COCK-FIGHTING 51 



of the creatures and their curious antics and devices while in 

 combat. All the eager fondness for war which had possessed 

 me from five to twelve years of age, was at fourteen narrowed 

 down to a delight in the capers of these cocks with blunted 

 spurs. I remember being curious to find whether the creatures 

 learned their art and acquired their combative motive from 

 their elders. As an experiment I hatched one of them of a 

 famous stock artificially, and brought him up "by hand," so 

 that he did not have a chance to mingle with his kind until he 

 was grown. I then turned him with his natural possession of 

 spurs, which were keen instruments, into the above-mentioned 

 barnyard, where there were a dozen males of his species of the 

 ordinary degenerate breeds, bred for size and fecundity, as well 

 as two male turkeys, a Muscovy drake and some ganders. It 

 was but a moment before he was in battle with his natural ene- 

 mies; these cocks he speedily dealt with; they seemed confused 

 by his swiftness, and would soon turn tail: he easily daunted 

 the drakes and ganders, but the turkey gobblers troubled him 

 sorely. The last of his tasks and the most difficult was a very 

 large white gobbler who, when attacked, would catch his small 

 antagonist wherever it was convenient, oftenest by what was 

 left of his comb, and carry him dangling in the air. For protec- 

 tion the cock invented a curious manoeuvre : after each assault 

 with his blow of spurs, he would move between the turkey's 

 legs, hide his head in his feathers, and stay thus havened until 

 he had regained breath and strength for another stroke. With 

 leaps or short runs the turkey would try to have him out, but 

 most dexterously would he manage to keep thus sheltered until 

 again ready for an assault. The device was successful, so that 

 in a few days the best adversary was fairly routed, and the little 

 warrior was cock of the walk. I distinctly remember his forlorn 

 appearance at the end of the hard campaign: he was almost 

 stripped of feathers except those of the wings, his comb and 

 wattles were gone, he had lost one eye, but the trumpet crow 

 and the Scherer stride were still his. 



