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Text A
Whenever we see pictures of animals or gaze at them in a zoo, we are often astounded by their beauty.
The tiger, with its well-defined stripes, is a magnificent creature, while the leopard is equally attractive,
with its richly spotted fur. This magnificence is not confined to large animals. Some of the smallest
insects display intricate patterns of color. Who hasn’t contemplated the delicate wings of a butterfly and
wondered why nature has created such beauty?

In fact, nature usually has a reason for the appearance of any animal or insect. The butterfly’s coloring is
not just for embellishment. The vivid colors of some butterflies warn other creatures not to eat them, as
well as allowing males to attract female butterflies to mate with them. The tiger’s stripes, on the other-
hand, keep it camouflaged as it stalks its prey, as does the leopards spotted coat, enabling them to
approach their intended victims surreptitiously. The colorings of these animals help them to efficient
hunters; failure would mean starvation.

The fight for survival is a drama played out every day on the wide plains of Africa. Here the herd of
animals eat grass from dawn to dusk, constantly observed by the lions and cheetahs, for these grazing
animals are their prey. These big cats move silently, hugging the ground, then burst in to brief but
dazzling turn of speed. Frequently they work as a group, some chasing the herd, others isolating its
slower members. Once the big cats pounce, their sharp claws and dagger like teeth will swiftly bring the
killing process to its inevitable conclusion.

But nature has decreed that both the hunter and the hunted are equally matched in this contest for
survival. Many of the grazing animals have exceptionally keen sight and hearing to alert them to possible
danger. They also have great speed, which they can sustain over long distances. Through the ages the
predators have continued to evolve in both agility and cunning, while their prey has become even faster
and their senses ever keener. Thus, nature has fine-tuned the disparate abilities of both sets of
participants in the fight.

A Further attribute that nature has implanted in many animals is instinct. Animals under threat have a
sixth sense that danger is nearby; their ears prick up and they freeze for a moment, hoping to avoid
detection. Then fear takes over, and flight automatically follows. Human beings too, sometimes exhibit
this instinct when danger looms. Our brains somehow sense danger before it actually appears; at such a
moment this instinct triggers in us an ability to run faster and further than would normally be possible.

However, human beings are not always governed by instinct. In times of peril they are able to estimate
the nature of the threat that faces them and decide how to deal with it. This ability is demonstrated
most clearly when people risk their lives to help others; they feel such pity for those in danger that self-
preservation is totally forgotten. There is a theory that this is just a relic of the co-operative animal
behavior which we learn as hunters at an early age in our evolution. However, in performing acts of
heroism, human being combine feelings and reason in a way that would be beyond a primitive
creature’s capability.

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Text B “The Animal Contract” By Desmond Morris
In early days, Man treated animals better because he respected and feared them and did not consider
them as inferior. In fact men probably saw animals as being superior to them in some ways- muscular
strength, speed, hearing, sense of smell. But as time went by this concept faded and man began to feel
superior to animals and treat them unfairly.

Animals faced glaring consequences due to this changed perspective. One was that they came to be
used for entertainment, often of a degrading nature. Travelling showmen included performing monkeys
and dancing bears in their displays, making these animals look thoughtless. Animals became showpieces
in circuses and were made to do ridiculous tricks to exhibit that man was superior to them. The most
obvious example was in sheer strength. The lion and elephant were clearly much stronger than humans,
so circus acts were devised in which the strength of the animals was dominated by human intelligence:
the lion was skillfully trained to jump through the hoop, the elephant to bow to the audience.

Another way in which animals were subdued for Man’s inclination was through zoos. An enormous zoo,
with no fewer than 600 animal keepers, was discovered by Spanish explorers in the ancient empire of
the Aztecs. Other civilizations also devoted much energy to collecting animals. This was frequently to
satisfy a curiosity about animal life but also to provide an enclosed area for hunting in which the animals
became an easy targets. More recently zoo animals are seen by many as mere captives, who are bored,
frustrated and deprived of almost all activities natural to them. Nowadays we have open zoos, like the
safari parks, which offer some comfort to animals, although serious drawbacks have emerged. Animals
here are sometimes exposed to exhaust fumes from visitor’s car, making them susceptible to ailment.

Animals also suffered at the hands of man in that they were gradually but systematically destroyed by
Europeans to make way for agricultural land to provide food for a fast growing population. Then
twentieth- century farmers started to use pesticides, poisoning the creatures on which so many of the
remaining larger animals depended. Throughout all this, the rich were hunting, shooting and fishing for
sport. Looking back, one is surprised that modern Europe has any wildlife left at all.

In the last century, Europeans went all over the world to hunt animals for sport. Naturalist too joined in
the hunt to collect specimens for museums. In time the animals came to be protected. Today there is no
hunting but a lot of visits to animal sanctuaries by tourists pollute animals’ habitats. This has caused the
animal population to shrink. Animals have had to change their natural behavior to survive.

Many fascinating species of animals today are on the verge of extinctions and the list is depressingly
long. The government authorities who can stop this are too involved in human problems to bother
about protecting animals.

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Text C “My family and Other animals” By Gerald Durrell
The crumbling wall that surrounded the sunken garden alongside the house in
Greece was a rich hunting ground for me. It was an ancient brick wall that had been
plastered over, but now the whole surface was an intricate map of cracks. There
was a whole landscape on this wall if you peered closely enough to see it; the roofs
of a hundred tiny toadstools, like villages on the damper portions; mountains of
bottle-green moss; forests of small ferns drooping languidly like little green
fountains. The top of the wall was a desert land, too dry for anything except a few
rust-red mosses to live in it. At the base of the wall was a pile of broken and chipped
roof-tiles.

The inhabitants of the wall were a mixed lot, but the shyest of the wall community
were the most dangerous. Under a piece of the loose plaster there would be a little
black scorpion an inch long, looking as though he were made out of polished
chocolate. They were weird-looking things, with their neat, crooked legs and the tail
like a string of brown beads ending in a poisonous sting like a rose-thorn. I grew very
fond of these scorpions. Provided you did nothing silly or clumsy (like putting your
hand on one) the scorpions treated you with respect, their one desire being to get away
and hide as quickly as possible.

One day I found a fat female scorpion in the wall, wearing what at first glance
appeared to be a pale fawn fur coat. Closer inspection proved that this strange garment
was made up of a mass of tiny babies clinging to the mother’s back. I was enraptured
by this family, and I made up my mind to smuggle them into the house. With infinite
care I manoeuvred the mother and family into a matchbox, and then hurried home.
Just as I entered the door, lunch was served; so, I placed the matchbox carefully on the
mantelpiece in the drawing-room, and made my way to the dining room and joined
the family for the meal. My elder brother Larry, having finished his meal, fetched his
cigarettes and the matchbox from the drawing room, and lying back in the chair he
put one in his mouth. Oblivious of my impending doom I watched him interestedly
as he opened the matchbox.

Now I maintain to this day that the female scorpion meant no harm. She was agitated
and a trifle annoyed at being shut up in a matchbox for so long. She hoisted herself
out of the box with great rapidity, her babies clinging on desperately, and scuttled on
to the back of Larry’s hand. There, not quite certain what to do next, she paused, her
sting curved up at the ready. Larry, feeling the movement of her claws, glanced down
to see what it was.

He uttered a roar of fright that made the maid drop a plate and brought Roger, the
dog, from beneath the table, barking wildly. With a flick of his hand Larry sent the
unfortunate scorpion flying down the table, and she landed midway between Margo
and Leslie, scattering babies like confetti. Thoroughly enraged at this treatment, the
creature sped towards Leslie, her sting quivering with emotion. Leslie leapt to his feet
and flicked out desperately with his napkin, sending the scorpion rolling across the
cloth towards Margo, who promptly let out a scream that any railway engine would
have been proud to produce. Mother, completely bewildered, put on her glasses and

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peered down the table to see what was causing the pandemonium, and at that moment
Margo, in a vain attempt to stop the scorpion’s advance, hurled a glass of water at
it. The shower missed the animal completely, but successfully drenched Mother. The
scorpion had now gone to ground under Leslie’s plate, while her babies swarmed
wildly all over the table. Roger, mystified by the panic, but determined to do his
share, ran round and round the room, barking hysterically.

“It’s that boy again…” bellowed Larry.

By the time a certain amount of order had been restored, all the baby scorpions had
hidden themselves. While the family, still simmering with rage and fright, retired to
the drawing room, I spent half an hour rounding up the babies, picking them up in a
teaspoon and returning them to their mother’s back. Then I carried them outside and,
with the utmost reluctance, released them on the garden wall. Roger and I spent the
afternoon on the hillside, for I felt it would be prudent to allow the family to have a
rest before seeing them again.