He even finds at last that his mind wanders during the performance, and that at the very instant when he is holding the ring for the leap, or thrusting his head into the beast's fearful jaws, he is thinking of his wife, of his little child, of his domestic happiness or household troubles, rather than of what he is doing.

Many times, perhaps many hundreds of times, all passes off quietly and successfully.

Then, inevitably, comes the struggle.

Who can tell the causes?
The tiger is growing old, or is ill fed, or is not well, or is merely in one of those evil humours to which animals are subject as well as their masters.

One day he refuses to go through with the performance.