys in the troupe who had run up to the cage ; then he turned and walked out as quietly as if he had done nothing at all. Before the rest could open their mouths to cheer, I had run to him and taken his hand. " I called you a coward," I said, loud that so everybody could hear. " I want to say now, before everybody, that I 'm not fit to crack a whip for you. You 're the bravest fellow I ever saw. Hurrah ! " And " Hurrah ! hurrah ! " shouted father and all the rest ; and the tiger looked up from his supper and growled. So, boys, that was the way one coward turned out. His head was weak, you see, or his stomach, or some- 134 TIGER STORIES thing, so that riding made him dizzy: but his spirit — well, his spirit was beyond anything / ever saw. " Who was he ? " Ask who is he ! He 's my partner, the greatest wild-beast tamer that 's been for a genera- tion. Born for it, you see. Can't ride any more than a hen, to-day; but look at him! There he comes now! Ain't that a figure of a man ? Look at his eyes ! What did I tell you about blue fire.? He 's been training those lions we bought last week. Missing Page Missing Page AN ADVENTURE WITH A MAN-EATER BY WALTER CAMPBELL IT is now a good many years ago since I killed the man-eating tiger; but I remember it all as vividly as if it happened yesterday, and as I write, the whole wild scene rises before me — the group of half-clothed natives gloating with eager faces over the corpse of their enemy, the waving palm-trees above, and as for the heat, I can almost feel that! It was far away in southern India, the home of the Royal Bengal tiger, that the adventure took place. You must know, first of all, that the tiger as seen cooped up in a cage at some circus, or in a zoological garden, is very different from the animal as he appears in his native jungle. In the circus he is so " cabined, cribbed, confined " that he is never able properly to stretch his muscles, and the roar with which he greets the keeper who is bringing his food resembles the roar with which he awakens the echoes of the forest as the piping of a tin trumpet resembles the screech of a steam- whistle. It is difficult to describe the roar of a tiger when 137 138 TIGER STORIES he is angry. It is not like the lion's, which is more nearly a " bellow," but perhaps you can realize it when I say that it is as if a thousand tom-cats gave one wild and prolonged meow. Tigers are generally hunted in two ways : one is, shooting from the howdah of a "pad " elephant, which is a comparatively safe method; and the other is to shoot them from a meechaum, or plat- form of boughs fixed in a tree. When the latter method is adopted, a bait, in the form of a bullock, either alive or dead, is generally used to attract the tiger; or else the meechaum is built within range of the place to which the animal is accustomed to come for his morning drink. The latter is perhaps the commoner way, as shooting tigers from the back of an elephant is rather expensive work and only within reach of those who have long purses. It was during the hot weather of 1876 that, in com- pany with a friend who was an officer in one of the native Indian regiments, I went on a shooting expedition for a few days in Travancore, southern India. We were some days' march from any English settlement, and were on our way to pass the night at a native village, said by our guide to be near at hand. We had with us two sowars, or troopers, of my friend's regiment, who acted as shi- karees, or hunters, to beat up the game and make them- selves generally useful in camp. We were not looking AN ADVENTURE WITH A MAN-EATER 139 especially for tigers, but were ready for anything that came ; and we soon arrived at the village where we were to pass the night. What a lovely place it was and how cool and pleasant it seemed to our tired eyes and overheated bodies! It was built on the shore of a small lake, or " tank," and was shaded by groves of palm and cocoanut trees, and altogether there was an aspect of peace about it that was very pleasing. But when we came near, we were considerably astonished to hear none of the usual signs of welcome. Usually, when a European enters a native village, he is saluted by the furious barking of innumer- able curs, and the inhabitants eagerly flock to see the sahib. But now all this was wanting, and everything was as silent as the grave. Not a sign of the inhabi- tants was to be seen, and, as we went from door to door seeking some one, and failed to find a living soul, we thought we had found a city of the dead. We were about to give up our quest, when from one of the huts there crawled a man, bent with age. Slowly he approached with many salaams, and, in reply to our queries as to what had become of the rest of the inhabitants, informed us that they had all forsaken the town on account of a man-eating tiger. He was the only person left, being too old to leave his home. He informed us that the terrible tiger had visited the village three times, and I40 TIGER STORIES each time had borne away a victim. Then the people could endure the danger no longer, and all had fled. " But, oh ! " continued the old man, " all will be right now; the sahibs will slay the tiger, and once more the people can come back to their beautiful village." We agreed to make at least an attempt to kill the tiger, but were considerably handicapped by the lack of a guide who knew the ground where the tiger generally lay. The old man told us, however, that he was momentarily ex- pecting a visit from his grandson, who was to bring him some rice, and that the grandson could fetch some of the villagers to act as guides. Accordingly we de- cided to remain in the village all night, and to start upon the tiger's trail in the morning. Soon after we had encamped, the old man's grand- son appeared. We sent a message by him to the vil- lagers that we were there to slay the tiger, and asked them to send their best hunters, with a bullock to be used for bait. We had our own tent with us, and this we set up on the outskirts of the village. Knowing that there was a man-eater in the neighborhood, it behooved us to keep the closest watch during the night. In order to do this more effectually, we built a big fire and divided the night into watches. One of the sowars had first watch, and we gave him strict orders that he was not to sleep even so much as a wink, for his life depended upon his AN ADVENTURE WITH A MAN-EATER 141 vigilance. A tiger will never hesitate to attack a sleep- ing man, and he crawls up so quietly that the victim has no warning of the crafty animal's attack until the catlike spring is made upon the prey. We ourselves lay down inside the tent, previously, however, covering the sights of our rifles with pieces of white cotton, so that we might have some- thing to guide us if we should have to aim them sud- denly in the dark. It seemed to me that my eyes had hardly been closed for five JN THE JUNGLE 142 TIGER STORIES was startled by the most unearthly shriek I ever heard. It was but one terrifying cry, and then all was silent. But too well I knew what it meant. The sowar on watch had fallen asleep, and the tiger had pounced upon him and carried him oflf to the jungle. We fired our rifles in the direction the brute had taken, not with any hope of hitting, but trusting that the sound of firearms would make the beast drop his victim. We followed him a short distance, and then, seeing how useless it was to continue in the darkness, we returned to camp. Early next morning we found traces of the poor sowar close to the camp. At one place we found his belt, and in an- other his turban. We could not find the body, and the tiger had evidently dragged it into the recesses of the jungle. Soon after, some of the villagers arrived, bring- ing a white calf for a bait. Guided by them, we made our way to a place about a mile away, close by a stream, where they said that they had seen the tiger's tracks, showing that he came there to drink. He was not to be expected until evening; so, after reconnoitering the ground and selecting in a suitable tree a place to build a meechaum, we returned to the village. In the even- ing we returned to the stream, and the first thing we did was to build the meechaum in the tree. We did not intend to shoot the tiger from the tree, but made it only as a place in which to pass the night, until we AN ADVENTURE WITH A MAN-EATER 143 could " stalk " the tiger to the spot where the bait should be placed. Accordingly we tethered the white calf in the middle of a clear space some two or three hundred yards away, and when all preparations were complete we returned to the meechaum. You may be sure not one of us slept a wink that night— we were far too anxious ; and when the very faintest streak of dawn appeared we slid down the tree, and slowly and carefully crept to where the calf was tethered. When we came near, we at first could see nothing of the calf, and thought that the tiger had carried him off bodily; but our eyes were becoming better accustomed to the gloom, and as it was rapidly growing lighter, we soon discerned some- thing white lying on the ground, and every now and then moving a little ; and — yes ! sure enough, there was some- thing else beside it ! In the East daylight comes almost as quickly as does the evening darkness, and it was not long before we could make out the tiger and " the lashing of his tail." He was lying full length on the calf's body, and evidently, since the calf still moved, had not yet killed it. On the other side of the open ground there was a dead tree, and I thought : " Master Tiger, if I can get behind that, you are a dead tiger, and will go to the happy hunting-grounds of Tigerdom." I arranged with my friend that he should stay where he was, to shoot the tiger if he turned in that direction, while I should steal 144 TIGER STORIES over to the dead tree and try to get a shot from there. I arrived at the tree all right, and, slowly taking careful aim at the tiger so that I might hit him right behind the shoulder, I fired. Me- ow-w-w! — what a roar he did give as he sprang into the air! I had hit him hard, and he faced directly toward me, with his eyes glowing like red-hot coals. Then he gave one frantic bound toward where my friend was standing; but it was his last leap, for the short, sharp crack of a rifle rang out, and, with a bullet through his heart, the great man-eater lay dead! Oh, what joy there was among the villagers, who now came running up! Their enemy was dead, and once more they '■> FIRED- could return to their beautiful village. How they danced round him and spat upon him, and called the tiger by all the abusive epithets in the Indian vocabulary! Then they tied the paws to- gether and slung the body on a pole, and we all re- turned in triumph together. i'^^' ^ ffj^A, v^ ^^#; tS'^'Ii! TO* ^P "^*^$. THE WILD-BEAST TAMER BY CLEVELAND MOFFETT THE wild-beast tamer as generally pictured is a mys- terious person who stalks about sternly in high boots and possesses a remarkable power of the eye that makes lions and tigers quail at his look and shrink away. He rules by fear, and the crack of his whip is supposed to bring memories of torturing points and red-hot irons. Such is the story-book lion-tamer, and I may as well say at once that outside of story-books he has small ex- istence. There is scarcely any truth in this theory of hate for hate and conquest by fear. It is no more fear that makes a lion walk on a ball than it is fear that makes a horse pull a wagon. It is habit. The lion is perfectly willing to walk on the ball, and he has reached that mind, not by cruel treatment, but by force of his trainer's pa- tience and kindness and superior intelligence. Of course a wild-beast tamer should have a quick eye and a delicate sense of hearing, so that he may be warned of a sudden spring at him or a rush from behind ; and it is important that he be a sober man, for alcohol breaks 8 147 148 LION AND TIGER STORIES the nerve or gives a false courage worse than folly : but the quality on which he must chiefly rely and which alone can make him a great tamer— not a second-rate bungler — is a genuine fondness for his animals. This does not mean that the animals will necessarily be fond of the tamer ; some will be fond of him, some will be indifferent to him, some will fear and hate him. Nor will the tamer's fondness protect him from fang and claw. We shall see that there is danger always, accident often, but without the fondness there would be greater danger and more frequent accident. A fondness for lions and tigers gives sympathy for them, sympathy gives understand- ing of them, and understanding gives mastery of them, or as much mastery as is possible. What but this fondness would keep a tamer constantly with his animals, not only in the public show (the easiest part), but in the dens, in the treacherous runway, in the strange night hours, in the early morning romp, when no one is looking, when there is no reason for being with them ex- cept the tamer's own joy in it? I do not purpose now to present in detail the methods of taming wild beasts; rather what happens after they are tamed : but I may say that a lion-tamer always begins by spending weeks or months in gaining a new animal's confidence. Day after day he will stand for a long time outside the THE WILD-BEAST TAMER 149 cage, merely looking at the lion, talking to him, impress- ing upon the beast a general familiarity with his voice and person. And each time, as he goes away, he is care- ful to toss in a piece of meat as a pleasant memento of his visit. Later he ventures inside the bars, carrying some sim- ple weapon — a whip, a rod, perhaps a broom, which is more formidable than might be supposed, through the jab of its sharp bristles. One tamer used a common chair with much success against unbroken lions. If the creature came at him, there were the four legs in his face ; and soon the chair came to represent boundless power to that ignorant lion. He feared it and hated it, as was seen on one occasion when the tamer left it in the cage and the lion promptly tore it into splinters. Days may pass before the lion will let his tamer do more than merely stay inside the cage at a distance. Very well; the tamer stays there. He waits hour after hour, week after week, until a time comes when the lion will let him move nearer, will permit the touch of his hand, will come forward for a piece of meat, and at last treat him like a friend, so that finally he may sit there quite at ease, and even read his newspaper, as one man did. Lastly begins the practice of tricks: the lion must spring to a pedestal and be fed ; he must jump from one ISO LION AND TIGER STORIES pedestal to another and be fed, must keep a certain pose and be fed. A bit of meat is always the final argument, and the tamer wins (if he wins at all, for sometimes he fails) by patience and kindness. "There is no use getting angry with a lion," said a well-known tamer to me, " and there is no use in carrying a revolver. If you shoot a lion or injure him with any weapon, it is your loss, for you must buy another lion, and the chances are that he will kill you anyway, if he starts to do it. The thing is to keep him from starting." An instance of the affection felt for wild beasts by their tamers is offered in the case of Madame Bianca, the French tamer, who in the winter of 1900 was with the Bostock Wild Animal Show giving daily exhibitions in Baltimore, where her skill and daring with lions and tigers earned wide admiration. It will be remembered how fire descended suddenly on this menagerie one night and destroyed the animals amid fearful scenes. And in the morning Bianca stood among the ruins and looked upon the charred bodies of her pets. Had she lost her dearest friends, she could scarcely have shown deeper grief. She was in despair, and declared that she would never tame another group; she would leave the show business. And when the menagerie was stocked afresh with lions and tigers Bianca would not go near their cages. These were lions indeed, but not her lions, and r \'\ ■ A ^_i THE WILD-BEAST TAMER 153 she shook her head and mourned for Bowzer, the hand- somest Honess in captivity, and Spitfire, and JuHette, and the black-maned Brutus. Nor could money tempt her. And the outcome was that this most successful woman lion-tamer in the world retired to private life— gave up her career simply because of her grief for these dead animals. This recalls a story that Mr. Bostock told me, show- ing how Bianca's fondness for her lions persisted even in the face of fierce attack. It was in Kansas City, and for some days Spitfire had been working badly, so that on this particular afternoon Bianca had spent two hours in the big exhibition cage trying to get the lioness into good form. But Spitfire remained sullen and refused to do one perfectly easy thing, a jump over a pedestal. "Ask Mr. Bostock to please come here," called Bianca finally, quite at her wits' end, with the performance hour approaching and hers the chief act. To go on with Spit- fire in rebellion would never do, for the spirit of mischief spreads among lions and tigers as among children. Spit- fire must be forced to jump over that pedestal. Mr. Bostock arrived presently, and at once entered the cage, carrying two whips, as is the custom. There is something in this man that impresses animals and tamers alike. It is not only that he is big and strong, and loves his animals, and does not fear them ; that would scarcely 154 LION AND TIGER STORIES account for his extraordinary prestige, which is his rather because he knows hons and tigers as can only a man who has Uterally spent his Ufe with them. From father and grandfather he has inherited precious and unusual lore of the cages. He was born in a menagerie, he married the daughter of a menagerie owner, he sleeps always within a few feet of the dens, he eats with roars of lions in his ears. And his principle is, and always has been, that he will enter any cage at any time if a real need calls him — which has led to many a situation like that created by Spitfire's disobedience. It should be borne in mind that there were many groups in the menagerie at this time, each with its regular tamer; and while Bostock, as owner and di- rector watched over all of them, it often happened that months would pass without his putting foot inside this or that particular cage. And in the present case he was practically a stranger to the four lions and the tiger now ranged around on their pedestals in a semicircle thirty feet in diameter, with big Brutus in the middle and the snarling Spitfire at one end. " Well," said Mr. Bostock, explaining what happened, " I saw that Bianca had made a mistake in handling Spitfire from too great a distance. She had stood about seven feet away, so I stepped three feet closer and lifted one of my whips. There were just two things that Spit- THE WILD-BEAST TAMER 155 fire could do: she could spring at me and have trouble, or she could jump over the pedestal and have no trouble. She growled a little, looked at me, and then she jumped over that pedestal like a lady. "The rest was easy. I put her through some other tricks, circled her around the cage a couple of times, and brought her back to her corner. Then, as she crouched there and snarled at me, I played a tattoo with my whip- handle on the floor just in front of her. It was just a sort of flourish to finish off with, and it was one thing too much ; for in doing this I turned quite away from the rest of the group and made Brutus think that I meant to hurt the lioness. He said to himself : ' Hullo ! Here 's a stranger in our cage taking a whip to Spitfire. I '11 just settle him/ And before I could move he sprang twenty feet off his pedestal, set his fangs in my thigh, and dragged me over to Bianca, as if to prove his gal- lantry. Then the Frenchwoman did a clever thing: she clasped her arms around his big neck, drew his head up, and fired her revolver close to his ear. Of course she fired only a blank cartridge, but it brought Brutus to obedience, for that was Bianca's regular signal in the act for the lions to take their pedestals ; and the habit of his work was so strong in the old fellow that he dropped me and jumped back to his place. " There was n't any more to it except that I lay five 15 6 LION AND TIGER STORIES weeks in bed with my wounds. But this will show you how Bianca loved those lions: she wouldn't let me lift a hand to punish Brutus. Of course I called for irons as soon as I got up, and, wounded or not, I would have taught Mr. Brutus a few things before I left that cage if I could have had my way. But Bianca pleaded for him so hard — why, she actually cried — that I had n't the heart to go against her. She said it was partly my own fault for turning my back, — which was true, — and that Brutus was a good lion and had only tried to de- fend his mate, and a lot more, with tears and teasing, until I let him off, although I knew I could never enter Brutus's cage again after leaving it without showing myself master. That 's always the way with lions : if you once lose the upper hand you can never get it back." In the course of a week at Buffalo, devoted to the study of Mr. Bostock and his menagerie, I observed many little instances of the tamer's affection for his ani- mals. I could see it in the constant fondling of the big cats by Bostock himself, and by Bonavita, his chief tamer, and even by the cage grooms. And no matter how great the crush of Exposition business, there was always time for visiting a sick lioness out in the stable, who would never be better, poor thing, but should have all possible comforts for her last days. And late one afternoon I stood by while Bonavita led a powerful, yel- k \ -'^fFK- ^-^M-- J, kf^^"^' ^-^^ THE WILD-BEAST TAMER 159 low-maned lion into the arena cage and held him, as a mother might hold a suffering child, while the doctor, reaching cautiously through the bars, cut away a growth from the creature's left eye. It is true they used a local anesthetic; but even so, it hurt the lion, and Bonavita's position as he knelt and stroked the big head and spoke soothing words seemed to me as far as possible from secure. Yet it was plain that his only thought was to ease the lion's pain. " I could n't have done that with all my lions," Bona- vita said to me after the operation ; " but this one is spe- cially trained. You know he lets me put my head in his mouth." Bonavita is a handsome, slender man, with dark hair and eyes, quite the type of a Spanish gentleman; and I liked him not only for his mastery of twenty-odd lions, but because he had a gentle manner and was modest about his work. According to Mr. Bostock, Bonavita has but two strong affections: one for his old mother, and one for his lions. Occasionally I could get him aside for a talk, and that was a thing worth doing.. "People ask me such foolish questions about wild beasts," he said one day. " For instance, they want to kriow which would win in a fight, a lion or a tiger. I tell them that is like asking which would win in a fight, an Irishman or a Scotchman. It all depends on the par- i6o LION AND TIGER STORIES ticular tiger you have and the particular lion. Animals are just as different as men : some are good, some bad ; some you can trust and some you can't trust." " Which is the most dangerous lion you have? " I in- quired. " Well," said he, " that 's one of those questions I don't know how to answer. If you ask which lion has been the most dangerous so far, I would say Denver, because he tore my right arm one day so badly that they nearly had to cut it off. Still, I think Ingomar is my most dangerous lion, although he has n't got his teeth in me yet; he's tried, but missed me. It doesn't matter, though, what I think, for it may be one of these lazy, innocent-looking lions that will really kill me. They seem tame as kittens, but you can't tell what 's under- neath. Suppose I turn my back and one of them springs -why, it's all off." Another day he said : " A man gets more confidence every time he faces an angry lion and comes out all right. Finally he gets so sure of his power that he does strange things. I have seen a lion coming at me and have never moved, and the lion has stopped. I have had a lion strike at me and the blow has just grazed my head, and have stood still, with my whip lifted, and the lion has gone off afraid. One day in the ring a lion caught my left arm in his teeth as THE WILD-BEAST TAMER i6i I passed between two pedestals. I did n't pull away, but stamped my foot and cried out, ' Baltimore, what do you mean ? ' The stamp of my foot was the lion's cue to get off the pedestal, and Baltimore loosed his jaws and jumped down. His habit of routine was stronger than his desire to bite me." Again, Bonavita explained that there is some strange virtue in carrying in the left hand a whip which is never used. The tamer strikes with his right-hand whip when it is necessary, but only lifts his left-hand whip and holds it as a menace over the lion. And it is likely, Bonavita thinks, that to .strike with that reserve whip would be to dispel the lion's idea that it is some mysterious force. "You see, lions aren't very intelligent," he said; " they don't understand what men are or what they want. That is our hardest work — to make a lion understand what we want. As soon as he knows that he is expected to sit on a pedestal he is willing enough to do it, especially if he gets some meat ; but it often takes weeks before he comprehends what we are driving at. You can see what slow brains lions have, or tigers either, by watching them fight for a stick or a tin cup. They could n't get more excited over a piece of meat. One of the worst wounds I ever got came from going into a lion's den after an overcoat that he had dragged away from a foolish spec- tator who was poking it at him." 1 62 LION AND TIGER STORIES One day I got Bonavita to tell me about the time when the lion Denver attacked him. It was during a perform- ance at Indianapolis, in the fall of 1900, and the trouble came at the end of the runway where the two circular passages from the cages open on the iron bridge that leads to the show-ring. Bonavita had just driven seven lions into this narrow space, and was waiting for the attendants to open the iron-barred door, when Denver sprang at him and set his teeth in his right arm. This stirred the other lions, and they all turned on Bonavita ; but, fortunately, only two could reach him for the crush of bodies. Here was a tamer in sorest need, for the weight of the lions kept the iron doors from opening and barred out the rescuers. In the audience was wildest panic, and the building resounded with shouts and screams and the roars of angry lions. Women fainted; men rushed forward brandishing revolvers, but dared not shoot; and for a few moments it seemed as if the tamer was doomed. But Bonavita's steady nerve saved him. As Denver opened his jaws to seize a more vital spot, the tamer drove his whip-handle far down into his red throat, and then, with a cudgel passed in to him, beat the brute back. The other lions followed, and this freed the iron door, which the grooms straightway opened, and in a moment the seven lions were leaping toward the ring as if nothing THE WILD-BEAST TAMER 165 had happened. And last of the seven came Denver, driven by Bonavita, white-faced and suffering, but the master now, and greeted with cheers and roars of ap- plause. No one realized how badly he was hurt, for his face gave no sign. He bowed to the audience, cracked his whip, and began the act as usual. As he went on he grew weaker, but stuck to it until he had put the lions through four of their tricks, and then he staggered out of the ring into the arms of the doctors, who found him torn with four ugly wounds which kept him for weeks in the hospital. That, I think, is an instance of the very finest lion-tamer spirit. Whenever I made the round of cages with Mr. Bos- tock I was struck by the fierce behavior of a certain male lion with brown-and-yellow mane, — " Young Wallace " they called him, — who would set up a horrible snarling as soon as we came near, and rush at the bars as if to tear them down. And no matter how great the crowd, his wicked yellow eyes would always follow Bostock, and his deep, purring roar would continue and break into fu- rious barks if the tamer approached the bars. Then his jaws would open and the red muzzle curl back from his tusks, and again and again he would strike the floor with blows that would crush a horse. " Does n't love me, does he?" said Bostock, one day. " What 's the matter with him ? " I asked. 1 66 LION AND TIGER STORIES "Why, nothing; only he's a wild lion— never been tamed, you know; and I took him in the ring one day. He hasn't forgotten it — have you, old boy? Hah!" Bostock stamped his foot suddenly, and Young Wallace crouched back, snarling still, a picture of hatred and fear. " Yes," went on Bostock, " he 's wild enough. You see, after the fire, I had to get animals from pretty much everywhere, and get 'em quick. Did some rapid cabling, I can tell you; and pretty soon there were lions and tigers and leopards and— oh, everything from sacred bulls down to snakes, chasing across the ocean, and more than half of them had been loose in the jungle six months be- fore. It was a case of hustle, and we took what they sent us. Then we had fun breaking 'em in. Ask Madame Morelli. She 's in the hospital now from the claws of that fiend." He pointed to a sleepy-looking jaguar. " Let me tell you how I came to take this wild lion into the ring. I had a press-agent who had been announcing out West what a wonder I was with wild beasts, and how I was n't afraid of anything on legs, and so on. That was all very well while I was in Baltimore; but when I joined my other show after the fire, of course I had to live up to my reputation. And when they got up a trav- eling men's benefit out in Indianapolis and asked me to go on with Young Wallace, why, there was n't anything THE WILD-BEAST TAMER 167 to do but to go on. It was n't quite so funny, though, as it seemed, for I might as well have taken in a lion fresh from the wilds of Africa." Mr. Bostock smiled at the memory. "Well, I did the thing, and got through all right. Young Wallace has n't forgotten what happened to him. I got the best of him by a trick : had a little shelter cage placed inside the big arena cage, and at first I stood in the small one, and let the lion come at me. Oh, you 'd better believe he came ! I thought sure he 'd jump clean over the thing and land on me ; for there was no roof to my cage — only sides of wire netting. He did n't quite do it, though ; and as soon as I saw he was getting sort of rattled I stepped out quick and went at him hard with whip and club. And I drove him all over the ring, and the people went crazy, for he was the maddest lion you ever saw. " That was all right as far as it went, but the people wanted more. They got to be out-and-out bloodthirsty there in Indianapolis. Wanted me to go in the ring with Rajah, that big tiger. See, over here ! Come up. Rajah. Beauty, is n't he? Does n't pay any special attention to me, does he ? Nearly killed me, just the same. Look ! " He lifted his cap and showed ^vide strips of plaster on his head. " The point about Rajah was that he 'd killed one of 1 68 LION AND TIGER STORIES my keepers a couple of weeks before. Poor fellow got in his cage by mistake. And now these Indianapolis folks wanted to see me handle him. Between you and me, this keeper was n't the first man Rajah had killed, and I did n't care much for the job. As for my wife — well, you can imagine how she felt when she heard I was going in with Rajah. " On the morning of the performance I decided to have a rehearsal, and called on a few picked men to help me. I knew by the way he had killed the keeper that Rajah would go at my head if he attacked me at all, so I rigged up a mask of iron wire, and wore this strapped over my head like a little barrel. Then I drove him into the arena and began, while the others looked on anxiously. It 's queer, sir, but that tiger went through his tricks as nicely as you please, back and forth, up on his pedestal and down again, everything just as he used to do in the old days before he went bad. Never balked, never turned on me; just as good as gold. " Soon as I was satisfied I drove him across the bridge and down the runway toward his den. I came about a dozen feet behind him, carrying a long wooden shield, as we generally do in a narrow space. Rajah reached his cage all right, and went in. You see, he could n't go down the runway any farther, for the door opening out- ward barred the passage. Behind that door I had sta- THE TIGER RAJAH KICKED RV TFFE QU \GGA THE WILD-BEAST TAMER 171 tioned a keeper, with orders to dose it as soon as Rajah was inside; but Rajah went in so silently that the keeper did n't know it, the peep-holes in the door being too high for him to see very well. The result was that the cage door stood open for a few seconds after the tiger had gone in. It seems a little thing, but it nearly cost me my life; for when I came up Rajah's head was right back of the open door, and when I reached out my hand to close the door he sprang at me, and in a second had me down, with his teeth in my arm and his claws digging into my head through openings in the mask. " Then you 'd better believe there was a fight in that runway! The keepers rushed in; Bonavita rushed in. They shot at him with revolvers, they jabbed him with irons, they pounded at him with clubs; and one of the blows that Rajah dodged knocked me senseless. Well, they got me out finally. I guess the mask saved my life. But I did n't take Rajah into the ring that evening, and Rajah won't be seen in the ring any more. He 's made trouble enough. Why, the things I could tell you about that tiger would fill a book." Some of these things he did tell me, for I brought the talk back to Rajah whenever the chance offered. I well remember, for instance, the occasion when I heard how Rajah once got out of his cage and chased a quagga— one of those queer little animals that are half zebra and 172 LION AND TIGER STORIES half mule. It was late at night, and we had entered the runway, Mr. Bostock and I, after the performance, for he wanted me to realize the perils of this narrow boarded lane that circles all the dens and leads the lions to the ring. It is indeed a terrifying place — a low, dimly lighted passage, curving constantly, so that you see ahead scarcely twenty feet, and are always turning a slow corner, always peering ahead uneasily and listen- ing! What is that? A soft tread? The glow of green- ish eyeballs? Who can tell when a bolt may slip or a board give way? So many things have happened in these runways ! Of course a lion has no business to be out of his den, but — but suppose he is? Suppose you meet him — now — there! Well, it was here that I heard the story. Bonavita, it appears, was standing on the bridge one morning when there arose a fearful racket in the runway, and looking in he saw the quagga tearing along toward him. He con- cluded that some one had unfastened the door, and was just preparing to check the animal, when around the curve came Rajah in full pursuit. Bonavita stepped back, drew his revolver, and, as the tiger rushed past, fired a blank cartridge, thinking thus to divert him from the quagga. But Rajah paid not the slightest heed, and in long bounds came out into the arena hard after the terrified quadruped, which was galloping now with the THE WILD-BEAST TAMER 173 speed of despair. A keeper who was sweeping clam- bered up the iron sides and anxiously watched the race from the top. Bonavita, powerless to interfere, watched from the bridge. Of all races ever run in a circus this was the most re- markable. It was a race for life, as the quagga knew and the tiger intended. Five times they circled the arena, Rajah gaining always, but never enough for a spring. In the sixth turn, however, he judged the distance right, and straightway a black-and-yellow body shot through the air in true aim at the prey. Whereupon the quagga did the only thing a quagga could do— let out both hind legs in one straight tremendous kick; and they do say that a quagga can kick the eyes out of a fly. At any rate, in this case a pair of nervous little heels caught the descending tiger squarely under the lower jaw, and put him to sleep like a nice little lullaby. And that was the end of it. The quagga trotted back to its cage, Bona- vita put up his revolver, the frightened sweeper climbed down from the bars, and Rajah was hauled back igno- miniously to his den. Here we have three instances showing the extreme importance of little things in a menagerie. A keeper opens door No. 13 instead of door No. 14, and is straight- way killed. A screw is loose in a bolt fastening, and, presto! a tiger is at large. A watcher at a peep-hole 174 LION AND TIGER STORIES looks away for a moment, and a life goes into jeopardy. It is always so ; and I will let Mr. Bostock tell how a little thing gave Rajah his first longing to kill. " It was several years ago," said he, " when I was running a wagon show in England. I remember we were about a mile and a half out of a certain town when this thing happened. For some reason Rajah had been transferred to a bear-wagon, and we ought to have ex- amined it more carefully, for bears are the worst fellows in the world to damage a cage by ripping up the timbers ; it seems as if nothing can resist their claws and teeth. And this particular cage was in such bad shape that Rajah managed to get out of it. I knew something must be wrong when I saw the big elephant-wagon that headed the procession go tearing away with its six horses on a dead run under the driver's lash. No wonder the driver was scared, for he had turned his head and seen the two draft-horses that followed him down on the ground, with Rajah tearing at one of them, and the other one dead. " It was n't a pretty sight when we got there, and it was n't an easy job, either, capturing Rajah. I don't know what we should have done if it had n't been for a long-haired fellow in the show called ' Mustang Ned/ who came up with a coil of rope and lassoed the tiger. Then we tangled him up in netting, and finally got him into one of the shifting cages. But after that he was THE WILD-BEAST TAMER 177 never the same tiger. You would n't think there was a time when Rajah used to ride around the tent on an ele- phant's back, with only a little black boy to guard him ! " " What, outside the iron ring?" " Yes, sir, right among the women and children. He did that twice a day for over a year. Might be doing it yet if the black boy had n't been so careful of his white trousers." " His white trousers?" " That 's right. You see, this boy rode on the elephant, behind Rajah, and he wore long black boots and a fine white suit. Made quite a picture. Only he did n't like to rub his trousers against the tiger, for an animal's back is naturally oily; so he used to put his legs under a lion's skin that Rajah rode on, and tuck it around him. " Well, one day as they were going around, the boy lost his balance and tumbled off the elephant, pulling the lion's skin with him, and of course that pulled Rajah along too. The first thing we knew, there was a big tiger on the ground, and people running about and screaming. "In another minute we'd have had a panic; but by good luck I was there, and caught Rajah quickly around the neck and held him until the others got a rope on him. Then we had a time getting him back on the elephant. First I tried to make him spring up from a high pedestal, but he would n't spring. Next I had them work a ladder 178 LION AND TIGER STORIES under Rajah so that he sat on it; and then, with two men at one end and me at the other, we hfted him slowly level with our shoulders, level with our heads, and just there the tiger gave a vicious growl, and the two men lowered their end. That made him work up toward my end, and in a second I had Rajah's face close to my face and both my hands occupied with the ladder. I could n't do a thing, and the only question was what he would do. He looked at me, looked at the elephant, and then struck out hard and quick, only missing me by a hair; in fact, he did n't miss me entirely, for one of his claws just reached the corner of my eye — see, I have the scar still. But he jumped on the elephant, and we kept the mastery that day. Still, it was bad business, and I saw we could n't take such chances again. That was Rajah's last ride." And now for the last story, although there are endless others that might be told ; it is about a lioness that escaped from a circus train, and I give it in the keeper's words. " We were showing out in Kansas," said he, " and one night a cage fell off a train as we were running along, became unlashed or something, and when we stuck our heads out of the sleeper, there were a pair of greenish, burning eyes coming down the side of the track, and we could hear a ruh-riih-r-r-r-riili — something between a bark and a roar— that didn't cheer us up any, you'd bet- ter believe. Then George Conklin— he was the head imW Iiri': LIONI^.^S WAI^ CAlM-UKIiU UN 'l-|llt UI'EN l'\i THE WILD-BEAST TAMER i8i tamer— yelled: 'By gracious, it's Mary! Come on, boys ; we must get her ! ' and out we went. Mary was a full-grown lioness, and she was loose there in the dark- ness, out on a bare prairie, without a house or a fence anywhere for miles." " Hold on," said I ; " how did your circus train happen to stop when the cage fell off? " With indulgent smile he explained that a circus train running at night always has guards on the watch, who wave quick lanterns to the engineer in any emergency. " Well," continued the man, " George Conklin had that cage fixed up and the lioness safe inside within forty minutes by the clock. Do? Why, it was easy enough. We unrolled about a hundred yards of side-wall tenting, and carried it toward the lioness— a sort of moving fence. And every man carried a flaming kerosene torch. There was a picture to remember : that line of heads over the canvas wall, and the flaring lights gradually circling around the lioness, who backed, growling and switching her tail— backed away from the fire until presently, as we closed in, we had her in the mouth of a funnel of can- vas, with torches everywhere except just at her back, where the open cage was. Then Conklin spoke sharp to her, just as if they were in the ring, and snapped his whip, and the next thing. Miss Mary was safe behind the bars. It was a pretty neat job, I can tell you ! " FIRST CHILD TO SECOND CHILD: "WHICH LION WOULD YOU CHOOSE?" FIRST LION TO SECOND LION I "WHICH CHILD WOULD YOU CHOOSE?" LION SAYINGS The lion has been looked upon as the noblest, the most generous, as well as the strongest of the animals, hence the sayings noble as a lion; generous as a lion; STRONG AS A LION. LION-HEART; LION-HEARTED, One who has great cour- age and generosity. A LION or HE IS A LION when applied to a person means that he is something worth seeing, a celebrity. TO LIONIZE means to treat a person as though he were a celebrity. THERE IS A LION IN THE WAY. A danger to be faced and overcome. It also means a foolish or imaginary dan- ger, or one which cannot possibly exist. The slothful man saith, There is a lion in the way; a lion is in the streets. — Prov. xxvi, 13. TO PUT YOUR HEAD IN THE LION'S MOUTH, to run a great and unnecessary risk; hence f oolhardiness ; false cour- age. 185 1 86 LION SAYINGS THE LION'S SHARE, an cxcessivcly large share; a share out of all proportion to what is deserved or just. This saying comes from the fable of the lion that went hunting in partnership with a wolf and a fox. When they came to divide their prey the lion claimed one third as his rightful share, one third because he was king of beasts, and the last third on general principles, saying, " Let him take it who can." IN ART the lion is the emblem of courage and generosity, and was often carved on the tombs of knights and martyrs to represent these qualities. The lion is the national emblem of England.