•72 



THE CAT TRIBE. 



but in the tenth century of our era the do- 

 mestic cat was still so rare, that it was re- 

 garded in England as an animal of great 

 value, with regard to which the laws named 

 certain defects which made a sale invalid, just 

 as at present in the case of horses. Man has 



formed various races, but since the cat has 

 always preserved a certain independence in 

 the gratification of its sexual instincts, these 

 races are much less numerous and less diver- 

 gent from one another than those of other 

 domestic animals. 



!■ allow I, .at 



The Wild Cat [Felis catus), fig. 78, of our 

 part of the world is much larger and stronger 

 than the domestic cat. The head is relatively 

 thicker and larger, the body more powerful, 

 the tail shorter, the fur thicker, the teeth 

 sharper. The fur has a grayish-yellow ground 

 with black stripes, which are specially well 

 marked on the head, back, sides, and very 

 bushy tail. The legs are short, the paws 

 very strong and broad. 



It is essentially a European animal, which 

 scarcely crosses the Caucasus, but is found 

 everywhere in dense forests as far as the 

 limit of trees. Decidedly nocturnal in its 

 habits it spends the day in holes in trees or 

 hidden among the foliage in tree-tops, some- 

 times in clefts among the rocks, often even 

 in the deserted hole of the fox or badger. 

 On the approach of night it leaves its place 



of concealment and betakes itself to its soli- 

 tary hunt. It is only during the season of 

 heat that a pair may sometimes be seen to- 

 gether. This season passed, the sexes hunt 

 separately. All the hair-clad and feathered 

 denizens of the woods, from the young roe- 

 deer to the mouse, from the eaglet to the 

 thrush and wren, become the prey of this 

 fierce hunter, who combines strength with 

 agility, boldness with cunning. The wild 

 cat is a tiger on a small scale. It approaches 

 noiselessly, makes a great spring to seize its 

 victim, but does not pursue, and always turns 

 back ashamed when it has missed its aim. 

 It knows very well the habitual resorts of its 

 game, where to lie in wait, and patiently ex- 

 pect the hare as it comes from the wood to 

 pay a visit to a neighbouring field. I have 

 myself shot in the Odenwald a wild tom-cat 



