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to eat with him, but the tiger generally appeared rather dissatisfied with this liberty. The tiger would allow this diminutive creature to play with him with the greatest good nature. It would bark at him, and bite him by the foot and mouth, without the tiger's expressing the least displeasure. When the dog, in its frolic, seized his foot, he merely lifted it up out of its mouth, and seemed otherwise heedless of its attacks. Strange dogs were several times put into this tiger's den, without his attempting to injure them. Mr. Cross, the keeper of Exeter Change, said that he should not have been afraid to venture into the den himself. The ship-carpenter, who came over with this tiger, came to the Tower to see him. Though they had been separated two years the animal knew him, rubbed himself backwards and forwards against the grating of his den, and appeared highly delighted. The man entreated to be let into the den, and the emotions of the animal were roused in the most grateful manner; he rubbed himself against him, licked his hands, and fawned upon him like a cat. The man remained two or three hours in the den, and indeed had some difficulty in getting out, so close did the affectionate creature keep to him. He at last managed to get the tiger beyond the partition of the two dens, and the keeper, watching his opportunity, closed the slide, and separated them. A very fine tiger in Atkins' menagerie was particularly gentle, allowing its keeper to treat it as he pleased; its movements were particularly graceful.
The tiger is fond of perfumes. A lady, who frequently visited the Zoological Gardens, was in the habit of holding her handkerchief scented with lavender-water to the bars of the tiger's cage, and the animal appeared to derive great pleasure from smelling the perfume; after a time he knew her, and would, when she approached, rise up and come to the front of the cage. Although there can be no doubt that the tiger is capable of being tamed, they are not to be incautiously trusted. The natural disposition is always ready to break out; and the mildest of them, though
"Ne*er so tame, so cherished, so locked up,
Thus Bontius states, that in 1628 a tiger at Batavia, which had been brought up from a cub and accustomed to men all its life, escaped from its cage, fastened on a horse which was feeding near and killed it, so that the citizens rose upon the tiger and killed it, to prevent further mischief. In the "Penny Cyclopaedia" is the following account of a fearful encounter with one of these animals. About the year 1802, a tiger had been purchased by Mr. Alpey to send to the Emperor of Germany, and placed in the Tower, there to remain for a few days till the ship, destined to convey the animal, was ready. The beast was confined in a large sufficiently ventilated wooden cage, lined with iron hoops, some of which he ripped off during the first night of his confinement, and gnawed the cage partly through. This being perceived the cage was repaired, by the addition only of a strong piece of wood nailed on the outside. The consequence might well be expected. The tiger renewed his efforts, and in the course of the following night made his escape, and sprung upon a wall ten feet high, where he remained till the keeper, Mason, came in the morning. The fear of losing such a valuable animal induced this poor fellow to hazard his life in an attempt to secure the tiger. For this purpose he engaged a sergeant and some other persons to assist him, whom he placed in a room, the door of which opened upon the leads, from whence he could reach the animal. He then provided himself with a strong rope, one end of which he gave through the window to his companions, and with the other, having a running noose upon it, he slowly approached the tiger and threw it over his neck. This was the critical moment; the people within were directed to pull the rope and secure the animal; unfortunately the noose slipped off, and the enraged creature immediately sprung upon the keeper, fixing his teeth in the fleshy part of his arm, and tearing his breast and hand in a shocking manner with his claws. In this dreadful situation the keeper lay under the tiger, while the sergeant cut a bullet into four parts, and having loaded his musket he fired through the window at the animal, who, the moment he received the shot, quitted his hold; and, after staggering for a few minutes, expired. The bullet, however, which destroyed the tiger had nearly been equally fatal to the man, one of the quarters having glanced against his temple, and deprived him of all sense and motion for a considerable time. Nevertheless, after keeping his bed a fortnight, he gradually recovered, though he will carry the marks of his enemy about with him as long as he lives.
A small tigress, some years since, made her escape from the Zoological Gardens in the Regent's Park, and at about dusk on a summer's evening she was met quietly walking down the road, to the great consternation of a lady and gentleman, who, at first sight, could not conceive what creature it could be. They rushed into the nearest house, the animal apparently not heeding them; her attention was drawn to a fine house-dog, chained on the other side of some palings. She instantly sprung upon the unfortunate animal, and the alarm having been given, she was easily recaptured whilst finishing her repast, by the keepers throwing a net over her.