HOW WILD BEASTS ARE TAUGHT TRICKS
The next stage in the training of a lion is for the trainer to enter the cage again with the chair and stick. No longer militant, but somewhat timid, the animal keeps in his corner, furtively watching the trainer. Little by little, the man edges the chair over until he is within reach; then he begins to rub the lion with his stick. Little by little he decreases the distance still more, until, finally, he has his hand on the lion’s shoulder and is patting him gently.
This is another great step in advance. The lion has learned to endure the touch of the human hand; although he murmurs sulkily, he likes it, for few animals are indifferent to petting. Day by day the trainer familiarizes the lion with his presence and touch; rubbing144 his back, stroking his shoulders, raising his paws,—a somewhat risky and ticklish trial,—and in the course of about two weeks after first entering the cage, if the animal be of fairly good temper, all alarm and overt enmity have been eradicated, so accustomed has the animal become to the presence of this one man.
After this he is taught to back until he reaches the rear of the cage, and then made to lie down. After a time he is made to lie down and stand up, at either the word of command or at a certain cue, and after each act of obedience he is given a small piece of raw meat as a reward. If he does not obey, he gets no reward, and in time the habit becomes strong, and he does what is required of him, whether he gets anything for it or not.
Then comes another period of extreme danger for the trainer. This is when the animal first enters the arena. He finds himself in a place which seems vast after a cage, and becoming a little bewildered at the strange surroundings, behaves in an entirely different manner. Many animals who have been taught to perform in comparatively small cages have145 to be trained all over again when in the arena. In the big arena, therefore, the training of the animals has to be practically begun anew.
This is one reason why trainers are always so anxious to get their animals out of the training-schools and -cages and into the arena as soon as possible. But they are liable to get them there too soon sometimes, which is extremely dangerous. I have already explained why a lion is first put into a small cage to begin with. If he goes into the arena too soon, he is more apt to spring at the trainer, because he has not yet become tractable and docile enough.
On first entering the arena, the lion runs round and round, seeking some place to escape, because his surroundings are strange. He is also rather frightened, for anything unusual or strange always makes a wild animal, especially a lion, nervous; but the trainer’s quiet presence and voice generally soothe him after a while, and he soon gets used to it. An entire day is generally taken to accustom the lion to his new surroundings,146 and he is then put through several evolutions, just as in the smaller cage.
Beginning at this point, the training or education of an animal is simply the application to more advanced work of the principles already followed. It is progress beyond a kind of kindergarten, and learning by association has everything to do with it. The animal is becoming amenable to the mastery of man, and in doing so his own reason is being developed. From this time on he begins to take a new interest in life. That instinct of action, which he has inherited from his ancestors and which has been slumbering, is awakened, and he is learning to know and enjoy the cultivated exercise.
He works gradually into the harness, and soon becomes an adept at the work which he has been taught with so much painstaking patience. But he always remains an animal, his natural instincts are always paramount, and though he may go through his performances meekly, and even with a certain amount of interest, there are always deep down in him an inborn distrust and fear of man.
TRAINED BUT NOT TAMED
149 The only trainer, therefore, who has any business in a cage with such animals is one who thoroughly understands their nature, who knows all their weaknesses and characteristics, and who fears their strength. If I ever hear a trainer make a remark to the effect that, after all, there is nothing to be afraid of when once an animal is trained, I know that man is unfit to be a trainer at all. The man who makes the best trainer is the one who realizes their treachery, and knows that there is danger at all times and in all places with wild animals, no matter how well trained they may be. As I said before, no wild animal is ever tamed, only trained, and the best training in the world is nothing when once the animal feels inclined to give way to his natural savage instincts.
In time, the trained animal becomes so accustomed to performing, that when he sees the paraphernalia of his performance he knows exactly what is expected of him, and does it naturally and readily. The successful performance of all trained animals depends on this almost instinctive following of long-accustomed150 habit, together with the pleasure the exercise gives to animals habitually confined in small cages.
Leopards, panthers, and jaguars are all trained in much the same manner. Mme. Morelli puts them through a course of training very similar to that given the lion. They are taught to respect and look for the trainer, and have instilled into them as much awe as is ever bred in any animal, which is not saying a great deal. The jaguar, leopard, and panther become used to the association of the trainer, and are finally willing, through much coaxing and coercion, to perform such elementary feats as are required of them.
The stick is the instrument for the education of these animals in the same manner as in the case of the lion. To begin with, a broomstick is laid on the floor, and the trainer steps to the back of the stage, apparently unarmed, leaving the stick in full sight, the animal crouching in the rear of the cage. After a few moments’ hesitation, with the tense, strained tightening of his leg-muscles,—which all trainers know so well as a signal of151 danger,—the animal launches its sleek, compact, sinewy body full upon the unprotected broomstick.
The dull wood, like a craven, has not spunk enough to respond. It accepts the punishment as a Chinaman does in battle, with no apparent expectation of anything different. The animal, disgusted, leaves the stick and launches himself at the trainer. The trainer, small and delicate woman as she is, meets the charge with coolness and that quiet reserve force which stands all trainers in such good stead. The broomstick is not her only weapon. She has another: an iron prong, heavy, thick, and with a point dull enough to leave whatever skin it touches unlacerated, but sharp enough to remind any animal that he is in poor business in an attack on it, when held in the hands of a determined trainer.
The prong is attached to the end of a stick much larger and longer than the first stick, and against that combination the animal throws himself. He comes out of the encounter with a cowed air and an added respect for the small woman who held it. He slinks152 again into his corner, but allows himself to be finally coaxed out and stroked with the very stick which had resisted his first spring in such a decided manner.
Finally, the stick is laid on the floor, and after much persuasion, the animal is induced to walk over it, which he does, hissing and snarling. He is led over it again and again, and fails to notice that each time the stick is raised a little from the floor, until finally he finds, somewhat to his surprise and discomfiture, that when he walks over the stick he has to make quite a spring in order to get over it at all. Before this stick incident is finished, he jumps over a stick raised as high as a chair.
No animal is ever allowed to backslide. Each thing done one day must be done the next day in exactly the same way; there must be no deviation from the rule. This is the reason that in every animal act the trainer positively insists upon perfect adherence to the regular formula. Such is the force of habit that laxity to-day means a desire for laxity to-morrow at the same place and in the same way, and laxity in one small detail will155 breed the tendency for it, which will then in all probability spread and in a short time affect the whole performance. This is why everything is done with such careful attention to detail.
“DEPEW”
If an animal is sent to the right side on entering the arena the first day, ............