Part 12

This beast is very partial to dog meat, and the canine population of countries where panthers abound have an abiding fear of them. Sir Samuel Baker (“The Rifle and Hound in Ceylon”) says that his dog “Smut,” who weighed a hundred and thirty pounds, and was “a cross between a Manilla bloodhound and some big bitch at the Cape,” made a practice of hunting leopards on his own account. This was a very unusual thing, however, since the largest breeds of the East, Poligar dogs and Tibetan mastiffs, would certainly be at a great disadvantage in such an encounter. While the latter was encamped upon the Settite River, an Abyssinian tributary of the White Nile, one of these animals sprang into the midst of a circle of men resting around a watch fire and carried off a dog. To invade a hunters’ camp on this kind of an errand is quite common with the panther, and many exploits of his under such circumstances have been put on record. In India the villanous pariahs that swarm in every village are his constant victims. If one of them goes into the jungle, there is apt to be a momentary scuffle in the dry grass, a stifled yelp, and the dog vanishes. So in rice fields and around cattle camps where the Gwallas build their temporary residences. Principally, however, the panther gets game of this kind from permanent settlements infested with “curs of low degree.” Panthers know them well, and act accordingly. During the night one approaches the outskirts of a village and so far reveals his presence as to show the dogs, who are always prowling about, that some strange animal is near. Now they in turn are well aware of the tricks that panthers play, but on the other hand can by no means resist their ingrained propensity to make a display of courage, which they probably possess in a less degree than any carnivora. As soon as these pariahs discover something that conceals itself, the idea which naturally takes possession of their minds is that this cautious conduct is due to a fear of themselves. The pack instantly darts forward, and stops. These brutes endeavor to get self-encouragement out of absurd antics; they leap, they howl, they ramp and rave, until one of them, more excitable than the rest, so far forgets itself as to approach the intruder too closely. A shadowy form bounds upon it, and all is over.

If panthers were contented to kill these animals only, no reasonable objection to their deeds could be made. Unfortunately this is not the case; sheep, goats, pigs, horses, cattle, and their owners, all are destroyed; and when some casualty more exasperating or tragic than usual occurs, public opprobrium descends upon the hereditary huntsman of the commune with true Asiatic violence and unreason. Is he, the accursed, supported in ease and affluence in order to snore like a swine while people and their property are thus devoured? Oh Ram! Ram! Ram! May the choicest curses light upon him, may he be beset by all devils whatsoever! Then the official, who is wholly blameless, and except by accident cannot hope to do anything against a beast like this, curses the panther, his fate, his fellow-citizens, and himself; after which everybody forgets the matter.

No prudential reflections interfere with a panther’s singleness of purpose when on the prowl. Blood is his object, and blood he intends to have, so the upshot is that he often finds himself at the bottom of a pit shaped like an inverted pyramid that it is impossible to dig out of. What subsequently happens depends upon the demand for wild beasts. If an agent of Jamrach’s has left an order for panthers, or some native ruler signified his will that they be forthcoming immediately, the captive’s life is safe. Men arrive in the morning with something that looks like a magnified crate. It is inverted over the pit’s mouth, earth is thrown in, the floor rises and with it the captive, until the animal is forced into this temporary cage. Bamboo crosspieces are then slipped under and secured, and very shortly he is _en route_. If the destination be a zoölogical park or menagerie, it is said that the beast will live longer and develop physically more completely in captivity than it would in a state of freedom. This is, to say the least, doubtful. Much might be advanced upon the subject, but biological discussions are out of place here, and it is enough to point out the fact that this opinion must be purely arbitrary, since no vital statistics exist from which such a conclusion could be legitimately drawn.

Returning to the subject of traps, they are not always constructed alike. Besides excavations there are enclosures that must be entered intentionally or not at all. These are made by driving palisades deep in the earth, roofing them, and cutting a sliding door in the side. It is connected with the bait by a string in such a manner as to drop when this is touched. Tigers are seldom taken in by these inventions, but the panther is frequently caught, especially if a live animal be placed in the trap. How he reasons upon the unusual circumstances then presented we do not know. Perhaps there is little or no deliberation upon what he ought to do, and the brute merely acts in obedience to its immediate impulses. But if we examine the behavior of panthers that go into villages to kill men, in all instances of this kind the animal’s conduct is marked by a union of skill and daring with cunning and circumspection. What makes him lose his prudence in face of a trap? Except himself, there is not a great cat in Asia that would not be apt to see into this device and keep out of danger. The panther, however, enters the enclosure. Such appears to be a fair statement of facts relating to the brute’s character and habits in this connection, but no attempt is made towards explaining them.

In certain parts of India panthers are netted. That is, nets are hung about ten feet high behind which the hunters stand with spears. It is not _jouer de rigueur_ to use rifles unless these defences are leaped.

In the event of the barrier being bounded over, the result to the huntsmen depends greatly upon the way in which the beast attacks. Some animals of this species have a curious habit, under such circumstances, of trying to kill all their enemies at once. Much the same has been said of tigers. Sir J. E. Alexander (“Expedition into Africa”) speaks of the spotted cats of that country as flying about among a crowd of enemies, striking first at one and then at another. In such a skirmish nobody might be seriously injured. On the other hand, they cannot be counted upon to act in this manner, and if, like Barras’ panther, one singled out a particular man and fastened upon him, nothing, it is likely, could save his life except prompt interference upon the part of his companions.

With regard to its attack upon game, the mode in which this animal takes its prey has been definitely settled in several different ways, as is the case also in respect to the manner in which its prey is eaten. Colonel Pollok (“Sport in British Burmah”) remarks that “there is a peculiar and singular distinction, with regard to the mode of breaking up their prey, between the tiger and the panther, the latter invariably commencing upon the fore quarters or chest.” General Shakespear, nevertheless, came unexpectedly upon a panther that had just killed a cow in the Bootinaut correa, and it was feeding upon one of the hind quarters, “a large piece of which had already been consumed.” Colonel Barras and Captain Forsyth consider the throat to be the part first fastened upon, Baker states that the body is at once torn open to get at the viscera, and Inglis, Leveson, and others explain that panthers suck the blood of their victims before anything else.

Similar dogmatic opinions and exclusive views of the way in which a panther or leopard kills game have been advanced. They are said to break the neck with a blow of their forearm; and also never to do so, not being able in the case of large animals, and with small ones this being unnecessary. Some authorities maintain that the cervical vertebræ are dislocated by twisting the head; others, that the head is bent backward till the neck breaks.

Hon. W. H. Drummond (“Large Game and Natural History of South and Southeast Africa”) says that “leopards and panthers are very numerous in that country.” He likewise apparently regards these varieties as distinct species, and writes about the “_ingwe_” or _Felis leopardus_, the “_N’gulula_” or maned leopard, and _Felis pardus_, the true panther, as if two of these, at least, belonged to different groups.

Strangely enough to anyone acquainted with the characteristics of the Asiatic panther, Drummond asserts that the leopard, which is a comparatively rare animal, is, although of smaller size, the fiercer and more dangerous of the two. He explains that its rarity is more apparent than real, and depends upon the creature’s “nocturnal habits and the thickness of the jungles they lie in,” so that sportsmen only “occasionally come across them by accident.”

It is singular, however, that a hunter who had passed a number of years in a country where they abound, should have been so little impressed by the prowess of a beast which, at least in Central and West Africa, is very destructive to human life. It must be the case that the brute’s character varies somewhat with locality, yet Drummond’s narrative portrays a condition of things under which its native ferocity and aggressive nature should have been developed and not diminished. However this may be, the pale, almost white-skinned panther, whose light color is very conspicuous in its rosette, was plainly regarded by Drummond as a much less formidable foe than its congener of the Indian jungles, or even than its relations which Baker and others found in the northern parts of Africa.

Still, he admits that “common leopards, _i.e._ the two forms locally known under the name of _ingwe_, are much to be dreaded when brought to bay, and that anecdotes innumerable might be related of instances where they have killed or seriously injured both white and black hunters. The virus of their bite is very great. I remember once seeing seven men belonging to a Zulu village awfully torn and mangled by a single animal, and the wounds remained open for a long time, and ultimately left great scars. On the other hand, I know of several who have died where the injuries received were not such as to have been generally fatal.” Sir W. C. Harris mentions it as a peculiarity of the leopard’s attack that it strikes at the face; Drummond says nothing about this trait, and the former author probably fell into some confusion of ideas, caused by the well-known tendency of this species to tear open the great vessels of the throat.

Panthers and leopards are only varieties of the same species, yet while the reputation of the former is such as has been stated, hunters often speak of the latter as if it were nearly harmless so far as human beings are concerned. Leopards are described as having been shot right and left in the jungle, treed by dogs and killed on limbs without difficulty, pelted from the doorways of deserted huts, and speared in the open from the saddle. Leveson, Drummond, and Baker relate experiences of this kind, but the literature of the subject contains many very different accounts of their prowess. Both in Asia and Africa they have often been found to be extremely dangerous and destructive animals. There is good reason why in heraldic blazonry the leopard should be represented as _passant gardant_. The designers did not know it, but the fact is that no animal capable of doing so much harm, and that has as many evil deeds to answer for, is at once so enterprising, so stealthy, and so full of cunning. Compared with him, the greater _Felidæ_, on the one hand, and that much-abused assassin and robber, the fox, upon the other, are “mild-mannered,” and might be called bunglers.

When a tiger--and the same may be said of the lion--attempts to carry out a scheme he has formed for the surprise and murder of some man whose whereabouts he has ascertained, the design is often more complete than the execution. His heavy yet muffled tread is sometimes heard, he breaks dry sticks, rustles as he moves through parched herbage, waves long grass in passing, so that any experienced eye can tell he is there, puts his head out of cover prematurely, is apt to cross open spaces when a circuit ought to be made; again, he cannot keep his tail still, and as the moment approaches for making an end of his victim, anticipation of the pleasure of putting the man to death and devouring him overcomes his caution, and he begins to purr. This is not a loud sound, but it is a very impressive one, and has been frequently heard. But no creature’s senses can give warning of a panther’s or leopard’s approach. Few people ever heard or saw one of these beasts while coming. They steal upon their prey with the silence and certainty of death. Their stalk is the perfection of skill. The attack is rapid and fierce beyond comparison; and afterwards, unless the ground is such as will retain a trail, this animal cannot be followed. It is the most difficult to mark down of all beasts of prey, the hardest to track on account of its many tricks. No kind of game is so often hunted unsuccessfully.

Leopards get the advantage over a being far cleverer than any other forest animal. Monkeys of all species detest tigers, but have an intense dread of the spotted cats. They “swear” at the former, but fly from the latter, and as for men, monkeys deride them. Panthers and leopards catch these creatures in trees, on the ground, by day and by night; while they are on the alert, and in moments when an apparent absence of danger lulls these astute little beasts into a fatal feeling of security.

A cattle-lifting panther, according to Pollok and Forsyth, is more destructive than a tiger. On the great ranges where herds graze during the time when pasture is destroyed by drought in a good part of India, the depredations of these beasts cost the owners dearly, and they likewise take a constant toll from those animals, cows principally, which are kept at villages. A buffalo under ordinary circumstances is safe, even if alone; and when the herd is united to resist, even he with the stripes has not the slightest chance of success.

Cows, however, are the especial prey of panthers. In India these are of comparatively small size, and preternaturally imbecile. The _Bovidæ_ are not a gifted family at their best, and when domestication relieves them to a great extent from the necessity of taking care of themselves, they lose much of the faculty which in wild forms is developed under the stress of necessity. Year after year, and age after age, the panther has been murdering Indian cattle in the same way, and they have never originated the slightest measure of precaution or defence. The full measure of their weakness of mind has been taken by the enemy, and when he concludes to give up hunting, except as a pastime, and live on beef, his prey may be said to come to him.

In 1863 Captain Forsyth hunted panthers on the higher Narbadá, under the auspices of an old shikári, an unspeakable scoundrel, who had killed more of them than anybody else whose exploits the annals of sport with large game perpetuate. Bamanjee (the Brahman) seems to have been exceptionally honest in his dealings with the Captain, and to have given him an opportunity, rarely accorded to the hunters whom he swindled, for making observations upon the habits and character of these beasts. Forsyth relates his experiences in a way that will serve as a summary of what has been already said about _Felis pardus_. “The number of these animals in the districts around Jubbulpúr is very great. The low rocky hills, ... full of hollows and caverns, and overgrown with dense scrubby cover, afford them their favorite retreats; while numbers of antelope and hog deer, goats, sheep, pariah dogs, and pigs supply them with abundant food. A large male panther will kill not very heavy cattle; but as a rule they confine themselves to the smaller animals mentioned. They seldom reside very far from villages, prowling around them at night in search of prey, and retreating to their fastnesses before daybreak. Unlike the tiger, they care little for the neighborhood of water, even in the hot weather, drinking only at night, and generally at a distance from their midday retreat.”

The scourge that a man-eating panther becomes, and those traits which make him worse than either the lion or tiger when he has taken to preying upon human beings, have been already given at some length; the following statements, however, also by Forsyth, place the panther’s enterprise and hardihood before us very vividly:--

“In my early hunting days I fell into the mistake of most sportsmen in supposing that the panther might be hunted on foot with less caution than the tiger. On two or three occasions I nearly paid dearly for the error, and I now believe that the panther is really by far a more dangerous animal to attack. He is, in the first place, much more courageous. For, though he will generally sneak away unobserved as long as he can, if once brought to close quarters he rarely fails to charge with the utmost ferocity, fighting to the very last. He is also much more active than the tiger, making immense springs clear off the ground, which the other seldom does. He can conceal himself in the most wonderful way, his spotted hide blending with the ground, and his lithe, loose form being compressible into an inconceivably small space. Further, he is so much less in depth and stoutness than a tiger, and moves so much quicker, that he is far more difficult to hit in a vital place. He can also climb trees, which the tiger cannot do, except for a small distance up a thick, sloping trunk. A few years ago a panther thus took a sportsman out of a high perch on a tree in the Chindwárá district. And, lastly, his powers of offence are scarcely inferior to those of the tiger himself, and are amply sufficient to be the death of any man he gets hold of. When stationed at Damoh, near Jubbulpúr, with a detachment of my regiment, I shot seven panthers and leopards in less than a month, within a few miles of the station, chiefly by driving them out with beaters; all of them charged that had the power to do so, but the little cherub who watches over ‘griffins’ got us out of it without damage either to myself or the beaters. One of the smaller species [Forsyth means a leopard, which, together with Byth, Jerdon, and other naturalists, he regarded as a true panther of less dimensions than the other variety], really not more than five feet long, I believe, charged me three several times up a bank to the very muzzle of my rifles (of which I luckily had a couple), falling back each time to the shot, but not thinking of trying to escape, and died at last at my feet, with her teeth fixed in the root of a small tree.

“Another jumped on my horse, while passing through some long grass, before it was fired at at all; and after being kicked off, charged my groom and gun-carrier, who barely escaped by fleeing for their lives, leaving my only gun in possession of the leopard. I had to ride to cantonments to get another rifle, and gather together some beaters. When we returned I took up my post on a rock that overlooked the patch of grass, and the beaters had scarcely commenced their noise when the leopard went at them like an arrow. An accident would certainly have happened this time had my shots failed to stop this devil incarnate before she reached them. She had cubs in the grass, which accounted for her fury; but a tigress would have abandoned them to their fate in a similar case. The last I killed was a man-eater, that took up his post among the high crops surrounding a village, and killed and dragged in women and children who ventured out of the place. He was a panther of the largest size, and had been wounded by a shikári from a tree, ... rendering him incapable of killing game. I was a week hunting him, as he was very careful not to show himself when pursued, and at last I shot him in a cow-house into which he had ventured, and killed several head of cattle before the people had courage to shut the door.”

Among other peculiarities, says Forsyth, “their indifference to water makes it extremely difficult to bring them to book; and indeed panthers are far more generally met with by accident than secured by regular hunting. When beating with elephants they are very rarely found, considering their numbers; but they must be very frequently passed at a short distance unobserved, in this kind of hunting. In 1862, I was looking for a tigress and cubs near Khápá on the Lawá River in Bétúl. Their tracks of a few days old led into a deep fissure in the rocky banks of the river, above which I went, leaving the elephant below, and threw in stones from the edge. Some way up I saw a large panther steal out at the head and sneak across the plain. He was out of shot, and I followed on his tracks, which were clear enough for a few hundred yards, till, at the crossing of a small rocky nálá (gulch) they disappeared. I could not make it out, and was returning to the elephant, when I saw the driver making signals. He had followed me up above, and had seen the panther break back along the little nálá which led into the top of the ravine, and re-enter the latter. I then went and placed myself so as to command the top of this ravine, and sent people below to fling in stones; and presently the panther broke again in the same place, this time galloping away openly across the plain. I missed with both barrels of my rifle, but turned him over with a lucky shot from a smooth-bore at more than two hundred yards. I then went up to him on the elephant, and he made feeble attempts to rise and come at me, but he was too far gone to succeed.

“The panther will charge an elephant with the greatest ferocity. In 1863, near Jubbulpúr, a party of us were beating a bamboo cover for pigs, with a view to the sticking thereof (that is to say, riding them down and spearing them from the saddle); my elephant was with the beaters, when a shout from the latter announced that they had stumbled on a panther. They took to trees, and I got on the elephant to turn him out, while the rest exchanged their hog spears for rifles and surrounded the place. She got up before me, bounding away over the low bamboos, and I struck her on the rump with a light breech-loading gun as she disappeared. Several shots from the trees failed to stop her, and she took refuge in a very dense, thorny cover on the banks of a little stream. Twice I passed up and down without seeing the brute, but fired once into a log of wood in mistake for her, and was going along the top of the cover for the third time, when the elephant pointed down the bank with her extended trunk. We threw some stones in, but nothing moved, and at last a peon came up with a huge stone on his head, which he heaved down the bank. Next moment a yellow streak shot from the bushes, and levelling the adventurous peon, like a flash of lightning came at my elephant’s head, but just at the last spring, I broke her back with the breech-loader, and she fell under the elephant’s trunk, tearing at the earth and stones and her own body in her bloody rage.