Chapter 13
Mrs Colin Mackenzie[137] records the death of a man from the wounds of a tiger. "The tiger," she says, "was brought in on the second day. He died from the wound he had received. I gave the body to the Dhers in our service, who ate it. The claws and whiskers are greatly prized by the natives as charms. The latter are supposed to give the possessor a certain malignant power over his enemies, for which reason I always take possession of them to prevent our people getting them. The tiger is very commonly worshipped all over India. The women often prostrate themselves before a dead tiger, when sportsmen are bringing it home in triumph; and in a village, near Nagpur, Mr Hislop found a number of rude images, almost like four-legged stools, which, on inquiry, proved to be meant for tigers, who were worshipped as the tutelary deities of the place. I believe a fresh image is added for every tiger that is slain."
LION AND TIGER.
A jolly jack-tar, having strayed into Atkin's show at Bartholomew Fair, to have a look at the wild beasts, was much struck with the sight of a lion and a tiger in the same den. "Why, Jack," said he to a messmate, who was chewing a quid in silent amazement, "I shouldn't wonder if next year they were to carry about _a sailor and a marine living peaceably together_!"--"Ay," said his married companion, "_or a man and wife_."[138]
We may add that we have long regarded it as a vile calumny to two animals to say of a man and wife who quarrel, that they live "a cat and dog life." No two animals are better agreed when kept together. Each knows his own place and keeps it. Hence they live at peace--speaking "generally," as "Mr Artemus Ward" would say of "such an observation."
ANDROCLES AND THE LION.
Addison,[139] in the 139th _Guardian_, has given us the story of Androcles and the Lion. He prefaces it by saying that he has no regard "to what Æsop has said upon the subject, whom," says he, "I look upon to have been a republican, by the unworthy treatment which he often gives to the king of beasts, and whom, if I had time, I could convict of falsehood and forgery in almost every matter of fact which he has related of this generous animal."
Better observation of it, however, from the time of Burchell to that of Livingstone, shows that Æsop's account is on the whole to be relied on, and that the lion is a thorough cat, treacherous, cruel, and, for the most part, with a good deal of the coward in him.
The story of Androcles was related by Aulus Gellius, who extracted it from Dion Cassius. Although likely to be embellished, there is every likelihood of the foundation of the story being true. Addison relates this, "for the sake of my learned reader, who needs go no further in it, if he has read it already:--Androcles was the slave of a noble Roman who was proconsul of Afric. He had been guilty of a fault, for which his master would have put him to death, had not he found an opportunity to escape out of his hands, and fled into the deserts of Numidia. As he was wandering among the barren sands, and almost dead with heat and hunger, he saw a cave in the side of a rock. He went into it, and finding at the farther end of it a place to sit down upon, rested there for some time. At length, to his great surprise, a huge overgrown lion entered at the mouth of the cave, and seeing a man at the upper end of it, immediately made towards him. Androcles gave himself up for gone;[140] but the lion, instead of treating him as he expected, laid his paw upon his lap, and with a complaining kind of voice, fell a licking his hand. Androcles, after having recovered himself a little from the fright he was in, observed the lion's paw to be exceedingly swelled by a large thorn that stuck in it. He immediately pulled it out, and by squeezing the paw very gently made a great deal of corrupt matter run out of it, which, probably freed the lion from the great anguish he had felt some time before. The lion left him upon receiving this good office from him, and soon after returned with a fawn which he had just killed. This he laid down at the feet of his benefactor, and went off again in pursuit of his prey. Androcles, after having sodden the flesh of it by the sun, subsisted upon it until the lion had supplied him with another. He lived many days in this frightful solitude, the lion catering for him with great assiduity. Being tired at length with this savage society, he was resolved to deliver himself up into his master's hands, and suffer the worst effects of his displeasure, rather than be thus driven out from mankind. His master, as was customary for the proconsuls of Africa, was at that time getting together a present of all the largest lions that could be found in the country, in order to send them to Rome, that they might furnish out a show to the Roman people. Upon his poor slave surrendering himself into his hands, he ordered him to be carried away to Rome as soon as the lions were in readiness to be sent, and that for his crime he should be exposed to fight with one of the lions in the amphitheatre, as usual, for the diversion of the people. This was all performed accordingly. Androcles, after such a strange run of fortune, was now in the area of the theatre, amidst thousands of spectators, expecting every moment when his antagonist would come out upon him. At length a huge monstrous lion leaped out from the place where he had been kept hungry for the show. He advanced with great rage towards the man, but on a sudden, after having regarded him a little wistfully, fell to the ground, and crept towards his feet with all the signs of blandishment and caress. Androcles, after a short pause, discovered that it was his old Numidian friend, and immediately renewed his acquaintance with him. Their mutual congratulations were very surprising to the beholders, who, upon hearing an account of the whole matter from Androcles, ordered him to be pardoned, and the lion to be given up into his possession. Androcles returned at Rome the civilities which he had received from him in the deserts of Afric. Dion Cassius says, that he himself saw the man leading the lion about the streets of Rome, the people everywhere gathering about them, and repeating to one another, '_Hic est leo hospes hominis; hic est homo medicus leonis_.' 'This is the lion who was the man's host; this is the man who was the lion's physician.'"
We are glad to repeat this anecdote, although some may call it "stale and old." The last time we were at the Zoological Gardens, in the Regents Park, London, we saw a lion very kindly come and rub itself against the rails of its den, on seeing a turbaned visitor come up, who addressed it. The man had been kind to it on its passage home. It was by no means a tame lion, nor one that its keeper would have ventured to touch.
SIR GEORGE DAVIS AND THE LION
Steele, in the 146th _Guardian_,[141] has followed up a paper by Addison, on the subject of lions, and gives an anecdote sent him, he says, by "a worthy merchant and a friend of mine," who had it in the year 1700 from the gentleman to whom it happened.
"About sixty years ago, when the plague raged at Naples, Sir George Davis, consul there for the English nation, retired to Florence. It happened one day he went out of curiosity to see the great duke's lions. At the farther end, in one of the dens, lay a lion, which the keepers in three years' time could not tame, with all the art and gentle usage imaginable. Sir George no sooner appeared at the grates of the den, but the lion ran to him with all the marks of joy and transport he was capable of expressing. He reared himself up, and licked his hand, which this gentleman put in through the grates. The keeper affrighted, took him by the arm and pulled him away, begging him not to hazard his life by going so near the fiercest creature of that kind that ever entered those dens. However, nothing would satisfy Sir George, notwithstanding all that could be said to dissuade him, but he must go into the den to him. The very instant he entered, the lion threw his paws upon his shoulders, and licked his face, and ran to and fro in the den, fawning and full of joy, like a dog at the sight of his master. After several embraces and salutations exchanged on both sides, they parted very good friends. The rumour of this interview between the lion and the stranger rung immediately through the whole city, and Sir George was very near passing for a saint among the people. The great duke, when he heard of it, sent for Sir George, who waited upon his highness, to the den, and to satisfy his curiosity, gave him the following account of what seemed so strange to the duke and his followers:--
"'A captain of a ship from Barbary gave me this lion when he was a young whelp. I brought him up tame, but when I thought him too large to be suffered to run about the house, I built a den for him in my courtyard; from that time he was never permitted to go loose, except when I brought him within doors to show him to my friends. When he was five years old, in his gamesome tricks, he did some mischief by pawing and playing with people. Having griped a man one day a little too hard, I ordered him to be shot, for fear of incurring the guilt of what might happen; upon this a friend who was then at dinner with me begged him: how he came here I know not.'
Here Sir George Davis ended, and thereupon the Duke of Tuscany assured him that he had the lion from that very friend of his."
CANOVA'S LIONS AND THE CHILD.
The mausoleum of Pope Clement XII., whose name was Rezzonico, is one of the greatest works of Antonio Canova, the celebrated Italian sculptor. It is in St Peter's, at Rome, and was erected in 1792. It is only mentioned here on account of two lions, which were faithfully studied from nature.
His biographer, Mr Memes,[142] tells us that these lions were formed "after long and repeated observation on the habits and forms of the living animals. Wherever they were to be seen Canova constantly visited them, at all hours, and under every variety of circumstances, that he might mark their natural expression in different states of action and of repose, of ferocity or gentleness. One of the keepers was even paid to bring information, lest any favourable opportunity should pass unimproved."
One of these lions is sleeping, while the other, which is under the figure of the personification of religion, couches--but is awake, in attitude of guarding inviolate the approach to the sepulchre, and ready with a tremendous roar to spring upon the intruder.
Canova himself was much pleased with these lions. Mr Memes illustrates their wonderful force and truth by a little anecdote.
"One day, while the author (a frequent employment) stood at some distance admiring from different points of view the tomb of Rezzonico, a woman with a child in her arms advanced to the lion, which appears to be watching. The terrified infant began to scream violently, clinging to the nurse's bosom, and exclaiming, '_Mordera, mamma, mordera!_' (It will bite, mamma; it will bite.) The mother turned to the opposite one, which seems asleep; her charge was instantly pacified; and smiling through tears, extended its little arm to stroke the shaggy head, whispering in subdued accents, as if afraid to awake the monster, '_O come placido! non mordero quello, mamma._' (How gentle! this one will not bite, mother.")
ADMIRAL NAPIER AND THE LION IN THE TOWER.
Admiral Sir Charles Napier, K.C.B., when a boy in his fourteenth year, visited London on his way to join his first ship at Spithead, the _Renown_. His biographer tells us he was staying at the house of a relative, who, "after showing the youngster all the London sights, took him to see the lions at the Tower. Amongst them was one which the keeper represented as being so very tame that, said he, 'you might put your hand into his mouth.' Taking him at his word, the young middy, to the horror of the spectators, thrust his hand into the jaws of the animal, who, no doubt, was taken as much by surprise as the lookers-on. It was a daring feat; but providentially he did not suffer for his temerity."[143] This reminds the biographer of Nelson's feat with the polar bear, and of Charles Napier's (the soldier) bold adventure with an eagle in his boyhood, as related by Sir William Napier in the history of his gallant brother's life.
OLD LADY AND THE BEASTS ON THE MOUND.
When the houses were cleared from the head of the Mound in Edinburgh, a travelling menagerie had set up its caravans on that great earthen bridge, just at the time when George Ferguson, the celebrated Scotch advocate, better known by his justiciary title of Lord Hermand, came up, full of Pittite triumph that the ministry of "all the talents" had fallen. "They are out! they are all out! every mother's son of them!" he shouted. A lady, who heard the words, and perceived his excited condition, imagined that he referred to the wild beasts; and seizing the judge by his arm, exclaimed, "Gude heaven! we shall a' be devoored!"[144]
FOOTNOTES:
[136] "Physics and Physicians: a Medical Sketch-Book," vol. i. p. 174. It was published anonymously in 1839.
[137] "Life in the Mission, the Camp, and the Zenánà; or, Six Years in India," vol. ii. p. 382.
[138] Mark Lemon, "Jest Book," p. 237.
[139] August 20, 1713. Chalmers's edition of "British Essayists," vol. xviii. p. 85.
[140] Up for lost.
[141] August 28, 1713. Chalmers's edition of "British Essayists," vol. xviii p. 116.
[142] "Memoirs of Antonio Canova," by J. S. Memes, A.M. 1825. Pp. 332, 334, 346.
[143] "The Life of Admiral Sir Charles Napier, K.C.B," by Major-General Elers Napier, vol. i. p. 8.
SEALS.
A most intelligent group of creatures, some of which the compiler has watched in Yell Sound, close to Mossbank. He has even seen them once or twice in the Forth, close to the end of the pier. In the Zoological Gardens a specimen of the common seal proved for months a great source of attraction by its mild nature, and its singular form and activity. It soon died, and, had a coroner's jury returned a verdict, it would have been "Death from the hooks swallowed with the fish" daily provided. We have heard seal-fishers describe the great rapidity of the growth of seals in the Arctic seas. They seem in about a fortnight after their birth to attain nearly the size of their mothers. The same has been recorded of the whale order. Both seals and whales have powers of assimilating food and making fat that are unparalleled even by pigs. The intelligence of seals is marvellous. Many who visited the Zoological Gardens in the Regent's Park in May and June 1866 witnessed instances of this in a seal from the South Seas, recently exhibited in London. Persons on the sea-side might readily domesticate these interesting and truly affectionate creatures. Hooker's sea-bear, the species exhibited in London, was at first, so the kind Frenchman told us, very fierce, but soon got reconciled to him, and, when I saw it, great was the mutual attachment. It was a strangely interesting sight to see the great creature walk on its fin-like legs, and clamber up and kiss the genial-bearded French sailor.
DR ADAM CLARKE ON SHETLAND SEALS.
In Shetland, Dr Adam Clarke tells us the popular belief is that the seals, or, as they call them, _selkies_, are fallen spirits, and that it is dangerous to kill any of them, as evil will assuredly happen to him who does. They think that when the blood of a seal touches the water, the sea begins to rise and swell. Those who shoot them notice that gulls appear to watch carefully over them; and Mr Edmonston assured him that he has known a gull scratch, a seal to warn it of his approach. Dr Clarke, in the second of his voyages to Shetland, had a seal on board, which was caught on the Island of Papa. He says:--"It refuses all nourishment; it is very young, and about three feet long; it roars nearly like a calf, but not so loud, and continually crawls about the deck, seeking to get again to sea. As I cannot bear its cries, I intend to return it to the giver. Several of them have been tamed by the Shetlanders, and these will attend their owners to the place where the cows are milked, in order to get a drink. This was the case with one Mr Henry of Burrastow brought up. When it thought proper it would go to sea and forage there, but was sure to return to land, and to its owner. They tell me that it is a creature of considerable sagacity. The young seal mentioned above made his escape over the gangway, and got to sea. I am glad of it; for its plaintive lowing was painful to me. We saw it afterwards making its way to the ocean."[145]
DR EDMONSTON ON SHETLAND SEALS.
Every one familiar with seals is struck with their plaintive, intelligent faces, and any one who has seen the seals from time to time living in the Zoological Gardens must have been pleased with the marks of attention paid by them to their keepers. Dr Edmonston of Balta Sound has published in the "Memoirs of the Wernerian Society"[146] a graphic and valuable paper on the distinctions, history, and hunting of seals in the Shetland Isles. As that gentleman is a native of Unst, and had, when he wrote the Memoir, been for more than twenty years actively engaged in their pursuit, both as an amusement and as a study, we may extract two or three interesting passages.
He remarks (p. 29) on the singular circumstance that so few additions have been made to the list of domestic animals bequeathed to us from remote antiquity, and mentions the practicability of an attempt being made to tame seals; and also says that it is yet to be learned whether they would breed in captivity and remain reclaimed from the wild state. The few instances recorded in books of natural history of tame seals refer to the species called _Phoca vitulina_, but of the processes of rearing and education we have no details. "The trials," continues Dr Edmonston, "I have made on these points have been equally numerous on the great as on the common seal. By far the most interesting one I ever had was a young male of the _barbata_ species: he was taken by myself from a cave when only a few hours old, and in a day or two became as attached as a dog to me. The varied movements and sounds by which he expressed delight at my presence and regret at my absence were most affecting; these sounds were as like as possible to the inarticulate tones of the human voice. I know no animal capable of displaying more affection than he did, and his temper was the gentlest imaginable. I kept him for four or five weeks, feeding him entirely on warm milk from the cow; in my temporary absence butter-milk was given to him, and he died soon after.
"Another was a female, also of the great seal species, which we captured in a cave when about six weeks old, in October 1830. This individual would never allow herself to be handled but by the person who chiefly had the charge of her, yet even she soon became comparatively familiar.
"It was amusing to see how readily she ascended the stairs, which she often did, intent, as it seemed, on examining every room in the house; on showing towards her signs of displeasure and correction, she descended more rapidly and safely than her awkwardness seemed to promise.
"She was fed from the first on fresh fish alone, and grew and fattened considerably. We had her carried down daily in a hand-barrow to the sea-side, where an old excavation admitting the salt water was abundantly roomy and deep for her recreation and our observation. After sporting and diving for some time she would come ashore, and seemed perfectly to understand the use of the barrow. Often she tried to waddle from the house to the water, or from the latter to her apartment, but finding this fatiguing, and seeing preparations by her chairman, she would of her own accord mount her palanquin, and thus be carried as composedly as any Hindoo princess. By degrees we ventured to let her go fairly into the sea, and she regularly returned after a short interval; but one day during a thick fall of snow she was imprudently let off as usual, and, being decoyed some distance out of sight of the shore by some wild ones which happened to be in the bay at the time, she either could not find her way back or voluntarily decamped.
"She was, we understood, killed very shortly after in a neighbouring inlet. We had kept her about six months, and every moment she was becoming more familiar; we had dubbed her Finna, and she seemed to know her name. Every one that saw her was struck with her appearance.
"The smooth face without external ears--the nose slightly aquiline--the large, dark, and beautiful eye which stood the sternest human gaze, gave to the expression of her countenance such dignity and variety that we all agreed that it really was _super_-animal. The Scandinavian Scald, with such a mermaid before him, would find in her eye a metaphor so emphatic that he would have no reason to borrow the favourite oriental image of the gazelles from his Caucasian ancestors.
"This remarkable expressiveness and dignity of aspect of the _Haff-fish_, so superior to all other animals with which the fishermen of Shetland were acquainted, and the human character of his voice, may have procured for him that peculiar respect with which he was regarded by those who lived nearest his domains, and were admitted to most frequent intercourse with him. He was the favourite animal of superstition, and a few tales of him are still current. These, however, are not of much interest or variety, the leading ideas in them being these: That the great seal is a human soul, or a fallen angel in metempsychosis, and that to him who is remarkable for hostility to the phocal race some fatal retribution will ensue. I can easily conceive the feeling of awe with which a fisherman would be impressed when, in the sombre magnificence of some rocky solitude, a great seal suddenly presented himself, for an interview of this kind once occurred to myself.
"I was lying one calm summer day on a rock a little elevated above the water, watching the approach of seals, in a small creek formed by frowning precipices several hundred feet high, near the north point of the Shetland Islands.
"I had patiently waited for two hours, and the scene and the sunshine had thrown me into a kind of reverie, when my companion, who was more awake, arrested my attention. A full-sized female haff-fish was swimming slowly past, within eight yards of my feet, her head askance, and her eyes fixed upon me; the gun, charged with two balls, was immediately pointed. I followed her with the aim for some distance, when she dived without my firing.
"I resolved that this omission should not recur, if she afforded me another opportunity of a shot, which I hardly hoped for, but which actually in a few moments took place. Still I did not fire, until, when at a considerable distance, she was on the eve of diving, and she eluded the shot by springing to a side. Here was really a species of fascination. The wild scene, the near presence and commanding aspect of the splendid animal before me, produced a spellbound impression which, in my sporting experience, I never felt before.
"On reflection, I was delighted that she escaped.
"The younger seals are the more easy to tame, but the more difficult to rear; under a month old they must be fed, and, especially the _barbata_, almost entirely on milk, and that of the cow seems hardly to agree with them.