We have said that the Lion generally chooses the night for his

excursions; and this is in fact the only time at which he ventures to

approach the habitations of man, from which he will frequently carry

off horses or oxen, apparently with the greatest ease, and almost

without seeming to be incumbered by his burthen. Beyond the precincts of

European civilization, and out of the reach of the dreaded rifle, he will

sometimes penetrate into the very hut of the Bushman, and prey upon its

human inhabitants. It is even stated, and on very respectable authority,

that in some of the most distant kraals, or villages, those wretched

people purposely expose the old and the infirm among them in such

situations as they consider most open to attack, as the Lion’s share, in

the expectation that he will instinctively seize upon those who are first

thrown in his way. When, however, the Lion finds his appetite thus easily

satiated, it is said that he is sure to return night after night to the

kraal for a fresh victim; until the miserable remnant of its inhabitants

at length find it absolutely necessary to quit the ground, and to seek a

precarious safety in flight.

In the daytime, when pressed by hunger, the Lion takes his secret stand

among the reeds and long grass in the neighbourhood of springs and

rivers, and watches with unwearied patience for such animals as may, for

the purpose of quenching their thirst, pass sufficiently near him to

ensure the success of his attack. This is generally made in one enormous

bound of fifteen, twenty, or even, it is said, thirty feet, and with a

force capable of bearing to the ground and completely disabling the most

formidable opponent. At times, however, he will pursue his prey somewhat

more openly, and by quickly repeated springs; but this is an exertion

which he is unable to continue for any considerable length of time, and

which, consequently, any animal of moderate fleetness, that has fairly

got the start of him, is certain to outstrip. Of this the Lion appears to

be fully aware; for, if not successful in the commencement of the chase,

he generally relinquishes it at once, and retires gradually, and step by

step, to his place of ambush, to watch for a better opportunity and a

more certain prey.

It is rarely that the Lion of the Cape district ventures to attack a man,

unless provoked, or impelled by urgent hunger. The colonists, however,

who are very great sufferers (especially in their horses, for whose flesh

he seems to have a peculiar taste) by his frequent visits, are his most

determined and deadly foes, and omit no opportunity of wreaking their

vengeance upon him for the injuries which he has inflicted upon their

property. The frontier boors in particular, who are more exposed to

his ravages, and who, being well trained to hunting, are most of them

excellent marksmen, appear to take a peculiar pleasure in attacking

the Lion, even when they meet him almost singly. They, however, more

frequently make up parties for the chase, which is unquestionably

attended with no little danger, even when the huntsmen are numerous and

experienced; for although the Lion on such occasions almost always takes

to his heels, and endeavours to make his escape without confronting his

pursuers; yet, when he finds that flight is in vain, he turns upon them

with a fierceness and determination that nothing could withstand, were it

not for the well proved superiority possessed by them in the formidable

rifle, which, on such an emergency, they know how to direct with a steady

and almost unerring aim.

The Cape Lion is seldom taken alive; his utter destruction and

extermination forming the primary object of his pursuers. Occasionally,

however, when a Lioness has been shot, and the hunters have been

fortunate enough to trace out her den, the cubs are brought away, and

in some measure domesticated, at least for a season, and until they

acquire sufficient force to become dangerous. Up to this period some of

the colonists will even suffer them to remain almost at large in their

dwellings; but they have frequently occasion to rue the mercy they have

shown, and are at length compelled, by the unequivocal manifestations of

that ferocity which never fails to make its appearance when the animals

have attained a certain age, to destroy the creatures whom they have

nourished and caressed.

Two male individuals of this breed are now exhibiting at the Tower: the

one whose portrait illustrates the present article, and who, although

scarcely more than two years and a half old, already rivals his adult

Asiatic neighbour in size and majesty, while he exceeds him in grace and

agility; and a second, of about ten months old, apparently belonging to

the pale variety, and who is just beginning to exhibit the first faint

outline of the mane. The former of these is remarkably beautiful and

docile: he became an inmate of the Tower in May, 1827; and was, during

his voyage from the Cape, being then very young, so tame and domesticated

as to be allowed to run about the deck like a dog.

[Illustration]

THE BARBARY LIONESS.

_FELIS LEO._--Var. NUMIDA.

In the male of this variety, which has been more frequently brought to

Europe than any other, the mane attains as much developement and covers

the under parts of the body as extensively as in the Lion of Eastern

Asia, whom, however, at the adult age, he exceeds considerably in size.

The Lioness has little to distinguish her from the other breeds.

The specimen now in the Menagerie is a young female about three years

and a half old. She was a present to his Majesty from the Emperor of

Morocco. During some tempestuous weather, which occurred on her passage,

the male who accompanied her was killed, and she herself met with an

accident, from the falling of a spar, by which she was curtailed of her

fair proportions, and deprived of the greater part of her tail. The

disfigurement thus caused is, however, trifling, and she is still a very

fine animal.

[Illustration]

THE TIGER.

_FELIS TIGRIS._ LINN.

Closely allied to the Lion, whom he resembles in size, in power, in

external form, in internal structure, in zoological characters, in his

prowling habits, and in his sanguinary propensities, the Tiger is at

once distinguished from that king of beasts, and from every other of

their common genus, by the peculiar marking of his coat. On a ground

which exhibits in different individuals various shades of yellow, he is

elegantly striped by a series of transverse black bands or bars, which

occupy the sides of his head, neck, and body, and are continued upon his

tail in the form of rings, the last of the series uniformly occupying the

extremity of that organ, and giving to it a black tip of greater or less

extent. The under parts of his body and the inner sides of his legs are

almost entirely white; he has no mane; and his whole frame, though less

elevated than that of the Lion, is of a slenderer and more graceful make.

His head is also shorter and more rounded.

Almost in the same degree that the Lion has been exalted and magnified,

at the expense of his fellow brutes, has the Tiger been degraded and

depressed below his just and natural level. While the one has been held

up to admiration, as the type and standard of heroic perfection, the

other has, with equal capriciousness of judgment and disregard of the

close and intimate relationship subsisting between them, been looked

upon by mankind in general with those feelings of unmingled horror and

detestation which his character for untameable ferocity and insatiable

thirst of blood was so well calculated to inspire. It requires, however,

but little consideration to teach us that the broad distinction, which

has thus been drawn, cannot by possibility exist; and the recorded

observations of naturalists and travellers, both at home and abroad,

will be found amply sufficient to prove that the difference in their

characters and habits, on which so much stress has been laid, is in

reality as slight and unessential as that which exists in their corporeal

structure.

Unquestionably the Tiger has not the majesty of the Lion; for he is

destitute of the mane, in which that majesty chiefly resides. Neither

has he the same calm and dignified air of imperturbable gravity which

is at once so striking and so prepossessing in the aspect of the Lion.

But, on the other hand, it will readily be granted, that in the superior

lightness of his frame, which allows his natural agility its free and

unrestricted scope, and in the graceful ease and spirited activity of his

motions, to say nothing of the beauty, the regularity, and the vividness

of his colouring, he far excels his competitor, whose giant bulk and

comparative heaviness of person, added to the dull uniformity of his

colour, detract in no small degree from the impression produced by his

noble and majestic bearing.

In comparing the moral qualities of these two formidable animals, we

shall also find that the shades of difference, for at most they are but

shades, which distinguish them, are, like their external characteristics,

pretty equally balanced in favour of each. In all the leading features of

their character, the habits of both are essentially the same. The Tiger,

equally with the Lion, and in common indeed with the whole of the group

to which he belongs, reposes indolently in the security of his den, until

the calls of appetite stimulate him to look abroad for food. He then

chooses a convenient ambush, in which to lie concealed from observation,

generally amid the underwood of the forest, but sometimes even on the

branches of a tree, which he climbs with all the agility of a cat. In

this secret covert he awaits with patient watchfulness the approach of

his prey, upon which he darts forth with an irresistible bound, and bears

it off in triumph to his den. Unlike the Lion, however, if his first

attack proves unsuccessful, and he misses his aim, he does not usually

slink sullenly back into his retreat, but pursues his victim with a speed

and activity which is seldom baffled even by the fleetest animals.

It is only when this close and covert mode of attack has failed in

procuring him the necessary supply, that, urged by those inward cravings,

which are the ruling impulse of all his actions, he prowls abroad under

the veil of night, and ventures to approach the dwellings of man, of whom

he does not appear to feel that instinctive awe which the Lion has been

known so frequently to evince. But even on such occasions, and although

impelled by the strong stimulus of famine, he is in general far from

unmindful of his own security; but creeps slowly along his silent path

with all the stealthy caution so characteristic of the feline tribe.

Occasionally, however, when the pangs of hunger have become intolerable,

and can no longer be controlled even by the overpowering sway of

instinct, he will boldly advance upon man himself in the open face of

day, and brave every danger in the pursuit of that object which, to the

exclusion of every other sentiment, appears under such circumstances

wholly to engross his faculties.

It is evident then that in the general outline of his habits, and even

in most of the separate traits by which his character is marked, he

differs but little from the Lion. His courage, if brute force stimulated

by sensual appetite can deserve that honourable name, is at least

equal; and as for magnanimity and generosity, the idea of attributing

such noble qualities to either is in itself so absurd, and is so fully

refuted by every particular of their authentic history, that it would

be perfectly ridiculous to attempt a comparison where no materials for

comparison exist. It may, however, be observed that in one point the

disposition of the Tiger appears to be more cruel than that of the Lion;

inasmuch as it is related, that he is not at all times satisfied with

a single victim, but deals forth wholesale destruction, without mercy

and without distinction, upon whatever may chance to be within the reach

of his murderous talons. This, however, is by no means his constant or

usual practice; his instinct being in general sufficient to teach him

that his purpose is as effectually answered by one fatal bound as by the

most extensive devastation; for neither he, nor any of the more powerful

of his tribe, return to their prey after the first meal, but leave its

mangled relics for the ignoble beasts which follow in their train.

To what cause then, if the similarity between these two animals be so

great, and the points of distinction between them so trifling, can we

attribute the very different impressions which we have all received, and

in all probability continue to cherish, with regard to their respective

characters? Perhaps something like a plausible answer to this question

may be found in the fact, that our notions of the Lion have been formed

on the striking and exaggerated pictures of his noble qualities, for

which we are indebted to the poets of antiquity, who contemplated him

only in his captive and almost domesticated state; while our early ideas

of the Tiger were derived in a great measure from the equally exaggerated

statements of miserable and pusillanimous Hindoos, the spiritless and

unresisting victims of every species of oppression, who regarded him with

almost unspeakable horror as the merciless tyrant of their forests,--a

tyrant whose ferocious temper and sanguinary ravages were equalled

only by those of the human despots, to whom, as well as to their brute

oppressors, they paid the base tribute of servile minds, in the fearful

dread and crouching awe with which they prostrated themselves at the feet

of both.

Nothing in fact can exceed the terror which this formidable animal

inspires in those countries which are liable to his devastations. More

restricted, however, in this respect than the Lion, he is entirely

unknown in Africa, and is rarely, if ever, to be met with in Asia on this

side the Indus. In the south of China, and in the larger Asiatic Islands,

such as Sumatra and Java, he is unhappily but too common; but it is

said, we know not with what degree of truth, that in the last mentioned

locality he is less ferocious than in the Peninsula of Hindostan. This is

truly the cradle of his existence and the seat of his empire, in which

he disputes dominion even with the Lion himself, who is comparatively

rare in the Indian jungles, and with whom the Tiger has been sometimes

known to join in deadly and successful struggle for the mastery. Endowed

with a degree of force, which the Lion and the Elephant alone can

equal, he carries off a buffalo in his tremendous jaws, almost without

relaxing from his usual speed. With a single stroke of his claws he rips

open the body of the largest animals; and is said to suck their blood

with insatiable avidity. Of the correctness of this latter statement,

at least in its full extent, there is however strong reason to doubt.

The Tiger does not, according to the most credible accounts, exhibit

this propensity to drinking the blood of his victims in any greater

degree than the rest of his carnivorous and blood-thirsty companions.

In this, as in other instances, fear has drawn largely on credulity,

and the simple and sufficiently disgusting fact has been amplified and

exaggerated with all the refinements upon horror which the terrified

imagination could suggest.

In making these observations it is far from our intention to become the

apologists of this ferocious beast: our object is simply to place him in

the rank which he deserves to hold, on a level with those animals with

whom Nature has decreed that he should be associated no less in character

than in form. In his wild and unrestricted state, he is unquestionably

one of the most terrible of the living scourges, to whose fatal ravages

the lower animals, and even man himself, are exposed. But in captivity,

and especially if domesticated while young, his temper is equally pliant,

his disposition equally docile, and his manners and character equally

susceptible of amelioration, with those of any other animal of his class.

All the stories that have been so frequently reiterated, until they

have at length passed current without examination as accredited truths,

of his intractable disposition and insensibility to the kind treatment

of his keepers, towards whom it is alleged that he never exhibits the

slightest feelings of gratitude, have been proved by repeated experience

to be utterly false and groundless. He is tamed with as much facility,

and as completely, as the Lion; and soon becomes familiarised with those

who feed him, whom he learns to distinguish from others, and by whom he

is fond of being noticed and caressed. Like the cat, which he resembles

so closely in all his actions, he arches his broad and powerful back

beneath the hand that caresses him; he licks his fur and smooths himself

with his paws; and purrs in the same mild and expressive manner when he

is particularly pleased. He remains perfectly quiet and undisturbed,

unless when hungry or irritated, and passes the greater part of his time

in listless repose. His roar is nearly similar to that of the Lion, and,

like his, is by no means to be regarded as a symptom of anger, which he

announces by a short and shrill cry, approaching to a scream.

Two of these noble animals, the one male and the other female, are

among the most striking and attractive ornaments of the Menagerie.

The beautiful male, of which our figure offers a characteristic

likeness, is a very recent importation, having arrived in England in

the month of April of the present year, in the East India Company’s

ship Buckinghamshire, to the commander of which, Captain Glasspool, we

are indebted for the following particulars relative to his birthplace,

capture, early life, and education. He was taken prisoner in company

with two other cubs, supposed to be not more than three weeks old, on

that part of the coast of the peninsula of Malacca which is opposite to

the island of Penang, and is commonly known by the name of the Queda

Coast. In our present imperfect acquaintance with this part of the

farther peninsula of Hindoostan, it affords perhaps but little ground

for surprise that none of these terrible animals should have previously

reached this quarter of the globe from a locality so seldom visited by

European vessels. Their existence in its extensive jungles and marshy

plains has long, however, been notorious; and to judge from the specimen

now before us, which, although barely two years old, already exceeds in

size the full-grown Asiatic Lion which occupies the neighbouring den,

they must in that situation be at least as formidable as their fellows of

the hither peninsula. The dam of this individual had, it appears, made

a nocturnal incursion into one of the towns of the district, from which

she had carried off a large quantity of provisions. She was pursued and

killed, and her three cubs were taken possession of by the conquerors

in token of their victory and brought home in triumph. One of them,

a female, died shortly after; the second, a male, is still living in

the possession of a resident at Penang; and the third, the subject of

the present article, also fell into the hands of a gentleman of that

settlement, in whose paddock he was confined, in company with a pony

and a dog, for upwards of twelve months, without evincing the least

inclination to injure his companions or any one who approached him. By

this gentleman he was presented to Captain Glasspool, who brought him to

England: on the voyage he was remarkably tame, allowing the sailors to

play with him, and appearing to take much pleasure in their caresses.

On being placed in his present den he was rather sulky for a few days;

but seems now to have recovered his good temper, and to be perfectly

reconciled to his situation. The mildness of his temper may probably

be in a great measure due to his having from a very early age been

accustomed to boiled food; raw flesh never having been offered to him

until after his arrival in the Menagerie. This change of food he seems

particularly to enjoy, although he has by no means lost his appetite for

soup, which he devours with much eagerness. Notwithstanding his immature

age, Mr. Cops considers him the largest Tiger that he ever saw.

The other individual at present in the Tower is a Tigress of great beauty

from Bengal, scarcely a twelvemonth old, who also promises to become an

exceedingly fine animal. During her passage from Calcutta she was allowed

to range about the vessel unrestricted, became perfectly familiar with

the sailors, and showed not the slightest symptom of ferocity. On her

arrival, however, in the Thames, the irritation produced by the sight

of strangers completely and instantly changed her temper, rendering her

irascible and dangerous. Her deportment was so sulky and savage that Mr.

Cops could scarcely be prevailed on by her former keeper, who saw her

shortly afterwards, to allow him to enter her den: but no sooner did

she recognise her old friend, than she fawned upon him, licked him, and

caressed him, exhibiting the most extravagant signs of pleasure; and when

he left her she cried and whined for the remainder of the day. To her new

residence and her new keeper she is now perfectly reconciled.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

THE LEOPARD.

_FELIS LEOPARDUS._ LINN.

The race of this wily and sanguinary animal, which is unsurpassed in all

the terrible characteristics of its tribe, and yields to the tremendous

and ferocious beasts, to the illustration of whose habits and manners our

previous pages have been devoted, in none of their dreaded attributes,

excepting only in size and strength, is spread almost as extensively

over the surface of the Old World as that of the Lion himself. From the

shores of the Mediterranean to the immediate neighbourhood of the Cape

he is familiar to every part of the monster-bearing continent of Africa;

while in the east of Asia his fatal spring and murderous talons are

equally known and dreaded by the mild and timid Hindoos, the polite but

still barbarous Chinese, and the fierce and savage Islanders of the great

Sumatran chain. Throughout this immense tract of country he varies but in

a trifling degree, and that merely in his comparative magnitude, in the

size, shape, and disposition of his markings, and in the greater or less

intensity of his colouring: in the more essential particulars of form and

structure, as well as in character and disposition, he is every where the

same.

It has already been mentioned that the Leopard is smaller than the Tiger;

indeed he seldom exceeds from three to four feet from the tip of the nose

to the root of the tail, which latter is somewhat shorter than the body.

Perhaps the largest authentic measurement is that of an animal, spoken of

under the designation of Panther, but in all probability truly a Leopard,

which was killed by Colonel Denham’s party in the course of that zealous

and successful traveller’s late expedition, and which is stated at eight

feet two inches from the muzzle to the extremity of the tail. This savage

creature, although twice impaled by the lances of his pursuers which

he had snapped asunder in his rage, was still on the point of making a

spring upon the foremost of the party, when a musket ball through the

head completely deprived him of that vitality which his previous wounds,

dangerous and fatal as they undoubtedly were, had not even appeared to

diminish in any sensible degree.

The ground colour of the fur of the Leopard, which is eminently and

beautifully sleek, is a yellowish fawn above, which becomes paler on the

sides, and is entirely lost in the pure white of the under part of the

body. The top of the back, the head, neck, limbs, and under surface of

the body, are irregularly covered with larger or smaller, roundish or

oval, perfectly black spots; while the whole of the sides of the animal

and a portion of his tail are occupied by numerous distinct roses, formed

by the near approach of three or four elongated small black spots,

which surround a central area, about an inch or an inch and a quarter

in breadth, of a somewhat deeper colour than the ground on which it is

placed. There are some black lines on the lips, and bands of the same

colour on the inside of the legs; two or three imperfect black circles,

alternating with white, also occur towards the extremity of the tail,

which is entirely white beneath.

The Tower Menagerie · 第 2 / 14 段