SELBORNE, _Aug._ 15_th_, 1775.
Dear Sir,--There is a wonderful spirit of sociality in the brute
creation, independent of sexual attachment: the congregating of
gregarious birds in the winter is a remarkable instance.
Many horses, though quiet with company, will not stay one minute in a
field by themselves: the strongest fences cannot restrain them. My
neighbour's horse will not only not stay by himself abroad, but he will
not bear to be left alone in a strange stable without discovering the
utmost impatience, and endeavouring to break the rack and manger with his
fore feet. He has been known to leap out at a stable-window, through
which dung was thrown, after company; and yet in other respects is
remarkably quiet. Oxen and cows will not fatten by themselves; but will
neglect the finest pasture that is not recommended by society. It would
be needless to instance sheep, which constantly flock together.
But this propensity seems not to be confined to animals of the same
species; for we know a doe, still alive, that was brought up from a
little fawn with a dairy of cows; with them it goes a-field, and with
them it returns to the yard. The dogs of the house take no notice of
this deer, being used to her; but, if strange dogs come by, a chase
ensues; while the master smiles to see his favourite securely leading her
pursuers over hedge, or gate, or stile, till she returns to the cows,
who, with fierce lowings and menacing horns, drive the assailants quite
out of the pasture.
Even great disparity of kind and size does not always prevent social
advances and mutual fellowship. For a very intelligent and observant
person has assured me that, in the former part of his life, keeping but
one horse, he happened also on a time to have but one solitary hen, These
two incongruous animals spent much of their time together in a lonely
orchard, where they saw no creature but each other. By degrees an
apparent regard began to take place between these two sequestered
individuals. The fowl would approach the quadruped with notes of
complacency, rubbing herself gently against his legs; while the horse
would look down with satisfaction, and move with the greatest caution and
circumspection, lest he should trample on his diminutive companion. Thus,
by mutual good offices, each seemed to console the vacant hours of the
other: so that Milton, when he puts the following sentiment in the mouth
of Adam, seems to be somewhat mistaken:
"Much less can _bird_ with _beast_, or fish with fowl,
So well converse, nor with the ox the ape."