CAUTION. A thoroughly cowardly horse _never_ should be ridden, nor driven to anything so light that a runaway is possible. Such animals are too expensive both to human life and to property. A dangerous horse can be just as great a risk as a bad lion or bear. IV.--THE BASER PASSIONS XXII FEAR AS A RULING PASSION If we were asked, "Which one may be called the ruling passion of the wild animal?" we would without hesitation answer,--it is fear. From the cradle to the grave, every strictly wild animal lives, day and night, in a state of fear of bodily harm, and dread of hunger and famine. "Now the 'free, wild life' is a round of strife, And of ceaseless hunger and fear; And the life in the wild of the animal child Is not all skittles and beer." The first thing that the wild baby learns, both by precept and example, is safety first! When the squalling and toddling bear cub first goes abroad, the mother bear is worried and nervous for fear that in a sudden and dangerous emergency the half-helpless little one will not be able to make a successful get-away when the alarm- signal snort is given. During the first, and most dangerous, days in the life of the elk, deer and antelope fawn, the first care of the mother is to hide her offspring in a spot cunningly chosen beside a rock, beside a log, or in thick bushes. In the absence of all those she looks for a depression in the earth wherein the fawn can lie without making a hump in the landscape. The first impulse of the fawn,--even before nursing if the birth occurs in daylight,--is to fold its long legs, short body and reptilian neck into a very small package, hug the earth tightly, close its eyes and lie absolutely motionless until its mother gives the signal to arise and sup. Such infants may lie for long and weary hours without so much as moving an ear; and the anxious mother strolls away to some distance to avoid disclosing her helpless offspring. Now, suppose you discover and touch an elk or a deer fawn while thus hiding. What will it do? Nine times out of ten it will bound up as if propelled by steel springs, and go off like an arrow from a bow, dashing in any direction that is open and leads straight away. The horrified mother will rush into view in dangerously near proximity, and I have seen a wild white-tailed deer doe tear madly up and down in full view and near by, to attract the danger to herself. Thousands of men and boys have seen a mother quail flop and flutter and play wounded, to lead the dangerous boy away from her brood of little quail mites, and work the ruse so daringly and successfully as to save both her babies and herself. I well remember my surprise and admiration when a mother quail first played that trick upon me. I expected to pick her up,--and forgot all about the chicks,--until they were every one safely in hiding, and then Mrs. Quail gave me the laugh and flew away.