Animal Heroes | Page 6

little respite from the
hunger-pang. In the morning she did not sleep, but prowled for food. Some Sparrows
chirruped in the yard. They were often there, but now they were viewed with new eyes.
The steady pressure of hunger had roused the wild hunter in the Kitten; those Sparrows
were game--were food. She crouched instinctively and stalked from cover to cover, but
the chirpers were alert and flew in time. Not once, but many times, she tried without
result except to confirm the Sparrows in the list of things to be eaten if obtainable.
On the fifth day of ill luck the Slum Kitty ventured forth into the street, desperately bent
on finding food. When far from the haven hole some small boys opened fire at her with
pieces of brick. She ran in fear. A Dog joined in the chase, and Kitty's position grew
perilous; but an old-fashioned iron fence round a house-front was there, and she slipped
in between the rails as the Dog overtook her. A woman in a window above shouted at the
Dog. Then the boys dropped a piece of cat-meat down to the unfortunate; and Kitty had
the most delicious meal of her life. The stoop afforded a refuge. Under this she sat
patiently till nightfall came with quiet, then sneaked back like a shadow to her old
iron-yard.
Thus the days went by for two months. She grew in size and strength and in an intimate
knowledge of the immediate neighborhood. She made the acquaintance of Downey Street,
where long rows of ash-cans were to be seen every morning. She formed her own ideas
of their proprietors. The big house was to her, not a Roman Catholic mission, but a place
whose garbage-tins abounded in choicest fish scrapings. She soon made the acquaintance
of the meat-man, and joined in the shy fringe of Cats that formed the outer circle. She
also met the Wharf Dog as well as two or three other horrors of the same class. She knew
what to expect of them and how to avoid them; and she was happy in being the inventor
of a new industry. Many thousand Cats have doubtless hung, in hope, about the tempting
milk-cans that the early milk-man leaves on steps and window-ledges, and it was by the
merest accident that Kitty found one with a broken lid, and so was taught to raise it and

have a satisfying drink. Bottles, of course, were beyond her, but many a can has a misfit
lid, and Kitty was very painstaking in her efforts to discover the loose-jointed ones.
Finally she extended her range by exploration till she achieved the heart of the next block,
and farther, till once more among the barrels and boxes of the yard behind the bird-man's
cellar.
The old iron-yard never had been home, she had always felt like a stranger there; but here
she had a sense of ownership, and at once resented the presence of another small Cat. She
approached this newcomer with threatening air. The two had got as far as snarling and
spitting when a bucket of water from an upper window drenched them both and
effectually cooled their wrath. They fled, the newcomer over the wall, Slum Kitty under
the very box where she had been born. This whole back region appealed to her strongly,
and here again she took up her abode. The yard had no more garbage food than the other
and no water at all, but it was frequented by stray Rats and a few Mice of the finest
quality; these were occasionally secured, and afforded not only a palatable meal, but were
the cause of her winning a friend.
IV
Kitty was now fully grown. She was a striking-looking Cat of the tiger type. Her marks
were black on a very pale gray, and the four beauty-spots of white on nose, ears, and
tail-tip lent a certain distinction. She was very expert at getting a living, and yet she had
some days of starvation and failed in her ambition of catching a Sparrow. She was quite
alone, but a new force was coming into her life.
She was lying in the sun one August day, when a large Black Cat came walking along the
top of a wall in her direction. She recognized him at once by his torn ear. She slunk into
her box and hid. He picked his way gingerly, bounded lightly to a shed that was at the
end of the yard, and was crossing the roof when a Yellow Cat rose up. The Black Torn
glared and growled, so did the Yellow Tom. Their tails lashed from side to side. Strong
throats growled and yowled. They approached each other with ears laid back, with
muscles a-tense.
"Yow-yow-ow!" said the