214 CHILDHOOD OF ANIMALS 



would wake me up to be let out by patting my face, there was no 

 change in its behaviour at night or in the day. 



We have all been familiar since we were children with the story 

 of the English officer in India who had brought up a young tiger 

 as a pet. One evening, when the tiger, now nearly full grown, 

 was lying by the side of his master, who was taking his ease in his 

 arm-chair, the faithful servant saw with horror that there was 

 a little trickle of blood from the hand of his master, and that the 

 tiger was eagerly licking it. Knowing that the first taste of blood 

 would arouse all the savage instincts of the animal, and that presently 

 his master would be devoured, the servant rushed for a rifle, and, 

 creeping up cautiously to the tiger, shot it through the heart. We 

 have all read the story, and most of us have been told it many times 

 by retired Anglo-Indians to whose intimate friends it had occurred, 

 but whose lives were fortunately spared to bear witness to other 

 familiar stories of the East. Young carnivores in this country are 

 not in the least excited by human blood. Long before they are 

 full grown they have become accustomed to the taste of fresh 

 blood, for there is no better occasional food for them than a freshly 

 killed sparrow, pigeon or young rabbit, according to their size. 

 When my own hand has been bleeding from an unlucky scratch 

 (and it may bleed a good deal) I have offered it again and again 

 to my young carnivorous friends, and they are not in the least 

 excited. They much prefer milk. 



Young seals, sea-lions and walruses are extremely easy to tame. 

 It is quite certain that they remain with their mothers for a long 

 time and are very fond of companionship. As those that arrive 

 at the Zoological Gardens are generally young animals which have 

 recently been taken from their mothers, at first they mope very 

 much, and it is extremely difficult to induce them to eat or to be 

 consoled. It is curious that the seals which have most experience 

 of man, such as the grey seal and the common seal, seem to have 

 almost an inherited fear of him, and although they can be tamed, 

 do not settle down so quickly, and not infrequently pine and die. 

 Seals from remoter waters, such as the elephant seal from the 

 South Indian Ocean, the sea-lions from Africa, Patagonia and 

 California, and the walruses from the icy seas of the North become 

 reconciled to captivity almost at once. A similar difference between 

 the wild animals of civilised and populous countries and those of 

 remoter regions exists in many other cases. Fear of man is no 

 special instinct of animals ; those that have little acquaintance 



