<h2 class="c4"><SPAN name="CHAPTER14" id="CHAPTER14">CHAPTER XV</SPAN></h2>
<p class="MsoNormal c1">THE MAKING OF A WILD BEAST</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The transformation begun in Finn by the night he had spent
in a rocking train, caged between a tiger and two bears, was enormously
accentuated and confirmed by his encounter with the Professor. If zoologists
had deliberately set themselves the task of converting an Irish Wolfhound into
a wild beast, they could hardly have taken any more effective measures than
those which had been adopted by pure chance with Finn, from the time at which
he reached Sam's hands; and it is probable that no zoologist with any humanity
in him would have made progress so extraordinarily rapid. The mere fact of
being caged behind iron bars for the first time in his life, and that between a
roaring, snarling tiger and two grunting little bears, strongly odoriferous of
the wild, affected Finn in somewhat the same manner that a highly excitable and
nervous man of quite untrained intellect might be affected by being flung into
a cell, surrounded by raving maniacs. If such a man, after a dozen hours in his
cell, were approached by some one whom he had every reason to regard as a
friend and a rescuer, and beaten cruelly with a weapon possessed of strange and
altogether horrible qualities--supernatural qualities, so far as he could
tell--it is fair to suppose that he would be as much transformed by the ordeal
as Finn was by his ordeal.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Shortly after the episode of the red-hot iron, Finn's cage
was again visited by Sam and the Professor, the former being laden with a big,
blood-stained basket. From this basket the Professor took a large chunk of raw
flesh, and pushed it through the bars into Finn's cage. A bone was also thrust
through the bars, and a fixed iron pan near the gate was filled from outside
with water. The Professor eyed Finn curiously while he performed these
operations, and was surprised that the Giant Wolf, as they called him, did not
spring forward upon the food.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"I've put the fear of God into him all right, Sam," said
the Professor. "He's not going to touch his grub while we're here. Like all
wolves, he's mighty frightened of traps; and I guess he reckons there's a trap
attaching to this meat. Watch how Killer tackles his."</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Killer was already ravening furiously at the bars of his
cage, his yellow eyes ablaze as he watched the meat his soul desired being
thrust into Finn's cage. The tiger's roars kept Finn's hackles up, and his
fangs bared in a fierce snarl; so that the Professor was struck afresh with the
savageness of the latest addition to the menagerie under his care. Killer's
meat barely reached the floor of his cage before he had snatched and carried it
to the rear, where he tore it savagely, while maintaining an incessant growling
snarl. But he dropped the meat as though it burned, and crouched fearfully in
the opposite corner of his den, when--by way of display for Sam's benefit--the
Professor picked up his iron bar and threatened the tiger with it. Now Finn, on
the other hand, when he saw the cruel bar raised, sprang forward with a
growling roar of defiance, fore-feet outstretched, bristling back curved for
the leap, and white fangs flashing.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"Too sulky to eat it, but mighty concerned when he thought
I was goin' to take his meat from him," commented the Professor, in explanation
to Sam. As a matter of fact, Finn had not thought of the meat. His present
feeling was that he had fallen among a lot of mad wild beasts, some of whom, by
curious chance, had the appearance of men folk. If one among them should lift
an iron bar, and more especially if the maddest and most hated among them, the
Professor, should lift the bar, why then, as Finn saw it, his one chance for
life was to fight; to strike hard and swiftly.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"We'll have to keep these two always caged together," said
the Professor, with a careless glance at Finn and the tiger. "Old Killer works
him up in great style. I guess he'll fetch the public all the time, while he
can hear old Killer at his antics. He certainly is the finest-lookin' beast I
ever saw in the wolf line, and he's as strong and heavy as a horse. I guess
your number would 'ave been up for sure, Sam, if you'd been in my shoes a while
back, when he got me down. What I don't like about the beggar is you can't
reckon on him; he don't seem to have the same ways as most of 'em. He don't fly
at ye right away; he doesn't even jump for his grub, you see. He seems to lie
back an' consider. It's a bad thing that, for he's hefty enough, anyway,
without stopping to think out his wickedness like a man. He's goin' to be a
rough, hard case to tame, Sam, that Giant Wolf of yours; but he's come to a
hard-case tamer, too, and don't you forget it. He's got to bend or break, and
you can gamble clear down to the butt of your sack on that, my son. Come on
now, and I'll show you how the others are fed. Just fill old Killer's
water-dish first."</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It was now thirty hours since Finn had tasted food, and
three days since he had eaten a proper meal. If his experiences of the past
four-and-twenty hours had been in every other respect distressing, they had at
least robbed him of grief about the Master. His outraged physical senses, and
the tremendous strain placed upon his nervous system, effectually shut grief
out from his mind. Finn was accustomed to have meals served to him in spotless
enamelled dishes, and it had always been food of which a man might have
partaken: well-cooked meats, bread, vegetables, and gravy, nicely cut and
mixed. Now for a long time the condition of passionate protest and irritability
produced in him by all that he had gone through, and by Killer's continuous
growling, prevented his touching the meat which lay near the bars of his cage.
But hunger triumphed after a while, and with a quick, rather furtive movement,
but with lips drawn back and every sign exposed of readiness to defend his
action, Finn lifted the big chunk of meat from its place by the bars, and
carried it into a corner at the back of the cage, where he tore it into
fragments, and ate it, of necessity, very much as a wolf eats, the blood of the
raw meat trickling meanwhile about his jaws. To drink, Finn had to place his
head close to those bars which most nearly adjoined the front of the tiger's
cage. But drink was necessary to him now, and so, with his nose all furrowed,
his fangs bared, and a formidable low snarl issuing from his throat, he slowly
approached the water-pan, and lapped his fill, pausing to snarl aloud at the
tiger between each three or four laps of his tongue. But Killer had fed full,
and crunched his bone to splinters and eaten that; so now he was preparing
himself to sleep.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">If Finn could have followed Killer's example and slept it
would have helped him immensely, for his overwrought system needed rest more
badly than anything else just then. But this was impossible as yet for the
sensitive Wolfhound. The two bears in the next cage were playing together
fubsily, and the tiger's breathing while he slept was a maddening kind of cross
between a purr and a snore; maddening, that is, to one who found the creature's
mere proximity incredibly distasteful. This hatred of the Killer's
neighbourhood was no whim, no personal fastidiousness on Finn's part. It went
much deeper than that. For example, so far, the hair on Finn's back would not
assume its natural position; it still stood half erect, and harsh and stiff as
fine wire; by which the tension of his nerves may be imagined. No, Finn could
not sleep.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The hours of the day dragged slowly by, and Finn began to
suffer in new ways. He had never been confined for any length of time before,
and strict cleanliness was an instinct with him.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">At length, as the hot afternoon drew to its close, a
number of men came to the cages, and horses were hitched on to the heavy wagon
which supported them, at a level of less than three feet from the ground.
Killer woke with a start and, with his tail, angrily flogged the partition
which divided him from Finn, while delivering himself of a snarling yawn. Finn
leapt to his feet, answering the tiger's snarl viciously, himself looking to
the full as savage as any of the wild kindred. The wagon moved with a jerk,
Killer rolled against his side of the partition and growled ferociously; Finn
sprang at the partition as though he thought his great weight would carry him
through it, and his jaws snapped at the air as he sprang. The men roared with
laughter at him, and this accentuated his feeling that they were all mad wild
beasts together. Presently, Finn's cage, with others, was ranged along the side
of a canvas-covered passage way by which the public were to approach the main
tent, where that night's performance was to be given. This double row of cages
was arranged here with a view to impressing the public; a kind of foretaste of
the glories they were to behold within. The Southern Cross circus had patent
turnstiles fixed at both ends of the main tent, those at one end admitting only
of ingress, those at the other end admitting only of egress.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It was shortly after this that Finn became conscious of a
curious grinding small sound at the back of his cage. Presently a sharp, bright
point of steel entered the cage from behind, just above the level of Finn's
head, as he sat on his haunches. The steel wormed its way into the cage to a
length of fully six inches, and then it reached the side of Killer's cage,
pointing diagonally, and bored slowly through that. The auger was well greased,
and made only a very slight sound, so slight indeed that Killer was not aware
of it. He was not so highly strung as Finn at this time.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This auger-hole was an idea of Sam's, for which he hoped
to derive credit from the boss. He had noted carefully the remark of the
Professor about keeping the Giant Wolf close to the tiger, in order to lend
additional fierceness to his demeanour. And so, with the thoughtlessly cruel
cunning of a schoolboy, he had devised a means of improving upon this. He took
a thin iron rod, and covered the end of it with soft, porous sacking, which he
moistened with the blood of raw meat. Then, by thrusting this between the bars
of Finn's cage, and jabbing violently at the Wolfhound with it for several
minutes, he endeavoured to impregnate the sacking on the rod with a smell of
Finn. Then he invited John L. Rutherford to take up a stand in front of the
cages, as though he were a member of the general public, and to whistle, by way
of signalling that he was ready. Directly Sam heard the whistle, he being now
behind the cages, he thrust his sacking-covered rod through the auger-hole he
had made from Finn's cage into the tiger's, and there rattled it to and fro to
attract the Killer's attention. Killer not only heard and saw the intruding
object, but smelt it, and sprang at it violently, with a rasping, savage snarl
which challenged the Giant Wolf to come forward or be for ever accursed for a
coward. The rod was withdrawn on the instant, and Finn's whole great bulk
crashed against the partition, as he answered Killer with a roar of defiance.
The great Wolfhound stood erect on his hind-feet, snapping at the air with
foaming jaws, and tearing impotently at the iron-sheathed partition with his
powerful claws. The boss applauded vigorously, and gave Sam a shilling for
beer.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"You keep that up while the people are coming in, Sam, an'
by gosh we'll have 'em in fits. The Giant's a sure star performer, every time.
He's worth two or three of the Killer, when he prances round on his tail that
way. It was quite a bright notion o' yours, Sam, that auger-hole."</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It must have been nearly two hours later, when the public
was being admitted in a regular stream to the big tent, and Sam had succeeded
in working the tiger and the Wolfhound into a perfect frenzy of impotent rage,
of snarling, foaming, roaring fury, that a faint odour crossed Finn's nostrils,
and a faint sound fell upon his ears, through all the din and tumult of the
conflict with his unseen enemy. In that moment, and as though he had been shot,
Finn dropped from his erect position, and bounded to the front bars of his
cage, with a sudden, appealing whine, very unlike the formidable cries with
which he had been rending the pent air of his prison for the last quarter of an
hour. He had heard a few words spoken in a woman's voice, and those words
were:--</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">"I cannot bear to look at them; I never do. Let us hurry
straight in."</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In a passion of anxiety, and grief, and love, and remorse
for not having been on the look out, Finn poured out his very soul in a
succession of long-drawn whines, plaintive and insistent as a 'cello's
wailings, while his powerful fore-paws tugged and scratched ineffectually at
the solid iron bars of his cage. The woman whose voice he heard was the
Mistress of the Kennels, and the man to whom she spoke, who walked beside her,
looking obstinately at her and not at the cages, was the Master. Something
seemed to crack in poor Finn's breast, as the two humans whom he loved
disappeared from his view within the great tent. He did not know that they
would not pass that way again, because the audience left the place by the
opposite end of the tent. But he gave no thought to the future. Here, in the
midst of his uttermost misery and humiliation, the Master, the light of his
life, had passed within a few feet of him, and passed without a glance, without
a word. For long, Finn gazed miserably out between the bars, sniffing
hopelessly at the air through which his friends had passed. Then, slowly, he
retired to the furthermost corner of his cage, and curled down there, with his
muzzle between his paws, and big drops of bitter sadness trickling out from
beneath his overhanging brows. And not all the ferocity of Killer, nor all the
ingenuity of Sam with his sacking-covered rod, availed to draw Finn from his
corner again that night. It seemed as though his heart had cracked, and every
other emotion than grief trickled out from it in the form of tears. It was the
saddest moment of Finn's life till then; and it was a bitter kind of sadness,
too. Not one little look; not one glance for Finn in the midst of his
torment!</p>
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