er with her cubs will attack
anything. When the cubs are little she teaches them to hunt for
themselves, taking them out with her on expeditions and showing them how
to catch smaller animals, such as young calves or pigs, until they are
strong enough to hunt larger ones, when they leave her and begin
housekeeping on their own account. A great many tigers live in India,
and many a wretched native has ended his life by being caught by one of
them. You would think, to look at the royal tiger, with his reddish
markings and black stripes, that he could be easily seen at a great
distance, but this is not so. In the jungle where he lives the stems of
the bamboos are light, and the markings of the tiger are so like his
surroundings that you might get quite close to him and never know it. He
walks through the dense thick jungle with the loose, springy step of a
cat, and woe be to any luckless animal he sees! Sometimes he will find
an enclosure with some young bullocks in it; then he will take one, and
leave the others, for, unless he is a very young tiger, he does not kill
for the love of it, but for food. He carries off his prey, and comes
back a night or two after for a second one; and if the owner of the
bullocks does not remove them he will soon have none left.

Quite near to the lion house, on the other side, is the reptile house,
where live snakes, crocodiles, and lizards, and all sorts of curious
animals. The most interesting are the enormous snakes, called
boa-constrictors, with bodies nearly as thick as a child's, and many
yards in length. They are not in cages, but in glass houses, like glass
boxes. The glass is very thick and strong, and the snake does not dash
himself against it to get out. He would not take the trouble to do that,
for he moves slowly, and when you see him at the Zoo you would think him
very lazy. There he lies, with his oily body, covered with little
scales, hanging round the branch of a dead tree which has been put into
his house, or perhaps lying coiled up on the gravel floor in rings and
rings, so beautifully neat that you wonder how he can take the trouble
to fold himself up so nicely before he goes to sleep. He certainly would
not get crumpled if he lay anyhow, as your clothes would get crumpled if
you did not fold them up. Watch him very closely. You can see he
breathes, and perhaps he glances up and winks with one eye, or darts out
a wicked little tongue. How can a creature like that, so big a