Part 20

Candor compels the admission that flattering as would have been some tokens of disinterested affection, he never gave any. What he did was to please himself. When he had no desire to be taught, which was often the case, a more stupid, sulky, and unsatisfactory pupil could not be imagined; but when his interest happened to be excited he was quickness itself, and he seldom forgot. One might as well have caressed a stuffed cat, or tried to romp with a dead one, as to have expected any recognition of advances in these directions when Señor Gato felt disposed to contemplation, and if compelled, as of course was the case sometimes, to do anything against his humor, he was not accustomed to leave any doubt about the disgust and anger which possessed him. From first to last, always, and under all circumstances, he like Richard, was “himself alone,” and never stooped to the snobbishness of pretence. Thus it happened that although under fostering care and paternal rule the creature grew in grace continually, he never became fitted to adorn general society. The asperity of his nature easily showed itself; the wild beast broke through the habitual dignity of his demeanor on small provocation. Not even that to him, extraordinary person with whom he was most intimate, and whose resources so powerfully impressed his mind, might pull his ears or twist his tail after he grew up. This was to pass the proper limits of familiarity, and whenever it happened he crouched and glared with glistening fangs. That was all, however; no act of hostility followed.

Gato began to stalk his guardian at an early age, but soon learned that a statue of St. John the Evangelist was not alive, and gave up his practices against the Apostle. He discovered likewise the illusory character of shadows, which at one time were taken to be substantialities, and somehow or other satisfied his mind about his own reflection in a fountain when the wind ruffled its surface. This gave him much concern for a while. Being accustomed to look at himself in a glass, and to stand with his fore-paws on the edge of the basin and see his reflection in still water, what perplexed and excited him was the fact that it sometimes looked as if it moved while he was motionless. Whether he found out about the ripple, nobody knows, but he stopped tearing round the fountain and peering into it to see this thing from different positions.

It was not until he was quite a good-sized animal that the pretence of killing his guardian was given up. As the gravity of age grew upon him, and those engaging pastimes of his childhood gave way before the development of inherent traits, these playful hunts became more rare and finally ceased. Both of us fully understood that this stalking business was nothing but fun. In fact, Gato never fully entered into the spirit of his part or displayed his powers to their greatest advantage, unless he was closely watched. Then, however, his acting was perfect. He got as far off as possible in the long, gallery-like room, fastened his glowing eyes upon the pretended victim, and from first to last showed how complete are the teachings of heredity, both in all that he did and avoided doing. Nothing that could favor his approach was neglected, no mistake was made. The furniture might be differently arranged with design, lights and shadows changed, new places of concealment, from which he could make his mimic attack, constructed; but the animal’s tactics never failed to alter in accordance with these arrangements, and to be the best that circumstances admitted of. There is no doubt that he admired himself greatly, and, so far as it was possible to judge, commendation was very pleasing. He always expected to be complimented and caressed after darting from an ambush which had been reached with much precaution, and he reared up and rubbed his head against his friend, asking for praise as plainly as possible.

This account is not intended to convey any principles of zoöpsychology, but to record special facts relating to an animal whose family the author looks upon as exceptional in respect to their savagery, and who was himself, so far as the closest observation will warrant one in making a sweeping statement about a wild beast, not recognizably different in his characteristics from other members of the race he belonged to, or average individuals of allied species. “_Magnum hereditatis mysterium_” is a truth relating to the _process_ of heredity alone; it has nothing to do with the fact that like produces like, or that traits, from the most generalized to those which are special, are undoubtedly transmitted. Here was a creature developed through immemorial generations into a typical state of body and mind. So far as the result is concerned, it does not make the least difference whether this end was attained in the manner pointed out by Darwin, or Galton, or Weismann. In Gato the whole personality, every faculty and feeling, the functional and structural peculiarities of all his tissues and tissue elements, were stamped with that impress which the entire life of his savage ancestry entailed. On what grounds can it be supposed that such perfectly superficial influences, as were brought to bear upon him while under restraint, produce any radical change? The alteration in demeanor manifested towards one person, and probably effected through that self-interest which, in its general aspect, is exhibited by all the higher animals, did not show that he had been, so to speak, inoculated with civilized sentiments. On the contrary, he gave a flat denial to that opinion every day, and was as essentially a puma, pure and simple, at the hour of his death, as if he had never seen a man.

It would, however, be a singular course of reasoning by which the inference that all pumas were the same was drawn from this statement. Besides the congenital variation that, to conceal our ignorance, we say is involved in the plasticity of life, every organism has certain acquired differences. Life is no more than a state dependent upon continuous adjustments, and it can never exist in an identical degree in separate beings, because neither the conditions themselves, nor the power to fit body or mind to circumstances, is ever the same in different individuals. Evolved structures, functions, and qualities in groups, will be similar; for animals of all kinds must resemble their direct progenitors; but individuality is not extinguished, and as the race rises in capacity, or its members vary from an average, personal traits become salient, and those dissimilarities produced by alterations in the process by which existence is maintained, appear more prominently.

Almost the entire body of emotions which Gato possessed as a beast of prey, as well as his moral and intellectual traits, were beyond the reach of any modifications that could be made artificially. He was morose, cruel, treacherous, and blood-thirsty; but, it does not follow that he was absolutely so, or that, when compared with other pumas, these characteristics of his species were equally pronounced. Observation enables the writer to say that this animal was more intelligent, tractable, responsive, and reliable than any other beast of the same kind with which he ever was brought into close association.

A direct parallel between men, even barbarous men, and brutes will always fail. We do not know enough of the mental organization of either even to apply terms justly; and more than this, the difference between them in developmental states is so great that while the phenomena of both are of the same order, and the language used in describing one is applicable to the other, there are not close enough likenesses between them to make comparisons possible. Those who have attempted to frame psychological schemes, vitiated their work for the most part by a false method, or invalidated the conclusions arrived at, in consequence of preconceptions which biassed the temper in which evidence was examined. Dr. W. L. Lindsay (“Mind in the Lower Animals in Health and Disease”) recognized the relationship between psychical manifestations wherever they took place, yet the influence, as in his case, of this, among many other hypotheses, was almost certain to make itself felt in the manner in which facts were regarded. On the other hand, Professor Prantl (“Reformgedanken zur Logik”) excogitated a metaphysical system for beasts from the standpoint of an assumption that the chasm which separated them from humanity was impassable. He admits their resemblance in essential nature. He agrees that the dissimilarities which they exhibit are results of a difference in evolutionary degree, and then his whole argument goes to show that this is not the case, and that brute mind and human intellect are radically distinct in structure and function. As this analysis of the intelligence in mankind and inferior beings was made without reference to facts, it is not surprising that they should be traversed by these in all directions, and that almost everything which the Professor asserts to be impossible, is well known to naturalists as a matter of actual occurrence.

Gato himself set at naught many of his conclusions. He may not have exhibited either love, gratitude, sense of duty, or that spirit of self-sacrifice which dogs frequently, and other animals sometimes, display, and there was no opportunity for judging of his social instincts; but he certainly possessed the “time sense” that Prantl attributes exclusively to man. His account of periods and seasons was as accurate as possible; he measured intervals and knew when they came to an end. Whether the ability to count beyond three existed, it was impossible to determine. The three copper balls he used to play with were exactly alike, and if one was missing, its absence never failed to be noticed at once. If it occurred to him that it had been taken away intentionally, he got angry or sulky, as the case might be. During one part of his wardship, the periodical absences of his only friend put him out greatly, because, so far as actions revealed the creature’s feelings, they interfered with his comfort. He became dangerous when grown, and occupied a room by himself, from which he was not removed while his guardian was gone. Under ordinary circumstances he was released for several hours every night, and when the time came, if there was any delay, he began to call upon his comrade to let him out, and grew fierce if not attended to. No one ever knew him to take any violent exercise in this apartment, but the gymnastic performances he went through outside were worth seeing. After being confined in solitude a couple of days, which was the length of time his friend generally remained absent, his eagerness to see him back became excessive, according to all reports. He was restless, savage, and sometimes refused to eat on the last evening. The servants said that long before they themselves heard the horse’s tread, it might be known from Gato that his liberator was coming. But he never welcomed him as a dog or horse will do. He was full of exuberant vitality, endowed with an intelligent interest in the strange things around him, which he studied with continued interest, and inspired with an inherited passion for liberty. This always showed itself first. No sooner was the door opened than he darted out, intoxicated with being free, and it was not until nervous tension had been relieved by violent muscular motion, that he bethought himself of other matters.

To sit and watch a man take himself to pieces was pleasing but puzzling. It was evident that boots were part of the body, because his nose told him so. How could they be taken off, and why had these feet their claws behind? A sword and pistol did not perplex his mind, apparently, as much as the foot gear and spurs. The rapier he admired, like all bright objects, but the firearm excited distrust as being, perhaps, capable of going off spontaneously. He knew about revolvers, but placed no confidence in them whatever. Having presided over the strange process of taking off one skin and putting on another, inspected the articles of clothing removed, and assured himself that those assumed had really become part of the incomprehensible being who did these things, he was ready for his own toilet, which was confined to a gentle brushing of the head. This was expected, however, and was suggested if it did not come soon enough. Then he was ready to go to dinner, a pleasing interlude during which his manners were marked with the greatest elegance and discretion. It was not appetite that moved Gato--he had gratified that before; it was the performance itself.

Forks, for instance, those queer talons that were picked up and laid down, excited his curiosity. He examined them, he ate from one with propriety, their glitter attracted him, but he did not understand the rationale of such devices, and their use never failed to fix his attention. Moreover, on occasions when the amenities of social intercourse were in order, he was peaceable enough; not affable by any means, for he never noticed the attendants or appeared to be conscious of their presence. Smoking afforded this observant creature much satisfaction. Smoke itself, if puffed in his face, displeased him, but the preliminaries, striking a match, and the wreaths that floated away and vanished, all this he liked and pondered upon, as he did on certain pictures hung around, and everything that for reasons which can only be guessed at, excited wonder. Professor Prantl lays down the law that a beast cannot think logically; nevertheless, and apart from other facts which refute that decision, it was perfectly plain that Gato solved some problems implying this power. After a course of observations and experiments, it was discovered by him that shadows were not alive because they moved, and then these ceased to be pursued. Much study was requisite to arrive at a conclusion that the sunbeams reflected from a mirror were of the same inanimate nature. This was settled to his satisfaction only after great research. The creature saw this thing done time and again before convincing himself of the resemblance between those luminous shadows and the dark spectra which had formerly deceived him.

Gato grew graver with age, and abandoned many amusements in which he had at one time taken delight. It seemed to his guardian that there was a steady development of his intellect, which showed itself in everything he did. It would be too much to say that he was capable of thinking about his own thoughts, but who shall decide that he was not? With consciousness, memory, and a strong sense of personal identity; filled with innate tendencies, through the medium of which he interpreted external impressions; prone to contemplations that, as his eye and changing attitudes indicated, were not vague, apathetic dreams, no one can know that he did not revive mental states and meditate on centrically initiated ideas.

Personally, and so far as mere individual opinion unsupported by proof goes, the conviction in his friend’s mind is that he did. Often, as with all cats, his brain was torpid. Unconscious cerebration, no doubt, went on, but only dim, transient images floated into the field of consciousness, and fragmentary, isolated, shadow-like pictures of outward things were presented to the “mind’s eye.” It was plain enough when he was in this semi-somnolent condition, and the difference between it and the active exercise of faculty upon something within himself, was unmistakable. He thought, but how, and about what? In his realm of that ideal world so little of which has been explored by man, subjective processes transpired such as we have no clue to and no measure for. The contents of mind, however, must be derivations from experience in a wild beast as much as in a human being. What he had observed, seen, felt, and remembered in that form which his own organization conferred, were manifested characteristically: that is to say, when vivid imaginations excited, or external sense-notices aroused him, the beast of prey awoke at once. The same most likely, or rather, most certainly, must have been true of all mental conditions, but while the animal remained impassive, the fact was indiscernible. When this savage warrior lay before his companion’s arm-chair, and looked straight in his eyes with fixed intensity, calling to mind, perhaps, the things he knew about this man, it was natural that recollections of trainers’ confidences, accounts given by travellers and hunters, one’s own experiences, the many superstitions of civilized and savage peoples, should suggest ideas which had a tendency to color and distort observation upon the part of his _vis-à-vis_.

No one, however, who was not under the influence of a fixed prejudice, could have looked into Gato’s unfaltering orbs and seen there any confirmation of the common belief that brutes such as he are only restrained by fear; or that they have an instinctive sense of reverence and awe in the presence of human beings. All the respect this one felt for his guardian he learned. Besides that, he had superstitions concerning him. In maturity his great size, and reports of the wisdom he had attained to, made the animal famous, so that many persons desired to see him--that is, through the grating at his door. But strangers found no favor with this misanthropist, and he disliked being stared at. Thus, after regarding such intruders with a stern countenance, and taking no notice of his friend under these degrading circumstances, he affected to be unconscious that anybody was there, or else deliberately turned his back upon the visitors. For a time it was supposed that this mark of contempt occurred accidentally. Gato could have had no conception of the significance of this act as it is understood in civilized society, but he did it for reasons of his own, and at length quite evidently on purpose.

As was said, curiosity, which is always indicative of mental development, was an unusually prominent trait in his character. There were numbers of things to which he paid no attention, but when an act attracted his notice and was constantly performed, it appeared to require investigation, and he applied himself to the subject in a manner quite different from that superior air with which ordinary matters were regarded. Books amazed Gato. Nothing could be made out with regard to them by means of scent or sight: they were dead apparently, and not fit to eat. What was in them that never came out? Why should they be watched so closely? This question he never found any satisfactory answer to, and one might see that it often perplexed him. When he was little, reading made him jealous, and he put his paws on the page and invited his friend to play. This mysterious occupation lost its novelty in time, and the desire to romp passed away, but frequently in after days when he observed his companion turn towards the bookcase and get up, he escorted him to the shelves, scrutinized the way in which he looked for a volume, or turned over the leaves of several, and went back to see if anything was at last coming to light about this strange and constant occupation.

Gato resolutely refused to learn English. Why he preferred Spanish, no one knows, but he did, and would only respond to communications made in that tongue. Habit and association had much to do with this, no doubt, but there is reason to think that a distaste for our vernacular was one of the many prejudices which, in a measure, detracted from those qualities which embellished his character. His guardian discoursed to him at length; taught him to do and leave undone numerous things, but had to use the only idiom his pupil chose to acquire any knowledge of. If he were called in English, the perverse creature would not come. He stood and stared like an obstinate child. More than this, if he understood, as no doubt he sometimes did, and even wanted to do what was commanded, but could not, because he had made up his mind never to do anything unless spoken to properly, he got angry. There is no doubt in the writer’s mind that this is a fact, and that the prejudice referred to existed. Force might have been resorted to, of course, but that would have had the effect of deforming his nature after every effort had been made to leave it to its natural expansion, except in so far as its tendencies were prevented from expressing themselves in homicidal acts.

Langworthy, “the lion-tamer,” as the posters called him, used to say that feline beasts, after coming to know one, were infallible physiognomists, but that they had to learn a face before being able to understand its expressions; also that they only read the signs of anger and fear, and never looked for anything else, not caring about approval or kindness, because all the great cats were destitute of affection. Lions, tigers, leopards, and the rest, he believed, scrutinized the countenance chiefly to see if a man were afraid. If so, no assumed look could conceal the fact, and they instantly became dangerous. Privately he scouted the idea that there was any power to overawe animals in one person rather than another, and held that the sole difference between men in this respect depended upon quickness of observation, and especially upon fearlessness.

In the main this squares with what is known of comparative psychology, and of the _Felidæ_ in particular. But like most sweeping assertions upon beasts or men, it is not wholly accurate. Many animals are exceedingly vain, nearly or possibly quite as much so as savage men, and vainer they could not be. Now this trait is inseparable from a desire for praise, and although it is no more necessary to feel any respect or affection for the persons who gratify this longing, than it is to love people because they are able to excite jealousy, creatures with such a disposition will always solicit approbation, and be pleased when it is accorded. Certainly this was the case with Gato, who was fond of display, and delighted in being noticed and admired; who did many things for the express purpose of being praised, and claimed commendation as plainly as if he had been able to speak.

The faces of brutes, similarly with those of human races which differ greatly in appearance from the observer, at first all look alike. But afterwards one begins to discriminate, and finally distinguishes differences between them, and changes in the same individual at different times. While Gato lay by the fountain listening to the wind murmur through the great tamarind boughs that shaded him, heard the water fall, saw the fleecy trade-wind clouds sail slowly overhead, and was evidently neither asleep nor lethargic, but keenly observant of every sight and sound, how easy would it have been to fit his reflections to the scene; “to opine probably and prettily,” as Bacon expresses it, and provide the chained savage with poetic resignation, or indignant sorrow, to make him feel and think in forms as far from reality as the vapors that floated above him were far from being the substantial masses they seemed. Such writings, eloquent and interesting as they often are, do a positive disservice to science. Think, he did: that was to be seen in the eye that softened or grew stern; in its far-away or introverted expression, or quick scrutinizing glance; in the smoothed or corrugated brow, the quivering, contracted, or placid lips; in attitudes indefinably expressive, and variations of his ensemble that cannot be described.