In the same manner, too, Elpis, a native of Samos, on landing from a vessel on the coast of Africa, observed a lion near the beach, opening his mouth in a threatening manner; upon which he climbed a tree, in the hope of escaping, while, at the same time, he invoked the aid of Father Liber; for it is the appropriate time for invocations when there is no room left for hope. The wild beast did not pursue him as he fled, although he might easily have done so; but, lying down at the foot of the tree, tried by the open mouth which had caused so much terror, to excite his compassion. It appeared that while he was devouring his food with too great avidity, a bone had stuck fast between his teeth, and he was perishing with hunger. Elpis, although he understood his mute entreaties, did not dare to risk trusting himself to so formidable a beast, so he remained stationary for some time, more from astonishment than from fear. At length, however, he descended from the tree and extracted the bone, the lion in the mean while extending his head, and aiding in the operation as far as it was necessary for him to do. The story goes on to say, that as long as the vessel remained off that coast, the lion showed his sense of gratitude by bringing to it whatever he had chanced to procure in the chase. In memory of this circumstance, Elpis consecrated a temple at Samos to Father Liber, which the Greeks, from the circumstance above related, called “the temple κεχηνότος Διονύσον,” or “temple of the open-mouthed Bacchus.” Can we wonder, after this, that the wild beasts should be able to recognize the footsteps of man, when of him alone of all animals they even hope for aid? For why should they not have recourse to others for assistance? Or how is it that they know that the hand of man has power to heal them? Unless, perhaps, it is that the violence of pain can force even wild beasts to risk everything to obtain relief.
Demetrius, the natural philosopher, relates an equally remarkable instance, in relation to a panther. The animal was lying in the middle of the road, waiting for some one to pass that way, when he was suddenly perceived by the father of one Philinus, an ardent lover of wisdom. Seized with fear, he immediately began to retreat; while the beast rolled itself before him, evidently with the desire of caressing him, at the same time manifesting signs of grief, which could not be misunderstood even in a panther. The animal had young ones, which had happened to fall into a pit at some distance from the place. The first dictates of compassion banished all fear, and the next prompted him to assist the animal. He accordingly followed her, as she gently drew him on by fixing her claws in his garment; and as soon as he discovered what was the cause of her grief and the price of his own safety, he took the whelps out of the pit, and they followed her to the end of the desert; whither he was escorted by her, frisking with joy and gladness, in order that she might more appropriately testify how grateful she was, and how little she had given him in return; a mode of acting which is but rarely found even among men.