And yet it would not be fair to speak of these larger flesh-feeding animals as if they had worked nothing but evil to their more peaceful neighbours; for how would Life educate her children if she put no difficulties in their way to be conquered, no sufferings to be endured? We saw that in the beginning the vegetable-feeders were neither so strong, so intelligent, nor so swift of foot as they are now, while the flesh-feeders were not nearly so well armed for destruction as the tigers and lions of to-day. It was in the long long struggle for life that the animals with the largest and strongest horns got the upper hand, that the swiftest horses or antelopes survived and left young ones, that the best climbers baffled their hungry pursuers, while the most intelligent and cautious feeders learned to herd together and watch for danger; while we must remember that it is more often the sickly, worn-out, and diseased animals that fall a prey to the devourers, and their life is ended far less painfully than if they dragged themselves into some hole to die. And so, too, on the other hand, with the flesh-feeders themselves. It was no wanton cruelty that taught them to hunt for prey, to creep stealthily along and leap upon their victims, and to take advantage of the weak and feeble. It was pressing hunger and the necessity of providing their young ones with food; and they, too, have often suffered in the struggle; so that it was only the strongest, healthiest, and best armed, that won the victory and were able to bring up their children. [Illustration: Fig. 75. The Wolf,[175] showing the dog-like form, and long mouth full of teeth.] Moreover, it is quite a mistake to suppose that the greater part of the life of a lion or a wolf is spent in killing and destroying, any more than ours is because we eat beef and mutton. The Lion, at any rate, never attacks an animal unless he is hungry, and even the wolf, generally considered so cruel and bloodthirsty and pitiless, spends the greater part of the year in some quiet place in the mountains with wife and cubs, only hunting for their daily food (though sometimes he is guilty of killing more than he needs), and playing, gambolling, and resting the remainder of the time. It is when winter comes, and the young ones are stronger and food is scarce, that he grows wild with hunger, and starts off, with a number of others, to scour the forests, so that the animals fly in terror as they hear the howling from afar; and even the traveller, driving his sledge across the snow, urges his frightened horses to their utmost speed, since, with a pack of hungry wolves, even if he has firearms, his life is at stake.