The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Training of Wild Animals, by Frank Charles Bostock, Edited by Ellen Velvin This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Title: The Training of Wild Animals Author: Frank Charles Bostock Editor: Ellen Velvin Release Date: March 9, 2020 [eBook #61589] Language: English Character set encoding: UTF-8 ***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRAINING OF WILD ANIMALS*** E-text prepared by Charlie Howard and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by Internet Archive (https://archive.org) Note: Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive. See https://archive.org/details/trainingofwildan00bostuoft THE TRAINING OF WILD ANIMALS Frank C Bostock THE TRAINING OF WILD ANIMALS BY FRANK C. BOSTOCK EDITED BY ELLEN VELVIN, F.Z.S. AUTHOR OF “RATAPLAN: A ROGUE ELEPHANT,” ETC. NEW YORK THE CENTURY CO. Copyright, 1903, by THE CENTURY CO. Published July, 1903 PRINTED IN U. S. A. THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO MY SON FRANCIS EDWARD BOSTOCK CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I In Which I Become “The Boy Trainer”—A Lion Hunt in a Sewer 3 II Origin and History of Wild-Animal Training 23 III Housekeeping for Wild Animals 34 IV The Feeding of Snakes and Elephants 61 V Characteristics of Different Animals 76 VI “Going Bad”—Animal Instinct 97 VII How Wild Animals are Captured 109 VIII The Wild Animals’ Kindergarten 120 IX How Wild Animals are Taught Tricks 143 X An Animal Show at Night 166 XI The Principles of Training 182 XII The Animal Trainer—Some Famous Trainers 202 XIII Guarding Against Accidents 226 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE Frank C. Bostock Frontispiece Mr. Bostock and his eight lions 9 *Herman Weedon and his group of lions, tiger, brown, Tibet, and sloth bears, Silesian boarhounds, and hyena 20 *The towering of the kings 26 “The Three Graces” 35 “Denver” and “Cæsar” 41 Mlle. Aurora and her polar bears 48 Lion monarchs in infancy 57 “Brandu,” the snake-charmer 64 M. Johnson and his trained elephant 70 *The old arm-chair 79 Madame Pianka From a photograph by Chickering 85 Mr. Charles Miller and his Bengal tigers 95 Queer friends—camel, lionesses, and dromedary 106 Wild ass, quagga, and zebras 111 *Teaching a lion to ride a tricycle 122 Polar bear used at Pan-American Exposition for drawing children’s carriage 127 Elephants and trainer 137 Trained but not tamed 148 “Depew” 154 *A difficult feat 163 *“Doc” balancing himself on a ball placed on a see-saw 169 *Jaguars, leopards, and panthers 179 *Exchanging confidences 190 The largest number of lions ever grouped 196 *Herman Weedon defying his fiercest lion 205 Captain Jack Bonavita From a photograph by Frank 211 *Madame Morelli and her jaguars, panthers, and leopards 221 “Consul,” the chimpanzee 232 *Captain Bonavita carrying a lion weighing five hundred pounds 238 Mr. Sam Stevenson From a photograph by Frank 247 Polar bears at play 253 ix x B T * From photographs by Hall. EDITOR’S NOTE EFORE editing this book, I took the opportunity offered by Mr. Frank C. Bostock of practically living in one of his animal exhibitions for a few weeks, in order to see things as they were, and not as I had always heard of them. I was allowed to go in and out at all times and all hours; to enter the training-schools whenever I liked; to go behind the runways and cages,—a special privilege given to the trainers only, as a rule,—and to be a spectator of whatever happened to be going on at the time. The thing which interested me most, and to which I paid special attention, was that at no time in this exhibition did I once see the slightest act of cruelty in any way. Each one of the trainers and keepers had pride in his own special animals, and I had many proofs of their kindness and consideration to their charges. The sick animals were most carefully looked after and doctored, and in one case of a lion cub having convulsions, I noticed dim eyes in more than one keeper when the poor little animal was convulsed and racked with suffering. Had I seen the least cruelty or neglect in any way, I need scarcely say nothing would have induced me to edit this book. Ellen Velvin. NEW YORK CITY, June 8th, 1903. PREFACE HE big and little men and women of the jungle have ever fascinated me. As a child, I used often to romp with cubs attached to the traveling menageries of my parents and grandfather. Most of my boyhood, and virtually all of my youth, was passed in the almost daily companionship of wild animals. At no time have these far-traveled aliens failed to interest me. Indeed, I believe the subject engrosses me more to-day than it ever did. No two members of a species are alike. Their individualities are as clearly marked as are ours of the bigger life. I early learned that certain traits of my animal acquaintances were easily to be likened to qualities of real men and women. Longer acquaintance ripened my knowledge and understanding. Many and many a lion and tiger have I known that were quite as mean and untrustworthy as men. Others I met in plenty who would scorn an unfair advantage. Most of them I found to be fair, considerate, friendly, and genuinely affectionate. In time I learned to understand my fellows of the cages, got as close, perhaps, as it is possible for man to get to mute creatures, and enjoyed the assurance that they understood and appreciated me. In my earlier years, I didn’t, I fear, altogether appreciate the good fortune of this companionship; but later, when maturity and reflection illumined my way, I was duly grateful for these friends, and, from being fond of but some, gradually grew to love all. Recognizing as I did with my broadening life the limitations of their knowledge of us, I learned not to blame the slow or the rebellious. At about this period of my career as a trainer and exhibitor, it occurred to me that perhaps I was wrong in being the jailer of these friends; that doubtless their original freedom of forest, desert, and jungle was their right,—one that could not be trespassed upon with honesty. The question of whether I was wrong or right bothered me for a long while, and many an ache I had while wrestling with it. I saw these untamed men and women back in their own; saw them crouching at night in hidden fastnesses, awaiting the coming of prey; saw tragedies of the jungle; recalled too frequent ravages of human life, sometimes from hunger and again through sheer lust. I traced to authentic sources long records of these acquaintances of mine found on their own playgrounds dying and dead from hunger and thirst or the shot of the hunter of sport or gain. I thought, in these reflections, of the horse in his first wild state, of the zebra and the elephant; how these had been reclaimed from truculence with benefit to themselves and humanity. I considered, too, the demands of modern education, the obligations of natural historians, the incalculable value of living objects for study. I knew my friends of the jungle suffered no discomforts with me. My problem then resolved itself to this: Should I recommit my charges back to their own, and cease abetting further captures, or should I continue to guard and cherish my friends, thus saving them and their weaker neighbors from the certain evils of the wilds? Surely, I reasoned, their better welfare is assured here with me; they never hunger, thirst, suffer violent deaths, nor administer any. Incontestably they show that captivity is not a hardship. Feeling thus, can I conscientiously abandon them, where by continuing I may xi xii xiii xiv xv xvi A benefit them and others. The result of these and like deliberations was a decision to continue the work of my forebears. The training of my dumb companions is never cruel,—less so, perhaps, when the difference of organization is considered, than the firmness exercised occasionally in the correction of an evilly disposed child. Kindness is the whip used to lead wild animals to obey. Without it none can be made to understand. With confidence, established and maintained by kindness and gentleness, the most savage beast may be transformed into a willing and even eager pupil. Of course, there are limitations to the intelligence of wild animals. These limitations are pretty clearly established. The pupils are invariably capable of greater understanding and achievement than they are ever called upon to display. It is quite probable that other generations will carry wild-animal training further, but at the stage at which I have stopped I am content. I understand my associates, and know they understand me. I should be sorry to learn that the thoughtful of the public denied to my devotion the instructive and humane incentives that have sustained it. For some of the matter of the volume, incorporated from an article† on wild-animal training, written after an interview with me, I wish to express my thanks to Mr. S.H. Adams. F. C. B. † “The Training of Lions, Tigers, and other Great Cats,” by Samuel Hopkins Adams, “McClure’s Magazine,” September, 1900. THE TRAINING OF WILD ANIMALS CHAPTER I IN WHICH I BECOME “THE BOY TRAINER”— A LION HUNT IN A SEWER LTHOUGH my family was one of animal trainers and exhibitors, my father did not wish me to follow so hazardous a profession, and decided that I should become a clergyman of the Church of England. My early education was carefully looked after, and having completed my preparatory course under private tutors, I finally went to Kelvedon College in Essex, England, where I did well. I was fond of study, had good masters,—who always impressed upon me the fact that “he who would hope to command must learn to obey,”—and gained some honors. But during one vacation I went home and saw my father’s wild-animal exhibition, and there all the glamour and fascination of the show came upon me. There is no doubt I had inherited my father’s instincts. The lion-tamer my father had at that time was the great feature of the show. It struck me, however, that he was extremely cruel, and being very fond of animals myself, this aroused my indignation. I spoke to my father about it rather warmly, but he, evidently thinking it a boy’s impetuosity, laughed it off, saying the man was only protecting himself. That same evening, however, the trainer handled the lion so roughly that, enraged at the injustice and indignities to which he was subjected, the animal suddenly turned upon him, and would certainly have killed him had not prompt assistance been rendered. Wrought up and excited by the occurrence, I begged my father to let me take his place, but he would not hear of it. The next day I took the law into my own hands, and it was in the lion’s cage that my father found me, to his horror, when casually going the rounds of the show. He watched me for a while in fear and trembling, and then said, his voice quivering with anger and fright: “If ever you get out of there alive, my lad, I’ll give you the biggest thrashing you ever had in your life.” But he didn’t. He was so overjoyed at my safety and so proud of my success, that after much persuasion I got him to allow me to take the place of the incapacitated trainer. I was fifteen at this time, and was called “The Boy Trainer.” From that time my college days were over, and I knew there could never be any other life for me than that of a trainer and showman. xvii 3 4 5 I have never regretted this step; but I often look back upon my peaceful college days with great pleasure, for they laid the foundation of good principles, self-control, and discipline; and I have always made it my chief endeavor never to allow anything the least vulgar or offensive in my exhibitions. There is a fascination about wild-animal training which few who have once felt it escape. The constant presence of danger calls for quick judgment and promptness in meeting an emergency. A thrilling experience of mine in Birmingham, England, in 1889, may show the critical situation in which a wild-animal showman 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, 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. Kindness 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 would 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 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 suddenly, 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 untrammeled as when in his native wilds. MR. BOSTOCK AND HIS EIGHT LIONS 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 Birmingham, which contained at that time over two hundred 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 roaring at the top of his voice. In about twenty minutes 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 succession 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 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 manhole. 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 off 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!” 6 7 8 11 12 13 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 exhibition, 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. 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 whereabouts 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 perambulating 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 I had probably stopped a panic, and that my own liabilities in the matter were pretty grave possibilities 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 superintendent 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 desire 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 end of which had been blocked up so that the lion’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 whereabouts. 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 forward, hoping to drive the lion to his cage, only two blocks away. But at this juncture a terrific fight took place between the boar-hound and the lion, 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 lost to sight, as though the earth had suddenly swallowed 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. HERMAN WEEDON AND HIS GROUP OF LIONS, TIGER, BROWN, TIBET, AND SLOTH BEARS, SILESIAN BOARHOUNDS, AND HYENA 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 14 15 16 17 18 21 T 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 the cage and out over the sidewalk, 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 opportunity 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. CHAPTER II ORIGIN AND HISTORY OF WILD-ANIMAL TRAINING HE arena has been in use for public spectacles and amusements from the earliest ages, and its popularity has never diminished. The great changes, however, which have taken place have developed it into a civilized, instructive spectacle, instead of a barbarous and cruel performance presented only for the purpose of exciting men’s passions. Lions have always played a prominent part in these public amusements and exhibitions. They were led as trophies in the triumphs of semi-barbarians, and were exhibited and sacrificed by thousands in the Roman amphitheater. Six hundred were provided by Pompey for a single festival. That the lion should always have figured thus in history is but natural. He is the king of beasts, and though there are other wild animals more intelligent in some ways, he always has held, and always will hold, this supremacy over all other brutes. No wild animals were ever trained by the ancients. It was in turning the power and superiority of man over animals to financial account that the art of training wild animals was first conceived, and it was to further financial gain that it has been advanced step by step since, though the final development of each step has been made by a small number of men who have had an inborn love of daring, and an insatiable desire for the accomplishment of the hazardous. George Wombwell, from whom I am directly descended, was one of the first men who saw the great possibilities in the training of wild animals, although what actually led to the present advanced stage was the result of chance. Wombwell’s traveling show was established in England in 1805, and the first wild-animal show, in which the most ferocious of the large felines were used, was formed three years later. THE TOWERING OF THE KINGS Trained monkeys and many highly trained domestic animals were known in Europe, but never before had lions and tigers been subjugated to daily association with men. At that time a traveling show of the Wombwell type was similar in many respects to the great circuses of to-day, its chief point of similarity being its amalgamation with a menagerie. The importation of Asiatic and African animals was, of course, less frequent and more expensive than now, with the result that the menageries were smaller and less diversified. The greatest care was taken of the animals, chiefly on account of their commercial value, but the proprietors were heavily handicapped by their lack of knowledge respecting animal ways and requirements. It was a matter of frequent occurrence to take any little sick cubs into the family, and nurse and watch over them as one would a sick child. It was on such an occasion that George Wombwell thought of training wild animals as a good business speculation. He had just received two young lions from Africa, and on their arrival they were found to be in an extremely weak condition from bad feeding, neglect of cleanliness, and violent seasickness. It was clear that unless the greatest care and attention were given to them they would very soon die. Wombwell put one man to attend only to these cubs, watching over them night and day, and nursing them with all possible care. The man who lived with these young lions, ministering to their necessities and comforts, was in daily association with his charges for several weeks, and in that time acquired a familiarity which lessened his fear of them. He fed them daily from his own hands, kept them warm and clean, bedded them with fresh, dry straw morning and evening, dressed, and finally cured the sores which filth and neglect had caused on their sides and limbs, and by the time they were once more in good condition he had developed a strong affection for them. When he had to leave the lions altogether, he seemed to feel the separation very much, and the idea suggested itself to Wombwell that not only would the exhibition of two lions and a man in the same cage be a distinct novelty, but it would be a splendid financial speculation. There appeared to be very little, if any, danger, now that the three had grown accustomed to one another, so that when the man begged that the association should not be broken, Wombwell told him of his idea, to which he readily consented. In a few days he 22 23 24 27 28 29 T announced to the provincial public that he would exhibit a “lion-tamer,” and thousands came from near and far to witness this wonderful sight. Such was the beginning. That was less than a hundred years ago. Then two sick cubs with a quiet man sitting between them aroused the curiosity of all England, while now a man goes into the arena with twenty-seven full-grown male lions and makes them perform at the same time! From that first incident, the advance in animal training for exhibition purposes has been steady. Many things have been done which no one ever believed could be done; many valuable facts and characteristics about wild animals discovered which would, in all probability, never have been known to science otherwise; and a great many lessons learned as to the wonderful power of man over all the animal creation, if exercised in the proper manner. The advance was much slower at the start than it is now, when every year sees as great improvement in animal training as ten years did a century ago. It was five years before George Wombwell realized that it was possible for almost any animal to be trained and handled if he could only find the right man to do the handling. But that was then, and is now, a matter of the greatest difficulty. The progress during the first three quarters of the last century was very slow. There were various performances in which a man or a woman entered the arena with wild animals and put them through very elementary drills; but it was within the last twenty years only that the involved groups and elaborate tricks of the present day have been suggested and produced. Many things were not known formerly respecting the control of animals, which now form the very first essentials for all trainers, and accidents were more frequent and more dangerous. One of Wombwell’s most famous trainers was Ellen Bright, a girl who achieved a great reputation. Unfortunately, owing to some slight carelessness on her part, she was killed by a tiger in 1880, when only seventeen years old. Had she only realized more fully the need of patience and firmness with wild animals, there is no doubt whatever that the accident which caused her death would not have taken place. When it is considered how many trainers there now are, with how many animals they perform at one time, what difficulties they have to face, not only with such numbers, but with such diverse creatures naturally so antagonistic to one another, as in the case of the mixed groups, and how comparatively few accidents happen, it can be readily understood how far this science has progressed. Perhaps of all the types of animal training these mixed groups are the most wonderful. Lions and tigers instinctively hate each other, and in their native state look with contempt on jackals and hyenas. Were a lion and a tiger to meet in the jungle, it would mean a fight to the death. If two or more male lions meet in their native haunts, a fierce fight is the natural sequence, until only one is left to bear witness by his scars and tears of the terrible battle which has been fought. Should a jackal or a hyena see the king of beasts, he skulks around until his majesty has finished his meal, and then sneaks forward to take the leavings. And yet, in these mixed groups, lions, tigers, hyenas, sloth-bears, polar bears, and Tibet bears are all together in the same arena; one sits quietly on his pedestal while another goes through his act; the lion has to associate with the hyena; and in some cases two animals, naturally antagonistic to each other, and coming from far corners of the globe, perform together without even showing that they object, and have been subjected to this gross indignity by the superiority of man. It took Herman Weedon years of patient and painstaking toil and trouble to bring his group to its present state of perfection. The hardest task of all is to accustom animals of one kind to tolerate the presence of animals of another kind. There is always the danger of a fight, which between two wild animals generally ends in the death of one or the other, and the trainer has to consider the interests of his employer as well as the great risk to his own life. In arranging a mixed group, each animal has to be studied carefully; his idiosyncrasies must be humored, his characteristics must be known and ever borne in mind; the animosity between the wild beasts must be taken into careful consideration, and the methods of teaching must vary with each animal according to its special traits. It means years of patient effort, because it is practically training animal nature against its instincts, and the final result of amity, or assumed amity, between such antagonistic forces is for this reason one of the greatest proofs of the extent of man’s power over wild animals. CHAPTER III HOUSEKEEPING FOR WILD ANIMALS HERE are three essentials in the care and feeding of wild animals—good food, cleanliness, and exercise. Food and cleanliness come first, but exercise is nearly as important, and this is one of the main reasons why animals in traveling shows are so much healthier and stronger than those kept in zoological parks. In the parks they get food and cleanliness, but little exercise; for wild animals are proverbially lazy, and, unless compelled by hunger or force of circumstances, will not exert themselves in the least, preferring to lie about and sleep rather than even to walk round their cages. “THE THREE GRACES” 30 31 32 33 34 With trained animals especially, the trainers make it one of their chief objects to give their animals exercise; first, to keep them in good condition, and, secondly, to make them more alert and active. Captain Bonavita, a well-known trainer, makes it a rule to take out all his lions, whether performing that week or not, and exercise them up and down the passages, the runways behind the cages, or in the arena. In doing this there are difficulties. All wild animals, especially lions, dislike movement. True, they pace up and down their cages, but this is only when waiting for food, or because they have discovered a stranger in the building and resent it. This pacing is not exercise enough. Think of the miles a lion has to race in his wild state in search of food! But in captivity there is no inducement to take any exercise at all. He is fed well and regularly, for his commercial value is considerable, and he is well worth taking care of. He knows that he will get his food in some way or other, and so the most he does in the matter is to pace restlessly up and down his small cage and exercise his lungs by roaring occasionally. Having to go through two performances a day compels the animal to take a certain amount of regular exercise, which he always resents, but which improves his health and condition. This is the reason that trained animals have such good sleek coats,—a true test of the condition of an animal,—well-grown, thick manes, and clean mouths, feet, and eyes. There can be no doubt whatever that all wild animals enjoy a change of air and scene. Watch a lion or a tiger when anything strange or unusual takes place. He will rise up and do his best to investigate, and, failing in this, he walks about and roars at the top of his voice. And although this is a little trying to the nerves of some of his hearers, he is all the better for it in many ways. It has been noticed by many animal owners and trainers, and I have invariably noticed it myself, that the animals grow listless and indifferent after being in one place for a long time; but as soon as they begin to travel, they rouse themselves and take an interest in all that is going on. Very few animals roar or make any sound when traveling, but they are, nevertheless, always on the qui vive to know what is happening, and evidently take a great interest in it all. The very movement of the wagons and trains, although occasionally upsetting them for a short time, proves beneficial in stirring up their livers, which often grow torpid from the sedentary life. Many have the idea that wild animals are very robust, but this is a great mistake. Instead of being in strong and rude health, they are subject to all kinds of ailments, and in many cases have to be looked after as carefully as an infant. Lions are subject to colds and coughs, and to very serious tuberculosis, which often ends fatally in less than eight months, its course being far more rapid with them than with men. Another trouble with lions is that they are much afflicted with rheumatism, and unless kept in a dry and warm place, get so crippled in the joints that they not only become valueless for show purposes, but very often have to be killed in order to put them out of their misery—a serious loss when a lion has cost over a thousand dollars and has increased his value by becoming a good performer. Lionesses, too, are subject to a large number of complaints, and even when fairly healthy and strong require unceasing attention. It is a very critical time when a lioness is about to have cubs. The lioness is invariably more restless and much quicker in movement than the lion, but when expecting to become a mother her restlessness is terrible, and her excitement, if allowed to get the least bit beyond her control, very frequently results in her not only killing all her little ones, but actually eating them. And when this has once happened, it is a rare thing ever to make a good mother of her, for she will do it again and again, not through dislike or fear of her offspring, but simply because she is restless and unnerved, and does not seem to know what she is doing in her distress. Of course, in addition to ordinary complaints, there are other things which affect the health of wild animals. In a free fight among wild beasts, such as happened at one time with Captain Bonavita’s lions, the animals received serious injuries. It takes very little to start lions fighting; it is their nature to fight one another, and it is only by training and the wonderful power which Captain Bonavita holds over his animals, that this large number of wild beasts is made to sit calmly round on pedestals and not even touch one another. “DENVER” AND “CÆSAR” In this case Captain Bonavita had turned his twenty-seven lions out into the runway behind the cages in preparation for the performance, when Denver, one of the biggest and fiercest Nubian lions, suddenly started a fight with another lion. In a very few minutes the whole twenty-seven lions were fighting madly in the narrow passageway, with one man among them, for whom at that moment they had nothing but supreme contempt. Captain Bonavita did his best to separate the animals, and took some desperate chances while doing so, for the lions were only too ready for something to fight; but it was all useless. He shouted orders to them, called them by name, fired blank cartridges, and when he had exhausted his voice, cartridges, and strength, could only take refuge behind one narrow board, into which he had luckily had a handle put only the day before, and do his best to defend himself. This board was not wide enough to cover him, and he had to guard himself carefully, as several lions were trying to get at him through the little space which was left at one side. All he could do was to shift the board constantly, but among so many it was small wonder that at last one of the lions got one huge paw in, and tore a large piece of the trainer’s coat and flesh off his chest. By great efforts, however, Bonavita managed to get out alive. In this terrific fight several of the lions were seriously injured, for the fight lasted over an hour, and it took nearly another hour to get all the animals back into their cages again. One or two were badly bitten and torn, and it was necessary that some sewing and patching should be done. With great caution, ropes were dropped round the neck and legs of each of the injured animals, and in this way they were drawn close to the bars, and the necessary stitches and repairs were accomplished with much difficulty. This is one of the most dangerous things to do to a wild animal, for, in spite of being tied, he is always on the lookout, and can give a bite which would stop the 37 38 39 40 43 44 45 operator forever. But in this case all was got through safely, and the lions eventually recovered. Animals are always roped in this way when anything is wrong with their teeth, claws, or limbs. It is the only way in which they can be handled at all. As for the notion that many people have that some of the animals are drugged, I need scarcely say that it is absurd. Animals cannot be drugged in that way. To drug wild animals might mean some very serious losses, not to mention the fact that the ultimate effect of the drugs would greatly depreciate their commercial value. And while speaking of this peculiar delusion of the public, I might, perhaps, also be allowed to mention the mistaken idea that so many have, that cruelty is practised to a certain extent in an animal exhibition. No greater mistake could possibly be made. A man who purchases valuable race-horses does not ill-treat them or allow others to ill-treat them. On the contrary, apart from the humane point of view, he takes care that all the men in his establishment are kind to the animals in every way, attending to their wants and comforts, and taking the greatest care of them. It is much the same in an animal exhibition. For instance, the lion has a market value determined by his ability as a performer. Any healthy, well-formed lion is worth from eight hundred to twelve hundred dollars, but in the case of a lion performing in a group, the loss of one means the practical disbandment of the group, because they have been taught to act in concert, and another will be necessary to take the place of the dead or disabled one. Add the lion’s value to the cost of transportation and training, not to mention the costly item of feeding for years, and you will have a pretty large figure. It must, therefore, be apparent to those who will take the trouble to give the matter a little consideration, that the very greatest care must be taken of the animals, and that the slightest abuse of them cannot be allowed. Even were this not so, I would not allow any one employed by me to stay another day if I once found that he was using any cruelty whatever to the animals in his charge. Kindness may not be appreciated by wild animals in one sense, but it undoubtedly tends to promote their comfort and health. MLLE. AURORA AND HER POLAR BEARS In feeding wild animals care is always taken to have the temperature of the food and water about the same as the temperature of the body. Should their meat or water be given to them too hot or too cold, it affects their stomachs, and they may be ill for weeks in consequence. Only the very best and freshest of meat is given them. The least taint or disease would be sure to cause trouble in some form or other, and in many cases serious sickness and death would follow. It is true that lions in their wild state, when unable to procure fresh food, will occasionally eat tainted food. Whether or not their free, out-of-door life tends to counteract the ill effects of this, is not definitely known. All I personally know is, that lions and tigers in captivity are unable to eat any tainted food without a sickness following, which not only gives untold trouble and cost to the owners, but is also a source of extreme unpleasantness to those around. The only way to keep wild beasts wholesome and free from smell is to give them the best and freshest of food. The best food for lions and tigers is good fresh beef or mutton, and an occasional sheep’s head, of which they are extremely fond. Curiously enough, they are fond of any heads,—sheep’s, chickens’, calves’, lambs’, and others,—and will always eat them with the greatest relish. About twelve to fifteen pounds of beef or mutton are given to each of my lions and tigers twice a day, unless we deem it advisable to lessen it on any signs of sickness. Pork is never given under any circumstances, or much fat, although lions are rather fond of the fat of mutton. With each piece of beef or mutton, if we can manage it, is given a piece of bone; the reason for this is that gnawing the bone helps digestion and is good for the teeth. On Sundays no food, but plenty of water, is given to the carnivora. This fast-day once a week is absolutely necessary; it rests their digestion, prevents them from growing too fat and lazy, and is beneficial to their health in many ways. I have carefully watched, and although at times some will get restless when feeding-time approaches on Sunday, they soon settle down again, and on Monday do not seem to be more hungry than on any other day in the week. When it becomes apparent that a lion or tiger needs an aperient, a piece of liver is given, which has the desired effect. In some cases the liver is given once a week, particularly if the animal is a little off his feed. In other cases, a rabbit, pigeon, or chicken—always killed first—is given; this last food being specially beneficial should the animal be troubled with worms—a not unfrequent cause of sickness. In cases of special sickness, of course, other means have to be employed, and special medicines given, in order to restore the animal to health. As all carnivora suffer, to a large extent, from the same complaints as human beings, they can be treated in much the same way. When the sickness cannot be cured by a change of diet, a certain amount of medicine is mixed with the water or milk. Should the animal refuse to take it in this way, a tempting piece of fresh meat is plugged with the medicine, inserted in capsules, and in this way the animal takes his dose without tasting it. But it is only in extreme cases that I consider it a good thing to give medicine. The best way is to let the animals fast for a time, give them plenty of fresh water, or a little milk, as much fresh air and exercise as possible, and leave the rest to Nature, which in nearly all cases effects a complete cure. Bears are occasionally given raw meat, but it is not a good thing to give them too much. They thrive best on cooked meats, fish, and bread—dry or soaked in milk. A polar bear is extremely fond of fat pork, and would go through a great deal to get even a small bit; 46 49 50 51 52 but one of the greatest delicacies you can give a polar bear is a dish of fish-oil. His relish and keen appreciation are well worth seeing, and no connoisseur could display greater enjoyment over a choice entrée than a polar bear over a dish of fish-oil. Polar bears need special care in many ways. The great change of climate is one of their worst trials, and there is no doubt that in the hot weather they suffer very much, no matter what one does for their comfort. Even in cold, frosty weather, a polar bear, when being trained, will get completely played out long before any ordinary bear would consider he had begun. In a very short time he will begin to pant and show signs of distress. In training her group of polar bears, Mlle. Aurora took great pains to give the animals as little exertion as possible, and those who have seen this group perform will remember that the chief things they do are to take up positions on various stands and make pretty groupings. In this way she has certainly succeeded in getting one of the finest groups of polar bears on exhibition, while there is also the comforting feeling that the animals are not being made to do more than they are able. One of the most interesting but, at the same time, uncertain things in the care of wild animals is the rearing and feeding of cubs. Cubs vary in size, health, strength, disposition, and temperament as much as children, and the care and treatment of them have to be regulated accordingly. The mothers differ likewise. Many lionesses and tigresses make extremely good mothers, many do...