Like some other beasts of a similarly mean nature, the Spotted Hyæna prefers not to do his own killing, but likes better to live as a sort of humble messmate on those better provided than himself with the courage requisite to good hunters. When he does cater for himself, instead of subsisting on the leavings of his betters, he always makes his attack in a cowardly way, and trusts rather to stratagem than to any of the higher qualities of a sportsman. Dr. Livingstone says:--“In the evening of our second day at Serotli, a Hyæna appearing suddenly among the grass, succeeded in raising a panic among our cattle. This false mode of attack is the plan which this cowardly animal always adopts. His courage resembles closely that of a Turkey-cock. He will bite if an animal is running away; but if the animal stand still, so does he.” [Illustration: TEETH OF SPOTTED HYÆNA.] Other authors tell a similar tale, showing, too, that under cover of darkness the Hyæna can be moderately plucky; can, at any rate, muster sufficient courage to attack the herds in an encampment. “More than once, during dark and drizzling nights, they made their way into the sheep-kraal, where they committed sad havoc. We had several chases after them, but they managed invariably to elude us.”[65] Again, “The Sheep having been placed in a pit to prevent them from straying, were visited during the night by a party of Hyænas, which slaughtered some and drove the residue to the summit of a high hill, where they were found the following morning.”[66]