170 
ALMOST HUMAN 
instead of using his paint brush for the purpose. He had not rubbed 
one half the bar before the creature made a savage snap, and caught three 
of his fingers in his powerful jaws. Mr. Wilkie at once saw what a 
fearful predicament the man was in. Could the brute but get the hand 
further inside the bars it would be good-bye to the hand and perhaps 
to the arm as well. There was no unlocking those vyce-like teeth, so all 
that could be done was to grip the unfortunate man about the waist and 
pull as hard as he could be pulled in order that no further hold should 
be got by the beast, and that he would weary of the resultless struggle. 
For nearly a quarter of an hour that amazing and cruel tug-of-war went 
on, the two sides watching with desperate eagerness for the faintest 
sign of weakening in the opponent. On the one side were the two men 
straining all their powers to prevent the hysena from twisting the fingers 
to the side of his mouth in order to bite them completely off, or from 
gaining the slightest chance to draw a further fraction of the hand into 
the cage. The beast was sitting with his powerful forepaws strained 
fast against the iron bars, which, of course, gave him an additional lever- 
age upon the poor lacerated fingers, and was waiting for his opportunity 
to snap to greater advantage. Which would win? After what seemed 
an eternity to the man who was suffering tortures, and to the friend who 
was pulling, watching, and constantly speaking words of encouragement 
to endure, the beast somehow relaxed his hold for the fraction of a second. 
Before the hideous jaws could clamp down again upon the torn fingers, 
the two men had fallen back — victors! 
Terribly swollen, perfectly black, the fingers appeared to be hope- 
lessly mauled. When he was urged to go at once to seek surgical aid 
the keeper gasped: “I’m — all — right!” and he proved the assertion by 
immediately falling back into Mr. Wilkie’s arms in a deep and obstinate 
faint. The bones had to be removed from the fingers by the surgeons, 
and the winner of the fight has ever since carried a badly mutilated hand 
as the result of that most extraordinary trial of strength. 
When Mr. Ellis Josephs was happily engaged in the congenial task 
of making love to his old pet that Sunday he called to the hero of this 
struggle and asked him to be a third in the mutual admiration society. 
“Say, Jack,” he cried cheerily, “take a turn with me!” 
But “Jack” shook his head. 
“No,” he said, “I petted a hyaena once, and once is enough in one life- 
time.” 
