Evening Star Newspaper, December 14, 1930, Page 106

Adventures With “Big Cats” of the Ci Thrilling Moments in the Lives of Men Who Handle the Jungle Beasts —A ‘tller Loose in the Strects — T he Lion That Emptied a Restaurant — A King of Beasts Fights for His _ Trairer. EDITOR'S NOTE—Bob Sher- wood, the auihor, is the famous former clown, who for 26 years en- tertained countless amdiences while with the P. T. Barmum circus. He was the last and ome of the best known of the Barnum funmakers. A Ubifelong hobby of Beb Sher- wood's has beem his love for and constant study of circus amimals, particularly the big cats—lions, tigers and panthers. BY BOB SHERWOOD. XPERIENCE has convinced me that, among other things, the lion is a long way from being the King of Beasts. Perhaps he may have lived up to his traditional titde of nobility in the days of the Bible, but I have always thought of him as a sort of bluffer—a poseur, if you will. A bit proud, no doubt, of his name, “lord of the jungle.” But as a fighter he is somewhat of a flop, attack- ing only when hungry or cornered, or, at times, when he thinks he can attack without too much risk. Put thiee lions into a den with & full-grown Incdian tiger and the striped cat will come out bloody, but alive. The lions will be dead. The study of the disposition and habits of a full-grown lion is interesting. Each has a personality peculiar to himself and, like the human, is liable to go off on a rampage with- out any warnmg whatsoever, We had, one scason, a remarkably fine spécimen of the African species. He was well formed, well grown, with & handsome head and shoulders covered with a fine darkish mane. He was much admired and was often referred to by naturalists as a typical king of beasts, by reason of his haughtiness and dignified bearing. But right there you could let your praise of him end. His disposition Was as uneven as a cross-cut saw and he was 8 source of constant worry to his trainer. He had killed one man and wounded sev- eral others, so powerful were his paws and so quick be became in striking betweem the bars of his cage. He recuired careful watching at all times. Kindness had no effect on him whatever. Special dainties he took with a growl, watching all the time for an oppor- tunity to grab and tear the giver. To attempt any sort of punishment or discipline with this beast would have been fatal. The only safe method of handling Caesar, as he was called, was to keep him periectly quiet, and make him as comfortable and happy as possible with good food, a clean cage and another lion for company. Tl{lueonduonmst.fintupcn:drrom the surly Caesar by an iron partition, as we were just a little anxious as to how he would be received. On opening day we de- cided to transfer both lions to a larger cage where they would have more space and com- fort, and also have a better opportunity ef being seen. The day was n-t-weorthy for its fine weather Crowds .of people had flocked to the city and everything promised a buge suceess for our show. We ran one of our big cages on wheels up to the one containing Caesar and his mate, placed them door to door, dropped a lassp over the quiet lion’s neck and by gentle twitches Imduced him to enter the big eage. Then we tried the same tactics with Caesar, who soon domonstrated that he was made of different stgfl., Timpe after time he slipped the noose from his tawny body and tore madly up and down the cage as though possessed of the strength of 60 demons. We waited until he sfopped to roar (a lion, by the way, never roars while in metion) and once more slipped the noose over his majesty’s meck. With a terrific wrench and twist he g0k himself free and sprang into the adjoining s0 suddenly and fiercely that he caused wagon to move a foot 6r twd. xfOreufi" ! L T rear, in the canvas rmingham. his way he came to a sewer opening. Down he went, roaring ferociously. In less than 20 minutes every person in Birmingham knew what had happened and the greatest consternation prevailed. Fear was intensified by the fact that as the lion made his way the sewers he stopped at every manhole he came to and sent up a succession and made off for the city We were at our wits’ end. There was the danger of the Mon escaping from the sewer So we gathered as many of our men as could be spared from the shcw, put a lion into a large shifting-cage and, covering the whole thing with canvas in order that the lion should triumph. Everything went off as scheduled. At the sound of the door closing, a cry went up from the crowd: “They’ve got him! They've got him. They've people filed into the show, until we were com- pelled to refuse admission .to. any more. MBANWHILR we were .in a perfect bath of cold perspiration, for while the fears of the people were allayed for the time being, the escaped lion was still in the sewer. He might get out at any moment, or he might roar again and so advertise the fact that he was still at liberty. As soon as possible trustworthy men with iron bars were placed at the mouth of the sewer and as, fortunately, the lion had stopped roaring, things were quiet for the time. Then three men accompanied by the giant boarhound, Marco, lowered themselves into the manhole, crawling on hands and knees, not knowing at what moment they might happen on the lion. Suddenly Marco gave a sbarp bark, followed Q) 3 by ‘a’curious ‘throaty growl, which”told us that THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, P. C, DECEMBER 14, 1930. NH! 4 ‘filmr" M,n 1 candles which spat and uncanny manner, the ad- But at this point a terrific battle began be- tween the boar-hound and the Hon. It is needless to say that the danger to all in ihat narrow, dark sewer was extremely great. It was not until Marco had been severely slashed by the lion and his head badly bitten that he left the savage antagonist and came back to us for protection, deeming discretion, evidently, the better part of valor. if lion, when he was fortunately able im a stinging blow on the nose with boot-heel boxing gloves. Then, have his head split open one of the lion’s huge paws, he men to place over his head a le in which we had carried car- sewer. While trying to fix this tipped and rolled over and went crashing down the sewer, making a noise which echoed and re-echoed through the whole length of the tunmel in the most appalling manner. The lon, who had resisted success- fully till now, at once turned tail and raced sfl E - THHL %ggfi“ TH!R.! was an eight-foot fall in the rear of the sewer and this had evidently caused him to refuse to retreat until frightened by the kettle. We did not know of this and, con- sequently, tumbled into it ourselves. We were not hurt, and as the lion was now roaring once more just ahead we followed the sound and discovered the cause of Caesar's perturbation. He had caught his hind legs in one of the slip-nooses which had been {ropped down the manhole and was hanging head downward, helpless and furious at his undignified plight. Other strong ropes were let down immediately, for Caesar would scon have died in that posi- tion, and we were fortunate enough to secure his' head and fore paws. The cage was then placed at the manhole, and when we had run the ropes through the cage and out over the sidewalk, the men began to haul. In this un- kindly fashion the king of beasts was dragged out ‘of his prison and into his cage once more. Never again was he given an opportimity to escape There wee a number of great trainers of lions in the old circus days, among whom were Hagenback, Driesbach, Van Amburg and Herr Schwartz. The best known of this quartet was Hagenback, but his fame grew chiefly from the fact that he was the largest dealer in wild animals in the world. The greatest trainer, in my opinion—and I knew them all personally— was Herr Schwartz. Schwartz was the only trainer I ever knew who had the nerve to undertake the education and ‘subjugation of a full-grown black panther— and a 'more cunning and tréachéfous animal e rcus does not exist among the cat species. A panther is about nine times quicker than lightning and indicates where he will strike just about as often. Herr Schwartz's troupe of trained animals one season consisted of the old lion Wallace, whom Schwartz had raised from a cub; Ramsay, a young Bengal tiger, and Chita, a beautiful black panther. Old Wallace’'s temper had been ruined through close confinement and the nerve-wracking noise of parade wheels rolling over cobblestones. He was sullen and reluctant while deing his tricks, apt at any moment to fly into a rage and attack his trainer. And yet Herr Schwartz loved the old lion and made con- tinual excuses for him. “Vallace iss shust a leedle noivous today,” he would explain when the sullen old brute had ripped away about a foot of He:r Schwartz's coat sleeve. “He's all right ven it comes to doin’ his tricks. Vallace, ven he has to be, is always cop to d’ scratch.” ‘This last encomium might have been taken two ways, but Herr Schwartz was sincere. Every perfcrmer in the show used to repeat the phrase cynically. Old Schwartz was continually putting new sleeves in his uniform coat because Wallace was so often “up to the scratch.” Then there was Ramsay, the tiger, who could be as disarming as a kitten and as destructive as a typhoon. There was Cuffy, the furry little bear, who played the accordion and rode on a bicycle, Lastly, there was Chita, the black panther, untamable, treachercus, deadly. Always there was something pathetic about Schwartz’s act to me. The somber old lion Wallace, sacrificing his dignity to jump through hoops and balance on a ball for applause he did not understanrd. Ramsay, who should have been a king in some far-off Jjungle, pretending to wrestle with a little fat man dressed in a faded uniform of the Prussian Hussars. Chita, the golden-eyed black, with fangs ba:ed, lash- ing her tail, snarling, always afraid of the lights and the blare of the band. Only Cuffy, the little clown bear, was not mutinous against his fate. He was a born actor, was Cuffy, and he loved his work. He was never worked when the cats were in the cage, but immediately after. Although he was used to the scent of them, there was always Just an instant of hesitation before he ente:ed the barred inclosure. He always seemed to have a dim fear that some time there ‘would be a lion or a tiger in there, and that would not have pleased him at all, season, during the latter part of August, old Wallace became ill—an obscure ailment, Somehow I thirk the old lion was tired of life and wanted to die. Our veterinary said that he would not live, but Herr Schwartz declared that he could and would. He put on his act with Ramsay, Chita and Cuffy and as soon s it was over he locked the two cats in their cages, snapped Cuffy’s collar on to a chain and hurried back to Wallace’s cage. He entered without fear and, in spite of the lion’s hoarse growls, talked to him in soothing tones. Wallace had a fever. For weeks Herr Schwartz sat beside him, moistening the rough, red tongue with water, fanning away the flies that settled on the lion’s listless eyes and talk-, ing te him as if he were a cub again. Wallace did live and, although he was twice as cross'as he was before, there seemed to be a difference in his temper. © He went through -his ~tricks snarling eontinuously. But Herr Schwartz only jeered at him in German and in English. “Vallace, du kumkopf, opp on dot ball—nefer mind snarling at me. Oh, I know you got mlooths—a-‘ you ain’dt no milk-fed lion, ain’t dot' Ramsay,”the “tiger) on' his pPedestiil Wt* chie"* -