Whether there be anything in their surroundings at sea that makes animals more to the taming process is, perhaps, not a question to be easily answered. But one thing is certain: that nowhere do animals become tame with greater rapidity than they do on board ship. It does not seem to make a great deal of difference what the animal is, whether bird or beast, carnivore or herbivore, takes it in hand with the most surprising results, evident in so short a time that it is often difficult to believe that the subject is not merely simulating tameness in order to exercise his powers upon his master or masters in an unguarded moment.  
Of course, on board merchant ships the range of variety among pets is somewhat restricted. Cats, dogs, monkeys, pigs, sheep, goats, musk-deer, and birds (of sorts) almost exhaust the list; except among the whale-ships, where the lack of ordinary subjects for taming lead men to try their hand upon such queer pets as , white bears, and even seal-pups, with the usual success. Few pets on board ship ever presented a more ungainly appearance than the . Accustomed to its massive bulk in the helpful wave, and only for very brief hooking itself up on[335] to a passing ice-floe as if to convince itself that it really is one of the amphibia, the change in its environment to the smooth deck-planks of a ship is truly . And yet it has often been known not only to survive such a change, but to appear and happy therein. Its with the sailors are not to be described; but they are so funny that no one could witness them without laughter, especially when the , appearance of even the most youthful walrus is remembered—and, of course, only very young could possibly be obtained alive. But, after all, the morse has its limitations as a pet. Tamed as it often has been, and affectionate as it becomes, it never survives for a great while its privation of sea-bathing, and to the grief of its friends generally abandons the attempt to become before the end of the season. The white bear, on the other hand, when caught young is a great success as a pet, and develops a fund of humour as well as intelligence that one would certainly never suspect from the appearance of the animal’s head. Bears are the humorists of the animal kingdom, as any one may verify for himself who chooses to watch them for a few days at the Zoological Gardens, but among them all for pure fun commend us to Ursa Polaris. Perhaps to appreciate the play of a pet white bear it is necessary to be a rough and tough whaleman, since with the very best intentions his bearship is apt to be a little heavy-pawed. And as when his claws grow[336] a very slight mistake on his part is apt to result in the permanent disfigurement of his playmate, his days of pethood are always cut suddenly short as he approaches full growth. Seal-pups have no such drawbacks. They are pretty, affectionate, and domestic, while an occasional douche of salt water from the wash-deck tub will suffice to keep them in good health and spirits for a long time. Such favourites do they become that it is hard to understand how the same men, who will spend much of their leisure playing with the gentle, creatures, can at a moment’s notice resume the crude barbarity of seal-slaughtering with all its attendant horrors of detail. Apart from his cumbrous movements on deck, the seal seems adapted for a ship’s pet. He is so intelligent, so in touch with his human playmates, that after a short acquaintance one ceases to be surprised at his teachability; it is taken as a matter of course.
 
Ordinary merchant ships are, as before , confined to a limited range of pets. Chief among them is the harmless necessary cat, about which the present writer has written at considerable length in a recent number of the Spectator. But the cat’s quiet domesticity never seems to take such a firm hold upon seamen’s affections as does the livelier friendship of the dog. A dog on board ship is truly a favoured animal. So much so that dogs will give themselves almost as many airs and graces as the one unmarried young lady usually does in the midst of a number of male passengers,[337] and with much the same results. Once, indeed, the presence of two dogs on board of a large ship on an East Indian voyage nearly led to a mutiny. They were both retrievers, the property of the master. But almost from the commencement of the voyage one of them, a fine black dog, “Sailor,” cast in his lot with the men “forrard,” where he was petted and spoiled, if a dog can be spoiled by petting. The other dog, a brown, animal called “,” kept to the officers’ quarters. And presently the two pets by some sort of tacit understanding divided the deck between them, the main hatch constituting a sort of neutral ground beyond which neither might pass without a fight. Now, there were also some pets on board of a totally different kind, to wit, three fine pigs, who, contrary to the usual custom, were allowed to roam unpenned about the decks. A fellow-feeling, perhaps, led ............