INTELLIGENT BIRDS
I. A BIRD SCOUT
Among those birds of North Queensland jungles which have marked
individualistic characters is that known as the koel cuckoo, which the
blacks of some localities have named "calloo-calloo"--a mimetic term
imitative of the most frequent notes of the bird. The male is lustrous
black, the female mottled brown, and during most parts of the year both
are extremely shy, though noisy enough in accustomed and quiet haunts.
The principal note of the male is loud, ringing, and most pleasant, but
its vocabulary is fairly extensive. Sometimes it yelps loud and long like
a puppy complaining of a smart whipping, sometimes in the gloom of the
evening it moans and wails pitifully like an evil thing tortured mentally
and physically, sometimes it announces the detection of unwelcome
intruders upon its haunts with a blending of purr and hiss.
When "calloo-calloo" comes to the islands, resident blacks look to the
flowering of the bean-tree, for the events are coincident; while as they
understand all its vocal inflections an important secret is often
revealed to them by noisy exclamations. Living in flowerland among the
tops of the trees, the bird is favourably located for the discovery of
snakes, but being strong and lusty there is reason to believe that the
presence of slim green and grey arboreal species is ignored. The
important office that it holds in the domestic economy of the blacks is
in the detection of carpet snakes, which to them form an ever welcome
article of diet. Thus when "calloo-calloo" shouts "snake" in excited,
chattering phrases they run off in the hope of being able to find the
game, and generally one suffices to rid the bird of a deceitful and
implacable enemy and to provide the camp with a substantial meal.
A few months ago a friend who owns a fruitful estate fronting one of the
rivers of the mainland, who was not aware of the aptitude of the bird,
was working with his blacks when "calloo-calloo" gave voice. "That's one!"
exclaimed Dilly Boy, as he rushed into a thick patch of jungle; "he
bin lookout snake!" The boss, concluding that Dilly Boy had merely
invented a plausible excuse for a spell, smiled to himself when he came
back in half an hour wearing an air of philosophic disappointment. "That
fella snake along a tree; bin lookout; too much leep [leaf]. That
calloo-calloo, him sing out proper. Him no more humbug!"
Huge carpet snakes frequently coil themselves so carefully among
parasitic ferns and orchids in the trees that it is impossible to detect
them from below. A couple of days after work was proceeding in the same
locality when a snake, 12 feet long, was found and killed, but the fact
was then not accepted as proof of the theory of the blacks. In the course
of a few days the bird again proclaimed "snake," and all the blacks
hastened to the spot to set about a systematic search. Applying the
detective principle of isolation to various parts of the tree in which by
general consent (corroborating the evidence of the bird) the snake was
concluded to be, the blacks at last decided that the only possible place
of concealment was a mass of elk's-horn fern encircling the trunk about
40 feet from the ground. One of them thereupon climbed the tree, and soon
a carpet snake, 14 feet 6 inches long and 12 inches in girth, was
writhing on the ground. It is well known that these snakes are frequently
found in pairs, and no doubt the "calloo-calloo" had signified the
presence of the mate on the occasion of the first alarm.
Other instances of the shrewdness of the bird and its care for the
wellbeing of the order generally by detecting and proclaiming the
presence of the universal enemy might be cited. One authority asserts
that the bird and the snake are nearly always found together, and seems
to imply that a friendship exists between them, for the bird is referred
to as a "messmate" of the snake. "The bird," he writes, "flies over
the snake with a 'clucky' chirp, and whenever the natives hear it in
the dense scrubs they sneak in to discover the reptile, which is caught
by being grabbed at the back of the head."
In heralding the flower of the bean-tree, and thus awakening thoughts of
the beans, and in indicating snakes (both desirable and indeed essential
articles of food), the "calloo-calloo" performs such valuable service
that it is highly commended. Those who are familiar with the unreflective
omnivority of the blacks and their indelicate appetites generally, may
with difficulty credit the fact that in those districts in which the bird
is recognised as a trustworthy guide it is honoured, and under no
circumstances will they kill it. Of course, the blacks of North
Queensland in native worth have not much art in the killing of birds, but
in every case "calloo-calloo" is tabu.
One instance may be quoted. A great outcry was heard on the edge of the
jungle, and upon investigation a grey falcon and a "calloo-calloo" were
found in such preoccupied "holts" that both were captured. Here was an
opportunity for a meal. The birds were parted, and the falcon given over
to the custody of a gin for execution, while the "calloo-calloo," which
was dazed, was petted and revived until it at last flew away with a glad
call, the blacks assuring a witness, "B'mbi that fella look out snake
belong me fella!"
II. DO BIRDS PLAY?
A somewhat too rigorous critic of the antics of birds has expressed the
opinion that playfulness is unknown among them, that their occasional
friskiness is not an exhibition of lightness of heart, but merely a
martial exercise. The corroboree of native companions (ANTIGONE
AUSTRALASIANA) may certainly be the practice of a defensive manoeuvre,
though it has the appearance of a graceful dance. A partially disabled
bird will pirouette on tiptoes and flap its wings wildly in the face of
its foe, and it is reasonable to imagine that the great birds in
community would keep themselves well trained in their particular methods
of self-defence.
A flock of dotterels bobbing, bowing, skipping, and shouldering one
another may be merely practising some evolution with serious intent,
though it is far more natural to conclude that the frail little birds
are in holiday humour. For all their exercises, they have but one resort
in the presence of a superior foe or an alert single enemy, and that is
in hasty and inconsiderate flight.
From my own experience may be drawn proof of the contention that birds do
practise defensive and offensive tactics, and also that they have their
moments of unreflecting play.
The cassowary (CASUARIUS AUSTRALIS) is a skilful fighter. It hits out
with such force and precision that a weaponless man who stands before the
bird when it is angry and vicious is ridiculously overmatched. The great
bird is so quick that you do not realise that it has got its blow in
first until you see the blood flow. It strikes with its middle toe, and
that toe is a lance, keen if not bright. How does the regal bird of the
jungles of North Queensland acquire this lightning-like stroke? The
answer is, by constant and intelligent practice while young. A year or
two ago I had frequent opportunities for observing a pair of young
cassowaries patiently, yet playfully, performing martial exercises. They
were about the size of a full grown bustard (say, 28 lb. weight); but if
their bulk had been in ratio to their lightheartedness and playfulness,
they would have loomed large as bullocks.
Their favourite spot was round and about a stout post about three feet
high, the ground encircling which had been beaten down by constant use to
polished smoothness. That the ruling passion of the young birds during
their idle hours was determination to acquire skill and alertness there
can be no doubt. Invariably the game began in a particular way. One of
the pair striding round the post--apparently oblivious of its
existence--would lurch against it as a man inspired with rum might treat a
lamp-post intent on getting in his way. Leering at the post for a second,
the bird would march round again to shoulder it roughly a second time.
Then a queer look of simulated petulance and indignation would spread
over its features, and, taking in its measure, the bird would lash out at
the post with grim earnestness. A cyclonic attack ensued. With many
feints and huddling up of its neck, and dodges, and ducks, and lateral
movements of the head quick as thought, the post was chastised for its
insolence and stolid stupidity. It seemed to be hit in several places at
one and the same moment. Its features bore ever increasing scores and
furrows, for it was used for hours every day as a punching-ball.
When one bird grew tired the other imitated most laughably the antics of
its brother, first ignoring the presence of the post, and then, having
lurched dreamily against it, assaulting it with unrestrained fury. Play
and significant offensive tactics were undoubtedly blended in the
pastimes of the cassowary.
Before the boldest of these birds grew to maturity it became such an
expert boxer and so pugnacious and truculent that it was declared unfit
to be at large, and as the State offered no secure asylum the death
penalty was pronounced and duly carried into effect. By good luck I
happened along before all the roast leg had been disposed of, and in
spite of testimony to the contrary have pleasure in declaring that,
notwithstanding the heroic training to which the youthful bird had
subjected itself, the flesh was as tender and as gamey as that of a young
plain turkey.
The other case in point may be briefly cited. While yet young there came
into our possession a magpie (GYMNORHINA TIBICEN), to which as soon as it
was fit for responsibilities full liberty was cheerfully granted.
Breakfast, several tiffens, lunches, and afternoon snacks, and a full
evening's dinner was provided. The dish of scraps was always available.
At will the pet flew in and out of the kitchen, and if by chance food was
not spread out at the accustomed place it protested loudly, and always
effectively. Although a large quantity of food was self-earned, there was
always a substantial meal in reserve.
The bird spent many wayward hours endeavouring to sing. No cultured
relative was present to teach the notes of its kind, so that in default
it learned the complete vocabulary of the domestic poultry, besides the
more familiar calls and exclamations of its mistress, the varied barks of
two dogs, the shrieks of many cockatoos, the gabble of scrub fowls.
The bird also began to play in semi-human style, performing marvellous
acrobatic feats on the clothes-line, and lying on its back juggling with
a twig as some "artists" do with a barrel in the circus. A white-eared
flycatcher took up its abode near the house, and the magpie, after a
decent lapse of time, admitted the stranger to its companionship. The
wild, larderless bird, however, had little time to play. All its wit and
energies were devoted to the serious business of life. It knew none of
the games that the magpie invented save one, and that was a kind of
aerial "peep-bo" to which the brainier bird lured it by means of a
prize.
The magpie found a moth, big of abdomen, fat, and brown, a tempting
morsel to any insectivorous bird. Envious of the dainty, the wagtail
fluttered and skipped about the magpie with cheerful chatter; but the
fluttering moth, daintily held by the extremity of its body, was
alternately presented and denied. They danced about a bush, the magpie
tantalisingly holding the moth for acceptance and hopping off as the
wagtail was about to snatch it. To the tame bird, fortified by knowledge
that its meals were provided, it was all fun. To the hungry wild one the
moth dangled temptingly before it and whipped disappointingly away was a
meal almost to be fought for. It was a game equally sincere but of varied
interest. The one assumed a whimsical air, chuckling in encouraging
tones; the other took it all in earnest.
At last, unable to restrain an exclamation of delight, the magpie
unwarily slackened its hold, and the moth fluttered off to be snapped up
on the instant by the wild bird and gulped without ceremony. After this
the game was frequently played, but the magpie had invariably to make it
worth the while of the wagtail by offering a prize in the shape of some
tit-bit.
Do not these cases support the theories that birds sharpen their
faculties by the exercise of defensive and offensive tactics, and also
that they do indulge in irresponsible play?
III. BIRDS WHICH HAVE REASONED
If one begins to reflect upon the mental attributes of inferior animals,
how aptly is evidence in support of a favourite theory presented? Are
the actions of birds due to automatic impulses or hereditary traits? Is
instinct merely "lapsed intelligence," or do birds actually reflect? Are
they capable of applying the results of habit and observations in respect
of one set of circumstances to other and different conditions? John
Burroughs expresses the opinion that birds have perceptions, but not
conceptions; that they recognise a certain fact, but are incapable of
applying the fact to another case. I am almost convinced that some birds
are capable of logical actions under circumstances absolutely new to
them, and as a bright and shining affirmation quote "Baal Burra."
Beautiful in appearance, for it was what is generally known as a blue
mountain parrot (red-collared lorikeet), its cleverness and affectionate
nature were far more engaging than all the gay feathers. It came as the
gift of a human derelict, who knew how to gain the confidence of dumb
creatures, though society made of him an Ishmaelite. Vivacious, noisy,
loving the nectar of flowers and the juices of fruits, Baal Burra was
phenomenal in many winsome ways, but in a spirit of rare self denial
I refrain from the pleasure of chronicling some of them in order to
give place to instance and proof of the reasoning powers of an
astonishingly high order.
Are apologies to be offered, too, for the homeliness of the example--its
unrelieved domesticity? I must begin at the very beginning lest some
necessary point be lost, and the beginning is porridge! A small portion
was invariably left for Baal Burra. On the morning of this strange
history a miniature lagoon, irregular in shape, of porridge and milk had
settled in the very centre of the dry desert of plate. In response to
customary summons to breakfast, Baal Burra skipped along the veranda. It
was a daily incident, and no one took particular notice until unusual
exclamations on the part of the bird denoted something extraordinary. By
circumnavigating the plate and at the same time stretching its neck to
the utmost it had contrived to convert the shapeless lagoon into a
perfectly symmetrical pond just out of the reach of the stubby tongue.
Hence the scolding. Three witnesses--each ardently on the side of the
bird--watched intently. Decently mannered, it refused to clamber on to the
edge of the plate, for it was ever averse from defilement of food. The
tit-bit was just beyond avaricious exertions--just at that tantalising
distance and just so irresistibly desirable as might be directly
stimulative of original enterprise towards acquirement.
The chatter and abuse continued for a couple of minutes. Then the bird
stood still while seeming to reflect, with wise head askew after the
manner of other thinkers. Hurrying, to its playthings--which happened to
be at the far end of the veranda--it selected a matchbox, dragged it
clatteringly along, ranged it precisely close to the plate, mounted it,
and from the extra elevation sipped the last drop with a chuckle of
content. That the bird on deliberation conceived the scheme for
over-reaching the coveted food I have not the slightest doubt.
Baal Burra bestowed frank friendship on a fat, good-humoured, yellow cat,
fond of luxury and ease during the day, a "rake-helly" prowler at
night. Into Sultan's fur Baal Burra would burrow, not without occasional
result, if the upbraiding tongue was to be believed. Baal Burra would
fill its lower mandible with water from a drinking dish and tip it neatly
into the cat's ear, and scream with delight as Sultan shook his sleepy
head. To dip the tip of the cat's tail into the water and mimic the
scrubbing of the floor was an everyday pastime. In addition to being an
engineer and a comedian the bird was also a high tragedian. In the cool
of the evening upon the going down of the sun the cat and the bird would
set out together to the accustomed stage. Baal Burra burrowing through
the long grass, painfully slow and cheeping plaintively, while Sultan
stalked ahead mewing encouragingly. The tragedy, which was in one act,
was repeated so often that each became confidently proficient, while the
setting--free from the constraints of space--helped towards that degree of
deception which is the highest form of art. Often we feared lest Sultan,
carried away by enrapt enthusiasm, would unwittingly sustain his part
even to the lamentable though natural DÉNOUEMENT. Baal Burra was, of'
course, the engaging and guileless victim, while Sultan, with triumphant
realism, rehearsed a scene ruthlessly materialised elsewhere.
Climbing into a low-growing bush, Baal Burra would become preoccupied,
innocently absorbed in an inspection of the young shoots and tender
leaves which it seemed to caress. Assuming a ferocious mien, Sultan
approached soliloquising, no doubt, "Ah, here is another silly wild-fowl!
Come, let me indulge my bloodthirstiness!" His eyes glittered as he
crouched, his tail thickened and swayed, his ears were depressed, his
whiskers and nose twitched, his jaws worked, his claws were unsheathed
and sheathed spasmodically as he crept stealthily towards the apparently
unconscious bird. After two or three preliminary feints for the perfect
adjustment of his faculties and pose, he bounded into the air with
distended talons well over his screeching playmate. The scene would be
rehearsed several times before Sultan, tired of mummery and eager for
actualities, slunk yawling into the bush, while Baal Burra, whimpering in
the dusk, waddled home to be caged.
Towards the further justification of the argument two cases in which
scrub fowl (MEGAPODIUS DUPERREYI TUMULUS) are concerned may be cited.
Being a previously recorded fact, the first is excusable only on the
grounds of its applicability to a debatable point.
1. On a remote spot in a very rough and rugged locality, hemmed in by
immense blocks of granite, is a large incubating mound. Save at one point
it is encompassed by rocks, but the opening does not grant facilities
for the accumulation of vegetable debris, yet the mound continually
increases in dimensions. At first glance there seems no means by which
such a large heap could have been accumulated for the birds do not carry
their materials, but kick and scratch them to the site. A hasty survey
shows that the birds have taken advantage of the junction of two
impending rocks which form a fortuitous shoot down which to send the
rubbish with the least possible exertion on their part. The shoot is
always in use, for the efficacy of the mound depends upon the heat
generated by actually decaying vegetation. Did the birds think out this
simple labour-saving method before deciding on the site for the mound, or
was it a gracious afterthought--one of those automatic impulses by which
Nature confronts difficulties?
2. As I wandered on the hilltops far from home I was astonished when Tom,
the cutest of black boys, dropped on his knees to investigate a crevice
between two horizontal slabs of granite filled with dead leaves and loam.
The spot, bare of grass, was about twenty yards from the edge of a fairly
thick, low-growing scrub where scrub fowls are plentiful. I was inclined
to smile when he said, "Might be hegg belonga scrub hen sit down!" He
scooped out some of the rubbish--the crevice was so narrow that it barely
admitted his arm--and finally dug a hole with his fingers fully fourteen
inches deep, revealing an egg, pink with freshness.
A more unlikely spot for a scrub fowl to lay, could hardly be imagined.
There was no mound, the crevice being merely filled flush, and the
vegetable rubbish packed between the flat rocks did not appear to be
sufficient in quantity to generate in its decay the temperature necessary
to bring about incubation. Yet the egg was warm, and upon reflecting that
the sun's rays keep the granite slabs in the locality hot during the day,
so hot, indeed, that there is no sitting down on them with comfort, I
perceived that here was evidence on which to maintain an argument of rare
sagacity on the part of the bird, and that the hypothesis might be thus
stated: This cool-footed cultivator of the jungle floor had during the
casual rambling on sunlit spaces become conscious of the heat of the
rocks. Being impressed, she surveyed the locality, and of her deliberate
purpose selected a spot for the completion of her next ensuing maternal
duties which, while it scandalised the traditions of her tribe, presented
unrealised facilities.
This was a natural incubator, certainly, but superior to those in common
use in that the solar heat stored by the stone during the day rendered
superfluous any large accumulation of vegetable matter. Surely it is but
a short and easy step from the perception of solar heat to the conception
that such heat would assist in the incubation of eggs. None but a
mound-builder who, of course, must have general knowledge on the subject
of temperatures and the maintenance thereof, could conceive that these
heated rocks would obviate the labour of raking together a mass of
rubbish. Further, her inherent perception that moist heat due to the
fermentation was vital towards the fulfilment of her hopes of posterity
would avert the blunder of trusting to the dry rocks alone. The hot rocks
and a small quantity of decaying leaves stood in her case for a huge
mound, innocent of extraneous heat. Having, therefore more time to
scratch for her living, she would naturally become a more robust bird,
more attractive to the males, and the better qualified to transmit her
exceptional mental qualities to her more numerous offspring.
These are the bare facts. Let those who believe that birds are capable of
taking the step from the fact to the principle continue the trains of
thought into which they inevitably lead. Will this particular scrub fowl
by force of her accidental discovery start a revolutionary change in the
life-history of mound-builders generally? Or will the bird----? But there
are the facts to conjure or to play with.