Instinct and Reason--Tailor Birds and Grosbeaks--The White Ant--Black
Ants at War--Wanderoo Monkeys--Habits of Elephants--Elephants in the
Lake--Herd of Elephants Bathing--Elephant-shooting--The Rencontre--The
Charge--Caught by the Tail--Horse Gored by a Buffalo--Sagacity of
Dogs--"Bluebeard"--His Hunt--A True Hound.
There can be no doubt that man is not the only animal endowed with
reasoning powers: he possesses that faculty to an immense extent, but
although the amount of the same power possessed by animals may be
infinitely small, nevertheless it is their share of reason, which they
occasionally use apart from mere instinct.
Although instinct and reason appear to be closely allied, they are
easily separated and defined.
Instinct is the faculty with which Nature has endowed all animals for
the preservation and continuation of their own species. This is
accordingly exhibited in various features, as circumstances may call
forth the operation of the power; but so wonderful are the attributes
of Nature that the details of her arrangements throughout the animal
and insect creation give to every class an amount of sense which in
many instances surmounts the narrow bounds of simple instinct.
The great characteristic of sheer instinct is its want of progression;
it never increases, never improves. It is possessed now in the
nineteenth century by every race of living creatures in no larger
proportion than was bestowed upon them at the creation.
In general, knowledge increases like a rolling snowball; a certain
amount forms a base for extra improvement, and upon successive
foundations of increasing altitude the eminence has been attained of
the present era. This is the effect of "reason;" but "instinct,"
although beautiful in its original construction, remains, like the
blossom of a tree, ever the same--a limited effect produced by a given
cause; an unchangeable law of Nature that certain living beings shall
perform certain functions which require a certain amount of
intelligence; this amount is supplied by Nature for the performance of
the duties required; this is instinct.
Thus, according to the requirements necessitated by the habits of
certain living creatures to an equivalent amount is their share of
instinct. Reason differs from instinct as combining the effects of
thought and reflection; this being a proof of consideration, while
instinct is simply a direct emanation from the brain, confined to an
impulse.
In our observations of Nature, especially in tropical countries, we see
numberless exemplifications of these powers, in some of which the
efforts of common instinct halt upon the extreme boundary and have
almost a tinge of reason.
What can be more curious than the nest of the tailor-bird--a selection
of tough leaves neatly sewn one over the other to form a waterproof
exterior to the comfortable little dwelling within? Where does the
needle and thread come from? The first is the delicate bill of the
bird itself, and the latter is the strong fibre of the bark of a tree,
with which the bird sews every leaf, lapping one over the other in the
same manner that slates are laid upon a roof.
Nevertheless this is simple instinct; the tailor-bird in the days of
Adam constructed her nest in a similar manner, which will be continued
without improvement till the end of time.
The grosbeak almost rivals the tailor-bird in the beautiful formation
of its nest. These birds build in company, twenty or thirty nests
being common upon one tree. Their apparent intention in the peculiar
construction of their nests is to avoid the attacks of snakes and
lizards. These nests are about two feet long, composed of beautifully
woven grass, shaped like an elongated pear. They are attached like
fruit to the extreme end of a stalk or branch, from which they wave to
and fro in the wind, as though hung out to dry. The bird enters at a
funnel-like aperture in the bottom, and by this arrangement the young
are effectually protected from reptiles.
All nests, whether of birds or insects, are particularly interesting,
as they explain the domestic habits of the occupants; but, however
wonderful the arrangement and the beauty of the work as exhibited among
birds, bees, wasps, etc., still it is the simple effect of instinct on
the principle that they never vary.
The white ant--that grand destroyer of all timber--always works under
cover; he builds as he progresses in his work of destruction, and runs
a long gallery of fine clay in the direction of his operations; beneath
this his devastation proceeds until he has penetrated to the interior
of the beam, the centre of which he entirely demolishes, leaving a thin
shell in the form of the original log encrusted over the exterior with
numerous galleries.
There is less interest in the habits of these destructive wretches than
in all other of the ant tribe; they build stupendous nests, it is true,
but their interior economy is less active and thrifty than that of many
other species of ants, among which there is a greater appearance of the
display of reasoning powers than in most animals of a superior class.
On a fine sunny morning it is not uncommon, to see ants busily engaged
in bringing out all the eggs from the nest and laying them in the sun
until they become thoroughly warmed, after which they carry them all
back again and lay them in their respective places. This looks very
like a power of reasoning, as it is decidedly beyond instinct. If they
were to carry out the eggs every morning, wet or dry, it would be an
effort of instinct to the detriment of the eggs; but as the weather is
uncertain, it is an effort of reason on the part of the ants to bring
out the eggs to the sun, especially as it is not an every-day
occurrence, even in fine weather.
In Mauritius, the negroes have a custom of turning the reasoning powers
of the large black ant to advantage.
White ants are frequently seen passing in and out of a small hole from
underneath a building, in which case their ravages could only be
prevented by taking up the flooring and destroying the nest.
The negroes avoid this by their knowledge of the habits of the black
ant, who is a sworn enemy to the white.
They accordingly pour a little treacle on the ground within a yard of
the hole occupied by the white ants. The smell of the treacle shortly
attracts some of the black species, who, on their arrival are not long
in observing their old enemies passing in and out of the hole. Some of
them leave the treacle; these are evidently messengers, as in the
course of the day a whole army of black ants will be seen advancing, in
a narrow line of many yards in length, to storm the stronghold of the
white ants. They enter the hole, and they destroy every white ant in
the building. Resistance there can be none, as the plethoric,
slow-going white ant is as a mouse to a cat in the encounter with his
active enemy, added to which the black ant is furnished with a most
venomous sting, in addition to a powerful pair of mandibles. I have
seen the black ants returning from their work of destruction, each
carrying a slaughtered white ant in his mouth, which he devours at
leisure. This is again a decided effort of reason, as the black ant
arrives at the treacle without a thought of the white ant in his mind,
but, upon seeing his antagonist, he despatches messengers for
reinforcements, who eventually bring up the army to the "rendezvous."
Numerous instances might be cited of the presence of reasoning powers
among the insect classes, but this faculty becomes of increased
interest when seen in the larger animals.
Education is both a proof and a promoter of reason in all animals.
This removes them from their natural or instinctive position, and
brings forth the full development of the mental powers. This is
exhibited in the performance of well-trained dogs, especially among
pointers and setters. Again, in the feats performed by educated
animals in the circus, where the elephant has lately endeavored to
prove a want of common sense by standing on his head. Nevertheless,
however absurd the trick, which man may teach the animal to perform,
the very fact of their performance substantiates an amount of reason in
the animal.
Monkeys, elephants and dogs are naturally endowed with a larger share
of the reasoning power than other animals, which is frequently
increased to a wonderful extent by education. The former, even in
their wild state, are so little inferior to some natives, either in
their habits or appearance, that I should feel some reluctance in
denying them an almost equal share of reason; the want Of speech
certainly places them below the Veddahs, but the monkeys, on the other
hand, might assert a superiority by a show of tails.
Monkeys vary in intelligence according to their species, and may be
taught to do almost anything. There are several varieties in Ceylon,
among which the great black wanderoo, with white whiskers, is the
nearest in appearance to the human race. This monkey stands upward of
three feet high, and weighs about eighty pounds. He has immense
muscular power, and he has also a great peculiarity in the formation of
the skull, which is closely allied to that of a human being, the lower
jaw and the upper being in a straight line with the forehead. In
monkeys the jaws usually project. This species exists in most parts of
Ceylon, but I have seen it of a larger size at Newera Ellia thin in any
of the low-country districts.
Elephants are proverbially sagacious, both in their wild state and when
domesticated. I have previously described the building of a dam by a
tame elephant, which was an exhibition of reason hardly to be expected
in any animal. They are likewise wonderfully sagacious in a wild state
in preserving themselves from accidents, to which, from their bulk and
immense weight, they would be particularly liable, such as the
crumbling of the verge of a precipice, the insecurity of a bridge or
the suffocating depth of mud in a lake.
It is the popular opinion, and I have seen it expressed in many works,
that the elephant shuns rough and rocky ground, over which he moves
with difficulty, and that he delights in level plains, etc., etc. This
may be the case in Africa, where his favorite food, the mimosa, grows
upon the plain, but in Ceylon it is directly the contrary. In this
country the elephant delights in the most rugged localities; he rambles
about rocky hills and mountains with a nimbleness that no one can
understand without personal experience. So partial are elephants to
rocky and uneven ground that should the ruins of a mountain exist in
rugged fragments along a plain of low, thorny jungle, five chances to
one would be in favor of tracking the herd to this very spot, where
they would most likely be found, standing among the alleys roamed by
the fragments heaped around them. It is surprising to witness the
dexterity of elephants in traversing ground over which a man can pass
with difficulty. I have seen places on the mountains in the
neighborhood of Newera Ellia bearing the unmistakable marks of
elephants where I could not have conceived it possible for such an
animal to stand. On the precipitous sides of jungle-covered mountains,
where the ground is so steep that a man is forced to cling to the
underwood for support, the elephants still plough their irresistible
course. In descending or ascending these places, the elephant a always
describes a zigzag, and thus lessens the abruptness of the inclination.
Their immense weight acting on their broad feet, bordered by sharp
horny toes, cuts away the side of the hill at every stride and forms a
level step; thus they are enabled to skirt the sides of precipitous
hills and banks with comparative case. The trunk is the wonderful
monitor of all danger to an elephant, from whatever cause it may
proceed. This may arise from the approach of man or from the character
of the country; in either case the trunk exerts its power; in one by
the acute sense of smell, in the other by the combination of the sense
of scent and touch. In dense jungles, where the elephant cannot see a
yard before him, the sensitive trunk feels the hidden way, and when the
roaring of waterfalls admonishes him of the presence of ravines and
precipices, the never-failing trunk lowered upon the around keeps him
advised of every inch of his path.
Nothing is more difficult than to induce a tame elephant to cross a
bridge which his sagacity assures him is insecure; he will sound it
with his trunk and press upon it with one foot, but he will not trust
his weight if he can perceive the slightest vibration.
Their power of determining whether bogs or the mud at the bottom of
tanks are deep or shallow is beyond my comprehension. Although I have
seen elephants in nearly every position, I have never seen one
inextricably fixed in a swamp. This is the more extraordinary as their
habits induce them to frequent the most extensive morasses, deep lakes,
muddy tanks and estuaries, and yet I have never seen even a young one
get into a scrape by being overwhelmed. There appears to be a natural
instinct which warns them in their choice of ground, the same as that
which influences the buffalo, and in like manner guides him through his
swampy haunts.
It is a grand sight to see a large herd of elephants feeding in a fine
lake in broad daylight. This is seldom witnessed in these days, as the
number of guns have so disturbed the elephants in Ceylon that they
rarely come out to drink until late in the evening or during the night;
but some time ago I had a fine view of a grand herd in a lake in the
middle of the day.
I was out shooting with a great friend of mine, who is a
brother-in-arms against the game of Ceylon, and than whom a better
sportsman does not breathe, and we had arrived at a wild and miserable
place while en route home after a jungle trip. Neither of us was
feeling well; we had been for some weeks in the most unhealthy part of
the country, and I was just recovering from a touch of dysentery:
altogether, we were looking forward with pleasure to our return to
comfortable quarters, and for the time we were tired of jungle life.
However, we arrived at a little village about sixty miles south of
Batticaloa, called "Gollagangwelléwevé" (pronunciation requires
practice), and a very long name it was for so small a place; but the
natives insisted that a great number of elephants were in the
neighborhood.
They also declared that the elephants infested the neighboring tank
even during the forenoon, and that they nightly destroyed their
embankment, and would not be driven away, as there was not a single gun
possessed by the village with which to scare them. This looked all
right; so we loaded the guns and started without loss of time, as it
was then one P. M., and the natives described the tank as a mile
distant. Being perfectly conversant with the vague idea of space
described by a Cingalese mile, we mounted our horses, and, accompanied
by about five-and-twenty villagers, twenty of whom I wished at Jericho,
we started. By the by, I have quite forgotten to describe who "we"
are--F. H. Palliser, Esq., and myself.
Whether or not it was because I did not feel in brisk health, I do not
know, but somehow or other I had a presentiment that the natives had
misled us, and that we should not find the elephants in the tank, but
that, as usual, we should be led tip to some dense, thorny jungle, and
told that the elephants were somewhere in that direction. Not being
very sanguine, I had accordingly taken no trouble about my gun-bearers,
and I saw several of my rifles in the bands of the villagers, and only
one of my regular gun-bearers had followed me; the rest, having already
had a morning's march, were glad of an excuse to remain behind.
Our rate lay for about a quarter of a mile through deserted paddy-land
and low jungle, after which we entered fine open jungle and forest.
Unfortunately, the recent heavy rains bad filled the tank, which had
overflowed the broken dam and partially flooded the forest. This was in
all parts within two hundred yards from the dam a couple of feet deep
in water, with a proportionate amount of sticky mud beneath, and
through this we splashed until the dam appeared about fifty yards on
our right. It was a simple earthen mound, which rose about ten feet
from the level of the forest, and was studded with immense trees,
apparently the growth of ages. We knew that the tank lay on the
opposite side, but we continued our course parallel with the dam until
we bad ridden about a mile from the village, the natives, for a wonder,
having truly described the distance.
Here our guide, having motioned us to stop, ran quickly up the dam to
take a look out on the opposite side. He almost immediately beckoned
us to come up. This we did without loss of time, and knowing that the
game was in view, I ordered the horses to retire for about a quarter of
a mile.
On our arrival on the dam there was a fine sight. The lake was about
five miles round, and was quite full of water, the surface of which was
covered with a scant, but tall, rushy grass. In the lake, browsing
upon the grass, we counted twenty-three elephants, and there were many
little ones, no doubt, that we could not distinguish in such rank
vegetation. Five large elephants were not more than a hundred and
twenty paces distant; the remaining eighteen were in a long line about
a quarter of a mile from the shore, feeding in deep water.
We were well concealed by the various trees which grew upon the dam,
and we passed half an hour in watching the manoeuvres of the great
beasts as they bathed and sported in the cool water. However, this was
not elephant-shooting, and the question was, how to get at them? The
natives had no idea of the sport, as they seemed to think it very odd
that we did not fire at those within a hundred paces' distance. I now
regretted my absent gun-bearers, as I plainly saw that these village
people would be worse than useless.
We determined to take a stroll along the base of the dam to reconnoitre
the ground, as at present it seemed impossible to make an attack; and
even were the elephants within the forest, there appeared to be no
possibility of following them up through such deep water and heavy
ground with any chance of success. however, they were not in the
forest, being safe, belly and shoulder deep, in the tank.
We strolled through mud and water thigh-deep for a few hundred paces,
when we suddenly came upon the spot where in ages past the old dam had
been carried away. Here the natives had formed a mud embankment
strengthened by sticks and wattles. Poor fellows! we were not
surprised at their wishing the elephants destroyed; the repair of their
fragile dam was now a daily occupation, for the elephants, as though
out of pure mischief, had chosen this spot as their thoroughfare to and
from the lake, and the dam was trodden down in all directions.
We found that the margin of the forest was everywhere flooded to a
width of about two hundred yards, after which it was tolerably dry; we
therefore returned to our former post.
It struck me that the only way to secure a shot at the herd would be to
employ a ruse, which I had once practiced successfully some years ago.
Accordingly we sent the greater part of the villagers for about a half
a mile along the edge of the lake, with orders to shout and make a
grand hullaballoo on arriving at their station. It seemed most
probable that on being disturbed the elephants would retreat to the
forest by their usual thoroughfare; we accordingly stood on the alert,
ready for a rush to any given point which the herd should attempt in
their retreat.
Some time passed in expectation, when a sudden yell broke from the far
point, as though twenty demons had cramp in the stomach. Gallant
fellows are the Cingalese at making a noise, and a grand effect this
had upon the elephants; up went tails and trunks, the whole herd closed
together and made a simultaneous rush for their old thoroughfare. Away
we skipped through the water, straight in shore through the forest,
until we reached the dry ground, when, turning sharp to our right, we
soon halted exactly opposite the point at which we knew the elephants
would enter the forest. This was grand excitement; we had a great start
of the herd, so that we had plenty of time to arrange gun-bearers and
take our position for the rencontre.
In the mean time, the roar of water caused by the rapid passage of so
many large animals approached nearer and nearer. Palliser and I had
taken splendid positions, so as to command either side of the herd on
their arrival, with our gun-bearers squatted around us behind our
respective trees, while the non-sporting village followers, who now
began to think the matter rather serious and totally devoid of fun,
scrambled up various large trees with ape-like activity.
A few minutes of glorious suspense, and the grand crash and roar of
broken water approached close at hand, and we distinguished the mighty
phalanx, headed by the largest elephants, bearing down exactly upon us,
and not a hundred yards distant. Here was luck! There was a grim and
very murderous smile of satisfaction on either countenance as we
quietly cocked the rifles and awaited the onset: it was our intention
to let half the herd pass us before we opened upon them, as we should
then be in the very centre of the mass, and he able to get good and
rapid shooting.
On came the herd in gallant style, throwing the spray from the muddy
water, and keeping a direct line for our concealed position. They were
within twenty yards, and we were still undiscovered, when those
rascally villagers, who had already taken to the trees, scrambled still
higher in their fright at the close approach of the elephants, and by
this movement they gave immediate alarm to the elders of the herd.
Round went the colossal heads; right about was the word, and away
dashed the whole herd back toward the tank. In the same instant we
made a rush in among them, and I floored one of the big leaders by a
shot behind the ear, and immediately after, as bad luck would have it,
Palliser and I both took the same bird, and down went another to the
joint shots. Palliser then got another shot and bagged one more, when
the herd pushed straight out to the deep lake, with the exception of a
few elephants, who turned to the right; after which Palliser hurried
through the mud and water, while I put on all steam in chase of the
main body of the herd. It is astonishing to what an amount a man can
get up this said steam in such a pitch of excitement. However, it was
of no use in this case, as I was soon hip-deep in water, and there was
an end to all pursuit in that direction.
It immediately struck me that the elephants would again retreat to some
other part of the forest after having made a circuit in the tank. I
accordingly waded back at my best speed to terra firma, and then
striking off to my right, I ran along parallel to the water for about
half a mile, fully expecting to meet the herd once more on their
entrance to the jungle. It was now that I deplored the absence of my
regular gun-bearers; the village people had no taste for this gigantic
scale of amusement, and the men who carried my guns would not keep up;
Fortunately, Carrasi, the best gun-bearer, was there, and he had taken
another loaded rifle, after handing me that which he had carried at the
onset. I waited a few moments for the lagging men, and succeeded in
getting them well together just is I heard the rush of water, as the
elephants were again entering the jungle, not far in advance of the
spot upon which I stood.
This time they were sharp on the qui vive, and the bulls, being well to
the front, were keeping a bright look-out. It was in vain that I
endeavored to conceal myself until the herd had got well into the
forest; the gun-bearers behind me did not take the same precaution, and
the leading elephants both saw and winded us when at a hundred paces
distant. This time, however, they were determined to push on for a
piece of thicker jungle, which they knew lay in this direction, and
upon seeing me running toward them, they did not turn back to the lake,
but slightly altered their course in an oblique direction, still
continuing to push on through the forest, while I was approaching at
right angles with the herd.
Hallooing and screaming at them with all my might to tease some of the
old bulls into a charge, I ran at top speed through the fine open
forest, and soon got among a whole crowd of half-grown elephants, at
which I would not fire; there were a lot of fine beasts pushing along
in the front, and toward these I ran as hard as I could go.
Unfortunately, the herd seeing me so near and gaining upon them, took
to the ruse of a beaten fleet and scattered in all directions; but I
kept a few big fellows in view, who were still pretty well together,
and managed to overtake the rearmost and knock him over. Up went the
tail and trunk of one of the leading bulls at the report of the shot,
and trumpeting shrilly, he ran first to one side, then to the other,
with his ears cocked and sharply turning his head to either side. I
knew this fellow had his monkey up, and that a little teasing would
bring him round for a charge. I therefore redoubled my shouts and
yells and kept on in full chase, as the elephants were straining every
nerve to reached a piece of thick jungle within a couple of hundred
paces.
I could not go any faster, and I saw that the herd, which was thirty or
forty yards ahead of me, would gain the jungle before I could overtake
them, as they were going at a slapping pace and I was tolerably blown
with a long run at full speed, part of which had been through deep mud
and water. But I still teased the bull, who was now in such an excited
state that I felt convinced he would turn to charge.
The leading elephants rushed into the thick jungle, closely followed by
the others, and, to my astonishment, my excited friend, who had lagged
to the rear, followed their example. But it was only for a few
seconds, for, on entering the thick bushes, he wheeled sharp round and
came rushing out in full charge. This was very plucky, but very
foolish, as his retreat was secured when in the thick jungle, and yet
he courted further battle. This he soon had enough of, as I bagged him
in his onset with my remaining barrel by the forehead shot.
I now heard a tremendous roaring, of elephants behind me, as though
another section was coming in from the tank; this I hoped to meet. I
therefore reloaded the empty rifles as quickly as possible and ran
toward the spot. The roaring still continued and was apparently almost
stationary; and what was my disappointment, on arrival, to find, in
place of the expected herd, a young elephant of about four feet high,
who, had missed the main body in the retreat and was now roaring for
his departed friends! These young things are excessively foolhardy and
willful, and he charged me the moment I arrived. As I laid the rifle
upon the ground instead of firing at him, the rascally gunbearers, with
the exception of Carrasi, threw down the rifles and ran up the trees
like so many monkeys, just as I had jumped on one side and caught the
young elephant by the tail. He was far too strong for me to hold, and,
although I dug my heels into the ground and held on with all my might,
he fairly ran away with me through the forest. Carrasi now came to my
assistance and likewise held on by his tail; but away we went like the
tender to a steam-engine; wherever the elephant went there we were
dragged in company. Another man now came to the rescue; but his
assistance was not of the slightest rise, as the animal was so powerful
and of such weight that he could have run away with half a dozen of us
unless his legs were tied. Unfortunately we had no rope, or I could
have secured him immediately, and seeing that we had no power over him
whatever, I was obliged to run back for one of the guns to shoot him.
On my return it was laughable to see the pace at which he was running
away with the two men, who were holding on to his tail like grim death,
the elephant not having ceased roaring during the run. I accordingly
settled him, and returned to have a little conversation with the
rascals were still perched in the trees. I was extremely annoyed, as
these people, if they had possessed a grain of sense, might have tied
their long comboys (cotton cloths about eight feet long) together, and
we might have thus secured the elephant without difficulty by tying his
hind legs. It was a great loss, as he was so tame that he might have
been domesticated and driven to Newera Ellia without the slightest
trouble. All this was occasioned by the cowardice of these villainous
Cingalese, and upon my lecturing one fellow on his conduct he began to
laugh. This was too much for any person's patience, and I began to look
for a stick, which the fellow perceiving he immediately started off
through the forest like a deer. He could run faster than I could,
being naked and having the advantage of bare feet; but I knew I could
run him down in the course of time, especially as, being in a fright,
he would soon get blown. We had a most animated hunt through water,
mud, roots of trees, open forest and all kinds of ground, but I ran
into him at last in heavy ground, and I dare say he recollects the day
of the month.
In the mean time, Palliser had heard the roaring of the elephant,
followed by the screaming and yelling of the coolies, and succeeded by
a shot. Shortly after he heard the prolonged yells of the hunted
villager while he was hastening toward my direction. This combination
of sounds naturally led him to expect that some accident had occurred,
especially as some of the yells indicated that somebody had come to
grief. This caused him a very laborious run, and he arrived thoroughly
blown, and with a natural desire to kick the recreant villager who bad
caused the yells.
If the ground had been ever tolerably dry, we should have killed a
large number of elephants out of this herd; but, as it happened, in
such deep mud and water the elephants had it all their own way, and our
joint bag could not produce more than seven tails; however, this was
far more than I had expected when I first saw the herd in such a secure
position.
On our return to the village we found Palliser's horse terribly gored
by a buffalo, and we were obliged to leave him behind for some weeks;
fortunately, there was an extra pony, which served him as a mount home,
a distance of a hundred and fifty miles.
This has been a sad digression from our argument upon instinct and
reason, a most unreasonable departure from the subject; but this is my
great misfortune; so sure as I bring forward the name of an elephant,
the pen lays hold of some old story and runs madly away in a day's
shooting. I now have to speak of the reasoning powers of the canine
race, and I confess my weakness. I feel perfectly certain that the pen
will serve me the same trick, and that it will be plunging through a
day's hunting to prove the existence of reason in a hound and the want
of it in the writer. Thrash me, good critics; I deserve it; lay it on
with an unsparing thong. I am humiliated, but still willful; I know my
fault, but still continue it.
Let us think; what was the subject? Reason in dogs, to be sure. Well,
every one who has a dog must admit that he has a strong share of
reason; only observe him as he sits by your side and wistfully watches
the endless transit of piece after piece, bit after bit, as the fork is
conveying delicate morsels to your mouth. There is neither hope nor
despair exhibited in his countenance--he knows those pieces are not for
him. There is an expression of impatience about the eye as he scans
your features, which seems to say, "Greedy fellow! what, not one bit
for me?" Only cut a slice from the exterior of the joint--a piece that
he knows you will not eat--and watch, the change and eagerness of his
expression; he knows as well as you do that this is intended for
him--he has reasoned upon it.
This is the simple and every-day performance of a common house-dog.
Observe the pointers in a field of close-cut stubble--two well-broken,
reasonable old dogs. The birds are wild, and have been flushed several
times during the day, and the old dog has winded them now in this
close-cut stubble, from which he knows the covey will rise at a long
range. Watch his expression of intense and yet careful excitement, as
he draws upon his game, step by step, crouching close to the ground,
and occasionally moving his head slowly round to see if his master is
close up. Look at the bitch at the other end of the field, backing him
like a statue, while the old dog still creeps on. Not a step farther
will he move: his lower jaw trembles with excitement; the guns advance
to a line with his shoulder; up they rise, whiz-z-z-z-z-z-z!--bang!
bang! See how the excitement of the dog is calmed as he falls to the
down charge, and afterward with what pleasure he follows up and stands
to the dead birds. If this is not reason, there is no such thing in
existence.
Again, look at the sheep-dog. What can be more beautiful than to watch
the judgement displayed by these dogs in driving a large flock of
sheep? Then turn to the Mont St. Bernard dog and the Newfoundland, and
countless instances could be produced as proofs of their wonderful
share of reasoning power.
The different classes of hounds, being kept in kennels, do not exhibit
this power to the same amount as many others, as they are not
sufficiently domesticated, and their intercourse with man is confined
to the one particular branch of hunting; but in this pursuit they will
afford many striking proofs that they in like manner with their other
brethren, are not devoid of the reasoning power.
Poor old "Bluebeard!"--he had an almost human share of understanding,
but being simply a hound, this was confined to elk hunting; he was like
the foxhunter of the last century, whose ideas did not extend beyond
his sport; but in this he was perfect.
Bluebeard was a foxhound, bred at Newera Ellia, in 1847, by F. J.
Templer, Esq. He subsequently belonged to F. H. Palliser, Esq., who
kindly added him to my kennel.
He was a wonderful hound on a cold scent, and so thoroughly was he
versed in all the habits of an elk that he knew exactly where to look
for one. I am convinced that he knew the date of a track from its
appearance, as I have constantly seen him strove his nose into the deep
impression, to try for a scent when the track was some eight or ten
hours old.
It was a curious thing to watch his cleverness at finding on a patina.
In most of the plains in the neighborhood of Newera Ellia a small
stream flows through the centre. To this the elk, who are out feeding
in the night, are sure to repair at about four in the morning for their
last drink, and I usually try along the banks a little after daylight
for a find, where the scent is fresh and the tracks are distinctly
visible.
While every hound has been eagerly winding the scent upon the
circuitous route which the elk has made in grazing, Bluebeard would
never waste his time in attempting to follow the innumerable windings,
but, taking a fresh cast, he would invariably strike off to the jungle
and try along the edge, until he reached the spot at which the elk had
entered. At these times he committed the only fault which he possessed
(for an elk-hound); he would immediately open upon the scent, and, by
alarming the elk at too great a distance, would give him too long a
start. Nevertheless, he made up for this by his wonderful correctness
and knowledge of his game, and if the run was increased in length by
his early note, we nevertheless ran into our game at last.
Some years ago he met with an accident which partly deprived him of the
use of one of his bind legs; this made the poor old fellow very slow,
but it did not interfere with his finding and hunting, although the
rest of the pack would shoot ahead, and the elk was frequently brought
to bay and killed before old Bluebeard had finished his hunt; but he
was never thrown out, and was sure to come up at last; and if the pack
were at fault during the run, he was the hound to show them the right
road on his arrival.
I once saw an interesting proof of his reasoning powers during a long
and difficult hunt.
I was hunting for a few days at the Augora patinas, accompanied by
Palliser. These are about five hundred feet lower than Newera Ellia,
and are situated in the district of Dimboola. They are composed of
undulating knolls of fine grass, with a large and deep river flowing
through the centre. These patinas are surrounded by wooded hills of
good open jungle.
We had found upon the patina at break of day, and the whole pack had
gone off in full cry; but the whereabout was very uncertain, and having
long lost all sound of the hounds we wandered here and there to no
purpose. At length we separated, and took up our stations upon
different knolls to watch the patina and to listen.
The hill upon which I stood commanded an extensive view of the patina,
while the broad river flowed at the base, after its exit from the
jungle. I had been only a few minutes at my post when I observed, at
about six hundred yards distant, a strong ripple in the river like the
letter V, and it immediately struck me that an elk had come down the
river from the jungle and was swimming down the stream. This was soon
proved to be the case, as I saw the head of a doe elk in the acute
angle of the ripple.
I had the greyhounds with me, "Lucifer," "Lena," "Hecate" and "Bran,"
and I ran down the hill with these dogs, hoping to get them a view of
her as she landed on the patina. I had several bogs and hollows to
cross, and I accordingly lost sight of the elk; but upon arriving at
the spot where I imagined the elk would land, I saw her going off
across the patina, a quarter of a mile away. The greyhounds saw her,
and away they flew over the short grass, while the pack began to appear
from the jungle, having come down to the halloo that I had given on
first seeing the elk swimming down the river.
The elk seemed determined to give a beautiful course for, instead of
pushing straight for the jungle, she made a great circuit on the
patina, as though in the endeavor to make once more for the river. The
long-legged ones were going at a tremendous pace, and, being fresh,
they rapidly overhauled her; gradually the distance between them
diminished, and at length they had a fair course down a gentle
inclination which led toward the river. Here the greyhounds soon made
an end of the hunt; their game was within a hundred yards, going at top
speed: but it was all up with the elk; the pace was too good, and they
ran into her and pulled her down just as the other hounds had come down
upon my scent.
We were cutting up the elk, when we presently heard old Bluebeard's
voice far away in the jungle, and, thinking that he might perhaps be
running another elk, we ran to a hill which overlooked the river and
kept a bright look-out. We soon discovered that he was true upon the
same game, and we watched his plan of hunting, being anxious to see
whether he could hunt up an elk that had kept to water for so long a
time.
On his entrance to the patina by the river's bank he immediately took
to water and swam across the stream; here be carefully hunted the edge
for several hundred yards down the river, but, finding nothing, he
returned to the jungle at the point from which the river flowed. Here
he again took to water, and, swimming back to the bank from which he
had at first started, he landed and made a vain cast down the hollow.
Back he returned after his fruitless search, and once more he took to
water. I began to despair of the possibility of his finding; but the
true old bound was now swimming steadily down the stream, crossing and
recrossing from either bank, and still pursuing his course down the
river. At length he neared the spot where I knew that the elk had
landed, and we eagerly watched to see if he would pass the scent, as he
was now several yards from the bank. He was nearly abreast of the
spot, when he turned sharp in and landed in the exact place; his deep
and joyous note rung across the patinas, and away went the gallant old
hound in full cry upon the scent, while I could not help shouting,
"Hurrah for old Bluebeard!" In a few minutes he was by the side of the
dead elk--a specimen of a true hound, who certainly had exhibited a
large share of "reason."