Michael, Brother of Jerry | Page 4

manhood, that I unconsciously protected myself from the hurt of the
trained-animal turn by getting up and leaving the theatre whenever such
turns came on the stage. I say "unconsciously." By this I mean it never
entered my mind that this was a programme by which the possible
death-blow might be given to trained-animal turns. I was merely
protecting myself from the pain of witnessing what it would hurt me to
witness.
But of recent years my understanding of human nature has become
such that I realize that no normal healthy human would tolerate such
performances did he or she know the terrible cruelty that lies behind
them and makes them possible. So I am emboldened to suggest, here
and now, three things:
First, let all humans inform themselves of the inevitable and eternal
cruelty by the means of which only can animals be compelled to
perform before revenue-paying audiences. Second, I suggest that all

men and women, and boys and girls, who have so acquainted
themselves with the essentials of the fine art of animal-training, should
become members of, and ally themselves with, the local and national
organizations of humane societies and societies for the prevention of
cruelty to animals.
And the third suggestion I cannot state until I have made a preamble.
Like hundreds of thousands of others, I have worked in other fields,
striving to organize the mass of mankind into movements for the
purpose of ameliorating its own wretchedness and misery. Difficult as
this is to accomplish, it is still more difficult to persuade the human into
any organised effort to alleviate the ill conditions of the lesser animals.
Practically all of us will weep red tears and sweat bloody sweats as we
come to knowledge of the unavoidable cruelty and brutality on which
the trained-animal world rests and has its being. But not one-tenth of
one per cent. of us will join any organization for the prevention of
cruelty to animals, and by our words and acts and contributions work to
prevent the perpetration of cruelties on animals. This is a weakness of
our own human nature. We must recognize it as we recognize heat and
cold, the opaqueness of the non-transparent, and the everlasting
down-pull of gravity.
And still for us, for the ninety-nine and nine-tenths per cent. of us,
under the easy circumstance of our own weakness, remains another
way most easily to express ourselves for the purpose of eliminating
from the world the cruelty that is practised by some few of us, for the
entertainment of the rest of us, on the trained animals, who, after all,
are only lesser animals than we on the round world's surface. It is so
easy. We will not have to think of dues or corresponding secretaries.
We will not have to think of anything, save when, in any theatre or
place of entertainment, a trained-animal turn is presented before us.
Then, without premeditation, we may express our disapproval of such a
turn by getting up from our seats and leaving the theatre for a
promenade and a breath of fresh air outside, coming back, when the
turn is over, to enjoy the rest of the programme. All we have to do is
just that to eliminate the trained-animal turn from all public places of

entertainment. Show the management that such turns are unpopular,
and in a day, in an instant, the management will cease catering such
turns to its audiences.
JACK LONDON GLEN ELLEN, SONOMA COUNTY,
CALIFORNIA, December 8, 1915
CHAPTER I

But Michael never sailed out of Tulagi, nigger-chaser on the Eugenie.
Once in five weeks the steamer Makambo made Tulagi its port of call
on the way from New Guinea and the Shortlands to Australia. And on
the night of her belated arrival Captain Kellar forgot Michael on the
beach. In itself, this was nothing, for, at midnight, Captain Kellar was
back on the beach, himself climbing the high hill to the Commissioner's
bungalow while the boat's crew vainly rummaged the landscape and
canoe houses.
In fact, an hour earlier, as the Makambo's anchor was heaving out and
while Captain Kellar was descending the port gangplank, Michael was
coming on board through a starboard port-hole. This was because
Michael was inexperienced in the world, because he was expecting to
meet Jerry on board this boat since the last he had seen of him was on a
boat, and because he had made a friend.
Dag Daughtry was a steward on the Makambo, who should have
known better and who would have known better and done better had he
not been fascinated by his own particular and peculiar reputation. By
luck of birth possessed of a genial but soft disposition and a splendid
constitution, his reputation was that for twenty years he had never
missed