Apparently some whisper of rebellion has passed through the menagerie, but just now resting and sleepy. A howl is raised, which echoes every note of the desert. The keepers add to the animals’ excitement by holding out the empty hook; the lions savagely throw themselves upon it, not seeing that they are deceived. With the gestures of a cat, they glide their paws between the bars to seize their prey, and crush their muzzles and their manes against them. As they pant with rage, their breath rises in clouds of smoke, [p135] scattering the sawdust of their litter. They roar and dribble with hunger. At last the meat is within their reach, and they drag the huge pieces towards their jaws, too large to pass through the bars at first, there is a moment’s struggle, and then the great lumps are triumphantly drawn in. When the booty is held, before rending it, the beasts lie down upon it, with little spasmodic rattles—the expression of satisfaction after rage. [p136] By the side of the lions the wolf is dancing, uttering lamentable howls. The tigers prowl to and fro in their agitation like phantoms with lapiz gleams in their eyes. The bear waits for his piece of bread in silence. And as the growls of enjoyment slowly, gradually subside, the menagerie resumes its usual quiet aspect, and the beasts lie drowsily on their sawdust beds, lazily licking their jaws with sighs of repletion. This is the time selected by the tamers to enter the dens. The women go in with bare arms and necks; the men hesitate between a gentleman’s evening-dress and the red uniform of the Horse Guards. As the emotions of the audience must be gradually and skilfully roused, the performance usually opens by the exercises with the white bear. An attendant with a hook slips back the protecting partition. The tamer receives the creature, whip in hand. “Come in, Pierrot.” (Every white bear has been called Pierrot ever since the North Pole was invented.) “Come, you lazy fellow, jump! Show yourself off! That’s right! Once more! A bar for Pierrot! Well! I am waiting for you! Higher, Pierrot, higher!” (_The strange creature sways its serpent-like neck and gives a sudden spring._) “Very well done! Now, Pierrot, we are going to see if you are a coward. Ready! Fire!” (_The tamer fires a pistol. The bear moves its head uneasily._) “That will do, my friend; you can go. Ladies and gentlemen, there is only one thing which Pierrot cannot endure, that is the smell of powder.” [p137] Now it is the turn of Sarah the hyena, which comes in with its hobbling step and the suspicious glances of the birds of darkness. It smells the master’s boots, and takes a piece of sugar in its teeth. It soon retires into a corner, whilst Mignonne the panther appears. Mignonne performs with all the grace of a ballet-dancer. She passes from right to left, over the back of the tamer; allows him to raise her from the ground by the ears, and kisses her master’s throat near the nape of the neck.