172 BIRD HAUNTS AND NATURE MEMORIES 



The cat, on the other hand, is seldom trained to hunt 

 for man ; its inclination is to destroy ; it hunts for its own 

 pleasure and profit. A desire for warm blood persists, 

 and however well the domestic pet is fed it generally 

 devours some portion of its prey. Much of the play of 

 puppies and kittens, as indeed that of all juvenile animals, 

 is "make-belief" of sport; the mock hunt is far more 

 marked than the mock sexual fight or amour. We, too, 

 are but domesticated wild animals; we have ceased to kill 

 to supply daily need, but have not lost the hunting spirit. 

 The boy who stones a cat or biid or hammers a toad to 

 death is only allowing freedom to his inherent savage 

 inclinations. Let us not judge him harshly, but deliver 

 a salutary moral lesson for preference with a stick. 

 " Much teaching," declared Canon Lyttelton, " is needed 

 to make children learn what cruelty means, and sometimes 

 a practical application of lex talionis is necessary." 



Whilst actually writing the above paragraph I was 

 called into the garden to interview a neighbour's tabby; 

 it had struck down and was tormenting a hen blackbird. 

 That cat is well fed, and it did not require a meal ; the cat 

 was sitting close by the terrorised and wounded victim, 

 which had energy sufficient to flutter away, but dare 

 not move The cat was waiting for it to attempt to 

 escape, when it would have stopped it just when the bird 

 imagined that it was free. Though perfectly aware that 

 the habit of playing with the victim is natural, I object 

 to my garden being converted into a Spanish arena or a 

 torture chamber, but I found the unfortunate so mauled 

 that I ended its miseries. Nevertheless it was an interest- 

 ing example of feline instinct; the wild carnivore was 

 there, had hunted for sport, and was killing slowly for its 

 own gratification. Can we justly say that the cat was 

 cruel ? Is it not fairer to call it primitive, savage, and 

 realise how wonderfully, in spite of all our softening, 



