CHAPTER III

THE DISPOSITION TO DEFEND THE TERRITORY

In the previous chapter I endeavoured to show that each male establishes

a territory at the commencement of the breeding season, and there

isolates itself from members of its own sex. And further I gave my

reasons for believing that this particular mode of behaviour is

determined by the inherited nature of the bird, and that we are

justified in speaking of it as "a disposition to secure a territory"

because we can perceive its prospective value. But the act of

establishment is only one step towards "securing." By itself it can

achieve nothing; for any number of different individuals might fix upon

the same situation, and if there were nothing in the inherited

constitution of the bird to prevent this happening, where would be the

security, or how could any benefit accrue to the species?

In withdrawing from its companions in the spring, the male is breaking

with the past, and this action marks a definite change in its routine of

existence. But the change does not end in attempted isolation; it is

carried farther and extends to the innermost life and affects what,

humanly speaking, we should term its emotional nature, so that the bird

becomes openly hostile towards other males with whom previously it had

lived on amicable terms.

The seasonal organic condition is responsible for the functioning of the

disposition which results in this intolerance, just as it is for the

functioning of the disposition which leads to the establishment of the

territory; and the effect of these two dispositions is that a space of

ground is not only occupied but made secure from intrusion. The process

is a simple one. There is no reason to believe, there is no necessity to

believe, that any part of the procedure is conditioned by anticipatory

meaning; the behaviour is "instinctive" in Professor Lloyd Morgan's

definition of the word, since it is of a "specific congenital type,

dependent upon purely biological conditions, nowise guided by conscious

experience though affording data for the life of consciousness."

That the males of many animals are apt to become quarrelsome during the

mating period is notorious. Darwin collected a number of facts, many of

which related to birds, showing the nature and extent of the strife when

the sexual instinct dominated the situation. And pondering over these

facts, he deduced therefrom a "law of battle," which, he believed, bore

a direct relation to the possession of a female. And it must be admitted

that he had excellent ground for his conclusion in the fact not only

that the conflicts occur mainly during the pairing season, but that

the female is often a spectator and seems even to pair with the victor.

I accepted it, therefore, as the most reasonable interpretation of the

facts. But, as time passed by, incidents of a conflicting character led

me to think that after all there might be another solution of the

problem. And when it was no longer possible to doubt that there was a

widespread tendency to establish territories, it at once became manifest

that the battles might have an important part to play in the whole

scheme. But how was this to be proved? What sort of evidence could show

whether the proximate end for which the males were fighting had

reference to the female or to the territory? Clearly nothing but a

complete record of the whole series of events leading up to reproduction

could supply the necessary data upon which a decision might rest. In the

present chapter I shall give, in the first place, the reasons which lead

me to think that the origin of the fighting cannot be traced to the

female; afterwards, the evidence which seems to show that it must be

sought in the territory; and finally, I shall make a suggestion as to

the part the female may play in the whole scheme.

[Illustration: Male Blackbirds fighting for the possession of territory.

The bare skin on the crown of the defeated bird shows the nature of the

injuries from which it succumbed.

Emery Walker ph.sc.]

The facts upon which the "law of battle" was founded were ample to

establish the truth of its main doctrine. But the evidence upon which

the interpretation of the battles was based was somewhat superficial. It

was based mainly upon the general observation that one or more females

could frequently be observed to accompany the combatants; and if this

were the sole condition under which the fighting occurred, one must

admit that this view would have much to recommend it. But it is not

merely a question of males disputing in the presence of a female; for

males fight when no female is present, pair attacks pair, or a male may

even attack a female--in fact there is a complexity of strife which is

bewildering.

In attributing the rivalry to the presence of the female, it is assumed

that males are in a preponderance, and that consequently two or more are

always ready to compete for a mate. Her presence is presumably the

condition under which his pugnacious nature is rendered susceptible to

its appropriate stimulus, the stimulus being, of course, supplied by the

opponent. There would be nothing against this interpretation if it were

in accord with the facts; but it can, I think, be shown that the males

are just as pugnacious and the conflicts just as severe even when the

question of securing a mate is definitely excluded; and I shall now give

the evidence which has led me to this conclusion.

In the previous chapter we had occasion to refer to the difference in

the times of arrival of the male and female migrants, and we came to the

conclusion, it may be remembered, that this was a fact of some

importance, because it gave us a clue to the meaning of much that was

otherwise obscure in their behaviour. But it is also of importance in

connection with the particular aspect of the problem which we now have

in view, for if it can be shown that males, when they first reach their

breeding grounds, are even then intolerant of one another's presence, if

their actions and attitudes betray similar symptoms of quasi-conation,

if disputes are rife and the struggles of a kind to preclude all doubt

as to their reality, then it is manifest that in such cases their

intolerance cannot be due to the presence of the female.

Here, however, I must refer to a view which is held by some

psychologists, namely, that amongst the higher animals, even on the

occasion of the first performance of an instinctive act, there is some

vague awareness of the proximate end to be attained. Discussing the

nature of instincts, Dr M'Dougall[3] says, "Nor does our definition

insist, as some do, that the instinctive action is performed without

awareness of the end towards which it tends, for this, too, is not

essential; it may be, and in the case of the lower animals no doubt

often is, so performed, as also by the very young child, but in the case

of the higher animals some prevision of the immediate end, however

vague, probably accompanies an instinctive action that has often been

repeated." A similar view seems to be held by Dr Stout.[4] "As I have

already shown," he says, "animals in their instinctive actions do

actually behave from the outset as if they were continuously interested

in the development of what is for them one and the same situation or

course of events; they actually behave as if they were continuously

attentive, looking forward beyond the immediately present experience in

preparation for what is to come. They apparently watch, wait, search,

are on the alert. They also behave exactly as if they appreciated a

difference between relative success and failure, trying again when a

certain perceptible result is not attained and varying their procedure

in so far as it has been unsuccessful. All these characters are found in

the first nest-building of birds as well as in the second; they are

found also in courses of conduct which occur only once in the lifetime

of the animal." Both these writers would, I imagine, contend that, even

when a female is absent, the idea of the female, as the end in view

throughout, is present; and they would argue that the fact of her

absence during the fighting in no way disposes of the belief that she is

the condition under which the pugnacious instinct of the male is

rendered susceptible to stimulation. What reason is there to think that

this interpretation is applicable to the case under consideration? When

a female is present, we observe that the males are pugnacious, and, when

she is absent, that they still continue to be hostile--that is to say,

they behave _as if_ she were present. Now, as far as I can ascertain,

the "_as if_" is the only ground there is for supposing that the female

is represented in imaginal form--there is no evidence of the fact, if

fact it be. On the contrary, the behaviour of the male affords some

fairly conclusive evidence that no such image is the primary factor in

exciting the instinctive reaction. For if it be the actual presence of

the female, or, in the absence of such, a mental image, that renders the

pugnacious nature of the male responsive; provided the usual stimulus

were present, the instinct ought surely to respond, not only under one

particular circumstance, but under all circumstances. Yet, as we shall

presently see, a male is by no means consistently intolerant of other

males. It may be sociable at one moment or pugnacious at another, but

the pugnacity is always peculiar to a certain occasion--the occupation

of a territory. What shall we say then--that a mental image is a

situational item only when the territory is occupied? It may be so; it

may be that the fact of occupation gives rise to the mental image which,

in its turn, renders the fighting instinct explosive, which again

renders the possession of the territory secure. That such an

interpretation is possible we must all admit. But if it were true,

though it would not affect the main consideration, namely, whether the

fighting has reference to the possession of a particular female, or to

the protection of the territory, it would make further discussion as to

which of these is the condition of the fighting unprofitable, for each

would have its part to play in the process, the territory remaining,

however, the principal factor in the situation.

Now the difference in the times of arrival of the male and female

migrant varies in different species from a few days to a fortnight or

even more. It is most marked in those that return to their breeding

grounds early in the season, and the greater the margin of difference

the greater scope is there for observation. In my records for the past

twelve years, there are frequent references to these initial male

contests in the life of the Willow-Warbler and of the Chiffchaff; and in

the district which I have in mind, these two species arrive early in the

season, the males preceding the females by a week or even as much as a

fortnight. Suppose, then, that two Chiffchaffs establish themselves in

adjoining territories; or suppose that a male settles in a territory

already occupied; what is the result? Well, scenes of hostility soon

become apparent; as the birds approach one another they become more and

more restive, their song ceases, they no longer search for food in the

usual methodical manner, but instead their movements are hurried and

their call-notes are uttered rapidly--all of which betrays a heightened

emotional tone. Then the climax is reached, there is a momentary

fluttering of tiny wings, a clicking of bills, and for the time being

that may be all. But unless one or other of the combatants retires, this

scene may be repeated many times in the course of a few hours, and

repeated with varying degrees of severity. Yet the fighting, even in the

most extreme form, when the birds locked together fall slowly to the

ground, is seldom of an impressive kind, and one has to bear in mind the

capabilities of the actors, remembering that the most severe struggle

might readily be interpreted as a game if it were not for certain

symptoms which reveal its inner nature.

The males of many other migrants can frequently be observed to fight

when there was every reason to believe that females had still to arrive.

The Blackcap is notoriously pugnacious, but not more so than the

Marsh-Warbler or the Whinchat. Here in Worcestershire, the _Arundo

phragmites_ grows mainly on certain sheets of water which are

comparatively few and far between, and the Reed-Warbler is consequently

restricted to isolated and more or less confined areas. The males arrive

early in May before the new growth of reeds has attained any

considerable height, and each one has its own position in the reed-bed,

sings there, and throughout the whole period of reproduction actively

resists intrusion on the part of other males. I have kept watch upon a

small area of reeds daily from the date of the first arrival; each

individual was known to me, and as the growing reeds were only a few

inches in height, a female could scarcely have escaped detection. Yet

time and again disputes arose, and males pursued and pecked one

another, striving to attain that isolation for which racial preparation

had fitted them.

But on account of their violence, or their novelty, or because the

absence of a female was beyond question, some battles stand out in one's

memory more prominently than others. An instance of this was a struggle

between two Whitethroats which happened in the latter part of April and

lasted for three successive days. The scene of its occurrence was more

or less the same on each occasion, and the area over which the birds

wandered was comparatively small. The fighting was characterised by

persistent effort and was of a most determined kind, and so engrossed

did the assailants become that they even fluttered to the ground at my

feet. No trace of a female was to be seen at any time during these three

days, nor, during the pauses in the conflict, was the emotional

behaviour of a kind which led me to suppose that a female was anywhere

in the vicinity. And, if she had been near, she must have made her

presence known, for the belief that she is a timid creature, skulking on

such occasions in the undergrowth, is by no means borne out by

experience.

Even more impressive was a battle between two male Cuckoos. It occurred

high up in the air above the tops of some tall elm-trees which roughly

marked the boundary line between their respective areas, and the actions

of the birds were plainly visible. At the moment of actual collision

the opponents were generally in a vertical position, and wings, feet,

and beaks were made use of in turn; one could plainly see them strike at

one another with their feet, and one could observe the open bill which

generally denotes exhaustion, but may of course have been due to anger,

or used as a means of producing terror. Yet no female appeared in the

locality until six days after the occurrence of this struggle--and

she certainly is not easily overlooked, for her note is unmistakable

even when the behaviour of the male does not betray her arrival.

[Illustration: Male Cuckoos fighting before the arrival of a female

Emery Walker ph.sc.]

That the actual presence of the respective females exercised any

influence on the course of these struggles is more than doubtful. Not

only did one fail to detect them, but one's failure to do so was

confirmed by the knowledge that they had not yet arrived in those

particular localities. Hence the fact of the male preceding the female

is a valuable aid to the interpretation of subsequent behaviour; and one

appreciates it the more after having experienced the difficulty of

deciding whether she is present during the conflicts between resident

males, for no matter how carefully we may observe the conditions which

lead up to, and which accompany, such conflicts, or how closely we may

scrutinise the surrounding trees, undergrowth, or ground, there always

remains the possibility that she may, after all, have been overlooked.

But this must not be taken to imply that in such cases direct

observation alone can lead to no serviceable result, or that the

evidence gained therefrom is worthless. Far from it. Failure to detect a

female is so very common an occurrence that, even if we lacked the

corroborative evidence supplied in the life of the migratory male, it

would still be unreasonable to suppose that it were solely due to

mistaken observation. We mark her absence during the conflicts between

the respective males of many common species--the Finches, Buntings, and

Thrushes that occupy their territories early in the season when the

hedgerows and trees are still bare; but more frequently amongst those

that inhabit open ground, because the movements of the birds are there

more accessible to observation. For instance, half a dozen or more

Lapwings can be kept in view at the same time, and as they stand at dawn

in solitary state, keeping watch upon their respective territories, they

are conspicuous objects on the short, frosted grass; no stranger can

enter the arena without the observer being aware of it, no commotion can

occur but one detects it, no movement however small need be missed. And

so they fight, in a manner which leaves no doubt as to the reality of

the struggle, when their prospective mates are absent not only from the

particular territories in which the conflicts take place, but absent too

from those adjoining.

If the fact that males fight before they are paired and in the absence

of a female could be placed beyond all question, it would no longer be

possible to regard her possession as the end for which they are

contending, and consequently there would be no need to produce further

evidence. But the examples which I have given refer, of course, to only

a few migrants and a few residents--and moreover it must be admitted

that a female _is_ often conspicuous during the battles--so that by

themselves they must be regarded, and rightly so, as inconclusive. We

must therefore pass on to consider evidence of a somewhat different

character.

I spoke of the complexity of the strife. By this I mean that it is not

merely a matter of disputes between adjoining males, but that it is a

far more comprehensive business involving both sexes. Thus female fights

with female and pair with pair, or a male will attack a female, or,

again, a pair will combine against a single male or a single female. And

from all this complexity of strife we gain much valuable evidence in

regard to the question immediately before us. For when one pair attacks

another, or males that are definitely paired fight with one another, or

an unpaired male attacks either sex of a neighbouring pair

indiscriminately, there is surely little ground for supposing that the

possession of a mate is the reason of it all.

The battles between pairs of the same species are by no means uncommon.

Observe, for example, the central pair of three pairs of Reed-Buntings

occupying adjoining territories, and keep a daily record of the routine

of activity practised by both sexes during the early hours of the

morning; then, at the close of the season, summarise all the fighting

under different headings, and it will be found that the number of

occasions upon which the central pair attacked, or was attacked by,

neighbouring pairs will form a considerable portion of the whole.

Or watch the Moor-Hen, and for the purpose choose some sheet of water

large enough to accommodate three or more pairs, and so situated that

the birds can always be kept in view. Early in February the pool will be

haunted by numbers of individuals of both sexes, all swimming about

together, and, if the pool is surrounded by arable land, wandering over

that land subject to no territorial restrictions, apparently free to

seek food where they will. But as time goes by, their number gradually

decreases until a few pairs only remain, and these will occupy definite

areas. If careful watch is then kept and the relations of the pairs

closely studied, there will be no difficulty in observing the particular

kind of warfare to which I am alluding, and it will be noticed that the

encounters are of a particularly violent description. Thus two pairs

approach one another, and, when they meet, throw themselves upon their

backs, each bird striking at its adversary with its feet or seizing hold

of it with its beak; and though, in the commotion that ensues, it is

almost impossible to determine what exactly is happening, there is

reason to believe that the sexes attack one another indiscriminately.

A struggle between two pairs of Pied Wagtails is worth mentioning. It

impressed itself upon my memory because of the unusual vigour with which

it was conducted. The battle lasted for fifteen minutes or more, and

the four birds, collecting together, pursued and attacked one

another--at one moment in the air, at another upon the roof of a house

where they would alight and flutter about on the slates, uttering their

call-note without ceasing--until finally they disappeared from view,

still, however, continuing the struggle.

[Illustration: Two pairs of Pied Wagtails fighting in defence of their

territories.

Emery Walker ph.sc.]

Such is the nature of the warfare which prevails between neighbouring

pairs, and which can be observed in the life of many other species--the

Chaffinch, Stonechat, Blackbird, Partridge, Jay, to mention but a few.

The conflicts between males that are definitely paired are of such

common occurrence that it is scarcely necessary to mention specific

instances. But the occasions on which a male attacks either sex of a

neighbouring pair indiscriminately, or on which a pair combine to attack

a female, are less frequent.

Now if it be true that males fight for no other purpose than to gain

possession of a mate, what meaning are we to attach to the battles

between the pairs, or what explanation are we to give of the fact that

paired males are so frequently hostile? Those who hold this view will

probably argue thus: "The presence of the female is the condition under

which the pugnacious instinct of the male is rendered susceptible to

appropriate stimulation, and the stimulus is supplied by a rival male;

we admit that all the fighting which occurs after pairing has taken

place has nothing to do strictly speaking with gaining a mate, but,

inasmuch as the fact of possession is always liable to be

challenged--and no male can differentiate between a paired and an

unpaired intruder--we contend that it would add to the security of

possession if the pugnacious instinct remained susceptible to

stimulation so long as there were any possibility of challenge from an

unpaired male; and we think that the waste of energy involved in the

struggles between paired birds, and which we grant is purposeless, would

be more than balanced by the added security." This is a possible

explanation and requires consideration. It cannot account for all the

diverse ways in which the sexes are mixed up in the fighting--it cannot,

for instance, explain the fact that an unpaired male will attack either

sex of an adjoining pair indiscriminately--but nevertheless it appears

at first sight to be a reasonable explanation of some of them. We must

remember, however, that fighting continues throughout the whole period

of reproduction. Even after the discharge of the sexual function has

ceased, and the female is engaged in incubation or in tending her young,

the male is still intolerant of intruders; and it is difficult to

believe that, at so late a stage in the process, a female could be any

attraction sexually to an unpaired male. But apart from any theoretical

objection, there remains the fact--namely that there is no evidence

that a male, after having once paired, is liable to be robbed of its

mate. And in support of this fact I have only to state that I have met

with no single instance of failure to obtain and hold a mate when once a

territory had been secured. Bearing in mind then that both sexes

participate in the fighting, and that individuals of the opposite sex

frequently attack one another; that all such conflicts are characterised

by persistent effort, and that they are not limited to just the

particular period when the sexual instinct is dominant but continue

throughout the breeding season; bearing in mind that in at least one

form of this promiscuous warfare the influence of the female can be

definitely excluded, and that, in the remaining forms, the evidence

which is required to link them up with the biological end of securing

mates is lacking--can it be denied that the complexity of the strife

makes against the view that the possession of a female is the proximate

end for which the males are fighting?

We started with the most simple aspect of the whole problem, the

fighting of two males in the presence of one female--the aspect upon

which attention has usually been fixed. And if it remained at that, if

observation failed to disclose any further development in the situation,

then there would be no need to probe the matter deeper, there would be

no reason to doubt the assertion that the quarrel had direct reference

to the female. But assuredly no one can ponder over the diversity of

battle and still believe that the possession of a mate furnishes an

adequate solution of the mystery. Clearly such an hypothesis cannot

cover all the known facts; there are conflicts between separate pairs,

and there are conflicts between males when females are known to be

absent and when their mates are even engaged in the work of

incubation--these cannot be due to an impulse in a member of one sex to

gain or keep possession of one of the other sex. So that taking all

these facts into consideration, we are justified, I think, in hesitating

to accept this view, and must look elsewhere for the real condition

under which the pugnacious nature of the male is rendered susceptible to

appropriate stimulation.

What then is the meaning of all this warfare? The process of

reproduction is a complex one, built up of a number of different parts

forming one inter-related whole; it is not merely a question of

"battle," or of "territory," or of "song," or of "emotional

manifestation," but of all these together. The fighting is thus one link

in a chain of events whose end is the attainment of reproduction; it is

a relationship in an inter-related process, and to speak of it as being

even directly related to the territory is scarcely sufficient, for it is

intimately associated with the disposition which is manifested in the

isolation of the male from its companions, and forms therewith an

_imperium in imperio_ from which our concept of breeding territory is

taken. But let me say at once that it is no easy matter to prove this,

for since so many modes of behaviour, which can be interpreted as

lending support to this view, are likewise interpretable on the view

that the presence of a female is a necessary condition of the fighting,

it is difficult to find just the sort of evidence that is required.

Nevertheless, after hearing the whole of the evidence and at the same

time keeping in mind the conclusion which we have already reached, I

venture to think that the close relationship between the warfare on the

one hand and the territory on the other will be fully admitted.

Formerly I deemed the spring rivalry to be the result of accidental

encounters, and I believed that an issue to a struggle was only reached

when one of the combatants succumbed or disappeared from the locality, a

view which neither recognised method nor admitted control. Recent

experience has shown, however, that I was wrong, and that there is a

very definite control over and above that which is supplied by the

physical capabilities of the birds.

Let us take some common species, the Willow-Warbler being our first

example; and, having found three adjoining territories occupied by

unpaired males, let us study the conflicts at each stage in the sexual

life of the three individuals, observing them before females have

arrived upon the scene, again when one or two of the three males have

secured mates, and yet again when all three have paired. Now we shall

find that the conditions which lead up to and which terminate the

conflicts are remarkably alike at each of these periods. A male

intrudes, and the intrusion evokes an immediate display of irritation on

the part of the owner of the territory, who, rapidly uttering its song

and jerking its wings, begins hostilities. Flying towards the intruder,

it attacks viciously, and there follows much fluttering of wings and

snapping or clicking of bills. At one moment the birds are in the

tree-tops, at another in the air, and sometimes even on the ground, and

fighting thus they gradually approach and pass beyond the limits of the

territory. Whereupon a change comes over the scene; the male whose

territory was intruded upon and who all along had displayed such

animosity, betrays no further interest in the conflict--it ceases to

attack, searches around for food, or sings, and slowly makes its way

back towards the centre of the territory.

Scenes of this kind are of almost daily occurrence wherever a species is

so common, or the environment to which it is adapted so limited in

extent, that males are obliged to occupy adjacent ground. The Moor-Hen

abounds on all suitable sheets of water, and it is a bird that can be

conveniently studied because, as a rule, there is nothing, except the

rushes that fringe the pool, to hinder us from obtaining a panoramic

view of the whole proceedings, and moreover the area occupied by each

individual is comparatively small. Towards the middle of February,

symptoms of sexual organic change make themselves apparent, and the pool

is then no longer the resort of a peaceable community; quarrels become

frequent, and as different portions of the surface of the water are

gradually appropriated, so the fighting becomes more incessant and more

severe. Each individual has its own particular territory, embracing a

piece of open water as well as a part of the rush-covered fringe, within

which it moves and lives. But in the early part of the season, when the

territories are still in process of being established, and definiteness

has still to be acquired, trespassing is of frequent occurrence, and the

conflicts are often conspicuous for their severity.

Now these conflicts are not confined to unpaired individuals, nor to one

sex, nor to one member of a pair--every individual that has settled upon

the pool for the purpose of breeding will at one time or another be

involved in a struggle with its neighbour. If then we single out certain

pairs and day by day observe their actions and their attitude towards

intruders, we shall notice that, instead of their routine of existence

consisting, as a casual acquaintance with the pool and its inmates might

lead us to believe, of an endless series of meaningless disputes, the

behaviour of each individual is directed towards a similar goal--the

increasing of the security of its possession; and further, if we pay

particular attention to the circumstances which lead up to the quarrels

and the circumstances under which such quarrels come to an end, we shall

find, when we have accumulated a sufficient body of observations, that

the disputes always originate in trespass, and that hostilities always

cease when the trespasser returns again to its own territory. By careful

observation it is possible to make oneself acquainted with the

boundaries--I know not what other term to use--which separate this

territory from that; and it is the conduct of the birds on or near these

boundaries to which attention must be drawn. A bird may be feeding

quietly in one corner of its territory when an intruder enters. Becoming

aware of what is happening it ceases to search for food, and approaching

the intruder, at first swimming slowly but gradually increasing its

pace, it finally rises and attacks with wings and beak, and drives its

rival back again beyond the boundary. Thereupon its attitude undergoes a

remarkable change; ceasing to attack, but remaining standing for a few

moments as if still keeping guard, it betrays no further interest in the

bird with which a few seconds previously it was fighting furiously. On

one occasion I watched a trespasser settle upon a conspicuous clump of

rushes situated near the boundary. The owner, who was at the moment some

distance away, approached in the usual manner, and, having driven off

the trespasser, returned immediately to the clump, where it remained

erect and motionless.

A feature which marks all the fighting, and which we cannot afford to

disregard, is the conative aspect of the behaviour of the owner of the

territory. The bird attacks with apparent deliberation _as if_ it were

striving to attain some definite end. I recollect an incident which was

interesting from this point of view. A pair of Reed-Buntings were

disturbed by a Weasel which had approached their nest containing young.

Both birds betrayed symptoms of excitement; as the Weasel threaded its

way amongst the rushes, so they fluttered from clump to clump or clung

to the stems, uttering a note which is peculiar to times of distress,

and followed it thus until finally it disappeared in a hedge. The

rapidly uttered note and the excitement of the birds caused some

commotion, and the male from an adjoining territory approached the

scene. Now one would have expected that the presence of this bird, and

possibly its aid in driving away a common enemy, would have been

welcomed; one would have thought that all else would have been

subservient to the common danger, and that so real a menace to the

offspring would have evoked an impulse in the parent powerful enough to

dominate the situation and subordinate all the activities of the bird to

the attainment of its end. But what happened? Three times during this

incident, the male, whose young were in danger, abandoned the pursuit of

the Weasel and pursued the intruder. It was not merely that he objected

to the presence of this neighbouring male in a passive way, nor even

that he had a momentary skirmish with it, but that he determinedly drove

the intruder beyond the boundary and only then returned to harass the

Weasel.

Thus it seems clear that the proximate end to which the fighting is

directed is not necessarily the defeat of the intruder, but its removal

from a certain position. And inasmuch as this result will be obtained

whether the retreat is brought about by fear of an opponent or by

physical exhaustion, it is manifest that too much significance need not

be attached to the amount of injury inflicted. It is necessary to bear

this in mind, because it is held by some, who have carefully observed

the actions of various species, that overmuch importance is attached to

the conflicts, that in a large number of instances they are mere

"bickerings" and lead to nothing, and that they are now only "formal,"

which means, I suppose, that they are vestigial--fragments of warfare

that determined the survival of the species in bygone ages. But if the

conclusion at which we have just arrived be correct, if we can recognise

a single aim passing through the whole of the warfare--and that one the

removal of an intruder from a certain position, then we need no longer

concern ourselves as to the degree of severity of the battles--we see it

all in true perspective. Neither exhaustion nor physical inability are

the sole factors which determine the nature and extent of the fighting;

there is a more important factor still--position. According, that is to

say, to the position which a bird occupies whilst fighting is in

progress, so its pugnacious nature gains or loses susceptibility, and it

is this gain or loss of susceptibility which I refer to when I speak of

the fighting as being controlled.

What we have then to consider is the relation of "susceptibility" to

"position." We can explain the relationship in two ways. We can say that

the part of the nature of the male which leads to the occupation of a

territory, and is partly hereditary and partly acquired, is stronger

than the part which leads the bird to fight, and which is conditioned by

the presence of a female, and that consequently when the male passes the

boundary, the impulse to return asserts itself and the conflict ceases;

or we can say that the occupation of a territory is the condition under

which the pugnacious instinct is rendered susceptible to stimulation,

that the stimulus is supplied by the intruder, and that when the male

passes outside the accustomed area its instinct is no longer so

susceptible and it therefore retires from the conflict.

[Illustration: Long-tailed Tit Males fighting for possession of

territory. The feathers have been torn from the crown of the defeated

and dying rival.

Emery Walker ph.sc.]

Of these explanations, the first is not altogether satisfactory. It

requires the presence of a female and, as we have seen, a female is by

no means always present. Then it attributes to the one side of the

inherited nature an influence which is not borne out by the facts, for

in the ordinary routine of existence, without the incentive of battle,

every individual is liable to wander occasionally beyond its boundary

and to intrude temporarily upon its neighbours; and this it could

scarcely do, providing its nature to remain within the territory were

powerful enough to dominate its movements and curtail its activities

even during the excitement of an encounter. But there is nothing

inherently improbable in the alternative hypothesis, nor anything that

is at all inconsistent with the behaviour as observed; on the contrary,

if it is admitted, the facts become connected together and exhibit a

meaning which they otherwise would not have possessed.

So much for the controlling influence of "position," which alone seems

to me sufficient ground for believing that the fighting has reference to

the territory. But it is not the whole of the evidence.

Now if it were possible to demonstrate by actual observation that those

males which had not established territories were not pugnacious, we

should have something in the nature of proof of the correctness of this

view. Demonstrative evidence of this kind is, however, unattainable. Yet

we can come very near to obtaining it by reason of a peculiar feature

which marks the process of acquiring territory--the neutral ground. The

Lapwing will serve as an illustration. In the previous chapter I

referred to the small flocks that appeared in the accustomed water

meadow early in February, and I described how they settled day after day

in that meadow, but only in a limited part of it, where they passed

their time in rest, in preening their feathers, or in running this way

and that lazily searching for food; and how, at length, the flock

dwindled by reason of individuals breaking away in order to secure

positions on the remaining part of the meadow. Here the neutral ground

is adjacent to the territories, and, while still occupied by the flock,

is resorted to by the males that had deserted that flock in order to

establish those territories.

Suppose now that we have the whole meadow in view from some point of

vantage. In front of us are the territories, in the distance the neutral

ground; and in each territory there is a solitary male, while on the

neutral ground a number of individuals of both sexes are assembled, and

move about freely one amongst another. So that the scene presented to

view is somewhat as follows: a flat meadow, at one end of which, and at

fairly regular intervals, a few solitary individuals are dotted about,

each one keeping at a distance from its neighbours; while at the other

end a number of individuals are collected together in a comparatively

small space, apparently deriving some satisfaction from their close

association. That surely is a very remarkable contrast. But let us

continue our investigation, first fixing our attention upon the solitary

individuals; one is standing preening its feathers, another is squatting

upon the ground, a third runs a few yards in this direction then a few

yards in that, stimulated apparently by the sight of food, and so on.

Moreover, each one keeps strictly to a well-defined area and makes no

attempt to associate with its fellows. One of the males, however, whilst

roaming backwards and forwards approaches the limit of its territory,

and this brings the neighbouring bird, whose boundary is threatened,

rapidly to the spot. In an upright position both stand face to face, and

the battle then begins; with their wings they attempt to beat one

another about the body, with their beaks they aim blows at the head, and

in the mêlée wings and legs seem to be inextricably mixed; whilst at

intervals, driven backwards by the force of the collision, they are

compelled to separate, only, however, to return to the charge--and the

sound of beating wings and the feathers that float in the air are tokens

of earnestness. Such scenes are of frequent occurrence; but the

conflicts vary in intensity, and the circumstances under which they

occur vary too, and females come and go without leaving any clue as to

their ultimate intentions.

Turning now to the flock one is impressed with the friendship that seems

to exist between the various members. There are, it is true, occasional

displays of pugnacity which never seem to develop into anything very

serious; for instance, one bird will fly at another, and a momentary

scuffle is followed by a short pursuit but nothing more--nothing, that

is to say, in the least comparable with the battle previously described.

Of what is the flock composed? Of members of both sexes. There is no

difficulty in assuring oneself that this is so. But is it entirely

composed of individuals in whom development has not reached a stage

adequate for the functioning of the primary dispositions? No, not

entirely; for it will be observed that its number is a fluctuating one,

that birds come and go, and, if a close watch is kept upon the different

individuals as they leave, it will be noticed that some at least are

inmates of the territories at the opposite end of the meadow--the

solitary members whose behaviour we were recently watching. This fact is

an important one. We were impressed, it may be remembered, with the

contrast between the general behaviour of the birds at the opposite

ends of the meadow. But now it appears as if the contrast were not

between this individual and that, but between the behaviour of the same

one under different circumstances. The male, that is to say, which,

while in its territory, tolerates the approach of no other male, flies

to the flock and is there welcomed by the very individuals with whom a

short time previously it had been engaged in serious conflict.

But if the conditions are reversed and the flock happens to settle in an

occupied territory, the attitude of the owner towards the flock is very

different. In the year 1916 an incident of this kind occurred in the

meadow to which reference has already been made. The weather had been

exceptionally severe--very cold easterly and north-easterly winds,

frost, and frequent falls of snow had affected the behaviour of the

Lapwings, and seemed to have checked the normal development of their

sexual routine. The males would attempt to establish themselves, and

then, when the temperature fell and the ground was covered with snow,

would collect again in flocks and follow their winter routine. It was on

the 9th March, during one of the spells of milder weather, that the

flock on the neutral ground was disturbed and settled mainly in the

territory marked No. 3 on the 1916 plan, but partly on that marked No.

2. The owners thereupon began to attack the different members of the

invading flock. Fixing attention upon a particular bird whilst ignoring

the remainder, the No. 3 male drove it away, and then after a pause

drove another away, and so on until by degrees all the invaders were

banished, and the No. 2 male did likewise. The interest of this incident

lies, however, in the behaviour of the different individuals of which

the flock was composed; when attacked they made no real show of

resistance, but accepted the situation and left. The will to fight was

clearly lacking, yet their presence was a source of annoyance to the

owners of the territories. A short time previously a female had

accompanied one of the males and was at that time somewhere in the

vicinity, but beyond this there was no evidence to show that either of

them were paired, and even if the presence of the female were the reason

of the pugnacity of the one, it could not well account for that of the

other.

The neutral ground does not always happen to be so close at hand as in

the case of the meadow referred to. Sometimes the birds will resort to a

particular field, attracted probably by a plentiful supply of food, and

here they collect and behave as they do during the winter, running this

way and that as the fancy takes them, meeting together by accident at

one moment, parting at another, according to the direction in which they

happen to wander. Of animosity there is little sign; the season might be

the middle of winter instead of the middle of March for all the

indication there is of sexual development, and yet one knows that they

will behave differently when they leave this ground, as presently they

will, and return to their territories in the surrounding neighbourhood,

and that there each one will fight if necessary to preserve its acre

from intrusion.

It would seem, then, from this that the fighting must bear some relation

to the particular area of ground in which it occurs; and unless it can

be shown that there is some other factor in the external environment of

the male, that is the direction in which we must look for the condition

under which the instinct is rendered susceptible. One's thoughts turn,

of course, to the female, but she too passes backwards and forwards

between the territories and the neutral ground, and if her presence were

really a _conditio sine qua non_ of the strife, one would like to know

why, when she leaves those territories and joins the flock and the males

do likewise, similar conflicts should not prevail there also.

Other species have their neutral ground, but the environment seldom

affords such facilities for observation as does that of the Lapwing.

Even though the Moor-Hens, who are so conspicuously intolerant upon the

pool, _do_ feed together amicably upon the meadows adjoining; and the

Chaffinch that is so pugnacious in the morning, _does_ seek out the

flock later in the day; yet their conditions of existence prevent our

obtaining a panoramic view of the whole proceeding, and we have to study

each scene separately before discovering that the relationship between

intolerance and the territory on the one hand, and friendship and the

neutral ground on the other, is just as strong a feature as it is in the

behaviour of the Lapwing.

I shall now give a brief account of the conduct of a male Reed-Bunting

which by persistent effort established itself late in the season, and I

shall do so because its behaviour tends to confirm much that has been

said in the preceding pages.

Early in March three male Reed-Buntings occupied a small water meadow

overgrown with the common rush, and by the third week all of them were

paired. On the 30th March two of the males were unusually pugnacious,

and on the following day fighting continued and at times was very

severe. Now I knew that the occupants of the ground in which the

fighting was taking place were paired, and not doubting that the

combatants were the owners of two territories marked for convenience

sake Nos. 1 and 2, I was at a loss to understand the meaning of so

determined and persistent a struggle. My attention, however, was

presently drawn to a third bird, which also joined in the conflict and

made the whole situation still more perplexing. This bird, as it soon

became clear, was none other than the owner of No. 2 territory, and the

one that I had previously regarded as such was a new arrival. On the

following day, the 1st April, fighting continued, and in my record for

that day there is a note to the effect that "No. 2 female seems to be of

no interest to No. 5 male (the new arrival); its purpose seems to be to

drive away intruders." On the 2nd April and subsequent days, this bird

attacked every other male that approached, and not only maintained its

position but ultimately succeeded in securing a mate. Here then we have

two territories occupied by two males, both of which had obtained a

mate. The relation of these two birds was normal, a month's routine had

defined their boundaries, and conflicts were less frequent than

formerly. But upon this comparatively peaceful scene a strange male

intrudes. Observe the manner of the intrusion. The stranger does not

wander about first in this direction and then in that, but acts _as if_

it had some definite end in view, and establishing itself in a small

alder bush which it uses as a base or headquarters, it gradually extends

its dominion, gains the mastery over the surrounding ground, part of

which belonged to No. 1 male and part to No. 2, and finally drives a

wedge, so to speak, between the two territories.

How is its behaviour to be explained, and why did its presence cause

such commotion? No one could have watched the gradual unfolding of this

incident day by day and not have been impressed by the persistent

endeavour with which this male maintained its position in one small part

of the meadow. This is the first and most important consideration. Then

there is the attitude, also significant, which it adopted towards the

females; for I take it that, apart from the question of territory, the

explanation of its intrusion must be sought in the necessity for

securing a mate--that it was attracted by the presence of the females,

and that the proximate end of its behaviour was the possession of one of

them. But if there is one thing that emerges from the facts more clearly

than another it is that the course of its behaviour was in no way

influenced by the presence or absence of either of the females. My

reasons for saying so are the following: in the first place, it made no

attempt to pursue or to thrust its attention upon either one or the

other of them; secondly, it even went so far as to attack and drive them

away when they approached too closely; and in the third place, when an

unpaired female did at length appear, it adopted a different attitude

and forthwith paired. And bearing in mind that these two females had

already been with their respective mates for some considerable time, and

that there was reason to believe that coition had actually taken place,

is it likely that any counter-attraction would have proved successful in

tempting either of them away from its mate, or probable, if they were

the sole attraction, that the intruding male would have been so

persistent in remaining? How very much simpler it is to fit the pieces

together, if for the time being we ignore the female and fix our

attention upon the territory. Each item of behaviour then falls into its

proper place, and the fighting which seemed so perplexing and

meaningless becomes a factor of prime importance. First of all the male

arrives; then it establishes itself in a small alder bush and advertises

its presence by song; next, by persistent effort in attacking the

neighbouring males, it frees a piece of ground from their dominion; and

finally, in proper sequence, a female arrives, pairing takes place, and

reproduction is secured.

[Illustration: A battle between two pairs of Jays

Emery Walker ph.sc.]

How then does the whole matter stand? If it were males only that engaged

in serious conflict, and if they fought only in the presence of a

female, the problem would resolve itself into one simply of obtaining

mates. But the warfare extends in a variety of directions, it is not

confined to one sex, nor to unpaired individuals, nor need the opponents

necessarily be of the same sex; it involves both sexes alike singly or

combined. Now the view that the biological end of battle is, in its

primary aspect, related to the female, cannot, as we have seen, apply to

the conflicts between different pairs, and only by much stretching of

the imagination can it be held responsible for the hostility that males

frequently display towards females or _vice versa_. It is valid only for

a certain form of warfare. But that form represents, you will say, a

large proportion of the whole, which is true; and so long as we ignore

the remainder, we might rest content in the belief that we had solved

the major part of the problem. But can we ignore the remainder? Can we

say that the conflicts between paired males, for example, are simply

offshoots of the pugnacious disposition, and have no part to play in the

process of reproduction? They recur with marked persistency season after

season and generation after generation; they are to be found in species

widely remote; they are frequent in occurrence; and no one who had

observed them and noted the vigour with which they are conducted, could,

I think, conclude that they were meaningless--and be satisfied. They

must somehow be explained. So that if anyone thinks fit to maintain that

possession of a mate is an adequate explanation of part of the

hostilities, it is clearly impossible to regard all the fighting as a

manifestation of one principle directed towards a common biological end.

But wherever we extend our researches, we find that the facts give

precision to the view that the occupation of a territory is the

condition under which the pugnacious instinct is rendered susceptible to

stimulation. The Lapwing, when in its territory, displays hostility

towards other males of its own species, but when upon neutral ground,

treats them with indifference; the Chiffchaff pursues its rival up to

the boundary and is then apparently satisfied that its object has been

achieved; the cock Chaffinch in March permits no other male to intrude

upon its acre or so of ground during the early hours of the morning, but

for the rest of the day it joins the flock and is sociable; the

Herring-Gull resents the approach of strangers so long as it occupies

its few square feet of cliff, but welcomes companions whilst it is

following the plough--all of which points to a relation between the

territory and the fighting. And this view has at least one merit--it

accounts for all the fighting no matter what degree of severity may be

reached or in what way the sexes may be involved. The complexity of the

strife presents no obstacle; for if the biological end of the fighting

is to render the territory, which has already been established, secure

from intrusion, each sex will have its allotted part to play at the

allotted time: thus the battles between the males before females appear

on the scene will decide the initial question of ownership; those

between the females will give an advantage to the more virile members

and insure an even distribution of mates for the successful males; the

constant struggles between paired males will roughly maintain the

boundaries and prevent such encroachment as might hamper the supply of

food for the young; and the co-operation of male and female in defence

of the territory will be an additional safeguard. Each form of battle

will contribute some share towards the main biological function of

reproduction.

Hitherto we have dealt principally with the male. We have referred, it

is true, to the fact that the female co-operates with her mate in order

to drive away intruders, but beyond this, we have made no attempt to

trace what part, if any, she plays in the whole scheme. We must do so

now.

The various steps by which the territory is not only established but

made secure from invasion, imply an inherited nature nicely balanced in

many directions--first of all the male must be so attuned as to be ready

to search for a territory at the right moment; then it must be capable

of selecting a suitable environment; and, having established itself, it

must be prepared to defend its area from a rival, and to resist

encroachment by its neighbours--and if it failed in any one of these

respects, it would run the risk of failure in the attainment of

reproduction. Each individual has therefore to pass, so to speak,

through a number of sieves--the meshes of which are none too

wide--before it can have a reasonable prospect of success. This being

so, we ask, in the first place, whether the female, too, may not have an

eliminating test to pass; and in the second place, whether she may not

also assist in furthering the biological end of securing the territory.

Now the answer to the first of these questions will be found to be in

the affirmative. Just as, in the securing of a territory, the ultimate

appeal is to the physical strength of the male, so, in the course of her

search for a mate, the female may be called upon to challenge, or may be

challenged by a rival, and the issue is decided by force. My attention

was first drawn to this fact by a struggle between two female

Whitethroats, which I have described elsewhere. The scene of its

occurrence was the corner of a small osier bed occupied by one male, and

the females that took part in it had only recently arrived, but the

male, an unpaired bird, had been in possession of its territory for some

days. The sequel to this struggle, which was protracted and severe, was

the disappearance of both females, the male being left without a mate

for a further ten days.

[Illustration: Emery Walker ph.sc.

The female Chaffinch shares in the defence of the territory and attacks

other females.]

Numerous instances have since come under my notice. Hen Chaffinches

become so absorbed that they fall to the ground and there continue the

struggle. Seizing hold of one another by the feathers of the head, they

roll from side to side, and then, without relaxing their grip, lie

exhausted--the quickened heart-beat, altered respiration, tightly

compressed feathers and partially expanded wings betraying the intensity

of the conflict.

As the breeding season approaches, hen Blackbirds grow more pugnacious.

Individuals that early in the year have frequented the same spot daily

and have even shown every sign of friendship, become openly hostile. For

two years in succession I had an opportunity of observing females under

such conditions, and of studying the gradual change in their

relationship. Each morning at break of day and for some hours afterwards

they could be seen in the same place, one following the other as they

searched for food first in this direction and then in that, as if they

derived some special pleasure from the fact of their companionship. Then

a change began to manifest itself. Indications of animosity became

apparent; one would run towards the other in a threatening attitude and,

in a half-hearted manner, peck at it; and gradually the hostility grew,

until the tentative pecking developed into a scuffle and the scuffle

into a conflict.

Much fighting also occurs between the females of the Reed-Bunting, and

likewise between those of the Moor-Hen, and because these two species

are not only common but inhabit respectively open stretches of marshy

ground or large sheets of water, the fighting can be readily observed.

Why do the females fight before they are definitely paired? To obtain

mates? This certainly seems to be the obvious explanation because any

question of securing territory can be excluded; yet if it be true that

their sex is numerically inferior, it is difficult to understand the

necessity for such strenuous competition. But what is the condition

under which the pugnacious instinct of the female is rendered

susceptible to stimulation? It cannot be merely the presence of a male

ready to breed, for then there would be endless commotion amongst the

flocks of Chaffinches or of Lapwings which in March are composed of both

sexes, including even males that have secured territories. There must be

some other circumstance; and, judging by experience, it is to be found

in the territory--a male, that is to say, in occupation of one, is the

condition under which the inherited nature of the female is allowed free

play. We must bear in mind, however, that the competition between the

males is very severe, that large numbers probably fail to pass even this

preliminary test, and that only a proportion are in a position to offer

to the female the condition under which her process can successfully run

its course; so that the presumption is--though it is incapable of

demonstration--that there is a competition for such males each recurring

season, and that, on the average, the weaker females fail to procreate

their kind.

But apart from any direct assistance she may give in driving away

intruders, does she in any way help to further the biological end of

reproduction? This is a difficult question to answer, and the suggestion

I have to make can only apply in those cases in which the territory is

occupied throughout the breeding season. Much of the fighting between

the males occurs in her presence, and it must be admitted--though it is

difficult to speak with any degree of certainty--that such fighting,

taken as a whole, bears the stamp of exceptional determination. Let us

then grant that the excitement of a male does, under these

circumstances, reach a higher level of intensity, and let us see how

this will add to the security of the territory. The fact that the male

has established itself and obtained a mate is not alone sufficient to

accomplish the end for which the territory has been evolved. During the

period between the initial discharge of the sexual function and the time

when incubation draws to a close, much may happen to prejudice the

future of the offspring; there is always the possibility of invasion by

an individual whose development is backward or which has been

unsuccessful in making good the first step, and, as we saw in the case

of the Reed-Bunting, a portion of the ground won may be lost; there is

always the danger of gradual encroachment by neighbouring owners; and

there is even a possibility that a pair may be so persistently harassed

by more virile neighbours as to forsake the locality permanently. If

then a male is to attain a full measure of success it must be capable

of keeping its boundaries intact up to the time when the young are able

to fend for themselves, and consequently it is important that its

intolerant nature should remain susceptible to stimulation throughout

the greater part of the season.

Does the presence of a female serve to promote this end? Now we know

very little of the influence exerted by one sex upon the other.

Professor Lloyd Morgan has suggested that the male raises the emotional

tone of the female, a suggestion which seems to me in accordance with

the facts. There is reason to believe, however, that the converse is

also true--namely that the excitement of the male reaches a higher level

of intensity when a female is present. Granting then that his emotional

tone is raised, how will this affect the question? So great is the

difference of opinion as to the part that the emotions play in

furthering the life of the individual that one hesitates to accept any

particular one. But it seems to be generally admitted that emotion adds

to the efficacy of behaviour, and this is the view of Professor Lloyd

Morgan. "Whatever may be the exact psychological nature of the emotions,

it may be regarded," he says, "as certain that they introduce into the

conscious situation elements which contribute not a little to the energy

of behaviour. They are important conditions to vigorous and sustained

conation." Therefore, if it be true that the female raises the emotional

tone of the male, the result will be an increased flow of energy into

all the specific modes of behaviour connected with reproduction, amongst

which those directly concerned in the securing and defence of the

territory will receive their share; so that instead of a progressive

weakening of just those elements in the situation which make for

success, the level of their efficiency will be maintained as a result of

such reinforcement. But the female becomes intolerant of her own sex

when she has discovered a male ready to breed, and, later, assists her

mate in resisting intrusion; and by raising her emotional tone, he may

be the means of furthering more strenuous behaviour on her part. Each

member of the pair would in this way contribute towards the energy of

behaviour of its mate, and hence add indirectly to the security of the

territory.

It may be well to illustrate the foregoing remarks. Suppose that there

is a small piece of woodland barely sufficient to hold three pairs of

Willow-Warblers, and suppose that the male and female in the middle

territory did not respond to one another's influence quite as readily as

the adjoining males and females, what would be the result? The emotional

tone of the central pair would stand at a lower level of intensity; and,

since their congenital dispositions would lack the necessary

reinforcement, the birds would tend to become less and less punctilious

in keeping their boundaries intact, whereas the adjoining pairs, always

on the alert and meeting with little opposition, would encroach more and

more and gradually extend their dominion. And so, by the time the young

were hatched, the parents would be in occupation of an area too limited

in extent to insure the necessarily rapid supply of food, and would be

compelled to intrude upon the adjoining ground. But knowing how routine

becomes ingrained in the life of the individual, knowing that for weeks

this pair had submitted to their neighbours, can we believe that they

would be capable of asserting their authority and that the young would

be properly cared for? Or suppose that different pairs of Kittiwake

Gulls on the crowded ledges, or different pairs of Puffins in the

crowded burrows, varied in like manner, would they all have equal

chances of rearing their offspring? The struggle for reproduction is

nowhere more severe than amongst the cliff-breeding sea birds; it is not

for nothing that one sees Kittiwake Gulls, locked together, fall into

the water hundreds of feet below and struggle to the point of

exhaustion, or, as has been reported, to the point of death; it is not

for nothing that Puffins fight with such desperation. And surely success

will be attained by that pair whose emotional tone stands high and whose

impulse to fight is therefore strong, rather than to the ill-assorted

couple.

The argument, then, is briefly this. In the spring, a marked change

takes place in the character of the males of very many species; instead

of being gregarious they either avoid one another and become hostile,

or, if their conditions of existence require that they shall still live

together, they become irritable and pugnacious. This change is made

known to us by the battles of varying degrees of severity which are such

a feature of bird life in the spring; and since a female can commonly be

observed to accompany the combatants, the possession of a mate appears

at first sight to be the proximate end for which the males are

contending. But when the circumstances which lead up to the quarrels are

investigated closely, the problem becomes more difficult; for it is not

merely a question of males fighting in the presence of a female, as is

generally supposed to be the case, but on the contrary there is a

complexity of strife which is bewildering--males attack females or _vice

versa_; female fights with female; or a pair combine to drive away

another pair, or even a solitary individual no matter of which sex. This

complexity of strife makes against the view that the possession of a

mate is the reason of the fighting. But an even stronger objection is to

be found in the fact that males are hostile when no female is

present--and hence we must seek elsewhere for the true explanation.

Now if the behaviour of a male be closely observed, it will be found

that its pugnacious instinct gains or loses susceptibility according to

the position which it happens to occupy--when its ground is trespassed

upon, the impulse to fight is strong; but when it crosses the boundary

it seems to lose all interest in the intruder. Moreover, in some

species, the male rejoins the flock at intervals during the early part

of the season and for a time leads a double existence, passing backwards

and forwards between its territory and the neutral ground. Its behaviour

under these circumstances affords some valuable evidence, for the bird

displays little if any hostility when accompanying the flock, yet when

it returns to the ground over which it exercises dominion, no male can

approach without being attacked. The conclusion, therefore, seems to be

inevitable, namely that the actual occupation of a territory is the

condition under which the pugnacious nature of the male is rendered

susceptible to appropriate stimulation.

Territory in Bird Life · 第 3 / 7 章