crouched there and snarled at me, I played a tattoo with
my whip-handle on the floor just in front of her. It was just a sort of
flourish to finish off with, and it was one thing too much; for in doing
this I turned quite away from the rest of the group and made Brutus
think that I meant to hurt the lioness. He said to himself: 'Hullo!
Here's a stranger in our cage taking a whip to Spitfire. I'll just
settle _him_.' And before I could move he sprang twenty feet off his
pedestal, set his fangs in my thigh, and dragged me over to Bianca, as
if to prove his gallantry. Then the Frenchwoman did a clever thing: she
clasped her arms around his big neck, drew his head up, and fired her
revolver close to his ear. Of course she fired only a blank cartridge,
but it brought Brutus to obedience, for that was Bianca's regular signal
in the act for the lions to take their pedestals; and the habit of his
work was so strong in the old fellow that he dropped me and jumped back
to his place.

"There wasn't any more to it except that I lay five weeks in bed with my
wounds. But this will show you how Bianca loved those lions: she
wouldn't let me lift a hand to punish Brutus. Of course I called for
irons as soon as I got up, and, wounded or not, I would have taught Mr.
Brutus a few things before I left that cage if I could have had my way.
But Bianca pleaded for him so hard--why, she actually cried--that I
hadn't the heart to go against her. She said it was partly my own fault
for turning my back,--which was true,--and that Brutus was a good lion
and had only tried to defend his mate, and a lot more, with tears and
teasing, until I let him off, although I knew I could never enter
Brutus's cage again after leaving it without showing myself master.
That's always the way with lions: if you once lose the upper hand you
can never get it back."

III

BONAVITA DESCRIBES HIS FIGHT WITH SEVEN LIONS AND GEORGE ARSTINGSTALL
TELLS HOW HE CONQUERED A MAD ELEPHANT

IN the course of days spent with Mr. Bostock and his menagerie, I
observed many little instances of the tamer's affection for his animals.
I could see it in the constant fondling of the big cats by Bostock
himself, and by Bonavita, his chief tamer, and even by the cage grooms.
And no matter how great the crush of business, there was always time for
visiting a sick lioness out in the stable, who would never be better,
poor thing, but should have all possible comforts for her last day