THE
TOWER MENAGERIE.

THE
TOWER MENAGERIE:

COMPRISING
THE NATURAL HISTORY
OF THE
ANIMALS CONTAINED IN THAT ESTABLISHMENT;
WITH
Anecdotes of their Characters and History.

ILLUSTRATED BY
PORTRAITS OF EACH, TAKEN FROM LIFE, BY WILLIAM HARVEY;
AND ENGRAVED ON WOOD BY BRANSTON AND WRIGHT.

LONDON:
PRINTED FOR ROBERT JENNINGS, POULTRY;
AND SOLD BY W. F. WAKEMAN, DUBLIN.
M DCCC XXIX.

CHISWICK:
PRINTED BY CHARLES WHITTINGHAM
COLLEGE HOUSE.

TO
HIS MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTY
KING GEORGE THE FOURTH,
THE
MUNIFICENT PATRON OF THE ARTS AND SCIENCES,

This Volume,

IN WHICH IT IS ATTEMPTED TO COMBINE BOTH ART AND SCIENCE
IN THE
ILLUSTRATION OF HIS ROYAL MENAGERIE,
IS,
BY HIS MAJESTY’S MOST GRACIOUS PERMISSION,
HUMBLY INSCRIBED.

CONTENTS.

INTRODUCTION.

The origin of Menageries dates from the most remote antiquity. Their existence may be traced even in the obscure traditions of the fabulous ages, when the contests of the barbarian leader with his fellow-men were relieved by exploits in the chase scarcely less adventurous, and when the monster-queller was held in equal estimation with the warrior-chief. The spoils of the chase were treasured up in common with the trophies of the fight; and the captive brute occupied his station by the side of the vanquished hero. It was soon discovered that the den and the dungeon were not the only places in which this link of connexion might be advantageously preserved, and the strength and ferocity of the forest beast were found to be available as useful auxiliaries even in the battle-field. The only difficulty to be surmounted in the application of this new species of brute force to the rude conflicts of the times consisted in giving to it the wished-for direction; and for this purpose it was necessary that the animals to be so employed should be confined in what may be considered as a kind of Menagerie, there to be rendered subservient to the control, and obedient to the commands, of their masters.

In the theology too of these dark ages many animals occupied a distinguished place, and were not only venerated in their own proper persons, on account of their size, their power, their uncouth figure, their resemblance to man, or their supposed qualities and influence, but were also looked upon as sacred to one or other of the interminable catalogue of divinities, to whose service they were devoted, and on whose altars they were sacrificed. For these also Menageries must have been constructed, in which not only their physical peculiarities but even their moral qualities must have been to a certain extent studied; although the passions and prejudices of the multitude would naturally corrupt the sources of information thus opened to them, by the intermixture of exaggerated perversions of ill observed facts and by the addition of altogether imaginary fables.

If to these two kinds of Menageries we add that which has every where and under all circumstances accompanied the first dawn of civilization, and which constitutes the distinguishing characteristic of man emerging from a state of barbarism and entering upon a new and social state of existence, the possession of flocks and herds, of animals useful in his domestic economy, serviceable in the chase, and capable of sharing in his daily toils, a tolerable idea may be formed of the collections which were brought together in the earliest ages, and were more or less the subjects of study to a race of men who were careless of every thing that had no immediate bearing upon their feelings, their passions, or their interests.

But as civilization advanced, and the progress of society favoured the developement of mind, when those who were no longer compelled by necessity to labour for their daily bread found leisure to look abroad with expanded views upon the wonders of the creation, the animal kingdom presented new attractions and awakened ideas which had before lain dormant. What was at first a mere sentiment of curiosity became speedily a love of science; known objects were examined with more minute attention; and whatever was rare or novel was no longer regarded with a stupid stare of astonishment and an exaggerated expression of wonder, but became the object of careful investigation and philosophic meditation. Such was the state of things in civilized Greece when the Macedonian conqueror carried his victorious arms to the banks of the Indus, and penetrated into countries, not altogether unknown to Europeans, but the natural productions of which were almost entirely new to the philosophers of the West. With the true spirit of a man of genius, whose sagacity nothing could escape, and whose views of policy were as profound as the success of his arms was splendid, Alexander omitted no opportunity of proving his devotion to the cause of science; and the extensive collections of rare and unknown animals which he transmitted to his old tutor and friend, in other words the Menagerie which he formed, laid the foundation of the greatest, the most extensive, and the most original work on zoology that has ever been given to the world. The first of moral philosophers did not disdain to become the historian of the brute creation, and Aristotle’s History of Animals remains a splendid and imperishable record of his qualifications for the task.

Very different were the feelings by which the Roman generals and people were swayed even in their most civilized times and at the height of their unequalled power. Through all the gloss which history has thrown over the character of these masters of the universe there appears a spirit of unreclaimed barbarity which was never entirely shaken off. From the scenes of their distant conquests their prætors sent to the metropolis of the world bears and lions and leopards and tigers; but a love of science had no share in the motives for the gratification of which they were transmitted, and the chief curiosity manifested on such occasions by the people of Rome was to ascertain how speedily hundreds or thousands, as the case might happen, of these ferocious beasts would destroy each other when turned out half-famished into the public amphitheatre, or how long a band of African slaves, of condemned criminals, or of hired gladiators, would be able to maintain the unequal contest against them. The consul or emperor who exhibited at one time the greatest number of animals to be thus tortured before the eyes of equally brutal spectators was held in the highest esteem among a people who regarded themselves as civilized, and whose chief delight was in witnessing these wanton effusions of blood. It was only under the later Cæsars that a few private individuals brought together in their vivaria a considerable number of rare and curious animals; and the Natural History of Pliny derives most of its zoological value from the opportunities which he had of consulting these collections. But the monstrous fables and the innumerable errors, which the most superficial examination would have taught him to correct, with which every page of this vast compilation absolutely teems, speak volumes with regard to the wretched state of natural science in the most splendid days of Roman greatness.

From the unsuspecting credulity with which this textbook of the naturalists of the middle ages continued to be received, it is evident that the science remained stationary, if it did not actually retrograde, during the lapse of fourteen or fifteen centuries. The want of opportunities of investigation may be regarded as the principal cause of this lamentable deficiency. Some of the rarer animals, it is true, were occasionally to be seen in Europe; but Menageries constructed upon a broad and comprehensive plan were as yet unknown. The first establishment of modern days, in which such a plan can fairly be said to have been realised, was the Menagerie founded at Versailles by Louis the Fourteenth. It is to this institution that we owe the Natural History of Buffon and his coadjutor Daubenton; the one as eloquent as Pliny, with little of his credulity, but with a greater share of imagination; and the other a worthy follower of Aristotle in his habits of minute research and patient investigation, but making no pretensions to the powerful and comprehensive mind and the admirable facility of generalising his ideas which so preeminently distinguished that great philosopher.

Of the characters of most of the institutions which we have noticed the Tower Menagerie has at various times partaken in a greater or less degree. Originally intended merely for the safe-keeping of those ferocious beasts, which were until within the last century considered as appertaining exclusively to the royal prerogative, it has occasionally been converted into a theatre for their contests, and has terminated by adapting itself to the present condition of society as a source of rational amusement and a school of zoological science.

The first notice of a Royal Menagerie in England places this establishment at Woodstock, where King Henry the First had a collection of lions, leopards, and other strange beasts. Three leopards were presented to Henry the Third by the Emperor Frederic the Second, himself a zoologist of no mean rank. From Woodstock they were transferred to the Tower; and numerous orders issued in this and the succeeding reigns to the sheriffs of London and of the counties of Bedford and Buckingham to provide for the maintenance of the animals and their keepers are extant among the Records. Thus in the year 1252 the sheriffs of London were commanded to pay four pence a day for the maintenance of a white bear; and in the following year to provide a muzzle and chain to hold the said bear while fishing, or washing himself, in the river Thames. In 1255 they were directed to build a house in the Tower for an elephant which had been presented to the king by Louis king of France; and a second writ occurs in which they were ordered to provide necessaries for him and his keepers.

From various orders during the reigns of Edward the First, Second, and Third, we learn that the allowance for each lion or leopard was six pence a day, and the wages of their keeper three halfpence. At later periods the office of keeper of the lions was held by some person of quality about the king, with a fee of six pence a day for himself, and the same for every lion or leopard under his charge. On these terms it was granted by King Henry the Sixth, first to Robert Mansfield, Esq. marshal of his hall, and afterwards to Thomas Rookes, his dapifer. It was not unfrequently held by the lieutenant or constable of the Tower himself, on the condition of his providing a sufficient deputy. There was also another office in the royal household somewhat resembling this in name, that of master, guider, and ruler of the king’s bears and apes; but the latter animals appear to have been kept solely for the royal “game and pleasure.”

During all this period, and even almost down to our own times, the common phrase of “seeing the lions” in the Tower appears to have been almost literally correct, for we seldom hear of any other animals confined there than lions or leopards. Howel tells us in his Londinopolis, published in 1657, that there were then six lions in the Tower, and makes no allusion to any other animals as being at that time contained in it. In 1708 some improvement had taken place; for there were then, according to Strype, no fewer than eleven lions, two leopards or tigers (the worthy historian, it seems, knew not which), three eagles, two owls, two cats of the mountain, and a jackal. Maitland gives a much longer catalogue as existing there in 1754; and this is still further extended in a little pamphlet entitled “An Historical Description of the Tower of London and its Curiosities,” published in 1774. After this time, however, the collection had been so greatly diminished both in value and extent, that in the year 1822, when Mr. Alfred Cops, the present keeper, succeeded to the office, the whole stock of the Menagerie consisted of the grizzly bear, an elephant, and one or two birds. How rapidly and how extensively the collection has increased under his superintendence will best be seen by a reference to the numerous and interesting animals whose natural history forms the subject of the present work. By his spirited and judicious exertions the empty dens have been filled, and new ones have been constructed; and the whole of them being now kept constantly tenanted, the Menagerie affords a really interesting and attractive spectacle to the numerous visiters who are drawn thither either from motives of curiosity or by a love of science.

Such is a brief outline of the history up to the present period of the establishment known as the Tower Menagerie. Of the animals contained in it during the summer of 1828, and of two others which had then recently died, the succeeding pages offer delineations, descriptions, and anecdotes. Among so numerous a collection of inhabitants, of such dissimilar habits, and brought together into one spot from such distant and various climes, some changes have almost necessarily taken place even while our work has been passing through the press; yet so excellent is the management of Mr. Cops, especially as regards cleanliness, that essential security of animal health, that not a single death has occurred from disease, and one only from an accidental cause: the secretary bird, having incautiously introduced its long neck into the den of the hyæna, was deprived of it and of its head at one bite. Other removals are owing to the spirit of commerce. The Cape lion, the chetahs, the Thibet bear, and the deep-blue macaw, have passed into foreign hands, and are now on the continent of Europe. Two of the wolves and one of the Javanese civets have been transferred to the Zoological Society; and the white antelope has also exchanged its habitation in the Tower for the delightful Garden created by that Society in the Regent’s Park.

With the exceptions which have just been enumerated the whole of the animals which are here figured and described are actually living in the Tower Menagerie. Their continuance there affords a test of the fidelity of our work which could not be applied to any production on zoology that has yet appeared in this country, nor, to an equal extent, in any other. As a visit to the Menagerie will enable the reader at once to compare our representations and descriptions with their living prototypes, the imperative necessity of scrupulous accuracy has been deeply impressed throughout the whole undertaking on the minds of those who have been engaged in its completion. In this, it is trusted, they have fully succeeded. To explain the share which each has taken in the work, and to record a debt of gratitude to those kind friends who have assisted in it, is the pleasing duty which it now remains to fulfil.

The whole of the drawings are from the pencil of Mr. William Harvey, who, in seizing faithful and characteristic portraits of animals in restless and almost incessant motion, has succeeded in overcoming difficulties which can only be appreciated by those who have attempted similar delineations. In the portraits he has strictly confined himself to the chastity of truth; but in the vignettes, which have always some reference to the subject of the article which they conclude, he has occasionally held himself at liberty to give full scope to his imagination.

The engravings have been executed throughout by Messrs. Branston and Wright. Determined on securing the accuracy of the representations, they have in every instance compared the proofs with the animals, and have made corrections where necessary until the resemblance has been rendered perfect. In one case alone has a deviation from the original been indulged in: the tail of the ocelot has been figured of the length usual in the species, instead of the truncated state in which it exists in the specimen; the markings of the animal are, however, as noticed in its article, accurately represented.

The literary department has been superintended by E. T. Bennett, Esq. F.L.S., an active member of the Zoological Society, who has arranged for the press the whole of the materials collected from various and authentic sources. To John Bayley, Esq. F.R. and A.S. M.R.I.A. &c. he is indebted for several suggestions in addition to the information contained in that gentleman’s valuable work, “The History and Antiquities of the Tower of London.” To Mr. Alfred Cops, the present Keeper of the Lions, whose meritorious exertions for the increase and improvement of the Menagerie have been already adverted to, he has also to tender his thanks and those of his coadjutors for the facilities constantly afforded to them in the most ready and obliging manner, and for much valuable information relative to the history and habits of the animals.

But especially are his best thanks due for numerous suggestions and much valuable assistance to his friend N. A. Vigors, Esq. A.M. F.R. and L.S., the zealous and talented Secretary of the Zoological Society. To that distinguished zoologist, whose extensive and intimate acquaintance with the animal kingdom at large, and particularly with its feathered tribes, is universally acknowledged, and to other leading Members of the Society to which he devotes his talents and his time, a work like the present appeared not ill adapted to advance the good cause in which they are engaged, the diffusion of knowledge. Under their auspices it was commenced, by their countenance it has been fostered, and it is with the sanction of their approval that it is now submitted to the public eye.

London, Nov. 1828.

THE BENGAL LION.

Felis Leo. Linn.—Var. Bengalensis.

First in majesty as in might, the monarch of the brute creation asserts an undisputed claim to occupy the foremost place in our delineation of the inhabitants of this Royal Menagerie. Who is there to whom his stately mien, his unequalled strength, his tremendous powers of destruction, combined with the ideas generally entertained of his dauntless courage, his grateful affection, and his merciful forbearance, are not familiar “as household words?” When we speak of a Lion, we call up to our imaginations the splendid picture of might unmingled with ferocity, of courage undebased by guile, of dignity tempered with grace and ennobled by generosity; in a word, of all that combination of brilliant qualities, the imputation of which, by writers of all ages, has placed him by universal consent above other beasts, and invested him with regal attributes.

Such, indeed, is the outline which we have been taught to frame to ourselves of this noble animal; and beautifully has this imaginary sketch, for such in a great measure it will be found on closer examination, been filled up by the magic pencil of Buffon, who, in this, as in too many other instances, suffered himself to be borne along by the strong tide of popular opinion. Yielding to the current, instead of boldly stemming it, he has added the weighty sanction of his authority to those erroneous notions which were already consecrated by their antiquity, and has produced a history of the Lion, which, however true in its main facts, and however eloquent in its details, is, to say the least, highly exaggerated and delusive in its colouring. The Lion of Buffon is, in fact, the Lion of popular prejudice; it is not the Lion, such as he appears to the calm observer, nor such as he is delineated in the authentic accounts of those naturalists and travellers who have had the best means of observing his habits, and recording the facts of which they have been themselves eye witnesses.

The Lion, like all the other cats (the genus to which, in a natural arrangement, he obviously belongs) is armed in each jaw with six strong and exceedingly sharp cutting-teeth, with two formidable canine, and with six others, three on each side, occupying the places of the molar or grinding-teeth, but terminating in sharp protuberances to assist in the laceration of the animal food, which is the proper nutriment of his tribe. Besides these, he has, on each side of the upper jaw, a small tooth, or rather tubercle, placed immediately behind the rest. His tongue is covered with innumerable rough and elevated papillæ, the points of which are directed backwards: these also assist in comminuting his food, and not unfrequently leave their traces on the hand which has been offered him to lick. His claws, five in number on the fore feet, and four on the hind, are of great length, extremely hard, and much curved; they are retractile within a sheath enclosed in the skin which covers the extremity of his paws; and as they are only exposed when he has occasion to make use of them, they thus preserve the sharpness of their edge and the acuteness of their point unimpaired. In all these particulars the Lion essentially agrees with the rest of the cats; and it is these which constitute what naturalists have termed their generic character; in other words, they are the points of agreement which are common to the whole group or genus, and form the most prominent and striking characteristics, by which they may be at once connected together and separated from all other animals.

The Lion is distinguished from other cats by the uniformity of his colour, which is pale tawny above, becoming somewhat lighter beneath, and never, except in his young state, exhibiting the least appearance of spots or stripes: by the long and flowing mane of the adult male, which, originating nearly as far forward as the root of his nose, extends backwards over his shoulders, and descends in graceful undulations on each side of his neck and face; and by the tuft of long and blackish hairs which terminates his powerful tail. These constitute what is termed his specific character, or that which is peculiar to the species or race; connecting the individuals together by marks common to them all, and at the same time separating them from the other animals of the same group or genus.

In his moral and intellectual faculties, as well as in his external and physical characters, the Lion exhibits a close agreement with the strikingly distinct and well marked group to which he belongs, and of which he is unquestionably the first in rank and importance: and perhaps the most effectual means of guarding against the general prejudice, which has delighted in exalting him at the expense of his fellow beasts, will be found in the recollection that, both physically and morally, he is neither more nor less than a cat, of immense size and corresponding power it is true, but not on that account the less endowed with all the guileful and vindictive passions of that faithless tribe. His courage is proverbial: this, however, is not derived from any peculiar nobility of soul, but arises from the blind confidence inspired by a consciousness of his own superior powers, with which he is well aware that none of the inferior animals can successfully compete. Placed in the midst of arid deserts, where the fleet but timid antelope, and the cunning but powerless monkey fall his easy and unresisting prey; or roaming through the dense forests and scarcely penetrable jungles, where the elephant and the buffalo find in their unwieldy bulk and massive strength no adequate protection against the impetuous agility and fierce determination of his attacks, he sways an almost undisputed sceptre, and stalks boldly forth in fearless majesty. But change the scene, and view him in the neighbourhood of populous towns, or even near the habitations of uncultivated savages, and it will then be seen that he recognises his master, and crouches to the power of a superior being. Here he no longer shows himself openly in the proud consciousness of his native dignity, but skulks in the deepest recesses of the forest, cautiously watches his opportunities, and lies in treacherous ambush for the approach of his unwary prey. It is this innate feeling of his incapacity openly to resist the power of man, that renders him so docile in captivity, and gives him that air of mild tranquillity, which, together with the dignified majesty of his deportment, has unquestionably contributed not a little towards the general impression of his amiable qualities.

His forbearance and generosity, if the facts be carefully investigated, will be found to resolve themselves into no more than this: that in his wild state he destroys only to satiate his hunger or revenge, and never, like the “gaunt wolves,” and “sullen tigers,” of whom the poet has composed his train, in the wantonness of his power and the malignity of his disposition; and that, when tamed, his hunger being satisfied and his feelings being free from irritation, he suffers smaller animals to remain in his den uninjured, is familiar with, and sometimes fond of, the keeper by whom he is attended and fed, and will even, when under complete control, submit to the caresses of strangers.

But even this limited degree of amiability, which, in an animal of less formidable powers, would be considered as indicating no peculiar mildness of temper, is modified by the calls of hunger, by the feelings of revenge, which he frequently cherishes for a considerable length of time, and by various other circumstances which render it dangerous to approach him unguardedly, even in his tamest and most domesticated state, without previously ascertaining his immediate state of mind. On such occasions no keeper possessed of common prudence would be rash enough to venture upon confronting him: he knows too well that it is no boy’s play to

… seek the Lion in his den,

And fright him there, and make him tremble there;

for in this state of irritation, from whatever cause it may have arisen, he gives free scope to his natural ferocity, unrestrained by that control to which at other times he submits with meek and unresisting patience.

Happily for mankind the range of this tremendous animal is limited to the warmer climates of the earth; and even in these the extent of that range is constantly becoming more and more confined by the spread of human civilization, which, at the same time that it drives him to take refuge at a distance from the haunts of men, contributes greatly to thin his numbers and to diminish his power of annoyance. His true country is Africa, in the vast and untrodden wilds of which, from the immense deserts of the north to the trackless forests of the south, he reigns supreme and uncontrolled. In the sandy deserts of Arabia, in some of the wilder districts of Persia, and in the vast jungles of Hindostan, he still maintains a precarious footing: but from the classic soil of Greece, as well as from the whole of Asia Minor, both of which were once exposed to his ravages, he has been utterly dislodged and extirpated.

There is some variation in the different races of Lions from these distant localities; but this is by no means of sufficient importance to establish a distinction between them. The Asiatic Lion, of which we are now treating, seldom attains a size equal to that of the full-grown Southern African; its colour is a more uniform and paler yellow throughout; and its mane is, in general, fuller and more complete, being furnished moreover with a peculiar appendage in the long hairs, which, commencing beneath the neck, occupy the whole of the middle line of the body below. All these distinctions are, however, modified by age, and vary in different individuals. Their habits are in essential particulars the same: we shall therefore defer what we have farther to say on this head until we come to speak of the Cape Lion, and proceed to the history of the Asiatic individual now exhibiting in this Menagerie, a striking likeness of which is given in the engraving at the head of the present article.

This fine animal, although called by the keepers “the Old Lion,” is, in reality, little more than five years old; and that designation was adopted only for the purpose of distinguishing him from the Cape Lion, a comparatively modern resident of the Menagerie. His proper name, or rather that by which he has been known ever since his arrival at the Tower, is George. The following anecdotes relative to the mode of his capture, and to his habits and demeanour in his captivity, are given on the authority of Mr. Cops, who derived his information on the first point from General Watson himself, and speaks to the rest from his personal observation.

It was in the commencement of the year 1823, when the General was on service in Bengal, that being out one morning on horseback, armed with a double-barrelled rifle, he was suddenly surprised by a large male Lion, which bounded out upon him from the thick jungle at the distance of only a few yards. He instantly fired, and, the shot taking complete effect, the animal fell dead almost at his feet. No sooner was this formidable foe thus disposed of than a second, equally terrible, made her appearance in the person of the Lioness, whom the General also shot at and wounded so dangerously that she retreated into the thicket. As her following so immediately in the footsteps of her mate afforded strong grounds for suspecting that their den could not be far distant, he determined upon pursuing the adventure to the end, and traced her to her retreat, where he completed the work of her destruction, by again discharging the contents of one of the barrels of his rifle, which he had reloaded for the purpose. In the den were found a beautiful pair of cubs, male and female, supposed to be then not more than three days old. These the General brought away with him, and succeeded by the assistance of a goat, who was prevailed upon to act in the capacity of foster-mother to the royal pair, in rearing them until they attained sufficient age and strength to enable them to bear the voyage to England. On their arrival in this country, in September, 1823, he presented them to his Majesty, who commanded them to be placed in the Tower. The male of this pair is the subject of the present, the female that of the succeeding article.

The extreme youth of these Lions at the time of their capture, and the constant control to which they had been accustomed from that early period of their existence, rendered them peculiarly tame and docile, insomuch that, for twelve months after their arrival, they were frequently suffered to walk in the open yard among the visitors, who caressed them and played with them with impunity. The Duke of Sussex, in particular, was highly delighted with the unusual spectacle of a Lion and a Lioness bounding about him at perfect liberty, and with all their natural grace and agility. It must, however, be observed that they were not then fully grown, and that it was afterwards thought necessary to place them under greater restraint; but more with the view of guarding against possible mischief, than in consequence of any positive symptoms of rebellion. Of the change which has taken place in the character of the female, we shall have occasion to speak hereafter: the male still continues perfectly docile, and suffers himself to be treated with the greatest familiarity by his keepers and those to whom he is accustomed.

Like all the other carnivorous animals in the Menagerie, he is fed but once in the twenty-four hours; and his meal usually consists of a piece of beef, of eight or nine pounds weight, exclusive of bone. This he seizes with avidity, tears it to pieces instantly with his claws, and ravenously devours it; contrary to the usual custom of his fellow lions in a state of nature, who are said generally to remain for a considerable time after they have struck the fatal blow, before proceeding to glut their appetite with the flesh and blood of their victim. This awful pause of suspense may, however, under such circumstances, be attributable to an instinctive desire completely to finish their work, or at least to preclude the possibility of resistance, prior to removing from the body of their prostrate prey the weapon with which his destruction has been inflicted.

It has been generally remarked, that lions in captivity have certain constant and stated times for roaring: this observation is not, however, strictly true with regard to those now in the Tower. It may nevertheless be observed that in the summer time, especially when the atmospheric temperature is considerable, they uniformly commence roaring about dawn, one of them taking the lead, and the others joining in the concert in succession; and Mr. Cops has frequently had occasion to remark that whenever any one of them fails in accompanying the rest in their by no means harmonious performance, the cessation from the customary roar is an infallible symptom of actual or approaching illness. At no other time is there that regularity in their roaring which has been so frequently stated; although the chorus which has just been described is sometimes repeated after feeding, and also when they have been left alone for any length of time; hence it occurs particularly on Sundays, a day on which they have no company except from the occasional visits of the keepers.

THE LIONESS AND HER CUBS.

Strikingly distinguished at the first glance from her royal mate by the absence of the flowing honours of the mane, which invest him with an air of superior dignity and gravity, the Lioness is also remarkable for her smaller size, her more slender and delicate make, and the superior grace and agility of her movements. Her inferiority in muscular strength to the Lion, and to him alone, is, however, fully compensated by the greater liveliness of her disposition, the unrestrained ardour of her passions, and the vigorous impetuosity of her motions, which all contribute to render her an equally formidable opponent with her more powerful, but less irritable, lord. They differ also in another obvious characteristic, the habitual position and direction of their heads, that of the Lion being almost uniformly elevated and thrown upwards with an air of mingled frankness and hauteur, agreeing well with the popular notions of his tranquil dignity of temper and deportment; while the Lioness as constantly carries her head on a level with the line of her back, thus giving to her otherwise expressive countenance a sullen and downcast look, and evincing a nearer approach to the inferior races of the feline tribe. This singular distinction appears to be in a great measure dependent on the absence of the mane; for it is observed that the young male cubs, until the period at which this badge of dignity begins to make its appearance, that is to say until they are about twelve months old, carry their heads in the same level position with the female.

It cannot be doubted that the lighter and slenderer shape of the Lioness, and her consequently greater activity, tend in an especial manner to the formation of that more lively and sensitive character by which all her actions are so strongly marked: but there is another cause, no less powerful than these, which operates with peculiar force, in the vivid excitability of her maternal feelings, which she cherishes with an ardour almost unparalleled in the history of any other animal. From the moment that she becomes a mother, the native ferocity of her disposition is renovated as it were with tenfold vigour; she watches over her young with that undefined dread of danger to their weak and defenceless state, and that suspicious eagerness of alarm, which keep her in a constant state of feverish excitation: and woe be to the wretched intruder, whether man or beast, who should unwarily at such a time approach the precincts of her sanctuary. Even in a state of captivity, and however completely she may have been previously subjected to the control of her keeper, she loses all respect for his commands, and abandons herself occasionally to the most violent paroxysms of rage.

Of this the individual Lioness now in the Tower affords a striking example. We have already observed in our account of the Lion that, for a considerable time after her arrival in England, she was so tame as to be allowed frequently to roam at large about the open yard; and even long after it had been judged expedient that this degree of liberty should no longer be granted, her disposition was far from exciting any particular fear in the minds of her keepers. As an instance of this, we may mention that when, on one occasion about a year and a half ago, she had been suffered through inadvertence to leave her den, and when she was by no means in good temper, George Willoughway, the under keeper, had the boldness, alone and armed only with a stick, to venture upon the task of driving her back into her place of confinement; which he finally accomplished, not however without strong symptoms of resistance on her part, as she actually made three springs upon him, all of which he was fortunate enough to avoid.

But from the period when she gave birth to her Cubs a total alteration has taken place in her temper and demeanour. She no longer suffers the least familiarity even on the part of her keepers, but gives full scope to the violence of her passions. Intent solely on providing for the security of her young, she imagines that the object of every person who approaches her den is to rob her of her treasures, over which she watches with almost sleepless anxiety, exhibiting the truly beautiful but appalling picture of maternal tenderness combined with savage ferocity, each in their utmost intensity of force and colouring.

The Cubs, which are three in number, two male and one female, were whelped on the 20th of October, 1827, the day of the battle of Navarino; and it is remarked by Mr. Cops, as a curious coincidence, that they are the only Lions which have been whelped in the Tower since the year 1794, rendered memorable by the great naval victory gained by Lord Howe over the French fleet. They are universally considered to be the finest ever bred in England, and are now in a most thriving condition. They have not, however, yet reached the period when the shedding of the milk-teeth takes place, a process which is perhaps more perilous to the brute creation than that of dentition to the offspring of the human race, and appears indeed to be attended with greater risks in proportion to the carnivorous propensities of the respective species. To the Lion it has always proved, at least in his state of captivity, a period of the greatest danger, very few individuals of the numerous whelps which have been produced either here or on the continent surviving its effects. Still there is good reason to hope, from the peculiarly healthy appearance of the present litter, that, by means of skilful management, the danger may be averted, and that a pair at least of these noble animals, “born and bred in England,” may in a few years rival their parents in size, in beauty, and in majesty.

The mother and her whelps are admirably represented in the spirited group of portraits which heads the present article. The latter have all the playfulness of kittens, and are fondled by their dam in a similar manner to that in which the domestic cat caresses her young. While they were small enough she carried them from place to place in her mouth, and showed the greatest solicitude to keep them from the view of strangers; and even now that they are grown too large for this mode of treatment, she continues to pay the strictest attention to the cleanliness of their persons, and licks their fur, as they tumble about her, with all the matronly dignity and gravity of an accomplished nurse.

The Cubs have hitherto exhibited very faint traces of the striped livery which is generally characteristic of the Lion’s whelp; but it is highly probable that when they lose their winter coat, this marking may become more obvious, although, on account of their advancing age, it will never show itself with that distinctness which has been observed in other instances. It consists of a blackish band, extending along the centre of the back, from the head almost to the extremity of the tail, and branching off into numerous other bands of the same colour, which are parallel to each other, and pass across the upper parts of the sides and tail. The very young lion consequently bears no small resemblance to the tiger; a circumstance which it is interesting to remark as one which furnishes additional evidence of the close affinity of these formidable animals. The colouring of its bands is, however, much less intense; and in addition to these it possesses on the head and on the limbs numerous irregular spots of a darker hue than the rest of the fur, which are never found in the neighbouring species. On the limbs of the present Cubs these spots and blotches are distinctly visible amidst the rough and half shaggy coat which covers them, and which is not exchanged for the smooth and sleek fur, with which they are subsequently invested, until they approach their full growth. As they advance towards the adult age, which takes place in the fifth or sixth year, the livery gradually disappears, and is then usually entirely lost. The Lioness herself, however, still retains some trifling vestiges of it. The Cubs are, as usual, destitute of the longer hairs which form the tuft at the extremity of the tail of the adult, which in them tapers to a black tip. Their voice is at present perfectly similar to the mewing of a cat; and it is not until they reach the age of eighteen months that it changes into that peculiar roar which afterwards becomes so tremendous. At that age the mane has already attained considerable developement. This appendage begins to make its appearance in the males when they are ten or twelve months old, having at first the shape of a slight frill or ruff, but gradually becoming more and more extensive, and at length assuming that striking form which gives to the full grown animal a graceful and dignified, and to the more aged a reverend and majestic, air.

THE CAPE LION.

Felis Leo.—Var. Capensis.

Africa, as we have already observed, is truly the native country of the Lion; and in no part of that vast continent, we may add, does he attain greater size, or exhibit all his characteristic features in fuller and more complete developement, than in the immediate vicinity of the settlements which have been formed in the interior of its southern extremity by the Dutch and English colonists of the Cape. In speaking of the Bengal Lion, we have also pointed out the more striking characteristics by which the Asiatic race is distinguished from that of Southern Africa; consisting principally in the larger size, the more regular and graceful form, the generally darker colour, and the less extensive mane of the African. It remains, however, to be mentioned that, even in this latter race, there are two varieties, which have been long known to the settlers under the names of the Pale and the Black Lion, distinguished, as their appellations imply, by the lighter or darker colour of their coats, and more particularly of their manes. This variation, there can be little doubt, is entirely produced by the different character of the districts which they inhabit, and of the food which they are enabled to procure. The black Lion, as he is termed, is the larger and the more ferocious of the two, more frequently attacking man himself, if less noble prey should fail him; and sometimes measuring the enormous distance of eight feet from the tip of the nose to the origin of the tail, which is generally about half the length of the body. He is, however, of less frequent occurrence than the pale variety.

It is in the night-time more particularly that the Lion prowls abroad in search of his prey, the conformation of his eyes not only, like those of the cat, allowing him to see with a very moderate degree of light, but even rendering the full glare of day distressing and intolerable to him. It is for this reason that travellers, who are compelled to sleep in the open air in countries infested by these animals, are careful to keep up a blazing fire, which the tenderness of their eyes deters them from approaching, unless when they are extremely hard pressed by the calls of hunger. These, it would appear, sometimes become paramount to every other consideration, and urge the Lion, as they do many more ignoble beasts, into the exhibition of a degree of courage, which, in despite of all that has been said on the subject, is by no means his natural characteristic.

“At the time,” says Mr. Burchell, in his admirable Travels in Southern Africa, “when men first adopted the Lion as the emblem of courage, it would seem that they regarded great size and strength as indicating it; but they were greatly mistaken in the character they had given of this indolent skulking animal.” That an animal which seldom attacks by open force, but, stealing along with cautious and noiseless tread, silently approaches his victim, conceals himself in treacherous ambush, and at length, when he imagines his prey to be fairly within his reach, bounds forth upon him with an overwhelming leap, crushes him beneath the tremendous weight of his irresistible paw, tears him piece-meal with his talons, and, after having surfeited on his horrid meal, returns into the depths of his solitary concealment to sleep away the hours until his satiated appetite shall be again renewed, and his craving maw stimulate him to fresh exertion,—that such an animal should ever have been regarded as the type of courage and the emblem of magnanimity would indeed be most astonishing, were it not that men have in all ages been too prone to flatter superior power, and to offer at the shrine of greatness that homage which is due only to the good.

True it is that on some occasions the Lion has been known, in the capriciousness of his disposition, to suffer his prostrate prey to escape but little injured from his clutch; but these instances are of rare occurrence, and may safely be referred either to his natural indolence, when excited neither by hunger nor by provocation, or to that intellectual debasement which among brutes is the usual concomitant of increased bulk and formidable strength. But to conclude from such whims and freaks, unaccountable as they may sometimes appear, that he is actuated by feelings of mercy, or by the natural impulse of a generous mind, would be about as reasonable as it would be to assume from the instances which are recorded of the justice and generosity of a Tamerlane or a Tippoo, that those monsters of sanguinary cruelty were in reality the mildest and most merciful of despots.

We have said that the Lion generally chooses the night for his excursions; and this is in fact the only time at which he ventures to approach the habitations of man, from which he will frequently carry off horses or oxen, apparently with the greatest ease, and almost without seeming to be incumbered by his burthen. Beyond the precincts of European civilization, and out of the reach of the dreaded rifle, he will sometimes penetrate into the very hut of the Bushman, and prey upon its human inhabitants. It is even stated, and on very respectable authority, that in some of the most distant kraals, or villages, those wretched people purposely expose the old and the infirm among them in such situations as they consider most open to attack, as the Lion’s share, in the expectation that he will instinctively seize upon those who are first thrown in his way. When, however, the Lion finds his appetite thus easily satiated, it is said that he is sure to return night after night to the kraal for a fresh victim; until the miserable remnant of its inhabitants at length find it absolutely necessary to quit the ground, and to seek a precarious safety in flight.

In the daytime, when pressed by hunger, the Lion takes his secret stand among the reeds and long grass in the neighbourhood of springs and rivers, and watches with unwearied patience for such animals as may, for the purpose of quenching their thirst, pass sufficiently near him to ensure the success of his attack. This is generally made in one enormous bound of fifteen, twenty, or even, it is said, thirty feet, and with a force capable of bearing to the ground and completely disabling the most formidable opponent. At times, however, he will pursue his prey somewhat more openly, and by quickly repeated springs; but this is an exertion which he is unable to continue for any considerable length of time, and which, consequently, any animal of moderate fleetness, that has fairly got the start of him, is certain to outstrip. Of this the Lion appears to be fully aware; for, if not successful in the commencement of the chase, he generally relinquishes it at once, and retires gradually, and step by step, to his place of ambush, to watch for a better opportunity and a more certain prey.

It is rarely that the Lion of the Cape district ventures to attack a man, unless provoked, or impelled by urgent hunger. The colonists, however, who are very great sufferers (especially in their horses, for whose flesh he seems to have a peculiar taste) by his frequent visits, are his most determined and deadly foes, and omit no opportunity of wreaking their vengeance upon him for the injuries which he has inflicted upon their property. The frontier boors in particular, who are more exposed to his ravages, and who, being well trained to hunting, are most of them excellent marksmen, appear to take a peculiar pleasure in attacking the Lion, even when they meet him almost singly. They, however, more frequently make up parties for the chase, which is unquestionably attended with no little danger, even when the huntsmen are numerous and experienced; for although the Lion on such occasions almost always takes to his heels, and endeavours to make his escape without confronting his pursuers; yet, when he finds that flight is in vain, he turns upon them with a fierceness and determination that nothing could withstand, were it not for the well proved superiority possessed by them in the formidable rifle, which, on such an emergency, they know how to direct with a steady and almost unerring aim.

The Cape Lion is seldom taken alive; his utter destruction and extermination forming the primary object of his pursuers. Occasionally, however, when a Lioness has been shot, and the hunters have been fortunate enough to trace out her den, the cubs are brought away, and in some measure domesticated, at least for a season, and until they acquire sufficient force to become dangerous. Up to this period some of the colonists will even suffer them to remain almost at large in their dwellings; but they have frequently occasion to rue the mercy they have shown, and are at length compelled, by the unequivocal manifestations of that ferocity which never fails to make its appearance when the animals have attained a certain age, to destroy the creatures whom they have nourished and caressed.

Two male individuals of this breed are now exhibiting at the Tower: the one whose portrait illustrates the present article, and who, although scarcely more than two years and a half old, already rivals his adult Asiatic neighbour in size and majesty, while he exceeds him in grace and agility; and a second, of about ten months old, apparently belonging to the pale variety, and who is just beginning to exhibit the first faint outline of the mane. The former of these is remarkably beautiful and docile: he became an inmate of the Tower in May, 1827; and was, during his voyage from the Cape, being then very young, so tame and domesticated as to be allowed to run about the deck like a dog.

THE BARBARY LIONESS.

Felis Leo.—Var. Numida.

In the male of this variety, which has been more frequently brought to Europe than any other, the mane attains as much developement and covers the under parts of the body as extensively as in the Lion of Eastern Asia, whom, however, at the adult age, he exceeds considerably in size. The Lioness has little to distinguish her from the other breeds.

The specimen now in the Menagerie is a young female about three years and a half old. She was a present to his Majesty from the Emperor of Morocco. During some tempestuous weather, which occurred on her passage, the male who accompanied her was killed, and she herself met with an accident, from the falling of a spar, by which she was curtailed of her fair proportions, and deprived of the greater part of her tail. The disfigurement thus caused is, however, trifling, and she is still a very fine animal.

THE TIGER.

Felis Tigris. Linn.

Closely allied to the Lion, whom he resembles in size, in power, in external form, in internal structure, in zoological characters, in his prowling habits, and in his sanguinary propensities, the Tiger is at once distinguished from that king of beasts, and from every other of their common genus, by the peculiar marking of his coat. On a ground which exhibits in different individuals various shades of yellow, he is elegantly striped by a series of transverse black bands or bars, which occupy the sides of his head, neck, and body, and are continued upon his tail in the form of rings, the last of the series uniformly occupying the extremity of that organ, and giving to it a black tip of greater or less extent. The under parts of his body and the inner sides of his legs are almost entirely white; he has no mane; and his whole frame, though less elevated than that of the Lion, is of a slenderer and more graceful make. His head is also shorter and more rounded.

Almost in the same degree that the Lion has been exalted and magnified, at the expense of his fellow brutes, has the Tiger been degraded and depressed below his just and natural level. While the one has been held up to admiration, as the type and standard of heroic perfection, the other has, with equal capriciousness of judgment and disregard of the close and intimate relationship subsisting between them, been looked upon by mankind in general with those feelings of unmingled horror and detestation which his character for untameable ferocity and insatiable thirst of blood was so well calculated to inspire. It requires, however, but little consideration to teach us that the broad distinction, which has thus been drawn, cannot by possibility exist; and the recorded observations of naturalists and travellers, both at home and abroad, will be found amply sufficient to prove that the difference in their characters and habits, on which so much stress has been laid, is in reality as slight and unessential as that which exists in their corporeal structure.

Unquestionably the Tiger has not the majesty of the Lion; for he is destitute of the mane, in which that majesty chiefly resides. Neither has he the same calm and dignified air of imperturbable gravity which is at once so striking and so prepossessing in the aspect of the Lion. But, on the other hand, it will readily be granted, that in the superior lightness of his frame, which allows his natural agility its free and unrestricted scope, and in the graceful ease and spirited activity of his motions, to say nothing of the beauty, the regularity, and the vividness of his colouring, he far excels his competitor, whose giant bulk and comparative heaviness of person, added to the dull uniformity of his colour, detract in no small degree from the impression produced by his noble and majestic bearing.

In comparing the moral qualities of these two formidable animals, we shall also find that the shades of difference, for at most they are but shades, which distinguish them, are, like their external characteristics, pretty equally balanced in favour of each. In all the leading features of their character, the habits of both are essentially the same. The Tiger, equally with the Lion, and in common indeed with the whole of the group to which he belongs, reposes indolently in the security of his den, until the calls of appetite stimulate him to look abroad for food. He then chooses a convenient ambush, in which to lie concealed from observation, generally amid the underwood of the forest, but sometimes even on the branches of a tree, which he climbs with all the agility of a cat. In this secret covert he awaits with patient watchfulness the approach of his prey, upon which he darts forth with an irresistible bound, and bears it off in triumph to his den. Unlike the Lion, however, if his first attack proves unsuccessful, and he misses his aim, he does not usually slink sullenly back into his retreat, but pursues his victim with a speed and activity which is seldom baffled even by the fleetest animals.

It is only when this close and covert mode of attack has failed in procuring him the necessary supply, that, urged by those inward cravings, which are the ruling impulse of all his actions, he prowls abroad under the veil of night, and ventures to approach the dwellings of man, of whom he does not appear to feel that instinctive awe which the Lion has been known so frequently to evince. But even on such occasions, and although impelled by the strong stimulus of famine, he is in general far from unmindful of his own security; but creeps slowly along his silent path with all the stealthy caution so characteristic of the feline tribe. Occasionally, however, when the pangs of hunger have become intolerable, and can no longer be controlled even by the overpowering sway of instinct, he will boldly advance upon man himself in the open face of day, and brave every danger in the pursuit of that object which, to the exclusion of every other sentiment, appears under such circumstances wholly to engross his faculties.

It is evident then that in the general outline of his habits, and even in most of the separate traits by which his character is marked, he differs but little from the Lion. His courage, if brute force stimulated by sensual appetite can deserve that honourable name, is at least equal; and as for magnanimity and generosity, the idea of attributing such noble qualities to either is in itself so absurd, and is so fully refuted by every particular of their authentic history, that it would be perfectly ridiculous to attempt a comparison where no materials for comparison exist. It may, however, be observed that in one point the disposition of the Tiger appears to be more cruel than that of the Lion; inasmuch as it is related, that he is not at all times satisfied with a single victim, but deals forth wholesale destruction, without mercy and without distinction, upon whatever may chance to be within the reach of his murderous talons. This, however, is by no means his constant or usual practice; his instinct being in general sufficient to teach him that his purpose is as effectually answered by one fatal bound as by the most extensive devastation; for neither he, nor any of the more powerful of his tribe, return to their prey after the first meal, but leave its mangled relics for the ignoble beasts which follow in their train.

To what cause then, if the similarity between these two animals be so great, and the points of distinction between them so trifling, can we attribute the very different impressions which we have all received, and in all probability continue to cherish, with regard to their respective characters? Perhaps something like a plausible answer to this question may be found in the fact, that our notions of the Lion have been formed on the striking and exaggerated pictures of his noble qualities, for which we are indebted to the poets of antiquity, who contemplated him only in his captive and almost domesticated state; while our early ideas of the Tiger were derived in a great measure from the equally exaggerated statements of miserable and pusillanimous Hindoos, the spiritless and unresisting victims of every species of oppression, who regarded him with almost unspeakable horror as the merciless tyrant of their forests,—a tyrant whose ferocious temper and sanguinary ravages were equalled only by those of the human despots, to whom, as well as to their brute oppressors, they paid the base tribute of servile minds, in the fearful dread and crouching awe with which they prostrated themselves at the feet of both.

Nothing in fact can exceed the terror which this formidable animal inspires in those countries which are liable to his devastations. More restricted, however, in this respect than the Lion, he is entirely unknown in Africa, and is rarely, if ever, to be met with in Asia on this side the Indus. In the south of China, and in the larger Asiatic Islands, such as Sumatra and Java, he is unhappily but too common; but it is said, we know not with what degree of truth, that in the last mentioned locality he is less ferocious than in the Peninsula of Hindostan. This is truly the cradle of his existence and the seat of his empire, in which he disputes dominion even with the Lion himself, who is comparatively rare in the Indian jungles, and with whom the Tiger has been sometimes known to join in deadly and successful struggle for the mastery. Endowed with a degree of force, which the Lion and the Elephant alone can equal, he carries off a buffalo in his tremendous jaws, almost without relaxing from his usual speed. With a single stroke of his claws he rips open the body of the largest animals; and is said to suck their blood with insatiable avidity. Of the correctness of this latter statement, at least in its full extent, there is however strong reason to doubt. The Tiger does not, according to the most credible accounts, exhibit this propensity to drinking the blood of his victims in any greater degree than the rest of his carnivorous and blood-thirsty companions. In this, as in other instances, fear has drawn largely on credulity, and the simple and sufficiently disgusting fact has been amplified and exaggerated with all the refinements upon horror which the terrified imagination could suggest.

In making these observations it is far from our intention to become the apologists of this ferocious beast: our object is simply to place him in the rank which he deserves to hold, on a level with those animals with whom Nature has decreed that he should be associated no less in character than in form. In his wild and unrestricted state, he is unquestionably one of the most terrible of the living scourges, to whose fatal ravages the lower animals, and even man himself, are exposed. But in captivity, and especially if domesticated while young, his temper is equally pliant, his disposition equally docile, and his manners and character equally susceptible of amelioration, with those of any other animal of his class. All the stories that have been so frequently reiterated, until they have at length passed current without examination as accredited truths, of his intractable disposition and insensibility to the kind treatment of his keepers, towards whom it is alleged that he never exhibits the slightest feelings of gratitude, have been proved by repeated experience to be utterly false and groundless. He is tamed with as much facility, and as completely, as the Lion; and soon becomes familiarised with those who feed him, whom he learns to distinguish from others, and by whom he is fond of being noticed and caressed. Like the cat, which he resembles so closely in all his actions, he arches his broad and powerful back beneath the hand that caresses him; he licks his fur and smooths himself with his paws; and purrs in the same mild and expressive manner when he is particularly pleased. He remains perfectly quiet and undisturbed, unless when hungry or irritated, and passes the greater part of his time in listless repose. His roar is nearly similar to that of the Lion, and, like his, is by no means to be regarded as a symptom of anger, which he announces by a short and shrill cry, approaching to a scream.

Two of these noble animals, the one male and the other female, are among the most striking and attractive ornaments of the Menagerie. The beautiful male, of which our figure offers a characteristic likeness, is a very recent importation, having arrived in England in the month of April of the present year, in the East India Company’s ship Buckinghamshire, to the commander of which, Captain Glasspool, we are indebted for the following particulars relative to his birthplace, capture, early life, and education. He was taken prisoner in company with two other cubs, supposed to be not more than three weeks old, on that part of the coast of the peninsula of Malacca which is opposite to the island of Penang, and is commonly known by the name of the Queda Coast. In our present imperfect acquaintance with this part of the farther peninsula of Hindoostan, it affords perhaps but little ground for surprise that none of these terrible animals should have previously reached this quarter of the globe from a locality so seldom visited by European vessels. Their existence in its extensive jungles and marshy plains has long, however, been notorious; and to judge from the specimen now before us, which, although barely two years old, already exceeds in size the full-grown Asiatic Lion which occupies the neighbouring den, they must in that situation be at least as formidable as their fellows of the hither peninsula. The dam of this individual had, it appears, made a nocturnal incursion into one of the towns of the district, from which she had carried off a large quantity of provisions. She was pursued and killed, and her three cubs were taken possession of by the conquerors in token of their victory and brought home in triumph. One of them, a female, died shortly after; the second, a male, is still living in the possession of a resident at Penang; and the third, the subject of the present article, also fell into the hands of a gentleman of that settlement, in whose paddock he was confined, in company with a pony and a dog, for upwards of twelve months, without evincing the least inclination to injure his companions or any one who approached him. By this gentleman he was presented to Captain Glasspool, who brought him to England: on the voyage he was remarkably tame, allowing the sailors to play with him, and appearing to take much pleasure in their caresses. On being placed in his present den he was rather sulky for a few days; but seems now to have recovered his good temper, and to be perfectly reconciled to his situation. The mildness of his temper may probably be in a great measure due to his having from a very early age been accustomed to boiled food; raw flesh never having been offered to him until after his arrival in the Menagerie. This change of food he seems particularly to enjoy, although he has by no means lost his appetite for soup, which he devours with much eagerness. Notwithstanding his immature age, Mr. Cops considers him the largest Tiger that he ever saw.

The other individual at present in the Tower is a Tigress of great beauty from Bengal, scarcely a twelvemonth old, who also promises to become an exceedingly fine animal. During her passage from Calcutta she was allowed to range about the vessel unrestricted, became perfectly familiar with the sailors, and showed not the slightest symptom of ferocity. On her arrival, however, in the Thames, the irritation produced by the sight of strangers completely and instantly changed her temper, rendering her irascible and dangerous. Her deportment was so sulky and savage that Mr. Cops could scarcely be prevailed on by her former keeper, who saw her shortly afterwards, to allow him to enter her den: but no sooner did she recognise her old friend, than she fawned upon him, licked him, and caressed him, exhibiting the most extravagant signs of pleasure; and when he left her she cried and whined for the remainder of the day. To her new residence and her new keeper she is now perfectly reconciled.

THE LEOPARD.

Felis Leopardus. Linn.

The race of this wily and sanguinary animal, which is unsurpassed in all the terrible characteristics of its tribe, and yields to the tremendous and ferocious beasts, to the illustration of whose habits and manners our previous pages have been devoted, in none of their dreaded attributes, excepting only in size and strength, is spread almost as extensively over the surface of the Old World as that of the Lion himself. From the shores of the Mediterranean to the immediate neighbourhood of the Cape he is familiar to every part of the monster-bearing continent of Africa; while in the east of Asia his fatal spring and murderous talons are equally known and dreaded by the mild and timid Hindoos, the polite but still barbarous Chinese, and the fierce and savage Islanders of the great Sumatran chain. Throughout this immense tract of country he varies but in a trifling degree, and that merely in his comparative magnitude, in the size, shape, and disposition of his markings, and in the greater or less intensity of his colouring: in the more essential particulars of form and structure, as well as in character and disposition, he is every where the same.

It has already been mentioned that the Leopard is smaller than the Tiger; indeed he seldom exceeds from three to four feet from the tip of the nose to the root of the tail, which latter is somewhat shorter than the body. Perhaps the largest authentic measurement is that of an animal, spoken of under the designation of Panther, but in all probability truly a Leopard, which was killed by Colonel Denham’s party in the course of that zealous and successful traveller’s late expedition, and which is stated at eight feet two inches from the muzzle to the extremity of the tail. This savage creature, although twice impaled by the lances of his pursuers which he had snapped asunder in his rage, was still on the point of making a spring upon the foremost of the party, when a musket ball through the head completely deprived him of that vitality which his previous wounds, dangerous and fatal as they undoubtedly were, had not even appeared to diminish in any sensible degree.

The ground colour of the fur of the Leopard, which is eminently and beautifully sleek, is a yellowish fawn above, which becomes paler on the sides, and is entirely lost in the pure white of the under part of the body. The top of the back, the head, neck, limbs, and under surface of the body, are irregularly covered with larger or smaller, roundish or oval, perfectly black spots; while the whole of the sides of the animal and a portion of his tail are occupied by numerous distinct roses, formed by the near approach of three or four elongated small black spots, which surround a central area, about an inch or an inch and a quarter in breadth, of a somewhat deeper colour than the ground on which it is placed. There are some black lines on the lips, and bands of the same colour on the inside of the legs; two or three imperfect black circles, alternating with white, also occur towards the extremity of the tail, which is entirely white beneath.

It would be superfluous to enter into any detail of his habits, which correspond but too well with those of his fellow cats already described, and are only modified by his want of equal power. This deficiency is, however, in a great measure supplied by the extreme pliability of his spine, which gives to his motions a degree of velocity, agility, and precision combined, that is altogether unequalled by any other quadruped, and to which the greater lateral compression of his body, the increased length and more slender proportions of his limbs, and the suppleness of all his joints must of necessity materially contribute. Equally savage, equally dastardly, and equally cruel, he closely imitates the manners of the Lion and the Tiger, on a somewhat reduced, but still formidable, scale. Antilopes, monkeys, and the smaller quadrupeds constitute his usual prey, upon which he darts forth from his secret stand, and which he pertinaciously pursues even upon the trees where they may have taken refuge, climbing after them with surprising agility. Man he generally endeavours, if possible, to avoid; but, when hard pressed, he fears not to make head against the hunter; and it frequently requires the exertion of no common share of skill and intrepidity in the latter to save himself from the deadly fangs of the infuriated object of his pursuit. Occasionally, indeed, the cravings of hunger stimulate the treacherous animal to attack the unwary woodcutter, or the lone traveller whose path has led to his secret haunts; but in this case he rarely, if ever, shows himself openly in the face of day, but watches with insidious glare for the fatal opportunity of springing upon his wretched victim from behind, and of annihilating his power of resistance before it could possibly be exerted in his defence.

In captivity, however, especially if taken while yet young, his character frequently undergoes a change as favourable as that which takes place under the same circumstances in the generality of his tribe. The pair at present in the Tower are male and female; they are both Asiatic, and are confined in the same den, but they differ very materially in temper and disposition. The female, which is the older of the two, and has been a resident in the Menagerie for upwards of four years, is exceedingly tame, suffering herself to be patted and caressed by the keeper, and licking his hands. Strangers, however, especially ladies, should be cautious of approaching her too familiarly, as she has always evinced a particular predilection for the destruction of umbrellas, parasols, muffs, hats, and such other articles of dress as may happen to come within her reach, seizing them with the greatest quickness and tearing them into pieces almost before the astonished visiter has become aware of the loss. To so great an extent has she carried this peculiar taste that Mr. Cops declares that he has no doubt that during her residence in the Tower she has made prey of at least as many of these articles as there are days in the year. The agility with which she bounds round her cell, which is of considerable size, touching at one leap, and almost with the velocity of thought, each of its four walls, and skimming along the ceiling with the same rapidity of action, which is scarcely to be followed by the eye, is truly wonderful, and speaks more forcibly of the muscular power and flexibility of limb by which such extraordinary motions are executed than language can express.

The male, on the contrary, although he has been more than twelve months an inmate of the Tower, is still as sullen and as savage as on the day of his arrival. Notwithstanding the kind treatment which has been lavished upon him by the keepers, he yet refuses to become familiarised with them, and receives all their overtures at a nearer acquaintance with such sulky and even angry symptoms as plainly evince that it would be dangerous to tamper with his unreclaimed and unmanageable disposition. He is, as is usual in all these animals, larger than the female, and much richer and more beautiful in the style of his marking and depth of his colouring. The two animals, however, although differing so greatly in temper, agree together tolerably well, excepting only at meal times, when their usual harmony is in some measure broken in upon by the jealousy with which they regard each other’s share of the repast.

Their food consists of about five pounds of beef per day for each: this the keeper generally tosses up in front of their den, at the distance of nearly two feet from the bars, and to the height of six or eight feet from the floor. The animals, who are on the alert for their dinner, immediately leap towards the bars, and, darting out their paws with incredible swiftness, almost uniformly succeed in seizing it before it falls to the ground. If, as it sometimes happens, the meat is thrown up at too great a distance, so as not to be fairly within reach, they remain perfectly stationary and make no attempt to spring upon it, but watch it with anxious avidity, apparently calculating and comparing the distance of the object and the extent of their own grasp. When they have, in this way, secured their meal, instead of ravenously falling to, like the other carnivorous animals in the collection, they stand growling over it for some minutes, leering upon each other with the most frightful contortions. This growling attitude of mistrust in feeding was constantly maintained by the female, even before she had a companion in her captivity, and when consequently there existed no immediate object for the excitement of her selfish or envious feelings.

THE JAGUAR.

Felis Onca. Linn.

It can scarcely fail to have been remarked by those who have perused the preceding pages with moderate attention that the species of cats described in them, including the largest and most formidable of the whole genus, are exclusively natives of the Old World, and confined to the hot and burning climates of Southern Asia and of Africa. A second and more numerous class, of which, however, no example exists at present in the Tower Menagerie, and which, consequently, it does not fall within our province to illustrate, occupy the colder and northern regions of both hemispheres. These belong principally to the same subdivision with the Lynx (being, like him, distinguished by the pencils of long hairs which surmount their ears), and to that which comprehends the domestic cat; and are all of diminutive size and trifling power when compared with those monstrous productions of the torrid zone, the Lion, the Tiger, and the Leopard. The reader is not, however, to imagine that the smaller species exist only in the vicinity of the pole and in the temperate regions of the earth: he will find, on the contrary, that many of them are natives of more southern climes, and commit their petty ravages under as fierce a sun as that which fires their more dreaded competitors in the career of rapine and of blood. Of one of these, the true Lynx of antiquity, we shall have occasion to treat in a subsequent article.

But there is also a third class which springs into existence in the warmer climates of America, some of whose representatives almost equal the Tiger in magnitude, in vigour, and in ferocity, while others rival the Leopard in the beauty and sleekness of their fur, and in the agility and gracefulness of their motions. Foremost of these, and holding the highest rank among the most formidable animals of the New World, stands the Jaguar, or, as he is sometimes called, the American Tiger. Superior to the Leopard in size as well as in strength, he approaches very nearly in both respects to the Lionesses of the smaller breeds: he is, however, less elevated on his legs, and heavier and more clumsy in all his proportions. His head is larger and rounder than that of the Leopard; and his tail is considerably shorter in proportion, being only of sufficient length to allow of its touching the ground when the animal is standing, while that of the Leopard, as we have before observed, is very nearly as long as his whole body. This disproportion between the length of their tails affords perhaps the most striking distinction between the two animals, offering, as it does, a constant and never-failing criterion; whereas the difference in the marking of their furs, although sufficiently obvious on a close examination, depends almost entirely on such minute particularities as would probably escape the notice of a superficial observer, and were in fact for a long time so completely neglected, even by zoologists, that it is only within a few years that we have been again taught accurately to distinguish between them. These particularities we shall now proceed to point out.

On the whole upper surface of the body of the Jaguar the fur, which is short, close, and smooth, is of a bright yellowish fawn; passing on the throat, belly, and inside of the legs, into a pure white. On this ground the head, limbs, and under surface are covered with full black spots of various sizes; and the rest of the body with roses, either entirely bordered by a black ring or surrounded by several of the smaller black spots arranged in a circular form. The full spots are generally continued upon the greater part of the tail, the tip of which is black, and which is also encircled near its extremity by three or four black rings. So far there is little to distinguish the marking of the Jaguar from that of the Leopard; we come now to the differences observable between them. The spots which occupy the central line of the back in the former are full, narrow, and elongated; and the roses of the sides and haunches, which are considerably larger and proportionally less numerous than in the Leopard, are all or nearly all marked with one or sometimes two black dots or spots of smaller size towards their centre: an apparently trifling, but constant and very remarkable distinction, which exists in no other species. By this peculiarity alone the Jaguar may at once be recognised; and this external characteristic, together with the extreme shortness of his tail, his much greater size, his comparatively clumsy form, and the heaviness of all his motions, not to speak of the peculiarity of his voice, which has the sharp and harsh sound of an imperfect bark, are unquestionably fully sufficient to sanction his separation from a race of animals, from which, however much he may resemble them in general characters, he differs in so many and such essential particulars. That this separation has been made more complete by the hand of Nature herself, who has interposed the wide ocean between him and those of his fellows with whom alone there is any probability of his being confounded, is an additional proof, if any confirmation were wanting, of the soundness of the distinction which has been drawn between them.

It is in the swampy forests of South America that the Jaguar commits his destructive ravages, which are spread over nearly the whole of that continent from Paraguay almost to the Isthmus of Darien. It has frequently been said that he is also to be found in Mexico; but this appears to be a mistake, originating probably in Buffon’s having confounded the Jaguar with the Ocelot, describing and figuring the latter under the name of the former, and intermingling with his description many of the peculiar traits of the real Jaguar derived from the relations of travellers. On the other hand he has erroneously figured the latter animal under the name of the Panther; a mistake in which he has been followed by Pennant and others, and with which the writings of zoologists are more or less infected even up to the present day. What the Panther of the ancients actually was, or whether there exists any real difference between it and the Leopard, is a much disputed question, into which we have neither space nor inclination to enter: certain it is that it could not possibly have been the present animal, which has never been found out of the limits of America; and that Buffon himself had no idea, while he was figuring the latter, that the specimen before him was not a native of Africa or the East. The name of Jaguar is corruptedly derived from the Brazilian appellation of the animal, to which the Portuguese have given the name of Onça; another blunder, for the Ounce of the Old World is now universally allowed to be identical with the Leopard, and with the latter we have already shown that it is impossible that the American species can be conjoined.

Like the Cats already described, to whom, however, he is much inferior in the suppleness and elasticity of his motions, the Jaguar makes his solitary haunt in the recesses of the forest, especially in the neighbourhood of large rivers, which he swims with the greatest dexterity. Of the extent of this faculty, as well as of his extraordinary strength, some judgment may be formed from a circumstance related by D’Azara, which fell partly under that traveller’s personal observation; namely, that a Jaguar, after having attacked and destroyed a horse, carried the body of his victim for about sixty paces to the bank of a broad and deep river, over which he swam with his prey, and then dragged it into the adjoining wood. According to M. Sonnini he is as expert at climbing as at swimming. “I have seen,” he says, “in the forests of Guiana, the prints left by the claws of the Jaguar on the smooth bark of a tree from forty to fifty feet in height, measuring about a foot and a half in circumference, and clothed with branches near its summit alone. It was easy to follow with the eye the efforts which the animal had made to reach the branches: although his talons had been thrust deeply into the body of the tree, he had met with several slips, but he had always recovered his ground, and, attracted no doubt by some favourite object of prey, had at length succeeded in gaining the very top.”

Endowed with such tremendous powers it is no wonder that this formidable animal is regarded with terror by the inhabitants of the countries which he infests. He seldom, however, attacks the human race; although he does not appear to shun it with any peculiar dread. His onset is always made from behind, and in the same treacherous manner as that of all his tribe; of a herd of animals or of a band of men passing within his reach, he uniformly singles out the last as the object of his fatal bound. When he has made choice of his victim he springs upon its neck, and, placing one of his paws upon the back of its head while he seizes its muzzle with the other, twists its head round with a sudden jerk, which dislocates its spine and deprives it instantaneously of life and motion. His favourite game appears to be the larger quadrupeds, such as oxen, horses, sheep, and dogs, whom he attacks indiscriminately and almost always successfully, when urged by the powerful cravings of his maw. At other times he is indolent and cowardly, secretes himself in caverns, skulks in the depths of the forest, and is scared by the most trifling causes.

The Spaniards and even the native Indians appear to take a pleasure in hunting the Jaguar, whom they attack in various ways. One of the most common is to chase him with a numerous pack of dogs, who, although they dare not attack so formidable an opponent, frequently succeed in driving him to seek refuge on a tree or in a thick copse. Should he trust himself to the former, he is usually destroyed by the musket or the lance; but if he has taken covert among the bushes, it is sometimes difficult to aim at him with precision. In this latter case some of the Indians are hardy enough to attack him single-handed; a perilous exploit, which, according to D’Azara, they perform in the following manner. Armed only with a lance, of five feet in length, they envelope their left arm in a sheep-skin, by means of which they evade the first onset of the furious animal, and gain sufficient time to plunge their weapon into his body before he can turn upon them for a second attack. Another mode of destroying him is by means of the lasso; but this method can of course be employed only when the animal roams abroad upon the plains, or can be driven by the dogs into an open space fit for the purpose. Riding at full gallop with the lasso coiled up in their hands, these excellent horsemen will throw the noose with such certainty and precision as infallibly to secure their formidable enemy at the distance of a hundred paces, and to place him completely at their mercy.

The Jaguar is generally said to be quite untameable, and to maintain his savage ferocity even in a state of captivity, showing no symptoms of attachment to those who have the care of him. This assertion is amply contradicted by the fact that an individual confined in the Paris Menagerie, was exceedingly mild in his temper, and particularly fond of licking the hands of those with whom he was familiar; as was also remarkably the case with the specimen lately in the Tower, whose portrait ornaments the present article. This animal was obtained by Lord Exmouth while on the American station, and accompanied the expedition to Algiers at the memorable bombardment of that nest of pirates. On his return to England, his Lordship gave it to the Marchioness of Londonderry, who soon afterwards presented it to his Majesty, by whose order it was placed in the Tower; where it continued until a short time since, when it unfortunately died. Mr. Cops is, however, in expectation of being soon enabled to replace it. It was exhibited under the name of the Panther, an appellation which we have before stated that the Jaguar had erroneously obtained, not only among the furriers, by whom it is universally so called, but even among scientific zoologists.

THE PUMA.

Felis Concolor. Linn.

Nearly approaching to the Jaguar in size and form, but obviously distinguished from him at the first glance, by the total absence of spots, the Puma, Couguar, or, as he was once called, the American Lion, occupies the second place among the cats of the New World, over nearly the whole of which he was formerly spread, from Canada and the United States in the North, to the very extremity of Patagonia in the South. From a large portion of this immense expanse of country he appears, however, to have been of late years in a great measure, if not entirely, rooted out; and it is seldom that he is now heard of in the vicinity of that civilization, which involves, as a necessary consequence, either the complete extinction, or, at least, the gradual diminution and dispersion to more secure and sheltered habitations, of all the more savage and obnoxious beasts. For his title of the American Lion he was, in a great degree, indebted to an absurd notion on the part of the early colonists, which was even shared by many naturalists, that he was, in reality, neither more nor less than a degenerate variety of that far more noble animal. This opinion has, however, long since given way before the prevalence of sounder views; and he is now universally recognised as forming a species clearly distinguishable from every other, by a combination of characters which it is impossible to mistake.

Almost the only striking point of resemblance between him and the Lion consists in the uniform sameness of his colour, which on the upper parts of his body is of a bright silvery fawn, the tawny hairs being terminated by whitish tips: beneath and on the inside of the limbs he is nearly white, and more completely so on the throat, chin, and upper lip. The head has an irregular mixture of black and gray; the outside of the ears, especially at the base, the sides of the muzzle from which the whiskers take their origin, and the extremity of the tail, are black. The latter is not terminated, as in the Lion, by a brush of hair; neither has the Puma any vestige of a mane. His length from the tip of the nose to the root of the tail is commonly about four feet, and his tail measures above half as much more, being just sufficiently long to suffer its extremity to trail upon the ground. His head is remarkably small and rounded, with a broad and somewhat obtuse muzzle; and his body is proportionably more slender and less elevated than that of the Lion. His young, like those of the latter animal, have a peculiar livery, consisting in spots of a darker shade than the rest of their fur, scattered over every part of the body, but only visible in a particular light, and disappearing entirely at the adult age. There is no difference whatever in colour between the sexes, the fur of the female being in every respect similar to that of the male: in size the latter is superior to his mate; and his head, a part which in the female is disproportionately small, corresponds better with the general form of his body.

More circumspect, or rather more cowardly, than any of the larger species of his cautious tribe, he is, notwithstanding his much greater magnitude, scarcely more dangerous than the common wild cat, preying only upon the smaller species of animals, seldom venturing to attack any living creature of greater size or courage than a sheep, and flying from the face of man with more than usual terror. But this cowardice is also, in a state of nature, connected with a degree of ferocity, fully equal to that which is developed in the most savage and blood-thirsty of his fellow cats. Unlike the Jaguar, which generally contents itself with a single victim, the Puma, if he should happen to find himself undisturbed in the midst of a flock of sheep, deserted by their guardians and left entirely at his mercy, is said never to spare, but to destroy every individual that he can reach, for the purpose of sucking its blood. He differs also from the Jaguar in his habit of frequenting the open plain rather than the forest and the river, in and near which the latter usually takes his secret and destructive stand. Hence he is more exposed to the pursuit of the skilful thrower of the lasso, from whom, as his swiftness is by no means great and his timidity excessive, he rarely escapes.

In captivity the Puma readily becomes tame, and may even be rendered docile and obedient. His manners closely resemble those of the domestic cat; like it he is extremely fond of being noticed, raises his back and stretches his limbs beneath the hand that caresses him, and expresses his pleasure by the same quiet and complacent purring. They soon become attached to those with whom they are familiar; and numerous instances might be mentioned in which they have been suffered to roam almost at large about the house without any injurious results. One of these is no doubt familiar to many of our readers, occurring as it did under the roof of Mr. Kean, the tragedian, who possessed an animal of this species so tame as to follow him about almost like a dog, and to be frequently introduced into his drawing-room, when filled with company, at perfect liberty.

The Puma figured above is a female, about three years old, exceedingly sleek in her fur and lively in her colours, and equally mild and good-tempered with any of her race.

THE OCELOT.

Felis Pardalis. Linn.

“Of all the animals with tigrine skins,” says Buffon, “the male Ocelot has unquestionably the most beautiful and at the same time the most elegantly variegated robe; that of the Leopard himself does not approach it in liveliness of colour or regularity of design.” That this estimate is by no means exaggerated will readily be allowed by all who have had an opportunity of seeing this truly beautiful creature, which may unquestionably be regarded as the beau ideal of a cat. Nearly equal in size to the Lynx of Europe, but shorter in its proportions and more graceful in its form, it holds, as it were, a middle station between the Leopard and the domestic cat. Its body, when full grown, is nearly three feet in length, and its tail rather more than one; while its medium height may be reckoned at about eighteen inches. The ground colour of its fur is gray mingled with a slight tinge of fawn; and on this it is elegantly marked with numerous longitudinal bands, the dorsal one being continuous and entirely black, and the lateral, to the number of six or seven on each side, consisting for the most part of a series of elongated spots with black margins, sometimes completely distinct, and sometimes running together. The centre of each of these spots offers a deeper tinge of fawn than the ground colour external to them; and this deeper tinge is also conspicuous on the upper part of the head and neck, and on the outside of the limbs, all of which parts are irregularly marked with full black lines and spots of various sizes. From the top of the head, between the ears, there pass backwards, towards the shoulders, two, or more frequently four, uninterrupted diverging bands, which are full black anteriorly, but generally bifurcate posteriorly and enclose a narrow fawn-coloured space within a black margin; between these there is a single longitudinal somewhat interrupted narrow black line, occupying the centre of the neck above. The ears are short and rounded, and externally margined with black, surrounding a large central whitish spot. The under parts of the body are whitish, spotted with black, and the tail, which is of the same ground colour with the body, is also covered with blackish spots.

The description above given is chiefly derived from the comparison of two living specimens, the one existing in the Menagerie of the Tower, the other in that of the Zoological Society, at their gardens in the Regent’s Park. There is one circumstance, however, of which it may be necessary to offer some explanation. We have stated the length of the tail at more than a foot; and in all the known Ocelots, as well as in all the species (of which there are several) that approach it in form and colouring, the proportionate length of the tail is at least equal to that which we have given as its average measurement. That of the Tower specimen, however, does not exceed six or seven inches; its extremity is completely overgrown with hair, and there is no appearance of a cicatrix. Still its equality throughout, and its abrupt stumpiness, if we may so express ourselves, induce the belief that this abbreviation of the tail is purely accidental; and we feel by no means inclined to regard the specimen before us as belonging to a new species, to be distinguished by the excessive shortness of that appendage, by the unusually pale colour of its markings, and by some slight peculiarities in the mode of their arrangement, which varies indeed in every individual that we have seen.

The animal in question, accurately represented in the portrait which is prefixed to the present article, was presented by the late Sir Ralph Woodford, governor of Trinidad, about six months since, under the name of the Peruvian Tiger; from which denomination we may presume that it was originally brought from that part of the continent of America. The species, however, is very widely spread, being found as well in Mexico, from the language of which country it derives its name, as in Paraguay. Its habits are similar to those of the other cats, keeping itself close in the depths of the forests during the day, and prowling abroad at night in search of victims, which it finds in the smaller quadrupeds and birds. In the chase of the latter it is particularly successful, pursuing them even to their nests amid the trees, which it climbs with the greatest agility. It is easily tamed, but seldom loses all trace of its natural ferocity. D’Azara, however, speaks of one which was so completely domiciliated as to be left at perfect liberty; it was strongly attached to its master, and never attempted to make its escape. The specimen in the Tower, which is a male, is perfectly good tempered, exceedingly fond of play, and has, in fact, much of the character and manners of the domestic cat. Its food consists principally of rabbits and of birds, the latter of which it plucks with the greatest dexterity, and always commences its meal with their heads, of which it appears to be particularly fond. It does not eat with the same ravenous avidity which characterizes nearly all the animals of his tribe.

THE CARACAL.

Felis Caracal. Linn.

The Caracal, which is unquestionably identical with the Lynx of the Ancients, but whose original name has been, in modern times, usurped by an animal of northern origin, utterly unknown to the Greeks, and distinguished by the Romans by a totally different appellation, is a native of most of the warmer climates of the Old World, infesting probably as large an extent of the surface of the earth as the Lion or the Leopard themselves. Throughout the whole of Africa, from Egypt and Barbary to the extremity of Caffraria, and in the southern half of Asia, at least as far eastwards as the Ganges, he follows, as it were, in the footsteps of those larger and more formidable beasts. So uniformly indeed has he been met with in the train of the Lion, that many early writers, determined to find a reason for every thing, laid it down as a settled fact that the Caracal, equally with the Jackal, although in a different manner, was the Lion’s purveyor; that he accompanied that terrible animal in the pursuit of his prey; pointed it out to him by means of his more delicate nostril and piercing sight; and, when his royal master had finished his meal, received a portion of the flesh in reward for his good and loyal service. But the greater part of this fanciful tale is now known to have had its origin only in the imagination of men who had caught a glimpse of the real truth, and made up for the want of accurate observation by the invention of a theory almost as fabulous as the stories of the ancients, which attributed to the same animal such wonderful powers of sight as to pierce even through stone walls. He follows, it is true, in the traces of the Lion; but, far from associating with him in the pursuit of game, he ventures not, any more than the other beasts of the forest, to trust himself within reach of his paw. His object is solely to satiate his appetite upon the remains of the mangled carcases which the Lion may leave; consequently the latter might with much greater truth and propriety be regarded as the purveyor of the Caracal, who depends perhaps more for his subsistence upon the food thus provided for him, than upon that which he can procure by the exercise of his own powers or sagacity. He frequently, however, indulges his native ferocity in petty ravages on the smaller and more timid quadrupeds, such as hares and rabbits: birds also form a favourite object of his attacks, and in pursuit of them he mounts the tallest trees with surprising swiftness and agility. It is even said that his qualifications for the chase are capable of cultivation; and it has been repeated by travellers, from the days of the celebrated Marco Polo downwards, that the princes of the East occasionally make use of his services in taking small game in nearly the same manner as they employ the subject of the succeeding article for the larger: but from all that we know of his disposition in a state of captivity, this statement appears, to say the least, extremely questionable.

In size the Caracal is somewhat larger than the Fox. The whole of the upper surface of his body is of a deep and uniform brown, the hairs being for the most part slightly tipped with gray; the under and inner parts are nearly white; and the chin and lower lip, and two spots, one on the inner side of and above the eye, and the other beneath its outer angle, completely so. The neck and throat are of a lighter and brighter brown than the rest of the fur. The ears, which are long and upright, taper gradually to a fine tip, which is surmounted by a pencil of long black hairs; they are black externally and whitish within. It is to the striking character afforded by these organs that the animal is indebted for his modern name of Caracal, corrupted from his Turkish appellation, which, equally with that by which he is known in Persia, signifies “black ear.” His whiskers are short, and take their origin from a series of black lines which occupy the sides of the muzzle; at some distance behind them, in front of the neck on each side, is a short and thick tuft of lighter coloured hairs. The tail, which is eight or nine inches in length, is of the same uniform colour with the body from its base to its tip.

The specimen in the Tower, from which our engraving was made and our description taken, is a native of Bengal, a locality from which these animals have been so rarely brought to Europe, that it has been a question among naturalists whether the Caracal of India and that of Africa really belonged to the same species. There is, however, no difference of any importance observable between the present animal and those which have been brought from the latter continent. It is extremely sulky, keeping constantly retired in one of the backward corners of its cage, and swearing, as we express it in the common cat, almost incessantly when conscious of being noticed. The Lynxes indeed appear, at least when in captivity, to exercise this peculiar faculty of voice to a much greater extent than any other species of the group. They are remarkably irascible and mistrustful, and are seldom completely tamed.

THE CHETAH, OR HUNTING LEOPARD.

Felis Jubata. Schreb.

Uniting to the system of dentition, the general habit and many of the most striking peculiarities of the cats, some of the distinguishing features and much of the intelligence, the teachableness, and the fidelity of the dog, the Hunting Leopard forms a sort of connecting link between two groups of animals, otherwise completely separated, and exhibiting scarcely any other character in common than the carnivorous propensities by which both are, in a greater or less degree, actuated and inspired. Intermediate in size and shape between the leopard and the hound, he is slenderer in his body, more elevated on his legs, and less flattened on the fore part of his head than the former, while he is deficient in the peculiarly graceful and lengthened form, both of head and body, which characterize the latter. His tail is entirely that of a cat; and his limbs, although more elongated than in any other species of that group, seem better fitted for strong muscular exertion than for active and long-continued speed. From these indications it may be gathered that he approaches much more nearly to the feline than to the canine group: we shall therefore follow the example of zoologists in general, by referring him for the present and provisionally to the genus Felis, and proceed to point out more particularly the characters by which he is connected with, as well as those by which he is distinguished from, the rest of that formidable and extensive tribe.

In the number and form of his teeth, in the asperity of his tongue, in the conformation of his organs of sense, and in the number of his claws, he accurately corresponds with the legitimate species of the genus Felis. The principal character in which he differs from them consists in the slight degree of retractility of these latter organs. Instead of being withdrawn within sheaths appropriated for the purpose, as in the whole of the cats properly so called, the claws of the Hunting Leopard are capable of only a very limited retraction within the skin, and are consequently exposed to the action of the ground on which they tread, their points and edges being thus rendered liable to be blunted by the constant pressure to which they are subjected, almost to the same extent as in the dogs. The slightest consideration of the uses to which the claws are applied by the whole of the feline tribe, in whom they are, in fact, in consequence of their extreme power and sharpness, organs of offence if possible more deadly and more destructive than the teeth, will teach us that the modification which has just been described in so important a part of their organization, must of necessity be accompanied by a corresponding change in manners and habits; and that convenience alone, and the want of analogous structure in any other animal, could justify us in continuing to class the Chetah among the cats, from whom he differs in so essential a particular.

In outward form, however, notwithstanding his more slender make, the difference between them is by no means great. His head, although more elevated and prominent in front, exhibits the same broad lateral expansion, caused by the thick mass of muscle which acts so powerfully upon the short and dilated jaws of the cats, and imparts to them that tremendous force and effect for which they are so remarkable. His legs, notwithstanding their increased length and slender proportions, retain all the elastic springiness, by means of which the Leopard or the Tiger are enabled to bound with so much vigour and velocity upon their unsuspecting prey. His air and manners, too, are unquestionably those of the cats; and his mode of colouring, which we shall next proceed to describe, although exhibiting very peculiar and marked distinctions, offers so close an analogy to that of the Jaguar and the Leopard, that, were we to regard this character alone, it would be impossible to arrange him in a different group from that which comprehends those beautifully spotted, but ferocious, beasts. His fur, however, it must be remarked, has little of the sleekness which characterizes those animals, but exhibits, on the contrary, a peculiar crispness which is not to be found in any other of the tribe.

His ground-colour is a bright yellowish fawn above, and nearly pure white beneath, covered above and on the sides by innumerable closely approximating spots, from half an inch to an inch in diameter, which are intensely black, and do not, as in the Leopard and others of the spotted cats, form roses with a lighter centre, but are full and complete. These spots, which are wanting on the chest and under part of the body, are larger on the back than on the head, sides, and limbs, where they are more closely set: they are also spread along the tail, forming on the greater part of its extent interrupted rings, which, however, become continuous as they approach its extremity, the three or four last rings surrounding it completely. The tip of the tail is white, as is also the whole of its under surface, with the exception of the rings just mentioned; it is equally covered with long hair throughout its entire length, which is more than half that of the body. The outside of the ears, which are short and rounded, is marked by a broad black spot at the base, the tip, as also the inside, being whitish. The upper part of his head is of a deeper tinge; and he has a strongly marked flexuous black line, of about half an inch in breadth, extending from the inner angle of the eye to the angle of the mouth. The extremity of the nose is black, like that of the dog. The mane, from which he derives his scientific name, is not very remarkable: it consists of a series of longer, crisper, and more upright hairs, which extend along the back of the neck and the anterior portion of the spine.

Such are the outward and physical characteristics of this beautiful animal; in his moral and intellectual qualities he differs still more widely from that compound of unteachableness, malice, and mistrust, which is the necessary result of the low degree of intelligence possessed by the remainder of the group of animals with which he is at present associated. Of his habits in a state of nature we have no certain information; but in his tamed and domesticated condition he has been rendered, in some countries at least, auxiliary to man, by the successful cultivation of his mental faculties, which have been trained into a degree of subservience to the commands of his master, that can only be surpassed by the superior sagacity of the hound. Chardin, Bernier, Tavernier, and others of the older travellers had related that in several parts of Asia it was customary to make use of a large spotted cat in the pursuit of game, and that this animal was called Youze in Persia, and Chetah in India; but the statements of these writers were so imperfect, and the descriptions given by them so incomplete, that it was next to impossible to recognise the particular species intended. We now, however, know with certainty that the animal thus employed is the Felis jubata of naturalists, which inhabits the greater part both of Asia and of Africa. It is common in India and Sumatra, as well as in Persia; and is well known both in Senegal and at the Cape of Good Hope; but the ingenuity of the savage natives of the latter countries has not, so far as we know, been exerted in rendering its services available in the chase in the manner so successfully practised by the more refined and civilized inhabitants of Persia and of Hindostan. In Senegal it is valued only on account of its skin, which forms an important article in the commerce of that colony; while at the Cape, where it is known to the Dutch settlers by the misapplied name of Luipard (Leopard), it seems to be entirely neglected even in a commercial point of view. In the neighbourhood of the latter colony, it should be added, the animal appears from the testimony of travellers to be of rare occurrence; and Professor Lichtenstein, in particular, mentions an instance in which the skin of one was worn by the chief of a horde of Caffres as a badge of peculiar dignity and distinction.

But even in the East, where the qualities of the Chetah appear to be best appreciated, and his faculties to be turned to most account, it would seem that he is not employed in hunting by all classes of the people indiscriminately; but, on the contrary, that he is reserved for the especial amusement and gratification of the nobles and princes of the land, rather than used for purposes of real and general advantage. In this respect, and indeed in many others, as will be seen by the following brief account of the mode in which the chase with the Hunting Leopard is conducted, it bears a close resemblance to the ancient sport of hawking, so prevalent throughout Europe in the days of feudal tyranny, but scarcely practised at the present day except by the more splendid slaves of Asiatic despotism. The animal or animals, for occasionally several of them are employed at the same time, are carried to the field in low chariots, on which they are kept chained and hooded, in order to deprive them of the power and temptation to anticipate the word of command by leaping forth before the appointed time. When they are thus brought within view of a herd of antelopes, which generally consists of five or six females and a male, they are unchained and their hoods are removed, their keepers directing their attention to the prey, which, as they do not hunt by smell, it is necessary that they should have constantly in sight. When this is done, the wily animal does not at once start forwards towards the object of his pursuit, but, seemingly aware that he would have no chance of overtaking an antelope in the fleetness of the race, in which the latter is beyond measure his superior, winds cautiously along the ground, concealing himself as much as possible from sight, and, when he has in this covert manner nearly reached the unsuspecting herd, breaks forth upon them unawares, and after five or six tremendous bounds, which he executes with almost incredible velocity, darts at once upon his terrified victim, strangles him in an instant, and takes his fill of blood. In the meanwhile the keeper quietly approaches the scene of slaughter, caresses the successful animal, and throws to him pieces of meat to amuse him and keep him quiet while he blinds him with the hood and replaces him upon the chariot, to which he is again attached by his chain. But if, as is not unfrequently the case, the herd should have taken the alarm, and the Chetah should prove unsuccessful in his attack, he never attempts to pursue them, but returns to his master with a mortified and dejected air, to be again let slip at a fresh quarry whenever a fit opportunity occurs.

The Chetah has been until of late years very imperfectly known in Europe. Linnæus was entirely unacquainted with it, and Buffon described it from the fur alone under the name of Guêpard, the appellation by which its skin was distinguished in the commerce with Senegal, but evidently without suspecting its identity with the Asiatic animal, the trained habits of which, misled probably by the authority of Tavernier, he erroneously attributed to his imaginary Ounce. Subsequent French zoologists had rectified this error, and it was generally believed that the tamed Leopard of Bernier, the Youze, the Guêpard, and Tavernier’s Ounce, were one and the same animal; but it was not until a year or two ago that the possession of a living specimen, brought from Senegal, in the Menagerie of the Jardin du Roi, enabled M. F. Cuvier to ascertain its characters with precision. The comparison of this African specimen with the skins sent from India, and with the notes and drawings made in that country by M. Duvaucel, to whom we are indebted for a vast deal of interesting information relative to the zoology of the East of Asia, at once put an end to all doubts of the identity of the two animals.

Several individuals have been brought alive to this country at various times; but, notwithstanding the opportunities thus afforded, it does not appear that English naturalists have paid any particular attention to the study of their character and habits. In all probability the earliest that arrived in Europe was one which was brought from India by Lord Pigot, and which was figured by Pennant under the name of the Hunting Leopard. Three others, found at the capture of Seringapatam among the rest of the state paraphernalia of the fallen Sultan, came into the possession of General, afterwards Lord, Harris, who, on his return to England, presented them to his late Majesty, by whose command they were placed in the Tower. They did not, however, long survive the effects of the passage and of the change of climate, which latter has proved equally fatal to the few specimens which have since been brought to this country for public exhibition. They appear, indeed, to be exceedingly delicate in their temperament, and to require considerable attention on the part of their keeper. The pair now in the Tower, if two individuals of the same sex, both of them being males, can be called a pair, were purchased by Mr. Cops a few months since from the captain of a vessel trading to Senegal, to whom they were brought by some of the natives when only a few weeks old and no larger than an ordinary cat. They were the constant inmates of his cabin, and soon became strongly attached to their master, never, as they grew up, exhibiting the slightest symptom of that savage ferocity to which all the larger cats are occasionally more or less prone, even under the most favourable circumstances. Much of this peculiar meekness of temper, which they still maintain, is doubtless owing to the very early age at which they were made captive, as well as to the mild and little stimulating nature of the food to which they have ever since been accustomed. This consists chiefly of boiled meat and meal; and during the winter season, in consequence of the delicacy of their habit, they are supplied with hot mashes, gruel, &c. Their mode of feeding is very like that of the dog.

In size and stature these beautiful animals considerably exceed any that have been seen in this country of late years. They are truly, as may be judged from their portraits, an elegant and graceful pair, having, when led out into the yard in their couples, very much of the air and manners of a brace of greyhounds. When noticed or fondled they purr like a cat; and this is their usual mode of expressing pleasure. If, on the other hand, they are uneasy, whether that uneasiness arises from cold, from a craving after food, from a jealous apprehension of being neglected, or from any other cause, their note consists of a short, uniform, and repeated mew. They are extremely fond of play, and their manner of playing very much resembles that of the cat; with this difference, however, that it never, as in the latter animal, degenerates into malicious cunning or wanton mischief. Their character, indeed, seems to be entirely free from that sly and suspicious feeling of mistrust which is so strikingly visible in the manners and actions of all the cats, and which renders them so little susceptible of real or lasting attachment. The Chetahs, on the contrary, speedily become fond of those who are kind to them, and exhibit their fondness in an open, frank, and confiding manner. There can, in fact, be little doubt that they might with the greatest facility be reduced to a state of perfect domestication, and rendered nearly as familiar and as faithful as the dog himself.

THE STRIPED HYÆNA.

Hyæna vulgaris. Desm.

From the strongly marked group, to the illustration of various species of which the foregoing pages have been dedicated, we pass by a natural and easy transition to an animal, which, although closely resembling them in its zoological characters, and in the cowardly ferocity of its disposition, bears nevertheless a stronger affinity to the dogs, with which it was associated by Linnæus. From each of these groups it is, however, readily distinguished by several obvious and essential characters, of sufficient importance to sanction its separation as a genus, now universally adopted among naturalists.

Like both the cats and the dogs, the Hyænas are completely digitigrade; that is to say, they walk only on the extremities of their toes: but these toes are only four in number on each of their feet, and are armed with short, thick, strong, and truncated claws, which are not in the least retractile, and are evidently formed for digging in the earth, a practice to which they are impelled by a horrid and hateful propensity, which we shall have further occasion to notice in describing their habits and mode of life. Their body, in shape much resembling that of the wolf, to which they also approach very nearly in size, is considerably more elevated in front than behind, owing partly to their constant custom of keeping the posterior legs bent in a crouching and half recumbent posture. Beneath the tail, which is short and dependent, they are furnished with a pouch, in the interior of which is secreted a peculiar matter of a very strong and disagreeable smell. Their head is large and broad, flattened in front, and terminating in a short, thick, and obtuse muzzle. Like most carnivorous animals, they are armed in each jaw with six cutting teeth, and two canine, the latter of which are of considerable size and strength. The outermost pair of incisors in the upper jaw are much larger and stronger than the rest, and closely resemble the canine in form. The number of the molar or cheek teeth is five on each side in the upper jaw, and four in the lower; and all of them are remarkable for their extreme thickness and strength in comparison with those of the dogs and cats. Their tongue is similar to that of the latter animals in the roughness which it derives from the sharp and elevated papillæ with which it is covered.

Of the genus thus characterized there exist two well marked and unquestionably distinct species, the Striped Hyæna, or Hyæna vulgaris of modern zoologists, which there can be no doubt is also the Hyæna of the ancients; and the Hyæna crocuta, or Spotted Hyæna, the Tiger Wolf of the colonists of the Cape of Good Hope. To these may probably be added a third species, which there is good ground for believing to be distinct, and which has lately been described by Dr. Andrew Smith, the superintendant of the South African Museum, under the name of Hyæna villosa: this is also a native of the vicinity of the Cape, and is denominated by the settlers the Strand Wolf, or Strand Jut. With the two latter we have, however, on the present occasion, no concern; the only animal of this genus in the Tower belonging to the striped race, which inhabits the greater part of Asia and of Africa, penetrating in the former as far as India, and extending over all the northern part of the latter continent. It does not appear that the striped and spotted races are ever found to occupy the same ground; but the territorial limits which separate the one from the other have not yet been distinctly ascertained.

The striped Hyæna has for its ground colour a uniform brownish gray, which is somewhat darker above than beneath. On the sides of the body it is marked by several irregular distant transverse blackish stripes or bands, which are more distinct on the lower part. Towards the shoulders and haunches these stripes become oblique, and they are continued in regular transverse lines on the outside of the legs. The front of the neck is completely black, as are also the muzzle and the outsides of the ears; the latter being broad, moderately long, and nearly destitute of hairs, especially on the inside. The hair of the body is long, particularly on the back of the neck and on the spine, where it forms a full and thick mane, which may be said to be continued even upon the tail, the latter organ being furnished with strong tufted hairs of considerable length. The mane and the tail are both marked with blackish spots or stripes variously and irregularly placed. Much variety is indeed to be met with as well in the ground colour of the whole body as in the disposition of the markings, which are extremely different in different individuals.

The habits of the Hyænas are entirely nocturnal: while in the daytime their cowardice is so excessive that they fly from the face of man, and suffer themselves, when taken, to be ill treated with impunity and even without attempting to avenge themselves, they prowl abroad in the stillness of the night with all the temerity of brutal daring. They will frequently make prey of the lesser animals, and will occasionally venture to attack dogs and even horses; but it is seldom that they muster up sufficient courage to contend with living man, unless stimulated by strong provocation, or impelled by the most violent cravings of hunger. Congregated in numerous bands they beset the encampment of the traveller, or infest the neighbourhood of villages or even of towns, which they enter with the fall of night and do not quit until the dawn of day; disturbing the inhabitants with their peculiar moaning or wailing, which is in some measure intermediate between a grunt and a howl. Parading the streets and penetrating into the houses in search of prey, they eagerly devour the offal of animals, the refuse of the daily meal, or whatever else that is in any way eatable may happen to fall in their way. Nothing, however filthy, comes amiss to their voracious appetites, which are indeed unbounded. They even break into the cemeteries of the dead, and tearing open the graves by means of their powerful claws, disinter the buried corpses, on which they glut that horrid propensity for feeding on carrion, which is at once the most striking and the most disgusting of their peculiarities. Their fondness for this polluted species of food tends of course not a little to increase the natural antipathy with which they are regarded by the natives of the countries in which they abound, and renders them objects of peculiar detestation and abhorrence. The great size and strength of their teeth and the immense power of their jaws enable them to crush the largest bones with comparative facility, and account for the avidity with which they prey upon an almost fleshless skeleton. In the daytime they retire into caves, from which they issue only when the shades of evening warn them that the hour for their depredations has arrived. Their gait is awkward and usually slow and constrained; when scared, however, from their prey, or when pursued by the hunter, they fly with tolerable swiftness, but still with an appearance of lameness in their motions, resulting from the constant bending of their posterior legs.

Notwithstanding the brutal voracity of his habits and the savage fierceness of his disposition, there is scarcely any animal that submits with greater facility to the control of man. In captivity, especially when taken young, a circumstance on which much depends in the domestication of all wild animals, he is capable of being rendered exceedingly tame, and even serviceable. In some parts of Southern Africa the spotted species, which is by nature quite as ferocious in his temper as the striped inhabitant of the North, has been domiciliated in the houses of the peasantry, among whom he is preferred to the dog himself for attachment to his master, for general sagacity, and even, it is said, for his qualifications for the chase. That the Striped Hyæna might be rendered equally useful is highly probable from the docility and attachment which he manifests towards his keepers, especially when allowed a certain degree of liberty, which he shows no disposition to abuse. If more closely restricted his savage nature sometimes returns upon him; and it is for this reason that those which are carried about the country from fair to fair, pent up in close caravans, frequently become surly and even dangerous. The individual whose portrait we give is, on the contrary, remarkably tame; he is a native of the East Indies, and is confined in the same den with one of the American Bears, as we shall have occasion to notice more particularly when speaking of the latter animal.

THE HYÆNA-DOG.

Canis pictus. Desm.

It is not without much hesitation that we have adopted for this animal the generic name of Canis, and referred it, in conformity with the example of most of the leading zoologists of the day, to the same group with the Wolf, the Jackal, and the Fox; from all of which it differs in such important particulars as fully entitle it, in our estimation, to the rank of a distinct and separate genus. To this rank it has, indeed, been already raised by Mr. Brookes, under the generic appellation of Lycaon; but as we are not aware that it has been any where described under that name, or that any detailed account has been given of the characters on which that separation is founded, we cannot consider ourselves authorized in a work of this nature to make any innovations upon science, however much we may feel, as in the present instance, that they are called for by the exigency of the case. That its position is at least doubtful is proved by the fact that M. Temminck, one of the ablest of the continental zoologists, first described it from the living animal under the designation of a Hyæna, and, having subsequently changed his opinion, is now disposed to regard it as a species of dog.

For the zoological characters of the latter genus the reader is referred to the following article: at present we shall confine ourselves to the description of the remarkable animal before us, pointing out, as we proceed, the marks by which it differs from both the groups to which it has hitherto been referred, and those by which it is assimilated to either the one or the other. In the shape and elevation of its body it is at first sight distinguished from them both, its legs being considerably longer in relation to its size, and the trunk of its body, as will be seen by the portrait prefixed, being very different in form and proportions. It is entirely destitute of the mane of the Hyæna, and its tail is very similar to that of certain dogs; but, on the other hand, its head approximates very closely, or rather bears a most striking resemblance, to the broad and flattened forehead, and the short and truncated muzzle, which characterize the former genus. It is this latter circumstance no doubt that has induced many naturalists, both popular and scientific, to identify the Wild Dog, as he is called by the settlers at the Cape, with a group of animals from which in every other particular of outward structure, excepting one, it is remarkably and obviously distinct. The only other point of agreement between them consists in the number of its toes, which, like those of the Hyæna, are only four to each foot. This peculiarity, combined with the form of the head, unquestionably affords some ground for placing these animals in close apposition; but is by no means so important, in the absence of other and more essential characteristics, as to warrant their union into a single group. Taken together, however, and in connexion with other features of distinction, these characters may fairly be regarded as sufficiently striking to sanction the separation of the animal now under consideration from the dogs. With the latter it corresponds most completely in the number and form of its teeth, and in the general structure of its skeleton, which differs remarkably from that of the Hyæna.

In size and form it is smaller and more slender than either the Hyæna or the Wolf. Its ground colour is of a reddish or yellowish brown, which is variously mottled in large patches along the sides of the body and on the legs, with black and white intermingled together. Its nose and muzzle are completely black, and it has a strong black line passing from them up the centre of the forehead to between the ears, which are very large, black both within and without, and furnished with a broad and expanded tuft of long whitish hairs arising from their anterior margin and filling up a considerable part of their concavity. There is a lighter patch on the muzzle beneath each of the eyes. The tail is of moderate length, covered with long bushy hair, and divided in the middle by a ring of black, below which or towards the extremity it is nearly white, as are also the fore parts of the legs below the joint. These colours and markings are subject to variation in different individuals; but in their general disposition and appearance they constantly exhibit the greatest similarity.

The Hyæna-Dog, if this compound term may be allowed, is a native of the South of Africa, and infests the frontier settlements at no great distance from the Cape to a very extensive and troublesome degree. Mr. Burchell, to whom we are indebted for the earliest specimen brought to this country, as well as for first pointing out its distinctive characters, informs us that it hunts in regular packs, preferring the night, but frequently pursuing its prey even by day. It is not only exceedingly fierce, but also remarkably swift and active, insomuch that none but the fleeter animals can escape from its pursuit. Sheep, oxen, and horses appear to be its favourite game: on the former it makes its onset openly and without fear, but of the latter it seems to stand in awe, and attacks them only by stealth, frequently surprising them in their sleep, biting off the tails of the oxen, for which it has a particular fancy, and inflicting such serious injuries upon the horses, especially the young colts, as they rarely survive.

The individual brought home by Mr. Burchell was kept by that gentleman chained up in his stable-yard for more than a year; at the expiration of which its ferocity continued unabated; the man who fed it being so fearful of it that he “dared never to venture his hand upon it.” It is nevertheless highly probable that with a somewhat firmer and bolder treatment it might have been in some degree tamed, if not domesticated; for it is stated that it at length became familiar with a dog, which was its constant companion. That which is at present in the Tower was brought to England in company with the youngest of the Cape Lions. They agreed together extremely well; but as the Lion increased in size his play became too rough for his comparatively feeble companion, who was borne to the earth in a moment by the superior weight and strength of his antagonist. Mr. Cops therefore found it necessary to consign them to separate dens. Other companions for the Hyæna-Dog have, however, very recently been obtained, an interesting addition having been made to the stock of the Menagerie by the acquisition of a couple of Spotted Hyænas; a brief notice of which we subjoin, as well as their portraits by way of tail-piece, they having arrived during the progress of the present sheet through the press, and consequently too late for insertion in their proper place.

In size the Spotted Hyæna, the Hyæna Crocuta of naturalists, is somewhat inferior to the striped. Its muzzle, although short, is not so abruptly truncated; and its ears, which are short and broad, assume a nearly quadrilateral figure. Its ground colour is yellowish brown; and the whole body is covered with numerous spots of a deeper brown, tolerably uniform in size, but sometimes not very distinctly marked, and occasionally arranging themselves in longitudinal rows. Its hair is shorter than that of the Striped Hyæna, and although longer on the neck and in the central line of the back than elsewhere, does not form so distinct and well furnished a mane as in the latter animal. The tail is blackish brown, and covered with long bushy hair.

This species appears to be peculiar to Southern Africa. In its wild state it is equally ferocious in its temper and disgusting in its habits with the common species of the North; but it has been found, as we have before mentioned, to be capable of domestication, and of rendering services to man equal to those which he derives from the dog. The pair which have just arrived in the Tower have been placed by Mr. Cops in one den with the Striped Hyæna and with the Hyæna-Dog; and this juxta-position affords an excellent opportunity for a comparison of their characters and disposition. They agree together tolerably well; but the new-comers are hardly as yet reconciled to their abode, and consequently appear shy and reserved. The Hyæna-Dog is the most lively of the group; and his playfulness appears occasionally to give no little annoyance to the Striped Hyæna, who generally returns his solicitations with a surly snarl, but does not seem disposed to resent them farther.

THE AFRICAN BLOODHOUND.

Canis domesticus. Linn. Var.

The generic characters of this well known group, comprehending not only the various races of the Dog, the Wolf, and the Jackal, but also the numerous species of Foxes, which differ from the rest only in the form of the pupils of their eyes (which are round in the former, and transversely linear in the latter) may be shortly enumerated as follows. They are all furnished in the upper jaw with six sharp incisors and two canine teeth in front, and with six molars on each side; the same number of each description is also to be found in the lower, with the addition of a seventh grinder. Their tongue is perfectly smooth, the papillæ which cover it being soft and velvety to the touch, instead of rough and pointed as in the Hyænas and Cats. They have five toes to each of the fore feet, of which only the four outermost touch the ground, the fifth being always more or less elevated. On the hind feet the number of the toes is no more than four, for although the rudiment of a fifth is distinctly visible in the skeleton, it is rarely observable in the living animal. On these toes they constantly support themselves in walking, the soles of their feet, or rather that part of the legs which corresponds to the soles of plantigrade animals, never being applied to the surface of the ground on which they tread. Their claws are blunt, strong, but little curved, and not at all retractile; and their use is evidently limited to turning up the earth. Their muzzle is more or less elongated to afford space for the ample series of lateral teeth; and the strength of their jaws, as well as the extent of opening between them, is by this means much diminished. In most of these particulars they exhibit a striking contrast with the more perfect of the carnivorous races, and afford grounds for expecting an equally manifest falling off from their ferocious and sanguinary propensities. The dogs are in fact by no means equally carnivorous with the cats; and their teeth, especially the grinders, are fitted as well for the demolition of vegetable as of animal substances.

In a wild state, however, they subsist themselves principally by preying upon the inferior animals, feeding with nearly equal relish upon the warm and palpitating fibres of a fresh and almost living victim, and upon the mangled carcass which taints the air with its unsavoury exhalations. Their habitation is in the depths of the forest, where the larger species form themselves dens in the close and thick underwood, while the smaller burrow in the earth for shelter. Their lengthened muzzle and the great extent to which all the cavities connected with the nose are dilated, are admirably fitted for giving to the organ of smell the fullest developement of which it is capable. It is the perfection of this organ, combined with the general lightness and muscularity of their frame and the firm agility of their elongated limbs, which renders many of the species such excellent hunters, by enabling them to scent their prey at an immense and sometimes almost incredible distance, and to run it down in the chase with indefatigable swiftness and unrelaxing pertinacity.

The very terms of the specific character by which Linnæus attempted to distinguish the domesticated from the other dogs, “the tail curved upwards (towards the left),” may be regarded as affording in themselves a sufficient proof of the difficulty of the task, when so great a naturalist, after taking a complete review of all the particulars of their organization, was compelled to rest contented with a distinction drawn from so trifling and apparently insignificant a remark. It would in fact appear to be absolutely impossible to offer in any form of words whatever a character sufficiently comprehensive to combine the almost infinite varieties of this Protean race, and at the same time to separate them from those other races from which they are generally believed to be specifically distinct. To this observation of Linnæus almost the sole addition that has been made by later zoologists consists in a remark of M. Desmarest, that whenever a spot of white is found upon any part of the tail of a domestic dog, the tip of that very variable organ is also constantly white; so that we are still driven to recur to the tail alone for the only uniform physical characteristics that have been pointed out to distinguish an animal, which every one recognises at first sight, and which indeed it is impossible to mistake.

But it is to the moral and intellectual faculties of the Dog that we must look for those remarkable peculiarities which distinguish him in so eminent a degree not only from his immediate neighbours, but also from every other quadruped. Unfortunately we have not the means of comparing him in a pure state of nature with the other animals of his tribe; for although it has been repeatedly attempted to determine his primitive stock, there can be no doubt that upon this point we are still as much as ever in the dark. There exist, however, in various parts of the world, considerable numbers of Dogs, the descendants unquestionably of races formerly domesticated, which, to all appearance, differ but little in their habits and manners from the Wolf and the Jackal, to one or other of which they frequently approach in form, and from each of which it has been confidently asserted that the domestic species was primarily derived. But the doubts to which this striking similarity might otherwise give rise are instantly removed by the readiness with which these wild Dogs submit to the control of man, and become familiarized with that state of servitude to which nature appears to have destined them from the first. Other animals may indeed be tamed; they may become playful, familiar, and even affectionate; but none of them have hitherto been taught, even by long-continued training, to exhibit qualities of mind in any degree comparable to the absolute subserviency, the undeviating attachment, the submissive docility, and the acute intelligence, which these invaluable animals almost spontaneously manifest, when placed in circumstances favourable to their developement.

So much has been written by authors of every description, from the earliest ages down to the present time, upon every point connected with their history and habits, and the space which we could devote to their illustration in the present volume is so small, that we choose rather not to enter at all upon the subject than to treat of it in the very abrupt and imperfect manner to which we should necessarily be restricted. It only remains therefore to add a few observations relative to the extremely beautiful leash of hounds which are figured at the head of the present article, before passing to the consideration of the remaining species of the group which are at present contained in the Menagerie.

These are two males and one female, belonging to the most elegant as well as the most intelligent variety of the species, that to which Linnæus, on account of the high degree to which the latter quality was carried in them, gave par excellence the epithet of sagax. They were presented by Major, now Colonel Denham, on his return from the most successful expedition that has perhaps ever been made into the evil-omened regions of Central Africa, from whence they were brought by that gallant traveller, who also gave Mr. Cops the following account of their qualifications for the chase. He had repeatedly, he said, made use of them in hunting the Gazelle, in their pursuit of which he had observed that they displayed more cunning and sagacity than any dogs with which he was acquainted, frequently quitting the line of scent for the purpose of cutting off a double, and recovering it again with the greatest facility. They would follow a scent after an hour and a half or even two hours had elapsed; and the breed was therefore commonly employed in Africa for the purpose of tracing a flying enemy to his retreat. They are in fact, both for symmetry and action, perfect models; and there are few sportsmen who will not regret that there appears no chance of crossing our own pointers with this interesting breed. A mixed race, combining the qualifications of both, would unquestionably be one of the most valuable acquisitions to our sporting stock; but, unhappily, this union seems to be altogether hopeless; for although they have now been more than three years in England, and are in excellent health and condition, they appear, like many other animals restrained of their liberty and kept constantly together, to have no disposition to perpetuate their race. The males are remarkably good tempered; the female on the contrary is surly and ill natured.

THE WOLF.

Canis Lupus. Linn.

This sullen and forbidding-looking animal, the most ravenous and ferocious that infests the more temperate regions of the earth, of many parts of which he is the terror and the scourge, is distinguished from the humble, generous, and faithful friend of man, the domestic dog, by no very remarkable or striking character; and yet there is something in his physiognomy, gait, and habit, which is at once so peculiar and so repulsive, that it would be almost impossible to confound a Wolf, however tame, with the most savage and the most wolflike of dogs. For the separation of the two species, Linnæus, as we have seen in the preceding article, had recourse to the tail; and having determined that that of the dog was uniformly curved upwards, he attributed to that of the Wolf a completely opposite direction, that is to say, a curvature inwards; assigning, at the same time, a straight or a deflected position to those of all the other animals of the group. The deflected, or down-pointing, direction is, however, equally common in the Wolf with the incurved; and this petty distinction, which has little to do with structure, and still less with habits, is hardly deserving of serious attention. More obvious and more essential differences will be found in the cast of his countenance, which derives a peculiar expression from the obliquity of his eyes; in the breadth of his head, suddenly contracting into a slender and pointed muzzle; in the size and power of his teeth, which are comparatively greater than those of any dog of equal stature; in the stiffness and want of pliability of his limbs; in his uniformly straight and pointed ears; and in a black stripe which almost constantly, and in nearly every variety of the species, occupies the front of the fore leg of the adult. His fur, which differs considerably in texture and colour, from the influence of climate and of seasons, is commonly of a grayish yellow, the shades of which are variously intermingled; as he advances in age it becomes lighter, and in high northern latitudes frequently turns completely white, a change which also takes place in many other animals inhabiting the polar regions.

Entirely dependent upon rapine for his subsistence, the nose of the Wolf is fully equal to that of the sharpest-scented hound. The size and speed of the elk and of the stag are insufficient to protect them from his violence; he pursues them with equal swiftness and cunning, and, when he has succeeded in running them down, finds little difficulty in rendering them his prey. To effect this purpose with the greater certainty he frequently unites himself with a numerous train of his fellows, who are however bound together by no other tie than the common object of their pursuit; and when this is once attained immediately separate and proceed each to his own retreat, whence they again emerge to reunite in the common cause whenever the necessary stimulus is supplied. In inhabited countries he seldom ventures to show himself openly or in packs, but sleeps away the greater part of the day in the shelter of the forest, and only prowls abroad by night when impelled by the cravings of his appetite. The sheep-cote and the farm-yard become then the scenes of his ravages; and such is his ingenuity, and so great the rapidity of his motions, that he will frequently carry off his prey almost before the eyes of the shepherd, although the warning voice of the watchful dog had given timely notice of the approach of the marauder. His ferocity is sometimes carried to such a pitch that he becomes dangerous to man; and when hard pressed by famine, to which in spite of all his skill in the chase and his sagacity in the pursuit of meaner rapine he is by no means a stranger, he will fall at unawares upon the solitary and unprotected traveller, or, prowling about the habitation of the villager, carry off from it his unsuspecting and defenceless children.

Happily for England this formidable beast has long been extirpated from its woods; but the comparative extent of his domain has been thereby but little reduced. It may be roughly stated as comprehending the whole northern hemisphere, of which only very small portions are exempted from his ravages. He is easily tamed when young, and may even (according to M. F. Cuvier, who has published a history of a domesticated individual bordering in many particulars very closely on the marvellous, but of the truth of which the well known character of that scientific naturalist is a sufficient guarantee) be rendered susceptible of the highest degree of attachment to his master, whom he will remember after prolonged and repeated absence, and caress with all the familiar fondness of a dog. Such traits as this are, however, to say the least, very uncommon; and he is, even in captivity, generally speaking, ill tempered and morose. The old male, the father of the litter now in the Tower, was extremely savage; the female, on the contrary, is very tame, and, which is more remarkable, continued so even during the period of suckling her young, which were five in number. Neither before, at, nor after this period did her temper undergo any change: she suffered her keepers to handle her cubs, of which she was excessively fond, and even to remove them from the den, without evincing the smallest symptom either of anger or alarm.

THE CLOUDED BLACK WOLF.

Canis nubilus. Say.

To distinguish between the numerous races of Wolves which are scattered more or less abundantly over nearly the entire surface of the earth; to determine that such and such variations are the result of original formation, and that such and such others are merely the product of accidental circumstances; in other words, to establish clear and tangible grounds of specific distinction between animals so varied in external appearance, but corresponding so perfectly in every essential particular, while the shades of character by which they differ, although in many cases strikingly marked, are for the most part so unimportant, or so little permanent, as scarcely to be deserving of notice,—is unquestionably one of the most difficult problems, to the solution of which the zoologist has to apply himself.

In internal and anatomical structure, on which modern naturalists are agreed that the greatest reliance ought to be placed in the distinction of closely approximating species, there is in the various races of Wolves no deviation from the common type of sufficient importance to warrant their separation from each other; neither does their outward form, excepting only in size and in the comparative measurement of parts, differ in any remarkable degree. In colour it is true that the most striking variations are observable, their hair exhibiting almost every intermediate shade between the opposite extremes of black and white. But it must be obvious that on this character, taken by itself, it would be absurd to insist as a ground of specific distinction, when we reflect on the influence which climate and other external accidents must necessarily exercise on animals so extensively dispersed, and so variously circumstanced.

There are, however, strong grounds for believing that the fine pair of animals, whose portraits are prefixed to the present article, exhibit real and substantial marks of distinction of sufficient value to sanction their separation from the other species. Considerably larger and more robust than the Common Wolf, and differing greatly in the expression of their physiognomy, neither in figure nor in countenance are they remarkable for that starved and gaunt appearance which is the common and well known attribute of the latter. In fact, they have altogether a more fierce and formidable, but at the same time a more noble and less sinister, aspect. Their hair, which is of considerable length, especially along the middle of the back and shoulders, where it forms a sort of indistinct and scattered mane, is mottled with various shades of black, gray, and white, giving to the whole animal that dark and clouded colour which constitutes one of its most peculiar and striking characteristics. The colouring, which, on the upper parts of the body, is deep black, becomes somewhat lighter on the sides, and assumes a yet lighter shade beneath: the chin and angles of the mouth are nearly white; the gray tinge predominating over the darker shades in various other parts, but by no means in so regular a manner as to merit a particular description. The ears are remarkably short; and the tail is also somewhat shorter in proportion than that of the common wolf, not reaching, in its solid form, beneath the posterior bend (which in all these animals is formed by the heel) of the hind legs.

The animals at present in the Tower, the only individuals of this species that have been brought alive to Europe, were presented about four years since by the Hudson’s Bay Company, by some of whose hunters they had been trapped in the northern regions of America. A fine skin of the same species was brought home by the late overland expedition to those countries, under the command of Captain Franklin, and presented to the Museum of the Zoological Society. There is also another instance of its occurrence recorded in the capture of a solitary specimen, in the Missouri territory, by the party engaged in Major Long’s expedition from Pittsburgh to the Rocky Mountains. This specimen was accurately described, in the notes to the published narrative of that expedition, by Mr. Say, who at once recognised it as a distinct species, and affixed to it the scientific name which we have adopted without hesitation for these animals, with the most striking peculiarities of which his description coincides in every essential particular.

Their habits in a state of nature are, in all probability, perfectly similar to those which characterize their immediate neighbours, from which, in captivity, they differ in no remarkable degree. Like the common kind, they are exceedingly voracious, tearing their meat and swallowing it in large gobbets, and afterwards gnawing the bones (for which they frequently quarrel) with truly wolvish avidity. Although they have been so long confined, they retain their original ferocity undiminished: a circumstance, it may be mentioned by the way, which has prevented us from giving their measurement. Judging, however, from the eye, we may confidently venture to assert that their size, especially that of the male, is considerably superior to that of the specimen described by Mr. Say, which measured about four feet and a quarter from the tip of the nose to the origin of the tail.

THE JACKAL.

Canis aureus. Linn.

The Jackal, one of the greatest pests of the countries which he inhabits, is spread over nearly the whole of Asia and the north of Africa, occupying in the warmer regions of those continents the place of the Wolf, of whom in many particulars he may be considered as offering a miniature resemblance. In size he is about equal to the common fox, but he differs from that equally troublesome animal in the form of the pupils of his eyes, which correspond with those of the dog and of the wolf, in the comparative shortness of his legs and muzzle, in his less tufted and bushy tail, and in the peculiar marking of his coat. The colouring of his back and sides consists of a mixture of gray and black, which is abruptly and strikingly distinguished from the deep and uniform tawny of his shoulders, haunches, and legs: his head is nearly of the same mixed shade with the upper surface of his body, as is also the greater part of his tail, which latter, however, becomes black towards its extremity; his neck and throat are whitish, and the under surface of his body is distinguished by a paler hue.

Unlike the wolf or the fox, he always associates himself with his species in numerous troops, which burrow together in the earth, hunt in concert, and act in conjunction for their mutual defence. These bands not only prey upon the smaller quadrupeds and domestic poultry, but, emboldened by their numbers, give chase to and attack the larger animals. They frequently follow in the train of more noble beasts, and make their meal off the remains of the carcases which have been half devoured by the Lion or the Tiger. When taken they become almost immediately tame and docile; offering no resistance and evincing no signs of ferocity. The specimen in the Tower is remarkably quiet; it is a male, and has been a resident for upwards of three years.

THE CIVET, OR MUSK CAT.

Viverra Civetta. Linn.

The group of animals to which we have next to turn our attention is perhaps the most puzzling, and certainly the least understood, among the true Carnivora; hence there exists no little difficulty in defining its limits and distinguishing the species which compose it. Under the generic name of Viverra, Linnæus comprehended a series, or, to speak more properly, a congeries, of quadrupeds, differing from each other so remarkably in form, in structure, and in habits, as to render it absolutely impossible to find characters by which they might be circumscribed and isolated from their fellows. His definition of the genus therefore, although purposely expressed in terms the most vague and indistinct, neither excludes such animals as from their obvious affinities he could not refrain from referring to other groups, nor includes full one half of the species which he has arranged beneath it. The Ichneumon of the Nile, the Suricate of the Cape, the Coati of South America, the Stinking Weasels of the North, the Civet of Barbary, the Genette of the East, the Ratel of South Africa, and others equally distant in affinity, were sweepingly compelled into this ample receptacle, which was converted into a genuine “refuge for the houseless,” in which every carnivorous quadruped, known, unknown, or imperfectly known, that appeared to be without a place elsewhere, was charitably afforded a temporary asylum.

In this arrangement, which brought animals truly digitigrade, with retractile claws, tongues covered with sharp papillæ, canine teeth of great power, and molars formed for tearing flesh, consequently in a high degree sanguinary and carnivorous in their habits, into close and intimate contact with others, which are positively plantigrade, with exserted claws, smooth tongues, and teeth of little power and evidently incapable of lacerating animal food, and which are therefore in all cases more or less, and in several instances wholly, vegetable eaters, it was impossible for naturalists long to coincide. The genus thus formed presented so heterogeneous a combination, that the difficulty was rather where to stop in the dispersion of the dissimilar materials of which it was composed, than where to commence the necessary operation; and in consequence nearly a dozen genera, not hanging together in one continued series, but scattered through various parts of the system, and most of them essentially distinct, have been the result of the dismemberment of this single group.

The true Civets, to which the genus Viverra is now restricted, yield in the extent of their carnivorous propensities to the cats alone, whom they approach very closely in many points of their zoological character, as well as in their predatory, sanguinary, and nocturnal habits. In addition to the six incisors and two canines, which are common to the whole of the true Carnivora, they have on each side and in each jaw six molars, one of which is peculiarly adapted for lacerating flesh, while the rest are more or less of the ordinary form. Their tongues are furnished with the same elevated and pointed papillæ which give so remarkable an asperity to those of the cats; and their claws are half retractile. The toes are five in number on each of the feet, and their extremities alone are applied to the ground in walking; the animals are consequently completely digitigrade. But the most distinctive character of the group consists in an opening near the tail, leading into a double cavity of considerable size, furnished with glands and follicles for the secretion of the peculiar odoriferous substance so well known as the produce of the Civet, and from which the animal derives his name.

The present species is from two to three feet in length, exclusive of the tail, which is nearly half as much more; and stands from ten to twelve inches high. His body, which is more elongated in its form than that of any of the animals hitherto described, is covered with long hair, the ground colour of which is of a brownish gray intermingled with numerous transverse interrupted bands or irregular spots of black. A series of longer hairs of the latter colour occupy the middle line of the back, from between the shoulders to the extremity of the tail, and form a kind of mane, which may be raised or depressed at pleasure. The legs and greater part of the tail are perfectly black, and the upper lip and sides of the neck nearly white. A large patch of black surrounds each eye, and passes from it to the angle of the mouth; and two or three other bands of the same colour pass obliquely from the base of the ears towards the shoulder and neck, the latter of which is marked by a broad black patch.

In his natural habits the Civet closely resembles the fox and the less powerful species of cats, subsisting by rapine, and attacking the birds and smaller quadrupeds, which form his principal food, rather by night and by surprise than by open force and in the face of day: reduced to a state of captivity, he becomes moderately tame, but not sufficiently so to allow himself to be handled with impunity. In many parts of Northern Africa large numbers of them are kept for the purpose of obtaining their perfume, which bears a high price and is much esteemed. The individual sketched above is a male of large size, and remarkable for never having deposited any of the perfume, although for more than twelve months an inhabitant of the Menagerie.

THE JAVANESE CIVET.

Viverra Rasse. Horsf.

The present species is remarkably distinct from the preceding both in form and colour. Its ground is of a much lighter gray, on which it offers a broad longitudinal dorsal line of black, and two or three narrower ones of the same colour on each side, composed of confluent spots. These spots are also thickly but somewhat irregularly scattered over the rest of the body, and may be considered as forming a series of flexuous dotted lines. The legs are black externally; and the head is grayish and without spots. A deep longitudinal black line occupies the side of the neck above, and a second more oblique is placed below. The body, which is from fifteen to eighteen inches in length, is narrow and compressed, and more elevated behind than before; the back is strongly arched. The line of the profile is perfectly straight, the muzzle narrow and tapering, and the ears short and rounded. The tail is of equal length with the body, and tapers gradually to the tip; it is marked with eight or nine broad rings of black, alternating with an equal number of grayish.

Like the other animals of its group, its habits are predatory; in confinement it retains much of its original ferocity, and is extremely spiteful and savage. The two individuals from which our figure was taken have inhabited the Menagerie for nearly twelve months; they are both males, and occupy different dens. They are fed, like the preceding, and indeed like all the carnivorous quadrupeds which it remains to mention, on a mixture of vegetable and animal food; and deposit large quantities of civet, which strongly impregnates the air of the apartment in which they are kept. This perfume is highly esteemed by the Javanese, who apply it not only to their dresses, but also to their persons. Even the apartments and furniture of the natives of rank are generally scented with it to such a degree as to be offensive to Europeans.

THE GRAY ICHNEUMON.

Ichneumon Griseus. Geoff.

From the Civets, to which it closely approaches in the number and in some degree also in the form of its teeth, in the asperity of its tongue, and in the semi-retractility of its claws, the group of which the Egyptian Ichneumon forms the type is distinguished by its narrower and more pointed muzzle, by the shortness of its lower lip, and more especially by the absence of the double cavity beneath the tail, which is replaced by a single pouch of considerable size, but destitute of secreting glands. Their hair is long, crisp, brittle, and always more or less variegated in colour, in consequence of each separate hair being marked by alternate rings of different shades.

The colour of the species now before us, which is a native of India, is a pale gray, the hairs being for the most part of a dirty yellowish white, relieved towards their extremities by narrow rings of brown. The head and limbs are darker than the rest of the body.

The habits of the Ichneumons are very similar to those of the ferret. In the localities where they abound, their sanguinary disposition and predatory inclinations render them a real pest to the farm-yard, to which they pay their nocturnal visits for the purpose of destroying the poultry. They also make war upon rats, birds, and reptiles, and devour the eggs of the latter with the greatest avidity. Endowed with a remarkable degree of courage in proportion to their size, they do not hesitate to attack any animal that is not obviously more than a match for them. Even in captivity they retain much of their native spirit; and so great is their activity and determination that the individual now in the Tower actually on one occasion killed no fewer than a dozen full grown rats, which were loosed to it in a room sixteen feet square, in less than a minute and a half. They are very easily tamed, become attached to those with whom they are familiar and to the house in which they live, and will follow their master about almost like a dog.

THE PARADOXURUS.

Paradoxurus typus. F. Cuv.

Although the division of the true Carnivora into digitigrade and plantigrade is in many respects objectionable, we feel compelled, in conformity with established rules, to remove the animal before us from its most obvious affinities, to arrange it among the latter; placing it, however, at the commencement of that division and nearly in contact with the viverrine groups, to which it is so intimately allied, as to have been actually confounded by Buffon with the common Genette; a mistake, which was first clearly pointed out by M. F. Cuvier, but which has obtained so generally among naturalists, that the Paradoxurus is still commonly exhibited under that erroneous name. From the Genettes and Civets it differs little in its general form and habits; its teeth are nearly similar; and its toes and nails closely correspond in number and in their degree of retractility. But it is entirely destitute of the secretory pouch; and, in addition to its plantigrade walk, it exhibits a very peculiar structure in the tail. This organ is as long as the body, and flattened above and below; when extended, the further half is turned over so as to place its lower side uppermost, and the animal has it in its power to roll it up into a spire, commencing from above downwards, to the very base.

The colour of the species varies in different lights: in general it may be described as grayish black, with a tinge of yellow. On this ground it is marked with one broad dorsal, and on each side two or three narrower, indistinct black lines. The under jaw, the legs, and the greater part of the tail are entirely black; and there is a whitish spot above and under each of its eyes.

India and the larger Asiatic Islands appear to be its native country; but nothing certain is known of its habits in a state of nature: in captivity it is sullen and irascible, and evinces no affection for its keeper, appearing in fact totally insensible to the attentions which it receives.

THE BROWN COATI.

Nasua narica. F. Cuv.

The characters of the genus to which this curious little animal belongs resemble so closely in the most important particulars those of the other plantigrade Carnivora, that it will here be sufficient to explain those points alone in which the Coatis differ from their immediate affinities. From the Bears they are essentially distinguished by the general form of their body, which in some measure approaches that of the viverrine group; by their physiognomy, which is altogether peculiar, and by their elongated tail, which is nearly equal in length to their body. From the Racoons their generally lengthened form, and especially that of the snout, which is in fact their most obvious and striking characteristic, are fully sufficient to distinguish them. In the Coatis this organ is produced in a most remarkable degree; and it is terminated by a muzzle so extremely flexible that, when the attention of the animal is excited, it is kept in constant action and moved about in all directions.

The Coatis are barely equal in size to the common fox: they inhabit the woods of South America, and live upon fruits, insects, and reptiles, climbing trees in pursuit of their prey with great agility. In captivity they are easily tamed, and are fond of being caressed; but exhibit no peculiar symptoms of attachment.

Three supposed species have been described; but naturalists in general are at present inclined to admit of no more than two; and even with regard to these we have yet no sufficient proof that they are really more than strongly marked varieties. The one from which our figure was taken belongs to the brown kind, which is distinguished from the other chiefly by its darker colour both above and below, and by the blackness of the sides of its snout. The tails of both species are usually encircled by rings alternately black and fulvous; and each has the eye surrounded by three white spots.