Watched by Wild Animals — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
Watched by Wild Animals
John Stuart Mill · en
The goat is a trifle smaller than the mountain sheep. The weight of a
full-grown male is about two hundred and fifty pounds. He has a heavy
body, high shoulders, and retiring hind quarters; he somewhat
resembles a small buffalo. His odd head is attached to a short neck
and is carried below the line of the shoulders. He has a long face and
an almost grotesque beard often many inches long. The horns are nearly
black, smooth, and slender. They grow from the top of the head, curve
slightly outward and backward for eight or ten inches, and end in a
sharp point. The horns of both sexes are similarly developed and are
used by both with equal skill. The goat’s hair, tinged with yellow but
almost white, is of shaggy length.
In running he is not speedy. His actions are those of an overfat,
aged, and rheumatic dog. He appears on the verge of a collapse. Every
jump is a great effort and lands far short of the spot aimed at.
Nearly all graceful movements were omitted in his training. Nearly all
the actions of this woodeny fellow suggest that a few of his joints
are too loose and that most of the others are too tight. He gets up
and lies down as though not accustomed to working his own levers and
hinges.
Many times I have seen a goat trying in an absurd, awkward manner,
after lying down, to remove bumps or stones from beneath him. Holding
out one or more legs at a stiff angle, he would claw away with one of
the others at the undesired bump. Sometimes he would dig off a chunk
of sod; other times a stone or two would be dislodged and pushed out.
It seems to be a part of his ways and his habits not to rise to do
this, or even to seek a better place. However, an acquaintance with
his home territory gives one a friendly feeling for him. After seeing
him composedly climbing a pinnacle, apparently accessible only to
birds, one begins to appreciate a remarkable coördination of head and
foot work.
Although the goat appears clumsy he is the animal least likely to
slip, to stumble, to miss his footing or to fall. While the mountain
sheep perhaps excels him in zigzag drop and skip-stop down precipitous
places, nothing that I have seen equals the wild goat when it comes to
going up slopes smooth and almost vertical. His rock and ice work are
one hundred per cent efficient.
When it comes to what you may call durability the goat is in the front
ranks. He can climb precipices and pinnacles all day long and in every
kind of weather. When not otherwise engaged he plays both on roomy
levels and unbanistered precipice fronts. He is ever fit, always
prepared. From the view-point of many hunters the grizzly bear, the
mountain sheep, and the mountain goat are almost in a class by
themselves. They exact a high standard of endurance and skill from the
hunter who goes after them.