This was a fellow to be handled carefully!
He returned snarl and spit for a kind word--and he never hit softly on
the nose, but scratched so that it hurt. He did not understand fun,
but took everything in dead earnest; and in consequence was always
quarrelling with his brothers and sisters. They knew him well enough
by now, and only as a last resource, when there was nobody else about
to play with, would one make the best of a bad job and take Black. In
revenge he mixed in a game of his own accord whenever it suited him,
and that in a most aggressive and unpleasant manner.
He was strong and well built; but he had large paws--and worse still,
an ugly face!
A high-arched forehead protruded abruptly over unusually deep-set eyes.
The eyes themselves were golden-green in colour--and some thing angry
and evil perpetually obscured their glance, like a murky cloud over
a clear horizon. And the wildness in the eyes was emphasized by the
almost constantly pressed-back ears.
He was extremely skilful at climbing trees! His insulting and
provocative behaviour often resulted in a general assault upon him, and
when things became desperate he invariably went aloft.
To get up was easy enough--all the kittens could do that; but none
of them could come down like Black. The others slid and scrambled
down, thereby ruffling their fur and blunting their claws; he, on the
contrary, had the real tree-climber’s blood, having inborn in him the
art of descending in successive jumps, a number of short falls, which
he checked at the right moment by sticking all four batches of claws
into the tree-trunk.
As time passed, he became as much at home in the trees as a marten, and
could spring from top to top with the skill and agility of a squirrel.
It is doubtful whether any other cat than he could have escaped from
the manure-well.
Just as the secret of Samson’s strength was hidden in the giant’s
growth of hair, so was Black’s concealed in his claw-daggers; he spent,
indeed, every spare moment in sharpening his claws!
He was nearly always to be seen by the old gate-post, where he squatted
down and reached up with his forepaws, listening contentedly to the
scratching of his claws on the hard, bone-dry wood. He always finished
off by stropping them, stroking them forwards and backwards over the
corner of the post until they were as sharp as shoemakers’ bradawls.
None of the others possessed weapons like these!
And as he grew up and began to catch things, he deceived by means of
them even experienced old birds! Thus, one day an old male sparrow
taking a leisurely dust-bath fell a victim to his precocity. The
sparrow, with the wisdom of his years, thought, “Piff! it’s only a
kitten!” And it flew up just in time to escape--if Black _had_ been an
ordinary kitten!
But that was its mistake--just as the chameleon with its lightning-like
tongue reaches the distant insect, so did Black at the critical moment
succeed in thrusting forward his claws and reaching the bird.
These terrible claws of his in reality made his forepaws abnormally
long--a fact which his brothers and sisters also had long since
discovered!
When Mother Puss sat dissecting her spoil and Black-kitten came too
near, she used at first to lash out at Master Impudence. But Master
Impudence lashed back! It was as if he said, “You must make room for
me, too!” And the old she-cat soon learned to respect him for his
swift, scratchy boxes on the ear.
In general he was timid and solitary.... The moment the kittens heard
people on the field-path near by, he would arch his back, thicken his
fur, and hurriedly run to cover.