enraged. Everybody turned out, and the panther made off in the midst
of the hubbub. But his visit was looked upon as a challenge, and they
resolved to postpone any further proceedings against tigers in that
vicinity, until this marauder had been hunted. Orders to that effect
were issued to the head shikári, and that worthy acted upon them with
such success as to report next morning that the trackers had marked
him down. “After the usual hot march of three or four miles,” says
Colonel Barras, “we came upon the chief shikári, who was speedily to
place us face to face with our hidden foe. On arriving at the scene of
action, we found that the panther had taken up his quarters on a steep
hillside which was much more thickly covered with cactus plant than
usual. The top of the hill was flat ... and devoid of cover. The last
short rise up this eminence was so steep that a line of beaters had
drawn themselves up in tolerable safety all along the crest, prepared
to hurl showers of rocks and stones down the declivity, should the
panther take an upward course. All of them, however, then maintained
an immovable attitude and a profound silence, whilst in a whisper
scarcely to be heard, our guide pointed out the exact bush in which the
enemy was said to be concealed. We divided the distance around it, and
gradually closed in towards the centre of attraction, till not more
than five or six yards separated us from the place.... Here we paused
in circumspection; no sound struck upon the ear, nor did so much as a
leaf quiver a warning to the eye. But though invisible to us, we felt
that the animal was aware of our presence, and that its eyes were fixed
upon us as it crouched for a spring.”
Still the panther remained quiet, “and whilst the party were discussing
various projects, my dog keeper asked permission to ascend the slope
of the amphitheatre on which we were standing, so that he might join
the line of beaters on the ridge above. Permission was given, but he
was strictly enjoined to make a circuit round the tract of bushes,
to enter which would have been dangerous. He had not gone many yards,
however, when with true native perversity he struck well into the
middle of the cover, and stumbled right upon the panther, which to his
no small dismay sprang from a bush only a few feet in front of him....
The brute suddenly appeared before us, going at a great rate through
the underbrush. As it flashed across a small open space we all took
snap shots, none of which took effect, and the animal dashed into a
deep ravine and disappeared.” Nothing now remained except to drive the
game; that is to say, post the guns at a point where the beast would
most probably attempt to break out, and cause the beaters to advance
towards it. This was done, the signal given, and “the perfect stillness
was instantly replaced by a wild shrieking, the rushing sound of
falling rocks, and a waving about of people and herbage as though the
whole mountain were about to slide into the valley beneath. No panther
could resist such a pressing invitation to move as this was, and our
friend accordingly started off at full gallop for other quarters,”
which he again reached without being hit, and presently the report came
that the game had taken refuge in a dense clump of cactus on top of the
hill. While messengers were despatched for rockets to drive it out, the
party agreed to take lunch, and the “tiffin basket” was placed on the
shady side of that impenetrable cover where the panther lay.
“For a few moments,” continues Colonel Barras, “we sat quite still.
Then it occurred to us to try and peep through into the centre of
the mass of cactus to see if we could make out the whereabouts of
its present occupant.... Not seeing anything, our thoughts reverted
naturally to the basket. There it stood, just on the other side of
Sandford. I stretched across him to reach it with my right hand, and
had just grasped the handle, when a succession of short, savage roars
broke upon my ears, mingled with the wild shouts of the natives, who
were evidently being chased by the ferocious brute. At this time I
felt that my hat would probably do more for me than my gun, so I
crushed the former down on my head, seized the latter, and faced the
enemy. The panther meanwhile had floored a beater and got him by the
arm, but dropping him at once, came at me with lightning bounds.
Owing to the beast’s tremendous speed, I could see nothing but a
shadowy-looking form, with two large, round, bright eyes fixed upon
me with an unmeaning stare as it literally flew towards me. Such was
the vision of a moment.... I raised my gun and fired with all the care
I could at such short notice, but I missed, and the panther bounded,
light as a feather, with its arms around my shoulders. Thus we stood
for a few seconds, and I distinctly felt the animal sniffing for my
throat. Mechanically I turned my head so as to keep the thick-wadded
cape of my helmet in front of the creature’s muzzle; but I could hear
and feel plainly the rapid yet cautious efforts it was making to find
an opening so as to tear the great vessels that lie in the neck. I had
no other weapon but my gun, which was useless while the animal was
closely embracing me, so I stood perfectly still, well knowing that
Sandford would liberate me if it were possible to do so.... As may be
supposed, the panther did not spend much time investigating the nature
of a wadded hat-cover, and before my friend could get round, and fire
without jeopardizing my life, the beast pounced upon my left elbow,
taking a piece out, and then buried its long, sharp fangs in the joint
till they met. At the same time I was hurled to the earth with such
violence that I knew not how I got there, or what had become of my gun.
I was lying on the ground with the panther on top of me, and could feel
my elbow joint wobbling in and out as the beast ground its jaws with a
movement imperceptible to the bystanders, but which felt to me as if I
were being violently shaken all over. Now I listened anxiously for the
sound of Sandford’s rifle, which I knew would be heard immediately,
and carefully refrained from making the slightest sound or movement,
lest his aim should be disturbed. In a few seconds the loud and welcome
detonation, which from its proximity almost deafened me, struck upon
my ear, and I sat up. I was free, and the panther had gone”--bounded
away shot through the body with a heavy rifle ball, into an acacia and
karinda thicket, from which it had to be driven by rockets.
“Just as the interior of the thicket became lighted up, and the
crackling of the herbage was at its loudest, the animal roused to
frenzy, by the overwhelming character of the attack, girded itself
up for a last desperate effort.... It rushed from its now untenable
hiding-place, swift and straight as an arrow upon Sandford and myself.
He fired both barrels at the beast without stopping it in the least.”
The Colonel, whose wounded arm had been bound up, now carried a hog
spear. “We had only time,” he says, “to open out one pace from each
other, and the momentum with which the animal was coming, almost
carried it past us. As it brushed my right leg, however, I saw it twist
its supple neck, and literally stop itself by clasping Sandford’s thigh
in its extended jaws, bearing him to the ground, where they lay for
a moment in a close embrace. I at once adjusted my spear behind the
animal’s shoulder, and with a steady thrust drove it straight through
the heart. Franks fired at the same instant, and it would be difficult
to say which of us caused the panther to give up his last breath. It
was dead though, yet it still retained the position it had in life, and
its teeth were so firmly locked in the flesh of its foe, that I could
not open the jaws with one hand--they felt like iron to the touch.”
There are a number of narratives of like import with this, but neither
in these, nor in the accounts we have of conflicts with other wild
beasts, has anything been said concerning the principle upon which
they fight. Briefly, no brute deliberately engages in conflict without
thinking that the advantage is altogether on its own side. They may be,
and often are, mistaken, but brutes never fight fairly with intention.
Only man does that, civilized not savage man, whose motives are such as
other creatures know nothing about.
Inglis (“Work and Sport on the Nepaul Frontier”) relates an experience
of his own with a leopard--it may as like as not have been what is here
called a panther--that includes a good many points which have been
touched upon,--the much talked of eye power, this brute’s instinctive
avoidance of man, etc.,--and it is therefore inserted by way of
illustration.
“I was camped out at the village of Purimdaha, on the edge of a gloomy
Sal forest, which was reported to contain numerous leopards. The
villagers were a mixed lot of low-caste Hindus and Nepaulese settlers.
They had been fighting with the factory, and would not pay up their
rents, and I was trying, with every prospect of success, to make an
amicable arrangement with them.... It was the middle of April. The heat
was intense. The whole atmosphere had that coppery look that betokens
extreme heat, and the air was loaded with a fine, yellow dust which
the west wind bore on its fever-laden wings, to disturb the lungs and
temper of all good Christians. The _Kanats_, or canvas walls of the
tent, had all been taken down for the sake of coolness, and my camp
bed lay in one corner, open all round to the outside air, and only
sheltered from the dew. It had been a busy day. I had been going over
accounts, and talking with the villagers until I was hoarse.
“After a light dinner I lay down on my bed, but it was too close and
too hot to sleep. By and by the various sounds died out. The tom-toming
ceased in the village. My servants suspended their low-muttered gossip
around the cook’s fire, wrapped themselves in their white cloths, and
dropped into slumber. Toby, Nettle, Whiskey, Pincher, and the other
terriers looked like so many curled-up hairy balls, and were in the
land of dreams. Occasionally a horned owl would give a melancholy hoot
from the forest, or a screech owl raise a momentary and damnable din.
At intervals the tinkle of a cow-bell sounded faintly in the distance.
I tossed restlessly, thinking of various things, till I must have sunk
into an uneasy, fitful sleep. I know not how long I had been dozing,
when of a sudden I felt myself wide awake, but with my eyes yet tightly
closed.
“I was conscious of some terrible, unknown, impending danger. I had
experienced the same thing before when waking from a nightmare, but I
knew that the peril was now real. I felt a sinking horror, a terrible
and nameless dread, and for the life of me I could not move hand or
foot. I was lying on my side and could hear distinctly the thumpings
of my own heart. A cold sweat broke out behind my ears, and over my
neck and chest. I could analyze every feeling, and knew there was some
_Presence_ in the tent, and that I was in instant and imminent danger.
Suddenly in the distance a pariah dog gave a prolonged melancholy howl.
As if this had broken the spell that bound me, I opened my eyes, and
within ten inches of my face there stood a handsome leopardess gazing
steadily at me. Our eyes met, and how long we confronted each other I
know not. It must have been for some moments. Her eyes contracted and
expanded, the pupils elongated, and then opened out into a lustrous
globe. I could see the lithe tail oscillating at its extreme tip with a
gentle waving motion, like that of a cat when hunting birds in a garden.
“Just then there was a movement among the horses. The leopard slowly
turned her head, and I grasped the revolver that lay under my pillow.
The beautiful spotted monster turned her head for an instant, showed
her teeth, and then with one bound went through the open side of the
tent. I fired two shots, which were answered with a roar. The din that
followed would have frightened the devil. It was a beautiful, clear
night with a moon at the full, and everything showed as plainly as at
noonday. My servants uttered exclamations of terror. The terriers went
into an agony of yelps and barks. The horses snorted and tried to break
loose, and my chowkeydar, who had been asleep on his watch, thinking
a band of Dacoits had come upon us, began to lay about him with his
staff, and shout, ‘_Chor! Chor! lagga! lagga! lagga!_’ that is, ‘thief!
thief! lay on! lay on! lay on!’
“The leopard was hit, and was evidently in a terrible temper. She
halted not thirty paces from the tent, beside a Shanum tree, and seemed
undecided whether to go on or return and wreak her vengeance on me.
That moment of hesitation decided her fate. I snatched down my Express
rifle, which was hanging in two loops above my bed, and shot her right
through the heart.
“I never understood how she could have made her way past dogs,
servants, horses, and watchman, into the tent, without raising some
alarm.”
Thus far, whether in courage, enterprise, and skill, whether in
sagacity, or desperation of attack and defence, nothing has been found
to traverse W. H. Lockington’s opinion (“Riverside Natural History”) to
the effect that panthers, “relatively to their size, are the fiercest,
strongest, and most terrible of beasts.”
In ancient Egypt and modern Abyssinia lions formed part of the royal
paraphernalia. Marabouts lead around sacred animals of this species
in North Africa, and if they occasionally kill somebody, the public
in those parts understand that he was a sinner who deserved his fate.
Leashed tigers also were not uncommon in the courts of Hindu rajahs,
but since the time of the Indian Bacchus, whose car they drew, panthers
have rarely appeared in parades. These savage brutes do not lend
themselves to peaceful pageants. From all accounts they are the most
intractable and untrustworthy of creatures--the least susceptible of
instruction, says Sanderson (“Thirteen Years among the Wild Beasts of
India”).
Panthers have often been seen associated in families, but they do
not display what Professor Romanes calls “the collective instinct
in hunting.” They can supply their needs without resorting to these
manœuvres, and therefore have not formed the habit of practising them.
It sometimes happens that _Felis pardus_ in all its forms has to
give up spoil. The lion takes its prey away, and so does the tiger.
Occasionally some blundering, black rhinoceros comes upon the scene
and puts the panther to flight, or a herd of wild hogs does the same.
_Kuon rutilans_, the wild dog, is reported to be in the habit of
appropriating their supplies, and J. Moray Brown (“Shikar Sketches”)
states that he had personal knowledge of this fact. Upon the whole,
however, the beast in question is not much molested.
Over-boldness is disadvantageous to any animal, and panthers suffer
from their temerity in the way of getting trapped more frequently than
other members of their family. General Morgan (“Memoirs”) remarks that
“it is a very common thing to catch a panther,” but nobody has said
the same of other _Felidæ_. The difficulty lies in comparing these
species so as to assign the phenomenon to its real cause. The question
is, how does it happen that a panther walks into a pit more frequently
than a tiger? It cannot be said that it is because the latter has
the more intelligence; facts do not sustain such an explanation, and
yet the absence of deliberation stands in a direct relation with
incompleteness of mental development.
It might be argued that the dissimilarity was due to temperament, and
that while neither could be absorbed by one idea--that of committing a
murder, for instance--without some temporary disregard of everything
else, the panther was more liable to this state of mind than its
relative. In ordinary parlance such a tendency would be called courage,
and its opposite timidity, although that is rather a loose manner of
speaking. However the truth may be, there is no doubt that a tiger will
often come up to a bait fixed over a pitfall, examine it carefully on
every side, and finally walk off with that pleasant grin of his, while
the panther precipitates himself into the cavity.
This beast is very partial to dog meat, and the canine population of
countries where panthers abound have an abiding fear of them. Sir
Samuel Baker (“The Rifle and Hound in Ceylon”) says that his dog
“Smut,” who weighed a hundred and thirty pounds, and was “a cross
between a Manilla bloodhound and some big bitch at the Cape,” made
a practice of hunting leopards on his own account. This was a very
unusual thing, however, since the largest breeds of the East, Poligar
dogs and Tibetan mastiffs, would certainly be at a great disadvantage
in such an encounter. While the latter was encamped upon the Settite
River, an Abyssinian tributary of the White Nile, one of these animals
sprang into the midst of a circle of men resting around a watch fire
and carried off a dog. To invade a hunters’ camp on this kind of an
errand is quite common with the panther, and many exploits of his under
such circumstances have been put on record. In India the villanous
pariahs that swarm in every village are his constant victims. If one
of them goes into the jungle, there is apt to be a momentary scuffle
in the dry grass, a stifled yelp, and the dog vanishes. So in rice
fields and around cattle camps where the Gwallas build their temporary
residences. Principally, however, the panther gets game of this
kind from permanent settlements infested with “curs of low degree.”
Panthers know them well, and act accordingly. During the night one
approaches the outskirts of a village and so far reveals his presence
as to show the dogs, who are always prowling about, that some strange
animal is near. Now they in turn are well aware of the tricks that
panthers play, but on the other hand can by no means resist their
ingrained propensity to make a display of courage, which they probably
possess in a less degree than any carnivora. As soon as these pariahs
discover something that conceals itself, the idea which naturally takes
possession of their minds is that this cautious conduct is due to a
fear of themselves. The pack instantly darts forward, and stops. These
brutes endeavor to get self-encouragement out of absurd antics; they
leap, they howl, they ramp and rave, until one of them, more excitable
than the rest, so far forgets itself as to approach the intruder too
closely. A shadowy form bounds upon it, and all is over.
If panthers were contented to kill these animals only, no reasonable
objection to their deeds could be made. Unfortunately this is not the
case; sheep, goats, pigs, horses, cattle, and their owners, all are
destroyed; and when some casualty more exasperating or tragic than
usual occurs, public opprobrium descends upon the hereditary huntsman
of the commune with true Asiatic violence and unreason. Is he, the
accursed, supported in ease and affluence in order to snore like a
swine while people and their property are thus devoured? Oh Ram! Ram!
Ram! May the choicest curses light upon him, may he be beset by all
devils whatsoever! Then the official, who is wholly blameless, and
except by accident cannot hope to do anything against a beast like
this, curses the panther, his fate, his fellow-citizens, and himself;
after which everybody forgets the matter.
No prudential reflections interfere with a panther’s singleness of
purpose when on the prowl. Blood is his object, and blood he intends
to have, so the upshot is that he often finds himself at the bottom of
a pit shaped like an inverted pyramid that it is impossible to dig out
of. What subsequently happens depends upon the demand for wild beasts.
If an agent of Jamrach’s has left an order for panthers, or some native
ruler signified his will that they be forthcoming immediately, the
captive’s life is safe. Men arrive in the morning with something that
looks like a magnified crate. It is inverted over the pit’s mouth,
earth is thrown in, the floor rises and with it the captive, until
the animal is forced into this temporary cage. Bamboo crosspieces are
then slipped under and secured, and very shortly he is _en route_. If
the destination be a zoölogical park or menagerie, it is said that
the beast will live longer and develop physically more completely
in captivity than it would in a state of freedom. This is, to say
the least, doubtful. Much might be advanced upon the subject, but
biological discussions are out of place here, and it is enough to point
out the fact that this opinion must be purely arbitrary, since no vital
statistics exist from which such a conclusion could be legitimately
drawn.
Returning to the subject of traps, they are not always constructed
alike. Besides excavations there are enclosures that must be entered
intentionally or not at all. These are made by driving palisades deep
in the earth, roofing them, and cutting a sliding door in the side.
It is connected with the bait by a string in such a manner as to drop
when this is touched. Tigers are seldom taken in by these inventions,
but the panther is frequently caught, especially if a live animal be
placed in the trap. How he reasons upon the unusual circumstances then
presented we do not know. Perhaps there is little or no deliberation
upon what he ought to do, and the brute merely acts in obedience to
its immediate impulses. But if we examine the behavior of panthers
that go into villages to kill men, in all instances of this kind the
animal’s conduct is marked by a union of skill and daring with cunning
and circumspection. What makes him lose his prudence in face of a trap?
Except himself, there is not a great cat in Asia that would not be apt
to see into this device and keep out of danger. The panther, however,
enters the enclosure. Such appears to be a fair statement of facts
relating to the brute’s character and habits in this connection, but no
attempt is made towards explaining them.
In certain parts of India panthers are netted. That is, nets are hung
about ten feet high behind which the hunters stand with spears. It is
not _jouer de rigueur_ to use rifles unless these defences are leaped.
In the event of the barrier being bounded over, the result to the
huntsmen depends greatly upon the way in which the beast attacks. Some
animals of this species have a curious habit, under such circumstances,
of trying to kill all their enemies at once. Much the same has been
said of tigers. Sir J. E. Alexander (“Expedition into Africa”) speaks
of the spotted cats of that country as flying about among a crowd of
enemies, striking first at one and then at another. In such a skirmish
nobody might be seriously injured. On the other hand, they cannot be
counted upon to act in this manner, and if, like Barras’ panther, one
singled out a particular man and fastened upon him, nothing, it is
likely, could save his life except prompt interference upon the part of
his companions.
With regard to its attack upon game, the mode in which this animal
takes its prey has been definitely settled in several different ways,
as is the case also in respect to the manner in which its prey is
eaten. Colonel Pollok (“Sport in British Burmah”) remarks that “there
is a peculiar and singular distinction, with regard to the mode of
breaking up their prey, between the tiger and the panther, the latter
invariably commencing upon the fore quarters or chest.” General
Shakespear, nevertheless, came unexpectedly upon a panther that had
just killed a cow in the Bootinaut correa, and it was feeding upon
one of the hind quarters, “a large piece of which had already been
consumed.” Colonel Barras and Captain Forsyth consider the throat to
be the part first fastened upon, Baker states that the body is at
once torn open to get at the viscera, and Inglis, Leveson, and others
explain that panthers suck the blood of their victims before anything
else.
Similar dogmatic opinions and exclusive views of the way in which a
panther or leopard kills game have been advanced. They are said to
break the neck with a blow of their forearm; and also never to do so,
not being able in the case of large animals, and with small ones this
being unnecessary. Some authorities maintain that the cervical vertebræ
are dislocated by twisting the head; others, that the head is bent
backward till the neck breaks.
Hon. W. H. Drummond (“Large Game and Natural History of South and
Southeast Africa”) says that “leopards and panthers are very numerous
in that country.” He likewise apparently regards these varieties as
distinct species, and writes about the “_ingwe_” or _Felis leopardus_,
the “_N’gulula_” or maned leopard, and _Felis pardus_, the true
panther, as if two of these, at least, belonged to different groups.