Cats and Us

I just finished reading “The Tiger: A True Story of Vengeance and Survival,” written by John Vaillant (A Canadian, by the way). Set in the Bikin River valley in Khabarovski Krai, a province in far eastern Russia (near the Sea of Japan). It is, as the title says, an account of events involving a man-eating tiger in this area during the 1990’s. But, it is far more than just a narrative of events. In the book Vaillant explores the complex relationships between man and tiger (and big cats in general).

If we go back approximately two million years, we find our ancestors (homo habilis) living in the African savannah. Other than snakes, our greatest enemies were cats—very large cats—the progenitors of today’s lions, tigers, and leopards (the three main groups of large cats). We avoided becoming victims of the cats by restricting our hunting to daylight hours (cats generally prefer hunting at night), and staying close to a fire at night. At the same time, homo habilis and large cats had a symbiotic relationship. Man—and let’s use this in a very general sense—is not very well equipped for hunting, unlike the cats who are have large fangs and claws, powerful legs, and an intuitive ability to stalk prey. While homo habilis had large jaws and some nasty canine teeth (much like today’s baboons), he was pretty much otherwise defenseless, except for two advantages: the ability to sweat through our skin and the ability to make tools.

Sweat? Yes. Other land mammals rid their bodies of excess heat by panting—rapidly breathing over a wet out-stretched tongue to promote quick evaporation. A result of this is that most mammals cannot run very far in a single burst—they have to stop periodically to pant. People have no such problem. By perspiring through their skin, they can continue to run even as their bodies cast off any excess heat generated. Today in the Kalahari Desert this ability is put to use: hunters simple run their prey into the ground. Eventually the pursued animal will suffer heat stroke because of the constant pressure of pursuers who never give it a chance to stop to cool off by panting.

The other advantage is tools. Going back two million years the only tools we find are simple stones deliberately chipped to create a sharp edge on one side. Not much use for hunting—but very useful for cutting meat and cracking open bones.  That was our only tool for about a million years before the invention of the stone hand axe—and that gave the advantage that it could be easily carried and used for more delicate tasks than cutting meat from sinew. The stone hand axe was it for about another million years. So, for most of our history we used simple stone tools that had limited uses.

Out-running animals to the point of heat exhaustion is pretty useful, but not always practical, especially if you have a large group to feed—or you had moved to an area where it was generally cooler. Our ancestors had to find another way to supplement their high-protein diet and that they did by scavenging. The African desert lions and cave lions frequently left partially-devoured prey. Today’s hyenas utilize that to move in on an abandoned carcass, probably very much like our ancestors did. A quick dash to the carcass and a few swift chops with a hand axe and a capable hunter could recover a fair-sized chunk of meat. The only way we could pull that off is by not angering the cats. There is evidence that humans left part of their kill for the cats, and the cats left part of their kill for the humans. Also, both humans and cats are territorial creatures. As our territories undoubtedly overlapped, some sort of modus vivendi had to be worked out between the two species.

The situation today is that in remote areas like eastern Russia people and big cats (in this case tigers) generally co-exist. As long as people leave the tigers alone and respect their “rights,” tigers will leave people alone and give them their due respect. The problems arise when tigers are hunted (for pelts and Chinese medicines) or crowded out of their territories by logging and similar activities. Vaillant describes the almost mystical relationship between the cats and humans in striking detail and example.

Which brings me to the purring ball of fur on my lap. Today’s domestic cats are descended from small African wild cats. The oldest known association between these cats and humans is a 10,000 year old grave containing skeletons of each. The crude symbiotic relationship between humans and large cats likely became more clearly defined in our relations with the small cats. They would keep the rodent and snake population around human encampments in check and we would provide them with a safe place (near a fire) for the night. I’ve seen it suggested that we never really domesticated cats, as we did dogs, but, rather, our two species simply got used to each other being around. We are all aware, I am sure, of the high regard that ancient Egyptians had for cats.

So reading Vaillant’s book made me look at our little friends in a different light. We are still dependent on each other—our cats and us. They need our attention just as we benefit from their loving attention to us. But, underneath it all, lies the heart of a hunter. Two hunters—actually—the clumsy human one and the highly skilled feline one.