Animal Intelligence Part 25

This reminds me of a circ.u.mstance which lately happened at Chalk Farm, near Hampton. A man, set to watch a field of peas which had been much preyed upon by pigeons, shot an old c.o.c.k pigeon which had long been an inhabitant of the farm. His mate, around whom he had for many a year cooed, whom he had nourished from his own crop, and had a.s.sisted in rearing numerous young ones, immediately settled on the ground by his side, and showed her grief in the most expressive manner. The labourer took up the dead bird, and tied it to a short stake, thinking that it would frighten away the other depredators. In this situation, however, the widow did not forsake her deceased husband, but continued, day after day, walking slowly round the stick. The kind-hearted wife of the bailiff of the farm at last heard of the circ.u.mstance, and immediately went to afford what relief she could to the poor bird. She told me that, on arriving at the spot, she found the hen bird much exhausted, and that she had made a circular beaten track round the dead pigeon, making now and then a little spring towards him. On the removal of the dead bird the hen returned to the dove-cote.[148]

As evidence of the intensity of the maternal instinct even in the case of barren birds, I may quote the following from the naturalist Couch. I do so because, although the instance is a trivial one, and also one of frequent occurrence, it is interesting as showing that a deeply rooted instinct or emotion may a.s.sert itself powerfully even in the absence of what may be termed its natural stimulus or object:--

I was once witness to a curious instance of the yearning for progeny in a diminutive bantam hen.

There was at this time a nest of the common hen in a secluded part of the garden, and the parent had been sitting on its eggs, till compelled by hunger she left them for a short time. This absence was fatal; for the bantam had in the meantime found its situation in a covered recess in the hedge, and I saw her creep into it with all the triumph of the discoverer of a treasure. The real mother now returned, and great was her agony at finding an intruder in her nest. The expression of her eye and the att.i.tude of her head were emphatic of surprise at the impudence of the proceeding. But after many attempts to recover possession she was compelled to resign her rights, for the bantam was too resolute to be contended with; and though its body was not big enough to cover the whole of the eggs, and thus some of them were not hatched, yet in due season the pride of this audacious step-mother was gratified by strutting at the head of a company of robust chickens, which she pa.s.sed off upon the feathered public as a brood of her own.[149]

As evidence of sympathy I shall quote _in extenso_ an interesting case which has been communicated to me by a young lady, who desires her name withheld. There are several more or less corroborative cases in the anecdote-books,[150] so that I have no doubt as to the substantial accuracy of the account:--

My grandfather had a Swan River gander, which had been reared near the house, and had consequently attached himself to the members of the family; so much so that, on seeing any of them at a distance, he would run to meet them with all possible demonstrations of delight.

But 'Swanny' was quite an outcast from his own tribe; and as often as he made humble overtures to the other geese, so often was he driven away with great contempt, and on such occasions he would frequently run to some of his human friends, and laying his head on their laps, seem to seek for sympathy. At last, however, he found a friend among his own species. An old grey goose, becoming blind, was also discarded by her more fortunate companions, and Swanny lost no opportunity of recognising this comrade in distress.

He at once took her under his protection and led her about. When he considered it well for her to have a swim, he would gently take her neck in his bill, and thus lead her, sometimes a considerable distance, to the water's edge. Having fairly launched her, he kept close by her side, and guided her from dangerous places by arching his neck over hers, and so turning her in the right direction. After cruising about a sufficient time, he would guide her to a convenient landing-place, and taking her neck in his bill as before, lead her to _terra firma_ again. When she had goslings, he would proudly convoy the whole party to the water-side; and if any ill-fated gosling got into difficulties in a hole or deep cart-rut, Swanny with ready skill would put his bill under its body, and carefully raise it to the level ground.

My grandfather had also another gander who attached himself to him, and would follow him for hours through fields and lanes, pausing when he stood still, and waddling gravely by his side as he proceeded. This gander was not, like the other, discarded by his kind, but would leave them any time to walk with his master, and was exceedingly jealous of any one else who tried to share this privilege, excepting only his mistress.

On one occasion, a gentleman venturing to place his hand on my grandfather's arm, the gander flew at him, and beat him severely with his wings, and it was with great difficulty that he was induced to let go.

The solicitude which most gregarious birds display when one of their number is wounded or captured, const.i.tutes strong evidence of sympathy.

As Jesse observes,--

There is one trait in the character of the rook which is, I believe, peculiar to that bird, and which does him no little credit; it is the distress which is exhibited when one of his fellows has been killed or wounded by a gun while they have been feeding in a field or flying over it. Instead of being scared away by the report of the gun, leaving their wounded or dead companion to his fate, they show the greatest anxiety and sympathy for him, uttering cries of distress, and plainly proving that they wish to render him a.s.sistance by hovering over him, or sometimes making a dart from the air close up to him, apparently to try and find out the reason why he did not follow them... . I have seen one of my labourers pick up a rook which he had shot at for the purpose of putting him up as a scarecrow in a field of wheat, and while the poor wounded bird was still fluttering in his hand, I have observed one of his companions make a wheel round in the air, and suddenly dart past him so as almost to touch him, perhaps with the last hope that he might still afford a.s.sistance to his unfortunate mate or companion. Even when the dead bird has been hung, _in terrorem_, to a stake in the field, he has been visited by some of his former friends, but as soon as they found that the case was hopeless, they have generally abandoned that field altogether.

When one considers the instinctive care with which rooks avoid any one carrying a gun, and which is so evident that I have often heard country people remark that a rook can smell gunpowder, one can more justly estimate the force of their love or friends.h.i.+p in thus continuing to hover round a person who has just destroyed one of their companions with an instrument the dangerous nature of which they seem fully capable of appreciating.[151]

The justice of these remarks may be better appreciated in the light of the following very remarkable observation, as an introduction to which I have quoted them.

Edward, the naturalist, having shot a tern, which fell winged into the sea, its companions hovered around the floating bird, manifesting much apparent solicitude, as terns and gulls always do under such circ.u.mstances. How far this apparent solicitude is real I have often speculated, as in the a.n.a.logous case of the crows--wondering whether the emotions concerned were really those of sympathy or mere curiosity. The following observation, however, seems to set this question at rest.

Having begun to make preparations for securing the wounded bird, Edward says: 'I expected in a few moments to have it in my possession, being not very far from the water's edge, and drifting sh.o.r.ewards with the wind.' He continues:--

While matters were in this position I beheld, to my utter astonishment and surprise, two of the unwounded terns take hold of their disabled comrade, one at each wing, lift him out of the water, and bear him out seawards. They were followed by two other birds. After being carried about six or seven yards, he was let gently down again, when he was taken up in a similar manner by the two who had been hitherto inactive. In this way they continued to carry him alternately, until they had conveyed him to a rock at a considerable distance, upon which they landed him in safety. Having recovered my self-possession, I made toward the rock, wis.h.i.+ng to obtain the prize which had been so unceremoniously s.n.a.t.c.hed from my grasp. I was observed, however, by the terns; and instead of four, I had in a short time a whole swarm about me. On my near approach to the rock I once more beheld two of them take hold of the wounded bird as they had done already, and bear him out to sea in triumph, far beyond my reach. This, had I been so inclined, I could no doubt have prevented. Under the circ.u.mstances, however, my feelings would not permit me; and I willingly allowed them to perform without molestation an act of mercy, and to exhibit an instance of affection which man himself need not be ashamed to imitate.[152]

According to Clavigero,[153] the inhabitants of Mexico utilise the sympathy of the wild pelican for the procuring of fish. First a pelican is caught and its wing broken. The bird is then tied to a tree, and being both in pain and captivity, it utters cries of distress. Other pelicans are attracted by the cries, and finding their friend in such a sorry case, their bowels of compa.s.sion become moved in a very literal sense; for they disgorge from their stomachs and pouches the fish which they have caught, and deposit them within reach of the captive. As soon as this is done the men, who have been lying in wait concealed, run to the spot, drive off the friendly pelicans, and secure their fish, leaving only a small quant.i.ty for the use of the captive.

The parrot which belonged to the Buffon family showed much sympathy with a female servant to whom it was attached when the girl had a sore finger, which it displayed by its never leaving her sick room, and groaning as if itself in pain. As soon as the girl got better the bird again became cheerful.

I shall conclude this brief demonstration of the keen sympathy which may exist in birds, by quoting the following very conclusive case in the words of its distinguished observer, Dr. Franklin:[1]--

I have known two parrots, said he, which had lived together four years, when the female became weak, and her legs swelled. These were symptoms of gout, a disease to which all birds of this family are very subject in England. It became impossible for her to descend from the perch, or to take her food as formerly, but the male was most a.s.siduous in carrying it to her in his beak. He continued feeding her in this manner during four months, but the infirmities of his companion increased from day to day, so that at last she was unable to support herself on the perch.

She remained cowering down in the bottom of the cage, making, from time to time, ineffectual efforts to regain the perch. The male was always near her, and with all his strength aided the feeble attempts of his dear better half. Seizing the poor invalid by the beak, or the upper part of the wing, he tried to raise her, and renewed his efforts several times.

His constancy, his gestures, and his continued solicitude, all showed in this affectionate bird the most ardent desire to relieve the sufferings and a.s.sist the weakness of his companion.

But the scene became still more interesting when the female was dying. Her unhappy spouse moved around her incessantly, his attention and tender cares redoubled.

He even tried to open her beak to give some nourishment. He ran to her, then returned with a troubled and agitated look. At intervals he uttered the most plaintive cries; then, with his eyes fixed on her, kept a mournful silence. At length his companion breathed her last; from that moment he pined away, and died in the course of a few weeks.[154]

The jealousy of birds is proverbial; and that they also manifest the kindred pa.s.sion of emulation, no one can doubt who has heard them singing against one another. Mr. Bold relates that a mule canary would always sing at his own image in a mirror, becoming more and more excited, till he ended by flying in rage against his supposed rival.

The late Lady Napier wrote me, among other 'anecdotes of a grey parrot left on a long visit to the family of General Sir William Napier, at the time residing in Germany,' the following graphic description of the exultation displayed by the bird when it baffled the imitative powers of its master. The bird was the same as that already mentioned under the head of 'Memory':--

Sometimes when only two or three were in the room, at quiet occupations instead of talking, she would utter at short intervals a series of strong squalls or cries in an interjectional style, each more strange and grotesque than the previous one. My father on these occasions sometimes amused himself by imitating these cries as she uttered them, which seemed to excite her ingenuity in the production of them to the uttermost.

As a last resource she always had recourse to a very peculiar one, which completely baffled him; upon which, with a loud ha! ha! ha! she made a somersault round her perch, swinging with her head downwards, sprung from one part of the cage to another, and tossed a bit of wood she used as a toy over her head in the most exulting triumph, repeating at intervals the inimitable cry, followed by peals of ha! ha! ha!

to the great amus.e.m.e.nt of all present.

Allied to emulation is resentment, of which the following, communicated to me by a correspondent, may be taken as an example. If s.p.a.ce permitted I could give confirmatory cases:--

One day the cat and the parrot had a quarrel. I think the cat had upset Polly's food, or something of that kind; however, they seemed all right again. An hour or so after, Polly was standing on the edge of the table; she called out in a tone of extreme affection, 'Puss, puss, come then--come then, p.u.s.s.y.' p.u.s.s.y went and looked up innocently enough. Polly with her beak seized a basin of milk standing by, and tipped the basin and all its contents over the cat; then chuckled diabolically, of course broke the basin, and half drowned the cat.

Several strange but mutually corroborative stories seem to show cherished vindictiveness on the part of storks. Thus, in Captain Brown's book there occurs an account of a tame stork which lived in the college yard at Tubingen,--

And in a neighbouring house was a nest, in which other storks, that annually resorted to the place, used to hatch their eggs. At this nest, one day in autumn, a young collegian fired a shot, by which the stork that was sitting on it was probably wounded, for it did not fly out of the nest for some weeks afterwards. It was able, however, to take its departure at the usual time with the rest of the storks. But in the ensuing spring a strange stork was observed on the roof of the college, which, by clapping his wings and other gestures, seemed to invite the tame stork to come to him; but, as the tame one's wings were clipped, he was unable to accept the invitation. After some days the strange stork appeared again, and came down into the yard, when the tame one went out to meet him, clapping his wings as if to bid him welcome, but was suddenly attacked by the visitor with great fury. Some of the neighbours protected the tame bird, and drove off the a.s.sailant, but he returned several times afterwards, and incommoded the other through the whole summer. The next spring, instead of one stork only, four storks came together into the yard, and fell upon the tame one; when all the poultry present--c.o.c.ks, hens, geese, and ducks--flocked at once to his a.s.sistance, and rescued him from his enemies. In consequence of this serious attack, the people of the house took precaution for the tame stork's security, and he was no more molested that year. But in the beginning of the third spring came upwards of twenty storks, which rushed at once into the yard and killed the tame stork before either man or any other animal could afford him protection.

A similar occurrence took place on the premises of a farmer near Hamburg, who kept a tame stork, and, having caught another, thought to make it a companion for the one in his possession. But the two were no sooner brought together than the tame one fell upon the other, and beat him so severely that he made his escape from the place. About four months afterwards, however, the defeated stork returned with three others, who all made a combined attack upon the tame one and killed him.[155]

The curiosity of birds is highly developed, so much so, indeed, that in this and other countries it is played upon by sportsmen and trappers.

Unfamiliar objects being placed within sight, say, of ducks, the birds approach to examine them, and fall into the snares which have been prepared. Similarly, in oceanic islands unfrequented by man, the birds fearlessly approach to examine the first human beings that they have seen.

That birds exhibit pride might be considered doubtful if we had to rely only on the evidence supplied by the display of the peac.o.c.k, and the strutting of the turkey-gobbler; for these actions, although so expressive of this emotion, may not really be due to it. But I think that the evident pleasure which is taken in achievement by talking birds can only be ascribed to the emotion in question. These birds regularly practise their art, and when a new phrase is perfected they show an unmistakable delight in displaying the result.

Play is exhibited by many species in various ways, and it seems to be this cla.s.s of feelings in their most organised form which have led to the extraordinary instincts of the bower-birds of New South Wales. The 'playhouses' of the animals have been described by Mr. Gould in his 'History of the Birds of New South Wales.' Of course the play-instincts are here united with those of courts.h.i.+p, which are of such general occurrence among birds; but I think no one can read Mr. Gould's description of the bowers and the uses to which they are put without feeling that the love of sportive play must have been joined with the s.e.xual instincts in producing the result. But, be this as it may, there can be no question that these bowers are highly interesting structures, as furnis.h.i.+ng the most unexceptionable evidence of true aesthetic, if not artistic feeling, on the part of the bird which constructs them; and, according to Mr. Herbert Spencer, the artistic feelings are physiologically allied with those of play. It is a matter of importance to obtain definite proof of an aesthetic sense in animals, because this const.i.tutes the basis of Mr. Darwin's theory of s.e.xual selection; but as he has treated the evidence on this subject in so exhaustive a manner, I shall not enter upon so wide a field further than to point out that the case of the bower-bird, even if it stood alone, would be amply sufficient to carry the general conclusion that some animals exhibit emotions of the beautiful. The following is Mr. Gould's description, _in extenso_, of the habits of the bird in question:--

The extraordinary bower-like structure, alluded to in my remarks on the genus, first came under my notice in the Sydney Museum, to which an example had been presented by Charles c.o.x, Esq... . On visiting the cedar bushes of the Liverpool range, I discovered several of these bowers or playing-houses on the ground, under the shelter of the branches of the overhanging trees, in the most retired part of the forest; they differed considerably in size, some being a third larger than others. The base consists of an extensive and rather convex platform of sticks firmly interwoven, on the centre of which the bower itself is built. This, like the platform on which it is placed, and with which it is interwoven, is formed of sticks and twigs, but of a more slender and flexible description, the tips of the twigs being so arranged as to curve inwards and nearly meet at the top; in the interior the materials are so placed that the forks of the twigs are always presented outwards, by which arrangement not the slightest obstruction is offered to the pa.s.sage of the birds. The interest of this curious bower is much enhanced by the manner in which it is decorated with the most gaily coloured articles that can be collected, such as the blue tail-feathers of the Rose-hill and Pennantian parakeets, bleached bones and sh.e.l.ls of snails, &c.; some of the feathers are inserted among the twigs, while others with the bones and sh.e.l.ls are strewed near the entrances. The propensity of these birds to fly off with any attractive object is so well known to the natives that they always search the runs for any small missing article that may have been accidentally dropped in the bush. I myself found at the entrance of one of them a small neatly worked stone tomahawk of an inch and a half in length, together with some slips of blue cotton rag, which the birds had doubtless picked up at a deserted encampment of the natives.

It has now been clearly ascertained that these curious bowers are merely sporting-places in which the s.e.xes meet, when the males display their finery, and exhibit many remarkable actions; and so inherent is this habit, that the living examples, which have been from time to time sent to this country, continue it even in captivity.[156] Those belonging to the Zoological Society have constructed their bowers, decorated and kept them in repair, for several years. In a letter from the late Mr. F.

Strange, it is said:--

My aviary is now tenanted by a pair of satin-birds, which for the last two months have been constantly engaged in constructing bowers. Both s.e.xes a.s.sist in their erection, but the male is the princ.i.p.al workman.

At times the male will chase the female all over the aviary, then go to the bower, pick up a gay feather or a large leaf, utter a curious kind of note, set all his feathers erect, run round the bower, and become so excited that his eyes appear ready to start from his head, and he continues opening first one wing and then another, uttering a low whistling note, and, like the domestic c.o.c.k, seems to be picking up something from the ground, until at last the female goes gently towards him, when after two turns round her, he suddenly makes a dash, and the scene ends.[157]

I have said that if this case stood alone it would const.i.tute ample evidence that some animals possess emotions of the beautiful. But the case does not stand alone. Certain humming-birds, according to Mr.

Gould, decorate the outsides of their nests 'with the utmost taste; they instinctively fasten thereon beautiful pieces of flat lichen, the larger pieces in the middle, and the smaller on the part attached to the branch. Now and then a pretty feather is intertwined or fastened to the outer sides, the stem being always so placed that the feather stands out beyond the surface.' Several other instances might be rendered of the display of artistic feeling in the architecture of birds; and, as Mr.

Darwin so elaborately shows, there can scarcely be question that these animals take emotional pleasure in surveying beautiful plumage in the opposite s.e.x, looking to the careful manner in which the males of many species display their fine colours to the females. Doubtless the evidence of aesthetic feeling is much stronger in the case of birds than it is in that of any other cla.s.s; but if this feeling is accepted as a sufficient cause, through s.e.xual selection, of natural decoration in the members of this cla.s.s, we are justified in attributing to s.e.xual selection, and so to aesthetic feeling, natural decoration in other cla.s.ses, at least as low down in the scale as the Articulata. But, as I have said, Mr. Darwin has dealt with this whole subject in so exhaustive a manner that it is needless for me to enter upon it further than to say in general terms, that whatever we may think of his theory of s.e.xual selection, his researches have unquestionably proved the existence of an aesthetic sense in animals.

The same fact appears to be shown in another way by the fondness of song-birds for the music of their mates. There can be no doubt that male birds charm their females with their strains, and that this, in fact, is the reason why song in birds has become developed. Of course it may be said that the vocal utterances of birds are not always, or even generally, musical; but this does not affect the fact that birds find some aesthetic pleasure in the sounds which they emit; it only shows that the standard of aesthetic taste differs in different species of birds as it does in different races of men. Moreover, the pleasure which birds manifest in musical sounds is not always restricted to the sounds which they themselves produce. Parrots seem certainly to take delight in hearing a piano play or a girl sing; and the following instance, published by the musician John Lockman, reveals in a remarkable manner the power of distinguis.h.i.+ng a particular air, and of preferring it above others. He was staying at the house of a Mr. Lee in Ches.h.i.+re, whose daughter used to play; and whenever she played the air of 'Speri si'

from Handel's opera of 'Admetus,' a pigeon would descend from an adjacent dovecot to the window of the room where she sat, 'and listen to the air apparently with the most pleasing emotions,' always returning to the dovecot immediately the air was finished. But it was only this one air that would induce the bird to behave in this way.[158]

_Special Habits._

Under this heading we shall have a number of facts to consider, which are more or less of a disconnected character.

Taking first those special habits connected with the procuring of food, we may notice the instinct manifested by blackbirds and thrushes of conveying snails to considerable distances in order to hammer and break their sh.e.l.ls against what may happen to be the nearest stone,[159] and the still more clever though somewhat a.n.a.logous instinct exhibited by certain gulls and crows of flying with sh.e.l.l-fish to a considerable height and letting them fall upon stones for the purpose of smas.h.i.+ng their sh.e.l.ls.[160] Both these instincts manifest a high degree of intelligence, either on the part of the birds themselves, or on that of their ancestors; for neither of these instincts can be regarded as due to originally accidental adjustments favoured and improved by natural selection; they must at least originally have been intelligent actions purposely designed to secure the ends attained.

An interesting instinct is that of piracy, which in the animal kingdom reaches its highest or most systematic development among the birds. It is easy to see how it may be of more advantage to a species of strong bird that its members should become parasitic on the labours of other species than that they should forage for themselves, and so there is no difficulty in understanding the development of the plundering instinct by natural selection. We find all stages of this development among the sea-birds. Thus the gulls, although usually self-foragers, will, as I have often observed, congregate in enormous numbers where the guillemots have found a shoal of fish. Resting on or flying over the surface of the water, the gulls wait till a guillemot comes to the surface with a fish, and then wrest the latter from the beak of the former. In the robber-tern this instinct has proceeded further, so that the animal gains its subsistence entirely by plunder of other terns. I have often observed this process, and it is interesting that the common tern well knows the appearance of the robber; for no sooner does a robber-tern come up than the greatest consternation is excited among a flock of common terns, these flying about and screaming in a frantic manner. The white-headed eagle has also developed the plundering instinct in great perfection, as is shown by the following graphic account of Audubon:--

During spring and summer, the white-headed eagle, to procure sustenance, follows a different course, and one much less suited to a bird apparently so well able to supply itself without interfering with other plunderers. No sooner does the first hawk make its appearance along the Atlantic sh.o.r.e, or around the numerous and large rivers, than the eagle follows it, and, like a selfish oppressor, robs it of the hard-earned fruits of its labour. Perched on some tall summit, in view of the ocean or of some watercourse, he watches every motion of the osprey while on the wing. When the latter rises from the water, with a fish in its grasp, forth rushes the eagle in pursuit.

He mounts above the fish-hawk, and threatens it by actions well understood; when the latter, fearing perhaps that its life is in danger, drops its prey. In an instant the eagle, accurately estimating the rapid descent of the fish, closes its wings, follows it with the swiftness of thought, and the next moment grasps it. The prize is carried off in silence to the woods, and a.s.sists in feeding the ever-hungry brood of the eagle.

The frigate pelican is likewise a professional thief, and attacks the b.o.o.bies not only to make them drop the fish which they have newly caught, but also to disgorge those which are actually in their stomachs.