In these degenerate days the mungoose does not perform such venturesome exploits; nevertheless, he still has a “bold and sanguinary disposition.” Sterndale’s tame mungoose once attacked a greyhound. Although in the wild state he does nothing so quixotic as to assail large snakes, the mungoose is a match for the cobra. The natives of India declare that, when bitten by his adversary, he trots off into the jungle and there finds a root or plant which acts as an antidote to poison, so that he may claim to be the discoverer of the anti-venom treatment for snake-bite. We may term this the anti-venom theory to account for the immunity of the mungoose. It bears the stamp of antiquity, but is unsupported by any evidence. In this respect it is not much worse off than some modern zoological theories. The other hypothesis we may call the-prevention-is-better-than-cure theory. It attributes the immunity of the mungoose to his remarkable agility. He does not allow the cobra to “have a bite,” and even if the latter does succeed in striking, the chances are that its fangs will be turned aside by the erected hair of the mungoose or fail to penetrate his tough skin. Blanford states that although it has been repeatedly proved that the little mammal dies if properly bitten by a venomous snake, it is less susceptible to poison than other animals. He adds: “I have seen a mungoose eat up the head and poison glands of a large cobra, so the poison must be harmless to the mucous membrane of the former animal.”

Eight species of mungoose occur in the Indian Empire. The only one which is well known is the common mungoose, which Jerdon calls Herpestes griseus. It is, I believe, now known as Herpestes mungo. During the last century it has been renamed some eight or nine times.

It is not necessary to describe the mungoose. The few Anglo-Indians who have not met him in the wild state must have frequently seen him among the “properties” of the individual who calls himself a snake-charmer.

The mungoose lives in a hole excavated by itself. It is diurnal in habits, and feeds largely on animal food. Jerdon states that it is “very destructive to such birds as frequent the ground. Not infrequently it gets access to tame pigeons, rabbits, or poultry, and commits great havoc. . . . I have often seen it make a dash into a verandah where some cages of mynas, parrakeets, etc., were daily placed, and endeavour to tear them from their cage.” But birds are not easy for a terrestrial creature to procure, so that its animal food consists chiefly of mice, small snakes, lizards, and insects. Jerdon states that “it hunts for and devours the eggs of partridges, quail, and other ground-laying birds.” I am inclined to think that the carnivorous propensities of the mungoose have been exaggerated, for its food seems to contain a considerable admixture of vegetable substances. In captivity it will eat bread and bananas, although it requires animal food in addition. McMaster records the case of a mungoose killed near Secunderabad, of which the stomach contained a quail, a portion of a custard apple, a small wasp’s nest, a blood-sucker lizard, and a number of insects—quite a recherchÉ little repast!

In Lahore I, or rather my wife, made the discovery that the mungoose is very fond of bird-seed. A certain individual contrived to spend the greater part of the day in our bungalow. He was probably attracted in the first instance by the amadavats. Finding that these were secure in their strongly-made cage, he turned his attention to their seed, and found that it was good. When he had devoured all that had fallen to the ground he would endeavour by means of his claws to extract seed from within the cage. This used to alarm the birds terribly; one night their flutterings woke me up. It takes an amadavat a long time to learn that it is safe in its cage. It is not until after months of captivity that it will sit on the floor of its house and gaze placidly at the hungry shikra which has alighted on the top. For this reason we did not encourage that mungoose. I may say that we distinctly discouraged it by throwing things at it, or chasing it out of the bungalow whenever we saw it. But it soon became so bold that, unless we ran out of the bungalow after it, it used to remain in hiding in the verandah, and, a few seconds after all was quiet, its little nose would appear at the doorway.

The impudence of the Indian house-crow is great, that of the sparrow is colossal, that of the striped squirrel staggering, but the impudence of all these is surpassed by that of the mungoose. Small wonder, then, that it makes an excellent pet. McMaster kept one that died of grief when separated from him. But, in order to tame a mungoose, the animal must be captured while young. Babu R. P. Sanyal, in his useful Handbook on the Management of Animals in Captivity, writes: “Adult specimens seldom become tame enough even for exhibition in a menagerie; they either remain hidden away in the straw or snap at the wire, uttering a querulous yelp, possibly expressive of disgust, at the approach of man. They have been known to refuse nourishment and to starve to death.”

A mungoose (Herpestes ichneumon) allied to our Indian species is common in Egypt, where it is known as Pharaoh’s rat or Pharoe’s mouse. It is frequently trained by the inhabitants to protect them from rats and snakes.

The mungoose is a ratter without peer. Bennet, in his Tower Menagerie, states that “the individual now in the Tower actually, on one occasion, killed no fewer than a dozen full-grown rats, which were loosed to it in a room 16 feet square, in less than a minute and a half.” The Egyptian species eats crocodiles’ eggs, so that Diodorus Siculus remarks that but for the ichneumon there would have been no sailing on the Nile. The Indian species seems to display no penchant towards crocodiles’ eggs.