Let us suppose an animal to be even-tempered. This means he is always
at his maximum of ugliness. He shows every day the worst that is in
him, and the trainer knows the limit of what to expect in that
direction. But animals are not constituted that way. They are generally
on their good behavior, or at least have an astonishing reserve of
ferocity to be vented on the hapless trainer when the day of abnormal
ill-humor comes--provided, of course, the trainer is not discerning
enough to detect the gathering storm.
In no other profession is eternal vigilance so surely the price of
safety. There is nothing more certain than the fate of the trainer who
once relaxes the intensity of his vigilance. Just as surely as he
throws himself off guard the animal he is working will get him. This is
an accepted rule among those who train and perform with animals. Of
course, it often appears to the outsider that the men handling
ferocious animals are off their guard and nonchalantly indifferent to
the creatures in the cage. But the experienced animal-man knows better.
The fact that a trainer or performer allows two or three lions to pass
behind his back might seem to indicate that watchfulness is not
necessary, and that creatures naturally ferocious may at least
sometimes be put absolutely on their good behavior--trusted with a
man's life without being subjected to the slightest surveillance. In
nine cases of every ten a momentary adherence to this departure would
result in disaster.