giving to others what belongs to themselves, and even manifesting a
generosity which would put human nature to the blush, so there are
animals which can cheat like accomplished swindlers. As all Cheatery
requires the use of the intellect, it is therefore evident that the
most intellectual animals will be the most accomplished cheats. Dogs
have shown themselves to be considerable adepts in cheating, and
this we would naturally expect. Some curious and rather ludicrous
instances of cheatery upon the part of the dog are noticed. We once
knew a pair of dogs, a spaniel and a pug, that were inmates of the
same house. They were very jealous of each other so far as the master
was concerned, and neither could endure to see the other caressed. It
happened that the spaniel was taken quite ill, and was in consequence
very much cared for and petted. His companion, seeing the attention and
sympathy that were bestowed upon him, pretended to be sick herself,
and, going to a corner of the room, lay down upon the floor and looked
the very picture of misery and distress. A cat and a dog, that for many
years were members of the writer’s family, had taken a fancy to the
same spot, a soft cushion at the head of a sofa. While they were the
best of friends, yet a difference of opinion would occasionally arise,
and a slight loss of temper would be the result. When the cat would be
in the possession of the cushion, the dog would torment her in every
possible way with the view of causing her to abandon the pet spot. He
would pull at the cushion, seeking to drag it to the floor, or, seizing
the occupant by the ear or tail, endeavor to dislodge her by force.
But the cat, seemingly unmindful of what was going on, and the very
impersonation of patience all the while, would refuse to give up so
comfortable a couch. At last the dog hit upon a _ruse_ which he knew
would bring the cat down from the sofa. He rushed out into the kitchen,
and began acting as though in pursuit of a mouse. He and puss had often
engaged in such diverting business. This was more than the latter could
stand. She was down from her cozy bed in an instant, and was soon by
the side of the dog. But as soon as puss, all ablaze with excitement,
had her head in a corner and was straining her eyes to get a glimpse of
the supposed mouse, the dog ran to the sofa at full speed, jumped on
the cushion, curled himself round, and was happy. Poor puss, perceiving
that the dog had left her, was not slow to discern that she had been
imposed upon by the latter, and that it was only a trick that had been
played upon her by her shrewd companion, that he might get possession
of the soft spot upon the sofa. She, however, bore it good-naturedly
and decorously, and was ever afterward on the alert for these little
tricks of her canine friend.
Birds can be as capable of cheating, not only each other, but other
animals. A crow, belonging to John Smedley, a resident of Lima, Pa.,
was an adept in the business. When dinner was preparing, he would fly
around the corner of the house, set up a terrific cawing as though
in great distress, and when the mistress of the house, with whom he
was a great favorite, would come out on a tour of investigation,
the rascally bird would elude her and manage to steal round to the
table in the opposite direction and seize what food suited him the
best, which he would carry to the top of the house, where he would
eat it at his leisure. No persuasions would induce him to come down,
for he knew that such action was a breach of the peace, and he was
fearful of the punishment, that of confinement to a cage, which would
follow. When, however, he felt assured that his mistress had forgiven
the wrong-doing, he would fly down to the porch, and do his utmost
to convince her that he was a well-meaning bird, and that he was
thoroughly ashamed of his actions. But there was one member of the
family that utterly detested the bird. It was the dog Rover. Many a
trick had the bird practised upon the latter, especially at meal time.
Poor Rover was not allowed to eat in peace. When he would be wholly
absorbed in his dinner, the crow would approach him in the rear,
give him a severe twirl of the tail, and then in a twinkling fly to
one side, looking the very picture of innocence. But ere the dog had
recovered his self-possession and was ready to resume his feeding
again, the bird had captured the daintiest morsel, and was off to the
tree-top. Discomfited and outwitted, the dog would rush to the base of
the tree, bark his growls of anger and defiance, while the crow would
look quizzically down from above, and chuckle with delight.
Many of my readers may, perhaps, remember the story of the two dogs
that used to hunt the hare in concert, the one starting the hare and
driving it toward the spot where his accomplice lay concealed. I recall
an instance where a somewhat similar arrangement was made, only the
two contracting parties, instead of being two dogs, were a dog and a
hawk, the latter making use of his wings in driving the prey out of the
copse into the open ground. Innumerous examples of such alliances are
known, and in all of them there is manifest the curious fact that two
animals can arrange a mode of cheating a third. One of the principal
stratagems used in war, that is the ambuscade, whereby the enemy is
induced to believe that danger is imminent in one direction, when it
really lies in the opposite and unsuspecting direction, is employed.
No one would admit that a general who contrived to draw the enemy into
an ambuscade acted by instinct. The act would be construed as proof of
the possession of reasoning powers surpassing those of the adversary.
And if this be the case with the man, why not with the dog, or with the
raven or hawk, when the deception is carried out by precisely the same
line of reasoning?
Beasts possess, in common with man, the sense of Humor. This is
developed in many ways. Generally it assumes the phase of teasing or
annoying others, and thus deriving pleasure or amusement from their
discomfort. Sometimes, both with man and beast, it takes the form of
bodily torture, the struggles of the victim being highly amusing to
the torturer. Civilized man has now learned to regard the infliction
of pain upon a fellow as anything but an amusement, and would rather
suffer the agony than inflict it upon another. But with the savage
it is otherwise, for there is no entertainment so fascinating as
the infliction of bodily pain upon a human being. Among our Indian
tribes, torture is a solemn usage of war, which every warrior expects
for himself if captured, and which he is certain to inflict upon any
prisoner whom he may happen to take. The tortures which he inflicts
are absolutely fiendish, and yet a whole tribe will assemble around
the stake, and gloat upon the agonies which are being borne by a
fellow-creature. Similarly the African savage inflicts the most
excruciating sufferings upon the man or woman accused of witchcraft,
employing means too horrible to be mentioned. But in all these cases
the cruelty seems to be in a great measure owing to obtuseness of
perception. Yet the savage who binds his victim to a stake, and
perforates the sensitive parts of his body with burning pine-splinters,
behaves very much like a child who amuses itself by catching flies,
pulling off their wings and legs, and watching their unavailing efforts
to escape.
Many years ago cockchafers were publicly sold in Paris for children
to torture to death. The amusement consisted in running a hooked pin
through the insect’s tail, fastening a thread thereto, and watching the
poor creature spin in the air. After the poor beetle was too enfeebled
to expand its wings, it was slowly dismembered, the child being greatly
amused at its endeavors to crawl, as leg after leg was pulled from the
body. A similar custom, though in a more cruel form, prevails in Italy,
the creatures which are tortured by way of sport being more capable of
feeling pain than are insects. Birds are employed in this country for
the amusement of children. A string is tied to the leg of the bird, and
the unfortunate creature, after its powers of flight are exhausted,
is generally plucked alive and dismembered. The idea of cruelty does
not seem to enter at all in these practices, but they are done from
the sheer incapacity of understanding that a bird or a beast can be
a fellow-creature. Italians are notorious for their cruel treatment
of animals, and if remonstrated with become very much astonished and
reply, “Non è Cristiano,” that is to say, “It is not a Christian.”
Englishmen have little to boast of on this score. Bear-baiting was
abolished by the Puritans, not because it gave pain to the bear, but
because it gave pleasure to the spectators. Even at the present day,
both in England and in this country, there is a latent hankering after
similar scenes, and dog-fighting, rat-killing and cock-fighting, even
though they are now contrary to law, are still practised in secret.
Similarly the sense of humor is developed in the lower animals by
causing pain or annoyance to some other creature, and the animal acts
in precisely the same manner as a savage or a child.
Sparrows, as might be expected from their character, will gratify their
feelings of aversion by banding together for the purpose of mobbing
some creature to which they have an objection. In Hardwicke’s _Science
Gossip_ for December, 1872, there is a short account of a number of
sparrows mobbing a cat. Evidently the cat had intended making a meal
on one of the birds, but was greatly mistaken, for the sparrows dashed
upon him so fiercely, that he soon turned tail and ran into the house,
one of the sparrows actually pursuing him into the house. The poor cat
ran up-stairs, and was found crouching in terror under one of the beds.
This happened in London, where the sparrows are less numerous now than
they used to be.
No bird of my knowledge possesses a larger amount of humor than the
crow. I have known him to feign an attack upon a distant part of a
field of newly-sprouted corn, which was being guarded by a farmer with
his gun. When the latter would be drawn to that part of the field where
the attack was to be made, the sagacious bird would manage to outwit
him, slip around to the other side, drop down into the field and obtain
a few tender sprouts before the farmer hardly knew what was going on.
But he was always up and away at the opportune moment, and, perched
upon a fence-rail, beyond the range of the gun, would enjoy one of his
rollicking cawing laughs at the farmer’s expense. Crows that are tame
have the sense of humor more keenly developed than their wild brethren
of the fields and the woods. I once knew a tame crow that took great
pleasure in annoying a dog that lived in the same family. Carlo, as the
dog was called, was never so contented as when allowed to sleep the
hours of the morning away, after a night’s carousal, in a quiet, sunny
spot in the backyard. When the dog had become fast wrapped in the arms
of the god of slumber, the crow would steal to his side, give his ear
a sharp pull, and when the dog would awake and look around the crow
would be busy in gleaning, the most unconcerned creature in the whole
yard. Again and again would she annoy the poor animal, and always with
the same evident sense of delight, which I could always read in the
mischievous twinkle that lurked in her eyes, till the dog, bewildered
and unable to account for such mysterious actions, would silently skulk
away to other parts, where he hoped to be free from all intrusion. Even
the mistress of the house was not exempt from her annoyance. She would
carry off everything she could lay hold of, and always hid them away in
one place, that is, in a large crevice on the top of the house between
the peak of the roof and the chimney. One day the mistress’s spectacles
disappeared. Search was instituted everywhere, but without effect. None
knew better than the bird what the trouble was. While the search was
going on, she busied herself in looking around, and seemed as desirous
of finding the missing glasses as any member of the household. The look
which the bird gave showed that she enjoyed the situation of affairs
immensely, and considered it a fine joke that she had played upon her
mistress. After a few days the lost spectacles were restored to their
accustomed place, but no one ever positively knew how they came thither.
Domestic birds, as a rule, are remarkable for the generosity which the
master-bird shows to his inferiors. He will scratch the ground, unearth
some food, and then, instead of eating it himself, will call some of
his favorites, and give them the delicacy for which he labored. But I
have met with a few cases where the cock scratched as usual, called his
wives, and, when they had gathered round him, ate the morsel himself.
It was but a practical joke that he had perpetrated upon them, and
that they felt it as such their looks only too strongly testified.
There was a relish of delight in it for the cock, for the cackle, which
he immediately gave, assured me of this fact as much as the laugh of a
man could have done who had played such a joke upon one of his fellows.
Parrots are much given to practical joking, after the ways of mankind.
A parrot, belonging to an aunt, had a bad habit of whistling for a dog,
and then enjoying the animal’s bewilderment and discomfiture. She would
call the cat, as her mistress was accustomed to do, and when puss would
come, expecting some dainty article of food, she would call out in her
severest tone, “Be off, you hussy!” and the cat would make all possible
speed for a place of security, greatly to the amusement of the parrot
from her perch in the cage. There have been known parrots that would
play practical jokes upon human beings, but dogs and cats seem to be
the principal victims of the parrot’s sense of humor.
Animals not only show their playfulness in such tricks as have been
mentioned, but many of them are able to appreciate and take part in
the games played by children. When I was a boy I knew a dog, a species
of greyhound, which was an accomplished player at the well-known game
called tag, or touch. Quite as much enthusiasm was displayed by the
animal as by any of the human players. He would dart away from the
boy who happened to be “touch” with an anxiety that almost appeared
terror. It was an impossibility to touch the clever canine player; but
he was a generous creature, with a strong sense of justice, and so,
when he thought that his turn ought to come, he would stand still and
wait quietly to be touched. His manner of touching his play-fellows was
always by grasping the end of their trousers with his teeth, and as it
was impossible for the boy to stop when so seized in full course, the
dog was often jerked along the ground for some little distance.
Hide-and-seek is a game which is often learned and enjoyed by many
animals. I have often been an interested spectator of the play in
which two dogs were the participants. It was as exciting as such a
diversion could possibly be between two children. For an hour at a time
I have watched the fun, and the players seemed not to abate the least
jot or tittle from their ardor and enthusiasm. They were apparently
as fresh then as at the beginning. In due time the game ceased as if
by mutual consent, but the animals did not seek some cool, quiet spot
for comfort and rest, but started off to the woods for some further
diversion, from which their voices were soon heard, telling that they
were in pursuit of a rabbit or the ignoble ground-hog.
We have far from exhausted the list of examples at hand to show that
the lower animals possess a sense of humor. But what use, it may be
asked, can the capacity of humor subserve in the next world? Much the
same, I presume, that it subserves in this. There are some in this
world in whom the sense of humor is absolutely wanting. Estimable as
they may be in character, they are just solemn prigs, and I should be
very sorry to resemble them in the world, whither, it is hoped, all
life tendeth.
Pride, Jealousy, Anger, Revenge and Tyranny, while not very pleasing
characteristics, belong, as such, to the immaterial, and not to the
material, part of man. That the lower animals possess these qualities
will be seen from what follows. Hence the inference to be drawn from
that fact must be quite obvious.
Taking these characteristics in order, Pride, or Self-esteem, is
developed as fully in many animals as in the proudest of the human
race. Most conspicuously is this shown in animals which herd together.
There is always one leader at the head, who will not permit any
movement to be made without his order, and who resents the least
interference with his authority. This is particularly the case with the
deer, the horse and the ox. Even when these animals are domesticated,
and the habits of their feral life have materially changed, the feeling
of pride exists to the fullest extent.
Whoever has carefully watched and studied the inhabitants of a
farm-yard cannot fail to have observed that the cows have their
laws of precedence and etiquette as clearly defined as those of any
European Court. Every cow knows her own place and keeps it. She will
never condescend to take a lower, nor would she be allowed to assume
a higher. A new-comer in a farm-yard has about as much chance of
approaching the rack at feeding-time as a new boy at school has of
getting near the fire on a cold winter day. But as the young calf
increases in growth, and is nearing maturity, she is allowed to mingle
with her companions on tolerably equal terms. Should, however, a
younger animal than herself be admitted, it is amusing to see with what
gratification she bullies the new-comer, and how much higher she ranks
in her own estimation when she finds she is no longer the junior.
But should the fates be propitious, and she should arrive at the
dignity of being senior cow, she never fails to assert that dignity
on every occasion. When the cattle are taken out of the yard to their
pasture in the morning, and when they are returned to it in the
evening, she will not allow any except herself to take the lead. An
instance is recorded where the man in charge of a herd of cows would
not permit the “ganger,” as the head cow is often called, to go out
first. The result was that she refused to go out at all. Therefore, to
get her to go out of the yard, the man had to drive all the other cows
back again, so that she might take her proper place at the head of the
herd.
Few people know much about the real disposition of the mule. Judging
from popular ideas respecting the animal, one would think that it had
no pride in its composition. It is in reality a very proud animal,
and fond of good society. One of his most striking characteristics is
his aversion to the ass, and the pride which he takes in his relation
to the horse. An ass would be hardly safe in a drove of mules, for he
would, in all probability, be kicked and lamed by his proud relatives;
whereas a horse, on the contrary, takes a distinguished position, the
mules not only crowding around him and following his movements, but
exhibiting a violent jealousy, each striving to get the nearest to
their distinguished relative.
[Illustration: EXHIBITION OF GRANDEUR.
Male Peacock in Presence of Some Barn-Yard Fowls.]
We have seen the pride of rank and love of precedence in cows, and the
pride of ancestry in mules. There is, however, a pride that takes the
form of sensitiveness to ridicule. Nothing is so galling to a proud man
as to find himself the object of ridicule. The same trait of character
is to be found in many animals, and especially in those that have been
domesticated, for it is in these that we have the most opportunities
for observation. All high-bred dogs are exceedingly sensitive to
ridicule. We knew of a cat that was quite conscious if spoken of in a
disparaging manner, and testified his disapprobation by arching his
tail, holding himself very stiff indeed, and marching slowly out of the
room.
There is, however, another form of pride which is often to be seen
among the lower animals, but more especially among birds notable for
gaudy or abundant plumage. This is the pride which manifests itself
in personal appearance. Vanity is the name which is currently applied
to this form of pride. Those who have observed a peacock in all the
glory of his starry train will recognize the intense pride he feels at
his own splendor. This display of his magnificent train is not for the
purpose of attracting the homage of his plainly-attired mates solely,
but seems to be intended to evoke the admiration of human beings as
well. Not even the homage of birds, whom he regards his inferiors, is
to be despised.
We have seen him, with his train fully spread, displaying his grandeur
around a dozen or more barn-yard fowls, and apparently as satisfied
with the effect he produced, as he stalked majestically among them,
as if he had been surrounded by his own kith and kin. Then there is
the turkey. No movements are more grotesque than his. See him as he
struts about in his nuptial plumage, and yet no bird, notwithstanding
the ludicrousness of his behavior, surveys himself with greater
complacency. The whidah-bird, or widow-bird, as it is often called,
exhibits this trait of character in its highest development. He is
wonderfully proud of his beautiful tail, and, as long as he wears it,
loses no opportunity of displaying it to every person who visits his
cage. But when the moulting season has arrived, and he has taken on the
plain, tailless attire of his mate, a change as great has come over
his manner, and, instead of exhibiting himself in all his pride and
glory, he mopes listlessly and stupidly about, and seemingly ashamed of
his mean condition. In all these instances the character of pride in
personal appearance is as strongly developed as it is possible for it
to be in any human being.