existing among the lower tribes of uncivilised man, which is one of the
highest ideals of tribal life. The greatest hero among our savages is
the one that can put the most enemies to death.

Many animals seem to have a social instinct and a moral sentiment toward
man. They try to break the old bonds of distrust between their master
and themselves. This is especially true of the puma, second to the
largest of the big cats of the Americas, which seems to love the society
of man, and seeks not only to be near him, but to protect him from the
attacks of the much-dreaded jaguar. A civil engineer tells the story of
an experience he had while journeying up one of the big South American
rivers by boat. At their nightly encampments one of the passengers on
board was an old miner who insisted on sleeping in a hammock suspended
between two small trees. His weight was sufficient to bring the hammock
almost to the ground at its lowest curve. One morning, his friends
inquired how he had slept, and he complained that "the frogs and small
animals had made so much noise under the hammock that he could not
sleep." One of the Indian servants roared with laughter, as he said,
"Uh, 'tiger' sleep with old man last night. He watch him!"--tiger being
the Indian term for the puma. Careful searching revealed the footprints
of an immense puma, and that he had evidently lain directly under the
hammock. The noise which had kept the old man from sleeping was the
purring of the animal, pleased over the privilege of sleeping so near a
man. These Guiana Indians know the ways of the forests, and have a
special liking for wild animals. This entire absence of fear in the puma
is the same as exhibited by the tame house cat.

Many animals seem fond of human companionship, and are easily tamed. My
sister raised a small red deer in Texas, and he became so perfectly
tame that he would follow her wherever she went, and would even take
food from her hand. In Yellowstone Park the deer are so tame they will
come into the yards to get food, while the brown bears approach the
hotels like tramps, and many of the smaller animals are perfectly
fearless. At the Bronx Zoological Gardens, and the London Zoo, the
animals have lost all fear. They seem to realise that they have no power
to escape and depend entirely upon man for their daily food. But, of
course, their conditions are artificial, hence such conclusions as we
may draw as to their normal attitude toward man do